Page 61 of Whisper Woods

He doesn’t seem to care, though. He swaggers through the streets in his baggy khaki cargo shorts and ratty old high-top sneakers. He’s got an old band tee shirt with a plaid button up loose over the top. He seems to be the only being here decked out in “Mundane” clothes. Is that what their issue is?

I don’t really have time to consider it because we take a hard left and then we are apparently on Rafe’s street. Brydon’s too, because apparently they live together. But not likethat. Brydon had beenreallyexplicit about that.

We’ve left behind the condensed townhouses of the city centre. Stone walls fence the street, with mansion-like homes behind them. We come to a stop in front of a wall overgrown with ivy and a tall wooden gate engraved with wards. There is an arch over the gate.Lotsof arches in Tathys.

Rafe waves his hands at the gate and it creaks open. Brydon enters first, with Rafe tugging me along behind them, confused yet again.

“I thought you said that you were the not-a-shifter-shifter-thing?” I ask, following along behind through the incredible garden. It’s a riot of dark green leaves, shaded by massive trees with raised roots that form pockets in the yard.

“Adragonkin.” Rafe reminds me, throwing the word over his shoulder as he strides towards the large double doors. I’m spinning in circles as I walk, trying and failing to take it all in.

“Yeah, that.” I notice Rafe and Brydon are both waiting for me at the door so I jog to catch up. “What’s with the magic then?”

Brydon’s face screws up as he shoves the door open. “Every being can do magic, Seff. It’s in our blood. You could even argue that humans are capable, what with witches and all. Just requires a little extra work.”

In a jarringly normal move, he kicks off his shoes, flicking them into the pile of dirty sneakers next to the door. Considering I’m barefoot, I don’t do the same. Rafe, who got dressed with me in his own clothes before seeing the High Council, leaves his boots on, which feels more appropriate for how insanely fancy this place is.

“Don’t all beings do magic in the Mundane?” Brydon asks.

I don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to expect me to, he just continues talking while I try not to wig out at the vast entryway to Rafe’s home. The ceilings areat least three stories tall, with those same arched windows and colourful-glass patterns up the front wall. The space is painted a deep green colour, with vines and flowers painted all the way to the ceiling. There are more mosaic tiles on the floor in intricate patterns of flowers and leaves, and a giant—I meangiant—chandelier overhead.

A staircase, in the same rich, dark wood as the door, leads to the upstairs landing, which seems to lead to the two wings of the house, and four doorways lead from the entryway. Two at the front and two more doors sort of tucked away at the back. Behind the stairs are glass doors leading to what looks like the outside.

The place is huge.

Rafe looks perfectly at home, which makes sense, because, well, it is. He pulls a bag out of literal thin air and places it carefully on a low stand that seems to be designed entirely for that purpose. Where the fuck did the bag come from?

“Right, well, things to study. Mysteries to solve. I’ll be in the office when you need me.” Brydon waves with a nod, and meanders off into the house. I watch him go, while Rafe watches me, the exhaustion in his face not dimming his obvious enthusiasm for having me in his space.

I go to shove my hands in my pockets, but remember at the last second I don’t have them, and so I hook my thumbs into the waist of my pants instead, pacing around the room, inspecting the beautifully crafted furniture sprinkled around the room like art. A chest here, a uselessly small table there… that sort of thing. Usually I’d feel out of place or awkward. I’m a big guy and I’m not exactly known for being a delicate flower. But everything is sturdy and solid while being pretty. It’s good shit.

“So what do you think?” Rafe finally asks, a hint of impatience in his voice.

I stop my casual nosying around and head back to him, pulling him into my arms. His hands come up to fuss at my collar, then slide around my neck.

“Must be a bitch to heat in the winter.” I say, staring around at the almost cavernous space. Rafe laughs softly, shaking his head. The affectionate spark in his eye fills me with a warm, giddy feeling. I like that he wants me to like his home. It makes me feel important. “But I guess that’s not really a problem withthe whole infinite magic thing.”

“No, not really.” Rafe whispers back distractedly, his eyes now locked in on my mouth, the closeness of our bodies no longer able to be ignored. His tongue darts out to lick his lower lip.

“It’s nice, Rafe. Really nice. There’s something else I wanna see, though.”

He grunts. I don’t think he’s actually listening, his fingers massaging the back of my neck, all the way down to my shoulders. Liquid heat replaces my blood. There is only me, and Rafe and the way he’s touching me. I lean in close to his ear, biting down on the lobe, careful not to get one of his piercings instead. He shudders a loud groan as my teeth sink into him, his hips slamming into me in one jarring thrust. Chuckling darkly, I lick the shell of his ear. “I wanna see your room.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before he grabs my arm, and hauls me laughing up the stairs. If he could have made the trip with me thrown over his shoulder, I think he would have. Instead, I have to settle for the growling, mauling manhandling as we make our way up the stairs and blindly down the hallway to his room.

Not a terrible compromise really.

***

We slept. We slept fuckinghard.

Rafe kissed me like he was going to eat me alive, absolutely devouring me. Once we reached the sanctuary of his room, though, he stripped us both naked and pushed me onto the bed. When he joined me seconds later, rather than continuing what we started, he rearranged us so his body could wrap around mine, and commanded me to sleep.

Despite my raging erection, I passed out on command and now I have no idea what the time is. The blinds have been drawn, and it’s pitch black in here.

“You’re awake.” I smile at Rafe’s sleepy, raspy voice. I hadn’t even noticed him watching me, I reach out beneath the covers to yank him close to me again. We’d separated during our sleep and I have a desperate need to rectify that.

He comes easily, letting me roll us so he’s splayed on top of me, his elbows bracketing my head. With his face so close, his nose brushing mine, you’d think morning breath would be an issue, but love must be one hell of a drug becausehismorning breath doesn’t bother me anywhere near as much as it should. It’s almost… nice.

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