Chapter 61
Avice
Avice awoke clean, moisturised, and in a fresh chemise. She was upon a bed of furs, cushioned by a lush rug of wildflowers, surrounded by towering walls of ancient branches. Flat on her back, she squinted up. The sky was dark and dotted with stars in a rainbow of hues.
Not the sky and stars. I am in the Underneath.
Avice slowly sat up, waiting for a jolt of agony that never came, and clutched what had been her injured side.
She stroked the raised pearlescent scar through the linen and then pressed her ribs.
No pain, blood, or bruises. She rubbed her nape, her fingers brushing against her hair.
She ran her hands through her mane. Her tresses were smooth, clean, and tamed.
Her fingers shifted to her pendant as she tried to clear the shadowy images from her mind.
Avice recalled Trewoofe had come for her; an illicit thrill swirled her belly at the memory.
He had decimated the men who guarded the gallows.
Had he killed Father Peter and Robert Shepherd?
She hoped so. But where was her Knucker?
She licked her dry lips, wetting them so she could speak.
“Trewoofe? My Lord?” she croaked. “Are you there?”
No answer came but the gentle hum that emanated from the giant purple geode standing in the centre of their nest. Avice felt that was right, thinking of it as ‘theirs’. Trewoofe had said she was welcome to stay, and that this could be her home. Now, more than ever, she wanted things to be that way.
She spotted her belongings neatly organised beside the furs. She grabbed the bottle of healing waters, swigged, and sated her raging thirst.
“My Lord,” she called out again, louder now she was not so thirsty. “Are you there?”
His handsome Knucker head peeked over the edge of their nest. “Little witch!” he exclaimed. “I am so sorry I was not here when you awoke, I needed to pass water.”
Avice beamed up at him. She had never been so delighted to see him. He looked so beautiful in the dim, shimmering light of the crystals. Trewoofe glittered in a rainbow of hues, the geodes refracting their shades off his scales.
“No need to apologise, I only just awoke.” She scooted forward and tested the flowers with her toes. They were softer than finely spun wool, so she attempted to stand. “I am so happy to—”
Avice had not anticipated how weak her muscles would be as she stepped. Her leg gave way, but Trewoofe was faster than lightening. In a blink, he slid down the side of their nest, shifted to his human form and caught her in his strong arms.
“My soul-bound,” he whimpered. “You nearly passed through the Shimmering Veil. I beg you to take things slowly. You have been sleeping for some time, allow your body to adjust.”
She blew her hair up from her face and saw the concern shining in his eyes. Avice was also aware that Trewoofe was naked – very naked – and there was only her thin chemise separating them. Her cheeks reddened at that knowledge, and she clenched her thighs together.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to tear her eyes from him.
“You are most welcome,” Trewoofe replied, planting her firmly back on her feet.
His wide hand supported the small of her back, his palm circling a pleasant soothing motion.
Avice could not look away. She never thought she would see his human face again.
She cupped his cheek and ran her thumb over the sharp point of his chin.
Her fingers drifted down to his jugular and caressed there.
Trewoofe purred, his throat flushing pink and purple.
She spread her hand on his chest and felt the thrum of his heart match the beat of her pulse.
“We are both here, together, in your Kingdom,” she stated.
“Our Kingdom,” Trewoofe corrected.
Avice crushed herself to him and felt the press of his erection against her belly. She knew that was her doing. She had been touching him in the places he was the most sensitive.
“When I was about to die—”
Trewoofe growled. “I would not have let you die. If you did, I would have ripped down the Shimmering Veil, marched into paradise, and brought you back.”
She placed a second palm on his chest and rubbed soothing patterns over his scars. “I know, I know. You are a big, strong Knucker, and not even death would stop you.”
He preened from her compliments. “That is right.”
“It is,” she agreed. “Now, let me finish what I was going to say.”
Trewoofe rested his other hand on her rear and gave her a squeeze. “Alright.”
“When I was about to die, I had only one regret.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Only one?”
She blushed. “Perhaps two. But one is more important.”
“Are you sure?” he teased, shifting his hand from the small of her back to join with the other, both softly palming at her.
“Trewoofe, did you not just scold me for doing too much too soon,” she playfully admonished.
“Yes, but I know you will not trip if I am holding you like this,” he hummed. “You were telling me about regrets?”
Avice had trouble concentrating; his distracting ministrations sent little jolts of pleasure up her spine, making her sigil twitch and her skin sing.
Her mind grasped for the words she had been trying to say. “I love you.”
“I know,” he replied, pressing her forehead to hers.
She blinked dumbly up at him. “You know?”
He pecked her nose. “You told me, when I found you in the cage.”
“I did?”
She could not remember. Why could she not remember? She knew that loss of blood, injury, and stress could temporarily addle minds. She did not think it would happen to her. Her mind had always been sharp and quick to cut through to the heart of the matter.
“I love you, too,” Trewoofe replied. “Even more than the scent of wildflowers, the Sun on my scales, the healing waters, and your honey cakes.”
Avice giggled as he rained sloppy kisses down her face and neck.
Sweet relief relaxed her into him. She was almost giddy that they had confessed the depth of their feelings.
His lips grew hotter with each touch and set her blood on her fire with desire.
He was not being tidy, and by the time he found her lips, she was quivering and slick with his saliva.
“My soul-bound,” he murmured, pecking gently at her mouth.
She knew he was being careful.
Avice did not want careful.
She slammed into him.
“Ooof!” Trewoofe exclaimed.
Their lips slotted easily together. Like they had always known each other.
They may have only exchanged kisses once before, but their bodies remembered.
Trewoofe licked a stripe over her lips, tracing the pattern of her knotty scar.
She opened and eagerly welcomed him. He probed her mouth, and her teeth scraped against his fangs as the heat between them scorched.
She was not just hungry for her King, she was starving.
Avice was very aware of his cock as it pressed, hard and urgent, against her belly.
She wanted to touch it, taste it, and feel it as he pushed it inside her.
This was her second regret, that she had not ‘rutted’ with Trewoofe yet, that she did not feel his weight on top of her, nor the feeling of his length thrusting in and out of her.
She was determined to live with no more regrets.
Just as she was about to slide her hands from his chest to encircle his cock, she recalled they had been interrupted the last time he was in human shape by… Bramble.
Bramble had interrupted them. Her brave and loyal familiar. She jolted, pulling back from their passionate embrace. She burnt with shame. She had been so intent on kissing and touching Trewoofe that she had not even thought to ask about him.
A line appeared between his eyebrows at her hesitation, and his arousal colours dimmed. “Little witch, are you well?”
“Bramble? Is he…?”
Trewoofe broke into a smile. “He is recovering well! The Wulver have been looking after him and Ashling. Would you like to see them?”
Relief dropped her shoulders. “Please, I need to know they are alright.”
Trewoofe insisted on shifting back into his Knucker body to carry her to Wulver-led. In return, Avice insisted on bringing him some clothing if he wished to be in his human shape while they visited Bramble and Ashling.
He pouted at this. “My Faeries do not care as much about clothing as humans do.”
Avice dropped her outer dress over her chemise. She then stuffed his breeches and tunic into her medical satchel, planning on taking them with her.
“Do the Wulver wear clothes?” she asked.
Trewoofe looked away. “…Yes.”
So, smug in her victory, she sat comfortably in her customary seat behind his horns.
She gawked at the beautiful passageway her Knucker ambled into.
The river flowed lethargically, shimmering and chiming, reminding her of the Sunlight on the sea.
Embedded geodes in the tunnel walls glowed more brightly and upped their soothing hum as they passed.
Then, there were the flowers. Trewoofe had mentioned that this was new for the Underneath.
Everywhere they walked, they popped into existence; each one bright and vivid, like tiny Suns glowing in the gloom.
“Your Kingdom is beautiful,” Avice murmured, pressing her palm to his crest.
“Our Kingdom,” he asserted.
Her stomach swirled at that. “Our Kingdom, then.”
Trewoofe moved from the tunnel into a wide, tall cavern.
Avice grinned as she studied the settlement of Wulver-led.
It was wide and warm, with pelts and carvings adorning the crystal studded walls.
Hide-walled tents circled a bonfire and a pink central geode.
Avice squinted through the gloom, spotting a tall wolfish figure stepping out of a shelter and head towards the fire.
The aroma of roasting meat wafted over to them, and her stomach growled.
“Hungry, little witch?” Trewoofe rumbled.
“Very.” She nodded. “I did not realise how starving I was until I smelt whatever they are cooking.”