Defensive Magic
Chapter 39: The Devil’s Deep

WINTER TERM - February 1st (Continued)

The oysters came first, quickly followed up by the chowder adorned with a sprig of parsley, served in a floral bouillon cup. Then, drinks - for Aries, a hot toddy thick with honey, for me, red wine, a little sweeter than I’d have liked, but I wasn’t complaining.

Aries dug into the chowder first. “You have to try this, Zeph.”

It was a heavy cream soup with shellfish. I absolutely did not need to try it. Aries licked the corner of his mouth. He’d been hungry, sure, he was always hungry, but I think too he also just loved food.

I was probably a shit boyfriend for just realizing this now. We never went out to eat. And it was cute how excited he got over it. He searched the bowl for something cockle-shaped, triumphant when he found it, and reached across the table to force his spoon into my mouth. It was eye roll worthy, but sweet.

Or it was until my lips burned. I reared back at the sudden unexpected rash of pain. It was saltwater, cream, and blood. An ocean on fire. I tore away from Aries and quickly spat what I could into the linen napkin across my lap.

“There’s something wrong with that soup, Aries.”

Aries cocked his head. He tried another spoonful of it. Same spoon. He let it linger against his tongue. “Tastes fine to me.”

There was still blood in my mouth. I tried to chase it down with wine, only to find I liked those combined flavors even less.

“Is it laced with something? What’s in it?” I was leaning forward, meant to grab the bouillon cup, but before I could I’d set my hand on the table for balance, only to brush my hand against the tines of a dinner fork. The pain erupted all over again. The wolf in my head howled. This time, not my lips. My hand. Fuck.

I crashed against the back of my chair, knocked the table with my knee. Everything jumped, only Aries’s hot toddy splashed a little.

“Oh, the silverware, Zeph. I didn’t even think.”

I growled. I had enough wolfsbane in my system not to worry about shifting tonight, but the silver had woken the wolf anyway, we were both grumbling through its hurt.

Aries had already signalled to our waiter. Me and the wolf were ruining this. Because of course we were.

“My boyfriend’s got a terrible silver allergy,” he said. “Any chance you have something else he could use for dinner?”

The waiter narrowed his eyes like the request at all was ridiculous, or maybe he just thought we were. I wasn’t about to read into it.

“It’s fine, really, baby. I don’t need to eat tonight,” I groaned.

“And miss the chance to feed you by hand? Don’t be ridiculous,” Aries said, a little too charming. He grabbed my fingers on the table, squeezed. Only to falter immediately. “Did you, uh—did you just call me baby?”

I’d been trying something. Already hated it. Aries could hate it too. “I might have. It was either that or sunshine. You don’t like it?”

The hint of a smile pulled at his lips, though his gaze was focused, locked onto my own. Okay. So he didn’t hate it.

“No… umm. Wanna call me that again?” He nudged his foot up the side of my calf under the table.

Another perfectly awkward moment for the waiter to return with a mismatched fork and knife from the kitchen. “Steel,” he said. He hesitated a moment too long. He took away the three forks, the spoon, the butter knife, all laid out in front of me. The replacement was only a single fork and a kitchen knife with a wooden handle. “Rarer still we ever have the need for them.”

“Thank you,” Aries said. An obvious dismissal.

Aries turned his attention back on the oysters. He fixed one up with a spoonful of vinegar and a pinch of lemon. “So what do I call you then? Zephie?”

I choked on the bad aftertaste of chowder and blood. “Do you want me to punch you?” I asked.

“Okay, not Zephie. Alright. Hot stuff? Cutie pie?”

I created a monster.

He attempted a few more — angel (gross), snookums (never again), sweet cheeks (we’re just going to forget you just said that). He passed me an oyster. I wasn’t about to tell him I hated these slimy things. Especially when tonight, maybe I didn’t.

I slurped down whatever it was he gave me right off the shell, while he watched a little transfixed. “This one’s a little sweet,” he said about one.

I could only smirk as though that meant something. Still tasted like briny goo. But I’d have eaten two dozen of them just to keep him looking at me like that.

When dinner came, I let him steal bites off my plate. I could have let him eat the whole dish. Sure, he liked food, but maybe I also liked watching him eat. It was one place he wasn’t shy. Obviously he’d never choked down stale crackers like a secret. It wasn’t in him. Watching him, I could forget that was even in me.

Instead he shut his eyes between bites of the duck, let the sea bass melt on his tongue, chased them down with slow sips of his drink—honey on his lips smeared the rim of the glass. It wasn’t sexy per se, but charming all the same.

We didn’t talk about the prophecy. Aries told me about how Whisper’s been napping on his feet in the library. I told him about the rest of the shape-changing spells I’d managed. All five had sucked but I’d managed.

“I thought the conjured wolf tail was pretty cute,” Aries teased.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

It was the kind of comment I didn’t know what to do with, a little hot and a little horrifying in equal measure. Worse that I think he genuinely meant it.

“I mean on you,” he muttered. The clarification didn’t help.

Though that particular train of thought was interrupted by dessert— the Devil’s Deep. It was as ridiculous as described: chocolate, heart-shaped, adorned with caramel and white meringue roses. Though the promised two spoons was dropped to just one. My steel fork must have been cleared with the dinner plates. I hadn’t meant to let that happen but it’s happened regardless.

Of course, Aries notices about as quickly as I did. “Wait, Zeph-“

I didn’t care about dessert. “You get started,” I said, raising my wine glass.

Aries groaned, but still plunged his spoon into the middle of the cake. It cracked apart, still steaming, caramel oozing, a dribble of the plum liquor pooling on the plate.

“It’s weird with you watching me eat,” he said. I don’t think he realized I’d been watching him eat all night.

“I’ll get a new fork. I’m not even that hungry anyway.” I let my gaze narrow on him until he finally spooned a caramel drenched corner of the cake into his mouth.

He moaned. I bit my lip to keep from smirking. He loved dinner, sure, but we both knew he lived for dessert. He quickly took another bite, caramel gleamed on his lips.

I took a sip of my wine - there was almost nothing left but I needed something to do with my hands. Of course he’d picked something rich, and sticky. Something he’d have to savor, something with sugar that lingered.

And then, he took the next spoonful between his fingers and held it up to me.

“You weren’t kidding about feeding me by hand,” I muttered. I knew we were disgusting. Other people could see us. I felt two sets of eyes from the next table, but mouthed at his fingers anyway. He’d started it with the moaning afterall. And maybe I wanted his fingers between my teeth. Spice chocolate, rich, wet, caramel that I had to suck from his fingers.

“You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said.

It was too much. Worse when Aries did it again.

The waiter brought a new steel fork from the kitchen before we had the chance to ask for it.

I don’t remember if we even finished eating the cake. I got the check. I was eager to get us out of there, to somewhere a bit more private. Had I been thinking, I’d have booked us a room.

Aries was clearly thinking the same—when we stepped out into the winter cold, suddenly in the clear, Aries shoved me back against the wall of the Larkspur and kissed me. He still tasted like spiced chocolate and caramel. The heat of his body up against my own, fending off the cool night air. I rolled my hips into him. Caught him off guard enough to make him gasp.

Then, I heard a knock beside my head. Aries drew back, pulled me with him.

Turns out we hadn’t been kissing up against a wall but the Sea Parlour’s front window…

I winced, raised a hand in a halfhearted apology. The host behind the glass was glaring. “So, my room?” I asked, already stepping back. Better to change the subject.

Aries winked and shadow stepped away.

We took Whisper out. Watched my hellhound piss a mix of smoke and urine up the side of the dormitory’s stone wall. We were both a little mortified about The Sea Parlour. We didn’t need to talk about it. I forgot about it as soon as we got back to my room.

Aries raised a hand to unfasten his cloak. I grabbed his hand. “Wait, baby,” I said. “Keep it on.”

Aries sat down on my bed, still dressed. The pale blue cloak with white fur trim, the military jacket, the gold braiding, the brass buttons. He noticed my staring.

“So this does it for you?”

I could feel my face growing hot. “Maybe I want a little bit of fairytale tonight.”

He flopped back onto the bed. “Fine, have your prince, but next time I want the wolf.”

I choked. “You want— what?”

He rolled to his side. “You heard me. The tail. The growling. The whole… thing.” He gestures vaguely. “You know.”

My mouth ran dry. I climbed onto the bed. Gods help us both. “I don’t think I do.”

“Maybe some teeth?”

Absolutely ridiculous.

“So, you wanna show me what you’d do to your prince?”

I snickered. Of course I would.

I pressed him into the mattress, cloak fanned out like a royal banner. The buttons of his jacket were cool to the touch–I wanted them against my skin, so I stripped down. Layer by layer. Aries lay back, clearly entertained.

If he wanted me feral, I could be a little feral. If we were going to roleplay some fucked up fairytale where the monster gets the prince, might as well act the part. Pretend the happy ending was still coming for us anyway.

I kissed him, hard. He still tasted like sugar. I kissed him like I’d meant to consume him and tugged his wool pants down his thighs.

The rest was frantic—my hands on him, my hips chasing heat and rhythm. I couldn’t slow down. Didn’t want to. Aries arched his back, with a shudder. He gasped into my mouth. I chased the friction. Faster. Rougher. It was over all too quickly.

I came sucking a bruise into his neck. He went limp, my name still a whimper in his throat. He was too warm. Cloak and jacket sticky with sweat and come. Ruined. Beautiful.

Aries shrugged them off, tossed them on the floor beside the bed. He would still be my prince without the costume anyway.

He rolled toward me, chest bare. “How about love?”

“Hmmm?” I asked, eyelids heavy. I was still holding him. He settled back in. My lips pressed against his forehead. Both of us were still a little damp.

He prodded my hip. “You know, like, Hold me closer, love?”

I froze. It stung more than it should.

“Don’t use that one,” I said.

Aries sighed. “You know I really do love you, right? You can stop acting weird just because I want to admit it.”

“Aries, it’s really not that. It’s not the word.” I kept my arms around him, willing the tension to bleed out. “She used a lot of pet names. And it’s silly, but that was one of them. So, I don’t really care what you want to call me, but please— not that.”

Aries nuzzled deeper into the side of my neck, squirming a little. I could feel him thinking in the dark.

“Okay, wild thing, maybe I just stick to your name awhile?”

I nodded, my cheek resting on his crown. “That’s plenty.”

We were drifting after that—him first, then me. He was snoring before I’d fully shut my eyes. It had been a good night. A good date. He was comfortable, heavy, warm. Nothing else in my life had ever come this easy. It wasn’t the kind of thing I could let go. I had to believe that this was real, that it could last.

I didn’t even notice the witch ball above the bed had turned from clear to black.