15. Yera

Chapter fifteen

Yera

H is kiss is all-consuming. Our lips intertwine perfectly, and we savor each other. Small, loving kisses and soft tongues. His hands only swirl gentle circles on my jaw, never moving from where they rest on my face, never going lower to move things along. It's just simple and perfect.

After a few moments, we part but are still close enough that our lips brush.

"I have a surprise for you today." He nudges my nose with his.

"Oh, really? What's that?"

"Our next campsite has a hot spring, if we pack up and make good time today."

A hot spring. I could actually get clean? Get my clothes clean? Soak my sore muscles?

"That is a better surprise than coffee." I peck his full mouth once more before I move his head off my lap and stand straight. "No time to mess around. Let's get this shit packed and get moving."

"Eager today, aren't we?"

He is still sitting on the sprawled blankets, shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair mussed, and looking perfectly disheveled and devilish.

The urge to sink back into the blankets with him, sit in his lap, and press his body against mine again is palpable. It takes all my willpower to look away, down my coffee, and start packing the camp.

He leads most of the day. The trail transforms into a tunnel-like path as the treetop canopy closes in. At least we have excellent cover if the harpies come back.

The river runs beside us, churning dangerously over boulders and fallen trees. It's rushing white water now, and I wonder if it calms down in the fall or winter. How picturesque would that be?

The bright red leaves of mountain ash trees standing out like a burning bush in the dark hollow of the forest. I wonder if the leaves change the same colors in the fall or if they turn purple or blue. If I end up stuck here, I'd like to see that.

"Hey, are there seasons here?"

Arrick stops on the trail and looks back at me. "Yes, we are in late summer now. That's why the berries are ripe. In a few weeks, the leaves will start changing."

The day grows late, and the sun crests over the trees and then sinks behind the mountains. What remains of the light dwindles as we approach the campsites .

In front of me is a slew of hot running water bounding between boulders and naturally formed pools. Steam is everywhere, heating the air and filling it with sulfur and magnesium.

Our trail cuts along the edge of the expansive spring and then splits. The river trail continues in one direction, while the other path leads to campsites between the hot water and river. Each site is exposed to the elements, the dusk sky quickly changing color overhead.

There are about five sites spaced generously apart, each with a rock fire ring. This resembles a campground in my world. I smile, envisioning a host of mythological creatures coming here with their families to camp for the weekend, something that seems so human.

The light in the sky fades further, giving way to brilliant pinks and oranges. We work in the fluorescent haze of the sinking sun, painting our skin and surroundings in the color of the sunset.

Brook trout caramelizes on a frying pan, and I roll out the bedding. We sit and watch the night swallow the last of the day as we eat white flakey fish. Our conversation is easy and playful.

We haven't spoken about what happened last night. Which is okay, I think. I've been notoriously impulsive when hooking up most of my adult life. Of me and my sisters, I've definitely had more one-night stands. They have never shamed me about it, and I'm grateful. I. That's just me; I like sex and am always safe, going into everything with an open mind.

After dinner, Arrick goes to his pack and pulls out a hide-colored linen shirt and some soap. "I thought we could wash our clothes and dry them overnight," he says, handing me the shirt and soap.

"Do you want me to wash your shirt?" I say, with a bit of venom.

He smiles back. "No, of course not. That is for you to wear while your clothes dry. "

Shit, of course, that's what he meant. "Sorry, I don't know why I assumed that."

"Maybe you assume because you know of someone who would make such requests."

Calm down. He's just making—frankly—an astute observation. I take the shirt and soap from him and shrug my thanks.

Then I realize I should take my clothes off, wash them, and bathe naked.

We touched last night, but he didn't see anything. I didn't see anything. The situation is becoming more intimate. Yikes, no tree cover or clouds and the moon casting bright silver light. It is so bright. In fact, I can see the forest floor clearly.

After my eyes fully adjust, I can see practically everything. I wonder if he also feels insecure about being naked in front of me.

Fuck it. What do I have to lose? If he sees my wide hips and round ass and decides he is no longer attracted to me, it is his loss. I'm not so far gone in my attraction to him that I can't shut it off if I need to. Another skill I have cultivated. My therapist calls it disassociation. I call it survival.

I walk over to where the water spills from a rock outcropping into a deep steaming pool. There is a stunted pine right next to the pool, and I hang the dry shirt Arrick loaned me on it. I'm still fully dressed, deciding to walk straight into the water with my clothes and remove them once submerged. I'm going to get them wet, anyway.

Someone has carved steps into the rock that leads to the water. I take slow, careful strides down, feeling the stone under my feet and testing for slick spots.

The heat envelops me inch-by-inch. I sink into the mineral water with a long sigh, my muscles loosening at the touch of warmth .

Once in the water, I can't get my gross, sweaty clothes off fast enough. They peel off my skin, and I'm half convinced that if I had let them stay on longer, they would have fused to me. Six days of sweat, dirt, and wear slide off me like lizard skin. I submerged in the river back home once or twice and ran a bar of soap down my body, but it was nothing like this.

Arrick is standing at the pool entrance when I turn around.

"Are you coming in?"

"Do you want me to use a different pool so you can have some privacy?" He looks uncertain. It's clear he wants to come in and be with me, but he's also trying to respect my boundaries. Funny, he should know by now that I don't have many, and I laugh to myself before tilting my head in a gesture for him to join me.

Locking his eyes with mine, he reaches over his head and pulls his shirt off. White muscled skin contrasts with the black runes marked all over his torso.

They weave unique patterns depending on where they're positioned. All are both circular and infinite. No pattern has a break. The rune characters are lined up as sentences, wrapping spells around his arms, fingers, chest, and stomach.

His body is thick and muscular, and when he pulls his pants off, I can see that the runes continue there as well. Black bands of spells wrap around his thighs, calves, and ankles.

I can't help but dip my eyes down to the chiseled V of his lower abdomen. He's not hard yet, but I vividly recall the bulge pressing against me last night and lick my lips. On closer inspection, he has runes on his cock. I wonder what lucky faerie wrote that spell.

Clothes in hand, Fe walks down the stone steps and meets the water with a hiss .

"It's wonderful once you get in. Plus, we can always jump into the river if it gets too hot." I splash him playfully. I wonder if his skin will pinken under so much heat. I doubt it. I've seen him winded while climbing and never saw a lick of color stain his face.

He fully submerges into the glassy water, steam rising into the moonlit night. The surface of the water ripples for a moment, and then he slowly rises, water beading down in rivulets from his black hair. His eyes are inky black pools that turn slightly silver, reflecting the full moon. He looks magical and ethereal. If I were to imagine a creature of protection, he would be it.

I take the bar of soap in my hand and begin working it through my clothes, anything to distract myself from watching his perfect body cut through the water toward me.

Settling beside me, his arm brushes against mine while we wash our clothes. I guess I've never noticed that his runes raise slightly from the base of his skin. It reminds me of touching a book written in braille for the first time. I want to close my eyes and run my fingers over each one, memorizing them by touch alone.

"What are you thinking about? You're quieter than usual." He scrubs hard at a stain on an off-white button-up—all business.

"Sorry, I just realized that the markings on your body are raised. Did they hurt when you got them?" I run the soap down my filthy shorts and vigorously rub the material together. I'm trying to wring every bit of dirt I can out of them.

He stops for a moment, thinking. "You know, I don't remember, exactly. When I was thirty, the Vaki of this forest passed. At that point, I had already been friends with Charlie and was already working here, traveling the lands and using my born magic to help wherever possible. I only remember electricity in the air and then the forest closing in on me, a claiming of sorts. It's a hard sensation to describe, and then nothing. I woke up in a wildflower field covered in the runes the next morning." He runs both hands through his wet hair. "I don't remember any pain, just the feeling of being chosen and the crushing responsibility that came with it."

He turns to me, and his black eyes meet mine. "This is my purpose. It is what I have been preparing for my whole life. Unfortunately, Vaki are solitary creatures. The only others of my kind I know are my sister and mother. No one prepared me for how lonely things could be. I'm friends with the sprites and the fairies, but they return to their dens and have families. They are all I have."

The pain in his eyes is heartbreaking, and I want to take it from him.

"What does that one mean?"

Attempting to distract him, I point to the thickest rune circling his torso. It's the biggest one by far on his body, and I've been curious about it since his top came off.

"That's my calling rune."His hand rubs at the raised skin. "It calls me to all the other Vaki and them to me. It's a way we can stay connected in our work, and it's also a fail-safe if a problem gets too big for just one of us to handle."

That makes me pause.

"Why haven't you called on one to help you control the wisps?" I say with perhaps a bit too much ire in my tone. I hope he's not stubborn and insisting he take on the problem himself when there is help.

"There's not much a Vaki from another land can do to assist me with the wisps."

I cock my head, hoping he elaborates. He explains that if you don't have a connection to this land, you must physically touch a creature to redirect its energy. "The wisps are tiny, floating creatures. Calling another guardian would just result in them walking around, hoping to get close enough to touch one."

I wish I knew more about folklore, about magic. I'm helpless here. My vast knowledge of the natural world is stunted. When magic is added to the mix, I can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability creeping in. Understanding this world would be easier if I knew all the rules.

I graze my hands down his arm, the raised runes pebbling under my palms. "Could you tell me what these mean? I know it's a lot, but knowing about your spells might help me understand the rules of your world a little better."

A big hand moves over mine, stroking my knuckles.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know, my lovely." He looks so sincere, and the sensation of his big hand over mine gives me goosebumps. He called me ‘my lovely.' A small smile spreads on my face at the pet name. This is going to be an interesting night indeed.