13. Chapter Twelve
13
Nicholas
W illiam and Charmaine stalked ahead. Nicholas trailed their steps. William’s shoulders remained rigid after their kiss, since he hesitated and Nicholas perceived worry and realization in those typically stoic eyes. Pride swelled, an insurmountable yearning. Riling William up proved as fun as predicted. He was never anything less than surprising. That’s what drove Nicholas toward him. A curious viper investigating the hawk’s nest, knowing he could strike but would face razored claws.
“Won’t you let me look at you?” William asked while inspecting the herbs Charmaine found during her earlier search for them.
“Save your strength,” she replied. “Arden and I downed those three beasts and one disciple, but it was rough. They could have killed us, should have, and I don’t know why they didn’t.”
“Because Fearworn got what he wanted.”
“He has the book?” Charmaine spun on Nicholas. “You let him steal the book? We went through all this for nothing?!”
“Not for nothing,” Nicholas replied nonchalantly.
“Are you going to elaborate?”
“No.”
Charmaine snarled. William pressed a hand to her shoulder. She cursed Nicholas under her breath, then continued toward a pillar of smoke rising from the forest. Nicholas didn’t follow. Fearworn could be anywhere. The last thing he wanted was to be in range of all of Fearworn’s targets.
Shutting his eyes, Darkmoon’s power trickled through him like dipping one's fingers into icy waters. So far from home, it took a moment longer for the chill to slip into his mind. When his eyes opened, a blurry sight greeted him. In Faerie, he’d see clearly. In Terra, he struggled to realize Fearworn was in the sky. Clouds dispersed as his miasma seeped around him, the one that wrought Nicholas with excitement and fear.
He doubted he could beat Fearworn alone. His kin would have to be at his back, which wasn’t an encouraging thought. The moment Fearworn approached, Nicholas understood what he could become. A lost shade didn’t constrain power. The power fed on them, ate away at their mind and body.
Fearworn held a regal posture, but his blood left a foul taste in Nicholas’ mouth, like rot and death. The bastard was more a corpse moving on wrath and twisted curiosity. Who he was before no longer remained.
Nothing frightened Nicholas more than losing himself entirely to a power he never asked for. Falling to a beast he couldn’t fight against, not knowing what or who he would become. Being without control, lost in despair, falling forever, or disappearing entirely. It was terrifying, and potentially his future, one he didn’t ask for, one that he was simply born to and told all his life that he walked a destined path of horror and despair. It was unfair, he knew that to be a childish thought but it was true. Why was he cursed? Why couldn’t he escape fate?
Fearworn didn’t appear to be circling them, so Nicholas let the sight slip away. When he opened his eyes, he continued forward to gaze upon Arden’s mangled body leaning bloody against the trunk of a ruined tree. His right leg barely clung to his form and acid had deteriorated his left arm. If Nicholas had to guess, a dozen bones were broken, too. The worst of the injuries was a branch piercing his chest. The beasts and a disciple laid dead nearby. Charmaine took one monster out, the smoke came from its sizzling flesh. The others laid in a pool of blood, bodies broken beyond recognition and wrangled by the forest, Arden’s doing.
Nicholas chuckled. “You’ve seen better days.”
“Those damned shadowed disciples were more than expected.” Arden coughed. Blood trickled from his mouth. He growled when Charmaine set the bone back correctly in his shoulder.
“Are you not going to help your friend?” she snapped. “He’s dying.”
“He’ll live. We are far more resilient than your lot.” Nicholas yanked the branch out of Arden’s chest. Blood gushed, and Arden released a drawn-out groan.
“If you aren’t going to help, then fuck off,” William warned. He pressed both hands over Arden’s wound that slowly stitched itself together.
“So unappreciative.” Nicholas dropped to the ground, legs crossed. “I am about to be more than helpful by tracking that bastard.”
“Track?” Arden repeated, voice weakened and low. “Fearworn? How?”
“A secret for me to know and you to never find out.” Nicholas let Darkmoon’s power overtake him. He ignored the voices, Charmaine and William arguing over how to tend to Arden, some whines from Arden, then nothing.
Wind whistled against Fearworn’s ears. The sun warmed his skin. Occasionally, Nicholas’ blurred vision cleared to reveal the world below. The evergreen forest of the Deadlands was the only thriving thing for they stretched on and on. There were few discernable marks on the land. The gorge they passed before, a pond Fearworn swept over, then another ruined village twice the size of the last. Potentially what was once the capital based on the massive center building, though now nothing more than crumbled remains. Then Fearworn plummeted. The clouds dispersed to expose a mysterious form masked behind chunks of broken mountain range. Similar to Lockehold, the citadel sat along the edge of a high rockline, carved into gray stone.
Nicholas hissed as he lost sight for a long moment. William and Charmaine’s worried words infiltrated his mind. He ignored them, willing Fearworn’s vision to return. In Darkmoon, he could have sat like this uninterrupted for hours. Terra proved complicated and disappointing as ever.
Fearworn stood along a ledge, overlooking the work below. A Scar glistening with foreboding light cut through the sky, bigger than any recorded. The Scar wavered, like looking through foggy glass from the first winter chill. Monsters crowded the portal, species of which Nicholas had never seen. Their numbers were too great, far more than what the military brought. If Fearworn unleashed these beasts before Nicholas returned, it’d be a slaughter, and he’d be remiss not to be a part of it.
“Can Arden be moved?” he asked, setting aside Fearworn’s sight. A green paste stained Arden’s chest where the wound lessened in size and his right leg sat correctly on his person.
“Normally, I advise against it, but we must get away from this carcass. Fearworn might return or his beasts will land for a snack,” William replied. Sweat coated his brow and hands shook from all the energy spent on healing. He wouldn’t meet Nicholas’ eyes, either.
“Fearworn’s army is far worse than predicted,” Nicholas declared. “For him to attack, I think it is safe to surmise that our scouts are closing in on our location. He got to us before they could. We must find them and inform the generals.”
“How do you know about his army?” Charmaine asked, brows furrowed.
“I saw it.” He knelt in front of Arden. “Put this one on my back and let’s get moving.”
“How did you see it?”
“We need to move. Now,” he said.
Arden stifled his anguished groans as the others shifted him onto Nicholas’ back. He clung to Arden’s bloody legs and trekked on. They moved with haste and remained vigilant. Charmaine and William circled like hounds, intent on preventing another attack. They stopped briefly when one stumbled upon herbs. William claimed using them didn’t drain as much energy, although it was too late for that. Dark bags formed beneath his eyes and his steps swayed from building exhaustion.
As the sun set, Nicholas spotted a perfect place to make camp, a line of carriages wrecked along the side of what once must have been a road. Their wheels were shattered and tarps torn, but much of the exterior structure remained. Charmaine and William eased Arden into a carriage that set flat on the ground, the wheels long since rotted away. A few flicks of Nicholas’ hands and roots encased the carriage, then a pile of snow, so they appeared as nothing more than a mound in the forest. Even the dim firelight Charmaine created within didn’t melt the snow, allowing them to remain warm, sheltered, and hidden.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Nicholas offered.
“I don’t trust your kindness,” Charmain muttered. Sleep laced her voice.
“This is self preservation. Either of you may fall asleep and we’ll be devoured by spion offspring.”
Although William rolled his eyes, he settled beside Charmaine for a rest that never truly came. The man shifted and turned long after Charmaine’s breaths changed to soft snores and stars lit the sky, though the gray skies of the Deadlands paled their light. They existed as no more than specks, incapable of sharing their ethereal light with the world.
Nicholas contemplated spying on Fearworn, but decided against it. There were monsters out here keen on tearing out their throats. He remained alert, gaze shifting through the bleak woods. He pondered all that lived in the dark, monsters taken from their homes and brought to fight, not much different than him.
A few hours passed. The carriage creaked. William stepped past Nicholas into the cool air, crossing his arms and rubbing his hands along his biceps. “We can switch,” William said.
“You haven’t slept,” Nicholas argued, his eyes incapable of straying from the embodiment of desire standing beside him. He hated the air that damned man breathed, and yet, he wanted to taste every breath on his tongue.
“I slept some.”
“Barely.” William’s back went rigid when Nicholas asked, “Since you are awake, are we going to speak on important matters?”
“What important matters?”
“Our kiss, how we want each other.”
“What I want is for your lips to seal forever.”
“I am sure there are ways to change your mind.” He approached William, smirking at the familiar cold eyes he was exceptional at sharing. “There is nothing wrong with lust, with a little shared adventure in the twilight hours.”
“There is when that adventure is a trick for a spoiled fae brat intent on causing havoc.” William lurched around the remnants of another carriage, one leaning against the hillside, knowing Nicholas would follow. “I know what you want. I know this is a game for you. A test of your deceptions to see what you can get me to agree to. How is this a winning scenario for me in any form?”
“What if I make an oath not to reveal what transpires tonight to any soul, living or dead?” Nicholas suggested.
William curled his nose. He suspected William wanted to ask if he could speak to the dead. The answer was yes. There were plenty of places in Faerie where the dead walked, but he didn’t share that.
“Why are you so insistent? Speak honestly,” William demanded.
“I already have.” He caught William by the chin, bringing them eye to eye. “You know I cannot lie. I also like the danger, the rush. I will not speak to any soul, living or dead, about what transpires between us tonight, or any other.”
“You speak as if there will be a tonight or any other.”
“I am speaking about what I hope will come to fruition. For you, I would even beg if it means I can spend a single evening between your legs.”
William grew quiet. Time lingered, stretched, unfurled before them beneath a dreary sky.
“Then beg,” William ordered.
If he believed that to be a twisted lie, Nicholas surprised him by dropping to his knees. William’s breath caught. His skin blazed beneath the shade’s curious fingers, brushing past the ruins of his uniform.
“Let me take you,” Nicholas said, pressing a harsh kiss to the skin of William’s stomach. He sucked in a breath that didn’t stop the fae’s keen lips from mapping his skin. “Give me an evening and I’ll ensure you will not forget it, that it will be me you dream of when any other fucks you.”
“That’s a mighty promise to make, even for you.”
“You should have learned by now that I love a challenge and I am not one to disappoint, even more so because I want you.” His teeth tore into William’s trembling hip. He soothed the wound with his tongue, relishing in the shivers his mouth provoked. “If your mortal gods are real, then I do not doubt they set you in my path purely to torment me. I’ve never wanted one as I have wanted you. Please. Let me have a taste of you, my wicked.”
William’s lips stilled, eyes mysterious beneath the shaded trees, then he unbuckled his belt. Nicholas tugged those wretched trousers off to get what he desired. He devoured the skin presented to him, enjoying the catch in William’s breath.
He didn’t hesitate to pleasure his partner tonight. William would put an end to this if things didn’t go his way and he may burn this forest to the ground if that happened. His hand worked William’s base as he marked all that he could. Leaving harsh kisses along William’s hip and thigh until his mouth slipped over a rosy arousal. William rewarded Nicholas with a low moan. Sounds he couldn’t imagine William making and adoring that they came out now, desperate for more. His pace had William slipping his fingers into Nicholas’ hair.
The sound of their lies set Nicholas’ chest ablaze. William would hate for the others to wake and find him like this, coming undone by the mouth of a fae he hated. He was tempted to make that happen, to unravel William so completely that his cries woke all that slumbered, but dare he say he would be jealous, that he would hate any other to hear William like this.
William nearly ripped out his hair when he dared to depart. Goosebumps broke out across the medic’s skin, though that didn’t cease the frantic rolling of his hips into Nicholas’ palm. Those reserved eyes darkened, set above pink tinted cheeks.
“Your beauty is best like this, desiring me,” he purred against William’s trembling thighs.
One of his clawed hands ran along William’s body, tugging up a useless shirt. He stood slowly, taking his time to savor the skin presented to him. His tongue ran over the pink nipple that caught his eye days back, relishing in the taste of William’s sweat. He was a glorious indulgence.
“And your mouth is best like this. Dare I say that you’re almost tolerable,” William replied, sounding far too composed for his liking.
“Your moans tell me I am more than tolerable.”
Nicholas’ teeth sank into the dreg’s chest and his hand pumped William faster. William’s moans grew from the ravenous attention of the shade’s lips over his chest. That was what he wanted, to wreck that typically calm disposition, to make William his in a way that couldn’t be denied, that would stay with them always.
He marked William’s shoulder and up his neck to take his lips in a hungry kiss. He tasted forbidden, ominous, and dangerously sweet. Then of copper when Nicholas tore into a bottom lip. William returned the favor, nails piercing his neck while the other hand slipped beneath Nicholas’ trousers. The first touch of calloused hands on his cock had Nicholas reeling. Their eyes met, and Nicholas found his hungry reflection in William’s lustful eyes.
“I can’t wait for you to cry out my name,” Nicholas said.
William smirked, confident even with his cheeks flushed. “Are you so confident that it will be your name? What if I’m thinking of another?”
“Dare to call out for another and I will find them and slit their throat.”
“Aren’t you a romantic?” William grunted when Nicholas abruptly turned him. He returned to his knees and William panted against a curious tongue fervently pleasuring his backside.
He wanted William to beg and scream, but the fire hissed and Charmaine released a quiet cough as a remembrance of their lies. Of how the others would find them should they wake, though that wouldn’t stop him from curling his tongue and relishing in the shivers wracking William’s frame.
William bucked against Nicholas’ mouth. He reached around William to take hold of his cock. The medic’s breath stuttered, legs trembling and hips rocking violently against the double stimulation. He relished in every sound William made, but when he rose and his pants fell around his ankles, William turned.
He caught Nicholas in a rough kiss, then grabbed the fae’s arm to shove him toward the nearby carriage. His back met the creaking floor and William straddled him. Their bodies collided in a wave of ecstasy. He groaned when William rode him hard and fast, never relenting as the carriage creaked beneath the frenzied jerks of his body.
Nicholas wanted to break him. To take him to the point of unrivaled pleasure and bask in the moment where the smug dreg couldn’t do more than moan; all the while knowing the one about to make him finish was that annoying fae he despised so much.
He ran a hand up William’s body to slip around his neck. William grunted from the rough yank down for a kiss, messy and erotic and rough. Their thrusts slowed until Nicholas growled against William’s ears, “I want to tear you apart.”
Sitting up, William chuckled. “As if you could.”
Nicholas slammed forward, relishing in William’s fingers curling against his chest. He couldn’t stop their sex even if Fearworn’s beasts were upon them. Too lost to the heat suffocating his arousal, burning him from the inside out, too overtaken by William’s stifled groans and the sight of him riding Nicholas like he was made for this purpose.
When they met, he wanted to break the bastard. He never knew he wanted it like this, enraptured by William’s beauty, the paleness of his skin, the taste of his sweat, the warmth of his backside, and the melody of his voice. Though Nicholas didn’t receive the screams he desired, that excited him more, a challenge that the mortal would no doubt make exceedingly difficult. William took him to a high he never wanted to leave, and yet couldn’t wait for the fall.
William’s hips thrashed, devious as his words. Nicholas’ nails tore crescent shapes into his backside, bucking when he dared to still. “Why’d you stop?” William groaned.
“I don’t want this to end yet. Consider this punishment for making me wait,” he replied.
William kissed his neck, finally sounding breathless. “Isn’t tolerating you punishment enough?”
“I believe I’m more than making up for my previous transgressions.”
“You’re forgetting how insufferable you are,” William moaned when Nicholas smacked his ass. He didn’t miss the shiver and smacked him again. William’s eyes were alight with pleasure, lips swollen, and hair a tangled mess, illuminated by pale orange firelight.
Nicholas enjoyed the dander in his eyes, the glare threatening an end to their evening if he pushed him too far. He liked even more when those eyes clouded with lust from the abrupt thrusting of his hips and the touch of his hand smoothing over William’s arousal. Exactly what William wanted as he tore into his lip to stifle the sounds of their sex.
“Come for me,” Nicholas demanded, savoring the stutter in William’s breath followed by an orgasm that left him shaking. William hid his face against Nicholas’ shoulder and muffled his noises by catching the shade’s skin between his teeth. Nicholas followed shortly, drowning in a sea of finite bliss, fingers clawing William’s hips, bruising them and forgetting for a long moment that this was real. Neither stopped until they were spent, breathless and shivering under the falling snow.
“This is the moment where you take it back,” Nicholas whispered against the tasteful nape presented to him.
“What?” William hummed.
“That I couldn’t possibly know what a good fucking is.”
William laughed. He pushed himself onto his elbows and passed Nicholas a smug smirk. “I’ve fucked better.”
“Liar.” Nicholas kissed him more ravenously than ever.