26

Lachlan

I don’t know why I keep doing this. For years, it’s been clear that there is nothing left of the man I knew as my da living in the beast that shares the loch with me, and yet every so often, I can’t help but try to prove myself wrong. Tonight is no different; in the form of the beast, my senses are higher, so I can feel when he’s near. He likes to keep to a shelf in the deeper part of the loch, and I can usually find him resting there when he isn’t hunting for fish.

I’m always met with hostility.

We can’t speak, not like this, but there’s still a line of communication between us. A language that I instinctively understand, but one that he doesn’t seem to fully grasp. The voice of the beast is low and mournful, and when I call out to him from a safe distance, projecting everything I’m hoping for in my question—his answering cries are full of disjointed impressions of STAY AWAY and ENEMY. As if he really is nothing more than a beast defending his territory.

I wonder if it’s near time to accept that Callum Greer is really gone.

It’s dark tonight, the cloud cover blotting out most of the stars, so I feel safe in going to the surface. Da’s territory is in the deepest part of the loch, after all, miles away from shore. It would be almost impossible to spot anything out here even if some passersby were walking along the shore tonight. I just need the air. I need to breathe it in and remember that I’m not lost yet.

I can sense my da lurking some distance away, no doubt hovering to see if I’ll come any closer. If he needs to defend his home. I have old scars from similar encounters, and knowing that my father has made me bleed on more than one occasion is disheartening to say the least. I often have to remind myself that it’s not him, not really.

I truly don’t know why I sought him out tonight; I haven’t for quite some time. Maybe it’s because I feel the weight of it all more heavily tonight. After touching Key earlier, feeling her complete acceptance of me, her ironclad certainty that she’ll somehow free me of this—I suppose it got me wondering whether or not freedom for me would mean freedom for my da as well. If the curse can be broken, will he come back to us? Or is it too late for him?

I fear the alternative rings truer, but it’s painful to even try to accept. I’ve been without him for more years than I had him, but something about my growing feelings for Keyanna make it hurt worse somehow. I think about a future where I might live a normal life, where I might make her mine, really mine, ring and all—one where we might have weans of our own. Ones he’ll never meet.

It’s bloody heartbreaking, is what it is.

But I suppose I should be used to that feeling.

Thoughts of Key make things both better and worse; I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things I’ve yet to tell her. Part of me has been too much of a coward, afraid that things will be different if she knows everything, but given the realization that my feelings are far deeper for her than I ever thought they could be—I don’t think I have a choice, really. Curse or no curse, I know that there is no future together that is based on dishonesty. Key has been nothing but open with me, and she deserves the same courtesy.

The clouds part over the loch, revealing a sliver of moonlight, a peek of stars. It hits me then that I haven’t seen the stars as a man, not once; I wonder if they might look different. I think if we manage to break the curse—the first thing I’ll do is walk under them with Key. It’s a good enough start to a to-do list, I think.

MINE

AWAY

ATTACK

I turn just before I feel him approach, my distracted train of thought meaning I hadn’t noticed when he got closer. I dart away just as my da lunges from below, his powerful jaws snapping at the air when he emerges from the depths. With the moonlight pouring down on his mossy green skin, his eyes seem to glow with a burning wildness that doesn’t look even remotely human. He stays still where he is, drifting on the surface as he projects more violent urgings—mostly of the variety that I leave his territory—and instead of sadness, a creeping numbness seems to take over. One that comes from realizing that there’s nothing for me here. That there may never be.

I lower my head in a clear gesture of submission, slowly swimming backward as I maneuver my large body farther away from the area, heading for the channel that leads to the cove where I left my clothes. I feel his presence behind me for a long while, and when it finally fades, I tell myself that it will be all right. That even if it’s too late for him, he would be happy knowing that it might not be too late for me. I know my da well enough to know that, at least.

I swim for the shore with new resolve, telling myself that it’s not over for me, not yet. Tomorrow, I will tell Keyanna everything that she still doesn’t know, and after I’ve begged her forgiveness for keeping it from her, we’ll find the answer together. I allow myself to believe that, sharing in Key’s fierce determination and praying it isn’t unfounded. Because I think I know now that behind me lies my past, but ahead…there might still be a future.

---

The farm is uncharacteristically quiet when I reach it the next morning; the cows aren’t braying their usual morning demands for breakfast, the chickens are silent, and even the main house is dark. I check the cottage to find it empty, frowning while wondering if Key let Finlay get her drunk again. The thought morphs my frown into a slight grin. I’d like to see that someday.

I’m about to knock on the main door of the house when Rhona opens it to my raised fist, pursing her lips at me. “Looking for something?”

“I was…” This woman is a foot shorter than me, and somehow still intimidates the hell out of me. “I was just looking for Key.”

“Course you were,” she answers with a snort. She cocks a brow, looking up at me. “You doing what I said? Are you being good to her?”

I nod immediately, hoping that I am. “As best I can.”

“Good.” She moves to the side. “She’s still in bed. Finlay roped her into another game of cards after dinner.”

I have to school my mouth not to lift at the corners. “Thank you.”

“No funny business in my house,” she calls after me as I move past her.

I raise a hand as if in assent, but truthfully, I can’t make any promises.

I find Key sprawled over her tiny bed, her hair a wild mess of curls that cover her face and one of her arms hanging over the side of the mattress. A smile touches my lips; there’s a sadness there too, one that comes from knowing I can’t wake up with her like I wish I could, but I shove it down, locking her bedroom door instead. Maybe a little funny business would go unnoticed.

I sit at the end of her bed, running my hand over one smooth calf as she wiggles in sleep, apparently ticklish. She makes a chuffed sort of sound in her sleep when I trail my fingers up the back of her thigh, smoothing my palm over the round curve of her ass before whispering her name.

“Key?”

“Mm.” She presses her ass into my hand, but otherwise doesn’t stir. “Lachlan.”

I still when I notice her eyes are still closed, realizing that she’s dreaming of me. It makes the beast in me positively feral, and I feel an itch in my fingertips as my claws threaten to spread. How quickly she pushes me into the monster just by being near me.

“Keyanna,” I murmur again, gliding my hand under her shirt to ruck it up, exposing her soft stomach. I lean to press a kiss under her navel, peering up at her all the while. “Wake up.”

“That feels nice,” she answers breathily, eyes still closed.

“Does it?” My lips quirk as I hook a finger into her shorts, exposing her hip bone and kissing there too. “Wake up, and I’ll make you feel better.”

I press my nose into the crease of her thigh, finding the scent of her arousal already growing, making me doubly curious as to what she’s been dreaming of. I lick at her skin, sucking a kiss there and gripping her thigh tight until I finally hear a gasp above me.

“Lachlan?”

Her pretty green eyes are heavy with sleep, blinking down at me as she tries to make sense of my being here.

“Someone slept in,” I tell her.

She groans. “Grandpa cornered me again. Didn’t know how to say no.”

“How hinging are you?”

She shrugs. “I made sure not to have more than one of those poisonous toddies of his.”

“Probably good for your health, that,” I chuckle.

She shoots up in bed suddenly. “Oh! Rhona said something last night.”

“Did she?”

“She said this is my father’s old room.”

My eyes widen, looking around the space. “Is that right?”

“Don’t you know what this means?”

I cock my head, eyeing her curiously. “What?”

“The journal could be here.” She points at the floor to drive home her point. “It could be hidden in this room somewhere.”

My mouth parts, and I let my eyes sweep across the ordinary-looking room once more. “It could be,” I tell her. I reach to grab her arm, squeezing gently. “But let’s not get our hopes up. I don’t want you disappointed if it isn’t, aye?”

“It has to be,” she urges, looking stricken. “We’re running out of time. I can feel it.”

“Shh, love,” I coo, pulling her into my chest. “Don’t fret. It will be all right.”

“We don’t know that,” she mumbles against my shirt. “I feel like shit that we still haven’t found it.”

I rub her back, hating to see her so stressed.

“Maybe I could make you feel better,” I murmur, kissing her hair. I grin then, remembering. “If you tell me what you were dreaming of.”

Her cheeks immediately go pink, her mouth parting in surprise. “Dreaming?”

“You said my name, love,” I tell her, dipping to kiss her cheek.

“I was—oh.” She makes a surprised sound when I push at her chest to urge her back down to the bed, parting her thighs and settling between them. “This,” she gasps. “I was dreaming of this.”

“You were dreaming about me tasting your pretty cunt?”

She bites her lip, nodding. “Except…”

“Except?”

“Well…you were…”

I run my nose up the center of her underwear, thankful as fuck that she prefers to sleep in just them. “I was?”

“You were kind of like last night.”

I go still, peering up at her as I smirk. “Were you dreaming of the beast, Key?”

“Maybe.”

The beast in question all but purrs inside me, closer to the surface than it’s ever been when Key is around.

“Tell me what you dreamed,” I urge.

“Your tongue,” she says softly. “It was…It got…bigger.”

My cock twitches in my jeans, and prickling at my fingertips tells me my claws have started to come out. Like knowing that she accepts me like this makes it easier to let go. I scrape them lightly against her skin, earning myself a sharp intake of her breath.

“Your eyes,” she breathes. “They’re so pretty like this.”

I hook one claw into the elastic of her underwear, watching her as I carefully, carefully rip at the fabric. I can smell the way she gets wetter, my senses sharper in this in-between state. She likes this, I reaffirm. She really does.

“You want me to fuck you with a beast’s tongue?”

“It was—shit.” She hisses when I rip the other side of her underwear, slowly pulling them away and tossing them to the floor. “It was just a dream.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” I tell her. “But then again…your granny said no shenanigans when she let me in.”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “Did you lock the door?”

“Aye.”

“She’ll be feeding the chickens for a little while. If you…Well. If you wanted to—”

“I told you, love,” I remind her. “I could have this pretty cunt for every meal, aye?”

She nods shakily. “You did.”

“Spread your legs,” I rasp. “Show me what’s mine.”

She sucks in a breath as she moves to do as I’ve said, parting her legs to reveal the already-wet crease of her, just begging for my mouth. The sight and scent of her set off a rumble in my chest that sounds barely human, but I force myself to show restraint, turning my head to kiss her thighs instead of diving between her legs to feast on her cunt like my body is urging me to.

“So soft,” I tell her between presses of my lips against her skin. “So sweet.” I lick up the inside of her thigh, tentatively letting go to the monstrous urges as I feel my incisors elongate and my tongue thicken. I concentrate on that sensation, trying to contain the beastliness to only where I want it, something that is admittedly difficult since I’ve never attempted it before.

She gasps when I finally let the elongated organ slip between her thighs, licking through the lips of her cunt and letting the tip curl around her already-swollen clit. Fuck, her taste. It makes me feel more feral than I no doubt already look.

She whimpers when I let my tongue glide down through her folds to let the tip tease at her entrance, but then something happens that surprises us both.

“Oh!”

I jerk back, glancing down at my too-long tongue with wide eyes as she does the same, eyeing the tip, which has split into two points to make a forked end. I draw as much as I can back into my mouth that will fit, watching her to see if it’s too much. When I notice her dilated pupils and the way she subtly wets her bottom lip, I realize that it isn’t.

I dip between her legs with renewed fervor, curling my hands around her thighs to keep her open to my mouth as I push the forked tip of my tongue through the crease of her, stopping at her clit to tease the bundle of nerves with both ends. I flick and tug and torment until she’s panting, my eyes going half-mast as a satisfied hum resonates in my throat.

When I let the split points of my tongue find her entrance again, her back bows slightly, her mouth falling open as I push them inside, letting the newly stretched length of my tongue fill her in a way I never could as just a man. The wet, soft heat of her inside envelops my tongue, and the forked tip tickles her in the most sensitive places, causing her to buck her hips.

I push my tongue as deep as I can, only to slowly withdraw it, and Key’s entire body shivers with its exit, her chest heaving as a small whimper escapes her lips.

“Lachlan,” she says tightly. “That feels—”

I can’t speak, not like this, so instead I double my efforts, starting to undulate my tongue back and forth, imagining it’s my cock pumping into her. The sensation of her softness against my tongue is maddening, and I can feel my cock throbbing against the mattress, begging for relief. But this is about her right now.

I close my eyes as I let my tongue glide in and out of her, her thighs pressing against my hair as her body wiggles in my hold. All I can see and taste and smell is Key, and the beast inside revels in it, wants more—it wants to consume all of her, every last bit. My top lip trips against her throbbing clit, and she makes a garbled sound, so I do my best to suck it even hindered as I am.

I draw my tongue all the way out, lapping up her center before murmuring, “Och, love, I could eat you alive.”

“Feels good,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I mumble, already tickling her entrance with the forked ends of my tongue before plunging back inside.

I show her no mercy now, giving her a steady in and out and in and out until she’s writhing with it, until her sounds are so loud, I worry about someone coming to see if she’s okay. I squeeze her thighs in warning, and I hear a choked sound, like she’s trying to hold it back. When I peek up at her, I noticed she’s biting the fleshy part of her hand, her lashes fluttering as she tries to keep quiet.

Fuck, why is that so hot?

I grip the soft skin of her thighs tighter, holding her firm while I fuck her with my tongue, shutting my eyes tight so I can revel in the scents and sounds of her. The soft, wet noises coming from her warm cunt as my tongue thrusts in and out, the heady scent of her arousal filling my nostrils and the room and my head—all of it a cocktail potent enough to drive me mad.

I can feel my claws pressing into her skin, hard enough to draw blood, and it takes all I have to show restraint, to not pierce her flesh while I lose myself in her. It becomes even more difficult when she starts to shake, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as her back bows and her arms scramble for purchase.

I can feel it—taste it—when she comes, and the monster in me keeps going, keeps lapping up every drop, letting it soak my tongue until my head spins. I don’t stop until she’s whimpering with sensitivity, finally, finally drawing my tongue back until only the forked ends remain, cleaning the quivering hole like the greedy beast I apparently am.

I’m still lapping at her gently when she says, “Oh my fucking God.”

“Aye,” I chuckle. “Lachlan is just fine.”

She smacks my shoulder, but it’s a weak move. “Pervert.”

“Oh?” I nip her inner thigh, willing my heart rate to slow so that I might tempt my body into going back to normal. “And who was dreaming of such a scandalous thing, hm?”

She says nothing, just making a chuffed noise.

“Was it as good as your dream?” I ask.

She blows a puff of air through her lips. “And then some.” She rises up on her elbows, looking down at me with glassy eyes. “What about you?”

“S’posed to be helping fix the fence on the western side of the farm,” I tell her. “Likely I’ll be busy all day.”

“So are you saying you don’t have time for me to suck you until your eyes cross like you just did me?”

Everything below the belt positively throbs, and it takes all my restraint not to pin her to the bed and have my way with her.

“Aye, well…” I clear my throat. “I s’pose I have a little time.”

She gives me a coy grin. “That’s what I thought.”