Escape From The Green

by Gadziala, Jessica

  Keep her alive.

  Keep her safe.

  She made another murmuring sound as her arm rose, flinging across my thighs to hold onto more of my heat.

  And I felt it.

  Something I had no business feeling.

  Because she was young.

  Because she entrusted me to take care of her.

  Because men like me didn't get to feel things for women like her, women who attracted the gazes of princes.

  But there was no denying the way desire uncurled in my stomach, spread through my system, until there was a whole new reason my body was radiating heat.

  My hands curled into fists at my sides, my jaw setting to steel as I gritted my teeth and simply felt the desire, knowing there was nothing I could do to ease it.

  Even as she snuggled closer, her hand just inches away from a part of me that was begging to be touched.

  Eventually, it eased.

  And I found some rest as well, warmed by her body against mine just as her body stole from me.

  There was an odd crackling sensation across my chest as I drifted off, something warm and light, thawing. Something that I maybe started to interpret as contentedness until sleep claimed me, wiping all memories of it away.

  FIVE

  Amy

  I woke up slowly, snuggled up in warmth like I did most cold mornings, nestled under a pile of blankets to ward off the chill of the drafty compound walls and windows.

  My eyes stayed closed, enjoying those silent morning moments, the ones that were mine alone, where the dregs of dreams swam warm and fuzzy around my head.

  Like saving Drake.

  Like escaping myself.

  Pleasant dreams.

  A loud whooshing noise finally made me take a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to wake up my sleepy system, my eyes opening, blinking uncomprehendingly at what was before me. A bit of a stone wall met with a makeshift pine branch one.

  It was right about then, too, that I realized I wasn't in my bed made lumpy in predictable places from many nights of use, that the warmth wasn't coming from a pile of covers.

  Oh, no.

  My bed felt lumpy because it wasn't a bed at all, but rather the lap and legs of someone.

  And I was warm because of their unexpected body heat.

  I went to shift away, uncomfortable at the idea of having climbed up in his lap in my sleep, wanting to move away again before he woke and caught me. If he hadn't caught me already. But then I realized where my hand was, making me freeze.

  My fingers were all wedged between his thighs, thumb brushing up against the most intimate part of him.

  Oh, hell.

  What was I supposed to do in this situation? Never having been in anything even resembling this kind of thing before, I had no clue.

  If I moved too suddenly, I might wake him up.

  And then he would know where my hand was.

  A frustrated, insecure, embarrassed little part of me whispered about how it was no big deal since he had touched me exactly in the same place just the day before.

  It was different, I reminded myself, trying to shake off the swirling, uncomfortable feeling in my belly that had been there since the moment the pleasure overtook my system. At his hands.

  I'd been vaguely aware of the spell, though not that it was a spell at all. All I knew was my body was on fire, burning with need. It was all over at once, overwhelming. A tightened coil of need formed in my belly, so twisted that it was painful. My breasts had felt heavy, the very brush of my shirt over my hardened nipples enough to cause more sparks of need to overtake me. My skin felt like it was prickling with it. My brain felt slow and clouded by it.

  It was all there was in the world.

  Desire.

  The need for release.

  I had never felt something even remotely like it before.

  It felt as though it was going to consume me, like I would combust if I didn't get relief, like I would become nothing but ashes and ember.

  And then the world had shattered in a surge of pleasure so strong it felt like it moved from my core, shooting outward until it reached my scalp, my fingertips, the soles of my feet.

  It was then that I was aware of Drake.

  Of Drake's hand between my thighs, fingers pressing into the most sensitive part of me.

  To break the spell, the rational part of my mind knew, understood that this was sex magic racking my system, that it would turn my brain to mush if it wasn't broken. He'd broken it. It was a cure. Cold and clinical.

  The problem was it didn't feel cold and clinical. It felt like intimacy. It felt like warmth and goodness.

  It felt like something someone else had never given me before.

  Inwardly, I cringed at that.

  It wasn't like it was a secret.

  It was likely the reason the Dark Prince would even consider an offer.

  Virginity was still worth a lot in some circles.

  And my mother had done everything within her power to make sure it was a selling point she could use to gain her best advantage.

  The guards that were allowed to be alone with me knew they would sacrifice their manhood if they so much as put a hand to my skin, a task my mother would delight in inflicting herself. With nothing more than a dull kitchen knife.

  Not that a single one of them would have been my choice - were I even given one. She seemed to sense it when I had started having normal yearnings. It was around that time that any young, attractive guards were replaced with much older ones, balding ones, beady-eyed ones, and, well, not to be indelicate... but ugly ones.

  I'd never been given the chance to be around men who I could consider, who would be allowed to consider me too.

  And after all the years, I had perhaps begun to romanticize it, imagine it. Someday, with someone beautiful, with someone who saw me for who I was instead of a card to be played, who maybe, perhaps, loved me.

  That was what I had wanted when I felt a man's hands on me the first time.

  That was why I ran away to avoid becoming prey to the hands of the Dark Prince.

  It wasn't supposed to be cold and clinical.

  But that was what I got.

  Even as the sensation overtook me, so did a crippling sensation of loss and an unshakable embarrassment.

  I hadn't been able to meet his eyes afterward, as weak as that may have made me sound.

  He'd been able to move on, move past it, act like it was no big deal.

  But it had been a big deal for me, and it was proving hard to reduce it to nothing.

  Taking a careful breath, I shifted my fingers slightly, my entire body stiffening, feeling for any possible movement on his part.

  Feeling nothing, I carefully pulled them further, freeing them entirely, balling my fist to rest on his thigh, not wanting to fully pull away all at once.

  It was then that I felt the weight on my lower back.

  An arm.

  Drake's arm.

  As I became more aware of it, I felt his fingers, the way they were curled into my hip in a way that, again, felt intimate, felt almost possessive.

  Felt way too good, I admitted to myself.

  Outside our little shelter, the wind still gave the occasional gust, but nothing compared to the night before.

  We had to get going.

  As soon as possible.

  It was morning.

  If we set a steady pace, I was sure we could reach the human realm by nightfall.

  I knew exactly how far it was from my parents' compound, less than a day's walk. But we had gone in the other direction. I had no actual idea how far we were away.

  "You're up."

  It wasn't a question.

  It was an observation, making me wonder if he had actually been awake the whole time, if he had felt my fingers touching him, if he had been conscious of my careful extraction of my hand - something that may seem silly to him.

  "You were right," I said, sitting suddenly upright, wiping at my eyes in an
attempt to avoid eye-contact without it being obvious I was doing so. "It's warmer when we are closer," I added, rolling a crick out of my neck.

  The air settled between us, making everything several degrees cooler.

  "Do you want to eat, or are you ready to get going?"

  "I'm ready," I said, ignoring a little grumble in my belly. There would be time to eat later. I needed some space right then.

  Drake made some noise, making his way over toward the door, climbing out.

  It was barely a few seconds before I saw him rip off the top row.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, looking out the hole he had created above me.

  "We don't want to leave any traces of us, first of all," he told me as he went to work on the second row, making it possible for me to stand and step right over the bottom one.

  "And second of all?" I asked, brows drawing together when he handed me what was the top row.

  To that, he let out a sound that was much like a humorless chuckle. "Nature will no doubt need to call. We will - no doubt - want some privacy for that."

  "Right," I mumbled, feeling like an idiot, and maybe a bit embarrassed at the idea of nature calling while he was anywhere near the vicinity.

  But at least he was thinking ahead, guarding our modesty, what little bit of it we could retain.

  "It's not heavy," he added when I said nothing further. "It shouldn't slow us down. Plus, if we need it again, it will be a lot less work. You ready?"

  I nodded a bit tightly, falling into step behind him, a bit annoyed when he fell back a step, moving in at my side, not letting me out of sight.

  I should have been thankful, but every so often, I felt his gaze on me.

  But, thankfully, he said nothing.

  It was mid-day when we took a break, going off in opposite directions to take care of things no two people wanted to share, before settling down in an oddly clear section of the woods, allowing us to sit down on ground not covered in snow as we shared a small meal.

  It was then that he seemed to lose whatever control had been there to keep him silent all morning.

  "Think we need to talk about it," he said, voice a little low, like maybe he too was uncomfortable.

  "No."

  "Can't even look my way, honey. Stiffen up if I get too close. Think we do need to talk about it."

  "It's not a big deal."

  "Clearly, it is," he countered, reaching out, putting a finger under my chin, not forcing it up, simply waiting for me to do so myself. When I did, my eyes found his for the first time up so close, seeing flecks of red around the iris, something completely unusual, something that must have been unique to his kind. Beautiful, my brain added. "I never would have taken advantage of you if I was given any kind of choice, Amy. It was that or let you burn up."

  "I understand that," I agreed, nodding a little, making his finger fall from my chin.

  "You understand, but it still feels like an invasion."

  "Yes." The word came out almost like a whisper. Like a secret.

  His gaze fell for a long moment, considering the shells on the ground between us. It rose again though, eyes almost a little sad, guarded.

  "I'm not the man."

  "I'm sorry?"

  His shoulders shrugged a bit at that. "I have nothing to do but observe, Amy. And I've seen how your mother has protected you. Kept men away from you. I understand," he said, voice dropping low with knowledge, "how things are. And that this was not the way you'd have wanted it. And that I am not the man you wanted it with either. I'm sorry for that. But I'm not sorry about saving you." My heart stuttered a bit at that, making my gaze fall, feeling very exposed around him suddenly. "It was the least I could do. You saved me first."

  I felt my lips curl up slightly, a bit frustrated with myself for taking it so seriously when all he was trying to do was help. "So what you're saying is... we're even," I said, meeting his gaze.

  To that, he did chuckle, but with the humor this time. "Something like that," he agreed, nodding. "So we can move on?" he asked. I was about to agree when he cut me off. "I mean, after all, you got a feel too. Granted, you were sleeping, but we're even on all fronts right now."

  I was sure my entire face went beet red with how hot it felt.

  "Come on," he invited, standing, reaching down to take my hand, pulling me to my feet. "I'm thinking we may be able to get into the human realm before dark. Can you feel it?" he asked, holding his arms out wide at his sides.

  "Feel what?" Aside from the arctic cold.

  "The buzz," he declared, reaching for my wrists to drag them up and widen my arms like his. "Just close your eyes and feel for a second," he demanded, seeming to pick up on my ignorance. I never had cause to really feel the veil before. I was usually hurtling through it at a dead run or in a carriage. I knew what The Green felt like from the other side. Like a pulling, like it was trying to drag me back. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind, trying only to feel. And there was the cold, sure, but under that, a low, tingling sensation. It felt weak to me, just a hint of something.

  "It's far off still. But that is it. If you are looking for the veil, that is what you should be looking for. That feeling. It gets stronger as you get closer. It gets more uncomfortable too. Maybe not as much to you since you have spent so much time there, but for fae who have never left The Green, it is an uncomfortable thing that makes your skin feel like it is buzzing."

  "Like electrocution," I suggested, only remembering after I had said so that the concept was likely lost on him. "Hey, Drake?" I asked, watching his back as he turned, seeming to try to feel for the right direction.

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you going to cross over too?" I asked, unsure why I wanted to know.

  "Bring you over?" he clarified, turning back to me, brows low. "Of course I will bring you over." Something in my face must have given me away, because his head ducked to the side slightly. "You want me to stay with you for a night there? Just to make sure they didn't follow?"

  That was a very small part of it, sure. And another part was simply liking his company. The third was this odd urge I had. To show him the human realm, to expose him to all the things I myself was so fascinated with. Maybe it was because he had been so trapped for so long, had missed out on so much. But there was a quiet little voice in the back of my head that suggested that I maybe just wanted to show him a little bit of what made me me.

  Silly?

  Yes.

  Girlish, even?

  Absolutely.

  But true nonetheless.

  "I understand if you want to get toward your homeland as soon as possible..."

  "I'll stay, Amy. I've been away for so long. One more day won't make a difference."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure," he agreed, giving me a nod before holding an arm out in the direction he had chosen, leading to an area where the snow seemed lighter, like it had somehow melted even with the frigid temperatures.

  "When it is winter in The Green," Drake started a while later, "is it winter in the human realm?"

  "No," I supplied with some authority, a little pleased to know something he didn't know.

  "That's why the trees are dripping," he surmised, looking up at the half-thawed limbs, icy water dripping steadily down on top of us.

  The buzzing feeling was becoming stronger as we walked into a muddy mess of the woods. I wondered where we would surface in the human realm. It was always on the property my parents maintained when I was brought there, but I understood that most of the time, you ended up in unknown places - The Green and the human realm both being so vast.

  Inwardly, I hoped it was somewhere we wouldn't look like outsiders. Winter clothing aside. I hoped they spoke the same language. I hoped we wouldn't have to slip back into The Green, walk a bit, and reemerge.

  Once I was out, I hoped not to have to come back.

  I hated even thinking that, knowing Jasper and Jade were still there, knowing how much I yearned
to know the sensation of family, the kind that came with love and kindness instead of coldness and ambition.

  But maybe they could visit me.

  Someday.

  Maybe I could send word somehow.

  I could even give Drake a note to send off before he visited his homeland.

  I knew where I was going to go.

  The place humans nicknamed after an autumnal fruit.

  I knew it would be busy there, that I may be hard to find, but they knew the human realm well. If anyone could do it, they could.

  On a grumble as a bead of sweat trickled down between my shoulder blades, I dropped my bag, stopped, and stripped out of my heavy winter jacket and a few layers of shirts. "Aren't you hot?" I asked, watching as he stood there watching me roll up the long sleeves of my shirt.

  "Yes."

  "Why don't you take off your jacket?"

  There was a guard over his eyes for a long second before he turned away from me, shrugging so that his jacket fell off his shoulders, revealing his horrendously scarred back, a sight that made my stomach drop.

  But there was something else.

  Something reddish and jagged sticking out of his skin.

  Unable to stop myself, I moved closer, hand raising, reaching out, brushing my fingertips over one of the plates that were evidence of his lineage.

  Drake's head turned over his shoulder as a shudder racked his system.

  "Sorry," I rushed to say, going to snatch my hand back.

  "No. It's okay," he rushed to say. "Go ahead," he urged. My curious fingers didn't need any more encouragement. My fingers moved over the plate again, the roughness feeling like it snagged at my much softer skin. "It's just been a long time since I felt anything other than violence," he admitted, making my heart squeeze in my chest as my hand drifted away from the plate that seemed like it was damaged around the sides, maybe making it hard for it to slip back inside his skin. My fingertip found the edges of the scars on his flesh, wide and nearly skin-tone with age.

  Images flashed before my eyes of the guards - or even my very father - brandishing whips, canes, tree branches, slamming them relentlessly into Drake's bare back as the man fell to the ground, hunching, face contorted in pain, body tight as he tried to fight the Change.