I take my glasses off my face and tuck them away so I can see her even clearer. Dressed in leather pants and a leather top roughly stitched to reveal her midriff, her shape is easily revealed, and it’s a shape I desperately want to trace with my hands, with my tongue, with my teeth.
As she leads us toward their camp, I watch her closely. When everyone takes a seat in a ring, I take a seat closest to her. She doesn’t seem to mind, and something draws me closer. I want her. I need her. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.
Our eyes meet and my body flashes. I nearly wince. Of course, my mind would fuck up when I’m trying to impress such a glorious woman. Of course, I can’t be normal for long.
“What in the—”
“Look once and you’ll see a hare, look twice and I’m no longer there, look thrice and I’m dead, but maybe it’s all inside your head,” I offer as an explanation, murmuring them like a purr.
“Are you enchanted?” She tilts her head, studying me, and I like it. I like it entirely too much. I want her to keep looking at me like that.
“Perhaps,” I reply. “Or perhaps, I’m not here at all.”
“But I can see you,” she points out, and then reaches out beautiful fingers to touch me.
Quicker than I should in the midst of so many predators, I shoot out and clamp her fingers with my hand, careful not to hurt her. I hold her hostage, tilting my head like an animal, the viciousness I inherited from my mother and father sliding beneath my skin, urging me to claim her, to convince her of my brutality. She doesn’t pull away, and I have no doubt she could if she wanted to. Instead, she leans a little closer.
“Touching is a crime, because you never know what you’ll find, Skinwalker,” I whisper.
She purses her lips. “Do you always speak in riddles and rhymes, Hare?”
I drag her closer, pressing her palm against my face and rubbing there. Soft, so soft and powerful. “An unfortunate side effect, I’m afraid. The claws inside me dig in deep enough to change my perceptions.”
“What claws?”
“You know, you know, what it is I do, Skinwalker,” I murmur, rubbing harder. “You have the claws, too.”
She slides closer. “Do you mean darkness?”
“Darkness. Claws. Madness. Power. All the same just with a different name.” We’re close, so close, and I want to roll in her scent, to hold her closer, to press against her and learn everything about her. I flash again but she doesn’t flinch away and my heart kicks in my chest. Love. I’m in love. “What do they call you, Skinwalker?”
“You heard them call me Tiger Lily.”
“Not your name, Pretty Lily. What do they call you?” My ears twitch back and forth, picking up too many noises around us. After so long spent in silence, the sounds are almost overwhelming, brutal, and I fight the urge to plug them. I want to hear her voice over and over again.
“Chieftess. Speaker for the Land.” She pauses, as if waiting for me to run. “Monster.”
I smile. “Monster. As if they know what monsters look like.”
“Do you?”
I fight the urge to lie. “Of course, I do.” My gaze flicks to where Jupiter watches our exchange, the only one seeming to recognize something more profound is happening. It doesn’t surprise me that the Dreamwalker and Hands of Justice recognizes it. “Monsters look like me.”
“You don’t look like a monster.”
“What does a monster look like, Pretty Lily?” I ask, returning my attention to her. “What makes a monster a monster?”
“I suppose I don’t know,” she admits hesitantly.
“You do, Pretty Lily,” I whisper, longing to brush my lips against hers. “And that’s okay. I’d rather you didn’t see me as a monster. It would make it rather difficult to convince you to kiss me if you’re worried about my teeth and claws.”
She blinks and leans away, but I hold her hand still and she doesn’t really want me to let go. I unnerve her to some extent. I unnerve everyone. But she isn’t flinching and she isn’t tugging harder. If she wants to break free, she will, and I’ll let her. I won’t take her like my parents had done. Any connection will be mutual between us.
I can see the moment she changes directions, not certain how to reply to my words. “Why exactly are you talking to me?” she asks, raising her brow. “I’ll eat you, rabbit.”
“Been there,” I say flippantly, absorbing her warmth. “Done that. And I’d love for you to eat me, Pretty Lily.”
The man beside her laughs so hard he nearly falls from his stool, but I only have eyes for Tiger Lily, watching as she fights back the smile that wants to spread across her lips. There are too many eyes on us now, I know, so when she tugs her hand back, I release her, but my eyes never leave the Chieftess whose soul calls to mine.
Destiny. So long ago, I knew someone, one day, would be waiting for me, would need me, and here she is, my very own Chieftess, fierce, powerful, understanding darkness just as I do. Prophesy sings in my soul and I desperately want to kiss her, but I won’t rush this.
I’m a monster. I have to take my time, let her see the monster I was bred to be, and if she still doesn’t flinch, if she accepts me, I’ll stand beside her for the rest of my days, no matter what.
She’s no prey. She’s everything. Everything. Everything.
Destiny is a bitch, but at least, for once, she’d been correct. Everything I’ve been through was worth it for this moment alone. Everything I’ve witnessed and fell beneath was worth it.
If only so she will keep looking at me like that.
I lean closer and grin at her. “Do you like tea, Pretty Lily?”
THE FESTIVAL OF DANU
A PIXIE HOLIDAY MEANT FOR CELEBRATION OF LIFE
Chapter One
TINK
I stare at the set up before me, the decorations both familiar and yet not. The urge to flutter my wings fills me even though they’re no longer on my back so I find myself shifting on my feet instead, unsure what to do. No one has done something like this for me before. No one had ever. . . cared.
“I talked to some of your coven,” Atlas murmurs. “Found out the details and what exactly it stands for. I know this isn’t home, but I wanted to do something that made it feel more like home. When you mentioned the Festival of Danu the other day, I went digging.”
And he did perfectly. The streamers and ribbons hanging from the trees, the candles, everything down to the beautiful drawings etched into the earth. Atlas had taken care of everything, and the rest of our group stands around, great smiles on their faces. The music comes from somewhere I can’t see, not quite pixie music but still beautiful and probably the best he could do. The point that keeps filling my mind is that Atlas cares enough to arrange something like this, to throw a festival for my benefit and for those of Neverland suddenly finding themselves displaced. None of us will complain—we’re alive, after all—but it’s nice.
I reach out and take Atlas’ hand, my heart throbbing in my chest. “You did wonderful,” I rasp, trying to choke down the emotion in my throat. I don’t deserve such care. I certainly don’t deserve the love shining in Atlas’ eyes, but I’m too selfish a pixie to ever let him go.
Atlas grins, the sight so normal and warming, I lean in for a kiss. “Now, when I spoke to the others, they said it was customary to provide an offering to your lover.”
My throat goes dry when Atlas releases me to jerk his shirt over his head, revealing the expansive planes of muscles he sports and the pixie designs painted over his skin. I freeze as he moves closer, all smooth movements and sensuality. “Does that mean you’re my offering?” I rasp, curling my fingers against his hips as he tugs me close.
“Of course.” Another grin. “Should I lay out on an altar, or would you prefer a chase?”
I want to say altar, because the thought of Atlas laid out before me like a sacrifice nearly makes me come undone. The festival emotions that always come with it begin to pulse in my core, and even though we’re no longer i
n Neverland, even though this new merging world is something none of us understand, I feel whole. We both need a release of adrenaline. We both need to run.
“Chase,” I growl, curling my fingers tighter against his hips at the thought. Which of us is faster? How long will it take me to capture the Berserker? I’m eager to find out.
Atlas grins and presses a steamy kiss against my lips, a prequel to what will happen when I capture him. The Festival of Danu is a celebration of life, yes, but it’s also a celebration of sensuality, of feeling alive with someone special. I’ve never celebrated with someone who actually holds my heart and an offering to your lover isn’t necessary, but it’s encouraged. Danu is shining down on us with her wonder. It only seems fitting we celebrate in her name.
“Food, dancing, chasing,” Flam says, tilting his head. “This almost sounds like our Heathen Festival.”
I turn to the Flamingo where he seems to hum with energy. It warms me to see them all prepared to join in the festival, all the pixies and fae already setting out food and drink and everything else that comes with the festival. Atlas had thought of everything, and if I’m being honest, we all need this. With the worlds doing whatever it is they’re doing, it’s easy to let panic take us, to let everything sink in and forget that we still need to live as well. Tomorrow, we can continue planning how to explore the other worlds now connected. Tomorrow, we can figure out how to handle the new creatures flooding across every world and causing trouble.
“The chasing isn’t necessary,” I correct. “If you have someone who is your offering, it’s customary that they offer themselves to the other, and there’s always a choice. A chase is encouraged because working for it is always sweeter, but sometimes, altars are used.”
“I do love a good chase, though,” Flam murmurs to Doe and she blushes. Whatever he whispers in her ear has her laughing. When he takes his shirt off, Flam is painted, another offering. I’d expected Doe to be painted. “Your turn to capture me,” Flam grins at Doe and something warm unfurls in my belly. There’s so much love around me, so many happy thoughts, that it feels strange to be able to stand among them.
Bloodlust doesn’t act the same way in Wonderland as it did in Neverland. I’m not sure if it’s a side effect of our world or if escaping the magic helped. I can still transform but I’m fully in control now when it happens. The moment Neverland died, we’d all felt more in control of ourselves.
“So, what do we do?” Cal asks, tilting her head. “We have sex?”
“The festival is a celebration of life and sensuality. You don’t have to have sex, but I think you’ll find, once one of you starts running, the urge to claim grows thicker.”
Jupiter bounces on the balls of her feet, her arms and throat decorated with the offering designs. “Do we choose altar or chase like you?” She’s far more excited than anyone else, and I understand it’s her curiosity that drives her. Jupiter doesn’t shy away from new experiences. She revels in them. It’s easy to see why the White Rabbit loves her.
“The offering can choose to either make them chase or lay themselves on an altar of some sort. Since we don’t have the original stones, an altar can be anything of your making, including a bed.”
Jupiter grins up at White. “I was considering altar, but a chase sounds nice. What do you say? Wanna chase me, bunny boy?”
White growls and grabs her. “You’re playing with fire, Dreamwalker.”
“I know,” she pauses and winks. “Bunny boy.”
Even Hatter and Clara join us for the festival. We’re all in pairs, and they’re prepared to celebrate a festival just to make us feel more at home. I blink. I never expected such acceptance, such care.
“We have lots of reasons to celebrate,” Atlas murmurs in my ear. “Why not follow through completely?”
“I don’t think you realize how much this means to me, Berserker,” I whisper, looking up into his eyes.
“I do.” He smiles gently and holds me close, his body warmth filling me. “Besides, I desperately want you to chase me.”
“We have a few rules first,” Clara interrupts and I turn to her with a frown.
“The Festival of Danu doesn’t have any rules.”
She grimaces. “Sorry, these are safety ones considering. . .” she gestures around us, and I understand. “Stay inside the protective barrier when running. I know it sucks to limit how far out you can run but we’ll have to get creative. Once outside the barrier, the risk jumps up for running into a creature you might not be able to handle. If you run into something, call through the link and we’ll come help.” I wait for anything else. “Oh! Keep in mind we have a child wandering around. Bear said he’d keep Aniya inside, but you know how she can be. Otherwise, have fun.”
Most of those from Neverland are joining in with us as well as some of those from Wonderland who’d liked the sound of the festival. I know, for me, this will be the most memorable Festival of Danu I’ve ever had. I just wish Swift was here to see it.
The music changes from light and airy to something deep and throbbing and I feel my nails lengthen in response. Careful not to prick Atlas, I smile up at him. It seems to have a similar effect on him, his skin flushing blue as he looks down on me, the beginning of our transformations.
“See if you can catch me, pixie,” he rasps, his voice thick and deeper than normal with the threatening change. And then he’s gone, disappearing into the trees.
The Festival of Danu has no trumpet sound. Each person can move along at their own pace. They can start a chase hours later or be the first in the trees. It’s all about consent and feeling comfortable in your own skin. While I will be chasing Atlas, the others could be waiting. I pay them no mind as I pace before the trees, rolling my shoulders, giving him a head start. He doesn’t really need it. Atlas is fast enough to catch me while in bloodlust, which means he’s most likely faster than I am, but we’re having to get creative with the limited space.
I pass Wendy and Tiger and share a look with them. Tiger isn’t painted, so I assume her Hare is. But Wendy is, and when I look toward Hook, I see the paint on him, too. Typical that neither could decide who would be the offering.
“Go catch your offering,” Wendy winks and grins.
It’s the only encouragement I need. Without looking back, I take off into the trees, running, following the trail Atlas isn’t trying to hide. My fangs lengthen in my mouth in anticipation, my claws fully out. My eyes are probably as black as night, but I don’t feel a loss of control. The feeling is strong, but I only have the taste of Atlas’ blood on my mind.
I run, following the trail, but then it just stops cold, as if he disappeared. I skid to a stop and turn in circles, trying to sense if there are other creatures with him, if he’s in trouble, or if this is part of the game. When I sense nothing else but my Berserker, I grin. Games. I like these kinds of games.
“Where, oh, where can my Berserker be?” I say, letting my voice echo. It’s rough with desire, anticipating capturing my offering.
I turn in a circle, letting my senses open, and then I trail my eyes up into the trees, searching there too. I don’t see him as I turn but I know he’s close. The bond between us tells me he’s near and the arousal coming from him in waves matches my own.
Dragging my claws along a tree that shivers in response, I move slowly, letting my senses open fully. “I didn’t know we were playing hide n’ seek,” I say. “We are not children anymore.”
I pause, heat slamming into my back so suddenly, it makes my back straighten. Slowly, I turn to see the heaving chest of Atlas, fully transformed. Skin blue with golden sigils etched there, a face more bestial that I’ve ever seen and eyes completely black, he’s glorious. The Danu designs on his skin pale in comparison to the natural golden designs there. I’m curious to see how far the sigils go.
“Do I look like a child?” he growls, his voice thick with the change. Both of us are wearing our monster skins, but it doesn’t make us monsters. I have to remind myself of
that fact every day, but it helps that Atlas reminds me, too. And I know he’s no monster, no matter the skin he wears.
I reach out a claw and trace it along his chest, making his muscles jump in response and a soft growl rattle his throat. I move it down, down, down, until I can trace the outline of his arousal through his pants. “No,” I rasp. “Not a child.”
He flashes sharp teeth at me. “I know I’m supposed to be the offering, pixie, but if you don’t touch me, I won’t be able to stand still much longer.”
“There are no rules for the Festival of Danu,” I reply, and it’s all the encouragement Atlas needs.
His clawed hands scoop me up without hesitation and I’m slammed back against the nearest tree, one of his hands clamping around my wrists and holding them well above my head, stretching me as he grinds his pelvis into mine, drawing a moan from my throat. His lips trace along my neck, sharp teeth dragging there, teasing. I tug at my wrists, but he holds fast, keeping me still for his claiming.
“If you don’t press inside me, I might eat you,” I threaten, working my hips against his.
He leans back just enough to meet my eyes. “You can eat me all you’d like, pixie,” he says, but he reaches between us with his opposite hand and shoves my skirt over my hips. When he finds me bare beneath, he growls savagely. “How wet you are thinking of me.” But he pauses. “Do you want me to change back?”
I understood his concern. Atlas’ monster is still new to him in this form, and he probably isn’t sure how I’ll feel, but he’s mine, no matter which skin he wears. He’s still Atlas, even if his skin is blue. Just as he never looks at me different with claws.
“No,” I gasp when he probs at my entrance, larger than he is in human form. “You don’t scare me, Berserker.”
Monstrous as a Croc (Daughters of Neverland Book 4) Page 11
