Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 64: Chapter 64

Dear gods in the heavens.
Castor growled and paced while the beautiful female was inside, taking a warm shower. He’d already had one in the guest bathroom. Now, he was anxiously awaiting the woman he was indebted to for everything he had since arriving on her doorstep.
How could he ever repay the beautiful female for all she had given him? It worried Castor that she might think him a beggar or worse, the lowly prisoner Dragomir had made him.
No! The beast within him refused to accept such drivel. It was nonsense. He was imprisoned through no fault of his own. Still, he would need to do much to improve his circumstance to be worthy of even her notice.
Was it fair of him? To continue on this path when he knew he was not long for the world. The words of Nicholas and Devine still echoed in his mind. Castor was not meant to live life as a free man or beast. His ChangeDragon was not right. He felt it in the pain that sometimes burned him on his chest and in his blood.
Castor should tell the sweet lady Jozette about his impending doom. Before the attraction he knew she felt, for he felt it too during those odd times he could read her mind, got any stronger. Even now, he struggled to control his desires. It did not help him to think of Jozette in the shower, under the spray of water that flowed like magic, thanks to the wonder that was indoor plumbing.
What he wouldn’t have given for warm water and a shower stall over the past five centuries! Having spent the better part of the last several days reading and catching up on modern times. The Isle of Pain was grossly out of step with the modern world, a fact which had contributed to Dragomir’s downfall.
A growl crept up his throat, his mind wandering to the sounds of what was going on inside the master bathroom.
She was in there. Beneath the warm water. Gloriously naked. Sliding her hands over her slippery skin. Touching that which he coveted.
Es Meus.
His beast growled the unfamiliar phrase, and Castor hissed with smoke puffing from his nostrils. Suddenly, pain lanced through his body from his chest to his stomach. So powerful was the feeling, Castor fell to his knees.
Bloody hell.
He’d almost forgotten the one terrible truth that had sent him halfway across the earth to find his half-brothers. Castor had little time left. He was dying.
Whatever he felt for the amazingly kind and beautiful human, Castor should not give the false impression that he had forever. It was both cruel and untruthful.
Hadn’t he spent enough hours thumbing through the pages of the books in the section marked Romance at Crescent Books to know better? Sweet Jozette had grinned the day she found him thumbing through a novel with a bare chested man on the front. She hadn’t said a word, but he could tell it amused her. After that, he’d read dozens of the things, paying close attention to the sections on coupling with a female.
500 years in a dungeon left Castor void of any sex education, and the one thing he wanted above all was to experience that. With her. But how? And was it unfair of him?
You must not insult the only being to ever show us kindness. Do not touch her. She is not ours.
He repeated the phrases in his mind. Giving every argument for why he should not go near the female, his Dragon grunted and growled unhappily, but Castor was determined to treat Jozette with respect.
Then she came into the room, and he couldn’t remember a single word of his promises to remain unaffected by her presence. Castor’s mouth went dry. His palms started to sweat. His cock grew hard inside the soft fleece he wore.
Es meus, his Dragon insisted, growling softly inside his mind’s eye.
Castor could not blame the beast for wanting her. She was, in a word, exquisite. Her pale skin held a pink glow from her warm bath, and her hair was thick and glossy, hanging down her back. Big brown eyes blinked at him through dark lashes, and her small bow of a mouth held the promise of a smile in just one corner.
Fuck. He would give anything to have the right to touch her. To be worthy of such a prize, but Castor had to remain firm.
Not a problem, his inner Dragon mused, and his cock throbbed, echoing the sentiment.
After the first dozen romance novels, he now recognized that as a sign of carnal lust. It was like a fever burning inside him, making him want to kiss every inch of her flesh, to touch and feel and claim her as his own. There would be no other prize in the world worth having. Knowing her physically would be the culmination of his wildest dreams, and yet, how could he taste her pleasure knowing it would only be short lived as he?
“Hungry?” Jozette’s husky voice reached his ears and there was only one word to suffice.
“Yes.”
“Let’s see what’s in the fridge,” she murmured.
The nightly meal prep was something Castor usually looked forward to. It was strange, the modern world with its packaged meat and abundance of fresh vegetables. Blessings indeed. And common too. Though, from what he’d read and seen on television, many still did not enjoy them. Something he felt the world was not working hard enough to correct.
Usually, he enjoyed helping Jozette and learning from her. Tonight was different. Awareness seemed to hang in the air, like smoke, as the two of them worked side by side.
Yes, he enjoyed cooking. Found he had quite the knack for grilled meats and chopped vegetables. He worked at slicing peppers, onions, and broccolini while Jozette cut thin strips of sirloin and turned the rice cooker on. In thirty minutes, they each had bowls of what she told him was beef stir-fry over brown sushi rice.
“This is amazing,” Castor said, moaning over a sumptuous bite.
“Thanks. You did most of the hard work,” she returned.
“Nonsense. ‘Tis your know how made it possible. I thank you.”
She blushed under the faint praise, and he shook his head. If it were up to him, Castor would ensure she grow used to that kind of thing. Jozette should be properly complimented and on the daily. He only wished he were the man destined to ensure it.
Determined to enjoy his time, however short, Castor turned his attention to the meal and the company. The meat was tender, the vegetables crisp, and the sweet and tangy garlic soy sauce glaze she’d taught him to make was fantastic. Castor had thirds.
“How are you? Nothing hurts after the accident, right?” he asked once the dishes had been washed and put away.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Yes. Fine.”
Usually, they would read companionably or watch something on the flat screen television set. But Castor was wound so tight, he thought for sure, he’d break if tested.
“Um, I think I will turn in early,” Jozette said, racing from the room.
“Fuck,” he growled softly, turning to watch the snow falling in front of the large living room window.
His mettle had never been tested before. Not like this, at any rate. Sure, he’d lived through long bouts of hibernation when Dragomir had forgotten him. Had survived even longer times when beatings and lashings were dished out twice daily. Castor was no stranger to discomfiture.
He sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. Jozette had allowed him to light one every night since he’d arrived. Every flick and flare of flame soothed him and his beast.
He closed his eyes, wondering when and if he would find what he came for. His brothers. Closure. And how would he reconcile that with the wondrous creature who’d come to mean so much to him?
Castor was uncertain how long he sat in that quasi meditative state before the crash sounded outside. That was followed by a sharp buzz, then silence. Utter and complete silence.
It took mere moments for the house to begin to lose heat. Though he worried about such a transgression, Castor went into Jozette’s bedroom, fearing the tiny human would freeze to death if he did not wake her.
Her fragrance seemed to permeate the air as he pushed the door open. Her scent was a heady mixture of sweet coconut and sea foam. Castor licked his lips as he approached her bed, taking in her sleeping form.
She looked so peaceful, so innocent. Completely relaxed and unburdened for the first time since he’d met her. Reaching out with shaking hands, he touched her face, brushing back her long, dark hair. The room was cold, and soon it would wake her. Better he get on with it now, he figured.
“Jozette? Wake up, my treasure,” he murmured the endearment before he even realized it, smiling sadly as he realized how true the sentiment was.