Suzaela stiffened but snorted. Picking up her own mug, she slammed it down in front of him, sloshing a little on his drink-bloated belly. “I stand corrected. Forgive me, oh great King-chief,” there was a wealth of sarcasm in that title, “have another drink. Nay, a pitcher.” She motioned one be passed down the table. “Here,” she made a show of fetching it for him to place it next to his plate with a flourish, “allow me.”
Ekodar paused, ignoring his pair bond’s sarcasm and the smirking twist to her lips, to lift the filled pitcher. About to take a drink, his head cocked, as if intent on listening to something. Puck, no doubt, the puller of the puppet’s strings.
Eyes narrowed more as he brought his drink to his lips and gulped.
Violet, lavender, and gold fought for dominance. If they could those glowing orbs would spark. I could see the change coming over him, his body jerking unnaturally, those odd eyes shining, ever-changing with color. Did no one else see it, or did they simply wish to pretend it wasn’t happening?
Puck-struck, that was the look on the Chief’s face, the way he stared off dazedly for a moment to jerk back to reality, when his other half had taken over.
Jaw clamped tight, muscles in his face ticking, veins in his neck bulging as he surveyed the concerned looks of the villagers, he glanced down at the pitcher in his hand, taking a deep breath before intentionally allowing it to slip from his fingers and crash to the ground. Chin lifting, back straightening, he stood proud, arrogant, his hands lifting towards the sky as he began to spout some gibberish.
One amongst the revelers responded in kind, then another.
It was some kind of prayer or thanks I didn’t understand. Each did something with their hands as they spoke, making a star looking sign over themselves before bowing their head.
One by one down one end of the table to the other, the words were repeated, all but the chief’s forgotten children and spouse, who said the words quietly, lacking the same reverence and enthusiasm as the others, forgoing the hand gestures. Kvigor, sitting beside his sire quietly, didn’t bother with any of it, quietly sipping from a goblet with a winged wolf and Minotaur clasped in battle carved into it.
Making sure to pause on Adelric, myself, and even Vachel, then, briefly, Kvigor, the pompous, bloated goat of a Chief announced, thumping his pitcher to the table to toss his hands up towards the sky, “The almighty All-father has blessed me! I, Ekodar, have been chosen!”
Oh brother. Watching his theatrics, his voice booming over the startled crowd, the villagers gasping and gaping, I wanted to snort out loud.
“He has told me many a great thing, and I have allowed him to see through me! You will all come to accept this, and our village will prosper from our lord’s hand!”
Cough-bullshit-cough. Possessed by a sexual deviant, lover of the All-father’s spouse... Possessed by the All-father himself... Potatoes-tomatoes. What happened to the good old fashioned assumption the old coot had gone batty or was a witch possessed by the devil himself? Where was a juicy, unjust witch hunt when you needed one?
If they actually bought into this hogwash, they were all doomed.
“And first of my lord’s orders...” He made a grand gesture, his arm sweeping out slowly, pausing every so often like he was a magician about to pull a bunny from one of the many folds sagging along his chest. He paused, fingers wiggling, then passed on Kvigor and Adelric, smiling in satisfaction when his hand came back around and he paused for far too long on Vachel. “You.” His smile disgusted me, the gleam in his eyes making my stomach twist.
Stiffening where I sat, it took everything in me not to leap up and stomp down the length of the table, ready to bash his brains in.
Anything he had in mind for the girl was going to be nasty, plain and simple.
“With a new era comes a new order. I say it’s about time we started doing things a bit differently around here.” He was focusing on the men now, nodding like he expected them to agree, naturally. “For far too long we’ve lived under the idea we’re to be left at the female’s mercy. For far too long we’ve abided, growing desperate while they’re complacent, un... accommodating. Unruly, even, wild in their runnings, forcing a bull to chase after them, beg and scrape for their attentions. Why, even this wingless, her people have no such notions. They leave the matings in the father’s hands.”
Oh, damn. Oh, shit. He wouldn’t!
His eyes met mine and his smile widened.
Fuck.
“Who would I be if not a male who means to live by example?”
No-no-no, my panicked mind screamed. My hand went to my mouth to muffle a gasp, eyes wide. This wasn’t to be Vetra and the maze all over again! I’d take off with the youth well beforehand if he thought something like that.
As his arm kept going, sweeping about this way and that like Tavros’ worst showman, his lips pulled into a wide, malicious smile. Knowing what I’d done, exposing a chink in my armor to my enemy, giving him exactly as he’d sought, I wanted to vomit.
At my panicked look he knew he’d figured me out, the Trickster had found a weakness, knowing by now beating me down wouldn’t quiet me, and fully intended to exploit it—her. Mental warfare, head games, and I’d just inadvertently dragged Adelric’s cherished little sister into it.
“A mate, for... my daughter, Vachel!”
Shocked whispers erupted.
The pink parts of Suzaela’s face, the tip of her snout, a lighter pink like Kvigor’s, and the ends of her ears, the only part of her with white fur, turned an unpleasant shade of plum. Her bright maroon eyes bled a shimmery red steeped in silvery pink.
And as if to make matters worse, “It has been decided our brothers to the north will be joining us! I’ve gotten word this eve they mean to come after the first frost. I have sent a missive back with my third in command, Bainan Cormanson, in the hopes they’ll be sending a bride for my successor! All hail Kvigor! Prince-chief!”
The King-chief had found a new body, and soon a new bride, and he was going to use Kvigor to accomplish this.
Kvigor looked to his sire, his jaw dropping as he began to splutter. Anger quickly followed, red flushed eyes narrowing, thick nostrils flexing as tiny smoke stacks puffed out. Yet, he did not say a word. Not a single protest spilled from his lips.
My heart sank. Sharp pains stabbing my chest, constricting it as if it might suddenly stop all together, it felt like it was drowning in a pool of its own blood.
“NO!” I bellowed. My outburst had more than a few jumping. No. No-no-no... Shaking my head, I gripped the table for support. Dizziness washed over me. “No,” I repeated, calmer though no less vehemently. I was shaking, trembling from head to toe, eyes shimmering as I met Ekodar’s shining purple irises. “You think to break me, but I won’t.” I sounded tired to my own ears, resolute. “You think to use them,” my hand swept the table, encompassing all of his potential victims, “but they won’t let you.” And just to get in the last jab, I stood straight, slipping from my seat, making as if to walk away. “You’ll never be half the man, the King, Oberon, the All-father is. False gods and kings playing with beings like chess pieces, it’ll all come crashing down. One day, no one will believe in you, Peacock. The Abandoner, the traitorous, treacherous Puck will be no more, nothing but a myth, a legend, a cautionary tale to scare small children into-”
“Cease.” Purple flushed eyes narrowed, wide mouth twisting into a snarling smile, all teeth.
“Heresy! False king! Look in your hearts, what do you see?” Reaching over and lifting a spoon, as I’d been offered nothing else in the way of utensils, I waved it about like the madwoman he claimed me to be. “That? Him? A chief looking to be king, King-chief. Don’t be so easily swayed by sweet promises from false idols!” I shouted, throwing my arms up, laughter bubbling from my lips. Chucking the spoon down the length of the table, ignoring the stunned gasps as villagers shot back, like they feared the wooden spoon might turn into a snake and strike at them or explode, I was headed away from the fea
st and all the lights before Puck could have his say.
“Don’t you walk away from me! You harbinger! Demon! Devil’s bitch! Charlatan. Harlot! Do you not see what she does? Trying to poison the well with her insipid tongue! How easily her lies spill from her mouth!” There was more, but I wasn’t listening. Trying to walk and breathe was task enough.
The draught’s effects were already dimming and my strength was swiftly waning, but if the mad clansman’s raving ranting was anything to go by, I thought with a smile, my work here was done.
Shivers had my teeth starting to chatter, the tips of my fingers, my nose, my toes, prickling most worrisomely. My mouth was dry, skin hurting to the touch—the fevers were ravaging me anew.
“Enough!” he called towards the darkness I’d found solace in, slipping behind huts, weaving my way back to Suzaela’s. “Someone cease her! She must be taught! Must be tamed!”
More yelling ensued. The sound of footsteps fast approaching. I was done.
The tiny thought hit me—if I died this night it would all be over—no more problems, no fae pawns in an improbable game. If they hadn’t realized the sum did not match the numbers and shite was amuck, well, would they ever?
I’d be FREE…
A guardsman was on me, but I was already dropping to my knees, swaying to list to my side.
Thick arms caught me. Hands reached out to help, brushing my calves. “No one touches her,” a deep voice snarled. “Go. Leave us.”
“But- Ow!” A plaintive whine breached the thundering in my ears, bugs chirping, water bubbling nearby. If I hadn’t known Bainan was playing errand boy I’d have thought it him.
“You wish to see the rest of this night, Gavrael,” Yhem grumbled, “or your fool twin, should he make it back from the Northlands, you’ll do as he says.” Gravel shifted, the sound overloud. “You all will. Go. You heard him. Your lead guard, the Chief’s Enforcer, has spoken.”
“King-chief,” someone who didn’t much care for breathing corrected.
Yhem snarled, someone yelped, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. “Have you another, fools? Anyone else wish to kiss thine fists, brothers-mine?”
Silence but for the pounding of feet.
More boots tromping, hooves stomping away.
The King-chief had sicced his entire troop on me.
“Shouldn’t have said that.” Adelric looked to me but addressed the yak-otaur.
Yhem snorted. “Like I care for their mad king and his ‘punishments’ anymore.” Reaching back, he patted his battle axe. “Let them just come and try to take me on. Bash their mekpeas for brains in, all o’ them. Silly fools.”
“You’re sayin’ you believe the mite, then?” the dark-furred bull man asked carefully, his voice low, inquisitive.
“Wouldna be saying a mite.” Yhem’s white teeth flashed in the dark. “Bit more to her than a bite or two for a mite. Pixie demon for sure, but a mite? Nay.”
“He believes me,” I breathed, lifting a shaky hand to point at him—well, where I hoped one of him was, it was hard to tell with all three of him watching me like that. “Has a brain in that shaggy head of his.”
Adelric’s face was shadowed, his expression masked in the poor light but for his glowing eyes.
“Be off then,” Yhem said in way of parting. “Someone has to corral the rest, send them gobber chasin’, eh.”
“Thanks be,” Adelric grunted in reply.
Reaching up once we were well and truly alone, my fingers brushed his thick cheek. “Knew you wanted to fuck me,” I joked, mock flaring my nostrils. “Too bad you won’t get the chance, huh?”
“Demon pixie,” he muttered, but I could hear it, just there. The poor sod was forcing back a shocked laugh.
“Tease.” My free hand wiggled its way to his skin beneath all that curly fluff. He was warm, so warm.
Closing his eyes, he nuzzled into my palm on his cheek, if only for a moment. “You’re not worth the trouble you cause,” he breathed.
“You’re exactly right. Good thing your brother figured that out before it was too late to take it back.”
Glowing gold eyes popped open to scowl down at me. “You don’t understand,” his big body trembled when I kneaded the heated skin beneath all that fur on his heaving chest, “Kvigor is, if anything, foolish and impetuous. Cocksure and bloody vain. They are faults in him I find hard to forgive, so you’ll understand my... harsh... feeli- My... temper towards him. But never has he been intentionally cruel. If he-”
“Don’t defend him,” I snapped. “You hate him as much as I do, maybe more.”
Tempers flared, his good old family loyalty, altruistic bull side rearing its ugly head. A glaring match ensued.
“Besides,” I added with a whisper, leaning in closer, feeling a bit cruel myself, “we all know intentional cruelty is your cross to bear.” My hand lifted from his cheek and I bopped him on the tip of his snout, smiling a mean smile when he flinched.
Adelric’s jaw dropped, face going ashen. The monster of a Minotaur looked poleaxed.
“Adel,” Yhem called awkwardly. Damn and blast. He was still there?
Adelric jerked back as if my touch burned.
“Right,” I whispered, bringing my hands to my chest. “Kvigor is the vain one. Why should he care so much what anyone else thinks? You certainly don’t share in that vanity? Nay!”
At my look he shook his head, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Doubly right. Can’t get caught fraternizing, openly friendly, fighting like an old mated couple with the insolent wingless. What would that say about him? What would his asshole sire think?
His hands tightened on me, his thumb brushing across me gently where Yhem would be none the wiser of the action, as if to soothe. It had the opposite effect. He ceased when I stiffened, a little growl building in my throat.
I didn’t know how to interpret that, snorting and rolling my eyes. I’d never be someone’s dirty little secret, not intentionally or any other way, not again, and not if I could help it.
When I shivered, teeth chattering anew, my keeper frowned, gently pressing his snout to my cheek. “You’re burning up.”
“Just leave me here,” I muttered faintly, “save us all the headache.” wriggling as if to gain my feet again, we both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Silence,” the beast hefting me up to stand to his full height ordered.
“Put me down.” A groan left my lips. My stomach was doing a wonderful impersonation of a fish, flipping and flopping, roiling until I thought I might retch or pass out.
Adelric sucked in a sharp breath.
The sound of heavy breathing alerted me to another presence. Was Yhem still standing there? Neither of us wished an audience right now.
“You should be with the others,” Adelric said finally. It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t speaking to me.
“I came to- I needed... How does she fare?”
“How do you think?” the dark-furred bull beast muttered, his words hissing out of him. Then he was moving. His steps stomped across the gravel noisily in his haste. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet, or careful. My skin pulled, body jostling. If anything, the male very well might be drawing attention to us.
To get rid of Kvigor?
Just in case, I gave Adelric’s chest a thankful pat. “Good bully beastman.”
Adelric’s sigh was slow and long suffering, his steps slowing with it. “You said that aloud, vacha.”
“Did I?” I mumbled, trying to lift my head to glimpse his expression, but it was too dark and the action was proving near impossible. Eyes narrow little slits to peer around from, that would just have to do. My head felt like it was weighted down, a heavy anchor sitting atop my neck. If only the blasted thing would keep me grounded.
“Grounded from what?” the amber-eyed beastie holding me murmured.
“You, him,” I mumbled, lifting my hand from his chest where it was burrowing in his fur to hook my thumb over his shoulder at Kvigor. “Everyth
ing. Sometimes I wonder if it would even really matter.”
“If what would matter?”
“What’s the difference, really, what would it make, should I suddenly cease to exist.”
“You matter, Addie-mi- Riadne,” Kvigor blurted, clearing his throat when Adelric looked to him sharply.
“Do you not have a feast to attend?” the Enforcer hissed at his younger sibling.
“Do you two know how not to fight?” I was getting sick of it, all of it, the squabbling, the posturing. For what? Me? Hah! Certainly not.
When it grew deathly silent I squinted, glancing between the pair. “I said that aloud, didn’t I?”
Kvigor made a noise.
“Yes.” Adelric wasn’t even going to try and pretend. “And why should I, vacha?”
“Why should you what?”
“Try to pretend.”
God damn it, would I never cease this incessant- “Pretend what? That you don’t look at me like you’re thinking about my offer? Like you don’t wonder what it would be like, if but for the novelty of it? Hmm? And stop calling me that! Vachel told me what it means,” I huffed, scowling in the general area of his face—at least, where I thought it was. His eyes no longer glowing, only Kvigor’s bright reds, I was basically in the dark. “It’s not funny.” My arms folded over my stomach, hoping to ease the turmoil churning in it, and I harrumphed.
“What offer?” Kvigor grumbled. “What offers are you making?”
“None of your business, abandoner,” I hissed. “A banished princess, really? And it did not occur to you that might put me in more of a position, considering your kind don’t care for humans? You... You rotting crotch flap! Should have left me back at the caves in the tree.”
Kvigor grew quiet, offering Adelric a turn to nettle.
“And this bothers you?” the dark-furred beast prompted.
“That your brother set me up or that he tried to shove me off on you, which is so much worse knowing you abhor one another, might I add.”
By the Horns Page 30