Chapter 9 #3
Morgan felt the surrender of sliding out of the driver’s seat of his own body and letting someone else grip the controls. Until yesterday, his body had always been his own. Now it was a crowded cockpit.
One cranky demon with a superiority complex had taken the pilot’s chair, his molten eyes fixed on Morgan’s mate as though she were already his.
Between them, the wolf snarled and paced, restless, angry and confused at having to share-more protective than Morgan had expected.
And then, when Ashmedai spread those monstrous wings and threw them into the night sky, his wolf’s response had been instant and comical.
Terror.
Heights, Morgan realized with grim amusement as the beast whimpered in the back of his skull. Great. My wolf could chew through a steel door, but get him more than a few feet off the ground and he’s a mess.
Meanwhile, Ashmedai was having the time of his life, a king reborn, wind ripping around them as if the world had been made for him to conquer.
Morgan ground his teeth inside that shared cockpit. So this is my life now. Playing chauffeur to a demon king, babysitter to a wolf with vertigo, and praying the girl I love doesn’t decide she’s better off with the monster in my chest.
“To your room, mutt?” Ashmedai’s voice boomed inside Morgan’s skull, amused.
“No,” Morgan shot back. His awareness pulsed, steady inside the demon’s body. “The caves. I have a place.”
Ashmedai’s head tilted, grinning. “Then lead the way.”
They flew hard and fast. The campus fell away behind them, swallowed by forest. One of Síofra’s shoes tumbled from her limp foot, dropping down into the treetops below. The mountains rose on the horizon, jagged black against the silver moon.
Morgan guided him-north, past the broken ridge, across the frozen riverbed-until the cliffs came into view.
A hollow mouth yawned high above the treeline, carved into stone by time.
Morgan had found a cave system a couple of years ago while hitchhiking through the ranges.
In his free time, he liked mapping it. It was like a termite colony, the passages leading and crisscrossing deep underground where the air felt saturated and water dripped into crystal clear pools .
It had become his sanctuary and retreat, a place no one else knew. No one but Merrik.
Ashmedai landed with a jarring crunch, talons scraping the rock. They were at least a hundred feet above the ground, hidden within the folds of the forest. It would take days, maybe months before anyone found them.
Síofra stirred restlessly in his arms, a shiver running through her body.
Ashmedai bent his horned head over her, tongue flicking. “Delicious…”
“Let me out,” Morgan growled.
Ashmedai chuckled, but the shadows peeled away, receding like smoke until Morgan stood in his own skin again, panting. He clutched Síofra closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, the heat radiating off her trembling body.
There wasn’t much time.
He carried her deeper into the cave, heart pounding, every instinct screaming. He needed to speak to her before she lost herself completely to the fire clawing through her veins.
“Síofra…” he whispered against her temple. His hand brushed Síofra's damp cheek. “Stay with me. Please.”
He carried her carefully through the twisting tunnel, feet sure on the uneven ground. The passageway narrowed, then widened, until it opened into a vast cavern. A small pool glimmered to one side, its surface reflecting the flicker of starlight filtering through a high fissure.
Morgan exhaled, relieved. Here, he could breathe.
A broad shelf of rock jutted out against the far wall.
He’d dragged a mattress up here once, covering it with tarps when he wasn’t around.
He pulled the canvas back now, revealing a simple bed and lowered her carefully onto the furs he’d left there from his hunts.Though he couldn't shift earlier, hunting was in his blood and he knew how to skin and prepare the fur.
In a niche in the wall, tins of food were stacked in neat rows. He’d stayed here many times, hunting, living off the land, escaping the suffocating noise of the world which had marked him as inferior.
But now the thought flickered, primal and insistent as he lit the candles in the nooks in the walls: he couldn't come to her empty handed. He needed an offering worthy of his mate. A hunt. A gift, before he laid her down and claimed her. Wolves nested. Did humans? He didn’t know.
He opened the old trunk Merrik had helped him lug up here, pulling out bedding-sheets, a quilt still carrying the faint smell of cedar. He spread them over the mattress, smoothing them with large, calloused hands.
Then, with infinite care, he tucked the sheets and quilt around Síofra.
Her dazed eyes fluttered open. Slender pink-tipped fingers reached for him instinctively. He caught one in his own much larger, darker hand engulfing hers and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
The scent of her hit him like fire racing through his bloodstream. His wolf prowled under his skin,demanding that he make her his. Even Ashmedai, for once, stayed quiet in the back of his mind, understanding this was not the time for commentary from the peanut gallery.
Morgan leaned closer, his voice low, rough. “Listen to me, Síofra. You are my mate. I will never see anyone but you. I know you’re in pain until I mark you-until I fill you and seal us together. But I don’t want to do that without your consent. Do you understand?”
Her unfocused gaze searched his pale blue eyes. Then, for the briefest moment, her eyes cleared. She saw him. Whatever she found there made her nod. Slowly, she reached up, tugging at him to come closer.
He caught her wrist gently, holding her back. “Not yet,” he murmured. “I’ll be back.”
He tied a waterskin around his neck before stepping away.
His body shivered, bones cracking and reshaping until the large sable wolf stood in his place.He wondered if the shift would be as painful as before but his body knew the path now and it was almost painless and smooth this time.
He padded to the cave’s mouth and lifted his leg, spraying his scent into the wind.
“What are you-?” Ashmedai’s voice curled through him, bemused.
Marking the space, Morgan answered flatly. Keeps bears and other creatures away.
A pause, then the demon gave a dark chuckle. Interesting and primitive. Make it quick.
Morgan turned, ears flicking. Ashmedai’s presence whispered against his thoughts, a muttered chant in a language that scraped like old stone. Sparks shimmered across the mouth of the cave, weaving into a faint lattice that sealed the entrance.
“Just a protection spell,” Ashmedai said with uncharacteristic nonchalance.
Morgan huffed, shaking his fur, then padded back to the supplies.
His wolf’s tail flicked restlessly. The fire pit Merrik had helped build stood ready, its smoke-hole leading straight through the cave roof.
The scent of old cedar wood lingered from their visit a couple of days ago.
There was more wood piled towards the back of the cave under a tarp.
Ashmedai’s voice stirred again, sharper now. Let us hunt.
And Morgan knew it was time.
The night was crisp with the scent of pine and frost, the world silver under the swollen moon. Morgan padded silently through the trees, paws sinking into the loam without a sound. His wolf’s nose caught the scent first-deer. A small group, grazing nervously at the edge of the clearing.
He crouched low, eyes narrowed with purpose. He wouldn’t take the strongest, nor a doe with fawns. His wolf picked out a smaller stag, separated just far enough from the others. Perfect.
With a burst of speed, he was on it. The chase was short. One snap of powerful jaws, one shuddering collapse, and the deer stilled.
Morgan shifted back to human form, breath steaming in the cold air.
His hands moved quickly, skinning, dressing, splinting the carcass for carrying.
Blood smeared across his chest and forearms, but there was satisfaction in the rhythm of it.
This was something he could give her. An offering. A gesture older than words.
He hoisted the weight onto his shoulders, readying himself for the long trek back.
And then-
“For fuck’s sake,” Ashmedai growled.
Black smoke exploded across his skin, enveloping him in a rush. Wings tore free of his back, massive and burning at the seams. Morgan swore as his feet left the ground.
“Damn it, Ash! I had this under control!” he roared inside the demon’s head as they launched into the air.
“You take too fucking long with everything,” Ashmedai complained, unbothered, his voice rolling like smoke. “Such a slow mortal. And use my proper name. Show some respect.”
Morgan grit his teeth. “You just hijack my body every time-”
“I can. And I will,” Ashmedai interrupted smoothly. His golden eyes gleamed from the shadow-mask that now served as Morgan’s skin. “But I have learned something new. This word-‘fuck’-” He rolled it over his tongue like a jewel. “I like it. It is… very versatile.”
Morgan groaned, shoving against the demon’s hold, though he knew it was useless. “Great. Glad I could expand your vocabulary. ”
Ashmedai laughed, smoke trailing behind them as they soared back toward the cave, deer carcass clutched easily in one clawed hand.