Page 17 of Foxin’ Around (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Chapter

Sixteen

D espite enjoying passing the days reading with Krystal, Syrix was relieved when the rain let up. It poured in a torrential downfall for several days before the clouds parted and the sun deigned to reappear, giving relief to both of them. The rain not only muffled the clarity of his senses, but it had made Krystal increasingly nervous as each day passed, despite the enjoyment she found in reading and teaching him her human games. It was as if the entire time, some part of her was waiting to hear another terrible scream from the woods. They never spoke of it, but she seemed to understand as well as he did that the lamia was taking advantage of the gloom to move through the woods around the cabin, watching them.

Squinting against the late morning light, he opened the door and frowned at the gruesome “gift” left on the porch. The decapitated head of the deer lay in a puddle of blood, its antlers twined with flowers from his gardens as if in mockery of the sightless eyes that scavengers had already plucked out in the course of the early hours of the morning while he and Krystal slept. The ruin of the eyes just added to the terrible display as the stag’s mouth gaped with its last silent scream, its tongue hanging out from between its flat teeth. He sighed inwardly. Another thing to dispose of.

The lamia’s “gifts” had begun with the death of the human but had proceeded from there.

Of course, every morning he disposed of the gruesome “gifts” that the lamia had left on the porch every night since she killed the human. Not more human remains, thankfully. It seemed that she was not so fortunate as to come across another crossing through his woods, but torn apart pieces of animals were just as unpleasant to deal with. He plucked the skull up with one hand and descended from the porch at a fast clip, carrying it into the forest. It didn’t take him long to arrive at the thick mass of bushes that he utilized for hiding the evidence far from the little game trails and paths that Krystal might wish to explore. A snarl upon his lips, he chucked it unceremoniously into the growth and returned to the cabin.

The lamia’s games were becoming tiresome.

At least he was the one to discover them. His mate did not venture outside until the sun was well up with the lamia lurking nearby, so he was able to dispose of them, even in the pouring rain, before Krystal caught a glimpse of them. Krystal did not know about the tokens the lamia left, and he intended to keep it that way.

Syrix entered the cabin quietly with every intention of closing the door silently behind him but froze when his gaze collided with that of his mate. Krystal’s eyebrows rose curiously as she warmed herself in front of the stove, a steaming cup of tea held between her hands.

“You were out early,” she observed around a yawn.

“It is not so early.” He smiled at her as he joined her, reaching past her head to remove a cup from the cupboard for his own tea. She looked deliciously warm and rumpled, the sight of which made him yearn to curl up in bed with her to wile away the day. “Did you just wake up?”

The corner of her mouth hitched, and she shook her head. “I’ve been awake for a while, reading in bed.” Her head tipped inquisitively. “You didn’t mention what you were doing out there.”

“I did go out,” he agreed, mentally scrambling for the best excuse as she eyed him and sipped her tea. “The weather broke early this morning, it seems, and it looks like it will be a sunny day. It will be a wonderful afternoon to enjoy one of our walks.”

“That sounds great… but what were you just now doing out there?” she drawled emphatically. “I heard you leave so I know that you were out there for a while, but I can’t figure out why. And please do not insult my intelligence by saying that you were out there jogging, or something. I’ve not once seen you go out for a jog or doing anything that is explicitly exercise other than to go hunting… and never dressed like that,” she added, gesturing to his outer robe.

He glanced down at himself and hissed under his breath as he noted the tiny splatters of blood dotting his sleeve. He gathered the material in his hand in an unsuccessful attempt to hide it, but cursed when the red splatters only seemed to gather together and become more visible along the bunched fabric.

“Is that blood?”

The sharp note in his mate’s voice startled him and he immediately released his sleeve with a guilty grimace. “Would you believe that it is a stain from raspberries?” he queried as she set her cup on the counter and hurried toward him.

To his surprise, she actually made to grab for him. It might have elated him and tempted him to play but the situation was far too earnest, and he was not quick enough to evade her completely other than the dance out of the way.

“That is not raspberries,” she snapped in exasperation as she reached for him again. “Hold still so I can make sure that you’re not bleeding.”

“I am not!” he yelped just as his mate caught his arm and twisted it brutally so that she could get a good look at it.

She shoved up his sleeve and frowned at his smooth skin before lowering the material and lifting it to inspect the little splatters. He groaned to himself when she stared hard at the larger splatters toward the outer side of his sleeve that he had not even noticed. Transferring the material to one hand, she snatched his other sleeve and lifted it, her eyes widening at the even larger splatters he had failed to notice altogether on the inside of that arm. Her blue eyes lifted to rest on him grimly.

“What the fuck is this, Syrix? And don’t even think about lying to me.”

He lifted an eyebrow, unable to resist challenging her. “Or? What kind of fiendish thing might you do to me if I dared to lie? Will you not be worried that I might like it?”

“Don’t be cute,” she replied blandly. “Unless you enjoy sharing a cabin with someone who won’t talk to you or spend more than five minutes in the same room as you until you can start being honest.”

He grimaced. “That is unfair and quite cruel.”

Being ignored and treated like a ghost by one’s own mate was perhaps the worst of punishments that he could even think of. Shunning was reserved among foxes for only the most serious trespasses.

“Try me. I’ve got plenty of practice talking to myself to keep me reasonably entertained for a while. Which of us will crack first?”

It seemed that she was serious. That was unfortunate.

“You will not like it,” he muttered. “It will make you afraid again.”

Something in her expression softened minutely and she sighed. “I’m already terrified. Every day that thing is out there, visions of a bloody death float behind my eyes every time I close them. I don’t think it can get much worse than it already is.”

“That is not a wager I would enjoy making.”

“But it’s my choice,” she replied, catching his gaze with hers. “I love that you want to protect me, but there is a big difference between protecting me and keeping secrets from me about important things.”

All things considered, that was pretty damning for him overall, but he was now frightened to confess his biggest secret. Though she couldn’t see them, his fox ears flattened as he regarded her, but she stared right back at him, her gaze boring a hole through him, demanding everything. He shrank back uncomfortably, his mind working frantically to discover some small trick or pleasure that might distract her from the matter at hand. Nothing presented itself and he found himself growing more panicked.

“Syrix… please. If you are freaking out because you’re trying to shelter me from the lamia, then just stop. I need you to tell me. I’ve seen firsthand what she is capable of just a few days ago. Nothing is going to shock me, and as I’ve said, I’m already frightened, so what more can it possibly do?”

“I dislike this,” he grumbled. “And I do not agree. Fears do not need to be compounded upon each other. You have seen enough.”

She expelled a long breath. “So… she has done something, and you don’t want me to see it.”

He grimaced. She got that out of him far too easily but perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps this one thing would be enough to satisfy her for now and would be penance toward his much larger omission. In any case, telling her and making her aware of it did not oblige him to show her anything, now or in the future, that he might wish to protect her from seeing. From the hall he could see Fixi slipping out after Fata. The male paused for a moment to peer up at him judgmentally and Syrix just barely kept himself from baring his teeth at him. What right did a common fox, who understood little, have to judge him? It would be many lifetimes before Fixi would understand what it was like to be in exactly this position.

“Syrix.”

“Yes,” he growled unhappily, his gaze tearing away from the fox to meet his mate’s gaze. He was aware of the fact that Fixi used the opportunity to make his escape, but it did not matter now. Closing his eyes, he drew a calming breath and inclined his head in agreement as his eyes slowly opened and focused on her. “Yes, you are right. Ever since her first bloody gift, the lamia has returned every morning in the early hours to leave other tokens for us to find, but unlike the case with the human she hunted, she is venturing onto the porch to leave them at our door. It is… not pleasant.”

Krystal’s face went pale, her eyes quickly dropping to stare over his shoulder at the door. He could almost sense the flurry of thoughts going through her head, but she swallowed and nodded bravely as her gaze lifted to meet his.

“O… okay,” she replied, stumbling over her words. “So, you… took care of it?”

“Yes, I disposed of it every morning.”

“Okay. And what was it? This morning, I mean.”

He sighed, unhappy with the direction of conversation. He had hoped that she would not wish to hear details. Thankfully, he did not get very far in his description before she threw up a hand to stop him and pressed her fingers to her lips as she swallowed sickly. He regarded his mate in sympathetic silence, waiting for her to tell him what she needed.

“Sweetheart—”

“I’m okay,” she rushed to assure him with a wobbly smile. “I wanted to know, so thank you.”

He slowly nodded, his gaze never shifting from her.

“Is it… is it safe to go outside now? Now that the rain has stopped.”

His lips curled and he nodded again. “Do you wish to enjoy some fresh air? We can go now if you like. So long as the sun shines brightly down, the lamia will keep to her dark burrow, and we will be left to our peace.”

Her expression relaxed and a genuine smile flitted at the corners of her mouth. “I would like that. But perhaps not the lake, if you don’t mind. I’ve been having weird dreams and would rather not be reminded of them. But the gardens would be lovely and a walk out to the meadow.”

“Then consider it done,” he murmured, taking her hand. He nodded to her cup with a warm smile. “Finish your drink while I change into something less unpleasant and then we can go.”

Krystal nodded and took a gulp of tea. “I should change too. You probably want your clothes back if you are ruining the ones you have,” she teased.

Syrix gripped her hand and shook his head. “Unnecessary. My clothing has never looked better than it does on you.”

He peered down at her, his smile growing at the way his tunic stretched a little snug across her breasts and his pants clung to her thighs. He had stitched the tail seam in the back so as to not give anything way and truthfully, they graced her ass in the finest vision he had ever seen. Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm and smiled against the smooth surface at her quick indrawn breath.

“I will return. Wait right here for me.”

She nodded, a slightly dazed look in her eyes, and he grinned as he gently released her hand and stepped away. It was with a light step that he returned to his room, eager to begin the next round in their game. His sweet little mate did not have a clue just how close to precipice of love she was standing. She just needed a little nudge, and he could not wait until she fell.