37. Bodin
Chapter 37
Bodin
“ C areful!” I bellow, yanking Willow against my chest. Her blanket snags in the moving stone, threatening to drag her along. She yelps as the floor tilts.
“I’ve got you,” I growl. “Let go of the blanket.”
She releases it, and I haul us both into the doorway’s refuge. Wind gusts past as a stone wall sails by, rock grinding in a deafening roar.
I twist, pressing Willow’s spine to the thin doorframe. My arms cage her, shielding her from harm. Glancing around, I see walls shifting beyond our sanctuary. We’re trapped.
Air continues rushing in, circulating her unique, musky scent in our cramped space. It stirs something within me that I’m unprepared to examine.
“Are you okay?” I ask her
Wide expressive eyes meet mine, and she nods. “Thanks to you. Are we safe here?”
“If the castle wanted to move this doorframe, it would have by now. We’re secure until the walls finish shifting.”
“How long?”
“Could be minutes. Could be an hour.”
Her eyes widen. “Stuck in this tiny space?”
“Yes.”
It’s not even safe to call for Styx until the castle stops moving. Darkness envelops us as a moving wall blocks the lantern light from the dining room. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, the transformation always demands stillness. One misstep could mean being swept away by the castle’s whims.
I might survive the moving walls, but she’s mortal. Fragile as a bird in my hand. The thought chills me.
“It’ll be okay,” I promise. “I’ll protect you.”
The blanket is gone, lost in the castle’s walls. If a wall comes too close, nothing will remain of her fragile body.
“Don’t move an inch,” I instruct, voice low and rough.
“Why?” she asks warily.
“Always so defiant. Even in the face of death.”
“I believe you’ll keep me safe.” She scowls. “Just wondering why I have to remain completely still? Will the walls come in here? Will they?—”
“I’m removing my shirt for you to wear. In case the bricks get too close.”
“Oh.”
My gaze drops to her lips, pursed in frustration.
“That makes sense,” she admits, eyeing the moving walls warily.
I try to remove my shirt, but the cramped space makes it difficult. I have mere inches to work with.
“Let me help,” she offers. Her palms slide up my front, and my breath hitches. Every ounce of awareness in my body focuses on that point, seizing it, claiming it, drawing her into me as if she’s intangible, too.
I swallow hard.
Does she have to sleep in the nude all the time?
Hunger builds within me—craving, obsession. I should tell her to stop when her fingers work at my collar’s laces, but words fail me. All I can do is brace myself against the doorframe around her, ensuring I’ll take the brunt of any impact.
Her nimble fingers set my skin ablaze. My eyes flutter closed.
“Okay,” she murmurs. “Arms up higher.”
I comply, sliding my hands up the frame to above her head. Her touch skates along my sides as she lifts the shirt. I hold my breath, fighting arousal. If I let it in, there’ll be no stopping me. I’d crush her with my want, demolish her with my need.
I call her Calamity not for her actions but as a warning—a reminder of what I’ll do to her if I lose control. How did Fox manage? How does Legion resist? Thoughts of her taste consume me. I want to explore every inch of her mouth. Stop. Empty her from your mind. My fists tighten against the doorframe, creaking the wood.
“Bodin?” she whispers. “Are you okay?”
I want to fuck your mouth. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You’re sweating.”
Because it hurts to hold myself back. “It’s hot in here.”
“You never get hot.”
Only around you. “You done?”
She makes a disgruntled sound but finishes removing my shirt with clinical attention.
“Got it,” she says, then adds under her breath, “Jackass.”
“What?” I glare down at her.
“Nothing,” she replies with a sweet smile that scatters my thoughts.
Those fuckable lips invade my dreams nightly. If I’m not having a nightmare about bloody canary feathers, it’s those fucking lips wrapped around my cock, hot against my throat, sucking on my earlobe, whispering filthy things she’ll do to me.
I know she can take it. I know she wants it. The worst part is that I know how eager she is to explore it. With me. With us. She needs to feel close, to sink into us as much as we do with her. The gods wouldn’t have given us anyone different. But they have fucked up timing.
This thing between us has to wait until our hive is whole, until we’re invincible.
“Put it on.” My command is too guttural, too thick with emotion, and I shut my eyes again. It’s dark now in our little hideaway, but her skin is luminous as if lit from within. Sometimes, I think it’s a trick of the eyes. Even the shadows can’t contain her for long. Our Calamity, she shines for us.
Catch our falling star.
A memory. A voice.
I sense movement beneath me as she puts on my shirt, but then she curses and jostles to the side. My eyes snap open, fearing she’s been caught, but she grabs my belt to steady herself. Her fingers dig into my waistband, brushing against the sensitive tip of my erection. I suck in a sharp breath.
“Sorry?” she gasps but doesn’t remove her hand.
Which means she felt it. She knows I’m hard for her. For a moment, I can’t move.
I glance down and see her silver head dipped, her shadowed shoulders swathed in my shirt. At first, some deep possessive part of me preens to see her wearing my clothes again, knowing my scent marks her again. But then I realize what she’s looking at.
“Willow?”
“Yes, Bodin?”
“You need to remove your hand from my pants.”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I detect a note of challenge in her voice.
The air between us is electric, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Every breath, every twitch, sends sparks into my body. I’m caught between the instinct to protect her and the overwhelming fear of hurting her.
“If you don’t,” I growl, fighting for control, “I might do something we both regret.”
“Like what?”
“Always testing, aren’t you?”
“Questioning, I think you mean.”
I huff, almost laughing. Shaking my head, I count the striations in the wooden doorframe above her and remind myself of my duty. Protect. Don’t destroy.
She slips her hand from my pants, but relief doesn’t come. We’re too close to escape the heat, the awareness prickling my skin.
“When the castle finishes,” I say through gritted teeth, “I’ll take you to your room.”
“You mean Fox’s room?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t—” she begins, then stops.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I drop a hand to her chin, lifting her eyes to mine. “Finish your sentence.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” she admits, golden eyes flashing.
My grip tights before I catch myself and let go.
“The wildling can sleep with you,” I offer, returning my gaze upward.
“No,” she replies. “No, thank you.”
“No?”
“I want it to be you. I’ll feel safer.”
I arch an eyebrow, doubting her reasons. But before I can challenge her, she gasps.
“The baby Hunt!” she cries. “What if the castle?—”
“The little beastie is fine,” I grumble. “It has a knack for getting out of tight spaces.”
“You sure?”
“As sure as the sun comes up in the morning.”
“Okay.” She relaxes, but her concern for the dragon touches something in me. Her capacity for care, even for a creature others might fear, reminds me of why she’s different from the queens we’ve known before.
We don’t speak while the castle moves, grating and rushing around us. It’s taking its time to decide on a structure tonight.
“Bodin?”
“Yes, Calamity?”
“Why are you avoiding me? Why does Legion refuse to touch me?”
I swallow.
“Emrys doesn’t surprise me,” she sighs. “He’s always had some kind of burning hate for me.”
“Ignore him. It’s not about you.”
“Even Styx, I understand.” She gnaws at her lip. “That was about me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . I called you all monsters in Elphyne. Maybe he hates me because of that, too.”
“He won’t remember that,” I point out pragmatically. I don’t. “And he doesn’t hate you.”
“He doesn’t?”
The hope in her voice melts my heart. “No.”
“Then what is it?”
I stare down at her. The curve of her cheeks, her scent mingled with mine, makes this hard to resist. I growl at myself, and she looks up, confused. “You keep doing that—growl.”
“Ignore me, too.”
“See? That’s the thing. I can’t.” She digs her fingertips past my belt again. “I won’t.”
“You should.”
“You keep saying dumb things like that too. We’re mates, Bodin. It’s too late to ignore this.”
I close my eyes, fighting against the surge of desire her words ignite. I can’t risk hurting her. I can’t risk losing control like I did with the canary, especially since I can’t remember exactly what I did.