Chapter Eighteen – Osric
Chapter Eighteen
Osric
While the women are upstairs washing up, I walk back out along the road to fetch the car. I drive it home, park it below the terrace, carry the bags inside, and leave them at their doors.
Then I shut myself in my room and slide the bolt into place.
I pace until my legs ache. The heat starts at the base of my spine and climbs, filling my chest, slithering into my jaw, the space behind my eyes, until my body and my brain feel like they’re on fire. I can’t silence the clicking anymore. I’ve given up trying.
I’m hard, my cock straining against the front of my pants and weeping through the cloth.
I know I can get no release from my own hand, so I don’t even try.
My tail has curled up over my shoulder on its own, stinger raised, and venom gathers at the tip and falls in slow drops I don’t wipe away because there’s no point.
My stomach aches with hunger. I’ve kept myself starving on purpose, but not even that is helping. Lack of food certainly didn’t stop me from chasing Esme when she ran. It’s just another inconvenience I have to deal with.
I can smell her through the walls. She’s in her room down the hall, and I can smell soap and warm, sweaty skin.
My chest rises and falls rapidly. I drag my breath in through my mouth, but it makes little difference.
I could find her with my eyes shut, and that’s why it’s important that I stay locked until…
Until what? She said she doesn’t want to leave.
All I want is Esme. I want to find her and tell her to run. The thought nearly breaks me.
I go down to my knees and drive my fists into the floor.
The sound that tears out of me is a mixture of pain and fury.
I hate myself. I hate my body and my biology.
I hate that I finally found my mate, and the only thing I can offer her is danger.
Maybe even death. She deserves better. She deserves to not be prey.
There’s a soft knock on the door.
“Osric.”
The clicking surges at the sound of her voice.
“Darina was worn out,” she says through the door. “She’s gone to bed. It’s just you and me now. Let me in.”
“No.” The word comes out rough, half buried under the clicking. “Go away, Esme.”
The handle rattles. She tries it twice, then lets it go.
“You locked yourself up again.”
“Please go back to your room.”
“No.”
I hear her shoes scuff the stone outside the door.
“I want this,” she says. “I want you, Osric. I’m not afraid.”
“You should be. You’ve seen what I’ve become.”
“I’ve seen you starve yourself to keep me safe. That’s what I’ve seen.” Her voice stays level. “When you claim me, when you sting me, I’m not going to die. We’re fated mates. I feel it. I can’t prove it to you, and I don’t care. Because I feel it in my heart.”
Her words make the heat worse. That’s the cruelty of it. I have no answer for her certainty, because I want to believe her so badly that I can barely stay upright. Believing her would be easy for me. It could also kill her.
“What if it goes wrong?” I ask.
“Then I’ll die from a choice I made myself, with my eyes open. Do you understand what that’s worth to me? It’s not called freedom if you don’t suffer the consequences of it.”
“That’s not a reason to die.”
“It won’t happen, anyway. We’re probably worrying for nothing.”
I press my fists harder into the floor. She hasn’t changed since the auction hall, where she dropped her own price to get what she wanted, and I love her for it. Her stubbornness is going to get her killed.
“You don’t know what you’re asking from me,” I say.
“Then tell me.”
“Once it begins, I won’t be able to stop.
Do you understand? If you change your mind in the middle of the hunt, if the fear wins, if you decide it was all a mistake, it won’t matter.
I’ll run you down, I’ll pin you to the ground, and I’ll rip your clothes off your body.
If you scream, I won’t even hear it. I’ll thrust inside you, I’ll sting you, and I’ll fuck you whether you want me to or not.
” My voice drops until the clicking almost covers it.
“That’s what you’re asking for. If you change your mind and I take you anyway, then I’ll have taken a woman against her will.
I’d rather go feral. I’d rather be put down. ”
She goes quiet. I can only hear her breathing coming fast, as if she were in a panic.
“I won’t change my mind,” she says.
“Esme…”
“That was my first kiss.”
Her words halt whatever I was going to say.
“No one ever kissed me before you. Men looked at me my whole life, talked about me, and bargained over me. Not one of them ever made me want anything. I thought that part of me didn’t exist. Then I kissed you, you kissed me back, and it woke something in me.
I never thought I’d want a man, and now I want you so badly it scares me.
It scares me, and it makes me feel alive.
It’s intoxicating, Osric. It’s addictive. I want more.”
The heat in her voice seeps through the thick wood of the door. She’s not just a brave woman who’s made a decision; she’s a woman in lust. She wants me.
I feel guilty that her first kiss was with someone who will likely be the death of her, but proud at the same time. It’s special to be someone’s first. It makes me want her harder.
I get to my feet, cross the room, and press my palm against the door. The wood is cool under my hand. On the other side of it, close enough that I can hear every breath she takes, my mate is waiting for my answer.
“You’re clicking,” she says.
“I can’t hide it anymore. There’s no strength left in me for that.”
“Good,” she says. “I don’t want you to hide anything from me again.”
“Do you mean it?” I ask. “Don’t answer fast. Think, and then tell me. Are you sure?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in it. “I’m a maiden, Osric. I want you to be my first.” She takes a breath. “And my last. I want you to claim me.”
At her words, I can’t hold back anymore. I slide the bolt and open the door.
Esme stands in the hallway, breathing hard. The flush starts at her throat and climbs all the way to her cheeks. She’s put on a fresh dress, her hair hangs loose over her shoulders, and she’s wearing plain, sturdy shoes. She’s thought about this. She’s ready to run.
I know what she sees as she looks at me: the black of my eyes, my tail curled high over my shoulder with venom running off the raised stinger, and the wet stain at the front of my pants where my cock strains against the fabric. She takes all of it in, and she doesn’t step back.
There’s terror in her expression, but determination too. Anticipation. A shiver runs through her. The clicking fills the space between us, rising and falling with my breath. Under the soap and the scent of her skin, I can smell how wet she is, sweet and unmistakable.
I stare into her eyes.
“Run.”