Page 201 of The Knucker King

“Whatever you wish,” Trewoofe replied, handing her the bandage.

His smile lit up the garden, fangs glinting in the warm afternoon Sunshine. Lightning sparked between their skin when she touched his wrist. She undid the ribbon holding his sleeve in place and rolled it up his forearm. Avice caressed his raised scars, echoes of when she found him dying at the bottom of Knucker Hill.

Avice wound the bandage around his wrist.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Deliberately.

She spoke the true depths of her feelings for the kind, wise, sensitive, and handsome Knucker before her.

“You do not own, for I belong to myself.” Her voice shook. Trewoofe cupped her cheek with the hand that was not being tied. She drew strength from the heat that kindled between them. “But I give you all that which is mine to give. I shall be yours in all the ways you require. My heart, my body, my soul. Our lives will be as sweet as honey cakes, and all the sweeter from my hand.”

Avice secured her end with a pretty, ornate bow. She knew it would not come apart easily; there was no chance she was letting her King go. Trewoofe ran his thumb around her eye, and then her lip, lingering on her scars. He took the end of the bandage which was his to tie.

He rolled up her hanging sleeve, crinkling the delicate green material. Then, he began to tie his knot. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he began to speak.

“Yours will be the eyes I smile into each morning when I wake. Forevermore, you will have the first drink from my river and the first bite from my hunt.” Avice grinned at his very ‘Knuckerish’ vows. “Ours is a match of equals, and I will love you until the Sun goes out and the Moon falls from the sky. This is my oath to you, my beloved Queen.”

He completed his knot and tugged it to ensure its integrity.

“That is going nowhere,” Avice teased. She tugged on the bandage, there was some slack to the length that allowed them to move somewhat freely but still be close, pulling Trewoofe forward so their bodies were pressed together. “And neither are you.”

He traced his claws along her jawline. “You may regret that. You will never be rid of me, little witch.”

Avice lowered her voice. “What do we do now?”

Apparently, she was not that quiet. Matilda, with Boarden bouncing on her knee, called out from the small crowd.

“You kiss!” she shouted.

The humans laughed loudly and the Good Neighbours looked confused.

“A kiss,” Trewoofe purred, “is a fantastic idea.”

“Do not get too carried away,” Avice scolded playfully. “We have an audience.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “That did not stop us last time.”

Her cheeks burnt at the recollection. Swallowing down her embarrassment, Avice grabbed his tunic front and tugged him into a smouldering kiss. His mouth slotted easily over hers, hot and eager for her attention. He tasted of healing waters and new shoots, and smelt of petrichor and fallen leaves. He gripped her biceps, pulling her closer, as though he wanted to press her under his skin. Avice felt his tongue lick the seam of her lips, and a fang nibble her scar. She pulled away, scorching hot, before they actually did get carried away.

She cleared her throat before turning to address the small gathering. “Thank you for coming—” John started to clap, followed by Joan, then by all the other humans in attendance. The Good Neighbours clumsily followed suit, slapping together their paws, claws, and hands. Avice grinned and waited for the applause to peter out. “Now, please, eat, drink, talk, sing, and dance!”

Trewoofe tugged her back into a crushing embrace and pressed what felt like a thousand kisses to her forehead. He pressed a final sloppy one to her cheek, before sliding his lips to her ear.

“Let us get honey cakes,” he whispered seductively.

Avice laughed brightly as she ambled behind him, the linen tie slack between them. She scanned the gathering as they made their way over to the feasting table. Everyone she cared about was here. Her chest was warm, as though her heart were a Sunlit meadow, and wildflowers bloomed there.

“Little witch!” Trewoofe said out around his mouthful. “These are your best honey cakes yet!”

His enthusiasm broke her reflection, and she smiled so wide that her cheeks began to ache. She joined him, breaking up a honey cake, tossing a crumb to Ashling, who floated beside her, and the other half to Bramble at her feet. Finally, she took a bite of her own.

Trewoofe was right, they were her best honey cakes yet.

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