I didn’t expect Queenie to take my admission as well as she did, but I also didn’t plan for a blizzard inside our bedroom. Once she calmed down and I could get my shit together, we started plotting. By the time we fell asleep, I felt like we were truly working as a team for the first time.
That was a week ago and in the interim, the preparation for the Yule celebration began. Though the Ice Kingdom is perennially covered in sparkling holiday snow and ice, the royal family makes an enormous show of decking the halls. My girl is a big part of that effort because of her magic, so she’s been creating sculptures and icicle garlands day and night. Her sister has guards accompany us to each location, watching from the shadows as Q does her thing.
At first, I thought we’d been discovered, but the lack of punishment dispelled that notion. When a couple of children tried to approach us in the village, the escorts shooed them before they could get within fifty yards of us. I realized Chelle is terrified we will speak to the people of the realm—something I’ve never seen happen before. It made me wonder why it changed and what she’s hiding.
I told Queenie that I needed to do recon on my own. If there’s trouble in the villages, it might give us an escape route. Anything that might distract the current queen or derail her holiday celebration is fair game when it comes to getting the two of us very far away from the Ice Kingdom.
In order to find out what’s happening, Trixie and I are sneaking out of the underground tunnels below the castle. The capuchin is riding on my shoulder, keeping quiet as I use the same compass I did in our room. Its needle spins as I slog through the muck, eyes darting at every noise. I don’t believe the queen assigned guards to watch these tunnels, but I have no idea how deep her paranoia runs.
Of course, that paranoia is less chuckle-worthy now that Queenie and I are planning our subterfuge.
“Wah wah wah!” The rumble call Trixie makes gives me immediate pause. Capuchins make it when something they hear is dangerous or scary, including my little friend. Just because I didn’t hear what she did doesn’t mean it’s not there.
Moving slowly so I don’t step on any debris or slosh a puddle, I sink into the shadows of an archway and listen. After a few moments, the sound of heavy boots echoes off the stone and laughter resonates around me. Plastering myself against the wall, I peek out to see who is stomping around the secret tunnels of our castle.
“Aye, Jorge, we plundered a bountiful feast, mate!”
“For the love of Poseidon’s salty ballsack, please leave the pirate slang for the ports. We get enough of it when the crew’s about.”
Who the fuck are those guys and what are they doing in our home?
“I will when you promise to embrace our latest venture. I’m trying to get you in the spirit of the yo-ho-holidays, mate.”
“How can I do that when you insist on calling me by the wrong name?”
“Don’t be cranky, Jorgie. I only do it to get your scales ruffled, so after we distribute this loot to the people of the village, you’ll be inclined to put me in your mouth rather than your tail.”
That makes my brows raise and I scoot closer to the light, hoping to make out these two thieves without getting caught. They sound cute and I’ve always been a fan of bad boys. The playful one reminds of someone I knew a long time ago—the pirate I got the compass from. He was human when we dated, so it’s not likely to be him, but I’ve often missed his whimsy.
A brief scuffling sound is followed by a groan. I ease into the light, squinting for a moment until I can make out the pair pressed against the tunnel wall. The one I assume is Jorgie has black and green spiky hair, tattoos on his face and neck, and a lip ring made of shiny obsidian. He’s holding a burly redhead against the wall while he strokes his… tentacles?
This kind of shit only happens to me, I fucking swear.
Queenie would quite like having two shifter hotties join us, I think. She doesn’t have any experience with anyone but me, but her adventurous streak has led us to watch people in the past. We enjoy a bit of voyeurism and she’s remarked she might be open to bringing others into our games. It’s a damn shame I’m too busy to approach the pirates. I think I would enjoy directing those lovely appendages all over her body.
Blast my singular focus.
I sigh quietly, slipping along the wall as the loud slurping sounds of a pretty enthusiastic blowjob echo off the tile. This is making my pussy throb and I need to keep my head on my shoulders if I'm going to get past the guards on the perimeter of the castle. What the fuck am I going to do? I duck into the next archway and suck in a deep breath as moans fill the air.
If I can’t beat them…
Sending Trixie to scout the outside of the tunnel, I lean against the wall in my new hiding place. My hands come up to pinch my pierced nipples, twisting and tugging until they ache. When the sucking sound intensifies, I unzip my black cargo pants, slipping my hand into my panties. Unless I relieve this pressure, I’m going to be distracted all night and without Queenie here, this is what I’m left with.
“Jorgie…”
As the two of them murmur to each other, I circle my clit with a finger, spreading the growing wetness as it throbs. The scent of sex is permeating the enclosed area and I push two fingers inside, rocking my hips as the rusty-haired pirate whimpers and begs Jorgie for more. I’m not sure if they’re in the lifestyle, but the tentacled one sounds as desperate as my girl does when I’m keeping her from her release.
Fuck, it’d be hot to top the two of them together.
That thought makes my pussy clench around my digits, and I have to bite my lip. My thumb flicks over my clit, making a shudder roll over me. I speed the motions, listening for the timing of the men and fucking myself along with their tempo. A low hissing sound is followed by a whimper and I imagine what kind of creature the punk rock Jorgie might have been to make it. Forked tongues are hot as fuck and the thought of it on me while I lick my girl to climax pushes me over the edge.
I have to control the harsh pants of my breath as the orgasm flutters through me. The exhibitionist pirates zip and gather their things, murmuring lower than I can hear. Footsteps come closer and I shrink into the darkness farther when they pause again.
“Fuck, Levi. It smells like sex and fairy dust in here. Did you sniff something before we came out of the castle?”
Oh, shit.
“Hell no, Jorgie. Even I know better than to get happy when we’re on a job. I mean, happy in that way, not your way.”
I cover my mouth, trying not to giggle. This Levi isn’t stupid, but he’s adorably goofy. Queenie would adore him.
“Someone must use these tunnels for an affair with a Fae. It’s unmistakable… I can taste it.”
Reptiles… those tongues are fucking astounding.
“Let’s get out of here, Jorgie. We need to get the food to those people and then we can find ourselves one of the sparkling hordes to play with. They’re everywhere—even this shitty ice hole.”
I frown as they mention that their loot is food. Now that my brain is working, that concerns me. Trixie tugs on my pant leg and I glance down at her. She points toward the receding men and I sigh.
Looks like I’m not done with the tentacle boys yet.
* * *
“Where the hell are these douches going?” I grumble to Trixie. They lead me out of the tunnels to a serious gap in our perimeter coverage—something I’d address with that snarly yeti shifter the current queen employs as Captain of the Guard if I weren’t taking mental notes on how to use it for our escape. But they’re still lugging the large sacks of stolen foodstuffs and we’ve been walking for a long ass time.
The common villages were within a short carriage ride the last time Queenie and I did a ‘goodwill tour’; why are we going so far afield?
Trixie chitters a little and I turn my attention back to the worst pirates I’ve ever seen as they crest the top of a tall hill. The area feels familiar—we might be on the outskirts of the kingdom where my girl chased a snow monster before I arrived. When they whistle, I sink back into the trees and hope like hell I haven’t fallen into some kind of ambush. The darkly handsome Jorge scented me in the tunnels, and I could have missed some sort of communication between them.
Luckily for me, a platoon of fellow seafarers doesn’t appear. Instead, a large icy bird comes soaring out of the clouds to meet them. A blue flame engulfs its body, and my jaw drops to the ground. There are legends written about this creature but most supes agree they are simply a myth—laughable considering all the species that exist, but we aren’t any more exempt from irony than humans. According to the creature only forty feet from me, ice phoenixes are as real as I am.
The bird swoops down and perches on Jorge’s shoulder, trilling a haunting melody. He smiles and strokes its head before he says, “Open the gates, Isa.”
A flash of flame and another melody echo off the surrounding cliffs until a bright blue shield appears, then disappears. Jorge and Levi pick up their sacks, dragging them down the hill towards a large village I couldn’t see before. I inch closer to the spot they were standing, dropping into the snow despite the cold. Reaching into my hip holster, I pull out the tiny metal binoculars I inherited from my time with a regency spy and peer down.
People are pouring from the houses, greeting them with cheers of thanks. Not just any people—the population of this secret town looks to be a large percentage of the commoners of the Ice Kingdom. They’re all gaunt and dressed in clothes that are barely held together, but adults, children, and the elderly are crowding around the men as if they are saviors.
What in the hell is going on here? Queenie would lose her mind if she saw her people like this.
The truth hits me like a plateful of smelly trout. Queen Chelle has quietly exiled the poorest citizens of the Ice Kingdom over the years. All of her ‘special’ lords and ladies have taken over every inch of the viable lands and businesses until the workers and their families had nowhere to go. This town is their refugee camp and these odd thieves are playing Robin Hood to the starving people by stealing from our stores.
This is why Queenie and I got sent to the summer castle a few years ago, and it’s why we aren’t allowed to leave without the Queen’s guards.
The phony queen of the Ice Kingdom gentrified, and she’s terrified her sister—or the world at large—will find out. I can’t even wrap my head around this discovery; it’s so offensive that my brain won’t even allow me to accept what I’m seeing. Especially because I know if I tell my girl what I found, she won’t leave and I know it will be a death sentence. Without this knowledge, she was in danger, but with it, she’s little more than a problem to be silenced.
What in the name of Odin am I going to do?
Scrambling to my feet, I scoop Trixie up from the branch she settled in and start the long walk back to our home with a heavy heart. I don’t want to lie to Queenie now that we’re on the same page. I also can’t allow her soft heart to make a decision I know will lead to her demise. If we are to escape the reign of terror, her sister has imposed, I’m going to have to come up with a secondary plan to save her people on my own.
If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.