5. July
JULY
“ I t’s bloody awful, isn’t it. The world used to be so normal, now there’s kidnappings left, right, and centre. Makes you feel so unsafe.”
I stare quietly at the two women in front of me in the checkout line. They’re completely oblivious to anyone around them as they continue to talk about the documentary. Stolen By Magic hasn’t even aired on TV yet, but thanks to a huge advertising campaign, it seems to be all everyone wants to talk about. It’s on billboards and bus stops, on the radio and the ad breaks in between the six o’clock news. It’s an international documentary, one that promises to ‘shed light on the disappearance of humans in the wake of the Unravelling,’ and it’s come at a time right when I thought the world was finally beginning to feel settled again.
“It’s pretty obvious it’s anti non-humans, and there’s a lot of money behind it.” Brett had lamented to me over the phone last week. “And I’m saying this knowing full well that we both have a personal connection to someone that was actually almost stolen by magic, but I don’t think this documentary is even going to touch on the fae. I mean, how could they, if it’s a human-led production? They won’t know shit about the truth of it all. We don’t even know what’s really going on.”
I want to believe that he’s right, and that this documentary is just full of shit. At the same time, I can’t help but be fearful, not when I know that my own daughter was in danger last year. She’s safe now, and I’ll be forever grateful to Van for protecting her the way he does, but I still feel so uneasy knowing that there are people out there that can just open a portal to this realm, come through, and steal others away.
All I know is that the documentary airs tomorrow, and I’ll be relieved when all the fuss around it dies down.
I straighten the rain jacket hood around Kahu’s ears, doing my best given the fact that Kahu is only three and incapable of standing still. “Come on Nikau,” I call to her twin brother. “ Haere mai; let’s get you dressed for Mum, too. She’ll be here any minute.” It’s pouring down outside, typical mid-winter weather, and the boys are the last ones left at the daycare today. Outside, the sky is already pitch black.
On cue the door opens as I’m zipping up the last collar. In steps their mother, wrestling with her umbrella on the wet lino in the foyer. “ Kia ora! ” I call, rising to my feet. “ E pēhea ana koe? ”
“ E makariri ana ahau! ” I’m cold!
“ āue ,” I lament, before switching to English, having reached the limit of what I know how to say in te reo Māori. “It’s awful out there today, eh. They’re ready to go home, let me come with you and I’ll help buckle them in their carseats.”
“You don’t have to do that?—”
“Yes I do.” The wind is howling now, and I don’t know if her umbrella is even going to hold it together in the big gusts that are coming through. “Can’t have you buckling the two of them in all by yourself in this weather. I’ve got their bags.”
My hood has fallen off and my hair is drenched by the time I’ve finished doing up Kahu’s belts. “ Ka kite e Whaea, ” she says softly, her little hand patting my shoulder.
“ Ka kite anō , darling” I smile. “ Ka kite, ” I add, waving at Nikau, who’s strapped in on the other side of the backseat.
“Bye Whaea, ” he says with a huge yawn. “I’ll show you my monster truck tomorrow.”
I’m shivering by the time I get back inside. I still have to get my things and finish locking up — the last kaiako from the baby room went home half an hour ago. I grab my handbag from the office, my raincoat raining water down on the carpet as I move from room to room, switching the lights off as I go. I’m in the final room when the sound of heavy footsteps in the foyer makes me pause because no one should be here right now, and I peek around the doorframe.
“Brett!” It’s both a wonderful surprise and a relief to see him. “I thought some stranger had wandered in!” I rush towards him, almost slipping on the wet floor, and his hands dart out to catch me.
“Jeez, careful!” He pulls me against him, his lips descending on mine, blazing warm. He growls into my mouth, tongue meeting mine, and I grip his hair tight, ignoring the plastic sounds of our raincoats and the fact that we’re making out in the middle of my workplace.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when our lips part.
“I took some time off work. So did you; Ellie has arranged for you to have leave for the next three days.”
“What?!”
He grins against my lips, kissing me again. “You’re not mad?”
I shake my head. “No. Not at all.”
Brett’s headlights follow my car all the way home, a nice reassurance against the heavy wind and rain. It takes almost the entire half-hour drive for me to thaw out, even with the heater on full blast, and I’m relieved when I finally pull onto the winding road that takes me down into Bluewater Bay, the tiny beachside town I’ve called home for the past three decades.
I turn down my driveway, passing the ‘big’ house that I used to live in. I feel sorry for my current guests that have rented it for the week — it’s always a risk to visit the beach in the middle of winter, and it hasn’t paid off for them this time around. I park on the concrete pad in front of my much smaller dwelling and Brett pulls up beside me. It’s a mad dash once more to get up and inside my tiny house, and we stand in the main room — an open plan kitchen, dining, and lounge all rolled into one — peeling off our wet layers one by one.
“I wanna get you warm,” Brett says, a hint of a growl in his voice. “I don’t like the way you’re shivering.”
Despite having never visited my place before, he navigates it well enough, ushering me into the small bathroom. Luckily Ellie and I did not go with the same design for my tiny home as we did for her old one, and there’s a full ceiling in here rather than the 6-foot-high one she had at her old place. Still, Brett’s elbow hits the wall more than once as he helps me undress, and we only just manage to both fit into the shower. On the surface there’s nothing sexy about being squashed between a cold shower wall and a big man on a mission to get you warm as soon as possible, but his urge to care for me is a turn on; by the time he’s scrubbed me with soap and washed my hair in a very blokey, no-nonsense way, all I want is to sink to my knees and take his cock in my mouth.
Instead I wait until he’s midway through washing out his own hair before I reach around his middle, enjoying his grunt of surprise as I stroke his half-hard cock to full mast in a matter of seconds. “Fuck,” he growls, the sound of his voice sending a jolt of arousal right down to my pussy. I don’t let up, increasing my speed as I stroke his foreskin back over the head of his cock and up again. He turns to face me and I squeeze his knot, loving the way he gasps, his hand slapping against the wall above my head as the spray of water continues to hit his back. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna come,” he grinds out, yellow eyes wide, his expression feral. I love the sharpness of those canines as he bares his teeth, a growl rumbling in his barrel chest as I squeeze his knot even tighter, my right hand pistoning up and down his length. He’s already leaking precum in a continuous stream, but I want the main event. I want to see him explode. I want him to cover me in it.
“God, you’re so fucking good,” he growls, one huge hand slipping between my legs, his head tipping back with a groan at what he finds. “So fucking wet!” I whimper as his thumb settles firmly on my clit, two thick fingers sliding into me.
I buck against his hand as he thrusts into mine. “Come on me,” I demand. I love feeling so caged in, the wall at my back and his body leaning over mine. I squeeze his knot again and he erupts with a groan, his balls drawn up tight, thick spurts of white cum landing on my breasts and belly. There’s so much of it, and it’s such a fucking turn on. I buck against his hand, only to cry out when he pulls it away.
His fingers glisten as he runs them through the mess he’s made on me, circling my nipple. He lifts his hand to my mouth and I don’t even recognise myself as I open wide, sucking on his fingers with a groan as he whispers, “Taste us,” in a tone that is so wonderfully dominant.
He dips those same fingers back through his cum, tracing a line down my stomach. I sigh with relief when he fucks his cum-coated fingers back into me, adding a third, the stretch leaving me feeling so pleasantly full. “I want your knot,” I tell him. “I want you to fuck me, and I want that knot.”
“You’ll have it babe.”
The cum is washed off and Brett wraps me in a towel. I’m carried to the bedroom and laid out naked on the bed. Brett’s mouth descends on my cunt, and the first lick of his tongue makes us both sigh with pleasure. “I missed this,” he says, his lips brushing across my skin.
I missed you.
I don’t say it. It feels too vulnerable, which is ironic given our current positions, but there’s matters of the flesh and then there’s matters of the heart, and I haven’t let a man get to my heart in a long, long time. Instead I brush my hands through his thick hair, throwing my head back as he licks me to the brink of an orgasm. “Don’t stop,” I beg, my legs shaking, and he doubles down, sucking on my clit in a way that sends me over the edge with scream, my cunt pulsing around nothing.
“Come here,” I urge him in the aftermath. I’m desperate to be filled, but he shakes his head, his tongue curling around my entrance, a moan escaping his lips.
“One more,” he growls, and it is all the warning I get before his long tongue presses into me. Holy fuck. He grabs my hand, leading my fingers to my clit, and I can see the smile in his eyes as I obey, touching myself. I’m caught in his gaze, soul open and laid bare as I give him one more.
“I knew you were nervous about this doco. I didn’t want you watching it alone.”
I curl up on Brett’s lap, offering him the bag of microwave popcorn. He grabs a handful, cursing softly at the heat. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you they’re still hot. And thank you for coming all this way. I really appreciate it.”
He plants a kiss on my head. “I care about you,” he murmurs as the documentary intro starts, bang on ten PM. It’s so late because it’s streaming simultaneously with Australian networks, and that’s the biggest indication of all that this is a big deal. I shiver, thinking about the early days of the Unravelling. It reminds me of that time, when everyone was so panicked.
“I worry about this because of Ellie,” I say, as a preview of what’s to come plays. Interviews of people who have had loved ones disappear without a trace, stories of portals to the First Realm opening out of the blue… some of it seems a bit too much like conspiracy theories, until the image of a deer with glowing green eyes and antlers covered in blossoms flashes up on screen. I grip Brett’s arm tight, my heart beating rapidly. Those antlers look just like Ellie’s when she uses her magic.
“They won’t ever get to her. I promise you. Van will never let that happen.”
“But they almost did.” Brett was there last year. He’s the one that filled me in on the full story, letting me know just how much danger my daughter was in at the beginning of summer. I’d be more offended that Ellie never told me the truth about it all, but I know she was just trying to protect me.
I spend the next hour huddled in Brett’s arms, crying in sympathy for all the mothers whose changeling children have been stolen away by the fairies. There are so many abduction stories — far more than I realised — and plenty with photographic or video evidence to back it up. This post-Unravelling world is wonderful in so many ways, but it is also so bloody terrifying that sometimes I do wish that we could go back to the way things were before.
I feel awful for thinking that while in the arms of a wolf shifter. He can finally be himself, finally shift whenever he wants to. His body is now the body it was always supposed to be. He feels more whole since the Unravelling. I don’t want him to ever lose that aspect. I’m so happy for him and his daughter.
I just want to know for certain that my daughter and her future children will always be safe, too.
There’s such a size difference between us that when Brett is on top of me it feels like I’m being smothered in the best possible way. I throw my arms around him, clinging on as he fucks me slowly in the dark. I don’t know which one of us woke first — all I know is that as soon as his lips were on mine, there was only one way things were ending. Leaving the bottle of lube right there on the nightstand was the best decision, making it oh so easy for us.
I run my lips over his chest and nip at his shoulder, making him growl. His pupils are wide in the dark, full-blown and utterly captivating as I stare up at him. He picks up the pace, snarling, and I don’t know why it’s such a mental turn on, but it is. It’s like a switch flipping in my body, my hand rubbing my clit even faster, and I come with a deep groan.
“That’s it babe,” he whispers, fucking me through it. He pushes his knot into me with one deep thrust just as my orgasm fades, and I scream, the pressure of it a fresh jolt to my core, my cunt spasming around him again.
“Fuck,” he hisses, coming himself. He collapses on top of me in the aftermath, and I love it. I trace circles on his back until he shudders, and together we roll so that I now lie atop his chest. I fall asleep on him, feeling wonderfully boneless and satisfied.
“You okay?”
I nod, my heart still racing as I stand naked in front of the open door, staring out at the dark and letting the wind hit my skin, thankful that no one else is around outside. The hot flash just had to happen tonight while I had a man in bed — a man who is very hot to touch, to begin with — and I jumped out as soon as I started to sweat.
“Just hormones,” I say. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. It should calm down in a few minutes, then I’ll come back to bed. You go.”
“I’ll stay.” He comes to stand behind me, lifting my hair off of my back. A moment later I shiver as I feel the sweat on my back cool more, and realise he’s blowing on my skin.
“Thank you,” I whisper. He keeps it up, stopping only when I sigh and turn around to face him. “It’s over.” I still feel out of sorts, but when he bends, picking me up in his arms with ease, I melt into him. Together we lock the door, and then he carries me back to bed, the whole event feeling like a fever dream.
I love how comfortable Brett is here in my house. He wanders around in nothing but a towel slung low over his hips, sipping on his coffee as he examines all the pictures on the wall. Most of them are of Ellie over the years, a few with her and I together, as well as some of my dad, and my treasured photo of Mum, her arm around me, my pregnant belly obvious thanks to the bikini I’m wearing. Dad took that photo just a month before Mum died, and it’s special to me that Ellie is there in it too.
Brett turns to me, eyeing the clothes I’m wearing. “Are you going for a run this morning?”
I nod, tying my hair back into a pony. “I thought I’d be more sore this morning, but I’m knot ,” I joke, earning me an eye roll from Brett.
“I’ll join ya, if you like. Unless you think I’ll freak out the locals a little too much.”
It takes me a second to realise he means he’ll join me in his shifted form. “Uh, yeah, join me! That’ll be fun.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. We might get some strange looks, but who cares? There’s a few non-humans around here these days. No wolves in this bay, but there’s an orc family just down the road.”
He nods, staring out the glass door at the ocean, where it’s still a little windy, but nothing like last night. There’s not such a great outlook here, with the main house blocking most of the view of the water, but there’s still a small section of water visible between houses and fences. “I’ll meet you outside,” he says, unwrapping his towel. I take it from him, smiling at the view of his gorgeous butt as he steps outside into the cold winter air.
By the time I step outside, Brett is in his wolf form. He grins , lips pulling back to reveal his set of sharp teeth, tail wagging adorably as I descend the small set of stairs. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him behind one ear. It’s still very strange to me that this is the man I fucked only a few hours ago. I didn’t grow up knowing about magic and supernatural creatures — no one did! — but I’m not afraid or nervous or wary of Brett here. If anything, I find the fact that he turns into a wolf exciting.
I take a few minutes to stretch and warm up under Brett’s watchful gaze. When I first started running I used to skip this step, but I quickly learned that was the fastest way to a preventable injury.
“Come on, let’s run.”
We do get some strange looks, but no one says anything, and I love running beside him. He sprints ahead to chase a flock of seagulls on the shore, the happy wag of his tail and excited bark making me laugh as he circles back to me. I could get used to this. It’s a terribly stressful thought.
“You’re really quiet this evening,” Brett says, and there’s a deep crease between his brows as he looks at me with concern.
Brett and I have had the loveliest three days spent in each other’s company. This man understands me on a level no one else has ever done, and he fucks me so good, but tomorrow he heads home to Motuwai, and it’s been messing with my head. As much as I’d love to, I can’t take time off work every week and neither can he. He has his time with his daughter every weekend. I have my dad up here, and he doesn’t have many years left in him. I need to spend as much time with him as possible.
Between the wait times for the ferry and the inevitable stops along the way, travelling from here to Motuwai is a five hour journey, and I just don’t see how any of this can work.
I’m too scared to tell Brett this. I don’t want to burst this bubble. I don’t want him to know how stressed I suddenly feel inside because I have messaged or called him every day since April and he’s become a fixture in my life. It’s like I blinked and suddenly everything I think about relates back to him, and I don’t know if this is normal. The last time I was in this position with a man it didn’t go well. Our lives didn’t blend. It broke my heart.
I want to pause time. I want to pump the brakes. I don’t want to stop this and yet I do. I’m panicking, and I think he can tell.
“I’m just tired,” I say.
If I’m uncharacteristically quiet then so is he. There’s no words, no dirty talk, no I love this and fuck you smell good this morning. There’s just desperation, thick in the air and obvious in every bruising kiss, in every bite, in the way he sucks on my neck hard enough that I know it’s going to bruise. His fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as he fucks me from behind, hard and fast. He covers my body, his chest to my back, and bites at my shoulder as he knots me, growling continuously as my cunt spasms around him and his cum fills me.
In a different world we could have met sooner. Could have made babies together. Could have had a life that blended well instead of feeling like we’re being pulled in opposite directions.
We cuddle, knotted on the bed. I hold it together just long enough for his knot to pull free, but my heart aches and I hate this.
“We can make it work,” he says.
I shake my head, my vision blurry with tears. “You have to stay where your daughter is. You have to prioritise her. You have her every weekend, so how can this ever work? I can’t take you away from her! And I have to be where my dad is. I’m the only person he has.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“No.”
“Amaia.”
“ No. I need you to go. And I need… I need to pull the pin on this.”
“ Why? ” There’s an anger in his voice that I haven’t heard before. I watch him dress, unable to answer, continuously wiping at the tears that won’t stop falling. When he looks at me, I shake my head. I can’t answer that question. I don’t know the answer to it.
“Do you really want to end this?” he asks, his face etched with pain.
No.
“Yes,” I say.
Brett
We could have made this work. I would have made this work.
I’m sorry.