Page 96 of Dare
Then came another extraordinary reaction. Deference. Mounted on the feline, with a viper around her throat like a necklace, she transformed into a ruler of this wild.
A queen of her own making.
So perhaps … perhaps this place had indeed chosen her. Or perhaps she was a greater force than even she gave herself credit for, beyond whatever the forest dictated.
***
When Flare had fractured her rib, I checked on her more than necessary, monitoring her as she slept.
Staring. Watching.
Purely to make sure. No other reason.
Though, keeping my impulses platonic became increasingly difficult. With regular nourishment, Flare’s body filled out, endowing her with wider curves. Tits that pumped with each breath. A shapely ass that bent over. Hips that swayed from side to side as she danced in a sandstorm, a performance that incited predatory instincts, the need to pursue her.
No matter how I sought to purge these cravings from my system, they persisted. The antidote for such a chronic condition didn’t fucking exist. At the very least, something to dilute my sex drive would have been welcome.
Weeks became a month, then another month, then another. These clustered feelings pulled on my chest like stitches, tight and straining to break free. I tried organizing them, then refuting them.
I fucking tried.
Yet her impassioned words uprooted me, her musings and opinions no longer irrelevant or infuriating. At some point before the siren shark’s attack, I had ceased talking with Flare merely out of obligation. On the contrary, I’d met her halfway, wanting to hear her thoughts. Somewhere along the way, ours had become a partnership.
Then it became something else. Except I had no right to need her, obsess over her, want her. Much less to have her.
That was the mistake. Not touching or tasting Flare, but believing I had earned that privilege.
The second she’d broken my vial, I had despised Flare. I’d loathed her for destroying that which was precious to me. And thus, for betraying the one memory I still kept from her.
Then in Summer’s tower, I had wrapped my hand around her neck. How I wanted to mutilate myself for those crimes. How I longed to pare the cartilage from my bones, torture myself the way I would torture anyone who laid a finger on her.
No. I had not earned Flare’s affection. No monster ever could.
***
We stumbled across a jungle in the south. A break in the canopy allowed light to flood the ground, burying the environment in dense plant life, the route barely passable.
Undeterred by the labyrinth of greenery, Flare played a game of hide-and-seek with her fauna pack, including the reptile and—for fuck’s sake—the saber-toothed jaguar. As they slipped through cavities of foliage, the beast’s eyes sparkled, her laughter chiming through the brush. Her joy was a vibrant thing, penetrating the shadows, impervious to them.
I stared. This was how Flare looked when she was happy.
No one had found us. We hadn’t been rescued. Despite that … when I looked at her now … when I saw and thought of nobody but this woman … I hardly gave a fuck. In moments like this, I viewed this realm through her eyes.
Beauty. Freedom. Sanctuary.
Regardless, losing sight of each other in the forest was a constant gamble. To calm myself, I inspected a hedge of prickled vines. When I got too close, one of the threads snatched my hands. The confounded thing tightened with each of my attempts to move, thus stifling my circulation. Superb. It figured I would tread cautiously and then encounter a nefarious plant, whereas the little beast pranced about yet remained unscathed.
Soon after, the object of my envy and desire popped from the shrubbery. Registering my predicament, she used her dagger to extract me from the snare. When her digits traced the welts around my wrists, the blood rushed back in.
“See?” Flare beamed. “The rainforest can trap or heal.”
Seasons flay me. The sight of those hands grabbing things, claiming them, healing them. By some miracle, I refused to yield, to let my baser instincts take over.
But I wanted to. And I wanted to. And I fucking wanted to.
More than that, a new ambition veered my thoughts into uncharted terrain. I would like to do something nice for her.
My fingers stole out and tucked a wavy lock behind Flare’s ear. To my satisfaction, a shiver passed through her.