Is that what that whole reaction was about? Did he know even while unconscious that the energy he was taking was from women? I roll my eyes, and his mother gives me a look that I choose to ignore. She can say “I told you so” later. Jak can also complain at me later. Leaning down, I thump him with my knuckle between his horns and bite back a giggle at his look of surprise.
“You are starving. You can’t afford to be picky,” I point out. “This isn’t like pulling up to a fast-food restaurant where you can have it your way. As it is, this is going to take forever if that is all that eating three people gave you.”
“Three not properly cultivated people,” Elsiana agrees as she flicks something invisible from her sleeve. “You are right that this is going to take far too long.”
Voices break out in song nearby, drawing my attention to a small group of people cheerfully gathered a short distance away. Carolers. What is more festive and merrier than a bunch of carolers?
“Elsiana, go over there and ‘persuade’ the nice couple selling cocoa to move their cart over here. I have an idea.”
Chapter 23
Jakfros
Icannot believe what my dear, sweet Shawna has done. She has saved me. Naturally, it is with my mother’s help, but Mother has been eagerly recounting the events and her admiration for my mate’s determination to seek help for me. Her devotion truly humbles me and feeds the fire burning for her deep within my heart that is greater and beyond any warmth that my annual Yule Feast provides.
I stretch languidly, feeling the heat of energy rolling through me once more. Coming from well over a dozen people, the energy itself feels chaotic to the point of being unsettling, and I admittedly feel a bit dizzy from it, but I am at least comfortably fed with enough holiday cheer to last well beyond the winter. Excellent.
That said, I resist the urge to shudder, my stomach recoiling slightly, as I lean in toward the female standing in front of me. She smiles in welcome, and it just makes it that much worse. I glance toward Shawna uncertainly, and she gestures with encouragement for me to proceed. I swallow thickly, my stomach flipping as I face the female again and try not to look directly at her. Maybe that will be enough—
“Go on, Jak.” My mother’s exasperation is clear in her tone of voice.
I bite back my annoyance. My mother has never been attached to anyone. Of course she would not understand. I struggle to contain my scowl, but my mother’s laughter indicates that I have failed completely to appear unaffected by her remark.
“Just think of it like eating something that is good for you, even if you don’t particularly want to eat it,” Shawna suggests before I can spit out the words on the tip of my tongue.
I give my mate an appreciative look and face the problem at hand. The human hasn’t moved, and her expression hasn’t changed from the vapid smile with which she greeted me. She is nothing more than a compliant living statue. My fingers twitch and I force myself to step closer as I reach out and tip her head back, angling her face so that her lips part instinctively as if waiting for her lover’s kiss. Little does she know that I am anything but that. In her dream state, I am anyone, but my mind can never fool me into believing that she is my Shawna.
Her gaze softens and her cheeks take on a pinker hue as she stares up at me vacantly. This is not real, and yet it feels too close to real for my comfort now that I have found my mate. It is even worse that she is watching this, though I know she does not understand my reluctance. It was bad enough when it was a matter of struggling to wait out the cultivation period and feeling overeagerness to feed from females. But now that I am confronted with this, it has introduced me to an entirely different torment that Shawna does not understand, and my mother sees as frivolous sentimentality. Either way, when it comes to them, this is no different from any other person I have feasted from. And in a way they are right—I need the energy and cannot afford to be so selective. I grimace and lower my head so that my mouth is barely within range to draw her energy.
Ice races through me, rising rapidly and forming into an extension of my being that I exhale as a long, living stream of frosty mist into her mouth. It is a part of me, sinking downdeeper into her, absorbing every drop of that particular holiday warmth and drawing that energy into its icy hold. I tremble slightly in reaction as it floods into every cell of my being, but I nearly break away when her sigh of pleasure reaches my ears. I freeze, my wings tensing with the urge to flee. I am a breath away from jerking away from her when I feel my mate’s warmth press against my wings. My tail curls around her like a lifeline, and my wings tremble anew as she strokes them comfortingly.
“It’s okay, Jak. I’m right here,” she whispers.
I inhale, and calm fills my mind. Shawna is my anchor as I draw the energy hungrily. I sip on it voraciously, drawing the brimming energy through my mouth into my being until, at last, I am satiated, and the feast has concluded. Privately, however, the true feast was in my mate’s arms, even if it nearly destroyed me. That was the feast of my heart and senses; and the Yule feast pales in comparison to it, despite its necessity.
As if sensing my returned energy, my mate steps back, giving me room to fully stretch my wings. My tail sweeps in a wide arc through the air, and I stretch my arms over my head, feeling invigorated. The entire time, the female in front of me doesn’t so much as blink. She just continues staring and smiling, though I can see a hint of exhaustion in her eyes. But that is normal. She is still relaxed and happy, and she is filled with that pleasure she experienced with the feeding. This side effect makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, but a quick glance at my mate’s smiling face assures me that she is unbothered by it as she paces in front of the carolers, looking them over.
“Everyone looks good,” she remarks before glancing my way.
Her eyes skim over me anxiously for a moment before a broad smile spreads across her face with its usual impish happiness. I am relieved to see it because it replaces the strain of worry that she has been wearing since I woke.
“Of course they are,” Mother retorts, shaking her head with disbelief. She slides off the colorful box she is perched on and adjusts her dress with a few casual sweeps of her hands over her hips. “Unbelievably sentimental—the both of you. Over what? Look at them,” she says, waving a hand toward them. “They don’t even realize where they are or who you are. This is all a pleasant dream for them, and nothing more.”
“But I know that they are not my mate,” I say quietly and sigh as I back away from the human in front of me.
