Page 4 of Cruel As A Tree (Chaos God Sugar and Spice Companion Shorts #4)

Chapter

Four

LORTHION

L illian reached out a hand as we strolled, her palm brushing against the glowing purple petals of a bulbous flower shaped like an orb with its inner glow shining through the cracks between its connected petals.

The flower bent under her touch before she released it, letting it swing up in the air, bobbing back and forth.

Her palm caught a dusting of pollen on the outside of the petals, which she brushed against the next flower she passed.

"Why does it glow?" she asked. "The flower? It's midday, isn't it?"

She looked up at the sun that shone directly overhead, its warm rays muted by the thick green and purple canopy.

"It glows all the time," I said. "During the day, its petals remain folded up like that and at night they open and illuminate everything around them."

"It's lovely," she said, a bright smile on her face as she glanced over at me.

"You are lovely," I told her as I studied her face, seeing the pulsing network of magic that hummed beneath her skin.

I hadn't ever had a mundane enter my forest before.

I knew the risk would grow greater as my forest grew closer to the walls of the school, even though I stayed well away from the main road and the entrance.

Any student escaping would run the risk of colliding with my borders.

She wasn't what I expected. The sirens had told me that the mundanes were fearful.

She didn't act afraid or smell of fear. The moment her eyes fell on me, all I smelled was her lust, calling to me the way a siren never could.

She flushed in response to my gaze and looked down at the ground, stepping carefully over a root as she avoided my eyes.

"Tell me, Lord Lorthion," she said, emphasizing the word Lord. "Why couldn't I see your forest? There is lava and shit. I mean, excuse my language, the land looks as if it would be impossible for plants to thrive. How is your forest even able to grow?"

"The land needs the forest," I said, taking a concept that was integral to my very being and trying to put it into words. "Life is Chaos, and so my seed was planted in response to Order scouring the land. The land needs the forest and the forest needs to be hidden to grow, so I hide as I grow."

"Are you a plant then? Like, are you a tree fae or something like that?

" she asked, reaching out to lightly touch the underside of a young platform mushroom that jutted from the side of a tree above our heads.

She stroked her fingertips along its frills, and I let my senses drift out so that I felt the touch like it was my own skin.

The sensation was delicious. She wasn't one of the many creatures or plants that made up me.

Her touch was the touch of someone other than myself, and the sensation was unique in its gentleness.

"I am the forest lord," I said.

We walked past the underside of the mushroom, and there was a large fruiting tree. I had kept its lower branches intact and fed so that some of my shorter animals could reach them, and the plump, round yellow fruit hung down in gorgeous ripe globes.

"I am from the Mundane Realm," she said. "And I don't know anything about what forest lords are."

I was not used to speaking with others, even if I had the words to do so. It was easier to explain with actions. My eyes fell on the fruit.

"Pick one," I said, pointing at the fruit.

She reached up and wrapped her hand around one of the globes, her palms soft and sensitive as she pulled gently on the ripe body. It came free, and I felt the shiver of relief that accompanied an offering being taken so it no longer had to be supported by the energy of the trunk anymore.

She pressed her nose against it and smelled it.

"You see the fruit and know it looks good," I said.

"You smell the fruit and know it smells edible.

A forest lord is the sight and smell, the hand that reaches and the mouth that tastes.

The forest is the blood and bones and body, while the forest lord is the mind that decides how best to grow and what to taste. "

"Is it edible?" she asked.

"It is edible for your kind," I told her.

She bit into the skin.

"It's delicious," she moaned. She took another bite and green juice ran down the corners of her cheeks, dripping down towards her chin.

She giggled and let go of my arm so she could reach up to wipe it, but she only managed to get a little before more dribbled down with the next bite.

The Saffrill unwrapped her tail from the human's neck, pulling it out of the way of the mess.

I leaned down and licked the juice off her chin, tasting the edge of her jawbone.

She let out a gasp and tilted her head to the side, exposing the side of her jugular to me.

Juice dribbled down and I chased it, tasting the sweet nectar as I felt the heat of her blood throb through the soft skin of her neck.

I snaked my arm around her to hold her as I licked the flavor off of her, and her body melted against mine, soft and ripe like the fruit she consumed.

The scent of her desire filled the air again.

I wanted to run my hands down her body, to find the edge of her skirt and let my fingers explore underneath its boundaries.

But she had resisted before.

I knew how the animals within my boundaries procreated, both with courtship and aggression.

The males that attacked ran a risk of having the female fight against them, leading to injury on one or the other.

That wasn't what I needed. I would not get what I wanted simply from taking it, as fruit plucked before it was ready tasted bitter and held seeds not ready to be planted.

Ripeness was offered, not taken.

I lifted my head to see her eyes were half lidded, her chest heaving as one of her hands pressed against my chest, pushing slightly even as her fingers clenched at the fabric like she might pull me back if I let her go.

"You are all clean now," I told her.

I released her slowly, and she swallowed audibly, her eyes wide as she stared at me.

"I..." she said, her voice small as she lifted her free hand, juice still sticky on her fingers.

"Mmmm." I took her wrist and pulled her hand towards me so I could lick the juice from her skin, sucking it from her fingers as I swirled my tongue around them.

She let out a gasp and shifted her stance so her legs were closer together.

I let go of her wrist, enjoying the aroma that wafted up.

She bit her lip and gazed at me, her eyes tightening with intention.

Then she shifted again, sticking one of her legs forward as she held her fruit over it. Juice ran down the side as she squeezed, and several drops fell down to hit the soft skin on the inside of her knee.

"Oh no," she said. "I'm so messy."

I knelt down, and she sucked in a loud audible breath as my hand closed around her calf.

I took my time cleaning the juice from her skin, licking it several times to make sure she was nice and clean.

When I glanced up, I saw her other hand was gripping the bottom of her skirt.

She began to lift it, exposing the inside of her thigh.

The Saffrill on her shoulder let out a hiss, and Lillian let go of her skirt, stepping back from me even as the flush in her face deepened. She moved the fruit within the Saffrill's reach, and the tiny spritekin took it from her and began to munch on it with no dribble.

Lillian cleared her throat. "Veveron wants to see where we will be staying."

I rose to my feet, focusing my senses on the project I had started. I knew what Lillian would be to me the moment I scented her, and so she would live in the place that was the safest in the entire forest, my center. "Let me show you your home."

"Home?" she asked. "I thought... we don't want to impose."

She took a step back from me, like a deer uncertain whether it should flee or freeze.

"A place to rest," I amended. "You may stay as long as you like."

The branches of the tree behind Lillian curled towards her, reaching out as if they would snag her and hold her close. I didn't like saying those words, not when every part of me screamed that she was mine. Mine to keep. Mine to protect.

I relaxed the branches, calming them so they didn't grab her.

Courting was convincing, and she had asked to be convinced to stay, not forced to stay.

Part of convincing was her feeling that she could leave.

Even if I would never let her go.