48. Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Eight
Augustus
Early morning birds chirp their morning tune to welcome the sun again, and I want nothing more than for them to shut up. My head pounds with every noise that grates against my ears. Hangover from Hel himself. I stretch trying to push the alcohol aftereffects to the back of my mind. My fae metabolism will burn off this hangover in a few hours. Small snores fill the air where Astrid still sleeps, laying curled on her side away from me. Her long black hair cascades from her head covering her back as it pools around her. With a small shift of her weight, it falls away exposing her to me. Scars that are deep divots that stretch and thin on the ends cover her shoulder blades and down her back. She’s been battered, her skin ripped open and healed poorly. Whoever touched her is going to wish they were dead. Anger pools in my chest, hot and eager. Urging me to find whoever touched what is mine and end their life.
“Augustus?” Astrid’s voice is small before she’s stretching to a seated position. “What’s wrong?”
“Who the fuck hurt you?” I say, my voice low and even as I point to her back, and she pales.
“I had to be punished,” she whispers, shrinking away from my thinly veiled rage.
“Punished for what?” I growl trying to control myself.
“When Embla was six, I was watching her when she ran off into the woods. I lost her while she was my responsibility.” Astrid’s hand hovers over the scar that nearly blinded her left eye. “It was my fault, and we both got hurt because of it.”
“Who?” I growl, I will get a name, and once I do that will be their end.
“Papa did, he had more mercy than the Shadows would have.” Tears glisten in Astrid’s eyes and my anger dissipates as I pull her to me. How could someone enforce all the Demendian laws with such steadfastness? I know what their holy book says, but I don’t understand how they could allow their religion and laws to cause such pain. Ash curls into my chest, and I’m glad she’s here with me.
“You’re safe now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you ever again,” I whisper. “You’re safe with me,” I promise, holding her against my chest, breathing the words into her hair.
“Papa wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the Shadows,” she whispers, her voice low and raspy. I hate seeing her like this, the sorrow and pain of memory consuming her, like a darkness taking root. I wish I could take the pain, but all I can do is lend my support. She leans back to meet my eyes, curiosity in her gaze.
“Why do you care so much?” The question burns in her gaze, and I don’t even know why I care so much.
“I don’t know, but I’ve not only cared since that first time we met. I’ve felt this pull to you.” I run a hand along the back of her neck and she leans into me. “I can’t explain why I feel this need to be near you all the time, and that’s why I thought you were a witch,” I admit and Astrid nods.
“I know the feeling you’re talking about, I thought that was something the fae did,” Astrid says. She holds her hand up and I can’t help bringing mine up to meet hers, comparing her slightly smaller palm against mine. Her skin soft, her touch gentle, her fingers folding into the spaces in between mine.
“I don’t understand it, but I’m not willing to give it up. Maybe this is just one of those things that can’t be explained.” I bring my other hand to her cheek making her look at me as I gently run my thumb over her jaw line. My eyes go to her lips, and then I’m pressing mine to hers gently. The way lovers do. She folds herself into me, deepening the kiss as she opens for me. Her tongue sweeping against mine, as her hands got to my hair, then begin to stroke my antlers. I moan against her mouth, lowering her back onto the bed.
“How’re you feeling today?” My voice is husky, as I take in her naked body, licking my lips as lust and heady need fills me.
“Sore, but like a good sore,” she says, her legs wrapping around my waist, and I nod. As much as I want her, I don’t want to hurt her. We’ll take things slow. I kiss her again, sweeping my tongue over hers and eliciting the softest moan. It spurs me on as I trail kisses down her neck to her breasts where I stop to suck on her nipples until she is squirming under my touch. I want to taste every inch of her. I cup her breast as my mouth moves lower. I throw her legs over my shoulder and run my tongue over her dripping seam. Her hands are in my hair, gently grasping at my antlers as I twirl my tongue around her clit.
“Come for me, Trouble. Let me feel the way your pussy clenches around my tongue,” I growl, carefully pressing a finger into her heat as I continue to suck her clit. Her pussy tightens against me as her orgasm has her arching her back. I suck harder letting it wash over her, stroking her clit until she stops shaking, glowing in the aftermath of pleasure.
“You want to shower with me?” I ask, thinking of the many positions I could taste her in my large shower with the multiple benches it has to offer. Astrid smiles and nods, jumping from the bed.
We spend the rest of the morning sequestered in my quarters splitting the time between talking and touching. I haven’t felt this way about someone else before. The sort of connection that makes one wonder if our threads in fate’s tapestry have been interwoven for longer than this lifetime. If I ever meet them, I’ll ask.