“You are limping.”
“Well, yes. That happens when…” Ivy flushed as she remembered the past two weeks, every day the pollen making itself known. And every day, he helped her through it.
Thoroughly.Roughly. Each time, she was afraid it would be the last. If she wouldn’t literally die without it, would he still want to have her? She didn’t want to find out. But she would have to. Even if the pollen didn’t wear off before their month together was up, her Circle was still coming.
“I can just use my tongue,” Vale offered. “I could ignore your begging.”
Ivy giggled awkwardly as she remembered her fevered pleas. When the pollen came over her, she would say almost anything. Like how much she craved his big, inhuman cock and wouldn’t have anything less.
“Do you…” Ivy avoided his eyes, watching a branch bend out of her way instead. “Do youwantto ignore it?”
Vale didn’t speak for several heart-stopping seconds. Long enough for Ivy’s mind to race to every time that he touched her softly: pushing her hair out of her eyes with one gentle claw, shielding her face from the waterfall as he cleaned her after.
“It does not matter what I want,” Vale said finally. “If you are too sore to work, you are useless to me.”
It was a blow. But it was nothing Ivy hadn’t heard before. It was why she had agreed to be the Skullstalker’s offering in the first place: to be useful. Her uncle did love her, of that she had no doubt. But if she wasn’t useful—gathering food, darning socks, and helping with the never-ending chores that came with constant travel—he would have left her at an orphanage when she was small.
“I’m not injured,” Ivy insisted, flushing harder as she thought back to how Vale had examined her yesterday, prying her hole gently open to check for blood. “I’m just… tender.”
The next step made pain radiate all the way up to her core. She winced again, and Vale stopped walking. Ivy started to protest, scared he would order her back to the nest again, but Vale only knelt on the forest floor.
Ivy frowned, unsure what to do. His arms were full of ribcages they picked from the thickets.
“Climb on my shoulder,” Vale explained.
Ivy hesitated. Should she just… hop on? She’d never climbed on someone’s shoulder before. Not even when she was a child and liable to be carried around. Besides, he grew weaker every day, even though he tried to hide it.
“Ivy,” Vale prompted.
“You’re tired,” she said. “I shouldn’t?—”
Vale growled, more annoyance than threat. “Just do it.”
Ivy sighed and heaved herself onto his robed shoulder, her legs dangling over his chest. Before she could settle, he stood up so fast she shrieked.
“Sorry,” she said, clinging to his antlers.
She expected him to growl at her. Or brush her hands off his antlers, which she would let go of if she weren’t so high up in the air. He was always startled when she touched them.
But Vale simply kept walking, his glowing green eyes fixed on the shrubbery as it peeled back to let them pass.
“I will fix this,” Vale said. “There will be no more pain soon.”
Ivy paled. Was he going toeather? She thought they were getting along!
“What do you mean?” she stammered.
“There is a spell,” he began, and she sagged against him with relief. “I would have gotten it sooner, but…”
He glanced down at the bones in his arms with an unreadable expression, his gait faltering. Then he looked up and his stride went back to normal—fast and focused, always heading to the next task.
“You are hurting,” he continued. “I cannot have you distracted. I will do it today.”
“Oh,” Ivy said quietly. “Thank you.”
Part of her was disappointed. She liked the pain, in an odd sort of way. It added to the pleasure of it all, like adding spice to her dinner.
She swayed with his steps, unable to shake the feeling that she should say more to thank him. But she knew he wouldn’t appreciate it: whenever she let her touch linger, he pulled away. Sometimes there was a strange look on his face before he did so, or his eyes stayed on her for a long moment. But he always pulled away.
