Chapter 22
Kai
DANCING SHADOWS
This place is heaven for any scientist. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting dancing shadows across a mess of action figures and, of course, a well-worn copy of Dune within reach.
“Next patrol, we need to stop at a bookstore. You’re running low if you’re reading Dune again,” Wyll says, eyeing the novel like it’s poison. “That book is so boring.”
“You’re boring for not appreciating a classic,” Caleb bites back without missing a beat.
“The Lord of the Rings is a classic. Your book is just about sand,” Wyll grins, clearly enjoying this ritual of jabs.
“Obviously, we didn’t read the same book,” Caleb snaps, still digging through his drawers. After a moment, he pulls out something that looks like a watch and tosses it my way. I catch it, flipping it on just like he showed us.
“Speaking of books... You got an e-reader, Cal?” Suddenly remembering that I could use some of his gizmos.
“I do. I reproduced the same electromagnetic tech that I used for our bikes, but made it smaller.”
“Could I get one?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He’s got my attention now.
“Yeah, sure. You know me, once something works, I gotta make duplicates.” He says as he searches through the knick-knacks in his desk drawer.
“Thanks, man.”
“But what’s it for? You don’t read,” Caleb shoots back, a little too curious.
“Yeah, you don’t read!” Wyll chimes in. The only time those two agree on something. I roll my eyes and head straight for the door, after grabbing the small chip Caleb finally found.
“Not important. See you tonight for patrol.”
We’re on night patrol in the village, so I don’t have that much time to unwind. But honestly, I’m not even thinking about that. My feet carry me straight to Avilyna’s room. Her door’s unwarded, again. That damn girl will never learn.
I ease the door open and shut it quietly behind me. Her reading device sits on the nightstand. After installing Caleb’s invention, I switch it on and hit start. She didn’t try to use it; if she had, the wire would’ve fried.
The e-reader lights up, opening right in the middle of a page.
“I swallow, my body tight with anticipation, but he moves my hand to my pussy, telling me to prime myself.
I rub my clit in soft, slow circles as pleasure leisurely unfurls deep within my core with each brush of my hand. Felix palms my tits as I continue to play with myself, his eyes drinking in my building desire. And as if sensing what I need, Charles’ finger sinks inside me.
Slowly, I relax.
And after a couple of minutes, I start backing up into it, my orgasm building again. His finger feels good as it plunges in and out of my pussy, the sound of my arousal evident.
I know what I’m doing should make me feel bad, but I can’t when it all feels so right.”
“What a naughty little terror,” I mutter to myself, unable to stop the words from slipping out.
Avilyna’s taste in reading?
Well, it’s simply wickedly delicious. The temptation to grab that e-reader and dive into whatever secrets are hiding is eating at me. But I’d rather hear those secrets spill straight from her pretty mouth.
As I pass her chair, I catch sight of her favourite oversized T-shirt, the one I’ve seen her wear every morning at breakfast. Soft, well-worn and smelling of her. An idea forms in my mind. Without thinking, I toss mine aside and pull hers on. It fits me perfectly.
And holy shit.
Any sense of gravity disappears. I’m gone, lost in the ecstasy of her. Her scent hits me, overwhelming and all-consuming.
Fuck.
This isn’t normal. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears, faster than it should be. Damn it, I need to get a grip. Still, I leave my shirt behind.
I slip out of her room as quietly as I can.
My footsteps quicken down the back hallway, two at a time.
I’m already mad at myself for letting my weakness slip.
The moment I hit the back door, I go straight to my room.
Quickly pulling the shirt over my head, inhaling it deeply before throwing it on my bed. I walk straight to the balcony.
Whispering “Sgot”, the ward activates, keeping intruders out.
I leap and change mid-air. The world tilts, bones break and reform, skin gives way to fur, muscle pulls tight, expanding, shifting.
The pain is sharp, clean, familiar. My senses flare to life; smell, sound, the wind itself feels electric against me.
I land on four legs. A growl rumbles in my throat.
Then I run. The night swallows me as I tear through the trees.
Dirt flies under my paws, leaves whip past my face.
The cool earth is a blur beneath me, the forest closing in around my path, guiding me.
The rhythm of the run steadies me. Stride, breath, pulse, I need this.
So I go faster, pushing harder, each bound erasing the heat of her touch, the weight of what I almost let happen. My mind is in chaos.
Eventually, the forest parts. There, hidden beneath a curtain of trees and rocks, the spring steams quietly. My safe haven, my secret.
The place Sammy and I used to run to, to hide when it was too much at home. A place mom brought us the first time dad lifted a hand at her, before she realized it would become her storyline. The warm water shimmers, untouched and waiting. A place where no one expects anything from me.
No eyes.
No voices.
Just silence and peace. I regain my human form and step in slowly, the warmth climbing up my legs, easing into my muscles. My breath slows. I let myself float, eyes lost in the blue sky, letting everything hit pause.
Finally, I let go.
Here, I’m not running—not hiding, just… being me, Kai.
Once my skin has taken on the texture of a rotten fruit, soft and wrinkled from the heat, I pull myself out of the pool.
Steam clings to me as I walk toward the far corner where I know a small cave entrance waits, hidden in the shadow.
Inside, I find what I always leave behind: an old pair of pants and my art supplies.
The cave smells of damp earth and drying paint; it’s familiar.
Safe.
There’s still time before patrol.
Even after all the years I've spent trying to kill this part of me, trying to bury it deep beneath duty and instinct.
I can never fully let it go. I dip the brush in the pigment.
My hand moving without thought, guided by something older.
Muscle memory takes over, and I strike the canvas again and again.
Until the weight inside me spills out in colour and form.
Until my demons are laid bare.
Until my soul sings its song.
We reached the first village about fifteen minutes after leaving the manor. The only sound is the steady click-clack of horses’ hooves on cobblestone.
We don’t take the bikes out for patrols. Unless we glamor them, they’re loud as hell and kill any shot at sneaking up on something. Also, it’s forbidden, and these old streets weren’t exactly built with mundane tech in mind.
It’s dinner time, with the scent of roasted lamb, melted butter, and honey lingering in the air.
The only warmth the autumn night receives.
Quiet, still, as if the whole village is holding its breath over overcooked vegetables.
Kallahanians love their family dinners, call it tradition.
And that’s just one more reason why I can’t stand traditions.
The only family dinners I ever knew were the royal ones.
Big table, stiff conversation, too many forks. And my dad?
Always too busy saving the world or swinging a sword to sit down with his wife and two sons. Those dinners... They mattered, but not because of him, because of mom. Her laugh was… Hell, it was home.
So Sammy and I pulled every dumb stunt we could think of just to hear it. Just to make her forget for a minute that the man she married was a cold, violent bastard. Even before the war, I could tell something was off. Something was hiding in the quiet stare, the pursed of his lips, waiting.
I saw the red marks on her arms. The bruises on her wrists. Sometimes her lip was split, and she couldn’t go to court because she wasn’t presentable. And for that, she also got punished, because apparently, it made him look bad.
Yeah, real honourable.
I take a slow pull from my flask to quell the shadows crawling out of the corners of my mind.
That's the last thing I need tonight. I’m not in the mood to fight ghosts I already know too damn well.
Wyll passes around a joint, trying to lighten the mood as we sit and watch, keeping the village safe from the things that creep in the night.
Perks of being in the Legion, we get free stuff now and then.
Sometimes it’s food, sometimes knick-knacks.
Hell, once we got a real-life goat from an old lady with no teeth, preaching about the milk benefits.
Wyll got attached to the animal really fast, but unfortunately, given the amount of free time we had, he realized it wasn’t worth the latrine duties it came with.
So, we’re not surprised when this young girl walks up with a basket in her arms, eyes wide as if we’re heroes from some bedtime story.
“Thank you for your service,” she says, handing it off to Caleb. He pulls his black mask down just enough to flash her a smile. That’s all it takes for her to turn three shades red and scurries back to her family.
Wyll smirks, clapping him on the back. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”
“Get off me and stop stealing my snacks! It’s my basket!”
I swear, those two act like they’re still fourteen. I sigh, exhaling deeply as I grab Wyll by the collar and pull him back before it turns into a full-on food fight.
“What? I’m patrolling too. I deserve some muffins.”
“Come on,” I sigh, “just give him one.”
“One?” Wyll scoffs like I just insulted his honour. “I’m a growing man, I need at least three.” Caleb and I both shoot him the same deadpan look. He throws his hands up.
“Alright, fine. I’ll be happy with two.” I roll my eyes and toss him two muffins and then grab one for myself, because why not?
We get moving again and do our rounds. When we finally make it back to the manor, I tell the guys, “We should check our bikes.”
Caleb raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Call it a hunch. Feels like we’re gonna need 'em real soon.” Last time we patrolled the Mundane World, I ended up with Avilyna under my charge and a damn horde of norous at our feet. We barely made it out in one piece.
The demons are getting bolder, showing up more often, hungrier. That’s never a good sign. Something’s shifting out there, I can feel it in the air.
Hell, I can taste it.