by K. C. Cross
“OK. Let me stop you.” She looks confused and maybe a little hurt. “This is good or bad? I don’t understand.”
“Good.” I laugh. “Fucking fantastic. I’m…” I sigh. “So in awe of this moment.”
She points to me. “This isn’t awe, Pell. It’s… well, I don’t know what it is. But what the hell is going on?”
I cross the distance between, take her face in my hands, and look her in the eyes. “It is awe. With caution. Because if I get a taste of us like this, nothing will ever be able to compete with it.”
Her eyes search mine. And her response is low and soft. “It’s that good, is it? The way I look to you right now?”
I nod, smiling. “For me. You can’t understand. You can’t know what it’s been like to be stranded in another world where I don’t belong, but as myself.”
She reaches up and places her hand flat on my face. And then she just leans in and kisses me.
I kiss her back. Of course I do. Her tongue darts to my canine teeth, pressing against their sharpness, and I don’t know why that turns me on, but it does. It really does.
And now there is an ache building inside me. There is a longing for more.
We’re still kissing and all I can think about is how, eventually, this will end. And I never want it to end. And even though I have lived through so much, and it never ends, I just know that this moment is a finish line. And nothing will ever be the same again.
“Stop it.” Pie whispers these words into my mouth as we kiss. “Stop thinking. Just enjoy it.”
I want to. The fucking gods above know, I truly want to. And I will. I’m not going to let this one chance slip away.
But my heart is already starting to hurt when I walk her backwards, press her up against a tree, and slip my fingers between her legs.
The fur there isn’t fur. It’s skin, with just a shimmer of velvet covering. It’s as smooth as bare human skin, but better.
She moans when my fingers slip inside her. And then I return that moan with a growl of dominance when I lift her leg up and enter her as my true self. Her back arches against the tree as I reach down, hook my hands under her ass, and lift her up, pressing my body as close to hers as I can possibly get.
She grips my upper arms, digging her long, claw-like nails into my flesh as we fuck. And this time it is a fuck.
It’s not slow. It’s not easy.
It’s the kind of fucking you do when you can’t get enough of someone.
I grit my teeth, but it’s not pain I’m feeling. It just makes me want her more. Makes me thrust my hips forward with more force, pushing myself deep inside her. Her head dips down and she bites me on the shoulder and at the same time, I grab her hair, pushing it out of the way so I can push her tits up to my mouth and take her nipple between my teeth.
She lets out a moan when I bite back. But she doesn’t complain and she doesn’t ask me to stop.
And maybe that’s my problem?
Maybe that’s why the ache is there?
I have been trying to hold on to my humanity when I was never human to begin with.
We are fucking like gods and goddesses, because that’s what we are.
Damaged versions, yes. But does it matter?
And that’s when reality just… slips.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - PIE
There is suddenly a lot of laughter in the air. And the jingle of those tiny bells I’m wearing as jewelry. And we’re running.
I look over at Pell and smile. “Pell! You’re… little!”
That’s when I realize it’s me giggling. Because I’m not a grown-up—well, have I ever technically been a grown-up? Debatable. But the point is, I’m a kid again. Only I’m nothing like the kid I remember. I’m still a wood nymph chimera. And Pell is still a satyr chimera. But we can’t be more than twelve. Definitely not teenagers.
Pell looks super confused for a moment as we continue to run through an amazing field of tall grass and wild flowers. Blues, and yellows, and purples, and oranges. So many colors just bursting out all over the place. And the field is surrounded by a thick wood. But not a foreboding one. The trees aren’t dark and twisted. The leaves are the most spectacular shade of gold and the trunks are covered in smooth, white bark.
It’s incredibly spectacular. Some CGI right out of a blockbuster movie.
Pell’s confusion melts away as I continue to giggle at him. Then he’s laughing too.
I feel like we’re maybe a little bit high, that’s how surreal this is.
But we’re just kids. So I don’t think we are.
I think… I think we’re just happy.
Pell laughs. And we’re still running. My new legs feel natural now. I can jump things like a deer. Single leaps and I’m over things. I can bounce, and vault, and trot. I feel like a horse, but better.
I feel… like a wood nymph and the moment that thought manifests, I suddenly have this overwhelming sense of belonging.
My hooves are better than feet. The cloven halves can grip. There is no possible way I will slip, even when we run through mud. I am sure-footed, and nimble, and I love it. Like this is what it means to be me.
I laugh as we run. And Pell looks back at me, grinning. He’s faster, but he waits. And I am a hundred percent sure he will never leave me behind.
Soon we’re at the edge of the flower meadow and then we slip under the shady canopy of golden leaves and enter a world of white tree trunks. There’s a path in the woods. It’s dirt, and smooth, like you could be a human running barefoot on it and never step on a stray twig or pebble.
Then I giggle again, because I am barefoot. I just have hooves.
My body is similar to the one I was wearing in the last room. Surely that’s what’s happened here. We went to another room and now we get to be kids.
I’m maybe, kinda, sorta pissed that Pell and I didn’t get to finish that sex we were in the middle of having, but not really.
I’d rather be a kid. Not the kid I was, because she sucked. Her life was shit. No one was ever running beside her in a wood or slowing their pace so she wouldn’t get left behind. That life was nothing but being left behind. But a kid like this? I could be this kid forever.
Pell lets go of my hand and takes off in front of me. “Race you!” he calls.
And we do race. I’m good with these legs now. My running is natural and I’m so fast. I bounce from step to step and leap fallen trees like they are nothing.
This is what freedom feels like.
The race becomes a chase. And it feels never-ending. And that’s OK with me. This is all I want to do. I just want to run in these woods with Pell forever and ever.
But eventually we come out on the other side of the wood and I’m just about to pass Pell up and enter a new flower meadow when he grabs my hand and we stop. Just on the edge of the new space. Right there under the canopy of golden leaves.
Something is different about this place.
“We should go back,” little Pell says. He’s panting from the effort of the run. “We’re not supposed to be out here.”
“But it’s so close,” I hear myself say. “If you squint your eyes, and look through the trees, you can see. Can’t you see it, Pell?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he nods. “I can. But we should stay here.” He’s looking at me now, his eyes filled with hesitation.
“Don’t you want to peek?” I don’t even know what I’m talking about. But I don’t care, either. I stop trying to understand it and just give in to the wood nymph life with Pell.
“Of course I do. But if we’re caught—”
“We won’t get caught. We’re so fast. We’re like the wind.”
Pell isn’t buying it. “He doesn’t need to chase us to catch us.”
I look across the flower meadow and sigh. Things are different here. The tree leaves on the other side are a burnt orange color. Like fire. They remind me of the burning glow of embers inside Pell’s horns. And the flowers are mostly yellow. And both o
range and yellow are pretty, but these flowers and trees use the color as a warning. Like a poisonous frog.
I hold out my hand. It’s balled up tightly into a fist. Pell looks down at it, then back up at me. His yellow eyes are the color of sunshine on a summer day. He knows what the fist means, even if I haven’t quite caught up to myself yet, so he just nods his approval.
I take a deep breath, then close my eyes and picture what I want to see. Then I open them and my fist at the same time and an army of fluttering moths bursts up out of my palm.
The beautiful wood nymph moths are a flurry of orange and brown and yellow spots as they take off across the meadow. They hold a swarm formation until they reach the burnt orange leaves of the trees. Then they drift apart and flutter off and when I close my eyes again, I can see through them. As them. Hundreds of eyes see millions of things as we make our way through the wood, our wings brushing against leaves.
Some of us are eaten by perching lizards or waiting frogs. But most of us just keep going.
“What do you see?” Pell’s voice is low. Like he’s afraid. I don’t blame him. This wasn’t his idea. It was all me. I’m the one who wants to break the rules. I’m the one who wants to see their secrets.
He’s here so I don’t have to be alone.
I’m never alone. I love that about him.
“There’s a temple,” I say, telling him what my million eyes are seeing.
“What’s it look like, Pia?” Now he’s excited. He wants to know just as much as I do.
“It’s stone,” I say. “Dark stone like the kind you see in a river. And there’s an archway—”
Then… I don’t know what happens. I shift. My current consciousness collides with the fantasy and the little chimera me says, “It’s the freaking sanctuary. And did you just call me Pia?”
But it’s my grown-up voice, not my kid one.
Pell says, “You feel so fucking good.” But his voice is different too. And when I stop looking through the eyes of the beautiful wood nymph moths and see through my own eyes instead, he’s regular Pell again. Tall, muscular, monster Pell.
And when I look down, I’m grown-up Pie. Wood nymph Pie. Sitting in his lap, gripping his shoulders as we move in a rhythm. We’re still in the woods. But the dream world of chimera children is gone. Now we are just heavy breathing and sweat. Pell is looking at me with lust. We’re on the ground now, his back pushed up against the smooth white bark of the tree trunk, and he’s twisting his fingers into my long, blonde hair as we go searching for the climax.
I close my eyes, and for a moment my vision flickers between the two places. Those moths are still on their mission. Circling the temple in the burnt-orange woods. And I can still see through their eyes.
“What do you see?” It’s little Pell again.
“Gods,” I say. “Fighting.”
“Who? Which ones?”
“Juno,” I whisper. “And Saturn. Ostanes is there as well.”
“What is he doing to her?” Little Pell’s voice is no longer calm. He sounds worried. In fact, he doesn’t sound like Pell at all.
“They’re just shouting.”
“He’s going to hurt her, Pia. He’s going to hurt her until she tells him where she put it.”
I shake my head, eyes still closed. “She’s going to hide us. She told me.”
“What?” Pell’s voice is deep again, but his question is just an instinct. Like the running. He and I are moving fast. Frantic to reach the end and get relief. And when I open my eyes the view of the temple is gone and there is nothing left but us.
Grown-up us.
Cursed us.
We come at the same time. He pulls my hair when I bite his shoulder, hugging each other tight, like we never want this moment to end. And then I collapse against his chest and we slowly lean over and curl up together on the soft mound of cool grass under a canopy of gold leaves, surrounded by white trunks.
We sleep.
When I wake, the moths are back. They walk across my face, and my shoulders, and my legs. Some of them flutter above me, like they are waiting for orders.
I look over at Pell so see if he’s watching, but he’s still asleep.
He’s not small though. And neither am I. We’re ourselves again. Well, he’s himself and I’m the new wood nymph chimera me.
I don’t know what that means. The dream—if that’s what it was—is still very fresh in my mind. I can see that forest of trees. I can see through the eyes of the moths as they traveled through the woods. I can see the temple—that was one hundred percent our sanctuary, even though it seems very out of place in time and architectural style. And I can see the god. What did I call him?
Saturn.
And the women? Ostanes. The alchemist. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. And Juno, of course.
Wait. How do I know that?
But in the same moment that I’m thinking those words, my palm is opening and then all the moths begin to flutter their way into the center of it. One by one by one they tap their little feet to my skin and then disappear. Like they’re falling into a hole.
Did I know that would happen?
Yes.
Do I know why it’s happening?
No fucking clue.
Moths. I make a face. I mean, they really are pretty. They’re not called the beautiful wood nymph because they’re ugly. But they are still moths. I’m just not sure how to feel about playing host to a bazillion insects and being able to send them out like a swarm of drones to spy on ancient gods and their alchemists. Even if none of this is real, just the product of a magic hallway, it’s disconcerting to control moths.
“What the fuck is that?”
I turn and see Pell looking at my hand. The moths are still piling into my open palm. Disappearing one, by one, by one.
Out of instinct I close my palm and all the moths just disappear. Even the ones who hadn’t made it back inside me yet. I spend a brief moment wondering if that will affect me in some way. But when I open my palm back up, they don’t reappear. “Oh, well… that’s just my little magic moths coming home from a recon mission.” I laugh and look over at Pell.
He’s not laughing. “What?” And his one word comes out with so much annoyance, I kinda lean back a little to put distance between us.
“Wow. For a guy who just got fucked into unconsciousness, you’re in a bad mood.”
His eyes narrow down and the yellow sunshine turns into a hellfire. “What the hell were you doing with those moths?”
I look at my palm again. “Putting them away, I think.”
“Explain that.”
I sit up and scoot back from him. I’m still in my wood nymph chimera body, and I’m nothing like the little girl who was running through the woods. I’m not used to these long, gangly limbs, so my hoof kicks against Pell’s leg. He winces and pulls away. And now we are twice as far apart as we were when we woke up from the hot sex.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling my too-long legs up to my body and tucking them underneath my hindquarters. Wow. I have to pause on those words in my thoughts. I have hindquarters.
“What. The fuck. Were you doing with those moths, Pie?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“I want to know what that was.”
“I don’t know. I’m not in charge here. I was in a dream. You were there. And we were kids. Kids like this.” I pan my hand down my body. “And we were running—”
“The moths, Pie! I want to know about the fucking moths!” He gets to his feet so he’s towering over me. Pointing at me.
I scramble to my own feet, because I’m not getting stuck in that submissive position while he goes on a rampage over some fucking bugs. I smack his hand away. “Don’t point at me. It’s rude. And I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but you’re not allowed to talk to me that way.”
“What way?” He sneers the words.
“All rude and shit. Like you’re my boss.”
“I am literally your b
oss.” He lets out a long breath and rubs his hand over his head, scrubbing at the stubble on there. He had longer hair as a kid. It was rippled and blond and it fell over his shoulders in tangled waves. “Pie?” His voice is softer now. Sweeter. But it’s fake.
“Pell?”
“What were you doing with the moths?”
“I was… well. Do you remember the dream? Where we were during our romp?”
“What dream?”
Clearly, he does not. “That’s the only way I know how to explain it. We were running in a meadow. There were flowers and trees with gold leaves and white trunks.” His face. I don’t know what to make of his face. “Pell? Are you OK?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The dream? While we were having sex? I was running in the woods with you. But we were kids. And we were spying on a temple. No. On the sanctuary! And there were gods there, Pell. Juno and Saturn. And some alchemist called—”
“Ostanes.”
“Yeah. Her. Well.” I shake my head. “I only saw them through the eyes of the moths. They came out of my palm and flew into the forest and I could see through them.”
“No, Pie. You weren’t there. I was with Tarq that day. There was no Pie. It was me and it was Tarq.”
“Well, in the dream it was me. I saw it. I let my moths loose to spy. I wasn’t this other guy called Tarq.”
“Trust me, Pie. You were not there. I was there. Tarq was there. Tomas was there… somewhere. You?” He points at me. “Not there.”
I want to fight about this for some reason. I’m not even sure it’s worth fighting over, but I have a sudden urge to volley back a counterpoint. And that’s dumb. So I force myself to act rational. “OK. I mean, what am I gonna say? I saw it.”
“It must just be the hallways messing with us. Showing you things from my past.”
I want to object to that too, but it feels wrong to do so. Like I just want to keep the argument going. Because I don’t know for sure. It was, maybe, after all, just a stinking dream. I blow out a long breath. “Sure. Yeah. That’s probably it.”
We pause the fight. Stare at each other intently for a few moments. Breathing hard and both of us unsettled.
