by Ivy Asher
“Could help you with that rutting problem you say you’re having,” Moro announces playfully, and I shoot him a glare.
“Fine,” I grumble and then yelp as Tysa starts pulling me toward the house.
“I have an iron I’ve been dying to try out on your hair,” she announces, and I look back at her mate, my eyes begging for help. Moro hold his hands up in surrender and chuckles, his loving eyes alight with happiness for his mate and her excitement.
“Tysa, I can’t wear this!” I insist as I take in the deep teal, satin-like fabric that barely covers any part of my body.
“Why? You look gorgeous!” she argues, confused by my incredulity.
“I’m practically naked,” I point out, and she just rolls her eyes.
“It will be hot tonight. There will be fires and dancing. You will thank me later. Other women will be wearing similar styles; just look at my dress.”
I look over to where she has her clothes laid out on a chair. She has a long silver skirt and a band of fabric that looks like it’s the top. I release a sigh and then return my stare to the mirror Tysa just parked me in front of. The dress has spaghetti straps that hold up the triangles of teal fabric that cover my boobs but display a lot of cleavage. There’s about four inches of smooth satiny fabric that fits tight to my waist, and from there, it’s basically a long panel of fabric covering my crotch and another long panel of fabric covering my ass.
Aside from my hard nipples being very obvious, if I don’t move, the dress doesn’t look that risqué. The issue is, as soon as I do move, the high slits that go up to the bottom of my ribs on both of my sides are very obvious, and if the wind decides to get frisky, it won’t take much to be flashing pussy and ass to everyone.
“I just don’t want the whole awkward overdressed thing that happened when the alarms went off to happen again,” I tell Tysa, and she gives my arm a squeeze before combing through my now straight white hair.
“Trust me, tonight, all the women get dressed up and celebrate, you’ll see. And I will say, if ever there was a dress that would solve a rutting problem, this would be the dress.”
I laugh and take one last look in the mirror. The color is gorgeous, and as worried as I am about standing out in a bad way, I do feel sexy as fuck. I brush my thick white hair back over my shoulder, and it almost hits my lower back. I take a deep fortifying breath, turn away from the mirror, and give Tysa a nod.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I concede.
Tysa squees and then proceeds to get dressed in her two piece flowy silver number. She takes the band of fabric and wraps it around the back of her neck, crosses it at her chest to cover her boobs, and ties it off behind her back. Her skirt only has one slit up the side, but I instantly feel better seeing that she’s showing a lot of skin too.
Moro takes in his mate as we step out of the room. His gaze grows heated, and I get the distinct impression that if I weren’t here, he’d move that slit in her dress over and fuck the shit out of his mate. Tysa blushes from his approving gaze, and I once again rub at my chest in an effort to banish the ache.
“Shall we?” Moro asks and extends his arm out to Tysa. She takes it, and he leans down and whispers something in her ear that has Tysa giggling and nuzzling into his side.
I follow them out the door, and goose bumps rise up all over my body from the cool breeze that brushes past me. I put my hands down to make sure my crotch and ass flap of fabric don’t go crazy and start flashing my bits. We join a group of other people who are all making their way out into the forest for the celebration. Their jovial conversation washes over me, and I stare up at the stars that are just starting to wake up in the sky and twinkle their hello. Gentle wind plays with the leaves in the trees, and shadows stretch out in our path like they’re trying to join us for the party too.
Our group crests a hill, and I see three large bonfires that are spread throughout the clearing. There are long tables spilling over with food, and casks filled with different drinks speckled all around. Some people are already dancing. They’re gathered in a group between the large pyres, weaving in and out of each other as they play tag with their smiles and laughter. There’s a lightness to everyone that I haven’t experienced yet while living among them, and it feels contagious.
Moro leads Tysa to the food, and I follow in true awkward third wheel fashion. I pile up a plate and stuff my face while I watch the flames try to keep time with the music and the dancers.
“Falon?”
I look up at the sound of my name to find Sutton staring at me wide-eyed.
“I thought that was you,” he admits as he closes the distance.
I try to swallow down the massive bite of meat and flatbread that I just shoved in my mouth and give him a smile.
“You look...stunning,” Sutton tells me, his mouth wrapping around the word stunning in a very appealing way. He takes me in, and I like the way his eyes dip and caress over my curves and exposed skin.
“You clean up well,” I respond in turn, and I smile even wider at the blush that sneaks into his cheeks.
I’m used to seeing him in armor, sweaty and dirty from training, with his hair pulled back. But tonight, his golden-streaked brown hair falls in waves around his shoulders. He’s tan and clean and looks good enough to eat.
“Who do I have to thank for this dress?” Sutton teases, and I laugh.
“Tysa.” At the sound of her name, Tysa looks over, and Sutton gestures to me and then gives her a deep bow. Tysa laughs and then wags her eyebrows at me before Sutton straightens up and catches it. I give Tysa a wink, and she grabs Moro’s arm and drags him out to join the dancers.
“How’s it coming along with Ami?” Sutton asks as he moves to stand next to me, his big well-muscled arm brushing against me.
“Good. We’re making progress,” I offer vaguely and watch as Moro twirls a giggling Tysa around.
“Do you feel like you and your gryphon are connecting, becoming one?”
I shrug noncommittally, not sure what to say. I have been making progress with Ami. As soon as he replaced all the items that were destroyed with his little cliff stunt, I put everything behind me, and we got to work on shifting. Pigeon and I are finding a good balance, but I don’t think we’ll ever be the kind of one that Sutton is with his gryphon. Ami was right in saying that Pigeon and I might always feel like two separate entities sharing the same body. I, of course, don’t tell Sutton any of this, because I don’t want him to look at me the way the others do as they spit highborn or blood tainted at me whenever it suits them.
Sutton doesn’t press for details, and we fall into a companionable silence as we watch the dancers bouncing and laughing.
“Would you like to dance?” Sutton asks me, and my eyes snap up to his.
“Um...I don’t know how. I mean, I know how to dance, but I don’t know the moves to the dances you do,” I correct.
“I’d be happy to teach you,” Sutton offers, and I don’t miss the way his tone lowers, a hint of suggestion in it.
“I don’t think this dress could handle one of the twirly dances without flashing lips and crack to everyone, but maybe the next little bouncy one would be safe,” I hedge, and Sutton’s smile becomes beaming.
“A drink then? To fortify our courage for the next bouncy one,” he offers, and with my nod, he quickly tromps off into the direction of the closest cask.
I smile as I watch him weave through people, and make a mental note to high five Tysa tomorrow after I’ve spent all night scratching all of my itches with Sutton. I feel eyes on me, and I slowly scan the faces around me, looking for whoever is setting my senses off. I land on an intense honey-filled gaze, and I’m not sure how I feel about Zeph staring at me so intently. I haven’t seen him for weeks, and I hate that something wakes up inside of me as I return his stare, refusing to be the one to look away first.
A creamy delicate hand reaches up to caress Zeph’s cheek, and it’s then that I notice the woman sitting in his lap. Her dress
looks like the first dress Tysa made for me, and I don’t miss that Zeph’s hand is tucked into the front drape of fabric. She rubs the scruff on his square jaw and whispers something into his ear. I feel furious and betrayed and find myself rubbing at the ache in my chest. Pigeon wants to fly over there and shred this bitch into a million pieces, but I hold her back. She needs to see the truth once and for all so she can let this fucked up crush go.
Zeph breaks eye contact when the girl in his lap pulls his lips down to hers, and I look away, not sure if I want to rage, run, or fuck that image out of my head. Sutton returns right then and hands me a large stein full of something. I take it from him and immediately start chugging it down.
“Mmm, what is this?” I ask as I take a break from swallowing down half the stein’s contents.
Sutton laughs and then reaches up and wipes away a foam mustache from my top lip with his thumb. He pops his thumb in his mouth, and it’s hot as fuck. “It’s meade,” he tells me and then takes a deep pull of his own mug, his sage green eyes alight with heat.
“Fuck it, let’s dance,” I order as I slam back the rest of my meade and drop the empty cup on the closest table. Sutton does the same, laughing as I grab his hand and pull him out amidst the other dancers.
“I thought the twirly ones were bad,” he tells me on a laugh, stepping closer to me so I can hear him over the music and other couples.
I lean into him, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling his ear close to my lips. “Well, you look like the big, strong, protective type. Think you can protect my virtue while we’re out on this dance floor?” I tease. I pull back, and Sutton’s pupils dilate as his eyes lock on to my lips.
“Now, show me your moves, big guy!”
17
I fan my face as Sutton takes my hand and drags me off the dance floor. I’m flushed from laughter and movement, and smiling from ear to ear.
“I’ll grab us a drink,” he shouts over the noise, and I nod and point to where I’ll wait for him.
I weave my way over to our meeting point and release a relieved breath as the cloying heat of the fires dissipates, and I’m greeted by cooler air on the outskirts of the partying crowd. I spot the top of the cliff castle between the trees, and I give it my back as I turn and scan the crowd for Sutton. I spot him, two steins in hand, and wave him over.
“You’re an excellent dancer,” I offer as I accept the stein he hands my way and take a huge gulp. The sweet cold drink tastes amazing, and I moan at the flavor that explodes all over my tongue.
“Me? I was just trying to keep up with you. I thought you said you didn’t know these dances,” he tells me as he gulps his whole mug down in three seconds.
“I don’t, but they weren’t hard to pick up at all. They remind me of this dance I once saw in A Knight’s Tale.
“Who has a tail?” Sutton asks confused.
I laugh and wave the question away. “There were a lot more steps, but it reminds me of a more lyrical version of line dancing, which is a dance that people do where I come from. Although, I think the way my people dance most of the time would probably traumatize the entire Eyrie,” I admit, and I chuckle at the thought of the look on everyone’s face if I went out on the dance floor and twerked.
“How so?” Sutton asks, his eyes lit up with amusement.
The moon’s light plays with the golden highlights in his long hair, and I find myself momentarily distracted. “What?”
“Why would the Eyrie be traumatized by the way your people dance?” he clarifies.
“Oh right. Because typically, if you were to go to a club or something, you’d find a lot of people grinding on each other.” Suttons confused look makes me smile. “That’s a dance where the couple writhes and rubs up on each other like they’re having sex, but they’re not actually having sex,” I explain, and I track Sutton’s tongue as it darts out and wets his lips.
“Even our slow dances are way more intimate,” I tell him as I take his drink out of his hands.
I set both of our mugs on the ground and then step into Sutton. I grab his large hands and place them on my hips, and then I reach up and wrap my hands around his neck. I have to stand on my tiptoes, and Sutton bends down a little to make it easier for me, which makes me laugh.
“Fuck, you’re tall,” I observe as I pull his body flush with mine. I feel his breath hitch, and I like knowing I have this effect on him.
“You’re beautiful,” he answers back, and he groans a little when I play with the hair on the back of his head. “So once you get in position, then what?” he asks, tightening his hold on my hips.
Heat fills me, and I run my gaze from his eyes to his lips. “Then you just sway,” I explain, showing him how to move his weight from one foot to the other. “You spin in a little circle, swaying like this, and just feel each other.”
“I think I like the way your people dance much better than the way mine do,” he admits, and I laugh.
Sutton leans down to close the distance between our lips. I smile in encouragement and close my eyes.
Finally!
His full pout barely skims mine before he pulls away suddenly. I open my eyes, a sound of protest sitting on my tongue, but I blanch when I see Zeph shoving Sutton away from me.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Sutton looks confused by Zeph’s actions. He’s pushing back as if to defend himself from his leader but not escalating things beyond that.
Zeph bellows, “Mine,” in Sutton’s face, and his sage gaze widens with surprise.
“I didn’t know, Syta, I would never…” Sutton defends, and then he throws up his hands in surrender. He shoots me a disappointed look and then turns and walks away.
What the fuck?
“Sutton!” I shout out and try to go after him, but Zeph steps in my way.
Pigeon wakes up inside of me, and my vision changes as I get ready to shift and let her deal with this asshole.
Zeph grabs my neck and leans down into my face. “Mine, little sparrow!” he growls at me, and I’m completely floored when I feel Pigeon practically melt into a puddle of mush inside of me.
“Pigeon, what in the actual fuck are you doing?” I demand, but she’s already backed off, and I know I’m not going to get any help from her in dealing with this prick.
“Sutton!” I shout out again, but he just walks away, shoulders slumped, leaving me to deal with Zeph all on my own.
My chest aches with the rejection, and I turn my furious gaze on Zeph. “That is the second motherfucking time you’ve been a raging, cock block, douchebag! What the hell is your problem?” I yell at him, shoving at his chest, more pissed than I have ever felt in my life. I want to kill him.
“You will not look at, let alone entertain, another gryphon again!” he shouts at me, and I see fucking red.
“You will not fucking tell me what I can and can’t do, let alone who I can and can’t do. I am a grown ass woman who likes sex, and I’ll fuck whoever I want! And there isn’t shit you can say or do about it!” I scream back.
Zeph says nothing, just picks me up and slams me over his shoulder and stomps back toward the castle.
“What the fuck are you doing? Put me down!” I demand, but of course he fucking doesn’t.
“Pigeon!” I scream internally. “You better wake the fuck up, you lazy turkey, because I am not dealing with this shit on my own!”
“If I have to lock you up, little sparrow, I will, but you will obey me,” Zeph snarls, pulling me from my internal battle with my useless gryphon as he carries me inside the cliff castle and starts up the stairs to get to my room.
“Pigeon!” I try again. Nothing.
“You don’t fucking own me. Your orders don’t mean shit to me. Who the fuck are you to tell me anything?” I demand.
Zeph slams open the door to my room and pulls me off of his shoulder. As soon as I’m on my feet, I immediately move to get into his face.
“I am the leader of these people, and what I say
is final!” he bellows at me, his yell sending strands of my hair flying back away from my face.
“You are nothing to me, and what you say doesn’t mean shit!” I snap back.
Zeph charges, and I reach back a closed fist, ready to pummel him as much as I can. He grabs my face and slams his lips to mine. I’m momentarily shocked by what the hell he’s doing, but my synapses start firing off again, and I punch him in the side of his head. My hit doesn’t even faze him, and he mistakes my mouth opening in shock as an invitation for him to deepen his unwanted kiss. I punch him again and bite his tongue.
He hisses and pulls back. I swing for him again, but he catches my fist and tries to lean down to apply another kiss to my outraged lips.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I shout at him as I struggle to do something that will hurt him and expel my rage.
“You are mine to command, mine to do what I please with, even your animal recognizes the truth of this!” Zeph growls at me.
I pounce on him, kicking, scratching, and biting. I want to draw blood; I want to shred him like Pigeon shredded those hunters in the woods. I need him to hurt. I need him to suffer the way he’s made me suffer.
Wait. What?
I pause, confused, as the intense thoughts flit through my mind mid-attack. Zeph pulls me off of him and crushes his full lips against mine again.
“Don’t fight, little sparrow, you know you’re mine. I’m tired of fighting it, and I know you must be too,” Zeph speaks against my mouth. “Feel the truth, little sparrow, you know you can feel the pull, the connection.”
He kisses me harder, and his taste confuses me even more. I have so many emotions swirling inside of me right now, and I have no idea what to make of any of it. I moan involuntarily as Zeph strokes my tongue with his and then sucks on my bottom lip. His kiss is bruising, and I hate that I fucking love it. I thread my hands into his long curly black hair and pull it. He growls in response and works harder to own my mouth.
