Page 8 of Whisper Woods (Legends of the Whisper Woods #3)

Seff

Four Years Ago

“What are you doing here Jacobson?” Honestly, it’s kind of bullshit that he thought he’d be able to follow me without me noticing. I’m almost offended.

The charcoal coloured wolf slinks out of the treeline near the creek I’m resting by, his head low in submission. I snort inwardly, what a fucking act.

I keep my back to him, an insult when a predator shifter is in their animal form and you are not. It is a giant, waving flag that you think they are weak, that they aren’t a threat. And really, screw him for following me out here. The air shimmers behind me while he changes, but I keep my eyes squarely on the gently trickling stream of the creek in front of me. The reflection of the moon ripples with the current.

“Thought you might like some company. It’s the full moon after all.”

His voice is low and husky, and it should be sexy. Especially on nights like this when all our instincts are heightened. But instead it’s like nails on a chalkboard. Even Wolf is objecting, pushing his way to the forefront of our shared consciousness. The hairs on my arms raise with his hackles when Jacobson takes another step closer.

“I’m good, thanks.” There is a bite to my words that smarter beings might heed as a warning, but not Jacobson. He takes another step closer and I have to battle to keep a rein on Wolf from snapping. If I wanted company I’d have stayed at the pack grounds. And even then, Jacobson is the last fucking being I’d want to keep company with.

“Naw, come on. Don’t be like that. There’s apparently a big bad beastie lurking in the Woods tonight.” Gods, he’s right behind me now, leaning in close, his breath hot and irritating on my ear. “We should stick close. Stay safe… ”

“Are you really fucking serious?” I throw the stone I’ve been turning over in my hand into the water. It lands with a startling splash in the dark.

The air shifts as Jacobson bristles, his own wolf rising closer to the surface at my aggression. “What do you mean?”

“You really think after you gave me shit for all those years for being into guys that I’m, what? Gonna blow you? Fuck you? Just ‘cause Colin fucking died and took his archaic dumbass ideas with him? Now Dad’s pack leader, is it okay to suck dick? Go lick corion ass, Jacobson.”

With each word my anger escalates. Because that’s the thing with full moons. If you’re not going to fuck, there is a good chance you’ll fight.

I stand, taking advantage of my size, finally facing him. The creek bed is slippery under my bare feet, but I don’t care. Jacobson is smaller than me in wolf and human form. His black hair is longer now, shaggier than he ever had it under Colin’s reign as pack leader—just one of the many dumb ways Colin used to exert control over the pack. His face is tight with anger, his dark brows drawn in, his mouth a sharp slash across his face. I can almost see his wolf; they share the same long snout.

Jacobson’s body is taut, like he’s about to pounce. He’s never been truly skilled with fighting, always relying on his sneaky, underhanded style to get ahead. He’s never been shy about hitting below the belt.

“Fuck you, Seff.” He spits and my hands clench, the only give to the fury pulsing through me. “You always thought you were better than the pack. Above it all. Now you think you’re the Gods’ tits just ‘cause your dad’s pack leader.” He actually spits this time, the glob of saliva landing on the stone by my big toe. Wolf rages at the insult, growling and tearing to break free and eat his innards as a midnight snack.

“But you ain't shit. Just a pathetic, weak little beta.” Jacobson jumps, surprised by my bark of laughter at his attempt at an insult. Me? A fucking beta? Even if the idea wasn’t outdated bullshit, I am definitely one of the biggest and strongest in the pack. It was their whole problem with me—well most of it anyway—all this strength and I refuse to use it for their whims.

The first chuckle unleashes the dam of feelings and my anger dissolves into belly-cramping laughs, until I’m doubled over, clutching at my stomach. I must look pretty psychotic because Jacobson is eyeing me warily, taking a cautious step backwards. I swear even his balls are shrivelling up a little.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He snarls, with significantly less confidence now.

I look up, wiping at the dampness in my eyes to see the twisted look on his face. And just as quickly, the fury is back, Wolf stepping to the forefront, no longer willing to play.

“What did you say?” The growl in my voice is the only warning before I’m launching over the rocks of the creek bed to slam into Jacobson, sending us both to the muddy banks.

Thank fuck we clear the rocks, because when hit the ground it’s hard. Even with Jacobson pinned beneath me, the impact rattles me.

Wolf is too close to the surface, making me reckless, egging on my anger, demanding that I let him free to fight Jacobson himself. But tonight I’m the feral one, not Wolf, and I’m sick of Jacobson’s shit.

Jacobson squirms beneath me, pummelling my sides with his fists, trying to find a soft place for a hard hit while he kicks and bucks his hips to get me off him.

Good fucking luck. I leer over him, Wolf’s snarl reflected on my mouth. When Jacobson gets one swift jab to my abdomen, just hard enough to wind me, I snatch up his hands with lightning speed, pinning them above his head. Usually this position would be fun, but not with him. And not when the dickhead tries to headbutt me.

My fingers tighten around his wrists, threatening to crush them in my grip, and to stop him from doing anything else stupid, I pin the fucker by his throat. Rage thrums through me, adrenaline coursing through my veins making my body tingle.

Leaning down so I’m right in his face, I can’t help but taunt Jacobson in his pathetic fight for freedom.

“Who’s the beta now?” I growl, Wolf howling in my head where he’s caged—very much against his will.

“You’re insane.” Jacobson just doesn’t know when to quit. I press down harder on Jacobson's throat until his eyes bulge, his movements becoming jerky and uncontrolled.

Jacobson's face flushes a horrible mottled red colour in the dark and it’s enough to shock me back to reality. This isn’t me, risking everything for myself, for Dad, for the pack, over a dumbass insult.

Horrified at how far I let myself fall into the feral pit all wolves have within themselves, I force myself to regain control over the aggression raging through me. The full moon may stir it up, but I’m responsible for myself.

My grip on Jacobson loosens, his colour returning to something less gross, but before I can climb off him, maybe even offer an apology, a loud crack reverberates through the trees, distracting us. Wolf scents the air in search of whoever—whatever—is out there.

Smoke? The disturbingly familiar scent, the one that’s haunted my dreams and fantasies for a year now, taunts me.

It couldn’t be? I must be confused. It’s been so long since I’ve smelt it. I have to be—

Jacobson takes advantage of my distraction, sharply bucking his hips to unseat me enough to allow him to jerk his arms free. He manages to land a solid punch to my guts in his scramble.

He gets to his feet backing away from me, eyeing both me and the trees with frenzied, wild eyes. I ignore him, kneeling in the mud, dick mostly hard from the adrenaline and the fight, staring at the trees, willing the scent to be real.

“I’m fucking out of here.” The tremor in Jacobson’s voice is almost imperceptible. Almost. I tip my head in his direction like I’m listening to his panicked warning, but my eyes stay on the trees. “You should leave, too.”

He stammers the warning and legs it in the opposite direction when there is a rustle in the trees. Close, like really fucking close.

The scent is almost overpowering now that Wolf has locked in on it. The mud is cool beneath my knees, but I just wait, kneeling in supplication. Praying to the Gods, heart locked in my chest.

“Well, that certainly was a display.” Rafe’s honeyed voice wraps around me. My head rushes with his intoxicating presence .

His eye drags over me, eating up every inch of me, naked in the moonlight. He’s still too far in the shadows for me to see clearly and a heavy aching pit opens in me, needing to set eyes on him too.

I must look like a mess, still slightly fangy with my partial change, my facial features a little too pronounced, covered in mud and bruises. This wasn’t my first fight today, and I’m still carrying some bruises from some more experienced fighters than Jacobson.

Fighting’s really not usually my thing, and so I don’t often jump into the ring at pack gatherings. But today I needed to burn off a little extra energy—that same buzz that drew me out here tonight. And thank fuck it did.

Because he’s here.

“Always happy to put on a show.” My teasing tone has a gruffer edge. It’s growlier. Hotter. Rafe seems to notice. Even from the distance, I can hear his huff of laughter, the soft rustle of his footsteps as he comes that little bit closer.

He’s easier to see now, and it’s like I didn’t know how desperate I was to see him until he was there. I drink him in, thirsty as fuck for every droplet.

At first glance he looks relaxed, a casual smirk on his lips, his thumb rubbing at his lush lower lip. I want to bite it.

“And what a show it was.” I stay kneeling where I am, it doesn’t even cross my mind to stand. Instead, as he approaches I instinctively take a more subservient pose, sitting back on my heels, my hands settled in my lap for what feels like the first time in my life. The closer he gets, the quieter my body becomes. There’s no noise, the chaos in my head settling into blissful quiet.

It’s like a blanket of peace wrapped around me when Rafe stops, the tips of his boots brushing my knees.

“Hello again, Seff.”

He reaches out, running his hand through the dirty mess of light brown hair, tugging slightly so I have to look up at him. Like I wasn’t going to already. A flicker of something hot and possessive lights in his eyes when they meet mine, making my cock twitch in my lap.

“Rafe.” It’s a whisper. A prayer.

Rafe’s eyebrow quirks, but he doesn’t give me any other reaction to my plea. I can tell he’s pleased, though, I can feel it. And that only makes me hotter. Anticipation quivers through me, my cock is achingly hard now, but I refuse to move, to break this spell.

His hand is tangled in my hair, petting me with impossibly strong fingers. I lean into the touch, desperate for the contact.

“Are you alone?” My stomach coils tight at his question, what he really means. We were interrupted last time, and neither of us wants that this time. My skin feels like it’s on fire, even with the chill in the breeze. I nod, the tiniest dip of my head, but he doesn’t miss it, and the smirk turns darker. “Good.”

The Woods disappear with whatever spell he’s weaving around us. Or maybe it’s just him—what he does to me. I sway towards him, our eyes finally breaking contact when mine drift close. My face presses into his belly—I can feel his muscles filled with tension as I nuzzle into the soft linen of his shirt.

I massage up his calves and thighs, the only sounds in the moonlight, our shuddering breaths, and the gentle ripple of the creek.

His dick is rock hard and even though I cannot wait to finish what we started a year ago, I force myself to slow down, to savour every second, every delicious moment. Like the subtle shiver he does when my fingers finally make their way to the button of his pants, slipping it free.

Fuck, his cock is so eager, the hint of freedom almost has it busting free of its confines. My control is slipping, my hands getting rough as I wrestle Rafe’s pants to his thighs. Without any underwear to restrict it, his cock, magnificent and thick, smacks my cheek as it bounces free.

Circling the base with my hand, I rub the length with my cheek, Rafe’s fingers in my hair getting almost uncomfortably tight as I near the flushed tip. My lips hover there, my breath teasing. A pearly drop of pre-cum pulses out of him when I stroke his base.

Looking up through my lashes, I hold his gaze once again. My tongue drags over that pearly drop. It tastes so fucking good. I do it again, and again, until I can’t take it anymore and I take him in my mouth. Moaning around the weight of him on my tongue, I swallow him down, jerking the rest of him with my fist.

White noise fills my ears, my mind surrendering entirely to my body, consumed only with bringing him to pleasure. Unclenching my fist from his hip, I push at his shirt pulling it up enough to grope at the taught planes of his stomach. I want to feel him everywhere.

“Yes, vylushkiva, Seff.” Rafe groans above me, his hips arching to drive his cock further into my throat. I remove my hand to let him go as deep as he likes, swallowing around him. My eyes water when he drives in again and again, leaving me breathless and drooling. From through my damp lashes I drink in the feral lust filling Rafe’s eyes—somehow both animalistic and tender. Just like the way he’s fucking my mouth, each thrust pushing to my very limits while his fingers in my hair caress and soothe. “You look so beautiful on your knees for me, kushinavya.”

His words, in that raspy magnetic voice of his, are like a lightning bolt through me, hitting every trigger I have.

My hands spasm on his hips, as my balls tighten and my cock jerks threateningly—my knot pulsing with the need for release. One more nice word and I’m going to come, untouched. Whimpering around my mouthful of cock, I double my efforts, wrestling back a sliver of control to work him until he swells.

Releasing one hip, I thread a hand between his legs to fondle his balls, tight to his body. My other hand itches to stroke myself, but I’m so epically close I want to finish like this. Untouched, just from the taste of Rafe, the sensations vibrating through me.

The tension builds, heat radiating from us both, the sloppy, wet sounds of the blow job only making things hotter. Rafe continues to lavish me in praise—harsh whispered words like fingers dancing over my skin. “So good, the way you suck me. Incredible. So beautiful. Look at you, a perfect mess. Going to paint you with my cum.”

His words take me apart, and I fracture, pulling off his dick with a hoarse cry as I come, hips jerking, seeking friction. Eyes squeezed tight, my head drops back, every muscle locks in release.

That’s when I feel it, the first spurts of his cum as he shoots over me. It splatters over my heaving chest as I recover my breath, mixing with the streaks of my own release. More ribbons cover me, my neck, my shoulder, my thigh, my cheek.

With stiff, almost robotic movements, Rafe releases my hair. The rush of blood to my scalp tingles, making me laugh. Actually, my whole body is tingling, a fizzy buzz zapping through me. Gently, I wrap my hand around my knot, relieving the ache there with a soft massage. It’ll go down eventually, but it’s always a little uncomfortable when left untouched like this.

“That was incredible.” I mumble through my laugh. I feel boneless, completely wrecked. Rafe looks down at me, a strange look on his face. I must look like a lunatic, and so I try to pull my shit together. It’s almost painful, putting the pieces of my mask together. It chafes around the edges.

But as I stop laughing to school my features into something less free, Rafe’s expression only gets harder, his eyes eyebrows twisting together in a frown that leaves me confused.

“It was.” He holds out a hand, and I stare at it for a second before I take it, allowing him to help me to my feet. It’s funny, I notice that even when I’m standing and bigger than him, I still feel smaller. Not in a bad way, like he’s looking down on me… It’s just his energy. It’s bigger than him, bigger than me. It’s a nice feeling for a guy that’s always the biggest in the room.

Rafe’s eye trails over me, from the dirt and the mud, to the scratches and bruises and now the cum and sweat dripping down my body, and finally to the creek behind us.

“We should get you cleaned up. How about a swim?” That smile is back. It reassures that terrified thing inside me that I haven’t fucked this up. But still, the creek? Now? Sure, it’s early summer, and the day was warm, but the night has a definite chill to it and the water… I look back over my shoulder at the silvery, gently flowing water. Fuck it.

“What, you going to wash me up? Get me all clean after getting me all dirty?” I tease.

Rafe huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Well, if you don’t want to, I can always…” He plays at leaving, turning on his heel, but before he can get too far I snatch him back, pinning him to me with one arm around his waist, accidentally smearing him with the mess on my chest .

“Not on your life. Get naked.” His growl vibrates through me as he captures my lips, kissing me punishingly while we both pull at his clothes.

Buttons fly until he’s finally, gloriously, naked. I don’t get to take him in, though, instead he walks me backwards, expertly guiding me into the water while we devour each other.

The water is freezing when it first hits my feet but warms as we get deeper. It flows around us, our feet unsteady on the slippery rocks of the creek bed.

True to his word, Rafe takes his time to wash me, scooping up handfuls of water to rub at my skin. He seems mesmerised as he does, and I can’t help but flex and pose, making my muscles pop and him chuckle darkly. He moves around me slowly, rubbing, kissing, nibbling at me until the cool water is a blessing on my feverish skin. When he stands behind me, hands running over my back in broad sweeps, I can feel his cock, hard again, brushing against my ass.

“Why do you have so many bruises? What have you been doing, sweet kushinavya?” There’s that word again. He said it before and something else I can’t remember. I don’t know what it means, but I love the way it makes me feel, like it fills the depths of my spirit. I wonder what language it is—does it mean that he doesn’t live here? Is he far from home and that’s why I haven’t seen him again? A weird cramp hits my chest when I try to think too hard about it, so I let it go, letting the worry float away in the creek.

His lips brush over my shoulder and he presses in close. A shiver ripples up my spine and I sink back into him. He shouldn’t be able to bear my weight, but he can.

“Full moon gathering. I joined them in the ring today.” My eyes drift shut, my head leaning back to rest against his. Rafe draws patterns over my abdomen, both arms wrapped around me. He rocks us gently in the water, almost like we’re dancing. It feels so soothing. So right.

“Hmm,” he hums, turning his head slightly to kiss at my neck. “Is that something you do often?”

“Nah, I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” He huffs another laugh, tickling me with his breath. A smile breaks over my face and I sink a little deeper into the moment .

“That feels right. So why today?” He sounds curious, and for some reason, maybe because I’m not one-hundred percent this isn’t all just a dream and he’s not actually real, or maybe because it feels really fucking good to open up for once, my mouth decides to be honest before my brain does.

“I needed to burn off some energy. And the guys, fuck they were being so annoying. It just… got too much. Too loud. I couldn’t run it off so…” I let my words trail off when Rafe kisses his way along my shoulder, his hands massaging along the valleys of my hips.

“Ah, I see. Did you feel better after?” There wasn’t even a smidge of judgement in his words, just genuine care.

My stomach dips low when he presses back up to my hips, nestling his cock between my cheeks. Biting my cheek to keep from moaning greedily, I brush my head against his temple as I nod. Even though I didn’t feel that much better after. Not like right now. But I can’t seem to find the strength to use my words.

“That’s good, sweet thing.” Fuck, Rafe wraps his hand around me, and this time I do moan, loud and guttural as he strokes my dick, his hips rocking between my cheeks in perfect sync.

It doesn’t take long to reach the peak once again, Rafe coming first with the hottest shuddering groan I’ve ever heard. I follow soon after, the creek water washing away our cum like an offering.

We stumble together onto the creek banks and we quickly realise our error. Both now naked and wet, it’s not only cold but we’re going to get filthy again.

I hesitate awkwardly, running my hand through my hair. It has to be late, well early. I have no idea how long it is until sunrise, but it has to be soon. I should be heading back to the pack grounds, but I don’t. In fact, the idea of leaving just yet makes me want to vomit. I couldn’t make my feet move in that direction even if I tried.

Rafe seems to sense my anxiety, running a hand down my arm. “Wait here,” he says, waiting for me to nod before he walks to the treeline. He disappears in the dark for a moment but returns with a large blanket. It’s the woven kind that the centaurs use. Did he get it from them? Jealousy churns in me for a moment while I jump to a thousand conclusions about how and why he got a blanket before I realise I’m being an idiot.

Rafe spreads the blanket on a soft patch of dirt and grass, away from the rocks, and beckons me over.

“Come, rest with me before we have to leave.” I hate the reminder, but love the idea, and so I go and settle in the space he’s made for me between his legs. Reclining there, leaning against his chest, his legs caging me in, I feel more at home than I ever have.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” I almost purr, Rafe playing with my hair taking away my tension.

“I didn’t think I would either. It was… disappointing.”

“Tell me about yourself.” He bristles slightly at my question, which is worrying. But at least it points in the direction of him being real. I mean, a figment of my imagination wouldn’t bristle at being questioned. Right?

“What do you want to know?”

I struggle for a moment, too many questions rushing to the tip of my tongue. I want to know him. I want to know him as intimately as I know myself. And yet, I can feel the reluctance in him. The cramp in my chest returns when I think of questioning him. It’s like there is a wall around him that I don’t know how to get around, warning me that there are questions he will not—can not—answer. So I stumble.

“Favourite colour?” I ask eventually. Rafe eases under me and I know I went in the right direction. He keeps petting me while he thinks. Wolf sighs contentedly, more than pleased with our current situation.

“Once a year, during the winter, the sky at home lights up in the most beautiful auroras. It’s magnificent. Streaks of blues and greens, purples and pinks light up the sky. One year the entire sky lit up in a brilliant blue-green light. I can’t describe it. It was like the Gods themselves were in the sky that night. That colour is the most beautiful colour I’ve ever seen.”

He makes no effort to elaborate on where exactly home is, but I’ve heard of the auroras. During the winter you can see the edges of them on the fringes of the Whisper Woods to the southern border near the ocean. Where it’s rumoured there are dragons. It’s an area even the bravest beings don’t dare to tread .

Maybe Rafe comes from the Overlands? They’d possibly see the auroras there, the islands are to the south west of Carconnois, between us and Ulydessia. The strange feeling returns as I try to make the mental jumps to put together the information. I may not have faetuition, but my instincts know enough to tell me to leave it alone.

“That sounds incredible. I’d love to see it.” I sigh, settling back further against his chest. Rafe hums gently, pressing a kiss to my hair.

“I think you would like it very much.” He sounds wistful, his fingers tracing absent shapes over my biceps. “What about you? Your favourite colour?”

Smiling lazily I answer, seeing it clearly in my mind. “Green. But not just any green.” I shift on my ass a little, excitement bubbling at the memory. “It’s the green I see when I let Wolf take over and we run. Flying through the Woods together, it all rushes together and blurs into the green of the Woods. It’s so beautiful. I can smell it, you know? It makes me feel—” I stop suddenly, all too aware how much, and how fast, I’m talking about a colour. Heat fills my cheeks and I know I’m blushing. I feel like an idiot. It’s been a long time since I’ve rambled like this. It’s just Rafe, he makes me forget myself.

“How? How does it make you feel?” Rafe prods, squeezing me with his thighs.

I swallow against the lump in my throat. “Free. I feel free.”

Rafe hums against my head again, his arms wrapping around me to rock us gently. “Sounds beautiful.”

“Yeah, it really is.” Comfortable silence wraps around us, even though I can feel the ticking clock of our separation looming in the night.

“Savoury or sweet?” I ask, desperate for more of him.

“Savoury and sweet. I’ve never been one to deny myself pleasure.” He nips playfully at my ear making me laugh and squirm against him. “What about you?” I’m a little distracted by the way his lips are kissing a soft trail down the column of my throat, but I manage to choke out an answer around my flustered arousal.

“Salty. I’m sweet enough.”

Rafe breaths a soft chuckle against me amidst his kisses. I continue to pepper him with questions, irrelevant things that help me piece together the picture of him, while he keeps on kissing and touching every inch of me he can reach.

Eventually, it’s not enough and we twist and turn until we are lying side by side, kissing as if it’s our last breath. As the pink light of dawn creeps above the treetops, we writhe together until he’s pinned beneath me and we’re rutting together. We come as one, our release mixing on our stomach between us and our kisses slowing into lazy, soft brushes.

I collapse, rolling to the side so I don’t crush him entirely—though I’m pretty sure he could take it—shimmying down to rest my head on his chest and trace patterns in our cum on his stomach.

“I have to go.”

Bile rises in my throat, panic making me grip his waist, pin him to the ground. I want to shout no! That he can’t go. He can’t leave me.

But that’s insane and so I choke it down. Smother it, along with Wolf’s howling whine. He doesn’t want Rafe to go either. Rafe’s heartbeat is unsteady under my ear so I take a deep breath.

“Okay.” I sound just as enthusiastic as him. He kisses me again, his lips slanting over mine with heartbreaking sweetness. When we part and he stands, I fold the blanket, handing it to him, but he shakes his head.

“Keep it. For next time.” He smirks, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Fuck, I want to cry. I can feel the burn of it in my chest, only years of training keeping my feelings under a heavy mask is keeping me together right now.

He’s standing just out of arm's reach, like he doesn’t trust himself to be any closer. To be fair, neither do I. As he pulls on his clothes, or the muddy remains of them from where they were flung, I hug the blanket to me like a lifeline.

“So I’ll see you again then?” I sound pathetic, but when Rafe looks up at me from where he’s bent buckling his boot, I don’t feel pathetic.

“If the Gods will it.” Fully dressed, he rushes to me, cupping my jaw in his hands, pulling my face to his. His one good eye flicks between mine. “Sweet kushinavya, take care of yourself.”

One last kiss is all I get, and he’s stepping back, taking a part of me with him I don’t know if I will ever recover from .

“Bye.” My wave is small, and he only nods, a tight smile on his face as he steps into the darkness.

Honestly, I’m almost glad to see him go, if he is truly leaving. Because I don’t know how much longer I could have kept myself from actually kidnapping him and running off into the Woods.

When his smokey, sweet scent finally disappears from the edges of my awareness, Wolf lets out a painful howl. I know, buddy. I know . I reassure him, walking back to the rocks by the creek where I started the night, the tears trailing freely down my face while I watch the sunrise over the trees.

Soon. Soon, I’ll go back.

But not now.

Not yet.