by Bianca Mckay
“Thought you would like that, Thame,” Aribelle said with a wink in his direction. “You should never do theater, just so you know. You suck, like really bad. You may have thought your eyes were tiny slits, but they were wide open, and your breathing shallowed every time one of us spoke.”
“Well, nine hells, I thought I was doing pretty good. Good morning, beautiful. Did you miss me? Is that why you’ve come back so soon?” Thame asked in a gravelly voice.
“First of all, it has been about twelve hours, which is later than I intended to come back. Second of all, I didn’t come to see you; I came to retrieve you. You are a prisoner, an intruder, not my friend, or part of the pack. And lastly, it could be twelve lifetimes since I saw you last, and it still wouldn’t be long enough for me. Got it?” Aribelle said, blowing smoke from her mouth and glaring at Thame.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Thame replied with a cocky smile. “I can see the heat in your eyes. You want me.”
“Yes, well, I did want you…for lunch, but I’ve rather lost my appetite after you smiled at me with black teeth,” Aribelle said, her eyes going to the door.
Dru turned his head as far as he could to look at his brother. Laughter burst from his mouth as he watched Thame lick his teeth nervously, but the black tint wouldn’t disappear.
“What is wrong with you?” Wren snapped.
Dru’s mirth fled in the face of Wren’s furious outburst. His stomach sank as she opened her mouth, looking as though she was about to decimate the lie they were trying to sell to the Alpha.
“Do not growl at my patients, Wren. What seems to be the problem?” Aeson asked as he stepped into the hut.
The breeze that flittered through the hut with the healer’s entrance had Dru’s hair standing on end as gooseflesh popped along his exposed arms. Dru noticed that although the healer’s words were admonishing, the man did not look particularly concerned with Wren’s shouting.
“I do not believe I have ever heard you talk louder than a whisper. This is good,” Declared a woman who entered on the heels of Aeson.
“Alpha,” Both Aeson and the woman said, bowing their heads to Aribelle.
“Tarja, I’m glad you’re here. Do something about these prisoners and their filth before I vomit. I cannot stand the stench any longer. It’s like days old fish and sweat,” Aribelle commanded.
“I agree, Alpha, it is most unpleasant,” Tarja replied with a wrinkle of her nose.
Tarja took a few steps towards Dru, her hand cupping her cheek while she chewed on her fingernail. Tarja stood at five feet, with long brown hair that hung in tight curls; her body was toned and muscular, with soft curves. Her brown skin was flawless, her big brown eyes expressive, and her sharp bone structure exquisite. The only thing about her appearance that Dru did not much care for were the fangs that flashed as she gnawed on her fingernail.
Dru could feel a change in the air, the prickling at the nape of his neck warning him that danger was near. Warm waves of soothing pulses caressed his skin as Tarja held her hands out in front of her, humming lowly as her magic trickled over him.
“Back to Tarja’s point, I agree. I’ve never heard you shout before. What happened while I was away?” Aeson asked as he dropped a burlap sack stuffed with herbs and medicinal finds onto the tabletop.
“Wren had an itch,” Aribelle said with a sly glance between the woman they were discussing and Dru.
“Oh, my dear,” Aeson said with a pitying look. “Do not sully yourself with the likes of this common peasant. If you wish to corrupt the humans, you go for the nobility…unless, of course, you’re just feeling peckish.”
Wren’s face was flaming now as she buried it in her hands, avoiding the stares she was getting from everyone. Dru felt sorry for the humiliation this was causing her, but as long as everyone believed her story, he pushed aside the voice in his head, telling him to come to her defense.
“She even stole his coin as payment,” Aribelle said, running her tongue over her top teeth.
“In that case, it does not matter who you defile, as long as they pay you well enough,” Tarja chimed in, though her eyes were closed as she swayed, her hands hovering over Dru’s body.
“This is very true. Although you’ll want to be careful. A slippery slope that path,” Aeson warned as she unpacked his bag. “A man approaches you for a roll in the sack, and the next thing you know, an entire village is coming for you with pitchforks and burning your house down. You’ll be Goddess-sent to some, and the spawn of Hades to many others, whilst the men you lay with will be seen as victims.”
“Hush now, Aeson. She was already feeling ashamed of her carnal desires. Do not frighten the whelp anymore,” Aribelle said with mocking laughter.
Aeson paused in his task, looking at Wren incredulously.
“Whatever for?” He asked with confusion.
“I didn’t want people to think I was a whore, alright?” Wren shouted from behind her hands.
“I think ‘Sex Expert’ would be a better title,” Tarja said as the warmth surrounding Dru increased.
“Agreed,” Aeson said. “Look at it this way, my dear. An assassin is just an expert in killing. The bad guy is always the person who hired the assassin. So, who is really depraved in this scenario, the one who excels in giving pleasure, or the one who seeks to pay to experience it?”
“I think it should be a regular occurrence,” Aribelle said thoughtfully. “I’d like a gift or payment every time I allowed a man the honor of fu—”
“I would give you the stars, should you give me a chance,” Thame interrupted.
“She almost ripped your throat out, brother. Never going to happen,” Dru said.
With a tired sigh from Tarja, the warmth vanished. There was a surprisingly minty taste in Dru’s mouth, which also no longer felt dry. Gone was the dirt and grime washed away by Tarja’s magic. The witch had changed his clothes too; now, he was wearing comfortable, loose-fitting pants, akin to those in which Thame sparred. The smell of their misfortunate was replaced with a masculine musk that was a mix of fresh rain and spices.
“It is done, Alpha,” Tarja said, taking a seat near Aeson.
Aribelle nodded to the witch wordlessly.
“It’ll happen, you’ll see. Why do you think she left me shirtless?” Thame asked.
“It’s so you don’t bleed all over freshly laundered clothes,” Aribelle deadpanned.
“Do you think she means that, Dru?” Thame whispered as Aeson and Tarja’s laughter filled the hut.
Dru had no doubt in his mind that the Alpha had meant what she said. Aribelle had some kind of nightmare planned for them, torture probably. Dru could only hope that Wren would find the perfect opportunity to free them or slip the potion to Aribelle by herself. Either way, he needed to send a missive to his father to inform him of their arrival in Jurot and of everything he learned thus far, which was not much.
“Alpha, when will we be departing for Rynoch?” Aeson asked.
“We leave in four days’ time. If the prisoners live until then, we will take them along with us. Wren, as you seem to be trying to acclimate to your new life, you can assist me during our travels,” Aribelle said as she stood from the table.
“W-Why?” Wren asked, adding as an afterthought a very timid, “Alpha.”
Aeson cleared his throat and said pointedly, “The promotion of your status from apprentice to an assistant affords you many more privileges, including that of your own tent.”
“Oh!” Wren exclaimed; her eyes rounded in surprise. “Thank you, Alpha.”
Dru did his best to keep his emotions and heart rate under control. Their lie was not only believed, but it seemingly would come with many benefits. If Wren could be alone, she could plot their escape, and perhaps even get a letter to his father. He would have to be very careful and wait for the right time to explain everything to Thame and ask Wren to send the message to Vildaheim. It would be the worst of luck to come so far only to fail and continue to let this
beast advance her plans to overthrow the kingdoms.
Thunder rolled across the land, a low rumble that warned of an impending storm. Aribelle stood, and Dru tensed, not prepared for the pain that would come when the beast decided it was time to play with her food.
“Yes, well, at least you will be able to rut like a bitch in heat in privacy. I mean honestly, if only I was a few minutes later arriving, I would have had to bear witness to what you’re willing to do for a few pieces of silver,” Aribelle said with a derisive laugh.
A part of Dru was getting increasingly desperate to see Wren slap Aribelle so hard that spit would come flying out of her mouth and leave her swollen and stuck drooling on herself for a week. Unfortunately for all of them, Aribelle was the type of foe you could only defeat by cunning and stealth. A physical fight would only end in claws and fangs, neither of which Dru or Thame had, and Wren was too appalled by them to use her own.
Aribelle hummed low in her throat thoughtfully; her head cocked as she stared at the bindings on both Thame and Dru.
“Tarja, if you would, darling,” Aribelle said, gesturing the woman to come forward. “I’d like them in something that is less tied-up-for-a-good-time and more that-is-a-good-boy.”
Again, a warmth rushed over Dru, like he just dipped himself in a hot bath, as Tarja’s magic swept over him. The rope melted away, only to be replaced with iron manacles with a thick linked chain that attached to the shackles that appeared on his feet. A thick leather collar squeezed his neck uncomfortably, but not enough to cut off his air supply; a thin silver chain connected to a hoop on the center of the collar at the base of his throat and Tarja held the other end. With what felt like a whirlwind blast of air, Dru and Thame were both on their feet, chained and collared, each with their own leash.
“Don’t they just make your mouth water?” Aribelle asked with a faux dreamy sigh.
“Oh, yes, Alpha. I look at them and am not quite sure what exactly I’m looking at. Bedmate or snack? Either way promises a delicious treat,” Tarja agreed, licking her lips.
With a sharp jerk of the chains, Aribelle beckoned them closer.
“Come now, boys, it’s time for some answers,” Aribelle said as she led them to the door.
Dru narrowed his eyes at her back, his jaw and fists clenched in undignified fury.
“What, you don’t want us to crawl too?” Dru spat from behind.
Aribelle turned to him, one thin brow raised as she smiled widely.
“What a marvelous idea. Yes, yes, I do,” Aribelle said, looking at the ground expectantly.
Dru continued to glare at the beast before him until an agonizing pain radiated throughout his body, dropping him to his knees. The pain abruptly stopped, and through the tears that had welled in his eyes, Dru saw Thame kneeling beside him. Another sharp yank of the chain had both brothers on all fours, with their only options being to crawl or be dragged through the dirt.
“From now on, keep your mouth shut,” Thame griped from beside him.
“At least I have a backbone, brother, and stood up for us both. The only thing you have standing up is your cock, as usual,” Dru snarled.
“Quiet, my pets, or there’ll be muzzles,” Aribelle said serenely as she forced them to crawl on the hard ground all the way to her cabin.
Making sure that Aribelle was not looking, Dru turned and mouthed to Thame, “This bitch needs to die.”
Nine: The Prick
“My beauty, come quickly, we have found an intruder in the forest.”
“But, Momma, I don’t want to kill them anymore.”
“Morning, boys!” Aribelle called cheerfully as she walked around to the back of her cabin.
Dru awoke with a start and began to sob loudly, his body trembling with the knowledge of what was to come. For the past three days, Aribelle had been cruel, relentless in her ploy to get answers from them. Thame looked at her without an ounce of trepidation, showing no outward sign that the past few days were a hellish nightmare.
And they were, but not because she beat him bloody, or because she sank her dagger into his flesh many times over. No, they were a nightmare because Dru had to witness it all, screaming his bloody head off, thinking that Thame would die no matter the magical healing that Tarja performed. Dru had started off strong, not wavering in his conviction to remain loyal to their kingdom and not say a word about why they were in Jurot. But Thame could see his resistance waning. Dru would cave if he had to take one more day of Thame’s suffering.
Thame had tried to soothe Dru’s worries. Yes, it hurt quite a bit, but the healing magic numbed him for a bit too, so he faked many screams lest they caught on to that particular fact. The truth of the matter, however, is that Thame understood Aribelle’s actions. He, too, would be trying to torture information out of intruders, and he would do it ruthlessly. The real problem he was having right now was understanding why Dru had already lost all hope.
“Please don’t hurt him anymore,” Dru howled in misery.
Aribelle smiled as she walked towards them, inspecting their hands as she did every morning. Their hands were raised high above their heads, their manacles linked through a closed loop on the post, and were left standing on the balls of their feet every night. In the mornings, Aribelle would let them down, as she did now, and hook the chain connected to their collars to a hoop close to the ground to allow them to sit for their torture session.
“Not to worry, Druas. I won’t lay a finger on Thamyris today,” Aribelle said brightly.
Thame’s stomach dropped as the world seemed to pause. The breath froze in his lungs, his heart skipped a beat, and for a moment he thought he would faint. He shared a look with Dru that had Aribelle cackling.
“Goddess, save us! She knows!” Aribelle screeched theatrically. “We’re going to die! She’ll kill us, Goddess, please! Have mercy!”
Thame fought back a smile. This woman really was like no other he had ever met. She was completely insane and a total bitch, but he couldn’t help but admire her beauty, her strength, and the way that every so often he swore he saw a whole other –slightly more humane—side beneath the cutthroat beast she was. Even now, knowing that she had two princes as her prisoners, she didn’t care and would continue to do as she pleased, consequences be damned.
As Aribelle continued her theatrical performance, Thame watched a ghost of a smile on his lips. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail with a few thin braids that were fastened with small red feathers. She wore a crimson bustier with black lace trimmings, a black cloak that a secured beneath her breasts by a leather belt, and her wide-legged trousers flared near the ground covering her heeled boots. She was breathtakingly stunning as far as Thame was concerned.
“We do not pray to the Goddess, just so you know. We still believe in the gods,” Thame said in a bored tone.
Aribelle’s head cocked in an eerie manner as she glared at him. Thame was confident that this tactic worked on many others, probably scaring the piss out of grown men, but he was not one of them. All he wanted to do was grab her, perhaps shake some of the bitchiness out of her, then kiss her senseless until she cared about nothing more than his arms around her. He chose instead to bare his teeth, part smile, but also part challenge as a storm brewed in Aribelle’s expressive blue eyes.
“You think I am amused?” Aribelle hissed. “Why have the princes of Vildaheim come to sniff around?”
Thame leaned his head back lazily against the post, taking his time to mull over his answer. She did not know the truth, which meant that his brother’s new friend, Wren, did not betray them. As it was, they were still in a tight spot with the beast who could kill them the instant she decided to be done of them. They were essentially spying in her kingdom, and Thame had no delusions to that. She was Queen of Jurot, of the beasts, which made him question why his father sent them here to begin with. When kingdoms clash, emissaries are sent to draft treaties and negotiate terms, or there is a declaration of war. Their quest to enchant this woman with m
agic no longer felt noble, but rather a ruse to trick her into uniting the kingdoms by marrying Druas or some other ghastly deed that Thame had no desire to imagine.
“If anyone sniffs around, Belle, it would be you as your snout drags on the ground. I must say, I felt bad seeing you in your other form. Your head is far too large for your body, it is no wonder it drags along the ground as you walk,” Thame said as he closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth from the sun.
The nights were hardly tolerable, strung up like a dead wild hog in the bitter cold. They were wet more often than not as well, the storms coming inland from the sea on either side of Jurot made for a nearly constant downpour of rain throughout the day.
“Let me tell you what I think is going on,” Aribelle whispered in his ear, causing him to start.
“Gods above, I didn’t even hear you coming. Are you certain you’re a dog and not a cat?” Thame said with a shake of his head, his dark hair curtaining his face on each side.
“What I think is this,” Aribelle ground out between clenched teeth. “I think my mother has been very naughty. I believe she went to your father in an effort to regain her place here, or to force me to submit to her. What I don’t know is how both of you are going to attempt to make either of those happen. You barely snuck into Jurot. You needed saving during your first ten minutes here. You haven’t even tried to escape.”
Thame kept his face carefully blank, showing none of the confusion that he felt. He knew nothing of these beasts, hadn’t considered that someone must have raised Aribelle, that she had parents. He had gone from thinking her born from a wolf, turned into a human by magic, to not caring about anything other than the fact that she existed. He scoffed to himself, realizing that he came here to enchant the beast, but slowly she was the one enchanting him.
“We are not here because of your mommy issues,” Dru snapped from his seated position.
Aribelle turned sharply, standing next to Dru and running a lengthening claw down his cheek.
“Then what are you here for?” Aribelle purred.