Mabon gives me a soft smile of approval as he finishes laying the fire. Then he clicks his fingers and the flames roar to life. Casting the old ruins in a flickering orange glow that matches the sky above.
Mabon settles cross-legged onto one of the sleeping bags. Then he glances up at me with a questioning look because I’m standing here dithering.
“I…um…I couldn’t find hair pins, but they had these long thin hair clips and I got the most sparkly ones they had and I thought you could teach me how to do your hair properly.”
I fumble as I pull the small paper bag out of my pocket. I pull out one of the hair clips and hold it up for him to inspect.
Now it is time to be brave and look at him to see what his reaction is. Deep breath. Hold it in. Look up.
Oh my. Is he really blinking tears away?
Suddenly, he jumps to his feet and flings himself at me. His arms wrap around my back and he squishes the life out of me. Damn he is strong.
“Jamie taught me about hugs!” he exclaims proudly.
He releases me, and I suck in a much needed gasp of oxygen. But there is no time to gather myself because now he is pulling me down to sit next to him.
I shyly offer him the comb I also bought, and he snatches it from my fingers with a squeal of glee. Butterflies swirl in my stomach. Mabon is pleased with my gifts.
The joy of that zones me out a little and I only half listen as he talks excitedly. But I pay full attention to what he shows me. Time drifts by as if in a dream. I never knew there were so very many ways to twist and braid hair.
I notice that he never allows me to undo all his hair. He makes me redo my attempts a thousand times, but each time he ensures I leave at least one twist in place. I will remember this in the future. Whenever I do his hair, I need to do one section at a time.
“Do this one again,” he says as he runs his fingers along one of my attempts.
It is a bit sloppy. I can see where I went wrong. I need to keep the tension even.
As my fingers pick up silky strands of his hair, my hands brush against his horns. He shudders. It’s not the first time he has done that.
I pause. “Does that feel good?”
The air between us grows heavy. Expectant. As if it is holding its breath.
“Yes,” Mabon says softly.
And just like that, my blood begins to burn. Arousal, never far from the surface these days, awakens.
Very carefully, very purposefully, I run my hand along one of his curling horns. It’s far warmer than I was expecting. And almost soft.
The sound Mabon makes is like nothing I have ever heard before. Guttural. Primal. Carnal.
I like it. A lot. It is the best noise I have ever heard. I run my hand along his horn again. This time, I swear it twitches and swells under my touch. That divine noise pours out of Mabon again.
I grin. “You like that, don’t you, Mabpie?”
He goes ramrod straight and freezes. My hands fall away from his horns.
“What did you call me?” he snaps.
Oh shit.
“Um…Mabpie. Your name and magpie, because you are like a magpie,” I explain hastily. “It’s your spirit animal thingy.”
I thought it was cute. I really didn’t mean to insult him.
“You have gifted me a name?” he whispers hoarsely.
“Yes?” I answer tentatively.
