Chapter 4 #2
Ivy screamed. The pollen surged through her, molten and all-consuming. The vines pulsed with each wave of pleasure, and Ivy found herself wishing that Vale would cover them with his body, holding her down properly.
Gradually, the pleasure faded enough for Ivy to pry her teary eyes open.
Vale was sitting on his haunches like a dog. His mouth was open, his tongue hanging out as he panted. Then he caught her looking, and his jaw snapped shut, that gorgeous tongue vanishing inside it.
“The pollen,” Vale panted, more growl than voice. “Is it gone?”
Ivy pushed her dress down, considering. She was sweating, but it didn’t feel feverish like it had before. The desperation was gone. So was the pain. She was dazed and exhausted and still partly expecting to get eaten, but her mind was her own again. No pollen. No emotions that didn’t belong to her.
“‘S gone,” Ivy slurred. She cleared her throat, trying to sit up. The vines tugged on her wrists.
“Oh,” Ivy said. “Sorry.”
“Do not be,” Vale said, sounding annoyed. He stood, brushing off his robes. “It is not you.”
With that, the vines retreated. Ivy held up her hands to see a faint red mark around her wrists. Her ankles were also marked, and Ivy felt oddly sad knowing they would fade soon.
She rubbed her wrist cautiously. “That… wasn’t you?”
“No,” Vale said after a moment. “It was the void.”
“The void,” Ivy repeated, Vale’s words from before running through her head: the void is attempting to communicate.
Ivy gasped. “That’s what’s talking to me? The void?”
“The void would not talk to you,” Vale said gruffly. “You are new. And mortal.”
He said the word with faint disgust. But mostly confusion, as if he was just as baffled as Ivy.
He stared down at the vines that had been holding her down. They were creeping around the nest, Ivy realized with a shock. Like they were waiting to slide back and restrain her again.
“You said it spoke to you,” Vale said. “What did it say?”
“It didn’t speak. It just…” Ivy straightened her red braid with shaky hands. It was a frizzy mess; she would have to rebraid it later. “It was happy. So happy. And…”
She frowned, trying to sift through the hazy memories of her orgasm. There was a moment near the end, so brief she thought she might have imagined it. Even now, it only became clear when she focused. There was something bittersweet under the joy it had shown her.
“It misses you,” Ivy realized.
Vale growled louder, the surrounding trees vibrating with the force of it. “I have been here always.”
“I’m sorry,” Ivy said again, rushed. She bowed her head, but it was difficult to be too frightened. Not with those borrowed emotions echoing through her, as if the connection was still there.
“You used to be content,” Ivy said, the words flowing out of her before she could stop them. “You used to love tending to your void. Now it’s a chore.”
Vale didn’t snarl, like Ivy was expecting. He didn’t even move. He just stood there, towering over her in a way that should have made her shrink back in terror.
Ivy squirmed, reaching for that strange connection that had given her those words. But it had already faded, just like before. Now all she had were her own thoughts, which were all screaming at her to grovel or run.
Grovel, she decided. Definitely grovel. Running wouldn’t help. She was in his void, after all. Even if she suspected it wouldn’t hurt her, he still could.
But before she could apologize again, Vale turned abruptly.
“I will find the meaning behind this mistaken connection,” he spat. “And I will sever it. Do not leave my nest.”
With that, he vanished into the otherworldly forest. Ivy watched him go, still breathless. She couldn’t help but feel like she had done something wrong.
“But I can help,” she called through the trees.
No response. Ivy smoothed her sticky dress over her legs, shivering as she felt the combination of her own slick mixing with his Skullstalker drool. Her hand strayed down toward her ankle.
The marks were already fading. Ivy wished she could be sad about it again. But now all she could think of was the chains awaiting Vale when her uncle dragged him out of this void, weak from the poison she had dripped into the silver pool.
For the first time, Ivy wondered what would happen after the Circle of the Jeweled Fist overthrew the castle.
Would they let the Skullstalker—would they let Vale—go?
Or would they keep him hidden away, captive and controlled?
She never spared it much thought until she met him.
Everybody said he would be an evil beast. Not this gruff creature who once loved his void so much that it loved him back.
Something brushed her reddened wrist. Ivy yelped, looking over to see yet another vine. It didn’t grab her this time. It just nudged her, then retreated.
“What?” Ivy asked shakily. “What do you want?”
The vine nudged her again, then retreated. Behind it, the foliage parted to form a path.
Ivy curled her arms nervously around her knees. “But he said to stay here! I’ve already gotten myself into enough trouble for one day.”
Another nudge. This one was in her head, coaxing and gentle.
Come, it whispered. You will not displease him.
Ivy twisted to stare into the woods where Vale had disappeared. Then back to the path the void had made for her.
Another nudge. You said you wished to help.
Ivy stared into the woods for a moment longer. When no angry Skullstalker came charging out to roar at her, Ivy took a deep breath and climbed cautiously out of the nest.