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 FAIRY BREEDER 2

A PORTAL HAREM FANTASY

SIMON ARCHER
 FOR MORE GREAT READS!

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 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue

Special Thanks to my Patreon Supporters!

Author’s Note
 1

If you would have asked me two months ago where I saw

myself in the future, I would have probably just shrugged and said
something noncommittal. The truth is, I didn’t see myself doing much
but penning failed manuscripts and slinging comics and fantasy gear
at OtherRealms, except maybe gaming. The last thing I’d played had
been Elden Ring, but who knew if that was still the hot ticket? The
last time I’d been to Earth, I’d been more concerned with grabbing
power tools.
Things had definitely changed for me.
“Logan Anders,” the stunning creature to my left said, her voice
trembling slightly as we hopped over the boundary of the portal. “I
cannot express how glad I am to have you with me.”
“Of course, Kirra,” I said, still getting used to how her name felt in
my mouth. “Happy to help.”
I caught her slight, shy grin as she bit her pouty lips, one of her
two small fangs peeking out as she did. Her sparkling amber eyes
peered up at me from under long, sooty lashes like hypnotic gems.
Her irises were incredibly large and bright, accentuated even more
by their almond cat-like shape. The skin surrounding one eye was
slightly darker in a roughly circular shape, mimicking the markings
cats had on their fur. Her tail twitched behind her nervously just as
her two fluffy white ears periscoped this way and that, and I found
the strange sight extremely endearing. Kirra was incredibly sexy
thanks to her feline grace and features, but it made her sort of
adorable, too.
Accepting a catgirl fairy had been a heck of a lot easier than
accepting a woodland fae, though I suppose once you’ve been
exposed to one breed of gorgeous fairy, a second one isn’t all that
shocking. The first time I’d seen Posey, her iridescent wings had
been quite a shocker, practically leaving me speechless, but I took
Kirra’s in stride. Not that they were any less breathtaking than
Posey’s visually, though her wings differed from Posey’s when it
came to coloring, with a darker cast that created patterns along her
shimmering wings like that of a Monarch butterfly. Rather than the
woodland fae’s silvery color, Kirra’s were a glittering gold, which
offset her pale skin, white fur, and ebony hair nicely.
Behind us, the portal gave a snapping pop, and I turned back to
see Posey, Lark, and Cinder’s worried faces peering through, the
woodland realm shining behind them like a perfect oval window. The
edges of the portal crackled with Posey’s portal magic, and I winced
a few times as dollops of sizzling energy dripped here and there
along the ground nearby. Could magic start a forest fire?
“You’ve got the scrying mirrors, right?” Lark said, her dark brows
pinched with worry.
I patted the strap of my heavily laden backpack. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll
call you every night and twice on Sundays.”
Beside her, Cinder rolled her eyes, and her hands settled atop
her small but growing stomach. “We aren’t that codependent.”
“You taught us well,” Posey shrugged with a little tinkling laugh,
then shot a hopeful look at Kirra. “I guess it’s their turn now.”
The portal wavered a bit due to her quick distraction, the sides
shrinking in by a few inches, but Posey quickly refocused and held it
open, the sizzling sides widening once more to give me one last look
at the realm.
“They grow up so fast,” I said, wiping away a fake tear. All three
of my fairies groaned good-naturedly at the terrible joke.
“Watch what you say about us growing,” Lark said, pursing her
lips slyly. “It’s not nice to point out a pregnant woman’s size.”
 “Umm, as much as I love you all, can we speed up this second
round of goodbyes?” Posey said, a bit of sweat dotting her milky
white brow. “I can’t hold the portal open forever.”
She was right. We’d already said one round of goodbyes when
both of my feet were firmly planted on woodland soil. Now we were
just dragging it out, but I had to admit it was harder than I thought it
would be to say goodbye to my three fae, especially in their…
delicate conditions. But duty called, and I wasn’t going to ignore it.
“Oh! Gods! I almost forgot!” Lark yelled, snatching a glowing vial
from the pouch attached to her waist. She quickly tossed it to me
through the portal, which was once more beginning to waver and
shrink as Posey’s concentration and magical strength began to
stretch itself too thin.
“I was saving it as a present for you… it had to brew for a few
weeks, and Ostara was coming up, but I guess now will have to do,”
she said hurriedly.
Catching the vial deftly, I looked down at it briefly, catching its
gorgeous crystalline, fluted shape and the glowing contents inside. It
reminded me a bit of the Star of Elendil in Lord of the Rings, though I
was confident enough to say that Lark was way hotter than
Galadriel. Look, I know that goes against my religion as a Tolkien
enthusiast, but it’s true. She was also real, so there was that.
“A little reward for your troubles!” Lark called out, and I looked up
at her with a questioning tilt of my head.
She cupped her hands around her mouth, trying to be heard
against the portal’s sizzling, which was steadily growing louder,
practically humming through the air. If I had fillings, I imagined they
would rattle.
“Logan, you are handsome, brave, virile, and strong. Posey didn’t
just pick you randomly. There is a light within you that makes you
more than any human we’ve ever encountered. Consider this a…
magnifier,” she explained.
“So I’m leveling up?” I grinned, holding the vial up triumphantly.
Lark looked confused for a moment, then shrugged, obviously not
getting the reference. “Sure! Be safe! I love you! We love-”
 Suddenly, with one last snapping pop, the portal winked out of
existence entirely, cutting me off from my first three fae mates and
firmly stranding me here with Kirra and her tribe. Posey had done
her best to hold it open for as long as she could.
Well, as I said… duty called.
Turns out that more than one fairy race needed saving, and
saving encompassed all manner of things.
Namely, breeding.
Look, I know how it sounds, but the woodland fae had actually
ended up needing even more than just a way to repopulate their
race. Their infrastructure was failing, the realm was full of outside
threats, and they were under the thumb of some very unsavory
males. Fae men of all kinds had failed their women, and it had fallen
on me to fix that for them, a mantle which I took up pretty willingly.
Kirra had come to the woodland realm as an ambassador after
hearing of my success with the woodland fae, and the tale she’d
spun had been pretty compelling. Who was I to refuse a woman, and
a beautiful one at that?
I looked down at the vial in my hand once more. A magnifier,
huh? I mean, it sounded like a level up to me. I uncorked it and
smelled the contents, which smelled somehow both like a rich,
astringent mint and a warm, decadent caramel.
“Do you need a moment?” Kirra asked, nodding towards the
glowing vial. “Our village is through this patch of jungle. Take all the
time you need.”
I chewed my lip as I peered down for a few more moments,
practically feeling the thrum of power through the decorative, fluted
glass. I guess there was no time like the present.
“Just a sec,” I said, shooting Kirra a nod, then whispered to
myself. “Bottoms up.”
As soon as the liquid hit my mouth, my entire body lit up, every
nerve ending on high alert as the magic soaked into my tongue and
ran down my throat. I flashed suddenly with hot and cold, sweat
popping out of every pore. I staggered briefly, catching myself on
one knee, and when Kirra moved to help me, I held one hand up. I
could tell I would be fine, and the experience wasn’t exactly painful…
just intense.
As it finally began to ebb away, I stared down at the dirt and
leaves strewn around me. I had decent vision before, but now
everything was in stunning high definition clarity. Every vein in a leaf,
every speck of dirt, seemed to make itself known to me, and I zeroed
in on an ant scuttling near my hand. It was as if a whole new world of
vision had been opened up before me. Similarly, I thought I could
hear better as well, and the surrounding sounds seemed to come to
life in rich textures. I clenched my fist, feeling the strength in my
hands, then bounded to my feet and did a few jumping jacks with a
whoop. I felt incredible!
My whoop startled Kirra, but I shot her a grin. “Sorry, I’m alright,
really! Better than alright, in fact.”
You are handsome, brave, virile, and strong. Those had been
Lark’s words. As flattering as they were, I knew I was even more
now. I wasn’t exactly an Avenger, but I could tell my strength, energy,
stamina, and everything else had increased quite a bit. I wished I
could kiss that dark-haired fairy right about now, but I’d have to wait
to repay my gratitude.
I raked a hand through my hair and hefted my pack on my
shoulders, which felt like it weighed nothing now. “I’m ready.”
“You seem ready,” Kirra said, smiling shyly at her own attempt at
a friendly remark. “I can’t wait for you to see my village. I-I can’t wait
for everyone to meet you. Your fae were right. You are different.”
I wasn’t the kind of guy who basked in praise, so I just shot her
another smile, even more genuine than the last. I hoped she could
tell I was excited too, though maybe not as excited as she was. The
chance to meet a new species of fae and navigate a new realm was
both daunting and thrilling, and even though I already felt a pang of
homesickness for the woodland realm, I couldn’t wait to start this
new journey.
After a few steps forward into that aforementioned journey, a fat
mosquito went buzzing by, the sound making my skin itch with a
Pavlovian response. Kirra’s tail batted it away impatiently. I watched
for a moment as a single bead of sweat ran down the delicate arch
of her lower back. My own skin was already clammy with sweat
thanks to the humid, hot jungle, though I’m sure I looked a hell of a
lot less sexy than she did.
Kirra glistened, whereas I probably looked like Dom DeLuise after
a few minutes on a StairMaster. The woodland realm had been
practically climate controlled to be the perfect temperature, forever a
lovely spring day, but this new realm had heat like a Louisiana
summer, the kind that settled into every nook and cranny in your
body with the suffocating all-encompassing coverage of a fifty-pound
woolen blanket.
Another mosquito buzzed nearby, and I tracked it as it landed on
a massive, glossy leaf akin to a paddle-like monstera. Now that I
wasn’t so focused on Kirra, the portal, or the upgrade, I could finally
survey my surroundings.
We were surrounded by lush, verdant jungle. It smelled ancient,
with a clash of bitter and sweet aromas from the nearby vegetation,
old rock, and loamy soil. Massive trees towered over us, reminding
me of old sycamores and redwoods, along with a mix of palm and
other exotic plants. Tropical flowers burst through the unending
ocean of green in bursts of color, and the sound of birds and bugs
was almost constant. Somewhere far away, a faint roar sounded,
and a patch of dark birds scattered into the sky above us like
buckshot.
I quirked a brow at the catgirl. “Anything we should worry about in
this patch of jungle?”
She shook her head, though I noticed the unsheathed claws on
her fingertips. “It is not a long trek. I could not portal directly to the
village, but this is fairly close. We don’t portal where we live for fear
that something could follow us through. The village is sanctuary.”
“Right, don’t shit where you eat.” I nodded, stepping forward
along the narrow, trampled-down path. I meant to just sort of mutter
it to myself, but Kirra’s expert hearing pricked up her ears.
“No… we are cats. Cats are notoriously hygienic creatures. We
do not shit where we eat,” she said, her pretty face pinched with
confusion. “Do humans… sh-shit in their sustenance?”
 A tiny war played across her features, and I could tell she was
both genuinely curious about human matters, simultaneously
grossed out, and too polite to say much else either way. It struck me
as adorable, and I bit back a laugh and shook my head.
“It’s an expression,” I explained gently. “Albeit not a great one.”
“I’m afraid some of your Earth sayings might be lost on us,” she
said, biting her lip shyly and tucking some hair behind her ear. “But
we will learn. After all, old cats can learn new tricks.”
“Oh, see?” I grinned. “You’re already doing fine. That’s sort of an
expression right there.”
“No,” she said, setting a quick pace beside me. “Cats are skilled
learners for many decades.”
I opened my mouth, then thought better of it, instead opting to
snicker and shake my head. This was going to be fun.
The trail was narrow through the jungle, and the large plants that
crept in on us claustrophobically took it over in several spots. I had
brought my machete from the woodland realm with me, and
occasionally I moved to unsheathe it, but the large fronds could be
easily pushed back as we walked.
Within minutes, my tee shirt was soaked from the dew and jungle
moisture that dripped from the leaves like so many jewels,
smattering us every few steps like rain. It felt amazing compared to
the heavy, damp heat in the air.
“It’s not much further,” Kirra said, flashing me a fanged smile as
we walked on for another ten minutes.
A long, mournful caw rang out as soon as she spoke, followed by
wings fluttering. She held up a hand to halt us as a massive electric
green bird flew down clumsily and landed with a thump on the path
ahead of us. It looked like a cross between a fat, plump owl and a
miniature cassowary, with large azure eyes that took up most of its
round face and a ridged, bone-like formation atop its head. Its head
was round and wide, sitting atop a thin neck that looked too skinny
even to hold the damn thing up, and as we looked at the bird, its
head constantly swiveled on the long stalk. The shape of its body
was also round and fluffed with green feathers but once again sat
atop two skinny legs that seemed to defy physics. All in all, it stood
maybe about three feet tall.
And it thoroughly creeped me out. I’m not exactly a bird person,
and if New York pigeons were the bane of my existence, you could
imagine how bad this thing gave me the ick. I definitely wasn’t in
Kansas anymore.
At least, instead of Toto, I had a cute cat by my side.
“That is a dwarf ulver,” Kirra explained quietly, stepping gracefully
around the bird, which tilted its head completely upside down to view
her. “The realm hosts only ten at a time. When one is born, another
must die.”
Ulver. An ugly name for an ugly animal.
“Only ten, huh?” I grimaced. “What a shame. Did you say, uh,
dwarf, by the way?”
“Yes,” she nodded emphatically. “The jungle hosts only two giant
ulvers, but they are often too rare to be seen.” She beckoned with
her clawed hand. “Come, this way! It’s harmless.”
Gripping the handle of my machete, I sidestepped the strange
green bird warily, giving it the hairy eyeball the whole time. Kirra
might have said it was harmless, but the damn thing gave off a vibe
more threatening than the fucking Duolingo mascot.
Which was really saying something.
The dwarf ulver swiveled its long, noodle-like neck backward and
watched us walk down the barely there path, even though the rest of
its body stayed facing forward. Shooting it one last look, I trotted to
match back up with Kirra’s loping strides.
“Speaking of what’s harmless and what’s not, tell me a little more
about life here. Natural predators? Defenses? Before we left the
woodland realm, you talked about your males. Are they really no
longer a threat here?” I said, hoping to get Kirra to open up a little
more. She’d been so quiet on our walk so far, and I had so much I
wanted to know.
“Our males are… no longer a problem,” she replied, her voice
stilted. “What I explained back in the woodland realm is very much
true. Our men didn’t make a power grab against the females, unlike
the woodland males, but power was their downfall. They are… were
much more violent creatures. Are you familiar with pride politics?”
“As in lions?” I asked. “I know one male lion will have many
females?”
Kirra chewed on her lip and nodded. “Yes, much like that. Male
cat fae may bond with more than one female, though, once bonded,
we females prefer one male. It is not always for life, especially if the
male dies tragically, but we are very loyal to our mates. When there
were many females, it was not such a problem, but as the men died
over territorial disputes and wars with other species… our population
became smaller. Rival males began to kill each other to stay ahead
in the pack… and then… well, they started to kill even the young
boys, too.” She shuddered at the memory. “The few boys we have
left were thankfully still in their mothers’ wombs when the men died
out. Otherwise…”
I nodded, not needing her to spell it out. I knew that male cats
from species big and small killed their young if they saw them as a
threat to their rule. I couldn’t imagine.
Kirra cleared her throat and continued. “The young boys now
have shown no such passion for violence. We have vowed to raise
them differently without the presence of their fathers. It will take them
at least fifty years to grow to an appropriate mating age. Still, our
lineage needs fresh blood to thrive, and a specimen like you is just
what we need to strengthen our bloodlines.”
“Besides the in-fighting, there were territory disputes, huh?” I
said, chewing the inside of my cheek with a frown as I looked at the
wall of vegetation around us. “From what? Are there other races
here or…?”
“W-We have predators, yes,” she said, noticeably cagey. “Though
it’s hard to explain. Our men fought here, but they also traveled…”
“Kirra,” I said firmly, stopping in my tracks. “What aren’t you
telling me?”
“Logan,” she said with a sigh. “I promise you will be… safe here.
Please, we need to get to the village.”
Just then, the sound of a branch cracking, followed by the
susurrus sound of something slipping through the vegetation, cut
through our conversation, quieting both of us immediately. Kirra held
up her hand for a moment, and though I was inclined to take charge
here, I didn’t exactly know much about the realm yet. I didn’t want to
go lopping the head off a rare snarfalapod dingbat or whatever the
hell else might be creeping around. It’d be just my luck to behead a
beloved giant hamster in front of my newest paramour, so I rested
my hand on my machete and held still.
Kirra’s fuzzy ears periscoped this way and that, searching for the
source of the sound. She seemed to zero in on something in the
underbrush towards our right, so she walked with softly padded
steps further down the path, beckoning me along as she did. Her tail
twitched hypnotically behind her, steering clear of her iridescent
wings as it tick-tocked back and forth in the shape of a question
mark.
“This way,” she half whispered over her shoulder, and I followed
close behind, my hand now fully gripping the machete on my hip. My
backpack straps rubbed my neck uncomfortably, and my sweat-
dampened skin itched like crazy. Their village must have really been
something special to portal so far out. Either that or catgirls didn’t
have quite the deductive reasoning skills I’d previously expected
them to have.
Yeah, I mean, I’d thought about cat girls before meeting Kirra.
Haven’t we all? Hello, I told you I worked in a comic book shop.
“Kirra, back to the predators?” I hissed, still not thrilled with her
vague answer to my very important question. “How exactly am I
supposed to help you out here if you don’t tell me what I need to
know?”
“Shh,” she said quietly, beckoning me with her tail. “We must
climb over the deadfall.”
The sound of more twigs and branches snapping sounded again,
and both of us hurried our pace around a bend in the path which
ended in the aforementioned deadfall. I’d seen worse hiking in
suburban America hiking trails, so it didn’t look like too much trouble.
It consisted mainly of one massive sycamore on its side, surrounded
by a moat of several smaller crushed trees and branches. If you
looked at it just right, you could see where Kirra and the other
catgirls had snapped off branches here and there to create an easy
enough path to step onto. The sycamore was easily flat enough on
top to stand on.
Just ahead, that same susurrus whisper sounded again, as if
something heavy was being dragged across the jungle floor. Kirra
growled, her ears pricked up in warning. She pressed a finger to her
lips and hopped onto the first smaller tree, approximately four feet
from the ground. From there, she’d easily be able to hop onto the top
of the sycamore, which was maybe only another three feet.
Instead, she froze atop the smaller horizontal tree, and the new
vantage point meant Kirra’s muscular thighs were directly in my line
of sight, very much on display thanks to the skimpy black sarong she
had tied low around her waist. The slit up the one side went all the
way to her hip, and the fabric fell away from the apex of her thighs
dangerously as her leg bent, her clawed feet sinking into the rotten
deadfall to find purchase. Her long black hair also swung, revealing
the curved side of one bare breast before conveniently settling back
down to hide her topless torso. I caught the slight curve of a delicate
patch of fur, and I wondered what she looked like without her hair.
Though her arms and legs were covered in patches of white fur from
wrist to elbow and ankle to knee, her torso was mostly hairless. The
brief glimpse I caught under her hair only enhanced her toned body,
leaving everything else tantalizingly bare. From what the sarong
barely covered, it was clear that trend followed all the way down.
“Want it?” she whispered, one leg now perched higher atop a slim
branch like the Captain Morgan mascot, and I felt heat creep up my
cheeks as I tore my eyes away from her body.
Way to be a creep, Anders.
Thankfully, she was looking off into the middle distance over the
deadfall, her hand outstretched towards me, not noticing at all how I
was ogling her.
“Want it?” she repeated almost silently, wiggling her fingers, and I
finally realized she was offering me a hand up. Clearing my throat
and nodding slightly, I slipped my hand against her soft palm,
allowing her to help me up onto the fallen tree, even though I was
more than capable of doing it myself. Kirra was clearly trying to be
both hospitable and helpful in this realm, and I didn’t want to offend
her by ignoring her outstretched fingers, especially since I’d almost
been caught eyeing her like a twelve-year-old kid with a skin mag.
Or a twenty-two-year-old kid, for that matter.
Together, we stayed perched atop the smaller tree and used the
fallen sycamore for cover as we stared out onto the tail end of the
path. Kirra swore in a guttural but musical tongue as she took in the
sight before us.
It was maybe only five feet tall, but it was thickly built, with
bulging muscles crawling over every inch of it and trap muscles big
enough to negate the thing’s neck completely. They flexed as the
thing took a step and dragged a deer-like carcass behind it,
explaining the whispering sound as the beaten, bloody body scraped
across the dead leaves and detritus on the jungle floor below.
“Torgo,” Kirra hissed, her face wrinkling up with disgust. “I knew I
smelled dog.”
How quaint, the cat hated the dog. It’s a good thing I didn’t bring
Brad here.
“Let me guess,” I whispered. “One of those natural predators I’m
not supposed to worry about?”
Kirra said nothing, just set her jaw forward and nodded, her
amber eyes locked onto its troll-like gait as it clumsily galumphed
across the path with its fresh kill. It seemed to be going in no
particular direction, just crisscrossing back and forth across the
trodden path like it had lost its way. Each time it turned, I scrutinized
its features further.
Its jaw was brutish and square and jutted out at a harsh angle.
The yellowed fangs around its bottom jaw produced a massive
under-bite, overtaking the thing’s black top lip. Slimy, slug-like strings
of drool dripped incessantly from its ajar mouth, and I wondered how
the damn thing could manage to eat with its teeth and jaw structure
as unyielding as they were. Its brow was wrinkled to an almost
Klingon-like valley of folds and crests and jutted out over two
rheumy, bloodshot eyes that barely had any irises or whites to them,
just huge black pupils amidst a small sea of broken vessels. Its black
nose flared in and out as it scented the air through its flat, puggy
snout, and I could tell by the way the beast’s eyes rolled and how
quickly his ears perked up that he smelled us.
Quickly, we crouched further down, not daring to look at the
monster anymore.
“Torgo?” I whispered. “What do we do about it?”
“I cannot have it follow me to the village,” Kirra replied, her lips in
a barely moving, grim line. “And we are so close. Perhaps we can
stay here, hidden. It will eventually tire. They are mindless beasts,
but they will find their way back home by nightfall. It is instinct.”
I looked up at the sky, which was half-hidden by jungle canopy.
What sky I could see still looked bright and blue, so nightfall was way
off. Beside me, Kirra was still frozen in her crouch, and I looked
down in time to see her thigh muscles twitch from the exertion of
holding the pose completely still. My own legs were burning, and I
felt my one knee creak subtly as I shifted as quietly as possible. We
weren’t going to be able to hold out if this idiot was going to bumble
around until then. If our two options were waiting or fighting, I knew
what I’d prefer, but I once again didn’t know this creature or its
strengths well. Hell, I didn’t even know the bounds of my own
improved strength. Testing it out with possibly mortal combat would
be reckless of me. And I didn’t even know how far we were from the
village in case we had to book it. Going in blind wasn’t a smart move,
and Kirra and I couldn’t exactly afford to be chatty right now. Fight.
Run. Wait. The options replayed in my head in a loop as my fingers
gripped my machete once more for comfort.
I needed to decide soon.
Suddenly, Kirra gasped a high-pitched, sharp sound as the soft,
rotten wood her clawed feet were sunk into gave way beneath her
feet, sending her crashing a few feet below into the nest of broken
branches and dead limbs. True to form, she managed to land on all
fours, but all it did was ensure she was fully snatched up by the nest
of twigs and branches. Bits of bark, rock, soil, and dead leaves
scrabbled noisily down the rest of the deadfall like a mini landslide as
Kirra’s body made a symphony of cracks amongst the branches.
A deep, loud bark cut through the tense quiet immediately after
her fall, followed by another.
Then another.
Looked like my decision had been made for me.
It was time to fight.
 2

“Logan!” Kirra cried, doing her best to claw her way out of the
deadfall branches that clung to her hair and fur.
I wished I had time to help her, but it was pretty clear by the way
Cujo was barking he thought we were aiming for his fresh kill. Either
that, or he thought we might make a tastier meal.
Using both hands, I hefted myself quickly atop the sycamore and
popped onto my feet in a defensive stance. The Torgo’s eyes locked
onto mine, his black nostrils widening as he sniffed the air. Fresh
rivulets of drool, as thick as pounds of Vaseline, slopped out of his
jowls as he snapped them towards me threateningly.
Unsheathing the Gator machete, I went for an aerial strike as the
creature lunged towards the tree I was perched on. Thankfully, the
machete’s patented grip stayed in my sweat-slicked hand as I sliced
down, intent on literally stopping the damn thing in its tracks.
My aim was off as the Torgo continued its trajectory towards me
and my feet hit its chest, sending us both tumbling to the ground.
Hey, I was an English major, not a physics major, though luckily, my
hours taking self-defense classes and working out had given me
enough of a skill set to tuck and roll nimbly enough without the use of
my machete arm, and Lark’s potion made my muscles feel well-oiled
and fluid. It wouldn’t have done me any favors if I would have lopped
off my own damn leg.
 As soon as I got to my feet, however, the damn thing came at me
swinging, the stench of it making my eyes water. Its clumsy yet
strong attack knocked the machete from my grip, sending shock
waves down my forearm. I put my hands up fast to protect my face,
and then it wrapped both limbs around my neck. I immediately
countered its deadlock, wrapping my own arms around its thick neck
and employing a large amount of my newfound strength to keep him
in place. The cloying, disgusting smell of wet dog and unwashed fur
filled my nostrils. He moved quickly and managed to catch me with a
painfully hard uppercut to the ribs, and it was clear the real danger
seemed to be letting it get its hands on you.
I wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.
I broke his hold on me as quickly as possible, my bruised ribs
throbbing, then blocked his next strike. The impact made my forearm
shudder with a fresh ache, but I raised my opposite hand and gave
him a fast little love tap to the bridge of his nose.
The blow didn’t even sting the skin on my knuckles, but my new
upgrade meant I heard a nice meaty crunch as his nose caved
inward. His rheumy eyes immediately spilled involuntary tears as
blood spurted out of his ruined nose and over his drooling lips,
mixing with the foam that flecked his mouth and turning it pink. It
stumbled back on its feet with a doggy whine, shaking its head back
and forth like an animal that had accidentally run into a wall. The
movement made me feel sort of bad for it, even if it was going full
rabid Saint Bernard on me. It wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the
shed. It made me reconsider using the machete on it, honestly.
Sure, Kirra had said it was a predator, but chopping it up actually
made me feel a bit bad. The woodland fae often tried to avoid killing
for the sake of killing unless the moment truly called for it, and
something told me this wasn’t exactly the life-threatening monster I’d
originally perceived.
Taking my brief moment of concern to its advantage, the Torgo let
out a throaty growl and attempted to tackle me once more. Its speed
was shocking, able to burst into a full sprint within a matter of feet,
but I deftly avoided its tackle and sidestepped it. The Torgo could
barely keep its momentum in check, and it practically ran into a tree,
trying not to topple over from the unspent kinetic energy.
As it growled and shook its head again, turning around to charge
me once more, I darted to the side impossibly quickly, grabbed my
accidentally discarded machete, and slid it back into its sheath. Dirt
and bits of leaves clung to it, and my hands felt filthy with grit and
grime. I shot a look towards Kirra, making sure she was getting out
of the deadfall okay, and she finally hopped atop the downed
sycamore with feline grace, her balance impeccable as her tail
counterbalanced behind her. Her innate ability to stay perched atop
the log was really a testament to how fast and noisily she had fallen.
I had a feeling she normally would have been able to recover from
such a sudden shift under her feet.
Kirra’s large eyes flickered down towards my machete handle,
but before I could ask her if this was really a kill or be killed situation,
the Torgo moved again.
This time as it charged, I used its own leverage against it.
Pirouetting quickly to the side, I gripped its stinking fur in my hands
and threw it doubly hard against the nearest thick-trunked tree, and I
heard it smash its face with another satisfying crunch. He stumbled
backward, shaking his head and letting out a few snuffling whines,
and before he could recover, I stepped in front of him quickly.
The beast clumsily attempted one last Hail Mary blow, but I
dodged it easily before grabbing his shaggy head with both hands
and driving his face directly down into my knee, driving it into his
blocky forehead rather than the pulp of its nose. With one last pitiful
whine, the big lumbering galoot went lights out within seconds,
smearing a trail of drool down my pant leg as it finally collapsed to
the ground.
Kirra hopped down beside me lightly, landing prettily in a crouch
before standing up to her full height. She sniffed the ripe, doggy air
and grimaced again, her sense probably even more overwhelmed by
the thing’s stench than mine. She even let out a little hiss as she
stepped closer, her lips pulling back to reveal both of her fangs
simultaneously.
 “Do you want… I mean, should I kill it?” I asked, staring worriedly
down at the caveman-like dog. The way it was curled up into a ball
was sort of pathetic. Its arm even pawed the air absentmindedly as if
it were dreaming of chasing equally stupid rabbits.
Kirra shook her head, frowning as she looked down at it. “It is a
predator, but they’re easily outsmarted. Like the woodland fae, we
don’t kill what we don’t need. Life is sacred to all fae, no matter the
species, especially the women.” Her expression turned suddenly
darker. “We aren’t like our men. This thing will hold no grudge… it
simply is.”
“And it won’t follow us to the village?” I asked, doing my best to
wipe the drool off my legs with a dropped monstera frond.
“No,” she said with a soft chuckle. “When it wakes up, it won’t
even remember what it was doing.” She tapped her temple with a
smirk. “Not exactly known for object permanence, let alone holding a
grudge.”
She shaded her eyes and looked up towards the canopy, where a
shaft of light was beaming down on us. She squinted up into it, the
light making the marking around her eye even more noticeable, then
flickered her wings a few times. The sunlight played through the
iridescent markings, casting prisms on the jungle floor.
“It’s nearly dinner time,” she said as if reading the time in the sky.
“And then we’ll have a welcoming ceremony for you.”
“For me?” I said as I wiped my dirty hands off on my pants one
last time. “I’m, uh, not exactly dressed to the nines here.”
“I think you look perfect,” she said, her voice more flirtatious than
it had been previously, and I had to wonder if the fight with the Torgo
had won me any points. I mean, Kirra had seemed appreciative of
me before, but something about the fight and the proximity to her
home seemed to ease up her previously no-nonsense vibe. There
was actually a glimmer of playfulness in there somewhere, and I
wondered what she’d be like once I really got to know her. Posey
had been fun and flirty from the get-go, even when she was scouting
me in New York, but Kirra had come with a much graver attitude as if
her species’ very lives depended on my presence.
Which I suppose they sort of did.
 We sidestepped the snoring Torgo, still chasing wascally wabbits
in his sleep, and continued on down the path. Kirra hadn’t been lying
about how close we were to the village, and after only three to five
minutes more, there was a break in the treeline.
Kirra’s pace picked up excitedly, practically trotting down the rest
of the path, and I followed quickly. It felt immediately cooler as we
breached the thick jungle, and the breeze that wafted over me
suddenly felt like heaven. I caught the scent of fresh water and
smoke in the air and looked around at the tall cliffs that stretched in
every direction.
We seemed to be on a large ledge, and I had to crane my neck to
look around at the suddenly all-encompassing rock and sky around
me. Directly in front of me, the trail turned abruptly downward into a
rocky trail that was partly a steep hike and partly a naturally formed
rocky staircase. Just before it dipped down, a small cliff jutted out
about twelve feet from the path overlooking the valley below.
Kirra left the path and skipped over to the very edge of the cliff,
her steps seeming ten times lighter than before. It was truly as if a
massive weight had already been lifted from her shoulders, and she
even lifted off the ground for a few moments, her wings fluttering
behind her.
“Come here!” she said excitedly, beckoning me towards her.
“There’s nothing like seeing it for the first time. I wish… I wish
sometimes I could experience it for the first time all over again!”
“Alright,” I said, stepping forward. “But don’t expect me to fly.”
I slid my hand into her outstretched one, once more marveling at
how soft her palm and fingertips were. I was too preoccupied with
her hand at first to even register the sight that stretched before my
eyes. When I did, I can actually say it took my breath away, and I
even blinked a few times rapidly just to make sure I wasn’t staring at
some kind of cinematic simulation. This was some James Cameron-
level shit.
“Holy hell,” I breathed, wiping my forearm across my sweaty brow
to block the salty droplets before they could roll into my rapidly
blinking eyes. “You were right, Kirra. This was totally worth it.”
 3

The ledge looked out onto a valley completely surrounded by cliff

faces that formed a sort of bowl. On the high rock walls opposite us,
in the center of the curve, a crystalline blue waterfall flowed down the
rocks, looking so bright and blue it seemed fake. It dumped into a
small body of water, too big for a pond and too small for a lake,
forming a small lagoon on the opposite side of the valley.
In the places where the foaming blue water was deeper, it glowed
a gorgeous teal like some photoshopped travel ad. Thick curving
lines of luscious trees and vegetation sprouted around the bottom of
the cliffs, further hemming in the village directly in its center.
Glaring bright pops of color in the form of various flowers and
bushes dotted the valley, and I even caught sight of several trees in
varying jewel tones. Mist from the waterfall created pretty wisps of
fog and thin cloud cover, and as I watched, a flock of tropical birds
cut through one of the clouds, reducing it to slivers that floated
prettily away like dandelion seeds. Everything was just so… perfect.
It was like an uncut diamond in a gorgeous ring setting, looking both
beautiful and out of place simultaneously, a utopia hidden in the
middle of the jungle.
“Kirra, this… this is amazing,” I said, gripping my backpack straps
as I peered further over the ledge. Even from this far away, I could
feel the slight hint of mist from the thundering waterfall on the
breeze.
 “I told you!” she said, spinning happily and tilting her face towards
the wind. Yeah, she was definitely feeling more like herself. “I haven’t
been gone long, but any time away is long enough.”
“And the Torgo really don’t find you here?” I said with amazement
as we began to pick our way down the steep staircase. I noticed that
in some places, the ledges ended abruptly, requiring a modicum of
rock climbing to get down. It would be no problem for something as
graceful and acrobatic as a cat, but I would get a hell of a lot
sweatier on my way down. Thankfully, my muscles’ new strength and
grace would go a long way.
“No,” she shook her head. “They are too clumsy to climb down,
and we find the rocks and falls mask our scent. They rarely risk even
stepping off the jungle ledge if they even get that far. In all my years,
we have only found two Torgo in our village, and the poor souls fell
off the ledge completely and broke their necks. Ayanka, our elder,
says they probably didn’t even mean to, just smelled a whiff of cat or
cookfire and chased it to their doom. They break their necks almost
immediately.”
I shielded my eyes and studied the natural fortifications around
us. The waterfall that cascaded down one side of the village was
definitely an impressive water source, and save for the rocky
stairway, there was no other way into the village. It was completely
secluded, defendable, and self-sustaining. If only every fae village
had its advantages.
Picking her way carefully along the edge of the ledge, Kirra
stepped onto the downward path first, and I tried to track her feet to
see where it would be best to step. The rocky stair reminded me of a
witch's stairs at first, something I’d seen in old New England homes.
Supposedly, the narrow, alternate tread steps were meant to trip
up and fool witches, but I heard on a podcast before that it was all
just urban legend.
Still, the alternating rocks were too narrow for both feet to settle
on, and they certainly tripped me up a few times. I could see how
something as clumsy as a Torgo would easily miss a stair and pitch
forward, plummeting to the valley floor a hundred feet or so below. In
a few places, the path became vertical, though it was nothing more
complicated than your basic rock-climbing wall. Eventually, it
became a well-trod dirt path once more, and we practically ran down
it thanks to how steep it was. After that, we traversed a ten-foot-long
rope bridge over a narrow chasm, just one more defense in place to
protect the village. After all that, it felt like even more of a reward
when we stepped into the village proper.
It was still just as picturesque from the view on the ground. There
were maybe only twenty buildings total, and unlike the woodland
realm, there didn’t seem to be any sort of large lodge or meeting
center. There was, however, a large open pavilion with a stage and
open bench seating, and it was clear that was the village’s central
meeting place. Several cook fires peppered the spaces between the
thatched huts, sending a variety of sweet and savory smells into the
air, the fragrant smoke tunneling into the sky in pretty whisps.
The buildings all seemed to be constructed in the sort of
stereotypical island style you might see at some kind of tropical
theme park or castaway movie. They were all mostly composed of
logs, thick bamboo posts, thatch, and palm fronds, with brighter
green lashings of freshly woven rope around some of the newer
additions. Rather than doors, thick leather pelts, hides, and even
swatches of pretty embroidered fabric fluttered in the darkened
doorways. Chickens, small pigs, and alpaca-like creatures were
cloistered in various pens, and I saw evidence of several small
gardens.
“Kirra!” a group of small children shouted excitedly as we walked,
frolicking right into our path. Kirra beamed at them all, ruffling their
downy, kitten-soft ears here and there. Even though she’d told me a
few smaller boys still survived, it was still surprising to see a male
fairy that wasn’t an immediate threat. All the kids were adorable, with
extra fuzzy hands, feet, tails, and ears, and their ears and cheeks
were permanently tinged with pink. Their facial features were
incredibly kittenish, making their eyes seem comically wide. I noticed
that the children’s wings were noticeably smaller, and the boys’ had
a duller shine than the girls’.
Kirra unsheathed all ten of her claws and growled menacingly,
putting on her scariest face as she bared her fangs. The children
broke apart and scattered with peals of laughter, and she started
laughing herself as she began to chase them around.
“Monster!” one of the little ones yelled, then barrelled directly into
my legs.
“Whoa, hey,” I laughed, steadying myself and looking down at the
little girl, whose big eyes peered up at me like Puss in Boots.
“You don’t has any wings?” she said, cocking her head curiously
to the side. “How comes?”
Kirra, still laughing, trotted over, a kid clinging to each leg. “He’s
not a fae, Kovia. He’s a human. They don’t have wings.” She shot
me a sweet look. “But they’re just as special as we are.”
“If you say so.” Kovia shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “But I likes
my wings.”
She toddled off, and the other kids soon followed.
“Sorry… children are…” Kirra said, waving her hand vaguely.
“Always painfully honest,” I said with a chuckle, finishing for her.
“It’s alright. Besides, she wasn’t lying. Humans aren’t exactly all that
impressive.”
“I don’t think that applies to you, but I know someone who’s been
dying to meet you, and then you can relax before the heat ritual
tonight,” she said, tugging my hand and pulling me faster down the
lane.
Wait, heat ritual? That sounded interesting and far more specific
than the “welcoming ceremony” she’d previously mentioned.
We walked to the left of the large open pavilion, where a smaller
hut stood with its embroidered flap held open by a middle-aged cat
woman with a stern face. She had a speared staff in one hand as if
standing guard, and her entire outfit was made of bits of hide and
bone.
“Wakanda forever,” I muttered as I sidled past, and Kirra shot me
a curious look. “Nothing.”
“It’s just for show,” Kirra explained as we both nodded at the older
fae and ducked into the hut. “Ceremony and all that. Our elder lives
here, and this hut has remained guarded against any threat since
even she was a kitten. We treat our history with the utmost respect.”
 Well, now I sort of felt like a dick for dropping the Marvel
reference.
The hut had a small makeshift foyer, which separated the main
body of the structure with more embroidered curtains, two this time.
We stepped between them, and Kirra gestured grandly with her
hand.
“Logan, let me introduce you to Ayanka, our village elder,” she
said, curtseying a bit and bowing her head. I did the same, though
without the curtsey part. They’d invited me here to save their race,
and somehow I didn’t think playing Pretty Pretty Princess would
instill much confidence in them.
“Ma’am… your highness,” I said, looking up at her.
Ayanka was a gray cat, though it was hard to tell if gray had been
her original color or if it had come with age. Her wiry, springy hair
was pulled up in an iron gray bun, her ears were gray, and the tufts
of fur I spotted looked like smoke. Rather than a skimpy outfit like
some other catgirls, Ayanka had on a simple caramel-colored robe,
sort of like a caftan, and someone had taken the time to embroider
different flowers all over it.
Like Hollyhock of the woodland fae, it was clear Ayanka was the
oldest and most respected fae in the village. She had a sort of quiet,
regal bearing that made me immediately want to fall to one knee and
swear fealty to her. Even though her face was demure and her long,
elegantly clawed hands were folded delicately over her lap, she still
cut a very commanding figure. Of course, the wooden staff leaning
next to her and the hand-carved wooden throne certainly helped give
her a queenly air, but I had a feeling you could put Ayanka on a
plastic lawn chair with a twig, and she’d still seem just as imposing.
The elder extended her hand towards me, and I took it reverently,
like addressing a queen, still unsure of the protocol. She smiled
down at me, her eyes crinkling in the corners, then shocked me by
letting go of my hand and patting me on the head.
“You’re a sweet man,” she said, her voice husky but still the same
tremulous tone of the very old. “I have a good feeling about you.”
Suddenly, a tiger-striped little fae came sprinting into the room,
careening into Ayanka’s queenly throne with a little oof. The child
scrambled clumsily into her lap, tugging on her distinguished-looking
robe without seeming to care about the elegance of the old cat.
“Hi!” the little one said, swiping a forearm across its nose with a
sniff.
Ayanka laughed and scratched the child behind the ears with an
affectionate little growl. “Well, I suppose since you’ve met the oldest
of us, you can meet the youngest of us. Logan, this is Markala, and
he will hopefully be a brave, strong boy one day.”
She looked up at me, and I could see the weight and hidden
meaning behind her words. She didn’t just mean big and strong; she
meant good too. Not a homicidal maniac like his late father and
uncles.
“I will!” he said cheerfully, wiping his nose again, then wiggled out
of her arms and ran off.
Once the kid was fully out of sight, Ayanka turned back to me.
“So much I didn’t say in front of him, hmm? Little ones don’t need to
know that the weight of the world lies on their backs. If you succeed
here, Logan, your own offspring will lead the way to a brighter future.
We hope that with careful upbringings and fresh bloodlines, we can
remedy our previous failures.”
I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. I mean, I’d been successful
breeding with the woodland fae, but how exactly did you word that?
It wasn’t like this was a job interview. She wasn’t asking how strong
my swimmers were or what my Briggs Meyers personality type was.
“I, uh, I’ll try my best,” I said, opting for a professional, tight-lipped
smile and nod.
Ayanka arched a brow and pursed her lips. “Mhm, I’m sure you
will. The trying is the fun part.” She waited a beat before smiling
wide, breaking any tension in the room. “It’ll be alright, Logan. I’m
old, but I’m fun. We stand on some ceremony here, but I promise,
we aren’t as serious and fussy as Kirra might have you believe.” She
shielded her mouth and stage whispered. “Get her to loosen up, will
you?”
I grinned back as Kirra blushed deeply and fiddled with her
fingers. “I’ll try.”
 “It’s the trying that’ll do it,” the old cat said, then tapped her nose.
“Now, off you both go. We’ve got a fire ceremony tonight, and you
both reek like sweat and Torgo fur. I smelled you before you even
came in here. Can’t have a proper heat ritual if the mate smells like a
dog’s ass.”
She shooed us, a few of her wooden and bronze bracelets
clinking musically as she did.
“So, where exactly am I staying?” I said, eyeing the huts around
us as Kirra and I stepped back into the sunlight.
“We have a hut set up for you!” she said brightly. “We prepped it
before I portaled. We sort of figured you’d say yes, and I guess some
of us thought making a place for you might cosmically help the
decision along or something. It’s actually the one beside Ayanka’s.”
She pointed at a hut with a sturdy piece of leather draped over
the door frame. Like the others, it seemed structurally sound, and the
cookfire in front of it was brand spanking new without even a hint of
black ash. Fresh kindling was stacked beside it, and the ring of rocks
around it had not a speck of dust on them. I was curious about the
inside, but now that Ayanka had pointed out my smell, I was painfully
aware that my Old Spice wasn’t up to jungle snuff.
“Thanks, it looks really nice,” I said with a grin, glad to see her
blush once more at the praise. “But um, let’s take care of a bath first
before I go sitting on my nice new digs.”
“You can bathe in the lagoon!” Kirra said brightly, tugging on my
hand.
“Um, anything a bit more private?” I asked, not exactly feeling up
for scrubbing my dangly bits with an audience. Especially bits that
had been simmering in jungle sweat all day.
“No,” Kirra said simply, apparently seeing nothing wrong with
washing your undercarriage in front of your friends and neighbors.
Well, when in Rome, I guess.
I followed Kirra down to the lagoon, which was thankfully empty.
Unselfconsciously, the fairy began tugging off her sarong and
sweeping her long hair up into a high bun.
“Oh, okay, so we like actually do this,” I said, trying not to stare as
I dropped my pack to the dirt and began pulling my own clothes off,
albeit much slower.
“Is something wrong?” Kirra said, half turning as she waded into
the water. Her heart-shaped ass wiggled as she did, matching the
movements of her tail. I caught a glimpse of the side of her breast,
her nipple evident in the bright sunlight. Delicate whorls of white fur
crept along the side of her chest.
“Umm, nope,” I said, kicking off my shoes hastily. I needed to get
waist deep as soon as possible, or Kirra would be getting an eyeful
before the breeding ceremony instead of after.
I pulled off my socks hastily, then quickly yanked my pants and
underwear down in one go. Cupping my hands over my privates, I
started walking towards the water. Behind me, I heard a little giggle,
and I turned over my shoulder to see a group of cat fae peering at
me from behind their hands, their bodies half hidden in the shadow
of a nearby hut.
“Now, girls!” Kirra scolded, turning to face the shore and crossing
her arms over her breasts. She shot me an apologetic look. “It’s
your… y’know…”
I nodded down towards my cupped hands, which were rapidly
becoming futile at hiding my reaction to seeing Kirra full frontal. “You
said it was normal?”
“Oh!” she said with a giggle, her eyes flickering down towards my
hands. “It’s not your nudity! Like most animals, our natural state is
normal to us. We only wear clothing as a way to protect certain parts
from the elements,” she blushed. “Or because they are… sensitive.
They are laughing at your backside.”
“Hey,” I said, turning over my shoulder to shoot them a glare.
“What’s wrong with my ass? It’s not like I ever skip leg day.”
“No!” Kirra laughed. “You have no wings, no tail, and no fur.
You’re just so bare. You’re so smooth…”
I resisted the urge to make a joke about just how smooth I was,
hoping to turn this into a conversation on my dating prowess, but
Kirra stared up at the sky as the shadows suddenly grew long and
purplish. It was as if dusk had fallen on the village with the flick of
some god’s light switch.
 “We need to hurry. Dinner is right after sunset, and the ceremony
will be soon after,” Kirra said, sinking lower into the water and
rubbing some of the clear, cool spray onto her dirt-smudged cheeks.
There was another bout of giggles while I waded in even further
and discreetly attempted to scrub.
“Stop that!” Kirra hissed, licking the top of her hand and rubbing it
over her ear. “Just imagine his tail is there, but very small.”
Yikes, the one phrase every man wants to hear. I immediately
dove under the water, letting the cool waves sluice through my hair
and over my skin until I couldn’t hear any more giggles. I briefly
caught a glimpse of Kirra’s legs in the crystal water but swam on
before I let my eyes roam up even higher. The cat girls might not
care about nudity, but it definitely had its effect on me.
I swam away from the shore towards the thunderous falls, found
a discreet enough place to get under the hood, and then swam back
to shore. By the time I did, Kirra was already there with a large piece
of plush fabric, which she handed to me with a grin. Her sarong was
back around her waist, even though she was still dripping water
droplets onto the gritty shore. Her hair was still piled high into a bun,
leaving her breasts completely bare. A spare droplet rolled between
them, and I resisted the urge to follow it with my tongue. I wasn’t
completely sure if Kirra was one of my mates, but damn, I hoped she
was.
“Thanks,” I said appreciatively, wrapping the absorbent fabric
around my waist. It was warm as if it had been sitting out in the sun
all day.
“I moved your clothes and your bag back to your hut,” she said
helpfully, completely oblivious to how maddeningly sexy she looked.
“When you're dressed, join us at the meeting shelter for dinner.”
“So what, I can’t escort a lady to dinner?” I grinned as I ran my
fingers through my dark, damp hair.
Kirra bounced from foot to foot shyly, as if weighing her options. “I
have to get ready… but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
“I’m going to hold you to it,” I teased as we began to walk towards
the huts.
 “You’re going to hold me?” Kirra said, her eyes wide as she
turned her face towards mine. “But we haven’t had the ceremony
yet. Can you wait until after?”
“Sure,” I chuckled, holding my arm out for her, and she threaded
her arm through mine. “So this is that kind of ceremony, huh?”
I’d been privy to more than one fairy welcoming and mating
ceremony, so this wasn’t exactly my first rodeo.
But it’s not like the rodeos stop being fun after the first one.
“I did say heat ritual earlier, didn’t I?” Kirra said flirtatiously,
though it was still peppered with her trademark hint of shyness. “It is
tradition when we take a new mate.”
Well then, who was I to fight against tradition?
 4

Dinner was a communal and open affair, much less imposing than
all of Kirra’s warnings about ceremony and tradition would have me
believe. All the food was laid out on tables in the large open pavilion,
and everyone grabbed whatever they wanted, laughing and dancing
as they did. Children ran underfoot, a band played, and even a few
chickens scurried around.
It was sheer bedlam, but it was fun, and there weren’t any stiff
introductions or speeches. I was told to grab a seat along a bench
near Ayanka, where I ate all manner of exotic foods. It was a cross
between Spanish dishes and Polynesian, including poi and a
plantain-like fruit, smoked and shredded meat with a sweet sauce,
rice and beans, and a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables. I was too
busy stuffing my face to realize that Kirra was nowhere to be seen,
and I finally asked about her during my second plate.
“Is Kirra coming?” I asked Ayanka, leaning around her grim-faced
guard.
“Soon,” was all the elder would say before daintily picking at a
piece of plantain.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked, trying to make polite dinner
conversation. “Everything is really good.”
She smiled, then shook her head. “I must keep my mind and
body mostly clear for the ceremony tonight, though you eat up, big
boy.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’re going to need it.”
 I wasn’t sure if that was an ominous threat or a really fun
promise, but either way, I took the old cat’s advice and shoveled
some more food on my plate.
After dinner, Ayanka, with the help of some of the
overenthusiastic little ones, yelled for us all to leave our plates and
come towards the communal bonfire. It was a large pit about twenty
or so yards away from the open end of the pavilion, and it was
already roaring and crackling merrily, sending sparks up into the
purplish night sky. There were no benches around it, but there were
some logs and stones, and many of the fae opted to cross their legs
and sit on the hard-packed, well-trod earth. I wasn’t sure where to
sit, so I sort of milled about for a moment while everyone else
settled. It was Ayanka’s guard who eventually nudged me along to
stand at Ayanka’s left hand, and I gave her a nod of quiet thanks.
“Ossomo! Welcome!” Ayanka yelled, her strong voice carrying far.
“Tonight, we welcome a new member to our imipum, our tribe. He
will be the one who remakes the world and carries us into the future.
Avok!”
“Avok!” many of the other fae yelled.
Beside me, Ayanka’s stern-faced guard whispered to me
helpfully. “It is like yes or amen.”
“Thanks,” I shot out of the corner of my mouth.
“We ask now to gather,” Ayanka said, then smiled fondly, her
eyes crinkling as she did. “We ask now to gather those of us above
breeding age. Little ones, it is not your night. If the many mothers
would take them now, please.”
She shooed her hands forward, tinkling her bracelets, and a few
of the fae ushered the little ones away. More than one kid let out a
disappointed, heavy sigh, and one of the kittens literally buried her
heels in the ground and had to be dragged away by her caregiver,
pouting and quivering her lip the whole time.
“Ah, to have the disappointments of the young, huh?” Ayanka
asked merrily, and several of us chuckled. “If only it were so simple!”
Once the kids were safely tucked away for the night, Ayanka
began again. During the time between her last words and the
process of shuffling the kids off, several of the fae had milled around
to refill drinks or murmur to one another, and there was a buzz of
excitement in the air. It was sort of infectious, and I felt myself
becoming a little jittery with anticipation of what was to come.
“Now,” Ayanka said, gesturing towards a shadowy hut across
from the bonfire. It had garlands of flowers strewn over it. “It is time
to give thanks to Kirra for bringing Logan to us. Logan, in case you
did not know, Kirra will be one of your three mates. She is within her
cycle and already seems quite fond of you.”
I watched as the pelts in front of the hut’s door parted to reveal
Kirra, looking amazing in a beaded skirt with an extremely high slit
along one side. Her long black hair was pulled into a low bun, and a
few pieces framed her face fetchingly. Rather than a top, more
beads hid her bare breasts, though the necklaces swayed each time
she took a step towards us, and I caught a nice glimpse here and
there.
“The ceremonial q’shanee, please,” Ayanka intoned, and another
cat placed a large, hollowed-out coconut into her wrinkled hands.
I looked at the guard, hoping for an answer, and she leaned over
conspiratorially to whisper once more. “It is a fermented fruit drink,
nothing more.”
“So I’m not going to be tripping balls at this heat ceremony,
right?” I murmured.
The guard frowned. “There are no balls to trip over.”
I shot her a tight-lipped smile, then focused back on Kirra. I
needed to get these damn cats on Urban Dictionary, stat.
The coconut was passed from Ayanka, then moved left around
the crowd of fae, and each one took a sip. Kirra was still walking
slowly as if strolling for graduation or walking down the aisle, and the
coconut shell made its way back to me before she even drew up
beside me. When I got it, I was shocked to see that the fluid inside
was a deep red, almost pinkish like dragonfruit. I had expected
something paler, like coconut milk. It smelled a bit like liquor and fruit
punch, tingling my nose as I lifted it to drink. The taste was both
cloyingly sweet and antiseptic, and I could immediately feel the liquor
burn the back of my throat. A fiery heat lingered on my tongue as if
I’d eaten hot peppers. Hallucinogenic or not, I had a feeling if you
drank too much of the fermented juice, you’d be drunker than your
typical Bostonian at a Sox game.
Finally, Kirra stood beside me, and I couldn’t help but grin like an
idiot at her. A light dusting of gold glitter or paint was over her pale
skin, and she looked like a walking pile of stardust, complimenting
her wide, amber eyes. Her lips had been stained a dark, luscious
red, which made her fangs gleam extra-white under the bonfire’s
flickering light.
“Have I actually told you yet how glad I am that you're my mate?”
I said softly, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. I was
rewarded with a wide smile and a very sexy giggle.
“Children,” Ayanka warned playfully as she took the coconut from
my slightly dazed hands and held it aloft. “Let me finish.”
We zipped our lips, though Kirra let her hand remain in mine for a
few moments longer. Ayanka began to chant, and several other fae
around her joined their voices. The simple chant became melodic,
almost hypnotic, and I felt a fresh sheen of sweat break out over my
body as the surrounding atmosphere became suddenly intense.
The elder cat fae dipped her fingers into the bowl of red liquid
and tapped them on my forehead softly, creating some sort of
symbol there. I blinked as a rivulet of juice ran down towards my eye,
but thankfully Kirra noticed it and wiped it away with a soft smile. She
turned towards me fully now, and I was once again struck by a
wedding comparison. Ayanka handed her the bowl, still chanting,
and Kirra held it out towards me.
“Now, you do the same to me,” she whispered, and I was
shocked I could hear her over the rising voices. “Make a mark, even
an L if you’d like. Just mark me as yours.”
I did as she asked, and she closed her eyes with a soft, happy
sigh. Her fangs winked once more as she bit her lip, looking almost
turned on in the fire’s shadows. As far as I knew, she could have
been. Fae seemed to wait their whole lives for a chance to mate, and
this was probably even more exciting for her than it was for me.
Not that I wasn’t pretty pumped, either. I mean, do I have to say it
again? Cat girls. Real cat girls.
 “And now!” Ayanka yelled triumphantly, plucking the coconut from
Kirra’s hands and dashing it to the ground. “The dance!”
Everyone began to clap and whisper excitedly as a heart-
pounding drum beat began to sound. The pelt moved in the doorway
across the way, revealing two more cat fae I hadn’t previously seen
yet. I assumed they were remaining mates, though the marking
ceremony seemed to be over. Apparently, only Kirra would receive
that, and I wondered if Ayanka’s thanks to her and my symbol had
been the highest honor.
Shortly after the other two girls began to walk towards me, the
other fae began to sing, chant, whoop, and cheer as the drums beat
even wilder, many of them clapping their hands and stomping their
feet along. Kirra squeezed my hand once more with a sultry little
smile, then trotted out to meet the other two girls, her necklaces
jingling musically as she did. Once the three women were together,
they began a mesmerizing dance, somewhere between a haka and
a bellydance. The beaded skirts around their waists seemed to clack
in time with the music, only adding to the symphony of sound around
us. Their hips and tails caught the rhythm the most, moving in a
hypnotic, fluid-like way, and I had to make a concerted effort to tear
my eyes away from each of them to give them all their equal due.
On Kirra’s left was a fae that looked like walking autumn, and I
meant that in the best way. Her skin was tawny, and the fur that
decorated her body was a lovely ginger color. Her wings were golden
behind her, iridescent like the others, though with the same slightly
darker markings as a translucent butterfly. Her vibrant red hair was
just past her chin in cute, rumpled layers, and her eyes were just as
bright, like molten copper. Her nose turned up slightly, sitting atop
two luscious lips that looked perpetually pouty. Out of the three
catgirls, she certainly had the biggest and most curvaceous assets,
and it was even harder not to notice how her breasts and hips
wiggled tantalizingly with each movement she made. I practically had
to pick my jaw up off of the ground to turn and stare at the third and
final girl.
Though I definitely wasn’t disappointed when I did.
 She was by far the most muscular, but it didn’t take away from
her natural beauty. She had a color scheme much like a calico, with
caramel and black spots along her white patches of fur. Her hair was
a deep chocolate brown, though several strands of white ran through
it stylishly. She had it pulled atop her head in a high, bouncy ponytail
that swung dramatically every time she stepped, and I had the
biggest urge to run my fingers through it and tug. At the risk of
sounding creepy, there’s just something so satisfying about giving a
long ponytail a good yank when you’re… y’know…
Anyway, the calico’s glittering blue eyes bore into mine, and I
noticed the caramel-colored heart shape splotch on her cheek, like
Kirra’s cat-like marking. She flashed me a wicked grin, revealing
both of her glistening fangs, which seemed longer than Kirra’s set.
Her hands settled against the handle of a kukri on her hip. It was
clear the weapon went everywhere with her, and not even a tribal
dance or costume would part her from her blade. I could certainly
respect that.
The drums grew into a frenzy, and two of the cats in the audience
stepped forward with linen-wrapped sticks. They lit the sticks aflame
in the larger bonfire, and they went up immediately, which meant
they were probably soaked in some kind of alcohol. As if to answer
my question, two different cats swigged hefty portions of fermented
juice from a second coconut being passed around, then spit it onto
the flaming torches held by the first two, making arcs of fire in front of
the gyrating dancers like circus performances. Along the edges of
the show, two more fairies began to do back flips along the sidelines
of the dance, completing the spectacle while the rest of us whooped
and cheered. Sweat broke out over my face from the nearby bonfire
and the gouts of fresh fire, but I didn’t care. Hey, they’d said heat.
Why couldn’t it be figuratively and literally?
Finally, with one last pounding finale, the drums ended, and all of
us erupted into cheers. The other fae flooded the three girls,
wrapping them in hugs and excited chatter that expressed how great
their dance had been. Immediately, Kirra squeezed out from
between the crowd and wrapped her arms boldly around my waist. I
slid my arms around hers, liking how my fingertips felt against her
skin.
“That was amazing,” I said. “You looked…”
“Amazing?” she said, staring up at me. Her eyes flashed like
mirrors in the light.
“Yeah,” I smiled. “I was going to think of something thesaurus
worthy… but amazing works.”
“I don’t know what a thesaurus is, but I can’t say I care right now,”
she said, pulling me even closer against her. “The ceremony is
officially over, which means we’re officially bonded. I’ve waited my
whole life for this night, and I’m not going to wait a moment longer.”
“And the others? They’re mates too, right? Shouldn’t I go
introduce myself or something?” I asked, nodding towards the other
two women still chatting nearby, the flames painting their bodies in
contrasting hues of orange, black, and yellow. The one with the
orange hair waved at me excitedly, but before I could wave back,
Kirra grabbed both of my hands in hers.
“Logan Anders, it is my hope tonight that I will please you enough
that you don’t think about them at all,” Kirra said boldly, though within
an instant, she was once more staring up at me shyly from under her
black eyelashes, her inexperience belying her words.
Still, the determined look in her eyes sent a zing of electricity
down my spine. I supposed the other two fae could wait… after all,
Kirra had been the first to meet me. And who could argue with how
she kept pressing her hips into mine?
I nestled my hand against the small of her back, letting my
fingertips just barely graze the silky base of her tail. “Lead the way.”
 5

Kirra led me to a hut not far from the ceremony space, though far
enough away to not be accidentally disturbed. I could tell it was hers
by the few accessories lying around, like her black sarong and a
beloved, raggedy stuffed animal. It was interesting to see small
glimpses of her personality, and under normal circumstances, I
would have poked around a bit more, maybe engaged in some
conversation.
Except these weren’t normal circumstances.
“Logan,” she said, staring up at me as she pulled me far enough
into the hut that my legs bumped against the edge of the bed. The
confident, flirtatious tone she’d had on back at the fire seemed to
tremble a bit. “I-I feel like I don’t need to tell you that it’s my first
time… but… it is, and-”
“It’s alright,” I said, running my hand up her neck to cup her face.
Suddenly, her eyes fluttered a bit, and her knees buckled. The
skin under my hand felt obviously hot, and her pulse seemed to
knock against my palm.
“That’s… Logan, let me explain,” she said. “We have scent
glands… in our necks and higher up on each wrist, and when we’re
aroused, they can be extra sensitive. It’s part of my heat cycle. When
you touch them in any way, it marks me with your scent. Every cat
fae, predator, or creature on this island will know.”
 Whoa, two more spots to drive a woman crazy? Plus, I had to
admit the idea that my scent would be all over Kirra was sort of hot in
its own primal way. I know that seems sort of caveman-like of me,
but hey, when in the jungle… why not behave as naturally as
possible?
“Soo, here?” I asked, leaning forward and running my tongue
along the curve of her neck and pressing a kiss into the soft divot
behind her ear.
“Y-Yes,” she shuddered.
I circled her delicate wrists in my hands and applied pressure.
“And here?”
She made a strangled sound, eyes closed again, then nodded.
“I can… I can smell you too.”
“Even though I don’t have scent glands?” I asked, murmuring into
her skin.
“My sense of smell is sharper than a human’s,” she said breathily.
“Your sweat, your… arousal, I can smell it on you. Will you… will you
kiss me, please? You don’t know how long I’ve waited to be kissed.”
“We’re going to do more than that,” I whispered against her skin
once more, and she let out a throaty little giggle as I kissed back up
her neck, along her jaw, to kiss her finally on the mouth. Her tongue
explored my mouth eagerly, the slight scratch along its surface
strangely enticing. My hands squeezed her wrists a little as I did, and
she melted like butter into my arms, sagging a little as she stood until
I was forced to let go of her wrists and wrap my arms around her
waist.
“I feel almost drunk,” she whispered happily between kisses.
“More, Logan.”
“Have you ever… had anything?” I asked curiously as I broke
apart from our kiss, my fingers slowly beginning to untie the skirt
around her hips.
“We aren’t as naïve as other fae, if that’s what you mean.” She
smiled, her lips swollen from kissing. “I’ve pleasured myself enough
times waiting for my mate to one day come along.”
Now there was a nice visual.
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And other Pieces; with an English Translation. Edited by

The Right Rev. the Bishop of GRAHAMSTOWN.

32mo., pp. 84, sewed. 2s. 6d.

A GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY OF THE

NAMAQUA-HOTTENTOT LANGUAGE.

By HENRY TINDALL, Wesleyan Missionary.

8vo., pp. 124, sewed. 6s.

FIRST LESSONS IN THE MAORI

LANGUAGE,

With a Short Vocabulary.

By W. L. WILLIAMS, B.A.

Square 8vo., pp. 80, cloth. London, 1862. 3s. 6d.

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Title: Reynard
the fox in
South
Africa
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Immanuel
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1875)
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