Page 15
Story: Small as a Mushroom
Sunlight streamed through a lattice of branches, painting the canopy of the city below in shifting patches of green and gold. Platforms of aged heartwood fanned out from smaller trunks, of the children of the Sunsong Arbor. Rope-thick bridges connected pathways for those who needed to use their legs to traverse the many levels of the tree-strung city.
I could see winged figures drifting in graceful arcs, their feathers catching the light like stained glass. I turned away from the swooping movement of the city below, back to the curtain, back to where a woman waited for me to do my duty to my people.
My heart was heavy with the thought.
I’d spent so many years avoiding it for the sake of my brother, but now that the final battle was imminent, the thought of creating a child filled me with dread and joy. There was always risk in battle, and I couldn’t stand the thought of creating a new life to leave behind.
I desired her. I craved her. I yearned to sink myself inside of her.
I glanced back as movement caught my eye.
Solarian was right at my shoulder.
“You will not enter,” I ordered.
“Sire, such an important occurrence bears witness,” Solarian said. “It is tradition.”
“It is not her tradition,” I said, pulling from my knowledge of what I'd seen in the Mundane realm. “You will not enter.”
“Understood,” Solarian nodded, acquiescing to my command.
I spilled my magic into one of the runes on the archway to release the warning mechanism, and then pushed apart the curtain and entered the royal aerie. I walked through the sitting room, my eyes skimming over the furniture grown from the inner walls of the tree from carefully placed grafts, padded with thick linen cushions. There were several perch seats in the high vaulted room next to huge stained glass windows that threw light across the room, with enough room for five people to lift up into flight at the same time without brushing feathers. The room smelled like sunshine and life, the scents of home. I strode across the thick hand-woven rug that dominated the room and to the back of the room.
I pushed past the high vaulted lintel that marked the end of the sitting room and the beginning of the broad hallway that connected the various rooms of the royal chambers.
I found her in the nesting chamber, a room that had been left empty until I chose to start a family. She was sitting up on top of a mounting table that had been set up in the center of the room, a towel wrapped around her. Her shoulders glistened with massage oil, and she gave me a tentative smile as I strode into the room.
The sight of her long, strong legs and those muscular arms stoked the burning heat inside me.
I couldn’t do this.
I wanted to do this, and I didn’t want to do this.
I was desperate for her, and I was desperate to not touch her.
“Have you preened to your satisfaction?” I asked her.
“Preened?” she asked. “I mean, the food was delicious and the masseuse was phenomenal. I feel all loose and relaxed. I also did extra... stretches.”
I took a deep breath, examining the knot of reluctance in my heart.
I needed to tell her I didn't want to mate with her. The problem was, those words weren't true, and she wasn't my enemy. Lies were a tool used to deceive the enemy, and in the short time I had spent with her, I already knew that she would never be that to me. The burning desire in my body was for her. The throb between my legs, thick with anticipation, was for her. I wanted her more than I'd wanted any woman in a long time.
She shifted back on the table, making a space between her legs, and patted it.
"Let me rub your shoulders," she said, her voice soft with the embers that burned in her hazel eyes.
My words failed me, and I found myself moving forward. I stopped at the edge of the table, facing her, my wings spreading out to either side, curving up to cup around us, my wing tips brushing up against the table as I stopped them. I was displaying for her.
She reached up and put her oiled hands on my shoulders, the heels of her palms resting against the upper part of my pectorals. She pressed forward, hooking her fingers into my trapezius muscles to use them as a brace to press the heels of her hands into my pecs.
"Oh," I gasped out as my wings shuddered from the sudden, delectable touch.
"There has to be a better way to do this," she murmured as she glanced over at my wings. I spread them out even wider, my body reacting to her interest.
I lowered myself to my knees.
I set my hands gently on her thighs, close to her knees, and I felt her legs tense under my touch, a slight tremor running through her skin.