Being a true shifter isn’t the blessing it may seem. But through pain and darkness Perdita seeks to find her own life despite the ambition of others…
Chapter Four – Mothwing
I don’t precisely remember who peeled me out of my leather riding suit, all I can clearly recall is being in my big, soft bed with a hot stone at my feet. When I awoke it was sunset and I felt good. There was a soft, grey robe on my bedside chair and I slipped it over my head. The cottage was quiet and empty, but I could hear Moth scolding in the garden which made me think Mandrake as horticulturally inept as me. I chuckled to myself and moved into the necessary chamber on silent feet. But, of course, Moth heard me.
“Water hot,” she carolled.
Indeed, the big brass tank above the bath was hot to the touch, so I happily filled the tub. There was a jar of crushed herbs on the edge of the bath and I sprinkled them lavishly into the water. I had just dealt with the needs of my bladder etc when there came a knock on the door. As Moth has never knocked on a door in all the centuries of her life it wasn’t a big leap to say.
“Come in Mandrake.”
He was as naked as the day he was born, and magnificently so. However he looked both flustered and annoyed. I could, I thought, trace his mood to a certain little madam who was now singing in her garden.
“You will have to learn to be firm with Moth. Because otherwise she will lead you a merry dance. She can’t help it. She is fae with all that that entails.”
He grimaced. “Easy for you to say. But I’m the junior member of this Three.”
“You are not. We are all equal. Which we need to make clear. But for now the bath is hot and big enough for two.”
His smile was my reward and as I lifted the robe over my head he got his first proper look at my body. My torso is covered in tattoos, the pain of the making of which I do not care to remember. But they are with me forever now and Moth thinks them beautiful. I wondered what Mandrake might think, but the reverent quality of his silence made me understand he thought them beautiful too.
I smiled at him.“Let’s get in the bath, loved one. We wouldn’t want the water to get cold.”
I made to climb into the tub and he lifted me from behind, gently sliding me into the water’s embrace. I sunk into the scented heat and he climbed in after me.
“I have read about the inking of true shifters, but nobody told me it would be beautiful.”
“Mostly it’s not. My master was inked in slashes that looked as though his body was bleeding. The only other I met was dying, and her ink looked like the barbed wire that your dragons flamed this morning.”
“Not my dragons any more amata.”
I laughed. “I think they will always be your dragons.”
“I hope not. They have a new wingleader now.” He lifted his massy shoulders. “Can you tell me how you have flowers and things of nature inked on you if others had only ugliness?”
I was trying to shape words when Moth appeared and sat on the edge of the bath. She dangled her feet in the water.
“Beloved can have beauty because she don’t fight her destiny.”
“The pain was no less,” I said, and I heard the memory of suffering in my voice.
Mandrake heard it too, because he moved like lightning and I found myself cradled between his thighs with his big hands rubbing soapweed into my skin. I let myself relax against him and his knowing fingers found every knotted muscle and strained tendon. I must have groaned in pleasure which caused Moth to stretch her own tiny body.
“Can you do it in water?”
“Do what?” Mandrake laughed and she realised what she had said.
“Mothwing is sorry if she was rude.”
“No dear heart, not rude,” he hastened to reassure her. “We will show you shall we?”
“You can?”
“If our beloved so wills.”
I caught their excitement and climbed across Mandrake’s thick thighs. He took my mouth while my own busy hands explored his skin.
A good while later and the bath water was getting cold. Mandrake stood up with me in his arms and Moth pointed to towels hanging on the heated rail.
“Warm,” she said.
We wrapped ourselves in fluffy warmth and grinned at each other.
“I feel much better now,” I remarked.
Mandrake smirked and I considered punching him, but I was too loose and contented.
Dried and dressed in soft grey wool I mimed hunger and Moth laughed.
“There is food. Beloved dragon helps well in the kitchen, but must not be in garden working.”
“He can’t be worse than me.”
“Can. And hands are too big.”
I laughed into Mandrake’s eyes. “From where I am standing his hands are precisely the right size.”
“Only my hands?”
Moth flew between us. “Stop now. Food.”
She sounded out of reason cross and I couldn’t see why. Mandrake was wiser though and he blew a kiss to the tiny tyrant.
“We are three. And our beloved fae is no less to us because we are what we are to each other.”
I caught on and held out my hand. Moth came and took her favourite perch on my shoulder. “Heart of my heart,” I said, “I love you with all that I am and you must know it. But you have to open your own heart to Mandrake. If you cannot you will never understand the joy of a bonded three.”
She frowned at me. “Not love him more than Mothwing?”
“No. I love nobody more than my Mothwing. I love our Mandrake differently.”
I could hear the confusion in her head, but I could help her no more that I had. Mandrake looked steadily at her.
“Can you not love an old dragon?”
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