Chapter 5: Dawn's Awakening
The dawn was the color of a fresh bruise, purple and tender, when I was pulled out of sleep. It wasn’t the rising sun, or Kyra’s usual morning call that woke me, but the familiar sensation of rising lust and pleasure coming from my shared bond with Dani.
Looking across the chasm, I could see Griff fucking my wife. He had my wife stretched out on her back in her bedroll as he loomed above her, one massive hand restraining both her hands above her head, while the other one gripped her buttock, holding her in place with an ease that spoke of sure ownership. Dani’s slender legs folded fetchingly around Griff’s waist, as she anchored his cock in her sex.
Their pace wasn’t frantic, not like last night. This was different. Slower.
Deliberate.
Each of Griff’s thrusts was a deep, penetrating push that made Dani’s back arch and her finger clench. A soft, bitten-off moan escaped her with every inward drive. But it was her face that froze the air in my lungs.
She had a look of extreme pleasure and contentment as she rolled leisurely to each of Griff’s thrusts. Her eyes were wide open, staring hungrily at Griff as he ravished her, as though she seeking to commit this moment of intimacy into the depths of her psyche. There was no acknowledgment of my existence, as my wife lost herself completely to the sensation of sex with another man.
Her lips parted on a sharp inhale when Griff sank deeper, adjusting his angle. A shudder ran through her as she savored his intrusion. This was clearly not a pedestrian attempt to recharge her magic, but an act purely borne for pleasure. And I was witness to it.
A small, broken sound came from Kyra’s direction. I couldn’t see her face.
Griff leaned over Dani, his mouth near her ear as he whispered something to her. Dani’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, a faint, real smile touching her lips before they faded into another gasp. He said something else, and she nodded, a quick, eager jerk of her head.
Then his pace increased. The slapping sounds grew sharper, quicker. Dani’s controlled moans broke into high, desperate cries that echoed off the canyon walls. She pushed vigorously against him, meeting his thrusts, her earlier stillness replaced by a hungry rocking. Her eyes stayed on his until the very end, when they squeezed shut and she screamed, a raw, peeling sound of release as her body convulsed under his.
Griff followed with a roar, driving into her one last, final time and staying there, pulsing. He slumped over her, both of them panting, steam rising from their skin in the cold dawn air.
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the wind had died.
Slowly, Griff withdrew, rolling off my wife with a sigh and leaving her to prepare himself for the day. Dani lay in her bedroll for a while longer before she too got up for the day. When she finally looked back at me, the blue glow had faded to a faint shimmer. Her expression was unreadable—a mix of satiation and something like defiance. She gave me the same faint nod as last night, then started to dress herself.
Kyra finally materialised beside me, busying herself with repacking her bedroll with violent, unnecessary force.
“We should break camp,” she said, her voice brittle. “We still have a long way to go”
As we set off, separated by the ever present chasm, our usual easy camaraderie was gone, replaced by a thick, awkward tension. Dani tried to catch my eye a few times, but I found myself focusing on my gear. Griff seemed utterly unaffected, honing his axe blade as he walked with long, steady strokes.
The chasm finally began to peter off, and we eventually reunited as a party around midday, with Dani approaching me cautiously while Kyra and Griff hung. But before we even had the opportunity to talk, we were immediately beset by a cacophony of howls.
“Demon wolves,” Griff muttered, as he automatically shifted to take point, while Kyra flitted upwards for higher ground. “Hopefully just one pack, or we’ll be in trouble.”
The attack came not in a pack, but in a coordinated wave from three sides. They were larger than wargs, their fur matted with grave-dirt and ichor, eyes burning with empty green flame. A dozen of them on each side; my heart sank as I contemplated our poor odds, praying silently that we will buy enough time for Dani to release her magic.
Kyra’s flurry of arrows unerringly hit each wolf in the eye, staggering and slowing down the wolves charging from the front. Griff met the wave on the left with a charge of his own, his battle cry taunting and drawing their attention as he swung his axe in a blur of steel. I held the right, dancing between the wolves, my sword deflecting snapping jaws, the impacts shuddering up my arm.
And then, to my surprise, it was all over. In a blinding flash of light, a shockwave of magic rippled out from Dani in the centre, disintegrating all the wolves in one fell swoop, our weapons swinging emptily through the space that the wolves previously occupied.
It had been the most devastatingly efficient display of her power I’d ever seen. And it was fueled by Griff’s passion, not mine.
Kyra nocked another arrow, though there were no targets left. Her hands were shaking. She was staring at Dani with the same horrified fascination she’d had last night. I followed her gaze.
Dani finally looked at me. Her expression was triumphant, flushed with victory and power, accompanied by a defiant challenge. See? This is what it takes. This is what works.
Griff kicked at the dust of the disintegrated enemies. “Tidy,” he said to Dani, as if commenting on a well-stacked woodpile.
“We need to move quicker now,” was all Dani said, turning away from all of us. “He will know where we are now.”
As we trudged onward, Kyra fell into step beside me. She didn’t speak for a long time. Then, her voice so low only I could hear it, she whispered, “What if Dani keeps asking my husband to… recharge her from now on? “
I had no answer. Ahead, Dani walked close beside Griff, their arms almost touching. He said something, and she laughed—a real, unburdened sound I hadn’t heard in weeks. The sound carved a fresh crack right down the center of my chest.
Kyra’s hand brushed mine, a fleeting, accidental touch. We both pulled away as if burned. The look we shared wasn’t conspiratorial. It was the shared, helpless glance of two people stranded on the same crumbling shore, watching the same ship sail away without them.