After a few minutes Malice groans again. “Why are you still pacing, Wolf?”
Emrys stills, wondering fleetingly if he should allow Malice to know such weaknesses. Ultimately, he concedes to the fact that if Aerin is his Alpha, then this Dragon-Fae is her second.
“I feel so manythingsin this skin,” Emrys says, gesturing to his Fae-like body. After eight years of being locked in his Wolf form, the sensations of this skin rake over his nerves like hot coals.
Malice is silent, maybe stunned by his honesty or perhaps something else entirely.
“Well…” He seems stumped. “At least sit down; that has to help.”
“It doesn’t,” Emrys snaps, going back to his pacing.
“What does help?”
Emrys finishes his length of the room and turns back to face Malice again.
“I don’t…” Emrys murmurs, frustrated, “I suppose I don’t really know.”
“Being in your Wolf form, that helps?” Malice inquires, pondering something.
Emrys nods. “But it isn’t feasible. I need to be able to be in this,” Emrys gestures down to the Fae-like skin he wears, “for longer stretches of time. I should have been able to go with you two today.”
Malice stands abruptly, moving across the room to open the door to where the Vipers are lounging. Emrys mostly ignoresthe conversation he has with them, his irritation with Malice for leaving in the middle of their discussion wiped away by the near-constant ache of worry he feels for Aerin. Emrys searches his mind for any hint of her in the Pack magic, but she is nowhere to be found.
When Emrys turns again, he all but slams into Malice. The Dragon-Fae holds something between his fingers, a mischievous look in his eye. The offending item appears to be herbs wrapped in thin paper.
“This,” Malice says, waving the item, “might help.”
Emrys looked at it skeptically. “What do I do with it?”
A chuckle rumbles out of the Fae’s chest and Emrys ignores the way it warms him. Malice takes the item and places one end between his lips before using a tiny flame on the tip of his finger to light the other end on fire. The burning herbs itch Emrys’s nose. He watches in rapt fascination as Malice inhales hard, the opposite end lighting up as it smolders.
Emrys doesn’t know what to do when Malice places his hand around his jaw, thumb on one cheek and forefingers on the other. Emrys becomes malleable under the Dragon-Fae’s touch, practically entranced by his blue eyes and the orange smolder of the burning herbs. Malice’s opposite hand removes the item from between his lips before he leans closer to Emrys. His fingers feel like they are scorching Emrys’s skin, in the best way. They apply pressure to his cheeks, forcing Emrys to open his mouth. His slight gasp is met with sweet smoke exhaled from Malice into him.
Emrys takes the smoke deep into his lungs before jerking away from Malice to cough. When he straightens again, eyes watering, Malice wears a half smile that makes Emrys look at him bashfully.
“Try again, you want to hold it in your lungs for as long as possible. When I exhale, breathe in,” Malice explains. Emrysonly nods, a part of him tingling as Malice wraps his hand back around his jaw.
Malice brings the item back to his lips and inhales again. Everything in Emrys’s body is both tightening and relaxing. Like his muscles and his mind are melting but his skin is tingling, a different kind of anticipation swirling in his gut.
This time, when the Dragon-Fae presses against Emrys’s cheeks, he is ready for it. He inhales the smoke deeply, holding back the offending cough as his lungs adjust to the way they burn as he holds the smoke inside them. When Emrys exhales, the smoke leaves his lips in a steady stream that floats to the ceiling between the two males.
“Good,” is all Malice says. The word makes Emrys’s whole body twitch in arousal. Malice gives him another one of those half smiles.
They go through the entire routine again.
“Why does it have to pass between two to work?” Emrys asks, eyeing the burning item again.
“It doesn’t,” Malice reveals, “It’s just more fun this way.” He inhales again before passing the smoke to Emrys in a near kiss with his hand holding stock on Emrys’s jaw.
Tension racquets between them as Malice does it again. And again. By the fifth pass Emrys is lightheaded with bliss. When he exhales, and the smoke dissipates between them, Emrys can’t take his eyes of Malice’s lips. He can’t stop his body from leaning in. He can’t stop his lips from meeting Malice’s with a soft, lazy sort of hesitation. Emrys isn’t sure if he only imagines the way Malice kisses him back.
They only touch for a brief moment before Malice takes the hand on Emrys’s jaw and forces space back between them. His ice blue eyes assess Emrys, unyielding.
“How do you feel now? Is that feeling gone?”
Emrys blinks. Thinks back, what feeling was he feeling? Certainly, it is gone now. All he feels now isneed. Distinct and palpable.
He merely nods.
