by Plum Pascal
“Now what?” Nash demands, stalking around the kitchen like, well... a caged bear.
“Now,” I conclude bitterly, “we wait.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Kassidy
The void is peaceful.
I am weightless, floating on the surface of a vast, dark sea. It’s difficult to tell where water ends and the sky begins. Both are endless black, without the twinkle of stars, suns, or the distant spheres to give light or orientation. Perhaps I’m on my back in the sea. Or perhaps I’m suspended in the sky, staring down at the water.
All I know is it’s incredible here. There’s a quiet in my soul I’ve never felt before. The world I’ve left is a violent place, full of garish colors and turbulent emotions. Not once has it ever cared for me. Not my father, who’d loved his bottles of spirits far more than he’d loved his daughter. None of the people I’d begged for food. No one pays attention until there’s coin in their hand or a pussy clenched around their cock. Sex is the only currency the powerful will accept from a woman.
None of the people cared a decade ago, when they’d turned their backs on the Guild and left us to flail helplessly at the coming of Morningstar.
No one cared. The world is a stinking dung heap, and I’m glad to be leaving it.
No... that’s not true, Kassidy! I yell at myself.
There were small handfuls of happiness in my life, purloined from the fickle pockets of fate and stashed away for when they’d be most useful. Training with my brothers and the spacious home we shared at the Order of Aves. Afternoons with Peter and the Lost Boys. My brief but memorable time with Neva. And, of course Sorren, Nash, and Leith.
Regret pierces the tranquil haze.
Oh, Gods, Sorren was dying. Have I restored him? Or is he about to paddle past me through the sea or sky on his way to... wherever shifters go when they die?
The spell is broken; my body no longer feels weightless. I sink to the bottom of the murky depths, choking on inky water that tastes like stagnation and death.
And when I wash up on shore an eternity later, there’s still no peace. In the dim light of morning, I can see a pall over Delorood. More of the damn mist that plagued Discordia’s fortress drapes over the castle like a gauzy shawl. Sunrise threatens to shrug it off, but for the moment it remains trapped in this twilight state.
I crawl on my belly, sand scraping my skin raw as I try not to be pulled once more into the sea. I make it three body lengths before I encounter an obstacle. A pair of dainty slippered feet appear in front of me. It takes more strength than I have left to crane my neck up to look at their owner.
She’s a little thing.
Smaller even than me, which I don’t think I’ve encountered before, aside from dwarves. She’s tiny, with the proportions of a doll. Startlingly white hair falls around her face in loose curls, looking more like wispy clouds have settled around her head than anything else. Her eyes are the palest blue I’ve ever seen, the blue-white of a perfect winter’s day before the snow falls. Slender arms, slender legs. She looks more fae than human, though she lacks the haunting echo their magic typically sends across my skin.
She looks harmless by anyone’s estimation. Or, she would be, if it weren’t for the crook and lantern she clutches in her right hand. The stone within casts a blue-green light over me.
This wisp of a girl is a Shepherdess.
“So, I’m dead?” I croak. “You’re here to take me?”
Funny, I thought the dead are allowed to live in a happy memory before they fade into their afterlife. If this is my farewell fantasy, I want a trade.
She laughs, and the bell-like sound tinkles over my skin pleasantly. “A shepherdess?” she repeats. “Goodness, no!”
“Then you aren’t here to take me to the afterlife?”
She laughs again. “No, Kassidy Aurelian, of course not. There’s still so much to do, silly.”
I grimace, both at the sugar-sweetness of her voice and the term of endearment.
“If I’m not dead, then what’s happening? Who are you? And where am I?”
She tilts her head a fraction. “Which do you want answered first?”
“The second,” I decide. Introductions are important.
“I’m Bowie,” she says with a smile, exposing perfect milk-white teeth. “Bowie Peep. And, to continue answering your questions in order, this is a twilight vision, Kassidy.”
“A what?” I demand.
She smiles. “A maybe. A future you will have, if you survive.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She laughs again. “Be flattered. Most souls don’t experience this much without crossing over completely.”
“I feel honored,” I reply dryly. “Truly.”
Bowie ignores my flippant tone and continues on as though I haven’t spoken, which is just as well because I’m being an asshole. “And you know where we are, Kassidy. You just don’t know when we are.”
“Is that supposed to make any sense to me?”
Another bell-laugh. “No. These episodes so rarely do.”
“Can you just tell me where the fuck we are, Bowie?”
She nods. “This is Delorood. It’s the setting for a final battle.”
“Whose?”
She gestures grandly at the city’s silhouette, gray against the color beginning to creep along the sky. It’s not pastel, like I expect. It’s a red-orange, steaked through with crimson, like a giant has wiped his bloody fingers through the air.
“Yours. Mine. Everyone’s.”
And that’s when I see the hulking shapes moving through the fog, approaching the city from the east. War elephants, giants, hellhounds, and hundreds of other creatures I have no name for.
“Morningstar’s army,” I say breathlessly. “He escapes his prison then?”
“Has escaped,” she corrects. “Or will very soon. Time is tricky in twilight visions.”
Has or had, it makes little difference to me. The fact is, Morningstar’s going to break free and start wreaking havoc on Fantasia again. And I can’t let that happen.
“How do I get out of here?” I demand. “I have to return. They need me.”
They. The world. The Guild. My brothers. But especially the three bear royals who risked their lives for me. Three bears who I love with all my heart.
“Simple,” Bowie says. “You have to swallow.”
“Swallow?” I repeat. That seems... deceptively simple.
“Swallow, Kassidy,” she repeats. “Do it now.”
I swallow obediently and find... that it hurts. A lot. It feels like my throat has been scalded, stung with smoke, like it desperately wants to remain closed. Still, I force myself to swallow again. And again.
And finally, after the third swallow, some of the pain eases. The burn becomes an ache. My throat stops trying to seal together, and I draw in a desperate inhale. It’s echoed by three others and then hands are touching me everywhere. Hands cradling my cheeks, hands sliding sweetly around mine, hands seizing my shoulders. The latter are the strongest, and they pull me upright.
When my eyelids flutter open, elation suffuses every cell of my body when I see Sorren’s chiseled and beloved face only inches from mine. He’s flushed with color and for the first time ever, there’s a true smile on his face.
And I’ve never seen him appear more beautiful.
Sorren’s alive! I did it!
He’s alive, and he’s whole, and he’s here and...
He’s kissing me. His lips crush mine, though not in the feral, possessive need to have me like the first time. His mouth has a new, staggering tenderness, the kiss so full of longing, want, and love that it brings tears to my eyes.
“Tell me you’ve come back to us, little dove,” he murmurs against my mouth when he pulls away.
“I’m here, with you,” I mutter dazedly.
“Kassidy,” Leith’s voice sounds from beside me. I glance up at him and the tears increase.
“What… what happened?” I
ask.
“You almost hopped the twig, that’s what happened,” Nash snaps, as though he’s absolutely incensed I had the gall to attempt to die on him.
“I’m... sorry?”
“Ignore him,” Leith advises. “He’s churlish when he’s scared. He’s happy to see you, as well.”
“Sod off, Leith,” Nash snarls.
Despite the pain still weighing on every limb, I sit up, noting as I do that I’m covered with gold and crimson ichor from the waist down. I look like I’ve gone wading into battle with a herd of small gold prospectors.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Leith’s blood,” Nash says, once he’s heaved in several frustrated breaths. “He made the Ambrosia that healed you, and damn near bled himself to death to do it.”
“It was worth it,” Leith says.
“Making it took years off his life,” Sorren adds with a small smile as he runs his fingers down the side of my face.
“Years?” I repeat as I look at Leith with wide eyes. “Of your life?”
“Fuck, don’t your lot have any idea how Abrosia is made?” Nash demands, surprisingly angry considering everyone else is relieved. But, that’s Nash. “I thought you’d try to learn at least that much before stealing the bloody stuff from us.”
My stomach does a tumble. In truth, none of us really cared what it was made of, just that it could help our own kind. We never paid much attention to what position it would thrust the bear shifters into if we took it, nor why they guarded it so fiercely. It just seemed like selfishness from the outside. But with this new, intimate knowledge, it takes on a horrifying sort of clarity. We’ve been trying to steal their lives! In a literal and metaphorical sense. No wonder they’ve been so hostile.
“How many years?” I ask Leith.
His gaze shutters and his face goes completely blank. “Not important.”
“Morningstar’s sweaty balls, it isn’t! How many?” I demand.
“Twenty-five,” Sorren fills in. “Perhaps thirty.”
I’m halfway through sliding off the counter when Sorren answers. My knees wobble and then give out from beneath me. Leith has to scoop me up before I hit the ground.
“Thirty?” I repeat in a choked whisper. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe again. “I stole thirty years from you?”
“You didn’t steal anything, it was given freely,” Leith argues. “You saved Sorren from certain death. And now you’re going to save Fantasia.”
“You can’t know that,” I argue.
His eyes shine with consummate confidence. “I do. Because you aren’t going to do it alone.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
It’s Nash who answers. “We’re with you. Our kingdom is with you.”
I turn to face Leith, the tears bursting from my eyes as I wonder how this can be true? “You’ve really changed your mind?”
He nods. “However much aid the Guild needs, we’ll give it.”
I choke again. Damn him. The salt in the tears hurts my face. I start to shake my head as I realize what they’re offering me. Their lives essentially. “I can’t accept... it’s too much. You can’t do this for me. I can’t repay this debt.”
“Then how about making it a gift?” Sorren asks, hands going around my waist. Nash’s heat presses against my back, nose skimming my throat.
“What... ah... kind of gift?” I ask.
Sorren slides a hand into mine. “Tie this hand to our kingdom.”
I look at Leith. “I don’t understand.”
He smiles down at me as the three of them stand before me, making me feel so small in front of them, but so protected.
“Be our little barbarian queen,” Leith says.
“Lead our banners into your army,” Nash adds.
“We’re yours, if you want us,” Sorren finishes.
I’m quiet as I let the words sink in. They want me. Not just now, but forever. That’s what they’re asking.
What can I say, except, “Yes.”
TWENTY-SIX
Kassidy
The men wanted the handfasting to take place in the kingdom, but there simply hadn’t been time. After Discordia’s defeat, the people of Grimm sent her as far away as they could, to serve a life sentence in Ascor.
The twilight vision had confirmed one thing we already suspected: The seals keeping Morningstar imprisoned were beginning to suffer catastrophic breakdown. It was no longer just spirits and the occasional hellhound escaping anymore. Monstrous things were gushing out, and there was no stopgap we could put in place to delay the inevitable any longer. We had to begin preparing for war.
And to that end, Leith, Nash, and Sorren were accompanying me to Delorood. Prince Andric would be our human general to rally all the other kingdoms together, if we could somehow manage to do so in time. We were hoping the show of trust from the leaders from one of the most secretive kingdoms in all of Fantasia, the werebear kingdom, would do some good.
So, instead of marrying before a crowd of their adoring subjects, we were instead poised at the stern of the ship, huddled before the captain, even as the Jolly Roger tried its damndest to pitch us sideways into the sea.
“Aye, ye make a right beautiful bride, Kassidy,” Captain Hook says as he eyes me lecherously.
Hook is a very handsome man. A flirt, too, which is why all three of my men glare murder at our officiant even as he prompts us through our vows and drapes the cords over our hands. I can see why women like him. He’s tall, well-muscled from a hard life at sea, and his skin has been tanned almost brown from constant sun exposure. He has a swarthy beard, smoldering dark eyes, and a smile that would charm the undergarments off a wench at ten paces.
That and he’s as Scottish as his thick brogue would suggest.
Aside from the times I must look at him to repeat my vows, I barely take note of him. Because there’s just too much in front of me to ever consider wanting more. My men stand straight, tall, and proud. Leith holds me in his arms because I’m still a little too weak to stand on my own for long periods of time. Coming back from Discordia’s darkness definitely did a number on me, but I’m getting stronger with each passing day. It will probably be another week or so until I’m fully healed and restored to myself.
Each of my bears has a hand on mine. The tips of Leith’s fingers brushing my own, Nash’s trace burning patterns on the back of my hand, and Sorren’s fingers lock around my wrist. He smirks when he feels my heart skip every time I look at their beautiful faces.
“I promise to trust you and be honest with you. I promise to listen to you, to respect you, and to support you,” I say between my tears. “I… I…”
“Kass?” Sorren asks as I hold up a finger to let him know I’m trying to get control of myself.
Kassidy Aurelian, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’re crying like a girl!
Maybe because I am a girl, you cock!
You can’t call me a cock because I’m you, stupid.
Okay, then just shut up and let me try to make my way through these vows, will you?
“I promise to cherish every day we have together. I promise to do all this through whatever life brings us—through good times and bad, until death do we part,” I repeat my final vow. Hook finishes the rest.
“As this knot is tied, so are yer lives now bound. Woven into this cord, imbued into it with magic an’ blood, are yer hopes for a life an’ future together.”
In reality, it’s bespelled rope from the stock down below, but we can’t afford to be choosy. It’s about the sentiment. If we want to do this again later, we can—assuming we survive. For now, I want to be tied to these men. I want to be their bride any way possible.
“As ye tie this knot, ye bind yer dreams, love, wishes, an’ happiness together, for long as yer love lasts.”
Forever.
I know I have less of that stretch of time than they do. I’m human, which means I’m finite. I’ve had a brush with death already, so I know how fragile life is. But fo
r my portion of forever, I want them by my side.
“By this cord, ye are bound together. You may kiss the...” Hook glances between us and then gives a laugh. “Well, someone kiss her.”
And then their hands are on me, moving in concert like they’ve been planning this all evening. Leith takes my mouth while Nash and Sorren’s lips fall to either side of my neck, and I squirm beneath the ticklish onslaught.
I don’t even struggle as they pull me below deck and into our quarters. Because, finally, I’m exactly where I long to be—in the arms of the three men I love, the three men I adore with all my heart.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Nash
Kassidy’s back lifts off the bed in a perfect arch, her pert tits bouncing with the force of her orgasm. I touch my aching shaft a little desperately. It’s fucking torture to watch Leith between her legs, bringing her to completion not once but three times before he’s satisfied she’s ready for more. She’s slick everywhere, beyond ready.
Selfish bastards that they are, Leith and Sorren have already claimed their turn with her pussy and ass. I feel like a fucking deviant in the corner, stroking myself as I watch them together.
Then, her eyes crack open and she looks at me. Really looks, and a lazy, fuck-me smile spreads across her face.
“Come here,” she croons. It’s just as sweet as a fucking siren call, and I go to her without question.
“There’s another place for you,” she says in a throaty whisper that already has my balls tightening. Fuck. How was she a virgin when we met? She’s got more raw sex appeal than a succubus.
She taps her kiss-swollen lips with a wink and I about cum then and there. She reaches out for me, squeezes the base of my cock and then draws me nearer by the root of me, sliding my head inside her mouth. My eyes shut and my head lolls back. Ah, fuck yes.
Her lips wrap around me, tongue swirling around my tip like I’m a succulent bit of candy. I can’t help but thrust shallowly into her mouth. I don’t want to gag her, but she’s making it damn hard to think. She runs her tongue along the underside of my shaft, down to the root and back up again, playing me like I’m a damn flute. My hands fist into her hair, drawing her nearer to me. I thrust hard and deep into her mouth and she lets me, rocking back to escape the gag that’s sure to result.
