Chapter 23
ALEK
Iawoke to something tickling my nose. My head jolted backward as I blinked my eyes open.
Oh, shit. Oh, my fucking gods, it was Feloré. His hair was in my face. He was in my arms.
Hunger slammed into my stomach as I tried to orient myself, but it was impossible to think with how quickly my cock was swelling.
This was not a dream or some cruel hallucination. He was nestled in my arms, sleeping so serenely with his back huddled against my chest, the chain warm between our bodies. It was like we were two lovers cuddling after a long night of passion.
Except we sure fucking weren’t. We were captor and captive. Hunter and prey.
Even if a fire had sparked last night. It was maybe even more than a fire. It was almost like the threads of a true bond had formed when we’d stayed up far too late talking.
I’d never had such an honest conversation with a human, possibly with anyone.
He bravely asked me one million questions about my body, my wishes, and my plans for my future self—Where did you find these herbs?
Can you get more? A doctor? What kind of a doctor?
What do you mean he’s going to fix you? Tell me more. Tell me everything.
I didn’t have a million answers, but I’d shared what I knew. I’d shared my secrets with him.
It was like this exquisite human with his exquisite blue eyes had declared himself part of my life. Part of my plans. He even made us track down all the cigarettes in my chamber and line them up inside my desk drawer.
Seven. I only had seven. So long as I could use them sparingly, it was just enough to get me through his remaining days here, but I had to exercise restraint.
Not that this current situation was helping my need to smoke less.
My shoulders twitched as I licked my lips, leaning away from Feloré, just enough to glimpse the long silhouette of his spine. He was shirtless. I wished he was pantless.
The memories from last night were still painted vividly onto the walls of my mind, the metallic sting of his precious blood still on my tongue.
He’d thought about me. This sexy human chose to think about me as he pleasured himself. I got to tell him what I wanted to do to him. I got to taste his delicious cum—feel it dripping down my fingers, still so warm.
Feed me.
Well, fuck. My cock was all the way hard, the monster inside of me rising from my depths. The arm he lay atop was all the way asleep, which was fine. Let it fall off for all I cared, so long as it meant I got to stay here.
If I could somehow smoke without waking him. Without moving the succulent spiced dessert in my arms.
Perhaps, I could project a cigarette to me, but then the coughing would wake him.
Feed ME.
Goddammit. I died a little inside, but I gripped his shoulder and gently shook. “Feloré.”
He didn’t budge, his breathing slow with sleep. It’d been a long night, and he deserved to rest, but it was only a few minutes before it was going to get dangerous.
“Feloré.” I shook him again. “Human. You need to—”
He whimpered in his sleep. Then he wiggled his perfect ass against my cock, and I twitched harder.
FEED ME.
Oh, it fit just right. If I could see through the sheets and our trousers, I’d see how my cock was slipping perfectly between his gorgeous ass cheeks. Housed like a pistil inside soft petals. I pressed my hips against his to feel the thrill, my mouth watering.
EAT. EAT HIM.
I’d bet my eyes were turning red. I should so clearly stop.
“Feloré,” I said, shaking him harder. “Wake up—”
“Shhh,” he whined, swatting a hand, his words slurred. “Isss too loud.”
I gave the back of his head a look, but not before a smile split my face. The blessed absurdity. I added a touch of silk to my voice as I said, “Well, it’s not my fault you kept me up so late, human—”
“Shhh,” he said, drowsily. “For goddsake, Alek. Fuck-quiet.”
I squinted. Fuck-quiet?
“Thass better.” He reached back over his shoulder, patting my face in what I could only describe as sloppy slaps. “Nice boy.”
I scrunched my face as he continued to paw it.
“Nice demon boy.”
This fucking human. He couldn’t convince me there wasn’t a part of him that sort of liked playing with fire.
He startled awake when I gripped his hip bone, tugging his ass against my cock while I pressed my lips against his ear.
“I need to smoke,” I said. “And you need to get this perfect ass off me before I lose my whole goddamn mind.”
He jolted away, swiveling around to blink at me. His eyelashes were a tangled mess, and his hair was pure chaos, the white streak half-sticking straight up and half-spilling over his forehead.
But he looked exactly like a ruffled fox.
I grinned sweetly. “Good morning, my love.”
“What the—?” It was like his brain was trying to ask questions his tongue wasn’t prepared for as he glanced down at my raging hard-on. “Oh, gods.”
Oh, gods, indeed. “And what of the gods, darling? Think they’d approve?”
He blinked hard, dragging a hand down his face. “Approve?”
“Of you testing fate like this. Sleeping with your enemy. Nestling your sweet ass against him. Having the audacity to smell like a cinnamon scone the whole time.”
“They can’t disapprove if they don’t exist in the first place. Look at me.” He gripped my jaw, twisting my face toward the light. “Are you red?”
The way my tongue crept from my mouth to try to taste his fingers—I could not be held responsible.
“Stop that,” he said, wriggling his hand away as I licked it like the animal I was. “Only a little red. You don’t need to smoke yet—I said, stop it, Alek.”
I chuckled as he lightly smacked my cheek, gripping my jaw once more, centering his gaze on mine.
He nodded once, then declared, “You can wait.”
My stomach clenched when he pulled away, ripping the covers back to swing his legs off the bed. “Yes, but I don’t want to wait.”
“We all have to do things we don’t want to do, Alek.” He stretched as he rose from the bed. “It’s not perilous yet. You need to save them.”
I parted my lips to speak, but nothing came as he jogged toward the washroom. Was this what it was like having a human? They just made unilateral decisions for everyone involved?
“You don’t understand,” I groaned when he disappeared from sight, dramatically flopping onto the bed. “It’s torture, human.”
His voice called from the washroom, “Well, what would make it less torturous?”
I had to blink hard when the stream of urine hit the toilet. Lords, I’d seen that cock. It was pretty and proportionate to his lean frame, and I wanted it in my mouth. “Well, it sure as fuck isn’t that.”
“What?” he asked, shaking his cock, and I could hear that, too. Was he not aware of my acute hearing? “My peeing turns you on?”
“Everything you do turns me on,” I said to the ceiling as he washed his hands. “The way you smile at me. The way you glare. The way you stab.”
“You act as if I’ve stabbed you more than once—”
“The way you smell. The shape of your mouth. When you prance around here, wearing my clothes like you’re doing now.”
He emerged from the washroom to squint at me, drying his hands on a towel. “Prance? I don’t prance.”
“Well, what would you call it?”
“Walking. I walk from one point to another. I have never pranced in my life.”
“You call it walking.” I arched an eyebrow. “I call it deliberately teasing me.”
“Deliberately—Alek,” he scoffed, disappearing into the washroom again. “And I have to wear your clothes. Unless you want me to wear the silver thing?”
“Hell no. Hell no, human.” I slapped the bed. “Fuck, I barely survived that outfit. You should burn it. Burn it, and then never speak of it again, especially not the tight little bottoms.”
He gargled water, then spat into the sink.
“Unless, of course, you want to put those on again, just to make sure we still want to burn them.”
He appeared again, slicking water through his hair, and it reminded me of the oil with which they’d styled his hair that day of the outfit in question.
“And if you did want to put them on,” I said, both my arms twitching, “might I suggest prancing while you do so?”
He licked his lips, trying to hide the elusive Snow Fox smirk. “I don’t think it’s necessarily what I’m wearing.”
“Sadly, no.” I cocked my head. “But it doesn’t help. Can you not just wear some damn bed linens over your head? We’ll cut a couple holes for your nostrils. We’ll leave the rest covered.”
“So, you’re saying my nostrils are the only things that don’t arouse you?”
I studied his nose. No, his nostrils definitely didn’t—well.
But they were rather cute, weren’t they? His whole nose was utterly adorable, all impish and slightly pointed upward toward the tip. And the nostrils were just an extension of his adorable nose.
“Bad news,” I said. “We won’t be cutting those holes after all. My apologies in advance. I do hope you can breathe.”
He blurted out a chuckle, just as brief as a chuckle could get, but I savored it nonetheless, absorbed it into my bones. Then the humor vanished from his expression when his gaze fell down my body.
“Prince,” he whispered, eyes huge. “Oh, my gods. Your side. Look.”
It wasn’t that I’d forgotten about my side. It was that I preferred to ignore the angry laceration, but when I peered down at it, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“No,” I said, eyes rounding as I smoothed my fingertips over the newly scarred skin to find the pain gone. “Holy shit.”
He nodded. “Holy shit.”
“Snow Fox,” I said, whipping off the covers, hustling to the mirror to inspect it properly, but what I saw didn’t make sense.
What had once been a horrific, open wound with darkened veins sprawling from the center was now a jagged, pinkened scar. The daring kind you’d see on a warrior or a mercenary.
He’d done this for me. Not because I was a prince, and it was his duty. But because he felt it was the right thing to do, regardless of the risk.
“I can’t believe it,” I whispered, catching his gaze in the mirror. “You healed me, Snow Fox. You fucking healed me when I could not heal myself.”
He offered me a bow of his head, a smile softening his lips. “I’m pleased it worked.”
I spun around to stare at him.
I’d been so engrossed in him that I only just heard the footsteps from the hallway. Three pairs of footsteps. Maybe four. Someone knocked on my door, and Feloré gasped, eyes flitting to it.
“Prince Alekus,” said a deep voice from the other side. “It’s Neopal, Your Grace.”
Shit. Not who I wanted to see, but I grabbed a shirt from the back of my chair and began to slide my arms through.
“What do you think he wants?” Feloré whispered, his gaze searching mine.
“Not sure, but I’ll handle him.” I buttoned my shirt on my way to the door, winking back at him. “You just promise to not say things like ‘fuck your king’—”
“Wait.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me back into him, fingers already working to undo the buttons I’d just fastened. “I think I have an idea.”
Where his fingers brushed my chest nearly burned. I held my palms up. “The kind that involves getting back into the bed? Should you put the silver undergarments on?”
“Shut up,” he said, parting my shirt, draping it open. “That’ll do. Go. Answer the door.”
My eyes narrowed. “What are you up to, human?”
There was something mischievous about his smile, like his intentions were dubious at best. “Follow my lead.”