Page 37 of Bought By the Revenant
I walk quickly through the house and push open the back doors to step into the sunshine. Our grounds have transformed into a green paradise full of blooming flowers and fresh herbs everywhere I look. Through the garden paths, I spot Fria working.
The stables stand at the far edge of our property. We have a small collection of horses that live in absolute comfort, and as I get closer, I hear Riven and Olaf talking. They stand together near the fence, pointing at a beautiful chestnut mare who watches them with curious eyes.
“Riven!” I call.
He turns, those white eyes of his catching the light even from this distance. His stitched face breaks into a smile when he sees me. He says something to Olaf, then strides out to meet me halfway.
“You’re back early,” he says. “Is everything all right in Aura Glade?”
“Everything is perfect. I have something for you.”
I reach into the pocket of my dress and pull out a small package wrapped in blue paper.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Open it.”
He unwraps it, revealing a tiny garment made from the softest white fabric I could find. He holds it up between his large hands and stares at it in confusion.
“It’s a baby gown! For our child.”
“Our...? You mean...?” His eyes dart from the piece of baby clothing to me, then back to it.
“I’m pregnant, Riven.”
For a moment, he stands completely still and silent. Then his arms sweep around me, and he lifts me right off my feet.
“A child,” he whispers. “Our child. I never… Not in all my centuries… I never thought I would be a father.”
He spins me in a circle before setting me down, handling me as if I were made of glass. His hands hover over my stomach, which still looks flat.
“I’ve been feeling unwell for weeks,” I tell him. “The morning sickness, the fatigue… All the signs were there, but I wanted to be sure before I told you.”
“A child,” he repeats, seemingly unable to form more complex thoughts. “Amity, my love, you’ve given me so much, and now this miracle too?”
He lifts me into his arms again, and I cling to him, laughing.
“My wife,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my hair as he carries me toward the house. “The mother of my child. You make me so happy. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve me, Riven. You’ll be a wonderful father.”
He carries me through the house without slowing down, past a startled Nell who steps quickly out of our way, and up the stairs to our bedroom. The door closes behind us as he lays me on our bed, his white eyes shining brightly.
“A family,” he whispers, joining me on the bed. “Our family.”
I reach for him, pulling him close, silencing him with a deep, lustful kiss. He responds in kind, and before we know it, we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, throwing them all over the room.He grabs me by the back of my knees and spreads my legs wide, positioning himself at my dripping entrance. His cock is dripping, too, hard and engorged. He presses the mushroom head inside me, and our fluids mix. When he thrusts his whole length into me, I whimper and grab at the sheets. He has no patience, and I have none, either, so I don’t mind if this is hard and quick. It’s exactly what we need.
Riven looks into my eyes as he withdraws, then pushes in again. I dig my heels into his buttocks, encouraging him. He leans over me and kisses me hungrily as he fucks me with urgency. Skin slaps against skin, he grunts, I moan, our bodies are soon covered in a sheen of sweat. His movements become erratic. One of his hands moves between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit. He knows this drives me crazy. A few more thrusts, well timed with the firm strokes of his fingers on my throbbing nub, and my eyes roll in my head. I let out a scream and come hard, soaking him with my juices. As my pussy squeezes him like a vise, he explodes inside me, filling me with his hot cum.
We stay like that for a long while, still connected, united in more ways than one. He holds me in his arms, and I hide my face in his neck, inhaling his unique scent. Then his hand travels down my body and rests on my belly.
Together, we’re creating a new life.
Riven
Eighty Years Later
I sit in an armchair next to our bed, holding Amity’s frail hand in mine. Her skin is paper-thin, blue veins running under it, and I rub my fingers over her knuckles, now knotted with age. One hundred and seven years she has lived, an extraordinary lifespan for a human, even with the small magical interventions I’ve used to keep her with me. Time has left its mark across her face inlines and spots, turning her brown hair white, and making her body smaller with each passing year.
