Page 54 of Untethering Dark

This witch was turning his world upside down and backward with each encounter. The spontaneity was proving to be a quite enjoyable change of pace. And that was enough.

Beneath a starry night sky and frosted pine boughs, Gudariks sat in the snow between the witch’s knees, leaning against her and the stump where she perched. Her fingers ghosted along the prongs of his antlers, both soothing and exploratory.

Midnight came and went, and when Astrid yawned, he rose to his hooves. And as much as he still craved her touch, and the chance for another kiss, the witch wasn’t yet impervious to the elements. “You should warm up and get some sleep.”

It was the right thing to do, but stars above, he didn’t want to leave her. But what if...what if she invited him in? Took himto her bed and curled up in his arms? Gave him more of those sweet kisses and...

Rubbing her arms, she nodded drowsily. “Just hold on one moment. I want to give you something.”

He watched her disappear into the cottage with the plate of Kaiser-Plätzchen, trying not to give in to disappointment. When she returned, she carried a tin. “I thought you might want to take some home with you. Threw in a few from each of the other batches, as well. Springerle. Lebkuchenplätzchen. Pfeffernüsse.”

“Thank you.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek before taking the tin. “That was thoughtful.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” The hopeful look in her eye tugged at his chest, made him even more reluctant to leave her company, but he wouldn’t invite himself in. If she wanted him to stay, that was for her to ask.

“At sundown,” he agreed, tearing himself away.

That time could not come soon enough. As he headed back to his den, the night was mercifully quiet, undisturbed by drunken human revelry. The only turmoil he suffered was longing.

Chapter Twenty

Stripping down to bare skin, Astrid smiled to herself. She kissed Altes Geweih.

The bone of his cheek had been smooth, and while she expected it to be cool, a little warmth radiated from within, an ember next to the crackling fire that was the rest of him. The forest god threw off waves of heat, as many furred beings tended to do, and it kept her from needing to come inside sooner, to thaw in front of the hearth.

The pads of her fingers still tingled from touching his antlers; she removed her mittens to appreciate their topography. They were not so smooth as the rest of him. Grooves and bumps and striations marked their surface, and the prongs, while not knife sharp, would undoubtedly gore anyone within range of his great swinging head.

Meine Hexechen.

His little witch. As if he already claimed her.

Astrid’s smile widened.

Ignoring how much he wanted her was no easy feat. For someone whose usual methods were “fuck first, ask questions later” sticking to her resolve to savor him just a while longer was an unusual exercise in emotional edging.

A glacial breeze blew in through her cracked window, kept open a little wider than most fellow Deutsche. While it seemed like something only a Winter Hexe would do, even the humans of this alpine country didn’t let freezing temps stop them from welcoming fresh air into their homes. It had been a hard adjustment for Suri, who’d grown up in much hotter climes.

Remembering a promise she made, Astrid pulled out the prepaid phone she kept in her nightstand drawer and shot off a text to the only saved contact.

All is well. Just more chatting & flirting.

Johanna’s reply came swiftly.

Thank goodness. I really thought he was going to eat you in the bad way.

The good way is far more likely at this point.

Astrid donned one of her nicer nightgowns, a satiny sheath held up by razor-thin straps. Just a little something special to complement her good mood.

Her right arm was bare, save for a thin band of ink encircling her upper bicep; she’d gotten the tattoo with her coven sister Dahlia, who had one to match—their version of the friendship bracelet, only simpler and permanent.

But the skin along her left arm was tattooed from shoulder to wrist with line drawings of various poisonous plants. A token from her younger, wilder years traveling abroad. A fun, adventuresome time that had been, when she did reckless things like strut into a satyr Bacchanal with a flirtatious smile.

Astrid settled into bed, the space beside her empty and cold. Maybe she should have asked Gudariks to stay.

Astrid walked barefoot in the snow, passing through her front gate. Though she wore nothing more than a thin nightgown, the cold did not touch her. Desire for the old forest god kept her warm, each step leaving melted tracks that quickly froze over to ice.

Gudariks waited for her at the tree stump, one clawed obsidian hand outstretched. “You offer yourself to me?” Those were the first words he ever said to her.

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