Page 26 of Below the Shadow of the City
CHAPTER 26
FRIDAY, MID NOVEMBER
O n a random night I dream of a young maiden trapped in a castle by a ferocious beast. The ingénue is doe eyed and terrified, pacing the stone floors of the bedroom that serves as her prison cell. Dressed in all white, dark strands of hair tied up neatly in a ribbon, she’s a perfect example of innocence and purity.
She’s a village girl who doesn’t know how she’s found herself in such a predicament. Her large brown eyes widen as she thinks of the creature that lurks beneath, awful and terrifying and in direct opposition to all things pure and wonderful. She hasn’t yet resigned herself to this permanent prison. She’s headstrong and believes that she may find her way out, somehow. It’s a classic tale, one could even say as old as time.
As the scene plays out during my REM sleep, I’m watching this sequence from above, floating in the corner of her room like a ghost. There’s nothing about this girl that I recognize, beyond the obvious parallels to every story I’ve read and movie I’ve seen regarding the original subject matter. She and I are nothing alike, I’m pretty sure if I was locked in a room as she was I’d be little more than apathetic.
Even in this dream state, I’m well aware that Maddox fits the loose description of the creature. Their similarities end at the vague physical attributes. I now scoff at the fact that anyone could call him frightening or terrible, he’s anything but.
Maddox and I subvert the story’s trope entirely, comically so. He’s the patient, gentle, and likable one while I’m the one who’s pacing in my fortress and primed to snap at any moment. I’m the one who was saddled with the curse of being unable to love and be loved, and he, well he has more love to give than he probably knows what to do with.
In the original story of Stockholm Syndrome made sweet, the forced proximity brings the two together. She falls in love with him despite his appearances, and he shows that even his bristly exterior holds a warm loving heart within. She confesses his love for him, he becomes a handsome prince, and they live happily ever after.
In my dream, the story drastically diverges. I float above the tower she’s locked in and realize that there’s no castle below her, it’s only her and the tall twisted turret. And when she finds an enchanted mirror lying on her vanity, it doesn’t show her the life she left behind.
Instead, she stares at her reflection, blinking and grimacing and watching her visage do the same. It morphs into this monster she’s been taught to fear, something far worse, actually. She shrieks, then stares at the reflection, noticing it mimics each of her movements. Every wink, every flash of her tongue, each motion is parroted back to her.
She has no actual beast to be frightened of, only a monster within. It’s a nasty thing, growling in anger, swiping at expensive upholstery. It’s something so terrible one couldn’t imagine that it could ever be loved. And she’s cursed to carry it with her. It’s always lurking just beneath the surface, scaring off anyone who might get too close to coax it out.
I watch her and see the acceptance of her fate. So long as that inner beast is around, she’ll be trapped in that tower forever.
I wake with a start, needing a minute to reacquaint myself with my surroundings. I’m in my own bed, in my own apartment, alone. I still frantically pat the space next to me as if Maddox will materialize. In the dark cold of my bedroom there’s nothing I crave more than his body besides mine. I want to see his chest rise and fall and watch the rippling of his muscles tucked beneath his fur. The silence is stiff without his heavy breathing to act as white noise. My heartbeat slows. The recency of the dream, no, nightmare, hangs over me.
My subconscious was apparently primed to smack me over the head with a metaphor so direct I’m afraid it was written and directed by a Hollywood studio. Eyes still bleary and brain still foggy, I flip my phone over to check the time.
My own beast had texted me while I’d been unconscious in my tower. Nothing of actual importance, just a link to a video he found amusing a few hours ago. I smile wearily watching the video, picturing myself laughing at it by his side. When I lock my phone again I catch a glimpse of my own reflection.
I have been a cruel, cold monster to Maddox. He didn’t deserve my constant avoidance of any real conversation about our relationship and blasé approach to emotional intimacy. He stayed anyway, doing all he could to coax the creature out of me. Maddox doesn’t need to pry out my honest feelings anymore, we don’t need to have tear-filled exchanges in the laundry room. Because now, at two in the morning on a random Tuesday, I have all the clarity I need.
“I’m fixed!” I nearly throw myself into his apartment when I arrive. He remains in the doorway and rubs his padded palm along his jaw as he tries to understand just what I’m trying to convey.
I step past him and correct myself, “I’m cured, free of the curse, magically saved, whatever the fuck you want to call it.” I shove the bags of groceries for today’s recipe into his arms as I push past him.
“Oh, so all those favors I’ve been calling into other fae have paid off,” he chuckles.
I’ve skipped halfway across his living room when I whip around with confusion, “wait, actually? Fae magic is real ?”
“No,” he shakes his head and laughs. “Of course not. I’m glad that you’ve freed yourself of this entirely imaginary curse you claimed to be under.” He grabs my shoulders and pulls me in for a kiss hello, treating this as if it’s any other date and I’m not raving like a lunatic.
“It’s a paradox, Maddox!” I exclaim when our lips part. “A self-fulfilling prophecy. There’s no actual monster, only my own internal feelings keeping me trapped.” I see him quickly point to himself with a questioning look on his face when I say there’s no monster, “I mean no monster in, like, a figurative sense.”
My completely nonsensical mutterings leave him unamused, but he still hints a small smile at me.
“Whatever you say, Sigrid,” he dismissively nods with a laugh before tracking to the kitchen.
“I had a weird dream and I think it fixed everything.” I cross my arms and watch him listen as he pulls a glass from the cabinet and fills it with water.
“Months of going back and forth and avoiding your emotions was solved with a dream ?” He returns and places the glass of water in my hand, clearly thinking I’m on drugs or dehydrated and hallucinating.
“I needed my subconscious to bite me on the ass to figure it out.” I take a long sip, purely to appease him since he’s definitely convinced I’ve lost it.
“And what did said ass biting tell you, exactly?”
“That I’m the sole person who’s been holding myself back all this time, and that I can’t stay trapped forever. I don’t have a shred of doubt anymore, and I’d be a fool if I kept trying to scare you away. Maddox, I love you. Not just in a desperate, yearning way, but in the quiet mornings, in the laughing fits we have together, and in every single moment I spend with you. And I’m not afraid of losing you anymore because you’ve shown me time and time again that you’re not going to leave without warning. You’re far better than anyone else I’ve ever been with, by a mile. And, stupid as it sounds, I really think I could spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Fucking finally,” Maddox says. “She gets it, folks!” He calls out to an imaginary crowd. He reaches around my waist and tosses me over his shoulder. I playfully punch at his back, fruitlessly since I know he won’t put me down until it’s on top of his bed.
I flop onto the comforter with a gentle thud and he’s already pulling his shirt over his head. I stay still, flat on my back, relishing in the way the downy comforter cools the heat rapidly covering my body. He bends down over top of me, and something twists deep in my stomach. I’m ready and anxiously awaiting whatever he’s going to do to me. He leans in closer and grazes my earlobe with his razor sharp canines.
“I love you more than anything and you’re going to be mine forever . That’s a threat, by the way.” Each consonant sends a chill down my spine, I twitch as he says every word. He speaks like it’s a holy oath, something he’s vowed to never break.
“Wait,” I jerk up, “Before we start our forever I need to be upfront about all my flaws so you won’t discover them and decide to leave me once you do. For starters, I’m terribly stubborn, and I hate talking about feelings, but you’re well aware of that…”
“Sigrid,” Maddox mutters my name, barely a penny on the rails of this quickly derailing locomotive. Everything that past partners have brought up bubbles to the surface. I carefully logged and tracked each comment and filed it away with the other reasons they left.
“…And I know that I snore sometimes, which you also probably know already, my ex told me that it drove her crazy?—”
“Sigrid,” he says a little louder, I’m unable to stop myself.
“And I don’t like cats, I pretend I’m allergic so I don’t have to interact with them. Honestly even dogs sometimes annoy me which everyone says is a red flag but I really don’t like other people’s pets climbing all over me on the street?—”
“Sigrid, will you just shut up?” He finally pulls me from my ranting, saying my name firmly like it’s a pet name he’s devised for just me. No one has ever said my name like that, and I doubt anyone will ever again. Each vowel lingers on his tongue with a passionate fervor, as though my name is an incantation that can cure whatever ails him.
I stare at him in befuddled silence, suddenly forgetting what I was saying. His brows tilt inwards, the corner of his lip twitches revealing the smallest hint of his fang.
“Sigrid,” he says my name a final time, like it’s a statement of fact. “Every supposed flaw you list only makes me like you more. You’re not going to be anything shy of perfect in my eyes. And unfortunately, you’re going to have to accept that.”
“Just in case you change your mind?—”
“Stop it, okay? I won’t change my mind. This is the last time we’re having this conversation. Besides, I’m also a many-flawed individual.”
“Doubtful, in case you weren’t aware you’re pretty fucking perfect. ”
“Well, you see,” he starts. “You’re stubborn, but I can be a little bit brutish. Though, I think you’d have no problem doing what I tell you to.” His eyes narrow, I’m merely prey now. I’m going to give him the thrill of a fight even though it’s one I’ll let him win every single time.
“Maddox…” I begin to breathe heavier. “You think you can just tell me what to do?”
“Oh, baby,” he leans in close enough that I can see the tiny crinkles in the fur beside his eyes. “I know I can. Because try as you might, you can never fully escape my clutches. I know I haunt you, I know when you’re alone in bed at night you think about me. When you touch yourself, it’s my lips, my fingers, and my cock that you’re envisioning.”
Did he see my horrid search history? Does he know how often I play that voice note of his?
“Try me,” I tease. He grunts, scoffing at the thought of me not succumbing to him. He’s right, of course, I’ll fold. Surely I can give the apex predator in him a bit of a chase. His large hand grips around my thigh, his thumb rubs the inside of it and even through my jeans I can feel the roughness of the leathery pads of his fingertips.
“Fine then,” he eases back a few inches. “Are you going to take those off or do you need me to rip them off for you?” He growls low when he casts his shirt on the ground. His broad, fur-covered chest is before me. A formidable mountain that I’m desperate to climb. I look down at the outfit I’m wearing and decide I can risk losing these pieces. “I think I’m going to need some help getting them off.” He snarls and pounces on top of me, gathering the fabric of my shirt in his teeth and shredding it off in one swift motion. Cold air hits my bare stomach, and I hastily unclasp my bra and toss it aside.
My insides twitch as my fingers undo my jeans and I shimmy out of them, still horizontal on the bed. I hear his belt fall to the floor and I sit upright, “you helped with my shirt, I should return the favor.” He steps closer to me, my eyes level with his waist as he towers above my head. Maddox’s eyes twinkle as he lowers his head and kisses me on the forehead. It’s practically a magic trick how he can make the tiniest acts feel like fireworks.
I slowly unbutton his pants, and take my time as I slide them down his legs. My hands caress his perfectly rounded ass as I lower the jeans to the ground, then track around towards the front of his boxers where I feel his erection begging to be released. My fingertips slowly trace the waistband of his boxer shorts and I pull them down, inch by inch, he tilts his head back in anticipation.
Now that his cock is out, it’s perfectly at lip level for me, raging hard, and glistening with precum. I lean closer and grab the base and drag my tongue around the tip. His size no longer fazes me. I know I can take it, and I crave being filled by him. Sex was never a concern. It was, dare I say, the easiest part of all of this. I grind myself along the edge of the bed and stimulate a buzzing in my clit while I stroke the base of his cock and suck on the tip like it’s a rocket pop and it’s the middle of July.
His fingers tangle in my hair, grasping at the chin length strands. He holds his hand firmly against the back of my head, but it moves with little resistance. As my head bobs up and down his cock, his claws dig into my scalp. My tongue runs across the vein that’s a lightning bolt down the center of his length, and his claws grip deeper. It’s a sharp, hot, pain. One I wish wouldn’t dissipate.
He whimpers and whines as my mouth moves over him, and I love having the power to subdue him like this. When he comes, I swallow it all and he wipes the last bit of it dribbling from my chin with his thumb.
He pushes me down back into my horizontal position and grips my ankles, spreading my legs wide open. “My turn,” he bellows, “I’m desperate to get a taste of your sweetness.”
My underwear rip open with little resistance, he’d done me the kindness of stocking extras at his place since this was now a routine of his.
“Look at you,” he growls with a smirk. “Already dripping for me.” My thighs clench, and I have no snarky comments to say in rebuttal. He drags a teasing claw along my slit, eliciting a whimper that I attempt to cover up. He smiles and shakes his head as he bends his finger and circles his knuckle around my clit. With an impish grin, he meets my gaze and licks his finger clean before firmly placing his hands on my hips. The force of his clasp pins me to the bed, my twitches suppressed by his bulking arm muscles. I whimper a bit at the mere feeling of being pinned beneath him.
His licks are slow and intentional, back to front with his wide, flat, and rough tongue. I’m still forced flat on the bed, and each motion he offers with his mouth bucks my hips under his leathery palms. With his desperate exhales I feel the heat of his breath practically curl up inside me and make a home. I’m rapidly chasing an orgasm just from the way his tongue circles itself around my clit like an anxious animal pacing to find somewhere to rest.
Each thrust of his tongue brings a wave of pleasure that rocks my entire being. From above my hips his eyes narrow, and in this second he looks as ferocious a creature as ever. He bites his lip and groans with the motions. Instinctively, I reach for him, and he expects I’ll grab his horns for stability, instead I hold my hands on his cheeks. His beastly nature breaks into a grin, a chuckle erupts that’s mixed with a moan and a growl, a sound so Maddox it’s like music. I shake with an orgasm and he pulls himself out from between my legs and against my body.
He rumbles a purr against my chest as I’m wrapped against him. My hands burrow deep into the soft fur around his neck. I know his body well enough now to know what each piece of him feels like. His mane is silky and soft, his neck fluffy and thick, his cheeks and ears velvety, and the rest of him is somehow a perfect combination of all of it. At night when I’m alone in my bedroom I shut my eyes and try to remember how every inch of him feels. His heat and his touch are permanently imprinted on me, making any absence of him that much harder to deal with.
Traits I initially had been startled by are now incredibly comforting. It’s strange, but I can’t picture him any other way. There’s no one hiding beneath his fur, or other form to shift into. There’s only Maddox. Perfectly wonderful, oddly beautiful, stupidly sexy Maddox.
Things I never thought possible are now things I can’t imagine no longer having. The way he holds me like I’m weightless and how right now as he embraces me he’s so big that his arms cover most of my torso. This very purring that hums deep in his chest when our bodies are close is a wordless reassurance of how he feels about me. In a way I can’t entirely explain, it’s like his more animalistic traits make this all feel more real somehow. When he growls with primal desire when we’re in bed or when he purrs with contentment in the afterglow of our lovemaking, there’s no question as to whether or not his reaction is authentic.
His muzzle burrows deeper in my neck and his hands travel to my ass, they grip each cheek just tight enough that I can feel the slight pinpricks of his claws below me. I sharply inhale then bury my own face into his neck, surrounding myself in his softness and pine scent. We’re intertwined like a vine wrapping around an oak tree. He kisses along my shoulders and neck, each one savoring my taste.
“Maddox,” I whine, “am I crazy for feeling like you were made for me?”
“Not even a little,” he chuckles in reply. “I’m yours and you’re mine and we’re perfect for each other.”
His thumbs track along my nipples and I repeat with a gasp, “I’m yours. You’re mine .” That statement seems to drive him wild, because his cock is immediately in his hand and dragging precum along my slit.
“You’re mine, Maddox, and I need you to fuck me, fill me, knot me,” I moan.
“As you wish,” he answers and grabs my waist and flips me on top of him.
I straddle his waist, dropping myself centimeter by centimeter onto his cock. When it eases into me, it nearly fills me past my breaking point. I groan out his name, and he guides my hips to slide it out of me as I’m needy for more of him. Claws dig into my ass as he holds onto me with a vice grip.
My thighs tremble as I glide in and out. He’s jutting his hips with force and circling his claw around my clit. The sharp pain blurs into pleasure and I bite my lip to keep myself from screaming.
Quickly this rollercoaster is ascending to its precipice, and every move he makes brings me closer and closer to climax. He’s mine, I’m his. We’re moving together as one, we’re both feeling this passion as one. Never in my life have I felt so interconnected with a body.
I let the crashing orgasm wreck me entirely. He places a hand on my shoulder to keep me steady as I shake above him and he finishes inside me. His knot plugs me as I collapse atop him. My entire body trembles and I use his torso as a pseudo bed for myself. He’s mine, I’m his.