Page 58 of Untethering Dark

There was no time to explain.

Were the cookies really that bad? Had the jam spoiled?

Astrid lifted the plate and sniffed. Didn’t smell bad, but...

He was choking and holding his throat.

Ach! What if he was allergic to chocolate?

She ran inside to brew a tea that would ease the symptoms.

Cock in hand, desperately chasing release, Gudariks sucked in lungfuls of sharp, cold air. Distance from Astrid’s heady, aroused scent was already working wonders for clearing his head. He’d just been taken off guard by literally consuming the emotional equivalent of juice concentrate—a potent little beverage he sometimes found in tourists’ backpacks.

The unexpected intensity of her lust triggered the ravenous hunger, but now he knew to expect it, and he’d be prepared for their next meeting.

Now to just take the edge off...

Carrying a thermos and a pouch of willow bark stuffed in her coat pocket, Astrid followed Gudariks’s trail. In the spots where tree cover was minimal, and gusting winds blew away his tracks,she tugged off her mittens and crouched down to sift her fingers through the snow.

It did not melt from her touch.

Focusing on the accumulated flakes, the traces of melt and refreeze, she cast a spell to illuminate the heat signatures creatures left behind when they disturbed the snow. Patches began to glow—a chaotic latticework of tracks left by boots, paws, and hooves. The oldest prints were the faintest, light yellows and oranges, but the most recent were as bright and angry as flame.

It was how she found nightly offerings even in the harshest winters.

Once illuminated, Gudariks’s large, bipedal hoofprints were impossible to miss. She continued onward.

It was strange walking the woods this late in the day, and this far from home. She never could before. Even the so-called “Witching Hour” had always been off-limits. But that was before she’d gotten to know that there was so much more to Gudariks than a ravenous beast who prowled the mountain at night, looking for his next meal.

To practice winter magic under the light of the full moon...Slivers of excitement thrummed beneath her skin.What a glory that will be.

The sun hovered just above the horizon, twilight minutes away, and was soon to cast everything in pink and violet light when Astrid finally found the antlered forest god in a thicket of trees.

She almost called out to him, but his name froze on her tongue as she took note of his stance.

Gudariks stood wide with one arm braced against a tree, just above his head, and a hand between his legs, jerking back and forth.

Quiet as a rabbit, Astrid stilled, scarcely breathing as she watched, riveted by the motions and the sounds of slapping flesh. She hadn’t made him ill. Hadn’t triggered an allergic reaction. She somehow got him so hot and bothered that he ran off to masturbate.

She tried to remember something he said. Something about emotions and her baking.

I can taste you in these. Every emotion you’ve felt while making them is baked in, and I’m enjoying every single one.

Her cheeks flamed. He was enjoying her sexually frustrated batch all right. How had she forgotten about his sensitivity to emotions? It hadn’t even been a thought in her head when she offered the Kirsch-Marzipan to him.

His breathing and pacing picked up.

It was rude—no, it waswrong—to watch, but stars above, she couldn’t look away.

When his whole body shuddered, dappled rump clenching, her mittened hands tightened around the hot tea thermos.Ach Holle, he’s coming.

He sighed, heavy and sated, cum spurting the tree trunk and snow in crimson slashes.

Crimson?

A choked cry escaped her lips. “Are you okay? Is that...?”

His shoulders bristled a moment before relaxing. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.” He searched her eyes, a tenderness settling his features further. “But no, it’s not blood. That’s just the color it takes. And I’m fine. More than fine actually.” The last bit he said with a wink.

---