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340 pages, Paperback
First published May 4, 2025
Remy added, 'I know you don't kiss, but it'd be very helpful if—'
Feilan said, 'I kiss.'
Then the monster was upon them.
It came at a ground-eating lope, intent on the prey Feilan had habituated it to.
Despite his acceptance that there was more to the local stories than a rogue bear, he’d still developed a bear-shaped idea in his head, somewhat taller than a man, covered in thick hair, clumsy but fierce.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Eventually, Remy said, sounding less angry but more indignant, 'How can you possibly be this good at hugging?'
‘Looks good enough to eat,’ Torben growled. Hand still working, he leaned close over Feilan, nibbling his ear, making him muffle a gasp. ‘Plenty for both of us.'
Feilan was sure Renart wouldn’t understand the words, but his eyes widened regardless. It was the purring, predatory tone, and the way Torben was looking at him.
The way Feilan was looking at him, too.
‘Foxy could watch and learn,’ Torben suggested idly as he swam over. He addressed Remy in his rough Midlands. ‘What do you think, Rufran? Shall I show you exactly what he likes?'
Feilan shut his own eyes. For a moment, he was overcome with rampaging lust – Torben breaching him roughly from behind, a fist in his hair to pull his head back so that Remy could shove his more circumspect cock down his throat, its slender length crammed all the way. Torben grunting with each deep thrust, Remy making those soft, uncontrolled sounds of pleasure—
‘I’m not sharing either, Thunder Bear,’ Remy said, in heavily accented but still intelligible Vaer. Carefully, but determinedly, he removed Torben’s hand from Feilan’s stomach.
‘Ja.’ Torben placidly paddled a circle. Then he swung around to face Remy and said, ‘He’s not yours.’
It wasn't that Feilan was tending Remy's hair, he knew. It was their interrupted air of affection. Men didn't do that. Men fucked everyone knew they fucked – but they didn't cuddle afterwards like they were actually fond of each other.
Switching to Midlands, Torben said, 'I told you he's not yours, Rufran.'
Remy said, 'He's made it clear he's not yours, either.'
He passed the bodies of guardsmen, the scent of blood still fresh enough to make hazy clouds of fading blue wherever he looked.