Chapter Twenty-Three
Wanda
She wasn’t sure what woke her, but Wanda lay listening to Christa’s soft breathing. She could tell from the rhythm that her love was deeply asleep. The leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, but no other sound carried in her nook.
When she shut her eyes, she found herself unable to settle. Something wasn’t quite right beyond her trees. She carefully untangled herself from Christa where they had fallen asleep after their epic…
Her body heated, desire building fast in her core. It was shocking how, even without really thinking too hard about what they had done the day before, the arousal continued to hum in her sex. They had spent hours re-topping the bath with hot water while Wanda had touched herself multiple times, bringing herself to orgasm. Insatiable, one orgasm after another, the silky feel of her bare mound doing something indescribable to her, which only became enhanced further with Christa whispering her naughty commands in her ear.
What shocked her was that she had bitten Christa. She buried her head in her hands, hiding her embarrassment at the lack of remorse she felt at such an action. Such a show of possessiveness. She wanted to claim that the mark on Christa’s throat made her feel bad, but the taste of Christa’s blood had ignited her own.
A sound beyond the trees drew her attention, and she reached for the stone the king had given her on pure instinct. It pulsed against her skin, and she identified what had woken her.
Is the king outside? she asked her girls, choosing not to wake Christa yet.
He is.
What is he doing?
He’s just standing, staring at nothing, in the orchard.
Is he injured? A feeling of concern came, despite a niggle of worry about approaching the king alone.
No, he is unharmed, but his emotions are strong. Unbalanced.
Doing her best not to overthink what she was about to do, she crept out of her trees. Close back up to shield Christa.
They did as she requested, and a moment later, dressed, she walked silently towards the king, who looked like a statue in the moonlight, standing in her orchard.
When he didn’t seem to notice her, she asked softly, “Is there a reason you’re standing there like a statue in the moonlight?”
He glanced at her, his eyes pools of black in the moonlight.
When all he did was stare for longer than was polite, she checked her dress was covering everything. Her hair swayed over her shoulders as she used the moonlight to guide her closer to him.
His distress tainted the air, and she felt the weight of his immense sadness. “My trees are nervous even when I know you mean us no harm.” The stone that sat inside her trees was proof of that.
“We do not,” he rasped, clearly struggling to hold on to what was causing his pain.
It was easy to recall how the fear had not returned after his visit, even now, as he stood silently watching her. She had a lot to be grateful to this demon for. If she could help, she would.
“Then did you get lost in the forest searching for Dakata?” she persisted, attempting to find a way to get him to talk about what was on his mind.
The breeze picked up and her dress fluttered about her legs, drawing her attention to what she hadn’t initially noticed—though how she missed the nudity of an over seven-foot demon was beyond her. Her head quirked to the side, keeping her gaze from dipping. His emotions had been her immediate concern, not the lack of clothing.
Searching for something to say, she waffled, “Although the lateness of the hour would suggest that calling now may not be appropriate.”
She nearly sighed in relief when, a moment later, he wore a long, flowing robe and tied it at his waist.
“Where is Christa?” he asked, yet she sensed that was not what he wanted to say.
“She has some business to take care of in the demon realm, she will be along shortly. Did you wish to speak to her?” The lie rolled off her tongue, because going to get Christa was not what she thought the king wanted, she just couldn’t say why.
“I… there… yes… see…” he stuttered, not looking at her but at the ground.
Wanda was more attuned to the forest than many understood. Wanda felt Dougal’s distress, the building emotions he struggled to contain until she felt him release them. They shook her trees, giving her a blast of what had upset him. Dougal kept his personal life to himself, and Wanda honored that. She did, however, know there was something between him and this demon. The king’s presence in the forest, when he came to meet her, had not been the first time.
The king’s essence was there in the earth, the roots of the trees, the plants. For that to happen, he must have visited many times and had a connection to the one being who nurtured the forest since its inception—Dougal. She would never speak of it to anyone, it was not her place, but here and now she felt compelled to continue to talk, to see if it helped the demon. “Is it about Dougal?”
The quiet question got his eyes narrowing on her, but she never flinched. “What do you know? What has he said?”
She giggled before she could stop it at how his eyes actually glowed with hope. He was that easy to read. “You and he are a lot alike. Dougal has said nothing to me.” Her expression lost the playfulness and turned serious. “I am part of these trees, therefore part of the roots that reach into the ground. There is little in the forest that escapes the true forest dwellers, and I would say all that Dougal has been feeling of late, we feel, too.” She gave him what she felt he needed—the truth.
“Feel? What does he feel?” he asked, the words tumbling from his lips.
That was easy to answer. “Everything.”
He huffed, and she sensed his ire in the change in the breeze against her bare arms. “What kind of answer is that?”
“The only one.” She came closer, her need to touch him when she understood his fear better than most driving her to reach out and place a hand on his arm. “Fear can kill everything that is good with its shadow. It will smother a heart, the love within it, if one lets it.”
Asmodeus stared down at her hand as if not quite believing she had the audacity to touch him.
The sob that tore from his throat was harrowing and made her heart ache for him. The next one brought him to the ground, he sat like his legs could no longer support him and Wanda followed, sitting next to him, patting his hand gently. “That’s it. Let it out.”
As he shook, sobbing uncontrollably, she entwined her fingers as best she could in the massive, clawed hand, feeling him clinging to her. “It’s a heavy burden you carry. Put it down a while, then you might see your way more clearly.”
She knew the moment Christa woke and felt her panic at finding her gone. She blocked her, knowing any request she would deny.
Tell her I’m fine, you must keep her inside for now.
She is concerned.
I’m fine, she will know this. King Asmodeus is of no threat to us. He would be upset to be caught like this by one of his own kind.
She sat in silence, listening to his sobs quieten, while never letting go of her hand. When he finally looked up, her bottom was numb. His tear swollen, misery filled eyes met hers and she could feel his unease surface.
“This is a private moment. Just between us.”
He gave a jerky nod after a brief hesitation. “Thank you for your patience with me.” It was the first time she’d heard him be humble.
“You gave me a gift, took my fear away. I would say that spending time with a friend , sitting in the moonlight, is not a chore if I gave you a little of the solace you gave me.”
“You are a wise woman.”
She shook her head, curls tickling over her neck as they moved. “If I had been as wise as you say, I would not have rejected my blissful one in the beginning.”
He sighed heavily. “Then that makes two of us.”
Still holding his hand, she squeezed it. “The thing with a blissful one is that it’s never too late to change what is into what should be. A wise troll taught me that, just saying.”
Even in the moonlight, she could see the way his shoulders went from stooped to straight. It appeared he’d come to a decision.
She hoped it would give both him and Dougal what they wanted. “Maybe you should go back to your realm and get some sleep before you decide about your… future.”
He rose stiffly, rubbing at his backside, before offering Wanda a hand to help her up. “Please, all I ask is that you don’t speak of my visit… for now.”
“Of course.” She tugged the huge hand, getting a wide-eyed, startled look before he went with her tugging and bent closer to her. Not overthinking it, she gave him an awkward hug because he was just too big to wrap her arms around.
“We’re friends. I don’t suspect you have many of those in your position. I’m here whenever you wish to talk.” She pulled back, dropping her arms, and offered a soft smile. “Day or night.”
“You are more than I deserve.” He bowed and, in a blink, was gone.
Seconds later, Christa burst out of the trees behind her. Wild hair flowed behind her as she rushed to her, naked in her demon form, patting her down as if to check she was unharmed.
Wanda giggled, getting swept off the forest floor. Kisses were peppered all over her face as Christa murmured, “I was so worried. Why was the king here? Why did you block me? Tell the girls not to let me outside? Do you know how stressful this was?”
The questions kept coming, and Christa didn’t take a breath to pause and let her answer. Wanda took matters into her own hands and slipped her arms around Christa’s neck and kissed her.
Her lips parted invitingly, feeling Christa’s pounding heart beating hard against hers. “I’m fine. All is well. He just needed a quiet place to think,” she whispered between kisses. “Now, let’s go back to bed, where you can reassure both your demon and human side that I’m perfectly unharmed.”
Christa’s dark eyes glowed in the moonlight. “That could take the rest of the night.”
She gave what she hoped was a seductive smile. “Maybe the girls need to help?”
“I love how you think.”
So do we.
They all laughed as the branches lifted them both into the nook and closed the world out.