By the Horns

by Jeanette Lynn

  “We will not be doing anything! I’m dying,” I lied, “your hefty cow hide has crushed my innards and my belly has slowly been filling with blood. Any moment now I shall perish, in anguish.”

  “Liar.” An amused snort left him. He didn’t seem the sort to be given to such things. Dramatics probably just made him want to roll his eyes, nothing more. The male runs his own chief’s army, what did I expect? Lifting his weight off of me, though he still held me down, I found myself staring up at the dark-furred warrior. His chin jerked to my palm. “I mean to see your hand, vacha.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I spat. “I am not anyone’s vacha, whatever that stupid word means.”

  “I take it Kvigor has taken to calling his pet this?” he guessed.

  Though my eyes spit fire, my lower lip began to tremble. “I’m not- was never,” I managed to croak out hoarsely, even as tears filled my eyes anew, “his anything. I’m no one’s pet.” Then, because I could, “He calls you a eunuch.”

  That large bull’s head cocked, the action so animal-like I found myself staring after him. “I’m sure he did.”

  “He thinks you a dick-less prick.” More lies, but I was aiming for an ally in all of this.

  As if sensing my bold lie but unwilling or uncaring of it, he pretended the words had never left my mouth.

  “You say you are not his anything, yet he calls you vacha, and you refer to him as your pair bond... So you didn’t just renounce him in front of the village and try to cut through your marking?”

  “Who said it had anything to do with him? I could have been renouncing a god? What marking? Maybe I am as mad as they say.” Without the weight of him crushing me, I still felt as if there were a ton of bricks atop me.

  “Which god?”

  My lips pursed mulishly, eyes narrowing until I was squinting up at him. “All of them.”

  “You are mated to gods?” Thick lips twitched, wide ears flicking. Alright, now he was just having fun with me.

  “Sure. Why not,” I muttered woodenly. The fight was slowly draining from me, leaving me with nothing but this broken, empty feeling. What did it matter what this male thought, or what transpired between Kvigor and me to him?

  “Are these all of them you’re mated to a single being, a big, white, stupid, impulsive creature?” His lips quirked, but I failed to find the humor of the situation.

  “I don’t know,” my gaze skittered away, settling somewhere in the vicinity of his thick shoulders, “no. Maybe. I suppose that depends.” I dared a peek up, catching myself on gold blazing eyes. They literally glittered in the dark. “Are you going to help me drown him in the pond outside the village?”

  “You don’t mean that.” That tiny quirk of a smile cresting his taciturn mug fell.

  “No,” my jaw worked as I forced myself to hold it all in, “I don’t.”

  The stiffness in his shoulders eased, his gaze returning to that curious, shrewd look of before. Gold eyes swirling with bronze lingered on my hand. “Have you any more markings?”

  Before I could say anything he’d released my bloody hand to examine the other. My fingers curled but it was no use.

  “The Map.” A thick, wide finger traced the odd pattern, no longer lit with pretty fairy light dots, and he sat back. Holding his hand out, palm up, his fingers waggled.

  I blinked up at the gold brand lining his palm, a perfect match to mine. Adelric, too, had the map marking.

  “I don’t understand...” Blinking up at him, I frowned disconcertedly. “Have you been to the labyrinth, too?” But Kvigor had said our markings meant we, he and I, were meant to- Damn and blast. Kvigor, obviously, would have told me whatever I’d wanted to hear, so long as I showed him the way out of that deathtrap of a maze. What else had he led me on about? Or was that his only truth?

  Fat lot of good destiny and fate and whatnot mean to the male.

  Adelric, warrior beastie to his chief, lackey to his idiot brother, blinked. “It’s real? Truly?”

  “Yes,” I said slowly, wondering at the look on his face.

  “Kvigor’s stories, then?” A look of pity crossed his face and he slowly rolled away from me. The motion was fluid, strangely graceful, and before I knew it he was on his feet, standing over me, holding a hand out. “Is it true you’re a princess?”

  “I’m a- I’m a... Wh-wh-what?”

  “A banished princess locked in the cavern, forced to stay there ‘til you die.” He tapped his ear with his free hand, the other, thick palm held out, waiting.

  “No,” I sputtered, flustered, cheeks pinkening. Me? A princess? Hah! “What rubbish. Who’s saying that?

  “Kvigor,” we muttered in unison.

  The vehemence of our practically snarled words had us both blinking at one another. Why would he tell people that? Wouldn’t a dead, wingless princess be more to these creatures’ fancy, ensuring my undoing, than some poorly peasant? Was he trying to get me strung up by a village of Taurans full of hate for humans?

  “Come.” He meant to stand there until I accepted his proffered hand.

  My hand lifted, hesitant. Grunting, kneeling, hands encircling my middle, gripping my waist to haul me up, he made the decision for me. Plucking me up effortlessly, he held onto me just long enough to make sure I could hold my own and then released me.

  Once on my own two legs, my gaze darted about. Goblin dung! Where is my-

  “Your dagger?” his deep voice rumbled. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of it, it was so unexpected. My hand went to my heart and I gasped, staring at him.

  When I nodded, glancing about his person for any sign of my weapon, he grimaced. “That’d be with Ekodar.”

  “B-b-b-but it’s mine!”

  Massive shoulders shrugged. “I know that, and ye know that, but the Chief doesna care.”

  “It’s mine.” I felt the need to say it again.

  “And for the time being, ‘tis his now. Know what’s best for you, wingless, you’ll let it lie.”

  “It won’t accept him. And don’t call me wingless, beast.”

  “Enchanted, is it?” He thought himself funny, his lips quirking in a smirk, but I failed to see how any of this was amusing.

  “The King gifted it to me in the labyrinth,” I informed him haughtily. “He spoke to me through it, it’s...”

  “Beron himself, eh? And did you happen to eat anything funny in this maze of caves the future ruler has been yammering on at length about, trying to impress the young lassies?”

  My jaw tightened at the mention of Kvigor and any ladies. He was supposed to be MINE. My chest squeezed, aching, eyes burning. Another brick bearing down on me, crushing me, mind, body, and soul.

  A devastating sense of betrayal wormed its way deeper into my gut, eating me alive from the inside out.

  Glancing to this Adelric, walking alongside me like I didn’t pose a threat, I muttered, “And I suppose you have a little cow woman of your own and a brood of wee beasties waiting at home for you? Or do you truly lack the equipment to get the job done? Is that an... Enforcer thing?”

  “No, and my pairing, mating, penis, or lack thereof, is none of your business.”

  “Aren’t pairing and mating the same thing?” Steps slowing, I wavered, biting at my lip. Could I really trust anything this Adelric says? Then again, who else was I to learn anything from?

  “No.”

  “What coming together, uh, constitutes fucking? You know, love making.”

  The bull man’s eyes widened curiously before narrowing. “That’d be pairing, but it’s also for breeding and raising a brood if you don’t see fit to tie yourself down forever.”

  My hands were wringing now and my heart was pounding. No-no-no. “How long does one of these, uhm, parings last?”

  “It dissolves when one party tires of the other, usually when the young are of age, or they might decide to mate.”

  “Mating, it’s forever?”

  He nodded curtly.

  “What does one d
o to mate? Is there a ceremony?”

  I was getting the strangest looks from the Enforcer, but he finally relented. “Of a sorts, you could say.”

  Fuck. I wasn’t even mated to Kvigor. We were just... tup partners ‘til either of us tires of the other. “Whoo. My head.” My heart, was it even beating anymore? It felt like everything inside me had locked up, just stopped. I’d have fallen if the bull beside me didn’t catch me.

  Why was the room spinning? Oh, that’s right, because I’d been duped by a Minotaur into agreeing to be his fuck partner, his free whore, no commitment required but an I won’t fuck anyone else for as long as we last. Until he tired of me. But he’d called me his mate, his wife, hadn’t he? He’d claimed to care for me, shown it when words failed him? Except when he was being broody, sniping at me.

  All lies. Everything, all of it. None of it meant anything to him.

  “I feel funny,” I mumbled.

  “Look funny,” he muttered, then paused, hefting my weight, his arm coming up under my knees, the other at my back, to lift me. “Funnier than a wingless demon already does.”

  “Flattery,” I blurted, “will get you nowhere but fucked and left to fend for yourself with a pairing, a fucking pairing, a sack of lies and empty promises, and- and…”

  “And?” he prompted.

  My hand went to my forehead, but there were four of them. That couldn’t be right. “When did I grow more hands?”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, uhm... What were we talking about again?”

  “Lying bastards,” the Tauran said flatly.

  “Right.” Flopping back, my head lolled weakly against his chest. “That. Fuck those assholes. No! Go fuck themselves. Heh.” His fur was so fucking warm. I’d sheer it all off like a sheep’s and make a coat out of him, wrap myself up in his warmth and wear him all winter long. My fingers buried inside it, wriggling in the softness.

  “Thank you...” he gave a gruff cough that bordered on a shocked laugh. “I think?”

  “Damn it,” I whispered, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  “S’alright. Bit of a compliment.”

  “A fine damn compliment.” Gods, I was lightheaded. “The chief, uh, erm, king guy’s person’s son is an arsehole. I hate him.”

  “More head-speak I’m not meant to hear? You’re dead on your feet. Maybe not say anything more, eh?”

  This was probably the most he’d ever spoken in his life, the not so talkative bull man. Man of few words was probably his favorite catchphrase. Wonderful advice though. Shut up, Adne.

  “Still talking out loud, wingless demon.” He sounded put out, but I couldn’t sense an ounce of aggression or irritation from him. I’d almost think he said that unflattering little nickname as an endearment. Oh, boo, someone doesn’t like being picked on. Welcome to the club.

  “It’s not,” he grumbled. “I promise you, de- ah, it’s not.”

  Now I knew it was.

  “Still talking aloud, lov-ah, wing- argh, vach- ah, heifer?”

  “Endearment. Is that a question?”

  “Heh?”

  “Pet name?” I shook my head. “Me neither.”

  “What now?” He sounded so befuddled I laughed.

  “I like your floppy hair. You look shaggy. It’s kind of cute. I feel funny. You said love. Shut it, cowman. You have pretty eyes. I want to pluck them up and keep them forever. Like gems, they are, over these fuzzy things.” I tapped his eyebrows.

  We’d stopped. Why was he gaping? “What did you eat?” he demanded. He looked more flabbergasted than anything. Had no one ever told the male his eyes were beautiful and his fur was like that puppy softness, puppy silk—smooth and soft but thick, fun to run your fingers through?

  “Not, erm, recently.”

  “When? Yesterday or today?”

  “Ye be confusin’ me, woman. Answer the question!”

  What ques- oh, food. “Today?”

  He gave a curt nod. “Today.”

  “Nothing.”

  “No?”

  “There’s food in my pack, but I don’t know where that is.”

  “On me back.”

  My hand found a strap and I gave his wide shoulder a pat. “Oh, thank you. When did you pick it up?”

  “Back there. Vacha was fit to be tied, forgettin’ the pack altogether. Welcome. Seem a bit out of sorts, ah, creature. To be expected. Had a bad start.” We walked a ways. “My hair isn’t floppy.”

  “No,” my fingers made swirling patterns in his puppy soft curls, “it is. It’s the truth. I meant it. I like it. So pretty. I’m going to touch it.”

  “Huh? Aren’t ye already?”

  “Out... loud?” I was hopeless. A giggled snort escaped my lips. I’d said all that stuff out loud? My fingers burrowed harder beneath his fur, until I felt skin. Intrigued at the raised markings, I found myself counting scars across the expanse of muscles where a human’s pectorals would be. “It’s so weird you have no nipples, but this,” my hands smoothed over the thick muscles drawing down from his shoulders, “these are so familiar.”

  “Aye. Aloud. Just like right now.” He shivered at my touch. “Hands are like ice.” Though he made no move to stop me, he scowled. “Must ye do that?”

  “Impressive. It tickle?” I peeked up at him.

  “The ice hands?”

  “Your man... not-man breasts.” I gave one a soft squeeze.

  “Now yer just funny? Thinkin’ on havin’ a laugh at my expense? That’ll be enough of that, then.” His voice was a grumbling growl, steam billowing from his nostrils as his head dipped, warning me off.

  “No, I really like them. They’re soft and kind of… plushy.” My hands returned. Another squeeze, gentler than the last.

  “Ay, no, ahem, not, I mean,” he muttered, adjusting his hold so I was forced to let go, his voice taking on a grumble that rumbled my ear, “enough of that.” His chest flexed, the muscle hardening with the action.

  “Wow. So you’re not mated, then? Or paired?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re not really a eunuch?”

  “Have me cock and balls,” he said finally. “Last I checked they be in working order. Happy now?”

  Infinitely, I thought sarcastically. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I- Uh, I- I don’t,” his steps slowed, “know.”

  “I’m tired. It hurts to keep my eyes open.”

  A snort. “I can tell.”

  Lids slowly sliding shut, I peered at him through a half lid. “That my eyes hurt?”

  “That ye be tired.”

  “We should fuck.”

  “We- What?” he choked out, stumbling.

  “We should take all of each other’s clothing off, I’ll lick you from stem to sternum, and then we fuck. We fuck like... what animals rut like beasts?”

  “Beasts?”

  “Yeah. We rut like beasts. Say, do you have a human cock or a bull penis, or something between the two?” That’d show that asshole. That- that prince ass-ness. “We’ll show him. Call you a eunuch, toss me aside like trash! We’ll fuck until it hurts.”

  “Ah- erm, umph! Beg pardon?!” Adelric stumbled hard, hooves scraping the ground, almost dropping me in the process.

  “That’s okay,” yawning, I gave his chest a there-there pat and snuggled against him, “surprise me.”

  “We- You- what?!”

  I was halfway between the here and now and dreamland when he started sputtering, stuttering wildly. It was kind of fun to see the big guy all flustered.

  “It is not!” he insisted.

  Pfft.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We did not in fact fuck, as I’d so boldly suggested in my dazed and confused state, and I wasn’t any more eager to speak of my journey or time with Kvigor after he plied me with food and drink. No cock and bulls were harmed, exposed, nor handled in the middle of this night.

  Apparently, being the revenge male of a spurned lover wasn’t appealing to him. He did,
however, feed me, some type of roasted purple meat, stewed greens that weren’t all green, and spicy cider.

  The moment I’d finished consuming my meal, slowly starting to doze off next to my bowl, I assumed those spices weren’t all for flavor.

  When I awoke the next morning, I found myself in a small hut. A hut with an occupant.

  “You snore,” the dark-haired, maroon-eyed younger female Tauran I could somewhat recall from last night informed me. Vachmel? Vashi? Vachacha? Oh, forget it. I’ll let her introduce herself.

  “Good to know,” I said on a yawn, glancing around. Other small cots lined the walls, some suspended from the side of the wall, stacking the beds. Bunks.

  “Everyone else has already left. Adel asked that I stay with you. I should go and tell him you’re up.”

  “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of staying with me?” Scrubbing at my eyes, I groaned as I sat up. My feet were bare, stiff, cold. “Where are my boots? My-”

  “Adelric took them. I know not where.” Maroon eyes with long, dark lashes blinked at me.

  “Do you think I could get them back?” And my last remaining dagger, I tacked on silently, trying not to screech as a throbbing took up residence in my temples. Those daggers were mine. MINE! He had no right! He-

  “I helped him dress you.” The petite, in comparison to the others, sweet faced youth grinned at the idea. She was more of a young adult, but there was something rather childlike about her, a strong sense of innocence. “Never pictured brother dear for shy but there you go. Wouldn’t even look at you without a frog catching his throat.”

  My eyes strayed to my chest, a soft, cottony, long-sleeved shift encasing me. I didn’t need to look to know I was naked beneath.

  “You alright?” Her eyes went from my body to my hand. “I put salve on anything that looked discolored, wrapped your hand and tended it as well. How’s it feel? There are a lot of, erm, strange bruises on you.” She paused. “Large, hand shaped ones.”

  I had nothing to say about that, or the blasted male that put them there. Kvigor could rot for all I cared at the moment.