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I rolled to my feet smoothly, my abdominals flexing, and walked closer, plucking Huff from her warm cleavage. “Bleedin’ Hell, lassie, did you take a breath at all during that entire explanation? I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.” I inhaled sharply as the back of my fingers brushed the soft flesh curving the swell of her breast, then deposited Huff into a Heechu pile. My best friend, naturally, huffed at me as he snuggled in with the others all the same.

Unwilling to ignore the urge, I yanked Miko to her feet, draped my wings over the back of the nearest armchair, and sat, settling her on my lap and curving around her. All of this discussion about the Heechus’ history, not to mention my own past, brought up too much for me not to seek some form of comfort.

Normally, I would just cuddle with Huff, but Miko was too tempting not to hold, especially with her mouth-watering scent and this fucking fake bond begging me to touch her.

CHAPTER 12

Unexpected Partners

MIKO

Bane held me tightly and I closed my eyes, willing myself to breathe evenly, his arms crossing over themselves as he hugged me, a slight tremor moving through his body and the tip of his tail smacking into the floor and the furniture. Frowning, I slid my palm along where the tail lay next to his outer leg, closing my fingers around it and winding it around my waist, adding it to our embrace.

Whether I trusted him or not, I wasn't oblivious to his emotional overload, and if I wasn't careful, I’d be forced to watch him suffer another panic attack. Nonetheless, I was far too familiar with them to allow it if I had a chance to staunch the symptoms before the panic truly set in.

While I could not let myself get that attached to my grotesque, I would allow this kindness. For now. Hoping to distract him, I ran the tip of his tail through my hands slowly. “Bane? Can you just give me the highlights?”

I shivered as he breathed me in, his nose skimming the hollow of my throat. “Remind me what I said last?” he asked, his gravelly voice more subdued than I'd ever heard it, even his accent had softened.

“You said that the Heechus weren't violent, so, I can imagine those magical battles were…” I trailed off, combing my fingers through his hair, careful to avoid his horns. The strands separated and moving the same way a human’s hair would, despite being made of stone.

How does it still move so naturally. I bet most people wouldn’t be able to tell it was made of granite.

It was fine enough that it almost felt like extremely thick, coarse hair. It wasn’t too different from Monstera’s actually. I pressed my lips together, stifling a laugh. Just thinking about the two of them having things in common made me want to smile.

“Right, so,” he said, drawing my attention back to him, “because they are so gentle and generally avoid conflict whenever possible, they lost numbers by the thousands. It also didn’t help that the faye that created them lived the life of an academic. For the most part, the people the Heechus interacted with were intelligent, considerate beings, preferring to fight their battles with words instead of swords. The Heechus loved the academic lifestyle so much they spawned in libraries all over the world, particularly if they were pared with an institution of learning.”

“As in higher education of any sort, such as universities and colleges, right?” I questioned, intrigue and excitement bounding together inside my chest.

“Mphmm,” Bane acknowledged, the resulting rumble from his chest tickled my side where it leaned against him as he continued.

“For a time, the Heechus were in almost every library. They also expanded into public libraries and even, on occasion, private libraries of those who had magic in their blood. The HHC, as you dubbed them, burned countless libraries to oust the Heechus. Now, they fear most witches, even if they aren’t dark,” he said, sorrow lancing his words.

I ran a hand through my hair, untangling the knots at the end. “You and the Heechus hate all witches then?”

Bane grunted. “I will not say that I particularly like them, but witches, they have their uses. The Heechus are a nearly extinct race and do not trust lightly. They're made up of more white magic than anything else, so it’s not in them to harbor much negativity.

I smiled at Huff, his back facing us, their cuddle reminding me of a puppy pile, then observed all of the other snuggling Heechus on the bookshelves. “No wonder they're so easy to love.”

Bane smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, lacking that familiar spark of mischief. “That they are.”

“The rivalry, for lack of a better term, continued over the years and now,” his tail lifted to gesture around us, “this is all that's left.” A few, quiet gurgley-growls issued in response.

I sniffed, working to keep my emotions in check. I could dwell on the absolute unfairness of that another time.

Bane looked down at me, his horns carving through the air and oddly large cat-shaped ears twitching, they reminded me of an oriental short hair’s. It irked me that he could still peer down at me even though I was sitting on his lap, his massive frame and height so much larger than mine. My lips parted as I watched his wings spread leisurely, stretching out vertically behind the armchair. I wanted to explore all of the finer details of his moth wings, not to mention the remarkable, glittery tattoos over his what I now realize is stone fur all over his body.

Bane’s breathing hitched as I ran a fingertip down the lines of runes tattooed on the left side of his face, spanning from his hairline, over his high cheekbone, and to the sharp cut of his jaw. Unlike the others, the hue of these runes was much darker and easily visible. I wonder it says. It must be significant, given its placement.

He swallowed thickly, the knot in his throat bobbing seductively and drawing my eye. “No, the HHC is very aware where the last of the Heechu are but have been forced to change their tactics. We rarely see them in person, but starting a couple of months ago, they devised a new method of trapping their enemies into fairytales. Specifically, the fairytales in this library.

“How do they manage that if they can't be face-to-face?” I wondered, my stare moving to his lips. Bane groaned, his hips shifting beneath me. Heat stole over my cheeks as a hard bulge pressed against my ass.

“I'm not going to be able to finish this conversation, Honeybee,” he breathed, his voice the deepest I’d heard it yet, “if you don't stop fingering my horns.”

My lips flattened. What is he… My eyes flew to where my fingers played absently with the tip of one of his horns. “Oh, fuck,” I yelped, ripping my hand away, flailing it midair, then holding it above my head, unsure where to safely place it.

Bane squeezed his eyes shut, his body shaking. My stomach churned as I fought the urge to apologize. Did I hurt him somehow?