Page 31 of Our Dark Winter Wish

7

Shaw

The fire is roaring, and the room is beautifully warm. I’m on one end of the sofa with Pixie’s head in my lap. Archie is curled up on the other end. His eyes are closed, and his hands rest on her ankles.

Dorian sits in his favourite armchair, watching the flames as he sips from a glass of amber liquid.

As she sleeps, I run my fingers through the long curls of pure silver, and I read one of the many books we brought with us.

Pixie twitches. I look down at her, and she releases a little whimper.

‘Nightmare,’ I sigh, my hand resting on her head. I feel it. Her mind ripples with misery, and it tastes foul.

My poor girl.

‘Again,’ Dorian groans, his eyes narrowing as she twitches more violently. ‘I would have thought they would at least ease up. But it’s almost every night.’

‘No…’ she mumbles. ‘No. Please… no!’

‘Shaw,’ Dorian encourages.

‘I’ve got it.’ I rest my hand on her head, ready to steal her terrors. The same as I do every night. Over and over again before the house trembles and the ground churns, threatening to bury us all alive.

I fall into her nightmares and pluck her from the grip of her many horrors. Instead, she finds herself in an endless field of white. The hills roll on and on, coated in a thick blanket of pristine snow. Straight ahead is a great fir tree towering over us. One so big, I can’t see the top. Her head tilts back as she takes it in, and she relaxes as a robin flies past her. I make the bird circle her head a few times until she giggles. And when my arms wrap around her from behind, she sinks into me. Her hands grip me tightly as she holds me close.

‘Hello, you,’ she says with a heavy sigh of relief.

‘Hello,’ I reply, kissing her cheek.

We face the great fir tree. Archie described what a Christmas tree looks like, so I decide to give her my impression of one.

I make candles appear on the branches. Their flames flicker a beautiful orange. More and more swirl into existence, circling around and around until they reach the very top. Golden ivy swirls around it, and coloured pinecones grow in the branches.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she says softly. ‘I can’t wait to decorate one of our own tomorrow.’

I begin to hum and sway. My memory of a song I heard played in the king’s court starts to play all around us as if a harpist were at our side.

Tomorrow is Christmas day, and I find myself excited. All of it will be something new and different. The finding of the tree. The sharing of gifts. All cooking the meal together.

And we get to share it all with one another.

I dance with my witch beneath our great festive tree, feeling the snow land on our skin and our ears filled with the sound of music.

I don’t have nightmares when I walk with her. She keeps my mind on a peaceful path. And often, a naked one.

I spent the night dancing, walking and fucking. A perfect way to pass the time.

I wake to her in my arms, still lying on the sofa. She’s atop me, her entire form so small compared to mine.

Her lips turn into a smile.

‘Good morning,’ she says happily, wriggling a little so her legs settle comfortably between mine. ‘Oh. A verrrry good morning, I see.’

Her stomach nuzzles into my erection as I stretch myself out to rid my limbs of the clicks and stiffness.

Her wriggling does nothing to ease the stiffness in my cock. And when her hand slides beneath my trousers, I have zero complaints. I rest my hands behind my head as she opens my trousers and shimmies down.

‘Seeing as you spared me a night of horror, maybe I can give you a morning of pleasure.’

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