Aden

When I step into my room at the Bone Bed & Breakfast, I barely have a leash on my need. If I had a dick, it would be bulging against my jeans right now, begging for a release. I haven't gotten off, even with my own hand, in longer than I care to admit. Between the battle that went on at the flanks of the volcano last week, and then finding out I have to bring Sovereign Clavicle back to fix everything Mother Terra threatened to destroy, I haven't exactly been relaxed enough to shake one out, and Tarsus and I haven't really been on cuddle terms since I insisted on bringing his step-brother-turned-lover-turned-enemy home.

"Fireball?" I ask Clav, crossing the room to my backpack.

"Fuck yeah."

I toss him one, then open my own and down it in a few gulps. The burn makes me wince.

"I'm tested regularly," he says, tossing his own empty bottle aside.

"Me too."

I'm so horny right now. I've legit gone way too long without sex, and my body is craving it. Clav is standing across the room all nerdy and adorable while he fidgets on his feet, his pink hair ruffled from the autumn wind and that sexy ass shirt unbuttoned low on his chest beneath that pressed vest. There is nothing about him that screams "villainous fae overlord". Tarsus would tell me it's a part of his act, to look as innocent as he does now. If that's the case, he deserves a fucking Academy Award.

"I don't usually do one-night-stands," I say.

His teeth scrape along his lower lip, and I can't help but imagine what those lips would look like on my strap-on cock.

"Me neither," he says, his voice hoarse. Considering we just spent the entire afternoon together, he seems nervous, which makes me want him all the more. He's not the cocky alpha-hole I expected to find. He's not cold and belittling, either. He's nothing like what I expected at all.

I slowly walk across the room toward where he leans against the closed door, stopping when I'm inches before him. He's a few inches taller than me, but not much more than that. Pressing his shoulders back against the door, I lean up to kiss him. His eyes fall closed, and he leans forward slightly, but I pull back. His eyes open and he glares at me through narrowed slits.

"You are such a cocktease, you know that?"

"Just want you to know who's in control." Then I lean forward and press my lips against his. It's a short kiss. Sweet. A taste. A taste. He tastes like—

"Is that cotton candy bubblegum?" I ask against his lips.

He tenses. "Mm-hm."

Fuck. My stomach drops ten stories because holy shit he's adorable. "You're so gay."

"Fuck yeah."

I can't stop the smile from growing on my face as I lean up and kiss him again. Slowly, at first, then I work my tongue past the seam of his lips and taste him. This feels far too intimate for a one-night stand. I feel like I've known him forever.

"Do you…want this?" I ask against his lips, my voice huskier than I anticipated. My fingers dig into his shoulders, and I have to remember to keep my grip gentle. But holy shit, I want him so badly right now.

"Yes." He stares down at me with serious gray eyes, his hands by his side. "Truly." He kisses one cheek. "Madly." He kisses the other cheek. "Deeply." His hands find my hips now, gently holding me there as his mouth finds mine, our tongues gently caressing each other as we explore one another, and my body ignites.

But as we kiss, his words ring a bell inside my mind, and I pull away momentarily, studying him closely. "Didn't know you were into Savage Garden." The band isn't exactly our generation. When I met Tarsus, I let them my phone and they scoured my Spotify, listening to every goddamn song in existence. The music that they fell in love with? Savage Garden. They still listen to every album on repeat.

So, what are the odds that this human before me, who used to be Tarsus' lover, knows the words to one of Savage Garden's song by heart? Coincidence? I don't know. But trepidation tiptoes down my spine all the same.

"You sure you don't remember Tarsus?"

Throwing his head back, he groans. "Why must you ruin a perfect moment by bringing up that prick?" He lowers his chin, irritation flaring in his eyes. "I swear, I've never seen them in my life."

"I'm sorry." My chest tightens with regret for bringing Tarsus up. "Come here." I pull his head down until our mouths meet again, desperate for that fire we shared moments ago. It doesn't take long to get back in the mood. His kisses are slow and tender and deep. Without making the decision to do so, my hips roll into his, looking for that coveted friction I desperately need, and he moans against my lips. That must be both our undoing because things start moving fast from there.

He grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head before crashing his mouth against mine again. If he notices my twin scars, attesting to my top surgery, he says nothing about it. Props to him. My fingers are fumbling with his belt, but I finally manage to unbuckle it and tug his jeans down. He kicks his jeans the rest of the way off, and now he's standing before me in his rumpled button-down shirt and pressed vest with no pants on, and he's giving major hot-frat-boy-as-business-man.

I kiss him again.

"Anything else I should know?" I say between kissing, "Before I fuck you brainless?"

As if he would admit to being the king of the Spine Empire. Yeah, you should probably know I'm a king who sacrifices humans like you to the goddess every full moon. Hope you're okay with that.

He combs his long fingers into my shaggy hair. "Well." Kiss. "I'm a pretty chill dude." Kiss. He pulls away and studies me closely, his breath now smelling of cinnamon from the fireball. The way he's looking at me, like there's something on his mind, makes my heart hammer in my chest.

"What?" I breathe. The knot in his throat bobs with a hard swallow, and he drops his hands from my hair.

"There is one other thing," he says in a husky voice.

Fuck. My muscles begin to tighten as I brace myself for the reality of what he really is. Will this be the moment he tells me the truth, then drives his dagger through my heart? He drags his fingers through his pink hair.

"I…Um…" he stares at me, as though unsure of how to confess whatever is on his mind. "I've never done it…with a trans man."

Are you for fucking real? A laugh bubbles out of me, because out of everything he could have said, that's the least of my worries. His countenance lightens, but he searches my eyes as if to make sure he didn't offend me. So. Fucking. Sweet.

"That's fine," I step closer and cup his length, which is bulging against his briefs. His eyes flutter shut, the soft groan escaping him making my insides shudder. "Just let me take the lead and remember that communication is everything."

His shoulders sag in obvious relief and he nods. "That sounds perfect. What about you? Anything I should know?"

Here it goes. What I'm about to say will totally give me away, but he at least deserves the truth about me before we fuck. I have to know that he's really changed before we become this intimate. I need to know that he's okay with all of me.

"Besides dating a chaotically moody fae," I say breathlessly, "I'm also sort of dating a vampire and a sorcerer."

He jerks his head back and stares into my eyes. "What the fuck, ?" A hollow laugh escapes him.

"Is that…a deal breaker?" I ask, gauging his reaction. I wait for him to pull out his famous obsidian dagger and drive it through my heart. Instead, to my astonishment, he bursts out laughing. A hearty laugh that's filled with so much pure joy that it legit makes everything feel right in the world. And I'm not sure how one of his smiles, how one laugh from him could have the power to put me at complete ease, but here we are.

"Holy shit, ," he says, arching his brows. "You're a fucking delight."

I'm starting to think he truly doesn't even remember his past. I'm starting to think that maybe he's not taking me seriously when I tell him about vampires and sorcerers.

"You've got a kink, huh?" he says with a grin. "Do I need to become a cosplayer too, to turn you on?"

Nope. He definitely does not remember at thing. I almost open my mouth to tell him everything, but when he slides his fingers over my cheeks and presses his lips to mine again, his tongue slowly exploring my own, I can't really get myself to confess.

I have kissed a lot of people—male, female, nonbinary, trans, vampire, werewolf, witch, fae—but I can't say any of them kiss quite as well as Clav does. He's in no hurry to get us undressed as he takes his time cupping my cheeks and getting to know my mouth. His hand slides down to my throat, his fingers adding just enough pressure to make me moan. It's kind of thrilling knowing he could confess he's the Prince of Ruin and then choke me, but I've always gotten turned on from playing with fire. I guess I kind of do have a kink. A monster kink.

He pulls away momentarily and studies my eyes, as if committing them to memory, then he leans in again, this time pressing his lips to my jaw, my throat, my—

"Clavicle." His name slips from my lips in a soft whisper as warmth spills over my body from his sweet and tender caresses.

"Hmm?" He hums against the place where my neck meets my shoulder.

"You have to know that I came for you."

"Mmm. Yeah. You will cum for me, won't you baby?" Running his long fingers along my throat, he chuckles into my neck in a way that makes my skin come alive. "I'll make you cum so hard."

How am I supposed to fucking tell him the truth when he makes every thought evaporate from my mind with just a graze of his knuckles on my skin? He trails his fingers down my chest, over my stomach, and lower until he finds my cock that I'm packing.

"Yeah. There it is." His eyes flare as he rubs my cock. "Show me what you want me to do, ."

Gods, even my name on his lips makes my skin buzz with excitement. Is this the power Tarsus spoke of? They often talked about the way Clavicle's tenderness with those he loved made it easy for them to forget the monster he is. It was hard for Tarsus to let him go, because no one else came close to making Tarsus feel the way the Spine Sovereign made them feel. I think I get it now.

Later. I'll tell him later. For now….

Stepping back from him, I cross the room to my bag and dig around until I find the strap-on and dildo. The dildo is peach and veiny, something I would hope my dick would look like eventually, although the size might be a bit exaggerated. With my back turned to him, I kick off my pants and underwear, slip off my limp dick and replace it with the dildo, then tighten the straps around my hips. While I've had top surgery and am six months on T, I haven't even considered getting reconstruction surgery down there. I guess there's some part of me that wants to keep my female reproductive organs so I could…potentially bear children. I follow enough seahorse dads on Instagram to know that's something I want. Someday.

When the dildo looks like it's attached to my body, I turn toward Clav.

The way his eyes roam over me, not like I'm a strange experiment he's afraid of touching or a kink he can't wait to fuck, but as a man he can't wait to devour, makes my blood run hot through my veins, straight to my core.

"Come here," I order. I love being in the lead. I love issuing commands and having people obey me. The look of pleasant surprise flashing across his features is nothing new. I'm sweet, soft-spoken, too kind for my own good. But when it comes to sex, my high drive and barbaric need sends the Sweet, Sweet everyone thinks they know running.

"On your knees," I say when Clav is standing before me. The admiration I find in his gray eyes as he kneels and tilts his chin to look up at me makes me so fucking horny for him.

"Good boy." I grip both the silver antlers of his crown, surprised at how snug and fitted the headdress is on his brow. Thrusting my hips forward, I gently nudge his chin with my dick. "Now suck it."

His eyes don't leave mine as he opens his mouth, taking the dildo in. I slowly ease my cock into his mouth, seeing how much he can take. It's a large dildo, definitely not what my dick will actually look like once I grow one, but go big or go home, amirite? He somehow manages to take the whole thing to the back of his throat before pulling out and taking it back in again.

Closing his eyes, he grips my hips with his hands, his fingers digging into my skin as he bobs on my cock. A deep moan escapes me as I brace myself with his antlers. Even though I obviously can't feel his mouth around my cock, the act of his submission, the way he worships me, his loyalty, has me so wet that I'm almost ready to come.

"Touch yourself," I order.

His mouth still on my cock, he dips his hand into his briefs and pulls out his angry red cock. Whew, now that is a cock to be proud of. Holy shit. Precum glistens at the end as he begins pumping it to the rhythm that he pumps his mouth on my dick. This is so hot. I must be gripping his antler crown too tight, because the crown slips off his head. Whoops. I toss it aside, threading my fingers through his pink hair instead.

Bracing his head with both hands, I thrust my cock in and out of his mouth, and he lets me take charge, holding still as I destroy his mouth with my cock. His hands brace the backs of my thighs as he takes me, slowly moving up until he cups my ass cheeks, his fingers dipping into my sex.

"Oh." I moan as a pleasurable sensation explodes through me and pick up my pace as I fuck his mouth. I'm so close. So. Fucking. Close. I thrust deeper, then hold my cock in his throat as I come undone. "F-fuuuuck." Releasing him, I pull out and stumble back, still reeling from my orgasm. "Holy fuck."

Before I can do anything else, though, he stands and hoists me up, pulling my legs around his narrow waist as he carries me to the bed. My muscles limp, I let him lay me down as he crawls on top of me, his glasses, button-down, and vest still on. I barely have time to catch my breath before he crashes his mouth against mine, kissing me like a man who's gone too long without food or water. This kiss is far more violent than the first one we shared. We're all teeth and lips and tongue while he's grinding his erection into my hips and I'm fumbling with the buttons of his vest. Straddling me, he sits up and removes his vest, then slowly unbuttons his shirt as he takes a moment to admire my body. Every button undone reveals another muscle, the way his pale skin is taut over his abs.

"God, so you're so beautiful, ." His gray eyes are glassy as he removes his shirt, the muscles of his abdomen flexing with the movement.

Leaning down, he kisses one of my chest scars, then the other, then trails his kisses down the plains of my abdomen until he reaches that tuft of hair at my sex. My face grows hot with humiliation. I may identify as a guy, and I might look like a guy, but down there, I'm what society calls a woman. And I hate it. It chased most gay men and straight women away until I gave up on dating.

Until I met Tarsus and entered a world where none of that mattered.

To my surprise, though, Clav nuzzles his nose into the fuzz, then slips out his tongue and slides it into my soaked pussy.

"Oh, shit." I suck in a sharp gasp as he caresses that sensitive area of my center. "Oh my gods, Clav."

"Your smell is enough to make my cock throb," he moans before slipping out his tongue and dragging it from my vagina up my slit the way one might clean peanut butter off a spoon. I squeeze the pillow beneath my head, grit my teeth as a moan escapes me. "You taste so fucking good, ." He stops at my clit and sucks, and a new set of sensations explodes through my body.

"F-fuck!" I whimper. "I'm going to cum again if you keep doing that."

"Not yet you're not." He pulls away from my sex. I smirk when he grabs a condom from his back pocket. He was hoping this would happen. My face warms, because I was too. He removes his briefs completely and rolls the rubber over his dick. "Where do you want it?" he asks. And the fact that he cares about my dysphoria at all speaks measures to his character.

I know a few trans men who don't like to have anything to do with their pussy when fucking, from the mere fact that it's a cruel reminder they were born with one. But me…I've always appreciated my own center and the way the dick hits my g-spot. I guess it's another reason I never had reconstruction surgery. I love my clit too much.

"Inside me," I whisper, my need almost blinding me. "Fuck me. I want…I want you to fuck me."

A smirk grows across his face as he crawls back over me. His glasses are steaming now while sweat beads on his forehead, and he removes his glasses and sets them on the nearby table. I wonder if he even needs them, or if it's just another thing to disguise his true nature. I briefly wonder once again if this is an act or if he's really forgotten everything, but when he positions himself between my thighs, when he cages my head between his arms and slowly sinks his cock deep into me, I don't really care.

A string of incoherent swears slips from my lips. He's not quite as big as Tarsus, being mortal and all, but he's certainly bigger than the average human. He buries his face into my neck and releases a shuddering moan, one that practically has me begging for a release. But I want to enjoy his cock for a bit, first.

He slowly sinks all the way in, then moves away slightly so he could watch my face closely, as if looking for signs that it might not be comfortable. Gods bless him. My cheeks are flushed, my lips parted as I pant, and I keep my eyes on his as he slowly pulls out and sinks back in. Again and again and again. It's the most basic position between people making love, but somehow with Clav, it feels forbidden and glorious and unlike anything I've ever experienced.

He's just so fucking pure and open and positive. How could this be the same ruthless prince who ordered human sacrifices every full moon? How could he be the same bastard who stabbed Tarsus in the back decades ago? He doesn't seem to be hiding anything. He's just…present. Here. With me.

My body is begging for a release, but I'm determined not to cum until he does. I wrap my hands around his back, dragging my nails over his skin the way I know makes Tarsus lose their control, and he pounds into me harder, faster, biting his lip hard as he claims me. I can't hold it in anymore.

Throwing my head back, I claw at his shoulders as a scream rips out of me. And that must be his final undoing. He unloads into me, filling me up with his cum, his cock jerking inside me, making my orgasm last another thirty seconds. He stays there, balls-deep inside me as he collapses on top of me. I gently stroke my fingers up and down his spine. After a full minute. He pulls out and flops onto his back next to me, removes the condom and tosses it into a nearby trash can.

"Holy fuck," I say hoarsely. "That…you're fucking amazing, Clav." I turn my head to look at him. Even now, with his cheeks flushed and his eyes glowing with his orgasm, he's phenomenal.

"I did not see that coming," he says.

"Yeah…I mean, I saw it coming after we left the faire. But before that…I never expected to fuck the—" My voice cuts off before I give myself away. The Spine King. The Prince of Ruin. "The…first person I met in this town," I correct.

His lips curve into a grin. Moving to his side, he slips one leg over mine and props himself on his elbow, the muscles in his arms flexing as he presses a kiss to my lips. "Welcome to Bone Hollow, love. We make all your wildest dreams come true."

I chuckle against his lips, then shove him off playfully. We lie there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow while our heart rates return to their normal rhythm. My mind begins to wander, and I think about what Clav said about his dad being a demon hunter. I'm starting to believe he really has no idea. His memories must have fled when he was cursed with mortality.

And I get to be the one who tells him the fae we read about are real, and that he happens to be a fae king. Chewing my lower lip, I barely contain my excitement.

"What if it was all true?" I ask, breaking the blissful silence.

"Huh?" His eyes are half-closed in a post-orgasmic glow.

"The talk about demons and fae."

His eyes fly open, and he drags his hands down the length of his face, the afterglow slipping away faster than a drop of water on a frying pan. Propping himself up on his elbow, he glares at me, as if forgetting the fucking we just shared, and I'm starting to rethink my approach.

", if you're a part of that prank, I'm going to tell you now, you'll only piss me off."

Fuck. I forgot he believed it was all a prank. The steel in his eyes makes my spine lock up. "I told you. I'm not in on the prank"

"Then what the fuck are your dear lover and that bastard Abaddon up to?"

My heart jolts. "How do you know Abaddon?"

His eyes widen a fraction, his breath hitches. He swallows audibly, then nods slowly, a realization seeming to dawn on his features.

"Okay. So, you are a part of it. I was hoping I was wrong."

Shit. This is not going at all how I planned.

He slips off the bed, stuffs his feet through his jeans and buckles them, and I definitely wish I'd kept my mouth shut. I sit up. I've already buried myself in this deep. And if Clav truly has no idea what I'm talking about or who he truly is, then he deserves to know. He needs to know if we have any hope of him saving us from his beloved goddess.

"What if it's not a prank?" I ask, treading carefully. "What if the…the demons are real? What if they're…what if they're actually faeries? Like the ones we read about?"

His gray eyes turn cold and hard when he whips his head around to glare at me. He looks like he could kill me now, the fury simmering beneath his eyes promising violence. So…maybe he does remember? And he's realizing I'm a spy. This is it. He knows, and he's going to fucking kill me now.

"The fact that you've been in on the prank this whole time," he seethes, hands balling into fists, "and I fucked you—"

"I'm not in on a prank, Clavicle—"

And at the sound of his old name dropping from my lips, he's on the bed in a heartbeat, pinning me down with his hips as he snatches my wrists in both hands and shoves them above my head.

"It's Clav." Here's that temper Tarsus warned me about. "And you better shut the fuck up, ." He forces a smile that's all teeth and scary as hell. "Or I'm going to have to seal those pretty little lips with my dick."

Honestly, that sounds fucking hot, but also I have a feeling he'd suffocate me with his dick, too, if he got the chance. If there was any doubt in my mind that his memory was wiped, it's gone now. Because the look in his eyes isn't human. The look in his eyes is lethal.

He fucking remembers, and he knows why I'm here.

"You do remember, don't you?" I whisper. I'm honestly surprised I'm still alive. Hot tears burn behind my eyes, but I blink them back. "You need to come back, Clavicle. Your home is in danger, your people are in danger, and only you can save them."

And those words seem to be the ultimate trigger.

"Shut. Up!" He gives me a hard shake that makes my teeth rattle, his fingers bruising my wrists.

"Clavicle—"

His other hand slaps over my mouth, sealing it shut. "Shut the fuck up!" Even in his human form he's strong, his grip on my wrists like steel shackles. "I don't want to hear another fucking word!" he roars through clenched teeth. The manic look in his eyes tells me he has absolutely no control over his rage, and he's probably actually going to kill me. "Leave me and my dad alone. I don't want to see any of you back at our house again, or I swear to god—"

I buck beneath him, try to wiggle free before he maybe decides to cut off my air supply completely, but he has me pinned to the bed, rage pouring off him like the lava seeping from the Heart of Faerie.

A new thunder fills the room, followed by the sound of storms and the gush of wind. My eyes fall closed, and I feel a tear escape down my temple. Thank the gods.

Clavicle whips his head around, mouth agape at the sight of the portal opening and Tarsus stepping out, their bone-white hair flailing around their antlers in every direction by the wind.

"Get. Off. My. Boyfriend." Tarsus squeezes the words through gritted teeth.

The coldness in their voice gives me chills, even though I know they're here to save me. As if realizing what he's done, Clavicle rolls off me. I scramble off the bed, my heart in my throat, and fall into Tarsus' arms, more tears springing to my eyes. They were right. Tarsus was fucking right about Clavicle the whole goddamn time.

Folding me into their arms, Tarsus glares at their step-brother with stony silver eyes. "I swore not to kill you as long as you remain in the human realms," they say.

"But if I see your face anywhere near again, Clavicle, you'll be dead before you can scream my name."

Their arms still around me, Tarsus guides me back into the portal, and I have never felt so relieved by the darkness swallowing me up into nothingness, promising to transport me home.