by S. A. Parker
“You can try and compel me to heal her all you like, Milord, but there’s nothing there to heal. The girl is dying. By all means though, keep trying.” She gives Sol a pointed glare before turning around and putting some elbow grease into her pestle and mortar she’s grinding like a boss bitch.
I like this woman, she’s got sass. Anyone who’s got the guts to stand up to Sol is fine by me.
“But I will make her a tonic, which should take care of the nausea. Dying of starvation would be a really shit way to go.”
I was wrong, I don’t like this woman at all. I fucking love her.
I ignore the chest growl Sol uses to show us all his alpha-male manliness. I’m not even sure why he gives a shit about me dying—he’s made it pretty clear lately how little he thinks of me.
I look over at Aero, who’s been struggling to keep his eyes from inking over since I woke in this quaint little healer’s hut, which smells like a herb garden had sex with some highly illicit drugs. He snaps his gaze to me then shakes his head, crunching his lids shut and continuing to pace like a caged bull.
His wings keep trying to pop out, like two back penises rising to the occasion. Not that I have a dirty mind or anything, but now it’s been confirmed I’m actually dying, I feel like my vagina deserves to have a little free rein. Kind of a last hurrah. Maybe I’ll let her try his massive penis out after all—death by Dawn God cock wouldn’t be such a bad way to go …
Oops, there he goes, storming out the front door. A couple of flaps of his wings and he’s gone.
Something tells me these guys aren’t used to losing people, I guess that’s the catch when you spend your life around immortals, rather than the mortal ones.
We’re fragile, but most of the time we have a lifetime to get used to that.
Drake’s curled over in a chair, face in his hands. I wonder if it’s an inappropriate time to ask for an orgasm? Yeah, probably. But I do feel like I need to make the most of this vagina while I still have enough faculties left to enjoy it …
The round woman with lots of freckles and a kind face hands me a small cup of tonic and motions for me to throw it back, I’m guessing in one hit? So I shoot it back like a boss and try to give her an encouraging smile, almost vomiting the foul tasting stuff back up when she turns to shuffle back towards her work bench.
Pretty sure this isn’t the effect it’s supposed to have … but hey, I’m no expert.
Kal’s looking out the window, one hand in his fuck-me trousers that cling to his arse like a candy wrapper and the other is grasping his face that has a two-day old shadow. I thought I saw a tear rolling down his cheek before, but then I quickly averted my gaze. I don’t know how to deal with that shit.
“How long?” I’m so glad Sol’s finally stopped yelling at the poor woman for doing her job.
She looks at me over her shoulder, then back to Sol before answering in a soft tone that she probably thinks my Lesser ears can’t hear. “Weeks, days … I’m surprised she’s still alive. I didn’t even have to taste her urine to know what’s going on.”
Cue feral Fae growling and hissing from High Fae Sun God pity squad. Aero lands by the door, tucks his wings in and storms the place, looking like he wants to reign some godly hell on the poor woman.
Overall, the mood is sombre as fuck, and I’ve had enough.
“Right,” I say, pushing my covers back. “It’s been fun and all, but I only have a few days left to live and I don’t want to spend them in here, marinating in my own pity party.” I stand up and nobody tries to stop me, thankfully, because I’m not against using the ‘dying girl card’. Low, even for me.
I storm out of the hut like a badass, carrying my box and wearing nothing but a light linen shift, though it’s not really storming because I’m super lightheaded and weak. But yeah, very quickly I realise I have no idea where the fuck we are, except that it’s high on a hill overlooking the ocean with nothing to see forever but that tiny island over there with two palm trees.
“Typical,” I mutter, realising why none of them felt it was necessary to chase me out of the hut. Where the fuck could I run to anyway?
I start down the hill towards the ocean, because it would be nice to feel the sand between my toes before I die. But once I reach the beach, I realise I don’t want to stop, and put my box on a tall rock where it’s nice and safe before heading straight for the water.
“Dell …”
Great. Kal probably thinks I can’t swim because I spent my life fucking instead of learning the basics of life. But no, Mum taught me to swim when I was two. She loved the ocean. She told me it had saved her once … that it had saved me.
The tears take me by surprise, just like the temperature of the water. It’s colder than I would’ve expected, but it’s probably exactly what I need right now.
“For fuck’s sake, Dell. Please, stop!”
That’s not happening, because I don’t just repel other people’s emotional baggage, I also repel my own.
I dive beneath the waves, relishing in the freedom and vulnerability as I churn slowly through the water towards the small island that looks like a swell place to die. It’s a slow process though, because my body’s got a bit of cancer gnawing at its insides. But slow is the new badass and I don’t intend to go down meekly. At least it gives me a chance to work the tears out of my system so I can pretend they never happened in the first place.
I’m vaguely aware that I’m being followed, but I do my best to ignore whoever was stupid enough to enter into shark infested waters to swim across a channel that’s probably a breeding ground for fish. In short, I’m surprised when Kal and I drag ourselves out of the water and onto the small island.
I look over my shoulder at him. He’s staring at me like I’m fucking insane. When he opens his mouth to say something, I beat him to it. “Let me guess, you’re about to ask me if I have a death wish?”
Now he looks like he wants to murder me. Fuck, I’m on fire.
He’s slick with the ocean and I know it’s inappropriate to be thinking this right now, but he really does look like wet sex on a wet stick. Hot damn. His hair’s dripping onto his face and his shirt’s clinging to his body like a second skin. I need to take a step backwards before my vagina latches onto a limb and slowly devours him, because actually, that anti-nausea tonic really did the trick. I was so wrong to pre-judge the foul-tasting liquid.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Dell.” He takes a step towards me.
“I’m not laughing.”
I can see the others launching off the shore over there; gold, silver, and auburn wings gliding through the air towards us. I hope Drake’s in an orgasm giving mood and that Aero’s keen for his magic lips to become acquainted with my labia. I’m not sure what I want for my last meal, but my vagina’s already put her requests in.
“Don’t fool with me. Those waters are swarming with sharks! I had to convince them all they weren’t fucking hungry just so you didn’t become their dinner!”
Oops. Now that, I do feel bad about. A shit ton of wasted energy right there, and these guys are going to need all they have if they’re going to survive this shit against the King.
I was supposed to be a leg up. I still can be …
The other three land behind me as I take a step towards Kal. “Use your wish.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” He’s looking at me like I’ve got jizz on my face.
“Why would I joke about this shit right now? You need the power boost, I need it off my conscience; it’s a win, win. Then I can go to my grave feeling like I’ve done my part.”
There’s some feral Fae growling going on behind me and I turn to see Sol pacing the island, Aero crouching while he kneads his palms into his eyes and Drake staring at me with his arms crossed over his chest.
I turn back to Kal. “I got you laid with my wish, the least you can do is fucking use yours.”
He shakes his head, taking two steps towards me and ending up right in my face. �
�You have no fucking idea how we feel, do you? No fucking idea.” He sidesteps me and storms over to that palm tree, dropping himself down next to it.
Man. Pity party has turned into pity island.
Fucking swell.
It gets better. And by better, I mean one of my gods’ ferries an oversized hammock here to swing between the two palm trees. I plan to have many orgasms on it, just as soon as I have the energy to rouse my vagina from her comatose state.
As it is, I hardly have the energy to lift a finger right now. That swim took a lot out of me. At least I’m not aching from the inside out anymore, so on a ‘feel good scale’—I’m not doing too bad considering I’m dying. But hey, it could be worse … the view’s to die for, I’m on an island with four fucking Gods and at least I’m not going to go out choking on a penis.
They take turns flashing in and out, never leaving me alone for a second, building a fire and bringing other supplies to make this a nice, cosy death island. I have to hand it to them, they’re resourceful. One of them even brought my box over for me, which I’ve got tucked safely at the base of one of the palm trees I’m swinging from. Another brought a fucking chamber pot and built a three-way wall around it, with sticks and old palm leaves.
I’m still angry with them, but I don’t want to die alone. And I lied, I don’t hate them; they just tore open a wound that I’ve gone to great lengths to hide from, and it fucking stung. They have no idea the pain I’ve gone through trying to keep that door sealed firmly shut most of my life.
I’m torn out of my melancholy by the sight of a speckle of gold barrelling towards us across the sea. I make a half-assed attempt at perching myself up and shielding my eyes from the sun, so I can catch a clearer glimpse of … what the hell is that?
“Is that Sap?” Kal sounds awed as all four of my Sun Gods peer into the distance, watching that gold speck get progressively bigger.
Drake nods. “The little fucker must’ve gotten bored. I hope she didn’t fry the hair off her babysitter to get away, like she did the last one …”
“What?” I croak.
Drake frowns at me over his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Dell. Your body needs the rest.”
I roll my eyes. I’m feeling fine at the moment, actually. Not in pain at all. Overbearing bastard.
He takes a step forward, holding out his arms as Sap converges on the air space of my little pity island, though she flies straight past him and onto my dying chest.
“Oomph.”
Her wings wrap around me and she licks my face with a tongue that smells suspiciously like fried sheep.
I smile at the little fucker. She seems to like me …
All good, no big deal … I’m definitely not crying. That’s drako drool. Certainly not a mix of both. Fuck, this thing is really pulling on my flaccid heart strings. I wish she wasn’t so goddamn adorable.
Drake’s scratching the back of his head, making that bicep bulge and looking like a total fucking snack, but his eyes are telling a different story. Like he’s a sad snack …
I pat the pint sized fire breather’s head and frown at my Dusk God. “Don’t worry, you’ll be her number one again real soon. I’m just fresh meat.” She slathers my face with more licks. “Apparently really tasty meat …”
And dying meat. Though I don’t think it’s the right time for another death joke just yet. Got to ease them in slowly, a bit like how I wish I’d been eased into anal.
I really hope the little fucker’s not basting me for a good roasting.
Drake turns around and storms off to the other side of the island, plopping himself down by the water, his back to me.
“Is my ancient Dusk God sulking because he’s jealous of a dying girl cuddling his pet drako?”
“That’s not what it’s about at all, Dell.” Aero stomps off, looking all dark and broody, then flops down next to Drake at the shore over there.
Cryptic bastards.
Sap snuggles closer into me, curling her tail up and rooting around until she’s got a nice little Dell nook, before she burps and almost sets the fucking hammock alight—though Kal is quick to extinguish that shit—and goes to sleep.
She’s warm, cute, and her scales only scratch me a little, so I don’t mind snuggling her, but after a couple of hours of endless rumbling emanating from the sleeping pocket rocket, the last hour of which I’ve watched Sol stalk back and forth across the island like he’s about to combust, Drake emerges from his sulk and plucks Sap up in a big Dusk embrace. She yawns then flops her head into the crook of his neck and goes straight back to sleep.
Fuck it.
Why does he have to look so fucking good cradling the sleeping baby fifteen-year-old drako when I’m on my death bed? Not to mention my absent uterus. So unfair.
Drake dishes me a sweet half smile that tells me he doesn’t actually hate me for getting the first Sap cuddle after-all, and gently lays her down onto a pre-arranged, specifically crafted Sap nest, which is really just a hole in the ground he’s packed full of blankets and hot rocks from the fire, but still, it’s thoughtful as fuck.
Sol makes a beeline for me, on another soul-destroying mission from ground patrol. I ignore the bare feet, chiselled abs with a deep V leading to the linen pants hanging tantalisingly off his hips, making him look casual and tasty at the same time.
“Can I lay with you? I think we need to talk.”
Well, knock me down with a fucking feather, I never thought Sol would be the one to initiate this conversation. I’ve been trying to work my way up to it, but I just couldn’t quite get there. Plus, I was drako-sitting a pint-sized cutie.
“Sure, shuffle onto my death bed. There’s room for two.”
“Fucking hell, Del.” But he obliges, and I do my best to move over. “Just let me do the work,” and he does, lifting me then settling me back down onto his half naked body. Even my comatose vagina’s purring in her sleep as he rests those massive arms around my body, making me feel fucking miniature. But also, pretty damn cosy and safe, even though I’m dying.
“I’m sorry …” I say, keeping my eyes on the ocean. I can’t look him in the eye right now. “I’m sorry I used my wish to force your hand. I know I fucked up.”
He doesn’t say anything, probably because he’s just as uncomfortable in these types of situations as I am. I’m surprised we’re getting anywhere at all, that we haven’t tried to lop each other’s heads off just yet.
Another death joke, I’m on fire right now.
Aero hisses from over there somewhere, but I ignore him. He’s been stomping around for the past hour, battling against that dark side that keeps slipping in then out again.
“Truth is, I thought I went back to get my box. Turns out I actually went back to get my girls. If I had my chance over again there’s nothing I would change, though perhaps I would’ve tried to achieve it without grating you up the wrong way.”
It’s a shit apology, but it’s better than nothing. And it’s an honest one.
The silence sits between us for a very long time, long enough for me to think that he’s fallen asleep. Eventually I peek up at him and find him staring down at me like I’m some sort of fascinating conundrum.
“Have you been looking at me this entire time?”
He nods, saying nothing.
Finally, he clears his throat. “I’m sorry I invaded your privacy, and I’m sorry I called you a spy. I’ve had some time to think about it and I’ve realised the error of my ways; nobody could take the sort of shit you’ve been through and still work for the King.”
Classic Sol. A well thought out, blunt, no theatrics apology that gets straight to the fucking point, but then also misses the point altogether because he’s got a carrot stuck up his proverbial backside.
“Thanks. If I weren’t dying, I’d probably still be mad at you, but at the same time, if I weren’t dying, I doubt I would’ve apologised in the first place. So, we’re as bad as each other.”
I get a smile out of him for that
one, probably because he knows I’m bang on the clitoris. I’m going to miss these moments, when Sol shocks me with tender little quirks that remind me he’s not a total controlling, soul eating psychopath. It’s the small things.
I look out across the water. “You need to use your wish, Sol.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not taking anything from you.”
Fucking hell, what’s with these guys? I push myself up off his chest, even though my vagina’s mourning the loss of his earthy scent and the bulge of his pectorals beneath my head. I try to remind her she hasn’t got the energy to do anything about it anyway, overeager twat.
“Then what the fuck was this all for then? A waste of everyone’s time? Just fucking take it!” Yeah, so that got everyone’s attention. I can sense them watching, subtly shifting closer through the sand.
“I’m not doing this with you right now.” He gets up, plops me back into my swinging death bed, and storms off towards the water, leaving me hanging. Literally.
“Then when do you want to do it, Sol? Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re running out of time!” Ok, so I’ve gone into full blown bitch mode. The cuddle was nice while it lasted, but now we’re back to trying to stab each other’s eyes out. I want to feel like my life has been worth something, but that’s swiftly slipping through my fingers like the aftermath of a successful hand-job.
“Why do you think that is, Dell?” I turn my attention on Aero, who’s looking about ten shades deep into his dark alter ego and is prowling towards me like a panther sniffing out his prey. The sun has turned his perfect honey toned skin a deep shade of amber, and he’s dappled with a light sheen of sweat.
I shake my head at the bastard. “Do you need me to spell it out for you? I’m dying! What’s got your panties in a twist?”
He uses his wings that won’t seem to fucking disappear, to throw himself through the air, landing right in-front of me and making me tumble back into the hammock as he gets all up in my funk, breath tickling my face.
“Exactly! You should’ve told us you were dying! You fucking knew you were dying, and you purposely hid it from me, going to the extent to keep it from your fucking thoughts!”
