Page 135

Story: Fawn

“Why not?” I pout and turn back to Seven. “Does it hurt?”

He runs a fingertip down my cheek and across my jawline. “No, Fawn, it does not hurt. It is merely that if you pet my antlers, I will be thinking about you petting… other things.”

“Oh,” I say, shifting on his lap and suddenly aware of the big bulge in his pants. His eyes darken, his nostrils flare. I wonder if he’s thinking about the time when he spread me out on the table and then rutted me right here over the remnants of my croissant.

He suddenly sets me onto my feet. “Why don’t we go now?” he says brusquely. “I think we have all finished eating.”

Chairs scrape back in unison as every man stands. I am confident they had not finished eating; some of them had barely begun.

“Now?” I squeak. My head barely reaches Seven’s chest. He is one of the largest males I have ever met, but I’m not thinking about his human form as I gaze up at him, for I am thinking about the form I met inside Wormwood—his battle stag.

My doe wags her tail. It manifests as a shiver that runs all the way down my spine and makes my ass wiggle.

Seven’s eyes lower to track the movement.

I swallow nervously—the air clouds with their rich masculine scents.

He steps back, making space for me and a clear path to the steps that lead down to the garden.

“Maybe we should fetch Blue. I’m sure he would like to play,” I say.

“No,” everybody says in unison again.

Goodness, they are all very bossy today!

“He is with Persa,” Wolf says smoothly, although I notice he shares a look with Seven, and a silent communication seems to be happening. “You can see him later. Go ahead and shift.”

He smiles. It has a strange, predatory air, making my tummy take a slow tumble.

Gideon’s throat bobs as he swallows. His eyes have a dark, unnatural gleam to them.

Nox has a tic thumping in his jaw.

Eiden runs his tongue over his lower lip—he looks like he wants to devour me on the spot.

I nibble on my lower lip. There’s something very intense about them today, all of them now that I consider it. Maybe it’s because of what happened. How I nearly died. How it might have ended so much worse.

Only it feels like it might be something more than that…

“Fine, then,” I say. I’m near bursting with excitement and energy. A familiar tingling begins in my core—the air whooshes. I look down, finding my silk dress on the floor before my hooves.

Electricity dances through me all the way to my tail. It wags.

I make a little skip.

I want to run fast.

Run and run and run until my legs have nothing left.

Not waiting to see whether they will follow, I charge for the stairs leading down to the Royal Woodland. My hooves clatter as I skitter down them, bounding, leaping, jumping, taking two or three steps at a time.

The sounds of pursuit follow me, setting excitement rushing anew.

Taking a flying leap from the last step, I race across the open grassy bank, straight for the densest trees. Glancing over my shoulder as I hit the tree line, I see four proud stags and a beautiful wolf following me.

They are noble beasts.

They are magnificent.