Page 19

FENROTHER

F inding food for my mate took longer than I intended.

I wasn’t sure what she might enjoy, so I brought all the meat I could find within the Yeavering.

My pizzle seemed to like the fact she was no longer wearing the garment supplied by my wardrobe even if I was somewhat irked she had decided to take it off.

Especially when she wanted it in the first place.

It appears my pizzle preferred her without the garment, given the way it is swelling…

again.

I’m going to have to stop it from behaving in this manner.

It is distinctly distracting.

Especially when a halfling Faerie witch invades my home.

“I thought you were raised here alone?” Alice demands.

“So, who the hell is she?”

She’s pointing to where the witch stood.

Where there is now a text which is not one of mine.

“I have been alone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognise a witch, or any other inhabitant of the Yeavering,” I say.

“I go out. People know of the Wyrm.”

“Obviously.”

“But it wasn’t always the case. For many years, I was too small to leave,” I add.

“And Meg of Maldon provided assistance on occasion.”

Alice goes very quiet.

Her little hands are by her side, not pounding on my chest like before.

I rather liked it.

“What did you do in the Night Lands?”

“I killed demons.” I keep my eyes open because I know if I close them, I will see the battles and smell the blood.

“Just demons?”

“I killed what I was supposed to kill.”

I don’t want to discuss this anymore.

I want my mate to try the food I’ve brought.

I want her to put the garment back on, although…

The fabric she has wound herself with has slipped, and the lumps on her chest, including the bright pink peaks which adorn them, are slightly exposed.

I find myself wanting to consume them, which is very odd.

Alice follows my gaze.

“Oh!” she exclaims, her mouth making a perfect ‘o’ and for some reason my pizzle jerks further up, harder than ever.

She pulls at the towel, but I have my claws in it, and instead of it covering her more, it unwinds, and she’s left clutching it to herself, with much of her creamy skin exposed.

And she still has no weapons, which I am pleased about.

I probably should check her for weapons every time she takes the garment off.

For reasons I can’t quite fathom, I want to inspect between her legs.

I pluck the fabric away from her.

“Seriously, !” She pulls it back against herself and glares at me.

“Don’t do that!”

I like her defiance even more than I want to go between her legs, as does my pizzle, which has taken on a life of its own since yesterday.

I release the towel, and by association, her, and Alice flounces off back towards my bedroom with a stare over her shoulder at me.

Or at least until she realises I’m looking at the other globes she possesses, the ones on her rear.

Then she shoves the sheet over them, and I release a disappointed grunt.

Inside the bedroom, Alice makes a shriek which causes my wings to flare and my shift to nearly happen on its own.

Within a wing beat, I am in the room and ready for anything the Yeavering might wish to bring down on me or my mate.

Alice is stood at the side of the bed, her hand spread out on the covers as she makes another squealing sound.

“She’s left underwear!” she finally says as I heave my breath behind her.

“What is underwear?”

Alice turns with some tiny garments in her hands.

They do not look like anything I’ve seen before.

Some parts are spun like spiders’ webs, and some are solid but made out of what looks like silk.

I feel my body heat like I’m about to go into battle.

“Look!” she exclaims. “Knickers!”

I growl.

I’m not sure about these knickers .

Could they be weapons?

Their flimsy nature suggests otherwise, but then I did discover this female wearing a weapons holster undergarment when she was given to me.

Even as I contemplate the underwear , the door to the wardrobe pops open in a way which has my wings nearly flapping out of their sockets.

Alice runs over to it before I can stop her and makes yet more noises which could be her being killed.

I grab the door of the wardrobe, ready to wrench it off, only to discover it is filled with garments, unlike its usual disposition which is to provide me with what I need when I need it.

Which is usually a pair of trousers when mine have become too uncomfortable with blood and dirt to wear anymore.

Now it is filled to bursting with fragrant smelling items and Alice is running her hands over them with undisguised glee.

I would rethink my garment policy for her, only she seems excited and something else, something I haven’t seen before.

Not from her or from anyone around me.

She seems happy.

And so am I.