Fantastical f-3

by Kristen Ashley

  Hmm. Of course he was right.

  “Maybe you can take some hides and make a bed on the other side of the fire,” I suggested.

  “And maybe you can do that,” he retorted. “I’m sleeping here.”

  Then he lay back down and yanked at the covers which made me teeter as they pulled against me. I held firm and continued glaring at him.

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I declared.

  “As you know, I’m perfectly fine with that. The one time I took you to my bed, it was vastly unpleasant. I’m not yearning for another go.”

  I blinked and when I opened my eyes, I knew they were huge. “We’ve slept together?”

  I knew this was likely a crazy question, seeing as we were married, but still.

  He got up on his elbows again and scowled at me, “Why do you persist in this foolishness?”

  I didn’t reply to his question, I was on a mission so I repeated, “We’ve slept together?”

  He glared at me before he sighed and stated, “I’ll play,” on a mumble. Then he continued, “We have, indeed, slept together. As you know, because you were bloody there, after our wedding, we consummated the union. To say you were the worst I ever had would be to utter the definition of an understatement. You, Cora, are undoubtedly the worst any man could ever have.”

  Oh God.

  He went on, “Then you spent the night in my bed. You snored,” he paused then carried on, “loudly. Then you kept stealing the covers, moved around an inordinate amount and took up most of the bed. I endured it but never wished to repeat it. However, we’re here, this is the only place to sleep, I’m sleeping here, with you, if I must. If you prefer to move across the way, be my guest.”

  Okay, there was a lot to consider there. First was the fact that he was my husband and he’d only had sex with me once, it didn’t go well (to say the least) and he’d only slept with me in his bed once. Second was the fact that I was getting the sense we didn’t live together which wasn’t surprising to me since he was a jerk and he obviously didn’t like the Cora of this world. Third was that Cora of this world was way not like me; I didn’t snore and I slept like the dead, usually in a fetal position, waking up in the same spot as I fell asleep. Last was the fact that I didn’t exactly know how to separate the hides so we both had our fair share considering they were stitched together.

  Then it came to me.

  “Okay, how about this,” I started. “I take the sheepskins with me, you get the top hide and the grassy stuff.”

  “No, you want to move, you get the cowhide on top.”

  So that was cow.

  Interesting.

  “That isn’t fair,” I informed him. “The sheepskins are fluffier.”

  “I know,” he replied.

  Jerk!

  “But you get the grassy stuff!” I snapped.

  “I get that too.”

  I clenched my teeth. Noctorno was silent.

  “You’re a jerk!” I told him.

  “Pardon?”

  “A jerk!” I clipped, twisted further to him and jabbed a finger in his direction, “You! Jerk!”

  “Jerk?” he asked.

  “Argh!” I groaned, understanding they didn’t have that term here and deciding against educating him. Then I made a decision and flopped on my back on the skins. “Fine, whatever, we’ll sleep together. You just stick to your side and don’t touch me.”

  “I’ll stick to my side but you need to stick to yours.”

  “No problem,” I hissed.

  “Rubbish,” he muttered.

  “Whatever,” I snapped, yanking the hides to my chin then turning to my side away from him and curling my knees into my belly.

  “You kick me, steal the hides or snore, I’m moving you and the top hide across the way myself,” he said to my back.

  I closed my eyes and warned, “You touch me, I’ll kick you so hard in the balls you’ll kiss any hope of children good-bye.”

  “I did that a long time ago,” he mumbled and I swiftly rolled to face him.

  “Do you have to have the last word?” I snapped.

  “Yes,” he returned.

  “Jerk,” I gritted out.

  “Cow,” he returned.

  Oh my God! He just called me a cow!

  “I hate you,” I spat.

  “That feeling, my love, is mutual,” he retorted.

  “Ugh!” I grunted, glared into his face and rolled away from him again.

  There was quiet as I watched the firelight dance on the cave wall in front of me.

  Then he called, “Cora.”

  “What?” I snapped.

  “You’re welcome for dinner and saving your arse from the vickrants.”

  Vickrants?

  What the hell were those?

  Probably they were those things.

  Shit. He had gone out in a thunderstorm to get dinner and he had battled, rather mightily and with great skill and energy, that thing that had me, saving me from disappearing like poor Rosa.

  Shit!

  I gritted my teeth. Then I sucked in breath through my nostrils.

  Then I whispered, “Thank you, Noctorno, for dinner and saving me from the vickrants.”

  I didn’t want to say it but that didn’t mean it didn’t have to be said.

  “Bloody hell,” he whispered back, his voice low and heavy with surprise.

  Whatever.

  I closed my eyes knowing I’d never get to sleep but hoping I did and when I woke up I would be at home.

  Chapter Five

  Terms

  They had me.

  The black, scaly claws were on me, grasping at me, their talons tearing at my nightgown while the thin, veined wings flapped sickeningly. It was pulling me away, pulling me over the balustrade behind Cora and I could hear her shrill, terrified screams mingled with my own.

  I jolted awake and bolted out from under the hides. Darting blindly, I ran into the cold, hard stone wall.

  “Cora.” I heard.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, pressing myself to the hard stone.

  I wasn’t home. Why couldn’t I have woken up at home?

  I closed my eyes and felt the tears slide down my cheeks.

  “Cora.” I heard again and a warm hand was on the small of my back.

  “They almost got me,” I whispered.

  “Cora.”

  “They got Rosa.”

  “Come back to bed.”

  “They took her.”

  “Cora, come back to bed.”

  “They flew away with her and then, poof, she was gone.”

  “You’re trembling. Come back to bed.”

  “Just like that,” I whispered, my nails clawing at the stone. “She was gone.”

  “Cora –”

  Noctorno stopped speaking when my breath hitched loudly with a sob.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered then he picked me up, I slid my arms around his shoulders and shoved my face in his neck as he carried me back to the hides.

  “I wanna go home,” I snuffled into his neck.

  “You can’t,” he told me as he went down to a knee and placed me on the hides but I didn’t let go of his neck, in fact, I clutched him tighter.

  “I don’t like it here,” I told him, my voice held tremors, the tears kept falling.

  “Orlando will be working to –”

  I cut him off by wailing, “I ate Thumper!”

  Then I shoved my face further into his neck and arched into his body.

  “Thumper?”

  I yanked my face out of his neck and stared at him. “A furry bunny! I ate bunny! Bunnies are cute! You don’t eat them!” I cried then pushed my face into his neck, tightened my arms around his shoulders and pressed my body to the solid heat of his.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered, his arms sliding around me as he settled on his side in the hides, his body facing mine, mine pressed tight to his, his arms staying around me.

  “I wanna go home.”

  �
�Let Orlando do his work.”

  “I don’t like it here,” I repeated.

  “Cora, calm yourself,” he ordered on a squeeze of his arms.

  This was good advice and I tried. I took heavy, broken breaths and closed my eyes tight. It took awhile and, along with the tears, it exhausted me so when my sobbing subsided, I was tuckered out.

  But I didn’t let him go. He was real. He was warm. He was strong. He saved me from that thing. He fed me. He took me someplace safe, dry and warm (ish). He was a jerk, he hated me but he was taking care of me. In this strange land, if I didn’t have him, I would be royally screwed (more than I already was, that was).

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” I whispered, pushing closer to his body.

  That body got tight.

  “But I don’t want to eat bunny anymore.” I was still whispering.

  “Fine, Cora, I’ll not hunt bunny anymore,” he sounded slightly amused, slightly surprised and slightly annoyed, a strange combination that worked for him. “Go to sleep,” he said on another squeeze of his arms.

  I pulled in another breath and sleep came closer.

  Then I mumbled, “Pray God, those things don’t harm her.”

  His body again got tight.

  “Pray God,” I repeated softly.

  “Sleep,” his voice rumbled the order.

  “She tra la’ed and danced on her toes. Anyone who tra la’s and dances on their toes shouldn’t be harmed, even by those things. No, especially by those things.”

  “Cora, what did I say?”

  I fell silent.

  Then, on the edge of sleep, I whispered so low it was barely audible, “I hope Aggie’s okay.”

  I felt his arms squeeze one last time before I was dead to the world.

  * * *

  I woke feeling great.

  This feeling didn’t last long because the next feeling that assaulted me was the knowledge that my body was wrapped around the long, hard body of Noctorno. He was on his back, I was nearly on top of him, my thigh thrown over both of his, my head on his chest, my arm tight around him.

  To make matters worse, both his arms were around me too.

  Holy crap.

  My head came up but before I could move away I was imprisoned by his light blue eyes.

  “You didn’t snore,” his voice rumbled sleepily and, might I add, sexily.

  Uh-oh.

  “Um –”

  “Or move.”

  “Uh –”

  “Or steal the covers.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Gods, you cuddled,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

  Oh dear.

  “I –” I started trying to pull away but his arms got tighter so I stopped mostly because his arms were really freaking strong and I had no choice.

  “What’s this now?” he murmured, his glittering, no longer sleepy eyes moving over my face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Seduction?” he asked back.

  Uh. What?

  Then it hit me.

  “No!” I cried. “I –”

  “I can’t imagine you’d be very good at it,” he remarked.

  Oh Lord. I was seeing he was back to the jerk.

  I tugged at his hold and put my hands to his chest to get better leverage.

  This didn’t work.

  “Let me go.”

  “Though,” he carried on, ignoring me, “you put your mind to something…” then he trailed off.

  Oh God.

  “Noctorno, let… me…” I shoved hard, “go!”

  I got nowhere.

  His eyes dropped to my mouth. “I’ve a mind to test your skills.”

  Uh-oh!

  “Let me go!” I repeated.

  He didn’t let me go. His arms separated, one sliding up my back, the other one sliding low on my waist. The hand at my waist slanted down to my hip and his fingers pressed in.

  “You feel better now that there’s more to you. I like the curves. When you were skin and bones…” he trailed off again.

  Great. Just my luck. He liked that I was fat in this world.

  “I’m not going to say it again,” I told him on another shove. “Let me go!”

  His eyes moved back to mine. “Kiss me and I’ll let you go.”

  My body went still.

  Then I shouted, “No!”

  “Can’t even give your husband that,” he muttered, his expression changing from speculative to daunting.

  “Right. I can’t. You’re a jerk and I hate you, remember?” I snapped.

  His arms tightened. “I remember,” he replied. “But that’s not it. You can’t do it.”

  “Can’t do what?”

  “Kiss me.”

  “I can kiss you. I just don’t want to.”

  “I’ll wager you can kiss me, what I mean is, you can’t kiss me the way I’d like it.”

  It was my eyes that narrowed at that.

  I really had no idea if I was a good kisser or not. Brian didn’t seem to mind the way I kissed. In fact, all I had to do was kiss him, give him a good, long, wet one and he was all over me. Then again, he was a guy. Guys didn’t need much and Brian needed less than most (in my, admittedly, not so vast experience).

  “I could kiss you the way you’d like it but I’m not going to,” I returned.

  “Drivel,” he muttered.

  “I could!” I snapped.

  “Not a prayer in this world,” he retorted.

  What a jerk!

  “Why do you even want me to kiss you? You don’t even like me.” I reminded him.

  “Because, my love, I’m a man and most of your soft body has been pressed to me all night, the rest of it wrapped around me. That happens to a man no matter whose body it is.”

  “Nice,” I hissed. “Just the words any girl wants to hear.”

  “They’re true.”

  “I’ll give you that. Now let me go,” I demanded.

  He let me go and started to slide out from under me when I did it. I don’t know why, maybe because I was sick of having a bad rap due to the Cora of this world being a screaming bitch.

  What matters was, I did.

  And I shouldn’t have.

  I really shouldn’t have.

  I lifted a hand to his cheek, moved his head to facing me and I went in for the kill.

  And I didn’t start small. I pulled out all the stops and went all out. I pressed tight to him, my fingers slid into the thick, soft hair at the side of his head, I pressed my lips to his, opened my mouth over his and when his opened under mine, my tongue darted in and Lordy, but he tasted good.

  Sublime.

  Yum!

  That was when I really went all out, pushing close and giving it my all.

  He took it and with a groan his arms closed around me, he rolled me to my back, his big body on mine and he took over.

  Oh man, this was better. Way better.

  He was a jerk but, damn, the man could kiss.

  My fingers slid through his hair to cup the back of his head and my other arm curved around his muscled back just as my leg forced its way out from under him and wrapped around his hip.

  He tasted good, he felt good on me, his body so warm and solid and he could kiss.

  Amazing.

  He tore his mouth from mine and lifted his head an inch. I opened my eyes to see his glittering with a new light as they blazed into mine and I felt his heavy breath mingling with my own.

  Jeez, he was hot and he was even hotter looking turned on.

  “Gods,” he murmured with feeling.

  He had that right.

  “Bloody hell,” he went on.

  He had that right too.

  His eyes roamed my face and I wished they wouldn’t mainly because I was hoping he’d kiss me again.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, his eyes turned to stone and he whispered, “Conniver.”

  I blinked and my skin went cold.

  “Cunning little sc
hemer,” he kept at it and for some reason I suddenly felt like crying.

  “Get off me,” I whispered.

  “You’ll do anything, won’t you, Cora?” he asked.

  “Please,” I said softly, “get off me.”

  “You’d given me that, even a hint of it on our wedding night, my love, I would have given you a better house.”

  Seeing as the house he gave me belonged in a fairytale, I couldn’t imagine what would be better but I didn’t share that mainly because I was concentrating on my stomach muscles contracting because it felt like he’d punched me in the gut.

  Then I shoved at his shoulders, bucked and shrieked, “Get the fuck off me, you asshole!”

  He shifted just enough for me to slide out from under him and gain my feet. I took several hasty steps away then whirled to face him, my mind searching for a stunning set down and finding nothing when I saw him on his side, the hides to his waist, up on a forearm, his magnificent chest on display, his black hair tousled from sleep and his eyes on me.

  Damn, he was sexy as all hell and I wished he was ugly as well as a jerk.

  “Have I mentioned I hated you this morning?” I asked spitefully.

  He grinned.

  Grinned!

  Jerk!

  “Actually, yes,” he answered.

  “Good, I don’t want you to forget,” I returned.

  “Oh, I won’t forget.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Though,” he started, shoving the hides aside and moving lithely to his feet, “you don’t want rabbit for your next meal, you pay the price.”

  Oh no.

  This didn’t sound good.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You don’t like rabbit,” he reminded me.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It was that, even tasty, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking it was gross because I liked bunnies.

  “No,” I said cautiously as he crossed his arms on his chest.

  “You don’t want rabbit, love, then you earn something you want.”

  This definitely didn’t sound good.

  “Perhaps you’ll explain,” I suggested though, truth be told, I didn’t want him to explain.

  He did as I suggested. “A kiss for a meal.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I –”

  “You want anything else, like clothes, you’ll need to get creative.”