33. Michael
33
Michael
“What’s your favorite food?” Stella reclines more in the chair across from my desk, balancing precariously on the two back feet. Her black leggings trace the curves of her muscular thighs, distracting me from the massive tome on the desk before me.
Missurd agricultural exports are nowhere near as interesting as the Valkyrie in front of me.
“Jellybeans.”
The front legs of her chair come crashing down. She leans her elbows onto her knees and narrows her eyes at me. “I’m sorry, please repeat that because I’m pretty sure I just heard you say jellybeans are your favorite food.”
Closing the book, I open one of my drawers. It catches her attention enough that she hops out of the chair and round the desk. I set a glass jar in front of her. “I am not joking.”
The multitude of jellybeans rustle in the jar as she picks it up and turns it around. “Professor, are you a serial killer?”
“What in the realm would possess you to ask that question?”
She wrinkles her nose as she opens the jar and takes a sniff. “Your favorite food is black jelly beans?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“They’re disgusting, that’s why! How did you even get them in here? I’ve never seen these at the cafeteria.” She reaches into the jar and pulls one out, tentatively taking a bite. The gag that follows is an over-exaggerated mess and has my gut hurting from laughing at her dramatics.
“Yeah, I have no idea how you stand these.” Before I can blink, she shoves the rest of the uneaten jellybean through my lips, her fingers lingering enough to taunt me.
Does she know what she’s doing?
She must, right?
During the time I’ve been spending with Stella getting ready for the dignitary visit, I’ve come to know the female as the clever, funny, and kind individual she is. She worries endlessly about the Reaper, Clay, who she says bears the burden of the realm, and she frets about Ryan, the Cyclops, and how he’s handling switching from being a scholarship student to following her into espionage.
I teach both males, but haven’t had the chance to meet them as what I am sure they are.
A part of her Raven.
I read that book cover to cover before I gave it to her, and there is no doubt in my mind that is what’s happening. She is as drawn to them they are to her.
I wonder when she’ll realize it.
Selfishly, my thoughts have wandered into inappropriate territory several times. What would I do if I was marked to be a part of her Raven? Would I accept?
After spending this time with her, it would take considerable willpower to turn her down.
Especially when she’s looking at me with unchecked lust in her eyes.
She’s close. So, impossibly close, and I can feel her breath ghost across my face. With me sitting, we’re nearly eye-to-eye, and she’s unblinking in her attention on me.
Stella takes a step forward, pushing further between my knees.
She places a hand on my shoulder, eyes flitting from my lips and back up to lock gazes with me, and I feel the breath catch in my throat as my stag surges forward.
There is no telling why the reformation to simplynatural didn’t work for me. I went through everything my classmates did, save for the exit interview, yet I am still myself.
As soon as my stag awakens, I feel him pushing against my consciousness, fighting to take control. He has been quiet since I came here, but right now, he wants nothing more than to burst through my carefully constructed control and join with Stella.
“Your eyes,” she whispers, dragging a hand down my cheek. “They’re different.”
“Are they?”
She nods and cups my chin, tilting my face from side to side. “They look bigger. And your pupils are horizontal slits.”
I swear silently and push back from her slightly. “My stag. He’s… well, he’s eager to meet you, it would appear.”
“Oh? Well, let me meet him, then. I’d love to see him.”
I lose control of my shift, and my body cracks and morphs into my massive red stag form. Immediately, I bend my knees and lay down to preserve the ceiling and my antlers. This office is not big enough for me to be in this form. My legs curl under me the best they can, and nose to tail, I am wedged in this office, but fuck.
I haven’t shifted in two years.
My stag is giddy, huffing and nuzzling Stella as she coos and strokes our nose.
There is a rightness to this moment I cannot deny. Now that he’s fully awake, I can recognize how much I had been missing in his silence since I came here. He is a part of me, and I resigned to letting him be pushed aside.
I promise him that I won’t let that happen again. We can’t talk to each other in the ordinary sense, but we can share feelings and emotions. He’s an extent of myself, and I of him. We’re not separate entities but two sides to a coin.
He seems happy with my declaration, trusting that I will not hide him away again, and goes back to nudging Stella with our nose.
This room is way too small for us, and I am massively uncomfortable, but the light in her eyes as she runs her hands up our antlers is worth every discomfort.
My stag agrees, and if he could purr, I think he would be, a feeling of overwhelming contentment wrapping around me.
He likes her. Feels safe with her.
She is part of my herd now. There is no denying it. He won’t let her go, and I don’t think I can either.
Eventually, I become too uncomfortable to stay in this form, and I force a shift back. My stag is hesitant, but I remind him of my promise and assure him I will shift again soon to let him run. After I return to flesh, I stretch out my arms and crack my neck to rid myself of the aches that are lingering from being so cramped.
Stella’s eyes are wide, her neck flushed red, and her wings twitch and flare as she gapes at me.
Me, and my entirely naked body.
“Fuck,” I mutter, looking around the room for something to wear. I have no doubt I am making her uncomfortable.
I didn’t quite have control over that shift, or I would have stripped down, and it slipped my mind that I’d come back naked as the day I was born.
Stella doesn’t look away from me, her eyes repeatedly traveling up and down my body. She lingers at my waist, and my cock stiffens under her attention. I hold my breath for her reaction as I feel my cock escape my sheath.
And she doesn’t look away.
Authentic males don’t have sheaths, of course. That’s a trait unique to cervidae shifters.
No one is quite sure why, but shifters maintain some of their other half’s traits in their more ‘Authentic appearing’ form. Wolf shifters retain a knot, feline shifters have barbs, and cervidae have sheaths.
Obviously, I’m used to it, but I can tell it’s the first time Stella has seen such a thing.
The sheath keeps my flaccid penis tucked close up to my pelvis, but under Stella’s unwavering attention, the sheath retracted, and my cock grew, heavy and pressing against my thigh.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she takes a step towards me.
“Michael…” Her voice is a pained whisper. “Tell me to leave.”
My brain stutters. “What?”
“Tell me to leave, Michael. Because if I stay, I think we’re going to end up breaking a metric fuck ton of rules tonight.” There is a predatory gleam in her eyes, a hunger that belies the warrior within.
I am the prey, and she?
The predator I will expose my neck for.
The warrior I will pledge my allegiance to.
“I never pegged you for a rule follower, Miss Mikers.”
Her eyes rake down my body one more time before she rests a hand on my chest. The heat of it is a balm on my lonely soul. A claim. A brand.
“I suppose you’re right. Why start now?”
Who lunges towards who will remain a mystery, but suddenly our bodies are colliding, our lips searching painfully for answers neither of us can speak.
This is reckless.
But there is not a part of me that cares because her hands are dragging down my waist, and her wings are brushing my arms, and I feel as if I am going to combust with desire.
As our lips move together, my tongue traces the seam of her mouth, and she gasps open for me. Our tongues tangle, and somehow, it feels like flowers blooming, wrapping their stems and vines around our bodies as we move together.
Even when we pull away, panting, the tether remains between us, pulling us back together.
She tastes like my salvation.
The warmth of her kiss is a soothing balm on my frayed nerves. Until she was in my arms I did not realize how tightly wound I have become since attending the Academy.
Sure, I came here for the right reasons, but it was high time to admit that I am in too deep with too few results.
And then I found her.
Stella bites my bottom lip playfully, and I groan into her mouth, wrapping my hands around her hips and yanking her tighter against my body. Her wings stroke my back softly as she throws her arms around my neck. I soak up every press of her flesh, every gasp and moan that passes from her mouth to mine.
But I want more.
I am at a marked disadvantage, being as she is fully clothed, so I remedy that. I slide my hands into the waistband of her pants, and she allows me to drag them down her body. I drop to my knees to slip her feet from her sneakers and pull the leggings off.
Stella Mikers stands above me, wings splayed wide, chest heaving, and lips bee-stung from our combined efforts. This close, I can smell the sweet scent of her desire, where it grows between her thighs, and my mouth begins to water.
I gently push her back several steps until she falls into my chair. A question is poised on her tongue, but I hold my finger to my lips and shush her.
“Quiet now. We can’t get caught. Our very lives may depend on it.”
It’s dramatic, yes, but factual. She rolls her eyes at my words but nods her acceptance, leaning forward to feed her hands through my hair.
“I can keep a secret, Professor.”
That should not turn me on as much as it does.
My fingers dance across her soft flesh, tickling up her inner thighs. Her skin tightens under my touch, and little pants escape her mouth as she squirms under my ministrations.
Kissing the inside of each knee, I gently lift her legs and rest them over my shoulders. Her ass scoots closer to the edge of the chair, and she lets out a surprised squeak.
She smells mouthwatering, and my stag is losing his fucking mind within me, begging me to bite, to rut, to claim.
Cervidae are not like wolves in that we bond with our mates through a bite, but try telling that to the feral animal inside me.
He wants to consume her.
I’ve denied him so much the past few years, I think it’s time to indulge.
I drag my tongue up her slit, exhaling in satisfaction as I feel the wetness that gathers there. I flatten my tongue as I lap at her clit, savoring the sounds she muffles behind her hand.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Her eyes are closed and her head thrown back, chest heaving and shuddering with every pass of my tongue. I watch how she reacts, adjusting my pace and technique based on her reactions. When I seem to have found a combination of pressure and speed that has her calves tightening as she points her toes, and her ass nearly lifting off the chair, I slide two fingers inside of her and stroke the upper wall.
Her hips twist, nearly knocking me from between her thighs, but I wrap my free hand around her hips and press down, rooting her in place.
“Michael.” She whispers my name like she’s afraid to break my concentration. “I’m close. I’m so close.”
It may have been a long time since I brought a female to my bed, but I know that means to keep doing exactly what I’m doing, or she could lose it.
And while one day I will edge her into oblivion, that is not today.
I suck hard on her clit, and she grips my fingers tightly, pulsing with a release that wracks her whole body. When she slumps into the chair, I pull my fingers out slowly, kissing down her thighs and to her knees as I sit up straighter.
Gently, I remove her legs from my shoulder and grab her hips, adjusting her to sit in the chair more comfortably. Sitting back on my heels, my cock painfully hard and dripping from the tip, I admire the incredible female in front of me.
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, Michael.”
She’s quick to try to deny anything between us, isn’t she?
I suppose that may be my fault. I’m sure I stressed her out with the mention of a Raven. But she needed to know, needed to be aware of the type of bonds she’ll be forming while she’s here.
“What if I want it to?”
A vulnerability I don’t want to show creeps into my voice. Now that he’s met her, my stag won’t let her go, and I was already fighting myself to stay away.
She slides out of the chair, joining me on the ground and grabbing my face. “I am a Valkyrie with no Valhalla to return to. A warrior without a Raven. All I can do is strive to make a change. I have nothing to offer you.”
I inhale her unique scent and rub my cheek into her palm. “Tell me, have you read the book?”
Stella sits up straight, pulling back to look me in the eye. “What? I mean, yeah, parts of it.” I can tell she’s confused, and a smile creeps across my features.
“Do you remember what the presiding theory of a Raven is said to be?”
“Multiple lovers, right?”
A chuckle bubbles up in my chest. “Not that part, I think it’s clear you understand that piece of it. The Raven is said to be many things. A bringer of ill omen. A trickster. A bearer of knowledge. A carer of lost souls.”
Her brow crinkles a little. “Right, I read that.”
“And a shapeshifter.”
“And a shapeshifter,” she repeats.
“I haven’t shifted since I came here, Stella. It feels like ages since I’ve heard my stag. And yet, you ask to see him, and he surges forward.” I run my nose up the side of her neck, kissing and biting the flesh softly. “One taste of you, and he’s demanding I claim you as my own. That I vow myself to you, claim my spot in your Raven.”
Her arms wrap around me, fingers tracing the contours of my spine. “You don’t mean that.”
I pull away from the stubborn female and grab her face in both hands. I feel my stag push to the surface, and I’m sure my eyes have shifted. He’s right beside me, laying bare his commitment to Stella as much as I am. “Let me be perfectly clear here, Stella Mikers. If you’ll have me in your Raven, I am there. There is a reason we are both here, with the same goal. Do not pretend you can ignore this draw we seem to have to one another. I am by your side. I will protect you, serve you, and guide you until the end of days. I will be your shapeshifter.”
A searing pain lights up over my heart, hot and bright like a heated rod. Stella arches back, hands trying desperately to reach her spine.
“What the fuck?” she pants, bent over. “What was that?”
I have no answer for her, rubbing the sore spot on my chest. When I look down, I’m shocked to see a complex geometric figure resting there, in a deep green like a tattoo. A six-pointed star is surrounded by a mix of solid and dotted circles, with sharp points around the outside and another star in the middle.
It’s complex, beautiful, and entirely foreign to me.
Not to Stella, though, if the way she is gaping at me is any indication.
“My… my tattoo,” she whispers, running her fingers down my chest. “I have that on my back.”
She turns around, peeling her top off, and reveals a series of five geometric figures on her back. In the middle is one that matches mine, in the same shade of green.
“When did you get these?” My finger traces the points, the strange symbol in the center, while my eyes wander to the other symbols.
“I was eighteen. I’ve doodled these when bored or daydreaming for as long as I can remember. I wanted them inked on me forever, so as soon as I could, I did.”
“Why did you get the one in the middle green?”
“I didn’t. They’re all black.”
I inhale sharply. “Not anymore, Stella.”
She spins around, eyes wide. “What does this mean?”
“I think it means I’m part of your Raven, Stella.”
The Valkyrie’s breaths increase in speed, and she runs her hand down her face. “There’s five of them.”
“What?”
“There’s five symbols, and there’s only four of you.” My confusion must show on my face because she elaborates. “You, Clay, Ryan, and the leprechaun. I’ve felt drawn to you all since I got here.” She buries her face in her hands and groans. “Who’s the fucking fifth, Michael?”