Page 26 of Whisper Woods (Legends of the Whisper Woods #3)

Rafe

Seff sits beside me, his hand in mine on the arms of our chair. The simple touch is enough to rally me. My energy completely faded after the exertions of the day. It had been a long journey to the dragon fields, and then the portal, before travelling home. And the goodbye to Seff’s friends had been emotional on top of it all. Even though we promised we’d see them soon.

We are sitting around the small table in Lia’s private quarters. Lia has obviously joined us. Paler than usual, a haunted look in her eyes, only surpassed by steady determination. Grand Master Yorin also sits at the table, looking a decade older for the recent events. Concerningly, there is one unoccupied chair and a heavy sense of foreboding in the air.

“I cannot tell you how glad I am that you’re well.” Lia lays her hand on mine, resting atop the table.

I give her fingers a gentle squeeze, pointedly ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes. “And I you, Lia. But as glad as I am, should you not be resting?”

Almost on cue, there is a knock on the door and Lia smiles tightly at me and Seff.

“Yes, probably. But I feel like you need to be here for this.” Putting on her High Eminence mask, she calls out, “Enter!”

The door cracks open, and there, finally, is Brydon. I leap to my feet and rush to greet him, tears burning my eyes. He grunts when I pull him into the tightest hug imaginable, a laughing sob breaking from me.

“Need to breathe, Rafe.” He muffles against me, and I let him go just enough to get a good look at him. He looks tired, his aura more sombre than I’ve ever seen him. But physically he looks none the worse for his captivity .

“Are you okay?” I ask, my trembling hands squeezing his arms.

He nods, shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, Rafe. I’m okay.”

“We still have things to work through with the High Council, or what remains of it.” Lia interrupts gently. “But I wanted you here, Rafe. I thought, all things considered, it would be for the best whilst we discuss what has happened.”

I help Brydon to his seat and pour him a glass of water. He waves off my fussing, telling me to sit down.

“Brydon, the Council and the Orun reviewed everything… but we don’t quite understand.” Yorin opens the floor and Brydon takes it.

Leaning forward on his elbows, he twirls the engraved glass of water in his hand while he explains.

“My father, Heylor, he was going to kill us all. I had a sense of it before, but then after studying everything Rafe brought back, it became obvious that the Whisper Woods had moved Seff’s friends around like game pieces. But to what end? I couldn’t put it together until it all became clear. I think… I think it—the Woods—have wanted this for a long time. But they haven’t been able to. There were steps that had to be taken. The timing had to be right. We weren’t the only thing making the Woods sick. That fae you encountered.” He looks at Seff, who stiffens at the memory.

“She was the last piece in the Mundane. At first I thought she might be Tathissian, but I don’t think she was. I think she was just a fae who lived before the great wars and used the magic she knew from a long time ago to cheat death. She was draining the Woods of their magic. That magic corrupts all that is around it. It is why it is no longer practiced here, where we revere and preserve magic as we do. No doubt it is a skill long forgotten in the Mundane. No matter the cause, the Woods needed the right elements to defeat her—like putting together a potion. Your friends, together, were what it needed. In my Mundane history books, I’ve found other occasions where the Woods has intervened. And we’re not alone. Other sacred sites have gone through the same issues.” He takes a breath and shrugs .

“But that’s all whatever. I knew nothing was going to stop Heylor in his thirst for power. He never cared about Tathys, or the walls, or the Gods. All he wanted was control. The power. It was his birthright, he said. Due to bloodlines for the throne of the High Eminence being redrawn four centuries ago when there was no heir. My father’s family always felt slighted as they were overlooked. He waited his whole falyuk life for the right moment and when the walls began to fall, he knew this was it. The ability to take Tathys for himself like he always dreamed of. That he hated the Mundane was just extra justification for his greed. He wanted to find a way to seal us off again—no matter what it cost the Gods, or us—and take the throne. Lead Tathys into a new dawn under himself.”

“He didn’t know how, though. Secrets to such power have been long lost to us. I doubted it existed anywhere in the world. And then I saw the book. It had… everything. Everything he needed to destroy us. Destroy the Woods. Potentially magic itself. But the book was written over hundreds of years and used a complex mix of languages. Some dead. Some not. Most only a few of us can read.”

“I knew this was the one chance. And so I took it. I told Heylor I wanted to help him. That I had seen the light. He was so blindly arrogant, he believed me. I didn’t even have to try. And so… I made a copy of the book.”

He finally looks up from his glass, looking at me with sadness and regret.

“I didn’t want to tell you, Rafe, or put any of you at risk. I thought it would be best if I acted alone. Less suspicious. I thought I was done for a few times. The spell to recreate the book almost went disastrously wrong. But, in the end, it worked.”

“So, why didn’t the spell work?” Seff interjects, his brow furrowed, muscles tensed as he tries to focus on Brydon’s story. Brydon smiles wryly at my future mate.

“Spells and contracts, man. Spells and contracts. Steer clear of both if you cannot understand them.”

“What do you mean?” Lia asks. The tension in the air is palpable. Brydon has effectively just admitted to treason of the highest order. Sweat pools at the base of my spine as I wait for Brydon to explain .

“I didn’t just recreate the book. I rewrote the rituals. I had to change the forgery in case there was a random follower who could read any of the text. But I also had to translate them for Heylor. He had no idea what he was saying. The magic he was invoking. I could have had him turn his followers into donkeys if I wanted to.”

“But you disarmed them instead. Incapacitating them so they could be arrested.” I say softly, the pain on his face clear as day. Brydon nods sharply, chewing his lip. After it all, he didn’t want his father harmed. Brydon was always too good for that man.

“Uh, yeah. But I had to sell it. Heylor was so pumped up on his own bullshit he believed that I was on board with his plans. It was weird, actually. Edris was the most sceptical of me. Especially when I fought so hard for them to banish Seff and not use him as a sacrifice. Edris was convinced that it was too large a risk. So I volunteered as a sacrifice.” He pauses his tale, swallowing against the hard lump in his throat. The room is silent, not a single being able to comprehend what he is telling us.

He turns to Lia, tears running unchecked down his ashen cheeks. “I didn’t know they were going to take you, High Eminence. I didn’t know…” Brydon’s voice fractures, and he sags in his chair.

He didn’t know his father would say yes.

Dear Gods, I want nothing more than to go find Heylor where he is being kept in the jails below the palace and tear him limb from limb. I want to kill him, slowly and painfully, and then bring him back to life—I am sure the method to do so is in the falyuk book—and then I want to kill him over and over again.

That he could do that—any of that—but specifically willingly sacrifice his son is evil, the likes of which I can’t begin to conceive. It takes all my childhood training in decorum and propriety to keep me in check. I rely on the reflexes of my upbringing to maintain a civil face—my impotent rage serves no purpose. Heylor’s future lies with the courts and the High Council—what remains of it at least.

My concern must be Brydon, the man sobbing quietly in his chair. Defeated and broken .

Lia is up out of her seat, but Seff beats her there. Ripping Brydon’s chair back to lift him into a giant hug till his feet dangle in the air. Lia waits patiently for Seff to be done, Seff’s face buried in Brydon's neck as he squeezes as much affection as he can into the hug. Once Seff finally lets him go, and Lia gives him a whisper filled embrace, it’s my turn. I stand on quivering legs, meeting him halfway.

“Can you forgive me?” Brydon asks, his tiny voice reminding me of all those years ago when I would find him loitering in my gardens, too scared to go home. He’s grown so far, but some scars are forever.

“There is nothing to forgive. At all.” I make sure I hold his eye as I say the words, attempting to bore them into the deepest recesses of his brain. When I wrap him in a tight hug, he softens, his breath collapsing into sobs. “But if you ever offer yourself as a sacrifice again, Brydon. I will kill you myself. Absolutely never again.” He laughs against me, choking on a snotty sob.

“Yeah, right. Never again. That was terrifying.”

“Can he come home with us?” I ask Lia over his shoulder. A growling sort of contentment sparks in my guts at the thought of having Seff and Brydon home.

“Not yet,” Lia states, shuffling papers on her table to cover her own emotions. She catches the glare on my face. “Oh, no, he can go home with you today. But we have other things to discuss first. With you and Seff, actually.”

Brydon steps back, wiping at his blotchy, tear-stained face with his hands.

“Well, let’s get this done.”

We reclaim our seats, Seff rubbing his hands eagerly. Lia clears her throat.

“There has been a lot of discussion amongst the High Council on how to proceed. I will obviously need to travel to the Mundane. I will need an escort, Tathys will need emissaries. No doubt they will wish to send ambassadors. Integration is going to be arduous.”

She finds the papers she was looking for and sits back, her spine straightening as she slips into the familiar role of leader of her people.

“Naturally, the role of emissaries is being offered to the Tavishers. After all, they are already integrated into Mundane society. It’s the first step in a long process.” My blood chills. I know I should want this role, to do what I can for Tathys to ease her way back into the world .

But Gods, I do not want to do it.

“But then there is the question of you, Rafe. Your territory straddled the lines of Mundane territories, and Anak already accepted a role for Ulydessia. And considering his recent transition to the Mundane and his position in society there, Joa is a natural selection for our emissary to Carconnois.”

“And then there is Seff. His arrival in Tathys caused quite the stir. But people were favourable to him.” I try not to be angry that she’s talking about him like he is not right there . “They like him.”

Lia slides the sheets of paper across the table.

“The High Council wishes to offer you both a position here. To help pave the way for the Munish to enter our society. Brydon, with his extensive knowledge of the Mundane, can only be a valuable asset. But we will need help. It’s going to be an adjustment.”

I stare in amazement at the paper in front of us. In terribly unclear, overblown formal language, it lays out everything Lia has just said.

“I—I… I don’t know what to say.” Out of all the possible scenarios I envisioned for today, this was definitely not one I foresaw. Seff leans forward, plucking the papers off the table.

“We’ll do it.” He briefly scans the paper and, realising it's a bunch of nonsense, he throws it back on the table. “Can we go home now?”

“Yes, Seff, you may take them home. Thank you. All of you. For everything,” Lia says, rising from her chair with a far more genuine smile than when we began.

There are more bows and goodbyes. We thank Yorin and Lia, and the three of us flee the palace, none of us breathing properly until we are off the last step.

In the town centre, Tathys is already firing back to life. We watch the beings going about their day, each one stopping to say a prayer of thanks in front of the flowing fountain where the sacred fire once again burns bright.

Brydon jams his hands in his pockets and rests on the fountain edge. There is no sunlight, and little warmth to the day, but he still tips his face to the sky, revelling in the feel of the breeze.

“I guess I should call my parents. Tell them I’m really not coming home.” Seff’s conflict rings clear in his words, and I can feel the bubble of tension in our bond.

“Are they going to be pissed? Wolves don’t like being separated, do they?” Brydon asks, not opening his eyes. Seff kicks at the stones beneath his feet.

“Dunno. Probably. But they can visit, right? Eventually?” He looks at me, questioning.

“Of course. This is your home.” He perks up instantly, blinding me with a smile magnetically bright, and those vylushkiva dimples. Pumping his eyebrows, he comes towards me, almost dancing with happiness. He pounces on me at the last second, when I’m too busy trying to not laugh at his ridiculousness.

Entirely entrapped by him, and extremely willingly so, he runs his nose along my ear, rubbing his scent all over me.

“That’s right, baby. This is my home. You’re my home.” His words rumble between us in a gruff whisper. I nip at his neck, a bolt of lust shooting straight through him and our connection to my cock. Groaning against his neck, I try, valiantly, to not hump against him in the middle of the town square.

“Great Gods, you two are not going to be like this all the time, are you? I am going to have to move out.” Brydon mutters from his place on the fountain.

Seff laughs, pressing a wet, smacking kiss to my lips. “I love you. And I love our home. Let’s go.”

In the distance a phoenix caws, and I slip my hand into Seff’s, Brydon rolling his eyes as he joins us, even as a smile teases at his lips. “I love you, too.”

Seff lets me know he hears me with three squeezes of my hand. My shoulder bumps Brydons as we walk. He smiles at me, keeping close.

For the first time in months, Tathys feels alive around us.

Exhausted, but happy, we make our way home.

***

This is not how I envisioned my mate's parents. Well, future mates. But I have full confidence that when I ask, the answer will be a very definite yes. Thankfully, once this burdensome task is over, I shall know for certain.

We are sitting on a rock atop the hills overlooking the dragons. With the walls of Tathys no longer impeding the magic, there is just enough service to allow us to make a video call. Barely.

Seff holds the phone in one hand between us, our faces perfectly captured together in the small rectangle at the bottom of the screen. It rings and rings, and for a blessed moment, I believe that I may have escaped my fate, but I am not that lucky.

Just as Seff loses hope, the blue screen changes and the radiant face of a woman appears—Seff’s mother. She hasn’t spied me yet as she is not looking at the screen, instead moving distractedly around the room.

“Seff, my darling! What is going on? Everyone has disappeared from the tavern again and we haven’t heard from you. And your dad was saying all kinds of crazy things about you leaving the—oh.” She stops, finally noticing her son isn’t alone. “Hello there!”

“Hey Mum. I want you to meet someone. Is Dad there? Get him, too.” The phone is laid down and there is a furious scramble while his mother whisper-yells for her mate.

“How you doing, Seff? What’s going on? Oh! Hello!” Seff’s parents are pressed tightly together to fit themselves in the frame. I can see where Seff gets his looks from. They are a beautiful pair. I smile politely, uncharacteristically nervous, more so than during our visit to the palace yesterday. What does one even say to their mate’s parents, really?

“Mum, Dad, this is Rafe Miyares. Rafe, these are my parents, Margie, and Roderick Harroway.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you both.” I manage to say the words without embarrassing myself entirely, but Seff elbows me with a gentle laugh anyway. Margie and Roderick are polite in their hellos back, but I can see their confusion about why I’m here and their eagerness to find out.

“I—uh—I won’t be back for a while.” Seff rushes out. “I can’t explain everything right now. Even if I did, it wouldn’t make sense, but it will in the future and—” I cut his rambling off with a gentle hand on his forearm.

He leans his forehead into mine and there is a soft “oh” of understanding through the phone speakers.

“What about the pack, Seff? You can’t just leave your family like that.” His father’s outburst earns him a hard look from Margie. The pack leader looks suitably chastised, a ruddy blush blooming on his cheeks.

I feel for Roderick. He sounds heartbroken, but my compassion lies entirely with Seff.

Inhaling deeply, Seff looks through the phone at his father. “I’m leaving the pack, not the Harroways. You will always be my dad. That doesn’t change. But my life cannot be there anymore. It’s here, with Rafe.”

“And where is here?” Margie asks, placing a warning hand on her mate’s arm when he goes to interrupt.

“Tathys.” Seff says it with a smile on his face.

Roderick scoffs and rolls his eyes, earning him another look from Margie—this time, a fierce glare. “Never heard of it.”

“Trust me Dad, you will.” My future mate's voice is playful, but firm. “But I hope you will support me in this. This is what I want. I don’t want to be pack leader. I don’t want that life.”

Roderick hangs his head, Margie rubbing his back comfortingly.

“We know, my darling. And we understand. Of course we’ll support you. Even if we are struggling to understand. Nanna Berry… She had a talk with Dad last time we visited. Read him the riot act she did. Explained that you aren’t rejecting him by making different choices to him. It’s just going to be an adjustment. For us all.”

“What? Dad! No! Of course it’s not rejecting you! I love you guys. I even love the pack. I do ! It’s just not for me . And I want to be able to love you guys without having to sacrifice myself to do it.”

Seff is a quivering ball of anxiety next to me. I try to press myself tighter against him to help, but I’m not sure it works. Not until his dad raises his head, his eyes glassy with tears.

“I know, son. Trust me, they’ve explained it. I just grew up differently in different times. I’ll adjust.” He sniffs loudly and shakes his head. “So, what’ll you be doing with yourself?”

“I have a new job here. It’s another thing on the impossible to explain list. But I want to travel. See the world. Specifically, with Rafe.”

Gods, it is too much. Especially with his parents looking on as they are. My heart thunders, and the desperate need to claim him right here is almost too much to bear.

“And who, my darling Seff, is Rafe?” I tear myself away from the deep wells of emotion in Seff’s eyes to catch Seff’s mother’s smirking laughter.

“My future, Mum. Rafe’s my future.”

***

Three days. Three Godsforsaken days we had to wait after our phone call with his parents for the full moon.

Okay, maybe I’m being a little dramatic about the phone call. I’ve never met a lover's parents like that before—let alone one I intended to mate—so my nerves may have heightened the experience in my memory.

After Seff declared I was his future, we finished the phone call, promising to visit his parents as soon as we could. I have little doubt that his parents knew why we were so hasty in our goodbyes, which only added to my immense embarrassment. On the other hand, it had been far too long since I’d had Seff’s touch. We made up for it there on the clifftop, overlooking Tathys.

In the afterglow, I asked him to be my mate. To tie himself to me for the rest of our lives. He agreed before I could get the words out in their entirety, tackling me to the grass and smothering me in snuffling, ticklish kisses until I was breathless with laughter.

After, we laid together and watched the clouds pass in the setting sun, his hand in mine while we planned our mating.

He was adamant he didn’t want to wait any longer than the next full moon—even when I offered to wait so we could have a formal ceremony with his friends and family and the Everfyr pack. Seff steadfastly declined, telling me he wanted to go back to where it all began that night in the Woods, just us.

Who am I to deny my sweet kushinavya anything in this world?

With the plans for our mating settled, all that was left was our future. We talked until the sky grew dark and the air cold. Stars sparkled in the sky, but we stayed where we were, while Seff told me every place on his extremely long list he wanted to visit. Of course, he reiterated repeatedly, only after Tathys was settled and we were secure in our new positions here.

The undeniable joy in his fervent declarations moved something inside of me, moves me still. To see the parts of him that have been locked away and made small, uncaged and allowed the freedom to be as large, bright and brilliant as he truly is.

The day has been warm enough, but as our journey begins at dusk, a chill has fallen over the Woods. This late in the day, with the full moon already beginning to show in the sky, the Woods are empty. Creatures and beings alike have made their way to their homes, their mates, their sacred spaces.

While the Woods are empty, or seemingly so, they are not silent. The energy of the Woods is decidedly loud. Full of wild energy that infects the spirit, buzzing through our veins, calling to the most primitive parts of our spirits.

It is Wolf who joins me on the journey here, having pushed his way to the forefront to make the journey. He probably regrets his demands when we pass through the portal, the poor creature unsteady on his legs for a long while after. Even so, he never leaves my side.

As we near the clearing where Seff and I first stumbled upon each other, the shimmer of Wolf’s change begins. The soft fur brushing against my fingers transforms into warm, bare skin.

Seff unfolds himself from his crouched position, his glorious body on display in the golden light of the setting sun and the silver moon above. I drink him in, just as mesmerised as I was that first night.

That I get to spend the rest of my existence tied to this magnificent being is a blessing from the Gods I will forever work to be worthy of. I have known this man for only a collection of days, but it feels as though I’ve known him for a thousand lifetimes before this. Perhaps I have, and that is what has drawn us together so perfectly .

Maybe we’ve been mated before, and this is just us finding each other again in this life, as we’ll find each other again in the next. Tied together for not just our existence, but the universe’s. Two halves of one whole, forever bound to one another.

“So, like, how do we even do this?” Seff asks hesitantly, rubbing at the back of his neck and surveying our camp for the night, while I retrieve my bag from its astral pocket.

“Well, my sweet kushinavya,” I brush a kiss against his cheek and press the sleeping mat and blankets into his hands. “I am not an expert, but I believe that we just follow our instincts. They led us this far, have they not?”

I can hear Seff’s snorts from where he is laying out the blankets on the grass. I have already moved on to setting up our wards for the night. The last thing we need are any other beings stumbling upon us—we don’t need a perfect recreation of our first meeting.

Once the wards are set and the fire is conjured, we sit on the blankets to eat our dinner. Brydon helped Eldrid pack the basket for us. Which explains that bottle of novelty, edible Munish lube tucked underneath the feast. At least they remembered the pastries from the fae bakery in town.

Nestled between Seff’s thick thighs, his chest a solid wall for my back, we feed each other, laughing in the growing dark. I’m so consumed by Seff—his full body laughter, the teasing spark in his eye and that vylushkiva dimple—I don’t notice the fog rolling in from the Woods, cocooning us in our own private world.

Reality fades from us entirely. Inside our hidden oasis, the energy slowly shifts. The laughter fades as our touches linger. I place a delicate pastry against Seff’s lips, letting my thumb graze against his lush lower lip. His tongue chases the juice of a berry that trails down my throat. Despite the cold beyond the fog encapsulating us, the heat becomes almost unbearable.

Seff is still naked from his change and so it only feels natural to unbutton my shirt. Even more natural for Seff to assist me, his lips sucking a hard bruise to my neck while nimble fingers work the buttons.

With each caress, each brush of our lips, the fog invades our senses until we cannot do anything but submit to the magical rite. Like a dream possessing us, we lose ourselves entirely. There is only me, and Seff, and the magic spilling out of us.

Skin is bared, caressed, devoured, our lips exploring until we find each other's mouths once again. Our kisses are frenzied. He tastes of him and me. Smoke and the wild. Blood and honey. Forever and home.

Mine .

We make a symphony together. Seff’s whimpers. My guttural groans. The slick sounds of our bodies joining. The rapid, staccato rhythm of our breaths. The words we’ve never been able to speak are an invocation to the Gods.

Together. Forever. Mine .

Our claiming is an act of worship. Like a storm all consuming, ravaging us as we ravage each other. Deep inside him, I do not know if I will survive the moment. The connection that has always laid between us, strengthened in every encounter, embeds itself in the very depths of our beings until we are no longer two separate spirits.

Only one. Only us.

The energy in us, entwining us, culminates in explosive ecstasy. Forever irrevocably changed.

Our union blessed and consecrated, we collapse together in the dirt.

Dawn breaks as it always has. The monotonous rhythm of the universe is a stark contrast to the deep and irrevocable way my world has changed. Seff lies wrapped all around me, his body protecting me from the icy morning. And yet, he is also deep inside me. I can feel him within my chest—the place he has always been. Now, only more.

His dark lashes flutter as he slowly wakes until they part to reveal the amber pools of his eyes. Crushing me to his chest more tightly, he inhales deeply. Rolling onto his back with a stretch, he takes me with him until I am sprawled over his large body. From his satisfied sighs, I think he’s going to fall back asleep, but he doesn’t. He strokes my back in a sweeping caress.

“Hey.”

The monosyllabic greeting elicits a huffing laugh from me. I can feel the contentment rolling through him.

“Good morning, my sweet kushinavya.”

I’m gifted with a swift kiss to my crown and a beaming smile, complete with my dimple.

“Good morning, my mate .”

Gods, it feels as though I’ve waited a thousand lifetimes to hear that. I crush my lips to his, my tongue invading his mouth. Strong arms form steel bands around me. The kiss is slow, sensual. Unlike last night.

I can barely remember it. Only impressions left in my memories, the aches in my body and our bond to know it was real.

“Shall we head home?”

Seff shakes his head, decorating my collarbone with fluttering kisses. “Not yet.” He breathes against my skin. Humming in agreement, I cave to his touch.

Not yet. He’s right. Because there is no rush. Not any longer.

No more goodbyes, no more endless waiting, no more looking at the stars, praying to the Gods for one more glimpse of him.

When we leave, we will leave together. As one.

As we will be for the rest of our days.

In this life and the next, in the ether and beyond.

His. Mine. Ours .