Back in the living room, Heather was laughing with Oscar and Arlo, and Roken was laid back in the chair with his eyes closed, making snoring noises as he inhaled through his broken nose.
“Go to bed if you’re tired,” Seb said, kicking his leg and bringing him back to the room. “Oscar, lets go.” Oscar stood up, downing the rest of his glass, and left the room as Seb continued, “Anything specific you want from the shops?” He questioned generally to the room, but there were no answers, so he decided to get their regular stuff and some extra bits Heather may like: bread, fruit, normal human stuff.
The wine was going straight to Heather’s head. It was highly likely she didn’t drink regularly, but she liked the fuzzy feeling it gave her. She knew it was the alcohol, that she was getting drunk, but she had no memory of drinking or feeling this way before. A giggle escaped her lips. There was no reason for it, she just couldn’t stop herself. Then Heather looked at her fingers. They were tingling, almost like pins and needles, but not quite.
“Someone is a happy drunk,” Roken observed. There was a fresh trickle of blood from his nose, but overall his face was looking a lot better. He reached up and wiped it away with the back of his hand. He smiled at her the way someone would look at a child being cute, but it didn’t annoy her, she just giggled again. In his eyes she probably was a child, given how old he was.
“Not my fault you are so old!” she answered, her mouth acting before her brain could think.
“What’s that got to do with how drunk you are?” Roken laughed. He reached for the empty wine bottle and shook it at her. “This is why you are drunk.”
Heather looked at the demolished whisky bottle and knew he was probably just as drunk as she was. “I’m gonna suffer in the morning!” she moaned dismally.
“You’ll be ok,” Arlo comforted.
“I got a hangover cure right here for you, baby!” Roken grabbed his groin, teasing, reminding her of the hangover curse she ‘provided him’.
Heather was on her feet before she realised she was moving. She knew it wouldn’t cure a hangover, or being drunk, but he was still delicious. “Best start now,” she purred and made a drunken grab at his crotch, but Arlo was up in a heartbeat, pulling her back. “I’m sorry!” she giggled. “I was just trying to play along.”
Roken shrugged like he didn't mind. He'd have let her do it, but Arlo was too much a gentleman to risk taking advantage of her in this situation.
“I know,” Arlo assured her, cradling her as she curled into him.
She put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. His heart beat rhythmically under her ear, a lullaby that she could easily fall asleep to, but she wouldn’t get to sleep. Arlo’s muscular body was turning her on, along with his musky sweat and woodchip odour. Her hand slipped down to his groin and stroked him as she reached up to kiss him.
“Maybe it’s time for bed,” Roken whispered in her ear, his arm trying to guide her away.
“Is it wrong to want you both so much?” she muttered.
“Only when you’re drunk,” Roken replied.
“Is it wrong for women to want sex when drunk?” She turned and her lips met his. His taste was unlike Arlo, even without the blood and whisky. She broke away to kiss Arlo. So delicious, she thought. She wanted both of them, wanted them to love her, to pleasure her, to worship her.
“Kneel,” she ordered, surprising herself. They did it! She couldn’t believe it, but they both knelt there, their heads dropped slightly. “Pleasure me.” She hardly dared to utter the words, but once out, her men obeyed her.
Their hands touched her body, slipping her out of her trousers. Their fingers and their lips worshipped her thighs. She was moaning already. A dream! It has to be a dream, she thought, but she didn’t want to wake up. Their lips moved up her legs, her panties moved down, and her hands held the back of their heads, guiding them. She pulled Arlo up for a kiss, while Roken’s touch had her quivering. She was floating, suspended weightlessly in her desire, until she dropped down into Roken’s lap. Arlo knelt behind her, his hands stripping her, then cupped her breasts, kneading and moulding her. Her head was swimming, so many hands touching her, distracting her, and she floundered with Roken’s belt until she felt his fingers over hers, helping her open his trousers.
Heather lifted her body, inviting them both to take her.
Roken’s hands cupped her hips, guiding her down onto his erection, and she leant forward for a kiss, holding her position as Arlo knelt down. As her tongue dipped into Roken’s mouth and swirled with his own, Arlo’s tip pressed against her, and her kiss stalled as Arlo eased himself into her back passage. She could feel him inside her, she could feel them both, and it excited her. Arlo’s arms wrapped around her body, and his large hands enveloped her breasts. She closed her eyes and drowned in the pleasure of their alternating thrusts inside her.
They became distant, their faces, their bodies, their groans. She could still feel them inside her, but she didn’t feel like she was there anymore.
“I’m not doing it,” a female voice drifted through her mind.
“You have to,” a man responded. The male voice wasn’t that of Arlo or Roken, but she did recognise it from somewhere.
“I’m not going to be your pawn. I’m not a monster,” the woman’s voice countered.
Was it her voice? A memory? Whatever it was, it was beginning to feel more real. Roken stalled inside her, but it didn’t matter. She was nearly there, in a room, there were people, and the faces were coming to her.
“Heather? Are you ok?” Roken’s voice disturbed the vision.
“I’m fine, keep going.” She heard the slap as her hand hit his bare thigh. She screwed up her face, tried to return to the faces. There they were, it was... It was Roken and Arlo. “I’m not a monster!” she screamed, propelling forward into Roken’s face.
Everything went crazy in the space of a heartbeat. Arlo’s reactions were slowed by the alcohol, but he still managed to pull Heather off Roken. As her lips broke away from his, Roken blinked vacantly and keeled over sideways. Arlo stood with Heather in his arms. He turned, but as he moved, his knees buckled and he fell sideways, shifting as he did.
Arlo’s head felt fuzzy, but he knew it wasn’t the drink. He felt different. He felt hungry, and not in his stomach, like he would if he had not eaten enough food, but in his bones. This was the part of shifting he hated the most, when his vampire curse hit him. Damn. He hadn't had blood for a long time. He glanced at Heather, and she stared up at him with a dazed look in her eyes. What was that about? he wondered, but his voice was just a growl. Heather startled and backed away from him, grabbing at clothing to cover her naked form. He couldn’t blame her for being scared, laying eyes on his large wolf form for the first time. Behind him, Roken was slumped sideways on the floor, and Arlo moved to stand over him, lifting one paw to his chest and nudging him gently. Wake up!
Roken opened his eyes and lifted his head slowly. He sat back and waited patiently as Roken struggled to sit up. His arms were shaking in his lap as Arlo spoke to him or tried to. His lips moved up and down, sound formed in his throat but Roken just frowned at him, seeming confused. What had she done to them?
His luck was no better when he tried a second time to ask Heather, and his quizzical look was still met by a fearful reaction, so he turned back to Roken. He dropped his head into Roken’s abdomen, then flopped himself down and waited for Roken to respond. Heather sat down next to Roken and her hand tickled him between his ears. Oh yes. He loved having his ears tickled. Arlo made a point of wagging his tail. It felt a bit pathetic, but he needed to work on his body language. Trying human talk just made him snarl and bare his teeth.
“I think I'm gonna quit drinking,” Roken chuckled nervously.
Idiot. Do you really think you were shaking on the floor because of four glasses of whisky? Arlo’s lips curled as he expressed his thoughts in the back of his throat.
“Drinking?” Heather frowned, cuddling into Roke
n in a way that made Arlo jealous.
Yeah, she knows it wasn't the whisky. It was her.
Arlo would probably be shaking himself if he could manage to stay human. He could probably turn back if he tried, but Arlo so rarely let his beast out, it felt quite nice. Or maybe that was just the tickles.
“I heard something in my head. Like voices, but not.” Heather rested her head on Roken, but her hand didn't stop stroking Arlo, so he didn't object. “And not crazy voices, I think I remembered something.”
“You went a bit weird, like you were miles away.” Roken smiled, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Just keep stroking pal!
“You know you slapped me?” Roken asked.
“Yes!” Heather dropped her face into her hands. “I'm so sorry!”
Roken laughed, removing her hands from her face and lifting her chin. “It’s ok. Just this once,” he said, smiling at her. “What did the voices say?”
“There was a woman and a man. The woman said she was leaving, and the man said she couldn't. Then the woman said she wasn't a monster.”
“You said that out loud,” Roken muttered.
Said? More like a blood-curdling scream. Arlo whined softly.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” Heather rested her head on Roken’s chest again. “I was trying to picture the people, but then all I could see were you two.”
“It wasn’t us,” Roken assured her. “Do you think the woman was you, or someone you were watching?”
“I know it wasn’t really you. I felt angry that you were pulling me back, but I’m glad you did.”
“We didn’t really do anything.” Roken shrugged and then looked down at Arlo. “Shift back, you daft bugger.”
Arlo forced air out of his jowls, his attempt at a sigh. If it was that easy, he'd shift in and out daily. He was tired, and it was nice, relaxing in Roken’s lap. He’d go to bed if he could be bothered. They probably all would, if any of them could be bothered.
Roken sat on the sofa. His eyes felt heavy, and he couldn’t stop bloody shaking. Heather sat across his lap with her head resting on his chest, her hand stroking Arlo as the wolf rested his head on Roken’s other thigh. Despite their combined weight on his legs, he could still feel them shaking. Maybe it was time for him to stop drinking. Or maybe he had to consider it wasn’t the alcohol that was doing this to him. He didn’t want to believe it was Heather, but she was the only common factor, and there was something odd about her he couldn’t put his finger on.
“I’m not a monster,” Heather muttered. Her words still had her worried. Her mind wasn’t focused on stroking the large wolf staring longingly at her, but her fingers absentmindedly circled through his thick fur as she tried to recall more details from her memory.
“Did the woman sound like you?” Roken asked, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“No, I don't think so,” Heather muttered. The woman had sounded angry, and it had all been so quick, so distant, it had been over before she knew it had begun.
“Oh!” Roken was so impressed with his idea he actually sat up. “What if you saw this man and woman having that chat, she attacked him, and one of them got hurt. That might be why you ran?”
“Do it again,” Heather demanded, sitting up quick. “Oh god! Did I actually say that?” She had just suggested having sex again, just so she could try to hear the voices again. It was a stupid idea she knew she shouldn’t have voiced as soon as she said it. God what did they think of her?
“I think we should go to bed. Maybe it will come to you when you’re sleeping,” Roken suggested. “I’m sorry. I will help you work this out, but I’m beat, and Arlo’s no use like this. We need to rest. All of us. I promise I’ll help you in the morning.” At his words, Arlo lifted his head off Roken’s lap, stood up and trotted out of the room. Roken chuckled. “Y’know, I kinda feel like I should let him out in the garden before bed.”
Heather smiled, then stood up and waited for Roken as he gathered up the glasses. He looked dead on his feet, and she wanted to make sure he got to bed safely, so she took the glasses from his hands and carried them into the kitchen. She looked at the backdoor and considered opening it for Arlo before she locked it, but there was no sign of either shifter, so she locked up and went up to bed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
7 .36 AM? Too early! Roken was exhausted, but now he was awake, and he just couldn’t get back to sleep. He was a night owl, not an early riser, but his mind couldn’t let go of the evening’s events. The tired shifter had enjoyed getting physical with Heather, sharing her with Arlo had been exciting, but it had ended... Well, he didn't really remember how it ended. After she launched herself forward at him, that had been it. The next moment it had all been cuddles and puppies.
He climbed out of bed, dressed and headed all the way downstairs to the ground floor. He needed to check the books again, but they were no longer neatly arranged on shelves in the library. They were now in boxes, in the chamber below the house. The dungeon. Roken would have to go into that dark, cold room to read them now. He didn't like it down there, but he'd saved the wrong books. He'd been looking for the wrong information. Instead of trying to find out what she was with nothing to go on, he should have been trying to find what would make shifters feel drained after sex. If only there was a way of standing in the doorway and asking the books to show him the answers. It wasn't going to happen, but he was still standing there, frozen in the doorway, staring into the dungeon.
He couldn't go in. He wanted to. He tried to, but he couldn’t get his feet to move forward. His palms were sweaty on the doorframe, but the rest of his body felt cold. The harder he tried, the harder he struggled to breathe, and before he knew it, he was shaking uncontrollably.
Damn it! Was he that weak? Was he so afraid of what had happened in the dungeon so many years ago? Seb had a mind for torture back then, excruciating, humiliating torture, and Roken had lost more than just his testicles in that room. Defeated, Roken turned and walked back up the stairs.
Oscar walked into the kitchen where Roken sat at the table, looking like he'd seen a ghost. He was pale and shaking, his mind miles away. The shifter had a mug of coffee between his hands, but after so long daydreaming, it was stone cold.
“Coffee's cold,” Oscar commented, trying to gain Roken’s attention after his arrival seemed to go completely unnoticed. He walked around the table and flicked the kettle on. At least the sky was overcast today, light grey clouds that hid the sun without threatening rain, his favourite weather. He could open his window wide and enjoy the world without the discomfort of the light.
“Here.” Oscar pulled the cold mug from between Roken's hands and replaced it with a fresh hot one.
Roken blinked and looked up at him. “Thanks.”
“What happened?” Oscar asked, sitting opposite him.
“I had a thought about the books. I've been looking for books about species. I wanted to look for books about demonic conditions, see if there was anything that would make us feel lousy or force a shift.” Roken sighed heavily. “But I couldn't make myself go in.”
Oscar nodded. “I get ya.” Every box he had taken into the dungeon had taken a little more strength to keep going. He knew Roken's memories of the room were bad, but his own were the stuff his nightmares were made of. “Have you asked Arlo?”
“Asked Arlo what?” Heather entered the room, bright and cheerful. She, it seemed, had slept well.
“No hangover?” Roken asked, shooting a teasing smile at her before answering Oscar’s question. “Arlo's in the garden.”
“In the garden?” Oscar questioned. He walked over to the window and looked out. A large, dark wolf pounced around the far-left corner of the garden. He would have been chasing rabbits if he hadn't scared them away as soon as he went out. Now he was just chasing scents. “Why is he a wolf?” Oscar asked, frowning.
“Because that's what he shifts into,” Heather muttered, with a shrug.
“I think he wants
a little more detail,” Roken laughed. “After you left, Arlo and I had a moment with Heather.”
“You mean sex?” Oscar raised his eyebrow. Good for Roken getting in on the action, but Arlo hadn't shifted when Oscar had been involved.
“Great sex,” Heather agreed. “Have you seen the size of his cock?”
“Uh, yeah” Oscar glanced across to Roken “but why did Arlo shift?”
“Uh, well, she kinda… Well, she did something.”
“What?” Oscar asked him.
“I don't know,” Roken confessed. “That's why I was thinking about the books.”
“What about the books?” Heather questioned suspiciously.
“Just thinking it would be so much easier if we could call to the room and the books would just give me the answers.” Roken shrugged off her suspicion.
“All you need is the internet and you can search anything.”
“Anything?” Roken looked at Oscar. “Do you know about this internet thing?”
“I've heard of it. Last couple decades or so it's got more popular,” Oscar answered truthfully. “I don't really understand this modern technology.” He could tell Roken didn’t really believe him, but it was true. So much had changed since he had been young, and he hadn’t kept up with all of it. Hiding away from the world made life easier for him.
“I’ll take you to an internet cafe and help you get set up. I’ll show you how to search.” Heather offered the shifter.
“Roke, if I thought the internet was useful, I would have taken the time to get to grips with it, but it’s technology for humans. There would be nothing there for you. Nothing about demons or darklings, nothing about Heather’s species or past.”
“My species?” Heather gasped.
“You can explain that one,” Roken said, decidedly, standing up. “I’ll get Arlo in.”
Oscar sighed as Roken left the house by the back door. “We think there might be something about you that’s not quite human.”
“A demon then? Succubus? What?” Heather muttered.
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