CHAPTER 109: BELLOWS OF THE NIGHT

’Is she serious right now?’ Steve thought, his gaze locked on her with a focus that bordered on disbelief.

Her eyes had found his, unflinching and unguarded, and in that very moment, he caught the slight shift. Her gaze dipped—drifting down to his lips, then slowly up again, and he saw it.

Vulnerability clung to her like a fragile veil. It felt out of place, this intimacy, this moment, especially after the day they’d just survived. But still, Steve understood.

She just wanted to feel something else. Something other than the sharp edge of fear.

He didn’t move. Not yet. He held still, giving her the space to decide without pressure. If she wanted this, she had to make it known.

And she did.

Fiona leaned in, slowly, subtly. Her movement was soft, cautious, yet certain. Her head tipped slightly, strands of her hair spilling forward like warm silk.

There was a tremble in the air between them as she paused again, but then she moved closer—finally closing the space.

Her lips touched his.

It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t urgent. It was soft, gentle, like the flutter of a breeze that knew it wasn’t meant to last but made itself felt anyway.

She shut her eyes for a heartbeat and then pulled back, as if tasting the moment for what it was. And then, with the kind of certainty only impulse can bring, she leaned in again.

This time, her lips stayed longer, pressing against his with more need, more rhythm. Her hand rose, fingers warm as they settled on the side of his cheek. Steve’s mind spun.

’Hmm...Should I? Should I really do this right now?’

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure.

’Is this just a temporary escape for her? Or is this what she truly wanted, or just what she needed in the moment to fight off the fear curling inside her?’

But still, she kissed him. Her mouth moved against his with delicate, hypnotic rhythm, and it sent heat spiking down his spine.

He remained still for a breath longer, struggling with his thoughts, but then finally, his eyes shut. He surrendered. And he moved with her.

He kissed her back.

The moment deepened—his lips moving with hers in tandem. Her breath came faster, warming the space between them, and her body leaned into his, her supple curves pressing lightly against his chest.

He could feel the heat of her through the thin barrier of his shirt. His hand lifted to mirror hers, sliding up and cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing softly against her skin.

She pushed closer.

Their bodies met more fully, her huge breasts, free under her thin attire, brushing his, soft and warm.

Her hand slid lower—first pressing against his chest, fingers exploring the curve and hard tension of his muscles. He felt her breathing shift, quicker now, each inhale shallow and heavy.

Her fingers traveled downward, brushing from the center of his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen. And then, finally, they reached the edge of his pants, right to the slight print of his dick.

Steve swallowed. Hard.

She didn’t stop.

Her palm grazed over his cock, still through the fabric, and Steve’s breath hitched. The sensation wasn’t hurried. It was deliberate.

Her fingers moved softly, rubbing in slow, careful strokes over his massive cock print. A quiet groan built low in his throat, and Fiona kept kissing him, lips never stopping, never letting go.

The strokes of her hand grew more confident, her breath quickening with every second. There was a sensual hunger to it now—a rhythm, a need.

Her lips parted his, tongues just barely brushing, and his hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her into the kiss with more depth.

But then—

It happened.

Some flicker in the corner of his vision pulled at him.

Instinct, maybe. Luck, perhaps. He opened his eyes slightly, still kissing her—and froze.

There, across the stream.

A goblin.

Squatting low, its clawed hands cupped water, bringing it to its grotesque mouth in a gentle stride as it drink to its thirst needs. It hadn’t seen them yet. But it was there. Close.

Steve’s eyes widened.

Fiona continued kissing him, unaware. His mind was spinning, panic battling pleasure.

Slowly, he moved a hand to her arm—gently, carefully—and pulled back from the kiss. She blinked, confused, lips parted in surprise. Then she saw his expression.

He brought a finger to his lips. A silent signal.

Then, he pointed.

Fiona’s eyes followed his gesture, and when she saw it, her entire body stilled. A breath caught in her throat.

The goblin, thank the heavens, hadn’t noticed them. Not yet. But it’s towering figure, even as it squatted, with its bloodied weapon dropped at the side, was ever so horrifying to view.

Neither Steve nor Fiona had weapons. And even with Fiona’s strength-based ability, they couldn’t risk a confrontation here. Not now. Not when other goblins might be close.

Steve moved first, his hand brushing hers in a quiet signal to follow. He slipped off the rock slowly, his body low and silent. She followed.

Behind the rock, they crouched. Holding their breath.

The goblin sipped another hand full of its water. Then, as if things couldn’t have gone any worse, its eyes sighted them- a slight shift on the rock as Steve and Fiona got down.

It paused.

Its gaze lifted. Slowly. Turning toward the very spot they had been just moments ago. The rock.

But there was nothing on it.

Still, the goblin didn’t move. It remained in that crouched position for a moment longer, before finally rising. The creature stood tall, sniffing the air.

And then, it bellowed.

A deep, guttural sound that rolled like thunder through the trees. The sound of it echoed—feral, raw, animalistic.

Steve and Fiona glanced at each other, eyes wide.

’What the hell?’

Another bellow answered.

Then another.

And another.

The forest came alive with sound.

Dozens of bellows. From every direction, sounding rhythmic in a horrific chorus which stunned Steve and Fiona to the bone.

The goblin clan had come.

They were surrounded.