Page 32 of The Howling
“Pretend you’re ill.” She pokes me in the leg.
“Ow!” I exclaim, grabbing at the area she stabbed with what was a surprisingly strong and pointy finger.
Instantly there is a huge Barghest towering over me.
“Wynter?” he rumbles, dropping to his knees in front of me.
He’s still huge, and I’m already getting flashbacks to when he shoved his nose right where it shouldn’t have been.
And I didn’t hate it.
I feel like my entire body blushes even though these thoughts are entirely internal. Reavely makes a deep rasping sound in his chest, and his eyes blaze.
“I’m fine.” I shoot a look at Alice, who feigns innocence. “I’m hungry though. Where did all this come from?”
“Your friend, the Hedley Kow, invited the Duegar. They did it,” Reavely says.
“You let a Hedley Kow into your castle?” Fenrother throws himself into a chair next to Alice and picks up an entire chicken.
Reavely glares at him, mirroring his behaviour and also picking up a chicken, which he eats in one enormous bite.
“I want to keep my mate happy,” he says, “so her friend gets to stay.”
REAVELY
Idid not want the Wyrm here, and I’ve yet to have an explanation as to why he came. I know he’s safe from the Reaper. Death wants nothing to do with a creature like Fenrother. He’d presumably annoy all the other souls in the same way he annoys me.
I also can’t get the taste of his scales out of my mouth, even with the food on offer. So, instead, I lift Wynter onto my lap, to make sure she’s as close to me as possible and as far away from the Wyrm as she can be. She squeaks a little as I help her but soon settles once I select some choice morsels for her.
Shame my prick isn’t going to behave, but the feel of her against it makes me feel better for having my home invaded by the Lambton Wyrm, gods only know how many Duegar, and a meddling Hedley Kow, who has to be behind all ofthis.
This invasion into a castle which has been empty and silent for decades.
“What are you doing, Reavely?” Wynter demands as I place the platter on her lap, doing my level best to keep my eyes off the rounded belly of the Wyrm’s mate.
What would Wynter look like filled with pups? My prick hardens considerably at the thought of her all ripe and round.
I growl away the thought. She is on my lap. I know she doesn’t want to be there, but I can’t help myself. I want her, and I don’t know how to get her.
I don’t know how the damned Wyrm managed, but his mate is not only still with him but filled with a wyrmlet.
For the first time since I scented Wynter, I don’t just want her to be mine. I know she is mine. She has been handed to me by the old gods because no one else would have matched a feral Barghest with a creature as beautiful as her.
She is as divine as they are.
“Oh wow, Reavely…this is amazing!” Wynter exclaims.
“You like the singing hinnie?” I query as I see she’s eating one of my old favourites, albeit slathered with a red jam, whereas I prefer them unadulterated.
“Singing hinnie?” she queries with a smile which lights up the entire castle and makes my heart do strange things inside my chest. “What a funny name.”
“These were my favourite when my mother was alive.” I take a bite out of the sweet treat. The Duegar have surpassed themselves, despite my serious neglect of my home which had caused them to move out.
“Gloriana used to make all sorts of things, but they always tasted a little bit of magic.” Wynter wrinkles her nose, and I see the tiny little spots which dot her skin, dark and light. They seem like the ink she has on her arms but at the same time they are not ink.
I want to lick them.
But licking body parts at table is not acceptable. Even if virtually all other activities are.
