I realize that she is feeding me more of the berries in a less direct and far more erotic manner, and I shiver in reaction. This shiver differs from earlier, however. It is more of a shift within me that knots our bond more tightly than the dizzying feeling that initially seized us within the influence of the winter berries. Instead, the winter berries have settled in a consistent burnwithin us, feeding like a current between us, drawing us closer together with every touch and exchange of affection.
Everything has shifted from the drive of pleasurable frenzy into something deeper, revealing more and more the true nature of their magic as they weave our bond tighter. We are becoming so close now that I can feel her emotions skimming over mine and her heat is like a constant balm to my senses. It is so much a part of me that her energy has become a second thread within me. Not nourishing me but sustaining me with a sense of completeness that feels as if I have found some missing part of myself by allowing myself to embrace my love for her fully.
A thought occurs to me as I feed her a sweet with my opposite hand. She is my mate... not prey. One thought and my whole world changes, and everything I have always known realigns. This is why, and it is a terrible and beautiful revelation. It is why frost demons do not bond with humans that they feed from, not the way a succubus or incubus might. The line between mate and prey is never blurred, and now I understand it. She can only be one or the other. As she is my mate, she can no longer be my prey. This is wonderful, but also an untimely disaster. As my mate—something I now understand why it is virtually unheard of among frost demons—she is not capable of feeding me. It was the explanation that my mother always skirted around whenever she chastised me to stay away from human women. Now I understand. It is Yule and I do not have access to the specific energy I have been working so hard to cultivate within her.
Or, at least, not enough.
“Shawna, you do plan to remain with me... right?” I hesitantly ask.
Her blue eyes are soft and dreamy with happiness, but they clear a bit at my question, and she gives me a quizzical look. “Of course. I’m not giving you up, and it’s not like I could bring you home.”
I shift in place, my tail twitching on the floor beside me, though I fold a wing around her to comfort myself as much as her. This is not exactly where I was trying to go with this conversation.
“You could,” I reluctantly reply. “As long as it is winter, I am capable of stepping into the realm. Frost demons are one of the few species that have territories straddling numerous realms. Another would be the thanatos, the death-bringing demons.” Her eyebrows rise in surprise, but I continue speaking in a rush before the conversation gets further derailed. “Since you are going to remain, there is something important that we need to discuss. Though I do not regret it in the slightest, it seems that there is one aspect of this bond that I did not previously understand.”
Her brow furrows slightly in response. “What do you mean?”
“We... because of this bond binding us as mates...a bond which I cherish above all things, I must add... we... that is to say...” I say, fumbling pitifully with my words.
I feel as if I am drowning as I try to grasp for the right words to convey the situation properly. It seems that I am incapable of finding the words to make this situation sound less dire. And the more I try, the worse I am making it until even Shawna is straightening within my hold and looking at me with concern.
“Jakfros, spit it out. What is it?”
At last, I just settle for the truth in the simplest terms. There is nothing left that I can say at this point to make the situation sound better than it is.
“I cannot feast fully from your energy,” I reply forlornly.
She blinks and her mouth drops open. “Y... you can’t? Wait... what? How is that even possible? You said that everything that you do here is designed for this.”
“For prey,” I explain and sigh wearily. “It seems that my timing is truly terrible. I gave you the winter berries as a Yule giftnot even anticipating that they would bind us tightly together and far too quickly to benefit my more immediate need.”
Shawna drops back onto her haunches, her back cradled by my wing as she stares at me in horror. “You mean that you are going to starve.”
I shake my head. “Not quite, but close. I will be able to draw some energy from you, and throughout most of the year I shall enjoy the benefits of our bond that few others get to enjoy. But for the purpose of the feast—”
“I am useless,” she finishes.
Hearing the note of sadness in her voice, I cup her cheek and tip her head so that her gaze meets mine. The ice fire stirs within us, looping between us with its intensity.
“Do not say that, beloved,” I implore as I reverently stroke her cheek with my thumb. “You are the one that I cherish the most. You are not useless. What you give me is more important than the brief warmth of spirit on which I am sustained.”
I press my lips to hers, my tongue dipping between her lips. The sweetness of the winter berries lingers still, but beneath it I savor the rich flavors that linger on her tongue. I lick the inside of her mouth, dragging my tongue across every soft surface within that hot little recess. The ice fire within me responds quickly. It builds and ripples through the bond, its energy gathering and vibrating between us. Her energy wells up in response, a sweet and vital flow that washes over me. It is like the sweetest of wines, flowing from an eternal spring. It is a true treasure, and I feel like I am a male, long dying of thirst, who finally knows the glory of tasting the sweet relief of water upon his tongue for the first time. Truthfully, it is better than that. It is like having every imaginable thirst satisfied all at once. But it isn’t nourishing. It doesn’t satisfy the hunger. Instead, it makes me more ravenous as I draw her once more against me, my mouth ravishing hers with hungry kisses.
I growl against her mouth as my urgency begins to peak. Her naked body is lush against me, flesh against flesh. She straddles me as I draw her into my lap, and our bodies glide against each other in an erotic dance as we kiss, seeking to ignite our mutual pleasure with the rise of the ice fire between us. Her heightened energy continues to flow over and through me, refreshing me, invigorating me, drawing my heart to beat in time with hers. Flooding me with warmth and joy. With every break of our kiss, she whispers nonsense in my ear, words that become a pleasant hum of sound, a song of cultivated high-frequency energy rushing through me. The pleasure flowing through me is unlike anything I have felt before. My cock stiffens and thickens with its engorgement in reaction. It also aches more than anything I have ever borne before. It is nearly unbearable, but the relief of her hot cunt swallowing it as she lowers herself onto my sex changes its essence, making my back bow with pleasure.
I kiss her deeply, my mouth mating with hers as her body rocks on mine, her breasts brushing my chest every time she sways forward. Her hips lift with her momentum, and my cock withdraws for a moment before filling her again every time she drops her hips. Every clench of her internal muscles is accompanied by that musical flow of energy. Every drop of her hips sends a current of energy rolling through me so that it echoes through my blood. It is so sweet and delicious that my ecstasy spins higher as the bond between us grows and expands, melding us closer together with the magic of the winter berries.
This is the glory that so many demons seek. And yet, I can see why it is often in vain. Despite the enthusiasm with which many demons partake of the berries, that magic alone is not enough. It is not just the magic of the berries, but the love that has grown and been nurtured. That must be truly present for the magic of the berries to strengthen the bond and cement it. And this ecstasy is its reward. And the reward is truly sweet, though I ambeginning to have doubts whether I will survive the intensity of the pleasure coursing through me.
My cock jerks furiously and my back seizes with a pleasure pain that makes me howl as my suddenly hot seed boils through me. For the first time in my life, I am ejaculating live, fertile seed rather than the cool dead essence that I spew into my hand, or even what I had previously pumped vigorously into my mate. My semen sprays in thick ropes within her, my body jerking from the effort of it. And though her sweetness flows even richer and deeper through me as she shouts her pleasure and strains, her energy gushing from her feminine core, filling empty voids that I never knew existed before as her sexual fluid drenches me.
I growl and cling to her, my hips pounding frantically as I meet her stroke for stroke. We cry out together as another orgasm tears through us, and then another. I cannot get enough of her essence and the energy flowing through it and through her. I tip my mate back against my wings and rut her until she writhes and shrieks her pleasure, my cock giving up more and more until it floods from her tight channel, changing the quality of her sweetness, making it deeper and richer as we meld together within the fire of our mating. I am existing in an icy inferno of pure ecstasy, and yet my gut feels even more hollow as it pinches with hunger. It pinches so sharply that I briefly fall forward before forcing myself to break away and drop onto my back to avoid crushing her.
Her voice shouts my name, and my eyes drift closed as weakness fills me and hunger gnaws at me in a torrent of suffering that I was not prepared for.
Fool! As sweet as her elixir is, I gave up all of my own essence while in the grip of the hunger. If I die now, it would surely be a mercy to spare me from this suffering. At least I had touched true happiness, even if just once.
