Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Nox
E ventually, we rise and leave the nest. Fawn and Eiden bathe together—at least he is human again—and the rest of us clean up and gather in the day room. We remain standing, restless, while servants bustle in and out, bringing breakfast, which they set up on the table on the balcony.
Gideon is looking a little shifty. He is grappling with his most recent rise to mate of a future queen. I’m confident he will hold his own. Also, he slipped seamlessly into the mate code, so there is that. He has already selected a room down from Fawn’s nest and next door to the one Jude picked.
“Eiden is going to be possessive,” Seven muses.
“Well, the whelp is going to need to learn to share,” Jude says, pacing. “She is fucking close.”
Close, as in her season is imminent.
I am fucking salivating just thinking about it.
“I will handle him if he gets unruly,” I say.
“Um, have you seen his battle stag?” Gideon asks.
Jude rolls his eyes. “Unruly. I fucking hate that term. Two omegas? How the fuck did this become my life?”
“Are you telling me you wish to change this?” Seven asks, all Master Stag in a barely veiled challenge.
The two of them still need to resolve some issues. As much as I love Seven, he can be an annoying bastard at times, so I’m inclined to side with Jude on this.
“Of course not,” Jude mutters, scowling. “Will you quit throwing challenges in my face? I claimed her first.”
“On the table,” Seven says, smirking now. “Mealtimes will never be the same… You know Eiden is borderline obsessed with you, too?”
Jude swipes a hand down his face, and his tension drains. “I have noticed him eyeballing my junk. And I have witnessed first-hand his skills with you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Eiden and Fawn enter the room and stop as they hear what Jude says. Seven, Jude, and Gideon all have their backs to them and do not notice they have arrived. Instinct tells me not to interfere, to let Jude say his piece.
“If he wants to have at it,” Jude continues. “I’m not going to complain. Fawn was fucking mesmerized when he was sucking you off like it was his calling, so I don’t need to worry about her being jealous. To be clear, I came here for Fawn. Not for Eiden, nor the rest of you, nor this stag city with its weird-as-fuck districts where there are lumbering beasts with one eye.”
“I saw that too,” Gideon interrupts, then promptly shuts his mouth.
“What I’m trying to say, badly,” Jude continues, fixing a glare on Gideon. “Is that Fawn may be the center of my world. But I consider it a boon to find myself sharing her with men I respect, who I can have differences of opinion with and learn from, and who are willing to learn from me in turn. Who make me feel welcome, even though I am different. As for Eiden, it would take a harder man than me not to love him. I did not expect any of this, but now that I am here, I could imagine no other way.”
For a wolf shifter, he has a way with words.
Eiden’s jaw is gaping, and his face is a little flushed under the praise and acceptance. Fawn’s eyes shine with joy. She has her hand clamped over her lips while her other hand clutches Eiden’s.
“Likewise,” Seven says. “I met her as a young stag and when she was a child. I told my late father I would not rest until I had reunited her with her people, right the wrong done by her former herd leader. But then, when I met her again, she was so much more than I anticipated. I did not expect to share her with a wolf.” His eyes sweep from Jude to Gideon, who stands a little straighter. “Nor did I anticipate my sisters would stir the pot. But it feels right. It feels complete.”
Fawn can take no more; she dashes over to Jude and throws her arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face. Then she kisses Seven, Gideon, and finally me. Eiden is a little slower in making his way over. He shares a shy look with Jude and can barely meet his eyes. I foresee their first coupling being spectacular. I throw my arm around him and plant a kiss on his lips. It will always amaze me how such an imposing male can be so sweet and unassuming.
Fawn
It feels as though everything has changed in ways more than the events within Wormwood. I have learned something about Eiden—about all my mates—and about myself.
I also learned that I loved them more than I thought it possible to love anyone, and I learned that they loved me, too.
However, I would be lying to myself if I said there were no scars from what happened beyond my obvious cuts and scrapes.
A strange restlessness is building up inside me, one that demands I run. “I want to go to the Royal Woodland,” I announce.
We are eating a late breakfast at the table on the balcony. The sun is warm, but the many potted plants and creepers that hang down provide some shade. I sit on Seven’s lap, and he feeds me a croissant. I am not allowed to feed myself because, apparently, I must be coddled within an inch of my life after my ordeal.
I can’t say that I mind. I very much like sitting on his lap, how his scent wraps around me, how it makes me all needy and squirmy, even though I have had more attention than I know what to do with.
Seven takes the croissant from me and puts it down slowly.
Silence greets my words.
“What?” I glance around the table and meet the five sets of eyes— Gideon no longer stands attentively at the side but has claimed a seat for himself. I pin each man with a look. “They are gone. They are all gone. And good riddance to them.”
Eiden’s eyes soften as though the mere mention of it pains him. I am sorry to have caused him stress. But also, they do not deserve to spoil our happiness even for one moment.
“I want to run. Is that so bad? All my life I have been told not to run and hide what I am. I don’t want to live in fear of running again. I don’t want to hide my doe. She’s a little skittish, I admit. But I believe we should all feel a lot better if we let our inner sides out.”
Seven’s lips curve into a smile. He presses a kiss to my temple. “There are no gardeners today. They have been sent away. The Royal Woodland is all yours, my Fawn, for however long you need. Extra guards are posted at every entrance. Besides all this, our schedules have been cleared. We shall join you, and you shall be eminently safe. I’m glad that your doe wants to play. It seems as though I’m never around every time she feels playful. I would very much like to meet her, as would my stag.”
His brows shimmer, and as I stare up at him, two giant antlers sprout. They really are the most spectacular antlers, seeming to reach up toward the sky, and have so many points that I cannot easily count them.
Nox chuckles darkly.
I cut him a glare but do not glare at him for long, for I’m distracted by Seven’s antlers once again.
“They are so beautiful,” I say. “Can I pet them?”
“No,” everybody says in unison around the table.
“Why not?” I pout and turn back to Seven. “Does it hurt?”
He runs a fingertip down my cheek and across my jawline. “No, Fawn, it does not hurt. It is merely that if you pet my antlers, I will be thinking about you petting… other things.”
“Oh,” I say, shifting on his lap and suddenly aware of the big bulge in his pants. His eyes darken, his nostrils flare. I wonder if he’s thinking about the time when he spread me out on the table and then rutted me right here over the remnants of my croissant.
He suddenly sets me onto my feet. “Why don’t we go now?” he says brusquely. “I think we have all finished eating.”
Chairs scrape back in unison as every man stands. I am confident they had not finished eating; some of them had barely begun.
“Now?” I squeak. My head barely reaches Seven’s chest. He is one of the largest males I have ever met, but I’m not thinking about his human form as I gaze up at him, for I am thinking about the form I met inside Wormwood—his battle stag.
My doe wags her tail. It manifests as a shiver that runs all the way down my spine and makes my ass wiggle.
Seven’s eyes lower to track the movement.
I swallow nervously—the air clouds with their rich masculine scents.
He steps back, making space for me and a clear path to the steps that lead down to the garden.
“Maybe we should fetch Blue. I’m sure he would like to play,” I say.
“No,” everybody says in unison again.
Goodness, they are all very bossy today!
“He is with Persa,” Wolf says smoothly, although I notice he shares a look with Seven, and a silent communication seems to be happening. “You can see him later. Go ahead and shift.”
He smiles. It has a strange, predatory air, making my tummy take a slow tumble.
Gideon’s throat bobs as he swallows. His eyes have a dark, unnatural gleam to them.
Nox has a tic thumping in his jaw.
Eiden runs his tongue over his lower lip—he looks like he wants to devour me on the spot.
I nibble on my lower lip. There’s something very intense about them today, all of them now that I consider it. Maybe it’s because of what happened. How I nearly died. How it might have ended so much worse.
Only it feels like it might be something more than that…
“Fine, then,” I say. I’m near bursting with excitement and energy. A familiar tingling begins in my core—the air whooshes. I look down, finding my silk dress on the floor before my hooves.
Electricity dances through me all the way to my tail. It wags.
I make a little skip.
I want to run fast.
Run and run and run until my legs have nothing left.
Not waiting to see whether they will follow, I charge for the stairs leading down to the Royal Woodland. My hooves clatter as I skitter down them, bounding, leaping, jumping, taking two or three steps at a time.
The sounds of pursuit follow me, setting excitement rushing anew.
Taking a flying leap from the last step, I race across the open grassy bank, straight for the densest trees. Glancing over my shoulder as I hit the tree line, I see four proud stags and a beautiful wolf following me.
They are noble beasts.
They are magnificent.
Each and every one.
My doe loves them well.
She also wants to test them.
My hooves drum against the forest floor, and I put on a little spurt. Maybe events past should be lingering in my mind. But they do not. I am playful as I dance and skip over the dips and undulations, weaving this way and that, letting them follow where I lead.
I pause to sip some water at the river, my tail wagging the whole time.
I know what it means, what my doe is doing. But I am reckless. When I hear them nearing, I jump over the river, land on the far bank, and take off again.
A low growl comes from behind me. Wolf is not happy with my recklessness. But I don’t care. I race up the little incline toward the copse, and then I race down the other side.
Nox
She is a fucking test. The brat knows what she is doing: pushing us until we snap.
Pushing us into a rut.
We knew this would come soon, even without the crazy turn of events with Eiden’s bastard family turning up. I’m glad they are dead, glad that Eiden was the one to kill them, although I’d have happily brought them back to life so that I could kill them for myself.
But that is done now.
Our little Fawn is wise beyond her years, brave, and fucking saucy. I swear her wagging tail has a direct line to my dick. Here I am, following where she leads, drooling for a taste of her slick little cunt.
Damn, the rest of my life is over. Fawn and Eiden have claimed it all.
I have suffered enough false rallies with Eiden over the years to have an inkling of what this is about.
What is coming.
My hunter’s sights lock on her plump hindquarters and that fucking tail wagging from side to side. Her beautiful golden fur shimmers in the sunlight that dapples through the trees. Whatever form she might take, she is stunning.
She is about to be rutted within an inch of her life given she has five lusty mates, and all of us want her piece of that fine ass.
Eiden is closest. His stag radiates unhinged, and his usually playful prance around her has a distinctly aggressive undertone. But I know him well and can read him like an open book. The moment he shows signs of taking his enthusiasm too far, I will step in.
This is good, though. Let her wear herself out. We are stronger and bigger and will have stamina left when she has none. And that’s when the little doe is going to get fucked. By all of us. She won’t be leaving this woodland until she is good and bred.
A sudden snort from my left alerts me that I have gotten distracted and too close to Fawn for Eiden’s liking.
Eiden issues a deep resonating bellow—a challenge—and charges for me.
Ahead, Fawn comes to a skittering stop at a small gap in the canopy where sunlight finds a clearing.
But Eiden is bearing down on me, and I swing my head, ready to meet him.
Our antlers clatter together— asshole . I dig my hindquarters in and try to find purchase. He’s a big bastard in all his forms. But I’m not exactly weak. We disengage. And clash again, my body quivering with the strain.
I sense what is about to happen even before the air shimmies.
My body reacts instantaneously. I shed my stag form and assume the battle stag.
Two giant sets of antlers come together like a clap of thunder.
He roars at me.
I roar right back.
Fawn
They are rutting. Their muscles quiver with the strain as their antlers lock. They’re both powerful males, and I cannot quickly decide who might have the edge. Maybe neither of them does. These men are lovers, yet today, they battle over me— battle over who will take me first.
I should be alarmed, shouldn’t I? But no, a bloodlust has fallen upon me, and I come alive knowing I am the cause.
A familiar shudder ripples through my body that goes all the way to my tail.
Let them. I turn and find Wolf prowling toward me through the cover of the trees. Seven stands off to the side, distracted by Eiden and Nox. He has similarly assumed his battle stag.
I dart away from Wolf and crash straight into Gideon’s path. He is still a stag. I do not believe he has a battle stag form.
I dash around him and take off.
My body is filled with tension that compels me to run fast.
A lone Wolf growls. Paws and hooves drum against the forest floor—the clack-clack of antlers clashing in the background but fading away.
I run, sure-footed and nimble, aware that I’m scattering the pack.
I can hear hooves closing in, a steady drum behind me.
Seven?
I glance back. No, not Seven, Gideon. I dart left and right through the trees coming out on the shore of the lake, where I come to a skittering stop. Ahead is a marquee.
Where did that come from?
When I check over my shoulder, I find everyone has been left behind.
Everyone but Gideon.
This is perfect! I turn and run back toward him.
His front hooves skitter as he tries to come to a stop. I dance up to him and playfully barge him with my shoulder. Then I turn and present to him.
He snorts and stamps his hooves.
I wag my tail and peek back. What is this stupid male waiting for?
He rears up. I wanted this, yet I’m still shook when his front legs clasp around my body, and his thick cock penetrates me so deeply that my eyes cross.
He issues a deep, melodious bellow—a sound of jubilation—the sound of his stag claiming me.
The thunder of approaching hooves and a low growl bear down upon us as he thrusts, pounding into me, making my pussy quiver and quake.
I bay my encouragement and push back for more.