The Dance of Wolves
CHAPTER 16: Aksal

I’m relieved to open my eyes, in my own body and no longer living through someone else's experiences. I am myself again in my human form. That’s when it registers there is something hot and hard pressing against my back. It's Amal's --?!

“Ow-ow, you jerk, get your knee off of me! It’s killing my spine.”

“My apologies, mate.” His deep, melodic voice answers me lazily in his sleep. Amal lowers his knee and pulls me closer, audibly sniffing in my scent.

His strong, sinewy arms are wrapping around me, holding me warmly; it feels comforting and safe. I can feel the hard mounds of his chest against my back and I can almost forget the horrors of my dream vision. He nuzzles his chin against the nape of my neck and goosebumps erupt all over; it tickles a little and makes me smile.

One of his hands runs down and across my torso. I moan and turn it into a yawn out of embarrassment, but I can’t hide my body’s reaction so easily. ‘Thank the Goddess he’s asleep’, I think as I reach down to take care of it. I’m laying on my dominant arm so it takes a moment to build up a rhythm with the other hand. I need a visual, but the only thing I can think of is that kiss from yesterday and Amal's face.

“Mm, your scent is so intense this morning, Aksal,” Amal’s wandering hand rubs and pinches the buds of my chest and down the center of my abdomen and-- I freeze when his hand covers mine.

“You’re fully awake now, aren’t you?” I brace myself to sit up and move away but he easily rolls me into his chest. I push at his pecs and raise my head up and back automatically. Amal takes advantage of my motion again to kiss me. My heart palpitations move to my stomach and feel like the flutter of tiny wings. I know he can scent my arousal and it turns me on even more.

Just like yesterday, I’m intoxicated by his wild, sweet and smoky scent. He pulls back to look at me and all I see is brilliantly handsome. I admire him through my lashes as I close my eyes and lean in for another taste of him. His lips meet mine with a deeper, more firm kiss while he removes my grip on my member and places it around his and he strokes my shaft instead.

“Mmm, let me help you with that. In fact, we can help each other,” he speaks smoothly next to my ear. I can’t think of a reason to stop this. I can’t think at all. “Let’s do our best to get along,” he chuckles, wickedly. The vibrations of his deep voice resonates in a new flare of goosebumps across my body.

My mind is going numb with how good every sensation feels-- his scent, his touch, the flavor of his tongue, the sound of the moans passing from his mouth to mine that I return in kind, the look of desire in his expression. My hips thrust my cock into his hand in a desperate rhythm. The build-up is too much. I break from the kiss to gasp for air and he dips his head into the crook of my neck and bites. His mark is the trigger that bursts me into pieces.

My hand that stopped moving as I came and reflexively squeezed his cock, started moving again once I collected myself. I gathered the wetness I left on his abdomen, letting the new slickness in my hands give him more pleasure. My eyes are open and focused on him because I want to see his expression when he climaxes. Somehow my own lingering satisfaction made me bold. I don't feel embarrassed by what I'm doing to him. No, I stroke him with the sole intent to see him drop his sobriety and lose his shit; I intensify rubbing my thumb over the head and twisting my hands around the shaft. I snake my other hand down to knead his sac. I feel it tightening up. He’s close.

“Aksal… Please.” Even begging like this, his words are like sin dipped in chocolate, velvety smooth and wanting. Somehow, it makes me feel powerful because I made him like this. I trace his jugular with my tongue and suck his skin between my teeth, just shy of piercing it. He moans in my ear, sending shivers down my spine and it's addictive. I hear him groan his release; his expression, a mix of anguish and pleasure, slowly relaxes into bliss as I watch.

“That was...unexpectedly amazing.” Amal kisses my forehead and hugs me to him. I raise a brow wondering what he meant by ‘unexpectedly’, I may not be experienced being with someone else sexually but masturbation?--Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I'm not afraid to grow hair on my palms. Apparently he isn't either, initiating this with gusto as he did, we may be more alike than I thought. I couldn’t imagine myself being this intimate with someone before and now I’m think I could get used to it.

***

Not long after the lingering pleasure subsides, Amal sits up slowly and I follow suit. “Aksal, there is something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” I haven’t learned to read him yet, he’s always so serious. Sometimes I expect doom and gloom when all he wants to say is something mundane like ‘dinner was great’.

“When you permanently bond with me, it’s possible you’ll gain Fae sight and perhaps Fae power. I won’t know how strongly you’re affected until we get to my pack since it lies on the border of our realms.”

“Does that mean I could see through a glamour or even create one the way you do with your clothes?” Thinking about the vision from last night, it would certainly be useful.

“Yes. And though it may sound cool at first, some of the things you’ll see could drive you insane because you’re unaccustomed to it.” He fidgets with my fingers as he says this.

“Demi marked Alma last night. You gave me a temporary mark just moments ago. It should be fine to introduce me slo--what the hell is that?!” I point.

Amal’s eyes follow the direction to a two-legged humanoid standing maybe 1 ft. 6, barefoot, with a leather cap and a matching loincloth. It resembled a toddler with the beard of an old man.

“Oh, it’s more of a who than a what. It’s from the race of Pukwudgies. They’re mischievous but relatively harmless. It seems like they’re pretty lazy because all I ever see them do is fish, lounge in the garden smoking a pipe, or play chess with a Loveland frog, but when they say they are only making time, they mean it literally as that is their job.”

“Is that so? The only Fae I know of are the Nunyunuwi, the stone people of the mountains. As a sign of gratitude for support during the Fae wars, they helped our pack build a fortress for our packhouse.” I scratch my head. “So...are you gonna tell me what a Loveland frog is?”

“It’s a race of three-foot tall, talking frogs, but they aren’t native to the lands this far to the northeast,” he replies matter-of-factly.

And they play chess. I nod, trying to imagine it. “Well, it appears that I can see Fae now, but I still can’t see through your glamour.”

“I’m not using any at the moment.” Amal stood up and offered me a hand.

“So, you mean, this.” I wave my hand up and down indicating his perfect features and well-defined body. “This is really what you look like?” Ever since he told me he was part Fae and that he was using glamour for his clothes, I considered that maybe he looked like an average guy who wanted attention. But no, he’s the real deal, an undiscovered male supermodel.

“You... don’t like me like this?” Amal seemed more puzzled than hurt; talk about confidence.

“You’re the picture dictionary definition of gorgeous. You’re probably everyone’s type. You stand out. But I, I don’t like that feeling of being on stage when I'm next to you-”

He tilts his head slightly, “This is why you said it’s uncomfortable being with me? I admit I hoped you were just feeling nervous because you were becoming more aware of me.”

Well, he’s not wrong but I’m not ready to confess anything. I nod noncommittally, then gasp as something else catches my eye. It resembles a morning glory bush but the petals are the size of lilies. There are several bushes with flower petals ranging from solid to a rainbow of shades. I run over to them and stop. “Is it okay for me to touch?”

“Ah, those are Fae morning glories. Plants and animals living in or near the Fae lands absorb the magic around them and develop differently. As for these, the solid colored ones, like the indigo flowers here are safe to touch, the others may cause a reaction like poison ivy. The safe ones are edible as well. Try it.”

He walks over and plucks a flower. “Like this.” He tips the flower like a glass to his lips and takes a sip, then offers one to me. It’s a little sweet, like tangerine and orange juice without the acidity of citrus. The petals taste like vanilla-flavored fondant.

“What about superstitions about eating Fae food?”

“Well, that applies to processed foods; the combination of ingredients can have undesirable and lasting effects on mortal humans, but we’re shifters.”

Okay, so processed foods are bad here too, so much for my fantasies. I take another glance around hoping to see something else.

“Are there any other Fae--plants or creatures here that I missed?”

Amal points to a small patch of reeds near the water. “There are probably Nightcrawlers in the thicket.” He explains there are two kinds, the Wishbones look like walking sticks of bamboo with bow legs and beady black eyes, they’re affiliated with summer Fae. Their cousins look more like white birch but they’re both part of the Nightcrawler family. I expected snakelike earthworms with hypnotizing eyes and who talk with a lisp so I’m relieved.

“What about making bargains or just talking to them, aren’t there special rules for that? Do they really always tell the truth?”

“Aksal, I strongly advise you to make no bargains with them. The Fae believe strongly in every word they say, but they are master manipulators of language and they’re trickier to deal with than a lawyer, judge, or politician. A Fae could promise to tell you the truth about something but then they’ll only tell the truth as they see it, not necessarily a fact about that same something.”

I try to make sense of what he said, but my thoughts are interrupted by a sound like the caterwaul of a mountain lion off in the distance, to the east of us. “Are there any Fae creatures we should be wary of?”

Again, I think of last night and how Demi stood to watch. It may have been because we were exposed but …

“Well, that sound we just heard...it could be a regular mountain lion but if it’s Fae, it could be a wampus cat. Wampus cats are half woman, half cat, and all hunter. It’s known for its insane eyes and an eerie, frozen, toothy expression between a true smile and a grimace. Never look them in the eyes or you’ll be lured into the abyss; a void from which there is no escape, only darkness and a feeling of falling until the end of time.”

Damn. “So, uh, what do they hunt?”

“The same prey we do more or less, they don’t go for other predators, normally. Honestly, the more powerful, dangerous Fae don’t usually come to the outskirts of their realm. ”

We shift and run on, there is another day and a half to get to his pack’s lands. I finally get some alone time with Alma. She has no memory of the events from my dream and cautions me against investigating further. I promise to be careful and to share what I’ve dreamt with Amal.

___

A/N Things are getting spicy!