The White Werewolf || Season One: Ties That Bind

Chapter Sixty-Six

Ghelibol, 1258

Robin lurched into the room with Geralt leaning heavily on her. Jaskier was right on her heels, still apologizing.

"Jas, I really need you to stop saying you're sorry," she pleaded with him. "Just help me."

"Whoa there, big guy!" Jaskier grabbed Geralt's arm and helped prop up his other side as the man swayed. "Well, so much for that witcher constitution of his."

"It's because he drank that whole bottle of aphrodisiac you bought off that swindler's cart!" Robin protested. "Why did you even bring it with you?"

"Well, because I was going to use it later tonight, of course," Jaskier defended himself. "I didn't realize he was going to mistake it for his beer and chug the entire thing in one go."

She and Jaskier maneuvered Geralt over to the bed and dropped him on it. She could have used magic to get him up the stairs, of course, but it hadn't seemed prudent in a crowded inn, especially with Geralt out of commission.

The witcher flopped onto his back and grunted.

"Why do you need aphrodisiac anyway, Jaskier? You're a perfectly healthy young man!"

"It just makes it more fun sometimes, all right?" Jaskier retorted. "Geralt should be fine. I mean, I'm pretty sure a whole bottle would kill a regular human being, but he's hardly that, is he?"

He glanced over to check on the witcher, his eyes widening as they flicked down to his pants. "Oh," he observed, his voice slightly strangled.

Then his eyes got wider. "Oh," he repeated, his voice an octave deeper.

"What?" Robin asked, looking down along with her brother. Then she murmured, "Oh."

Geralt was harder than she'd ever seen him, his thick length swollen and straining the fabric of his tight black pants.

"I can't heal him, Jas," Robin muttered. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Well..." the bard ventured, "he's going to be uncomfortable for quite some time. It might lessen his discomfort if you did, you know... him."

Jaskier continued to stare, remembering what he had seen in Rinde. "If you can last however long he needs, I'll be very impressed. And a little scared, honestly. I always knew he was a stallion, dear sister, but my goodness. You are indeed a gifted woman if that is what breaches you night after night."

Robin smacked him in the chest. "Jas!" she hissed. "Don't be gross!"

Geralt suddenly sat straight up, shaking his head and huffing. "What the fuck happened?" he growled.

Jaskier chuckled. "Oh yeah. Look at his pupils. They're the size of plates."

He knelt down and clapped Geralt on the shoulder. "You've been dosed with aphrodisiacs, my friend," he informed the witcher. "Like, massively."

Geralt turned and looked at Jaskier's hand on his shoulder. He hummed appreciatively and reached up to rub the bard's fingers, looking at him lustily.

"Whoa!"

Jaskier stood and jumped back so he was no longer touching the witcher.

Robin laughed. "I thought you'd been waiting for a chance to bed Geralt, dear brother," she teased.

"Not when he's like this. He's going to be an insatiable animal. Good luck."

With that, he scampered out of the room, leaving Robin alone with Geralt.

The witcher looked at her tenderly and held out his arms. "Please come to me, little mage. My desire for you burns like fire," he begged.

Warmth immediately pooled in her belly, but she hesitated. They'd been together for a long time, but he was drugged, after all.