Only one thing would wake him. Kaan had learned to ignore your voice - with practice, he liked to tease - and the debt to the fae and their blessed garden was worth it when you held out the plump berry in your fingertips. Already the juices dribbled, so sweet in the middle of winter, and the temptation to eat it yourself itched at the back of your mind.

The naga's dusk nose twitched before a forked tongue flicked out to scent the air. His warm lips kissed the juices away, the berry savoured. Kaan groaned, both thick from sleep and delight. “I love fae food," he whispered, and at your laugh, peeked his eyes open. "Only one?"

"More when you say hi."

"Hi," he yawned. Long arms stretched overhead and the naga curled nearer, his head almost on your lap. "Feed me, morsel."

"Morsel," you scoffed. Kaan whined when you stood and ate a fae-blessed berry, the sugars and juices tingling through you. "How are you doing?"

"Apart from missing you?" The glare you gave earned a bright laugh. His teasing never ceased and it did nothing to help the flutter in your chest. He only missed your gifts. "I'm cold. Will you light the fire again? What did you bring me?"

Though you grumbled, his keen eyes already found the logs piled in wait of being lit. Kaan moved out from the bundled nest to the hamper. His arm reached, and a sharp hiss made you both freeze when you smacked him back.

The plea and apology jumbled together as you choked on a laugh. Crouched before the dim fire pit, sparks caught light as a heavy head nestled against your thighs. Kaan groaned and wound his arms to your hips, nuzzling against you.

"Sssso warm," he whispered, and scrunched his face when the lisp elongated. "I missed you."

Soft cracks of the fire warmed the cave. His hair felt silken when you ran your fingers back through it. "I missed you, too."

He hummed, "good. Tell me what you brought me."

The gradual slowing of his breathing came when you spoke. You used to take offence to it, when Kaan began to hug you close and his heart slowed, but now as he draped his heavy tail closer around your bodies, you understood it to be a sign of his trust.

Nobody else would be here- could be here while he neared hibernation. Kaan reluctantly stirred when you pressed a berry to his lips with a whispered groan of your name when you teased and ate one instead. His lips pressed to your fingertips before your cheek, and he fell into the furs you threw back over him.

Beneath the cave, down a tricky slope in near darkness, you washed grime off your body in a freezing, rushing stream. So narrow and fast that you never dared inch too close, only retrieving fresh water and helping stock it for Kaan when he woke.

It was your practice for too long now. Always helping, always returning to his side to wake him, to welcome the lips on your temple as he relied on your body heat in colder nights. You wouldn't change a thing... not many things. The worst part of coming was knowing the same evening you would leave for the season, and return in no time passed for Kaan, but days of a life passed, wasted, pining for the naga asleep in a cave.

He woke with a small yawn and a nudge of his tail to your hip. Without looking up from the fire you stoked, you ran your fingertips to the white and silver scales. "You know, I think you take me for granted."

Kaan frowned. The anticipated retort hadn't come, and the naga instead slid closer. His cool arms curled back to your waist like he’d never parted and settled you on his wide lap. "Would you want me to visit your village as often as you visit me? I could. I would, to see you," he hummed, and his smile grew against your shoulder when you scowled. "I may even end up on a spike. Or be made an accessory… I am pretty enough. You could always keep me close-"

"At least you'd be quiet."

"How rude," he muttered. His chin rested heavy on your shoulder. In the passing seconds, his cheek nuzzled closer, lips soft brushing the shell of your ear. If he scented the air, you dreaded what would be found. "Nearly done with the fire?" He - from practice, knew to dodge your elbow, grinning and squeezing you close. "I need to rest. Will you be gone?"

"I'll be back in a month," you said, but his arms tightened at your words. It hurt. To come all this way only to leave again, empty handed and heavy-hearted. "It'll pass quickly for you. Go, rest."

His tongue flicked at your cheek before he wriggled and curled in his nest. Neither of you mentioned the tip of his tail gently curled to your ankle. "Don't eat all my berries."

Left huddling before the growing flames, it was only the ache weighing on your shoulders keeping you from leaving. That, and the softening of scales as reluctant as you to part. Perhaps a little that beyond the cave, the wind lashed and even standing - gently stepped from the coils slowly winding to your knees - and pausing at the entrance, the harsh chill struck you.

It was dark. The only light came from the fire grown at your back illuminating the cave, bathing Kaan is a soft glow.

One peek from the boulder at the entrance and your stomach fell. Too dark for you, too dangerous with ice coating the path and frost in the air, and any torch carried would extinguish on first step outside.

He woke from a light sleep with a groan like he had before, but once he'd stolen the fae fruit, his eyes fluttered shut again. Only after snatching a blanket - one you had spent hours on, were his eyes lifting to yours.

"Kaan, I'm staying the night."

With a soft stare, fatigued and barely resisting the tug of hibernation, the bundled naga crooked a smile. "Missed me that much already?"

"It's too dark for me to get home." The soft glow of his eyes and his frown reminded you that unlike humans, the naga was adapted to dim caves and night-darkened forests. Unable to look him in the eye, you pretended to search for somewhere to lay. "Not all nagas are as soft-hearted towards humans."

"Not humans." His arms reached out to you from the nest. "Just you. The cost of your stay is to cuddle me. Keep me warm."

The thick boots laced at your ankles landed with a thud even as you frowned. "But you're cold."

"So warm me up."

The chill of his arms made you gasp, but Kaan chuckled and tucked you even tighter. His nest was set in a dip of stone, cushioned by furs and blankets and old clothes, some yours that had somehow been “lost,” and laying on something warmed by the time Kaan had been curled here settled the nerves in your stomach.

The race of your heart lurched as the naga dragged his jaw against your crown, embracing you to his warming body. Bare chested as he was, your fingertips curled above his calming heartbeat and already, he was breathing slower.

Sleep evaded you with the steady tucking of cool scales against your legs. Kaan gripped you to him tighter, coming to clutch you to his chest, and sometime sleep came, when your ear was to his heart and his fingers tangled in your hair, pressing you there.

Without any light to wake you, it was the chill of a fire dying rousing you, and you woke much as you had fallen asleep; warmed in the softest hug, lips hovering to your forehead. There wasn't anywhere you would rather be; it would've been perfect, if the fire hadn't died.

Kaan's soft breaths nuzzled against your crown. He had woken only moments ago with you, but he was quick to draw you back when you readied to move, burying you beneath furs and his coils. He seemed as reluctant as you to leave, so you tucked into his chest, content to listen to the slow beat of his heart. It nearly soothed you back to sleep; the soft pace of like a lullaby.

Words thickened by lethargy, Kaan mumbled against your temple, "why is it only you come in winter?"

"Don't you want me to?"

"That wasn't the question."

Palm flat on his taut stomach, you watched the muscle tense beneath your touch, reluctant to even whisper, "I care about you."

"That would be why you spent the night wriggling closer then," Kaan teased, pressing his nose into your hair with a chuckle, even as you gasped and strained against him.

"I was wriggling because your coils tighten in your sleep! Don't blame me, you heat-hog! That tail-"

"Oh, this one?"

Scales rubbing together rasped like the soft burn of a fire now lost. Kaan weaved them against you until you were pressed flush, able to watch him bite back a grin when you grumbled, "you just want me close for heat."

"Mm. Speaking of heat," he breathed, and if he heard your heart spasm, he didn't show it. Kaan's palm stroked against the curve of your throat, thumb stroking where your collarbones dipped. "You ought to be careful about caring for me. It almost feels like courtship, and we wouldn't want me to fall into a mating rut, would we?"

The gentleness brushed where your neckline fell loose on your chest. His eyelids fell to where he traced the heat rushing to his touch, and the silence only dragged on. His chest rose on a deep breath, one caught in his throat as he whispered, "right?"

"Kaan…"

Hand framing your jaw, the naga swallowed hard, voice rasping. "Would we?"

"I," you shuddered at his forehead coming to yours, his lips only a mere breath away. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to… to-"

"To mate you."

"To mate me," you echoed. "I wouldn't mind being your mate."

For a fleeting breath, Kaan laid against you, into you. Thick tail nudged to your hips and his lips were so warm where he was elsewhere cold. The affection you ached for flooded you down to your curling toes, but it was fleeting. Kaan unwound himself. He recoiled to the deepest corner of his nest, head tucked low, away from you.

"Go," he croaked. Kaan's claws bit into the cave beneath him; he had never been so small in your presence. "Go, please."

There was no arguing with the tremor in his plea, nor with the agony creeping into his face, the same you fought to hide deep in your chest. Only the words whispered in the back of your mind forced you from his nest, cold now without him beside you. He didn't want you, the voice hissed. He doesn't want you. The promise of a mate tempted him.

He wouldn't be fighting it so hard if that were true. Fighting for you.

Boots heavy on your dragging feet brought you to the mouth of the cave, but no further. The forests beyond remained hidden. Even the grip on the snow boots didn’t ground you when the unyielding stone forced you back from the force of your struggle.

"Kaan…"

"I can't," he mumbled. "If you stay, if-if-"

"The cave entrance is snowed over. The stones are frozen together and we're," you winced. "We're snowed in together, Kaan."

Hardly audible above the storm binding you to the cave, Kaan whispered, "no. No, you're just-you must be weak."

"I'm not weak, Kaan." Weaker than him, yes, but not weak. "If I was weak, I wouldn't make it to you through those woods."

"No… No, I didn't-" his gulp was audible. "May I try?"

Nothing stopped him from trying, but you. Kaan tucked himself round the cave wall and only met your eyes when you stepped back. Sharp guilt rose to tighten and bind your throat.

The rock didn't budge. Not with his body coiling tight and shoving harder, succeeding only to bruise himself.

You were locked together. Trapped.

Kaan's soft voice carried like the wind. Curled into the coldest crack of the entrance, it brushed so gently, quietly, you almost missed it. "Tell me you meant it." Though turned away still, the tip of his tail didn't miss when he reached, winding against your leg. "Tell me again."

"Kaan-"

"Don't come closssser if you didn't," he whispered.

The single step broke him. His tail swept you back but he caught you, the furs your cushions when he laid you down. Kaan framed your cheeks and nudged his nose to yours.

"Tell me before this goes any further," he said, his long eyelashes fluttering by yours. Even as he spoke, the claws of his fingertips traced beneath your thick layers, creeping up your stomach to brush your chest. "Tell me."

"Kaan, I want you to be my mate. I want to be yours."

The gentlest kisses faltered where your chest rose with shallow breaths. Together, the layers fell away, goosebumps and shivers blossoming beneath the cold air, beneath the softening, heated stare running low, lower to your hips struggling to lift beneath the weight of his.

On a warm laugh, Kaan rose up and helped you kick the rest free. Both laying bare, warm and close, your hands travelled the muscle of his chest - only for you to gasp.

The naga grinned, cheeks nestled to your thighs. One hiss made you whimper, forked tongue flicking up, a mere brush. "Kaan-"

"Yes?"

"Don't tease," you whispered, but the warming of his eyes promised nothing less than torture. His tongue slid from his lips reminiscent of how he tasted the fae food, and he tasted you with the same reverence, the same guttural groan as the tip flicked up your folds to brush your flushing bud. "Kaan," you gasped, and the naga only laughed deeper.

"Did you think I wouldn't savour you?"

"Savour-“ you choked. Morsel. “Kaan, I am not a meal-"

"You are," he murmured, and with his hands gripping your thighs, he dragged you from the nest and against his lips.

The cave rang with your hoarse cries and hollow breaths. So sensitive already, the tips of his tongue falling low sent a wave of fire through you. Kaan groaned with your heels digging hard into his back to beckon him close, but he never wasted a second, never wasted a breath that could be better spent pleasuring you.

He pleasured you too well. With a soft whisper unheard over the blood rushing in your ears, Kaan pressed a warm hand to your navel and held you down, the thick muscle slipping into your hips and- oh, you cried, the tip dragging slowly to the nerves tender and tightening.

The cave was dark enough, but only blurred spots danced in your vision. Your legs trembled. Kaan curled his tongue and dragged up, and you arched, bucked, overcome with a rush of-

Nothing.

"That… that was cruel," you struggled to say, shaking still as the crescendo began to ebb away and the offender grinned. His open mouthed kisses rose from your navel and up, pausing to press sharp teeth to your nipple until you sunk heavy again. "I won't... I won't beg."

"I think not. It will be me begging for you," he said to your lips. Thick on his tongue, Kaan kissed you deeper, cradling your crown as a weight nestled between your hips. His lips rose when you whined and spread your thighs wider, welcoming the thick, twin lengths heavy on your stomach. "And beg I will," he breathed, and two crooked fingers inched into you. "I want to make love to you, now. Please. Please," he whispered, fingertips where his tongue had been and teasing whines freely from you.

"I need you. I-"

Kaan's lips parted on bringing his slick fingers to his lips, and in parting them, you saw the swollen fangs, slick like his fingers as he sucked you from them. The gentlest warmth of his head running from your clit down stole your focus with ease, your eyes rolling and hips following, leaning up to align with his cock pressing down.

"Ready?" Kaan pressed his thumb to your lower lip, flushed and swollen, parted as you struggled for breath. Your muscles tightened at the steady rub of him to your centre, and you nodded. "Lips open, my mate."

"For… for the venom?"

"If you'd rather not," he rushed, and though you loved his need to reassure you, the pull of his body away twisted your stomach so you dug your heels into him and tensed. His cock entered you so slowly you nearly came, and when he stroked down your cheek to bring your eyes to his, the warmth there coaxed you back to that precipice. "Do you want it?"

The answer was yes to all he had, and you begged as much. Kaan chuckled and the rumbling met your lips. With the first tang of venom on your tongue, the naga rocked himself forward and his cock filled you, thick and curved and hot like his tongue meeting yours, blackened by the aphrodisiac tightening your chest.

It eased the slight burn in a breath and you nodded once, dragging your mate closer and reaching low to stroke the cock heavy on your stomach. Kaan shuddered and his body stiffened, a whimper passing you both.

Then he moved.

He moved and your body was aflame. The pleasure endless in your nerves arched your chest, Kaan nuzzling down to take your flushed nipples into his lips in turn and nip, suck, kiss, thrusting in time with your stuttered gasps.

Beyond the cave, wind howled; nothing like Kaan's deepened groans, his claws dipping into your thighs where he pushed you back and sunk deeper at this angle. Venom coated his lips. It coated yours, tingling in your throat, thoughts and stomach, until your breath caught.

He felt it, too. Kaan's forehead rested to yours as he rocked slower, deeper, and into your fist. With a bitten back smile, you squeezed your fingers and ran low to tease the slick dip in his scales, the slit, and the naga bellowed a harsh cry. He came deep, hot and strong and along your stomach, Kaan stealing your matching pleasure with a fevered kiss.

Neither of you felt sated. The venom still pulsed strong and hibernation was long forgotten, a mating rut stirred and his cocks stiff against you. Kaan cradled you on his lap as you sought to be closer, aching to take him again until you couldn't any longer.

“Shit,” you hissed, watching your breath fog across your vision for a moment. Your eyelashes were frozen, creating a thick border of white around your vision because you’d neglected to bring your goggles too.

The child bent and swept their hand through the snow in a rapid arc, sending a wide spray of powder glittering through the air, and amid the flurry, they turned and ran.

“Wait!” you yelled after them. “Wait! Is there a shelter around here?” As if you had no more sense than a jackrabbit, you plunged through the trees after him, immediately tripping on the toe of your snow shoe and pitching into a deep bank of snow, face first.

His hair had been a white blond, and his skin a warm, rosy brown, and somehow he looked like he belonged here among the sleeping pines and wild, endless skies. You, meanwhile, were making more noise than a bear in a city trashcan.

Around your fresh mouthful of snow, you cursed and rolled upright. It wasn’t easy to do, but you’d fallen over enough times on your way out from the trail head to learn how to pick yourself up. Faceplant, roll onto your front, rock up onto your knees, windmill your arms a bit, stand up. Rinse and repeat.

As you straightened again, you heard the boy’s laughter and froze. “Hello?”

It seemed to come from one direction and then, a moment later, from another.

“Fuck’s sake,” you muttered bitterly to yourself. “Listen, I got turned around and I could use your help. I’m going to freeze my butt off if I stay out here tonight. Can you help me or not?”

Empty childish laughter was your only response.

Sucking in a deeper breath - cautiously because if you breathed too deeply and too quickly you’d start coughing with the cold - you headed in the direction you’d last seen the boy prancing through the snow like a Solstice reindeer. How did he move like that? Could he be a fae? At that point you were almost ready to sell your left kidney for a safe place to spend the night, but as the thought crossed your mind you realised that maybe you were more desperate than you should be. You still had perhaps an hour left of daylight, and you had a compass and a detailed map in your bag.

Out of nowhere, a deep, bellowing roar split the silence, crystalline fragments of winter peace shattering as your ears rang and you stumbled, catching the front of your snow-shoe again. You went down hard with a grunted ‘oof’ and felt your ankle go. It didn’t snap, thank all the gods, but you’d sprained it before and remembered the shock and the sudden rush of heat. You couldn’t have helped the yell that left your lips as you went down even if your soul (or your left kidney) had depended on it.

Defeated, frustrated, and in a fair bit of pain, you just lay there, face down in the snow for a minute. Perhaps the bear - if it had indeed been a bear - wouldn’t notice you if you just lay there.

Heavy footfalls reached you not long after, the snow squeaking slightly as it was compressed beneath large feet.  

Shit.

Summoning the strength to turn your head, you looked and found two enormous, fluffy white hind paws, tipped with thick, four-inch long, jet black claws standing right beside you. You didn’t think that polar bears lived in these parts, but by this point, your exhaustion ran bone-deep, your muscles were shaky and cramping with the creeping cold, and your reserves of courage had just run completely dry. And with that, you went limp.

The creature knelt beside you and turned you over, chuffing softly like a tiger and gripping your backpack as if it were the scruff of your neck. Your stomach swooped, and when you opened your eyes, you saw that you were five feet off the ground, in the claws of a creature you’d thought only existed in ancient fairy tales.

A yeti had you in its claws.

Stars danced in your vision and you went limp before you could process much more than the dull, deep growl that reverberated around pronounced canines and black lips.

Warmth washed through you and you wriggled gently before a flash of sharp pain shot up your leg and you stopped moving immediately. At the sound of your shuffling, something sat up straight beside you and you blinked again, trying to clear your vision a bit.

Covered by a soft, woollen rug, you were lying on a sofa in a wooden cabin, with an iron, wood-burning stove blazing away at one end of the modest space, and with vibrantly coloured rugs and throws decorating the floor and couch. Everything had a handmade look to it, including the house itself right down to the cement used to seal the gaps between the rounded logs of the cabin walls and the rustic wooden handles on the doors.

In a chair near you sat possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen in your whole life, and the first words out of your mouth when you spotted him were, embarrassingly, “Am I dead?”

He laughed joyously, his ice-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His skin was a warm, rich tanned brown, his eyebrows steel grey, and his long, thick, wiry white hair tied back off his ruggedly chiselled face in a half-ponytail. He looked to be at some intangible age between thirty and forty, with laughter lines around his eyes and one or two between his brows. His lips were full and looked infinitely kissable, slightly chapped, and he had a thick, pale scar on his chin that stretched up his neck, over his jawline to his lower lip that just invited you to press your fingers to it and draw him closer for a kiss. Naturally, you did none of that, and just stared at him like a thunderstruck imbecile.

“You’re not dead,” he chuckled, and you immediately felt hot all over, under your skin. He had a beautiful, rich, deep, lyrical voice with a lilting, thick accent. “But you did twist your ankle pretty good. How do you feel?”

As you blinked again, you realised that it was dark outside and that the curtains had been drawn against the night. You shifted again, trying to sit upright, and you realised that your foot was cold. Staring down at it, you discovered that he’d strapped a plastic ice block to it, wrapped in a tea-towel. “Where am I?” you asked groggily. “What happened?” and then you added, “That kid… there was a boy out there…?”

“You mean that one?” the man asked gruffly, scowling and jutting his chin over his shoulder at a wild-looking boy standing at the other end of the cabin. He was resting his lean, wiry frame against the doorway to what looked like a kitchen area, though it was hard to see in the low lamplight. The kid, perhaps nine or ten, flashed you a wickedly sharp smile and disappeared into the other room.

“Yeah,” you said lamely. “He’s yours?”

“Yup,” he said, standing up and looming over you for a moment before backing off, mostly so you didn't have to crick your neck to look at him.

He was wearing a creamy, cable-knit jumper with an intricate pattern on, and pale scruffy jeans with a rip in the knee. Where he was tall he was also broad-shouldered, though there was a softness to his torso that spoke of a different kind of strength from movie stars and body builders. He was the kind of man who could lift a tree trunk without much difficulty, but probably couldn’t sprint for long without getting winded.

“Who are you?” you asked as he turned away and reached for a mug on a nearby table. It looked unusual and you realised a second later that it was carved from wood. Something in the back of your head said, with the voice of your late grandmother, that it was called a ‘kuksa’ by folks in these parts.

“Oh,” he said, pausing and glancing back at you over his shoulder. His hair was thick and coarse looking, hanging just down to his shoulder blades but you still felt the inexplicable urge to run your fingers through it. You frowned, wondering whether he’d slipped you something while you’d been unconscious. “I’m Arttu,” he said, drawing out the consonants in a way that made your mouth go a bit dry. His eyes were so blue that they were almost beyond comprehension. You’d never seen anyone with eyes that colour. “Here,” he added, moving back to you and holding out the kuksa.

You made no move to take it from him, no matter how rough and big and inviting his hands looked. “What is it?” you asked.

“Water,” he grinned. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

“You can’t blame me for being wary,” you grumbled, sitting up awkwardly and reaching for the cup. “Passing out in the claws of a yeti and waking up in the cabin of some supernaturally handsome guy…”

Arttu nearly dropped the kuksa as he handed it to you, but he laughed almost shyly at your words. “Well,” he said, oddly flustered and with his cheeks slightly flushed. From the other room, the boy yelled something in a language you didn’t speak or recognise, and Arttu replied more softly in the same.

You tried not to make an indecent noise at the sound of his voice, and looked away. You took in the way your foot was propped up on a cushion and, for the first time, noticed that your very unflattering snow-suit was nowhere to be seen.

When you looked back up at him, Arttu was licking his lips nervously and had stepped back even further. You drank and then set the kuksa on a nearby hand-made, pine coffee table. “I mean it,” he said in a soft, earnest voice. “You’re safe here. Are you hungry?”

For you? “Uh, yeah?” you said, suddenly realising how long it had been since breakfast as your stomach clenched almost painfully.

His lips twitched and he nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

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