She nodded. “Just maybe go slowly? You’re a bit larger than I’m used to.”
He flushed pink again, and was that a faint look of pride on his face? She tugged him down over her, pressing her hips up against him, and she couldn’t help the moan that left her lips as she felt the hard length of him against her belly. “You feel so good, Nalyx.” She kissed him hard, rewarded when he ground his hips against her. “I want you now.”
He shifted his weight, reaching down between them to line himself up with her entrance. She felt a spark of pleasure as his tip pressed against her. But he didn’t move forward. One hand came up to stroke her hair, his eyes roving over her face again. “Gods, you’re amazing.” He pressed forward, and Gantalla let her thighs fall open, welcoming the hot pressure of his body inside hers. They both moaned as he sank deeper, then Nalyx paused, breathing hard, his muscles tense. She could see sweat beading on his forehead. “I want you so much,” he muttered against her skin.
Gantalla flicked her tail sideways, then wrapped it up and over his back, using it to pull him towards her. He moaned, one hand sliding down to run along its length, where it curved over his hip. “Oh gods… Gantalla…” He thrust forward, crushing his lips to hers. His body rocked into hers, and she revelled in the feel of his heavy weight against her. His torso was braced on his arms, and she wrapped her hands around his biceps, his thick muscles as hard as a rock. His lips were everywhere, kissing her jaw, her neck, her eyelids, as their bodies moved together again and again. She could feel a hot pool of pleasure gathering in her groin, and she dug her heels into the bed, pushing herself up to meet him.
Then suddenly, almost before she was ready for it, the wave crested and she cried out, digging her claws into his back as she climaxed hard around him. He cursed and his hips jerked forward. He gave a strangled moan, thrusting hard once, twice… then he went still, breathing hard, his weight braced on one elbow as he rested his head against her shoulder. Gantalla was vaguely aware of her tail stroking lines up and down his back, but he didn’t seem to mind, so she let herself continue. If he were a hadathmet, his own tail would be wrapped around one of her thighs, holding her open for his attentions.
Then, to her chagrin, she realised that her claws were still gripping his shoulders tightly. She flexed her fingers, releasing her hold on him and wondering if she should apologise. Human nails weren’t nearly as sharp, and perhaps she’d injured him?
He groaned and rolled off her, and she sat halfway up, peering over his shoulder to see if she’d done any damage. There were clear red lines on his back. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” she asked, running a soothing finger over the marks.
But with his face half-buried in the pillow, Nalyx actually laughed. “What? No. Gods…” He rolled onto his back, still catching his breath. “Oh, fuck, Gantalla… That was amazing.” He looked up into her eyes, a hopeless smile on his lips. “No, you didn’t hurt me. That was absolutelyperfect.” He reached up to stroke her cheek, then a hint of concern crossed his face. “What about you? Are you okay? Was that…?”
Gantalla couldn’t help the smile that settled on her lips. “Absolutely wonderful,” she said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. Her hand was resting against his chest, her green skin a contrast to his pale brown. Her smile faded, though not because she was unhappy. “Thank you,” she said, feeling a sudden tightness in her throat. “I mean, for letting me be me. I would never have imagined…”
“You never have to hide yourself from me,” Nalyx said, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You deserve far better than that.”
She lay down, nestling her head against his chest, and he wrapped an arm over her shoulder. But then he shifted again, wriggling around to tug the blanket out from beneath them and dragging it over the top of them instead. They lay in silence, Gantalla’s mind comfortingly blank for the moment, though she knew that the worries of the day would be back soon enough. For now, though, she simply lay still, listening to the steady beat of his heart, enjoying the feel of his strong arm holding her close. On the far wall, a moth crawled along one of the wooden beams. A gust of wind blustered outside, wailing through the eaves for a moment, before settling again, and the world returned to a peaceful quiet. She felt Nalyx’s hand begin to stroke patterns over her skin, then it wandered up into her hair, his fingers tangling in the long strands.
“Can I ask you something?” Nalyx said, after an indeterminate amount of time. He sounded tense, anxious, even.
“What is it?”
“I’d never really thought about it before, but why are so many people trying to cross the gate? Do they realise they’re likely to get killed on the other side?”
For all the severity of the question, she was glad he’d asked. It meant that there was at least one human in this world who was bothering to think more deeply about the situation.
“They know,” Gantalla said sadly. “And it’s a risk they choose to take. The alternative is that they’re going to die in Chalandros anyway.”
“Why? What’s going on over there that they’d so willingly face death by the sword?”
Gantalla sighed. “Chalandros is dying. All the forests, the animals, the plants. It’s affecting the whole world. The mages have spent decades trying to find a solution, but even they’ve given up now. They say it’s because our sun is dying. As it dies, it loses its ability to hold itself together, so it’s expanding and getting hotter and hotter. The mages say that one day, it’ll swallow up the whole planet. And as it expands, Chalandros is getting hotter. The forests burned. Grassy plains turned into deserts. The oceans are drying up. There’s hardly any food anymore and everyone’s fighting over what little is left.”
Beneath her cheek, Nalyx’s muscles had tensed. “So… wait, are you saying that an entire planet’s worth of people are trying to come through that gate?”
“No. Not all of them. Chalandros has three gates, each leading to a different world.”
“What? There are more worlds out there? How many? What are they all like?” He sounded utterly shocked, and Gantalla could hardly blame him. The humans in general seemed like an entirely insular people.
“I don’t know much about it. I wasn’t a very good student as a young girl. I was more interested in playing sword fighting with my brothers and running off to look for mushrooms in the forests – which is something I sorely regret now. But as I understand it, there are nine worlds and eleven gates. Each world has at least two gates. A few of them have three.”
“So you’re saying that somewhere on Earth, there’s another gate that leads to another world? How is that even possible? Why don’t we know about it?”
“It’s possible it’s in a very remote place. Or it might be hidden, deep in a cave, for example, or even underwater. One of Chalandros’s gates was deep in the ocean. A lot of the merians would have escaped through that gate. According to the rumours, it’s permanently closed now. There’s nowhere left for them to go.
“And there’s another one on the far side of the planet, but it’s impossible to cross the equator now. Even the sand in the desert there is constantly on fire. They say that even during the night, the temperatures are over five hundred degrees. So crossing this gate is our only hope.”
“Gods, I… That’s insane. I don’t mean trying to cross the gate. I mean, why do we know so little about it? It’s all just so stupidly tragic.”
Gantalla said nothing. There was not really anything left to say. The minutes ticked by, then in the distance, she heard the faint chiming of the great clock on the town hall. Eleven o’clock. Time to go.
She sat up, brushing her hair out of her face, then stood up, trying to muster what little courage she could. They both dressed in the dark, shirts, pants, boots, then Nalyx strapped his sword to his hip and Gantalla fastened her necklace around her neck. She looked down at her own hands, taking a long, hard look at her claws, her green skin, and she wondered when she might next have the chance to be in her true form. Perhaps not for years.
Perhaps not ever.
She pressed her hand over the gem and muttered the witch’s spell, watching as her skin returned to pale brown.
