Page 63 of On Burning Paths

Talon comes in my ass first, and it feels sticky and wet and good. Thorian is next, coating me with his cum and making me moan. Finally, Fenric explodes into my mouth, his hot seed so delicious that I can’t believe I went this long without tasting a man.

Afterward, we stay together in the water for a long time. Nobody speaks. Nobody needs to.

When I look up, I catch the sight of a blue sky through the small opening at the top of the cave, through which the water falls. It jolts me back to reality. We’re in the middle of the Trials, and, like Thorian said, if we linger for too long, the gods will send something to move us along.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“What?” Thorian asks, tensing.

“We can’t just stay here forever, can we?”

All three of them look at me, and it seems to hit them at the same time.

Thorian releases a deep breath. “No. No, we can’t.”

"Alright," I say, pushing against them, and they pull out of me and give me space. "We need to move."

Everyone moves slowly as they head for the fire and our dry clothes. As we move, I look back up at the blue sky. It’s clear, without a cloud inside. My mind flashes back to the night before, and reality sinks in for the first time.

"The blood moon," I say.

Silence.

We all look at each other.

"We forgot about the blood moon," Fenric says slowly.

"We survived the blood moon," Talon says, sounding genuinely surprised. "We just... didn't notice it."

"We were somewhat occupied," Thorian says, and if I'm not mistaken there is a very slight color to his cheeks.

I start laughing, and once I start I can't stop, and after a startled silence Fenric joins me, Even Talon is smiling. And Thorian stands there looking long-suffering but not entirely unhappy about it.

"Do you think the other teams survived?" I ask, when I've recovered enough to speak.

The mood shifts slightly. We all consider it, the unspoken weight of what a blood moon means for people who weren't, as it turns out, otherwise occupied.

"Some of them," Thorian says. He doesn't elaborate. He doesn't have to.

We dress quietly, moving around each other with an ease that feels new and settled at the same time, passing things, making room, the four of us occupying the space together without friction. Fenric disappears out of the cave and comes back with eggs, which he cracks onto a flat rock, hot from the fire, with a look of deep personal satisfaction. Talon watches him do this with the expression of someone who finds the whole enterprise charming and mildly absurd in equal measure.

Thorian turns to me. "How are you?" he asks, his eyes moving over me carefully. He’s not searching for last night specifically, just checking.

"I'm well," I say. "Genuinely."

He steps closer. "I want to be sure you don't feel⁠—"

I rise up on my toes and kiss him, which stops the sentence efficiently. When I pull back, his hands are at my hips and his expression has gone from careful to something considerably warmer.

"I felt completely safe," I tell him. "I wanted it. I have no regrets."

He searches my face. "None?"

"Well." I pause. "One, perhaps."

Something flickers in his eyes. "Which is?"

"That we didn't have a soft bed," I say mournfully, and watch his expression shift from concern to a mix of exasperation and amusement. "And perhaps some chocolate. And strawberries⁠—"