Page 5

“Never met a dog I didn’t like.” There was that half-smile again, the one that made my stomach swoop. Barnabas wasn’t even remotely close to being a dog, but it would be fine, I hoped.

I called Barnabas after I had closed the door behind us. It took only a few seconds for his mismatched feet to scramble down the stairs.

“Holy shit.” The human gasped before dropping to his knees. Seeing him there unearthed an unexpected but burning desire for him to repeat that for me.

“Hi, baby. Oh my God, who’s a good boy,” Nikolai crooned, petting a wriggling Barnabas between his little antlers. My Wolpertinger was blissed out with joy, grunting and huffing when Nikolai scratched his wing bases next.

I think I’d enjoy being called a “good boy” too.

“He’s so adorable, Jules.” The equally adorable human raised his eyes, his face falling for a moment before he caught himself. “It’s kinda weird to see a different face every time I look at you.” His nose scrunched up and I stared and stared. If I committed his expression to memory and hoped I would never forget it.

“Everything all right?” Nikolai asked me. “Do I have dirt on my nose?” He raised a hand and rubbed its tip. It curved up a bit. “Himmelfahrtsnase,” that’s what they called it. I suppressed a chuckle. It felt like I had ascended to heaven. This beautiful creature in my home was treating me as an equal not like an abomination.

You’re staring and haven’t said a word in a minute, Jules!

“Yes, of course.” I cleared my throat. “Can I offer you something to eat or drink? It will be some time before we can go back out there.”

“All right, buddy.” With one last pat on Barnabas’ back, he rose to his feet. “I’d love something to drink, thanks. I finished my bottle over an hour ago.”

“The kitchen is through here.” I led him down a hallway to the east wing. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? You must be hungry.”

A sturdy human like you.

Five

Nikolai

Withouthiswildbeardand somehow at least fifty years younger, Jules had gone from daddy to twink.

Can’t say I hate it, though.

He wore an old-fashioned linen shirt and long leather trousers that looked buttery soft. Under the lacing at the shirt neck, I spotted lean muscles fuzzed with chest hair the same dark ginger colour as the hair on his head. No longer grizzled and grey, it gleamed like polished copper in the soft lamp light.

I marvelled for a moment at the beauty he’d hidden under that shaggy beard. Jules appeared elegant, like a royal trying to blend in with the peasants, but his high cheekbones and regal aura betrayed him even in the humblest of clothes.

“I made stew today. I craved something more grounding and substantial on a storm day. Would you like some?”

Fuck yes, I’d like some.

What’s wrong with you, Nik? Stop it!

“Yes, uh, that sounds lovely, thank you.”

“Beer, wine, water? I also have elderflower sirup…”

I hardly ever had alcohol anymore. “Did you make the sirup yourself? Homemade is my favourite.”

“I did.” Jules gave me a shy smile.

“Then I’d love to try it.”

His smile widened as he poured some sirup from a glass bottle into a jug and added plenty of water to make it less sweet.

“Drink. You must be thirsty after walking around for so long. You can have more. I have plenty in my root cellar.”

You have no idea how thirsty I am.

With the state of my mental health I hadn’t felt anything remotely like arousal for ages. Until now.