Page 74 of The Knucker King

Delight spread a smile on his face, and he shot up, banging his horns on the ceiling beams. He quickly ducked, determined not to make a fool of himself again, and moved carefully towards her.

He stopped in front of her. “Little witch,” he whispered. His fingers twitched to hold her. “May I put my arms around you?”

“Hug.” Her voice cracked as tears washed away the dried blood on her cheeks. “We call it a hug.”

Trewoofe nodded eagerly and opened his arms. “Then, may I— Ooof.”

Avice threw herself against his belly and interlaced her fingers at the small of his back. He ignored the twinge of pain from the squeeze against his wounds. The way he felt right now, he thought his heart might burst from his chest. He curled his body over and enveloped her, keen to drink in her honey and lavender aroma.

Soft and warm against him, Trewoofe breathed her in. His nose wrinkled, she did not smell like herself, instead he scented: blood, horse, oils, fish, and the musky scent of a human male. He scowled at that last odour, and something ugly twisted within him.

He stood straight, one hand on her shoulder, and another cupping her blood-smeared cheek. “Where did you go? Who were you with? What happened to you? And Nature’s blessing, are you hurt?”

Trewoofe surprised himself at the roughened edge to his voice. He was reminded of the Grim’s presence with a clatter of sticks over by the hearth. In his periphery, he saw Ashling land on the familiar’s head, his flames swirling from blue to purple and back again.

Avice tilted her chin up to him, her face pinched. “I do not like your tone.”

Panic bubbled in him. What is this feeling? I have not felt this way since I danced alongside the other Knucker male for Lindana.

Before he could explain himself – that it came from a place of concern and jealousy – she tore from his embrace, and he immediately missed the soft press of her curves.

Her expression sharpened. “Green is an ugly colour on you,” she hissed.

Trewoofe frowned and looked down at himself. “I am not green.”

Avice grunted and swept from the cottage. He watched, wringing his hands, as Bramble and Ashling darted out behind her. He scrubbed his face and sighed, wondering how it had all gone so wrong so quickly.

The Wisp floated back in and landed on his offered hand. “Avice is very upset at you. She has had a challenging time recently; today, most of all. Dealing with human males has always been difficult for her and today was spent doing that.”

“It was not my intention,” Trewoofe replied. “Words spilled from my tongue before I could think. I was worried about her. When I saw the blood, it muddled with my feelings of jealousy when I smelt a human male on her.”

Ashling fluttered to the open door. “Then you should tell her that.”

Trewoofe took a deep breath and stepped outside. His horns scratched the top of the door frame and a jolt of cold bolted up his legs as his soles met the frost. His heart broke as he studied Avice, furious at himself that he had done this to her.

She leant against the cottage wall, wiping tears away with one gloved hand, and the other scratching Bramble’s head. The familiar peeled his lips back as Trewoofe approached, and Avice looked at him with a crumpled expression.

“I am angry at you,” she stated simply.

“I know, and I am sorry. My tone was rude and accusatory. I felt a knot of jealousy, here.” He tapped his chest. “And it got tangled with my concern for you.”

A line appeared between her brows. “Jealous. Why?”

“You do not smell like you. You smell like a mix of fish and human male. I know you are not my soul-bound, but the thought of you being with another male makes me feel ugly on the inside.”

Avice scoffed. “I was with a man. John—”

Trewoofe prickled with envy and opened his mouth to speak.

She pointed up at him. “Wait! Let me finish. John escorted me on horseback into the village so I could attend to a patient. That is all.”

“So, you and John are not…?”

“No,” she chuckled. “Maybe, if he had fancied me back when we were younger. I would have liked him to court me, but John rejected me. He does not like me that way.”

For some incomprehensible reason, that made Trewoofe’s anger flare brighter. “He rejected you. What kind of fools are human males that they would refuse someone as wonderful, caring, beautiful, and fierce as you.”

Avice blinked up at him. “You think I am all those things?”