Sweet Romance14 min read
Can I Touch Your Tail?
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"I can touch your tail?"
He lifted one lazy eyelid and smiled in that thin, dangerous way he had. "You want to?"
I nodded.
This was the first time I'd gathered that little stolen courage.
In a blink he raised his hand and sliced—clean, quick—his tail behind him.
He held half of it in his palm and smiled, nasty and small. "Go on. Touch it."
I stared at the severed tip. "......"
He'd rather scare me with an illusion than let me touch his tail for real.
After that day, I never asked Logan Herrmann again if I could touch his tail.
01
"I can touch your tail?"
"Of course!"
I squealed and reached to stroke the big cat's tail.
Her long tail curled gently around my forearm.
Logan sat nearby with heavy, dark eyes watching us.
I glanced at him. "What are you looking at?"
"Not everyone is half as stingy as you," he said.
The big cat sensed the awkwardness and murmured, "Kynlee, I should go."
"Already?" I pouted, looking at the way her long tail swung away. I hated goodbyes.
Logan: "They're all leaving. Why are you still staring?"
02
"Hey, Logan, what do you think is outside the valley?"
"I want to leave the valley so badly."
"Let's sneak out. Please?"
He propped his chin on his hand, expression blank. "No."
"......"
The Valley of Beasts had everything, they said.
Still, I was so curious about the outside.
Logan suddenly murmured something I missed. I leaned closer. "What did you just say?"
He fixed his gaze on me and repeated, "Why do you always want to leave the valley?"
Because—because I'm human.
That couldn't go to Logan. He always got weird when I said it.
I huffed. "I'm just curious, okay?"
03
Logan dozed in the sun, his face soft in gold light. When he opened his eyes and spoke he was a mean, bad-hearted boy.
"Hey, smug fox!"
I looked up—there was the black wolf who once beat me until I cried.
Logan opened his eyes, cool and dismissive: "Lookin' for trouble?"
"Ha. If I kill that brat, would you die too?"
Almost everyone in the valley knew I lived as a symbiont with a beast.
Unlucky for me, that beast was Logan Herrmann.
Lucky for me, Logan had to—had to—protect me.
He tilted his lips into a smile that was more threat than amusement. "Try it."
04
The black wolf was Logan's friend.
Sometimes I thought Logan had a thing for being friends with people who bullied me.
He once beat the black wolf because of me.
When I was a reckless kid I had wandered into the forest and met a wolf in full beast form, teeth bared and eyes cruel. Most of the valley wore human shape, so seeing them as beasts was always scary. Logan came just in time to find me bawling on the ground. He scooped me up with his tail.
"Don't run off like that," he scolded.
I wiped my tears on his clothes and hiccuped, "He scared me."
05
Logan and the black wolf disappeared for a while.
Aunt June was pregnant and couldn't maintain human form, so she lay coiled, a great white fox, and I leaned against her warm belly.
"Six Aunt," I whispered.
"Mm?"
"Am I stuck in the valley forever?"
June sighed. "Kynlee, the world outside is dangerous."
I blinked and then dozed. When I woke, I was curled on Logan's back.
I tugged his collar like a child. "Where did you go?"
Night had fallen.
He tilted his head, eyes cool. "Do you really want to see outside?"
I swallowed and nodded. "Can I? Can we? I promise not to run. Not to talk to strangers."
06
He watched me like he weighed me and then said, "Fine."
I pleaded, "That storyteller was amazing! We can stay another day!"
Logan scanned me slowly and then, with the smallest twitch of mouth, "You don't want to go back, do you?"
"Of course I do," I lied, yanking his sleeve. "Back now. Back."
He hesitated. "You worried about me?"
"Yes! Yes, I worry about you."
"Then we'll go back," he said, and his tail looped warmly around my waist.
07
"Third Aunt, Six Aunt!"
"Try this, it's so good."
"The hawthorn candy and the rose bun are both tasty."
Third Aunt Katrina laughed. "Did Logan bring you out?"
"Yes."
June patted my head. "Save some for yourself. We can't taste the world."
08
Logan lied to me.
Beast form could be a wounded state.
"Why are you crying?"
"Don't."
He closed his eyes and spoke slowly. The great fox curled small and hollow, his tail limp.
I'd seen many sides of Logan—the impatient, the arrogant, the cold, the breathless—but never this weak.
I stroked the fur at his neck and whispered, "I'm sorry."
"Then don't leave the valley again," I promised.
He hummed softly in his sleep.
09
Pine snow fell as Logan leapt down, shaking flakes onto my head. His face still looked pale, but I didn't care. He let his tail show and I stared at the soft white fur.
I wanted to touch it so badly. I told myself I'd wait until we were home and touch Aunt June's fur instead.
Logan caught my eye and nudged me. "Does your stomach hurt?"
"......"
He draped his coat over me. "Why are you so tiny?"
"That's because your robe is so long," I snapped.
10
My stomach did hurt.
Logan laid his big hand over it, gentle. I felt lightheaded. "Logan?"
"Mm?"
"How many babies will Six Aunt have?"
"Three," he said.
Half asleep I heard him ask, "Do you want to touch my tail?"
I blinked. He was looking into my eyes like a quiet lake.
"You said you wouldn't let me touch it."
"And you scared me the other day."
"No!"
A sliver of tail weaved into my hand. He murmured, "Just touch it."
I smiled and brushed the tip. "You asked me to touch it. I only do it because you begged."
So soft. So warm.
11
The black wolf watched and suddenly said, "You can have babies now."
"Huh?"
Logan picked me up behind him as if I weighed nothing. I sneezed.
"What do you mean, Preston?"
"I'm human. How would I have babies?"
Logan glanced at me as if it was nonsense. "Ignore him."
12
I met a three-headed serpent and froze.
"Are you Logan Herrmann's little girl?" an old voice hissed.
A python leaned toward me. I shrank and nodded.
A hand reached behind and covered my eyes. "Snake should be hibernating," someone said.
"They came looking for their grandchild," a warm voice answered. He smiled, "You didn't cry."
I ripped away the hand and puffed out my chest. "I'm grown up now."
Logan grumbled. "Don't drag the past in my face."
13
"Are we really going out?" I whispered.
He took my hand. "You don't want to?"
I hesitated. "What if we get caught and you get punished?"
"Don't go."
"We should go back."
He paused and then said softly, "Are you worried about me?"
I looked up. "Yes."
"Then let's go home."
He wrapped his tail around my waist and drew a neat circle.
14
Soon I forgot my fear because the city was too loud and bright.
I put a fox mask on his face and said, "Fox."
His eyes shone through the mask like polished stone.
"Logan, that man looked like you."
He watched the figure and then reached out and lifted the mask.
I had to be careful; public places were full of curious eyes.
15
"Logan, if I plant these seeds in the valley, will they grow?"
He sounded gentle. "Try and you'll see."
While he bought a pastry I met a strange young man in black.
"Girl, you carry demon qi," he said. He gave me some paper charms and hurried away.
I ran back to Logan. "Let's go."
He took the charms, examined them, and shook his head. "Don't buy them."
He squeezed my head and laughed.
16
June had three little bundles—white and round, with stubby tails.
I poked their cheeks. "So small."
I wanted my own fox cub.
17
Preston the black wolf said, "You can have babies now."
I turned. Logan picked me behind him, tail brushing my hand. This time he didn't assume his beast form, but fox ears peeked awkwardly.
He half-closed his eyes and wrapped his tail around me. "If our bond ever breaks and you leave, what then?"
"You're going to send me away?" I shouted.
He pressed his palm to my nape, voice quiet, "You always said outside looked nice."
"When did I say that?"
"Now you do."
I clutched him. "I don't want to leave."
He asked slowly, "Are you sure?"
"Yes! I mean—" I hugged him hard. "I don't want to leave!"
18
Black wolf married white wolf that spring.
I whispered in Logan's ear, "If their pups mix colors, will they be black and white?"
He smoothed ointment on my arm. "Maybe in a few years you'll see."
He gave me a small ruby he'd accepted from a red fox.
"What did I say about taking gifts?" he said later, grave.
I blurted, "Maybe you like white things."
19
For three days Logan gave me the cold shoulder.
"Mm."
"I got you a jewel," I muttered.
He raised an eyebrow. "I told you once: don't accept things from strangers."
The red fox looked hurt and left. I made up a lie. "Oh, Logan might like white foxes."
The next day a white fox came and offered something.
I decided not to accept it. I'd learned. I didn't want Logan to brood for a year.
20
The moon lay soft on the lake.
"Kynlee," White Rabbit's voice trembled. "I'm pregnant. It's yours."
"What?"
I wrapped a blanket around her and went to find Logan.
"Logan, I want to bind with White Rabbit."
His neck moved like he swallowed. "Say that again."
"I want to bind with her. She's pregnant. You'll have to take responsibility."
He pressed his brow. "Rabbits fake pregnancies."
"A what?"
21
Summer arrived and the valley bloomed in purple and red.
"Logan, are these the seeds we brought back?" I asked.
"Yes."
Three plump baby foxes tumbled through the flowers, round and mischievous.
"Which one is the second?" I asked.
He smiled slightly. "The last one."
22
"Logan!"
He leaned back on his couch, robe half undone, his tail restless and ears warm. His eyes were red at the corners. "What's wrong?"
My head rang. He looked... strange. I worried and went to him. "Are you sick?"
He mumbled, "Were we discovered when we left the valley last time?"
His tail hooked around my ankle, tickling. He wrapped his arms around me.
"Come here," he said. "Do you want to touch my ears?"
I blinked. "Are you going to cut them off?"
He smiled and kissed my forehead. "Why are you so petty?"
23
I slept in Aunt Olga's room after that, because my usual spot in Logan's arms couldn't hold me through the night. I missed him.
"Aunt Olga, is Logan sick?" I asked.
She stroked my hair. "Why would he be sick?"
"He used a weak beast form. He looked hurt. He didn't tell me."
"Don't go see him this month," she warned.
24
I stopped at the valley entrance and saw the circle of runes in the gate.
"Are you going out?" asked a friend.
"Yes," she chirped. "Why wouldn't I?"
I realized Logan had tricked me again. He'd told me we would get punished if we left the valley.
25
"Girl!"
The same boy in black—the exorcist—appeared again.
"Girl, you carry demon qi."
He was a stubborn boy with hair in a tail and a sword at his hip. I stuck my wrist out. "See? Human."
He bowed and said, "My mistake."
I muttered, "Told you."
26
We returned to the valley at dusk.
"Where did you go?" Logan asked under the moon. His face was empty, but his eyes were heavy.
I raised my voice. "Logan, you lied to me. They don't punish those who leave!"
He dropped his gaze to my wrist where the exorcist had touched me. "Do you not have night sight?"
I squinted in the dim and saw his face fall. His tail looped around my wrist with a grip that made my heart pound.
27
He watched me inch by inch.
"You ran off and smelled like others," he said quietly.
I cried the small hot tears of a child. I still cried easily.
"How dare you hit me?" I sobbed.
"Logan!" someone called.
I hid in his arms and his tail tightened around me. I was small and soft in his circle. I dug my fingers into his sleeve and scolded, "You hit me the moment we met!"
He stroked my tangled hair while I ranted, then he pinched my nape and murmured, "Sleep. You're tired."
I squinted, "Then apologize."
He obliged with a low, "Kynlee, I'm sorry."
I huffed, "Fine. I forgive you. I won't run away anymore."
28
I dreamed of the time he first spanked me—my earliest memory.
Since they found me, he had always been a boy, stoic and sharp. Aunt Olga would hand me over and he'd lift me by my collar as if I were heavy.
"Stop crying or I'll toss you into the tiger den," he'd snarl.
"Mind your step," he'd say, "Don't talk to strangers."
Once, a lion smiled a smooth, dangerous smile and I froze. I buried my face in Logan's neck. He slapped me and said, "You learned to be quiet."
29
The dream overlapped with waking life.
He's the same, quick and unrestrained.
I refused to tell the others. I was too embarrassed.
I sobbed into the fox cubs' fur and Logan, patient and slow, said, "Big Brother ate two extra spoonfuls."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I grumbled.
30
Something about Logan had changed—he looked taller. "Have you been eating?"
He took my hand. "I'll tell you next year."
"Why not now?"
He diverted, "You wanted a new dress, right? Let's go."
31
The boy in black returned, whispering again, "You carry demon qi."
I only smiled at him. "I can handle the pest."
He said, "I'm an exorcist."
"I won't buy your charms."
He sighed. "You are truly odd."
32
He drew paper talismans and I asked, "Why did you grab me?"
"You're strange," he said, and his candle's flame reflected on the sword at his hip.
"I'd advise you to let me go," I demanded.
"If your family comes for you, you'll be doomed," he said.
33
Then he collapsed into a heap, spitting blood. Charms fluttered to the ground in tatters.
It was the second time I'd seen Logan's fox form—golden eyes like coins. His tail wrapped me in safety.
"Be gentler with strangers," I scolded as I clung to his fur, half embarrassed. "Don't kill him!"
Logan didn't say a word walking ahead later, carrying my new dress home. His face was frosted and still.
"Did you really try to kill him?" I asked later in a whisper.
He didn't answer.
34
That evening I found him cold as snow.
I tugged his finger. "I didn't run. He tried to take me."
He kept stroking my head like a quiet punishment. "If he'd died, things would be bad for both of us."
I told myself I meant well though I was naively meddlesome.
35
Logan sulked and muttered at me: "If you run, tell me."
"I did. I went visiting. So there."
He kept silent.
Big news came: the big white fox and black wolf had decided to mate. The valley buzzed.
36
"Will you tie yourself to me?" I asked, blushing.
He groaned. "You go sleep on the floor."
"I'm a girl, you're a boy, that's unfair."
"It's my room," he snapped and tossed me into a bed like a pillow.
"You can't toss me in the pond," he threatened. "Don't wet the bed."
I didn't know then what "binding" would mean beyond the words we said.
37
"I will give back your spirit core," I said one night, half-sleeping and foolish.
Logan's grip squeezed my face like a clamp. "Say it again."
I stuttered, "I—I'll give your—"
He cut me off with a sudden kiss that left a mark.
"You can't bargain affection like trade," he murmured. "Why are you so dense?"
He promised a surprise. "Open the chest tomorrow."
38
I didn't know about the chest of jewels he'd been collecting.
I thought we were only bound by the bond. But we also had marriage now, quiet and strange.
39
"Don't look at my ears," he teased. "If you touch them I'll—"
"I will touch them," I said fiercely. "Even if you cut them off."
In the end I tugged at his tail and he relented. He let me touch.
"Why didn't you let me before?" I whispered.
He smiled low. "Because then you were small."
40
What would I give birth to—eggs or cubs? The question never ceased to rattle my head.
"Logan!" I asked one day, fearful. "What will I have? A cub? An egg?"
He smoothed my hair, thoughtful, and then bit me like a fox who'd decided a thing. "You'll see."
41
He teased me and then kissed me.
Months passed. I kept my hands on my belly and laughed at his old gruffness.
He was stubborn and dangerous and overprotective. He scolded me like a father and loved me like a lover. The valley saw us that way and whispered; the world outside only grew more like a place we'd visit and then return from.
42
"Change," I commanded playfully.
He transformed. Fox fur warmed around me and his tail tucked round my bump. I curled into it and felt safe as any nest.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" I asked.
He hesitated. "It's..."
He stopped and then kissed the top of my head. "You'll know."
43
I birthed a boy—red, round, and squalling. Not an egg, not a strange chimera, but a little human-fox thing that made my heart break and mend itself a hundred times.
Logan pressed his forehead to mine. "Don't cry."
"I can't help it," I said through tears, and he kissed the lids of my eyes.
44
Later, I watched the four little cubs tumble behind a young black wolf and laughed.
"Which one is ours?" I asked Logan.
He looped his arm through mine and smirked. "When he can take shape you will know."
45
Sometimes he was jealous, sometimes tender. He told me once, almost absurdly, "You call me by my full name too often."
I laughed. "What should I call you? Husband? Star? My heart?"
He eyed me. "Call me what you like."
46
"Logan," I asked one lazy afternoon, "when did you start liking me?"
He dabbed ointment on my arm. "I don't know. You barked so much about me. You called on me when you wanted to brag. You trusted me when you were a brat. You didn't know how to be a woman; you were just Kynlee."
He looked up. "You always ran to the edge of things. I watched you. I couldn't help it."
47
We grew more comfortable with the valley and with each other. He kept a chest of stones, a ridiculous, secret little reserve of color and glitter he'd hidden away.
"Why keep them when we are bound?" I asked.
He touched my face. "Just because."
I kissed him then, quick and bright.
48
"Look," I said one night, wearing a fox mask. "You look like this."
He smiled. "Mine."
He leaned in and took the mask off, just like before. Kissed me. "You can taste sweetness," he murmured, making me gasp and laugh.
49
Our son got into mischief. He wanted horns and ran off to see a molting snake.
Logan scowled and told him, "If you ask for horns again I'll—"
I saved him from a lecture and the argument dissolved in laughter.
50
We settled as the valley changed with the seasons. Logan taught our son the slow patience of the fox, the dangerous grace of sharp teeth and sharper wit.
Once I asked: "Logan, why do you keep staying? There are places outside."
He wrapped his tail around me and let it be his answer.
51
We had fights and small reconciliations. Once he sulked for three days because I took a gift in a moment of kindness. Once I slammed the door and he kissed the top of my head until I calmed.
"You're too loud for the valley," he once whispered fondly.
"You're too cold for the sun," I shot back.
He laughed and tacked my ear with a playful bite. "Then stay by my side."
52
One night our family gathered—June with her three small foxes, the black and white wolves with their pups, Aunt Katrina, Aunt Olga nursing the little ones.
I asked Logan, "Will you ever take me outside—for longer?"
He brushed my hair, thinking. "If you must, I'll bring you back."
"Promise?"
"No promises," he said, and kissed me like no one else could.
53
There were times when strangers found us and said strange things. One night an exorcist came again, determined and bright-eyed.
"Girl," he said, "you have demon qi."
Logan stepped forward. "You don't know how to tell a story," he said.
The exorcist stuttered and then bowed, humiliated. He was not a villain; he was a boy who couldn't stand being outmatched by a fox.
54
Years folded like pages. Our son learned to shift and to run. He learned to fetch seeds and hide behind my skirts when a lion strutted by.
Once the little fox returned from seeing a snake sheered for horns.
I laughed and scolded lightly. Logan pinched my waist. "Remember when you climbed into crocodiles' lairs as a child?" he teased.
"I almost died," I said. "Don't tell our son that."
He grinned like a fox. "It makes the story more fun."
55
The chest of jewels remained a secret. He'd collected them one by one—small bright things he couldn't taste but treasured.
One dusk, I opened the second chest and found it full of glittering light. I squealed.
"Why do you keep these?" I asked.
"For you," he said simply.
I pressed my forehead to his and whispered, "Then for you too."
56
"Tell me," I said one night as we lay under a sky so thick with stars it felt like a blanket. "When will you say it? When did you fall for me?"
He traced patterns on my belly with a finger. "When you stopped being my child and started being something I couldn't let go of."
I snorted. "You terrible man."
He smiled crookedly. "Don't forget, you're worse."
We kissed under starlight, the valley breathing softly around us.
57
I am Kynlee Barton. He is Logan Herrmann. We have a son who will learn to be both human and fox. We have a valley full of loud, messy, loving beasts and a chest of impossible gems that glint like a secret. We have a tail and a promise that isn't the kind you say out loud, but the kind you hold tightly when danger comes.
"Can I touch your tail?" I asked him once more, when I was older and braver.
He studied me and this time, without cuts or tricks, he bent and offered it.
"Of course," he said.
I put my hand against the warm fur and felt the whole world tilt and settle into place.
The End
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