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A Dream of Sundered Webs

Page 86

by N. Cáceres

The end was always the same, though. Every night, I would find myself sneaking into the cozy warmth of Brittle Spears’ bed. I would ignore the way his eyes slivered open, or the way he was already lying on his back with his arm outstretched, the coverlet pulled down, and a warming stone tucked into the empty side of his bed. I would ignore the fact that he always wore satin breeches rather than sleep in the nude. I would even ignore the way his arm curled around me as I tucked myself into the comfort of his body.

I convinced myself that I woke on my own before the dawn crept in. Told myself he didn’t notice when I slipped out of bed and crept back into my own tent. The convenience of the wooden toggles, which should be used at night to secure the tent opening when left undone, was explained away as Brittle Spear being sloppy.

We never talked about it during the day. We never acknowledged it. He never hinted at it, not in all his laughing, mirthful teases, not in any of his flirting. It was a quiet secret we both allowed each other to believe the other didn’t know about. He indulged my delusions and let me have the small comfort of not sleeping alone as we traveled through terrifying stretches of wilderness that, had I traveled them with my three human companions, surely would have eaten us alive.

And I needed that reprieve. I needed his innocent, undemanding care. The pressure of everything I felt for Emrys, and all the complicated, conflicting, messy feelings I had for Brittle Spear, was too much for me. I retreated; I ran from it because it was easy, convenient to ignore. But as the days stretched out, the more he gave me space and a simple, constant presence without demanding or forcing his suit, the more I wished he would.

The night we camped next to the singing river was the worst. The comfort of his body had turned hot and sharp. Where his skin touched mine, I grew feverish. I forced myself to lock my wrists against my chest so my hands wouldn’t wander the taut, silky planes of his body, wouldn’t seek to discover new wonders of pleasure between us. I tortured myself all night, lying next to his sleeping body, wishing I dared to just take what I wanted, and I wanted him so bad that the memory of his kiss dried my mouth and quickened my pulse.

By the time dawn was stretching fingers toward the foot of the canvas, I was mad with the desire building in my blood, crazed with my hunger for relief at his hands. Creeping across the grass was the hardest thing I had done in a very long time. Every blade crushed under my foot felt like a knifepoint threatening me to return to his bed and make him sing for me.

I didn’t bother to return to bed like I usually did; instead, I paced, hoping to get some of the pent-up energy out of my blood. Anything to stop the image of his lips on my skin, his hands tracing the plush wilderness of my curves, the slick sounds our bodies would make from flashing behind my eyes with every blink.

I threw on clothes, whatever was still in my trunk, and pulled on a pair of boots. I needed to go for a walk. Maybe lie under a tree far away from the camp and slip my hand under my skirts and ride it until the need to ruin him on the blade of my passion was gone.

The camp was already awake by the time I shoved the flap aside and stormed through it. Fae were already sitting with their breakfast bowls and chatting in soft, humming voices.

I spotted Emerald standing all alone and looking lost, and my ire softened like butter on a grill. “Hey,” I mumbled to the silent gem.

She turned a bright smile on me, the low sunlight sparking through her face and bouncing off her inner smile. She looked excited to see me, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her exuberance, momentarily taking my mind off the multitude of discomforts.

“I’m going to go for a walk while they tear down the camp. Want to come with me? Figured I’d follow the river a while and see the countryside a little.”

She tilted her head as if considering my proposal, and then a flickering image of a waterfall splashed across her decolletage. She had begun wearing clothing, now that she had easy access to the deep V cut dresses that allowed her to communicate, another thing that reminded me of Brittle Spear, who had provided the accommodation without even being asked. He had watched her for a single day and quietly asked if she would like a gown cut low enough for her to show her images still. He hadn’t asked her for a solution, hadn’t asked if she liked being naked, or even ogled her at all. It was the quiet, sensible consideration he showed everyone, and it made me want to swallow a swimming pool of his cum directly from the source.

“Ooooh! Maybe! We can find it!” I answered her question, snapping back to the waterfall she had mentioned, fleeing the phantom taste of Brittle Spear’s cum.

She fell in line next to me, leaning just slightly on me.

We only got two steps before Green Man slid from behind a tent, as if he had been waiting for us. His dark eyes darted between us, then a charming smile split his wooden features. “Nothing. My dearest. Where are you going?”

“I figured we’d take a walk along the river while they break down the camp. We’ll be back in a little while,” I chirped with an excitement I didn’t actually feel.

“Have you not heard? Your Ard Tiarna has demanded we stay put for the day.” Green Man’s tone was overtly cheerful, but there was something under it, some quiet menace stalking at the edges of each word that slithered out of sight the moment I caught sight of it.

He turned his attention back to Emerald and looped his arm around her elbow, gently but insistently pulling her away from me. “Come along, Nothing. I’ll show you a pretty meadow where we can pick flowers to weave into your hair.”

Emerald cast me an apologetic look that had the same strange flavor that had bothered me for a short while before I dismissed it as my own foul mood coloring my view of my closest friends.

Alone once again, I debated my course of action. If I stayed here in the camp, I would be locked in with Brittle Spear, watching him wander among his soldiers, the scent of his sun-heated skin tempting me into bad decisions. But if I wandered the river alone for too long, I might find some creature or another and be at its mercy.

I chose the bear I didn’t know, versus the alluring seduction of the man I did know, and turned down a game trail that edged the line of the soft song of the flowing water.

Dawn turned to day as I ambled through tall grasses and the short fingers of pebbled shorelines. The water grew warm on my ankles as I waded through the shallows against the current. A hot bath was never out of reach, but the idea of a hot spring that might be feeding into the river was a temptation I could safely explore.

I followed the warmth until I was forced up onto the bank by an outcropping of sharp rocks but kept my eye on the rushing water as I crept through the dense forest.

The sound of kicking in water made me dip behind a tree as I came around a fork in the river leading to a natural rock-cut pool that branched off of it. Caution had me stalking through the low bushes to peek through their thick arms.

Long, lean, muscled limbs kissed by the sun splashed lazily through the steam rising from the hot spring pool before me, Brittle Spear’s long auburn hair floating aimlessly on the dark surface as he lay back into the sumptuous warmth of the pool.

I exhaled, and my mouth went dry. Had he been so handsome when we were in his rooms back in the palace? Did his skin glisten with health and invite my tongue to travel the roads of his veins to the junction of his thighs, where a bounty was laid out on a well-trimmed platter for me?

I watched him bathe, watched him float for a short time before he exploded with annoyance and slapped the water. A frustrated hand pushed through his unbraided, unbound hair as he growled. His head bobbed on the surface, and he took deep breaths as if he was trying to get a hold of himself before he rose back up to float. His eyes slipped closed, and I allowed myself the luxury of letting my gaze drink him in from the beautiful halo of his red hair to the thick, rock-hard length of him jutting up from the water.

My once-dry mouth watered with the need to wrap around that silky cock and listen to him moan for me. I couldn’t move, though. If I did, he would know I was watching him. Instead, I slipped my hand under my dress and dipped a finger into the pulsing wet depths of my slit, toying with my clit as I watched him. Sparks of ecstasy crackled like embers within me, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out.

Brittle Spear, none the wiser to my plight, tormented me by mimicking me. His hand wrapped around his length, and he slowly began stroking. Every curl of his fingers guided my own as he floated closer and closer to me.