Page 5

5

Pixie

I wake on the sofa by the fire. A blanket has been laid over me, and the smell of a cooked breakfast has my mouth salivating. Archie and Dorian are talking in hushed tones in the kitchen, a tone of unease clear in their voices. Rolling over and stretching, I groan, realising why they’re speaking in such a melancholy way.

Deep cracks have been carved into the ceiling, and huge thorns have become overgrown on our walls.

‘Ohhhh…’ I groan. ‘That’s not good.’

‘Morning, Pixie.’

I look over to see Shaw rolling up a piece of parchment and tying it up with a bow.

‘My nightmare must have been pretty bad then.’

‘It was a tad prickly.’

He winks, thinking his play on words is very clever indeed. I roll over and press my fingers into the earth below. The cracks heal. The thorns shrivel up, and the gold leaves, holly and berries return.

Shaw watches me momentarily and is about to say something when Archie and Dorian walk in. They each have two plates and offer one to me and Shaw.

‘So what’s on the agenda today, Arch?’ Dorian asks as I tear into some toast. ‘Tomorrow is Christmas day. I’m sure you have something else you want to get done.’

‘Yep. Today, Dorian. We’re catching a turkey.’

‘Catching a what?’ Dorian asks.

‘A turkey. You know. A big bird that loves to gobble gobble almost as much as Pix does.’

I tut and throw him a warning look.

‘It’s the main meat for the dinner tomorrow. I saw some a couple of miles away in a wooded pasture.’ He claps his hands together in excitement. ‘They taste bloody amazing.’

I shudder as he starts mimicking snapping the bird’s neck.

‘We’ll all head out and find one. Slaughter it. Prep it and cook it tomorrow for dinner.’ He shoves some cooked meat into his mouth with a grin as I grimace at the imagery he’s conjured.

‘Of all people, I am still amazed at how squeamish you are around blood and dead animals.’

‘Just because I like to eat the meat doesn’t mean I want to see it slaughtered. Besides. I still have nightmares about those rats you stuck my hand in.’ I actually wretch at the memory

‘Pop your comfy boots on, Pix. We’ll be walking for a while today.’

‘As enticing an offer it is, you know, to walk for miles in the snow simply to find a bird to slaughter, perhaps the catching of the turkey should be a male tradition. I’ll stay here, keep the fire going, read a book and maybe knit a scarf. That can be my tradition.’

‘You don’t know how to knit for shit,’ Dorian scoffs. ‘And last time you tried, you got angry, bent your knitting needles into knots and tossed the lot in the fire because your hat looked like a napkin.’

‘Well then, I’ll knit a napkin. Maybe I’ll manage three so you can have one each.’ I stand and kiss them each on the cheek. ‘Have fun, my loves. I’ll be thinking of you as I relax by the fire.’

I turn away and head up the stairs.

Closing the door, or what’s left of it after the shadow form of Dorian exploded through it, I enjoy listening to the three of them happily discuss the plan. Archie mentions some spices he wants to find to make something called mulled wine, and every effort is made to put what happened with Shaw and me behind us. The house still stands. We all do. That’s a win in my book.

I open the window and take a deep inhale of that icy air, relishing the smell of pine and moss dancing in the breeze. My connection to the magic in the earth has continued to grow and bloom. Each day that passes fills me with strength, power, and a deeper understanding of its vast possibilities.

The tips of my fingers rest over the first cut Shaw pressed into my skin. The wound is almost healed and I wonder at the fact that I mend so quickly without the need for blood magic or the blood from their veins.

I’m powerful in my own right. And it feels fantastic not to depend on others for strength.

As I continue looking out of the window, a tiny robin lands on the ledge. Its bright red chest starkly contrasts the pure white that continues to fall outside.

‘Hello,’ I whisper, slowly reaching out my hand. The bird slowly hops closer before perching on my finger. I lift her and admire her beautiful feathers, lightly dusted with snow.

She chirps and tilts her head, making me smile at her obvious curiosity. Her focus shifts suddenly, and when I feel the familiar slither of scales on my other wrist, she takes off for the forest beyond.

I lift my hand to see Poppy. She curls around me as she so often does, and I lift her to be level with my face.

‘Morning,’ I greet. ‘And a warm Christmas Eve to you, Poppy.’

She reaches up, and I meet her. A feeling of completion grows at her touch. A spark of connection, not just to her but to her heart. Her intelligence. Her deep need to be with me and keep me safe. And, of course, to help me channel my access to the ancient magics of this place. Our noses touch, and a wave of love ripples between us.

And a question. Not spoken. But felt.

Are you okay?

‘I think so,’ I reply. ‘It was so real. Like Cole was really back.’

She nuzzles my face again in comfort. I close my eyes and soak it up.

There is a bowl of steamy water ready for me to wash. But the outside is just too tempting.

‘Want to go practice?’ I whisper, keen to leave this room where Cole was about to shove a dagger between my legs.

She nods, and I swear she is grinning at the idea.

I put on a light blue dress and high boots before throwing on a fur-lined cloak and climbing through the window.

The guys are busy. So we will be, too.

As much as they have encouraged my earth magic, I can’t help but notice their unease when I push myself or try something new.

And I know they don’t like me wandering around alone.

But I’m not alone. I have Poppy.

Besides, this island is empty.

So I swing my legs over the ledge, and I jump.

A branch sways into my path, and I grip it to ease my fall. My feet land in the snow, and with a bubble of excitement in my chest, I run into the forest.

The branches part as I run. Poppy has repositioned herself at my neck to enjoy the falling snow to its full effect. I laugh as I leap from protruding roots that lift to give me more height. I relish in the freedom as branches reach out for me so they can carry me over great ravines. Vines wrap around my outstretched hands so I can swing over great walls of wild brambles. The snow crunches underfoot, and I taste it as it falls from the sky. The hem of my skirt is soaked, and my hair is a mess as it falls down my back.

But fuck… this is freedom. This is real magic. Living in the wild and the wild loving you. No coven rules. No orders from elders. No expectations or limits on what I can or can’t do.

The trees know I pass. The buds on sleeping bushels bloom. And the canopy above sways as if in a slow dance.

I finally stop when I reach a secluded pool of water fed by a rushing waterfall.

Oh. I do love a waterfall. The sound of the rushing water reminds me of Archie taking my virginity.

Now… that was a good day.

I strip and place my dress over an oak branch, which lowers to take it for me.

‘Thank you,’ I tell it, my hand resting against the bark. It groans in response. ‘Off you get, Poppy. You won’t enjoy the cold.’

She slithers off me and settles on a rock.

Naked, I stand on the edge of the pool. Its edges are covered in a sheet of thin ice. I break it easily and step into the water.

‘Oh shit!’ I laugh, feeling the iciness explode in every cell.

The spray of water from the waterfall is painfully cold. But beautifully fresh. Each droplet is a reminder that I’m alive. That I’m here and free to feel. To exist in my own skin. To control it as I wish. I want to be cold. It takes me far from the heat of blood. Of Hel and her prison realm. When she took control of my body, I was burning. When my coven owned me, I was stifled and trapped.

Go here. Do this. Say nothing. Feel what we tell you to feel. Be fucked by who we tell you to be fucked by.

Marry your abuser and shut your mouth.

If they could see me now, naked and owning the earth magic they so coveted, they would no doubt take great pleasure in cutting off my head.

And if they tried, I would love what would happen to them if they did. Not only my retribution, but my familiar and my lovers would not be so kind as to offer them a swift death.

I take a deep breath, my lungs filling with icy air, and dive in.

My body hits the water, and it fills my ears. It fills all my senses, and when I emerge, I let out a blissfully shocked scream followed swiftly by a fierce bout of laughter.

‘FUCK!’ I laugh loudly. ‘That is fucking COLD!’ My words echo all around me, as do my continued giggles.

But wow. I feel so fucking alive! The water continues to cascade over the jutting rocks above. The snow continues to fall. And my breath lingers with every tight gasp I produce.

I swim, gliding through the water with stiff limbs and a trembling body.

And then I float, facing the grey sky above that weeps flakes of white.

I hope the guys are having fun together chasing a turkey. The idea has me smiling to myself. But then I see Cole coming at me and the look of self-hatred on Shaw’s face when he realised what he had done.

It’s not only my past that haunts us. All of our pasts do.

But my greatest pain still remains them. Their faces as my heart broke in that circle of blood and bones. Their betrayal when they forced me to bring Neve and her sisters back. Their faces as I suffered the executions of my mother and aunts.

I know that they are sorry. I know it haunts them, too.

This is why I need to replace those images with others which don’t fill me with fear.

I want to be brave when I see a knife.

I want to feel trust when their hands are at my throat, controlling my breath and blood flow.

I want to feel safe when they lie atop me.

But that all seems so far out of reach.

I take a deep breath and sink beneath the water's surface, hiding from the fact that I may never achieve this.

Because greater than all of that, I never want them to look at me with pity and as though I’m some delicate creature to be coddled and protected.

As I lie beneath the water's surface, I see the unmistakable silhouette of a dark shadow with great wings sneakily swoop over my head.

Slowly, I return to the surface, the top of my head poking out of the water, just in time to see the edges of his robes disappear behind the largest of the trees surrounding us.

I swim out of the water as silently as I can. He’s so fixated on the water, waiting for me to reappear, that he doesn’t notice me sneaking up behind him. His great fingers grip the broad trunk as he slowly risks a peek around it.

I reach up on tiptoes to tap him on his shoulder, and the great beast goes rigid before slowly turning to find me smugly smiling behind him with my hands cupped behind my back.

‘You know, you’re a giant creature of shadow with huge wings. The forest is a blanket of white. If you wanted to sneak around and watch me, it's probably best you stayed in your other form. And even then…’ I pick out a twig from his cloak. ‘You’re hard to miss, Dorian.’

He turns to face me fully. My head tilts right back so I can hold his gaze, and the tips of my wet hair go past my bare backside. And all the while, I cannot stop smirking.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be catching a turkey for our Christmas dinner?’

‘And aren’t you supposed to be knitting me a napkin? Why are you running around out here on your own without telling us?’

‘I just wanted some air,’ I reply.

‘Then come with us to catch the turkey. That’s plenty air enough.’

‘I wanted some air alone, Dorian,’ I correct, making it clear.

‘Are we such bad company?’

‘No. Of course not!’ I insist. ‘I just want to catch my breath and organise my thoughts. That’s all.’

‘What thoughts?’

I raise my brow.

‘I already have Archie hearing my thoughts, Shaw in my dreams, and you feeling my every feeling. Sometimes, I like to just be on my own. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t see you?’ I laugh.

‘You hadn’t before,’ he replies, his voice an ethereal darkness that rumbles from his chest. He lowers his hooded head slowly, revealing his ancient form beneath. ‘I’m very sneaky when I want to be.’

I reach up and rest my palm on his cheek. His skin shimmers like oils on water, and I will never tire of it. He is so fucking beautiful.

Even though most others would scream in terror at his presence, I find him something worthy of worship.

He leans into my touch, lowering his head a little so I don’t have to stretch so far.

‘Do you follow me often?’ I ask.

‘Can I lie to spare my dignity?’

‘No lies. You know the rules.’

‘Yes. I follow you often. Whenever you think you have run alone, I have been right behind you. Watching.’ He sweeps the hair from my face with his elongated finger.

‘Every time?’ My smile falters. ‘You have followed me every time ?’

He nods. I pull back a little. ‘That’s not fair.’

He catches my wrist, refusing to allow me another inch of distance.

‘I cannot stand the idea of anything happening to you,’ he says. ‘I confess. It takes all I have not to bind you to the bed and lock the doors. Seal the windows. And never leave you alone for a second.’

‘Dorian. That’s not okay.’

‘I assure you I will not. I have settled for watching over you instead.’

Like that’s a perfectly reasonable compromise and stealing any privacy or moment alone is just something that I have to get used to and accept.

‘Stalking me. Following me.’ He releases my hand, and I walk past him back to the pool, where I retake my dress and slide it on. He follows but keeps his distance. ‘I’m safe, Dorian. And even if I were in trouble, you would know. You would feel it. I’m entitled to be alone sometimes.’ Dressed, I turn to face him. ‘Do you understand that? That you following me and spying on me is unacceptable?’

I can’t see his face beneath his hood. He stands there silently. I reach down so Poppy can return to the warmth of my cloak.

‘I’m going for a walk. Alone. Please. Don’t follow me.’

I start to leave, pulling the cloak around me and attempting to ignore the annoyance he’s brought with him. Every walk. Every piece of solitude. He’s been there for all of them, lurking out of sight.

My body stops as if trapped in stone, and I can’t move a muscle.

Dorian stops in front of me, my poppet doll in his grip. Ever the control freak. Even now, he has to have command over my actions. I can’t even storm off in peace.

I wait for his words. For his explanation. Or for him to tell me why he’s right and I’m wrong.

‘Don’t leave.’

His words are barely a whisper. They seep from beneath that hood and seem to travel the length of my spine straight to my heart. It’s a quiet but desperate plea, and coming from a monster like him, it’s unsettling. Similar to a lion meowing like a frightened kitten.

I don’t respond. I don’t say anything at all but wait for him to explain.

‘I saw you die,’ he says as if he’s confessing some shameful secret. ‘I felt it. A life without you. The hole you left behind. And then I got you back, but I still felt it. I still do. I thought death was something to fear. I believed the goddess Hel was the worst thing to happen to me. But neither compared to the moments I thought I had lost you. When I faced not seeing you ever again. When Cole took you, and I knew he was hurting you, that was still not as crushing as those moments when you were gone, and I know that if you die again, I will never get you back. And I will have nothing to live for.’

I rest my hand on his cheek, my heart and resolve to be pissed off softened by his confession. But I sense such anger ripple between us, not at me, but at the world.

‘If I lost you…’ His long fingers curl around my wrist. ‘My beautiful, wild little witch. I would have nothing left to live for.’

‘You’re not going to lose me, Dorian. And even if you did, you would survive it.’

‘Perhaps. But nothing else would survive my loss of you.’

His words feel like a threat. They come out through gritted teeth and a tense jaw as his eyes burn with a dark promise. As if he holds it against me. That I would be to blame for whatever darkness he would spread.

‘What are you saying?’ I whisper.

‘I would give into the shadows if I lost you.’

‘No. Don’t say that.’

‘I would gladly become the monster I was. Worse than the monster I was because I would gladly fall into that darkness again and drown in the pull of vengeance and pain. Because then it wouldn’t be my pain I was feeling. It would belong to the souls I stole. And I would be gone. And I would destroy everything because all I loved was taken from me.’

His words make my insides cold because every one of them is his painful truth. And I’m given a terrifying realisation that I am all that stands between this monster and the world.

‘So I will follow you. And I will watch you. And I will feel everything you feel even though you asked me not to. I will be your shadow for the rest of time. Because I have finally found peace, and I will not lose it. I will either be your shadow master. Or I will be their end. There is no in-between. There is no other choice.’

I should be angry at his confession. At his decree that I will never know a moment of solitude again because his darkness is my responsibility.

But I’m not. I should be, but I’m just… not.

I’m honoured and desired. Protected and coveted. All the things I never had before these three crazy beings came into my life. And as I look up at him, my darkness incarnate, death encased in such a beautiful form, I know.

He is mine. All fucking mine.

The ground beneath me swells and rises me up so my forehead can meet with his. He looks into my eyes with a ferocious intensity. I used to think it was threatening. That it was a sign of imminent violence.

Now, I see it as a desperate plea to be heard. To be accepted. To be loved.

‘I accept your shadows. Your darkness. And I will take responsibility for your sanity.’ I raise my brow. ‘If you accept responsibility for mine.’

‘It seems like an unfair exchange.’

‘You’re right. It is. You saw what an angry earth god was capable of, after all. Me, as a wrathful god, kinda made you look like a pussy cat. I’d say you have the shittier end of the stick if you ask me.’

His lips curl into a smile, as do mine. Our two souls are laid bare. Our inner fears are given to the other to protect and keep safe. Our monsters are guarded by each other.

‘I’ll accept. My wild little witch.’

‘Goddess.’

His smile widens.

‘Don’t push it. You will always be my poppet doll.’

My fingers curl around his. My doll rests in his grip. And when he feels my continued pressure, his eyes narrow.

‘Not today,’ he says, pulling the doll from my reach and slipping it beneath the ethereal robes covering his body. ‘I know you want me to crush you so you can get past the nightmares and flashbacks, but I’m not ready to.’

‘When will you be ready to?’ I ask.

He steps back and turns away.

‘Carry on with your exploration, Poppet. I’ll stay out of sight.’

A ridiculous sentiment, considering his sheer size and the darkness he embodies.

He stops suddenly when he feels the snowball I toss hit him in the back of the head.

He turns with intentional slowness to find me whistling and looking around with about as much nonchalance as if I were holding a written sign, confessing I was the one who threw it.

A snowball hits me in the shoulder far softer than I threw mine.

I stare at him, mouth open, before all hell breaks loose and we’re hurling snowballs at one another with a passion. His laughter, although a deep, low and demonic rumble, warms my heart and fills me with sheer joy.

I throw myself behind a tree to take cover, narrowly missing one to the face.

My fingers caress the bark, and the tree shudders, raining down chunks of snow from the branches above and dumping it all on his head.

‘That’s cheating!’

‘Natural advantage,’ I correct.

I peek out from the trunk. He's not there. Not a trace. I stand and step out, searching for him.

‘Dorian?’

Poppy darts out from my cloak and disappears into the bushes.

‘Where are you going?’

I see him too late as he swoops from the sky and ploughs into me.

Oh. That’s why she slithered away.

Dorian’s arms wrap around my waist, and my feet leave the floor. I yelp as he takes flight, soaring upwards into the sky. His black wings beat steadily yet hardly at all as I cling to him and the cold air forces its way down my throat.

I love to fly. It’s my absolute favourite thing to do and he often pulls it out as a distraction technique. He stays just above the treetops, and I snuggle into his robes, seeking out a barrier from the wind howling past me and the falling snow as he glides us through the air.

I watch him as he looks below, taking in the canopy of white. His enjoyment is an honour to watch.

I kiss his neck, my lips meeting his skin and staying there as I trail more delicate kisses up to his jaw.

My hands go between his legs, and he looks down at me with a dark look.

He doesn’t even blink as I take him in my hand and start to work him. His length in this form is… extreme. It’s unmanageable, in truth, by several excessive inches. But I can’t help but want him. All of him.

He’s a beautiful monster.

‘You want to play?’ I whisper, my thumb softly gliding over the tip of his ever-growing cock.

‘Poppet. I want to make it hard for you to walk for several days.’ He grips my hips. ‘Lift your skirt.’

Ever the good girl, I obey, hoisting it up around my waist. I grip his shoulders and take a deep breath.

‘Let’s see how much you can take this time before you beg me to stop.’

It’s not just the length, but his girth that fills me with a mixture of terror and determination.

My legs wrap around him, and I take a readying breath as he rests himself at my already soaking pussy.

‘Don’t drop me.’

‘I will never let you go.’ His grip on my waist tightens. ‘I will never, not now nor in the many years to come, let you leave me.’

‘That sounded more of a threat than a promise,’ I grin. ‘ Shadow Daddy .’

A low growl rumbles from his chest as I use that name for him. It’s a firm favourite and always guarantees a reaction.

‘Damn right it was, Poppet. Now shut the fuck up and scream as I fill you up.’

He lowers me down, impaling me slowly with his intense size.

I don’t hold back and give him what he wants. My screams. My fingernails dig into his shoulders as I struggle to take him in. As I stretch, my flesh burns at the intrusion.

‘Louder,’ he hisses, watching as my mouth falls open and my eyes widen. The shock his cock creates drives the lust in his eyes wild, and a glimmer of the dark monster inside shines through. He goes in another inch or so, and tears brim in my eyes.

But I refuse to say stop.

‘A bit more, I think,’ he growls, lowering me onto him with a firm tug.

I scream out, and the tears seep past my eyes.

‘Beg me to stop.’

He stills and searches my eyes, wondering if I’m at my limit.

‘Never, Shadow Daddy.’

I clamp my thighs down, and with a determined moan, I lower myself down further.

His long fingers slide to my lower stomach and press against my abdomen.

‘A little more. You can do it, Poppet Doll. Take me in a little deeper.’

I swallow and nod, letting him slide me further down his length.

I moan his name in a plea. I want him. Need him. But I don’t know if I can take much more.

My fingers slip beneath his hood to feel the inky shimmering of his cheek. And with my other hand, I press his fingertips further into my stomach.

‘Dorian…’ I moan again, my desperation and need dripping through every syllable. ‘I want to feel you on the outside. Do it.’

His eyes dart left to right, the uncontrollable beast longing to drive himself in as far as possible. And the man beneath who never wants to cause me an ounce of suffering.

I rest my nose against his.

‘You can love and protect me. But I sometimes want you to fuck me like you hate me.’ His eyes shine at my words. ‘I love it when you make me your whore.’

He grips me tightly and pulls me down. Further and further. He never looks away as my mouth falls open in a hollow and silent scream.

I could say stop.

I don’t want to.

I never want to say it again.

And when I finally feel his skin meet mine, I fill with triumphant pride.

That, and giant shadow daddy dick.

He blinks up at me, and we share a moment of disbelief.

I did it! I took him in his entirety!

‘I’m all the way inside you,’ he whispers.

It is the hottest fucking thing in this entire world.

He lets out a breath, and another growl ripples from his chest.

‘Fuck me,’ he commands.

As he flies above my forests, I ease myself up and down his cock. The snow continues to fall, and the air is bitter. But my body is alight with pleasure and pain. It hums with need and sways to the submission I have handed over.

My body is his to own. To ruin. To ravish. To fill up and fuck until I buckle and break. And so is my heart. My dear shadow daddy. My demon of death. My heart and soul. I love him completely, and he loves me just as violently in return.