Virgin Outcast: Bred to the Beast

by Fannie Tucker

  Rela nodded. "Then it is done." She turned to Kara. "Come, child. I will escort you to the edge of the village." She turned and strode out of the light, not bothering to look back.

  Mayor Shen and the other stepped aside and watched Kara follow the Wise Woman out into the night. She had no other choice that she could see.

  The night felt colder now, without Mykal beside her. Musicians still played on the green, but their melodies seemed a shrill mockery now as she followed the Wise Woman along a cobblestone street. The houses grew further and further apart until the cobbles thinned to a rutted dirt road. Rela turned then and regarded Kara with her cold eyes.

  "Child, would you have Mykal for your husband?"

  Kara's jaw fell open in disbelief. This woman would banish her, and now offer this? She wanted to shout, to rage in her anger, but Rela's serene face stopped her. What if the woman truly could see her with Mykal? She bit back a cutting reply and simply nodded.

  "Then you must do as I command," Rela said. "Follow this road until you reach the stone bridge. Beyond it, a footpath leads into the forest. Follow that path, and at its end you will find a cabin. Sleep there tonight. Tomorrow, someone will bring you food. He will demand that you leave, but stay until I send for you, and Mykal shall be yours." She stepped closer, and Kara felt the withering intensity of her gaze. "It is the only way. If you disobey me..." She left the threat hanging in the air and stepped away, hurrying back toward the village.

  Kara's mind reeled. Only minutes ago she had been in the heat of passion with her betrothed. Now she was an exile. "Rela!" she called. "Will you please tell my mother and father that I love him? And Mykal?"

  Rela turned once more. She looked up at the full moon, and her eyes shone in its pale light. When she looked back at Kara, her face was an emotionless mask. "Stay on the path, child. Dangerous things walk in the darkness." Then she turned and was swallowed by the night.

  Kara hurried along the road. Scattered farmhouses sat well back from the road like dark beasts skulking at the edge of fields. Krall was a small village, and Kara knew who lived in each one. She considered stopping to beg for help, but their dark windows looked like black eye sockets, unnerving in their stillness. Besides, Rela's threat was clear; if Kara didn't obey, she would never see Mykal again.

  After a few miles, the road grew thin, with fewer wagon ruts. Tall brown grass grew in a strip along the center. The trees were closer, tall, slender sentinels that crowded either side, their bare branches like long, skeletal arms reaching for the bloated moon above, casting mottled shadows across Kara's path. The still night air seemed to magnify every sound, from the mournful cry of a night owl to the skittering sound of some creature moving through the fallen leaves.

  She thought of the disappearing livestock and the farmers' rumors of some terrible beast. In the bright merriment of the festival, she had laughed those rumors away, but here they seemed more plausible. She quickened her step, and when she heard the whisper of running water ahead and saw the stone bridge, she felt relief.

  Kara crossed the bridge and stared at the narrow path leading into the forest. She wanted more than anything to turn and run back to Krall at full speed, to burst into her parents' home and hug them, weeping as she confessed her sin. To snuggle into the quilts on her little cot and forget that this dreadful night had ever happened.

  She started to turn back, but as she did, the burble of running water grew somehow menacing, as though it obscured the quiet stealth of a predator somewhere in the darkness. A horrible foreboding filled her, and she knew with certainty that if she fled back toward Krall, something dark and huge and violent would burst from the trees and take her.

  With a shiver, she forced herself to go on, plunging off the road and up the narrow trail into the woods. It wound like a snake through the old trees, their trunks twisted with age. As she walked, she sensed movement in the forest to her left, something flitting through the shadows with deadly grace. Something big. Big enough to take down a cow, she realized. Maybe farmers knew more than she gave them credit for.

  She moved faster, almost running now, her heart hammering in her chest loud enough that the pounding in her ears hid the quiet rustling of the night forest. She kept her eyes locked on the ground ahead, refusing to look, knowing that something stalked her, keeping pace just out of sight.

  The trees opened in a small clearing, and Kara almost wept with relief at the sight of a small, rustic cabin. Its windows were dark, and she didn't know whether someone was inside, but she plunged heedlessly out of the woods and sprinted across the clearing. Behind her, she heard something crash through the undergrowth, moving fast. She scrambled up onto the porch and grabbed at the front door. Behind her, whatever had stalked her grew closer, barreling across the clearing with unnatural speed.

  A sudden feeling of dread overwhelmed her terror. The door would be locked tight, and she would be torn apart.

  The latch gave smoothly, and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Kara threw herself inside and grabbed the door. She saw something outside, a darker shape against the ghostly gray of dead grass in the moonlight, huge and manlike. For an instant, two yellow eyes shone like coals, wild and hungry. Then the door slammed shut and the latch clicked home. Her fingers scrambled in the darkness to find the crossbar, and she dropped it into the iron brackets flanking the door.

  A shuddering sigh escaped her lungs, but her heart still raced. She looked around the small one-room cabin. In the darkness, it was difficult to make out details, but she sensed that she was alone. Moonlight filtered in through high, narrow windows, too small for a man or beast to enter. Kara checked the crossbar again, impressed by its sturdy thickness. Would it keep out whatever that had been? She had to hope that it could. At least the creature hadn't tried to break down the door.

  She edged along the wall as quietly as she could and peered out one of the windows. Nothing moved that she could see; the clearing was empty and still in the moonlight.

  Feeling along the wall, she found a sturdy bed frame and fell down on the feather-stuffed mattress, utterly exhausted. She lay staring up at the dark, wondering if she would wake. She pushed away the memories of the last few hours, denying the harsh reality of her banishment and the unseen creature in the woods as her mind built protective walls to shield her from what she could not yet face. Despite her terror, sleep found her quickly.

  Kara knew she dreamed, but it felt so real, more intense than any dream she could remember. Her body was insubstantial, feather light, and she floated on the breeze through the moonlight night, gliding along the cobbled streets of Krall as though pulled by some unseen force toward the center of town. Around the slender oak, benches and chairs cluttered the village green, but only a smoldering pile of blackened wood remained of the roaring bonfire. The revelers had gone, and all was still.

  Onward the force pulled her, toward the long clapboard town hall. She slipped through the crack between its doors like fog, past the rows of benches, past the podium, and down the flight of stairs near the rear.

  The village stockade was a small room in the basement. A chair for a guard sat unoccupied across from two cells made of iron bars. One cell stood empty, but Mykal slumped in the other. Love and sorrow filled Kara's heart at the sight of him, but someone else was in the room. Rela stood over him wrapped in a silk robe that clung to her flaring hips and large round breasts. Pale hair cascaded down her shoulders, and she looked toward Mykal with the same fire in her eyes that Kara had felt only hours before.

  Kara tried to call out, but she had no voice. She tried to leave, but something held her in place, a soul without a body, forced to watch as Rela slipped a small bronze key into the cell's lock.

  When the gate swung open with a shrill sound, Mykal's head jerked up, and his eyes widened when he saw Rela. "Why have you come, Wise Woman?"

  "Silence, boy," she said. "Would you have Kara for your wife?"

  Mykal nodded. "Of course. I love her."

  Rela's s
mile was colder than the grave. "If you would have her, then you must first take me."

  Mykal's deep brow furrowed as he frowned in confusion, but when Rela slid the silk robe off her shoulders, understanding dawned in his eyes.

  She stood over him on the rough hay, her nude body all ripe curves beneath her tight, smooth skin. A rawhide cord hung from her neck, decorated with sharp white fangs bigger that a wolf's. Kara wanted to scream, but she had no voice. She willed herself to wake up, tried to flee this awful dream that she knew to be reality. The Wise Woman had used some dark magic to summon her spirit here.

  But she couldn't run, couldn't wake. She could only watch as Rela stood naked before her betrothed.

  Mykal's eyes were locked on the thatch of golden curls where Rela's legs met. He swallowed nervously. "But I'm in here because..."

  "Never mind that," Rela said. The cold ice in her voice had melted into soft seduction. "If you take me, you will have her. Otherwise, I can promise you will never see Kara again."

  "Will she know?" Mykal asked.

  Rela smiled. "No one outside this room will find out. I promise you that." Her eyes flickered toward Kara's invisible form, and she reached down and took Mykal's hand, then bent forward and took his fingers in her mouth, sucking gently. A look of delight came over her face as though savoring some delicate treat. "I can taste her sex on you, Mykal. How did it feel, having your fingers inside her, knowing that she wanted the rest of you, that you were so close..."

  Rela's eyes flickered past Mykal's shoulder, and she met Kara's gaze as though she knew Mykal's betrothed was watching. Her lips curved in a mocking smile, and Kara wanted to howl, to pound on the bars, to lash out, but something held her in place.

  Mykal's breathing was faster, his broad chest rising and falling as Rela sucked his fingers. When he finally rose to his feet, the Wise Woman took one of his big hands and guided it between her legs. Her head rolled back on her neck, and she sighed as his fingers curled into her slit. At first, Mykal simply let her slim hand guide his, moving him in and out, but as he felt her wet heat, he began to move of his own accord. He stepped closer, and his free hand cupped Rela's ripe, round breast. He rubbed and massaged, running his fingers over the big nipple until it grew firm and dark with desire.

  Rela unlaced his pants and drew forth Mykal's cock. His manhood stood out hard and thick, betraying Kara with its arousal as she watched the Wise Woman stroke her fingers slowly up and down its length. Kara didn't need to see the tension in Mykal's shoulders or the way he looked at Rela to know that all the pent-up desire from their earlier encounter was boiling up inside him now like floodwaters ready to burst over a dam.

  Her betrothed lunged forward and grasped Rela's buttocks in his big, rough hands and pulled her lush, ripe body against his own. Rela gasped as he carried her forward and slammed her against the bars of his cell, but she spread her thighs and wrapped her slender legs around his narrow waist, crossing her ankles behind his back and pulling him in.

  Rela shuddered as Mykal entered her with a savage lunge. As his hips thrust forward and impaled her on his manhood, he froze, and Kara saw the astonished ecstasy on his face, the shock he felt at the soft, slick tightness that surrounded his shaft. Kara had been meant to give him that moment, and Rela had taken it from her. For that, she hated the Wise Woman.

  Mykal moved with a quick, hungry lust, pounding Rela against the wall as the small woman wrapped her arms around his broad back, raking her fingernails up and down along his hard muscles. Over Mykal's shoulder, Rela stared into right into Kara's disembodied soul, a wicked grin on her face.

  Then the Wise Woman flicked her fingers, and Kara felt herself spiraling away, spinning backwards through the cell, out into the empty hall, across the green, and back through the forest to the lonely cottage where she lay sobbing until sleep took her.

  Kara woke with a start, expecting to find a pair of yellow eyes staring at her in the darkness, but morning had come. Bleak sunlight shone through the high windows, and outside she heard the clattering of bare branches moved by the wind. She had wrapped a thick bearskin around her body to stave off the night's chill, but now she cast it aside and stood up, smoothing her dress as she looked around.

  In the daylight, the cottage seemed normal, if quaint. A stone fireplace dominated the far wall, and an iron cookpot hung above the ashes. A well-crafted wooden rocker sat before the fireplace, and tools hung along one wall near a small cupboard. It seemed the kind of place a solitary man might live, a hunter or trapper, perhaps.

  Kara's stomach rumbled with hunger, and she went to the cupboard and peeked inside. A few dishes, but no food. Worry began to gnaw at her gut. If she couldn't go back to Krall, how was she to eat? Would she have to beg to survive?

  Something thumped against the door and interrupted her thoughts. She jumped and let out a little yelp as she spun. The heavy crossbar was still in place, but it rattled in its brackets as something hit the door again. A muffled curse came from outside, then all was still.

  Kara stood frozen in place, not wanting to breathe, the memories of last night's pursuit still fresh in her mind.

  "Rela must have sent you," a deep voice said from one of the high windows.

  Kara screamed in fright, but the face at the window belonged to a man. A thick black beard covered his strong jaw, but he had ruddy cheeks and the dark complexion of a woodsman. His eyes were deep brown, not yellow, and they seemed gentle, almost weary.

  "Who are you?" Kara said, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

  "You're inside my house," the man said. "Better I should ask the questions. Now will you open the door? I've got two fat coneys here, and I'd like to get a stew going."

  The man called himself Luther. He was lean and lanky, but with wide shoulders and sinewy muscle of a man who lived hard. Hairy forearms stuck out from beneath his buckskin jerkin, and Kara found herself watching him move gracefully about the cottage. He skinned the two rabbits he'd brought and cooked a delicious stew with fresh vegetables from his small garden. Luther didn't speak much, but he seemed at ease in her presence, and completely unsurprised that she was there at all.

  When the stew was finished, Kara sat before his crackling fire and ate hungrily. The woodsman watched with amusement as she wolfed down two bowls of the thick, meaty stew.

  "Why are you here, girl?" Luther asked, when she finished.

  Kara's face flushed with shame. "I was exiled from Krall," she said. "For... indecent acts."

  Luther raised an eyebrow. "Did you let him put it in you?"

  Kara thought her face could grow no redder, but she wanted to crawl back under the bearskins when he looked at her with those brown eyes. "No," she said at last.

  "A virgin then. She's persistent, isn't she?"

  Kara didn't know what he meant. Perhaps living alone in the woods had made him a tad crazy.

  "The Wise Woman said that didn't matter. She called me a temptress, and said I had to go."

  Luther stared at her for a long moment, his expression carefully neutral. Then he snorted with disgust. "Wise Woman? Is that what Rela's got those sheepherders calling her now?"

  Kara pushed aside the memory of Rela and Mykal, of being forced to watch as Rela seduced her betrothed. In the light of day, it almost seemed she had dreamed the whole thing. Almost. "Rela is a powerful witch," she said, surprised to find herself defending the Wise Woman. "She sees omens and guides the village."

  Luther chuckled. "Of course she does," he chuckled as he caught his breath. "What else would she do, farm potatoes?"

  Kara frowned. "I've never seen you in the village. How do you know Rela?"

  His smile disappeared. "Our paths have crossed. She's a dangerous woman, full of treachery. But you know that now that you've fallen afoul of her. Exile is probably for the best." He stood and headed for the door. "You should head for the lowlands. There are things a girl can do there to earn a respectable living. Forget Krall."

  "I can't," Kara said. "My betr
othed, he..."

  "I don't care about your sad story, girl," Luther said. "You're an outcast now. There's no point staying near your village. Move on. You can take the rest of that stew with you, and some water from the stream, but I want you well away from here by nightfall." His lip curled in a savage snarl, and his posture implied more than a threat.

  Kara thought of the beast in the darkness, the one that had pursued her here. A chill ran up her spine. "Rela told me to wait here. She..."

  Luther slammed a fist into the clapboard wall, and the whole cottage shook with his anger. His voice was soft, but full of menace. "I don't give a squirrel's tail what that woman told you, girl. When I come back, I don't want to see you here."

  "Where are you going?" Kara asked.

  "Hunting." He stepped outside and slammed the door behind him.

  Kara rocked back and forth in his chair. Rela had predicted this. Someone will bring you food. He will demand that you leave, but stay until I send for you, and Mykal shall be yours. She curled her arms around her knees and tried to stay calm. She wanted to flee, but if Rela spoke true, this was her only chance to be with Mykal. She went to the door and looked outside. Luther was loping across the clearing, empty-handed, without even a pack. She tried not to notice his graceful movements, or the way his tight leather pants stretched across hard muscle.

  She turned back inside, then froze. Luther hadn't been carrying a bow. What man could hunt without one? Why would he lie to her?

  She slipped into her sandals and went outside. Countless beads of glistening morning dew coated the dead grass, and Luther's footprints cut a clear path into the woods. She followed, moving quietly as she hurried down the gentle slope. The trees grew close together, and soon Kara could see less than a stone's throw ahead. She heard water running, and soon she saw a narrow brook winding through the forest.

  Luther made no effort to hide his trail; he'd followed the stream, and Kara kept her eyes down as she followed his long stride from one boot print to the next, each clear in the soft soil by the stream.