Forbidden Fables, page 19
I gawk at the trees and gardens, the different color flowers lining the house and the backyard like a bouquet of brightly lacquered lollipops. Everything looks as though it’s sparkling, and I can’t help but feel a childish wonder wash over me.
There is so much to take in, and I keep myself from exclaiming at the lush surroundings.
I elbow Charles as we follow her up the wooden stairs to the inside of her cabin, and he narrows his eyes down at me.
Perhaps he didn’t view this place with the same wonderment as I did, but men were funny like that.
“But…how?” I gasp as we enter, and the house seems to triple in size.
Both Charles and I stand in awe, taking in the high ceilings and rows of bookshelves. Some are lined with dusty tomes, others lined with glass jars and boxes.
“Ah, you like? Something told me you might. This humble house of mine.” Her voice is velvety smooth, with edges of sweetness to it like a rough caress. Her hair is a glossy black, with blunt bangs that hang above her emerald green eyes glittering beneath thick, black lashes. The shape of them is nothing like I’ve seen, sort of…enchanting.
Two dark lines ran above her cheekbones, and a crescent moon bridges her nose with what looks like ash. My eyes dart to Charles again, wondering if he is thinking about the woman Callum is wailing over.
Impossible…she is too…beautiful.
“What she means is… there have been attacks on our town. One boy is dead, one has gone missing. She’s just scared. Have you noticed anything amiss?” He says, true to form from a leader-in-the-making.
She softly titters to a small fox that sidles up to her feet and sits. She gently shakes her head no, looking down over the small, red creature with bared teeth. “What awful news…shh…shh…Lilitu. They are only visitors.”
I walk over to one of the many bookshelves that line the back wall, two plush chairs catty-cornered beside it.
We don’t own sitting chairs—stiff table chairs are the only option.
Grabbing a book with a purple cover and silver edges, I open it and sit, surprised by my instant comfortability—the place looked like a library straight out of one of my dreams.
I almost forgotten that we’re in the middle of the woods with a stranger and empty bellies.
“What are your names, sweet ones?”
“Charity.” I blurt without even thinking. Charles walks to my side and grabs my hand, squeezing it, but I smile stupidly at our hero.
She looks at Charles, and he hesitates. “Charles.”
“Charles and Charity,” she purrs. “Such beautiful names. I am known as Freyja. Stay here tonight, it will be cold soon. I will take care of you.”
Her words are so simple, yet they are an order.
Charles squeezes my hand harder, but the stupid grin plastered on my face only widens. “Thank you so much, Freyja.”
Chapter 18
Charles
This is more than just strange. This is downright black magic.
I have not seen such abundance since London. The animals and gardens that surround this land, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, are not normal. Not to mention it held the most exotic flowers and fruits I have ever seen—bright yellow petals with six-foot tall stems and wide brown centers. Red roses thatched around the border of each line of vegetable patches. Birds chirped, and dragonflies flew from flower to flower. It is as if we are in a different forest and not the one we have been lost inside of these past two days.
As she leads us inside, the house seems enormous. This woman is not just any woman, she is very different, and a wary feeling in the bottom of my stomach grows heavy like a stone.
Her height and inflection are intimidating, her robes otherworldly and not common. It is hard for me to look away once her stare catches my gaze. Her green eyes shimmer and her heavy black lashes touch her cheeks gently when she smiles.
The smell of garlic and leeks fill my nose, and my stomach growls loudly.
Charity is surrounded by open books beside a roaring fire, a chocolate bar sitting beside her while she happily chews. I watch her eyes grow big as she reads, her face betraying her thoughts. The corner of my mouth lifts into a grin to see her happiness at this sudden change of circumstances. We are no longer lost in the woods, angry with each other. We are in another world entirely.
Freyja is in the kitchen, lined with glass bottles of deep reds and blues. Plants hang from twine above the sink. Countertops flecked with gold line the walls, a modern feature that not many houses can afford.
“Do you like venison?” Freyja calls, her voice sending an involuntary chill down my spine. The smell of whatever it is she is cooking is clouding my thoughts and causes my mouth to fill with saliva.
It has to have been a month since we have eaten real red meat. I nod and try to hide my elation at feeling the salty juices in my mouth again.
She fills two wooden bowls to the rim, tucking a long baguette under her arm and walks toward us.
Charity looks up at the dark-haired stranger and smiles. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
Freyja looks down over Charity, pleased. She sets down the bowl beside me while Charity eagerly swallows down the steaming broth.
Tearing the bread in half, she hands a piece to me and one to Charity. Two spoons follow, and I can no longer wait, shoveling the sustenance into my mouth, dipping the bread in the bowl, and savoring the juices as they drip over my tongue.
Freyja sits beside me on the floor, furs spread beneath us.
I slowly chew the meat, tasting the familiar sweetness of carrots. I close my eyes and hum, and when I open them again, she is watching me…grinning.
I look over to Charity, whose eyelids look heavy, her empty bowl beside her.
“There is a loft just up that ladder beside the shelves, right above the fireplace. It should be large enough for the both of you. Plenty of blankets as well.”
I look towards where she is pointing, and I see the small alcove above the wooden steps, candles flickering against the narrow ceiling inside. My eyes feel heavy after my belly is full.
Before I can say thank you, Charity takes off her boots and climbs the stairs.
I nod at Freyja, who collects the bowls behind me as I follow directly behind Charity.
I can’t say I mind getting some much-needed rest, and this woman seems harmless enough. I did not know of any tales of a witch as kind as she, and I knew an animal will never trust someone evil. It is an added comfort she is clothed and not dripping with blood.
Even still, we need to get back home, even if it meant lying and reporting nothing back at all. Clearly, this woman meant no harm and can never kill a child.
I climb into the alcove, filled with feather-down duvets and silk pillows. Charity is nestled beneath one, and I hear her yawn as she blows out the candle beside her.
I lie down as well, careful not to touch her. I lirflat on my back and place both hands behind my head. I stare at the black above me and listen for her rhythmic breathing, indicating sleep.
“What do you think, Charles?” she whispers, surprising me.
“Think of what? That woman?”
She yawns again and turns toward me. “All of it. How lucky we are to have found a place to sleep. A place with food.”
I don’t respond, hoping sleep will take her so that I can think in silence.
“Yes, we are lucky.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” she asks lazily, her eyes closed.
I watch her eyes gently roll back and forth under her lids, her mouth slightly slack with sleep. Her hair is free of braids, laying loosely against her cheek in a way I have never seen before. I brush it back with the backs of my finger, twirling one tendril, wondering if she knows how beautiful she is.
“She is.” I whisper.
My dreams are vivid but very real. I am never a dreamer, but when they came, I felt as though I am living them in real-time. I toss and turn as I see Freyja kneeling beside me, stroking back my hair and whispering to me. I feel the urge to reach out and touch her, but my arms feel heavy, and my cock has grown hard against my thigh.
Just relax…you’re doing so well…
I grind myself into the soft bed cushions, needing a release so badly. It has been months since I have touched myself—years since I felt the touch of a woman. I will be lying if I said I didn’t think about it daily. But my calling required abstinence and what better time to start.
Just let it happen…it will be ok…you can have it this one time…
I flip to my back, and I watch as her naked body climbs atop me. Her waist nips in below her heavy breasts, and her wide hips flare out dramatically. My fingers twitch, and all I want to do is grip her hips and grind her down on me as hard as I can.
Yes, that’s it…good boy…
My head pushes back against the pillows, and when I look to my left, I watch Charity’s body moving up and down beneath the covers.
She is doing it again, and it made my nipples hard, a shock of pleasure bolting through me. I groan, feeling something clamp around my cock, and it feels so real, even though I know I must be dreaming.
Freyja is there again, only now, she throws back her head and undulates her hips over me in wide circles. I feel my balls tighten and a deep pressure at the base of my spine as I prepare for my climax. One small whimper from Charity’s writhing body beside me, and I’m sent over the edge, climaxing so hard I see stars. I clench my eyes tightly as I spill inside my slacks, my labored breathing bringing me out of my dream state. I open my eyes, and sure enough, there’s a wet spot on the front of my only pair of pants, and I am alone in the darkness, Charity snoring loudly beside me.
When we wake up the next morning, I am curled around Charity, my cock rigid against her thigh. I moan through my sleep and pull her closer to me, grinding myself into her.
Charity stretches, and I jerk back, sitting up abruptly.
I grab my shirt and pull it on over my head.
“We should go back…soon.” I say, short.
Charity turns to me, her cheeks flush with sleep and hair tousled into a perfect mess.
“Already? I like it here.” She pulls her dress on over her undergarments, turning away from me, even though I have already seen the pert, tan circles underneath her shift.
My cock is still half-hard.
I smell coffee beans, and when Charity and I lock eyes, I know she smells it too.
Her mouth drops open, and she scurries down the steps.
The first time she ever tasted the bitter brown juice, it is because of me. A thank you gift brought from London for my new family.
She watched me intently as I added a small amount of milk and sugar with wide eyes. An alchemist, creating a hot drink she sipped with both hands wrapped around the cup, eyes closed and inhaling the sweet scent it made.
The pleasantries never seem to stop in this magical house, and I wonder how much more Freyja has up her sleeves.
Chapter 19
Freyja
Charity happily sips at the cup I’ve poured her of coffee. I watch as her eyes close, and she savors the warm flavors.
Something about this one’s curiosity has caught my eye. She is brave, too, not something I am used to seeing from females.
Her eyes hold a promise, an optimism that only youth bring, bereft of any painful experiences just yet.
Her height matches mine, and her wide, full mouth is mesmerizing to watch.
“The entire town is scared. Perhaps you have seen something out of the ordinary…out here?” the boy asks again, clearly not sure what to make of me. His eyes move about the large sitting room, taking in every item here. I have no weapons, only my spells and my fangs. I did not need anything else.
He is unsure of me, of why I live alone amongst the trees and the animals. It amuses me and equally entices me.
I know exactly what he desires after my visit to his dreams last night.
Charity barely speaks unless she’s looked to the boy first. Not uncommon from my observations of many humans.
They do not look to be related, her of darker hair and eyes and his a much lighter. Though, I sense something of a connection or a bond between them. They are both sexually charged this morning, either recently engaging in something or perhaps thinking of it repeatedly. I can smell it, so thick, sweet and sour—a tincture of lust that leaves sparks on the tip of my tongue.
He has made his way to the wooden easel that showed up here a little before he arrived. He runs his fingertips over the bottom of it, looking back at me. “This is…beautiful.”
I grin at his passiveness, the way he softly says it. “It is. I think I may have canvas and paint to go with it.” I crook an eyebrow, setting down my mug.
He watches me as I walk to my largest altar, lighting the red and white candles, refilling Lilith’s wine cup. I break apart more pieces of fresh bread, and I can feel his eyes never leave my backside.
Is this the boy Garm has been seeking? He looks nothing like the men in the black coats. He looks as soft as a blanket, one to curl up beside, not one to cower from.
I should know better than to doubt The Dark Mother. She has delivered him here to me, just as I’ve asked.
I study them both, youthful yet mature. I feel no threat from either, but I have seen the way he looks at me. I have seen the way both of their eyes have lingered over my shape…my unconventional dress.
The thought of having them both, something I have never had before, sends prickles of pleasure down my arms and back. The life that vibrates within my fangs tingle and I lick the tips and hiss as it pricks me, a reminder to myself of what I am.
“So, tell me…why were you two alone, in the woods yesterday?”
Charity looks at Charles for the umpteenth time, and Charles clears his throat.
“Errands. We lost track of time and lost our way.”
“How careless. It can be quite dangerous here,” I say and sip from my mug.
Charity speaks up, “Thank you, so much for your kindness. How can we thank you?”
I grin, knowing full well they will never be able to leave on their own accord. They will only be able to pass my wards if I allow them to.
“We should really get back today; our parents will be worried.”
They both look to me for an answer as if they need the confirmation. I revel in holding them hostage for a few beats of silence.
“Walk with me first.”
“Take off your shoes…allow your feet to touch the growing grass and feel the joy from the Earth beneath them.”
They both do as I say, unquestioning, taking slow steps around the garden, murmuring to one another. I smell Charles’ fear and Charity’s curiosity; hers more pungent and overpowering than his.
Charity hurries to my side, quickly falling into step with mine. I glance at her and smile, her eyes twinkling with questions.
“These gardens are magnificent. Do you tend them by yourself?” she titters; her voice slightly higher pitch than normal.
I nod as we continue to walk the path that weaves its way around the garden and into the woods.
We pass the hot springs, surrounded by tall grass and cascading rocks, and I hear one of them softly whisper, ‘amazing.’ Though, I cannot tell which has said it.
Lilitu yips as she sprints ahead of us, and the ravens begin to gather at the clearing just before the shadowy trees appear at the forest’s edge.
Charity smiles down at the fox, and Lilitu bares her teeth as she reaches out her hand to the fox.
I bar my arm across her chest, stopping her from crouching down to the little feral animal.
“She is not friendly; her job is to protect me. Unless you want to lose some fingers, I will step back,” I command, looking down over her tall form from the corner of my eye.
She clutches her chest, and I sense an uptick in her heartbeat, but I cannot tell if it is fear…or excitement.
“I’m s…sorry…I just…like to think of myself as an animal lover.” She glances down at my outstretched hand covering her abdomen, and her cheeks flush. She swallows and grazes her fingertips over mine. I feel a small pang of guilt at my harsh tone, but I have saved her the pain of a nasty bite with my reprimand.
“Just because you love an animal, does not mean they will love you back. You must earn their trust, which can take years.”
I turn my body towards hers, and I can feel Charles’ broad shoulders close behind me, surveying the interaction between her and me. I take Charity’s hand in mine and reach behind and find Charles’ hand as well, warm and large, surprisingly soft for a man.
“Come, I will show you just how much my pets trust me.”
Chapter 20
Charity
The ravens crow and caw as they flock to Freyja, and it is as if I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. I blink a few more times as they perch on her shoulders, pecking at her glossy black hair. Her delicate collarbone is slightly exposed beneath her green dress, and my eyes linger on her fair skin in such close proximity to the birds’ sharp beaks.
She gently motions me toward her, and I take a shaky step next to her, marveling at the size of their long, feathered wings.
“Hold out your arm and stay still. Try not to hold onto any fear, just take breaths and clear your mind.”
I obey and do as she says.
Slowly, one of them walks down her arm, hopping to mine. She gently reaches out her other hand and hands me a piece of bread, and as I take it, the bird tilts its head, looking at me sideways from one eye. I gasp at his closeness, the startling black against black making me waver. His eye sucking me in like an endless, pitch-black sky.
I look to Freyja, and she nods while I slowly raise my hand to his beak. He pecks it, and I take in a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through my chest. I look back to Charles, and he has a feeble grin on his face as if he is trying to fake confidence for me.
