“It’s Kvigor,” I burst out, struggling hard. Lifting my hand, I jerked it towards Kvigor’s snarling face. Yes, he was still snarling and snapping, raging, coiled tight, about to pounce, but the being before us was definitely Kvigor. And if any of the things he and Adelric, and at some points even Vachel and Suzaela had been trying to convince me of were true, he wouldn’t harm me, not intentionally, not really.
A thick arm lifted, his hand turning until it was palm out. “Come,” that deep voice rumbled, darkened fingers curling towards him. “Mine. Addie-mine,” he started to croon, though that gruff, mouth full of rocks tone never shifted.
“Like hells,” Adelric barked, lifting to crouch by his brother in front of me protectively.
“Damn you, Ferdinand,” I shouted above the Tauran posturing, “would you just- Urgh! Trust me! Get outta my gods be damned way!”
“NO!” the obstinate beast ground out harshly.
“UP! NOW!” Thinking he might assist Adelric to his feet, Kvigor lunged, moving fast, snatching up his older albeit shorter sibling by the thick fur at his neck. Giving him a shake that rattled both of us, he forced my dark-furred bull man to release me, for Kvigor to then lift him up and send him hurtling across the room.
“No! Stop! Adelric!” I screamed, watching helplessly as the male did a horrible impression of a furry, flying disc, slamming into the wall clean across the room, taking out the small end table and crate along that wall, with him. But my male was no worse for the wear, popping up with a raging beast snarl, teeth bared, nostrils steaming. Eyes glowing burnished gold, he prepared to charge his attacker.
“Stop! Wait!” I shrieked, prepared to jump between the two if that’s what it took.
Both males looked to me in unison, as if realizing, knowing me, I was likely to do something like that or equally as foolish.
Kvigor, closer, stomped forward, bearing down on me with that unholy glint in his eyes.
Hands thrust out, I waved them at him. “Wait! Wait-wait-wait!” I found myself hesitating, backing away slowly at his approach. “Just listen to me, because I know you’re in there.” I gulped audibly. “Somewhere.” My back hit the fat chest along the wall and I tumbled, my ass slamming into it, head about to slap the wall as hard if not harder than my butt to that heavy trunk when a hand as wide as my face caught the back of my head.
He was quick, his reflexes fast, hands like thick mitts, but there was a gentleness and caring to his actions. This was my Kvigor. Whatever’s gone on, been done, this was the male from the labyrinth.
“Good catch,” I blurted breathlessly, gaping up at him.
Something in that hardened scowl and those mindless eyes clicked, a flicker of the old Kvigor coming through the quick but short-lived twist of his twitching lips. It was there and gone in a flash, and then I was being hauled up by my very naked ass, one hand under my bum, the other slipping beneath my armpit, and I was lifted high, turned, and promptly deposited on the bed, where I was abandoned for the lure of the glory of a bloody battle.
My gaze snapped to Adelric as my ass hit the furs, a hardness in his expression that said this was more than fending off his brother’s rage.
Stumbling to stand on the bed, hand slapping to my hip, the other pointing to waggle at them, I screeched warningly, “NO! No, no, no! This ends now! Don’t you dare! I- Are either of you listening to me?! You will not- Do either of you hear me? Be fighting over me! I refuse to choose!”
When two swirling gazes met mine I glared right back. I could feel it, that angry haze washing over me. I wanted to pummel both of them until they saw reason, box those twitching ears of theirs until they howled like screeching toddlers. And of course, uhm, saw reason. Ahem.
Kvigor blinked at something in my expression, the snarl in his throat stuttering, his gaze straying to Adelric questioningly, who shrugged, offering, “Many things have... occurred since your absence. She has accepted the All-father in exchange for gifts he claims will aid our endeavor.”
The strange look was lost on me, but I was simply hoping I was doing a convincing enough job showing them just how mad I was to get them to stop.
Then, just to rub it in, my curly-mopped lover added, “Vacha has accepted me in both forms.” A sly look overcame the dark Minotaur. “As the Lord’s vessel and her mate. She is mine.”
“MINE,” Kvigor rumbled low.
“MINE,” Adelric growled out just as vehemently.
Heavens help me.
Male posturing resumed, both males moving to take their places in this bedroom battle.
“Ferdinand! You aren’t helping any!” I shouted above the din. “There isn’t enough room for this! Suzaela will be furious if you ruin the house of the All-father!”
Everything, all of it, fell on deaf ears.
“Do it! Go ‘head! Rip each other’s balls off and slap each other with them! See if I care! I hope you choke on them!”
I got twin dirty looks for that comment, but then it was back to this deranged backyard, brother brawling, battling. They circled each other, eyes flashing, teeth gnashing.
“Gods damn you both!” I rallied, cursing a blue streak.
My eyes caught on a glint of tarnished brass along the wall then, then the shield, of which was in much better condition, the one with the mark of the beast on it, by the foot of the bed.
They want to fight? Why not. Fight. I’d give their ears the ringing of their life to do it to, though.
Rushing the wall, standing on tiptoe, the sword Adelric had been trying to free before he’d had to abandon his efforts to dive at me had been left dangling there, still half attached.
“See how they like being scared witless...” I muttered under my breath. Anger boiling, roiling my gut, I reached for the handle, wiggling it until I could pry it loose. “Of all the... stupid... ridiculous... forget the shield, I should just brain them with the hilt of this monster and be done with it! Op-”
The sword slipped free with minimal effort, but it was horribly heavy. My arms strained just trying to lift the blasted thing. Gripping the hilt with both hands, fingers squeezing tight, I turned, lifting the heavy implement, a snarl in my throat, when I felt it.
Gasping, I sucked in a sharp breath, zap after zap slamming into me, one after another like the crashing waves along the rocks in the early hours along the cliff’s edge. Just wham, bam, slamming into me, stealing my breath away. The force of them sent me flying back, but my hands refused to relinquish their hold.
Heat, fiery, molten heat, from my fingertips, burned upward. This was the painful zapping from the stone horns back at the labyrinth times a thousand. Bolts like lightening zipped through me, until I was croaking out a crying gasp, jerking, trying to scream. Mouth open wide, nothing came out.
Tears blurred my vision.
I understood, even in my pain soaked mind, something important was happening, something fae and otherworldly, but why or how was escaping me at the moment.
Hands were on me immediately, to disappear, male shouts of distress barely pricking my consciousness.
The sword vibrated, a sort of bell sound issuing from the metal. It was singing to me, literally, whispering the Queen’s favorite tune with a masculine flair. This wasn’t Titania’s favorite song, it was his.
My body a will of its own, began to softly, mindlessly hum the tune back, even through the pain.
The burning was excruciating, my chest heaving as I tried for breath. My lungs were on fire now too, my eyes shortly following.
Gold, sparks all around me, growing brighter, blindingly so. I wanted to die, wanted to let go, anything but this, not again, never again, but I couldn’t.
Slowly, forcefully, I managed to clamp my lips shut, the distant sound of males bellowing and crying out in pain continuing to prick my ears. They were fighting to get to me but couldn’t. He—my eyes slid downward and I stared at the light hallowing the sword, white hot and growing brighter, rending the flesh from my hands, layer by layer—wouldn’t allow it.
Teeth gritted, I gripped the sword tighter, eyes squeezing shut tight, ignoring the blistering heat, the smell of burning, rotting flesh, and fought it.
It wanted me, to consume me, body and soul, but I’d be damned if I made it this far to just give it all up to an ugly bit of metal! The Trickster couldn’t best me, or the King’s Mad Queen. Felled by a clunky, singing sword? I think not.
Huffing through gritted teeth, forcing everything to the back of my mind, shoving it into that little mental room to slam the door shut and lock it, I put everything I had into lifting that sword up. It weighed a thousand pounds now, I’d wager, dragging me down like Satan’s hounds had me in their grip, teeth clamped down and digging in, tearing, rending flesh, each tugging me a different way, desperate to drag me to Hell.
“You won’t control me,” I screamed in my head, unaware I’d managed to grit the words out. “You don’t control me.” The sword jerked, lightening to drop like a leaden weight. “You can’t control me!” The acrid stench of burned flesh was strong, drowning out all else. Pain seared up the sides of my back. Wind whipped along my sides. It just fanned the flames. I could barely keep my eyes open against the glowing embers emitting from the sword, shooting up, amber and flames, to float back down, like fiery snowflakes, to scorch my exposed flesh.
I have the power, I told myself. It’s mine. MINE! Like the daggers and the two bumbling siblings killing themselves to try and help me, it’s mine, all of it, this stupid, smoldering sword now, too.
A bellowing war cry ripping from my lips, legs braced, slowly, fighting against that dragging pull, I lifted that stupid hunk of tempered steel high, until it was just over my head. “You’re mine! Do you hear me, you useless scrap of junk?! You’ll do as I say, or by Oberon’s might may we both perish! I will not relent!”
Brighter and hotter that sword’s heat grew, the metal turning a scorching, blistering red. The heat from it alone, the steam as heated as the fires in the smithy’s forge, forcing me to turn my cheek, else I feared it might melt my face off. But my hold, I wouldn’t relinquish.
The heat was so fierce, I accepted the possibility this might very well be my end.
The tears on my cheeks long dried from the sword’s tormenting flame, I turned blindly towards my mates, my males. “I love you,” I whispered hoarsely, “both of you.”
That muffled shouting grew, but it was no use, I could no more hear them than they could reach me.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, then, turning away, lifting the flaming sword, a wild cry on my lips, ripping from my parched throat, I swung the gods be damned thing through the air, until it was spinning in a wild circle over my head. The words came to me then, like remembering an old song. Dizzy with the rush of it, sending a silent prayer to Adelric’s All-father, I ground out, “We are one! Accept me!”
And that was it.
In a flash, there was a streak of light, black spots dancing in my vision, it burned so bright, brighter than the suns, hotter than a funeral pyre, and all that heat, every last bit of it, fled. Like being ripped away by a whirl of wind, it was there and gone in a minute. Intense pain to nothing, like there was nothing left to incinerate, nothing worth feeling, and I was numb.
My ears rang from all the noise, and then I was weightless, tumbling, sword and all, drifting backwards like I meant to float on air.
It wasn’t until my eyes rolled back in my head, skull suddenly pounding, jaw clenching, body jerking, neck tense, coiled tight, that I realized the screaming ringing throughout the room had been me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Coming to in the pool should have surprised me, considering the inferno I’d attempted to make of Adelric’s room. Or maybe it shouldn’t have? I was so fuzzy I let it, all of it, lie. Whatever the case, I was done with zipping zaps and bolts of lightening, anything to do with pain or fires or scars, fae, or almost dying in general.
The grunting on either side of me was certainly no shock to me, though the careful, low, hushed tones gave me pause.
They were getting along? Truly?
“Have I actually kicked it this time?” I croaked out on a gravelly-voiced breath.
“Vacha?” a choked rumble entreated.
“Addie?” came the one directly overhead.
The position of said voices had me tensing, frowning. My grumpy warrior mate was in fact standing next to the male holding me, making the male holding me obviously Kvigor. My white bull beast cradled me to him like he feared I might disappear, murmuring something under his breath, over and over. Soft, sweet, sputtering out periodically to pick back up, it rather sounded an awful lot like a lullaby one might use to calm an infant.
My head ached something awful, more awful than I’d ever thought imaginable, and considering I had tiny buds for horns sprouting from my forehead and I was twice shocked by a warrior fae king masquerading as a god, that was saying something.
Shifting carefully, experimentally, I found my body sore, aching to the bone—of which I imagined would be so much worse if not for the temple’s soothing waters—but I was whole.
“I’ve all ten fingers and toes, I presume?” I muttered worriedly, afraid to try and crack open my crusty eyes and find out for myself.
“They are all still attached,” Adelric said after a long moment. There was something in his voice that had that lump in my chest skittering worriedly.
“Why does that not convince me?” I announced to no one in particular.
“Oh! Praise the All-father! She’s awake,” Suzaela proclaimed with a hearty clap of her hands, an action which had the youngest of her brood muffling a chuckle.
“You feared the All-father would fail her now?” Vachel blurted, incredulous. Lowering her voice, she said something too low for me to hear and Suzaela gasped, tsking the blunt but spritely Tauran.
“Hush, Vachel,” the high priestess chastised. “Matters not. The All-father has blessed her. Blessed.” She put an awful lot of emphasis on that one word, giving me pause. “We are blessed. And, in fact, I say we call a feast!”
“A feast?!” Vachel spluttered. “But- You- She- You cannot mean-”
“Pish. That is exactly what I mean!” The sound of hooved footsteps drew closer. “Addie, luv? May we get you anything? Are you in pain, dearling? A simple draught? Water? Tea? Food, perhaps?” If she didn’t sound so giddy for some dang blasted reason, beneath that worried tone, I’d have found it all perfectly motherly.
“Linen? To dry off. A shift? Clothes?” My voice still sounded funny, odd, dry, my throat a little itchy.
“I’ll go and fetch a tray and some linens, clean you right up. I’m sure we can find something to do with-”
Whatever she was going to say was cut off from a deep grunt from Kvigor, followed by one from Adelric. That didn’t bode well if they were both trying to shield me from something.
“Well, I’ll just go and get those things,” she said hurriedly, stomping hoove-steps clomping away.
Waiting a full minute, until the only sound was the water lapping at the pool’s sides and our even breathing, I dared to ask on a weary sigh, “How bad is it? Just tell me? This was your All-father’s ‘gift’, wasn’t it? A sword to sear my flesh off? Is it even still here? And, please, if you understand the relevance of it in some ancient text or myth I’m unaware of, enlighten me.”
“The sword is here, and you are hearty and whole,” Adelric said slowly, careful of his words. “There is talk of a sword, a trial by fire...”
“Literally,” I squawked, perturbed.
Perturbed, hah, I was thoroughly disturbed.
A thick, furry hand came up, brushing across my cheek. “You are the same as you ever were. My vacha, my mate,” lips pressed to the side of my head, by my temple, an act I found strange if only because of the location, “MINE.”
Kvigor’s answering rumble to his brother’s emphatic words was merely that, a low pitched grumble of discontent, nothing more.
“What else?” I huffed out, mak
ing both males chuckle.
“Is that not enough?” I could hear the relief in my dark-furred warrior’s voice.
When I would have quirked a brow, lifting my head to turn, my eyes slowly slid open, forcing me to squint from the blinding lights shining down on us so brightly from overhead. I couldn’t ever recall them being so disgustingly bright before, sharp pains shooting beneath my eyelids as I grunted in discomfort. Leaning forward, my visage reflected in the water, I got one look at myself and stiffened.
Eyes widening, my hand lifted, shaking so badly I feared I might poke my own eye as I lifted it towards my face. “And these!” I nearly shouted, curling a hand around one of the small, spiraled horns jutting from my head, “When, dear Ferdinand, were you going to tell me about these?!” Eyes bulging like they might pop from my head, that’s where my fingers, blackened from my claw-like charred nails and palms, like I’d dipped my hands up to my wrists in pure darkness, went. “Or these?!” A clawed finger jabbed near my eye, the whites of them both gone black, irises, pupils, completely blacked out. “Well?!”
“Gifts.” Kvigor finally spoke, watching me with an unreadable expression on his serious mug. He looked too serious, somber. How long had I been out and he’d been practicing being Adelric?!
“Gifts? I look like a demon!” I garbled out, spluttering, stuttering.
“A demon who can summon the sword,” Adelric reminded. “The Great Beast’s sword.”
“Great beast? So he’s made me a great beast!” I fairly wailed.
Kvigor and Adelric exchanged a look, their lips twitching in unison.
“It’s not funny! Don’t you dare laugh!” Struggling in Kvigor’s hold, I was fully aware I was lying around in a pool with two males and anyone could just walk in, like Suzaela and Vachel hanging around getting an accidental eyeful of my butt naked arse wasn’t enough. I was suddenly desperate to be free of both of those lunatic hooligans smirking down at me like I’d just done or said something bloody adorable.
By the Horns Page 49