Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
HAVOC
I scowl as I fly among the trees, the occasional caw of a crow following after me. The birds are a collective nuisance. First it was just one or two, but now six linger among the trees forcing me to time my hunts for the earlier hours when the light is dim. That is fine with me—this is my preferred time to hunt. The days are too hot and too bright in this world to enjoy the activity without the shelter of the thick growth of trees that always sheltered us in the Dark Forest. At least the chilly breeze as if ghostly fingertips are walking over one’s own skin is a familiar one, and the long shadows of the pale light of the early hour can be deceptively close to the glades in the kinder parts of the forest.
I would take a moment to find a place to bask and soak in the early light, but the issue of the crows bothers me for some reason I cannot put a finger on, and because of that I do not wish to be so far away for too long should something happen. In any case, I have to hunt to provide for my nest brother and a hungry queen.
My lip curls slightly in a sneer at the thought, but it is a halfhearted effort. The nest I had helped build now smells strongly of their mating and because it appeals to me far too much for my comfort, I spend hours far from it scouting and hunting even as it makes my heart grow heavy with longing. I am an outsider in the nest, and I feel that keenly, but I battle still against the instinct that insists to draw close and sink my pricks into the heat that would join me once more to my hive. I can’t even sleep in the same nest now without being plagued by dreams. It has gotten so bad that I have taken to sleeping on an uncomfortable mound of cloth thrown haphazardly on her couch while their scents rise tantalizingly from where they curl up together in the nest.
And it is worse now after days of their rutting. Tryst’s scent has mingled so thoroughly with hers, and the sweetness of her own scent has ripened to such a degree that it now invades my dreams, and his pleasure in mating disturbs my days through the hive bond. It has gotten to the point that I am now fantasizing of piercing her soft body with my cocks and drowning its depths with stream upon stream of my seed. And then I would pierce Tryst’s body and plow them both together as his cocks rock in and out of her with my every thrust into the tight clasp of his ass.
Groaning, I drop down in a relaxed crouch onto a tree branch and swipe a hand down my face as I thrust the fantasy away yet again for the dozenth time since rising. My hand drops wearily at my side, and I scan the dimly lit streets unenthusiastically, waiting for… something.
I prop my jaw on my fist and allow my gaze to wander aimlessly as my wings lie lax against my back and the wind ruffles my hair. From various windows, I see haunting silhouettes of decorations that bring a reluctant smile to my lips. I have to admit that Tryst is right about one thing. With all the eerily colored flickering lights for the seasonal festivities, there is a little something here reminiscent of the Dark Forest as the humans seem to relish the same frightening things that would hunt them in the night. Even the monsters dwelling here among the humans have gotten into the spirit, but none of them seem to enjoy it with the same bloodthirsty zeal as Ammayi who has, with Tryst’s help, managed to operate her magic box she calls a television to watch her little nightmare stories. Her Halloween marathon, she calls it.
My lips tip as my thoughts return to the female under my care and I shake my head with reluctant amusement. For all her love of such gruesome things, she certainly is squeamish. Tryst has long forbidden me to tell her what I hunt for our meat, since apparently the idea of eating songbirds and small rodents is distressing to her, as is roasting locusts and beetles. I shake my head in amusement because I do not understand what she would imagine that we would eat, as small as we are. There are seeds too, which supplement our meal, but all it took was Ammayi refusing to eat a mouse once for my nest brother to draw me aside to discuss strategy for how to feed “our fussy mate.”
It is ridiculous and I am certain that sooner or later Tryst will get tired of this game. But how much time will he waste in the meantime, motivated by his overwhelming sense of responsibility for something that is neither of our faults, is the question. Truthfully, it is simply bad luck, or the will of the gods, or even a freak accident—however one wished to look at it and should be treated accordingly. That Tryst remains glued to her side is impractical at best. What sort of life will she have with pixies if she cannot adapt to something as simple as our nutrition? How can we possibly make her happy, especially when she clings so much to her human comforts? This was something I had not considered beforehand and now it seems to be a glaring problem that will just repeatedly present itself.
I groan quietly in frustration, my wings buzzing in an attempt to relieve my stress. I do not know why I am making myself crazy with this. She is not even really our responsibility. Any effort I make to get her to face reality and help her adjust is subverted by Tryst’s insistence on coddling her. It is teaching her nothing of how to survive in her new world. Yet he has somehow talked himself into believing that this is what is best for all of us when this was never the plan.
We were never going to stay in the human world. We have our own lives to get back to after this ill-fated venture, and the nest we toiled over for years waiting for us to return. And it is a life that is not suited to a female who would never be able to survive in our world. The fact that Tryst is entertaining this game is absurd. What does he plan to do—spend the next few centuries sneaking food in while she is unaware and try to tend to her oversized nest? Doubly ridiculous!
There is nothing we can do but leave her with those who can properly care for her until we are able to help her return to her true size. There must be someone who knows. When we return home, I will tirelessly search them out. Fate or not, she does not deserve this. And Tryst—I know my beloved is trying to hold onto a piece of happiness he has been looking for and that I selfishly denied him for so long.
I was the one who withdrew bitterly when no queen would accept us. I was the one who refused to participate in any more chases despite my hive brother’s feelings. It is no wonder he thinks I am so heartless. But it is just the opposite. I feel as if old wounds are being cut open afresh as I watch another attempt to mate fail. Tryst may think I am being a cold bastard for not playing his game, but as each day passes, I also despair seeing how ill-suited she is to adapting to our life and how, ultimately, it is my fault she is even having to suffer it. But let Tryst think I am a cold and unfeeling asshole. I do this to spare us all the heartache.
I sigh heavily, my wings drooping though I try to ignore the pang in my heart as my chest constricts. I rub a hand over the ache but frown as my gaze settles on something sliding through the shadows near the building that we’ve claimed as our temporary territory while we are nesting there. My wings snap up curiously as my eyes attempt to follow the shadow, but it moves too quickly, blending into the shadows in a way that even many fae cannot quite accomplish. A gauzy blur of fabric whirls around them with every movement that obscures their visibility further, and I sigh with frustration when they finally disappear altogether.
I stare after them for several heartbeats, my claws drumming contemplatively on my thigh. Should I pursue? There is little point as far as I see it, especially as it seems to be fleeing from my territory rather than lingering, but there is something about the appearance of the fae in this place that makes me uneasy. There are not many who can do that, but enough that it is difficult to narrow it down. Fairies, elves, some forest trolls all have such capabilities… Goblins. I blink as a second creature shifts quickly through the shadows in hot pursuit of the first, but this one stops beneath my tree and tips its head at just the right angle that I can see its sharp features beneath its hood.
It is a goblin. Perhaps a mating hunt after a gobliness? Curious, I drop from the tree, landing lightly on his shoulder only to bounce away with a hum of my wings when his short blade slashes dangerously close through the air.
“Careful,” I growl, my wings buzzing and chitin chiming angrily. “Luck-crossed goblin, I was just going to point you in the direction that the gobliness went. At very least one of us should have the mate we seek.”
The male pauses and pushes back his hood, curiosity brightening his yellow eyes. “Gobliness? Of what nonsense do you speak, little pixie? I have no interest in goblinesses.” He suddenly grins mischievously. “I, Grimsal, already have a mate, and a lusty, playful one at that. Besides,” he chuckles, “Candy would skin me and use my hide in one of her spells if I dared such a thing.” He sighs as he casts a frustrated glance around. “No, I was scouting my territory when I caught a strange scent and pursued, but it seems that I was too late. I do not think it was a goblin. Are you certain you saw a goblin?” he inquires, squinting at me.
I shake my head haplessly. “I just assumed when I saw you from above,” I reply, motioning to the tree branches overhead. “I thought it was a mate hunt.”
“Ah. That is a natural mistake,” the male agreed with a nod of his head. He scratches behind one long ear and then shrugs. “No helping it now. Whatever it was is gone, though I am surprised that it would come so near crows. They are not kind to some races of fairies, as sometimes crows are messengers from the gods and protectors, but other crows can be bad, bad news.” His neck cranes as he peers up at the trees in the near distance, making the hair on the back of my neck prickle. “Some use crows as familiars, and not the friendly sort of fae. Not any fae you want to have around.” He slaps his hands on his legs, dusting them off. “Well, I best head back home before Candy sends something out to find me… For a human, she has been getting better frightfully fast at summoning little spirits to assist her.” He chuckles a bit at that, darting off into the shadows in the direction from which he had come.
I stare after him, slightly overwhelmed and more than a little confused as I flit back into the tree with a flutter of the black loincloth around my legs. Truthfully, although I am filled with apprehension now about the crows, I cannot seem to pry my attention from his mated status. I am a little shocked at that since goblins are notorious for mating among their own. Or at least that is the case among the clans in the Dark Forest. Imagine one claiming a human! I wonder absently what sort of human a goblin would have chosen, and I wonder if the gods had played him such a cruel hand as they had me. If so, he is treating the whole matter with a shocking amount of cheer. In this respect he reminds me of Tryst, and I decide that I must pity the male. Or perhaps the gods were kind and gave him a far more resilient and adaptive female. I am still staring morosely into the distance when I feel the branch vibrate with the impact of Tryst dropping upon it.
I glance over at the male, relieved to see him, even more so since I can sense an echo of pleasure in our bond from him. He has so seldom left Ammayi’s side in the nest, and I struggle being in there with them, trapped with their mingling pheromones, so it is seldom that we have a moment together. And he has been so patient despite my obvious retreat. I know it has hurt him, and I can see that wariness in his eyes now. This is my chance to talk some sense into him and show him that I am committed to turning over a new leaf so that he can have every happiness he deserves. Delighted, I greet him with a welcoming smile. His answering smile is brief, but it is there before Tryst’s wings flatten against his back, and he regards me curiously.
“Havoc, I have been looking for you,” he murmurs.
“As it happens, I was going to find you as well,” I tell him, my wings fluttering behind me merrily.
A look of surprise registers on his beloved face, but he cocks his head with a hesitant smile. “You have. And you are no longer angry,” he marvels.
“Of course I am not angry,” I murmur as I hold my hand out for his, and warmth curls deep in my belly when his hand slides into mine. “I have been frustrated and angry, but the cool air has cleared my head some these last few mornings and it has made me realize that I have been viewing everything the wrong way.” I give his hand a gentle squeeze. “And that you have been right about letting my old bitterness carry such weight in our lives to the point of depriving us of happiness.”
His smile widens uncertainly, but some of the tension he’s been carrying in his shoulders eases. “You have? Truly?” At my nod and the truth he doubtlessly feels through our bond, he releases a soft sigh, his shimmer lighting up with pleasure as he peers at me. “I knew I just had to be patient. I knew that you would realize it if you just had the time to truly think about it.”
I nod, pleased that this is going so well. “I’ve been trying to think of the best way to apologize to you so that we can forget all the anger and move forward, but I keep coming up short. All I can do is promise to do better, Tryst, and to share myself fully so that there is never a time you feel alone again. Do you forgive me?”
Eyes bright, he brushes his dark hair from his face and nods. “Yes. Yes, of course. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me, Havoc,” he rasps. “I have been waiting so long—decades—for you to realize this.” He draws a deep breath, his happiness brightening his shimmer. “I just know that things will be better now.”
I grin over at him lazily as I reach over and cup his cheek, the claw of my thumb gently grazing his chitin. “I swear it.”
My hand circles the back of Tryst’s neck, and I drag him against me, my mouth descending on his with relief, claiming him as mine—my hive. He is as responsive as ever, his mouth opening for my tongue with a soft moan, his body softening against me as his wings flag in surrender. I smile against his mouth as I wrap my other arm around his waist, tugging his hips against mine so that we are lined up perfectly and I can feel the impression of his cock beneath his loincloth hardening against my own stiffening pricks. I growl softly and swivel my hips slowly so that our cocks rub enticingly upon each other. Gods, how I miss him. I revel in having him in my arms again so much that I can forgive him for rutting Ammayi without my leave.
Lowering my hand, I slide it down over his ass, cupping it briefly before allowing my fingers to dip and trace the crease of his buttock and thigh. I drag a claw just below the chitin of his hip and flick aside his loincloth to slip my hand beneath. His cocks are hot and achingly familiar in my hand, and I immediately caress them, dragging my fingers and claws lightly up their length from root to tip. The plump head of his upper cock begs to be petted, so I oblige, flicking my claws lightly along the ridge of its head as I circle my finger at its tip, collecting the little beads of seed rising swiftly in response.
Tryst moans against my mouth, his hips bucking, sliding the weight of his upper cock into my fist as his lower cock brushes my knuckles. I stroke him, tugging gently, teasing his cock with little caresses, making it harder for me. It is not engorged yet, but it soon will be, and my own cocks ache with excitement for the moment when Tryst will whimper and beg for his own release.
Dragging my lips from his, I lick his bottom lip and brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Tryst, I have missed you,” I rasp, dragging my nose in a loving nuzzle against his cheek. “You are so beautiful and taste so sweet—a succulent spiced apple I want to devour. Let us not fight any more.”
He trembles against me and more of his seed slips over my hand as he fervently nods. “Gods, yes, Havoc,” he sweetly moans. “I do not wish to fight either, when our loving is always so much more pleasing.” His hand grazes my upper cock beneath my loincloth, and it reflexively jerks, spurting seed onto his hand. With his hand slickened in this way, he strokes me, coaxing more of my hot seed from my sac. “I wonder if you still taste like the darkest honey. Does it still boil out of you in such strong eruptions? I suspect that you have much sap that needs to be released,” he adds, his claw wiggling, teasing the tiny opening at the tip of my cock.
I moan in agreement and my head falls back as I feel my loincloth slip from around my hips. His breath fans my chitin for a moment, and then I feel it on my shaft before his long tongue extends and I feel the blazing heat of it slide over me. My cocks twitch as he tongues them, bathing them in his pheromone drenched saliva until I am trembling so hard that my chitin chimes. Even my wings flutter and twitch and then snap up when his mouth closes around my upper cock and sucks it deep into his throat and his tongue continues to whirl against the shaft. Grunting with pleasure, I thrust into his mouth, delighting in the light glide of his fangs against me and the tight grip of his hands fisting my cocks, and he transfers his attentions between them, coaxing my sap from me.
My shimmer brightens with my rising pleasure, my sac tightening as my body prepares to give him what he demands. I shake my head stubbornly and hold back even though it makes me tremble. I do not want our first embrace in so long to end like this. Wrapping my hand in the length of his hair, I pull his head back and growl with pleasure as his fangs slide off me, the tight pressure of his mouth dragging one final time. He smiles up at me, his eyes heavily lidded with desire as his deep blue shimmer pulses beckoningly. My eyes rove over him, taking in his beautifully sculpted form and the two engorged shafts jutting up from between his thighs in a blatant testimony of his need.
I slowly release his hair and step away, gesturing to the tree’s trunk. “Against the tree,” I order.
His wings twitch and he moves around me cautiously, his gaze watching me curiously as he licks my golden essence from his fingers. Approaching the trunk, he flattens his belly against the tree, his legs spread wide for me. I breathe in the sweet scent of his pheromones as I stalk toward him and grip his hip firmly in one hand and drag it back, positioning him properly for my piercing. Lining both of my cocks snugly against his ass, I pin his wings with my opposite hand and tilt my hips so that both heads press deeply into him, inciting a moan of pleasure from the male. I hold him there against the tree as I thrust into him, my cocks working their way deep into the tight confines of his ass, slowly at first and then faster with every squeeze of his muscles around me.
Grunting low in my throat I begin to thrust harder, and I release my hold on his dark wings to wrap one arm around his waist and take his upper cock in hand. My forearm catches his hips against my pelvis, allowing me to swivel and snap my hips as I rut his ass. I stroke down the shaft of his cock on the downbeat of every thrust, making him gasp and leak his sweet honey over my fist. I drag in deep, pheromone-rich breaths as I work my cocks in and out of him, and I stare down between us so that I can enjoy the sight of my shaft sliding out of and disappearing back into his hole stretched so tightly over me until pleasure begins to pulse in my veins, drawing deeper and deeper, and it bursts from me in sprays of seed into his tight ass, and spilling freely between us as he erupts with a shout within my hand.
I drive deep and hold myself there, growling as my cocks pulse and jerk within him, and I stroke his seed from him in long streams as I deliver my own load within the hot clench of his ass rippling so tightly around me. Panting, I release his hip to rest my weight on my forearm against the tree above Tryst’s head and smile down as his quivering wings. Gold is splashed on the branch and the trunk of the tree beneath us, and I admire it with considerable satisfaction as I slowly pull my cocks free and kiss his shoulder. There is a hollow sensation deep within me of something missing, but I push the sensation away. It is ridiculous—this was as perfect as any of our ruttings in our youth.
“That is better,” I sigh, and I reluctantly step back. I do not wish to part with him so soon and would rather spend an hour or more curled up with him, but we are exposed, and it is not a good idea to linger longer than necessary in the open. Besides, once we return to our nest, we will have all the time in the world to indulge. “Now things can finally get back to normal.”
Tryst smiles languidly and nods as he uses a leaf to clean our combined mess from his chitin. “It is a good thing that you finally came to your senses,” he teases. “I thought for sure that I would have to take more drastic measures.”
Cocking my head, I give him a perplexed look as I quickly tear an edge off the paper ghost floating in the tree next to me to clean myself before fastening my loincloth. “Come to my senses?” I nod slowly. “I suppose I did.”
He grins flirtatiously at me and my heart immediately warms at that familiar loving expression. It is enough to reassure me that my brief feeling of something mixing in our lovemaking was nothing more than the product of my imagination. “Of course. You cannot truly think that you were thinking clearly protesting so much about our queen. I cannot wait to tell Ammayi the good news! It may take her a bit to warm up to you after everything, but I know that she will?—”
“Wait. Why would Ammayi need to warm up to me?” I interrupt him, puzzled by the delight carrying through our bond as he speaks. “It would be better for us all if we start distancing ourselves.” I frown at the lock of shock and betrayal on his face. “You don’t truly mean to carry on like you have been? It is not fair to any of us. And I meant what I said about turning over a new leaf. We will get things settled here, and when we get back home, things will be different. It will be just as it was when we were newly paired as a hive, and next breeding season we will?—”
“What about Ammayi?” Tryst interrupts, and I am alarmed to see his expression shuttering behind a grim mask. Something cold moves through our bond.
“Ammayi… Well, we will help her get settled into her new life as much as we can, and once we get home, I will swear I will find someone among the fae who might be able to reverse this?—”
Tryst’s bitter laughter makes my wings snap out in surprise, and he shakes his head as he regards me sadly. “I should have known better, and yet I actually believed…” He sighs heavily as he fixes me with a hard stare. “Forget it. I should have known that it was too good to be true.”
“But I never said…” I protest weakly, guilt stirring darkly within the pit of my stomach as he spins away, his wings snapping out angrily.
“Just stay away from me, Havoc,” he whispers over his shoulder, the finality of his words echoing along our bond and deep into me. I feel my heart crack within my chest as he flits up from the tree branch.
“You would abandon me?” I shout in bewilderment. “We are hive—we are practically mated even without a queen, and we have been for more years than that female has been alive. You would throw it all away for a female who cannot survive in our world?”
I stumble back as he rounds on me, his chitin chiming angrily as his emotions sting me repeatedly through our bond. “We have a queen. I have a queen, and her happiness is as much my responsibility as yours is—which means I will do whatever I need to do to help her survive in our world.”
“What, by disguising her meat, lying to her, and pretending that living in her human abode is the next best thing to being human?” I reply sarcastically. “How does that make her happy rather than watching her die a little more inside because she is no longer fully human in the ways that matter most to her? She does not wish to be a pixie!”
“She does not need to be a pixie. And because of that I will do whatever I need to do,” he shouts back. “My love for Ammayi is no less than my love for you, you pathetic troll gob, which means there is nothing I would not do to make it easier… to make her happy, just as I do for you. You are the one who wishes to abandon us and throw our love away. And that is exactly what you will be doing because I will not leave her just to fulfill your selfish desires and save your pride. Because that is what this really is. You will not give Ammayi even the slightest chance because you will not bend even a little or make any sacrifice to your comfort or pride. You think you are so strong, but you are afraid of the changes that we must make. Do not act as if she is the weak one. And do not blame me when this is all because of you .”
I stumble backward, my wings fluttering in surprise at the vehemence of his words. Surely he does not mean it. How many times have we lay in his hammock, swinging lazily as we whispered confessions of our love beneath the towering trees? He would not give that all up to remain in this place.
“You intend to stay here?” I rasp in disbelief, realization dawning on me. Never had I imagined that he would actually wish to stay in this world.
He draws back then with a bitter laugh and glares at me scornfully. “Fulfill your obligation as you see fit to Ammayi, but after that we are done. I will not tear Ammayi from this world any more than I would abandon her to an unhappy fate alone here. Return to the nest when you are ready—or do not. I do not care, and I can comfort Ammayi without you.”
His parting words lingering in the air between us, Tryst flits away into the rising morning and I am left feeling more lost and alone than before. I thought I was making the right decision—the best decision for all of us, and yet all I did was hurt him. Not only that, but I fooled myself into actually believing that this was just a game born out of desperation, or a sense of obligation. I refused to see how much he had already bonded to Ammayi. And now I hurt him even more by deceiving him. And perhaps even deceiving myself.
What have I done?