SATING THE SATYR

SATING THE SATYR

A Satyr Erotica short story

The Monster Erotica Collection, story 12

TERRI STERN

Copyright © 2024 Terri Stern

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner

whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely

coincidental.

The academy tower was a good spot to be in the summer: the narrow windows at the top allowed a gentle breeze to flit through if one left it crooked open, and the light was always good this high up with no trees to obscure the golden sunshine.

Zoe sat curled in her favourite spot – a high-backed wooden chair, set into a nook near the rough wood of the roof timbers, with a study table not quite large enough for two people but decadently spacious for one. Few others trailed all the way up the towers’ circling steps, even fewer stayed up in the study space, reserved for advanced research practice, so it had become her area by default. Idly, Zoe called up a long shard of ice, flat as a hand mirror. Rotating it like a dancer up on her toes at the tavern, she watched her misted reflection stare back at her for a few moments, silvery eyes bright on the dark water, before she let it fall onto the table and shatter. She selected a couple of slivers for her drink, popping another into her mouth so it could melt on her tongue.

The heat really was too much today, even with her academy skirt pulled up to sit snug against the top of her legs so her skin could breathe – she was positively wilting. It was a beastly summer this year, the risk of a drought hanging over them like the sun itself, so she’d been asked to stay over the break and assist where needed. As the academy’s best water user, she was invaluable in the heat, even if it was more of a mild blackmail given the fees the academy charged for their services. The perks of being a trained mage. She was never short of work, but gods above she was bored. And grumpy from being over hot.

She’d been lucky most days, being able to float around the academy out of uniform as the remaining staff took a sympathetic view of her being kept there for professional reasons, but the summer break was almost over, and she would have to share the space with other students again soon, so she had to get used to being back in uniform. There was at least some leeway for senior students, it was closer to working robes than the twee skirts and blouses the new initiates had to wear.

A laugh broke through her consideration, the joy of preparations for the festivities floating up on what little breeze there was. The sizzle of cooking followed swiftly afterwards, the earthy grease of a hog roasting, and she huffed a sigh. The solstice festival was upon them all, willing or not, and she would be expected to make a show of her face at the feast tonight.

It wasn’t exactly a burden; the food made it worth it if nothing else. The academy cooks were vicious in their need to show off, and she had a soft spot for the variety of desserts the festival usually offered. It was just so… boring this year. The calendar had caught up with itself with a shorter season, meaning the festival was earlier than the learning year, and that meant no fire mages to do the usual light show. There would be sparklers and fixed wheels, and whatever else the senior earth mages could be trusted to make, but it wouldn’t be the usual affair. And she was in her twentieth year now, she just didn’t find the usual school spirit in her spirit.

She wanted to go out and do and more, be more, but one couldn’t leave the academy too early as a senior mage, or it looked like a disposal rather than an active choice. So many failed graduates left in the night, or slipped between schools collecting spells like they were merchants. A scant few went into being sell-swords or adventurers, but that was bloody work, and she was not a battle mage. Let the fire boys and their sort throw themselves at monsters, the most she would risk was some advanced fishing with her ability to pluck fish from the water.

Which was what made tonight so vexing: she had to go, because outside of her professors she was the most senior here. Being the default was no grand honour, and though she could make polite chatter and mingle like one did at these things, everyone would know it was because she was just there rather than there being a good reason she’d been chosen. How bland. It wasn’t that she would be a bad representative – she was pretty enough, with the same silver blonde hair her mother sported and warm-toned skin that made it shine against her. She would stand out enough to be notable. Her eyes could make some people a little wary at first, but they only shone when she was actively using her magic, and grey eyes weren’t so unusual in the area that they’d cause an upset. 

“Zoe, I need to speak with you.” A will-o’-the-wisp fire popped into life at her table, the booming voice of her tutor echoing through the tower. “Are you free?”

“Yes, Simeon.” Zoe hastily tugged her robes down, sweeping the ice shards off the desk lest he be remote viewing as well as speaking. She very much was not supposed to use ice, that was a blending of water and other things, but in this heat who could blame her? Just because others couldn’t blend wasn’t her fault. 

“Good, come and see me in the library.” The blue fire winked out, leaving her alone again. For goodness sake, he couldn’t have just passed the message on through the speaking flame?

She packed her bag up, only reading material so it wasn’t too heavy, and trotted down the tower stairs. The academy had two towers, this and the astronomy one, and though they were great, lumbering things coated in lichen, she was the tiniest bit protective of them. Other academies had grander halls or more expansive grounds, but they could scratch towards the skies like dragon’s claws reaching up for the stars.

And it was a great place for the air mages to practise their skills before trying flying once they were sufficiently skilled, though it had been nearly a year since Bear had gone down too quickly and cracked his head open. He’d been fine, of course, and Zoe suspected someone less robust would have been expelled, but he was their first flier in three years. The board was willing to look the other way for such exceptional talent, once the swelling had gone down.

She giggled to herself at the memory, funny now there was a distance to it. She’d cushioned his fall as much as she could, a pool that was not deep enough to prevent impact but certainly must have reduced the pain, she hoped.

The library was in the main body of the academy, a sprawling manor house set up on the crowning hill of the grounds that had been donated by the founding family and made into a boarding school initially, expanding into the now famous academy as the magic in the land became more obvious. The woods that almost encircled them were teeming with all the usual forest spirits and occupants, that wasn’t special, but when a white stag had walked out of the trees, its antlers ablaze with ruby fire that dripped down and sprouted into roses wherever it touched, the school had rightly pivoted.

Their academy was the leading light in elemental work, blessed by a forest god whose antlered head was still their main insignia, and the local towns had been willing to donate healthily to keep a god happy. Now they were the best place for research or specialisation, bringing a new generation of mages through basic training before a path in whichever element was their natural match. Though it had been some time since anyone had found ruby fire, they held their solstice parties to show their devotion, and the towns generally ensured enough donations that there was a good feast for everyone.

None of which solved Zoe’s immediate problem of being so incredibly bored that was she willingly stomping up the grass hill, going to speak to Master Simeon - the eccentric head of her department. An ageless mage, Zoe suspected he’d been playing with things he shouldn’t have long before any of them set foot over the old stone threshold, but he was the best source of information about many esoteric matters so his unconventional circumstances could be indulged.

Her calves bit at the steepening gradient, the flat top that the principal school sat on flanked by a sharp-angled last push of the hill. If she’d taken the path, as one was supposed to, she’d have a meandering wander up the hill which wouldn’t mean her legs were tight and screaming, but she didn’t want to stay out in the sunshine longer than necessary. Her hair was already damp with it, sagging against her neck despite the braid she sported, and if she’d been one of the paler girls she would have burned by now, so she didn’t plan on risking it.

Nearly jogging by the time she reached the main building, her shoulders sagged as she stepped through the great stone doors and into the shadows. She lingered in the entrance hall for a moment, closing her eyes so she could get used to the dimmer light. When she opened them again, she’d see the intricately tiled seal of the academy, the white stag and his red flames, the background a midnight blue like their robes, to accentuate the contrast.

When she’d first started at the academy she’d become a little obsessed with the legend, hoping she was special enough to draw the god out again. To be blessed with a visit from a god, even a small god, would be a true sign of exceptionalism, the sort of thing that set mages apart from their class of equally talented and ambitious peers.

Once she knew her path was with water, it seemed unlikely. The forest god would favour earth, or fire given his flaming crown, and when she’d taken the name for the true path in choosing ‘de Mer’ rather than Wild, she’d tucked away her ambitions for a godly encounter away. She would prove herself exceptional in other ways.

Opening her eyes again, she smiled down at the closed mouth god before her boots, the dark eyes beady as any forest creature should be. Someone had really excelled at this craft, a totally different skill to magic, and it was a weak practitioner who didn’t recognise both.

With a shake of her head, she shouldered her bag, setting off for the elder’s library. Simeon hadn’t specified which but he would be there, pouring over his texts like reviewing them for the thousandth time would let him scry something he hadn’t in the last lifetime.

The elder library was at least somewhat exclusive, even in the summer break, meaning it should just be them to have whatever discussion this was. Maybe a talk about her next project? She hadn’t been asked to attend any of the nearby towns in a week or so, despite the continuing heat, and other than refilling some of the dying lakes, there was little else she could do. The wells were topped up as often as the coin came and she was willing to add a little extra when she could – ice in the bottom to keep the water cool, or a few buckets for children on the side. Perhaps someone had reported her dallying with the ice, not realising it was technically more than she should do.

It might be nothing so severe. Simeon got little fixations from time to time, looped around a hypothesis like a snake looking for the best point to strike. He might need her help testing a theory.

None of this musing would get her answers, so she picked up her pace, not passing anyone in the wide halls. She knocked before she went in, not waiting for a reply.

The library was mercifully cool, the high windows open to encourage the air to circulate amongst the stacks. It was more like an actuary’s office than a traditional library – smaller than the main one but no less well stocked – with bookshelves and stacks arranged like dominos ready for one good, solid push. Zoe had never given into the impulse yet, but it was a temptation some days just to get some excitement.

She weaved between the waiting books, searching for Simeon in the back where the larger research tables sat. As expected, he was perched on a low, broad chair drawn up close to the table's edge, the wooden back keeping his sagging form in place.

The first time a new initiate saw Simeon was usually a good indicator of how they’d take to the academy. If they tried to punch him, they’d be repeating the first year at least once: it was too base a response. If they shrieked and tried to banish him, they’d get an admonishment, but an eye kept on them for displaying the natural talent. The small bundle who tried to categorise him, using magic to test his composition, would either be expelled or accelerated, depending on the methods used. Only one chap had tried to take a sample and he’d been better off in monster handling anyway, she’d heard he was working on a labyrinth for some godlings last time she cared to listen.

A side effect of some deep magic none of them were stupid enough to ask about, Simeon had once been human, though now he was best described as malleable. His form most commonly looked male, and when he was focused, he seemed like a slightly too tall human shadow moving independently, an escapee from a body left somewhere in his wake. Once he relaxed or got distracted by other magic he began to sag, pooling at the bottom of himself like a melting candle. He was sufficiently viscous, or his robes appropriately adjusted, that he never seemed to spill, per se, but there was a trembling uncertainty about his shape that could be distracting for the first few years. She’d found looking at his face was the best distraction; it melted less obviously, giving the eye time to get used to the drooping before it made an unprepared mind panic.

Zoe cleared her throat as she approached, a warning to let him regroup if he wished. “You wanted to speak?”

“Yes, my dear, come and perch.” He tapped the table edge, and she did as instructed, leaning her weight against the table so she just rested against it, the wood firm at the back of her thighs. “I wanted to speak to you about tonight.”

“The festival?”

“Just so.” He nodded, face wobbling lightly after the motion stopped. “I must ask you a favour in relation to the same.”

Zoe’s stomach flipped on itself like a cat with a rat, toying before the killing blow. Her mind leapt between options – it was being called off due to the lack of company; something terrible had happened to the visiting parties; the academy didn’t want her to go and embarrass them with her limited water skills. “What is it?”

“We’re in rather a pickle. The other party has sent an unexpected guest, someone we should entertain in the usual academy standards, but with little warning. Terribly bad form but these things can happen. Given we’re lacking in the usual gregarious classes, and I’m more likely to confuse them than anything else, would you mind playing host for us? Just until the moon rising, of course.”

“Of course,” she repeated, like it would make more sense the second time. “Simeon, I’m not a good example of the academy. Shouldn’t it be one of the tutors who can show off a bit more?”

“You could show off as well, if you wanted to. I know some of the trick you’ve been managing, they’re very impressive works, even if some in the academy would find them too ambitious. As such, I think showing just how cool and level-headed we can be, evidence that there’s more than our icy reputation, yes?” He raised what might have been eyebrows at her. “I’ve left something in your accommodations to assist. And it’s only for a few hours until the fires can be started, you’ll do fine. Get them talking about themselves, that’s always a good trick. Oh, but not in a way that seems like you’re trying to study them. That would seem aggressive. You’ll figure it out!”

That last part seemed to indicate there was no actual choice in this suggestion, it was a task. Well, she could entertain for a short while, she’d done so before with visiting mages. That was part of being conscientious with visiting academies, this wouldn’t be so different, surely? “Two questions. Who are they, and can I get express permission to use my ice?”

“They’re a delegation from the other realms, just a handful of them.” Zoe’s eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open despite herself. Simeon carried on before she could draw breath. “And yes, do your best with that naughty little trick of yours. If I’m sufficiently impressed, I’ll make sure you get into Leodora’s research team next year.”

That stopped Zoe in her tracks, the dropping of Leodora’s name so tempting it was practically a bribe. Leodora was the peak mage in the academy, places on her research team were booked at least a year in advance – Zoe was too soon in her research topic to even look at applying. “How?”

“She dropped the pot on this solstice, forget to check the lunar calendar. We should have a full student body for the celebrations, but here we are with the musty old tutors and my favourite renegade student.”

Heat flared in her cheeks, the summer sun no match for her embarrassment. He must have noticed her doing it in one of the recent towns, or she wasn’t as good at blending the energy signatures as she thought she was. “I’m hardly that, I just noticed how easy it was. Others would if they paid attention.”

“But they don’t, and you did. That’s no bad thing. As you might appreciate, I have a soft spot for those willing to approach old techniques with fresh eyes.” He grinned at her, a little gap where teeth should flash opening in his thick form. “Now, chin up and get on with it. Leodora will be delighted to have you next year if you pull her lovely rear out of the fire. Think how much sooner you could get your teeth into something new with her vouching for you.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.” Zoe nodded, bringing her brightest smile up. If she went to her accommodation now, she could find what he’d left for her and get a couple of hours in to think of what she could do to be impressive enough to get that spot.

~

The woods were not the best conditions to practise in, Zoe should be up in the tower, but her ambitions would not fit in the research room right now. The clearing was not a perfect spot either, but it was enough for her to work on the shaky plan she had in peace, in the scant few hours she had before the delegation would arrive.

Simeon’s grand assistance plan had been a mask, the sort worn at carnivals, which hid the upper part of her face with a pretty, almost doll-like style. The painted eyeliner was intricate as spiderwebs, and the cheeks had a high pink rogue on them that was so unlike her own skin it was genuinely transformative. If she kept her hair down rather than in its usual braid, and kept their ceremonial robe on, a white so bright it was almost silver, then she’d look like she was in costume.

That meant, other than Simeon, the other tutors could mistake her for someone new, such as a mage hired in for cover, given the lack of students. If any of them were inclined to ask questions. Given she was helping protect them from embarrassment she’d hope that natural inclination to shut up won through, but she didn’t know who Simeon had told his tenuous plan.

Speaking of such plans….

Before her the life-sized shape of a stag twisted itself into life, the ice swirling and climbing into muscled legs, then a body, taught like it was just about to sprint. Zoe wasn’t exactly artistic but she was very visual, a trait that lent itself to her current project – an ice statue of the forest god, dripping water rather than fire. She couldn’t help that part; she had no skill in fire and her statue would melt a damn sight quicker if she tried any real flame work. As such, they’d have to make do with the substitute, and the way she’d spun air bubbles into the water so the ice shone white, as close to the god as she could manage in such short time.

If she could get it right at this size first, she could do a larger one, big enough to have the antlers filling the clearing they would party in, and that was a showstopper. Since the god hadn’t come to her, she could make her own version and bask in their wonder.

It had been kind of Simeon to ensure she could hide her face. Not that she was ashamed of her work – far from it! – but there was a risk it could make her a target for disapproval. Elemental blending wasn’t exactly forbidden, they couldn’t ban what nature did without a thought, but there was a protective aspect to the old alchemists. Blending air and water might be considered a little too close to their areas of practice, and Simeon was a living example of why that must be done carefully.

“Which is bollocks,” she muttered, twisting her wrist to direct the ice towards the long throat, shaggy fur curling and waving like upbraided hair let loose of its bindings. “Just because I found a way to do it well.”

“Do what?” A voice behind her made her shriek, spinning around with a hand up to pause her work. A man was leaning against a thick pine behind her: tall and broad as a Shire horse, he was deeply tanned and had curly, bouncing black hair that sat long against his shoulders. Violet bright eyes twinkled at her, and he inclined his head in greeting. He wore a deep red waistcoat with nothing underneath except some charm necklaces, the stones and trinkets winking in the forest light, which must have been done to show off his chest because he defined as marble, his chest and stomach like a statue in the great halls.

Eyeing that brought her eyes lower where she found his legs were not those of a normal man – where there should be trews, thick black fur started to fuzz at his hips, just as curly as that atop his head. The hair led down to thick thighs, then knees that bent the wrong way, backwards like a goat, and tapered down to firm hooves. Well, that explained how he snuck up on her, at least.

“Well met, sir, I don’t believe I know your name. Might I have it?” Zoe pulled herself up from her almost crouch, smoothing her robes down as she stepped forward to greet the fae creature in front of her.

He pushed off the tree and took her offered hand, twisting it up so he could press a kiss to the back of it. “You don’t need to be so formal, mistress mage. I’m Caleb of the Autum Court. An envoy for the party.”

She pulled her hand back, not too quick, but enough to be clear. The heat in her face must be the afternoon sunlight. “You’re early, I fear. The preparations are still ongoing.”

“That’s fine. My lord prefers me early to ensure there’s no risk of me missing something.” He winked, pulling to his full height to give a flourishing bow. He was a good head taller than her when he stretch those legs, and though he was clearly playing friendly, Zoe couldn’t help but be aware of how quickly he’d be able to run with that stride. “And your name?”

“You may call me Zoe Wild.” Using an old name around the fae was almost polite, not so dangerous as a full one, but still showing a level of trust.

“Charming, thank you. Is that Magnus you’re crafting behind you?”

“Pardon?”

“The stag?” He pointed to her statue, still slowly coming together behind her now she was more relaxed. “He’s your emblem, isn’t he?”

“The forest god, yes. What did you call him?”

“Magnus Morningson, god of the forest and good omen to men. He’s quite the nobleman with us, no wonder you all took to him so well.” Caleb tilted his head, looking over the statue. “Ice?”

“Yes.”

He let out a long whistle, grinning at her like she’d shared a secret. “How clever. I thought this place was much too stuffy for some blending.”

“We’re supposed to be, but I got told to show off, so I intend to.” She bit the inside of her lip, turning away from Caleb so he didn’t see her expression. That was a terrible reason to say she was doing this work; it should be a devotional piece.

“I think I could enjoy seeing you show off, wild one. May I?” The heat of Caleb’s body was at her back, her heart thumping hard as his heat leaked through her robes as he dipped and caught her wrist, guiding her hand as she crafted the join of the antlers. “You’re very close here. It just needs a little more wildness in the antlers. I know humans like your clean lines, but his crown is brambles and tumbles, the proper chaos of nature. You see it, here?” He let go to point at a piece that was almost a looping knot, catching her hand again when she nodded.

The ice twirled and danced in the deepening sunlight, unfurling like a flower in the morning dew, and with a waft of rose petals, it was done. Caleb had been right – this version was more godly, the antlers a true crown for the king of the forest. It almost looked like it would blink and spring away from them, and Zoe realised she was holding her breath lest she startle it. “That does look much better, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. It’s a delight to see a friend made with such skill. Are you an artist as well as a mage?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, almost laughing. “I’ve no skill like that. I’m just very good at remembering things. I can see them clearly in my head even after just once glance, was always able to, even as a child. That’s what got me sent here, remembering the signs and seals from books left at the home.”

“Ah, a true wild one? I thought you were just hiding your family.” Caleb stepped back, still holding her wrist so he could turn her to face him. “Have you seen him, then?”

“Never. I wanted to, especially as an initiate, but there was never any red fire for me. I’ve read all the stories about him though, and as you say, it’s our emblem, so it’s not as if I haven’t seen enough pictures.” This was a collage of those images made into something more eye-catching, but with his help, it had become rather lovely. Pride glowed deep in her chest at the fact it still hadn’t started dripping, though there was no fire nearby yet.

Caleb hummed in thought, nodding a little. “He’d like it. Will you be making another for the party?”

“A bigger one, yes. I want more than life-sized, something that will really wow before the festival fires start and everyone’s either drunk or dancing.”

“And which will you be doing, mistress mage?” When he smiled, Zoe saw he had both sets of teeth like a man, rather than just the lower set like a goat should, and it caught her so off guard she faltered.

“Pardon?”

“Dancing, or drinking?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Maybe a little of both. I don’t tend to stay too long at the parties, but they bring the best mead out for it, made with local honey. You can taste the sunshine in it.”

“I’ll make a note to try some, then. Why don’t you like my teeth?”

Heat flared in her face and she dropped her gaze, shaking her head. “They’re not like a goat’s. It caught me by surprise.”

Caleb laughed like a ringing bell, loud and bright in the small space between them. “Have you not met a satyr before, sweetness?”

She burned harder at the pet name, willing the forest to swallow her whole, but that wouldn’t happen with a fae in front of her. “No, sir. It’s my first time as envoy and the tutors would usually greet you first. I might be in trouble for being so social with you without the proper introductions.”

“Well, if any of them try that, send them my way.” He caught a crooked finger under her chin, bringing her gaze up that ridiculous chest until she met his gaze. “I’d ask for a demonstration just to see you do it again. It’s so rare I get to see a human working magic that isn’t hunting for a bargain or after spell ingredients.”

Zoe couldn’t help the brow that quirked up at that, her mind trying to make it make sense. “You’re a forest dweller, though. Why don’t they just approach you? Summoning you into a household would be like grabbing a fish from the river to talk to it.”

Caleb tipped his head back to laugh again, catching her hand in his so they were close. “You try telling them that. Sometimes it’s something innocent, a fertility spell that’s gone a little awry, but I get plenty demanding to know where the treasure of the ancients is buried or where the knowledge of some long-dead king got hidden. Like it hadn’t all been eaten by the earth long since.” He looked back at her and the purple of his eyes seemed to glow, a cold light like lightning far off in a storm. “Mind, though, I can be quite generous when I’m in the mood to be.”

“I wouldn’t presume to know your moods, sir.”

“Drop the sir, you’ll make me feel old.”

She nearly rolled her eyes, leaning in to tease him just a little. “You’re older than me, I suspect.”

“And what age are you?”

“Twenty summers, just passed.”

“Never!” He dropped her wrist, leaning down to blink at her face. “You’re so skilled for a sapling.”

“I work hard at it.” It didn’t feel like a weakness to admit that to him, not in the way it would be to some others in her school. She worked hard to get where she was and she’d work harder when she was in Leodora’s team, get herself enough distinction to get a job in the city if she could.

“So I can see.” The twinkle came back to his eyes. “I can feel some of my brethren approaching, so I must go corral them before they start some mischief. Find me at the party, won’t you? I’d like to hear more about your ice, it’s very impressive.”

Zoe nodded, ducking into a curtsey when she remembered herself. “I’ll look forward to seeing you there.”

~

The assembly from the fae court was positively intimate, smaller than most years to such an extent that Zoe wondered if they’d also been caught short with the calendar and just sent who they had.

Not that she voiced that, staying silent through her demonstration and allowing Simeon to do the introduction. She wasn’t named, and with the mask settled gently against her face, she knew only a handful of anyone there would recognise her.

The statue had been just as she wished – almost the size of a building this time, she drew the god from the ground up, his legs as tall as a man, this body the same, and the carefully entangled the antlers embracing the trees around the edge of the clearing so there was something to keep the shape upright as it melted later in the evening.

The crowd erupted into a round of applause as the last parts formed, a dusting of rose scent flushing over the clearing as she finished, and Zoe smiled at the statue despite the fact she could drop where she stood. The magic was good – strong – but she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was totally drained.

“A true marvel, thank you, my friend.” Simeon came beside her, clapping his too soft hands, and turned to look over his shoulder. “A fantastic likeness.”

“Almost,” someone called out, and with a loud snap of their fingers, a blossom of red flames erupted in the antlers. Zoe’s heart leapt into her throat, fear for her work warring with sheer fury that someone would interfere with her piece, but Simeon burst into laughter.

“A fae-fire blessing! I must thank you, kind guests. What stronger approval could we have other than a visit from the god himself?” He clapped Zoe on her shoulder and she gave a little bow, showing thanks, before letting him tug her away towards the feast tables. “Are you alright?”

“I need to eat.”

“Oh, of course. Well, you can eat with the mask on, so feel free to indulge. No one knows it’s you, so don’t worry about taking seconds.” He wobbled in his enthusiasm and she couldn’t help but laugh, his joy infectious.

“Fine, I’ll get some food shortly. Was that enough to be impressive?”

“More than. No one else’s managed to invoke fae-fire. Leodora will be snapping your hand off to find out how you got that.”

“As long as I get my food first, I won’t tell her anything if I faint.”

He waved her away, going to mingle with the guests as the music started up, and she fell upon the feast table. Loading a plate with as much as she could reasonably get her hands on, she took a selection of fruits and cooked meats, a few little squares of sweetbread as well. There was plenty, even with the party underway the cooks had excelled themselves, and she picked up a glass of mead as well before she retreated to the edge of the clearing.

The fires were already going – slightly deeper into the space than usual to lengthen the life of her sculpture, and she lingered with her back against the bark, watching the crowd. Most everyone seemed to know the others, waves and familiar smiles flashing like fireflies, and though she was busy pretending not to be herself, it made her feel a touch lonely. At least with the other students she had the familiarity of proximity, rubbing along together in studied made acquaintances at least. Some friends. However, there was a reason for her pretending, and it didn’t do to be maudlin.

She didn’t need to stay much longer anyway, but it wouldn’t do to slink away from the party when the musicians had just begun. That was too rude. Instead, she could sip her mead and finish her plate, maybe grab another depending how she felt, then make her retreat. Maybe a second mead as well, it was excellent this year.

“Might I join you, pretty mage?” Caleb materialised from the shadows beside her, leaning against the tree as well. His waistcoat was a rich purple now, like a fresh plum, and two small horns poked from the curls atop his head, perfectly nestled like they were always there. They were like goat horns, just a finger length of them emerging out and showing bright white against his hair. There was also a very proud erection, pointing up like it was seeking the north star, which Zoe immediately diverted her eyes from. He’d either been glamouring earlier, or this was his more formal appearance, but it was a good look on him, so long as she kept her eyes above his waist.

“Well met, sir.” Zoe inclined her head in welcome. 

“I told you to drop that.” He leaned more weight against the tree, stealing a small square of sweetbread from her plate, the second last part. She’d inhaled that food, but was it any wonder? 

“I don’t know that I’ve met you before?” She couldn’t help the tease to her voice, tapping the mask lightly to highlight she was busy not being herself. 

His eyes lit up in amusement, nodding that he understood her play. “Oh, apologies, my mistake. I found such a lovely thing in the woods earlier, practicing making a statue that looked similar. I was very impressed both times.”

Zoe could concede to his attempt: there was no harm in being familiar with someone she’d never meet again. She sipped her mead, smiling at him. “Do I have you to thank for the fae-fire?”

“No, that was a cousin of Magnus who appreciated the art. He’s one of the band.” Caleb pointed to the musicians, a jolly bunch of elves and other sorts who were playing mostly recognisable instruments, to a single white horse. There was a bodhrán in the dripping hands of what might be a kelpie, Zoe wasn’t entirely certain, the wet mane drooping over its face to hide the inevitable teeth.

“That was very kind of him. I’m honoured.”

He held a hand out, dipping low to whisper near her mask, “Will you dance with me, wild mage?”

“I’m not so wild anymore, Caleb of the Autumn Court.” He must know that, to understand why she was side-stepping.

“The one I met in the woods wasn’t, indeed.” He chuckled, running his large fingers down the side of her arm, his body even hotter in the cooling evening air. “But you’re different, aren’t you? No one here knows who could be under the mask. Other than the gelatinous man, but who trusts an alchemist who made himself into advanced goo?”

She giggled, face hot under the mask as she knocked the rest of her glass back, setting it beside the tree for later. “I think I should dance with you just to keep you out of trouble.”

“It takes a lot to do that.” His eyes glowed like gems in candlelight, and she was taking his hand, letting him walk her out past the musicians and to the little crowd who’d already began dancing.

“Do all satyrs like to dance?” She asked as he brought her close again, chest to chest now, his hand at the base of her back. He could move it to her hip, she would let him, just to feel the weight of it there. Might have drunk that mead too quickly.

“We do. All the fae like it, of course. That’s why there're fairy circles and musicians, but the men of the woods have a particular enjoyment of it.”

“Do you know the traditional dances?”

“What’s tradition for you will be new for us, but show me.” He lifted her hand, so they were like any other couple, and Zoe was aware all over again how tall he was compared to her: his chin level with her eyes, his waistcoat open to show that muscular chest. She looked back up to his eyes, stomach suddenly fluttering nervously, and set her shoulders. “Follow my lead, then.”

She took him through some of the common dances, adjusting them as the fae band changed songs or switched tempos, and two rounds in they were laughing together, his hooves never clipping her toes, her hands always finding his as they twirled or switched.

They were the brightest star in the crowd, swinging around the edges like a drunken comet, though never catching another couple. Even other band gave them a little flourish, a fiddler leaning forward on his too long deer legs to do a ditty that Caleb almost sword danced too, his legs just a little too inflexible, and Zoe took up where he couldn’t, the moves switching back and forth between them like a spell bouncing between magics.

They retreated from the floor when that was done to cheers from the band and a hearty applause from the crowd, even the humans impressed, and he passed her a fresh glass of mead as they sank against a new tree.

“You’re fabulous at that. Do you do that for the court?” Zoe was almost panting, gratefully gulping some of the mead and wafting the top of her robes to cool herself down.

“No, but I’m always the first one to start a party, so I should be good at it.” Caleb laughed, producing a wine bottle from somewhere in his waistcoat with a little flourish of magic. He popped the resealable cap, taking a couple of deep swigs. “You’re not so bad yourself. Where’s that been hiding?”

She waved a hand at him, eyes casting about the crowd. “We all learn to dance at the academy. It’s part of being a good host and guest.”

“None of them have been anything like as much fun as you and I show up every year, damn near.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you.” Not that she stayed around to do so, to be fair.

“I’d certainly remember if I’d seen you.” He grinned at her, taking another swig of his wine. “I must have missed a few, for I’m certain I’d have noticed such nice hair in the crowd.”

“Most people aren’t keen.” She twirled a finger through her hair, letting the strands fall in thick rows between her fingers. “They find it a bit spooky, being silvery. Like a fish, or something in the dark.”

“And what if I like things in the dark?” He shifted closer to her, catching the end of her hair as she slipped her fingers free. “It looks like spun moonlight, or spiderwebs with frost on them.”

“You’re too kind.” She flushed under her mask, knowing it wasn’t the mead because she’d certainly worked that through with all the dancing.

“No kinder than I ought to be. The fair folk know a bonny thing when they see it.” He was so close she could see his eyelashes were the same colour as the dark fur on his legs, his face angled so he could look at her. The warmth from his skin was so much nicer than the burning in her cheeks, and she closed the distance between them without thinking, her lips meeting his.

He tasted like brambles and the sweetness of apples just on the start of going wizened, all the sweetness pulling together so much nicer than the mead. He was autumn on her lips, the crispness of a night just turning to frost, and so intoxicating she dropped her glass.

The thump of it landing at her feet broke the spell of her confidence, and she pulled back so she bumped into the tree. Her mind screamed that she was still at the party, where people could still see this, and this was an envoy event where one was not supposed to cause diplomatic incidents by making out with the other guests.

Caleb growled low in his chest, catching her hand in his as he stepped closer, crowding her against the tree. The bark was cold at her back, a reminder of where they stood at the edge of the forest and the party, halfway into each. No one could see her around his broad chest, at least, though her legs would be obvious in the robe. “I’d like to do that again.”

“We shouldn’t, with the party?” She hadn’t meant it to be a question, like she was asking permission rather than reminding him of their mutual positions, but he just laughed.

“My lord won’t care a whit, and they’re all much too busy drinking and dancing to notice us here.” He ran a thumb over her lower lip and she leaned into the contact, into his heat, her free hand fisting into his waistcoat to keep him close. Gods, she wanted this part, too. 

Pressing forward again, she went higher on her toes and caught his lips, letting go of his waistcoat so she could snake her arm up and hook it around his neck, pull him down to meet her. He sighed into the kiss, letting go of her hand to grip her hip, squeeze it like she’d wanted him to when they were dancing, and she pressed closer to him.

His tongue flicked along her lips, asking for entrance. She opened for him, deepening the kiss as he reached down and picked her up, hands grabbing her thighs like she was nothing but air. She gasped as he set her so carefully against the tree so the bark didn’t bite through her robes, his weight pinning her and his hands keeping a firm hold at the back of her legs. Long fingers flexed, gripping and stroking her thighs, teasing her robes higher as she let a slight moan out.

“You make such pretty sounds, just like the rest of you,” he murmured between their kisses, licking a hot stripe along her neck before he dipped to kiss and nip at the skin. “I want to see all of you.”

Zoe made a little noise of disapproval, shaking her head. “People will see.”

“They don’t have to.” Caleb shifted his mouth higher, whispering in her ear. “I could make a glamour to look like we’re just talking, turn all of them away. Or.” He switched to the other side of her face, pecking a kiss to her lips as he crossed over. “We could give them more of a show than they’re ready for. Imagine how delicious you’d look, naked of everything except that little mask, my cock fucking into you so deep. How jealous every one of them would be that they’re not fucking you. How needy and greedy they’d all be? All that pure, potent energy, just what the gods want. How better to celebrate the solstice than showing a proper celebration?”

A thrill of heat curled through Zoe, burning up from her hips right through her stomach and chest, flushing up her throat. It was so tempting to let him, feel the real pull of the wild in every part of her. The idea lingered, fizzing, though she couldn’t escape where they were. “I can’t. I study here.”

“No one but your tutor knows that, and he’s not going to stop us. You think that old mould cares what we do as long as relationships stay good?” Caleb dipped lower, tugging her robe down so he could nibble at her collarbone, and she twitched in his hold, her hips tight in his grip.

She knew she shouldn’t, that it would be the talk of the academy. But if they thought she was a hired mage, and if getting a fae-fire was enough to ensure she would get in with Leodora, who could fault her for indulging in the festivities? It wasn’t like it was unknown to happen. “Alright but make sure my mask stays on, yes?”

“Whatever you want, pretty thing.” He came back to kissing her lips, hands working the robe higher and higher as he pressed her harder into the tree, stealing her breath with each greedy press of his lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Where have they been hiding you that I didn’t see you before?”

“In the tower, mostly,” Zoe said mindlessly, scratching along his back when he nipped her lip with his lower teeth.

“Like a princess locked away, how wicked. Are you wearing anything under those robes?”

“Just my slip and underwear.” It had been too warm for anything more in the afternoon and she’d planned to be away before the evening turned chill, so it seemed fine to be so scandalous below.

“Are you attached to either of them?” Caleb kissed a trail down her cheek and lower, mouthing over her neck to nip her pulse point. She moaned loudly, thighs squeezing around him as he worried it a little, certainly enough to leave a mark. “Oh, do you like biting?”

“Yes,” she whispered, rocking her hips against him to get something to ease the ache simmering in her. “And no, I don’t care about the slip. Tear it up if you want to, but leave my robe in one piece.”

“As you wish.” He chuckled, holding her in place with one hand as he peeled the robe up her body, skimming it over her hips and back with ease and leaning back so she could slip her arms free. The night air made her erupt in goosebumps and she pressed close to him again, soaking in the warmth of his chest as he draped the robe carefully over a higher branch. Her slip was a simple thing, robin egg blue as that showed off her hair, and she wasn’t sad when she heard it tearing away from her, discarded below with the pieces of her underwear following immediately after.

Caleb rocked back a half step, taking her in with an appreciative whistle. “You’re more of a feast than anything they have on those tables. I’d fuck you there if I thought we could get away with knocking the food out of the way.”

Zoe opened her mouth to reply, but he dipped to lick at her breasts, rough tongue lapping at first one nipple then the next, alternating between them as she wriggled in his grip. His free hand gently nudged her thighs further apart, encouraging her left leg up against her chest so she was bare and open for him.

Embarrassment warred with desire in her chest: she could feel how wet she was already, almost leaking for him, though she knew she could make some attempt to cover up. She couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had noticed, was watching them with their own under things growing tight, or if everyone was distracted by their own little bubbles of company.

Such musing was knocked away as Caleb’s thumb inched higher, teasing along the seam of her opening to gather some of that wetness and use to it slip up, circling her clit. She moaned openly now, gripping his horns for purchase as he continued to play with her breasts. They were almost silky, the ribbed texture making her want to run her thumbs along them, tease just the hint of a curl at the deepest point where they connected to his skull. 

“You’re so wet for me, sweet thing. Did you like the look of me this afternoon?” His voice rolled through her like thunder as he kept an even pace, teasing her higher with the occasional flick of the broad pad of his thumb.

“Fuck.” She hissed, gripping him harder with her legs. “Yes, I did. When you could see what I was doing and knew how to make it better. And feeling you at my back, it was nice.”

“You’re more than nice.” He adjusted the angle of his hand, slipping one thick finger into her leaking heat. He slipped into her easily, the length making her sigh happily. “I didn’t know if I’d get to see you again properly, but I wanted to. All that spark in you is like sunshine on the water.”

He pumped his finger in and out of her, adding another to give an easy stretch to her walls, and she rocked in his grip, meeting the thrust of his fingers while he kept playing with her clit. “Fuck, you feel good. Wanna feel more of you, too.”

“You will, you will. I just need to make sure you’re nice and relaxed. Us satyrs take a little getting used to.”

Zoe meant to raise an eyebrow at him, but his fingers brushed the point within her that sent stars shooting behind her eyes and she cried out, chasing the touch more. “There, please, more there.”

“Just as you want, my sweet.” He stood higher, keeping her up against the tree with one hand under her thighs while the other sped up, flicking her clit back and forth as his fingers plunged into her.

Kissing her still, he kept a thorough pace as she climbed higher and higher to her peak, the knot in her stomach tightening until she felt like she would snap in two when she finally came, would shatter and fall to the ground like the torn slip. Caleb pulled back, panting near her ear. “I can feel you’re close. Come for me, wild one.”

That was all it took to send her up, body thrashing in his grip as she came apart around him, core clamping around his fingers as her juices came rushing out of her, soaking his hand. “Fuck, oh ye gods.”

Caleb kissed her, sliding his fingers lazily until she squirmed in oversensitivity. He pulled them out, watching her face as he licked them clean, and she groaned, squeezing her thighs against his hips again. He just smirked at her, teeth almost looking sharp in the twilight.

“You look amazing when you come apart like that, pretty mage. I want to take my end as well. I’m hard as granite for you.” He guided one of her hands to his leaking tip and Zoe’s eyes popped wide at how thick he was in her palm, the beading fluid molten to her touch. “Can you go another round?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “You might need to go slow at first. You’re bigger than a man.”

He gave an almost apologetic shrug, though the grin on his face was anything but. “We’re known for it, I’m afraid. Music and sex is what we do.”

She nodded, arching her back in encouragement. “Here, or the table?”

He glanced over at the feast table and as he turned Zoe saw there were glowing eyes on them – fae then, probably – some openly touching themselves, some licking their lips in exaggerated enjoyment. Pride flooded her, the eager eyes making her want Caleb in her all the more, and she caught his chin to bring his gaze back to her, leaning forward to kiss him again, running her nails over the edge of his jaw.

“We already have an audience, so let’s stay here, yes?” she whispered, nodding to the eyes.

Caleb glanced around, chuckling a little as he saw their admirers. “Best give them a proper show then, no?”

Zoe nodded, flexing her back again so she could encourage him on. He didn’t waste any time, nudging her arms up to his shoulders so she could settle her elbows on his shoulders. He took a grip of her hips again, shifting her down a little so he could open her thighs wider and tease his throbbing tip over her slit. It was still wet from her climax, giving an easy glide as he worked over her clit carefully, smearing his own leaking come over her as well. He was sharper tipped than a man, the unfamiliar sensation making her breath slow and even to savour it, before he pressed in.

It was a tight stretch, making Zoe suck a breath in, trying to relax. Caleb teased it a couple of times, pressing just the thick tip in and then sliding out again, circling her entrance to gather more wetness, letting her grow used to the girth before he began to press deeper.

Zoe cried out as he started to lower her down, rolling her hips to ease the light burn of his stretching her, fucking herself slowly down his length. He was easily as thick as three fingers, maybe four. She’d never experimented with that many solo, and his cock had a weight that pressed all around her in ways she’d never felt in her life. “Fuck, Caleb, you’re so hot inside me.” 

She was nearly gasping as he finally settled as deep as he could, shuddering as he set his head against the tree, his horns scoring lines out of the bark. “You feel like you were made for me. So fucking tight around me, sweet thing, you feel amazing.”

Zoe tightened around him experimentally, breath catching in her throat as his cock flexed in response, rubbing hard against the sweet spot within her. “You can move.”

“I’m going to move you. It’ll be safer. Yes?”

Zoe couldn’t make words work, just nodding as she rocked her hips again, tested the feeling of rolling him just a bit more so he brushed against the deepest point in her. She couldn’t risk much more, the sharpness of his shape meant she could only risk him bumping there. Any more would surely hurt, but it was exciting to feel him somewhere no one else had been.

Caleb gripped her hips a little tighter, ensuring he had a good hold of her, and a brief part of her wondered if she’d have bruises from his grip tomorrow. She wanted to, to have some lingering evidence of the overwhelming delight that she could look on for days. He pecked another kiss to her lips before he slowly lifted her, the drag of him against her inner walls making her grab for his horns to anchor herself, and he held her at the apex of their joining for a long moment, breathing in the scent of her hair and neck.

With a shaky breath, he lowered her down again, the slide easier this time, and he set a slow tempo, bouncing her on his length slowly at first. Zoe groaned into his neck, daring to open her eyes when he paused again. More than the fae were watching now: not everyone, the party was still going on, but humans stood with hungry expressions, lips parted and hands in their robes like that obscured what they were doing.

“They’re all watching how amazing you look taking my cock, you know?” Caleb whispered, rocking his cock up into her without letting her sink onto it fully. “They can hear how much you’re enjoying it and every one of them fucking wishes it was them doing this with you.”

Zoe tightened around him at that and he almost lost his pace, having to grab the tree trunk to keep them level and his rhythm going. “Want to make you come too.”

“You’re going to, sweet thing. I’m already close from how hard you’re squeezing me.” He sank her back down onto him, grip tightening so he could speed up and move her faster, her grip on his horns all that was keeping her from going mad with how good he felt driving up against her insides.

“Me too, gonna come again.” She muttered it in a rushed slur, her eyes fluttering shut as he pulled her tight onto him, grinding her against his hips to crush her clit against his hips, work her harder against him like he was chasing a secret in her joining.

Each circling of his legs brought her closer again, the press of his soft fuzz against her mound and the pressure it added to her clit making her babble and scratch at him as she was stunned at the sudden rush of pleasure.  

“That’s it, wild thing, come again for me, I’m so close.” He pumped his hips hard into her, pressing her back against the tree again so he could get a grip at the back and piston his hips into hers, chasing his peak as she came shuddering around him again. All her muscles tensed like she’d been struck by lightning, all the tension pouring out from her as the knot in her stomach drew together and snapped, and she nearly screamed with how suddenly it rushed upon and through her.

Caleb groaned, his thrusts becoming deep grinding again as his hips stuttered, then he was kissing her, thick thighs flexing as he buried his cock as fully as he could. Heat flooded between her hips, squelching as he kept rocking himself into her, drawing her gently from the tree to rest against his chest. Gently, he tucked her into his waistcoat, covering her breasts from anyone who might see them turn, and rested his back against the tree instead.

“You were amazing. You feel amazing, even now, still gripping onto me.” Zoe mumbled something positive in turn, still hold of one of his horns as she drifted in and out of what could be sleep. Caleb reached up, grabbing her robe and slipping it around her shoulders. “Rest for now, pretty thing.”

~

The sunlight spilling onto her face informed Zoe it was probably at least midmorning, if not closer to midday, and she screwed her eyes closed for a few heartbeats before she wiped her hands over her face, wakening herself properly.

Sitting up, she found herself in her accommodation, the curtains left open, and glanced about.

“Good morning.” A voice rang out, and she screamed, flinging a wave of cold water in the direction it came from. The water landed with a flat slap, and blinking Zoe saw Simeon was perched on one of her chairs, bigger by however much water she’d tossed his way. Like a sponge.

“What are you doing in my room? How did you get in?”

“I was waiting for you, and I came under the door. There’s quite a gap there. I didn’t realise how easy it would be, quite honestly.” His shadowed face glanced to her still closed door and the inch deep gap at the bottom she had to stop up with blankets in the winter.

“That’s a little creepy, Simeon. You couldn’t just knock?”

“I thought you’d need your sleep and mostly everyone’s still in bed nursing a hangover. I didn’t mind waiting.” 

Zoe nodded like this was reasonable, grateful whoever had put her to bed made sure she was still in her robes. Or back in them, to be precise. The memories of the night before came flooding back, and she dropped her head in her hands, face burning. “Are you here to kick me out for what happened?”

“With Caleb? Not at all!” Simeon laughed like a drain, a burbling, wet sound, her water sloshing around in him. “That was a fantastic show you both put on. The humans won’t remember it, whatever the fae did to the mead will blanket that out. All they’ll remember is your very impressive statue and the fairy music being more excited than usual.”

Zoe pulled her head back up, frowning at him. “What?”

“One of them improved the mead, added some eternal honey, I suspect. Much too potent for most humans, they won’t remember anything from after the fae fire. The fair folk will, of course, but that was the point, no?” 

She thought that through for a long moment, weighing up the balance of if it could be true. “Then why do we both remember it? I drank two glasses, and you weren’t being shy about absorbing some.” It seemed excessive to call it drinking when he sort of just slipped a hand into the glass and consumed it passively.

“You can remember it because he wanted you to, I presume as a testament to his skill, given he’s a satyr. And me, because given what I am, I don’t quite count in the way they’d mean their incantation to work, so I get to remember everything.” His lips quirked up in amusement, shaking his head. “You’re hardly the first of us to fuck one of them. Don’t worry about it. I’m still recommending you for the research position.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. That statue was amazing work for how little notice you got and it met with wholehearted approval from our guests. You excelled yourself. I’m not the only one who thought so. Caleb mentioned he wanted you to another one for a friend of his.”

Zoe raised her brows at that, sitting back against the wall her bed abutted. “You spoke?”

“Before he had to return to service at the court, yes. He carried you back here. I had to open the door for him, and he said his friend Magnus would love to see another version of that statue. I have details to summon him. Once you’ve had the chance to recover, you can arrange that before the school comes back in.”

Magnus. The Magnus, the forest god, Caleb thought she should make a version for him? Her heart squeezed with something she wasn’t going to name yet, but she nodded, struggling to make her thoughts come as words. “That soon?”

“It would be better to have it done prior to lessons starting, saves too much risk of the younger ones accidentally offending someone or trading a true name. You know how they can be.” Simeon waved a hand like he was shooing some annoying inconvenience, wafting his too thin fingers so they wobbled with the movement.

“Of course,” Zoe agreed, nodding to herself. “We wouldn’t want that. Where’s my mask?”

“Caleb kept it. Said he wanted something to remind him of you when he was looking for the way back.” Simeon smirked, if such an expression could form in the shadows of his face. “I thought it was only fair since you’d left such an impression. You don’t mind, do you?”

Zoe thought back to the grip on her hips, determined to check them for marks later on. “Of course not. It’s always nice to have something to remember things by.”

Other stories from Terri Stern:

A Vampire’s Debt Steamy Short Stories collection

The Monster Erotica collection

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If you enjoyed this story, I would sincerely appreciate if you would leave a review or a rating! Reviews and ratings are a great help to the author and they make my day. Thank you!

Terri Stern is a writer and student based in Scotland. Outside of writing she enjoys walking and cocktails, as well as belly dancing. Her favorite tea is Royal Milk Tea from South Korea and she dreams of being able to travel again so she can visit there to try it fresh.

Find her on Twitter: @TerriSternWrite

Website: terristernwrites.com

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