A Winter Moon

by S. J. Smith

  Ragnar pulled her back toward his body. She could hear him slicking up his cock and she bent forward on her elbows, bracing for his penetration. She wanted him to take her. Now. He rubbed his cock against her ass and then he was pushing in. “Breathe. In. Out. Bear down Stacie. Now.” Ragnar pushed and thrust into her ass, passing the tight ring of muscle, and she felt her ass relax and let him in. They both moaned. He pushed and stretched her. He was all the way inside her. She was so hot.

  Ragnar reached around her body and slid his hand between her legs. She was startled briefly when he started rubbing her clit. Her exposure to the opposite sex was limited and had been pretty unimaginative. It felt incredible to have him all around her.

  Joshua was watching them intently. Stacie thrust back against Ragnar. He was talking dirty to her in her ear. It was so wicked. It was so hot. He was going to make her come again. He was telling her he wanted to feel her come all over his fingers. Her body tightened and her clit hardened under his frantic frigging. She squeezed her ass around Ragnar and he groaned really loud. “Keep doing that Stacie. Make me come. I want to fill up your ass.” He moaned and thrust faster. She squeezed her ass around him, over and over. Skin slapping. Sweat dripping. Groaning and moaning. Stacie was overloading in sensations. She felt incredible. They both thrust deeply one last time and stopped moving as their bodies exploded in deep, powerful orgasms. Stacie clenched around Ragnar. Ragnar filled her ass with liquid heat. “You’re marked now, by both of us,” Joshua said, from the chair.

  The three of them stayed like that for a long time; Ragnar and Stacie on the bed, Joshua in the chair, watching.. Eventually, Joshua walked over to the bed and climbed in. Ragnar pulled out of Staci’s body. They all slumped down onto the bed. All three of them were naked, Stacie sandwiched in the middle. She had never felt so at peace. She closed her eyes.

  She woke at three in the morning to the sound of a text message arriving on her phone. Joshua and Ragnar were snoring lightly. She was careful not to wake them as she picked up her phone. She entered her passcode, unlocked her screen and read the message. “I know what you did. I saw you leave with those two men. I was right. You are a slut. Michael.”

  She almost dropped her phone. She didn’t even know how Michael had her phone number. She had certainly never given it to him. And he knew that she’d left with Ragnar and Joshua? He’d spied on her? What sort of freak was he? She didn’t know whether to feel enraged, ashamed, upset, all three, or none of them. Her emotions were all over the place.

  But tonight she couldn’t, wouldn’t do anything. It was too perfect.

  She leaned up in bed for a moment after dropping her phone on the carpeted floor of the room. There was something odd about the room. It was pitch dark outside. A moonless, cloudy, rainy night, they were on a top floor without external lights. There were no lights in the room, and the light from her phone had flashed off.

  So how could she see so well?

  The room was brighter than any night should be. It was light, like everything was illuminated by a torch. The outline of the furniture, the television, and the chair Joshua had sat on were all clear. And the details were almost entirely visible, just faintly hazy.

  Terrified and confused, she rolled over, closed her eyes, and buried her head against Joshua’s chest. Here, she told herself, she was safe. Here, nothing strange can happen. Here, I am normal.

  The irony wasn’t lost on her.

  *****

  “You’re turning,” Ragnar said. “Last night probably sped up the process. You had sex with two Drakes, and you are becoming a Queen. Improved eyesight is one of the side effects.”

  Stacie had woken with an almighty headache, as though someone was bashing into her skull, rattling her brain. She felt like any moment she could keel over and vomit. Now she was under the blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I didn’t ask for this,” she said, and then grumbled into the blanket. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Joshua said. “But it’s happening anyway. You have no choice now but to deal with it.”

  Stacie wanted to slap him, but that would have involved leaving her blanketed hideaway. Instead, she seethed silently as the sun tried to cook her brain. She had never felt such an intense reaction to light; not on her skin, on her eyes, or on her back. Her parents had taken her to Spain when she was a girl, in the height of summer, and it hadn’t been this hot then.

  “You need to face it,” Joshua was saying. “It doesn’t last long. About thirty seconds. But that’s if you can face it. If you hide under there, you will be like this for days, slowly adjusting. Just stand up and stare out the window, and the process will be complete. You will be able to—” He paused, searching for a word. “Turn it on and off,” he finished.

  “It won’t always be like this?” she asked.

  “No,” Ragnar said, with a smile in his voice. “It can be over in a minute, if you act now.”

  She found that hard to believe, but the promise was too sweet. Slowly, she lowered the blanket, until her eyes were peeking over the top. She slammed her eyes shut as heat burned into them; like fire set them alight. “Goddamn it!” she spat. “It hurts too much!”

  Then the blanket was being pulled away from her. Joshua loomed over her, his powerful body tense and purposeful. He picked her up and set her down in the middle of the room, facing the window. “Ragnar,” he said. “Open the window.”

  Their voices were dim. Stacie’s entire existence was focused on keeping her eyes closed. Keep your eyes closed. Keep your eyes closed. Keep your eyes closed. That was the beginning and the end of her concerns. She didn’t care about anything else. Then Ragnar opened the curtains, and her eyelids glowed red.

  “Face it,” Joshua said. “Face it, Stacie. Face it, Queen.”

  There was something compelling and inexorable in his voice, like it came straight from an unquestionable authority. She felt that if she ignored his voice, she would be ignoring a part of herself. Suddenly, she was almost lucid, and she understood that they had been honest and the dragon within her was struggling to break free. That was where the pain came from; she was splitting herself in two.

  She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

  The light seared into her, blinded her, and burned deeper into her eyes than any other light ever had. And then something else happened- everything was sharper, clearer, as though the entire world was outlined in crisp flames. She could read the time on someone’s watch on the street below, track the movements of a single bird in a messy flock. Nothing was shut off from her. As Joshua held her, she felt herself bonding to them. It was some kind of metamorphosis, she sensed it. It was like a snake shedding its skin and reemerging, anew. That was how she felt; fresh, new. Clean, like she’d just had a long, hot bath. She walked out onto the balcony and looked over the city. The sun was barely peeping through the snow-white clouds, she now realized.

  Joshua and Ragnar joined her. “Do we have your trust?” Ragnar asked.

  Stacie shook her head. “I believe. Now, that I am some kind of half-scale. But that doesn’t mean I can trust in you entirely, does it? What if I am a dragon, like you say, but you two are not who you say you are?”

  “We are,” Ragnar said.

  “I don’t even know your real name,” Stacie said quietly. “I know Joshua’s name but I don’t know yours.”

  Ragnar gripped the balcony railing and leaned forward, his arms tense, his bare chest reflecting the subtle sunlight. He looked into the distance, as though at a mirage, and then turned back to her. Joshua watched, silent. “It’s hard for me,” he said. “I left behind my whole life, for good reason. My father was a violent man. He would hit anybody for any reason, and his kids weren’t given any special treatment. I remember one day he beat my big brother so bad he lost half his teeth. They were just all over the floor, covered in blood.” He shivered, and his eyes were watery. “He just barked at me ‘drink, now,’ and I ran and got him a beer.” He shook h
is head slowly. “He was a bastard. When the turn took me, I didn’t fight it. I didn’t understand it but I didn’t fight it. I was stronger, faster, and smarter than the old man. I was twelve and I hated my dad and I’d just discovered I could beat him to hell if I wanted.”

  He paused, and looked up at Joshua and Stacie like he’d forgotten they were there.

  “And did you?” Stacie urged

  Ragnar shook his head. “I wanted to, but I was too late. My mum, a quiet mouse of a woman, chose the day I was going to do something, to do something herself. She stabbed him and then—” He coughed back a sob. “And then she did something bad to herself. Anyway,” he went on, and wiped his eyes before speaking, “my name is Daniel Mooney.”

  There was a pause, in which Stacie didn’t know what to say, and then Joshua said, “I think I’ll stick to Ragnar, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Stacie wrapped her arms around Ragnar and hugged him hard. She appreciated his trusting her with his real name.

  She went to work the next day, but it seemed pointless. She felt as though she was inside a marble looking out. There was so much more to be experienced in life, she realized, than what this office had to offer. But she couldn’t just leave, could she? She had responsibilities, after all. She had a life and there was a way of doing things. But all she kept thinking about was Joshua’s animal thrusts and the way Daniel had rubbed her breasts and how she wanted to hold him and never let him go.

  There was another reason for despising work; Fat Michael. He was across the office, stuffing a doughnut into his face. It was almost too perfect. She had to repress an urge to sprint across the office and slap him across the face. The man had stalked her. And what was worse, he didn’t even look ashamed. He just sat there eating his doughnut.

  Stacie felt anger boiling inside, threatening to explode. She thought she might smash him across the face, spit at him, and bite him. She wanted to make him see what he had done was wrong. So she had gone with two men. Was that a crime? Was there a limit on the number of men a woman could have, if everyone involved was happy? Why did this oversized sausage think it was his business?

  Before she really knew what she was doing, Stacie was stalking across the office floor. Heads were turning but she ignored them. It was a short walk to his cubicle due to the small nature of the office and the company wanting to promote team unity with the cramped space. Stacie looked forward to getting this off her chest and then getting the hell out of the company.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” Stacie asked, when she was in front of his desk. “You were spying on me?” She could almost hear everyone’s shock. This wasn’t faux-chirpy Stacie. This was wild Stacie, dragon Stacie, Queen Stacie. The anger was fire-hot and for a moment she thought she might actually breathe fire. “Answer me!” she spat.

  Michael’s fingers trembled and his already red face turned even redder. He looked at the hunk of doughnut in his hand with a mixture of regret and longing, and set it on the desk. “Stacie,” he said, in a barely restrained voice, his fingers trembling even more. “Stacie, please, this is not the place for a discussion like this.”

  Stacie laughed wildly and turned to the staff, which by now had become an audience of eager eyes. “This man waited outside my apartment to see who I met with and what I was doing. That is the truth. If you think that is acceptable behavior, keep being friends with this man. If you think he is a scumbag, shun him as I intend to.”

  “Stacie!” a little girl whined.

  She turned. No, it wasn’t a little girl. It was Fat Michael. “I love you!” he blubbered, his eyes red and puffy. “I’ve loved you ever since you started here. You’re the love of my life. And you don’t have a boyfriend, do you? You never have a boyfriend. I could make you happy. You’d never have to cook or clean or work or do anything. You could just sit around all day and, and…” He wiped snot from his leaking nose. “And just be you.”

  “I already am me, you disgusting old man!” Stacie roared, her voice breaking. She had never been this angry, never in her life. She didn’t think she had ever even been angry at all before, not like this. Right now, all she wanted was to break something, or someone.

  At Stacie’s words, Michael’s face changed completely. It was like a demon invaded his skin. His mouth twisted downward into a snarl, his eyes narrowed into thin slits and his lips peeled back to show bared teeth. “Bitch!” he hissed. “Fucking frigid bitch!”

  “Hey, now,” one of the office women said— Stacie didn’t know her. “She doesn’t want you. Just calm down, eh.”

  “All of you can fuck off!” he roared. “All of you can go fuck yourselves!”

  For a fat man, he was quick on his feet. His hands were on Stacie’s shoulders. Somebody was screaming. “Help! No. No, please, help!” Was it her? She knew she had to get those hands away or something terrible would happen. With her new eyes, she could see the street below, the father and son with matching sneakers jumping in puddles, the dog urinating on somebody’s illegally parked car.

  “Bitch!” Michael roared one more time.

  And then he threw Stacie out the window.

  *****

  She had been flying so high, soaring. She had been higher than she had ever been in her life. Everything had been coming together. There had been nothing in her way, nothing to stop her. She would go up, up, and she would never come down. She was going to be a Queen, a Mistress of Scales. She was going to be something legendary, or at least important.

  But not anymore. A fat old man who loved her had killed her. Time didn’t even seem to slow, not externally. The ground was whooshing toward her at a jolting rate, the cars and people growing bigger and bigger. But in her mind she had all the time in the world to think over her many missed opportunities. Like a chance to fuck those two Drakes again. Yes, please. That would’ve been something worth dying for. Just one more night with the two handsome, muscular, skilled men. Just one more night of untethered pleasure.

  Absently, she wondered how much of a mess she would make when she hit the ground. Who would scour Stacie’s brains from the sidewalk? Would it be the police, or some poor minimum-wage street cleaner? Her dreams had lied to her. She had flown, and now she had to fall. It was the only way.

  She just wished her back would stop itching. It really was irritating.

  Stacie felt her skin burning and then briefly tearing as the wings pierced and burst from her skin. She barely felt it. She was pulsing with adrenaline. Now they spread outward. She could feel each bone of the wings with even more precision than she could feel her own fingers. Every movement of the elongating appendages was alive to her. She could even feel the fine, skin-like material that stretched across them. Something in her screamed. Flap! Flap! She knew who it was. It was the Queen. And yes I am the Queen but I am also not the Queen. I am also somebody else. The Queen and I are the same and yet not the same.

  She was falling, just like her dream had told her she would. But now, she infused her wings with energy. People in the streets below gasped and pointed. She arced upwards, along a skyscraper, toward the clouds. Perhaps it was strange that it didn’t feel strange. But she had done this so many times in her dreams. The only difference now was that it was really happening. She flapped her wings again and again, soaring higher and higher.

  She wasn’t flying anywhere in particular, just away; away from mean, bitter men and small-minded lives. She wanted to soar into another existence. That was when she saw them, coming toward her. She wondered why they were shirtless for a moment until she realized that her shirt had fallen away. Her wings had obliterated them.

  Joshua reached her first. Daniel-Ragnar circled above them. “Follow us,” Joshua shouted, through the wind and the air. “Okay?”

  “Okay!” Stacie shouted in return.

  Joshua dived downward, and Stacie and Daniel followed. It all felt so natural, like flying was her normal mode of transportation and walking was the abnormal part. She followed Joshua closely, weaving
through the clouds. He was leading them away from the city, further and further away until the city was just a mess of gas and clouds and vaguely visible steel structures in the background. They flew over suburbs, over towns, and then they were soaring over an open sky, with only a few cars punctuating the dusty, bare landscape. Her wings were tired, much like when her legs became tired after too much running, but she didn’t want to stop. She wanted to fly with these men, these Drakes, forever.

  Finally, Joshua dove down toward the earth, toward a big mansion-type house. Daniel flew close to her, their wings almost touching. She thought she would be repulsed at that sight; a human man with bat-like wings jutting from his back. But she wasn’t. She liked how strong they looked. They could carry him anywhere. She hoped hers looked that strong soon. Right now, they looked raw and new.

  “Be careful on the landing,” Daniel shouted. He must’ve seen a flicker of worry in her face. “Watch me!”

  She hovered above the ground, flapping her wings steadily, and watched as Daniel slowly lowered himself to the earth with softer and softer flaps. Joshua had already landed, and was standing beside the house watching them. Stacie took a deep breath, her lungs feeling clearer and freer now that she was in the open, away from the city, in wide-open space. Then she began to flap her wings, slowly.

  It was an awkward moment. In the end, she had to let herself drop a few feet. She nearly sprained her ankle, but on the whole she was okay. She walked toward the house, to where Joshua and Daniel stood, and stared at them for a moment. There were no words, at least no words that she was aware of, that could adequately describe the intensity of emotion within her.