12. CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
PEM
One second, I’m pouring out my heart—albeit, very poorly—and the next, the woman I’ve just poured said heart out to is running away from me.
Again.
But I’m not letting Iseol scamper off without talking, not after what I just confessed to her. So before she can get too far ahead, I shift.
The motion is almost unconscious as my body transforms itself into a tiny, brown fox. The instant change in depth perception is jarring, but I swallow back my nausea as I bolt after Iseol.
Bloody hell, I’m fast in this form.
In no time, I’ve caught up to the little vixen, pinning her into the frozen ground. She stills beneath me as I bite her neck—a purely instinctual act of my now vulpine mind.
Before I can react to calm her, Iseol shifts back into her maiden form, my mouth still pressed against the softness of her flesh.
Something hard presses between my lips, and I furrow my brow as I clasp my teeth around the foreign object.
Iseol shudders, and I roll off her, confused by the rounded bead in my mouth before I realize that it’s her fox marble.
Instantly, I release it into my paw, shift, and pass it to her, knowing how important the small sphere is to my mate.
The nausea returns tenfold, sweeping over me in sickening waves until it finally stops. Iseol stares at me as I try to catch my breath.
“I-I’m sorry,” I rasp. “I didn’t mean to take your fox marble. It was an accident. I would never cross such a line.”
Her cheeks are flushed bright purple, but the rest of pale blue skin seems ashen against the lightness of her dress.
The vermillion hair tie and matching scarlet circles on her cheeks and forehead stand out vividly in the whiteness of our surroundings.
Combined with her clothing, Iseol reminds me of a candy cane.
As a kid, they were my favorite Yule treat, and I would suck on them slowly for hours just to make them last longer.
It’s the exact same thing I want to do to Iseol.
“Are you alright, Pem?”
“Y-yes.”
My voice shakes, but at least the dizziness has passed. I take a deep inhale to clear my head, and instead, my lungs are instantly clogged with the Gumiho’s scent.
I’ve caught hints of it before, but nothing like now. It perfumes the air until I can’t breathe, and my body seizes as the smell wraps around me.
I thought perhaps Iseol was going into heat, but when she said she’s never been feverish before in her life, I discounted the theory.
There’s no way a woman her age wouldn’t have encountered a heat—at least, it’s what I assumed up until a moment ago.
Now…I’m just confused.
And hard.
Painfully hard.
My therys pushes against the opening of my bokyt, demanding release as I strive to think with the head on my shoulders.
Nothing makes sense, least of all why I suddenly feel like I’m going into rut.
Was Ramani right?
Because I associate Iseol as my mate in my head I think I’m having a physiological reaction when I’m not?
Nope.
I know my body well enough to tell the difference, and I’m for sure going into rut.
What.
The.
Fuck?
What happened to my suppressants?!
Unfortunately, that’s about as far as my rational thinking capabilities can take me before all reasoning gets swept aside.
A growl from deep within me wells up and tumbles past my lips. I wait for Iseol to shift and run away at the sound.
But I’m ready.
I am the hunter, and she is my sweet prey.
To my surprise—and delight—she doesn’t run. Instead, she sways toward me, fanning her incredible scent with every fluff of her tails.
She moans before throwing her arms around my waist. Iseol buries her head against my torso, muffling a noise that almost sounds like a cry.
It’s enough to cut through some of the lust pounding into my skull and syphoning through my body.
“Cariad, what’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t know! I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“You’re in heat, love. It’s triggered my rut…somehow. I don’t quite understand, either, as I’m taking suppressants so I can’t go into rut. Have you never had a heat before?”
“No! Gumiho have them, but not Yuki-Onna. I’ve always thought in this regard I was more like my mother than my father’s side. Then my mother called last night and told me about another Yuki-Onna who’s part Haetae and how she met her mate and suddenly went into heat!”
It takes me a moment to process Iseol’s words, but when I do, I have a better idea of why she’s just now experiencing her first heat.
Joy twists through me at the knowledge that it’s because I’m her mate—that I triggered it.
No other male.
Just me.
But it doesn’t explain how or why she’s managed to make me go into rut unless mates can somehow override the suppressant.
Nor does it erase the guilt that what Iseol is feeling is beyond her control, not to mention very overwhelming.
“Cariad, listen to me while we’re still lucid—if you don’t want this, I will leave. I will get my sister, and we’ll figure out some way to get you through your first heat that doesn’t cause you pain but also doesn’t require you doing anything you don’t want.”
Because heat/rut cycles are like sexual compulsions. A monster can’t say ‘no’ after a certain point, and I refuse to take that option from Iseol.
“I…I want this. I’ve wanted this since the moment I first met you, but I was just too scared to admit it—even to myself, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Pem. My body and heart already knew what my brain is now just realizing—you are my mate.”
Happiness courses through me, and I swear my hooves lift off the ground from how much joy I feel at her words.
I trace a claw under her chin, my gaze drinking in just how lovely my mate is, dressed in white like a bride.
My bride.
My mate.
My heart swells when she leans into the touch, her eyelids fluttering close. The moment is sweet, and I try to savor it before we become too lost in lust.
“Would you like to go…”
I trail off since the two of us don’t live here. We’re both visiting, and I assume Iseol is staying at a hotel like me—of which neither are likely to provide us any privacy.
Not to mention the complaints for when things are bound to get loud.
The Huldufólk likely have a secluded place we could use, but it feels rude to ask given they don’t really know me nor Iseol.
“Here is good.”
My mate tugs at my hand while I stare blankly, my mind already consumed by her perfume and warmth.
“What?”
“I like the cold, Pem. If it doesn’t bother you, here is perfect. It’s isolated and beautiful.”
“But…but first heats are special. I want to make this perfect for you.”
Her expression softens. “It already is—because I’m with you .”
There are so many things we haven’t discussed—important things, like who I am—but need eats away at my ability to think.
From the way Iseol’s pupils are blown, her heat’s overtaken my mate as well. The only thing to do now is just ride it out.
Together.