Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
TUCKER
It’s a shitty world when a man can’t get a glass of water in the middle of the night without running into some mischief. A shadowy figure stands with his back pressed against the wall and I have a strong suspicion he doesn’t think I can see him.
Am I really about to do the tango with this person while bare-ass naked?
I play along, finishing my glass of water and placing it in the sink. On my way out of the kitchen, I walk past the incompetent intruder. And just when he thinks the coast is clear, I elbow him in the throat.
He coughs out a choked gasp.
I grab him by the back of the head, spin him around, and smash his head into the wall.
Crack!
He throws his elbow back, landing with a crunch against my nose. I return the favor by dragging him by the back of his cloak and tossing him to the ground.
“I’m going to enjoy every second of this.” I hover over him, cracking my fists. “You think you can come into my home? Think you can—”
He kicks his foot sideways, sweeping me to the floor. Totally my fault. Got distracted by all the bravado. I won’t make that same mistake again. He shuffles forward, climbs to his feet, and races to the front door.
I’m right behind him, managing to rise to my feet while trying desperately to ignore the blood flowing straight to my cock. Semi-hard at first, and then when I let out a roar, at attention.
Raging like the wolf within.
He rips the door open and attempts to slam it shut behind him, but it only buys him a precious second or so as I squeeze through the narrow opening and slam it closed behind me.
He runs down the tree-lined path leading to the village, peeking over his shoulder as I quickly close the gap between us.
He twists on his feet and readies himself in a fighting stance, swaying with a knife in hand.
I lunged forward, throwing caution to the wind and throwing us both to the ground. The knife slips free, dropping out of reach. I straddle him with my naked body, knees digging into the mud.
Under the light of the moon, I get my first good look at the mask he wears. It’s shaped like the beak of a bird with metallic feathers engraved into the sides.
I place one hand around his throat, and then the other. Gentle enough at first to let him feel it, to let him realize he’s lost. He grunts as he reaches outward, his fingers scraping over the ground, desperately trying to grab the knife that is just out of reach.
Give a man a little hope, and he’ll fight like hell. To make this easier, I could grab the knife myself and toss it into the forest, but then there’d be no hope. No fight. And where the hell is the fun in that?
Every time he gasps for air, I tighten my grip on his throat.
There are two ways to kill someone.
Compassionately, which I take no pleasure in.
Vengefully, which drains the pleasure straight from me.
The tighter I squeeze the man’s throat, the faster my heart beats.
The more he squirms beneath me, the harder my cock throbs, leaking pre-cum onto his black cloak.
Every gak, every urk, reminds me that I’m born of this place, the rage within fed by the dirt. I squeeze so tight that my right thumb cracks under the pressure of my left.
My name carries through the night, echoing through the wind and startling me.
Coming from inside the manor..
It’s Forest’s voice—his scream—and he’s in trouble.
I peek over my shoulder, distracted.
The next thing I know, a sharp pain jolts through me, like my balls are being turned into scrambled eggs. The man chokes, gasps, coughs as he crawls away from me after assaulting me with his knee.
Forest screams again, and I have to make a choice.
I look back at the man to find he’s found his footing as he runs towards the village. Gritting my teeth, I swipe the knife off the ground and head back towards the manor.
I throw open the front door of the house and race inside, heading straight for the stairs, but the sound of splashing water from the pool steals my attention.
The glass windows are shattered, debris littering the floors of both the den and the pool wing.
A body floats in the water while a man in a wolf mask trudges through the shallow end of the pool.
I grip the knife tighter in my hand and meet the man at the end of the pool as he walks up the steps leading out of the water.
Can’t see his face. Can’t see his eyes. I’m not even sure if he realizes I’m standing there before I plunge the knife into his stomach.
He stumbles forward, his head collapsing against my shoulder as he lets out a blood-curdling scream.
I whisper softly in his ear, “It’s alright. I got you.”
He leans upward, the metal wolf mask staring straight at me.
I rip the knife from his gut and kick him right where I stabbed him.
He collapses backward into the water, arms stretched out wide as he floats on the surface.
A red cloud swirls in the surrounding water.
I step into the pool. The water is ankle-deep at first and then deeper.
He groans as he floats slowly away, and when I plunge the knife into his chest, his body folds at both ends, splashing in the water.
The sound of gargling pool water and blood underneath his mask is cathartic.
The third or fourth stab breaks me completely as my cock throbs one last time, releasing a stream of cum under the surface, mixing with the blood-stained water.
I let out an exhausted scream that comes out more like a cry than anything else.
And that’s when I realize that Forest is still floating face down. I trudge forward, the water splashing over my face. I turn him over on his back, drag him to the edge of the pool, and pull him onto the deck.
I apply pressure to the side of his throat, finding a quiet pulse.
“Ten fucking years,” I whisper, pinching the bridge of his nose and prying his mouth open. I lower my mouth against his, the taste of chlorine tingling at the back of my throat.
I breathe life back into him, one exhale at a time.
His eyes flash open as he coughs up a geyser of water. He cocks his head to the side, spitting onto the deck. When he looks back at me, he stills himself there. Eyes that don’t move as he comes back to life. He reaches up, cradling a hand on the back of my head.
And I swear I’m not looking at Forest ten years later.
I swear I’m looking at Forest ten years ago.
My lips tremble as I lower my mouth against his, and I don’t know what I’m expecting. It certainly isn’t him letting me kiss him, but that’s what happens. Soft, gentle. A brush of our lips. Nothing more. Nothing less.
His gaze shifts to the pool and widens. He presses a hand against my chest, pushing me up onto my knees. “Well, he looks dead.”
“Yeah.” I cock a half-worn grin. “I think I got a little carried away.”
He sits up and shakes his head. “Not at all.”
I press a hand over his cheek and thumb over his bottom lip. “I thought I lost you.”
He grits his teeth, grimaces, sighs like he can’t believe the words that are about to come out of his mouth. “Do you really think the Wilds would let me go out like that? By some idiot in a wolf mask?”
I force a smile, unsure if he’s being sarcastic or if he’s starting to believe again. I stand up and lower my hand to assist him in rising to his feet. He stands at the edge of the pool as I jump back in, wading in the waist-deep water.
I don’t yet know what we’ll do with the body, but he will not find absolution with a proper ceremony.
His head could end up on a pike, warning others of their fate if they should violate the code of the Wilds.
He could be dropped off somewhere in the wilderness, never to be found.
Before any of that happens, I have to know who it is.
I pull back his hood, grab onto his mask and pull it off his face.
“Who the fuck is that?” Forest asks.
“I have never seen him before.” I turn to him with a shrug and get lost in the work of art that is Forest Wilde standing there in soaked white briefs, showing off every bit of him. His eyes tighten at the corners as he takes a slow step forward.
“Are you sure?” Forest’s eyes dance between the lifeless man and me. “Don’t you think—”
I look at the man again and yep… This is not fucking good.
I finish Forest’s sentence, “That it’s kind of like I’m looking in a mirror?”
He’s about as tall as me, but with a thinner frame.
But his eyes are just like mine. His jaw has the same angular structure and his nose flares at the tip, too.
Filo always said the day would come when we would have to battle a version of ourselves for our rightful place in the kingdom of the Wilds.
That day has come.
Forest doesn’t seem to agree. He folds his arms over each other and sighs. “I think we need to go find my father.”
“Shit!” I gasp, jump out of the pool and run barefoot through the broken glass.
I’m pretty sure Forest follows me, but I can’t be too certain. There’s not enough time to check. I dash up the stairs, the blunt force of my steps pounding shards of glass deeper into my foot. When I reach the landing, I take a sharp left and come to a stumbling halt at the last door down the hall.
It’s cracked open.
Dread sinks into my gut, steadying me in place as I push gently against the door. It creaks open, the moonlight falling upon Filo’s body.
Filo’s dead body.
Three knives are stabbed through a piece of paper on his bloody chest. Each knife pierces through a separate symbol—a wolf, a raven, and a fish.
Written underneath the three symbols—THE WILDS LIE.