Chris continued traveling all through the night. The yards were growing into miles and Pyxis was where he hoped it would be . . . well behind them.

He stopped in the morning for food and a few hours of rest. Though the plan was to stay hidden during the daytime, the afternoon was dim, foggy, and rainy. That took the Crown Champions out of play—they couldn't fly well with wet wings—and provided Chris with enough coverage to keep moving.

By nightfall, the sky had cleared, showcasing every possible star the eye could see and a big, bright full moon. It would have been the perfect night to journey on, but Chris was going to call off the adventure for a little while. He was nursing more than just the back injury. With the dampness came the blisters and the chafing pretty much everywhere his skin touched leather or fabric.

Chris found a dense patch of white pine trees on a steep hillside, sheltered on two sides by a couple of boulders, taller than his human size by a foot or two. There were no footsteps, broken branches, or misplaced leaves nearby. Perhaps no one had ever even been there before. They were on high ground with a clear view of the valley and lake below as well. The spot was not only picturesque; it was almost ideal.

He hung his pack in the highest branches he could reach. Then he lowered the cord, Modified, dressed in just undershorts and an unbuttoned shirt, and climbed atop the pack to join the others.

Chris collapsed into a sitting position with both a wince and a sigh of relief.

The others were busily abuzz and cheerfully whispering. "That was a long day" . . . "What a bumpy ride."

The tent construction, meal preparation, childcare, and so forth were already underway.

Chris didn't want to seem ungrateful or antisocial, but once Cassie tended to his wounds, the old and the new, and gave him his medicine, he took his favorite flannel blanket and crashed where he stood—no pack pocket, no tent—and not even that far removed from the activity.

Sleep. That was all he was capable of at that moment.

He awoke with a start at the howl of a wolf. He couldn't believe their luck earlier. The wolf pack was the reason they escaped without a hitch. Wasn't that a different pack in a different territory? And could a new one mean trouble?

Chris shivered in the cool night breeze and turned toward the touch on his shoulder.

"It's all right," Cassie assured him. "We're perfectly safe here. He's only letting us know that he's watching out for us." 

Chris clutched and then tugged Cassie's wrist, rolling her beneath the blanket and onto his stomach.

She yelped in what appeared to be an attempt to fall gracefully while trying not to hurt him or collapse against him too completely.

"You speak wolf?" He leaned up for her lips, and took them, deep but brief. He did want an answer. "Is that why they helped us?"

Cassie glanced over her shoulder, no doubt checking for witnesses. It was fully dark, after midnight most likely, and they were alone—for now—but they were out in the open and no one was on any sort of consistent sleeping schedule. "I can communicate in a great many ways."

She nipped him back, over and over again, light but all-consuming as if she was trying to silence his amazement.

Chris broke away, outward and up. Cassie's lips moved along the stubbly passage from his ear to Adam's apple. She was piquing his interest with more than just mouth and body, although those were doing a fine job as well. "Oh yeah? How many ways? English, French, wolf. Am I missing any?" His hands tugged at her blouse, tucked tight at the waist. "What is this?" Now underneath her outer layer, he poked at her sides, which were exasperatingly swathed in strips of course fabric from bustline to below her skirt.

"I didn't have any undergarments."

He was digging his fingers into any opening he could find. "Is that a bad thing?"

She squirmed and laughed with an abandonment he'd never heard from her before. "Chris! You're tickling me!"

"And I'll keep tickling you until you take off the mummy wrap or answer my question!"

Chris rolled Cassie onto her back and swooped below the blanket. His fingers went to work. Buttons first. Then teeth for layers of fabric, his mouth there to tease her skin . . . once he found some.

A dainty sliver of stomach just below her navel, the soft crevice beneath her breast. . .

Her scent was strong within their blanket bundle. Her taste was a sugar-high that cycled from brain to groin and back again, the exhilaration and the stimulation complementing each other, feeding off each other, making him absolutely ravenous.

Her hands went into his hair and her gasps and giggles just goaded him on. "You do know someone might see you."

"Meh," was Chris's dismissive mumble. He was busy. His mouth was otherwise engaged.

But, mere moments later, a distinctly male throat was cleared, loud and firm enough to make his presence and identity immediately and unquestionably known.

Chris worked his head up and out, and when it popped into the cool air, he realized he was caught beneath the last connected button of Cassie's blouse.

Orion had been a pace away from their bobbing, entangled bodies with a torch in hand, staring down at the two of them. "Cassiopeia, there's a place waiting for you in the fem-fairy tent and I think it is high time you retire to it."

"Yes, thank you," she replied sweetly, more so than Orion deserved.

While Cassie rose to her knees, covering herself up as best she could, Chris rolled to his back and stared through the branches shrouding the moon.

Silent time was ticking by. No one spoke or made a move. Even Orion's glare settled in on Chris's skull. Chris didn't want to acknowledge it, but he could certainly feel it, both the heat and the chill. Would Orion find the nerve to say something else, even more patronizing than before? To Chris, perhaps? Was he waiting to escort Cassie to the "fem-fairy tent" as if she were some untrustworthy teenager, unlikely to make it there on her own accord?

No, it wasn't just territorialism and the need the protect a young fem-fairy in his care. He's in love with her too!

If Orion was angry and jealous, which he was, then Chris was livid, almost beyond control or reason. What is wrong with me?

It wasn't a sentiment spoken or acted upon. It was just there, heavy in the air, and whatever was in that air—it certainly wasn't oxygen—was making him almost animalistically crazy and possessive.

At long last, Orion fluttered away. He extinguished the torch with a huff and went inside his own tent. And finally, the air cleared. It was almost breathable again.

Chris exhaled, surprised by how much bottled breath he'd been holding. Only when Cassie smiled down at him, a brush of her hand against his cheek, did he even consider giving her a strained one back.

"Try not to be too chagrined by Orion. He's falling into the old habit of protecting my virtue."

"Isn't that my job now?" 

"Yes." Cassie propped herself over him with both arms. Her blouse and makeshift undergarments were still very much disheveled. It was the yearning in her eyes that was making him tremble . . . and ache. His arousal grew maddening again when she kissed him, so deep, and with more forward momentum than he ever remembered receiving, from her or anyone. But it didn't last long. She pulled away, too abrupt for his desperate lips, and began re-buttoning her blouse. "But that's a conflict of interest."

Chris rolled after her, sat up, and gripped her thigh as she was about to stand. "It doesn't have to be. So you can stay. And you can trust me."

"I know. And I do." She leaned her forehead against his. "I just don't trust myself." She pecked his lips in a way that felt even less conclusive than the kiss prior.

Chris sat there on the bare fabric of his pack, baffled, watching her walk away with his only blanket draped over her shoulders. He wasn't one for sharing a tent with anyone, unless it was with her, of course. But there were too many fairies, too few tents, and there was too much judgment being tossed around for that to happen. And it appeared she was leaving him to fend for himself with only the memory of her company to keep him warm.

His eyes zoomed in on a streak of moonlight, filtering through the branches just beyond the fem-fairy tent where Angelica and Carina were sleeping. Chris never expected Cassie to make it to the moonlight, past the tent, and yet she did. And there she stopped to turn her gorgeous head. Her hair looked black against the nighttime forest background, but her skin was radiating a divine opalescence.

Their eyes never met, but in her side-view expression, there was something wistful and magical there, like she was promising to share the answers to many of life's great mysteries. All he had to do was follow her and love her. Both were already a given. He'd follow her anywhere. His love was infinite and forever.

It felt like a dream, a perfect dream for once. She wasn't running, there were no enemies or pursuers in sight, and he wasn't going to have any trouble catching her. Not this time.  

Chris didn't want to waste another moment overthinking what was before him. He found his feet—quickly—and joined her side, taking her by the hand. At her squeeze, Cassie led the way, dashing to the edge of Chris's pack. They used the rope to descend to the ground. Then they flitted toward the boulders like fairy lovers who had not a single worry.

When they could flee no more, Cassie wrapped her arms around Chris's neck. On tiptoe, she brought her lips closer to his ear. "Do you think we can climb to the top? I want to see the stars."

"Um," Chris replied through a timid laugh. "We can probably arrange that."

She slid her hands down the contour of his chest, one of her thumbs rubbing across the buttons of his shirt. The majority of his were still latched.

When her hands dropped to her side, she walked toward the view of the valley, allowing him a moment of privacy to undress and Modify. It was more challenging than usual to transform, regardless. She was a few steps away and he was fully naked, and would be in either state. It was nearly impossible to concentrate beyond the implications.

But he did, somehow. He returned to his human form. And when Cassie lifted her arms and the blanket to enable his grasp, he carried her to the highest and flattest place on the rock he could reach and set her down there. 

He went around to the side of the boulder, where smaller rocks would enable him to climb to the top and meet her there. As he crawled over the last ledge, he paused for a second to Modify once again, this time back to his fairy size.

With his clothes unassumingly placed over his center, Chris spotted Cassie on a mossy crevice of the plateau where she had laid the blanket. He joined her there and kneeled upon it, resting his body on his calves, his fairy clothes placed in his lap. He was straightening them out for re-wear when Cassie stepped directly in front of him. She took the clothes from his lap and tossed them aside.

Where they now were, the moonlight was impressively bright. His desire to have her was impossible to deny.

She closed any gap there was between them. He was facing those blouse buttons again, but this time she was unbuttoning them for him. Her skirt was already off. How did he miss that? And the strips of fabric she was using for underwear were lying in a pile beside it.

By the time she reached the bottom buttons, Chris was kneeling, his mouth pursuing hers. His hands were going up and down her back and over her bare behind.

When Cassie shrugged out of her blouse and latched herself around Chris's neck, he suddenly swept her off her feet by her thighs and placed her on her back.

Still in her grip, he joined her, on top, kissing her, loving her, wanting her, anywhere, everywhere. Although he was very tangled and fully engaged, his head snapped toward another dog-like noise, not a howl but a whine.

On the highest peak, on the highest boulder, he spotted the whitish underside of a gray wolf. His curious eyes were huge and fixed right on them, but he was more concerned with the height and width of its jaw and the sharpness of his teeth. At Cassie and Chris's size and in their state of vulnerability, the wolf could strut right over and swallow them whole if it chose to do so.

The wolf went from a sitting to a lying down position as Chris's lips touched Cassie's temple. His hand slid up her thigh. Then the sound he heard was more like a growl.

"I'm not trying to hurt her!" he lifted and turned his head to say.

At her giggle, he shook his head and sighed. The interruptions. There was truly no escape!

He shifted to the side, resting on a hip and elbow as he watched Cassie's eyes flutter closed. She remained very still on her back, like she was sleeping. She took a slow, deep breath. Her arms were laxly up, her hands just overhead, and her fingertips were rolling as if she were manipulating the breeze.

Within moments, the wolf bolted into the forest like it was being chased.

Chris could feel himself beaming as he took his first full view of just her, no clothing, no blanket, no obstacles, and—fingers crossed—no more interruptions. She was petite, but still very much a woman, though there was one noteworthy fairy marvel. Other than the hair on her head, her skin was smooth and bare everywhere else.

He slid his palm and fingertips from her pelvis to between her breasts. There was a scar there, on her shoulder as well. Not a day would ever go by where he could forget the circumstances under which they were administered. But now was not the time to dwell.

Cassie's eyes eased back open and went fully wide, maybe a little with apprehension, but there was an unprecedented openness in them as well. She was ready. She trusted him with her body and the secrets hiding behind those mesmerizing eyes.

"I know thirty-seven human languages," she informed him. "Plus twenty-two fairy dialects, some of which haven't been spoken aloud in centuries. I've taught myself elfish words so I could read their records as well. I know languages for the blind and the deaf. If animals are capable of higher thought, I can enter their minds and 'speak' to them if I focus. Beyond that, I can sense the most dangerous emotions like fear, anger, and hatred, but I've never been able to truly enter the mind of a fairy . . . not until I met you. And don't worry. My entry is not complete, but if my concentration is deep, I get glimpses of how you work inside."

"You are . . . incredible." There were tears in his eyes. He only realized it because she was wiping them away for him. "But what does that say about me? Why me? You are too good for me."

"That's where you're wrong. There is so much good in you, more than I've ever seen, more than I'll ever have. I battle the darkness every day and there will be days I lose. I've always been drawn to that integrity and decency, that which doesn't falter. I knew from the beginning it was more valuable to me than anything else on this great Earth. It became my duty and obligation, my one true passion to foster and protect it, even at the cost of my own life."

He was ordinary, she was exceptional, and yet she had him convinced that he was somehow worthy of her.

Chris kissed her lips with intent. He couldn't help himself. And then he tossed the blanket over his back and slipped beneath it, and between her legs. His mouth began its quest downward. He couldn't wait. Her newly exposed flesh, it was a full-sensory calling, an appeal to senses he didn't even know he had. Now that he was aware of them, he'd never be the same.

Soon, though, he became aware that Cassie wasn't as impassioned as he was. Her breathing was unsteady—a good sign—but her body was like a tight metal spring, tense and vibrating, like someone had plucked it. 

As if she had "heard" his doubt, she took in a deep breath to speak: "I've never done this before. I thought you should know."

She didn't need to tell him that. Once he had the privilege to explore beneath her clothing, he knew by the way she carried herself that she was most likely still "pure." And he wasn't going to lie to himself. That was a huge relief and the sort of gift he had never, in previous relationships, received.

"I'm ready, though," she continued. "I want to be ready. But I'm nervous. You can tell, can't you?"

Chris muffled a laugh between her breasts and then peeled her hands out of fists.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Chris popped his head out from beneath the blanket. He needed to look into her eyes. "There's no hurry. If you want to wait, we'll wait."

"I want to make you happy."

"You don't think it'll make you happy?"

"I was under the impression it will. . ."

"Hurt?"

"Yes, but that's not my greatest concern. I'm no stranger to pain. I fear that if I'm abnormal in . . . that way, or if I'm not what you'd expect. I'm not human and may not resemble, act, or respond as one. Or if I'm incapable of. . ." She lifted her head and peered between their chests as if she could somehow validate her fears with a glance in the dark. Then she set her head back down with a slight bonk and looked to the stars over his shoulder, as if they held the answers she lacked. "And if I'm not able to satisfy you or give you a future. . . ?

"Cassie, look at me." He captured her gaze. "We'll figure all that out, one step at a time. But for now, for tonight, I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. Do what feels natural. You make the calls. And don't worry about me. I'm thrilled to be with you no matter what."

She gulped and nodded. "Kiss me," she told him.

He obeyed, then pulled away. "Let me know if and when you want me to stop." 

"Never," she replied as Chris moved his way back beneath the blanket, coaxing away some of her stress by giving his love to every sweet taste of breast, leaving no peak or angle of flesh unexplored.

With her back arching, his hands able to slip underneath her shoulder blades, her breathing heavy once again, her body seemed to be demanding more from him.

He moved on to her stomach, sliding his hands to her lower back. Her legs were bent and rigid, her stomach taut, but with each kiss and caress closer to her center, her foundation wasn't nearly as stable. What was beneath him, however, was about as firm as a steel rod and painfully obtrusive on the not-exactly-a-bed they had made. But this wasn't about him or "it." He had to rid Cassie of her insecurities first. Her femininity was beautiful, sexy, the way the fairy gods intended, and perfectly capable of arousing them both and fulfilling its function. He didn't really have any question.

Chris shifted himself low and lower. When his mouth connected to hot flesh, she received it with an immediate buckle and a grasp for stability, both fingers and toes on the blanket, like she wasn't expecting him there or at all prepared for the sudden jolt of pleasure.

She really was a virgin in the true sense of the word. And for him at his age and in his life situation, stimulating her in the nighttime forest, a crystal-clear still-lake view, like a mirror of the infinitely starry sky, and the crisp Canadian summer-air nipping at his neck and toes . . . it was like acting out a fantasy no other man was lucky enough to experience. She couldn't quite predict what was coming and he was going to be the one to show, to give, to share it with her for the very first time.

Do you want me to stop? he checked, just to be sure, and he was curious to know if she really could "hear" him.

"No, don't," she replied, both firm and breathless.

That answered both questions. So he carried on and when she hit that frustrating but heavenly plateau before the summit—every muscle taut, waiting, demanding liberation—he gave her just enough agitation to keep her there until he couldn't stand it anymore. He grasped onto her hips, and had her spiraling over the edge, and flying to a place like heaven. Or so he hoped. 

When, finally, her trembling subsided, Chris kissed his way back up to the surface and was greeted with a smile and a hand on his cheek. Her lips migrated to his opposite earlobe. "I want you to have me completely, as if I were your wife."

He pulled his head away so he could see directly into her eyes. "You will be. Soon, I hope. But do you think . . . are you. . ."

Ready?

Her hand migrated below and conducted the first-ever touch of the part of him in question. "Do I have to say more than please?"

She stroked her grip over and around him, exploring the expanse, the subtle curves, cleft, and the sensitive peak, tentative but curious, as he shuddered out a headshake.

It was his turn to be rigid and unsteady. But he shifted into a suitable, first-time position, his knees and arms about to buckle, and pressed himself against her, his hand there to help guide him in.

Hopeful, exhilarated, worried, he met resistance, a lot, too much. He retreated, changed angles, again and again, and again. Finally, there was progress.

"Deep breath," he instructed, and she took in a huge gasp of air.

He seized the opportunity to press a little harder. There was an immediate and glorious breakthrough. He watched her eyes open wider, her gasps hitching but growing, and deepening, as he filled her toward completion.

When he plunged against her innermost limit, a womb that seemed to be calling his future children out by name, he withdrew from the first success. Felt her exhale. And as her eyes drifted closed, he blocked his own vision as well, as if that would somehow help him channel some control and restraint. He could still feel her touch, though. Her fingertips were avoiding his bandaged area, but they were grazing his shoulders and backside while her lips were wandering over his neck and chest.

And on the inside, there was no need to overwork himself. Each passage through had the effect of ten or more. It was hard to believe he wasn't hurting her. But as he was nearing the inevitable, she was bearing down on him. Based on all the signs, she was gearing up for a climax as well. Another one. It wasn't likely, he assumed. But then, being one with her—she was in his head or he was in hers—and because he was inside her body, sensing the volatility that comes before an explosion, he knew there'd be another coming if only he could hold out a little bit. . .

She burst beneath him and he released what felt like a lifetime of angst only moments later. And with it came a whole-body tremor and an irrepressible groan that surely carried into the early morning darkness. The aftershocks, too, were incredibly powerful, like something capable of cracking the rock beneath them.

If any of their traveling companions had any doubt about what Cassie and Chris had snuck away to do, he had just cleared that up for them, even in his fairy voice, and even if they were dead asleep. Once he floated to a steady, giddy high, the thought made him chuckle rather than care.

And soon Cassie was giggling with him. "I suppose I had nothing to worry about."

"No, not at all. It's hard to find more 'happy' than that. I hope you agree." He removed himself, his damp skin extra sensitive to the chill sneaking between them, and he resituated himself and the blanket. "Come here."

As she settled beside him, her back to his front, he pulled her flush against him. Her naked skin was now as soothing as it was stimulating. He couldn't get enough. Every touch—his hands free to adore her legs, stomach, and two of the most delectable breasts ever created—was mixing desire, with infatuation, with a spiritual sense of calm.

Soon, though, sadness crept up on him. Because it was hers, it was also his. Chris could feel the tremble of a sob building in her and hear the rattle of water about to escape. So he took her, squeezed, held her tight. If she was going to break, he didn't want it to be in his arms. "Is it something I said or did?"

"Yes and no," she replied, turning her cheek toward his lips. "I never thought it'd be possible to love you more, but I do, and it's that much more overwhelming." 

"You say things that bring tears to my eyes."

He borrowed a thumb and index finger from their embrace to wipe them away.

"Please, Chris, promise me. . ."

"Anything."

"That you won't ever leave me again. It would kill me."

He nuzzled his face in her hair and said in a whisper, "I love you. I promise."

And just like that, they rested, even though the sun was soon to rise, and another long and strenuous day was about to begin.

When the chirping birds and the mellow morning rays of sun made it clear they could no longer delay, Chris and Cassie returned to their temporary camp in the tree. Hand in hand, they did little to hide their afterglow.

They were looked upon by four knowing adult faces, crossed with varying degrees of amusement, shock, disappointment, or annoyance, depending on the look giver.

Chris was more concerned about Cassie's reaction to them. Did she cower under their scrutiny?

No. Quite the opposite, actually. She carried herself with confidence and dignity, like their princess and leader. Her personal life was not their concern or open to discussion. Orion may have been an older brother-like figure to Cassie at one point, and for that Chris was appreciative, but his "protector" days were over. The position was taken. And if Orion secretly loved her, he'd keep it to himself if he knew what was good for him.

Soon all eyes returned to their daily activities in a way that suggested they'd never question her or the sleeping arrangements ever again.

And that was fine by Chris.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Brandi Carlile. Heaven.

~

"Now nothing can take you away from me

We've been down that road before

But that's over now

You keep me coming back for more"

https://youtu.be/IpQxNDOowhI