The Unicorn And Her Mysterious Mate

Free

Chaos POV

I felt my grip tighten on the tree I was standing against as I watched Rook make Skye hold Talon's hand. It took every ounce of self-control not to reveal the depth of my feelings for her. Then, Rook walked out of the tent with her clothes, and my anger surged. Thankfully, I was far enough away that they couldn't hear the tree cracking under my grip as I fought the urge to attack him. I knew he would use Skye against me if he discovered I was protecting her, and vice versa.

Standing outside, guarding the campsite, my mind was consumed by thoughts of Skye. She had sensed and accepted me, even when I was nothing more than a slave and not her kind. I wished I could have stayed in that cave with her. I had held back from talking too much or getting too close, and now I regretted it. Part of me believed that might have been the only moment I could have had with my mate. Though she claimed she would free me, I didn't want her to put herself in danger.

But then, to my surprise, she snuck out of Rook's tent in the cold, dressed only in her undergarments, and held up the device controlling me. She held my freedom, giving me the means to protect her. I watched as she grabbed her bag and started running. I followed suit until we reached a safe distance. She placed her bag down and began rummaging through it, kneeling on the ground. I knelt beside her and took her bag, noticing her trembling hand. "Touching Talon, what did it do to you?" I asked softly.

"It made me feel drunk, and it hasn't worn off," she mumbled, taking a deep breath as if speaking coherently was a struggle. I pulled out one of her shirts and pants from her bag. The shirt was oversized and smelled like wolves. "Thanks," she whispered as she took them and put them on. As she pulled the shirt over her head, she did it slowly, savoring the scent. Then, she stood up and dressed in the pants. I wanted to ask who the shirt really belonged to, if it was someone she had been with, but I knew we had to keep going.

I observed intently as she scanned her surroundings, her eyes darting from one point to another. The faint rustle of leaves filled the air as she whispered, "Sometimes it's best to stay closer to the enemy." "We should be careful, this area will only take about an hour for them." I cautioned her.

She gestured towards a cluster of towering trees with lush foliage and prominent branches. "We'll hide there to rest," she declared, grabbing her bag and making her way towards the area. I followed suit and observed as she pressed her hand against the ground, her face contorted with concentration. Vines began to materialize, forming a protective barrier around us, but I could sense the toll it took on her.

She rummaged through her backpack, retrieving a flashlight, and flicked it on. Her gaze locked onto the device controlling me. "How do I remove it?" she inquired. "There's a symbol on the back. Just hold the device against it and command it to release," I explained, recollecting my own futile attempts to free myself in the past, which had resulted in damage to my neck. They had temporarily removed the collar for treatment, only to reattach it later.

She stood up and ordered, "Sit," softly her eyes fixed on me. I complied, knowing that I had no other choice. She held the device, unaware that any command she gave me had to be obeyed to avoid excruciating pain. Positioning herself behind me with the flashlight, I felt pressure on my neck as she followed my instructions, causing the collar to unlatch for the first time in who knows how many years.

"Can they still track you with this?" she inquired, concern etched on her face. "Hand me the device," I requested, and she obliged. I crushed it in my hand, asserting, "Now they can't." She hesitated before placing the collar on the ground, likely appalled by the unsightly marks on my neck. Retrieving a peculiar jar from her bag, she instructed, "Stay still." Opening it, she applied its contents to my skin with her finger. The sensation was soothing, yet I could sense that it caused her pain. I instinctively pulled away.

"The collar punctured your neck," she whispered. "That's how they controlled me, ensuring that the pain could bring me to my knees if necessary," I explained. "Something like that should never exist. You don't heal normally, and I'm not in a state to heal you right now. Please, let me apply this. It will protect against infection," she pleaded. "Touching me is hurting you, so let me do it instead," I insisted, extending my hand. She handed me the jar and moved away. Once finished, I placed it back in her bag. Exhausted, she leaned against a tree, finding peace in its sturdy presence.

"Thank you," I said, the words escaping my lips in a soft whisper. She nodded in response, her silence filling the air with a gentle tension. Our eyes met for a fleeting moment, an unspoken connection forming before she broke away, avoiding further contact. I understood her hesitation; after all, truly knowing someone takes time.

"It's my brother's shirt," she suddenly spoke, catching me off guard. "They packed some of their clothing for me, so I wouldn't feel homesick during my long absence. I know it may sound strange, but they each wore it for a day, and I haven't washed it to preserve their scent. As for the hoodie, it belonged to my father."

"I can read thoughts when I make direct eye contact with someone. That's why I avoid it most of the time," she revealed, shedding light on the reasons behind her guarded demeanor. It dawned on me then that she must have heard my thoughts about her, amplifying my sense of vulnerability.

"Your brothers, are they werewolves?" I asked, more of a statement than a question. She nodded, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and affection. "They're hybrids, actually. A mix of vampire, direwolf, phoenix, dragon, and fae," she explained, leaving me utterly astonished. And here I was, just a simple Lycan. “And you Really are a unicorn?” I asked.

"Yes, I may be the last of my kind. My parents adopted me, and while my adoptive mother knew of a few other unicorns outside of our realm, they were not pure unicorns. My adoptive mother is the Ice Dragon Queen," she revealed. I had heard of her mother, a figure who had involvement in the demise of the original great fae king. The desire to learn more about her surged within me, but I recognized her exhaustion.

"Rest now. We'll need our strength to continue this journey and avoid any potential dangers," I reassured her gently. “Thanks for staying with me, I know you don't have to since you're free now, so I really appreciate it.” She whispered, her words carried a sting. I had told her she wasn't a burden, yet I couldn't shake the fear that she might believe otherwise. "You've only pushed her away," Blade growled from within, echoing my own doubts.

Standing up, I approached her and then sat back down, close enough to feel her presence. I glanced at her hand, remembering the roughness of my previous actions in the cave. I had already hurt her, and yet she had still set me free. Was she truly willing to accept me, as she had claimed? Though her words held sincerity, it was hard to believe that happiness could be within reach once more.

"May I hold your hand?" I asked, my voice filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. I watched as she took a deep breath, her nod granting permission. As our hands touched, a calmness settled over me, soothing the restlessness within my lycan.

I studied her intently, observing every subtle reaction to understand whether my touch brought her pleasure or pain. For a fleeting moment, she closed her eyes, and I felt a gentle warmth enveloping me, as if a soothing calmness was flowing through my veins. It was her power, her ability to calm me.

"Better," she whispered with a small smile, surprising me as she released my hand. Instead, she leaned against me, resting her head on my chest. She was different from what I had expected. I thought she might need time to feel comfortable, but she was the one who initiated the kiss and even attempted conversation with me at first. She acted boldly on her desires without hesitation.

I adjusted my position to provide a more comfortable space for her to lie against me. In that moment, I longed to mark her, to let her know that I desired her as much as she desired me. However, I couldn't. Although I possessed the ability to communicate with my lycan and possess some strength, the inability to shift also meant I couldn't mark her. Nonetheless, I was determined to use all my power to support and protect her on this journey. She was my reason to fight again, my reason to live.

"Your lycan purrs like a kitten, it's cute," she whispered. "You can hear him," I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Yes, since you're touching me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. I hadn't even realized that my hand was pressed against her smooth, warm skin. As I started to move it, she gently pleaded, "Don't, unless it's what you want. Your touch is comforting and soothing now that you're calm. It's nice to hear your lycan too. Your touch doesn't hurt me like others." Her words were soft and tender, resonating in the stillness of the moment.

I hesitated but kept my hand on her, feeling a newfound sense of warmth and connection. My lycan had never purred like this before, and although my initial instinct was to tell him to stop, her admission that she enjoyed it changed everything. "Sleep well, Skye. I'll keep watch," I assured her, my voice filled with a mixture of protectiveness and tenderness. "We are well hidden. You should sleep too. If you can't like this, I'll move," she offered, her concern evident. "No, don't," I quickly replied, not wanting her to break this intimate connection just yet. "I will get some sleep as well," I promised, closing my eyes and allowing a sense of peace to wash over me, even in our current perilous situation.