7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

" H ow do you want me?" Verner asked, standing next to the bed and patiently waiting for my instruction.

"Naked, to start with. Drop your shadows," I ordered breathily, coming to stand in front of him. Despite the fact that I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze, I felt entirely in control of how this would go.

Wordlessly, Verner let his shadows fall away, though the view I had of his body was still hazy somehow. Dark gray skin and defined muscle, a deep V that led down to a vaguely human-shaped cock. It was sexy, but something niggled at me. It didn't seem quite right.

"Lie on the bed." Verner immediately complied, and my clit throbbed in response. He was so much bigger than me. Stronger in every way that it was possible to be stronger.

And he was willingly, desperately, enthusiastically at my mercy.

The power went straight to my head. And my pussy.

"Slide your hands underneath you."

Verner groaned, but did as I asked, sliding his hands under his back, his cock sticking proudly in the air, beckoning me home. "I want to touch you, Meera."

"Later."

His cock twitched, and I took my time climbing up on the bed, kneeling next to his thigh to admire him. Why couldn't I see him better? Maybe I needed glasses.

"Are you going to let me ride this?" I asked, in a sultry, confident voice I didn't recognize, lightly dragging my fingertips over his thick, hard cock.

"I'm going to let you do whatever you want with it. It's yours."

"Good answer," I murmured, wrapping my fingers around the base of his shaft and giving it a hard squeeze. Verner bucked into my hand instantly, and I tutted disapprovingly. "Stay still. You'll take what I give you until I tell you otherwise. Understood?"

I woke up with gasp so violently loud, I was sure that Tallulah could hear it next door through the stone wall.

What was that?

That dream had been… I shivered slightly, rolling to my side and pressing my legs together, the movement highlighting how wet my panties were.

Oh my god, I'd had a sex dream about Verner. Not even one that I could plausibly dismiss in my own head as a well-it-could-have-been-anyone dream. It was very explicitly Verner, and I'd very explicitly been bossing him around while he willingly followed orders.

How was I ever going to look him in the eye again?!

He was so attentive too, it wasn't like he wouldn't notice. He'd be all "Meera, what's wrong?" and I couldn't exactly say, "Oh, just remembering how I played with your dick like it was my own personal sex toy in my dreams last night."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Should I avoid him? No, I couldn't do that. I didn't think I'd be able to stay away from Verner if I tried, for one. But he also had a sensitive spirit, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings by avoiding him—he hadn't done anything wrong.

It was just a dream. There was no need to get weird about it. My subconscious had probably put Verner in the starring role because I was cursed with an attraction to penises, and he was the only penis-possessor that I'd trusted in… well, since I'd lost trust in everyone.

But that didn't mean it had to make things awkward between us. In fact, I was determined that it wouldn't. Verner's friendship meant everything to me—he was kind, patient, understanding, and seemed to genuinely enjoy my company, though I couldn't imagine why.

Honestly, was it any wonder I'd had a dirty dream about him? Verner was perfect. If I could… no, it didn't bear thinking about. I was in no condition to be anyone's partner.

"Meera?" Tallulah called, tapping softly on the door, making me startle. "Are you awake? I was going to head over for breakfast soon if you wanted to come?"

"Give me five minutes?" I asked, scrambling out of bed and yanking on my robe so I could head down to the baths below the house to wash up.

I was so wet that I spared a few seconds to check between my legs, worried I'd gotten my period over night. Nope. Just hyperaroused.

Cool. Great. Wonderful.

"Of course," Tallulah replied, her voice fading away. "I'll meet you downstairs in a bit."

"It's just a normal day," I muttered to myself sternly, grabbing some clothes to chuck on once I was clean and didn't reek of horny dreams. "You're going to have a normal day and do normal things and act so convincingly like a normal person that everyone is going to believe you."

"So," Verner began, laying on his back with his hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the sky. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I nearly dropped the awkwardly long loppers I was using to hack away at a vine. "Talk about what?"

"Something is bothering you today, Meera," he replied patiently, still staring up at the sky. The food he'd brought us for lunch was sitting in bowls next to him, but he'd insisted he'd wait until I was done mutilating this garden bed rather than eat without me.

"How do you know that? Is it a scent thing?"

It couldn't be an arousal thing. I'd been very intentionally not thinking about that dream. And I'd chosen the most obnoxiously difficult garden bed to clear today that was still near enough to the border for Verner to hang out with me.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I only catch vague hints of your scent out in the open like this, surrounded by perfumed flowers. It's the sort of… stomping that gives it away. And the more aggressive breathing. You usually breathe so calmly."

I struggled not to laugh at that. Here I was thinking I'd been playing it cool when I was actually stomping around, heavy breathing all over the place.

Perhaps I wasn't as smooth as I thought I was. Or perhaps Verner was just more attentive than I was accustomed to—definitely no one in my human-realm life ever noticed what mood I was in.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit?" Verner suggested. "It's a very pleasant day for sky watching."

My arms and shoulders were burning slightly from holding up the loppers, which definitely made the idea of staring up at the shadow realm's dark gray sky more tempting. But lying down next to Verner was potentially inadvisable, considering the incredibly inappropriate things I'd done to him in my sleep.

He'd been lying down then, too.

Stop it, Meera.

You're an adult. You can handle this. It doesn't have to be weird.

I set the loppers down on the low wall of the garden bed and crossed the invisible line to lie down next to Verner on the warm flagstones.

It was a pleasant day for sky watching, I thought, observing the swirling motion happening overhead. Not that I had any frame of reference—I couldn't remember the last time I'd just laid back and watched the world go by. Probably not since I was a kid, and even then, memories of relaxing were few and far between.

Verner turned his head, pinning me with the full force of that golden-yellow gaze. Although his expressions didn't give away what he was feeling as clearly as my breathing patterns apparently did, there was still something in it that had me wondering what was going through his head.

"What?"

"I didn't expect you to lie next to me." He watched me for a long moment. "I'm glad you did."

I felt my face heat up as I struggled to come up with a justification he hadn't asked for. It was odd for me to lie down right next to him when there were so many other spots available. Usually, I kept a little more distance between us. Though, whenever we sat by the river, we always leaned against the same tree. Sometimes our arms even touched.

"I get a little weird about physical closeness," I said eventually. "Not just with you—with everyone. It takes me awhile to warm up to people. Tallulah definitely picked up on it, but I'm not sure Verity noticed. She's a very touchy-feely person. It's more affection than I'm accustomed to, but it's also been kind of nice. She hasn't really given me a chance to overthink it."

"I hope you never feel any pressure with me, Meera. I noticed that you prefer having your own space and I'm very conscious of not encroaching on it, but you're always welcome in mine."

Deep breaths, deep breaths . He's just saying it's okay if I want to sit next to him. He's not saying…

"How do you want me?"

I wasn't even going to go there.

"Have I upset you?" Verner asked, turning to face me, his nose twitching slightly.

Oh good, my body had opted for panic smells instead of horny ones. That was easier to explain.

"No, not at all. I just didn't realize my hang-ups were so obvious, that's all."

Verner frowned. "Not at all. You're exceedingly mysterious, according to most Shades I've spoken with. If not a little… well, somber."

I snorted, having heard the things Shades said about me. Our hearing wasn't as acute as theirs, but a few of them definitely didn't realize that we could still pick up whispering.

"I don't think somber is the word most of them use," I said wryly. They called me things like glum , and sad , and dull . In my human life, I'd have probably appreciated being talked about in those terms—it meant I wasn't drawing attention to myself, and that was exactly what I wanted.

And I didn't really want attention here either, yet the descriptors still stung. Maybe I just wanted to be different from the Meera I'd always been in the past, and I was squandering the opportunity.

"Courtiers can be very tactless." Verner's voice was sharper than it had ever been, the disapproval in it clear.

"A little. But they're not necessarily wrong. I haven't given them much to work with—I'm more charming around you than I am around anyone else," I teased, though I wasn't really teasing. Even around the other ex-Hunters, I wasn't quite as open and chatty as I was with Verner.

"Why is that do you think?" he asked, sounding so genuinely curious that I couldn't deflect.

I hummed thoughtfully, wondering how much to say. I'd already told him more than I'd told anyone, but Verner had an aura of calmness about him that I seemed to draw on instinctively. That made the idea of telling him more and more and more about myself, even the parts I usually tried to hide away, to be not a wholly unappealing prospect.

If I wasn't fundamentally broken and incapable of having a relationship, Verner would have been my first choice. My only choice.

But I liked him too much to inflict myself on him.

"I love the other ex-Hunters, you know. All of them. They're so kind, and they understand me to a certain extent, but… well, only to a certain extent." I flailed slightly, trying to think of a way to convey what I meant in terms that would make sense to Verner. "The others… it's not like they grew up in the equivalent of palace life or anything, but they were definitely from a different kind of Hunter family than I'm from. The only one who can really relate on that front is Verity."

We were both from working-class immigrant families, though she'd lost both her parents young while I'd only lost one. We processed our experiences very differently, though.

Verity took nothing seriously, which meant nothing ever mattered enough to hurt her. I took everything too seriously, and held it all at arm's length so it never had a chance to.

"I understand that concept," Verner said slowly. "As you may have noticed, the shadow realm is far from perfect in that respect. I regularly see it with our lieutenant, Selene. She doesn't have the highborn background the Shades in her position traditionally require. She didn't grow up the way most of us grew up."

"Right—it's similar to that. We've all been banished for various reasons, but some of those banishments were crueller than others."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's not a very cheerful story."

His shadows flickered, though I wasn't entirely sure what the movement meant. "Yes, I gathered that."

The dryness of his tone had me suppressing another rogue smile. What would it be like to have that gift? To just bring people joy with your presence? Even as a kid, I'd been "quiet" and "serious" and "wise beyond my years." I'd never made people laugh.

"My father died right after my sister was born. I was five. He had a heart attack—one day, he was there, the next, he was gone. My father's family blamed my mother—I don't remember any of this, but she always told us how awful they were. Her brother was living in the US with his family and insisted we move over from Jaipur and join them."

"And you did?"

I nodded, though he wasn't looking at me. "He helped with money and stuff. We lived with him for a while, until my mom finished her training and was working as a dental assistant, though she was always having to give money to her brother to pay him back for helping us get over there. At that point, I was seven years old and fully responsible for my younger sister, Latika."

"That's very young," Verner murmured.

"It was. Too young. I potty trained Latika. Taught her to ride a bike. To tie her shoes. Made her dinner every night. Helped her with her homework. It was a lot."

We were both quiet for a long moment. I suspected that Verner hadn't understood half of what I'd said, but he was politely listening anyway.

"We were inducted into the local Hunters group when we moved," I said guiltily. "They helped with our visas and stuff. They taught us English, taught us how to act, and what clothes to wear. My uncle was already a member, of course. Obviously, I feel a lot of guilt about that part of my life now, but as a kid, that was my main support network. I just wanted to fit in with the kids in my class, I listened to everything they told me without question."

"Of course," Verner agreed readily. "No child is responsible for participating in that organization—that was a choice made for them. Leaving, though, breaking away from all you've known, that is the difficult part. That is what takes bravery."

I grimaced at the sky. "I wish I could tell you that I was brave, but I was kicked out. It was life-ruining at the time—I was shunned by everyone I knew, kicked out of my home, and cut off from my sister. Now, I look at it as a blessing, for the most part. Leaving would have always been the right choice, but would I have been brave enough to make it if it hadn't been decided for me? I'm not so sure."

Verner hummed. "I suspect you're much braver than you're giving yourself credit for. You found a way to survive when the Hunters turned their back on you. And you came here—that was no small feat."

That was true. Those first twelve months after leaving were a blur in my memory—I'd been operating purely in survival mode. That I'd built a life for myself—though it hadn't been a very glamorous one—was my greatest accomplishment.

"There was a man. A Hunter," I began slowly, scarcely believing that I was saying the words out loud. I'd never said them to anyone before. If I had my way, I'd never have to speak them out loud again, but I was willing to move out of my comfort zone for Verner. "He was old enough to be my father. That's how I saw him—a mentor of sorts, an adult that I could talk to. He wasn't on the Council, but he was close to it. He was an authority figure. My mom was always tired from work, and my uncle didn't like to be bothered. We weren't good for my uncle's reputation, I think."

Verner was as still as a statue next to me. I had the odd notion of wanting to move closer, to press our arms together, but I quickly dismissed it.

"The man… The Hunter man"—I couldn't bring myself to say his name—"insisted that I not tell anyone about our friendship. In hindsight, I can obviously see how suspicious that sounds, but I was seventeen." I smiled wryly at my own stupidity. "I think the lie I told myself was that it would upset his kids. That they might feel jealous that their dad cared about me too. We were in the same training group."

"What happened, Meera?"

It was faint, but I picked up the barest hint of a shake in Verner's voice. His shadows rippled again, the movement far sharper and less fluid than usual.

"Are you angry?"

"Not at you," he gritted out. I nodded, though I wasn't sure if he saw it.

"I started dating a guy. A Hunter my own age. I'd never had a boyfriend before. The man… well, he didn't like it. For weeks, he tried to convince me to end it. I thought he was just looking out for me. An overprotective dad, or whatever."

I'd been feeling mostly neutral until that point, retelling events almost as though they'd happened to someone else. But the embarrassment started to creep in now.

"What is that emotion?" Verner asked, inhaling deeply. That wasn't helping matters.

"Shame."

He made a sound of displeasure. "You should never feel shame, Meera. You didn't do anything wrong."

There was an odd, fizzing sensation in my stomach. It wasn't a feeling I recognized. It might have been relief? No one had ever told me it wasn't my fault before. My mother had explicitly said the opposite.

"That's better," Verner sighed, though I didn't know what I'd done. "Though I suspect it's short-lived, based on how this story is going."

"Probably," I agreed, rushing the next part because it was humiliating. "I suppose the crux of the issue is that this man was jealous that I, um, slept with my boyfriend."

Why was that so hard to say out loud? If only I was a little more like Verity. She wouldn't blush the color of beetroot just because she'd alluded to having sex one time.

"The man kept pushing and pushing until I admitted to it—I didn't want to tell him, obviously. He was like my dad . When I finally did tell him, he flew into a rage. Said I'd had no right. That I'd ruined myself by giving away something that I could never get back." I swallowed thickly. "Something I should have been saving for him."

I'd never talked about this. It was the kind of thing I'd intended to bring up in therapy if I ever got a job where my insurance covered it.

"Anyway, he yelled, and then he grabbed my blouse when I tried to leave, tearing it half off me. It was at Council Headquarters, and at that point, one of the staff walked in on us. He immediately lied and said I'd been coming on to him, that I'd been trying to seduce him for months, that I wanted nothing more than to destroy his marriage… I can't remember all the details, but there was a lot. I was reported to the Council for misconduct and kicked out without anyone ever speaking to me directly or asking for my version of events. My mother was mortified and promptly kicked me out of the house. She told everyone she only had one daughter after that if the rumors are accurate. I'm sure they are."

"That is awful ," Verner said, his low voice shaking with rage. "Please tell me that anyone involved ever faced some kind of justice."

"No. He's still close to the Council, as far as I know. My mother was promoted for disowning me so promptly. My then-boyfriend ended things, afraid of reprisal. He believed me, at least. He gave me his last two hundred dollars to help me get out of town."

"Coward," Verner muttered.

I laughed silently. "Yes, well, we can't all have your integrity, though both of our worlds would be better if we did."

There was far more to the story than that—the financial implications had been far-reaching, and I'd still been paying for my mistakes in a very literal sense right up until I'd come to the shadow realm. But I wasn't sure I had it in me to delve into all of that right now, and I wasn't sure Verner would really get it even if I did. They didn't have social security numbers in the shadow realm.

We were both quiet for a long while, staring up at the sky. I could smell the food that Verner had brought us for lunch, but I doubted I'd be able to eat anything now after that conversation.

"Got any traumatic stories you want to share?" I teased, nudging his arm with my elbow and giving him what I hoped was a bright smile.

He frowned slightly. "Not really, and now I'm a little disappointed about it. I want to be vulnerable with you too."

My heart melted into a puddle. "I'm glad you don't, Verner. Very glad. You're kind and wonderful, and not jaded like me."

"You're not jaded, Meera. You're wary. Cautious. Those instincts probably served you well when you were left to fend for yourself at such a young age."

I nodded, my throat tight. He was probably right about that, but I wasn't sure they were serving me well now. I wanted to build real and meaningful connections with people, and I couldn't do that if my initial instinct was always to turn inward and bury every hint of feeling I had in an ironclad cage.

"Thank you for sharing all of that with me, Meera. I imagine it wasn't easy for you to talk about. And, of course, that conversation stays between us."

"Thank you," I rasped. I'd already been debating how to ask him not to tell anyone else what I'd said, and he'd already thought of it.

Truly, if I could pick anyone and give them the kind of love that they deserved, it would be Verner. He was perfect in every single way.

And I had nothing to offer.