Chapter 29 #2
The garden was nothing spectacular—everything was squarish. But the castle was surrounded by a small body of water with a family of ducks floating in it. There were even lily pads. This moat was mildly impressive, if she cared. “I don’t. Why’d you bring me here?”
“You’re not answering my calls. Or anyone else’s. What the fuck, Winter? Tarik’s pissed. He said if I don’t find you, I die.”
She groaned and folded her strange arms. Before she could tell Cole to tell Tarik to mind his own fucking business, raptor noises stole her attention. She looked up to see a winged creature flapping their way and breathing fire.
Seriously?
“Oh, shit. Can you hold on?” Cole shot her an apologetic look before hurdling towards the castle, gesturing for the guards to let down the drawbridge. He leapt across wooden planks and disappeared inside. Was he really leaving her to fend for herself?
Winter eyed the bearded beast covered in gleaming green and gold pixels. Was that a dragon?
Great.
The world vibrated as it neared. Its eyes glowed red, and smoke escaped its nostrils in massive plumes. The name of Cole’s game was beginning to make more sense. As flames streamed from the dragon’s mouth, she awaited her burning end.
Then Cole reappeared. He sprinted across the bridge, moving so fast he blurred. A shiny green rope moved with him. It formed a circle, dancing in the sky above his head.
A lasso? Of all weapons he could wield in this new world, he chose a revolving rope? Maybe they were more alike than she thought. Winter, too, enjoyed wrangling the occasional beast in this manner.
She refocused on the imminent threat.
Cole, the fearless knight, captured the dragon mid-flight, forcing it to the ground.
It didn’t land until several guards helped him pull on the rope.
From there, it was subdued and tied down with more ropes.
The guards stayed clear of its fire-breathing face as they trapped its twisty neck between two gigantic posts.
They did the same with its barbed tail, and finished off by tying up the feet.
“Don’t kill it!” she shouted, unsure why she cared about his make-believe monster.
Her brother scurried back over. “I’m not. It’s your gift.”
“Excuse me?”
He grinned. “It’s part of the game. I should’ve coded a different outfit for you to wear. Every princess gets a dragon. If we don’t capture it for you, it’ll burn my kingdom down.”
Winter pursed her lips. “Brilliant.”
He puffed his steel chest. “I know.”
“Listen,” she started, “I’m sorry for ignoring you. Tell Tarik I’m fine, okay?” She hoped that would be enough.
“Are you?”
Ugh.
“Yes. I just need time. Alone. For someone who spends every day behind a screen, you should understand what I mean.”
“Ouch, Winter. Escaping is fine. Hiding isn’t.”
“I’m not hiding, I’m—” Why did everyone want to talk about feelings? And why was her body swaying so much? It wasn’t helping with her anxiety. “Why am I moving side to side like this?”
“That’s what avatars do. Come on, don’t you play any video games?”
“No.”
“Listen. There’s another reason why I called, and it’s why Tarik was so insistent I find you. You should really see something.” His voice held a dark undertone.
“See what?”
Smoke whirled around him as a wooden trunk appeared above his head. A hammer, dagger, crystal, and a bottle marked with a skull and crossbones were pictured on it. “Book,” he said. The trunk opened with a creak, immediately sending a small journal into his opened palms.
“If you have a floating treasure chest, why’d you run back to the castle for ropes?”
He waved and the entire thing disappeared.
“It’s called a loot box, and those aren’t just ropes, Winter.
They’re made from dragon scales, the only material capable of restraining one.
I don’t have them available for purchase, you have to steal them.
Hence keeping them locked in the castle.
That’s why I added the moat below and the battlements above. The more protection, the better.”
She blinked because was he fucking serious? “Never mind.”
“The moat’s nice though, right?
A duck quacked, answering over her.
He handed her the journal. “Here. You really need to read this.”
“But what is it?”
“It’s Mom’s. I wasn’t sure how else to get it to you when you’re not answering me, so I coded it into the game.”
“Mom’s what?”
“A personal journal. I found it helping her move back to the city, and I was at a loss for words. She doesn’t know I read it, took pictures of it, sent everything to Tarik and Ender in the group chat, or that I coded it in here for you.
Some entries date back to before any of us were even born.
Please, just read it. Your avatar will feed you the data if you tap the cover twice. ”
“Feed me the data?”
“When you’re in here, you’re a computer … essentially.”
O-kay. “You can’t just tell me what’s in here?”
He went silent for a beat. “I don’t know how to explain it, all I can say is that I’m really sorry.”
“What?” Winter double-tapped the brown pixels. The book opened wide, the pages flipped, then her skull popped open and ate it. Her digital self processed the information faster than she could handle.
Could avatars cry? Yes, they could. Bright blue droplets spewed from her eyes. “I’m cursed?”
“I-I don’t know what it means,” stuttered Cole. “But we want to help you figure it out.”
No. No. No. No. “Get me the fuck out of here. Now.”
“Winter, we can talk about this.”
“No.” She pulled the long sword from his belt, flipped it around, and stabbed herself in the heart. Her animated form simultaneously spurted blood and tears as she dropped to her knees. “Game over, Cole.”
Winter’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing a snow-capped forest. She was being carried like a baby by her real prince charming.
West stopped short, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”
“Now I am,” she cooed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Where are we going?” In his arms, erasing the last few minutes from her memory would be easy.
He ignored her question and glared at her. “Where’d you go?”
A cloud covered the sun, darkening Elmwood Forest. It mirrored West’s intensity. If she lied he would sense it. She had to be clever … “I must’ve fainted.”
There, that wasn’t so hard. No need to add the bit about Cole sucking her into a video game and sharing the truth about her cursed existence.
“Then I’m taking you to the farm.” West stomped onward, kicking up snow along the way. “When’s the last time you ate?”
And now she felt guilty. “I can walk.”
“Well, no. You’ve proven that you can’t.”
She used her grip around his neck to lift herself a little higher. “I can compel you to put me down.”
He smirked. “Do it.”
“Is that a dare?”
Finally. Winter wanted to play a different game with him—one he’d longed for. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but he wasn’t putting her down. “Go ahead, Winter. Make me.”
She studied him like she was reading a book. A breath later, her fingers tugged at the neckline of his cloak. “I’d prefer it if you shove me against that tree.”
“Easy.”
He moved quickly, earning him a gasp. The thud of her back against the furrowed bark shook the icicles off its crystalized branches. They rained down like tiny daggers, stabbing the earth. Winter hooked her legs around his waist with a grin.
He moved her wrists above her head, pinning them there. “Now what?”
She stared at him from beneath her long, painted lashes. “Kiss me until I bleed.”
Also easy.
However, she didn’t give him the chance. Her mouth crushed his lips like they were hers to destroy. Westley hated to admit when he was wrong, but if there was one thing Winter wanted, it wasn’t gentle.
“Fuck,” she swore over his mouth. “You taste so good.”
Thoughts about a famished Winter and upcoming battle vanished. He pressed his hips against hers, growling in answer.
She panted on his lips.
Their tongues clashed once more before he trailed downward, kissing the length of her neck. The sweater she wore was cut low enough to reveal a hint of her unmarked collarbones. It gave him just enough room to nuzzle in, and rest his teeth against her flesh.
A desperate need to claim her surged through him.
Winter moaned, tilting her head. Exposing her throat to him like this was dangerous. He slid fangs along her skin instead, resisting the urge to sink them into that precious vein.
Would Winter ever truly be his? She might be scared of him dying, but he was scared of her leaving again. This wasn’t even her time period.
Slowly, he worked his way back up to her lips, one desperate kiss at a time. Her steady whimper was making his dick throb.
When their mouths met again, she ground into his hips.
If this was her idea of patience, he could be very patient.
Keeping up with her emotions was becoming impossible.
He kissed her once, twice, three times, then pulled her lower lip into his mouth and bit down.
Having torn through so much flesh, he knew exactly how much pressure was required to pierce it.
The coppery tang of her sweet blood coated his tongue instantly.
She held him closer, her gaze smoldering. Could she feel how desperately he wanted to fuck her? Hard was an understatement—the buttons on his pants were about to pop off.
“You taste too good,” he whispered, “feel too good.” He released her wrists and gripped her by the waist.
She moaned, grinding into him. “You do.”
He countered her next thrust.
“Keep going,” she panted, digging fingers into his sides.
For a moment he wondered if this was even real. It passed. He buried his face into Winter’s neck, licked her sweet flesh, and took her for a ride. His next thrust made her choke for air. She found it just in time for the one after that.
As ordered, he didn’t stop. Her heavy breaths formed a song so sweet it was sinful. It drove him wild, almost feral.
He snarled against her skin.
“Come for me,” she urged, “I want you to come.”
Another order?
The words sent his body into overdrive—he was so close already. Pressing himself against her cunt, he kissed her bleeding mouth. The brush of his tongue against hers made his dick pulse and balls tighten. Three more thrusts and he grunted atop her lips, erupting in his pants.
The white world around him blurred.
There was only Winter.
She pressed a palm to his shoulder to make space, then glanced down between them. Her irises churned as she narrowed in on the dampened fabric between his legs. Of all the times he’d imagined having sex with her, none of them had ever been with clothes on.
He dropped his head to her chest to catch his breath. The sounds of the forest returned to one ear, her rapid heartbeats in the other.
What just happened?
This wasn’t taking things slow—she’d flipped on him.
Why?
Winter knuckled his chin. “Look at me.” Her voice was lower than usual—not the full alpha tone, but there was certainly a hint of it. He did so anyway. Her skin was flushed, her hair was tangled in tree bark, and her mouth looked abused.
He’d … ravaged her.
She used her thumb to rub and tug on his bottom lip. “Such a good boy.”
There was no chance he’d put her down now. Winter didn’t need magic to seduce him, he was perfectly bespelled without it.