Chapter 33
The world is silent for a long moment. Even the birds and the wind stand still around us, or so it seems. But a sharp, sorrowful cry breaks through the stillness, and Hattie stumbles over to collapse on the ground beside me, leaning over Tyler and cradling his face in her hands.
At first, I can’t understand why, or what she’s saying in mumbled, breathy words. How could she mourn him, when all signs point toward him turning her against her will and certainly not treating her well after?
But when the words click, I reach out to place my hand on her shoulder when I realize what she’s saying to his corpse.
“How could you do this to me? You told me you loved me, you promised—you said—you swore you would always love me.”
She doesn’t respond to my touch, and I push myself to my feet, startling her.
She looks up at me with a wide, doe-eyed expression and springs to her feet to bolt into the woods beyond the edges of the old logging camp.
“Hattie…” With one hand out toward her, I watch her go, but I can’t bring myself to chase after her.
Not when everything I need is right behind me, bleeding, and probably about to hit the ground again.
When Cairo makes a pained noise in his throat, I’m on him instantly, smoothing my bloody hands over his face, down his neck, and hovering over his injuries.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, stomach clenching around the fear that this really might be fatal, no matter what he said.
“Holy shit, Cairo. You’re fucked up. How did he even do this? I thought?—”
“Fern.” He grips my wrists, his voice calm, but he willingly submits to more of my examination as I touch every bit of unmarred skin I can find, no matter if it’s stained with blood or not.
His jeans remain, and his boots, but nothing can be saved.
We might as well burn it on a pyre made of Tyler’s limbs for good measure.
“I thought you were dead. One of the cursed Tyler sent said that you were dead, and I was terrified. Holy fuck, are you sure you aren’t dying?” Panic makes my vision blur at the edges, and my hands shake as I touch him.
“Fern…” Cairo sighs again, waiting until I’m done talking. “I need to tell you something.” God, he sounds so calm. He shouldn’t sound this calm, and it only fuels my panic.
“Are you dying? Are you just like, dying slowly?” Moro whines, circling both of us, and noses at his leg like she’s worried about the same thing.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I didn’t have a plan, and I didn’t know what I was doing.
Agatha told me to follow your scent, but that took me awhile, and she’s really vague and cryptic and?—”
“ Little bird .” The growl that leaves him has the immediate effect of shutting me up. My fingers clench, making my claws bite into my palms, and I look up at Cairo with wide eyes and my muscles tense, waiting for him to tell me he’s dying or something equally awful.
“What?” My voice comes out as barely a whisper, and Cairo lets out a breath when he has my attention.
“I need you to stop panicking over me for maybe two seconds, all right?” A smile twitches on his lips, and I relax by degrees. Surely if he were dying?—
“Because I’m trying to tell you I love you.”
My brain takes too long to process the words. I just stare at him, mouth open slightly, as the sounds of birdsong and breeze echo in my ears along with the statement that burrows itself into my memories.
“No,” I say flatly, and Cairo looks suddenly taken aback.
“No, absolutely not! I was going to say that! What the fuck , Cairo?” I smack lightly at his chest, being incredibly careful not to touch any of the ugly wounds.
“I did all of this, and killed some loser for you, and you can’t even let me be the one to say ‘I love you’ first? ! Way to steal my moment!”
Cairo’s laugh is sharp and clear. There’s nothing contrived or scripted, and his smile is wide enough that I’d say he’s beaming. “I am so sorry, little bird,” he apologizes, though I have a feeling he isn’t sorry at all. “But maybe you should’ve led with that, instead of panicking over my wounds.”
“You could be dying!”
“I’m not dying.” He grabs my throat and pulls me close, purring in the back of his throat as he crushes his lips to mine hungrily.
It’s nothing like his kisses before. Now I can tell just how much he was holding back, as he uses his teeth and tongue to his advantage. My inexperience with them makes me feel clumsy, and he easily has me against the wall of a cabin, breathless and gasping against his mouth.
“Wait…” I huff, palms pressed to his chest. “You’re really fucked up right now. I don’t want to hurt you—” He growls again, and a wave of submission washes over me, ending my protest. “What was that?” I ask when I can speak again.
Cairo’s grin is almost apologetic, and he sighs. “That was why Tyler wanted to get rid of me. Though he also would have had to kill Elijah and Vivienne before getting what he wanted.”
“That’s unhelpfully vague.”
His grimace is cute, and bloody, and he kisses the tip of my nose when I glower at him in reply. “It’s…dominance, I guess. Like wolves, or dogs, or any animal that lives in a group.”
“Oh.” I have to let that sink in for a minute, and my fingers trace over his chest. “That’s hot,” I admit finally, earning a snort and a shake of his head.
“Are you sure you aren’t dying?” God, I can’t help being worried for him, but I’m surprised into releasing a yelp when he suddenly grabs me, picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
“Allow me to demonstrate how much I’m not dying,” Cairo laughs, walking between the buildings and tossing me down on a mostly clear patch of grass.
I scramble to sit up, but he’s there immediately, pinning me on my back and leaning over me with a growl that I give right back.
This time I’m the one lunging upward to lick up his throat, tasting his skin under the blood and purring at the spicy-sweetness.
“Is this how I taste?” I murmur and then do it again.
“No.” He shoves me back down and rips off the remains of my shirt and bra, leaving me half naked like him.
His eyes darken as he looms over me on his hands and knees, not needing to have a hand on me to keep me in place.
“You taste so much better.” Leaning down, he runs his tongue up my body, from my navel, up between my breasts, and finally to the hollow of my throat.
But when he tries to do it again, my control snaps, and I yank him up for a kiss that’s more snarls and teeth than actual kissing.
Judging by his reaction and the way he ruts against me, however, Cairo doesn’t mind.
I help him shove off the shredded pieces of denim still covering his legs, but he doesn’t bother trying to peel my sweatpants off of me.
He simply rips the fabric at the seams, making my hips jerk with the rough, sudden movements.
“You shouldn’t have turned yourself for me,” he pants, one hand on the ground beside my head as he kisses my throat. It’s hard for me to touch him only where he isn’t wounded, but I manage to grip his hips as I arch into him.
“Agatha helped,” I admit, and that earns a growl from him. “She’s not exactly a benevolent fairy godmother, is she?”
He sighs against my throat, and jerks against me when I grind my hips up against his body.
“No. She’s not. I knew she had ulterior motives for helping you, but…
” He sits up just enough to stare down at me, eyes hungry and nearly feral.
“You’ll have to forgive me, little bird. I can’t be mad at her for this.”
“I’m not mad at her either,” I’m quick to agree, and at his urging I wrap my leg around his uninjured hip. “I just—” He sinks into me suddenly, and the combination of too much and not enough has me throwing my head back and howling.
Cairo purrs encouragingly and dives to bury his fangs in my throat; marking and licking over where Tyler dug his nails in. “I just wish she could’ve been more upfront about it!” I gasp and urge him into motion with a roll of my hips.
He doesn’t need convincing. Cairo slams into me, not bothering to be gentle, but I don’t want him to be. The raw, predatory claim of him inside me and the way he slams into me with every stroke stokes a fire in my chest that didn’t exist until now.
“She isn’t upfront about anything. Fuck , little bird.” He arches off of me, eyes closing as I drag him closer with my leg around him. “You’re so tight. So fucking perfect for me.”
“Well, I hope so. Because I think you’re going to be stuck with me for a while.” Reaching out for him, I wait until he’s lowered himself to me before shifting to roll Cairo over so I’m straddling him in the dirt and gazing down at my lover.
He could flip us back if he really wanted to. I have no doubt he could snarl me back into submission or just pin me with his strength. But he gasps approvingly, keeping his eyes on my face as I place my palms on his abdomen and lift myself up, only to sink back down on his cock.
Both of us let out appreciative hisses, though his has more of a natural, practiced purr to it than mine does. He grips my hips in both hands, his claws pricking me just enough to send a shiver through my body.
“I love you,” I say, tasting the words on my tongue as I feel myself getting closer. The statement also drives me to ride him in earnest, rocking my hips and taking a second to feel him as deep inside me as he can be before lifting myself up again.
“Not as much as I love you, little bird,” Cairo retorts. “You saved my life.”
“Yeah.” I grin down at him. “And you saved mine. I didn’t understand before, but Agatha was right.
” I gasp again, head thrown back, and focus on rocking my hips until Cairo drags me down against him and shoves his hips upward so he’s meeting every movement.
Our teeth continue nipping and biting at each other in a fake battle for dominance.
“What was she right about?” he whispers, getting just as breathy and uncontrolled as I am.
“That I was starving,” I snarl against his lips, kissing him just as hungrily as he kisses me. “I was starving before you, Cairo. I just didn’t really know it.”
When he comes, it’s with a soft gasp and a moan I’ve never heard from him before.
I push him down again, watching his face as I grind my hips so his cock slides against that spot inside of me.
His hand gropes for the apex of my thighs as he spills inside of me, and it only takes a few quick swipes of his thumb before I’m coming as well, my thighs tight around his hips and my body clenched tight around him, greedy and demanding for him to stay right here with me.
My arms tremble, and my elbows buckle, though I try not to collapse on top of him.
I manage to roll onto the grass beside him as a purr builds in my throat, and I can’t keep my hands off of him.
Though I glance down at myself with a small frown at how much of his and Tyler’s blood is now smeared over my skin.
“I’m gross,” I state, twining my fingers with his as I watch the rise and fall of his chest. He doesn’t reply, and my eyes never leave him, just to be sure.
Cairo snorts and opens one eye to look at me, then closes it again. “I won’t stop breathing just because you fucked me so well, Fern,” he promises with a chuckle. “I’m just tired.”
“And almost dying,” I point out, not letting go of his hand. Moro’s paw steps make me look up, and I see her licking at the cooling blood around Tyler’s body.
I really should worry more about her becoming a blood-thirsty cryptid-companion of legend…but not today. That’s tomorrow’s concern.
“How did he do it, anyway?”
“He wasn’t alone.” Cairo sighs, sounding particularly disappointed about it.
“I don’t know why I thought he would be.
It’s our way; we’re supposed to fight alone when we’re fighting for dominance.
When he brought me here, I didn’t realize he wasn’t alone until Teague and Fletcher jumped me.
I thought…” Cairo trails off. “I still didn’t want to kill him,” he admits.
“And that was wrong of me. Good thing I have my feral little bird to protect me from my own moments of weakness, hmm?” he teases, opening his eyes and gingerly turning onto his side.
“And don’t you forget it. You’re my…” I trail off, thinking.
“Okay, well, obviously I need a nickname for you. I’ll have to think about it.
” Sitting up, I wince at the growing pain and stiffness from my fight with Tyler, and glare down at all of our ruined clothes.
We can’t go back into town like this, since I have no desire to be locked up in the nearest asylum for a perceived mental break.
Cairo sits up as well and gets to his feet before dragging me up. He’s much more comfortable in his nudity than I am, though belatedly I consider he’s probably used to it after being up here for so long. Especially since he can’t feel the cold in an uncomfortable way.
And now, neither can I. Huh… I’m now realizing the air just feels comfortable, like the ground.
I run my hands over the already healing wounds on my arms, listening to Cairo lecture Moro about her meal choices, and trying to get her to drop Tyler’s aorta, before looking up at both of them as the breeze brings their scent to my nose.
Never before—in my mother’s house or my own—have I ever felt like this.
Like I’m home.