Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,236

will send word to the other camps, and we will join your cause.”

“Thank you,” Jules and I replied at the same time.

The elders stood, placing their hands over their hearts, then in unison said, “It is decided. Go with strength.”

Chapter Six

We walked in silence back to our temporary home on the outskirts of the Water camp’s camp. Although feeling determined to follow through with Jules’ plan, I wanted to comfort my guys. I held Huxley’s hand as we walked, making sure to keep him grounded. I'd gotten to the point where I could predict his moods, and I didn't want him to slip into his triggered overprotective mode. It had been a while since he'd been destructive and closed off.

As we continued down the trail, Huxley’s grip on my hand tightened. I welcomed the pain of his hold, knowing it was what he needed to feel strong. I'd prepared myself for his moodiness. But before we could get to our tent, he abruptly stopped walking and pulled me backward. Ahead of us, Patrick, Kemper, and Mistress Stonewell kept heading down the path. “We’ll catch up,” Huxley growled.

Kemper and Linda kept going, seemingly indifferent to his odd behavior. But Patrick paused, turning to look at us with uncertainty. Patrick needed to feel useful when Huxley got like this. It was his own personal atonement for what happened to his parents all those years ago. Huxley would never ask for his brother’s help.

“Come on,” I told Patrick. Unlike Hux, I wasn’t too proud to say what I needed. I needed Patrick to be okay. I needed Huxley to feel like I was safe. Navigating Huxley’s triggers was difficult, and more than anything, it was important to me that Patrick didn’t feel distanced from his brother. I made a promise long ago to Hux that I wouldn't come between them, and I wasn't going to start now.

Huxley didn’t protest. He pulled me off the trail and guided us towards the grove where we usually held our sparring sessions. We’d spent so many nights walking these woods alone together, that I could have gone to our special spot with my eyes closed.

Once by our tree, Huxley pressed me up against the rough bark, the wood scraping along my bare shoulders. And when he crashed his lips to mine, it took my breath away. My heart lost its rhythm, and the steady balance of confidence I pretended to teeter on finally toppled over. I poured my doubts, my fears, and my inadequacies into the fire of his touch. With Patrick watching, Huxley darted his tongue out, tasting me. I felt everything and nothing all at once. He drank me in like I was the last drop of water in a large basin of disappointments.

He thrust his knee between my legs and ran his hands up and down my body. The tips of his fingers grazed the sides of my breasts as he moved from hips to chest. I couldn’t remember why I was sad or what numbness I’d been clinging to. His kisses reminded me I’m worthy. His kisses tasted like home. Like Dormas. Like family and hope and all the things I’d been missing these last five months.

“You’re not going,” he growled against my mouth as I arched my back to get closer. Angry, I pulled back, but the hard bark stopped me from distancing myself too much.

“You’re not going to stop me,” I replied. I wanted my voice to sound harsh and unrelenting, but the words that escaped my clenched teeth sounded like a whimper. I craved Huxley’s kisses on a visceral level—and he knew it.

Huxley danced the tips of his fingertips along my collarbone before pushing down the straps of my grey tank top. He dived into nibbling the defined bone, causing my sensitive skin to pebble wherever his wet lips touched. I opened my eyes and was gifted with Patrick’s hooded stare. The last time he watched us, he seemed uncertain. Now, there was nothing but hope in his gaze.

“Huxley, you can’t kiss me until I forget,” I moaned out as he dragged his teeth along my skin, knowing my words held no truth. Huxley’s kisses were already making me forget.

“Are you sure? It seems to be working,” he replied with a chuckle. His hot breath feathered along my skin, making me blossom with white-hot desire.

“I thought you needed me to help you…” I wasn’t sure if he was comfortable mentioning his episodes. Nor did I want to distract him from