Chapter 21
Emmie
He doesn't know I can see the body at the edge of the field.
Each savage cut across the Minotaur's skin is seared into my brain.
Its pink muscles bright against the dark, downy fur.
The large familiar looking stinger sticking out of its chest. I'm not sure if he was first poisoned like I was, and then slowly hunted, or cut down mercilessly.
This feels like so much more than that. Premeditated.
The Ananea in the alleyway springs to the front of my mind.
I've now had three interactions, well, kind of interactions with a group of creatures that apparently stick to the fringes of society.
Outcasts, if you will. Is this them hunting?
Have I been naive enough to think that just because Portarius is safe, I'm also exempt from them?
That they would ignore their baser instincts to wait until I succumb to the poison spreading through my body.
Closing my eyes, I feel the silent tears fall down my face.
Despite already knowing that I wanted to go through with the bonding ceremony, a part of me worries that I don't really have a choice.
But I have to try, it's the only chance I have.
There is a future here for me, just at the tips of my fingers, but it's still not close enough to grasp.
Portarius carries me swiftly into the house and places me on the edge of the bed, his stance wide as he crosses his arms.
“We must go ahead with the bonding tonight. I'm sorry to rush you, but it is clear they are hunting you now.”
“How didn't we hear them? I thought you could feel if there was a threat.
They dragged a whole body behind the cottage, Portarius, and we didn't even know,” I whisper, looking to the floor.
If I climb across the bed to the window, I'll be able to see the lifeless legs from here. The thought sends a shiver through me.
“You were not meant to look, Emmie,” he sighs, dragging his hand over his face, quickly glancing out the window.
“They play a game with you, with us. It is only when they intend harm that I feel the hate build. This was a warning. They know you have only days left, and they’re letting us know they are waiting. Watching. ”
“You keep saying they? How many do you think there are?”
I look to the corners of the ceiling, a place that I would usually find a single spider back on Earth.
Ananea are obviously too big to create a nest in these rooms, but the fear is still there.
A half human, half spider hanging from the ceiling is enough of a scare to get me walking into Portarius' arms, pressing into him as close as I can.
“Can we get ready?” I mumble, my face pressed into his stomach. His large hand rubbing up and down my back.
“I would like that very much,” he says softly. “I will stay with you as you prepare.”
I pull away, crouching down to my small pile of belongings, mentally checking off what I need to do. Nails, blow dry my hair, maybe even straighten it. Make up, perfume, do I need to eat before I start on my face? I look at my small pile of belongings.
“Fuck,” I gasp, laughing. Did I just forget that I was in Hell?
What the fuck is happening? In such a short period of time, I've forgotten where I'm from and how I got here.
So much so, that the ingrained list of things I do to get ready popped into my head like it has done a million times before.
Laughing to myself at the idiocy of it all, like I could just plug a hair straightener into the wall and get on with it.
Portarius comes and stands next to me, his brow dipped in confusion at why I'm chuckling, crouched on the floor.
“Emmie?” He questions.
“It's okay, I'm fine. I just thought … for a second, I thought we were back on Earth and I needed hours to get ready.”
I pull out the silken dress that Selene made, stepping straight into it since I never redressed after our bath.
Which reminds me, Portarius is also naked, and I sneak a quick glance at him.
His heavy cock hangs between his legs. The firm ridges along his shaft causing an involuntary squeeze to my thighs.
He hasn't let me take him in my mouth yet.
Every time I even tried to get close, he simply changed our position until I was coming on his fingers or tongue.
Looking up at him, the corner of his mouth twitches in a knowing smirk, like he knew what I was thinking, and I can feel the blush creep up my neck.
“Let me unravel your hair, it is better loose while we bond. The spirits prefer their own designs during the ceremony.”
Spirits?
“What exactly is going to happen when we bond, Portarius?” I ask, standing in front of him as he begins to slowly unravel the braids from my hair.
“We become one,” he says, and I feel the slight move to his hands as he shrugs his shoulders.
One?
What the hell does that mean?
“I'm not absorbed into you, am I?” The image of me fused to his back assaults my mind, or maybe I was right about the bath, and he's trying to eat me. Maybe, how we become one is I just live inside him forever.
Something you'd expect more of in Hell are grotesque creatures, but the closest I’ve come to are the damned, so I think the probability of becoming some sort of conjoined hybrid is low on the list of possibilities.
Taking a deep breath, I try again. “I mean, what happens to us? What does becoming one mean?” He continues to work at untangling my hair, no doubt matted from days of having it tied back
“Do not fear the ceremony, Emmie. Our souls join as our bodies join.”
Why is he so short with his explanations? Can he try to be more articulate, given that this is my first time bonding.
“How many people or other monsters have you tried to bond with before?” If our bodies connect, does that mean sex?
Is the ceremony just a shag in the shallows, because now I’m starting to doubt if this is even a thing?
It can't be a ruse to get me to sleep with him because, lord knows, I've tried to do that, but he could also be naive to my advances.
He didn't exactly know what kissing was until I showed him.
Maybe I need to be more direct. I want to put your beautiful massive cock inside my, what does he call it, forbidden centre.
“There has been no one before you. No one has come close to igniting this fire within me, let alone awaken my warrior. There has only been you, Emmie. There will only be you.”
He runs his fingers through my now untangled hair like a comb, ensuring there are no more knots.
“How are you not more nervous about this?” I whisper, afraid to say it out loud.
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he turns me gently until I face him.
Moving his hands to the bottom of my dress, he bunches the fabric, lifting me from my thighs until we are face to face and my legs are wrapped around him.
Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back, taking a deep breath in through his nose.
“Did you know I can smell your cunt? It was the first thing I noticed about you.” I gasp at the blunt statement.
Apparently, this is Hell if I’m known as the human with the smelly pussy.
My cheeks flame in embarrassment, and I squirm in his arms, trying to get down, but he holds me tight.
“It was subtle at first, but still distinctly there.
Like the smell of rain on a hot summer's day.
The more I realised it came from you, the more I noticed other things.
The smell of the warm fields surrounding us.
The way the grass turned to face you, each blade hoping they would be chosen to soften every step you took.
My heart began to beat faster when we would touch.
My skin felt like it was on fire and frozen all at once.
The instant I tasted your cunt, all of my senses came to life for just a second, and I couldn't stop trying to get that feeling back —”
“You’re addicted to my pussy?” I blurt out, interrupting him.
Chuckling, he brings his nose to my neck and drags a path up the side as he takes another deep breath.
“Yes, I am addicted to your cunt, but for other reasons.
That first taste gave me a glimpse of what being bonded to you would feel like, and I don't know if I can do it justice trying to explain it.
It's like home, Emmie. This brief look at utopia.
I'm not nervous because I have had a glimpse of what our life could be.”
Looking deep into his ice blue eyes, all I see is hope.
Hope for everything we could be together.
Hope for a future he never thought he would have, and I guess in a way, I didn't think of a future like this because it always seemed unattainable.
Like no one could fit the space that was waiting to be filled.
I guess now I know why no one was ever good enough, because there was an eight foot Gatekeeper waiting for me to fall into Hell and find him.