Chapter 12
Jakfros
“You are not, by chance, still annoyed, are you?” I ask as I eye Shawna from across the table.
My plate is already laden with food, ready to be enjoyed, but I am just waiting for her, and she doesn’t appear to be in any great hurry to begin.
My stomach gurgles unhappily, and I give her a pitiful look that makes her lips twitch in amusement.
I know I am noticeably sulking now and even I am incredulous about it.
When have I ever cared about food so much?
Eating has always been nothing more than a matter of survival when I have required it, and I have certainly never even missed it when the other hunger overcomes me in the winter.
It seems that Shawna has changed all of that for me, and I do not know whether to be grateful that she introduced me to such pleasure or displeased at my body’s sudden addiction.
The corner of her mouth hitches, and she folds her hands beneath her chin, her elbows braced on the table, as she leans forward to smile at me. My wings—the dark gods damn them—flutter a bit apprehensively at that glittering amusement that brightens her eyes.
“Why would you think that, Jak?” she asks in a sweet, quiet voice.
I am a demon, not a fool, so I eye her cautiously, refraining from answering the first, or even the second, thing that comes to my mind.
Certainly, I am not even certain I can talk because my mouth has curiously gone dry and my tongue appears to be fastened to the roof of my mouth.
There is also a certain part of my anatomy that is responding aggressively to her playfulness.
The bells on my belt tinkle softly as I squeeze my thighs together in an effort to ease the ache in my balls and rapidly engorging phallus.
I exhale slowly in my attempt to refocus, as I have suddenly lost track of what we were talking about.
My stomach pinches again, reminding me. Oh yes.
Food. I clear my throat and decide to try for diplomatic questions rather than hissing in annoyance or attempting to charm compliance like many of my brethren might.
Truly the latter was the most frequent method employed, as hissing, while good for frightening prey into compliance, is seldom satisfactory.
But even that feels disingenuous. While I want to savor the food with her, I feel that the experience would be tainted if her true enjoyment is not considered.
“You usually enjoy our meals together,” I tactfully reply.
Her eyebrows rise, though that small half-smile does not leave her face.
“Who says I am not enjoying this?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair as I try not to pinch my tail or wings against the ridiculously tight confines of the human seat. So, this is a punishment. Perhaps she requires that I appease her in some way?
“Perhaps there is some way I can increase your pleasure?” I murmur.
Her smile slips, and she blinks at me with genuine surprise before glancing at the table with confusion. “Jak, everything is perfect as usual. With all of these dishes and a choice of desserts, I can’t even imagine a single thing that you could possibly improve upon.”
Warmth stirs in my chest at her words, and it floods through me, bringing a smile to my lips.
I examine the feelings as they rise with it.
Pleasure. Pride. Satisfaction. And just pure happiness beneath all of it.
Although my magic and preparations have often satisfied my prey as a means of lifting the quality of their energy with their merriment, their delight had never felt like a genuine compliment to me personally.
I examine the feeling closer and smile inwardly.
I truly must marvel at just how easily she can inspire such a warm feeling of happiness.
The feeling is fleeting, however, as her words do not solve the most immediate problem and they seem to belie her current lack of enjoyment in my offerings.
Perhaps the diplomatic approach is the wrong way to go. I should just be direct then.
“Then why are you not eating if not to punish me?”
She chuckles, her face relaxing. “Is that what you are worried about? That I am intentionally just sitting here to watch you squirm?”
“Yes,” I reply. She said it, not me.
Her eyes crinkle very faintly at the corners, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggle as she shakes her head in aggressive denial.
She is adorable, and I am ruled by a desire to return her smile, but I do not think that will hasten the end of whatever game she is playing.
So I settle back into the miserable chair slowly, being cautious of my wings, and frown at her skeptically. She drops her hand and smiles.
“Honestly, Jak, I didn’t think you would take it that way. I thought you were playing with me. You piled all that food on your plate and then just sat there with the expression of somewhat awaiting a performance,” she says around another giggle.
My brows rise as I stare back at her, baffled, and look back at my plate, trying to see whatever it is that she is seeing.
There does not appear to be anything amiss.
.. and yet, I must admit that it is quite unusual for me.
Even after our first meal together, I have never eagerly piled it before.
I have always waited for her to begin before eagerly scooping out the food onto my own plate. Perhaps she still misunderstands.
“Shawna, nothing has changed,” I patiently explain. “While I have perhaps not been as obvious about it while sharing meals with you because I want you to enjoy them with some sense of normality, I still depend on your enjoyment to taste any of this.”
Her smile disappears, and I immediately feel guilty for pointing it out when a look of dismay immediately settles over her face.
“Shit! No, Jak.” She groans and drops her head into her hands.
Her voice is muffled as she speaks down at the table, but I can hear her clearly.
“No wonder you thought I was punishing you. Here I thought I was just teasing you a bit for your joke earlier, but I never imagined that you were actually waiting on me, or that you believed I was withholding your enjoyment of the meal to get back at you. You must think I’m cruel. ”
I jump from my chair at how unhappy she sounds, knocking it over in the process as I rush to her side and drop to a crouch beside her.
I gently take her hand in mine and pull it away from her face to press it against my cheek.
I know my skin is currently at a much cooler temperature than hers as I am not flushed and heated with a powerfully warm emotion, but other than her brows dipping very faintly at the contact, she does not pull away.
Rather, she cups my cheek and brushes her fingers willingly against the cool surface with a depth of affection that I can feel illuminating the deep recesses of my demonic being.
Holding her gaze with mine, I turn my cheek into her hand and, without thought, brush a kiss against her palm.
The gesture surprises both of us, and I stare up into her eyes, dumbfounded, uncertain if I acted in a way that repulsed her.
I half expect her to recoil in revulsion, but her expression softens and her eyes glow with such tender emotion that warmth kindles to life within my chest again.
“I would be incapable of thinking that you are cruel. Not even for a moment,” I whisper.
“Even when you have had every reason to distrust me and be afraid of me, you have shown considerable kindness far beyond what any demon expects from a human. I just did not wish you to be upset further with me. Not just because of the food,” I quickly say before she can remind me of it, and her lips curl in response.
“But because I enjoy having this time with you.”
Time that will come to an end far too quickly.
Do not think of it, I remind myself with an impatient internal growl. It is not something that can be changed. A frost demon’s time with their prey is always limited, even for those females who chose to breed with the males under their influence.
A look of delight passes over her face—a look that I capture in my memory—and her eyes warm.
“I really enjoy it too. I admit it was a little strange at first,” she adds with a quiet laugh, and her eyes crinkle faintly again as she grins at me, “but it did not take long to see the kind and caring companion who welcomed me from the snow.”
“Even though I wished to eat you?” I ask with a tiny, teasing purr.
Shawna laughs softly at my words, her eyes dancing. “Even then you have been nothing but kind and generous toward me. Whatever your motivation was in bringing me here, you have been good to me.”
That warmth blooms deeper and brighter through me, and my chest expands as I draw in a deep breath, enjoying the sensation of this emotion.
This is trust and affection that I have heard of, but I never believed that I would experience it.
Suddenly, everything I have given her pales beside what she has given me.
Even this marvel of sharing meals is a bright, colorful moment in my life that will also fade once she is gone.
It does not matter. I would not enjoy such a gift if she were not here to share it with me. I spoke truthfully on that matter. It is not just tasting and eating the food, though my form is happily greedy for it. It is this connection that I am sharing with her in this moment.
I must do something more for her to express my appreciation for the beauty that she has brought into my life. Even when it fades, the memory of it will remain with the memory of her.
“Let’s eat,” she says softly, and she pats my cheek before gently withdrawing her hand. “All of this is best eaten hot rather than left to get cold. We should get started so that we can enjoy every bite of it.”
I nod before rising once more to my feet and hurrying back to my chair.
It is with practiced and careful maneuvering that I am able to get seated quickly across from her just as she is picking up her spoon.
Her lips quirk with amusement at my eagerness, but she waits patiently as I take my spoon in hand as well.
The first bite is an even greater ecstasy than I remember from our previous dining, and every bite afterward gets even better.
I have never felt such perfection in my being except when beholding the marvels of my world.
That she has added to it with such a vivid tapestry of experiences strikes me as profound. It also gives me an idea.
“Tomorrow is the eve of the winter solstice. I have a very special surprise for you,” I say conversationally between bites.
Shawna pauses and looks over at me with rapt interest. Her spoon lowers as she gives me her full attention. “A surprise?” she echoes.
I nod and gesture to the platter of meat that I am eager to try. “A special gift of sorts as a thank you for this gift you have given me. Let us try this next.”
She looks at the meat and also nods, but I do not miss the fleeting look of sadness. I wonder if I have done something wrong, but it is gone in a breath as she eagerly picks up some of the meat.
“A gift for a gift then. I admit I am very eager to see this surprise,” she teases.
“It is unforgettable,” I promise her, my spirits rising as the mood becomes lively once again.
Lingering beneath it all, a bittersweet sadness wells up that makes me come close to weeping despite my smiles.
I can only hope that this memory will remain vivid enough to keep me company through the rest of my long, lonely life.
By the dark ones, never before had I believed my existence to be depressing until now. Dark ones preserve me.