10 comments/ 29265 views/ 61 favorites Three Demons By: vulpesa Hello. First submission. Apologies if unsatisfactory. Comments appreciated. * Crunch, pit pat, crunch. Ah. Crunch, pit pat pit pat. Crunch. It was the same rhythm every time. As I strolled down the untouched path in the forest, my dog would take a few quick steps ahead. The forest was typically quiet when I walked my dog, whom I address as Felix by the way. Usually the only sounds that could be heard were my stealthless stomping - credit which is due to my warm but waterproof Eskimo style boots - the quick trotting of Felix, and my quiet panting. I like to think of myself as a strong, athletic girl but there was something about walking through a foot of snow everyday to exercise my dog that just winded me. Why did we have to move to a place with such harsh weather? The question had been circulating in my head for months but never addressed. Tonight was the night to change that. "Because mom couldn't stand city life any longer," I muttered to myself as I continued to maneuver through the soft but bone chillingly cold snow. I found it amusing at first, when my mom decided to move to the chilly countryside in a very vacant location to "purify our minds and souls" as she put it. She was always the frivolous sort, but she'd crossed the line this time. I suppose my frustration was for not, as I'd always been quite the hermit. Going out was a bit of a hassle, since I had my appearance to worry about -- especially at a high end sort of place. Making friends was an annoying activity for me, as everyone seemed so ready to share the first draft of what was seemingly their autobiography. I'd always been an introvert at heart, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to most that I prefer my own company to even my closest companions. It just so happens that the experiences in my life left me a mess. I was now a secluded, antisocial misanthrope who was fully aware of all her flaws but still deemed herself superior to the rest of the cretins inhabiting the planet. It was New Year's Eve, and while mom probably planned on staying up and watching the ball drop on the television, I planned on skipping the ridiculous tradition and getting some rest. I shook my head in disapproval before looking ahead of me. I had no idea where I was. "Damn it," I criticized myself. I whipped my phone out from my pocket and practically ripped the glove off my hand to enter my password. Despite the fact that it was freezing outside, I was warm enough in my hefty winter coat, beanie, thick scarf, and gloves; but my nose felt like Jack Frost was licking it with ice and my thighs were tired from the strenuous walking I'd pushed myself to accomplish. Felix trotted over after pissing near a tree and rubbed his head against my palm like he was trying to comfort me through my plight. I patted his head and affectionately tugged at his ear. "What a sweet boy you are," I praised, scratching at his head. I turned my attention back to my phone. I went to my GPS app but apparently had no service and thus could not be located. I huffed with irritation. I wiped my face with a gloved hand to calm myself and turned around to face the direction from which I'd come and looked at the trail I'd left behind already disappearing under the influence of the currently falling snow. "Again, just why did we have to move here!" I groaned, throwing my hands up in the air frustratedly. Felix just patiently stared at me with his big, brown eyes as I paced back and forth. Dying of hypothermia is now an option, I thought darkly. I shook my head, disregarding the notion. The first step to survival was not cynicism. I lifted up the hood of my coat and fell back to the ground. Felix groaned beside me and I turned my head to smile at him. "Looks like we'll be camping here for the night. I think I'll be fine for the night in my apparel, but I'm not so sure about you with your thin coat. ," I explained. Felix was a black and tan Doberman Pinscher, his coat wasn't built to endure such cold weather. He nudged at my side with his nose when I didn't get up and I gently pushed him away. "Go home," I commanded. He took a few steps back and stared at me. "Go!" I urged him, and he just continued to stare. I turned on my side, away from him, but felt him curl up next to me on the ground. I just didn't want to go home. I'm nineteen for God's sake, my mom shouldn't be part of the home image! Some would agree with my outlook and some would not, but what they didn't realize was the lack of space I had at home. My mother was constantly smothering me or patronizing me or securing her parental authority, which led me to assume that she had some serious issues that she needed to address. I felt oddly comfortable as the snow fell upon my face, like small ice fairies were planting kisses all over my skin. My eyelids grew heavy and I felt myself drifting into a peaceful slumber, even as Felix shivered miserably beside me. "Go...home," I drawled feebly to him. "Felix, you'll...catch...your-" But I was already gone, consumed by the blackness of sleep. I woke, briefly, to hear Felix growling. I opened my eyes a smidge, though even that was difficult, and saw an enormous figure of white looming before me. My eyes lazily trailed up the form but I was unconscious before I could see the head and face of the mysterious being. I woke again, this time with a start to the crackling of a fire. I looked around with confusion as I now seemed to be in a log cabin of sorts. I was in a decent sized room, in a wooden twin bed, covered in heaps of wool blanket. The brick fireplace a few feet from the end of my bed housing a roaring, and frankly noisy, fire. I sighed heavily and stretched -- what a comfy bed this was. I rubbed at my eyes and looked around once more. The room was minimally decorated and seemed to house only furniture that was necessary; a bed, an end table, and a dresser. The end table hadn't a lap, but a thick white candle on a candlestick with a box of matches beside it. In the fire light I couldn't even see any electrical outlets or light switches. There was a door to what I assumed was a closet next to the fireplace, upon which rested a hook, holding my scarf and hat. Beside the dresser were my boots, glistening with still melting snow in the light. There was a window above the bed and I slipped out from under the covers to sit on my knees at the window sill and look out, where it seemed a blizzard was brewing. I looked at my hands on the window sill and saw the sleeve ends of my sweater and looked at my torso, relieved to see that I was still in my clothes. Whoever had brought me here seemed decent enough by the looks of things. I heard footsteps outside the bedroom door, before there was a tentative knock. "Come in," I called. The knob twisted and the door opened to reveal a red fox. "What," I couldn't help but blurt. The fox rushed toward me and I just stared at it with wide eyes in shock as it jumped onto the bed before me. I sat back on my knees facing it and it placed both its paws on my lap and looked up at me with the sweetest doe brown eyes I'd ever seen. It rubbed it's head against my arm and licked my hand, his ears twitching adorably. I slowly reached out my hand and held it before the fox's nose, he sniffed and licked it once more, granting me permission to pet him. And so I did, scratching at his ears as he closed his eyes and relished the contact. I moved my hand down his hide and, when I felt comfortable, slightly tugged at the length of his tail. The fox released a sound that reminded me of a throaty chuckle and when I looked at its face, it was staring at me intently. I diverted my eyes to his red, lush fur briefly before reverting them back to his face which held an almost studious expression. "You're a very attractive thing, you know that?" I said, my face breaking into a grin when he brushed at his eyes with a black paw. "I always wanted a fox or wolf as a companion, they're such beautiful creatures. But the only canine I could get my hands on was my Doberman, Felix. He's lovely as well, just in a different way," I rambled, "Fact, I wonder where he is..." I got up from the bed and heard the fox produce a sound that was similar to a groan and while I found it amusing, I also found it strange. Foxes produced much higher pitched sounds than what I'd heard this fox make. I walked to the doorway, then turned to look at him, resting on his front on the bed with his tail swishing at my attention. How peculiar for a fox to be this tame. It wasn't unheard of for people to have foxes as pets, but having lived in the city suburbs for most of my life it was foreign to me. I walked into what looked to be the living area. There was a large fireplace, much larger than the fireplace in the room I'd woken up in, surrounded by various woodsy furniture and a large television mounted about a foot above the mantel. As I walked closer I saw a cat resting on one of the couches. It had black, short hair and bright green eyes. Whoever lives here has very attractive pets, I thought. Where is the guy anyway? The cat stood suddenly, ran towards me and jumped at me, unsheathing it's claws. I gasped and tried to move out of the way but bumped into an end table which trapped me. The cat held onto my jeans and though I felt the tips of it's claws, I felt no pain just slight pressure. There was a ripping of my pants however. The cat attacked again, this time ripping my sweater straight down the front, exposing my chest. I grabbed the torn fabric and, wrapping it over my skin, harshly pushed the cat away with my foot. The cat jumped back to avoid the kick and meowed in what seemed an almost cheeky fashion. I walked back to my bedroom to see the fox rolling around in my sheets happily as the cat casually followed me. I looked in the dresser and found a rather large gray sweater that looked as though it would fit a masculine frame better than a feminine one. I shrugged out of my now ruined garment and set it on top of the dresser. I pulled out the gray sweater and turned around to see both the cat and the fox sitting side by side on the bed, watching me intently with both of their tails wagging. It was an odd sight. I shook my head to try and ignore it and I slipped the sweater over my head and onto my body as I walked out of the room. I heard both animals jump off the bed and follow me. I went to the kitchen and was happy to find a room with working water and electricity. Was my room the only one without modern technology? Why would someone build a home that way? I turned on the cold water and looked through the cabinets until I found the cups. I grabbed a glass and filled it up with water before gulping it down. As I finished the last of the liquid, I turned and leaned against the counter. The fox and cat sat before me on the floor, watching me expectantly. "Are you two hungry or something?" I asked. They both produced noises which sounded strangely like laughter. I stared wide eyed and puzzled. Its just your imagination, Freya. Just your imagination, I assured myself. I set the cup near the sink faucet, like I did at home, instead of within the sink in case I got thirsty later on and walked to the living room. The huge television mounted on the wall above the fire place was sure to keep me occupied so I found the remote and turned it on. I laid down on the couch opposite to the wall and hit the Guide button. Surprisingly they had premium channels and I smiled happily, turning on Some Like it Hot. The time on the DVR read that it was one in the morning or so and I still felt a little tired. The fox sat on an arm chair and the cat lounged on the couch adjacent to mine. Half way through the film I felt myself drifting and closed my eyes. I felt something sit beside me on the couch that felt like a large animal. "There you are, Felix. I was wondering where you might be, love," I cooed sleepily. I smiled and reached out my hand to touch Felix, but couldn't grasp him feeling only my leg which was now covered in a blanket. Funny, I hadn't remembered covering myself. But the thought wasn't important, not when sleep called to me so irresistibly. I was falling further and further into unconsciousness, and just before I was gone I heard a deep and soothing voice say, "Sleep well, Freya." Three Demons Ch. 02 I appreciated the comments and feedback on the first chapter more than you all could possibly imagine! I ask for the same responsive nature in my readers with this chapter as well. * * * I woke to the feeling of something nuzzling my neck and licking at the skin. I giggled and tried to ignore the way my body responded to the touch. My neck had always been a sensitive spot of mine. "Felix, stop it," I happily groaned. The licking didn't stop. To add to the torture, he started nibbling. Tiny, harmless bites that made me ticklish. I burst out in giggles and finally opened my eyes - it wasn't Felix's form hovering over me, but a man's. The man had brownish red hair and what felt like a beard. I froze and tensed as the man raised his head and my gaze finally met his. Uncanny doe brown eyes stared at me. "Sorry, love," he whispered with an almost bashful smile, exposing cheek dimples. "You just wouldn't wake up. This was a last resort." We stayed like that for a moment, staring into each others eyes. I was still stuck in place, shocked at the scenario and unsure how to react. I felt fear rise within me at the audacity of the man, how he felt no social boundaries. A strange man so very present in my very personal space - even licking me! But his eyes had such a sincere look to them and I felt no malice in the gaze. His straight and picturesque nose twitched slightly, and I wondered if he might be sniffing me. His mouth tightened into a line, his dimples denting his cheeks. He had a strong jaw and pointed chin covered in blonde stubble. His light brown eyebrows furrowed in worry. He batted his eyes at me calling them and their blonde eyelashes once more to my attention. I placed both my hands on his chest cautiously. His face seemed to relax but his nervous brown eyes held a more intense look to them now. I pushed at his chest harshly and he got off, slightly frowning and sighing with what was unmistakeably disappointment as he made his way to the arm chair and slumped into it. I sat up immediately and heard a chuckle from behind me. My head snapped in the direction of the sound and I saw another man, this one was a little paler than the other one. He had glossy black hair that was short and heavily styled, but in a way that complimented him. He held a large tray of food which he focused on. He was tall, but had a thinner build. His muscles were toned but very lean. He had a full set of lashes that stretched over his cheeks as he looked down at the coffee table before me and set the tray upon it. He looked straight at me as he did and I held my breath when I saw his brilliant, twinkling green eyes. He raised an eyebrow at me, which I noticed were well groomed. His cheekbones were high and shallow, he had a straight nose with a wide bridge, as well as a fairly squared jaw line. He was clean shaven and had supple lips which stretched into a flirtatious smile as he winked at me and walked to the couch adjacent to the one I was seated on. I stared at him for a moment as he lounged on the couch, stretching out his long legs and put his hands behind his head. He was wearing a tight navy dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the pocket and sleeve ends had gray trim. He also wore a pair of gray jeans that fit him very well with dark brown dress shoes. His look was very polished and everything he wore screamed designer. I dragged my eyes away from his form to look at the red head. Even sitting down he looked tall but about the same height as the one with black hair. I could tell that he was a little bigger in build than the one with black hair but not overly bulky. He was wearing a light gray Henley shirt that exposed his neck and collar bone beautifully. I could already see the start of his muscles around his neck which undoubtedly stretched into his broad shoulders. I always liked the way Henley shirts seemed to exhibit the muscles of the man wearing them and this man was no exception. The sleeves were long but pushed up to his elbows and the dark jeans he wore fit him just as nicely as his top. His legs were longer than his torso and dark brown suede boots were on his feet. He had a bracelet on his right wrist that had an intricate weave pattern with a few dark, shiny beads. My eyes trailed back up his form and my eyes shifted between them a few more times before I finally fixed my gaze on the tray of food before me. I blinked a few times as I took in the large meal. There was a small vase which housed a singular pink rose in full bloom, parallel to a glass of orange juice accompanying a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and hash brown. There was another plate next to it with two pancakes and a bit of butter, smothered in maple syrup. There was also a fork and knife neatly placed to the right on top of a napkin. I swallowed nervously. "Aren't you hungry?" asked the black haired one to my right. My eyes shot up to look at him where he watched me with expectation. "I'm-" I blurted nervously. "I don't know if I'd be able to finish it all," I explained, eying the pancakes warily. I never have been a fan of anything too sweet. Beside that, my upbringing made me feel obligated to finish everything that was offered to me out of respect but I was too nervous to feel hungry. "That's totally fine. You don't have to push yourself to eat more than you want to. And if it's disgusting just let Erik know. A little criticism would be good for him," the red headed one said, gesturing toward the black haired one - Erik. "As much as Oliver likes to tease me," Erik began, flashing the red head - Oliver - a smile while his eyes sparked at the challenge. "I'm sure you'll like it. I swear I'm not a bad cook." I bit my bottom lip, still a little nervous. The introductions and generally easygoing nature that these two had calmed me down a little but I still felt...shy. I wasn't an insecure girl but there was something about being catered to by two very attractive young men that made me more aware of everything I did and even a little embarrassed by the bed head I was sure I had. I picked up the knife and fork and started to cut into the eggs, slipping a cubed cut of egg into my mouth and chewing slowly. I looked up at Erik and smiled, the food wasn't half bad. He smiled back, seeming genuinely pleased that I liked the meal and turned to face Oliver. They were talking but it was all white noise to me as my mind raged with internal monologue. What was going to happen after I finished breakfast? Were they going to ask me where I live and drop me off or would I have to call my mom and have her pick me up? I winced. Not looking forward to that, I thought. I didn't want to have to explain this to my mom. It wasn't like me to not come home. In fact, it wasn't like me to leave the house in general. I only went outside to walk Felix or pick up groceries in town but never anything more. I didn't even have friends to hang out with; so leaving one evening and coming back the next morning would not only be out of character, but probably earn me a lecture from my controlling mother. I looked down at the food before me and thought about how I should eat it. I was genuinely worried that Erik would think I didn't appreciate the meal he prepared for me. I'd never had a homemade meal prepared for me, solely, from someone who wasn't in my immediate family and I was grateful for the effort. I knew I'd prefer to eat the eggs and hash brown, perhaps half a strip of bacon, but I didn't want the juice or pancakes. Should I just suck it up and eat a bit of everything so it gave off the impression that I liked everything but didn't finish because I was full? The anxiety started to well within me and I was reminded of the exact reason why I didn't like social interaction. I was generally charismatic around adults, the elderly, and people of authority - but there was something about talking to men around my age who I found attractive. When anxiety sparks within me, my reaction is to go stoic. I stop caring and am completely void of emotion within the moment, which is a positive effect as it gives me what I need to fake interest and confidence until the activity is over. But around those I find attractive or interesting, there is a genuine sense of fear that they might not approve of me. I was loath of the feeling. I steeled my nerves and gathered every bit of confidence I could muster. I won't lie. I don't like pancakes or orange juice so I won't have any, I told myself. I nodded, if only to myself, and finished the eggs, hash brown, and as much bacon as I could eat before I was full. I exhaled deeply and sat back on the couch, my hand resting on my stomach without me realizing it. "How was it?" Erik asked. I looked up and his face was just inches from mine. I stiffened, having been startled, and quickly relaxed. I hadn't even seen him coming! "Delicious," I replied with a quaint smile. That was an exaggeration, but I needed to be polite, "Thank you." "No problem, sweetheart," he responded. The pet name made me flush. I looked down to hide my embarrassment. When I looked back up, Erik had this intense look in his eyes as they slowly went up and down my form. When his eyes returned to my gaze, he gave me a sultry smile that didn't reach his heated eyes. "So, what's your name?" Oliver asked. I jumped and looked at him. I'd been so focused on Erik and his flirting that Oliver's question had startled. "I'm sorry?" I asked. "We introduced ourselves earlier, but you forgot to do the same," Erik said, his voice low and dangerous and...seductive. My eyes slowly made their way to his form. He pushed the tray out of the way and sat on the coffee table, leaning back on his hands. My throat was suddenly as dry as a desert. "F-Fre-" I tried to say, but my voice broke. I turned my attention to Oliver, as Erik was too distracting with all those innuendos written on his face. I cleared my throat, louder than I would've liked, and tried again. "Freya! There we go," I smiled and let out a nervous laugh. Oliver smiled with obvious amusement, though there was sympathy in his eyes. I felt my cheeks heat and averted my gaze to the floor. I'm making a fool of myself, I thought mournfully. "Did you not like the pancakes?" Oliver asked, calmly. I looked up at him and smiled, thankful he'd changed the subject. "I'm sure they're delicious, but I've never been big on sweets," I explained. "Do you prefer salty or savory meals then?" Erik asked. I was about to answer right off the bat when I realized he was making a joke. There was obvious intent in his words and a gleam in his eye that exposed the taunt in the statement. I was silent, feeling too spiteful to respond. "I think you like it salty," he murmured with a predatory grin. I narrowed my eyes at him. Oliver cleared his throat and stood at once. "Erik, could you check on the dog please? See if he's hungry?" He asked with an authoritative edge in his voice. "Yes, sir," Erik said quietly, his eyes still on me. We maintained eye contact as he rose and until he had walked past the living area. Oliver and I were still until I heard the front door shut. "I'm awfully sorry," Oliver blurted, "That's just how he is. I swear its not because of you, and I'm sure he means no disrespect." He fidgeted and twiddled his thumbs. His lovely eyes grew large and his brow knitted with worry . Poor thing, I thought. I felt bad about him worrying so much but it was still nice to hear an apology. "No need to apologize," I said, sincerely. "Quick question though," he nodded, "Do you know where my phone might be?" "I think it's in your coat pocket," he replied. "You probably want to call your parents, right?" he asked. I winced. Ouch. He just plainly asked if I wanted to call my parents, like it was normal. Did I look like a child to him? I didn't know why it bothered me so much, but it did. "Yeah." "Go ahead, I don't mind," he said with a smile. I got up from the couch and headed to the room I'd slept in the night before. I was about to pass him when he said, "You've got something on your cheek." "Oh," I said, touching my face, "What is it? Food?" "Its," he said, the word soaked in hesitation, "It's drool, probably from when you were asleep." His face twisted with sympathy and his tone was apologetic. I looked down in shame and was about to walk on when he took my hand and ushered me to the bathroom. He took hold of a small towel from a linen closet on the way there and wet it in the sink. "This really is unnecessary," I protested. He started rubbing the soaked towel over my face anyway, washing it. Again he was overstepping boundaries, but I began to realize that that might be his way of doing things. "When you told Erik to check on 'the dog,' were you talking about my dog? Felix?" I asked. Oliver set the towel down on the edge of the sink and looked at me, his mouth twisting into a tight smile. "Exactly," he responded. "Well, where is he?" I asked. "We kept him in the shed overnight," he responded. At my incredulous look his eyes widened in fright and he started explaining, "He was a little violent with us. He attacked Everett-" "Everett?" I interrupted. "You'll meet him in a second, he'll be home any minute now. He was actually the one who found you. When he tried to pick you up, your dog - Felix - attacked him," he continued. "Oh," I said. "I'm sorry," I began, "You can't really blame him for misunderstanding, dogs are very loyal and protective creatures. I hope Everett wasn't hurt." "Oh, no," he said with a laugh. As if the very thought was inconceivable. "That's good," I contributed, trying to avoid an awkward silence. It seemed there was no avoiding it though, as we both stood silently fidgeting, neither sure how to continue. "Can I ask you something?" he asked. "Sure." "Everett said he found you asleep in the middle of the forest," he paused just after he said it, looking at me expectantly. "I was lost," I explained. "We figured as much, but we couldn't understand why you'd fallen asleep," he countered. "I was exhausted," I squeaked, feeling the pressure of his interrogation. "From trying to find your way back?" he asked with a sense of confidence, as if he'd finally cracked the case. I swallowed. "Not exactly," I replied. He didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at me with a puzzled stare. I didn't try to explain myself and instead looked at the floor with conviction, as if it would have the answers. I heard him inhale, words lingering on his lips, but just before he could form them into another one of his questions I so desperately wanted to avoid, I heard the door open loudly and a deep voice boom, "I'm home! Ollie, where are you?" "In the bathroom, give me a minute," called Oliver, turning his head to the doorway. He exposed his neck and I saw the muscle and vein strain beneath the skin. He turned to me and said, "That's Everett. Come on, you can meet him." We made our way back to the living room and laid my eyes upon the infamous Everett, more than anyone he deserved my thanks as he'd been the one to find me and bring me back here. He was enormous. I'm sure he was over six feet as he towered over me at my unimpressive five feet and four inches. His hair was long and a white blond in color, but cut in a frankly messy fashion. It was shaggy, layered, and choppy. The end was braided and tied with a black hair band. His skin was tanned from undoubted sun exposure, his cheeks burned red from the chill outside, and his eyes were a golden hue of hazel. His almost white eyebrows were thick enough to give off some definition and the light dusting of white stubble on his strong jaw and pointed chin made him look like, well, a man. He had a straight nose, though it wasn't as delicate as Oliver's. His overall appearance was that of ruggedness though he had an honest nature about him that had me assuming he was sweet. "Hello, doll," he said to me with a smile as he slipped out of his jacket to reveal his powerful, packing body contained in a flannel shirt, a pair or worn out jeans, and working boots. He took two stocky steps toward me and stopped when he was just inches from pressing up against me. I looked up at him looking down at me with a glow in his eyes. Must be a trick of the light, I thought. "You're Everett, are you," I said with a smirk. "That I am, miss," he replied, a wolfish grin forming on his lips. "My name's Freya," I informed him. He simply smiled at me, the golden glow in his eyes swirling as if he knew something I didn't. I squinted my eyes and tried focusing on his eyes, that glow was too consistent. He blinked and it was gone. Must've been my imagination, I thought. I relaxed and held my hand out before him, he looked at it quizzically. "Thank you for, I suppose, rescuing me. I'm very grateful for your help," I said, sincerely. He slowly took hold of my hand with one of his, before cupping it in the other one as well. He ran his fingers over my skin, sending heat waves up my body at the light touch. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and bit my tongue to keep from producing any embarrassing sounds. He looked at me with that same knowing gaze, the smile exposing the laugh lines I hadn't noticed before. He released my hand from between his startlingly large ones and said, "My pleasure." The tone was deep and so soothing I relaxed in an instant. But more than that, it was almost familiar. He suddenly turned and grabbed a plastic bag from the couch, handing it to me. I held it close to my person. "It's some things I thought you might want. I know most girls like to feel clean," He offered as an explanation. I looked in the bag and saw sample sizes of toothpaste and deodorant. As well as a travel sized toothbrush and hair brush. "Thank you," I said, looking back up at him. He shrugged as if it were nothing and nodded toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. "As soon as you're ready we'll head out and get you home," Oliver chimed once I'd reached the bathroom's door way. I stepped in and closed the door, locking it behind me. I turned and leaned against it, exhaling with both dread and relief. I was happy to be going home, even if I had to endure a lecture when I got there, but oddly felt sad that I was going back as well and I didn't know why. I'd better get cleaned up, I thought. No use in stalling the inevitable. Three Demons Ch. 03 Thanks to all who commented on the last chapter, the encouragement was well appreciated. Keep up the comments and sorry for the wait! * * * I looked straight ahead at the shower with it's glass door and the toilet and eventually the sink. The shower had rectangular cuts of white stone with gray streaks lining the walls, a rain shower head suspended from the ceiling. The built-in shelving holding no soaps or sponges of any kind. The toilet looked modern, clean, even new. The dark brown vanity had a raised, square sink that was fairly large with a practical, if expensive, looking faucet - next to which was a black, metallic soap bottle and a matching toothbrush holder holding zero toothbrushes. This bathroom looked like if belonged in a showroom, and felt odd when compared to the homey feel of the living room's theme with it's woodsy furniture. I preferred this room out of the one's I had seen. It looked so easy to clean, so precise. Made perfect to ease my OCD tendencies, I thought. So why there weren't any personal effects, I couldn't understand. It bothered me how this room was unused, mainly because I wanted to sort through what property of these gorgeous men I could get my hands on. I was about to leave for home and probably never see them again, I needed something nostalgic to attach with the memory of them. Perhaps sniffing their body wash into oblivion would satisfy me. I chuckled. God, look at me. I'm developing psychopathic tendencies, I thought lightheartedly. What was I doing again? Oh yes, getting dressed to leave these incredibly attractive and hospitable men. I turned to the mirror above the sink and winced. I looked absolutely horrid. My pale skin looked more washed out then usual and my sunken in gray eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. My naturally arched and defined eyebrows had so much promise and gave my face such definition when they weren't in their current unruly and under plucked state. My nose was defined and my cheekbones were high, my lips rosy and supple and...dry, horribly dry. I licked them immediately which did absolutely nothing except make them look cracked and wet. My gaze continued to stray down my reflection, skimming over my neck and my shoulders. My eyes shot back up to stare straight ahead. I didn't even want to address the imperfections of my body this early in the day. I looked at my messy, oily hair. "Shit," I muttered. I should have washed it last night. There's was no fixing this within the few minutes of time I was allotted before I was expected back to be driven home. I set the plastic bag of toiletry items Everett had bestowed me upon the vanity's countertop. I rummaged through it, placing each item on the glossy granite and crumpling up the bag before setting it as far from the sink as I could. I washed my face before brushing my teeth. I tried to do as much as I could with my dirt brown hair before lifting up my shirt just enough to coat my pits in deodorant. I looked at myself cleaned up a bit and sighed. The after wasn't much improvement from the before, but it'd have to do. I put the items back in the bag and walked out. Everett was waiting by the door, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on the bright screen emanating from the large phone which looked tiny in his hands. He was wearing the jacket he'd taken off earlier which barely concealed his powerful arms and chest from my view. I can only imagine what his body looks like nude, I thought with longing as a pouted lip distorted my face into a frown. I didn't know what had come over me. When I saw attractive men, I just recognized how beautiful they were and hopefully avoided interacting with them. Being around too many of these foreign creatures in such close quarters for extended periods of time was turning me into a leech. I shook my head as if to dispel the thoughts and headed for the bedroom within which I had slept the night prior. I headed in to find the bed made, proving that these men were even tidier than I was with my micromanaging tendencies - an odd fact to process. I found my personal artifacts where they had been last night; my boots still next to the dresser, though they were dry now, my hat and scarf still hanging on the door. I opened the closet door and was pleased to see my brown coat suspended on a wooden hanger, with the ends of my red gloves poking out of a pocket. I checked the other pocket for my phone and, sure enough, it was there just as Oliver had predicted. Seeing as how a large and undoubtedly warm man like Everett needed a jacket and I had the tendency to freeze in temperatures under fifty degrees, which was the summer climate of my region of residency, I opted for dawning the apparel. I held the now folded scarf and beanie in my hands after putting on my boots and walking to the front door. Everett looked at me and a smile broke his face in two, teeth and all. The smile exposed his enlarged canines, a physical trait which was more common in men and something I was definitely attracted to. Once I stood beside him, that silly expression fixated on his face locking my eyes to his, he opened the door and stood aside. "After you," he said, his tone purped up. Like driving me home and never seeing me again was the most exciting thing he got to do all day. I walked past the doorway, down the steps and pavement, which to my pleasure were devoid of ice and snow but covered in rock salt. I headed to the driveway where a black Chevy suburban was parked, Erik leaning on the doors with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face. I blinked as my vision ran up and down his lean body, so lithe and almost feline in movement and manner. I smirked at the image of him with a tail and whiskers. How silly, I thought with a smile. Once I reached him I said, "So where's my dog?" "In a cage, in the back," he replied, smugness evaporating from his pretty face. I chuckled at that. "Do you all just have large cages lying around?" I asked, incredulously. "You'd be surprised what animals we have walking around here," he said, low and mysteriously. His smile returned, an all too predatory one with one side of it almost smirking at me. His eyes glittered with that same glow I thought I'd seen in Everett's eyes earlier. Speaking of the man, I heard Everett's loud stomping as he caught up with me. "We borrowed it from a friend," Everett practically growled. The tone of his voice startled me, my eyes jumping to his form. He had a stern look on his face as he eyed Erik, the gaze screaming warning. "We ought to head out," he muttered. And though the words were pieced together as if it were a suggestion, his manner and tone made it a solid command. He walked around the nose of the vehicle, heading toward the driver's side and slamming the door shut after he got in. I looked to Erik questioningly, but he just sighed and reached into his pocket to shove out a pack of cigarettes. He popped the top and offered it to me. "Want one?" he asked. I looked at him, mouth gaping and eyes widened - didn't expect him to be a smoker, but I suppose assuming things of him when I barely knew the guy was bad on my part. "No thanks, I-I don't smoke," I replied. He shrugged and popped one between his lips, slipping his hand back in his pants to rummage for, I'm guessing, a lighter. I know this sounds silly but there was something so cool about him when that piece of rolled up lung cancer was trapped between those luscious lips of his. His mouth went slack and he breathed around the cigarette and I saw the edge of his teeth and the tip of a canine tooth. He seemed to have finally found that elusive lighter of his but as he brought it to the end of the cigarette, it wouldn't light no matter what he did. The car horn honked loudly and I was broken out of my reverie. Erik put the lighter back in his pocket and slipped the cigarette behind his ear. "Seems we're in a hurry," he said, like this was all some big joke. The apathy, the mocking tone, the all too sexual flirting and innuendos. It reminded me of a part of myself, one that I wanted to be but couldn't put out there when all the authoritative forces of my life caged me. He didn't seem to care about one thing and it made him seem like the type of person that could pack up his things and leave without a care in the world for what he was leaving behind. I wanted to be like that. He opened the door to the backseat and I followed suit with the passenger door, both of us getting in. "Trying to take a smoke break?" Oliver quipped, I saw him sitting in the seat behind Everett who was behind the wheel. "Yes, till Everett honked." "It was taking too long, Erik. I'm sure Freya wants to get home as soon as possible after meeting our lot," he said with smile, his golden eyes on me. "No, I'm fine. But my mom," I began. I couldn't finish what I was saying because I heard a loud growl coming from the back, presumably my dog, and it was bothersome. "Sorry about that," I said, my eyes meeting each of their's in turn to express the sincerity of my words. "It's fine, he's probably just grumpy. He wants you home more than anybody right now, it seems," Oliver said with a laugh. I smiled at him and he smiled back, there was brilliance in his eyes like he felt pure bliss at my expression. I turned back to the front and trying to ignore the burning of my cheeks. I was never this nervous, what was wrong with me? "So where are we headed?" Everett asked. "I live on Cedar Road. Near the country shop and probably the only grocery store in town," I replied. There was silence. I looked at him and he was hitting the gas. We headed out. The drive was silent, but the silence wasn't awkward. It was blissful and comforting. I enjoyed their presence, oddly, and throughout the ride I thought of how nice it would be if I kept in touch with them - but I had to be realistic. I was just some teenage girl, a mere child in their eyes, who they felt obligated to rescue because I didn't have the brains to keep myself out of trouble. I could have made my way back if I wanted to but I didn't, there was no reason to go back and almost every reason to stay away. But I didn't want to think about that now. As I saw the arctic wasteland that was my home, impressed by Everett's driving skill the longer we drove without swerving from all the ice on the roads, I started to relax more and more. Going home didn't seem so scary anymore, not when I had these three with me. My mom would see me with these three and she'd be too worried about embarrassing herself in front of other people that she'd control herself around me until they left. Once they were gone, I'd be fine. My highest priority at that moment was to make sure they didn't know the exact reason why I didn't find my way back home last night. started to doze, one sentence repeating in my mind to a chant. It'll be okay, you'll be alright. And then the car stopped. Everett cut the engine and got out. I heard one of the back doors open and close. "You alright, sleepy head?" Erik asked. I could hear him smiling, by his tone. I rubbed at my eyes a little bit, they hurt when I tried to keep them open for longer than a second. I swallowed the spit that had accumulated in my mouth while I napped. "Fine," I rasped, my voice breathier than I had intended. He said nothing, so I assured myself he hadn't noticed/minded the texture of my tone. I looked out the window and saw the rundown shack I called home. I opened the door and, as I was stepping out from the car, I heard Erik wish me goodbye. I turned to his window and smiled, the glass was tinted and I couldn't make him out but I was sure he saw me. I head the trunk door of the car shut, Everett holding the cage carrying a growling Felix and Oliver accompanying them. I turned back to the house and swallowed. They followed me to the door, I knocked a few times but there was no answer. I started pounding on the door with my closed fist and could feel the surprise from the men behind me. I heard muffled shouting, then the bolts and chains coming loose from behind the door. "The fuck d'ya want?" My mom shouted, once she'd opened the door. She looked at me. "Hey, where you been? Huh!" She leaned in aggressively, revealing the almost empty bottle of whiskey in her hand, her breath reeking of alcohol. I closed my eyes and let the shame wash over me. My hopes of her being civilized in front of them had been shattered thanks to some asshole named Jack Daniels. "Hey!" She shouted, some of her spit flying and hitting my face. I opened my eyes, already filling up with tears. "Who are you, honey?" She asked, her eyes moving between Oliver and Everett a few times, making it unclear whom she'd asked the question. I heard Oliver exhale quietly which just made everything so much worse. But fuck them and the assumptions and judgments I was sure they had at this point. She'd ruined whatever I might've had going on with them, but that wasn't saying much in the first place. I broke out that authoritative tone I always used when my mom got out of hand. "Go inside, mom," I said. She looked at me and scoffed. "Don't you use that tone with me, you little who-" She began. I cut her off. "I want to help you with whatever you need. Go in, I'll follow you in a moment. I just need to get Felix and these guys settled." She looked confused but thankfully started to turn around and headed inside. I turned around to see both of them looking shocked, eyes widened and mouths slack - the whole thing. My eyes started to tear up but I looked at the ground and willed them gone, steeling my nerves with a deep breath. I looked back up at them with a smile. "So that's that. Thanks again for your help," I opened the cage door, Felix jumped out. "Inside," I demanded. Felix scampered inside before he even got the chance to growl again. I closed the cage door. "See you around," I said without looking at either of them, instead heading inside and quickly shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the wall and slid to the ground. My mom was laying on the couch, holding the bottle in her hand, the contents dripping onto the already soaked carpet. I winced and whatever emotions I'd withheld till now were let loose. I cried because I felt sorry for myself, for my misfortune of having been born to this particular woman on this particular universe in this particular time period. Everything seemed like the wrong time, wrong situation. Felix trotted over with his head bowed. He nudged at my jaw with his nose and licked at my neck. It just made me sob harder but I immediately and uncontrollably hugged him and he stood still and let me. "We'll be okay," I whispered as my tears soaked his hide and sniffled. Three Demons Ch. 04 Hello readers! Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter, I tried to make this one longer than the others as per request. Keep letting me know what you think, it's very helpful! * * * After a few minutes I let go of Felix and he took a few steps back to give me some air. It wasn't surprising for him to act this way, scenes such as this were the norm in my house and Felix had adapted; finding a niche that was helpful to me in the current circumstances. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall, taking slow deep breaths in an effort to calm myself down. My eyebrows furrowed and my body tensed the more I thought about what must be done. I couldn't just sit there and feel sorry for myself, it got worse the more time passed. I exhaled sharply and opened my eyes. There she was, snoring on the couch. Her shoulder-length honey blonde hair dirty, the mascara and eyeliner she wore smudged, her lipstick washed out looking. Her mouth was open and she was drooling on the sofa cushion, wearing nothing but a cheap silk kimono and a pair of pink slippers. Even in her sleep, she gripped the near empty bottle of whiskey in her hand like it was life itself. It was staining the carpet. I sat on the floor and stared at the opening of the glass bottle and watched each drop fall and shatter onto the carpet, the amber puddle on the rug growing at a gradual rate. As I watched, frozen in place as if the liquid had shackled me in place, I felt the anxiety within me build. I threw off my coat, stomped toward the broom closet and grabbed the towel hanging off the oven's door handle in the kitchen. I rushed toward the couch and, with great difficulty, wrenched the bottle from my mother's vice-like grip. I set it down on the ground and began to pat at the wet spot on the rug with the towel. I scrubbed at the spot with a small cleaning brush that I'd doused in carpet cleaner. Once the carpet was looking clean and simply needed to dry, I put the cleaning supplies away and threw the dirtied towel in a laundry basket. I walked back to that same spot to grab the bottle from the floor to throw it away, but when I did I couldn't help but stop and stare at her. My mind was whirling with a thousand thoughts, all seeking limelight within my brain, and what spilled out of my mouth before I had any control to stop myself was, "You're a God damn disgrace." The words were dripping with the heartbreak and disappointment I had bottled up and it was all I would indulge myself. I looked away and stood statuesque for a moment as I processed what I'd just said, before walking to the back of the house to throw the bottle away in the garage. When I came back I decided to wake her enough to get her walking up the steps to her room where I deposited her on her bed, just the sight of her was upsetting me. I closed the door to her room and headed back downstairs to see that Felix had taken her spot on the couch, his pretty brown eyes looking at me with what I could only label as worry. So expressive, I thought, with a smile lurking on the corners of my mouth. He made the fox and cat from before seem less abnormal. I perked up suddenly. I forgot to ask them about their weird pets. But then I shook my head, realizing I'd probably never get to communicate with them again. Not after that display. I went to the broom closet again to pull out the vacuum and run it over the spot on the rug I'd cleaned earlier. When I'd finished I put it away and noticed my coat on the floor where I'd left it. I walked over to it, took it in my hands and pulled out my gloves and phone from the pockets. I set them down on the dining table and hung my coat in the hall closet, then took my accessories and phone upstairs to be put away in my room. Felix got off the couch and followed me up with more eagerness that I could ever express. The silly dog ran into my room and jumped onto my bed before spinning around in circles over the covers and finally settling in his seat. I smiled absentmindedly and shut the door, slumping onto the bed next to him. I threw my scarf, beanie and gloves onto the end table before hooking up my phone it's charger. I heard that familiar beep as my phone confirmed the connecting to the charging cable before switching to the lock screen with a notification that shocked me. There was a text message from an Oliver that asked me a simple, haunting question. Are you okay? I quickly unlocked my phone and opened the text, hoping that my phone had malfunctioned and that the text wasn't really there. But when I opened my messaging app there was a conversation under the title of Oliver, underneath which was written the latest written text of "Are you okay?" I exited out of the app and opened my contacts list. I scrolled through the short list and, to my horror, found not only a listing under Oliver Sterling but also under Erik Lockwood and Everett Michelson. I choked on the air suddenly, flabbergasted by this turn of events. I looked under each listing for anything that might explain how one of them could've gotten in my phone and I found what I was looking for in Oliver's entry under Notes. It read 4321 is not a good password for your phone. I exhaled sharply with disbelief. I unceremoniously threw my phone aside and rolled over onto my back to angrily stare at the ceiling like it was my nemesis. Felix walked over to me after a moment and rested his head on my shoulder. I looked at him with crazed eyes, but at the sight of his non-committal expression toward my fury I looked back at the ceiling. "What cheeky fucks," I muttered. - - - Fast-forward seven days and I hadn't received another text from any of them. It had taken a lot of willpower not to respond or start a new conversation with anyone of them when they were so temptingly within my reach. I had wanted to keep in touch with them since the moment of introduction. I wanted them, and I say them because I want him and the other one and that one as well but couldn't decide whether him was better than other one and if that one was superior to him yet subordinate to other one. My indecisiveness regarding who I was most attracted to served me in my avoiding them altogether. When I couldn't decide who to text first it was easier not to text any at all. But when they hadn't reached out to me again I came to the conclusion that they had probably offered their phone numbers because they were worried I might get into trouble again after finding me unconscious in the forest, and after having met my charming mother felt it was the right thing to do to check in on me, but afterward felt I was too complicated to deal with. Simple really. It bruised my ego, of course, that I was neither pretty or enticing enough to spark their interest to send me a second text. Yet I reminded myself how plain I am in comparison to the handful of Adonises I'd stumbled upon, which assisted my ability to shrug the hurt off. I was repeating this reasoning to myself like a mantra for the past week so I could just move on from the encounter with grace, a task proving to be near impossible to finish within a short period of time. I continued to walk in the darkness, Felix tugging maniacally at the leash as he sprinted from tree to tree, stopping only to momentarily sniff at the bark. He's probably caught the scent of a rabbit, I thought, jogging to keep up with him when burdened with my short legs. Soft, new snowflakes were filtering onto the ground to fit the definition of a white Christmas. And though the brisk wind that blew past was slightly discomforting, I enjoyed the gray, white and black beauty of the naked trees in the forest, the clouded night sky and the sugared ground. The Felix spotted the rabbit he was tracking; a little gray thing covered in a dusting of snow, looking innocent as can be. And he, having absolutely no control over himself, took off after the poor thing. When his harsh pull of the leash in my hands was paired with the soft, unstable snow under my feet, there was no way I would be able to hold him back. I hung on to the leash, hoping my weight would slow him down so that the rabbit could quickly escape and he would give up the chase, but my efforts were in vain. He galloped like a horse through the icy snow, all of it collecting in my clothes as he dragged me behind him. I didn't want to do it but I couldn't help it; I let go. He ran off and was out of sight within seconds. "Felix!" I called out. "Come back!" I waited and there was nothing. The only evidence that he had ever existed was the tracks he'd left in the snow, a long line left from the leash dragging behind him in between his paw prints. Even that was disappearing under the influence of the falling snow. "Felix!" I called out again more desperately. "Freya?" I heard a deep, surprised voice ask from behind. I turned quickly, startled. Oliver and Everett were standing behind me, staring. Everett had an eager smile on his gruff, masculine face while Oliver looked quizzical as he took a few steps forward and looked toward the trees where Felix had fled. I almost didn't notice how his nose twitched slightly when the wind blew our way. I gulped and bit my lip nervously. I didn't want to see them again, we weren't supposed to coincidentally bump into each other, I didn't want anything to do with them. Yet there they were, standing before me, tall and handsome. I suddenly noticed the handful of chopped wood that Oliver was carrying and the ax in Everett's right hand. "I-I..." I stuttered weakly. I shut up when Everett looked me over, lying helpless on the ground, licking his lips in a way more character of Erik. Then his eyes met mine again and a golden glow burned like a slow flame in his eyes - hungry. I started panting quietly under affect of his gaze, a warmth building within me, causing me to fidget and squirm to my feet below them. "I'm sorry, he ran off! And I, I couldn't-" I began pathetically. "How about you come home with us? It's cold out here. And we've got enough firewood to keep you warm for, the next few days, really," Oliver said. I focused on him, biting my lip as I watched snowflakes collect on his blonde eye lashes, his brown eyes glowing similarly to Everett's. I turned around suddenly and saw the moon overhead, eying it suspiciously. It must have been its fault their eyes glowed like that. "Okay," I muttered and at the moon with a nod, as if coming to an understanding with it. Then I realized what I'd said. I looked back at them, startled. They were smiling like fools who'd just found gold. "Wait-" I began. "Let's go," Everett interrupted, rushing toward me. I took a step back in fear but he was too swift for me. He wrapped his left arm around my waist and ushered me forward. "Hold on a second!" I quietly begged, trying to pry Everett's iron hand off my waist. But it was as if they were oblivious to my protests. "You think Erik made some coffee or something for us?" Oliver asked eagerly. Everett snorted. "I doubt it, he rarely considers our comfort," he answered with a laugh. "Guys..." I continued, but again there was no recognition on their part that I'd even spoken. "And with Erik's sweet tooth he probably made hot chocolate," Oliver muttered quietly, as if contemplating something awfully important. "Fucking unbelievable," I muttered. My body went limp in surrender and I simply followed their lead, deeming escape unattainable. There was that nagging voice in my head though that taunted me. You talk big game, but you know deep down you've wanted this. "Say something, love?" Everett asked, looking down at me from his giant height. "No, nothing at all," I squealed, holding my breath. He smiled down at me. "We'll be there shortly," he said, as if trying to sooth me. I gulped and looked at the ground, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other -quickly, mind you, to keep up with their long strides. With each step Everett took, I felt his leg brush against mine. The taut muscles of his leg move lithely against my skin and after a few moments of my brain muting their conversation and registering nothing but a part of him touching a part of me, I shivered at the warmth that was filling my body. "You cold?" I heard Everett ask. I started to shake my head no, but he squeezed me close so fast I lost balance and had to hold onto him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He made a small grunt, as if he approved of this, and locked his hand on my shoulder to keep me there. Now my face was on his chest, my arms wrapped around his steely waist, my hips pressed against his. Needless to say, this didn't really help my shivering. They stopped suddenly and I looked up from the ground at their lovely house ten feet before us. I'd never really noticed it before when I was walking away from it, but it was quaint. Like a stone cottage with a separate garage. Compared to my house it looked like a palace. Then again, a lot of things looked like a palace in comparison to my house. I quickly broke away from Everett, a feat I'm sure I only accomplished because he let me, and I rushed inside to find Erik curled up on the couch with a steaming mug of what looked like hot chocolate with a multitude of little marshmallows bobbing for attention at the top. In fact, there were so many of them, it looked as though they would spill over the rim of the cup if he didn't consume them quickly. He was still for a moment, then his head snapped in my direction as if he'd sensed my presence a moment later than my entrance. His blank expression turned jovial as he stood and practically ran to me. "Freya!" he greeted me. He didn't stop until we were inches from being pressed against each other. He looked me over with his twinkling green eyes, his plump lips stretched into a smile that put little effort into hiding his enthusiasm. He pushed the mug into my chest until I held it. "This is for you," he quipped, biting his lip despite the smile. It was a funny expression. "Thank you," I said, chuckling at his mannerisms. He turned away and I grimaced. Escaped the wolf only to be captured by a lion, I thought. He'd headed into the kitchen, presumably to make another cup of hot cocoa to replace the one he'd handed me. I looked down at it and frowned. It did look enticing, but I didn't like sweets. Oliver and Everett bustled in and I handed Oliver the mug. "Here." Oliver's smile was big and the happiness on his face was almost comical. Everett smiled, clapping a hand to his shoulder and turning his attention to me. Erik returned in a timely fashion looking happy as can be before his expression turned questioning and his eyes shifted from my empty hands to Oliver sipping away blissfully. Erik frowned so deeply I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing and cover my mouth with a hand to conceal my smile. The boys behind me weren't as polite. Everett chuckled and I heard Oliver choke on his drink and snort, which made Everett laugh harder. I closed my eyes in an effort to compose myself. "You all seem to be having a fantastic time," Erik droned, unamused. "Speaking of which," I began, taking a step back and turning so that I was speaking to all of them. "As fun as it has been catching up, I think it'd be best if you guys dropped me off so I can look for Felix. He probably made his way back to my house by now." They all went silent and I chewed on my lip nervously. I felt bad suddenly, I didn't mean to ruin their fun, but the fact of the matter was that I was uncomfortable being around them after the incident with my mother. And uncomfortable with how they affected me. "No," Oliver stated, in a manner that was too harsh for him. "No?" I repeated, quietly. My voice high. "Have you ever been in this sort of situation with Felix running off before?" Oliver asked. I was confused at the subject change, I wanted to go back to his refusal to let me leave. "Yes-" "How many times?" He interrupted. "A handful of times, but-" He cut me off. "And has he made it back home each time?" "Well, yes, but-" "Then it's settled," he stated with finality. "You're not going anywhere." I made eye contact with them each but they all seemed poised, as if they were ready to strike any moment I chose to make a run for it. Erik had even set his hot cocoa down on the kitchen countertop. I addressed Oliver when I spoke. "What do you mean?" My voice shaky and breaking with my fear. Erik stepped in suddenly, as if to smooth things over. "He means we want you to stay," he blurted. "We like you a lot, Freya. We don't want you to leave yet. Last time you did that, we didn't hear from you for a week." I stared at him incredulously. "You could've contacted me!" I cried. "You didn't get my text?" Oliver asked. "Well, I did but..." I said quietly. "See? You ignored us, and we don't have to talk about it. We figured you wouldn't after, well, after that thing," Erik offered awkwardly, touching a gentle hand to my shoulder. "Beside that, we'd like to discuss something with you," Everett added, his voice low and quiet. I looked up at him. "A proposition," He continued, as if that was a sufficient explanation. Erik ushered me to the couch and I sat down. He sat on the couch adjacent, Oliver sat in the arm chair, and Everett stood in front of me from across the coffee table. Everett opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and shook his head as if deciding that was not the correct way to open speech. He looked to Oliver for help. Oliver looked at me. "The three of us find you amicable and would like to ask you to move in with us," Oliver stated. I looked at them incredulously. "I don't know if I can do that, I barely know any of you." "Nonsense, I think we've proven that we're good guys," Erik said with a smirk. "I'm not disputing that, I just don't know if that's enough to join households," I said. "Not households. You mother and dog can't live with us," Everett stated, as if laying down the law. "See, I don't know if I could do that," I said. "You need out of there, Freya," Oliver said sympathetically. We went to your mom's work and we saw what kind of woman she is. You don't deserve that." "She wasn't always like that-" I started. "But she's like that now," Everett interrupted. Truth be told, they were right. She'd been abusive and horrible for years. Since my dad had run off, she'd gone from one end of the scale to the other. She was bitter and uninterested in getting better. I wanted to bolt as soon as I turned eighteen, but I stayed. I gave up on college and stayed to help her. To pick her up outside a motel room because she was out of her mind drunk and didn't remember what had happened. To hold her hair when she puked out her insides. To patch myself up when she broke a bottle over my skin. I didn't want any part of that anymore. I didn't like dealing with it and I didn't like trying, to no avail, to hide it from others. But Felix didn't deserve to stay with that nutcase. "I'm responsible for Felix. I can't just leave him with her," I said. "I know you care about him, Freya," Erik started cautiously. I looked to him. "But you can't give up you future for a pet. Its not worth it." "Why do you guys even care? Why do you even want me here?" I asked deliriously. If they pitied me I wanted nothing to do with them. I wouldn't stand for someone else's charity, it made me feel sick. "We like you," Oliver stated, his mouth slowly turning up for a smile. Everett and Erik nodded and mimicked the smile, and the gesture ceased my questions. I felt the consanguinity, the sincerity of that expression. And truth be told, I felt safe with them. Safer than I'd felt since my father walked out on me and my mom all those years ago. I really liked the feeling. Three Demons Ch. 04 "I need time to think about it," I stated. Something about my tone or perhaps my facial expression was genuine enough to make them all visibly relax. "That's all we need," Everett said with a smile, his golden eyes twinkling. "Let's get you home," Oliver said, standing. Erik followed suit and we all headed out the door to take me home. Three Demons Ch. 05 Sorry about the wait, I caught the flu and had trouble doing anything productive. Comments/constructive criticism are wanted and appreciated! * * * I felt it before I opened my eyes. Warm liquid, like a hot wax but less dense. Pressure, electrifying in nature, building to an urgent awakening. Just a grazing of something hard but thin, the difference in texture waking me. I opened my eyes and found myself on my bed, my legs spread wide, my underwear and pajamas no where in sight. But I didn't have the focus to look for them, not when he was there. He looked up at me from between my legs with those twinkling green eyes, skin crinkling with a smile. I gasped when his tongue pressed against me and he closed his plump lips on my clit. The whimper that escaped my lips was foreign and frightened me, but there was no time for that. He removed himself from me suddenly, backing away just a bit to reveal the lower half of his face glistening in my want. He licked his bottom lip as he stood and looked me over. "Hello, Freya," he growled. The way he said my name affecting my body in alien ways. "What is this?" I asked, utterly confused. "I couldn't hold back any longer," he replied in a characteristically playful tone, a big grin planted on his face and exposing his almost frighteningly sharp teeth. His blinked and his eyes were different, the pupil vertical and thin like a reptile's or a cat's. He stood and pulled me closer to him by my hips. "Do you know how delicious you are?" He asked with taunt. "It was difficult holding myself back," he began, as his fingers lightly trailed from my mound up my stomach, "When the desire to sink my teeth into your supple skin was so fucking strong," he gasped the last words out when his curious fingers found my breast and cupped it. My back arched with my quiet moan as I pushed into his hand and he grabbed the other, massaging them. Then I felt sharp points on my breasts and looked down with confusion. His hands had black claws that were lightly pressing into my skin. I shot my gaze to his face only to see black hair spiking out of the skin, a grin always fixated on his mouth. Then I felt him grind against me, it almost hurt he did it so hard. "Wait!" I begged, but he started to push his trousers down. That predatory smile always on his face. He leaned in close and buried his face into my neck, the contact making me shiver with delight, before he sunk his teeth into my neck just as he had wanted. Then I woke up. I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling above my bed. I looked down to see the blanket I'd slept with still on me and, after a quick check, that my sleepwear was still upon my person. I looked to my side, expecting to see Felix there, but the spot was vacant. I faced the ceiling once more before shutting my eyes close in an effort to slip back into sleep. The anxiety welling within me as a result of the dream was having none of it. And so, I exited the comfort of my creaky bed to look for him. I walked down the wooden staircase with bare feet in search for the animal, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. I checked the doors, in case he'd somehow made an escape, but each was secure. I made my way back up the stairs to worry in my room, almost passing the ajar door to my mother's bedroom. Just as I was about to, I stopped and stared at it with it's cracking paint and splintered wood. I exhaled before placing my fingers on the door and pushing it open. There he was, at the edge of the mattress, looking up at me. "Come on, Felix. Let's go," I whispered. He stayed in place. "Felix!" I whisper-shouted. He didn't move. After a moment I murmured, "Traitor," and headed back to my own room after closing the door. I slumped onto the bed like a rag doll, my phone chiming just after I'd gotten myself situated. I looked toward it curiously. Could it be Oliver, or Erik? Maybe even Everett? I rolled onto my stomach and crawled up the mattress to reach the end table supporting my phone on its surface. I grabbed it and pressed the home button. On the lock screen there was a message from Oliver: Any news? I unlocked my phone and responded: Not quite. It had been exactly 15 days since I'd last seen or heard from any of them; since they had made their proposition for me to change residence and join their household. I'd thought about it quite a lot. To be frank, I barely knew them but there was something about them that incurred trust and a sense of safety within me that I'd never felt before. It was risky to move in with three men, three very strong and capable men, who were near strangers. Memories flashed before my eyes; Oliver licking my neck to wake me up, Erik look me over hungrily, Everett holding me tight against his form as we walked to their house. Maybe they were good guys, just as Erik had said, but at least one of them wanted me, right? That was all flirting, wasn't it? It felt like clear interest at the time, but the more I thought about it the less sense it made to me. Me, as plain as I am, attractive to Oliver Sterling, Erik Lockwood, and Everett Michelson. You can't be serious, I thought. Perhaps I misunderstood, all there was between us was three adults who were trying to look out for me, like a bunch of father figures. I shook my head. It was wrong to see them as father figures when I wanted them in all sorts of naughty ways. I closed my eyes and my brows furrowed, my body tensing. I was disappointed in the pervert I'd become since meeting them. The shaming I was giving myself became too much and I eventually came to a conclusion that made this all okay: They're too attractive for me to help myself, I thought with a solemn nod. I opened my eyes again and looked at the ceiling. After a moment of absolutely no activity entering my mind, I remembered the dream that woke me from my otherwise peaceful slumber. I had dreamt of Erik giving me oral, which was interesting to say the least. His slippery tongue was doing all the things I'd never indulged in thinking about being done to me. I knew about sex, I'd watched plenty of porn when puberty struck, and I'd even slept with a few guys in high school to get my mom's attention - to no avail, of course. But it was something I just did, I touched myself until the pressure took me over the edge. I fucked a few guys and tried my best to enjoy the experience, despite my partners' inexperience and, sometimes, selfishness. Yet here I was, having dreams about Erik turning into a cat-demon-thing and doing naughty things to me. Up until now I'd been completely confused as to who I found more attractive and who I'd prefer to be with if the opportunity ever miraculously presented itself. Was this dream a sign that I liked Erik most? That didn't seem right. The thought of being with Erik brought a smile to my face, but the thought of turning my back on Everett and Oliver seemed wrong. I shook my head as if to disperse my thoughts. Whenever I thought along this subject line I tended to get a migraine. I heard a desperate whimper that was high in pitch and recognized it as Felix. I jolted for my bed and ran to the door, practically ripping it open and running down the hall to burst into my mother's room. There was a broken bottle in her hand and she stood over Felix who was surrounded by shards of glass. She turned to me and a rage built within me. "What the hell did you do to him?" I yelled. "I gave him what he deserved. You're fucking him aren't you? You filthy whore!" She screamed, her words slurring. "What?" I blurted. What was she on about? Was she serious? Did she really think I was so sick in the head that I'd have an affair with my own dog? This was ludicrous! "I had a dream," She began, approaching me with the broken bottle still in her hands, her knuckles turning white with the strength of her grip, "That a big ass animal was fucking you on your hands and knees and that you enjoyed it, you cunt. I always knew you were a slut, but I didn't think you had it in you to fuck a dog!" "Mom, please," I started, realizing she was delirious, drunk, and completely out of control. "It was just a dream. I'm not doing anything like that, I'm not sick. You just hurt Felix, and he's completely innocent in all of this. Please, put the bottle down." She lowered the bottle and I relaxed a little. I took a few slow steps toward her, trying not to startle her, while reaching for the bottle in her hand. She suddenly raised it overhead and hit me across the face with it. I fell to the floor, my jaw aching with the assault and a burning in my flesh. I touched a tentative finger to my cheek and when I drew it back it was covered in blood. I look at her in shock and just as my gaze met her form I felt a kick in my gut. She then kneeled by me and I noticed her hand raising the broken bottle in the air again, aiming for my side. I quickly crawled away, barely escaping the sharp end of the bottle. I turned to look back and kicked her as hard as I could in the face, knocking her drunk form to the ground. I fell limp on the ground and took a moment to catch my breath before sitting up and checking her pulse - she was fine. I quickly got up and checked Felix, who also seemed fine. I rushed to the bathroom and noticed my cheek bleeding maliciously. I ran downstairs and grabbed a towel from the linen closet before pressing it against my face to stop the bleeding. Still holding the towel to my face, I grabbed the first aid kit from under the downstairs's bathroom's sink and prepared the bandages and ointments I'd use for the cut. I removed the towel after a few minutes before dousing the wound in hydrogen peroxide and adding padding and a bandage. I put everything away, headed back upstairs, and entered my mother's room. I took hold of Felix and dragged him into my bedroom, hauling him onto the bed before locking the door in case she woke up too soon. I grabbed a small suitcase from my closet and started ripping my clothes from the coat hanger, folding it in a mediocre fashion, and tossing it into the luggage. I wrapped a few pairs of shoes I had into a few plastic bags before throwing them and a bag with my toiletry items into the suitcase. Then I hauled the thing down the stairs to reside in front of the door, and carried a very heavy dog down as well. I wrapped myself up in my outerwear, stuffing Felix's leash in one pocket and my phone charger in another. I sent a text to Oliver: Can you come get me? I didn't hear from him for the next 20 minutes even after my phone notified me that he'd seen the message. It was discouraging that I couldn't just dramatically drive off with my unconscious dog and three sexy men in a Chevy suburban so we could all live happily ever after, but I don't know what I expected. These men owed me nothing and it was unrealistic to expect them to drop everything and whisk me away when they had their own lives to worry about. Then I heard a knock at the door. I immediately got up and opened the door to see Everett standing there. He burst in and scouted the area before turning to me with worry on his face. When he saw the bandage on my cheek his expression turned furious and he spun toward the stairs, practically lunging for them. I grasped hold of his hand and he froze to turn to me. "I just want to get out of this place," I whispered, choking out the words as tears pooled in my eyes. His hands were cupping my face all of a sudden, and his face was just inches from mine. "This will never happen to you again, Freya. I promise this to you," He urged me. His eyes intently gazed into mine and the atmosphere between us was thick with need, for a moment I thought he would kiss me. He pulled away and turned to grab my luggage before taking my hand pulling me out the door. I shrugged my hand out of his grasp and said, "I'm not leaving without Felix." His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Felix laying unconscious on the couch. His frustrated gaze turned sympathetic at the sight of him. He nodded toward me, "Alright." He threw my suitcase in the trunk before returning inside to carry my dog, making it look easy really, out and gently laying him down in the back seat. I sat beside Felix in the back, placing his head on my lap and stroking his fur in as soothing a manner as I could muster. Everett sat in the driver's seat and started the engine, driving us off and away from the house that carried all my bad memories, and now my past. I heard a mechanical clunk and opened my eyes. It seemed I'd dosed off on the drive there, the shut of the driver's side door shutting had woken me up. Everett opened the back seat to pick up Felix who was now awake, but still a little out of it. I watched him shut the door and carry him inside, then my door opened. I turned my head to the sound and saw Oliver standing there. "Are you okay?" He asked. I nodded as I slowly stepped out of the vehicle. He took my hand to assist me in the task and embraced me as soon as I'd set both feet on the ground. "We were so worried," He breathed into my hair, burying his face into the crook of my neck. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I had just experienced something horrible, I was worried about Felix, but my body was losing control and all my mind could process was how his body felt against mine. His hard chest pressed against my chest, my breasts completely squished, I could feel my nipples hardening. I started to pant as his strong, built arms continued to squeeze me impossibly closer to him - now our stomachs were pressed tight together, if he kept this up another part of our bodies would meet and I didn't want that right now. I slipped my arms up his torso and stopped at his chest, slightly pushing. His grip loosened but his lips had broken past my hair and I could feel them and the soft scruff of his beard against my skin. He pressed his soft lips against my neck and whispered, "We'll never let anyone hurt you like that again," every achingly hot breath hitting my chilled neck, causing me to shiver against him. "Come on, Oliver. Bring her in, its cold outside!" I heard Erik's voice call. I turned my head to the sound and saw him at the doorway, both hands on the top of the door frame as he leaned forward, a crooked grin on his lips. "Let's go inside," Oliver cooed, a soothing smile painted his face and I couldn't help but feel a relaxing calm overcome me in place of the heat that had just built up. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, protectively I dare say, as he ushered me inside the house. As soon as I walked in, Erik clutched me to him, consequently pulling me away from Oliver. He sighed happily as he picked me up, still tightly pressed against him, and spun me around a few times. Satisfied, he let me go. It was a moment too early for me and I lost balance, almost tripping over my feet but Oliver caught and steadied me before anything could happen. I turned to him and smiled my thanks. "Are you hungry sweetheart?" Erik asked. I shook my head. "No, thank you. I kind of lost my appetite," I muttered. Erik nodded, his shapely brows furrowing a little, his green eyes worried, his plump lips twisted into an uneasy line. It was pretty awkward to be talking with Erik after the risque dream I had last night, beyond awkward. I tried to subtly look him over as my thoughts wandered to that dream. My gaze focused momentarily on his lips, which relaxed out of that tight line to slightly pout. My throat grew dry, I swallowed and bit my lip. He bit his lip back. I blinked a few times in confusion at the gesture, but refused to meet his eyes. My eyes slid to his neck, he turned his face to the side and I saw the strain of the sinewy muscle in his neck just under the skin when he did. I kept looking down, at his chiseled collarbone and the way the gray t-shirt he wore stretched to the contours of his body. "Freya," Erik said in a patronizing tone, "My eyes are up here, darling." My eyes widened as soon as they met his, a cocky smile on his face. I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment but heard Oliver immediately laugh. "Don't flatter yourself, Erik. Freya's got better taste than that," He said, I could hear his smile by the way he spoke. Erik shrugged. "I can't argue with that. But if I'm not good enough for her, you have about as much chance as a slug," Erik shot back. I laughed, I liked how Oliver and Erik were so competitive and snarky with each other. They were both ridiculous in the end, I'd be happy to be with either one of them. I liked the way Erik had a playful rudeness about him and how Oliver was sweet but overstepped personal boundaries in a desirable way. They both housed traits I found attractive, but I didn't know if I'd be able to pick between them, or Everett for that matter. Speaking of the man, he had entered the room to silence us all with that dominant air about him. He walked slowly, but deliberately, with his whole body looking poised to strike any moment he wanted. There was something so predatory about the way he walked, he was intimidating in every sense of the word. The only thing I could think to compare him with was an vicious and experienced animal who liked to circle and play with their prey before devouring them. There was something about how he looked at me with his golden eyes that exaggerated the aforementioned vibe - there was an intensity about them that made my body heat and my heart beat fast, with my only thoughts being fight or flight. I squirmed uncomfortably. This was a bad idea, I thought. I'd always liked a little eroticism in the past but this was too much. I had been in their company for such a short amount of time and wanted to ravage something human, male, and muscular. How on earth was I going to live with them without going nuts? The worst part was how I felt that intense hunger for all three of them simultaneously and equally, it tore up the moral part of my brain. I had always viewed polyamorous relationships with prejudice, I couldn't imagine sharing someone I loved with anyone else. So the fact that I wanted all three of these men to touch me, wanting them all to kiss me, it was confusing and foreign. Just thinking about all three of them, in any context, was distracting me and I could already feel my breath hitching. Damn it, get a hold of yourself. "Where's Felix?" I asked. Perfect. My thoughts were clouded with worry again, completely dispersing any trace of what had been previous. "Is he alright?" Everett nodded. "He's sleeping in the bed you stayed in that first night. He's curled up in a ball. For a dog his size, it was actually pretty cute." He said the last bit with a slowly formed smile. At first I was glad, he'd originally seemed against the very thought of Felix, understandably because of how Felix had behaved upon introduction. But then, I gritted my teeth. Everything was headed in the right direction until he smiled, then the heat was back. "I'm going to get my bags," I muttered, casting my gaze to the ground and heading out the door. They didn't say anything but just before the door shut completely behind me I heard Erik speak. "Who the hell had the nerve to do that to her face?" he asked. I heard them continue talking through the open window that they'd apparently forgotten was open. "Her mom," Everett lamented. "She didn't understand," Oliver said, sighing exasperatedly. "No one should be able to fucking touch her," Everett growled. "She's not able to defend herself yet, Everett. With time she will unlock her strength but until then we look after her. That's what we're meant to do," Oliver calmly, patiently responded. At this point in the conversation I stopped eavesdropping and went to do what I actually said I would. The way Oliver phrased things was interesting, the jist of it being that they thought me too weak to take care of myself and felt obligated to look out for me. It was disheartening to hear anyone say this about me, but I tried to shrug it off - knowing that Oliver probably didn't mean it that way and, if he did, he didn't mean it in a way that would offend me. I was surprised at the protectiveness of Everett though, complimented by it even. I was right when I said I felt safe around them. Three Demons Ch. 05 Thankfully, the doors of the car were still unlocked and I was able to remove my luggage from the trunk without a hitch. I carried it inside and surprisingly they weren't in sight when they had been just a moment before. I headed for the room that I'd slept in the first time I'd entered this house, where Felix was waiting for me. When I opened the door, the room looked nothing like it had before, not even a little. There was dry wall and crown molding, porcelain tiles with wood grain, a huge bed and contemporary furniture. Everything was gone except the fireplace and even that got cosmetic surgery. At first I thought I might be in the wrong room, but Felix was laying on the bed so I convinced myself I was in the right place. I guess they did a little bit of remodeling? I couldn't fool myself, I liked how it looked now compared to before. It looked so much nicer, so much newer and up to date - so much easier to clean. A voice in the back of my head tried to persuade me that they'd done this for me, but I refused to let that fester too long. I couldn't go ahead and assume that they did this all for me, it was stupid and narcissistic to think that way; that's what I kept telling myself anyway. I started unpacking. It didn't take me as long as I thought it would, in my haste I hadn't packed all of my clothes. Thankfully, I'd packed all my underwear. I picked up the piles of them at the bottom of the bag and carried them to the dresser where I unloaded them at the top. I took each one individually and folded them. Oddly, I became highly critical of each pair. I looked at a few pairs of striped bikini bottoms and frowned. They weren't attractive at all, but sexy little numbers were expensive. I wanted something tiny and covered in lace. I picked up a pair of panties that looked like they were shipped to me from the fifties. I mean look at this shit, I thought to myself. I suddenly heard the knob click. I stared at it with conviction, willing it not to turn. Too late, it was twisting. I ran to the door to bar it with my body. "Freya?" I heard Oliver call out, as if to warn me of his entrance. He opened it before I even had a chance. So there I was, a pair of granny panties in my hand probably with an expression of complete embarrassment on my face. "There you are," he said with a smile. His eyes finally spotted the thing in my hand and he stopped smiling. He cleared his throat and visibly avoided looking directing at them or my face. "We're going for a run, we'll be back in an hour or so. Don't wait up." He turned to walk out, but stopped before he was past the door frame. He chuckled and said, "From now on, I'll knock before entering." He then walked away with me feeling absolutely humiliated. "I hope those manners will extend to Erik and Everett as well!" I called out maliciously. I heard him laugh before the front door shut and then there was silence. What cheeky fucks. Three Demons Ch. 06 I'd like to thank my readers for staying patient with me. I hope this submission was worth the wait and exactly what you were waiting for. If you have any suggestions or requests for the next chapter, please post a comment or send me some feedback! * * * I felt wetness on my face, a sloppy tongue. I groaned sleepily but a hint of a smile was slowly gracing my lips. The licking stopped and I relaxed, sighing and rubbing my face into my pillow with the hopes of dozing back into a deep slumber. The wetness came again and, though I felt like giggling, the noise I made in response was a wispy moan. The licking stopped when I started shifting in bed and I opened my eyes just a smidge. I saw golden eyes looking down at me, with black lids and white eyelashes, surrounded by white fur. I closed my eyes and snuggled into my pillow. Golden eyes, just like Everett's, I thought. I finally woke up - in that new bed, in that new room, in a house they lived in. I felt well rested for once since the nightmare of my life began. I felt comfy and warm under the comforter, the pillows were soft under my head, and I could feel Felix's form still asleep next to my leg. I smiled because I had the urge to, as the sun unobtrusively seeped past the protection of the blinds at the window. I stretched lazily and felt the cool air hit my skin, a little moan slipping past my lips as I rubbed my eyes open. I got up in a very unladylike manner and sleepily walked out the door and across the hallway to the bathroom. On my way there my eyes strayed to the living room where the guys were lounging on the couch and I smiled at them before entering the bathroom and closing the door. I turned to look in the mirror and wasn't disappointed at what I saw. I looked nice. Ignoring the bandage covering the cut on my cheek, my skin looked dewey and supple. My hair was a little ruffled, but in a sexy way. My complexion was fair, with no redness or dark circles. My lips were plump and pink, my cheeks flushed, and my eyes swollen into slits. I stupidly grinned at my reflection, touching the palms of my hands to my face to relish how pretty I felt just from sleeping one night without dreading the morning. My eyes continued to fall down my form in the mirror and my bliss was abruptly ceased. Familiarity washed over me and my mind suddenly clouded with dark thoughts of misery when I spotted the marks on my skin, evidence of the many years of abuse. I had scars and burn marks distributed on my arms and chest, on my stomach too but that was covered by the worn out tank top I was dawning. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I didn't look too bad, the marks had healed up well and the skin wasn't raised by much over each scar. But they were whiter than the rest of my skin, and it was all to obvious that they weren't self-inflicted. It made me feel pathetic when I looked at them, they were nothing but proof that I was a wretched, unloved creature who was too weak to protect herself. I realized that I was safe now, but I wanted to be strong and independent. Three men were currently protecting me and, while I was immensely grateful, I didn't want to need their help. I wanted to be able to take care of myself, I didn't want to be seen as fragile. But I knew that I would be as soon as anyone saw my scars or heard my story. They'd see me as damaged goods, I just knew it. I shook my head and sat on the toilet to relieve my bladder of its nightly burden. I didn't want to think about this first thing in the morning. I rubbed at my thighs nervously and tried to clear my thoughts. I stared down at my panties suspended on my calves, concentrated on them. There was something about them that bothered me. I stood up and pulled them up after flushing the toilet and let my fingers linger on the seam. Something bothers me about this, I thought. I then realized what it was. I'd walked from my room to the bathroom, walking past the living room where they were seated and even smiled at them, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a tank. I smacked my forehead in despair and proceeded to wash my hands at the sink, dreading that I'd have to walk back to the room in the same state of dress. I opened the door as quietly as I could manage and peeped past the door, the television was quieter than when I first walked past...or was that just my imagination? I leaned past the doorway and even took a tentative step into the hallway before I saw them. Erik's cheeky, lecherous smile made me shiver with delight. Oliver's bashful gaze directed at the floor and the red flush dawning his face made me feel a tad bit ashamed. And Everett's tight jaw and heated gaze on my form made my body heat and my breath hitch. I didn't know what to say, exactly. Didn't know whether this matter should be addressed and apologies should be made or if I should just act confident and casual. My thinking was that it happened, but so what? They'd probably seen a girl minimally clad before, this was nothing new or even scandalous. And I was sure guys like them had seen hotter girls in less clothes, I was nothing special. So I just ran away from the situation and headed to my room, shutting the door a little louder than I'd originally intended. I sat on my bed for a while before getting up and slipping on a pair of jogging shorts to grab some personal effects and heading back to the bathroom. I didn't look toward the living room this time. I shut the bathroom door and smiled reassuringly at my reflection in the mirror. I should take a shower, that will calm me down, I thought with a nod. I started to strip and turned on the hot water. I grabbed my soap and shampoo, and my sponge and placed them on the built in shelving. Once naked I slipped in and practically moaned. The water was just warm enough to calm my nerves and I stood immobile for a while - just basking in the heat and steam. Once I'd finished, I shut off the water and wrung my hair dry before wrapping myself in the towels I'd brought with me. I went up to the sink and started brushing my teeth. I stared at my flushed face and those forsaken eyebrows. I opened the bag of personal effects I'd brought and pulled out a pair of tweezers and started to pluck. They looked better now that they were groomed, less caveman-ish. I'd always had things like tweezers, I just didn't ever feel like pampering myself. I didn't have anyone to look pretty for, anyway. The fact that Erik's eyebrows looked better than mine had started to bother me, though. I wasn't exactly shaved either. I'd never liked being anything but smooth, but again I just hadn't felt like dealing with the state of my legs before. I always covered myself up because, well, out of sight out of mind. I winced at the realization that I'd walked past them with this fur-cladden body fully exposed. The shame washed over me but I shook my head in an effort to disperse the thought. "It's okay, just pretend they don't care," I repeated to myself, promising to deal with my bodily hair at some point in the future. Lucky for me my hair was fine and fairly unnoticeable, they probably hadn't even noticed and wouldn't notice unless I pointed it out to them. When I was finally dressed and ready, I walked out of the bathroom - throwing my personal effects onto my bed as I walked past my room - and seated myself on the couch next to Everett as that was the only open spot. Erik was sprawled on the loveseat and Oliver was sitting in the armchair. "Good morning," Everett purred with a warm smile, sliding his arm onto the back of the couch behind my head. A pleasant heat was radiating off his form and I tried to inch closer to him to bask in that warmth. "Good morning," I replied with a smile, while looking up into his golden eyes that seemed to flicker with an inner flame and shine. Tricky lighting, I thought, my smile becoming broader. "You're wearing barely anything, love. Haven't you noticed its snowing outside?" Everett asked. I took a moment to think of how to respond. I watched his eyes sweep over my body, watched him look away to bite and lick his lip. "To be honest, I'm a little cold," I quietly replied, hoping Erik and Oliver were too preoccupied with the TV to tune in. "Well, come here," he responded, just as quietly, a knowing smile gracing his face. I scooted closer until I was flush against him, with my head resting on his chest. He grabbed a blanket from I haven't a clue where and pulled it onto me. It was small, covering just my back, but my ass and thighs were still cold. Erik looked over at us and I turned my head away to avoid his gaze, a little embarrassed. Erik gets up and sits next to me, lying down on top of lower half. His head resting on my hip and his arms wrapped around my thighs, his body covering the rest of my legs. My eyes widened in shock, but I dared not look at him. "You're legs looked cold," he murmurs, Oliver scoffs at that. "You know, I had an interesting dream," I blurted, trying to change the vibe in the room. "Did you?" Oliver quipped, turning his attention to me, and lowering the volume of the TV. "Yes," I began, "I kept seeing wolf eyes that looked a lot like yours, Everett. They had that same gold hue. With white fur and white eyelashes." Everett smiled at me, petting my hair with his huge hand. "That is interesting," Everett commended. "Almost coincidental," Erik remarked, snidely. "Indeed," Oliver said, eying Everett. "Is there something I'm missing here?" I asked, shrugging away from Erik and Everett. They were all quiet. I stared at Oliver, my eyes begging for him to tell me the truth. He shook his head no and turned back to the TV. I got up and headed for kitchen, rummaging through it for ingredients to an easy meal. I heard Everett get up with a sigh just a moment later. "Oliver, its time we head out for work," Everett said, his voice void of even a hint of cheerfulness. "Sounds about right," Oliver replied. I heard their heavy footsteps as they walked toward the door. "Goodbye, Freya," Everett said. "Bye," I replied, without looking their way. I was focused on slathering peanut butter and jelly onto a couple of bread slices. I heard the door open, both of them walk out, and then the door shut again. I finished making my sandwich and reentered the living room to sit in Oliver's chair. "What is that?" Erik asked. I looked to him, his face was twisted with disgust. "Um, PB and J," I replied. "No, that's not a proper breakfast," Erik criticized. I chuckled. "I think it's a perfect meal," I said, biting into it. "It lacks protein," he complained. "Peanut butter has protein," I corrected. "Not as much as an egg. Or two," he countered. I didn't reply, I just kept munching on my sandwich. I focused on the TV in an effort to ignore his piercing, critical gaze. After a moment he asked, "Do you know how to cook?" I sighed, trying to contain myself. "Why does it matter?" "I have a feeling you don't know how to." I could hear the smile in his voice. "So? Not like you're going to teach me right this second," I replied, coolly. "That, miss, is where you're wrong," he said. I looked at him then, his face was split in two by a giddy, almost childish grin. He stood up and pulled the plate and sandwich out of my hands, setting them aside on the coffee table despite my protests. He took hold of my hand and dragged me over to the kitchen. He started rummaging through the cabinets before saying, "How about you help me out? Grab some eggs and bacon, sweetie." I did as he asked and placed them on the countertop next to the stove. "Now," he said, before placing a mixing bowl, a whisk, a butter knife, and a pan onto the countertop and stove, "Lets begin by turning on the stove to medium heat." I stood there, waiting for him to do it. He stared at me for a moment or two and I realized he was waiting on me. "You want me to do it?" I asked. "Well, am I to do everything?" he returned with a sigh. I shook my head no, and fumbled to do as he'd asked. I turned on a gas range and looked up at him. "Good girl," he said, "Now, the butter's next to the stove. Use the knife to cut some and put it in the pan." I pulled the top off the glass butter dish and did as he instructed. "No!" he cried. I froze. "What's wrong?" "That's way too much butter," he scolded me, grabbing my wrist and guiding my hand to cut what was his idea of just the right amount. "We'll take baby steps," he cooed into my ear, his breath hitting my hair. His other hand took hold of my free hand and he started guiding me by my wrists on what to do. I could feel the heat of his breath each time he exhaled when it hit my neck, my hair blowing as a result to tickle at my skin. He helped me crack the eggs with just the right amount of force, had me throw the shells away and mix the eggs until they had a perfect yellow consistency to them. He rested his chin on my shoulder to look at what we were doing and would whisper encouragements like, "Good girl. Such a fast learner," before pressing his chest into my back. Each time he did that, I felt his crotch brush up against my ass and each time it happened I would swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. The first few times it happened I felt nothing that could be risque, so I tried to relax my nerves. He told me to grab another pan for the bacon and I did, placing on the stove to medium heat and he took hold of my wrists again. He continued to guide me, moving my wrists like they were extensions of his hands. He had me mix the eggs in the pan until he decided they were ready at which point I was instructed to dump them onto a plate. I sighed with disapproval. I'm not even hungry anymore, I thought. All this food would probably go to waste because there was no way I would be able to finish it. I still had the sandwich waiting for me in the other room, I wasn't just going to throw it away. The smell of bacon started to spread throughout the kitchen and I heard him deeply inhale against me. He pushed into me again, but this time I felt something. I felt something hard brush up against my ass and I swallowed anxiously. He had me turn off the stove completely and then nothing. We simply stood there in silence. I could feel the heat of his breath hit my back, right between the shoulder blades and his hands gripping my wrists, almost pinning them in place. I heard him gasp and shakily exhale just before closing the space between his body and mine. He let go of one of my wrists momentarily to brush my hair aside and push it over my shoulder, baring my neck to him. He gripped my free wrist again and leaned in closer, his breath now hitting the bare skin at the back of my neck. I shivered each time he exhaled, the nerve endings in my skin buzzing with electricity. "Erik?" I whispered, my voice small and hesitant. He groaned from deep in his stomach, the noise similar to a throaty growl. "Say my name again," he practically moaned, before pressing his lips against my neck. I shuddered at the contact, a quiet whimper escaping my lips. I couldn't handle this much stimulation on my neck. I tried to shrug away from him and he just pressed up against me, the bulge at his crotch smushed against my backside. "Please Freya, say it again," He whispered against me, before sliding his warm, wet and oddly textured tongue against the back of my neck. I gasped and shivered, he cooed softly and continued to lick me until I felt my stomach heat up and puddle. A familiar sensation of heat and wetness hit me between the thighs and my mind started going blank. His tongue felt hard and bumpy, like a cat's, and at this moment it was stimulating my already sensitive neck to push me past my breaking point. "Erik," I breathed. He growled against me and bit the back of my neck hard before ramming his crotch against my ass, grinding it into me. He thrust into me so hard I started to pound against the stove and it would creak as it bumped into the wall. I moaned, liking the way he felt against me and found myself arching my back to better accommodate him and feel it against my already pooling sex. He let go of one of my wrists to slide his hand under my pajama shorts and I tensed with anticipation. He slid his fingers under my panties and I gasped when they made contact with my clit. He started slowly at his next task, rubbing my clit in circles while his lips left sweet kisses on my neck and shoulders. Then he picked up the pace, rubbing me at an impossibly fast pace until I was shuddering against him. "Come for me, love," his tone twisting the words into both a demand and a plead. I tensed at once, orgasming against his hand and holding my breath as I did. His hand was immobile against my throbbing clit for a moment, as he waited for me to catch my breath. But it seemed he wasn't done with me. He pulled his hand out from under my clothing and spun me around. He watched me with those quizzical green eyes for a moment, a brighter green than I was use to and so beautiful they paralyzed me in place. He leaned in and kissed me, his plump lips soft and urgent. I opened my mouth to let him in and he slipped that textured tongue of his inside, twisting it against mine and even sucking on my tongue. He broke away from me and I couldn't help but blurt, "Your tongue feels weird." He chuckled. "Does it?" he asked. I nodded. "Well," he began. "Should I stop using it on you?" "N-no," I whimpered. He smiled that signature predatory smile of his. I continued, "I like how it feels." He licked his bottom lip and bit it, I did the same without thinking. "Your mouth tastes so good. I wonder what your lips will taste like," he said, eying me for a reaction. I blushed at his words and looked at the ground, trying to hide my face with my hair. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. "Imagine that for a moment, Freya," he said, "Imagine my weird tongue licking that pretty little clit of yours and tasting the inner-most parts of you." I flushed a deeper red, my cheeks were on fire. I couldn't believe he'd just said that. My mind was almost offended but at the same time, I imagined myself sitting on the edge of one of the countertops in the kitchen, shorts dangling off an ankle with my legs spread apart, his face between my thighs, his tongue on my sex. I moaned and my knees gave in, he grabbed me and helped me up before I had a chance to fall. "I knew you'd like that one," he said with a smile. He picked me up and carried me like I was a newly wed bride to my room, where Felix was still asleep on the bed. He threw me on top of it and Felix awoke startled, "Go on, Felix, get out," Erik commanded, lightly smacking him on his side. Felix jumped off the bed and trotted out the door, turning slightly to look at us, but Erik slammed the door shut before he could look me in the eyes. Erik started to pull off the gray long-sleeve shirt he had on I started to get second thoughts. "Wait, Erik. This is happening really, really fast. I just moved in yesterday and things are going to get weird between all of us if we do this-" I couldn't finish my statement. He'd pulled off his shirt and there he was, chiseled and lean with a runner's body. His skin was a perfect hue of olive, his pectorals and shoulders large, but his stomach was just a set of washboard abs. "You were saying?" he said with a knowing smile. He teasingly ran his hands over his body, leading my attention to his bulge which was outlined even from underneath his sweatpants. "You know, Freya," he started, "I've wanted you from the moment I saw your face when Everett brought you home. I looked at those plump lips of yours and the only thing I could think about was tasting them and seeing them on me. I watched you for a little while as you slept and I touched your soft, fair skin with only the thought of leaving marks and bruises behind. And in the morning when I first saw you awake, saw those beautiful silvery eyes of yours, I knew that I would not be satisfied until I saw them pool with tears as I fucked you until you screamed my name." Three Demons Ch. 06 I was rendered speechless after that. It was a very aggressive way to woo me, but little did he know it was exactly what I liked. His aggression frightened and excited me at the same time, my body was flustered and needy. It had been a while since I last wanted someone like this, if ever. I wanted to see if he could walk the talk, but I was still worried. "Erik," I began in protest. He parted his lips and exhaled. "You have no idea how much you excite me when you say my name like that," he breathed. "Like what?" I asked, unbelieving that my voice could affect him so. He began to walk toward the bed in a predatory, almost feline manner, making me feel hunted. "Like you need me but you don't want me to know. Like you want this, but you're worried. Its breathy and husky, coming right from your core. When I hear you talk, it plants a seed in me; an urge, really. To hear those polite little words turn into raw, desperate moans," he smiled that predatory smile of his as he crawled onto the bed until he was on top of me. He sat back and pulled me up with him before taking hold of my hands and guiding them to his bare chest with the objective of making me slide my hands down his body. He let go of my hands and I continued to rub his front, enjoying the feel of his lean muscles and soft skin. He took hold of my chin and ran his thumb over my lips. "I won't rush you," he said quietly, after a moment, "If you need to think about this you're welcome to. You've already had a taste of what I have to offer. Just let me know when you've come to a decision," he said, with a heartrendingly sweet smile. He brushed my hair away from my face and kissed my forehead. He got up off the bed and walked to the door, picking up his shirt on the way there. He let Felix in before heading out and closing the door behind him. Felix jumped onto the bed and I fell backward into the pillows and mattress. I covered my face with my hands in an effort to calm myself. "What the fuck just happened?" I whispered to myself. Three Demons Ch. 07 I TRIED TO MAKE IT LONGER THIS TIME. PLEASE TELL ME IS GOOD. Also, thanks for waiting everyone. I really do appreciate the patience. As always, comments and feedback are what I long for. And if you're ever looking for news on the status of the next chapter, I will keep good on posting updates for the series to my profile. Enjoy! * * * A couple weeks had passed since the incident with Erik. The way we were, you would've never guessed that anything had happened between us. If I ever had suspicions that the others knew, it was the morning after, when Erik said something along the lines of, "Every girl gives in to me at some point," and the two of them both stared right at me, gauging a reaction. But after that, there was no change in conduct. Erik was the same as ever; flirty in a passive aggressive way - holding true to his statement about waiting for me to make the next move. His patience was impressive as well as unnerving. I was always on my toes, wondering when he would spill the beans. When I felt safe, he gave me a sort of look that had only one thing perceivable in its gaze: that he knew my secret. When I started to get anxious that he'd tell Everett or Oliver, he would get me alone and rekindle a sense of trust and friendship. I don't know exactly why I am so worried about the two of them finding out. Am I worried that they might not take me seriously? Yes. Why? Because I didn't want them to think that they could pass me around or lose all respect for me as a woman. It was annoying to me, thinking that what they felt and thought about me actually mattered, but it did. "Freya, you ought to make something for Oliver and Everett. They're running late," Erik mumbled, breaking me away from my thoughts. He was sitting at the dining room table. An ice pack was stuck to his forehead thanks to a thin rubber sash that wrapped around his head, kind of like a sleeping mask. His head was on its side, resting on the table, all its weight on his cheek. His hair wasn't in its usual gelled glory but stuck in an number of angles from an undoubtedly restless sleep. "Maybe they shouldn't have gotten so screwed up last night when the three of you went out," I replied, my tone colder than was fair. "Freya, just fucking do it," Erik groaned. His words were forceful at first, as though he was giving a command, but it turned into a plead by the end with his voice but a whimper. I sighed. "Why don't you take something for that headache, hon?" I asked, resigned. "I did," he mumbled, "Please make them something. I would do it but I'm indisposed. I'll owe you one." I turned away with a disapproving shake of my head and pulled out some cereal, milk and toast. "Freya, make them a real breakfast," he groaned. I exhaled forcibly. "You're annoying when you have a hangover," I whispered under my breath. "So are you, sweetheart, hangover or no," he mumbled. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "How did you even hear that?" He paused for a moment, silent. Then he said, "I'm especially sensitive to light and sound right now, babe. Give me a break." I tried to analyze what he said. I was barely audible, especially to him when he was 20 feet away. Whatever, its not important. His senses are probably acute right now, like he said, I thought dismissively. "I'm not annoying," I grumbled, while pulling the ingredients of a "real breakfast" out of the fridge, as Erik had requested. I beat some eggs with a whisk in a bowl, humming a tune to myself cheerfully while bacon sizzled in a pan on the stove. "What are you humming there, Freya?" I heard Oliver ask. I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him. He was leaning his hip against a counter, arms crossed with the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt exposing two flexing forearms. The top few buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing the base of his neck and, with it, his collarbone. He looked very...appetizing. "Nothing worth naming, just a simple tune," I said quietly, smiling to myself. I loved living with excessively attractive men. I heard the sound of his footsteps as he drew closer to me. I could feel the heat radiating off his person when he leaned in to look over my shoulder at, I'm assuming, the state of his meal. He slid a hand around my waist and said, "Looks delicious. I can't wait to taste it." There was something about the way he said it. Perhaps it was the hint of a growl in the undertones of his voice, perhaps it was his heated breath hitting my neck as he said it. Maybe it was the way his hand was sliding down my side along the curve of my hip, inch by achingly slow inch. "But," he began, breaking my reverie with a clear and poignant tone to his once sultry voice, "you're making a little too much for just me. Everett already headed out." That was confusing as it was only six in the morning. "When?" I asked. "At four or so. There was a problem at the construction site." "Oh. The boss called him in?" The corners of his lips twitched up in a smile. "Something like that." I was a bit puzzled by his reaction but quieted my curiosity, lest the bacon burn while I idled away with something that wasn't really my business in the first place. "You can have Everett's share of the bacon if you want," I said, changing the subject. "You don't like bacon?" he asked, a little surprised. I wanted to say duh but he and Everett always left too early in the morning to see what I ate for breakfast. "I'm not a big fan of pork," I said, adding, "Honestly," in reaction to his astonished expression. "What about beef?" he asked. "Maybe. When I'm craving iron," I responded, my shoulders raising with my level of discomfort. I'd had this conversation many times before whenever I expressed my distaste for the holy grail that was bacon. I poured the whipped eggs into the pan and started mixing them with a spatula. "So you don't like red meat?" he asked with the heaviness of disbelief weighing on his voice. "No, not really. Well, not domestic," I explained, trying to plead my case. "Domestic?" he inquired, obviously bemused. "Yeah, domestic. Like, raised by people on a farm. The meat is too fatty and tender. Whenever I see those vegan commercials," I began, waving the spatula in my hand as I spoke, "you know, the overly depressing ones," I continued, he nodded in recognition, "you see the animals in these crates, unable to move a muscle. They sit there crowded and filthy. Too cramped to move, unable to run around and grow strong muscles. I can taste that when I eat the meat." "I think I'm going to be sick," Erik groaned. I turned my head to look at him clutching his abdomen as he hurried out of the room. I chuckled and focused my attention back on the eggs. "I suppose you can," Oliver murmured, having withdrawn his hand from my side as soon as I began and only now I noticed its absence. "But," I continued, rambling at this point, "I love wild game." I turned to give him a glance, wanting to maintain some sort of eye contact through our conversation while I cooked. I saw his eyes spark at my statement and his mouth widen into a grin. "Do you?" he asked. "Oh yes. I think it delicious. Its very lean and, just, I don't know. Tasty," I said with a laugh. "Perhaps Everett and I could hunt something for you," he said, rueful. "Everett would love that, even more than I," he chuckled. I scoffed, using the spatula to deposit the eggs onto our plates. "Oh, really? Is Everett trigger happy or something?" His resounding sigh was troubling enough for me to turn my attention away from the meal I was preparing and look at him. He leaned against the countertop, hands gripping the edge of the granite and his shoulders were hunched, exaggerating their size as a result. "No, Everett's not too big on guns," he finally said, as I deposited the eggs onto our plates. "So what does he use?" I asked, genuinely curious. "A bow?" "No, no," he said, with a shake of his head. "Then what?" "Something sharp." "Like a hunting knife?" I picked up the plates and handed him one, heading toward the silverware drawer to grab some forks. He exaggeratedly chomped his teeth. I paused, frozen, and stared at him for a moment as my brain processed that. "Sometimes he uses these too," he said, gesturing at his fingernails. I scoffed. "Yeah, right. So I'm suppose to believe Everett goes Teen Wolf on a rabbit every time the opportunity strikes?" Oliver chuckled and followed me to the dining table. As he was sitting beside me he said, "I guess that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? No, Everett's picky about what is ultimately his prey. Rabbits are more my thing," he explained, winking at me with an amused smile. I pursed my lips and playfully shoved at his chest, to which he laughed before gently pushing my hand away. We started to engage in our meal, both out forks clanging at clanging softly against the plates as we cut out eggs into bite-sized chunks. We were silent for at least ten minutes as we ate and I started fiddling with my phone to preoccupy myself. I could hear the sound of the bacon being crushed by Oliver's teeth as he ate. "This is really good," he said, his words slightly indiscernible from the food in his mouth. "Thank you," I said, smiling with gratitude at the compliment. It was definitely the first time anyone had complimented my cooking. "Erik told us you were a horrible cook, I can see now that he was definitely wrong." My mouth puckered with slight embarrassment. "I was," I admitted, "Until he started teaching me. In fact, I've been making breakfast every morning for the past week," I remarked, gloating over my accomplishment. "Well, that explains those two mornings when our bacon was burned," he mused. "You shut your mouth," I quipped lightheatedly. I turned my head to look at him, he was smiling slyly, his dimples denting his cheeks. Despite the boyish grin on his face, his gruff beard gave him a very mature look. He blinked his blonde eyelashes and looked me over with doe brown eyes, only then did the tank top and pajama shorts I wore feel like scarce coverage. He sighed and turned back to his breakfast, altering the once progressive atmosphere into another dull morning. I picked at my eggs with my fork, a little bummed. Then I chastised myself. What exactly were you expecting, Freya? "It seems you and Erik have had plenty of opportunity to get close," Oliver murmured. I panicked at the true meaning of his words. Was I wrong before? Was it obvious that something had happened between us? "I guess we have," I commended, exercising caution. I didn't want to give anything away in the off chance that Oliver didn't have a hidden agenda. "I regret," he began, "That you and I haven't had the same chance." I felt my tense body relax at his words. He didn't know, thankfully. He looked a little sad despite the crooked grin he dawned. "Well, its understandable," I began, trying to console him. "You and Everett work so hard. You leave early in the morning and get home late in the evening." "Yes, that's true," he said, "but you're a part of us now, Freya. Perhaps you don't feel the same, but we see you as family. My working hard is no excuse for the lack of time I've spent with you." He watched me intensely, his eyes burning as he spoke. He leaned in close then and I was made acutely aware of his masculine scent. It was sandalwood, I realized. "There's no need to be hard on yourself for my sake," I said, eyes wide at his proximity. "I like being hard on myself when it comes to you," he said, subtly leaning in further still. He smiled a cheeky grin and continued, "But as I was saying before you started making excuses for me, I regret that you and I haven't grown closer. Which is why I took it upon myself to take the day off. But don't tell Erik." "Why not?" I asked. "He'll hover around, tease me, get possessive over you," he listed, explaining, "its what he does." "And is that what you do?" I inquired, wondering if he was made jealous easily. He licked his bottom lip when he smiled. "That's not really my style," he said. "And what is your style?" I asked with a smile, hoping my questioning didn't come off as an interrogation. "I think a girl ought to do as she pleases. For example, if you were mine, I wouldn't hover around as a constant reminder that I'm the only you can have," he leaned back against the chair, putting his hands behind his head. His biceps bulged in the sleeves of his shirt, contouring each strain of muscle in a perfect outline. "How would you keep me, or any girl, from straying with an attitude like that?" I asked, playing along. "Some women would take advantage of the situation." "I would give you memories," he replied. "Memories?" I repeated. "Oh, yes," he began, with a smile. "I would train your mind and your body to crave me. Perhaps we're with company and I slide a hand on your hip. You'll remember how I grabbed them the night before as I fucked you from behind." We were silent for a moment. Both breathing a little harder after that. I was watching his chest rise and fall, or rather, watched his shirt tighten and loosen on his body as he breathed. Our knees were touching under the table, of which I was suddenly hyper aware. I licked my now parched lips and swallowed my nerves. "That's very explicit," I muttered, my eyes meeting his. He smirked, obviously pleased with my reaction. My cheeks heated under his gaze. Without another word he removed his hands from behind his head and used them instead to clean up our dishes. He got up and carted them away. I watched in wonder as he cleaned the dishes at the sink, seemingly having no issue at the chore of keeping tidy. He even washed up the stop top under my observance. Only now did I notice the dark, indigo jeans he wore which fit him very nicely. I heard footsteps coming from the hallway and saw Erik still wearing the ice pack strapped to his head except now sunglasses were shading his eyes. He weakly fumbled to the fridge, opening the drawer to the freezer and leaned over it. He stared at the contents of it intensely before pulling off the ice pack on his head and replacing it with a fresh one. He took a deep breath as he stood, leaving the freezer door open. "I'm going to Stella's," he announced, standing blank faced in the middle of the kitchen. "Erik, its eight o'clock in the morning," Oliver tutted. Erik turned in a circle, almost losing his balance as he did. He looked up at the clock on the wall. "Actually, Olison, it is 7:46," he corrected in as snooty a tone as he could muster amid the hang over. "Either way-" Oliver began. "Either way, more alcohol is the answer," Erik interrupted. Then he trudged to the door, slumping against anything that could take his weight on the way out. He shut the door behind him. "Is he safe to drive like that?" I asked, a moment after he'd left. "Oh, no. Erik doesn't drive," Oliver chuckled. Kicking the freezer drawer closed with his foot. "Why not?" "He's a horrible driver," he said. "Can't be that bad." "No, it is," Oliver countered, "He's failed the driving exam eleven times. He walks or runs everywhere. He bikes too, if the weather permits it." "But we live in the middle of the woods. It takes a long time to drive anywhere, it'll take eons to reach wherever he's going by foot," I said, astonished. "He's going to Stella's, the night club in the metro area. Which, yes, is very far even by car. So he'll be gone for a very long while," he stated, quietly finishing up the dishes. He wiped his hands dry with a kitchen towel which had been hanging on the oven door's handle. He walked over to stand next to the dining table and sighed. "He's probably left a huge mess in his room. I'm going to go tidy it up a bit. Want to help?" he offered. "Sure," I agreed. Perhaps this was his way of spending time with me. Much to my surprise, it seemed Oliver was a busy body. We walked to Erik's room, Oliver opened the door, and the room was indeed a mess. The sheets had what looked like claw marks on one side and the blankets were ruffled. There were a couple of beer bottles on the floor, but not too many. Definitely no where close to how many bottles my mom would have lying on the floor after a drunk night. There were a few food wrappers and empty chip bags here and there. Two drawers of his dresser were open, clothes was hanging on the edge or deposited on the floor. There were a couple glasses of assorted beverages like coffee and juice on the end table beside his bed, as well as an ashtray with a couple cigarette butts - one was still smoking. "Damn it, Erik," Oliver cursed, rushing to the ash tray to put out the hazardous cigarette. "Is it always this messy?" I asked, the unkempt state of the room making me anxious. "Oh, no," Oliver replied, "He and Everett aren't as tidy as me, that's for sure. But they're no where near what this mess suggests. Erik isn't a slob normally, but he does turn into one after a night out. I don't know what it is." "Huh," I mumbled. There was a trash can, ironically empty, next to his dresser. Oliver and I began to pick up the trash all over the room. He dumped the ash tray's contents into the waste bin. I picked up the three beer bottles from the floor and deposited them in the trash with the ashes and cigarettes. We started to pick up his clothes and place them in the laundry basket, then made his bed. "Looks like we're done," Oliver said, looking around and admiring our handiwork. "I guess we are," I agreed with my hands resting on my hips. He stared at me with an absentminded smile, a flickering glow in his eyes though there was no light shining on them. I didn't think I would ever understand why their eyes did that. He leaned over onto the bed and quickly grabbed a pillow. I watched in confusion. The bed was already made, there was no need to fix it up anymore than we already had. He threw it at my face. I gasped and stared right at him, eyes wide and mouth open. He had a cheeky grin on his face. "What? Don't you like getting hit on?" Oliver snorted, breaking into laughter at my expression. "Not with a pillow, you dunce!" I cried. "Oh, that's too bad," he said reaching for one of the many other pillows still on Erik's bed. "Don't you dare-" I said, right before another pillow made contact with my face. He stood there, trying to hide his smile with his hand, though his snickering was what infuriated me. "I'm going to destroy you," I threatened, grabbing one of the pillow's he'd thrown. He picked another one up and said, "Bring it on, sweetheart." I jumped onto the bed and started hitting him from above, he blocked my attacks with his own pillow before grabbing my ankles and pulling harshly, making me fall onto the bed on my back. I look toward my feet and saw him crawling over. I tried to inch away, but he grabbed my hips and flipped me onto my stomach. He jumped onto the bed and sat on my thighs, pinning my legs so I couldn't crawl away from him to escape. I clutched the comforter in my fingers, trying to use my upper body strength to get out from under him and he used the opportunity to tickle my underarms. I cried out in laughter, utterly surprised, my nerves stinging with the sensation. My arms shot to my sides, but he quickly withdrew them and focused his attention on my vulnerable waist. I continued to laugh with funny pain, wiggling underneath him and feebly pushing his hands away. "No, stop! Please, Oliver! It tickles!" I cried, screaming laughter and violently flopping around underneath him like a fish out of water. He chuckled, obviously enjoying himself but suddenly withdrew his attacks, lifting his hips off me and letting me free. I took no delays and sprinted out the door. He followed me, having no trouble keeping up yet stayed behind a couple feet, I'm sure, simply to toy with me. "Go away, don't tickle me!" I called out, as I ran toward the kitchen, hiding in refuge behind the dining table. He was on the other side, his eyes glowing brilliantly, his shoulders were a little hunched as he stalked me like prey to the other side of the table, his smile was big and wide, exposing his white and, in this moment, intimidating teeth. His canines seemed a little longer than usual, but I attributed that observation to fear of a very attractive tickle-monster. Three Demons Ch. 07 He rushed to one side and I to the other, but he doubled back and I had to withdraw to square one. I feigned going one side and went the other, but he was too fast for me to get past him. "I will catch you," he promised, "And when I do, I'm going to make you scream." I was sweating from the chase, panting as well. The feel of his muscles when I was under him, the way he hungrily looked at me like I was his next meal, it excited me. I could feel the heat in my belly, but dismissed it as adrenaline. He started going around the table when I made no move and I waited until he was close enough for me to make a run for it. At the last minute, I pushed at the table when he was in the opportune location and it hit him in his side. He paused to hiss is pain and grip his aching hip, while I used the moment to run for the bathroom. As I passed by my room, I saw Felix laying comfortably on the bed and wondered to myself why I hadn't thought of going there instead. Because I slowed to think about that, when I reached the bathroom door Oliver had caught up to me and grabbed me. I squealed with delight, but it was clouded with the fear of being tickled once again. He picked me up and closed the door, locking it too, to stall me if I wanted to leave again. He started tickling me on the floor and I cried out, screwing my eyes shut to endure the tingling of my nerves as I laughed helplessly. I started kicking, and he got pushed into the door by my feet. He laughed, with a hint of a growl, grabbing my ankles and lifting me off the floor with them. He threw them onto his back so that I was hanging off his shoulders by my knees, gripping my thighs to secure me in place while I whooped and wailed excitedly. He opened the shower door and closed it behind us, before leaning in to pull me up and push me against the wall. My back flat against the wall, high up, I was sitting on his shoulders with his face between my legs. His strong hands were holding the outside of my thighs, close to my ass. My panting started to slow into a collection of deep sighs, his breathing slowed the same way. He watched me as we calmed down, watched my reaction as I started to realize that he had deliberately placed us in this situation. I couldn't deny that being in such a risque position after the play chase we had was exciting to me. The longer he stared, with his boyish grin fading into a sultrier expression, the more my body reacted. My cunt started throbbing against my will, defiant in my orders to calm. I started to squirm, trying to be as subtle as possible. Trying to make it look like I was adjusting myself to be more comfortable. But his eyes broke away from mine and he stared straight ahead at the spot just between my thighs. I slipped my fingers in his auburn hair, tugging at the strands so he'd look up at me. I tried to plead with my eyes for him not to continue, but my tongue was silent as I was too weak of will to verbally deny him. He kept his gaze level with mine as he leaned in and kissed my clothed cunt, going so far as to push his tongue against the fabric so I could feel his intent past the clothing I wore. My back arched in reaction and I closed my eyes as I moaned. I didn't feel pressure on my body from his mouth any longer but felt his hands shift underneath me. I looked down and saw he was he was holding me up with one hand, which was very impressive as I was a healthy girl, and with the other he was pulling the cloth protecting my decency to the side. "Wait-" I begged. But before I had another moment to finish what I was saying, his tongue was suddenly sliding against my lips. I squirmed against him, grabbing a handful of his hair in urgency. He continued to skate his tongue on my lips, actively avoiding my clit to, I'm assuming, tease me. His skin was cool to the touch but his mouth contrasted with incredible warmth. His beard was soft against my sensitive skin, yet the hard contrast of his cool teeth against my most sensitive parts drove me over the edge. He was gentle with me, playful even. Expertly pleasing with his mouth, he finally gave me what I wanted when the tip of his tongue met my hypersensitive clit. I cried out as his tongue started to move back and forth on my clit at an impossible speed. He didn't move his head at all to aid in the stimulation, which was as astonishing as the rate. His tongue was the only thing moving. My thighs squeezed around his neck as I squirmed and he growled against me. "Oh fuck," I whimpered. He pulled his face away and I saw the lower half of it was slick with my desire. I felt a pulsating throb from my clit at the sight of him, gasping as a reaction to it. He started trying to pull my shorts off but almost dropped me in the midst of it. He huffed his frustration, staring quizzically at my shorts before coming to a decision. He held me with his hands by my waist and used his teeth to pull my short off my hips. I was impressed immensely by his strength and he never faltered at keeping me up. Once my shorts were low enough on my legs for me to kick them off, he focused on my panties. I suddenly became self-conscious. I was wearing a pair of brown cotton hipsters, nothing sexy or made of lace. My hands dropped to cover my crotch, hoping to shield his eyes from the obscenity of my underwear. He huffed at me and said, "Remove your hands." I whimpered, "But its embarrassing." His jaw visibly tightened as he looked at me. Then he leaned in and bit my hand just hard enough to sting. "Ow!" I cried, "What are you, an animal?" He chuckled darkly and said, "You have no idea." He leaned in once more, mimicking his trick with my shorts to remove my panties until I was bare to him. It was at this moment that I was beyond grateful that I had recently acquired an electric hair trimmer for my lady bits and made use of it in a timely manner. He dove right in, repeating his methods before, starting with the pleasure of my clit. My body was slowly humming its approval as my nerves progressively built their satisfaction. But then he surprised me. He subtly shifted under me, supporting my body's weight with an arm to keep one of his hands free and what he did with that hand blew my mind. He first teased my cunt with just the tip of his fingers, caressing the outside of my hole as he continued the merciless onslaught of his tongue. He was slow, hesitant even with his fingers. Then he started to touch just the past the opening, gently massaging in circles. Then, finally, he slipped one finger in. It was longer and thicker than my fingers and I enjoyed the feel of it immensely. He started to slowly fuck me with a singular digit, just a simple in-and-out motion, keeping a constant pace. I enjoyed it nonetheless. I didn't know when I would come from the stimulation, but it didn't matter. The pleasure of this alone, even without a building sensation, was more than I could ask for. But it seemed he had other plans. His tongue never faltered at its rhythmic flicking, he never turned his head or gave his jaw a break. He gave no indication that he would stop what he was doing to start something more. And that's what made the act of his slipping a second finger into me such a pleasant surprise. He continued the simple in-and-out motion of before at first, but after a few minutes he twisted his wrist so that his palm was to the ceiling. Yet he was ever the tease, simply rubbing up top and nothing more. "Oliver, I want it," I begged. He pulled away momentarily to growl, "Oh, I know, my love." "Please, make me come," I begged in the most needy and submissive voice I could muster. He moaned against me and, as a result, his tongue vibrated. I suddenly felt the familiarity of an orgasm's hint. And at that opportune moment, he decided to massage up top of the inside of my cunt in a "come hither" motion. My grip in his hair became almost violent as I came in his mouth. I was ultimately unsure if it was a clitoral orgasm, a vaginal one, or both. I gave a loud, sharp cry of delight before falling limp against him. He continued to support me, gently lowering me down the wall and onto the shower bench. I watched as he wiped his mouth on his forearm and smiled sweetly at me. "You alright there, Freya?" he asked, chuckling and obviously proud of himself. I was panting hard from the aftermath, never satisfied with the amount of air entering my lungs. The beating of my heart was loud in my ears and my head felt heavy, as though I was in dire need of a nap. "What a naughty thing you are," he said, smirking at me as he stood up. When he stood, it came to my attention that his crotch was just a foot away from my face. A bulge was clearly outlined in his trousers and it was just the right size from what I could tell. But then I heard a wet, sloppy sound and looked up to see him licking and sucking on his fingers. "Tasty too," he remarked darkly. How he could even think coherently after an event such as the one that had just passed was beyond me. It was rather annoying how unaffected he was by our little encounter and it infuriated me that a pillow fight could turn into this mess. I decided to get back at him, give him a taste of his own medicine. I stood up and took hold of the collar of his shirt, sitting him down on the shower bench, knowing fully well that I only handled him because he consented it. I got on my knees before him. He smirked at me, his dimples denting his bearded cheeks. "Does your depravity ever end?" he teased. "Make another comment and I'll bite you," I warned, undoing his pants with first the button and then the zipper. I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his pants and just before I got the chance to tug his trousers down he grabbed my wrists and leaned in. "Bite me and your tush will be dawning purple come morning," he threatened. I shivered, excited at the prospect. He let go of my wrists once he saw the mischievous smile on my lips. He licked his bottom lip and started to undue his dress shirt slowly like it was a striptease. I stood frozen and watched him. He was deliberately slow at his task, rubbing at his neck every once in a while as though he was doing some strenuous activity. I couldn't help but smile to myself, a little surprised that Oliver had a side like this to him. When the last button came undone under the influence of his fingers and the observation of my keen eyes, he slowly tugged the ends of his shirt opposite each other to expose his chest and front to me. He was bigger than Erik, his shoulders were wider but his waist was about the same width. His chest was pleasantly taut, his core a set of four. His arms weren't as daunting as his shoulders, but there was no way I'd ever doubt their strength after he held me against the wall for who knows how long. He shrugged the dress shirt off, folding it and placing it beside him on the bench, to my surprise. I helped him tug his jeans off his hips and down his legs, he kicks off his shoes, and once his trousers are off I pull away each sock from his feet. I hand the clothing to him and he neatly folds it, placing each item on top of the dress shirt beside him on the bench. I chuckle at his quirkiness but, at the same time, appreciate the amount of care he extends to his belongings. He slides his thumbs under the waist of his boxers and I push his hands away, tutting him like a little kid. He smirks at my attitude, though he's puzzled at my hesitation. Then his eyes go wide when I lean in and fondle him through the fabric of his boxers with my tongue just as he did earlier to me. He exhales harshly, apparently not as patient when being teased as he expects others to be. When I looked up at him, he was quite obviously enjoying himself. I pulled away and was about to pull his boxers off his person but he quickly beat me to it and his lower half was as exposed as the top half in a blink of my eyes. I chuckle to myself at his enthusiasm as I lean forward again and begin to examine his cock. In appearance, it reminded me of an extra long bullet. His shaft was evenly proportioned from tip to base. The head was rounded and a pale pink in color to match his pretty lips. It was a few inches longer than the distance between my wrist and the tip of my middle finger. In truth, it was plenty, if not a little intimidating. But I hid my hesitation as I didn't want to discourage him. On the inside, I was freaking out. He gasped quietly and swallowed as I took hold of it in my hand. It felt like a pulsating iron beam covered in slightly clammy silk. I just held it for a while, feeling its weight, observing it. I slid my fingertips along the bottom of his shaft and looked up into his eyes when I heard him exhale. "Do you like how that feels?" I asked with a grin. He exhaled forcefully, in a laugh. "Yeah," he said. "That's good," I murmured, shifting my gaze back to the object in my hand. I removed my hand momentarily to lick the palm, before spreading the wetness around the head. He gasped and I couldn't help but smile when I saw his excitement bead at the eye of his cock. I started spreading that, in addition to my saliva, thoroughly lubricating all the way to the base of his shaft. I wrapped my fingers around him in a snug grip before taking a tug. He groaned as I started to jerk him off. He kept groaning and gasping as I continued to tease him with my hand, his voice getting deeper and more primal until it started to sound like a frustrated growl. He wanted more, I knew that. Watching him struggle was so much more entertaining than giving him what he wanted though. "How bad do you want to fuck my mouth?" I asked, a mischievous smile on my face. He bit his lip and laughed bitterly. "You know what you're doing, don't you?" He asked, just before his brows knit and his mouth formed an "o" as I picked up the pace. "Would you prefer me to be innocent?" I asked, licking my unoccupied hand before adding it to my task. He gripped the edge of the shower bench, his knuckles turning white. "I prefer you as you are." "That's what I thought," I chuckled, twisting both my hands on him. He moaned for the first time and that got me excited. It was such a nice sound, deep and throaty with just the right amount of a whimper to it. He screwed his eyes shut and his body tensed. "Look at me, Oliver," I said, softly. He opened his eyes at once. "How would you like to feel my lips on you? Or my tongue?" I breathed, licking my lips to sell it. His cock was throbbing - he was close, I could feel it. "Bad," he admitted, before exhaling hard. I bit my lip and smiled. "Come for me," I said, hoping my smile was as sultry as I intended. His chest rose and fell as he started to pant. He kept his eyes locked on mine as I milked him to satisfaction. His hips tensed, his eyes screwed shut, and he cried out when he came. His mess shot out and landed onto my neck, feeling warm and gooey. I giggled as he started to descend from the high, flattered at the impact I had. I pulled my underwear and shorts back on, promising to clean myself up later. He muttered, "Oh, fuck," just as I opened the glass door and stepped out of the shower. I walked up to the vanity, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair looked silky, if a little frizzed, and my skin glowed; it seemed sexual pleasure agreed with me. I bent over to wash the come off my neck and out of the hair that was affected. He stepped out of the shower, now fully clothed and standing behind me, looking at me through the mirror. "You can't deny that my tickling is very effective," he said, with his hands in his jean pockets, a little smirk on his face. I snorted. "You probably planned the entire thing," I joked. He shrugged. "Maybe," he said. He leaned forward and studied my neck. "It's too bad you didn't get to taste me," he casually mentioned. "Oh?" I asked with a knowing smile, "Maybe for you." "You missed a spot," he said, wiping some come off my neck with his fingers. He turned around for a moment, I could see the towels behind shifted just around the reflection of his back in the mirror. I stood up once I'd finished and turned off the faucet. There was a hand towel hanging on a rack by the mirror, I grabbed it and started patting my neck dry. He turned back around, silently watching me. Once my neck was dry, I turned around to face him. He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me onto the top of the vanity, just off the edge of the sink. "What are you doing?" I asked, playfully. He only smiled at me, not saying a word, and kissed me. I slid my hands in his hair and licked at his closed lips, seeking entrance. He parted them to give passage and when our tongues met I tasted something just a tad salty and dense in texture. My eyes popped open in surprise when I realized I was tasting come, his come. I pulled away, swallowing what he gave me. He dawned a smirk. I slowly wiped at the corner of my lips with my thumb. "You're a sneaky thing," I teased, "Clever too." "Like a fox," he offered. "Yeah, sure," I laughed in agreement. "You know," I began, "it really is funny how this all began. With us cleaning..." His expression darkened with worry at my silence. "Freya?" "Erik," I whispered. "What?" "Oliver, you can't tell Erik about this. Please don't tell Everett either." "Why not?" he asked. But I was silent. I didn't want to verbalize it, that would give it power. I didn't want him to know that it was because I wanted Erik the same way I wanted him. That I still wanted to know what it was like to be with Everett. It was too screwed up. How could I explain the betrayal of my actions? I was leading Erik on while engaging in deviance with Oliver, all while still pining after Everett. They were friends. I was just a girl they'd taken in in good faith. How could I even begin to make this okay? Something about the way my eyes pleaded him exposed me. "You want us all," he said, with final realization. "No," I whimpered, looking away and trying to hide my face and my shame behind my hair. Gentle arms cradled me in the kindest and most welcome of embraces. He cooed in my ear and ushered my head to rest against his warm, taut chest. "Don't be ashamed around me, hon," he said, "I will be the last person to judge you." "But its disgusting," I protested, my eyes pooling. "I'm not like this. I don't know what's wrong with me, I-I'm not a whore." "No, you're not," he said, in a voice like steel. He placed his strong hands on either side of my face and turned my head so I'd look up at him. "There is nothing wrong with you. What you feel is natural. It doesn't seem that way because of the way this society has raised you, but its in your DNA." My eyebrows pushed together in my confusion. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I know it doesn't make sense," he commended, one hand on the back of my neck in a reassuring stability while the fingers of the other soothed me with sweet caresses on my cheek. "We'll talk more about it another day, just know now that your secret is safe with me for as long as you want and that I am completely accepting and encouraging that you pursue both Erik and Everett in addition to me." "You're right, that doesn't make sense," I said with a laugh. He smiled and kissed my forehead tenderly. "It doesn't matter if it does. Its supposed to be this way, like fate. Just know that you can trust me." "I do trust you," I said, speaking truth. And I did trust him. I had opened up to him about something that had been weighing on my chest since the moment I met them and he reassured me that there was nothing bad about what I was feeling. I just didn't know if Erik and Everett would be as forgiving. "Lets go watch some TV on the couch, yeah?" he suggested. I nodded in agreement and he wrapped an arm around me as we walked toward the living room. I sat on the sofa and he lounged in his usual spot: the armchair. He picked up the TV remote from the coffee table and with a flick of his thumb the screen before us turned on to an episode about some bald man making meth. Which reminds me. "Why does Erik have cat drugs in his room?" Three Demons Ch. 07 Oliver turned to me with a look of bewilderment. "Why does Erik have what?" he asked. "Catnip. I saw it in a small pot in his room. I was going to ask you about it but then, I don't know, things happened," I explained, chuckling by the end. He snorted and started laughing. "What?" I asked, confused by his reaction. "I'm sure he has his reasons, but you're going to have to ask him about that," he said, still laughing. Perhaps it was a stupid question to ask, I thought. I wouldn't bother Erik with that. I did see a cat the first night I slept over on that fateful day. Maybe Erik fostered cats from time to time and it was for that black cat with the twinkling green eyes. Twinkling. Green eyes. Erik. How coincidental. Almost like a young adult romance on the shelves of popular bookstores today, I thought. I laughed to myself. Erik wasn't a damn were-cat, things like that didn't exist outside of books and imaginative heads. Our world was mundane, dull, boring. Nothing supernatural or fantastical happened outside of TV dramas and fiction, much to my disdain. Why would documentation of such intriguing creatures exist if only to disappoint? Perhaps in a better world, my hands could wield magic and Erik could turn into a cat and I could have all three of the men who had caught my eye. But in a better world, I wouldn't wear scars from my mother. Felix crawled out from underneath the couch I sat on and I took up the baby voice I used around animals and children. "Hey there, big guy. Is that where you were hiding? Silly, come sit with me," I cooed, patting the cushion beside me. Felix jumped up and slumped against me, resting his head on my thigh. Today had a happy ending and I hoped tomorrow wouldn't be a nightmare. But perhaps it wouldn't be with Oliver on my side. Three Demons Ch. 08 "Freya." "Mmm." "Freya, wake up. We don't have much time." I groaned and opened my eyes. Oliver was sitting beside me on my bed. "Oliver. What is it?" I asked. "Damn, your hair looks horrible when you just wake up," he remarked. I furrowed my eyebrows as I rubbed the sand from my eyes, with a huff of offense. "You wake me up to insult me?" I bellowed. He laughed. "Poor girl, no need to take it badly. Might as well accept it," he said. I sat up and exhaled forcibly. He smiled and turned away, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking at the ground as if to mull over something. I took the opportunity to quickly tame my hair with my fingers as best I could without the help of a mirror. When he turned back to look at me, I quickly put my hands at my sides. His mouth had been open as if he wanted to say something, but then he shut it and smiled. "What?" I asked, feigning oblivion. He scooted closer and leaned in. I felt his fingers undoing the knotted tangles in my hair and smoothing the frizz. "You're sweet," he cooed, once he'd finished. His doe brown eyes fixated on mine and a happy-go-lucky smile graced his bearded mouth. He held my face between his strong hands, running his thumbs over my cheeks affectionately. His eyelashes shaded his face as he looked at my lips before kissing them. His lips were soft but sure against mine, his tongue skidded across my mouth to politely seek entrance. I let him in and when our tongues met I could clearly taste sweet mint. I had saliva pooled in the back of my mouth from my night's sleep and quickly swallowed, hoping my mouth didn't taste like drool. But if he did notice, he gave no sign of dislike toward me, none at all. One of his hands pressed against the side of my neck and slid down to massage my shoulder. There was no hunger behind the kiss as we continued to tie tongues, just patience and affection. My hands slid up his sides to grab at his back and I moaned against him. Oliver had been waking me up this way for the past few days since our last 'encounter.' He woke about 15 minutes before everyone else did to give me secret kisses. He was always gentle despite his teasing words, always ending it with a quaint nibble to my lips. And there it was; I felt him pull away just enough to close his teeth around my lip. His fingers slid down my body, between my breasts and down my navel to rest at my hip. Only then did he release my lip from between his teeth and end the kiss. He got off the bed and stepped away before turning to the door. I quickly stood up and jumped in front of him, as I had every other day he'd visited me, to stand on my toes so I could reach my lips to his. He took hold of me at my waist to lift me up, so that my mouth was level with his, and I took the opportunity to wrap my legs around his torso and my arms around his neck. He pushed me against the wall and the kiss became hungrier, just as it had the past few days. He would press his pelvis against mine and just when I started feeling him getting hard, he would pull away and set me down on my feet before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him. I turned away then, to settle back down in bed. Felix was awake now, laying complacently by the foot of the bed. I affectionately pet his head and asked him if he needed to go out, to which he responded by immediately standing up and jumping onto the floor as if ready to go. I led him out of the room and saw Everett emerge from his, half naked. He was big and brawny, a light dusting of blonde hair gracing his taut chest down to his ribs. A similar trail of hair started just under his navel and disappeared under his sweats. His hair was in its usual, messy braid and his jaw dawned its always two-day old stubble. He smiled at me, looking me over with my still undoubtedly messy hair and the white crust dried a few inches away from my mouth. "Good morning, Freya," he said. I was wearing a long, old shirt. His eyes flickered with their signature glow as his gaze shifted between my face and my body. I groaned when I finally realized my nipples beading as a result of what was becoming a morning ritual with Oliver. I crossed my arms over my chest and his smile turned into one very broad grin. "You're up early," he commented, slowly prowling closer. "I've been having trouble sleeping lately," I explained, wiping the sand from the corner of my eye. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his biceps bulging along with his taut chest. His white hair fell into his glowing, golden eyes but he didn't seem to notice. "Maybe you're restless," he remarked, "I can help with that." "Oh, really?" I asked, covering my yawning mouth with a hand, "Sorry," I muttered. He smiled, lines forming around the corners of his mouth. "Maybe you could come with us when we go for runs in the evening," he suggested. "I don't think so, I'm not much of an athlete. I mean, I enjoy some things. Running is too boring and difficult for me," I rambled. My eyes fixed on his arms. He didn't have any hair on the top half of them, bringing his visibly hard muscle to my attention. His forearms and hands had a pleasant golden fuzz about them and they flexed beautifully under my observance. His shoulders were wide, but his waist was small. His skin was a light caramel, shining though there was no light. I felt my knees weaken. "I admit it can be a difficult task at first, but I don't think I'd have trouble keeping you entertained," he began, watching my trembling lower limbs with obvious concern, "but maybe we'll find another passtime that'll exhaust you." "Right," I agreed awkwardly, before heading into the bathroom and quickly shutting the door behind me. That was horrible. You were horrible, Freya, I chastised myself. I wanted to talk to him as easily as I could talk to Erik or Oliver but he was rarely ever around and we barely knew each other as a result. He was always working or out in the evening on some sort of business venture. Sometimes I thought his boss was cruel to make him work that long, when Oliver had the same employer and didn't slave away endlessly like his coworker did. I turned on the faucet and wet my blue toothbrush before smearing it with toothpaste and shoving it into my mouth to scrub at my teeth as I thought. In the past couple of days, Oliver and I had barely discussed our plans to get Everett and Erik to agree to...honestly, I didn't know what they were agreeing to. Or what I was agreeing to. Or even if what Oliver was suggesting was something I was interested in. Well, that's a lie. I was interested, I was just worried about how badly things could turn out if we weren't careful. Sometimes I wasn't even sure Everett was interested in me. He watched me quite a bit, hungrily I might add, but he never made a move like both Erik and Oliver had. A part of me was a little offended, for lack of a better word. I knew it was arrogant and childish to expect all three of them to want me badly. Wasn't it irresponsible to lead all three of them on once I had officially gained their interest? Perhaps not in Oliver's case as he was the one who suggested this mess. I spit the froth that had accumulated in my mouth into the sink and continued brushing. Oliver had given me a lot of information on Erik that I had previously failed to notice. I assumed he was unemployed as all he seemed to do on a day to day basis was cook a few meals, watch TV shows, and nap. But Oliver assured me he did have a job. Apparently, Erik was employed under the same company as Oliver and Everett, but he worked at a different branch. He was a researcher, a security tech, a hacker, among other things. He worked on the cyber security of the company and gathered any digital intel that existed and could come of use. I was surprised by this, asking where he got the time. "He usually naps during the day so he can work at night," Oliver explained. And upon my inquiry as to why he worked at night, Oliver said, "Its how he works best. He's a nocturnal creature by default, Freya, best you remember that." "So what do you do then? What is your official job title?" I asked. "I'm part of the company's legal defense, officially, but I do a lot more than that. The company pays well enough to keep them as my only client, so I have all this free time on my hands. I secure relations with other businesses and banks. I basically schmooze whoever I can to keep the company's agenda in motion." "Why would you do that?" I asked. "Are you getting paid to do that?" "Well, no. But I own a large share of the company, its in my best interest to keep it up and running." "Wow, you must be loaded. So why do you live here, in the middle of no where? With roommates, even!" I questioned him, unable to contain my bewilderment. "Erik, Everett and I," he began, "We're the same," At my look of confusion he continued, "I know that sounds like a ridiculous notion at first, but the truth is that we are the same. There are many differences, quirks, that each of us have which separates us into individuals - to that there is no argument. We've known each other since we were children and have remained close friends until today. I have no doubt that we will continue to stand by each other like brothers to the day we die, no matter what troubles we face. When you strip away the quirks, the differences, what remains is the very core of our beings. That base part of us is what ties us together." "That sounds..." "Ridiculous, I know," he commended. "I was going to say a head trip, but yes," I remarked, with a satiric laugh. "You'll see for yourself one day," he returned, ending the conversation. I spit out the froth from the toothpaste a second time and rinsed my mouth and the brush. I washed my face and dried it with a towel afterward. I left the bathroom and headed for my room, then sat on my bed before realizing that I'd forgotten to take Felix out. I quickly got up and started looking for him. I called out his name several times, but he was no where to be found. I heard Erik call out from the kitchen, "Everett took him out the back door!" "Thank you!" I called back to him, before rushing to the hall closet to put on my boots and winter coat. After heading out the back of the house, I spotted Felix at the edge of the woods. I walked down the steps to the path in the backyard and there was Everett, leaning against the exterior of the house. The wind blew and bit cold into my bones. I zipped the coat up and lifted the hood, shivering where I stood. How stupid was I not to put pants on before coming out here. I huddled over to where Everett stood, watching Felix sniff around. Even he was shaking slightly, poor bastard. I turned my head to look at Everett and he wasn't wearing any outerwear, not even a sweater! He was still in his sweats from before, with the addition of his work boots and a thin gray tee. "Aren't you cold?" I blurted, trying my hardest to keep my teeth from chattering. He turned his head and looked down at me. His smile was soft and he gently shook his head. "You are," he noted. His eyes flickered with that golden light again, I just turned and ignored it. "I am," I confirmed, "Freezing." He chuckled. "You should've put some pants on," he tutted. I looked at the ground to hide the blush heating my cheeks, making them as red as I'm sure my nose was at this point. I turned and spotted the thermometer on the wall by the door. I squinted to see what the temperature was. "Its 40 degrees out!" I bellowed, astonished that he was comfortable in his attire. He turned to look at the thermometer as well, before turning back to watch Felix. "So I gather." "How in seven hells are you not cold?" I practically yelled. He just shrugged. I shut my mouth after that, unsure how to continue on to a different topic. I watched Felix as well, shivering the entire time, before progressively becoming agitated and then furious. Why the hell should I freeze to death while he's as comfortable as can be? I thought. A smile formed at my lips as a nasty thought crossed my mind. I sprinted the 5 feet of distance between us and slid my cold-as-ice hands under his shirt, feeling his skin burning under my touch. I would've removed my hands as soon as I saw his annoyed gaze directed at me, but my hands were warming up nicely and once they were at an optimal temperature, I kept them there to feel his marble muscle under my hands. How does someone turn into a rock? I wondered, as I kept fondling his stomach. "Freya," he said. I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his gaze, yet my hands refused to move. "Freya," he repeated. "Yes?" I asked. "You're touching me," he answered. I looked down at my hands and then back up at his face. "Yes," I agreed. He scoffed and smiled, tussling my newly brushed hair into a tangled mess with a heavy hand. I rubbed my face against it affectionately and he only laughed, pushing me away by my forehead. "You're warm," I protested. "I am aware," he remarked, watching Felix trot back to us. He squatted down, Felix approaching him instead of me, and pet the mutt on the head, scratching behind his ears and showing Felix more kindness than I'd received from him in the past ten minutes. I wanted to ask him if there was a reason why he was so warm, if maybe he had a fever, just to be polite and create a means of conversation with him. He turned my way and interrupted me just as I was opening my mouth. "You should get him inside, maybe feed him. He seems hungry to me," he said, before standing up. The vibe he gave off was one that screamed disinterest, much to my annoyance. "Yeah, I'll do that," I said, plastering a smile on my face. What are you, the dog whisperer? I thought maliciously. "Come on, Felix," I muttered, patting my leg and heading up the stairs. I opened the door and Felix trotted inside, following me around like a lost puppy. He nuzzled at my hand with his snout and I seethed from irritation, "Stop!" He dropped his head to the floor in a submissive crouch. If his tail had been longer, it would've been between his legs. The guilt hit me immediately. I dropped into a squat so that we were the same height and pet his head soothingly, paying special attention to his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible owner, I shouldn't lash out at you. You deserve better," I squealed, my words spilling out of my mouth. I heard a snort. "You're not that bad," I head Erik say. I looked up at him. He had a steaming pot of coffee in one hand and an empty mug dangling off his fingers by it's handle in the other. "Coffee?" he asked. I stood. "No, thanks," I replied, waving my hand dismissively. I walked over to the kitchen, opening the pantry where I kept the dog food, and filled Felix's bowl. Erik followed me the way there, leaning on the closest countertop to me. He poured the coffee into the mug anyway, raising it up to his lips and saying, "Suit yourself," before taking a sip. His face twisted with distaste and he muttered, "Too bitter," as he trudged away to where the sugar was kept. I sat down at the dining table, dropping my head against it with a thud, passively watching Felix wolf his kibble down his throat. I heard Erik walk back over to the dining table, pull out a chair next to mine, and sit in it. "Why so glum, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning forward so that his chin rested on his crossed arms at the table. "Don't laugh, okay?" I pleaded pathetically. My eyes shifted to meet his green gaze. He was such a handsome guy with perfect cheekbones and the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. Sometimes, his face held an almost feminine look to it from the delicacy of his features. He was the complete opposite of Everett in almost every aspect. "I promise," he agreed, leaning back just enough to trace a cross over his heart with his finger. His eyes crinkled with sincerity while his full lips stretched into their default predatory grin. I sighed, smiling absentmindedly back at him. "I like you," I shared, my smile growing broader. "I like you too," he replied, his smile mimicking mine. "You know how you said you'd wait for me to make a decision?" I asked, "That I had to make the next move," I explained further. His body visibly tensed and I saw his eye twitch. His sweet smile straightened into a serious line and I wanted to laugh at how nervous this made him in an instant. "Yes," he said. "Well, I think I've made my decision," I began with a smile. I paused then, watching his pretty face and adoring ever part. I felt an inkling of love for this man, I cared for him. I'd wanted him from day one and I'd kept him waiting long enough, right? Right, I thought. "I-" "Morning guys," Oliver practically shouted, interrupting me. "Gee, am I hungry," he continued. Erik sat up straight and covered his face with his hands, digging into his skin with his nails. "I hate you, Ol," Erik groaned. "Uh huh," Oliver said, opening the fridge and leaning over it to observe its contents. "So what are we eating?" "There's food on the stove," I answered. Oliver turned to look at it. "So there is," he mumbled. "Freya, can you find Everett and tell him breakfast is ready?" My face twisted with distaste; I didn't really want to endure another awkward conversation with Everett, but Oliver continued to look at me expectantly. I sighed. "We'll talk later tonight, hon," I promised Erik, placing my hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. I sighed, not looking forward to speaking to Everett so soon. I walked to the back door and exited house. I didn't immediately see him. I started walking around, but I still couldn't find him. What I did find, however, was his clothes by the air conditioning unit. My eyebrows knit together in confusion. Odd, I thought. Why would his clothes be here? I sorted through them and, sure enough, his boxers were tucked in his sweats, underneath his shirt. His boots were beside the pile of his clothing on the air unit, his socks stuffed inside them. I stared at the clothes, then at the treeline just yonder, with the wheels in my head turning. I squinted at the treeline suspiciously. "What if..." Then I spotted something. At first I didn't notice it because it blended in with the white of the snow. Far off there was what looked like a white wolf and it was staring right at me. It was beautiful, really. Shiny fur, big and obviously athletic. I watched it, mesmerized. I wasn't even aware that there were wolves in these parts. I smiled and took a few steps toward the woods to get a closer look at it. After that we both stood motionless, watching each other. It was as if he was just as interested in me as I was in him. I smiled and walked closer still, able to see its face better. Golden eyes. "Freya, where are you?" I heard Erik call from inside. I heard the door open, "Oh, there you are," he said. I turned to look at him. "What are you doing out here?" "I went to find Everett like Oliver told me to," I began, "But he wasn't here, just his clothes, and-" I turned to look at the forest but the wolf was gone. "And?" "Why are his clothes here?" I asked, still staring out toward the woods. "Hmm," Erik said, his tone suggesting confusion, "Maybe he went out running before everyone woke up and was sweaty, then got undressed. He's eccentric, I don't know. He's probably taking a shower as we speak." It was possible. He was very warm when I touched him earlier, maybe he'd come outside to cool off. There were no sweat stains, not even an odorous smell, to his clothing that might suggest he went out for a run. "Maybe," I agreed. "Come inside, get that coat off," Erik suggested, waving me in with his hand. I did as he asked and slowly took each step. He held the door open for me until I could hold it open for myself and headed back inside. I looked out at the tree line again, one last time, and there was the white wolf. He was sitting on his hind legs, watching me curiously. It made me smile. Three Demons Ch. 08 I headed back inside and shrugged out of my coat as Erik had suggested, placing it on a wooden hanger in the hall closet. I kicked off my boots and looked toward the kitchen. Oliver and Erik were talking excitedly to each other though I barely paid attention to what they said. "I'm going to change into something a little warmer," I called out to them as I headed down the hallway toward all our bedrooms. "Okay," they both called back in unison before continuing their chatting. I walked my cold, bare feet stealthily across the wooden floor, unsure of what I was hiding from. Everett's room was between Oliver's and Erik's at the very end of the hallway. I slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. I entered his room and closed the door behind me, though I didn't shut it all the way in case I had to slip out quickly. His room was nicely decorated with dark, wood furniture in a baroque style. The walls were painted a dark green and the lighting was minimal apart from the huge skylight that took up almost all of his ceiling just above his bed. I looked at the sky through it. How beautiful would the stars be from here at night, I thought. Though I doubted I'd sleep well with the moon shining down on me as I tried to rest. I wandered around his room aimlessly, feeling a pull to something that I couldn't pinpoint. I touched the wood of his dresser, aware of the mirror attached to the top of it. Then I felt my body heat and images flash before my eyes. It was as if I didn't see what was in front of me, but instead saw a dream. I heard noises and voices that I was sure weren't there. I felt strong, callused hands lifting up my dress. "Everett, don't stop," I heard what sounded like my voice say. The hands gripped my hips hard, surely bruising me, squeezing to the bone. I felt hard muscle and bone grinding against my ass and banging my front against the smooth wood of the dresser. "I'd never stop, my love," I heard Everett say in a dark and raw voice. I felt something fill me up, like a cock would, could feel my cunt being stretched even though nothing was there. I gasped and cried out in pain before gripping the edge of the dresser until my knuckles turned white like ivory. "I love that sound," I heard him moan, just before he tore the shirt of my dress open to expose my bra. He pulled the cup of it down and grabbed my breast, palming it and squeezing at it just the way I liked. I looked up at the mirror and saw myself in a lovely, emerald dress that accentuated my curves with the fabric torn at my chest to expose a lace bra I didn't own. Everett's large hands gripping my hip and breast, the dress bunched up at my waist. I looked at his face. His mouth and nose were stretched out like the snout of a large dog and the white of his eyes were replaced by black. The iris was a bright gold, looking exactly like wolf eyes. His mouth was in a snarl, his teeth a sharpened set of canines. I was bleeding from where he'd bitten me at my neck as well as at my hip and breast where he'd held me. That's when I noticed the claws. "What are you doing in here?" The question seemed to wake me up. I blinked and I saw only my reflection in the mirror. I saw my pouting red lips, pooled with blood, and my cheeks rosy with heat. I saw Everett standing at the door, his hand still enclosed around the knob. I realized how I must look to him, bent over and gripping the edge of the dresser in nothing but that old shirt that was just too big for me. I felt the cold air on my ass and snapped up to stand straight. I turned to face him. "I-," I helplessly began, "I-" He stepped into the room and quickly, quietly shut the door behind him. His nose twitched as if he could smell something. "Smells awfully sweet in here," he murmured before I could explain myself. I sniffed the air too, curiously, but there was no sweet scent that I could detect. He walked over to sit at the foot of the four-poster bed. I noticed he was wearing the clothing I'd just previously seen lying discarded outside. He started to pull the shirt up and over his head. I felt as though I was intruding. "I'll leave you be," I mumbled, staring at the floor and trudging toward the door. I felt only embarrassment as I crossed the distance necessary to reach the only exit in the room. I heard a thud just as my hand touched the door's knob. I looked up toward the sound and saw Everett's hand plastered just above my head, blocking the door from opening. I felt his hand on my shoulder and he turned me around. I started panting as he leaned in to my side to bury his face in my hair and deeply inhale. I felt a tinge of fear; Everett had never acted this way before. When he exhaled it was deep and forced, sounding close to a growl. "You smell good enough to eat," he said. I was frozen in place, too afraid to move, almost as a rabbit would in face of a predator. "I mean, I-," I mumbled, "I showered last night." I screwed my eyes shut in embarrassment as soon as I'd said it. I felt him back away from me and opened one eye just a smidge to see his reaction. He carried a lighthearted smile on his lips. He exhaled a laugh and tousled my hair just before smoothing it over, as though fixing whatever damage he'd caused to it. "You're an odd little girl," he remarked. I flinched at the statement, feeling oddly patronized. "I'm not a little girl," I insisted. "Yes, you are," he said, in a condescending tone. "No," I insisted still, looking away and tightening my jaw into a scowl. He chuckled at my pouting and booped my nose. My eyebrows furrowed in annoyance but then he said, "Little nose." His fingertips gently touched my lips. "Little mouth," he continued, his voice becoming quiet. His fingers trailed along my neck, sending shivers down my spine in the process, only to continue down the curve of my shoulder and the length of my arm. He held my hand in his, the mass of it covering mine, before he said, "Little hands." His hand let go of mine to be filled with a chunk of my hip instead and it rubbed at my side for a while, inching closer and closer to my bottom. But my ass was no where near 'little' of which I'm sure he was aware, because his hand started to move upward. His free hand joined in on the opposite side and they both stopped at my waist and squeezed. "Little waist," he exhaled, his voice thick with need. I sharply inhaled then, my thighs squishing closed and pushing against my clothed cunt as I squirmed. His eyes met mine, they were curious in gaze despite his sultry tone. He tilted his head to the side and flashed me a crooked smile. "Little stature," he commented. I blinked a few times as the fog of my mind cleared. "Did you just call me short?" I asked. He let go of my waist and licked his lip with a smile. "Go get dressed, Freya," he said. "There are some animals out there who'd love to take advantage of a girl like you." "Why worry about the pigs in the streets when there's a wolf in this very room?" I asked, defiantly. I felt very confident in my words then, smiling triumphantly at him. He only smiled languidly before pulling me closer to him with a grip on my wrist. For a moment I became excited at that, but my enthusiasm was crushed once he opened the door and ushered me toward it. I turned and pouted, feeling awfully rejected. A brilliant idea came to mind then. As I was walking out the door I arched my back just enough and stretched in a way that made my ass look very appetizing from his viewpoint. I gave a lazy moan for added effect, thinking: I've got him now. But no, no I didn't. I heard the door shut behind me and when I turned toward the sound, I saw that it was indeed closed shut. I even heard him turn the lock on it. "Huh," I muttered. Maybe I read that wrong, I thought. I continued down the hall with my room as the ultimate destination. I entered it with Felix trotting over to follow me inside, closing it behind us. I locked it too, before walking to the edge of my bed and slumping onto it with my head buried in a pillow. I felt Felix jump onto the bed with me, heard his tags jingling as he tromped along the mattress looking for a cozy spot. He ultimately chose to sit against my hip in a way that made me horribly uncomfortable, but I was too depressed to do anything anything about it. There was an electronic clock beside my bed that I continuously stared out for what would be the next few hours. Erik had stopped by shortly after I first laid down for my not-nap and invited me to eat breakfast, but I didn't respond and he left after a few unsuccessful attempts to lure me out of my room. A few hours passed and I laid in the same position the entire time. I didn't know what was wrong with me, it was just a hollow feeling. I didn't think about anything at all, not a single thought entered my mind. I just stared at the clock on the end table beside my bed, almost entranced. Erik tried to check on me around three in the afternoon, sounding worried. "Freya, are you okay? You sure you're not hungry?" After a pause of silence, he knocked again. "Freya?" Still, I didn't respond. It barely registered with me that he'd knocked even though I heard him loud and clear. It felt as though I wasn't there. He pounded on the door again, this time more urgently. "Freya!" I felt something stir in me, I wanted to call out that I was fine but my body was frozen in place and a overwhelming sense of calm blurred my thoughts. All I could process was the clock I continued to stare at. I heard a few thuds, muffled as though I was partially deaf. Then a louder pounding sound. There was nothing for a moment, as if someone had paused time. Then I barely heard the pounding of footsteps until strong, urgent hands gripped me at my shoulders and pulled me up. My gaze broke away from the clock and I saw Everett's face yelling at me. I couldn't hear what he was saying, it felt as though I was underwater. Then he smacked me hard enough to sting. That's when sound finally warped in to be clear and distinct. I blinked a few times and my eyes could focus. "Freya! Wake up!" Everett yelled. I struggled to push him off. "Stop," I feebly spoke. He immediately changed. He stood shocked for a moment then touched my face and pushed my hair out of my eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked, breathless. Erik was a few feet behind Everett, watching me with obvious concern. "Yeah," I said, touching a hand to my cheek where I still felt the sting of his slap. "I'm sorry about that," he said, "You were...I...I'm just glad you're okay," he said before hugging me tight. I felt so confused at his reaction, but Erik started rubbing his face with his hands out of despair, or perhaps relief. They were acting odd. "I'm fine," I insisted, my voice small and tired though I didn't know why. "What's wrong with you two?" I asked. "Everett, why aren't you at work?" I continued to blurt questions but neither of them acknowledged that I was even speaking. Erik kept looking like he'd endured some terrible fright and Everett continued to hug me tighter and tighter until I felt my ribs give in, painfully. Everett must've felt my discomfort because he loosened his grip on my waist and kissed my cheek, the one he'd slapped. I felt his tongue slide against the skin and for some reason, the pain was gone. My eyebrows furrowed. Did he just lick me? I thought. He took hold of my hand and pressed it to the side of his head. "Look," he said. I didn't understand what he meant but then images flashed before my eyes. My bedroom door being forced open then I saw me, laying on the bed completely still. My skin was glowing brightly and black ghostly shades swirled around me, one resembling a male hovered just above me about to touch its fingertips to my lips. Then they spotted whoever was seeing this and all of them clung to me. But when I saw Everett's hands touch my shoulders, they dispersed immediately. The one who tried to touch my lips screeched inhumanly and warped into my eyes. Then Everett's hand smacked me and the black was spat out of my eyes and dispersed as well. The image was suddenly gone, as if someone had shut off a screen and I saw Everett's face before me once more. He'd removed my hand from his temple. I simply stared at him in crazed confusion. "I-," I began. "You," he agreed. I shrunk away from him in fear and he only pulled me closer. "You know, Freya," he said. "Everett, its too soon," Erik said. He gripped Everett's shoulder as he spoke, but Everett shrugged his hand away. "You know," Everett repeated, as if I knew what that meant. "Everett, stop!" Erik cried. "She knows," Everett responded. "I felt it earlier today. Its starting." Then I saw only black. Three Demons Ch. 09 I had the worst case of writer's block, you guys. I knew what I wanted to write, but I didn't know exactly how to go about it. I know it's been awfully long though, so for those of you who have stayed patient with me, I offer my thanks and I hope you enjoy. More to come soon. Or at least, sooner. * * * Open. I opened my eyes. It was as though a sudden panic had surged through me so that I'd wake with a start. My eyelids split open but no light entered my pupils; or rather, what did was very minimal. The lack of daylight led me to believe that it was night. I was hyperaware of my surroundings. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could see that I was in my room, laying in my bed. My head snapped to the right to look at the time displayed in neon blue on the digital clock, it was 12.43 AM. I looked straight forward and blinked a few times. Then it all came rushing back - that weird moment with Everett and Erik breaking open the door to my room, the shadows, the glowing skin, and you know. "You know, Freya," Everett had said. What had that meant? What did it mean? I didn't know jack shit. You know, Freya. You knew all along. Silent. It is eerily silent in the house. I get up off the bed, sliding out from under the covers and slip on a pair of pants and some socks. I sneak to the bedroom door. The door and its frame on the wall are splintered near the lock from when Everett's kicked it open, I needn't even twist the knob to open it, just pull; and I did, just a crack. I peered out with one eye down the hallway. There was a pale blue light flashing off the way and the quiet humming of the TV. I opened it wider and hesitantly stepped past, looking toward their rooms. There was no illumination at the bottom of their doors, they were either asleep or had vacated their chambers. I snuck down the hallway, taking cover by the walls, wobbling back and forth from dizziness. I peaked past the corner and saw Oliver slumped in his arm chair, head limp with his chin resting on his chest. It appeared he'd nodded off. Felix rested at his feet and didn't stir at my approach. I stayed put and observed them for a while. He was awfully beautiful, in a curious way. His eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks and sparkled under the influence of the television's light, otherwise they were hard to see. His brow, usually somewhat tense from the worried or serious demeanor he often exhibited, now slack and peaceful. His lips were relaxed, he didn't seem to drool when he slept like I often did. But looking at him made me tense. Erik and Everett had been keeping secrets, Oliver most likely had as well. I didn't know if I should wake him. The dizziness got worse. And if that wasn't bad enough, my stomach decided now would be an ideal time to get nauseous. I clutched my stomach and studied the back door. I didn't bother sneaking, they were both out cold. I rushed to the hall closet and put on my boots, jacket, scarf and hat, then put on my gloves. Then I walked out. And for some reason, I started to run. Run straight for the woods without worrying that I hadn't brought along my phone, or that they'd be worried when they found me missing; I just ran. Then I fell. I'd made it about 100 feet past the tree line when I dived head first into the snow. It was soft, like snow ought to be, and it didn't hurt when my face hit it. I rolled onto my back slowly and looked at the dark sky. Tears started to pool in my eyes and spill out to run down into my hair. I didn't know why I was reacting the way I did, it didn't make any sense and it wasn't rational; it was purely emotional. "You know," I repeated to myself, my tone frustrated and overwhelmed. "No, I don't know. What would I know? Nothing." The words and phrases sounded drawn out as I spoke them even though they were bouncing off the walls of my cranium as I thought them. I started to pant. My head was pounding now. I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing. I could feel the cold bite into my skin at my nose and cheeks. Why is it always so damn cold? Why did I feel so sick? I felt a presence above me. Then I heard a huff and hot breath hit my face. I tensed and braced myself, looking up. The white wolf stood just above me, the one I'd spotted earlier that — day? I wasn't sure how much time had passed since I'd gone under. I whimper then quickly cover my mouth with my hands. What did we do when a wolf was nearby? Freeze, run, or challenge? I couldn't run. There was no way I could challenge it when its teeth were so close to my face and neck. I simply stayed put and looked into its beautiful gold eyes. The wolf lowered its muzzle down, closer to my face, and started to sniff at my hair before focusing its attention to my neck. It tentatively rubbed its face against my neck and jaw, greatly confusing me. It licked at the side of my face while I stayed absolutely still and internally freaked out. It withdrew from me and sat on its hind legs patiently. I sat up slowly and looked at it. It stood and I did the same. The wolf slowly approached me, as thought trying not to spook me, and took hold of my coat's sleeve by its teeth. He then tugged and I was forced to follow as he led me deeper into the woods. I couldn't help but feel that the experience was collectively terrifying, endearing, and bizarre. A wild animal acting this way was so odd, I'd never heard of anything like it. He led me further and further still with me contemplating my options. I didn't know when would be a good time to cut and run away from a beast who would have no problem catching up to me, as athletically challenged as I was. Oh, why hadn't I taken Everett up on the offer to go running with him? I thought. It didn't matter now, I wouldn't have improved enough to outrun a wolf after a my first go. The sound of running water snapped me out of my head and back into the real world. We were standing in front of a relatively small waterfall that flooded into a pond, which in turn fed the stream we'd followed here. The pond was surrounded by snow-dusted evergreens. I looked up at the deep purple sky and all the stars twinkling down as a pleasant snow started to fall. The setting was lovely, peaceful even. The wolf had purpose, however, without any time to stop and enjoy the scenery. It led me to a crevice just off the side of the rock of the waterfall, concealed by closely rooted trees and brush, that resembled a den of sorts. He pulled me by my sleeve to it until I tugged back in uncertainty. I didn't want to go down that hole. I didn't understand why any wolf in their right mind would take a human into their den in the first place. The wolf gave a huff of what was alarmingly close to impatience, sending my mind into a frenzy of assuring myself that I was just imagining things. The wolf took languid steps to stand behind me. After a pause of silence, I turn to look at it, but am shoved into the hole as soon as I try. I fall into the hole on my hands and knees, having squealed when I hit the ground. I tried to crawl backwards out of the hole, but felt what I'm sure was the wolf's head against my ass pushing me forward. I scoffed at the nerve of the creature. There was no way I would entertain him any longer. I pushed my ass back in defiance, trying to force my way out of the den and back into the open. In response, I felt the wolf's nose press flush against the crotch of my pants, pushing the fabric almost past the opening of my cunt. I squealed and lurched forward, quickly crawling further into the den. I swear I heard the wolf bark a laugh at me. "Buffoon," I cursed under my breath. The wolf sneezed. If ever I stopped my crawling into a seemingly endless den, I wouldn't hear - or rather, feel - the end of it, with that stupid canine pressing his snout against my ass like he had the right to. At one point, I'd cut my hand on a rock embedded in the dirt of the tunnel to the den and he'd not only bumped his nose snug against my crotch, he also licked just under the spot where his nose was - which happened to be my lower lips, thankfully covered by two layers of clothing. I hate to admit it, but that sent shivers down my spine and I was getting the female equivalent of a confused boner. I muddled on, unable to see a thing in the pitch black of the underground, and the wolf continued to impatiently head-butt me the whole way. By the end of it he'd be doing it even if I wasn't slowing down or at a stop. It annoyed me enough to throw a sharp kick his way, at which he yelped. When he started growling I'd had enough. "Oh don't start. With the way you've been hounding me," I paused and gave an awkward chuckle at my stupid pun. Then continued, "The point is, you could at least buy me dinner first." To which I outright laughed. After a cramp to the stomach shut me up, the wolf being surprisingly patient through my moment of comedic relief, I realized that I was talking to a wolf. I continued to crawl with a groan of, "God, I'm a fucking head case," before seeing a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. I followed the light and the tunnel opened into a room that had stone floors in the place of dirt. A lantern with tinted glass, attributing to the green light flooding the room, hung on a nail beside an iron door. I walked through the hole and into the room, big enough to stand in and the wolf followed me. It bit into my sleeve and started tugging me toward the door, leading me up a few steps to it. It let go and nudged the door's knob with its nose then backed off a few steps, as if to give me room. I looked at it, my face probably one of startled confusion. The wolf watched me with its golden eyes that flickered, just like Everett, Oliver and Erik's eyes would sometimes. It couldn't be the lighting in this room, I thought. The wolf's tail swished slowly, as if he was patiently waiting while actively excited about me fulfilling his request. I twisted the knob, expecting it to be locked, but it opened without a hitch. The corridor just beyond was pitch black; I couldn't see a thing. The wolf bit into the fabric of my coat's sleeve once again but I ripped it away. "No," I protested. The wolf paused for a moment and tried to grasp my sleeve between its teeth once again. I held my hands to my chest and half turned away from him. "No, it's dark!" I cried, "I'm not going in there, I can't see a thing!" The wolf turned toward the darkness and huffed then looked at the lantern. It then excitedly turned to look at me, back at the lamp, then back at me. I whimpered and looked at the tunnel from where we'd come, wondering if escape was a realistic option. I felt the wolf's coat brushing up against me and looked down to see the wolf marking my legs and nudging my hand affectionately with its head. I sighed and politely walked past it to take hold of the green lantern and walk down the sketchy, dark hallway. With the light, I could see that the corridor was relatively wide. The floor was covered in smooth stonework, resembling marble, and the walls were made up of wood panels. The ceiling had beautiful crafting to it, giving the hallway an air of renaissance, or perhaps baroque. Kind of like Everett's room had been. Curiously, there were light fixtures lining the walls of the hallway but they had all been turned off. I could hear the click of their wolf's claws on the smooth stone of the floor as he followed me. The hallway opened into a room that had a chandelier, again the lights were off, but there was light exposing a great fountain sprouting water. I looked up and saw that the ceiling was made of glass and that the moon's light was pouring through, something I'd previously seen in Everett's room. The walls were paneled, just like in the hallway, but they were murals led with odd images that seemed to be some kind of mythology. I brought the lantern upon the walls, trying to find the beginning and end of the story. I looked back at the fountain and saw the white wolf sitting on its hind legs, watching me patiently. I focused my attention back on the murals and found what I thought was the beginning; a painting of a woman with glowing white hair and skin, though her eyes lacked pupils and reminded me of a statue's. She was sitting beside a pond, playing with a white wolf pup, where she was being observed by a man hiding behind a tree with dark hair, green eyes, a beard, and, most noticeably, horns like that of a ram. In the next painting, the man had emerged from behind the tree, playing a pan flute with a fox kit at his heels. The painting after showed the pale, glowing girl fawning over the, I had to admit, handsome goat man while the wolf and fox chased each other a little ways off. The next painting was of the woman disappearing as the sun came out, wishing the man farewell. Further on, there was a small child left in place of where the woman had been standing, with glowing skin and pale eyes, but dark hair like the man. Then the man took the child to the door step of a what looked like a farm house in medieval Europe, where a small black cat came from the barn a ways off to observe the bundled child in a twig basket. The final painting was of the man ordering the animals - the wolf, fox and cat - to watch over the child. I heard an awful growl coming from behind me and saw the wolf standing on all four paws, hunched over and heaving. I rushed to it, worried for its well-being, but stopped a few feet away, remembering that this was after all a wild animal. I heard what sounded like the sickening sound of bone crunching as the wolf's legs all simultaneously jerked and twisted forward unnaturally, sending my stomach into a nauseating frenzy. The wolf gave a painful grunt and lurched forward before looking right at me with crazed yellow eyes. I started to slowly back away in shock, unsure of what was to happen. When my back hit the wall, I slumped to the floor, cradling my knees to my chest as I continued to watch in perverse shock while the wolf's body twisted in wicked ways before me. The fur seemed to shoot down into the wolf's skin and I could see the muscles of his limbs and chest much better, though his exposed physique didn't carry the sagging skin or the lanky bone of an animal, so much as that of a human. The yelps and growls progressively sounded similar to a human's grunts and screams and I shut my eyes to escape the horror of it. "It's okay, Freya," I heard a voice say. So familiar it was. I opened my eyes in surprise, scanning the room for another person here. But then my eyes focused on the spot in front of the fountain where the wolf had been convulsing, and there sat Everett, naked as the day he was born, seated in a way that blocked any view of his nether bits. "It's me," he continued. My eyebrows furrowed. "Yes," I agreed. "I'm the wolf," he said. I simply stared at him, eyes hard and menacing. His mouth twisted in disappointment and he started to get up. I quickly looked away to give him some form of privacy. By the sound of his footsteps he was approaching me, but I stayed frozen still. He gripped me by my arms and pulled me up so that I was at level with him, I looked at him finally. "You know," he said, "don't you?" I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. "I don't," I started, exhaling frantically and shaking with nerves, "I don't know what you're—" "Don't give me that crap, Freya," he cut me off, "You're smarter than that." "You can't be a fucking werewolf, Everett! That's not how the world works!" I screamed, shoving at his chest though he didn't move an inch. "Get off me!" I continued hysterically, pushing at his chest hard enough to make my hands hurt but still not enough to make any progress regarding his position. "No." "Everett, I'm warning you." "You're being ridiculous, Freya." "How could I not be?! You're fucking part animal - I don't even - I'm - this is — " He took hold of my face then and kissed me then. It was the first time I'd experienced this with him and I'd wanted it for so long. I began to relax, my body falling limp against his. I felt his hard chest against mine and felt my body reacting to his touch. I wanted him more than anything. He bit my lip with a canine and I felt a perfect intensity of stinging pain in my lip, just before his mouth was on mine again, his tongue in my mouth, twisting in the most pleasurable way with mine. It was bliss, but it was at the wrong time. I pushed him and he gave in, backing away only as much as he had to, with our bodies still flush against each other. "No," I whimpered, my eyes pooling with tears, "This is all wrong." I didn't know what I was mournful over exactly, whether it be the loss of his taste or of finding out he wasn't human, that Erik and Oliver probably weren't either. "It's right," he declared, trying to drown my words out with the volume and intensity of his tone. His lips were on mine again, kissing me with invigorated passion. He parted from me just long enough to say, "I've been waiting for you for so long, Freya," in the most soul-melting groan. He grabbed my thighs almost violently and jerked them around his waist. Then he grabbed my ass with both hands and crushed it to his front, the hardness of his stomach rubbing against my awakening cunt and resulting in a wispy gasp on my part. "Yes," he moaned in reaction, pressing me against the wall. I felt points of something sharp pricking into my rear and broke the kiss to look down at where he held me. Black, sharp claws were protruding. When I looked up at him to protest I saw that his canines had extended, his eyes were glowing in the darkness of the room and his hair was that same glowing white like the girl from the paintings. "You're not human," I stated, as if coming to a final realization. Perhaps a part of me still wanted to deny it. But there was no point in doing so any longer. It all made sense. His demeanor, his behavior. It had always had a feral side that he had been forced to contain. Now that he had exposed himself there was nothing more to hide. He was letting himself run wild. A part of me was frightened, but a part of me was also excited, though I'd be too ashamed to admit it. He'd be honest with me now, right? It was something I hoped for as he leaned in close to my neck. He sniffed at my hair and when he spoke it was right next to my ear with the heat of his breath hitting my neck. "Neither are you," he whispered. Three Demons Ch. 10 My eyebrows knotted together in confusion as he pulled away from my neck and set me down, backing away a few feet. "What do you mean?" I queried. "I meant exactly what I said," he responded, unhelpful. My impatience was mounting. He was mocking me, wasn't he? Of course I was human, there wasn't anything else I could be; I would've realized by now if I wasn't. Then why did he seem so sure? His tone is cool and calm, his demeanor careful and serious. "Explain," I demanded. "First," he replied almost immediately, "let me put some clothes on. I feel awfully vulnerable," his mouth was set in a straight line but his eyes twinkled with playfulness. I became aware once more of his nudity. I looked at my shoes, turning away slightly in an effort to give him privacy. Though I couldn't help but steal a glance at his hardware. Bronze shaft, pink head; long, considerable girth. My cheeks heated and I heard him chuckle. My eyes shot to his face to see his gaze on me, mouth split into a toothy grin, canines protruding and all. "Don't be shy," he said, "I like having your attention." I saw his arm move and focused my attention on his hand, which found its way to his cock. He lightly grasped it and gave it a teasing stroke. My thighs instinctively squished together, as though that would help tame the sudden heat brewing between them. I watched, fixated, my cheeks aflame as he continued to slowly jerk it. I could actually feel the dampness spreading until it began dribbling down my thighs. In a soft, deceptively breathy voice he said, "There's that sweet smell again." My breathing came in shuddering pants and I could feel my knees weakening. Needing an excuse to gain the strength to resist his charms, I remembered what I wanted. With a sudden steel resolve I asked, "Weren't you going to get dressed?". He bit his lip and smiled bittersweetly at me, his hand dropping to his side. "Thank you for reminding me," he replied, almost resentfully, "I nearly forgot." He turned and I practically winced at how defined his body was. A taut back with obvious disparity between the width of his shoulders and waist. I could see every muscle move under his skin as he walked. His rear was bronzed, like the rest of his skin, and delightfully dimpled with no tan lines in sight. I slid down the wall into a pool on the floor. In my head, images bombarded me into oblivion. Things I might've seen in dreams started flashing before my eyes. I saw the shadowy fingers swirling around me and heard Everett's voice repeating the words, "You know," over and over until the voice speaking no longer sounded like his own but rather ancient... And, familiar... Everett was back before I could even begin to place the voice or analyze what seemed to be memories; he was wearing a black gym shirt, gray drop-crotch sweats that were tight at the ankles, and a pair of Chucks. His walk was jaunty as he approached. "Back," he casually noted. He seemed to be all business now, paying special attention to the murals. "Do you understand them?" he asked, pointing to the painted walls. "Yes," I said. Standing up almost lethargically. "The woman is the moon," he stated, quizzing me. "Yes..." "You knew that, right?" "Maybe a quick walk through wouldn't be a bad idea," I admitted. He smiled and shook his head. "Have you ever studied astronomy?" "Not in depth," I replied. "No one has studied it in depth, considering how little anyone on the Earth understands about the cosmos," he said with a tinge of irritation, as if this was some fault of humankind. "The planets contain what you would technically call aliens, UFOs, extraterrestrials - the list goes on. But the way the primitives thought of them was more accurate in ways that are fundamental to understanding them. The primitives thought of them as deities and worshipped them." "The primitives?" I asked, seeking clarification. "Early humans," he explained. "Why was their depiction more accurate?" "I didn't say it was more accurate, just that their way of thinking made the concept easier to understand," he clarified. We were both quiet for sometime; he was crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows as if in endless deliberation. After the pause morphed into an awkward silence I said, "I'm still confused." He licked his lip and exhaled. "They are not small green aliens with big black eyes looking to probe humans. They have human form; some of us more humanoid than others, some of us less humanoid than others. And we all come from a different plane of existence. Some of us can wander through time and dimensions and galaxies while others are stuck. I'm stuck. Oliver and Erik are stuck. Here. On Earth. Aetheria, is the woman depicted in these murals, and she's stuck on the moon. But, it wasn't always that way. Aetheria is royalty to my kind. You see, I come from a long line of lycanthropes. She came from an ancient line of dragos. The dragos have been the rulers of my kind since the Great Conflict in the Third Era when each race battled for succession," he paused, looking at me for some confirmation that I could understand what he'd laid out for me thus far. Once I nodded he continued, "In science, humans have found that energy can be neither created nor destroyed, only transferred. In the dragos species, power is transferred in the same way that energy is transferred, but it is stored in their hearts. Their hearts are not made of flesh like yours or mine. If they were, the ever growing energy stored within them would cause the heart to burst and kill the dragos that hosted it. Their hearts resemble a red gem, warm to the touch and pulsing with light. Because dragos were a species that evolved from dragons and dragons from reptiles, and so on, they developed an odd means of guaranteeing the survival of their species. The dragos cannot die until their hearts are transferred to their offspring." "But a single parent can only have one heart, right?" I asked. "Correct," he affirmed. "What if a dragos pair has more than two children?" I asked. "The children that do not receive their parents' hearts will live out the course of an average lifespan and die naturally instead of existing for millennia like the dragos usually do," he replied. "So Aetheria has one of her parents' hearts then?" "She has both their hearts," he replied. "Dragos can absorb more than one heart?" "Yes," he began, "technically. But only if they already have a heart. It's impossible to consume both at once. It would be fatal." I nodded in understanding, my eyes encouraging him to continue. He sighed and wiped his face with his hand in a gesture of great exhaustion. "This is a lot for you to take in at once. Don't you think it would be better if we stopped here and continued this discussion some other time? Perhaps tomorrow?" "But," I began, "what you've told me hasn't explained anything from the murals!" He sighed with irritation and his eyes flickered like flames. He exhaled and I could visibly see the effort it took for him to contain himself. "Tomorrow." My eyebrows knit together in my heightening frustration. "You just told me I'm not human. The only explanation I got was pale face's backstory!" I shouted. He huffed, the gesture befitting steam rolling out of his nostrils. His body trembled with anger. "Freya, cut it out," he warned. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but my fury fed off of his and I suddenly shoved at his chest with all the frustration that had been brewing in my mind and in my soul. Perhaps it was the realization that I was right all along, that I was a freak. Hell, that I wasn't even human. That the only decent men who found me attractive had to be from a different dimension. That my whole life was a lie. So I placed my palms firmly on his chest, nails digging into the thin fabric of his shirt, and shoved as hard as I could. He didn't move an inch, but instead grabbed my wrists in a painful vice grip and pinned them above my head against the wall. "What the fuck is your problem?" I cried, "Why won't you tell me?" "Because I can't think straight when I can smell you wanting me!" he yelled back, using one hand to keep my wrists pinned while the other strayed down to cup me between the legs. I gasped and jumped at his touch, as he rubbed his palm against the flimsily protected treasures that lay there. "All I want," he began, his breathing coming in harsh pants, "is you. All I've ever wanted is you. I searched for you for so long but he kept you so well hidden. And when I finally found you, you didn't even know who you were. Or, what you were. Then, on a hunt, I saw you walking in the woods. You were so beautiful," he leaned in against my neck and smelled my hair before rubbing his face against the crook of my neck, stimulating all the sensitive nerve endings there, "They told me to wait," he continued, "that you weren't ready. That you'd need to be protected from afar. That a normal human's life might be the best thing for you. But I couldn't keep away. You're my drug, Freya. And, I'm an addict who's seeking a high only you can offer me. Your taste is something I can never forget. And no matter how much I deny myself," he trailed his lips along my collar bone, smelling my skin, tasting the sweat beading from anticipation, "You have a way of pulling me back in," he shuddered against me. "And, it makes me angry," he whispered, lips against my ear, "when I'm not inside you." The speech left me utterly confused, but the logic and understanding of the beginning and middle became secondary and dismissible to the meaning behind the last sentence. I couldn't hide the fact that I wanted him, a fact made more apparent as my legs turned to jelly. I squirmed as he held me up with his hand on my wrists. He started to push his palm against my crotch, watching me intently in the darkness with his golden eyes. Only the moon pouring in through the glass ceiling and the green-lit lantern on the stone floor provided light. I looked up at him with as smoldering a look as I could manage, demanding, "Take me somewhere." "I'd take you on the floor," he chuckled, gingerly withdrawing the hand that'd been providing me with so much teasing pleasure. "But you need to know everything if you want me to continue." At this rate I knew we'd get no where. We were both high on sexual tension. I doubted he'd be able to explain properly if my scent was as distracting as he claimed. A part of me wasn't sure how I felt about the scenario. I was shocked by everything I heard, but alarmingly calm and taking things in as though they were nothing. Everett a werewolf, me inhuman, suddenly aliens exist and they're trapped on the moon. Perhaps a part of me always knew the gist of these things. A normal person would be angry and confused upon learning everything that'd been disclosed to me and, though they mattered, having Everett touch me the way I wanted to be touched was more important. I softly reached my hand to his neck and pulled him closer to me. When our faces were only inches apart, to the point of our lips almost touching, I whispered, "I want to know everything." He watched me closely, eyes squinting with suspicion, "Do you?" "Yes," I breathed immediately, "Everything." I shifted my hand from his neck to hold his jaw, encouraging him to lean further into me and completely expunge the distance between our lips. My fingers rubbed back and forth on his skin, feeling the excellent texture of stubble that always donned his face. "I want everything you can offer me," I continued, hoping my flirtation would have some effect. "I promise I can take it," I said, with a sly smile. His chest rose and fell dramatically as he tried to control the increasing rate at which he was breathing. "You're quite the succubus," he laughed, "Using a double entendre to excite me." "It's the best I can do when my body has little to no affect," I replied, my grin widening. "That's a lie," he laughed. "Oh, you think so?" I asked, happy he'd played right into my trap, "How about you prove it?" At that he bit his lip, his eyes asserting and studying me for difficulty, like I was prey. "We're sailing in dangerous waters here," he warned. I gripped the collar of his shirt then, impatiently, "Where's your sense of adventure?" I challenged, and leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was soft and slow at first, proving I'd taken him by surprise, but he quickly caught up to the chase and soon our tongues were battling out our frustration. He felt massive against me, his form nearly twice the size of my own. I felt small and fragile around him, when I'd never felt that way around anyone else given my healthy size. The craning of his neck and the fact that he had to hunch down to kiss me, filled me with childish glee. Though apparently, I wasn't accessible enough to him with our current height difference. His large, calloused hands gripped at my hips and pushed me up the wall before he grabbed under my knees and forced my legs to wrap around his waist. His hands then traveled up the outside of my thighs to grab my ass and squeeze. I moaned in his mouth at the pleasure that gave me as he started to push his rigid abdomen against my pelvis. He started moving as he carried me, walking toward some unknown place - perhaps where he'd gone when he'd changed into the clothes he was now wearing. The trickling of the fountain in the great room became fainter and suddenly we crashed into a door, his lips breaking away from mine to suckle and nip my neck. "Oh, fuck me!" I exclaimed, shivering with each pleasurable peck on my skin as he bit his way down to my collar bone. "Don't tempt me," he breathed. His right hand withdrew from my side to twist the doorknob. The door gave way and he took three large steps forward before throwing me onto something soft. I fell with a giggle and looked around, noting the comforter I laid on and the bed posts surrounding me which supported a large canopy. I twisted onto my stomach and crawled to the head frame where a small collection of pillows lay. I head the door shut and the lock click. I turned my head to look at him. Kicking off his Chucks by the door, he slid his shirt up and over his head as he walked to the foot of the bed. His muscles tightened and flexed as he undressed, giving a small grunt as he threw the shirt aside. "Your turn," he cooed, his mouth widening into a ferocious grin. He grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me toward him. His fingers quickly found and undid the button and zipper of my jeans, pulled off my gloves, hat, scarf, jacket, and boots. "You overdressed," he tutted, as he flipped me back onto my stomach and started to pull my jeans down. "Well some of us have a clear perception of the cold," I retorted. He groaned quietly when I arched my back at the exact moment he tugged my jeans down, which in turn made my ass shimmy and exhibit its greatest qualities. He swatted a cheek with his hand and I moaned just as my body instinctively jerked away from him. He roughly grabbed at my hips and tugged them back, enough to get me on my knees, before planting his face right between my cheeks. His hot breath hit the damp patch at the crotch of my panties and I shivered as I felt his tongue slide against my barely protected folds. I heard him chuckle as his finger slid my panties aside and the resounding silence as he exposed my most intimate parts almost embarrassed me. I started to squirm under the influence of my dying confidence, but was invigorated when he slid a finger inside me. "Fuck, you're so tight," he murmured. I smiled and bit my lip in response, my approval toward his comment radiating. He withdrew his finger and started to pull my panties down and off my legs. I felt shuffling on the bed and suddenly I felt him against my opening. I felt him push his cock downward and trap it against his hand. He began rocking against me and his cock slid between my lips, bumping at my clit. I puckered my mouth and exhaled slowly, trying to stay calm. His cock felt awfully long and thick when it rubbed against my clit like that. He did it again and a weird shock pulsed through my body, eliciting a moan from my mouth. He shifted behind me again, continuing to rock and rub his cock against my clit, but his free hand had other ideas. He slid a finger inside me steadily thrusting it in time with the rocking of his hips. In the silence, there was only our breathing - mine coming harsher than his - and a wet, sloshing sound as his finger fucked my seeping, wet hole. I wriggled my hips against him, occasionally whimpering. He slid in a second finger. "Fuck," I whispered under my breath. "Please, Everett, I want it," I begged, my voice breaking as his fingers picked up the pace. "Want what?" he asked gruffly. I simply moaned and started trembling, my back arching, my arms losing the strength to hold my torso in place. He let his cock fall away from my lips, instead focusing on movements of his fingers. "What is it that you want, Freya?" he asked again, his voice booming with an authority that demanded an answer. I stayed silent, my eyes rolling back as a whimper escaped my lips. I winced when his hand struck my ass hard enough to make it sting. "Your cock!" I cried out, rocking back and forth on my knees slightly, pressing my thighs together in a delicious squirm. Despite the slight pain, I was enjoying myself immensely. "Then you shall have it," he promised. I could hear the smile in his voice. He slid his fingers out of me, the squelching sound ensuring that they were coated in my desire. More tantalizing was the sound of the wetness as he coated his cock with it, followed by the head of it making contact with the opening of my cunt. Once he'd positioned himself appropriately, he grasped my hips and slowly pushed his pelvis forward, a panicked gasp escaped his lips in the process. I moaned as his cock stretched my hole to his size, while he continued to slowly push forward. My hips jerked forward in an attempt to escape the nearly uncomfortable pressure of the entire act, but he was having none of it. He gripped my hip with one of his hands and tugged me back so that the entire length of him went inside of me. I winced, a whimper that turned into a shallow moan escaped my lips. "Like the feel of that, do you?" he taunted, his voice in my ear, his breath at my jaw. One of his hands wrapped around my waist to keep me in place, while the other grasped my breasts. He massaged my tits briefly as he began to fuck me at an unbearably slow pace. The hand on my breasts made its way up to grasp at my shoulder for better leverage as he picked up the pace to about one thrust per second. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I let my fingertips explore any part of him, or me, that they could touch. First I felt his hand on my waist; it was strong and boney. I felt the coolness of the metal ring on his pinky finger and the jutting of his knuckles as he gripped me tightly. His rhythm was deliberate, his movements just a tad confined, as though he was still controlling himself. I tried to keep quiet, not that there was a reason for it. He was quiet himself, though I paid special attention to his breathing. He was panting, the steady rate of it paused as he occasionally swallowed. My fingers then focused on his forearm which would flex with each movement he made. Then I felt an odd pang within my pelvis, though he hadn't changed a thing in his deliverance. I cried out, my hand clasping around his arm in a vice grip. Another thrust and I felt it again. My fingernails dug into his skin in reaction to the alien feeling. He continued to do it and the sensation didn't stop. "Everett," I said, my eyes closed and my head fell back to rest against his shoulder. My free hand slid down his side to caress the outer thigh. Every part of him was tough as steel and perfectly defined. He picked up the pace to twice his current speed, my eyes popping open and my mouth wide as a result. "Oh, fuck!" I exclaimed. Three Demons Ch. 10 "What a foul-mouthed girl you are," he taunted, smacking my ass hard once more. I cried out at the pain, but as my voice dragged on the sound of it turned into a delightful moan. "Everett, don't stop," I begged. He grunted and withdrew his hand from my waist to instead grip at the bulk of my hair and pull hard enough for me to arch my back against him and cry out in pain once again. With my newly exposed neck made available to him, his mouth met my skin in kisses and naughty love bites. "I'd never stop, my love," he whispered. An odd feeling of deja vu caused goosebumps to creep up my skin. But I forgot all about it when I felt his cock shoot back inside me with another thrust. I gave a high-pitched whimper and fell onto my elbows. "Fuck," I cried, my fingers clenching the bed sheets, as if that would help any. The change in position gave him no trouble as he simply adjusted and gripped my hips with a new sense of vigor. But his shaft felt even longer that it had before as it reached new depths with me on my hands and knees. He groaned. "Feels nice, eh? I can get even deeper than this," he boasted, before pushing the rest of his shaft inside me until I could feel his pelvis flush against my ass. He continued at the same pace while I groaned in wanton lust. The feel of him sliding in and out of me was building something within me that I couldn't place, but it was intense and pleasurable. Abruptly, he pulled out. He flipped me onto my back, watching me as I simply stared up at him in confusion. "I want to see your face," he stated in explanation. His eyes were a dull gold that glowed like fire as his gaze ran down my body. He slid his fingers up my waist and across my breasts until I felt his fingertips on my lips. I smiled playfully up at him and he smiled back, exposing his brilliantly white teeth and elongated canines. I licked at his fingertips and even tried to suck on them, in an effort to lure him into taking me again. He licked his lips, his eyes seemed to have light pulsating within the irises. I took hold of his hand with both of mine to further push his fingers into my mouth, playfully biting at his skin. His free hand glided along my shoulder and followed the length of my arm. His hand moved to cup my hip, his eyes still intensely watching me play with his fingers. "Put it back in," I whispered against them. I saw his skin pulse inhumanly as a growl emanated from his chest. The white of his eyes turned black and I gasped. His eyes seemed to fill with panic at my reaction and they returned to the way they were before. We were both silent for a while as I watched him and he watched me. I sat up on the bed, keeping my eyes on his. "Show me," I said, "I want to see." He exhaled and closed his eyes. His skin shuddered again and I watched his mouth slowly distort to resemble a snout as white fur shot out of the skin on his face. His ears lengthened to a point and I saw his eyes revert to replicate a wolf's eyes. Ultimately, he resembled a man with a wolf's head. His appearance was so alien to me, but oddly pleasant. And, in a way, it was terrifying in that it screamed ferocity and intimidation. I reached out my hand and cautiously touched the fur at his neck; it wasn't soft like I expected but rather rough. He shook his head quickly and the fur seemed to seep back into his skin while his mouth returned to normal. At my look of confusion he said, "It feels odd being in both forms at once." "Well then," I began, bringing my hand up to my face and sloppily licking at the palm, "let's get back to something that feels natural." I drew wetted my hand down between us and cupped his cock with it. I jerked at him slowly, twisting my hand as I slid it along the length of his shaft. He sharply inhaled and threw his head back, his braid falling off his shoulder. I leaned in and kissed at his chest as I continued to stroke him. He groaned and pushed me onto my back. Taking hold of his cock, he pushed himself inside me roughly and started to pound into me like a jackhammer. "Slow down!" I screamed. "Not a chance," he replied, gripping my waist for better leverage, eyes riveting between my face as I moaned, my breasts bouncing, and his cock sliding in and out of my slit. He removed a hand from my waist to flick my clit, at which I lost control. My cries were loud and primal, my body started to hum with the pleasure. Then I froze as I felt a mental orgasm followed shortly after by a physical one. It felt as though gravity had suddenly made itself known within my skull, as though a tide had swept through and washed all thoughts from my mind. My abdomen tensed and tightened, my ribcage expanded, my fingers curled up like claws with fistfuls of bed sheets, and my whole body trembled like it was set to vibrate. My voice was a collection of panicked gasps as I came, and once the ordeal was done, I fell limp on the bed gasping for air. He stopped pounding into me like meat that needed tenderizing only after I had come, for which I was thankful. It seemed the constant rate of his thrusting kept the orgasm going longer than it would have if his pace had varied. He leaned down and kissed at my neck. I yelped and giggled, squeezing my shoulder against my cheek to push his face away. My neck was awfully sensitive just after coming, but my reaction only made his lips more to my shoulder and bite at my skin in defiance. "Your turn," I said with a smile, playing with his braid as he continued to fondle me with his mouth. "Finally," he groaned with mock irritability. I laughed and smacked at his arm as he lifted himself up onto his elbows, laughing heartily the whole time. Shortly after, he moaned as he continued a soft and steady pace of thrusting into me. He watched his cock slide in and out of me, almost obsessed with the visual. Occasionally, he would look up at me and immediately exhale, as though the existence of my face was his undoing. In these last moments, as I waited for him to reach his peak, it felt as though his hands were experiencing wanderlust and my body was the subject of their exploring. Amongst other things, he'd cup my breasts, play with them, smack them around, and tug at the nipples while suckling them in his mouth. His fingers would trail all over my body with a sense of familiarity, as though he knew the slant of every curve and rigidness of every bone. As he continued to play with my body, I felt the humming of my libido rebooting. I felt so exhausted that the sensation nearly irritated me. I thought, Oh, shut up. You've had your fill. Then, I felt the throbbing of his cock against the walls of my insides, a red alert for how close he was. He quickly pulled out and jerked his cock until his semen shot out and onto my stomach and tits. When he came, he moaned and gasped, with his head tilted back, his eyes shut, and his lips parted. He fell onto the bed next to me, panting just as I had been right after orgasming. I tried to sit up in search of a bathroom, but was forced to lie back down by the steel beam that was Everett's arm. "I have bodily fluids on me," I complained. "Just wipe it on the comforter," he said. "Gross!" I protested. "They're headed in the wash anyway after how much you sweat," he stated. I frowned at that, feeling very unattractive because of the statement. "All the more reason to get cleaned up, maybe even take a shower," I mumbled. "You can do all that in the morning," he argued, "Besides, you're not going anywhere until I get two solid hours of cuddling from you." "I don't like cuddling," I spat, defiantly. "Tough luck," he muttered, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. I could feel him smiling against my skin as he smelled my hair. "I like this," he shared, "Your scent mixed with mine." "What do I smell like?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Generally, you smell like fruit," he replied, "No particular fruit." "Generally, huh," I said, "And, what about now?" "Now you smell like raw, warm honey," he explained, "Lightly salted." He winked at the last bit, grinning proudly. I trailed my fingers along his chest for a long while before asking him, "Can you tell me more about the murals now? More about...me. And, what I am. Who I am." He sighed and played with my hair affectionately. "I can try," he began. He cleared his throat and continued with, "Aetheria, the dragos descendent trapped on the moon, was to receive her father's heart before all this happened. Her father, Emperor Ronen, had lived the span of ten centuries. His wife had died in battle four centuries prior and Aetheria was the last of his children who lived. Aetheria, being the eldest and only daughter, received her mother's heart upon her death." "So having a drago's heart ensures immortality but not invincibility?" I queried. "Correct," he affirmed, "But it is very difficult to kill a dragos with a heart intact. Nonetheless, Ronen felt that the most successful way to ensure his bloodline's survival was to make his descendent exceedingly powerful, which is why he gave Aetheria a second heart, instead of gifting it to any of his other children. However, it was rumored that Ronen held no love for Aetheria or any of his children and I think that stemmed from the contempt he held for the late queen. The only person he truly cared for was an eaglescent descendant named Omin." "Eaglescent," I said, before asking, "Like an eagle?" "Yes," Everett replied, "Omin could shift into an eagle." "So, are there shifters for every type of animal on Earth?" I asked. "No," he said, "Only the strongest and most reverent, I suppose. Usually predators." "What do Erik and Oliver shift into?" I asked excitedly. "Erik shifts into a black cat and Oliver shifts into a red fox," he replied. "I knew it with Erik, but wondered over Oliver. I should've guessed though, given all of his hints," I rambled. "Still want to hear about—" he began. "Yes," I cut him off, "Please continue." "Okay," he started, "When Ronen announced that he would be passing his heart on to Aetheria, Omin went mad. He felt that it was unfair that Aetheria would receive a second heart from Ronen when he called Omin a 'beloved son.' So he found a spell in the ancient archives that would separate the two forms that Aetheria had, making the human form an individual being that was completely independent of the dragon form. In our laws, this is seen as an incredibly cruel act and is forbidden. In fact, his close relationship with Ronen was the only reason he even had access to such classified information. When you strip away everything else, our animal form is the primal part of us and is the core of our beings. But Omin did this to Aetheria for a very specific reason. By separating the dragon form from the human form, he stripped Aetheria of the source of her power. Then he used a spell to take control over the dragon form so that he would be able to wield its power himself." "Omin sounds like a dick," I stated. "And nearly all of us agree with you, except if we did so in his presence or around the Coal Men, we would be annihilated on the spot," he replied. "The Coal Men?" I questioned. "Remember how the night before I found you glowing and surrounded by dark shadows?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. "Those shadows were the minions of the Coal Men," he explained, "The Coal Men were the reapers of our kind. And it is believed that Omin made some kind of unholy alliance with them in order to have them work under his rule." "But why would Omin have the Coal Men send their minions after me?" I asked. "Because you are a descendent of Aetheria," he replied. His eyes watched mine carefully, asserting a reaction. My brows knit together in confusion. It wasn't impossible, I supposed. "How?" I asked. "The story is in the murals," he replied. "A big reason as to why you haven't been able to awaken any of your powers is because your ancestor was born by Aetheria's human form, after it was separated from her dragon form. As for the Forrest King-" "The who?" I interrupted. "The goat man," he explained plainly, "There's still some of him in you." "How?" I questioned. "Your attraction for not only me, but also Erik and Oliver, is one example," he said, quietly. That embarrassed me. I didn't know that he even had a clue. "Did Oliver tell you?" I asked. "No," he said, his voice low. I had to focus to hear him clearly. "I could tell." He laid a hand on my hip, lightly trailing his fingers along my skin. He buried the lower half of his face in my hair and deeply inhaled before kissing it. Despite the physical affection, the atmosphere felt a little tense to me. Perhaps I was the only one who felt that way. Nonetheless, I was on edge and worried about how this might change things. "How do you feel about that?" I asked, my voice shaky and without confidence. He sighed. "I don't have any claim to you. As a lycanthrope, everyone is fair game until you mate. Then, monogamy is law." "That doesn't answer my question," I said. "No," he began, "I guess it doesn't. Any of our kind are heavily influenced by our animal forms. The beast within us is a great indication of what our personality ought to be like. Erik's animal form being a cat, he feels no strings attached. He doesn't understand the concept or value of a relationship. Out of the three of us, he is definitely the most promiscuous. Oliver's animal form is a red fox and it's split 50/50 with his kind. For the most part, monogamy is not the norm amongst our kind as it is for humans here on Earth. However, among my kind, the lycanthropes, it is. As much as we might fool around beforehand, there will always be that one person who is your soulmate." "Are you jealous of them?" I asked. After a moment's pause he swallowed and said, "A little." I felt as though I'd pushed the subject far enough. I didn't want to ask anymore questions or it might bring forth a topic I wasn't yet prepared to discuss. It was too serious a subject for pillow talk the first time I'd ever slept with Everett. I didn't know if I felt any feelings past lust for him. "Oliver said that it was natural that I was attracted to all three of you," I stated, "That is was in my DNA. He wouldn't explain further at the time." "That's because you didn't know everything that you know now," he said, before continuing with, "Now that you do, no question should go unanswered," he took a deep breath and continued. "Monogamy is common amongst the dragos line, in fact it was part of their method of survival. But, the ram," he grunted, "They're just about as promiscuous as cats." "So why did Aetheria mate with the-" I began. "Forrest King," Everett corrected, before I had the chance to make a mistake. "Yes," I agreed. "That's a good question," he began, "But I wouldn't know the answer, as it's none of my business. Maybe to piss off Omin, maybe the Forrest King was charming. I just know that you're a descendent of theirs that needs to be protected from Omin and his shadows."