Brittle | MXM Short Story

Chapter 4 - 𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙛'𝙨 𝘾𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙣

CHAPTER FIVE

KORT

The pain he caused me felt good. His arms wrapping around my smaller frame caused a stinging feeling that awakened my length; thank the gods for my cloak hiding it. Every time those hands went under my arms to pick me from the ground my skin thrills but I refused to question it not wanting him to stop.

We spoke little words on the way to the river until we arrived. I had learnt his name was Stone which I felt not honoured to address him as, also minor details of the fight with his father. Stone sat me down onto the rocky bay laying my feet out in front me, earning a whimper at the cramping pain. Then he stood over them, his legs caging mine to strip off his pants revealing the line cloth as his last garment.

Body soaked in sweat from our journey, the mage's hand ran through his short curls while staring down at me. Immediately my head turned to the floor, avoiding the package seemingly inches before my face - having little experience in seeing one up close was embarrassing enough - until the chief made his way into the water.

Grabbing my leg he chuckled, "They only nibble and I don't bite." Gesturing at the many fish in the river causing me to release a laugh. My butt scooted further by the water onto enough to submerge my feet into the cold where Stone then held them by the ankle.

The way he began massaging my muscles was painful...brutal at that. Tears were trickling down my face. No matter how gentle those hands were, my right leg still cramped and stiffened causing my other leg to kick at his hands constantly. Still he went unbothered and folded my toes one by one slowly making his way up my calves to bend them. It wasn't only the physical side of it, It hurt to watch someone care so much for me, for Kort.

The maids cared less about me rather than spending their time dressing me in proper attire. They would give me skirts to make their lives easier, sometimes even bathe me only two times per week. Father never brought a witch doctor to try to cure me...he gave up the minute I fell and insisted on the wheelchair.

But now seeing this man care for my injury warmed my chest painfully. If anyone caught us they'd make a joke out of him for helping me but I couldn't care for that alternative, I was becoming selfish for more of his touch. Loving the way his fingers, his magic, swarmed my legs and flexed them to his liking.

"So...Kort, would you care to explain why you were in the coven chambers. I don't record seeing you before, is that why you were scared we'd get caught? Did you roll yourself up there and take free residence?" The chief mocked jokingly but not in an offensive tone making me laugh along. It was enough to distract all the other feelings around me.

"Sir Yaekl, If I say you would never believe me."

Eyes not rising from my feet he spoke. "I've seen and heard many unbelievable things, Kort. Try me." My fingers entwined with one-another and my stubby teeth bit into my lips. Should I really tell him? Would he be the first to believe me?

"I'm the Count's son. The brother of Malcolm Solace and son of the late lady Solace!" I blurted overly fast. Silent at first, the mage's only response was a intrigued eyebrow then finally facing me discreetly in the eyes. The atmosphere turned airy and I was left with no answer when noticing that Stone began to leave the river and dry himself. What was he trying to say? Did he know already or did he think I was foolish for believing in such a thing?

"Let's get back." Chief grunted while scooping me back off the floor and walking me home. A month after that it was never mentioned again. Everyother week I'd find myself swept away by Sir Yaekl to go to the river or by the tree stumps where I would sit and admire his practice.

To my surprise his efforts were not in vain. Soon enough I felt more control on my legs, small steps in my healing such as flexing my toes on my own and even hovering my foot off the ground which Sir Yaekl cheered on the most as my best accomplishment.

His reward was to bathe me, massage my entire body. I was hesitant to accept his offer even if there was no denying the experience was going to be pleasurable. I was most concerned about being stripped before the chief's gaze, vulnerable, to then let his hands touch me all over.

After little thinking I accepted, resulting a day after with Sir Yaekl in the waters waiting for me to take his hand. This morning I purposely asked the maids to dress me in a skirts which they did with no buffer making it easier for me to undress. I slid out of my garments until my chest was bare and my groan revealed a lacy black underwear. It was bewildering how glued chief was to my bone-hips and lace, his tongue passing over his lips as if I wouldn't notice. I shamefully hid my smile.

Reaching forward, Stone brought me up to his chest before making me sit in the shallow which wasn't shallow at all. The waters breached my shoulders in height when sitting and it barely went past the chief's chest. Sitting on his lap was challenging enough trying to prevent my body from squirming on his loincloth or even worse, biting him.

His open wounds smelled so delicious.

So I just allowed myself to allow the beast to scrub my back and resist my intrusive thoughts.

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It had been exactly two hours since we were at the river and now somehow I was invited to chief's cabin for the first time. The cold cobblestone tiles welcomed my presence when sir Yaekl placed me down on a chair at the dinner table. He walked off into the rustic kitchen causing the sound of slamming pans and even a woman's motherly yelling to be heard before he returned with two full plates.

My stomach churns at the noxious sight. Buttered toast with eggs scrambled and even an iced dessert but vampires don't eat this. I feel ashamed to waste the heartfelt meal with the only thing moving on my plate being my fork playing on the silverware.

It was taking everything for bile not to come up my throat. Clearly my distaste was showing because soon enough my food was put onto the chief's plate - his own holding a pork head - and he sent me a calming look that cooled my embarrassment.

Everything was alright Kort, this is normal for all vampires.

"We don't have any blood here for ya but when I'm done I'll let you drink some of mine. Alright princess?" That nickname...he mocking me from when I told him I was the son of the Count. I nodded like a helpless puppy, my thighs rubbing together just imagining his blood trickling down my throat and his groans of pleasure while I feast, "There aren't many bucks out in the wild these days so I hope mine would do. If you want to walk again you'll need plenty of nutrition after all." He winked.

I have always been sensitive to most blood types, never finding the smell of something appetising and even breaking out in hives while tasting it. But Stone's own had me anticipating and jumping in my seat.

I remained patient watching each bite and sip of his wine waiting for my turn. My left food tapped on the stone with my fingers clawed into my skirt. Minutes flew by before I hopelessly brought up a topic randomly feeling my patience running thin and the urges becoming too overwhelming.

"Have you ever killed someone?"