Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I’ve tried. I’ve tried. I’ve tried. But love isn’t something you hold. It’s not skin against skin or eyes upon eyes. It’s a weight on the heart. Heavy and made of pure gold.
—Lorinne Leroux’s private journal.
Winter’s gilded ears were a treasure to behold in this sea of snow.
He’d made many memories in Elmwood Forest, but none would compare to running alongside his mate.
Their paws pounded the earth, sending white flecks into the air.
Sun broke through the clouds now and again, revealing the glint in her eyes.
She picked up speed as they neared the cabin. No—she was showing off. Winter was faster than him in this form, and she wasn’t holding back. After punching in the front flap with her snout, she hurried inside. He followed behind.
Natural light flooded the entryway, highlighting the photographs hanging on the cedar-lined walls. He stepped to the basket full of flannel blankets beside the coat rack, shifted back to his human form, and wrapped one around his waist.
Winter transitioned back slowly.
She stood on her hind legs and stretched her neck side-to-side. Her ears reshaped and slid into place, her shoulders unrounded, and her spine shrank. The limbs were last. Each section took about a minute, and she whined in pain the whole time.
Soon, every joint remolded and skin replaced fur. He couldn’t peel his eyes away. Soft golden-brown locks billowed over her shoulders, covering her nipples. His gaze continued south.
Where did the rest of her hair go? He’d never seen a pussy so bare before.
Her legs had been crossed in the queen’s bathing chamber, he’d tried not to watch her spinning on that forsaken slab of marble, and her recent flash at the lake had been too quick for him to notice.
If she didn’t cover herself, his mouth would.
“Here.” He reached down, grabbed a blanket, and tossed it to her.
Winter unfurled and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Thanks.”
“You’re hairless.” The words stumbled out of his mouth.
“What?”
He glanced downwards, feeling heat flood his cheeks.
Winter huffed a laugh. “Coming from the werewolf who loves to shave? How rich. Was this just an observation or is there a question?”
He clenched his teeth. “Why?”
She shifted her weight to one hip. “Why not? There are all sorts of tools in the future, including ones that zap away hair.”
“Zap?”
“Zap zap, Wolfie. It was a mortal invention—or will be. Listen, if I tell you anything else about the future, I might have to kill you myself.” She stepped closer, tilting her head. “Or is that what you want?”
He flicked his tongue over his lips, tasting the remnants of their kiss. “You’ve already done that.”
“Oh?” She closed the distance between them. “In that case, I have a better question.” She lifted to her tippy toes and whispered in his ear. “Did you ask why because you hate it or because you love it?”
He growled the answer on her neck. “Because I love it.”
“And you want to touch it?”
“Very much.” His fingers stroked her back, working their way down her spine.
“Then you’ll have to be very patient.” Before he could protest, she twirled away and headed to the staircase. “We came here for my wand, remember?”
He stood frozen thinking about how impatient he wanted to be. Was this her payback for cutting their first kiss short? When she disappeared into her room, he ran into his, locking himself inside.
Winter heard West running water in his tub, so she did the same. Cooling off and cleaning up was a good idea. They couldn’t have sex—at least, not yet. He made her feel too much. If she didn’t keep a hold of herself, she’d spin out of control.
The room she was in shared a bathroom with Mellie’s, and fortunately, his sister wasn’t here. There was enough privacy for Winter to drown in her desires alone. But first, bubbles. She used her wand to add them to the water.
Winter stepped in slowly, sat back, and sighed.
Was she terrible for wanting Everett as well? Yes. Did West know? Most likely. Warmth swelled in her core, undeterred by the cold water. Closing her eyes was all it took to envision both of them doting on her.
Her blood sang a siren’s song, lulling her fingers beneath the surface. She trailed nails down her stomach, shivering for more. Sliding between her legs was inevitable with West’s kiss lingering on her lips.
He was neither a monster, nor a saint. He was simply hers.
Fuck—she wanted more than fingers.
Winter grabbed her poor wand and recited her special spell.
The wood transformed to a familiar silicone toy, cock-shaped, full of pearly beads, and fitted with a pumping head and clitoral stimulator.
Every mage had a Masturbation Spell—they were all just a little different depending on individual tastes.
She spread her legs and rubbed the tip against her clit. Preset to ramp up speed and strength every fifteen seconds, it was already thrusting. She held back a moan and moved it lower.
It pushed inside her entrance, pumping so hard she surrendered to a daydream.
Everett filled her mouth, West slid in and out of her pussy.
She pressed her lips together trying not to whimper.
Winter had never had a threesome before, yet the mere thought was about to send her flying over the edge.
She submerged herself in the tub and refused to make a sound.
Winter, dripping wet and nude, crept through the adjoining bathroom and into Mellie’s room.
All the towels had been laundered and placed in the hall closet during her cleaning spree.
Scurrying across the stitched rug, she made her way to the dresser next to a snow-crusted window.
Mellie wouldn’t mind if she borrowed some things—right?
Her wand could conjure the illusion of clothing, but they wouldn’t protect her from the weather.
She jiggled the top drawer open.
Every item was black and rose-scented.
Winter slipped on a pair of wool pants, a camisole, and a tunic. Next she put on some extra-thick socks and spun like a ballerina into the closet. While looking for boots, she found letters instead—a shoebox full.
Winter knew it was wrong to snoop, but she opened one anyway.
My Darling Mel,
Days have fallen to weeks, and weeks to months.
I miss you.
Love,
Xavier.
That couldn’t be all? Winter, greedy for more details, refolded the letter and opened the next one.
My Darling Mel,
I hear the pups are well.
Are you?
Love,
Xavier.
Mellie had mentioned pushing Xavier away. Had he been writing to her that whole time? Winter dug through dozens of letters, noticing each one started the same way: My Darling Mel. It was sweet, and she seemed to have kept every single one.
Winter cursed as she looked around at the mess she’d made.
This was none of her business. She did her best to tidy the letters, wandless for the sake of not accidentally reducing everything to microscopic dust, and placed them back in the box.
Pushing it aside, she stepped into a pair of boots and left Mellie’s room.
As she closed the door—trapping her sins behind—West opened his.
She hadn’t expected to meet him in the hall. “Hi,” she said.
“You’re dressed.”
She eyed him up and down. “And so are you.” He’d gone with a fresh flannel shirt, thick pants, and boots so large she blinked.
“Did you find your wand?”
She quickly shoved it in her pocket. Thankfully, it wasn’t thrusting and silicone anymore. “Yeah,” she said coolly.
West hesitated as if he was about to say something then turned to walk down the staircase instead. She followed behind, pretending not to smell the arousal that trailed after him. Or was that hers?
He reached the bottom and stopped short, causing her to bump into him. Static sparked between them. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
She backed up a couple stairs and he turned to face her. Being eye-level with him made her breath hitch and stomach drop. “What is it?” she asked, white-knuckling the railing.
“Will you stay with me until the fight?” he asked, his voice soft.
The blue hue around his iris swirled, sweeping her into a revolving sea. She wanted to swim for a while, but he was waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” she exhaled.
He smiled. “Good.” His fingers found hers, squeezing them gently. “Walk with me?”
Anywhere.
One moment, Winter was trekking through Elmwood Forest, hand-in-hand with West, and in the next, she crash-landed into a pixelated realm. She looked around this strange new world, bewildered.
This was multi-colored geometry at its finest.
Lying on a patch of square-shaped grass, she looked up at the castle she’d been deposited near. A knight in full armor shuffled towards her. He moved robotically, arms included.
He approached and lifted his visor. “Sweet. It worked.”
“Cole?” It was her brother but animated. The eyebrow piercing, tousled brown hair, and dimples were unmistakable.
Winter barely found her foot before she was twirling against her will. A glittering pink gown and a floor-length braid of thick hair trailed behind her. Now she was curtsying. “Holy Hell and Tartarus.” She glared at Cole. “Am I a princess? What kind of spell is this?”
“Just a Contact Spell. But I coded and plugged it into my software. Welcome to Fortress of Fire—the game I’m developing on the side. It’s nothing special, but it’s a start.
“What’d you use as a relic? Blood and computers don’t mix well …”
“Your IP address.” Before she could ask him how, his avatar stretched his arms out wide and grinned, showing off the landscape. “How do you like it?”
The property was vast—endless even. Greens took up a solid portion, the rest was still dirt-like. It appeared like other gamers were at play. Some were shoveling dirt, others were fighting each other. Small bars hovered above their heads listing out strange stats.