Lunatic Fringe

by Allison Moon

  The moon sat above the tree line in the west when Lexie blinked back to reality. The first thing that came into focus was Archer, lying with head resting on crossed forepaws, her gaze focused on something far in the distance, deep in her own thoughts. Her tail curled next to her body, fluffy and clean. Her nose was wet, like a river rock against the silty beige of her muzzle. Lexie sighed, the beauty of this beast in the moonlight overtaking her. She tried to speak, and her voice box vibrated a trill of sound.

  “Archer?” Lexie croaked through a hoarse throat.

  Archer’s ears perked, and she jumped to all fours. The sides of her mouth curled into a smile, and her pink tongue unfurled from her jaw to loll to one side. Lexie walked to her, and they entwined their necks, nuzzling. Archer pulled her face away and licked at Lexie’s muzzle, cleaning the last traces of blood from her fur, grooming her.

  “There’s skin stuck between my teeth,” Lexie whined.

  Archer wrapped her forelegs around Lexie, squeezing away the snarling, the saliva, the jagged teeth and claws. Archer was a bulwark of warmth and safety; her body was a sanctuary for them both, regardless of the monsters beyond, soothing like a sister and holding like a lover. Archer’s strong neck draped over Lexie’s shoulder, warming her core, hiding her face from the chill of the forest. Her exhalations cycled in the enclosed space between their bodies, warming them both.

  Archer smiled with tender eyes. “Let’s get you some water and some rest.”

  She whispered into Archer’s chest, “I’m sorry.”

  Archer lapped at her shoulder, shushing the confession away. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I couldn’t let you kill a man.”

  “Shh . . .” Archer nuzzled her. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  “You’re a werewolf,” Lexie whispered.

  “Yes,” replied Archer.

  “And me too.”

  Archer nodded. Stating it so plainly should have shocked Lexie, but her nervous system had adapted by refusing to engage any further. An eerie peace crept across her skin, gripping her with ghostly fingers, forcing her heart rate to slow and her breath to deepen. It was a disconcerting calm, her thoughts sharp and empty.

  “Did you do this to me?” Lexie asked.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Who did?”

  “I don’t know. I can only guess.”

  “Guess, then.”

  “Last month, at the Full Moon Tribe. When you ran, you fell and drank from a puddle, yes?”

  Lexie nodded.

  “There is lore, that the footprint of a pureblood, beneath the light of the full moon can create the change, though I’ve never seen it happen.”

  “Until now?”

  “I suppose.”

  “What’s a pureblood?”

  “Me.”

  “And?”

  “Only me,” Archer sighed. “Or so I thought. But that footprint wasn’t mine.”

  “Pureblood. What does that even mean?”

  Each question was a hydra; for every one Archer answered, ten more sprang forth in its place.

  “It means a lot of things,” Archer said, drawing back and placing her paw over Lexie’s. “Listen, I know you have many questions, but you’re also hurt and tired. Let’s take care of that first, okay?” She nuzzled the soft, spiky fur at the base of Lexie’s triangle ears. “Things will look different in the morning.”

  Lexie nodded, still seeking answers in Archer’s particolored eyes, so unusual in a woman, but well-suited to a wolf. Everything about Archer seemed better suited as a wolf, from her dispatch of the rogue wolf to the way she had licked Lexie’s muzzle clean of blood, to the way she comforted by rubbing her forehead against Lexie’s trembling neck.

  Archer turned, looking over her shoulder in invitation--or command--for Lexie to follow. Lexie loped after her.

  The silent journey gave her opportunity to observe Archer, a great wolf who mere hours ago had loved her as a woman, who had cradled her body in her long, lean arms and tasted her flesh with human lips. Her eyes were the same as a both human and wolf: the left like candle-lit brass, warm and organic; and the right, clear blue as an icy lake, preternatural and uncanny. Archer’s mouth curled at the edges when she grinned her lupine grin, similar to the shrouded smile she carried on her human face.

  A ridge of mottled grey fur ran from the tip of her nose up her forehead, along her back, and all the way to her fluffy black tail. Her cheeks were beige, and small rings of short black fur circled her eyes, as though traced by kohl. Archer’s articulated paws were broad, almost twice the size of Lexie’s. They moved agilely, more like her human hands than not.

  Growing up, Lexie shared the local assumption that the rare wolves were a product of the environment. A chill of nauseous guilt gripped her throat as she wondered who those wolves, those people, may have been before the locals dispatched them with guns and blades. She wondered how Archer had survived and if long ago she had been a normal girl like Lexie. She was gripped with the same uneasy wonder that had accompanied the sensation of Archer’s body on top of hers, that everything was terrifying and everything was perfect.

  Lexie loped to a stop beside her lover. She studied Archer’s face, marveling at the subtle colorings and shades along her muzzle, wondering what they were for, if anything.

  Archer waited through Lexie’s perusal, letting her soak in the magic of what was occurring now. The fur on her throat rippled when she spoke.

  “Are you okay?” she chattered to Lexie in a language that sounded so natural Lexie wondered why she had never heard it before.

  Though she didn’t know the answer to Archer’s question, she suspected that she had no real choice but to decide. Lexie lowered her head to her forepaws, stretching the lean bands of muscle on her legs and across her back. “Yes,” she asserted, the decision making it true. “I think I am.”

  Archer bounded into the tree, and Lexie followed. They climbed together to the treehouse, so warm and welcoming, high above the cruelty of the forest below. Weariness overtook Lexie as the calm of the space enveloped them. She curled down upon the sheepskin, tucking her nose beneath her foreleg, hiding from the lingering moon rays. To Lexie’s lupine figure, the fleece was a sensual delight. A sound came from her mouth that she had not yet heard, a mixture of a guttural sigh and a satisfied snort through the nose. Seeing that Archer was watching her, Lexie rolled onto her back, exposing her pale belly. Archer padded over and nuzzled Lexie’s belly, snuffling along the soft fur and flesh.

  They pressed tightly against one another, wrapping legs, rubbing their faces together. Their panting deepened. Archer licked Lexie’s face and ears. Lexie lost herself in the sensation of Archer’s touch. She had to ask Archer one question, and placing her paw against Archer’s chest to stop her, she whispered, “Archer, what do I look like?” The sides of Archer’s mouth curled into a broader grin, and she rested on her forepaw, using her other to stroke the side of Lexie’s face.

  “Your fur is light brown, like honey. Your eyes are the same, rich hazel. Your mouth curls into a smile at the edges, here.” She traced the curls of Lexie’s mouth with the tip of her paw. “Your cheeks are pale, like mine. Your snout is the color of peanut butter.”

  “Peanut butter?” Lexie laughed.

  “Yes. You are beautiful. And delicious.” Archer buried her face in Lexie’s neck, making snorting sounds that tickled Lexie’s whiskers and made her giggle aloud.

  They rolled together on the blanket, wrestling, licking, playing and giggling.

  “Am I going to be okay?” Lexie asked.

  “You are going to be magnificent.”

  Lexie couldn’t make sense of any of it, nor could she think of the future; it was all too deep and unknowable, but she resisted escaping into her head. She’d lived there long enough.

  Instead, she stared into her lover’s eyes. She would trust Archer. She would love her. She seemed to have little choice. They locked gazes, learning to trust on
e another by looking as hard as they could. Then Archer leaned in and pressed her mouth against Lexie’s. Their moist noses touched, sharing breath.

  As the sky moved from violet to deep blue, Lexie drifted off into a deep and cozy sleep. She dreamt of running, mouth open wide, with Archer at her side. It felt like freedom. It felt like love.

  Chapter 14

  Lexie awoke naked, a beam of sunlight beating down on the side of her face. Her back was slick with sweat, as though she’d been wearing fur coat. She rolled onto her stomach and shook with surprise, startling Archer and sending her yipping to her paws. Lexie likewise jumped to her feet and teetered naked at the edge of the wooden platform, a hundred feet above the forest floor. Archer had leapt in the opposite direction, her tail fluffed out like a dust brush, the tree’s branches throwing her into shadow. They looked at one another a moment as Lexie regained her balance.

  Though Lexie had returned to her normal shape, there was no denying the previous night’s events; Archer’s still-fuzzy face confirmed as much. The daylight brought out the subtleties in Archer’s fur. She looked all wolf, save for the unsettling humanity in her black-rimmed eyes. It created a cognitive dissonance in Lexie. Like the memory of a dream that persists after waking, Archer stood before her as a disconcerting intrusion of the extraordinary into the mundane. She knew that Archer was this creature, but comparing their two bodies, now so at odds with one another, it seemed impossible. Yet, the Archer Lexie knew lived in those eyes. Lexie found her in the nuances of her irises, her pupils, the shape and color.

  Recognizing her lover in the beast made Lexie aware of her own nakedness. She wrapped her arms around her body in modesty, even as she felt silly for doing so. Lexie’s skin was unmarred from the previous night’s attack, as though in shedding her wolf hide, she likewise shed her injuries.

  Archer cocked her head like a dog trying to understand a command. She swung her head to the right, stretching from the tip of her tail to her ears. Leaning back on her haunches, she inhaled and retracted her muzzle into her face. Her claws followed suit, along with her tail, ears, and curved spine. In a fleeting moment, Archer returned to her human form, the transition itself occupying the dream-time territory of visions, tip-of-the-tongue moments, and not-quite-remembered dreams. Though Lexie was certain she saw the whole thing, it eluded recollection. If asked to testify as to what she saw, she would be unable to do so. It was as though the wolf was a glamour and the spell had worn off, the time between the two forms lost.

  Archer squatted naked on the lambskin, fingertips pressed to the platform before her as though she was preparing to leap. She wore her bare skin as comfortably as she had her wolf hide. Anticipation filled the air, Lexie’s naked body waking with a flush of tingles, pining all over again for Archer’s touch.

  Archer could have been reading Lexie’s mind; a knowing smirk crept across her lips. Lexie tensed, staring at Archer’s stunning body: her olive-brown skin, her smooth stomach with just a hint of definition, each muscle in her torso taut. Her limbs were long and lean, as if the only softness on her body was that which defined her sex. Lexie’s eyes traced the path from Archer’s clavicle, sunk deep in shadow, down the line between her breasts, to her navel and below. Short brown hairs delineated the path down the most vulnerable part of her belly. Lexie’s gaze followed these downy whiskers to where the hair amassed in a soft thicket. It wasn’t curly and tangled like Lexie’s, but straight and silky, laying cross-hatched like the fine fibers on the closed mouth of a Venus flytrap.

  Lexie’s desire for Archer dripped down her inner thigh, mingling with the sweat of a night pressed against a great furry beast. Her scent flooded the treehouse, signaling a singular need that would usurp all the yet unasked questions that still squirmed at the back of Lexie’s brain. Right now, though, she had other things on her mind.

  Lexie spread her arms, offering herself to Archer. The scattered sunlight cast brilliant blotches of light on her pale skin. Archer did not move a muscle, eyes traveling Lexie’s form as Lexie’s had over hers.

  They couldn’t have slept longer than four hours; the birds were still singing their early, hungry calls. Yet, Lexie felt renewed. She wanted nothing more than to tackle Archer, to pin her and wrap her legs around her waist.

  In a great leap like the one she executed up the cliffside the day before, Lexie traversed the distance to the center of the platform, landing smoothly on the fleece and wrapping herself around Archer. She pressed her soaking groin against Archer’s abdomen; the tensing of Archer’s muscles sent waves of desire through her body. Lexie crammed her mouth against Archer’s. Their tongues wrestled and tumbled. Archer sat up, and Lexie locked her ankles behind Archer’s back. She ground herself against Archer, releasing a satisfying moan. Archer kissed and sucked greedily all over her skin. Lexie caught her breath, and with it her scent: balsam and honey. Archer’s own scent filled the air like a cedar bonfire, all musk and smoke. Their pheromones tangoed through the treehouse, the chemistry of their bodies creating a new scent and taste of their combined sex.

  Archer’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she whimpered like a puppy. She leapt to her feet and carried Lexie, still wrapped around her, to the cedar trunk. The rough bark felt delicious against Lexie’s back. Lexie grabbed the branch above her head, leaning back into the trunk with her legs still locked around Archer. Archer worked her right hand into Lexie, open and eager, enveloping her four fingers and easing her hand in farther, past her knuckles, up to her thumb. Her hand retreated then reentered.

  “Ah!” Lexie screamed aloud, the shock and joy forcing the cry out in a ribbon of blissful sound. Archer pressed further, the moisture of Lexie’s body bathing her hand and wrist, easing her entrance. Her thumb slipped in up to her final knuckle. Lexie’s eyes squeezed shut, her mouth wide open, her toes curled against Archer’s back. Lexie’s muscles stretched and clenched, tugging at Archer’s hand, eager for whatever she could offer.

  Archer whispered, “Yes?” Lexie replied with a fervent nod, her chest heaving as she panted with each press of Archer’s hand. With a shared, low moan, Archer’s hand slipped completely into Lexie. Her fingertips grazed her cervix, which dropped in concert with the contractions of Lexie’s muscles. Lexie felt Archer tease her fingers, exploring her inner-landscape.

  Archer curled her fingers into a fist; Lexie moaned at the hard knot pressing against every nerve inside her. She dug her nails into Archer’s back, grasping at her flesh, her toes and fingers curling as she urged Archer on. Archer pulled and pushed, thrusting a cry out of Lexie’s throat with each pulse. Lexie’s grip shook the branch above her head as she rode Archer’s fist. She controlled the depth and rhythm, eagerly rocking her body onto Archer’s wrist. Archer rested her head on Lexie’s shoulder with a groan of her own. Archer’s body within Lexie’s felt like home or heaven or both. If Archer could push the rest of her body inside of her, Lexie would invite her to curl up and stay forever.

  Archer’s tears dampened the skin of Lexie’s shoulder. “Yes, Lexie, yes,” she whispered. Lexie’s animalistic wails and grunts echoed through the forest. Her muscles clenched in bands, squeezing Archer’s hand like a coiled snake. Breath drove out of Archer’s nostrils in bellows, cooling Lexie’s flushed and sweat-slicked skin. The bowstrings of her tendons strained within her neck and a vein emerged like the river below them.

  Lexie opened her mouth in a cry, soundless this time, as her muscles released around Archer’s hand. A space, a vacuum, surrounded Archer’s fist as Lexie’s muscles expanded. Lexie squealed a tiny high-pitched sigh that turned into a clattering, orgasmic scream as her muscles tensed again and flushed a great torrent of fluid about Archer’s hand, dripping down her wrist to her elbow. Lexie’s cervix, a slick button of flesh that seized with each stroke, pushed down against Archer’s hand as if trying to eject it completely. Her muscles contracted in a cascading rhythm like a sound wave, squeezing and releasing.

  Archer’s own body trembled and shook, and she moaned as
Lexie’s orgasm sparked her own. Lexie surrendered to the bliss of tension and release, the boundaries of her body dissolving, the space between herself and the world drawing thin. Lexie couldn’t tell the difference between her body and Archer’s. All was the same temperature, the same depth, the same size. Their feet were made of the same wood as the planks beneath them, the tree trunk supporting Lexie’s back was made of her own spine. Her hair was the cedar needles that grazed her head; her breath was the breeze that shuddered through it all. Her tongue was Archer’s lower lip, her sex was Archer’s hand.

  Time passed. The boundaries between objects and moments reformed in Lexie’s universe. Energy washed across Lexie’s skin, awakening her pores, beating with her heart, sighing with her lungs. The air flooded into her pores like water into tide pools, swirling, carrying all sorts of organisms and energies, creating microcosms within her body. She felt fragile and defenseless, open and exhilarated. Her eyes swelled with tears, a fear creeping along her skin of what might crawl into her body and create a dwelling amongst her veins.

  A tear rolled down her cheek, to Archer’s forehead, still nestled in the space between her shoulder and neck. Archer pulled her head away to see the tears staining Lexie’s face.

  More tears flowed following the trail blazed by the first. With her free hand, Archer wiped them from Lexie’s cheeks. “Take a deep breath and exhale.”

  Lexie obliged, inhaling to the bottoms of her lungs. On the exhale, Archer withdrew her hand. Lexie’s knees buckled and she slipped, caught in Archer’s arms. Archer pressed kisses to her temple.

  Now, it was Archer’s turn to cry. Her eyes burned as she said, “I’m sorry.” The apology came in a low growl of guilt.

  Lexie’s eyes fluttered open and she offered a tearstained, flushed-lipped smile.

  “Why?”