Shorty & the Beast: Part Two (complete)

Female Main Character x Male Monster (both cis)

Roslile kept Kyairil hidden for a few days, preparing for the long journey it would take to reach the Cobra Strait. While her father continued to go to Bellmore to look after the house of his previous employers, she carefully stocked food for the journey, hopefully enough for her and Noodl . The only thing she lacked was money.

“Why am I not surprised you Halflings use turnips as money?” Kyairil’s voice rang in her head.

“Shut up,” she snapped back at him. “We use money like anybody else. We just like food, that’s all.”

“Well it certainly didn’t help you grow,” he sighed.

Roslile rolled her eyes, hoping he could feel it through whatever magic was connecting the two. “Do you really want my help?”

“Like I said to my last date: I’m desperate, so I’ll take anything.”

Roslile huffed, making up her pack and setting it beside her bed. “Look, unless you have a way to get some money for this journey, I’m going to need you to be quiet.”

Kyairil sighed heavily. “I have many ways, I just need my body in order to use them.”

Roslile put her hands on her hips. “Then be quiet.”

“Just know that I’m sticking my tongue out at you right now.”

Roslile ignored him as she went over the cost of things inside her own room. Her books could total up to something, maybe. Her gardening tools would fetch some money too, if she got to the right buyer. Maybe her desk was worth a gold piece, at least. She was making up a list of things she was willing to sell when she came upon her jewelry box. She was never one for baubles or beads, but her mother had left her a beautiful golden chain and locket.

“You feel sad. Why do you feel sad?” Kyairil asked, annoyed by the disturbance.

Roslile shut the jewelry box and scoffed. “Who said you could feel me? Is this going to be a thing now?”

Kyairil grumbled something under his breath before making a throat-clearing sound. “The two of us made a pact. Once your village is protected, I won’t have to feel anything about you. Until then, it’s something you’re going to have to get used to.” He sighed. “So what’s got you down, little pigeon?”

“The only thing of value I have is my mother’s locket.” She smoothed her hand over the jewelry box with a concerned look. “But that’s really all I have of hers.”

“Then don’t sell it.”

“But I have nothing else!” Roslile was about to throw herself down onto her bed in frustration when she felt two hands on her shoulders. The strange force moved her, turning her in the direction of the halberd on her desk, where Kyairil’s eyes glowed in the blade. “Take the beads off the blade, if you’re going to pout like that. They’re real sapphire, and I used to wear them all the time. They mean nothing to me other than that they matched my skin.”

“It won’t hurt you or anything to remove them?” Roslile asked, surprised by the offer.

“At this point in my life, I would be excited to feel anything,” he sighed. “Besides, I’m sure they’re worth more than the silly locket anyway.”

Roslile took the beads, breaking the thread that attached them to the handle. They glimmered in her palm. “Your skin was this color?”

“You should have seen me bathed in moonlight,” he sighed nostalgically. “I was the envy of all the drow.”

The hairs on the back of Roslile’s neck prickled. “You’re a drow? I’ve never met one before.”

“This is Carbagne right? The place used to be drow territory.” He went quiet. “Don’t tell me they’re all dead? I couldn’t bear that.”

“No,” she said. “Just… underground, I think?”

Kyairil went quiet again. “Just sell the damn beads. I can find more elsewhere once I have my body back”

“Are you sure? You can say no.”

Kyairil grumbles, and Roslile could feel his eyes roll. “If I wanted to say no, I wouldn’t have offered to begin with. Now cease your chirping and sell the things. We need to start traveling soon. We can’t sit here and hope your goddess decides to pay a visit.”

It was easy enough to find someone to buy the little sapphire beads. The only problem was that word would spread, and the questions would lead right to her father. Roslile would have to leave soon, or her father might get suspicious of something. There were four beads attached to the Halberd, so Roslile made a snap decision. Just before she went into the shop, she put one bead in her pocket, deciding to keep just in case. If money became tight, she would at least have something she could keep safe and sell down the road.

Back to the beginning of this story. Before Kyairil had been imprisoned in the halberd, he had worn the beads as earrings. They had been a gift to him, and the first luxurious present he had ever received, so they were his symbol of power and influence. To him the sapphires meant more than complements to the color of his skin - they were a reminder of everything he had worked for, his power as a sorcerer and the drive to increase it. They weren’t much use to him now. They were a reminder of what he had accomplished, and what he failed to do. There was blood on his hands, staining his fingertips amethyst and wine. It was a stain that remained even in his imprisonment, but that’s a part of the story that we must save for another time.

Once all of Earthwick was settled in bed, just a little past midnight, Roslile would leave with Noodle for the Cobra Strait. She would avoid traveling through Sothen, mainly passing through the kingdom of Taville and the Rogue’s Forest, which would take her to the outskirts of Obresh. Unfortunately, Obresh had been seized by Sanguis Rex and his men, and the once-friendly port was barred. The citizens were being taken in as refugees on the western continent, where the Rakshasa Kingdom was. Roselile heard that if one went below Obresh to the beach, one could take a ship to the Peninsula, and travel from there into Rakshasa territory through a passage known as the Man-Eater Gate. Right now, anywhere that bordered water was a dangerous kingdom to be in. Once she was able to get into Rakshasa territory, she knew she would be safe.

That evening, Roslile had one last dinner with her father, making sure it was a heavy one so he would fall asleep faster. Once she was sure he was snoring soundly, she readied her pack and took the halberd into her hand. “One last thing,” she whispered. She stopped at the table and laid down a letter she had prepared for her father to read.

“Don’t get sad again,” Kyairil murmured.

“I’m doing this for him, for all of Earthwick.” She glanced down the hallway one last time. “I’ll show them who can and can’t be a hero.” She slipped out the back door to where Noodle was waiting, ready with the saddle.

“Heroes often die. You sure you want to be a hero?” Kyairil sounded like he was taunting her, so Roslile ignored him, mounting Noodle and directing him where to go. Once they crossed the edge of Earthwick, Roslile looked back. Some of the lights in houses were twinkling, and smoke from the chimneys rose into the sky. “Don’t tell me you’ve never left home before,” Kyairil giggled.

“Shut up.”

Kyairil continued to chuckle. “Oh don’t tweet so loudly at me, little robin. I think it’s adorable! Here I am wanting freedom, and you’ve never even known it. Well, get a taste for it, because after this you’ll know what freedom really is.”

Roslile’s heart as Noodle cantered away from the village. “And what do you know? I thought drow couldn’t walk around during the day.”

“It’s not preferred,” he grumbled. “But I did make my way around in my youth. I traveled far and wide to learn from masters in the art, and I’ve seen the mountains of valleys of both continents as well as many of the islands.” He let out a beleaguered sigh. “But I suppose that was long ago now.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what you did to be turned into a weapon?” Roslile asked, hoping to distract herself from the nervous knot tightening in her belly.

“I was not turned into a weapon. I was imprisoned in the weapon. There’s a big difference,” he huffed.

“But why?”

Kyairil laughed loudly. “Why, you ask? Because of petty squabbles. They were all against me.”

“I think it’s because you’re full of shit.” Roslile was already exhausted. Eventually Kyairil would have to come clean about it, maybe. But for now, she wanted to distract herself from the fact she was leaving home and might come back to something else. “You didn’t do something really bad, did you?”

“Everyone is bad to someone,” Kyairil mumbled.

Roslile’s smile perked up. “Full of shit. I was right.”

By dawn, they had made it through Charbagne and Roslile was letting Noodle rest. She had her first meal on the road, gazing at the hills that sloped down into the flat terrain of Taville. She thought about how long it would take to get from here to Obresh. It could take them a few days, possibly even weeks. And once in Obresh, it could take days for them to get a ship, longer depending on the hold Sanguis Rex had on the ports. After that, it could take time to convince someone to let her speak to Queen Mythri. Due to the war, she might not ever get to see her.

“What is that you’re eating?” Kyairil suddenly broke her chain of thought.

“This?” Roslile asked. “It’s bread, cheese, and pickles.”

Kyairil made a disgusted noise. “Pickles?”

“Yeah, I make them myself.” She took out the jar she had brought. “I grow the cucumbers and everything! I was even learning how to distill vinegar from wine, but I suppose that will have to wait.” She looked back at the jar. “I like to put peppers, onions and carrots in there too. I also have some pickled okra.”

“The kobolds had spicy pickles made from these horrible little peppers. They were sour and made my stomach feel like it was on fire, but as long as I had some lime with them I could eat them all night.”

“Unholy pickles! My mother used to make them,” Roslile said excitedly.

“You know about them?” Kyairil sounded just as enthusiastic.

“I got sick from them once. They hurt more coming out than going in.” Roslile smiled brightly, remembering how she curled up in her mother’s lap after that. “My mother always saved seeds from the peppers. But after she died, we lost her collection.” She frowned slightly. “Everything I know about gardening I know from her.”

“You feel sad when you talk about her.”

“She died,” was all Roslile said. She turned to her food instead, eating until there was only a tiny morsel left, which she shared with Noodle for all his hard work.

“You shouldn’t have eaten so fast,” Kyairil warned. “I barely got to taste anything.”

Roslile frowned. “I thought you couldn’t feel anything?”

“The more time we spend in close contact - such as you carrying me on your back - the more our bond grows. I could almost taste the pickles,” he whined. “It’s been so long!”

Roslile jumped back onto Noodle’s back, and despite some resistance, Noodle went along down the road again. “I’m not sure how I like sharing everything with you. What do I get from it?”

“I’m sure eventually you’ll get a sense of my abilities and power. Possibly, you could even become a conduit for my magic. With some time and practice, I bet I could start casting spells through you.”

“Then why didn’t we practice that before we left?” Roslile exclaimed. “I mean, we could have set up protection around the village! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because my magic wouldn’t be strong, and if we did set up that protection we wouldn’t be able to leave it. Without my body, the spells would have been weak and useless without me nearby. Through you, my magic will only be as strong as your body and mind allow.”

A pout softened Roslile’s glare and furrowed brow. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“Sure you are, tiny robin,” Kyairil scoffed.

That afternoon, exhausted and needing sleep, Roslile found an abandoned fox den to rest in Noodle guarded out the entrance, also falling asleep. The fox den was quiet, dark, and cool, so Roslile was able to fall asleep almost instantly. She dreamed like she always did, starting off on a pearly white beach where she had gone with her family long ago. She stood letting the water wash up onto her toes, feeling the sand sifting between them. It was always bright and warm, but now it was dark and bathed in moonlight. Where her family was usually having a picnic further up on the beach, there was a stranger standing right beside her, towering over her in the glow of the moon. Long white hair flowed with the light, catching a breeze and billowing about his head.

“You dream of the ocean. How interesting,” he sighed. He held his hands up into the air, as if he were trying to cup them around the moon. “Do you have good memories here?”

Roslile took a step back to look up at him better. “Who are you?”

He squatted, dark eyes looking into her light brown ones. He smirked, tilting his head into his palm. “You are rather cute.”

She furrowed her brow. “Kyairil?”

He pinched the tip of her nose, his fingers capped by long, sharp nails. Billowing sleeves adorned his arms, and as he rose again they caught the breeze. “It’s been a long time since I felt the wind, let alone the warmth of the moonlight on my skin.”

Roslile turned to the ocean again. Looking up at Kyairil, her neck hurt, but also there was something else. “You’re in my dreams?”

“Magic connection, blah blah blah,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you of that, little sparrow.” His tunic caught the wind, blowing out forward and plastering tight against the back of his legs. “I suppose I should thank you for this dream.”

“It’s usually daytime when I dream,” Roslile said softly.

“I prefer the night.” Kyairil’s smile showed his beautiful teeth. “Try and sleep for as long as you can today. I want to stretch my legs again, so to speak.”

Roslile tried not to look at him. If they were connected, he would know for sure what she felt when she peered up at his face. He would know she found his long limbs, slim figure, and sculpted face beautiful, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, or to talk about it on the long road they had before them.

Kyairil pulled up his tunic and stepped into the water with a disappointed sigh. “I can’t feel it like I thought I would.” He sat in the foam, letting his tunic billow about him like a jellyfish. His spoiled pout made him look younger than Roslile had assumed.

“Hopefully it won’t take long to get your body back.” Roslile stood beside him in the water. “Then you can go to the ocean again.”

Kyairil stared blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused and glazed over while his hair hung limply around his face. Roslile noticed he had small gold posts in his ears, but she didn’t realize that was where the sapphires once hung. “I’ll even take you myself, promise,” Roslile said brightly.

Kyairil lay back in the water, his hair and flowing clothes followed the gentle lapping waves. He stared up at the moon, his eyes as reflective as the blade of the halberd. “There are things I miss more than the ocean,” he lamented.

Roslile sat down beside him. “Well…” She wasn’t sure what to say.

“This was a good pep talk.” He patted her leg, and his skin felt so incredibly soft. “I’m fine with this, for now. Just the moon.”

Roslile looked down at his face, only to quickly look away again. “Something on your mind, little sparrow?” Kyairil slowly rose from the water, his hair and clothes still very dry. “Your eyes keep darting around like loose marbles.”

There was no way in hell that Roslile was going to admit what she was currently thinking. It would be her last day on earth before she admitted that. “I never expected you to have long hair.”

Kyairil’s smile grew three sizes, and he fell back into the water with a laugh. Roslile woke to the sound of his laughter still ringing in her head, with the same resonance as windchimes caught in a breeze. It faded slowly as she rose to see the sunrise cresting over the hills. By now her father was probably waking up and finding the note she had left behind. It occurred to Roslile that this was the first time she had woken up away from home.

“Don’t get too down, little finch,” Kyairil said softly. “Remember what you’re doing this for.”

Roslile sighed as she crawled from the fox den to be greeted by Noodle. “I just hope he isn’t going to be too worried.” She started looking through her pack for food.

“Maybe he is,” Kyaril sighed. “But doesn’t that just mean he loves you?”

“What was it like when you traveled?” she deflected, choosing not to think about Earthwick or her father.

“Well, for one it was much easier than this,” he scoffed. “I had a horse called Coal Black, and he was magnificent. He could go all day without having to stop once.”

“Well, Noodle can run really hard. I just haven’t wanted to push him.” Roslile took a bite of her food as she gazed out across the distance. There was a slight damp in the air, and when she breathed in it held the scent of rain. “We need to hurry and find a town before the rain comes.” She let Noodle finish eating before she loaded her pack onto his back again.

“This might be a good chance to see if I can use you to channel my magic.” Kyaril was excited by the prospect. He had been out of practice, and never had to use someone else before as a conduit for his magic. But if he could perform again, then just maybe he could feel a little more like his old self.

“Okay, what do I do?”

Once they were on their way, Kyairil and Roslile practiced, seeing what they could do with their growing bond. Roslile tried to do what Kyairil asked, but sometimes it sounded too ridiculous. She tried to do the channeling and the breathing like he asked, but at one point she almost had to vomit. It felt like he was pushing from inside her stomach and out of her mouth. She stopped by a river, letting Noodle drink while suppressing the bile in her throat. “I think we need to be better friends before we continue this,” she choked.

“Oh, come now, it isn’t that hard. If you just listen to me it can...” He stopped suddenly. “You smell something.”

“I do.” She looked up, and across the river was a camp with banners of dark red and gold hanging from the tents. There were gnolls and lizardfolk walking around, wearing matching colors and strange crests. They looked as though they had been there a long time, like they were waiting for something.

Roslile got up slowly from the riverbank. “Soldiers,” she whispered. “From Sothen.”

“Is that bad?” Kyairil’s tone was cautious. “Maybe they’re on the run? Hiding?”

Noodle growled low in his throat, and Roslile rushed to quiet him so he didn’t bark. She pulled him aside, trying to lead him away from the river without being seen, but as they were turning back the way they came a soldier emerged from the pushes, tying up his trousers. “What’s this?”

Roslile’s eyes bulged, her stomach lurched, and she threw up. The soldier flinched, standing back before chuckling. “Aww, poor little lass.” He knelt, taking something from his pocket. “Are you lost?”

Roslile shook her head. “No! No sir,” she coughed. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”

The soldier laughed. “There, there, no need to worry. I know the kids are playing games. I won’t tell them where you are.” He handed Roslile an orange. “Eat that, it will make your tummy feel better.”

She sniffled, watching her closely as he rose back up. “Th-thank you?”

“Be careful, alright? It’s not safe to play around the base. You should head on back across the river to the camp.” He winked and went on his way.

“What the fuck?” Kyairil whispered.

Roslile hurriedly jumped onto Noodle’s back. “I’m not staying around to find out!” It was lucky he mistook her for a child. She used to hate that, but now she was thanking her lucky stars. They ran for as long as they could, storm clouds brewing and the scent of rain unmistakable now. Kyairil insisted on practicing again, promising to try something that didn’t make her want to throw up.

By the time they reached a village, and it was starting to drizzle, they had discovered that Kyairil could give Roslile painful little shocks. “My whole body feels prickly!” Roslile complained.

“I’m sorry! It might take more time before we can do magic together.” Kyairil was frustrated. To him it was so easy, how could it possibly be that hard for her? Magic was supposed to be a natural thing, and everyone could do it to some degree. Had life changed so much during his imprisonment? If so, it was a nasty way for it to go.

Roslile flexed her fingers, which were stiff and antsy. “At least we’re here now that it’s started to rain!” She hopped off of Noodle. “Let’s find a pub to hide in until it stops.”

She wandered around the muddy streets with Noodle in tow. Everything looked empty, and there wasn’t a sign of light or people anywhere. It was strange, and the gnawing idea that this town had been evacuated stayed at the back of her mind. She finally saw a chimney with smoke, and when she found the building there was a sign out front advertising it as an inn and tavern. The rain was coming down hard, and she was soaked to the bone. Even if it seemed too good to be true, she had little choice in the matter.

Inside the tavern was quiet, but at least it was warm and dry. Roslile turned her head this way and that to inspect her surroundings. At the door she noticed a long line of boots, and some weapons hanging from the coat rack. “Oh, look at this! We’ve discovered where death by blunt trauma lives,” Kyairil shivered. “Surely this place can’t be safe for us.”

“You can’t judge a book by its… giant, bladed cover,” Roslile said, catching sight of a massive claymore by the foot of the stairs.

It felt like Kyairil’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back towards the door. “We escaped one possible death today. Do we really want to make it two?”

There were voices coming from down the hall, and Noodle began to bark loudly. “Shut him up!” Kyairil commanded. Roslile tried to grab hold of Noodle, but he charged into the hallway and continued to bark loudly, taking a defensive stance.

“Who goes there?” Someone growled. Noodle tensed, and a ridge of fur stood up all the way down his back as he snarled, showing teeth. An orc came into view, standing before Noodle with a confused expression. He offered his hand, letting Noodle smell him. “There’s a good dog. Who are you protecting, boy?”

Noodle’s tail began to wag, and he licked the orc’s hand. “Your dog is bad at this,” Kyairil hissed.

The orc saw Roslile, standing frozen in fear. “A halfling? What the hell is one of you doing in these parts?”

“I…” Roslile shivered. It was a miracle she had escaped that base today. Maybe this was the end of all her luck.

The Orc walked around Noodle and approached her. “Where are you from?”

Roslile was beginning to shake, but Kyairil’s hands on her shoulders squeezed tight. “Breathe,” he whispered. “Calm yourself and focus on his eyes. You have to look deep, so you can feel his heart. Now ask him.”

“Who are you?” Roslile asked.

The Orc’s eyes went blue in their whites, for the briefest flash. “Name’s Charrick.”

How did that work? Roslile tried again. “What are you here for?”

“My friends and I are from Obresh. We’re looking for an encampment of soldiers so we can find their encrypted maps of the Cobra Strait.” He looked confused after he spoke, chuckling to cover it. “Hope you aren’t a spy.”

“The camp,” Kyairil exclaimed.

“I’m from Earthwick. It’s a village in Charbagne.” Roslile stood closer to Charrick. “I saw the camp this afternoon!”

His eyes grew wide. “How? Where?”

“It was along the river, just before I came to the Juggernaut stones.”

Charrick grinned and rubbed his hairy chin. “We have food and drink inside. We’ll give you whatever you want. You’ve probably saved Obresh. Uh…”

“Roslile,” she said. “Roslile Portigardens.” She was fit to burst with excitement. Was this what being a hero felt like? She followed Charrick into the main hall, where she spoke of what she saw to the other orcs. They laid out a map for her, and she showed them where she had found the camp, explaining what the soldier had said to her.

They fed her and Noodle, giving her a cup that would fit her hands so she could drink and celebrate with them. She told them about Earthwick and her hopes to protect it. “The drow want to take it back,” Poppy, Charrick’s sister, told her. “They’re trying to use Gravelmeuse as a way to get inside, because they lost it ages ago when they were expunged for planning a coup. But once their queen died, they didn’t have much of a fighting chance,” she chuckled.

A shock went up the back of Roslile’s neck, and the feeling of a heart pounding against her back reminded her of Kyairil’s presence. “Drow? Really?”

“They’re working with Sanguis Rex. One of them just married his right-hand man,” Poppy scoffed. “But I don’t think they’ll be able to take over Charbagne. I heard that they’re sending some folks to Hell, to talk to the drow there and form an allegiance.”

“Roslile,” Kyairil whispered urgently. “Can we… can we go elsewhere? Please?”

She gently set down her empty cup. “Is there somewhere I can rest for the night?”

“Sure, kid.” Poppy rose, taking her to the stairs. “The room at the end and to the left is free. Go ahead and take it. We’ll have breakfast before we leave in the morning.”

“Thank you!” Roslile tried to get Noodle to follow, but he was enjoying being fed by the other Obresh mercenaries too much to care. Roslile gathered her things and entered the room. She placed the halberd by the bed and clutched her chest. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“You can feel that?” Kyairil choked.

“What’s going on? You started acting strangely when she was talking about the drow.” Roslile began removing her clothes and hanging them by the fireplace.

“What are you doing?” Kyairil balked.

Roslile looked towards the halberd, her underclothes in her hands. “I’m getting ready for bed. What does it look like?”

“You look naked!” Kyairil snapped.

Roslile stretched before the fire. “Oh? You can see me?”

Kyairil grumbled something under his breath. “You sound like you don’t care that I can see your… behind.”

Roslile chuckled. “Grow up a little. Surely you had time to do that recently.” She walked back towards the bed and stretched out on it, never having slept in a bed so massive before. “Think on the positive things today. We’ve accomplished a lot.”

Kyairil didn’t respond. “Are you even listening to me?” Roslile sat up and grabbed the halberd, laying it on the spacious amount of bed she had.

“I’m listening,” Kyairil scoffed.

“Was that magic we used earlier?” she asked quietly. “When we got Charrick to talk.”

Kyairil exhaled loudly. “Yes. It was. We were able to use magic today.”

“That’s exciting, isn’t it?” Roslile rolled onto her side to face the halberd. “It took a while, but we finally did it.”

Kyairil grumbled. “I suppose.”

Roslile closed her eyes. “I’ve never been this lucky before. My luck always seems to swing the other way.”

“Luck isn’t real. You shouldn’t put your stock in something so intangible. You were lucky today because of yourself, not because of some all-knowing force you can’t see.”

“Maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

Kyairil laughed. “Don’t be stupid. What did I just tell you?”

Roslile was beginning to sink into sleep. Her eyes were heavy, and her body began to melt into the bed. “We make a good team though.”

He sniffed. “Too early for that. Just get some sleep, little finch.”

She did just that, fading into a dream that was different from before. Usually when she drank, she barely remembered her dreams. The room she was in was small but warm, and one entire wall was a four-poster bed. Curtains flowed out over the opening, and pillows had spilled all over the floor from within. Outside the moon was full and bright, almost pushing itself against the glass. She stood there, not realizing she was naked until she felt a chill run over her skin.

“If you’re cold, come here.” A hand came from the curtains. The fingers were long and elegant, decorated with shining golden rings and nails that were sharp and black. Roslile stepped close, admiring the near-black, sapphire skin. “Is that you?” She took the hand, and the fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Who do you think it could be?” Kyairil pulled her into his bed, which was bigger than it looked. There was a stained-glass window behind the headboard, made from purple-and-blue glass, and the moonlight filtered through it, shining along Kyairil’s exposed skin. He wore a long robe of silken material, and his hair was pulled into a braid and wrapped around his head. He looked painfully gorgeous and luxurious.

“Where are we?” Roslile asked.

“My old bedroom.” He lounged back against the many, many pillows. “I was surprised to find myself here. I didn’t think you knew it.”

Roslile hugged a pillow to her chest. “I don’t remember my dreams when I drink. This could be your influence.”

“It’s not quite how I remember it. Everything feels so much smaller.” He flicked his dark eyes over to her. “Maybe that’s your influence.”

Roslile’s heart beat wildly. She had been with men before, but never one like Kyairil. He was so lovely and masculine, and he looked like would smell good if she buried her face in his hair or his neck. She was usually confident when it came to bedroom situations, but now she felt like an awkward bumpkin. Kyairil’s eyes looked into hers, and a smile spread across his face. “What are you looking at, little sparrow?”

Roslile gulped. “Nothing.”

His eyes flicked down, noticing how tightly she was squeezing the pillow in her arms. “You gave me an eyeful earlier. Perhaps I should repay the favor.” He sat up, tugging the robe off his shoulders.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to play it off. “There was nothing to look at with me! Get over yourself.”

“Nothing, you say?” Kyairil breathed, beginning a slow crawl across the bed. “I saw the cutest, perkiest ass I’ve ever seen. It looked quite firm, but soft too.”

“Shut up,” Roslile giggled. “You’re just teasing me.”

“My tongue is for teasing,” Kyairil whispered directly into her ear. “My words mean something.” He pulled the pillow from her arms. “Why so shy now?”

“I’m not.” Roslile looked into his face, regaining some of her courage. She reached out, placing her palm against his chest. His skin was so soft. “Can you feel that?”

His smile grew, and a black tongue darted over his sharp, pearly teeth. “Actually, I can. You’re very warm for such a tiny bird.”

“Why do you call me that?” she pouted.

Kyairil moved in closer. “You look like you have tiny hollow bones.”

She scoffed and tugged his robe open. “I can feel your heart racing again. Nervous?”

“Maybe a little.” His breath hitched and was followed by a moan. “I haven’t been touched in so long.”

Her hand moved down his chest to his stomach, and her fingers brushed against hair. She bit her lip, moving her hand back up and touching his face. Kyairil leaned into her palm, nuzzling against it. He looked into her eyes, and she rose onto her knees, parting her lips. A tongue slapped her in the face.

Roslile woke with a shock to see Noodle panting and smiling at the edge of the bed. She sat up and touched her face as she looked around the room. Glancing at the halberd, she let out a laugh. “Stupid dog,” Kyairil growled.