Chapter 14
Fourteen
Avery
Rain battered the two of them as they left the confines of the campus and walked into the forest of Caerwyn.
Felix couldn’t hide the scowl on his face even in cat form.
Serves him right. The rain didn’t bother Avery; she enjoyed it on most occasions, albeit tonight it was like frigid bullets as it whipped past them, like the sky was angry at them.
It very well could be. She wasn’t convinced that it was the goddess who had handed this riddle to her, but it was the only theory she had to go off.
When they were deep enough in the forest, Felix shifted out of his cat form. Wet hair clung to his face, and even the fluff on his ears looked sad and soggy. Avery almost felt bad for him. Almost.
At just past midnight, they reached the tree in question.
Crooked branches twisted high into the sky, further than the eye could see.
The oak tree swayed in the wind, its orange leaves clinging on until it got cold enough to shed.
Avery almost wished she could do that. Shed herself every year.
But all her leaves stuck to her, every evergreen failure, every joy refusing to fall from her tree.
The wind rustled the trees, sending scents of mossy wood that seemed much stronger than they were before. Her nose wrinkled. There was an undertone of something else, something that almost reminded her of when magic was cast.
“Now what?” Felix asked, his soggy ears twitching.
The rain had died down enough so Avery could safely pull out the book, her fingers shaking from the cold as she opened her phone for a flashlight.
She repeated the riddle out loud in the old language. Her pronunciation was still atrocious, but she tried.
Nothing happened. Not even a leaf fell.
The silence mocked her. What was she expecting? Fireworks congratulating her for getting it right? Anything to confirm her theory would have been preferable to the deafening silence. Maybe she had gotten it wrong.
They waited in the cold until Avery’s teeth started to chatter.
“Stop that,” Felix snapped.
“I can’t help it, I’m freezing,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. That did absolutely nothing to ward off the chill. It was so cold she could dial a rotary phone with her nipples.
Felix only rolled his eyes and sent his shadows to her.
She froze like a deer in headlights, thinking he was about to strangle her again.
But instead, the shadows knitted until they formed a sweater.
A strange, shadowy, moving sweater that felt like silk.
No wonder he made his clothes out of this stuff; it was fucking comfy, no overstimulating fibers in sight.
To his credit, it helped the bite of the cold.
It was a bit sad to say it was the nicest thing someone had done for her in a while.
“Thank you,” she said, her teeth chattering significantly less.
The more they waited, though, the more the shadows decided to start copping a feel, tendrils sliding and circling her breasts. Was he doing this on purpose? She stifled a moan. She never thought she would have to worry about a pervy shadow sweater, but here she was.
When the cold started to bite again, despite the sweater, she admitted defeat. This obviously wasn’t the answer. It hurt her ego more than she cared to admit. She never got a riddle wrong.
Then, only a few steps away from the tree, they heard it.
A cackling sound sliced through the branches.
They stopped in their tracks, slowly turning to face the noise.
“Felix?” Avery asked, still trembling.
“I see it, witch.”
They stared at the face now carved out of the wood of the trunk. A young woman with flowing hair of bark stared them down.
“Come closer,” the voice hissed.
Avery went to take a step forward before Felix shot his arm out, gripped her wrist, and pulled her behind him, putting himself between the talking tree and her.
“What are you doing?” Avery whispered.
“Not walking blind into something that could be dangerous,” he snapped back.
Avery hadn’t even thought of it being a trap, too preoccupied with solving the riddle. The real puzzle was why he’d saved her.
“I don’t bite,” the tree crooned at them. To be fair to Felix, it absolutely sounded like the kind of voice that would bite.
Felix could have let go of her wrist by now, but for some reason, his touch lingered.
The heat of his fingers wrapping around her cold wrist was a comfort she hadn’t expected.
It felt nice to be protected. His broad shoulders obscured her vision of the tree.
Absentmindedly, she snuggled into his back, a solid wall of him.
The tree’s mouth stretched into a smile, splitting the bark like a pair of wooden chapped lips. Avery didn’t like the sight of it at all.
“You have done well to answer my riddle,” the tree said, its voice otherworldly.
“Who are you?” Avery demanded in a small voice.
Felix’s fingers tightened even more, warning her off saying anything further.
“Never mind that,” the tree said. But Avery minded it very much. Was it the goddess? Had she heard Avery call her a bitch in her head? Fuck.
“To get what you seek”—the tree’s wooden eyes gleamed with mischief—“a kiss must be freely given, and the tree a witness to your bond.”
Felix stiffened beside her.
“Absolutely not,” Felix said.
“No!” Avery snapped out of her shock. They looked at each other, then back to the tree. “There must be something else we can do.”
The tree shook its head, a few leaves falling off its branches to the ground. “I’m afraid not. The tree wants what the tree wants.” It let out a mournful sigh, as if the pair had made it sad. Why did it want them to kiss? That seemed like the very opposite of breaking the bond.
Felix finally let go of her. Her hand dropped, immediately missing the contact as soon as it left. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Avery couldn’t help but notice the way they strained against his shadowy T-shirt. As far as shifters went, he wasn’t terrible-looking.
She supposed a kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially if the goddess or some other strange entity that had taken over this tree wanted it—then it had to mean something, right? She couldn’t tell if it was her horny prehistoric brain doing the rationalizing.
“We’re not doing that.” His tail swished once before it curled itself around her leg. Felix didn’t notice, but the tree’s eyes fell toward the movement, and then back up, its smile creaking wider.
“I don’t take orders from a talking tree,” he said.
“If you do not kiss, then you will stay as you are, stagnant, and possibly six feet under, who’s to say?” the tree said.
Felix growled, the rumble in his chest vibrating against her chest, as his cat ears flattened against his head. “Are you threatening us?”
The tree made a roaring laugh. “It is up to you to determine your fate, shifter. I am merely the messenger.”
Felix’s jaw set hard, lost in thought. He wasn’t seriously considering this, was he? Warmth crept up Avery’s neck, replacing the gnawing cold along with a knot twisting in her stomach that wound tighter with each passing second.
“Fine.” He turned toward Avery, and she did everything in her power not to let out a squeal. She felt like a wounded deer, stalked by a hunter when his mismatched eyes looked into her own. This was not happening. She wasn’t about to kiss a shifter because a tree told her to? Was she?
“Let’s get this over with,” he bit out.
She was.
Her mouth said something different, though. “What? No—”
“Would you rather stay bonded forever, witch?” His voice was strained. Like he was holding back.
Avery swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly in dire need of a jug of water. She had doubts that something as simple as a kiss beneath a tree would break the bond. It was worth a try.
“I suppose not.”
It wasn’t like she hadn’t been kissed before, or done much more filthy things than that. But for some reason, being in front of the shifter made her feel entirely inexperienced. It occurred to her she didn’t even know how old he was. He didn’t look younger than her, and he certainly wasn’t graying.
“How old are you?” she blurted out awkwardly.
The question took him back for a second. “Thirty.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief, as if somehow that made kissing him any better.
They stood there only for a moment, looking at each other.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle, droplets catching along Felix’s dark hair, one particularly stubborn drop falling on his long eyelashes.
His eyes suddenly formed into slits, making him look more catlike than ever before.
His gaze dropped to her lips, his ears standing at full attention toward her.
Avery felt her heart skip.
Slowly, gently, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. It was a ghost of when they had first met, yet the first time had been much more violent.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said. His voice was a steadying beat amidst the wind that seemed to intensify by the second. The scent of him surrounded her, calming her frenzied heart more than it should.
“Obviously,” she choked out.
Felix leaned in, hesitating. His warm breath fanned her face, thawing the frigid skin. His lips were only inches away. Avery squirmed, trying to keep her arms by her side.
“Stay still, witch,” he quietly commanded.
“Do you think we shoul—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence.
Felix’s lips crashed into hers. Not gently, but fervently, as if he had been waiting for this.
Heat rushed through her veins like a wildfire, threatening to consume her at this very moment.
At first, she froze, like she had forgotten how to kiss, her mind short-circuiting at the delicious feel of his satin lips asking for entry into hers.
She parted her lips for him. The bond flared to life between them like a dormant volcano.
Felix’s hand slipped from her chin to wrap around her neck, pulling her in closer but not close enough that their bodies met.
Her hands stayed by her side, still obeying his command even when her body begged her not to.
They were simply useless as she lost herself between his lips.
She didn’t care at that moment that they were being watched by a tree with a face, or that he was a shifter.
She cared only about the sweet pressure that made her dizzy.
His mouth was like a drug, only one taste, and she was addicted. Those humans were onto something.
A noise escaped her, one that only encouraged the ravenous beast within him further, because he pulled away for only a second just to sweep his tongue across her bottom lip, his fangs grazing them ever so slightly, sending delicious shivers down her body, and something clenching deep within her.
They should have stopped there. Felix’s tail wrapped around her bare leg again, the sensation pulling a hitching breath from her mouth, which Felix swallowed with his own.
She felt him everywhere, not just physically, but deep within her, their emotions demanding that they collide together.
Fear, frustration, need. The bond wanted it all.
It wanted to be greedy. It wanted to devour.
Against her better judgment, she let a hand loose, let it explore where it wanted to. Hesitant, she touched his chest, wanting to feel more of him than just his lips.
Felix jumped back. The cold rushed between them like an avalanche as Avery forgot how to breathe. Felix’s shoulders moved up and down, his nostrils flared, pupils dilated so much that his eyes appeared black.
Avery gasped as her hand went to touch her swollen lips, the flesh still tender.
The sound of wood creaking brought her out of her trance, one she wasn’t ready to leave. Two branches came together to clap, the leaves creating an orange rain.
“Good, good!” The tree looked delighted. Felix, however, did not. “There is a key high in my canopy. Retrieve it for the next clue.”
“Was the key up there the whole time?” Felix questioned, his tail swishing violently, something Avery noticed he did when he was more than irritated.
“Perhaps,” the tree admitted.
Felix rolled his eyes before turning back to Avery. “I will get the key. Can you look out for me?”
Avery was still too stunned to speak, her fingers lightly feathering her lips.
It was the best kiss she had ever had, and it wasn’t even real.
Well, it was real, far too real. But it had been because a talking tree had asked them to do it.
What she should have felt was disgust. Regret.
Anything but the burning desire to do it again.
“Witch,” Felix snapped at her.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, Avery swore his softened the moment her eyes met his.
“Mmhmm!”
Felix lingered on her for a moment, his eyes darting to her swollen lips, sending another fresh wave of fire coursing through her. Was this the bond’s doing? Or her? She supposed it didn’t matter. Regardless of where it came from, it was still there.
With surprising grace, Felix shifted into his cat form and leapt onto the tree, digging his nails into the bark to climb higher and higher. The tree winced slightly as its gaze traveled up with him.
He leapt from branch to branch, until it was almost impossible to see his small form bleeding into the night. A spectral shadow retrieved a golden key, blended amongst the hues of pale orange.
A smile played on Avery’s lips. She had been right. The riddle had meant something; it was leading them somewhere. Down what path she had no idea.
“If we solve the riddles, will you unbond us?” she asked the tree.
The tree pondered her question for a moment, looking up to the shifter and then back down to her. “Sure.” It dragged out the ‘e,’ as if it were actually completely unsure. “As the riddle said, if it is freedom you seek…”
She could have sworn the damn cryptic tree was glaring right back at her.
Felix’s voice rang through her mind, interrupting their staring contest. “Witch?”
She hated that he kept calling her that. She had a name.
What sounded like a pitiful meow made its way down the tree. “I can’t get down.”