Kaitlyn
Possibly I should feel less creeped out with Linton’s warm, looming presence by my side. But after a day of running from Redcaps, meeting skeletal monks, and then wrangling a mothman in a kitchen, my energy reserves are at rock bottom.
Admittedly the meal we helped prepare was tasty and filling. But hanging around in the weird vast hall when we were the last ones there was not going to happen. At least the personification of creepy, my mothman, was agreeable.
Even if his skills would probably have been useful had whatever was making my skin crawl made itself known.
Watching him watching me in the kitchens was hilarious.
I admit, my sense of being watched had been triggered back in the bakery, but then I didn’t know what to look for.
Now I know Linton, his ability to keep himself hidden is destroyed.
Even when he tries to hide, I find him almost immediately.
But then I had to pretend I hadn’t seen him because the grin on his face was too good to forgo.
I genuinely think Linton was enjoying himself. And once the rest of the sanctuary seekers in the kitchen saw he had some uses, such as chopping vegetables and turning the spit, they were significantly more forgiving than the warlock sitting next to us.
We make our way through what seems like a deserted building up to our quarters. Once inside, having seen the bed, I realise we haven’t properly discussed the sleeping arrangements.
Even if Linton claims not to sleep.
“I’m going to use the privy,” I advise him, opening the door to the small room.
Linton is instantly by my side staring into the room.
“I’m going to use it alone,” I point out.
“I need a piss too,” he says.
“We can’t do it together. You go first.”
Linton swivels his head to look at me.
“Why can’t we piss together?”
I look at the privy and back at him.
“Just go, will you?” I give him a shove.
Linton grins at me. “My spicket has been most unruly since I met you, my Kaitlyn. Pissing won’t be easy.”
“That is far more information than I need, Linton.”
I take a step back, but his gaze doesn’t leave mine as he delves into his pants, and I turn away with a squeak of alarm, hurrying away from the privy.
It sounds like a waterfall behind me as I grab the bag Joanna gave me earlier and open it. Inside are my nightclothes, a couple of pairs of knickers, and a small wax paper parcel which has spidery writing on it.
To help with the Bluecap
I can’t imagine what help could be contained in the small packet which would deal with a six and a half foot monster who has zero filter.
While he remains busy, I haul off my dress, which has remained remarkably clean despite my time in the kitchens, and open the packet.
Inside is a new nightdress. It is a similar colour to the dress but made out of silk so lightweight I can hardly feel it.
It is stunning, and I hurry to put it on. I’m just pulling it down over the rest of my body when Linton reappears.
As soon as he sees me, he stops dead and makes a choking noise.
“Are you okay?” I query.
“You are so beautiful, my Kaitlyn,” he says in a rasp, his dark red eyes tracing over me. “You make my heart beat differently.”
He places one hand over his chest and continues with his lingering gaze. I look down at my nightdress, and as I move one leg, I realise the way I’m standing near the window, with the way the setting sunlight is entering our room—it is almost completely see through.
Before I can do or say anything, he has closed the gap between us.
“I don’t understand what you do to me,” he says, curling an arm around my waist. “You touch my antennae, and my spicket goes off. You have a scent between your legs which makes me want to feed. You give me your blood and it’s as if I have reached paradise. How do you do all of this?”
He traces a knuckle down my cheek, his eyes filled with confusion.
“You call me your mate, Linton,” I say softly. “You know what a mate is, don’t you?”
“Yes.” He nods, but that crease in his brow remains. His antennae are half lifted as he continues to study my face. “The Barghest has a mate. The Lambton Wyrm has a mate.”
“And can’t a Bluecap take a mate?”
He stares at me. I put my hand on his jaw and sweep my thumb over his chin.
Linton is exasperating, chaos, dangerous, and yet, when I look at him, he is lost and lonely, his infrequent smiles only ever directed at me.
Whatever has been done to him, he is a shadow creature, and one who responds to his environment which has, as far as I can tell, been fear and loathing.
Whatever else Linton is, he doesn’t deserve to be shunned.
I brush my thumb over his full lips, and Linton closes his eyes, a short breath panting out of his mouth. Winding my hand around his neck, I pull him down to me and press my lips to his.
I’m not sure I know what he will do. Maybe he will run away.
Instead he groans against me, over my mouth, and returns the kiss, his hand sliding behind my head, into my hair, the arm around my waist lifting me into the air.
He is dominant, possessive, but hesitant as if this is the first time he has kissed. When I slip my tongue between his lips, he moans in response, but almost immediately he is tangling with me, kissing me back, kissing me harder.
“Kaitlyn.” He moans my name, his hard body pressed against mine, and I can feel an equally hard length pressing up against my abdomen.
My mothman is packing something other than a weapon.