Page 7

Chapter 7

Damn the Gods, just move!” Callum roared.

Shoving a tree through a doorway was a feat he’d never thought impossible yet here he was, out of breath with the monstrosity jammed in the threshold of Rowan’s bedroom. Common sense told him to abandon his grandiose idea, but this was the exact tree he’d been searching for. Hints of moss still clung to its crevices and an abandoned bird’s nest perched in its hollow. Or a rat’s nest. Could have been rats. Still, Callum would settle for nothing less than that exact tree. Only the best for Rowan.

Already, the bedroom was decorated with pinecones and fresh cut branches. He’d even dipped into his collection of shiny glass bits, metal baubles, and pilfered jewelry to festoon across the ceiling. The tree was the final touch on this glorious nest. That is, if he could get the damn thing inside.

Callum dropped the trunk to wipe his forehead. It hit the hallway floor with a deafening crash, and the gaslit sconces burst into furious flames, licking the wallpaper black. “Your cottage witch will be more upset with you than me after that stunt,” Callum replied. “She picked that wallpaper out herself.” That didn’t make the house stop. The floorboards rippled, the tree vibrating out of the doorway. “No! Not after all that work!”

Callum braced it with his shoulder, hooves scrambling for purchase while they both rumbled towards stairs. “Please! This is for Rowan!” He clasped his hands to the ceiling. “I’m trying to give you what you want! What we both want!”

The floor stilled, then rippled again, moving Callum and the tree back down the hall and through the door. Callum’s sigh of relief turned to a groan as the mighty trunk stuck fast yet again, this time jammed against Rowan’s dresser. “Oh, by the Goddess’s tits! Why can’t this be easier?!”

Callum tongued the scar on his lower lip, tail lashing the air as he wracked his brain for a solution “It’s no use. The tree is far too large. The furniture will have to go”. Once again, the sconces blazed in protest. Callum rubbed his chin. “No, you’re right. Rowan would never approve of that. He’s very attached to his things”. Alas, that meant his perfect tree would have to be cut down. He flared his claws, crouching over the felled tree with a grimace. “It will be worth it,” he muttered.

He hacked and slashed, bark spraying across the floor and coating his leg fur. Great, now he’d need a broom and a bath on top of all of this extra labor. Bath? Hmm. PerhapsI could persuade Rowan to take one with me.

A surge of lust hit his groin. The thought his witch-boy’s naked body plump and pink in the tub was an irresistible fantasy. Callum would sluice the water away with his tongue as Rowan sang the praise of his nest. Callum worked faster. “This will definitely be worth it.”

“What is going on out here?” Aster peeked out her room, looking from Callum to the piles of wood dust, then back to Callum. “Do I want to know?”

“I’m building a nest for Rowan.” Callum took another swing, sending tornados of splinters flying.

“Nest? Shouldn’t a nest be in the tree? Not vice versa? And why the woodworking all the sudden?” Aster gasped. “Oh Gods, you’re going to put wooden dicks all over his walls, aren’t you?”

Callum scoffed. “I’m not a barbarian, Aster! I’m a refined seducer!”

“Well can you blame me for thinking that? I heard about the poetry.”

Callum winced. Oh yes, the poetry. It wasn’t until the next day he realized that Rowan”s cries of “Oh Gods!” and “Can we stop?” were not because he was overcome with lust. The only ones that had been receptive of Callum’s words that night were Rosemary and Dahlia who were not the target he was aiming for. So, it was on to his second wooing plot, one he knew would succeed.

“Nesting is an old satyr custom, and this tree is my centerpiece.” One solid kick of Callum’s hoof and the trunk split in two. “A good nest shows the prowess of its creator. It should comfort and pleasure a prospective mate.” He groaned as Aster clutched her hands to her chest with a bright squeal. “This is strictly for his peace, not mating.”

Though I would not refuse the offer if he threw himself at my feet after this. Afterall, Orlaith had swooned at his nest building and declared it the finest in the herd. This was his time to shine. Sure, he was a little rusty with his skills, but it was returning to him with each leaf and twig collected.

“That is so damn cuuuuute!” Aster hopped up and down like a hyper rabbit. “Okay, let me help. Do you need help? I want to help!”

“You can clean the hallway before your sister returns from town and eviscerates me with her sharp tongue.”

Aster gave him a little salute. “I’ll get my broom!”

Callum chuckled, dragging the chopped tree into the bedroom. He set it beneath a tall window, throwing open the thick curtains. A beautiful, snow dusted view framed the nook he created, sunlight twinkling off baubles buried in the moss piles circling the floor. Nothing but pine, and greenery, and wood as far as he could see. A lovely winter’s nest. Gods, if only it was spring. He’d gather every yellow flower on the mountain for Rowan. Was it too late to ask Ivy to go to that magical place she called the grocery store and fetch some for him?

“Hey Cal!” Aster called. “What are we going to do with-Whoa oh boy!” She ducked a low hanging tree limb over the door, lifting it with the handle of her broom before it caught her top knot of hair. Her throat bobbed, gaping at the scene before her. “Oh boy oh boy oh boy.” She tiptoed around piles of polished stones, shaking her head. “Oh…boy. Wow. This is…”

Callum lifted his chin with a proud smile. “Beautiful.”

“It’s very…” Aster chewed on her lower lip before finishing with, “Rustic. Um, you don’t think it’s a bit crowded though?” She nodded to the twigs spread before the fireplace in intricate star patterns. “...And a fire hazard?” As if to demonstrate, the hearth spat sparks and the twigs ignited, Aster slapped the flames out with her broom.

“Hmm you have a point.” He swept the now charred twigs under the rug with the brush of his tail. “There. Now it”s perfect.”

“Still kind of crowded though,” Aster insisted. “Do you really need that big of a log in here?”

“That is the best part!” He flourished his hands, tail slapping the back of his legs as it wagged. “It”s the exact one we coupled on. It took forever to hunt it down after it fell and was buried under piles of snow.”

Aster blinked then giggled, “Okay keep the sex log.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Now help me move the rest of it out the hallway before Ro or Ives get home.”

The front door below opened then closed, the jingling of keys followed. Footsteps rose on the stairs. “Anyone home?” Rowan called.

Callum’s heart shot into his throat and Aster squeaked, frantically sweeping the floor as if that would help. He shooed her towards the door, replying “Up here, Witch-Boy! I have a surprise!”

“Uh, okay?” Rowan’s voice grew closer. “Well, I have a weird question to ask you. Actually, my aunts have a weird question to ask you, but they asked me to ask you so-” A cacophony of thuds followed by a “Whoa-Shit!” came from the hall.

Aster winced, hugging her broom to her chest. “I think he found the rest of the log.”

Rowan stumbled in, shaking his leg as if his trousers were caught on something. “Callum, why is there-Ack!” He yelped as he ran into the low hanging branch, flailing the cuffs of his sweater into its spindly fingers. And there he hung, arms over his head, helplessly twirling. “What the hell!”

“Careful, I haven’t permanently secured that one just yet and its heavy.” Callum grabbed Rowan while he struggled like a fish on a lure.

“What are you doing in my room?” Rowan looked around wide eyed. “What did you do to my room?!”

“Hey Ro! Um...Surprise?” Aster tucked her hands behind her back, shuffling around the two and out the door. “Bye! Have fun in your nest!”

“My what?” Rowan tried to go after her, but only twisted the sleeves of his sweater. “Son of a…! Callum? Help?”

Callum spun him in the other direction, hoping to unwind him, but that only created a knot. So, he spun him backward. “Looks like you’re caught.”

Rowan slammed his boots into the floor. “Stop stop stop! I’m going to puke!”

“Oh yes, you’re well caught.” Callum tapped his chin studying the mess. “Alas, it will have to go.”

Rowan looked at the bough above him. “The tree branch?”

“Of course not! “Callum scoffed.

“My arms?!”

“You’re ridiculous, Witch-boy.” Callum raised his claws, slicing Rowan’s sleeve apart.

The witch yanked an arm free, frowning at the frayed yarn. “Dammit, I really liked that sweater.” He shimmied out of the garment, leaving it to dangle like a wilted blue leaf. The chill raised goose bumps along his bared torso and he wrapped his arms around himself with a shiver.

Callum wet his lips, unable to look away. Perfection. Just like he remembered. No roped muscle, or hard bone. Rowan was pink, healthy, and warm with a slight curve to his belly. Tan freckles spattered his shoulders, a fine patch of fiery hair sprinkling his chest.

A scar twisted up his hip, peeking out from the waistband of his pants. Callum’s cock twitched. Now he understood what Rowan had meant when he said scars were hot. He wanted nothing more than to bend Rowan over their tree and run his tongue over that raised imperfection.

Rowan poked a finger towards the log. “Is…is that the rest of the tree from the hall? Oh Gods, Ivy is going to have a breakdown.” He stumbled over the piles of curated rocks and twigs to his closet, fishing out an intact sweater. “I’m really confused, Cal. Why did you bring the outside inside-Oooooh what is this?” He gaped at crow feathers Callum had woven in the neckline and cuffs of his sweater “Wow, you really got everywhere, didn’t you?” Rowan peeked into his closet. “Yep. Every single sweater. Oh boy.”

“You like it? It took hours to decorate each garment.” Callum strode to him, puffed with pride. He plucked the sweater from his grip tossing it away, resting his hands upon his torso. “Not that you need such adornments. You’re magnificent all on your own.”

That beautiful shade of red stained Rowans cheeks, spreading down his chest. It darkened his freckles and puckered his nipples, drenching Callum’s palms in heat. But there was more than just shyness. Callum could scent desire. Arousal.

“Uh thanks?” Rowan backed away on shuffling feet. He scooped up his sweater, yanking the crow feathers off. “What is this all about?”

Callum spread his arms wide. “It’s a nest for you.”

“A…what?”

“A nest. The best I’ve built.”

“You’re nesting in my room?”

“No, you’re nesting. This is your womb of comfort. Filled with nature and familiar objects to bring you peace.”

The smell of his desire grew and Rowan took another step back. “You know, maybe things are getting a little-Woah!” His heel caught on a patch of moss still wet from the snow and he tumbled, clutching his thigh. “Fuck!”

Callum grabbed him by the waist, belly churning at the agony that squished the witch’s eyes. “Are you all right?”

“The sudden movement caught me off guard.” Pain drenched his words as he rubbed his leg. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Callum opened his mouth, a barrage of apologies on his tongue. Dammit, he should have considered Rowan’s injury. He should have made sure the floor was clear and everything was properly dried out. You’re an idiot. An utter moron. Quickly, Callum gathered Rowan in his arms, placing him gently onto his bed.

“Cal, I said it’s fine,” Rowan said, getting back to his feet.

“It’s not fine,” Callum sighed. “Rest. I’ll clean up this…this mess.” He swept the detritus that littered the floor with his tail as fast as he could.

“Cal, wait,” Rowan replied. But Callum was too lost in his embarrassment to obey. You stupid fool! He snatched the branch over the door, tossing it into the hearth, sweater and all. It went up with a crackling woosh. You broken, stupid-

Rowan grabbed his wrist before he could tear the rest of the nest apart. “I said wait.” His tone was firm and unyielding. “Stop.”

It was Callum’s turn to blush. “I’m acting a fool” That came out far sulkier than he wanted.

Rowan released him. “No. You’re not. You’re just having a reaction and I’m just…surprised, I guess. We’ll just clean up the floor is all.” He rested his hands on his hips, surveying the room. “The rest is nice. I like it. Having the outdoors inside works for me since the cold hurts my leg.”

Callum snorted. “You’re not just humoring me?”

“Honestly? Yeah, I’m humoring you. But I like the log. I can’t believe I like the log. Why does it look familiar?” When Callum snorted, Rowan stared at the log harder. Then his eyes went wide. “Oh Hecate, is that the log we…? You found the fuck tree?” Rowan sliced his arms through the air. “Whoa, whoa, back up. Did you bring that in my bedroom to have sex on it again!?”

Callum rolled his eyes. “I’m not opposed to that but it was not my intention. I simply want to woo you, Witch-boy. Make you feel special.”

Rowan turned beet red. “Did…did you say woo?”

“I did.” Callum thumped his chest. “Judging by your blush—which is very fetching by the way—I don’t think you’re against this idea.”

“I’m blushing because you brought our fuck tree into my sister’s house!” Rowan spun in a circle, clutching his hair. “When I said truce, I didn’t mean banging on the log!”

Callum threw his hands in the air. “By the Goddess’s tits, Witch-boy! That was not my intent!”

“Then what is your intent?” Rowan shook his head. “Cal, it’s not like I don’t like you. I do, but I don’t have time for a relationship.”

Callum rubbed his chest, trying to ignore the wound those words left. He took a deep breath. This isn’t about me. You know where he stands with you. “You don’t understand how to accept care and I need to teach you.”

“Yeah, I do!” Rowan snapped.

Callum slapped his hands on his hips. “Name the last time you did something for yourself.” The silence droned on and on, Callum tapping his hoof in waiting. As predicted, Rowan couldn’t come up with an example.

“Okay maybe I don’t always do,” Rowan finally said.

“You never do.”

“Fine. I’ll give you that. But the world doesn’t revolve around me. I have a lot of things resting on my shoulders.”

“Then let me take the honor of caring for you. You deserved to be wooed.”

“I’m not ready for mate-hood, Cal.” Rowan shook his head. “I don’t plan to be here forever. Eventually, I have to get back.” His words said one thing, but the lust stinging Callum’s nostrils defied them.

Callum took his hands, squeezing them gently. “Rowan, you never think of yourself, do things for yourself. You even ignore your injury, pretending you’re not in pain when you clearly are. Let me care of you, just for the time you’re here. And when you leave…You leave in peace.” Those last words were like eating blades. But when Rowan relaxed, he swallowed the pain. He’d be what Rowan needed, he’d be important to someone again even if it was for a blink of time. “Do you agree to this?”

Rowan bit his lower lip, bouncing on his toes. “I…I don’t have an answer for you right now.”

“Then come to my wing tonight.” He lifted Rowan’s hand, pressing his lips across his knuckles. “You can give me your answer then.”

Rowan stared at Callum’s mouth, wetting his own. “I have to get up early and head to my aunts’ shop for…” He shook his head. “Nephew things.”

“Then the night after.” Callum stepped close, their chests brushing.

“I don’t know. You might have a long wait.” Rowan’s breath hitched. As if in a trance he rested his hand over Callum’s heart. Callum bit back a moan as fingers traced the puckered scars across his collarbone, sliding to his belly. Lower, Witch-boy. Please, go lower.

Callum smiled. “Witch-boy, I’d wait an eternity of nights for you.”

The sound of a car pulling into the drive broke the spell. Rowan pulled his sweater over his head, “Sounds like Ivy’s home. I better help her unload the groceries. And you should clean up the hall before she sees the mess.”

“I’ll await your answer, Witch-Boy.”

Rowan looked around at the nest one more time. The tiniest of smiles tugged his mouth up. “I…I got to go.” He disappeared into the hallway.

By Dionysus’s balls he was winning Rowan over. Callum bowed his chest, pride swelling. Not a yes, but not a negative response either. As far as Callum was concerned that was a step in the right direction. And even though this wooing would be temporary, he would treasure every second.