by Dee Garcia
Before me stands the wooden wheel, it’s handles encased in solid gold. Mesmerized and intrigued by its beauty, my hand reaches out to feel the alloyed metal, until I see it—this small, black box, topped with a satiny scarlet bow sitting in the very center of the wheel’s pedestal.
I feel Callan’s grin long before I see it. “For you,” he states, grabbing the box with a quick hand and snapping it open.
I’m gasping when its contents meet my sights. “It’s...beautiful.”
The very same symbol displayed on the sail rippling above us reflects back at me, only in a tinier, more glimmering version; encrusted in diamonds, rubies set in place of hollowed eyes.
“I hoped you’d think that. The rubies house your daylight spell.”
Finally.
Excitement swiftly whirls within me. I’ve missed the sun. “How does it work?”
“You just wear it.” He shrugs, gently pulling the pendant free, piquing my interest all the more at its short length.
“Is that even going to fit? It looks too tiny to be a necklace.”
Hook smiles softly, demanding I spin around with a twirl of his finger. “It’s a choker, lays right across your throat. You have to wear it at all times.”
“Like a collar?” I quiz, inhaling another sharp breath at the current that rips through me the second the skull touches my skin.
Humming, he secures it around my throat. “Reduces the chance someone will rip it off.”
“Also screams ‘I belong to Captain Callan Hook.’”
“Do you?” The question ghosts the shell of my ear as his hands glide down the slopes of my figure, pulling me back flush against his hard planes.
“I think you know the answer to that,” I breathe, shivering in his grip.
“I do, but I need to hear you say it, Tinksley.”
“Yes…”
“Yes, what?” His fingers dig into my pelvis for a split-second before I’m spun around.
Pushed up against the wheel.
The look in his eyes is so ardent, pleading almost, yet ever so patient.
“Yes,” I vow, hands fisting the front of his obsidian dress shirt. “I’m yours. I belong to you.”
♫ Dusk Till Dawn - ZAYN & Sia ♫
“I belong to you.”
Words I’ve been longing to hear for as long as my memory serves. Words I also didn’t think I’d ever hear after Tinksley finally learned the complete truth.
Palms flashing up to her face in a single breath, I crash our mouths together, pouring everything I possess into this kiss. There’s nothing remotely soft or delicate about it. I don’t want it to be. I want it to be this; crazed, filled to the brim with scorching flames of passion that constantly burn between us. Nipping at her lips, I draw blood in my sudden frenzy to solidify her avowal, her essence blasting over my tongue, intensifying the urgency rushing through me.
And she’s not far behind, wicked tongue licking into my mouth around a deliciously aroused moan, desperate for a taste of her own. “I want to taste you,” she mumbles, fists tightening around my shirt, pulling me closer.
“Whatever you want. Take whatever you want, baby girl.” I’m serious, too. She could drain me of my lifesource right now for all I fucking care.
It’s not like I don’t deserve it.
Evidently, my blood is not what she wants this time around, her hand snaking between us, palming my length through my slacks. “Take it out for me, Captain.”
Eyes snapping open, I find her awaiting, lascivious stare pinned on me, bottom lip trapped seductively between her teeth.
The tips of her fangs hugging the soft flesh.
My cock’s already throbbing in anticipation, mind reeling back to that damned fantasy. This doesn’t feel right, though. After what transpired this morning, I should be the one worshipping her.
“Not tonight, baby girl. Let me make you feel good.”
“This will make me feel good. I need you to know that I meant everything I’ve said. The past is the past, Callan, and that’s where I intend to leave it once I deliver to Peter what he deserves. I belong to you now, in every way possible. Nothing is going to change that.” She holds my stare without falter.
How can I deny her?
She knows everything and she’s still here.
The truth will set you free. Tigerlily’s words, they finally hit me then. She was right from the start. Coming clean, though the right thing to do, is always a risk. A gamble.
But it sets you free. Gives you a fresh start with no holds barred, no secrets lying beneath the surface.
“You want it?” I question, heart thrashing as a horde of emotions filter through me at once. “You take it out.”
Tinksley grins and drops her gaze, making quick work of undoing my belt. Popping the button, slowly pulling down the zipper.
“Do you trust me?” The question leaves me on a hiss as she wraps that intent little hand around my shaft and works me rigid.
Tugging. Pumping. Thumb caressing the very tip.
“With my life,” she vows, continuing on in her feat to bring me to my knees.
Catching her wrist in my grip, I clasp her chin and sample her lips one last time. “Kneel for me.”
Not an ounce of hesitation follows. She sinks to the worn, wooden floorboards of the deck, tongue teasingly grazing the tip as she does so. “You’re going to have to help me. I’ve never done this before.”
I’m struck stupid for a moment, mentally revisiting that fantasy yet again. It’s almost exact, down to the act in question, the setting. And if she’s anything like she was then, she doesn’t need me to tell her what to do.
“You don’t need my help, baby, trust me. You’re a sexual being by nature. Now reach up, grab the spindles.”
Again she does as I ask, reaching for one of the wheel’s handles on either side of her head as she peers up at me through thick lashes.
Just the sight of her like this is enticing enough. Knowing I’m the first, though?
Pure-fucking-elation.
I’m ready to go, fingers raking into her hair, stroking myself leisurely. I won’t lie, I wish she were bared for me, but there’s no time for that. Not right now. One day, I’ll take her on every surface of this ship and she’ll be gloriously naked, screaming my name for all of Rosewood to hear.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go of those, understood?”
Wordlessly, she agrees, following the movement of my hand. The second I’m close enough, she wets me with her tongue, wraps her lips around me.
Gaze snapping up to meet my stare as she takes me in.
Fuck.
She’s ruined me for good. Between that look and knowing what lies beneath that dress, what her pussy feels like, how she tastes.
I’m ruined. Gone.
Groaning as she takes me deeper.
My hips flex of their own accord, pulling back, easing in. “You look so beautiful on your knees, my immortal pixie”
Even more beautiful like this, with my cock in her mouth, taking every inch I have to give her. She hums at my words, rolling her tongue along the bottom as I pump in and out slowly. Instincts scream for me to move faster, to take what I want from that hot little mouth of hers, but I won’t. Not yet.
This right here works just fine for now.
Perfectly fine—my balls tightening, cock pulsing every time her tongue lavs that one spot.
“And you thought you needed my help.” A deep-seated laugh rumbles in my chest. “You’re too good, baby. Too damn good.”
Another hum, the sound amplifying the effects of her ministrations, sparking the beginning of my climax at the base of my spine.
“I’m not going to last,” I warn, tightening my grip on her hair. “I love this mouth, I do, but need to be inside you when I come.”
Tinksley swiftly withdraws at my admonition, gazing up at me expectantly with that fire in her eyes.
And to think I could have lost this.
The harrowing thought s
prings me into action. I yank her onto her feet and spin her around, her back to my front. My lips fall to her neck, hands scrunching the fabric of her dress up over her ass as my fangs draw out.
“You know I’m sorry, right? That’ll forever live to regret some of the choices I made?”
“Callan, don’t. It’s—”
“It’s not fine, baby. It’s just not. I’ll regret what I did until the day I finally take my last breath. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but—”
“Callan,” she interjects, peering at me over her shoulder. “Enough. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What I want is for you to fuck me, to take me right here, right now, out in the open. Show me all the things you want to say, show me I’m yours.”
She’s completely serious, too, tumbling all the words left unsaid down my throat. One second, two, three—our gazes never stray, abolishing whatever uncertainty I felt was lingering. She’s not going anywhere.
She’s mine.
All mine.
Hand gripping my cock, I push her forward against the wheel and thrust inside the only cunt I want enveloping me from this moment on.
“You’re everything, Tinksley,” I grit, fucking her hard, fast, relishing the sounds of her moans. How her body accepts me, molds to me, as if she was made for me. “You’re everything I want, all I need. I’ll never put you in harm's way again, I swear it. Never again.”
There’s so much more I want to say, but I bite it back. She’s overwhelmed enough as it is, still processing despite what she says, holding the beast back until the time is right.
So I’ll follow her lead.
I’ll wait until the time is right and spill it all, because the truth really does set you free.
And, at least, this truth doesn’t hold a mind numbing, life-altering secret.
It holds the promise of a future.
We rise before the sun.
Violet already packed our bags, leaving us nothing to do other than indulge in an early feed, say our goodbyes—in which the brood assures us they’ll meet us on the other side later in the day—and be on our way with a teary-eyed Tigerlily in tow.
She doesn’t say much as we tread down the cascade, only answering direct questions with a simple yes or no. I’m desquited at her obvious despondent demeanor, why she seems so torn over leaving the castle grounds, but don’t push for an answer. Could be as simple as, though she may be free, her freedom comes with a price, an obligation she’s expected to keep in order to ensure her brother’s liberty.
At the entry of the Woodlands, Tigerlily engulfs both Tinksley and I in a single hug. She weeps softly and wishes us well, forces our promise to come visit with her once we return. We agree, of course, and remain in place until she disappears through the thick brush.
From there, Tinksley and I continue on through the Incandescent Forest. Nothing about its expanse is any different, but Tinksley brushes her fingers along the trucks, her eyes dazzled as she cranes her dark head back to catch a glimpse of the tree tops.
Until we come upon her mother’s home, that is.
She stalls at my side, surveying it with the wariest of stares.
“It’s going to be fine,” I murmur, leading the way with her hand in mine, guiding us up the aged-oak steps.
Tinksley curls herself behind me as I lift my fist to the door and rap my knuckles against its weathered surface.
Knock! Knock!
Takes a moment or two before we hear, “One second,” shouted from somewhere in the home. Then scampering footsteps. And finally, the locks coming undone.
Beatrix stands on the other side of the threshold in a robe, her blonde tresses a wild mess. The poor woman was clearly still asleep.
Eyes ever so similar to her daughter’s widen, hand smoothing nervously through her hair. “Captain? What are you doing here? Is...is my Tinksley okay?”
“She’s fine, I can promise you that,” I avow, offering her a soft smile.
“Then what is this about? Did she ask for me? When can I see her?”
“You can see me now,” Tinksley replies, stepping out from behind me.
Her mother gasps, hand popping up to her mouth as she takes her first look at her now immortalized daughter. The last time she saw her, she was the incandescent little halfling she’d been all her life; all blonde hair, golden markings that disappeared, and elegant, regal wings.
So much has changed since then.
In death, darkness consumed and immortality took its hold. Hair darker than a raven, ebony markings that no longer disappear, and faint scars on her back where wings once protruded.
“Tinksley.” Beatrix pulls her in for a hug, matching tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m fine, mama. Callan’s taken really good care of me.”
“I’m so sorry I failed you.”
“You didn’t fail me.” Tinksley squeezes the woman tighter. “This was all me. I own it.”
“I should have known. You were so deep in despair I should have considered this a possibility. I’m so—”
“And it’s in the past now, where it belongs. I may look starkly different, but I promise you, with every fiber of my being, I’m fine.”
They pull away from one another, the fairy then holding her vampire-hybrid daughter at arm’s length. “The question is: are you happy?” She reaches up to finger the charm at her daughter’s throat.
“I am, but I’ll be happier once this is all over.”
“Once what is over?”
“We’re crossing the portal,” Tinksley states simply.
Beatrix regards her daughter in alarm. “Are you…Are you going to search for him?”
Tinksley answer with a sure nod, reaching back for my hand. “I’m not just going to search for him, Mama. I’m going to kill him.”
The fairy bounces her gaze anxiously between her daughter and myself as the color slowly drains from her face. “Tinksley…” she tries arguing, but my girl shakes her head firmly.
“It has to be done, Mama. It’s the only way I’ll truly find peace and be able to move forward without his ghost haunting me.”
“Killing him isn’t a—”
“A solution, I know. But it was part of the plan.”
Beatrix flinches. Regardless of all that’s happened and what’s shifted from what she knew to be the norm, it’s clear she wasn’t expecting her daughter to have even the slightest inkling of the plan. “You know about that?”
“I know everything.” Her mother’s eyes water anew, prompting Tinksley to swallow the woman in her arms. “Don’t cry, Ma. I’m not mad at you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she pulls away, “I’m not the only one who was lied to.”
Beatrix regards both her and I with a puzzled expression. I nod silently as my girl does the very same, reaching for her mother’s hands. “You deserve to know the truth.”
“The truth? About?”
“Ask Papa. Ask him to tell you the truth,” Tinksley urges her. “Tell him I know.”
Her mother nods, but that sense of confusion has only doubled. I have no doubt her mind must be racing. “When will you be back?” she questions softly.
“Soon.”
She sets out to give another tip of her head when her gaze cuts upward to where I stand. “She’s in good hands, Beatrix,” I promise her, setting my hands on her daughter’s shoulders.
“I know she is.” She smiles.
“She’s right, though. You deserve to know the truth and I’m only sorry I couldn’t tell you what I knew sooner.”
Not long after that, we exchange goodbyes and flash our way back north through each domain, including the town’s square. We don’t slow our steps until we reach the middle point between Sirens Cove and the Cascade, where the thicket of tall palms open up to a small clearing.
The one and only place where the portal can be accessed.
“Where is it?” Tinksley asks beside me, our footing crunching the fresh gr
ass beneath us.
“Right over there.” I motion to a massive oblong rock surrounded by vibrant green ferns. On it is a carved symbol—a star with an eye in the very center.
We stop before it and almost immediately Tinksley seems confused that nothing is happening. She glances up at me, curious brow arched high.
“Are we doing something wrong?”
“No.” I chuckle, retrieving something from my pocket. “We need this.”
A large coin sits nestled between my fingers. Tinksley observes it, her head tilting aside. “What is it?”
“British currency. It’s a two pound coin.”
“Is this what Peter really needed to access the portal?”
I nod. “If he’s gone back where I think he has, yes. The portal takes you anywhere your heart desires. However, to get there, one must possess something tangible from where they’re looking to cross.”
“So if the sacrifice was nothing more than a ploy, how’d he get there then?”
“Dark magic, I’m sure, or perhaps a loophole. Not important now, though.” Slipping the coin between our joined hands, I lace our fingers tighter to form a secure seal and return my sights to the ancient symbol. "Are you ready?"
Tinksley nods, gazing at the symbol herself.
“Here we go…” I suck in a deep breath. “Portai Immorenia.”
And then...we’re gone.
♫ Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift ♫
Location: London, United Kingdom
The stories I’d heard don’t do this world justice.
None of them.
Everything is so different from home; all the structures, the people, their fashion, even the food. There’s transportation of all varieties, technology most beings in Rosewood can’t even fathom.
I’m literally awed, unable to keep my sights on one thing for more than a few fleeting moments.
Callan, on the other hand, seems right at home here. Calm and cool, he acknowledges anyone who greets him, offering a “good day” or a simple tip of his head. Even at the inn—which was jaw droppingly beautiful—he checked us in without batting a single lash.
