Page 37 of The Wild Hunt
When the gong rings, I release the pent-up energy that has been all but burning my flesh since I watched her disappear through the portal. My fiery little bird. She was fucking divine. The moment my eyes had fallen upon her lithe form as she stood tall and proud on the stage to present herself to the medical fae, I knew I had to have her. The feeling was foreign and extremely uncomfortable. If I were to be completely honest with myself, the sizzling of my power had spiked the moment her pretty little eyes began to trace my form.
I’d felt like a faeling whose powers had just set in. It was shameful. But I wasn’t the High Lord of Light for nothing. I could contain myself and bind the incredible powers that flood my veins tightly within.
I’d watched the human woman walk away. The way she moved was like a dance, her hips swaying seductively as her middle finger rose to flip me off. It was a humorous human mannerism that many fae had picked up over the years. Seeing it performed by the angry little bird had made me laugh out loud.
Entering the field the following day during the Selection, it was as if a magnet pulled me towards her. I didn’t even need to search. The moment I stepped past the tree line, my eyes zeroed in on her. As I got closer, her divine scent of honey and parchment almost had me dropping to my knees and devouring her on the spot. Whether it was her pussy or her veryessence that I craved at that moment, I didn’t know. But it cemented my need for her even more. And that was before she opened her wicked little mouth. Ho-ly-fuck was she heavenly.
That night, as I lay in bed with a female tucked beneath each arm, my cock flaccid yet unsatisfied, I’d felt her. Right between my breastbone. At first it was just an annoying niggle, but eventually transformed into an urgent tug. I’d snarled at the females, and they scattered like terrified mice before donning some clothes and gathering my light and fading from my tent toher.
Her insistence on her not calling for me was boringly frustrating. And yet she amused me so. Leaving her there, her sassy tongue just begging for my cum, was hard. My powers were furious. A dozen trees on the edge of the forest could attest to that.
But letting my lightning free now, as the brewing storm only awoke it even more, was a blissful release. The sky accepted my gift with a resounding boom of thunder. They don’t call me The Eye of the Storm for nothing. I am the storm. And the storm is me.
And yet none of that mattered in this moment, because I had a pretty bird to catch.
I gather my light and fade before the hunters at my sides have the chance to make their first moves. Whether gifted with fading like myself, or able to access portal magic, or with neither power apparent, they would be dashing into the Forest.
I find her immediately. I don’t bother hiding. She’s too focused on running to spot me, anyway. She and her little friend. Both covered tit to toe in filth. They dart towards a Faerie Circle and quickly duck inside,pulling the petal of a recently deflowered Yonho plant in front of the entrance. I can’t help but roll my eyes. Of all the places my little bird would choose to hide, she chose the sacred site of a former portal. Which world this one once led to was beyond me.
I decide to let my pretty bird rest for a while. It would be no fun, after all, to catch her so quickly. Besides, I wanted to see how this played out. The males desired my little bird. I knew even before noticing her full jug that others would crave her.
I settle against the tree and close my eyes, letting my powers bask in the storm as the storm basks in me.
It’s hours later that another male finally catches onto my little bird’s scent. I grin as I recognize the male. Lord Raitcrew of Autumn. High Lord Vellins’ right-hand male. I was completely unsurprised he was hunting my feisty human. I can’t stop the wicked smirk from pulling at my lips as I picture my little bird taking him for a ride. And when she failed, because as feisty as she was, she was but human, I would take pleasure in taking him out myself. I have always loathed the self-righteous prick.
I follow silently as my bird takes Lord Raitcrew on an unromantic stroll through the Wylden Forest. I lurk in the shadows as she falls utterly exhausted to the dirt. I watch in simmering silence as Lord Raitcrew circles and hungrily eyes what’s mine.
But then…
I can't place the creature as I feel it closing in from behind Raitcrew. My magic recoils from its greasy yet smoky aura. The moment it leaps out of the shadows, I throw my head back and laugh. The Skraeming Dhevilkin. The only one of its kind. It had been haunting this forest for eons after slipping through a portal and getting stuck here when it closed behind it.
I’m intrigued when my bird speaks in familiar terms with the creature. They had met already. Now that was a story I had to hear. But not now. No. Right now, I need to claim my pretty little bird.
I circle the clearing and step out of the shadows.
“That was quite the show, Little Bird. Now it’s my turn.”
