Chapter 15 Sky
Sky
“So then what did Theo say?” I asked King as we curled up on my bed, both of us in our sweatpants and t-shirts.
As soon as we arrived back at my house, I’d removed my makeup, taken out my contacts, and slid my glasses on.
Along with all the other revelations I’d had about myself the last few days, I wanted to work on being comfortable in my own skin in front of King.
If I wanted the real him, I needed to give him my authentic self.
He reached over and ran a finger over my freckles, right underneath the rim of my frames.
The look on his face could be described as nothing less than fond.
It made me happy I’d stepped out of my comfort zone, but it paled in comparison to all of the cool things he’d had happen in the last two days.
“Nothing. I talked and he listened. It was kinda cool.” He grinned. “He was really into every word.”
I shook my head. As fun as his time with Theo sounded, we needed to talk more about what had happened at his job. “King, this is…so you’re not only a Dreamwalker but a Lorewarden. Can you be both? Aren’t they like, a conflict of interest?”
He pulled me closer, drawing my leg up over his thighs.
“Malcolm said no. We went through several of the grimoires, and it’s the strangest thing.
Like in most of them, I can see the writing, but it doesn’t make sense.
Then here and there I’ll catch snatches of phrases.
Malcolm showed me how he or someone before him had recorded the information in one of the books it belonged in. ”
My mind spun. “So the details you pull out are like, universal truths as opposed to specific to that family?”
“Exactly.”
“Wild.”
As much as I’d wanted to come straight home earlier, I’d been glad when Elyse called for family dinner as soon as Theo and Craig left. I hadn’t had a chance to visit with the two teenagers, but they’d seemed to have a good time with Jetty and King, even though they’d been split up.
But family dinner had been necessary. Elyse had spoken to the others—Scotty, Stevie, Buck, and Harry—about all the things Rosie had revealed in our conversations in the last two days.
Jetty had nodded along since Chance had filled him in already, but I hadn’t had an opportunity to update King yet, so it had all been new information for him.
“So you think what you saw on Theo’s wrist is what?” I asked.
I felt him shrug against me. “I’m guessing his family crest, but Crowley isn’t his last name, so I’m not sure.” He sighed. “And there’s something else. The Vault is only supposed to contain the grimoires of family lines that have died out.”
Humming, I tilted my head up toward him. “Didn’t you also say that Malcolm said they’d appear in there if the family line had gone dark or something, too?”
He chewed at his bottom lip, thinking. “Yeah, but Theo isn’t dark in any way. He’s like, the picture of happy. He reminds me of a puppy.”
Speaking of puppies—I’d have to come back to my thoughts on my psychopomp later. I wanted to delve into this Lorewarden thing further first. “So how are you feeling about all of this? Can you handle it? Is it too much with all the other stuff we have going on?”
“Other stuff? Like that thing we heard but couldn’t see the other night?” His voice sounded pensive, uncertain. Much the same way I’d been feeling.
“Or the fact we didn’t dreamwalk last night. Although, that could be because Ego and I were up most of the night.”
King hummed. “That might have something to do with it. Honestly, I’d rather not return to that poor tortured guy if we can’t figure out how to help him. I felt awful leaving him like that.”
Goddess knew, I did too. It was bad enough that he was displaced, but to be terrorized on top of that felt unthinkable. “What do we do? I mean, if we see him tonight?”
With a sigh, King pulled me in tighter, like he needed to hold me, needed my strength. That was fine since I needed his, too. “I’ve been thinking about it. Remember when we vanquished that apparition torturing the baby?”
“Yeah.”
“So we know she could, at the very least, sense what was happening because she was so brand new, straight from the spirit realm and open.”
“Oh yeah. Gran and I discussed that at length. She said oftentimes, babies, old timers, or those on death’s door are the same. Is that what you’re thinking?”
Gasping, I clutched at his t-shirt. “Oh my gosh, do you think he’s ill?”
Rubbing soothing circles on my back, he said, “I’m not sure.
But he knew that voice was mocking and belittling him.
He heard it as clearly as we did. It wasn’t like Ego or the others who continued to move through their dream like normal, with minor unseen irritations that were affecting their sleep. ”
Shit. He was right. “So what should we do?”
“I think we should talk to him, too. Ask him if he knows who or what’s attacking him? Maybe help him wake up.”
“Can we do that?”
“We can’t, but Patchy might be able to. When we ask him to send us home, we come right out of the Dream-veil. Maybe we can ask him to send the stranger out of it first, then ourselves.”
I’d been feeling so helpless about this situation, but his idea made sense. It might even work. Moving up, I fused my mouth to King’s. “You’re brilliant,” I mumbled against his lips.
“It might not work.”
“But it might. You’re giving us an action step. A plan. Have I ever told you that I find your big brain extremely attractive?”
Before he answered, I smashed our lips together, plunging my tongue into his mouth and tasting him, picking up the minty flavor of toothpaste but also the unique underlying flavor of him.
It had evolved since our first kiss, which had held the sharp bitterness of fear and the tartness of hesitation on top of the flavors he carried now.
Like iron and honey, both strong and healing.
That I could taste his transformation on his tongue was… intoxicating.
Every hook-up I’d ever had paled in comparison to being with this man.
King was everything I never knew I needed, and I was so grateful for him.
For this. For whatever it was we were becoming.
Stretching out fully on top of him, I kissed a path down the side of his neck, over his clavicle to his nipple where I flicked my tongue over the little bud until it hardened.
“Sweetheart,” King whispered.
Looking up at him, I held his gaze as I took my time, slowly moving to his other pale pink nipple and lavishing it with the same focused attention.
He grew heavy-lidded, carefully removing my glasses and laying them on the bedside table before tangling his big hands into my hair and cradling my head gently.
I really loved how tender and caring he was with me, and I wanted to be that safe space for him, too. He had so many revelations coming at him so quickly, and as awe-inspiring and incredible as they were, they all meant one thing…more responsibility.
It didn’t take knowing he’d been chosen by some deity for me to be confident that he’d be able to handle it.
No matter what it took, he’d put in the work, practice, or study—whatever it took to fulfill his destiny—but he needed stress relief, the kind of bone-deep relaxation that came from a good orgasm.
Now that his days and nights would be more full of this other world that was more a part of ours than I could’ve ever imagined, he needed to shut off and empty his mind.
Selfishly, I needed it too.
I needed to turn off the feelings of guilt that had flooded me the last couple of days as I realized how inattentive I’d been toward my magic and relationships beyond King.
I needed to stop spending every second plotting and planning how I would make up all of my transgressions—real or perceived—no matter how big or small.
I needed the sound of that oppressive voice from the other night to stop ringing in my ears and dominating every other thought.
What I needed more than anything was to give King pleasure and find solace in being his sole focus.
Moving down his body slowly, I mapped every dip and crevice, never breaking eye contact with this extraordinary man.
As he twitched and panted under my ministrations, he gave me exactly what I needed—total fixation. “Sky.”
Soft. Quiet. Leisurely. Focused.
I continued my ministrations as I tugged and pulled, divesting both of us of our sleep clothes.
“Sweetheart,” he moaned as I finally sprawled out, letting my erection poke against the bristling hair on his right leg as I gripped his cock.
A shiver worked down my spine at the proof of his desire.
Hard and throbbing, precum leaked from the tip, making my mouth water as my hunger for this man obliterated any other wayward thoughts or fears.
As I lowered my head toward his dick, I grinned up at him cheekily.
The smile he gave me back was adoring, dare I say loving, so I showed my appreciation—my thankfulness—by swallowing him down.
His back arched reflexively as I held him in the moist cavern of my mouth, licking and stroking the thick ridge of his vein and humming my appreciation.
King exhaled sharply. The fingers in my hair tightened, pulled sharply with each buck of his hips as I bobbed on his cock, rolling his balls between my fingers, making him feel good and relishing in every gasp and moan.
The louder he got, the more I rutted against his leg, using the friction of his hair to chase my own release while I brought him ever closer to his.
“Sky. I’m going to come,” he choked out, breaking eye contact and squeezing his eyelids closed for the first time. Redoubling my efforts, I gave him all I had until the salty tang of his release hit my tongue, gagging me as I stubbornly took every bit, swallowing it down as my reward. “Damn.”
Scrambling to my knees between his legs, I stroked my cock over where his lay limply against his stomach. Looking barely conscious, King peered at me, licking at his bottom lip like I had a reward he wanted, too. Who was I to deny him?
Moving swiftly up the bed, I jerked frantically over his face, feeling my whole body wrack with the upcoming orgasm when he opened his mouth in invitation.
I groaned, fisting myself tighter. “Come on, sweetheart. Let me taste you,” he mumbled, opening wider like he couldn’t bear for me to miss my shot.
That was all it took. Cum shot out of me in spurts, and like a game of catch the popcorn, he adjusted, making sure he caught every drop on his tongue or lips. It was so fuckin’ hot I wanted to do it again. Now.
King’s hands landed on my shoulders, and he pulled me down and into him, locking our lips back together, licking the remnants of our combined cum off of my tongue. It was exactly what I’d been needing. It was everything.
When we finally broke the kiss, King tilted his head, staring at me with curiosity. “What was that for?”
“You deserved it.” When a frown started to crease his face, I held up my hand. “I mean, we deserved it.”
He huffed out a small chuckle, running a finger down my arm. “Yeah, I guess we did.”
After that, I lay in his arms in quiet contentment until my bladder forced me to the bathroom to pee.
After washing my hands, I brushed my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror while contemplating the last few days.
There were changes I’d have to make, but most of them couldn’t be sorted right this minute… except one.
“I have an idea.” I bounced back on to the bed, sitting crisscrossed near King’s stomach, and he smiled lazily, relaxed. Go me!
“What’s that?”
Inhaling, I closed my eyes, then blew out a breath. “Patchy,” I said tentatively.
Nothing.
King rolled to his side, propping his head on one hand and grabbing my knee with the other and squeezing. “You miss him, don’t you?”
Sighing heavily, my shoulders fell. “Duchess is with your gran all the time. I don’t know why Patchy doesn’t stay with me. I thought maybe…”
King snorted and tapped my knee. “Maybe you should try asking him to come. What you just did could’ve simply been saying his name for all he knew. He might not have taken it as a command.” He gazed around the room. “Wherever he’s listening for you from,” he muttered.
Frowning, I plucked the sheet between my legs. “I don’t want to make him do anything, though. Maybe he likes wherever”—I found myself staring up into the air over the bed—“he exists when not with me. Us,” I corrected.
King smiled. “He’s definitely your baby. Don’t worry, I’m okay with that. So…” He rolled onto his back, arms behind his head, and closed his eyes. That orgasm had worn him out, and he was ready for sleep. I’d worry about Patchy tomorrow.
Stretching out next to King, I threw an arm and leg over him, snuggling in close.
“So,” he continued. Had he fallen asleep mid-sentence? I bit back a giggle. Big lug must be exhausted. “Why don’t you”—he yawned—“invite him instead of commanding him?”
Ha. That might work. It still didn’t mean he’d come necessarily, but it could be worth a try. “No, I don’t know. I don’t wanna bug him.”
King yawned again. “Sweetheart, your pup adores you as much as you love him. You should try.” I bit my lip, hesitating, and King’s hand came down, petting at my head absently. “Go ahead and try so you can go to sleep. We might need to work tonight, and we both need rest.”
He was right. Sitting up again, I squared my shoulders and placed my hands on my thighs, palms up. “Patchy, I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but you’re welcome here. If you want. You don’t have to, but I’d lo—”
Then my lap was full of a yipping, tail-wagging psychopomp puppy who was attacking my chin with slobbery tongue licks. “Patchy.”
I heard King chuckle, but I was too busy petting my Dream-veil dog who was now here, in my room, in my house, of my real life, in what I considered the normal plane.
Patchy’s head reared back at the sound of laughter, and he turned toward King.
Then off he shot, from me right on to King’s chest, where he proceeded to give his face a tongue bath.
King’s arms flailed as he tried to scoot up with the quivering canine mass of energy on top of him.
Laughing, I scratched between Patchy’s ears, drawing his attention.
He hopped back and forth between the two of us like a bunny, and happiness permeated every cell of my body.
This was what it was all about. And it was just the beginning. I’d make everything right.