Chapter Ten
Daphne
“How long until we stop for snacks?” I wonder.
Nash huffs against my neck. I glance over my shoulder, reveling in the way his body fits against mine while riding this horse. It’s my favorite part of the journey, and I will take any and all opportunities to rub against my knights, like a cat scenting her mate.
“This journey will take twice as long if you insist on eating every turn,” he mumbles, his eyes dropping to my lips.
“I’m a newborn,” I point out. “They need feeding more regularly than normal folk.” Not that I’ve ever looked after a babe. They are tiny and terrifying for a maiden who breaks more than she makes.
“How do you figure?” Hart asks. The forest has widened enough to accommodate some side-by-side riding, while Malachi is behind us with the judgy sword of doom at his side.
“I was literally born yesterday.”
That joke is only good for this diurnal, and I’m going to milk it given that other newborns can’t even speak. When you think about it, I am advanced for my age. Others don’t know the wonders of the realm that I have memories of, but they also don’t have the worries. Wait...
“Am I a virgin?” I whisper.
Nash stiffens behind me. Now it’s like leaning against a stone instead of a warm support pillow.
“What was that about a virgin?” Malachi calls out. “I hate to point it out, Daphne, but Nash has experience. You didn’t usher any of us into manhood.”
I screw my face up and laser him with a look I reserve for Prince Poopfloof. “Do not speak of prior conquests unless you want a detailed account of how Hansel—”
He slaps his hands over his ears. “La, la, la.”
That’s what I thought. Although it would take all of half a tempo to describe my deflowering, and that would be twice as long as the event itself, given he came quicker than my words.
“You are not a virgin,” Hart says with a wink.
I roll my eyes. “Not in my mind, but when my body was reformed from the stars, did it return to its previous state, or did I maintain my internals?”
“Um, I have no idea,” Malachi answers.
Nash’s arms squeeze against my sides. “We can have fun finding out though.” Darkness crawls close to his skin. Did I not notice before, or is it new?
“So, sausage,” I say, changing the subject. Because unless we’re dismounting right now to find out, I don’t want a pulsating floof with no hope of reprieve.
“Did she say sausage and pulsating floof?” Hart drawls with a slow smile. “Are you trying to flirt, Calamity?”
I snort. “Not a chance. They were inside thoughts. Ignore them. Focus on the lack of sausage situation.”
“It’s a realm emergency for sure,” Malachi calls out.
They’re teasing me about sausage while forgetting the importance of its absence. “A sausage a day keeps the ogres away.”
“Idols above, not the ogres,” Malachi answers.
“Have you ever tangled with one?”
“Well, no.”
“Then don’t disparage the system of protection.”
“She’s making nonsense make sense again,” Hart rumbles. “Make it stop.”
“Is it too much to wish for—”
Genie pops into the air before us. “You called?”
My brows lower, and I cock my head to the side. There’s something different about him. “Why are you green? And where did your eyebrows go?”
He glares at me for a tempo. “Wish or no wish?”
“Answer the question, and I’ll decide.”
“I’m not discussing the incident formally named ‘Grow a Genie in a Bottle.’”
I have no words. Wait, I do. “You were making mini genies?” I whisper as if it’s some tremendous secret.
He groans. “No, I have a date.”
“And she prefers her genies green and hairless?”
“Not quite. The hair loss wasn’t intentional. The green was a shimmery shade to highlight my eyes.”
“It’s more like smushy peas.”
“You mean mushy peas,” Nash corrects.
“Are they smushed?”
“Fair point.”
“Now I can’t go on my date,” the genie laments. “At least until it wears off.”
I didn’t realize there was a population of genies living their best lives away from the chaos of the realm. I guess they can’t sit around waiting for us to rub them out. That would be boring at best and soul-destroying at worst. I don’t think I could tolerate my own company for more than a diurnal.
“Back to the wish,” he prompts.
I wave him off. “Not today, Greenie.”
“Rude,” Genie snaps and disappears.
Malachi chuckles. I twist my neck from side to side and shuffle my butt in the saddle, gasping at the pain shooting through my back.
“You okay?” Nash asks.
“I think my back and butt are protesting the amount of riding I’m doing.”
He glances at the sky, shadowed by the thick branches rustling in the breeze. “Then we stop for the night.” I open my mouth, and he drops a kiss on it, making my thoughts skitter. He pulls away with a smirk. “We shall see what we can do about the sausage situation.”
“I have a solution,” Hart mutters.
“I think there’s a tavern about a turn’s ride from here,” Malachi says.
“Can you manage until then?” Nash asks with a furrowed brow as I grit my teeth and nod. I’ve endured worse. This is nothing.
I cease my complaining and take to narrating the forbidden forest to distract myself.
“Look at their eyes hiding in the brush,” I say. “They must be bored out here if watching three knights and their murderous maiden is what passes for entertainment.”
“It’s you they are watching, Daphne,” Nash says.
I point at a trio of glowing green orbs. “Real question. There are three eyes. Do they belong to one strange creature? Or three one-eyed strange creatures?”
Malachi leans forward to study them as they follow us. “What if it’s one normal two-eyed creature whose friend lost an eye?”
“Don’t encourage her nonsense,” Hart grumbles.
I gasp. “How sad. I hope that’s not the case.”
Nothing comes out for a closer look, and I think it’s because of the man behind me. They know they are in the presence of someone more terrifying than anything they possess.
Nash’s hand rests against my belly, holding me close and creating a need inside that won’t be satisfied until I have all my knights beside me, dragons included.
Well, one dragon in particular. Unless he has offspring with a pretty pink girly dragon.
My chest tightens. Theo better not have found someone breathing to rub against. It should take at least an annus to get over and move on from our love.
Veering off the path, Hart leads us down a less trodden route. The trees thin, their shadows stretching long and crooked like they’ve been pulled by invisible hands. The air smells less like moist moss and mushrooms and more like roasted meat and wood smoke.
“Do you smell that?” I murmur.
“Sausage,” Hart answers at the same time as Malachi.
My heart swells, and I sigh. “Finally, the realm answers my call.”
We crest a small rise, and the tavern comes into view.
It crouches in the clearing as if it’s hiding from the rest of the forest. Crooked beams and sagging roof tiles paint it as a strange mixture of quaint and a little scary.
The sign above the door swings on rusted chains, depicting a badly painted wolf wearing an apron.
It grins at us, brandishing a menacing rolling pin in one paw and a red cape draped over its arm like a dishcloth.
I worry about the girl it stole it from.
THE BBW
Still Big. Formerly Bad. Always Welcome.
Now Serving Delicious Vegetarian Breakfast.
I squint. “A reformed wolf? Stranger things have occurred, I’m sure.”
Malachi chuckles. “You are the stranger things.”
Hart dismounts first, scanning the surroundings with a scowl. “Stay close.”
Nash lifts me into Malachi’s arms as if I weigh nothing. His hands linger at my waist as his gaze traces the shape of my mouth. His tongue peeks out to wet his lower lip, and a shiver runs over my body.
Inside thoughts. Very inside thoughts.
The tavern door creaks open as we approach, releasing a warm wave of noise and light. Laughter. Clinking mugs. A fiddle playing something cheerful.
I step inside and blink. It’s exceptional in that it’s normal.
Wooden tables. A roaring fire. A bar polished to a shine.
Patrons of all sorts—dwarves, a talking goat in a waistcoat, and a pair of witches arm-wrestling in the corner.
And behind the bar stands an enormous gray wolf in a flour-dusted apron.
He pauses mid-pour and sniffs the air. Huge gray eyes lift to me. “No way,” he growls. “No freaking way. Of all the taverns in all the land, she walks into mine.”
Umm… I glance around, hoping for an explanation of the expletive or an indication if this is a positive or negative issue. I don’t think I pissed any wolves off, at least not in this life anyway. Oh, do I get a clean slate? On account of my rebirth?
“I can’t believe it,” the wolf growls, bringing me back to the moment.
“Hello. We’re looking for lodgings for the night,” I explain with a nervous glance at the patrons who appear fascinated by our group. “If you have the space.”
He squints and waves a huge paw in the air. “Daphne Stone, don’t you remember me?”
I squint at him as memories of the villain village return. “No freaking way.” This is the wolf who was having an unconventional love affair with Granny. “How have you been? Where’s Granny?” I ask.
He curls his lip, displaying his fangs. “I found her lifting her skirts for the piper. The things he was doing with that musical instrument should not be repeated.”
I cough into my fist to conceal my laughter. “I’m so sorry. She doesn’t deserve you.”
He shrugs. “It all worked out. She was holding me back. So, how have you been?”
“Dead, then resurrected murderous chaos maiden, and now hungry and tired.”
He nods once. “We have a strict no-murder policy, but I can help with the rest. Take the table by the kitchen, but avoid the one by the fire. Less flammable on account of the chaos.”
Malachi snorts.
We settle at a heavy wooden table, two away from the hearth. It’s still warm enough for the heat to kiss my icy fingers, and I sigh in contentment.