Reborn From the Cosmos
ARC 6-Winter War-46

ARC 6-Winter War-46

“Don’t pout.”

“This is not a pout. This is an expression of disgust.” I push aside the expensive-looking bottle of wine, apparently made from grapes grown outside Rosentheim, wow. “Am I the only one who’s embarrassed that a half-gob can brew better than anyone in Harvest?”

“Winemaking is not an essential skill. What does it matter to you anyhow? You can’t get drunk on the stuff.”

“I can’t get drunk off a few weak mushrooms. Besides, it’s about the feeling. He can make a wine as sweet as fruit that burns like liquid fire, warming you from head to toe. It’s nice.”

“Hm.” She refills her glass. Once she sets the bottle down, a small hand reaches for it but the knight is quick to knock it aside. “Hey. None for you. You have plenty of juice.”

Wenry retracts her smacked hand wearing an actual pout. There’s no way I made that face. “Just wanted to try it,” she mumbles.

“You’ll have plenty of time to try it when you’re older.”

“Eh, do you think she can afford it? Terrible as it is, I bet this is pretty pricey stuff.”

“I fully expect the locals to raid this place once we’ve gone, consequences or no.”

“Not that there’s much to pillage.” I stare at our dinner spread with disappointment. There was nothing fresh in the residence of the village head. All we could replace was a quarter bag of flour, a stale loaf of bread, a corner of cheese, and a bag of salty jerky. Sadly, the wine was the best of our haul.

The rest of the house was cleared out in a similar manner, the floors having no rugs and the walls bare of any paintings. The glasses and plates we found were cracked and so, far less valuable. The furniture is of decent quality but too large for someone trying to make a quick getaway.

Someone with intentions on returning doesn’t abscond with as much wealth as they can stuff into their carriage. Seems Borick was right to assume that the village’s leader had abandoned them in their time of need.

I understand. If he’s out of his depth, the last thing he wants is to be held to account by a group of starving people. Still, disgraceful. These people were counting on him and he just abandons them. It always amazes me how people like that end up in positions of power. If you don’t want the responsibility, leave it to someone who does.

“Should have had Rolly bring back a meal,” I grumble while taking another bite of the salty meat. The lueorale was sent back to inform the others about our situation and, if needed, keep an eye on the caravan throughout the night.

Tomorrow at the latest, she’ll return to assist Alana with whatever the scheming blond has planned for the two villages. “If there was just one decent tasting thing, it could make the rest of this bearable. Something sweet would be nice.”

At the other end of the table, Alana pauses. Before I can ask her what’s wrong, she pushes out her chair. “Come on,” she says to Wenry, scooping up the child. “Time for bed.”

“A few more minutes?”

“Nope.”

The girl lays her head on Alana’s head and stares at me while being carried into another room. She never warmed up to me but clearly thinks the world of Alana. I hope her little heart isn’t broken. I have no idea how my future saint plans on handling this and, given her performance in the woods, there’s a chance the heroic image the girl has cultivated will be shattered.

Alana returns a few minutes later, childless. To my surprise, she doesn’t go for her chair but circles around the back of mine. Two arms slide over my shoulders and loop around my neck as she bends over. “Hey,” she says softly, breath tickling my ear.

“Mm?”

“When you said that something, er, sweet would make dinner better…ah, um…saints, what am I saying?”

“Don’t stop now.” I want to see her face but think better of it. She’s probably talking at the back of my head for a reason.

I smother a laugh as she sighs. “…does that something sweet include me?”

“Oh, yes.” With one hand, I pull the tray we’ve laid out the subpar food on closer. The other hand I slide into her hair to keep her from escaping as I face her. An unnecessary gesture. She’s eager when she sees my approach and moans softly when our lips touch.

I waste no time pushing my tongue into her mouth to play with hers. Though it’s more bullying as she practically melts against me, slumping against my shoulder as she lets me do as I please.

After a few moments, I pull away, smirking at the deep breath she takes while reaching for a piece of jerky. It still tastes terrible but I smile wider and whisper, “Delicious.”

I get the expected blush as Alana tugs on my shirt until I stand up. “What?” I ask as she grabs the tray. “Going to feed me now?”

“No…” Her blush deepens. “You didn’t, ah, want any more of this, did you?”

“Not really.”

“Good. That’s good. Could you…” She tugs at my waist.

Brows raised, I follow her silent direction and drop my pants, kicking them aside. Turning her eyes away, she tugs at my underwear. More than a little intrigued, I kick them off and aside as well.

The blond shuffles behind me, urging me to turn and face the closest chair. Then her hand grabs the tray from the table and places it on the seat. An idea, an incredibly outrageous and unbelievably exciting idea, comes to mind. “Are—"

“Shh.” Her whisper is hot and breathy. She urges me a little closer to the chair before both hands move between my legs. Her hands roam over my thighs, her touch slowly becoming more deliberate. I jump as she brushes the head of my gift. In response, her arms hold me tighter. Soft lips brush my neck. There’s a moment of hesitance. Then a tongue licks the same spot, trailing up to my chin.

“You taste so good,” she mutters. I can only manage a grunt in response, more preoccupied with her hands. Soon, she is stroking my full length, exploring what makes me jump and moan. Which makes it very hard to stay still and let her do as she pleases. I somehow manage to grit my teeth and bear it, unwilling to break whatever erotic trance my future saint has fallen into to brazenly fondle me like this.

I can’t hold back a soft cry as one of her hands leaves my shaft to probe my other source of pleasure, two fingers briefly tracing my lower lips before pushing inside.

“No, no, no,” she mumbles. “Quiet. Don’t wake the little girl.”

Quiet? How does she expect me to be quiet with what she’s doing to me? “You…fingers…oh, fuck…too strong…”

“I know,” she whispers hotly. “I’ve got it.”

I decide to trust she knows what she’s doing and focus on keeping my voice down, biting my lower lip to muffle the sounds I can’t stop from leaking. A familiar pressure begins to build. Just as I’m about to deliver another warning, Alana’s fingers slip from inside me, both hands pumping my gift while she grinds against my ass.

“You’re close, right?” I nod. “Kierra told me how to tell. You…right before, you breathe really fast. And…your eyes flutter. Looks a little strange because of all the lids you have.”

My climax isn’t the most intense I’ve experienced but I still have to bite down hard to keep quiet. Alana pulls me against her as I twitch and shiver, her hands stopping their motions as ropes of cum shoot from my cock. She bends me over, guiding the white goo onto the dinner tray.

By time I’m finished, with my incredible output, everything is coated, liberally. Alana steps away from me and I grab the table with one hand, needing the extra support with my shaky legs. I half-stumble to an empty chair as Alana picks up the tray, putting it in her laps as she sits down.

Her whole face is flushed as she slowly grabs a piece of jerky. My heart pounds in my chest as fast as her lips tremble as she brings it to her mouth. A small moan slips from my lips as she meets my gaze, mouth opening to accept the cum-covered meat.

This isn’t the first time she’s shown a liking for my fluids. Before, she literally licked it off the floor after Kierra and I rested from a vigorous fuck. But then she was in a lustful haze induced by my pheromones.

This? She’s doing this with a clear mind. Saints, she thought of it and made it happen. And that…that is a different kind of turn-on from seeing her lose herself to desire. One no less powerful that leaves me hard and aching as I watch her eat with far more relish than earlier.