Page 57 of The Longing

“I am…” Fenrother looks at me, sidling slowly to protect me from Warden, “sorry.”

He probably could not have sounded less sorry, but the words calm the great centaur some, and it looks like no one is getting eaten today.

“Queen Mab wants us all under her control,” Warden says, his voice low and deadly.

“No one controls me,” Fenrother snarls. “Not even the queen. I have a mate. My fate is set.”

At the mention of a mate, it looks like Warden has been kicked in the chest. A dangerous, feral look comes over his face.

“Your fate is still open, Warden,” I say. “If you want. No one’s fate is set.”

Both monsters swivel to stare at me as if I have sprung from the ground.

Warden snorts a hot breath, pawing at the ground briefly. His eyes dart between Fenrother and me, then he turns around and gallops away from us.

“What did he want?” I ask, given I wasn’t party to whatever went on in the now pretty much destroyed copse.

“He wants to know his place in the Yeavering,” Fenrother grumbles. “He was once an enforcer for a Faerie lord, not Guyzance, but his experience in the Night Lands…it has changed him from one who knew his future, and now he knows nothing but violence and battle. He will never know peace, not while he returns to the Night Lands, governor or no.”

FENROTHER

Irelease Alice as we land in the courtyard, changing back from a Wyrm as I do so. I used to prefer my Wyrm form, often spending months in it, but around her, I find I like this form almost as much.

Probably because this form has pockets. Pockets which mean I can carry her garments around with me, scenting them at will. In fact…I pull out the red fabric and I take in her scent from her garment as she walks ahead of me into the main vestibule.

It is delicious and it makes my pizzle instantly hard.

Although fighting with Warden whilst she was present had a similar effect, albeit briefly. I fought for her and my pizzle swelled.

Mating is very strange.

I wonder if there is anything in my text which might explain what is happening.

“Fenrother…” Alice looks over her shoulder at me as we enter the main hall, and her eyes widen as she sees what I have in my hand, her previous sentence forgotten. “Are those my…knickers?”

“Your undergarments? These?” I tuck them back in my pocket. “No?”

She puts her hands on her hips, and my pizzle nearly pokes its way out of my trousers without any assistance.

“They were! Why do you have my knickers in your pocket?” she demands.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I’m not entirely sure why I don’t want to tell her about the garment, but I do know I want to keep them.

In a blink of my eye, Alice is next to me, arms around my waist and one hand delving into my pocket, pulling the garment out.

“These are mine!” she exclaims, waving them in the air and filling it with her scent.

“I think you’ll find they are mine,” I growl, clamping her to me with one arm and snatching the garment from her. “You are mine.”

I need her kiss, so I take it. For a brief second, Alice resists, but then she kisses me back, not attempting to dominate, but instead she is with me in the moment, giving and taking as my tongue sweeps her mouth. I wasn’t sure if my pizzle could get harder, but it has. It aches in my pants, needing to be free.

Needing to be inside her. It’s the only place I want to be. The only place I ever want to be, with Alice, inside Alice, curled around Alice.

“You can’t carry my dirty pants around, Fenrother.”

“There is nothing dirty about this garment, I assure you.” I finger the fabric in my pocket, and the mere touch sends heat flowing through me. “It smells like you, and I like you.”

“You like me?” Alice’s face breaks into a smile, a little like the one I saw on her face as we were walking around Moranick when she was looking at the goods on offer.

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