Chapter 18
Jak
Ilay in bed beside Shawna, my gaze soft with affection as I tease her curls with my claw.
The red strands look like fire against my colorless flesh, and I cannot resist sifting them between my fingers before allowing her curls to fall between my claws.
My hand goes still, however, as she stirs sleepily and instinctively turns into my touch.
Panic immediately sets in as her nose wrinkles slightly and her mouth opens in a yawn.
What do I do? I have never woken up beside anyone before.
Do I act as if this is natural contact until she pushes me away and asserts her personal boundaries?
Or do I leave the bed before she has completely awakened to provide sustenance?
I am completely frozen with uncertainty as I debate the positive and negative points of each option, and so I am still lying there—likely with a startled and fretful look on my face—when she turns her head toward me and her eyes flutter open to focus on me.
I barely dare to breathe with the way panic is rising in sharp alarm through me.
But then she blinks and her expression softens with a sweet smile that triggers an incredible sense of relief to wash through me so swiftly that it makes me lightheaded and leaves a tingling sensation throughout my entire body.
That feeling only sinks deeper so that I am vocally purring as she strokes her hand through the loose locks of hair framing my face.
“Jak, good morning. Happy Yule,” she murmurs.
“Blessed Yule,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper as it squeezes around the emotion that has tightened my throat.
Shawna smiles in response and then carefully extends her arms above her head, taking care to not accidentally jab or strike me as she stretches leisurely.
Her back arcs off the bed, thrusting her breasts up decadently, and her toes point to brush my calves as she simultaneously stretches her legs as well.
A shiver runs through me, and I want to curl my body and wings around her to savor this feeling of togetherness even as I am overcome by an equally powerful desire to slip out of bed before this feeling gets stronger and compromises my good intentions to my sweet human.
In the end, I am a simple demon, and the laws of the frost demons have little true power over me when it comes to acquiring that which I desire most. They are not even true laws as they are not even remotely enforceable, though obedience to them is strongly encouraged and nurtured within young frost demons.
Truthfully, I have always agreed with them in theory because I have seen how impulsive and covetous young male frost demons can be.
Such rules ultimately keep humans safe from being used and cast aside by these males.
But now that I am encountering such a strong attachment to Shawna, I cannot believe that they are meant to be binding and permanent in any absolute sense.
If so, last night would not have even been possible.
Demons are not without ways to enforce laws where it matters most—specifically by setting up magical inhibitors once a male becomes sexually mature.
This is done in a realm of desert-dwelling demons to keep the passions of the male populace under control during certain seasons.
Such things are possible, and yet, despite our rigid expectations regarding breeding practices, this has never been leveraged against young males within the frost demon realm.
What if... what if this is a guideline of control and conditioning so that males will not yield to impulse when their sexual hunger take control?
My tail twitches with excitement, and I search my memory whether there are any elder males and females near my territory whom I might ask.
“You are certainly thinking hard about something,” Shawna teases, drawing my attention back to her. She grins at me, her eyes gleaming impishly. “Where did your mind go?”
I shake my head, my lips curling with the smile that I feel welling up from within me. I lean down and brush a kiss on her lips before drawing back just enough to peer down at her as I bask in the warmth of our mutual affection.
“I was just thinking of what we might do today,” I reply.
It doesn’t really qualify as a lie since the thought had crossed my mind a time or two while I was toying with her hair.
“The snow will return this evening, but I thought maybe a walk through the woods would be pleasant to gather winter berries.”
“Winter berries,” she echoes, and she gives me an intrigued smile.
I nod solemnly as I gather her up into my arms and curl a wing around us.
“Winter berries are a rare treat that only fruit on the winter solstice in the frost demon realm. Something to do with specific currents of magic on this one day of the year that causes them to flower and then ripen by midday. But you only have until sundown to pick them,” I quickly caution, “because then they ferment and become inedible to all except the birds.”
“Fascinating,” she replies as she snuggles closer, and I gradually become aware of the gathering shared heat growing between us.
Once again, I am not merely siphoning off her heat as I would normally do around human prey. Instead, I am contributing and sharing within it. The experience leaves me breathless with rapt fascination.
“It is,” I agree, though for an entirely different reason. This moment between us is of far more interest and value than a magical berry for me.
Shawna brushes her fingertips down the webbing of my wing, her fingernails scratching delicately enough to send a tremor through me.
She studies my face as she subjects me to this erotic torture and smiles.
“Is there something particularly special about eating these berries?” she queries in a soft voice.
I nod eagerly, though I suddenly cannot recall what they do. The memory is evasive, but I fight back my growing ardor to sharpen my focus on it. It escapes me several times before I am able to pin down the thought.
I gasp audibly as she traces a fingertip close to the knuckle of one of my wing’s long fingers. I never realized that particular spot was so sensitive!
“Jak,” she says, practically singing my name, and she smiles playfully at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod again, the movement far jerkier this time, and a small, pitiful sound escapes that sounds mildly painful. Shawna winces a little at the groan but giggles sympathetically as she removes her hand.
“A little intense, huh?” she asks, and her cheeks dimple with that impish grin returning once again. “I forgot how much my body heat affects you.”
“It is fine,” I reply hoarsely and shake my head to clear some of the fuzz from my mind.
Now that I have some space to breathe, some clarity seeps back into my mind and I am able to refocus on her previous question.
“You asked about the berries. Outside of being called winter berries, we also call them fire starter berries because eating them can send bursts of pleasurable warmth through you. The feeling fleeting, and not nearly as satisfying as the Feast, but consuming them is universally enjoyed by frost demons.”
She leans forward, her eyes bright with interest. “And this is what we are doing today?”
“After breakfast,” I confirm as I climb from the bed, my tail flicking the air with barely contained excitement.
I have never shared this with another being since I was a youngling running with my siblings.
I am suddenly excited that I will have Shawna to share the winter berries with.
Truthfully, it is not enough. I have been alone so long that I am eager to share everything and entwine her closer to me to brighten and warm my lonely existence.
Not only that, I yearn to bring her happiness for the rest of my days.
“Although today is the only day we may find them, it will not be until later in the afternoon. We have plenty of time to enjoy a leisurely breakfast before strolling through the woods.”
There is certainly no hurry to reach them. Getting to the berry patch deep within the forest will not make them ripen any quicker.
Her mouth downturns with disappointment, but the prospect of food cheers her quickly enough so that she is following eagerly out into the kitchen.
Contentment stirs within my breast as I lead the way to the stoves.
My skin prickles at her proximity, and though it goes against everything I was taught about concealing our magic, I openly strike up their magical fires without a second thought.
I can feel Shawna watching me and I gather that the way that I actually use the stove is not one Shawna expected.
Her startled gasp as a plate of fluffy crepes drizzled with a berry sauce rising from the large cauldron on the stove confirms this.
Her obvious appreciation and my simple, yet powerful, joy in sharing this with her as well sends a spike of warmth careening through me.
I intentionally snuff the flames of the spell fire so that she sees the entire process from beginning to end, and turn to her with a smile.
“What the hell? Jak, is this how you normally prepare all the meals?”
I glance at her over my shoulder, my eyebrows rising. “You do not truly think I actually cook all of that food with my own hands, do you?”
A blush brightens her cheeks, and I chuckle despite my good intentions and desire to save her pride. I grin at her playfully.
“I suppose that I do use my own hands, in a manner of speaking, but only to work the magic,” I clarify.
“Frost demons are talented at conjuring things with raw elements at our disposal. We have long benefitted from a relationship with certain metalsmiths among the fire demons to lend us the elements we need to open the pathways to conjure delicacies from the human world.”