The problem with beanstalk travel was that you were never totally sure which area you were going to land.
Of course, the advantage was that it got you everywhere faster. The majority of the magical world's portals were in Faerie, and the one way for a mortal to break in was via beanstalk.
She'd always considered safety over-rated anyway.
Ren paused for a second, triple-checking the map. If she didn't time this just right, she was going to end up in the Swampland of Faerie. And more importantly, she'd be forced to traverse that stupid ridge since it was the only safe passage through.
The ridge where she'd stolen a certain elf's clothes. A smile escaped her control. That had taught him to point an arrow at her.
She may not be a wolf, but she was a predator shifter damn it. Foxes just tended to be sneakier in their dominance games.
And her mate's, at the time courting partner, response had been particularly gratifying.
Still, her hand crept up across her neck rubbing at the tension. The same elf had recently expanded his fiefdom, and it was becoming near impossible to use beanstalk transportation and avoid him.
Something rustled, and she crouched for a second getting ready to battle- only to be confronted by a squirrel.
It glanced at her and then resumed its nut gathering.
Oh yeah, she sure was the ultimate predator.
Ren thrust the map back into her pocket before making her decision. She needed to get out of here before an Academy agent found her. And getting out of here meant using beanstalks.
Absentmindedly, Ren dipped her hand into her pant pocket to let the deck's magic slide over her fingers.
The charge produced a small sigh of pleasure from the woman before she yanked her fingers away. Alice would deal with the card's price for its power not Ren.
After all, Alice was Fae. Ren, at only 27 years of age may have looked older, but Alice outstripped her by at least 200 years of age. Despite the fact that the woman looked 20 years old.
Ren shivered. Alice, in some ways, was just as scary as Snow. No matter how fragile looking that woman's, frankly both women's, packaging was.
Nope, Ren was just here to help to retrieve the artifact. After all, the Academy wasn't using the cards. It, or maybe she should say Snow, just had control issues about a non-agents owning any relic of power.
Within some reason, of course.
Sometimes, objects of power ended up controlling their wielders instead of the reverse being true. Ren had seen the aftermath during the Notre Dame Fiasco. It had been a real drag to clean up.
You know, when Ren had still worked for the Academy.
Reaching into her pocket, Ren pulled out a smooth bean. A breed made by Jack the Giant Slayer himself. Dude was totally insane traveling the stalks without a shield. But he'd been a genius botanist.
Gently, she manipulated the dirt, so it was now covering the seed. And she spat on it. The saliva causing the brown mixture to become muddy. Activating her shield charm, she stepped onto the bean just as it started to spring upwards.
She couldn't help but laugh. God, the rush, the wind, the magic. She flung her hands out wide letting the wind whip her hair and magic thrum against her skin. As she landed, a languid smile spread across her face.
It was almost as good as sex.
Of course, the thought since she was such a pervert, seemed to conjure her next obstacle. She felt a ghost hand brush against her vagina, and Ren lost focus.
Shit. He was close.
And if he was close, that meant he was in Faerie. Double shit.
Her mating bond pulsed to life. She'd forgotten the null charms, the thing preventing him from tracking her, didn't work here. Triple shit.
And while he'd be able to transform, she needed her human form to carry the cards. Carrying them in her mouth wasn't an option, the likelihood her fox teeth would tear through the magic dampening case was too high.
She scowled at the thought- this form's limits sucked sometimes.
Turning her senses outward, she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. Bloody hell,
but it was distracting.
Her vagina was beating like a speaker at a night club in Cabo, and her mate was still several miles off. Why had she gone so long without him?
As if in answer, phantom hands began to trace her sides. Ren groaned at the caress as her legs began to wobble.
Sometimes, her mate's mental abilities were terrifying.
Without conscious thought, one of her hands dipped between her legs. And she flicked a fingernail across her clit and whimpered before snatching it out from under her clothing.
She really wished she could afford to stop and play with him.
The sensation vanished from her sides and manifested in her foot. She felt the phantom hands cup the sides and begin to rub and squeeze the foot in a seemingly random pattern.
Everything happening was only in her mind, but that was the problem with mental abilities. The effect was never just one's mind.
As if on cue, her nipples hardened and rubbed against her bra at the stimulation.
The tingle in her vagina was also becoming more pronounced particularly since the tightness of her pants was causing her underwear to lightly grind against her clit.
Ren scowled at that. Her own clothes were against her.
A mouth nibbled at her ankle pressing messy, wet kisses to the tanned flesh. And for a second, Ren wanted to fall to her knees and lay there until her mate arrived.
Damn, her promise to Alice. Ren needed this.
She needed to get fucked.
Her arms balled into fists at her sides as kisses changed to the tiny nips her mate favored. Her will to struggle was slowly dissipating.
After all, Rena wasn't exactly opposed to his touches. If she had been, the mating bond would have protected her. She'd seen it happen before in really rare cases.
Mating bonds could only be created through consensual emotions and desires. If one party began to have ill-intentions, the magic would turn on the offender. A Fae sea princess, the one that was some 800 years old and had decided to become human, had lost her mate that way.
Ren grimaced. The thought was awful enough to stifle for a second the onslaught of mental touches.
You know, until she felt a phantom tongue lick under her knee cap and then trail up to the back of her mid-thigh.
