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A sigh left my lips at the feel of his cock filling me, and my head rolled back at the pleasurable feeling, only for a set of lips to swallow my moans as Tobias’s lips covered mine. Kalen rolled my hips against him, his lips going to my breast, his teeth tugging at my nipple as his tongue swirled around it.
My stomach coiled with tension, and heat washed over me. My inner walls quivered as the first ripple effect of my orgasm washed over me. Kalen groaned, and Tobias’s lips left mine, only for Kalen to grip the back of my neck, bringing my lips back to his. His kiss was hungry, and I shattered.
My pussy was pulsating and gripping his cock when Kalen’s lips pulled away from mine, and he groaned as warm jets of semen coated my insides, and his movements slowed just as I sank my teeth into his neck.
Fireworks exploded behind my eyelids as his soul bled into mine, giving me every piece of him. His magic was no longer his or mine but ours. My bond calmed, and I moaned as his blood flooded my mouth and coated my tongue. Kalen’s cock twitched inside me as he clutched me closer. My orgasm was prolonged by the feeling of his magic flowing through both of us, and my cries seemed endless as I rode out its effects.
I gasped, pulling my teeth from his neck. Kalen cupped my face in his hands, and the room spun, warping the colors around us. I felt like I was falling when Kalen kissed me gently. “I love you, and I never stopped,” Kalen whispered, pulling away, and he sighed, pressing his forehead against mine.
“So, please forgive me,” he whispered. His words made no sense to me until I was plunged into the darkness of his memories. I was aware I was being moved and could feel their hands touching me until I was no longer feeling anything but experiencing something else entirely. I was being thrown into new surroundings, ones that I wasn’t familiar with. It was at that moment that I realized I had traveled back in time to Kalen’s memories.
Chapter 78
Itwas like watching atimeline of the most significant memories he had, those that shaped him into who he was today. A glimpse into the depths of who Kalen truly was and the things that haunted him, made him happy, everything that made Kalen, Kalen.
His earliest memory was horrible. At first, I was an outsider watching until the vision warped, and I was suddenly Kalen, seeing the world through his eyes. Feeling what he felt, enduring what he endured. I found myself running into some room with gray walls with peeling wallpaper, exposing the mold-covered walls beneath. Beds lined the room in rows, large bay windows overlooked the city, and the room was ice cold.
He crawled underneath his bed by the window only to be ripped out by his ankles, his nails clawing at the wooden floorboards, making his fingertips bloody as they tore away his fingernails. His screams were horrendous and hurt my soul. The fear he felt made my heart race, and at first, I had no idea what he was running from until he was rolled over.
It was other children. Kalen was crawling on his hands and knees, blocked by legs and backed into a corner. The kids huddledaround him in the corner of the room. He tried to cover his ears with his hands over his head as they screamed and taunted. Throwing things and kicking and hurting him. Most of his childhood was spent being bullied relentlessly for being the weakest among the fae. But Kalen wasn’t just the weakest; he was also the smallest among his peers.
The bullying was horrendous, the things they did to him. Setting him on fire, urinating on him, beating him bloody, and the teachers or those responsible for looking after him turned a blind eye to it or outright condemned him by telling him he deserved it. Kalen’s childhood was tragic until one day that changed everything for him. Kalen looked worried as he sat in the playground by himself, and a new kid walked out the doors.
He thought it was another person to add to the list of bullies he already had. The boy reminded me of someone, and it didn’t take long before I recognized who he was. It was Lycus. He was younger in this memory. Lycus was just a boy, like Kalen. Only he was frighteningly bigger, and Kalen watched, horrified as he argued with one of the teachers before stomping off to sit on one of the bench seats. Lycus watched the other children play, his eyes falling on Kalen, and Kalen dropped his gaze, cursing himself for making eye contact with the scary-looking boy.
When the bell rang to signal class, and he had to return to the orphanage, he ran for the doors, hoping to go unnoticed. However, Kalen knew his bullies wouldn’t give him a day off when the one he hated most stepped into his path. The boy was a teenager and almost looked too old to be still in the orphanage Kalen called home. Kalen had to have been at least half the other boy’s age.
As the bully stepped out the door into the concrete playground, he took a step back. Kalen’s eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for an escape. He noticed Lycus watching curiously from where he still sat, ignoring the sound of the school bell. Kalen ran for the door across the quadrangle, only for the teenage boy to tackle him.
Kids rushed out the doors, circling and taunting him while the other kid gripped the front of his shirt and repeatedly punched him, making his nose bleed, and his eyes blur as they swelled. Pain rippled through me as I experienced what he did, the helplessness and the acceptance. Kalen didn’t fight back. He knew it was useless and only brought on more pain.
So instead, he just took it. He thought the boy would surely kill him that day. He promised Kalen he would before he aged out of the system. Kalen accepted it. In some ways, he hoped this was it, the day his torment ended. Just as his bully gripped his head in both hands, Kalen closed his eyes, knowing his head was about to be slammed into the pavement. Yet the deadly blow never came.
Instead, the weight holding him down was gone, and a collective gasp was heard from the surrounding crowd of children. Kalen’s eyes flew open to find his tormentor beside him on the ground, and the new kid that had arrived was punching into him, the bully’s head bouncing off the ground as Lycus pounded his face with his fists. Blood spurted out of the bully’s nose and mouth, covering the new kid.
Kalen was shocked but also petrified that Lycus would turn his attention to him when he was done. Lycus’s eyes were a demonic black, and he foamed at the mouth in rage. Kalen just lay there and stared, too scared to move. Lycus growled loudly when Kalen’s bully fell unconscious.
The other kids scattered and ran away in fear as Lycus stood upright, breathing heavily before his gaze turned to Kalen, who cowered away from him as Lycus stepped over the kid. Yet instead of offering Kalen a fist, he offered him his hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Are you okay?” Lycus asked him and Kalen just stared at him. No one ever asked if he was okay, and he suddenly found himself mute for another reason.
“You got a name?” Lycus asked him. Kalen nodded, and Lycus raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, are you going to tell me or can’t you speak?” Lycus asked him.
“Kalen,” he stuttered out.
“I’m Lycus,” Lycus told him, and Kalen looked down at his bloody bully lying unconscious on the ground.
“Come on, let’s find a first-aid kit,” Lycus told him, grabbing Kalen’s arm, but Kalen shook his head, pulling away. Lycus stopped and stared at him.
“I will get in trouble. The teachers don’t help,” he whispered to Lycus. That seemed to anger Lycus, who chucked his arm over Kalen’s shoulder.
“They’ll help, or I’ll make them.”
“They won’t listen. They don’t care,” Kalen murmured nervously.
“I’ll make them listen,” Lycus told him.
