“Same thing if we get creative and rewrite a few classic allegories.”
“I’ll pass. Also, I thought your cock didn’t point toward women.”
“It doesn’t. Buuut,” he drew out, “for well-endowed curves, I’ll make an exception.”
“I’d rather kiss an actual devil or toad. I said, get your hands off me, or I’ll chop them off. I don’t want to be damned to hell, much less to get warts.”
Cackling, Lyrik released her. In tandem, I flexed my knuckles. Despite this quarrel with Aspen, the option of extracting the man’s intestines remained on the table.
Each of us chose a blazing lantern from the cluster on the ground, my eyes catching Aspen’s within a spark of orange light. Swerving, I peered at the lane, hunting for signs of dissent or danger. Aspen had infiltrated those knights in earnest with me. She hadn’t planned to lure me into a trap, nor to put Nicu in jeopardy. And regardless of her treachery, I believed her defense about Rhys threatening her mother, as well as the enduring guilt.
Yet. This did not absolve the rest.
I stalked into the woods with Lyrik while Aspen and Nicu brought up the rear, their free arms linking. If the woodland vetted its inhabitants, this sector emitted a safe essence of rich earth. Speckled mushrooms popped from the soil. The boughs appeared larger, their limbs thickening, wide and robust enough to balance wagons.
I observed, hypnotized as Aspen impulsively flounced ahead of me, her loose mane flapping like a banner. My steps faltered. It happened the moment she threw her head back and howled like a she-wolf, the smoke of her voice sailing down the route.
Awed irritation rose within me, unraveling like twine. Nothing with this female went as anticipated.
She and Nicu climbed the branch platforms, hands clasping as they capered from one to the other. Together, they beckoned us to join. Lyrik obliged, and I found my legs doing the same.
A transformation occurred, diluting the edges of my animosity. We traversed the boughs, cavorting at opposing levels, while Nicu sang into the abyss. At one point, my gaze flung backward as I sucked in a breath of Autumn, and I sensed Aspen’s precious stare, which felt spitefully magnificent.
***
We reached a winding lane flanked by candlelit gourds, the designated path guiding us to a bonfire meadow. The melody of pan flutes, percussions, and rhythmic clapping greeted our company.
People had dressed as cats, spirits, and dragons. They spun with partners, performing a hamlet dance.
Ale, mead, and cider sloshed from tankards. Shallow buckets held apples floating in water, and cottagers plunged their faces into the depths, attempting to snare the bobbing fruit with their teeth.
The dense crowd enabled us to blend in. Aspen flipped her hood back, the foliage motifs easily mistaken for kohl sketches instead of the real thing. Her crimped locks caressed the beauty mark above her lip, while my own mouth compressed.
Swiftly, she garnered the attention of an alpha pack. The motherfuckers—farmhands or apprentices, all her age—foamed at the mouth like bloodhounds in need of a mate. That Aspen paid them no mind did little to pacify the roiling in my blood. Jealousy had no place in our conflict. Yet I slid in front of the salivating shitheads and leveled a fatal glare on them.
Notably, revelers with features reminiscent of Nicu strolled about. Born souls, living among their Autumn kin. Like Jeryn, others did not possess attributes that made them physically recognizable, which only proved how well integrated everyone had become. This hard-won vision boosted my soul.
Nicu’s grin spanned his face. The instant this happened, he brought a new light to this event, a number of people stalling to take a second amorous look. While he did not possess his father’s height, athletic muscle, or sexual allure, Nicu struck onlookers with the same charisma. That, in addition to his refined cheekbones and approachable nature.
At court, his features attracted people more than it dissuaded them. Other times, they discreetly shuffled away, not wishing to offend his family. Yet in this moment, he embodied his parents, the hereditary magnetism undeniable. When others let go of their prejudices, they gravitated to him like plants to the sun.
But unlike his father, the attention Nicu drew hardly fazed him. Within moments, smitten males and females approached to introduce themselves, fawning over his costume and laughing at his jubilant comments. In particular, the gentlemen’s flirtations produced a tick in Lyrik’s jaw. While Aspen and I enjoyed seeing Nicu surrounded, the alchemist looked ready to hurl them across the meadow.
To compensate, he scanned the masses until locating a male whose lucid yellow eyes found him as well. Without looking back, and without a by-your-leave, Lyrik threaded through thecrowd. He cut a direct path, then stole the man’s pint and tipped the contents down his throat, his eyes never leaving this nameless conquest.
Against Nicu’s unique beauty, the stranger could not compare. However, tell that to my friend, who noticed Lyrik’s departure. Glancing from his admirers, Nicu located the philandering bastard just as he brushed his mouth against the other male’s ear, likely murmuring something debauched.
My liege’s breath seized as if someone had wrapped a hand around his throat. He faltered, his merriment dimming like a snuffed candle wick as he watched the interaction with a startled, crestfallen expression.
Aspen glowered at the rogue’s display. Then she whirled on Nicu. “I need a partner. Dance with me.”
Dragging him from the group to the bonfire, she proceeded to lift his spirits. As they laughed and bounced in a circle, I propped myself against an oak tree, ignoring the come-hither glances of every maiden, my cursed attention held hostage by the jut of Aspen’s hips.
The more she gyrated that ass, the more I doubted alcohol would solve the problem. With each effort to seek visual refuge, my attention slow-crawled back to her forsaken body, awash in decadent flames and a blazing, drunken moon.
The music pounded, a dissonance of instruments. A legion of emotions warred inside me, sharp and tender, guilty and selfish, anguished and enraptured. I could not reconcile them.
“You look like a lost man,” someone observed.
