Chapter 42
A bloody ritual.
I raced across the barren grass toward Monqilcolnen who was doing the same.
We’d spent most of this session and the last apart, as our clans had gone back to warring, tearing us apart.
But we, and our characters, didn’t want to be apart.
His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to him, and I gripped the back of his neck.
While logically I could understand that only a short time had passed in reality, in game play it had been nearly a month.
“Wyn,” he breathed.
“They’re coming after me,” I said in a rush after choosing the selection. “We don’t have long.”
He shook his head. “I won’t allow them to take you from me.”
“I don’t wish you to harm them,” I said in return. Getting a happy ending was hard in these stories, and I feared we were charging toward a tragedy.
Monqilcolnen cupped my cheek. “And I do not want them to harm you.”
I melted. Even in this experience, Monqilcolnen was so nice and protective. The choices appeared, and for the first time, I chose silence. I didn’t think anything needed to be said. Rather, I rested my head on his chest.
“We can’t separate,” Monqilcolnen said, holding me tight.
My turn came up and four choices to respond appeared before my eyes. I ran over the selection, struggling to pick. I wanted the happy ending, but I didn’t think it would happen. However, I wasn’t going to give up. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “You belong to me.”
“Yes.”
“I want to be your shield.”
Monqilcolnen pressed against me.
My eyes were barely glancing at the options before I decided. The story was moving so quickly and my soul was pounding. It seemed to be mirroring our actual relationship, though no one, besides that loathsome Vorjyn, was attempting to keep Monqilcolnen and I apart.
I blinked when the next options appeared. I had two. The first was to enact an ancient tradition I’d only read of, and the second was to keep comforting Monqilcolnen. If I chose the first, it would trigger a different scene path. This was a huge choice.
Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate, but… well, this particular ritual involved more blood than I was comfortable with. I didn’t want to faint in front of Monqilcolnen, and yet I knew my character would complete the ritual without hesitation.
I rested a hand over my throbbing soul and said again, “I wish to be your shield.”
Monqilcolnen cocked his head.
“But more than that, I trust you to guard me,” I said.
“Wyn?”
I undid my wrap, and the white fabric fell, gathering around my waist. I hooked my claw under one of the thickest scales, which rested over my pounding soul.
They were called soul scales. They were thickest to protect our lifeforce, but if damaged or removed, it was unlikely they would grow back, leaving us vulnerable.
It was one of the most sacred rituals for us, though it hadn’t been performed in so long.
He rested his hand over mine, stalling me. “You do not have to. I know your soul and who I am to you.”
My soul throbbed. Perhaps performing this experience had been a bad idea.
I wished Monqilcolnen was saying these things to me as himself.
But he wasn’t, and I had to keep going. I gently pushed his hand down.
“I wish to show you, to show everyone. You are mine, but more than that. I trust you with my life.”
My claw dug under one of my soul scales, and I pulled.
Thank the Crystal, I couldn’t feel it because it was simulated, not real, but green blood gushed out of the wound and down my chest. My vision swayed, but I continued on, yanking all of my soul scales in the experience out.
Buzzing filled my ears, and my sight wavered.
I swallowed convulsively to keep my surging bile where it belonged.
Monqilcolnen said something, but I couldn’t hear him over the noise in my ears. His lips moved, then he pulled off his own tunic and reached for his soul scales. With each pull, I winced, struggling to not to vomit. I swayed, sweat gathering on my forehead and dampening my palms.
He spoke again, but I still couldn’t hear him and the black spots floating in front of my eyes were growing. I tried to say something, but my mouth didn’t work. I made it one step toward him, then my knees gave out and I crumbled, darkness washing over me.
I whipped forward and caught Wyn, drawing him toward me and holding him close. “Peace,” I called, shaking him. “Peace. Wyn.”
His eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”
My soul unclenched. I sat down, taking Wyn with me and placed him on my lap. “NAID, freeze program.” The experience paused. I told Wyn, “You fainted.”
He shoved his face against my chest. “Ugh, no.”
Unable to help it, I chuckled and dragged his face up, cupping his jaw. “Do not be embarrassed.”
“I am,” he whined, trying to hide again, but I wouldn’t allow him to.
Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I said, “Please don’t hide from me.”
“Why do I do the most embarrassing things in front of you?”
“I like to think it’s because you’re comfortable with me.”
Wyn frowned.
Laughing, I said, “Perhaps it’s just luck.”
He snorted. “Bad luck.”
“No,” I commented, placing another kiss on his forehead. “It’s the best sort of luck.”
“So you enjoy me vomiting on you and fainting in front of you?”
“Enjoy might be too strong a word.”
Finally, I got a chuckle from him. Wyn pushed his face against my neck and inhaled, sending heat to my cock. I swallowed against the burgeoning desire. Resting his ear against my chest, Wyn said, “Blood is not my strength.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s fairly common knowledge.”
“Not to me.” I tangled my fingers in his braid. “I want to know everything about you.”
“I want to know everything about you.”
“Even if I’m bad with blood?”
Wyn looked up at me. “Are you?”
“No. Blood doesn’t bother me.”
He gave me a deep frown but settled back against my chest. My arms were loose around his trim waist, and my tail slid up and down his spine.
His wings twitched beneath my touch, and I longed to set them free.
I loved when Wyn spread his wings and protected me.
I also loved the sight of the leather of his harness against his scales in a way that was completely new to me, but one I wished to explore deeper.
I tucked a hand under his tunic and rubbed the small of his back. Wyn moaned, and I swallowed. I slipped a finger under the waistband of his trousers to tickle the sensitive scales around his tail.
“Monqilcolnen.” Wyn sat up. “We’re not here to fuck.”
“We could,” I commented.
“We could, but we’re not going to. We’re going to finish this session.”
“As long as you are feeling well enough.”
“I am,” he said.
With my hands on his waist, I helped Wyn up, then rose to my own feet. I couldn’t help but smile down at him, my fingers flexing on his hips. Never would I have thought I’d get this, and now that I did, I couldn’t live without it—without him—in my life.
“Let’s finish,” Wyn said.
“Yes,” I agreed, though I didn’t let him go.