Guess I'm just realizing how little love I actually got in my life, and how much I've wanted it.
Maybe... maybe that was what drove me into seeking gratification with men. I disguised it as making money, but it was still a way to hear the empty comments of how gorgeous I looked – even if they didn't mean it.
It's probably why I'm not so furious at my current arrangements. Because I get treated with a certain reverence and tenderness, absent in my normal life.
“That bastard,” Feltan hisses, his gray eyes crackling in fury. Thankfully, he's not making a big deal out of the fact I contacted without his permission. “Man, if I was in his shoes, I would have put out a search for you by now. But to do that to his own daughter? That's fucking cruel.”
I nod weakly, unwilling to talk. I have the dominating urge to just crawl into bed and blot out the world around me. I think Arula can sense the desire, because his huge muscles tighten around me, making it harder to escape.
“My mother and father have about four other brothers to contend with,” Arula says. “So I don't get a lot of attention in our estate. None of us get a lot of affection, really. We just grow up in a state of being able to have mostly what we want – except when it comes to family love. We only get that from each other.”
“Same,” Feltan says, hesitantly reaching out his hand to touch me on the shoulder, as if nervous I'm going to react harshly and pull away. “My parents are very into one another, and a little less on their children. But they'd never do something like your dad. Mostly because they don't care. Unless I spent the entire treasury in a week or something.”
I appreciate he's trying in his own way to cheer me up, though his execution leaves much to be desired. Still, the one theme in common with the way they both approach me, is that they don't want to see me sad. That's enough, in a way, to help dry my tears up faster, but not enough to stave off the feeling that I've lost the foundations of where my life was built upon. It hurts my soul. It scours out my eyes. My stomach is twisting up into knots, and a hollowness infects my skin.
“If you want,” Feltan growls, “I could fly over to your dad and set his house on fire. We dragons are pretty good at the flame stuff.”
I emit a choking laugh. “Nah. Thanks, but no thanks. I admit... I'm a little stuck now as to what to do. Even if I miraculously escape from you guys, I no longer have a home to return to.”
There's a brief pause as they digest my statement,
“At least she's honest about it,” Arula says, his amber eyes crinkling. “It's good to have a dream. But what will you replace it with?”
“I don't know,” I say, hopelessly sad.
Feltan bites his lip for a moment, concern wrought upon his face. It's interesting, in a way. Even though my pit of despair, I get the sense that Feltan and Arula do care for me in their own ways. They both take time out to talk to me, to play games with me, and to try and explain a little about their cultures. They both want me to settle down without too many ripples. And we all share something together in our sessions, when we strip away the masks of what we wear, and expose what lies underneath, and unleash it in a safe environment. I've wondered at times if Feltan continues to hire Arula because he likes him in a way that he's not willing to admit, since the cover of client works perfectly for the both of them. I also wonder if Arula is the same. If that's why he likes to spend so much time with Feltan as well. Because he enjoys it, more than he's ever willing to admit.
Apparently, admitting things is hard.
“How about you go and take a bath,” Feltan says at last. “Have a little time to yourself, clean up, and Arula and I will treat you to something afterwards. We need about an hour to prepare it.”
“We do?” Arula says, before seeing the wide expression in Feltan's handsome face. “Right. We do. So, uh, I'll carry you to the bath. Elle.”
Sniffling, I let out a startled hiccup when Arula scoops me up and strides with me towards the bathroom. His arms are warm and comforting around me, as is the palm pressed into my shoulder from Feltan.
Feltan wordlessly starts running the bath, before going into my room to fetch a new set of underwear and undergarments, placing them next to a fresh town in the bathroom. It takes about ten minutes for the bath to fill up, and then I'm left alone to dip myself into it.
I have no idea what Feltan's plotting, of course, though I'm a little cheered up by the fact he cares enough to consider something. Even if it's like giving me a stuffed toy or buying some cookies.
When I'm in the warm back, I rest my neck and back against one end, with my feet facing the faucet, glancing over at the shower unit. Again, I replay the short-lived phone conversation from my father, trying to find something different in it, trying to picture what I could have done differently. I could have waited for my mother. I could have lied and said I was one of mom's friends, maybe Susan, since my dad knows all of her friends. Maybe I could have started it with help me, I've been abducted, except I promised not to, and to be honest, I don't really feel like a victim right now. Maybe I feel so when it comes to my father, but even then, I did what I could to not be a victim. To come on top of society, to enjoy my time here. To find a way to feel loved, even when I didn't get it at home. That's what I'm conflicted with.
I could give it another month or so and try again. But I have no desire to return back to my world. Not to those false friends, without a home, without emotional support or the required education to get into Uni and subsequently plunge into debt.
I have nothing. I am nothing. The steam from the bath helps sweat out my face, making it hard to distinguish between the tears, and I scrub myself down, as if trying to scrub out all the bad feelings, until my skin is red and raw, and wrinkled like my heart.
The bath makes me feel cleaner, obviously, but it does nothing to fill up the empty. I towel myself off as best as able, and slam on the underwear and flimsy clothing, noting I'll need to obtain an extra layer to keep myself warm. No sooner when I start heading towards the door, when I hear a tentative knock.
“Hey, I'm back.” It's Feltan's voice, muffled through the keyhole. “Are you still in the bath or are you dressed up?”
“I'm dressed up,” I reply, and the door opens a moment after, revealing Feltan holding a bundle of warm fur clothes in his arms.
“Wear these. All of them. Arula and I will take you on a trip to explore Canada for the evening.”
“Huh?” I gape at him as he hands the clothes over.
“We discussed it. We want to help show you more of the world. Because I know how boring it must feel to be stuck here. And well, you've lost your home, so maybe... if we can show you the world, you might be able to feel that home isn't a place. It's where your heart is.”
Again, I think his execution is bad, but the thought is admirable. Still, A small, pleased smile creeps over my lips. Those kind of words touch me.
“Okay,” I say, clutching the robes. “I'll get dressed.”
Feltan gives me a beatific smile, and then steps forward to kiss me on the forehead. It is fleeting and beautiful, and something inside me aches with additional sadness – from the idea of being cared for.
When he leaves, I tug on the thick fur clothes, the balaclava and scarf, the gloves and socks, and eye the goggles. To protect me against the wind when we fly high. A rash of excitement and nervousness courses through me as I place the goggles on, and examine myself in the mirror by the sink. I look ridiculous, of course. Puffed up like a yeti, yet I know I'll be warm. And I suppose, if we're heading to Canada, we're really going to need every layer of protection offered.
Do I want to go? I don't know. I don't really feel like doing anything. But I can tell Arula and Feltan are working hard on this. They've suspended their interactions, the whippings, the sexual humiliation and satisfaction to do this.
In short, they're coming together to help put a smile upon my face. Maybe because Arula feels guilty for giving me the phone, even though his intentions were good, and he never
anticipated someone like my father.
I find the shifters outside, and they smile at me, before they both shift into their monstrous dragon forms. Feltan's iron gray form towers above me, and Arula has a kind of dark red taint to his light brown scales. Both of them similar to their eye colors, come to think of it. Perhaps this is true of all shifters.
Either way, I'm clambering onto Feltan's back with my warm clothes, which are at this moment in time, a little too warm for my comfort. I sit behind the bone frill of Feltan's head, finding bumps in his scales to grab hold of, and a ridge to sit my body on, so I don't slide around like an idiot. The idea of flying without some kind of seatbelt makes me nervous, but I clutch on tight as he lifts off into the air, and my stomach drops with the change of pressure. He doesn't choose to fly high, and I can hear the wind screaming around us, and the cold trying to whip a way into me, despite the protection offered by both Feltan's bone frill and my clothes.
When I stop clinging to him in an utter panic, and I grow used to his movements, and the steady beat of his bat-like wings in the air, I learn to appreciate the sight better. We sail past clouds in the approaching evening, and we see the sun sinking below the horizon, leaving an orange-red glow over North Dakota.
It doesn't take long to cross over into Canada, and the world gradually turns whiter, more frozen from the cold environment Canadians endure. The southern cities are mild, but I see the snow speckled plains, forests and towns ahead, and the darkness that's already swept the country.
It's damn well beautiful, being so high to see this. I've only ever been on a plane twice, and that was simply flying from state to state. I never got to sit by the window, so I never had the chance to truly admire what existed outside. Sure, I'd try in a plane, but my neck got sore from craning to try and see the world be swallowed up by clouds.
I have a brief flash of fear when I think about Feltan flying us through a thunderstorm, before it's quelled. My fingers are icy cold in my gloves, so I press my mouth to them and huff hot air to try and warm them up. The goggles, though limiting my vision somewhat, are probably what's saving my eyes from freezing off my face.
When Feltan and Arula eventually choose to land, they pick a small, secluded area with a lake and a cabin, and I see there's some fishing rods propped up by the water. The impact is soft, and Feltan patiently waits for me to slide off, before he morphs back into his human form, along with Arula, who lands shortly afterward.
“We won't be here long, admittedly,” Feltan says, appearing sheepish, “but I wanted to show you both one of my favorite spots to retreat to, when I want to get away from North Dakota for a bit. Even with the abode, I'm still in spitting distance. So it's nice to have something like this.”
I begin to walk slowly, testing the strength of my legs, and the cold air in my lungs, and admire the small, bachelor cabin with its one bed, small shower and kitchen. Comfortable if you're living alone, and don't like hoarding.
“This is where you go?” Arula examines the fishing rods. “Impressive. It's a wonderful location.”
“I was thinking of building upon it,” Feltan admits. “But I keep putting it off and off. I'll be happy to show you many other things, Elle, but I wanted to give this to you. This little cabin and this little lake. So you could have a place to go to.”
His words stab my heart and cause my eyes to well up in unexpected tears. Feltan appears alarmed at my reaction, but before he can ask what's wrong, I've leapt at him and crushed him in a gigantic hug, the kind that can crack rib bones and expel all air in your lungs.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear, and when we step back, he's embarrassed but happy at the same time. Same with me, I think.
I'm touched by the gesture, even though I'm not sure about the idea of having a lonely cabin by a lake in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. You know, with the bears and stuff. Still, he didn't have to offer this at all, he didn't have to do this at all.
I sit by the lake, taking off my goggles, and a few more tears slide down my face. Feltan and Arula sit on either side of me, and they let me have the chance to weep my heart out in the cold air. It's enough, that I'm not alone.
It's enough.
Chapter Four
Over the next two weeks, Feltan and Arula take it in turns to tour me around the world. It's incredible, the distances they can cover. They've even procured a little harness for me to wear during the flights, and I've ended up seeing a lot of places. We've gone to Manitoba and other areas in Canada. We've flown across North Dakota and ventured into South Dakota, Montana and Minnesota. The scenery in each of these places is absolutely epic, and being able to discover hidden waterfalls, land on secluded mountain areas and visit small towns is amazing. And I can do all this because the dragons are able to fly everywhere, and seem to like me. For some reason.
I admit I get worried about how air traffic control works, but it turns out that Feltan and Arula have both signed air permits to go to each of these states, and have little trackers on them that alert border authorities that it's these guys crossing. I'm amazed at the complexity behind it – and they inform me further that some of their kind have even been charging for personal flights from state to state, or for those who want the experience of being able to ride a dragon. Apparently, dragon popularity increased after Game of Thrones, and more and more humans had been seeking out these elusive shifters.
“There can't be much more than two hundred thousand or so of us in the world,” Arula says to me one evening, as we're sat back in the little abode, trying to complete out game of Risk. “Maybe more, but dragon shifters are rare. All of the mythical classification are. People really like seeing us.”
“Do you ever let humans into your tribal areas?” I ask, plotting ahead my next moves. We've completed a few games at this point, and I'm determined to win my first one. Arula won two, Feltan one. I have a good start this time, I secured South America fast, and I have just enough units in Europe to justify bottling Africa and take over that territory next. Technicalities aside, I like that I'm finding other ways to enjoy myself. Not just through playing mobile games as I did before, but by playing around a table top, socializing with Feltan and Arula.
I'm getting over the fact that my father has so brazenly refused to look after his own child, or trace back the number, or given an indication that he cares that I'm alive. I wonder what he's told his church community, what kind of excuse he's given to justify this behaviour. If the members of the church condone his behaviour or accept it.
God. I'd hate it if they accepted it, or took him at his word if he said something like I ran away to whore myself to people. But he's a respectable member of the community. He could very well have done that.
I could dispel the illusion by contacting someone else, but the more days that pass, the less desire I have to do so. I actually have a lot of what I need here. There's been no worry for earning money so I can get enough for Uni or to kickstart my life elsewhere. There's been no stress that I'm underachieving, or fear that the people around me don't like or love me, that I'm striving endlessly for affection that no one else wants to give.
These two shifters, though I think the way their society is structured can be cruel, are treating me better than the horror stories I've heard for others. My sexual desires are satisfied, too, through the strange interactions between us in the sex dungeon.
Do I love them both?
I don't know. I'm not really sure if I can love. Not like that. But am I fond of them? Yes. Of course. Feltan asked if I wanted to pool my hard earned money towards something in the future, and he'd help pay some of the extra costs, which is endearingly sweet of him. I don't really know what I want, but the offer is enough to make think that my life might be a whole lot better off sticking with these shifters. I no longer hold the same doubt inside when it comes to what we do. I look forward to our sex sessions. I look forward to just seeing both of them in general.
Both have such different body types and attitudes when
it comes to intimacy, but both stir my blood, and put me in that place to accept their touches, and to touch them in return.
“I just find that amusing about the dragon flights,” I say to them. “I could maybe pull off a Daenerys, get one of you to crash land in Comic-Con as a dragon, I bet that'll turn heads.”
Feltan chuckles, as he piles up his troops to assault Arula's Australian hold. Every single game, Arula does the same thing. He absolutely insists on holding Australia at all costs, and it lost him his last game.
“Well, maybe we'll have to do that. You know, if you want, we can give you another chance to contact your parents in the future. I don't mind.”
“It's okay,” I say. “I don't think they can make me happy like you guys.”
There's a profound, awkward silence that follows the statement. Feltan actually flushes pink with embarrassed flattery. Arula wears a peculiar smile, his eyes twinkling.
My brain catches up to my words, and now I'm equally embarrassed. Oops.
To save face, I divert the questions to something else that's been on my mind. Arula and Feltan. Not that them being on my mind is a surprise or anything.
“Do you two actually like each other, or is the relationship purely professional?” I ask.
Arula gives a snort. “Does this look professional to you? We gave up that pretence a few weeks back. Feltan hasn't paid for my last sessions at all.”
Feltan lets out a little gasp. “Oh, you're right! I'm sorry, let me...”
“No. Don't,” Arula says, holding up a hand. “It's okay. I like you both. Enough to consider making this more of a friends with benefits. And maybe more. But we'll see.”
At this response, Feltan gives a huge grin.
It's not so long after that, when we finish Risk – I won, of course, because I'm fabulous – that we all end up in bed together. Not in the sex dungeon this time, but in Feltan's normal bed, with me wedged in the middle, naked as the two shifters take their time caressing me. I sink into the sea of bliss, my eyelids fluttering shut, drowning in the moment. Where I started, it once looked like the best thing that had happened to me, but I see my childhood and teenage years in a film of gray, now. It is old and outdated, and my new lifestyle is slowly filling me with color, allowing me to see my family for who they are. Not a loving, Christian family, but a father who uses his religion as a cloak to control the people with him, who is intolerant. Who wanted a son, not a daughter, and lavished all his attention on my brother, whilst my mother just needed to do her chores every day, under fear of his wrath.
Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle Page 55
