Bride of Glass

by Jeanette Lynn

  “Hel-p! H-ah-elp! Can’t! Swim!” Dipping back down, flailing desperately, the pond swayed as I dipped and bobbed, sending me drifting closer to the bank. There was a noise, drowned out as the waves I was making splashed back, slapping against me, then noises, movement along the edge of the pond. A snarl? A barked shout? I couldn’t make anything out but for a flash of white blurring past.

  It wasn’t until the water rocked, suddenly churning, taking me along, swept up in the mini tidal wave, that I finally heard it clearly—snarls. Those snarls moved closer.

  Help, I hoped, and screeched louder. I was panicking, paddling harder and harder, until my legs began to cramp and my arms ached. I was tiring myself out faster with my efforts.

  I knew I wasn’t doing myself any favors, and someone was obviously on their way, but I’d yet to sink back down towards the bottom.

  Now, what the snarl on the way chose to do with me once they reached me, praying it wasn’t Rek, I’d just have to find out.

  God, don’t let it be Rek, I pleaded.

  And just in case it was him and another may be about nearby, my cries for help grew.

  A big paw clasped my arm right as my leg cramped. I barked out a garbled shout, about to dunk under, another thick mitt gripping a fistful of my hair, tugging me back towards the surface.

  The second my head was fully above water I sucked in a huge gulp of air, gasping and choking frantically, coughing my partially drowned brains out.

  Sharp, claw-tipped fingers released me and I panicked, turning towards my rescuer, crying out hysterically. Gripping the beast’s forearm, I latched on, a thick arm securing itself under my backside to tug me towards a massive chest.

  My rescuer, who had jumped in the water and scooped me up, was now holding me—or, I should say, trying to, I was flailing about so wildly.

  Facilitating between coughing up a lung and sobbing openly, I wrapped my arms around his thick, furry neck tight, choking him as he lifted me up. He let out a short, shocked grunt, a gentle plea to allow him to breathe, too.

  “You saved me,” I gasped out, hiccupping, burying my face in thick, wet fur. I kept saying it over and over, too shocked to comprehend much else. I had yet another beast to feel indebted to besides my mate… Wonderful. Just wonderful. And yet I’d be dead without him, no doubt.

  At a familiar purr rattling my rescuer’s chest, I pulled back enough to peer blurrily into Tokre’s dark, jet black eyes. My lips trembled even harder than before and I let out a shocked cry of relief. That made two recues by my hairy captor.

  One kidnap, two rescues, I mentally corrected, but who was fucking counting?

  Making that weird cooing sound in his throat, adjusting me on his hip as he easily held onto me and kept us afloat, he lifted a hand to my cheek.

  Mine, he mouthed, an unreadable expression on his face, though his heart thundered harder than I’d ever felt. Bending closer, closing his eyes, he leaned in to nuzzle my forehead.

  Holding perfectly still as he sucked in lungfuls of my scent, I let him, studying him as he took his fill. Mine, he mouthed over and over, caressing my cheek, nuzzling my hair, as if I were made of glass, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t the only one shaking.

  Bellows shot off in the distance, startling me hard enough to make me jump, but Tokre didn’t react. Nope, Tokre didn’t move a damned muscle. Eyes widening as the puzzle pieces slowly started to fall into place, I tapped my mate on the shoulder.

  Blinking his eyes open slowly, Tokre pulled back to stare down at me.

  Covering my mouth, I shouted, “MINE!” and waited.

  Tokre frowned, grunting, watching my chest move, and tugged my hand away.

  Reaching up to smooth my hand along his throat, Tokre allowed it, eyeing me curiously, shivering as my fingers slowly trailed over his oddly shaped ears. Pulling my hand back, I softly snapped my fingers a few times on either side of his head, and waited.

  Nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a flinch or hint of anything. And I had my answer.

  “Tokre,” I called, staring him directly in the eye. Tapping my lips, I waited until he was watching them, and said his name.

  Mouthing his own name as I spoke it, following along as his fingers caressed my lips, he made a happy noise in his throat.

  Tokre mine, I mouthed and paused, watching as he stilled.

  Mine, he mouthed back, swallowing thickly, his eyes widening, his pale, furry throat working. The big beastie started blinking rapidly, gazing down at me as if I’d just given him the greatest gift.

  His reaction made me feel a little overcome myself, my insides going wobbly. I said it again, then smiled. Tokre mashed me to his chest, a deep, crazy growl tumbling from his thick lips. It was his crazy happy growl, the sound breaking every time he swallowed.

  I hugged him back, resting my head gently against him, and was rewarded with his entire chest vibrating wildly.

  My face starting to go numb, my cheek smooshed against him, I couldn’t help it, I giggled like a loon. “Oh! Oh boy. Some beastie liked, eep, that.”

  His, uh, joy, was further evidenced, put in an entirely different perspective, when another part of his robust anatomy made itself known. Squeaking, my mouth went dry at the thick, furry erection cocking up, pressing into my stomach.

  “Oh, but we just did, uhm, that. Twice,” I blurted, then began to wiggle for a bit of space. “We should wait a bit, huh? To boink again. You know, let the road rash thrashing my vagina heal itself up a bit first. Heh. Heh.” Not that he had any clue what I was saying or anything.

  Grasping my wrist, a heavy purr rumbling his rib cage, he smoothed my hand over his chest, releasing it and placing his palm between my breasts to do the same to me. Leaning in to nuzzle my neck, his thick tongue peeking out, it rasped across the column of my throat and he mouthed the word into my skin—Mine. Mine. Mine—as if he was chanting it. To me? Himself? For both our benefit? I didn’t know.

  Guessing at what he wanted, I started to hum as loud as I could, grinning like a stunned fool when he let out a shy little beastly whoop at my mock purr. Those arms banding around me grew just shy of crushing me to death.

  “Rosie-linda! Rosie-lindy?”

  “Female!”

  Snarls and shouts, beasts bellowing out across the lush, overgrown, unearthly plants surrounding the marshy, swampy looking spot, fat, electric green and yellow leaves rustled off by a thick clump of sticky bushes.

  “Rosie-lindy!” Zhuii’s voice boomed out above the rest, followed by Rek’s, others calling out the blue-haired snowbeast’s silly version of my name.

  Rosie-lindy/Rosie-linda, indeed, I thought, Tokre’s grip shifting as I gasped out a breath, his furry arm chafing the undoubtedly fire engine red welts and scrapes throbbing across my bum.

  Wincing, I hissed, and wriggled.

  Catching the action, Tokre’s arm shifted more, his head shooting up, the thick fingers of one hand unerringly going for the purple handprints he’d made. As if he’d memorized exactly where they were, he made a pained noise in his throat, smoothing over one spot, then the other, until he’d caressed and cooed over each and every one in way of apology.

  Black eyes solemn, he made a noise in his throat, that haunted look from this morning on his face, leaning in until we were face to face to brush his nose along mine. The claw-tipped fingers at my cheek trailed down my nape, careful of his razor sharp claws on my delicate skin, to slide down the column of my spine. Goose flesh popping up everywhere, I shivered, his touch leaving curious tingles in their wake.

  “What are you doing to me?” I whispered, staring into those smoothed chips of obsidian.

  Nostrils flaring, his head canting ever so slightly in a very animalistic way, the deep rumble bubbling in his throat was anything but angry as he pressed a hand into my back, forcing our chests to brush. That thick slab of solid muscle rippling beneath all that fur, I was slapping against a warm, heavy, living, breathing, growling wall of beast.

  “Oh, I don’t k
now about, uhm, that, erm, right now, big, eep, fella.”

  Thick fingers smoothing over my ass to cup a rounded globe, he gave it a squeeze, much gentler than his rough handling of yesterday. Definitely learning, I noted, but he wasn’t aware of the blows Rek had belted across my ass. Crying out, face twisting in pain, my nails dug in and I tried to wriggle loose.

  Grumbling, disconcerted, Tokre’s hand froze, his body tensing when the thick pads of his fingers caught on the raised flesh. With a shocked grunt, he shifted me higher until my breasts rested on the top of his head, oblivious to my howled shrieks as I flew up, grunting but otherwise ignoring my palms flattening to the top of his skull, my much tinier hands pounding the top of his head.

  “Tokre! What are you- No!”

  Twisting me in his arms, a steely grip on my hip anchoring me in place, the other hand slipping up between my breasts, pressing my side along the front of him, my butt embarrassingly close to his fuzz-lined face, he easily maneuvered me where and how he wished. My side squashed to his chest, my arms curled around an impressive bicep, nails biting at his skin, I could feel his hot breath fanning over my derriere.

  My sex clenched reflexively, along with the rest of me, and I bit my lip, as if that might stifle the sick squelch my cooch may or may not have just let off.

  “Kill me now,” I ground out harshly, spotting a mob of furry heads darting our way from my vantage point, hoisted up on Tokre’s large frame as I was.

  Chest rumbling so hard it made my side tingle, Tokre’s deep, menacing growl was anything but happy as his fingers smoothed over Rek’s handiwork. His breathing grew harsh, his unhappy noises kicking up.

  Clenching up tight, ass cheeks and all, I tried to scoot away from his touch. Lord, don’t accidently claw that ass, boy, I wanted to shout but refrained. Nope, instead one hand was petting the thick muscle my other hand was digging at for dear life, in some strange, absent-minded attempt to calm the creature.

  Alright, so I was spanked, and maybe I’m a weenie, okay, I tried to tell myself, like maybe if I downplayed it we could all just move along, no matter how much that shit freaking hurt.

  It felt like I’d been full on belted across the ass, paddled, not swatted! Snowbeasts didn’t play around with ass whoopin’s, apparently.

  Glancing at my mate, thinking of taking any kind of punishment like that from him, contemplating the bruises he’d unintentionally put on my much smaller frame to begin with, I shuddered at the idea.

  Captain Picard preserve me, this mutiny stuff was starting to look more and more complicated. My freshly spanked ass was in serious need of a detailed, well-thought-out plan, the deeper I found myself easily entrenched in this mess. Not much of a planner, this crap-storm stunk to high heaven.

  Been here how long? And already up to my eyeballs in more than I could handle. It was overwhelming. The fact that I’d held my sanity thus far, to my way of thinking, was a feat in and of itself.

  A warm, furry cheek leaning in to nuzzle my perceived injury had me squawking and squalling, the tongue that slithered out to rasp out and skim across a flaming cheek sending me into orbit.

  “Ack! Hey, there! Whoa! Boundaries! Boundaries! It’s better! It’s better!” I cried out, squealing, the sound petering out as my pink face pinched and a giggle slipped free.

  Another popped free, then another, the longer his tongue rasped, until I was snort-laughing, kicking and flailing, a hot, giggling mess as he made sure to soothe every stinkin’ inch of my bum, tickling the hell out of me in the process.

  By the time he was finished I couldn’t breathe and his chest was rumbling so loud at the sounds I was making, my chest rattling with them as I squealed with laughter, it was making the water ripple around us, tiny waves splashing along the pond’s edge.

  Turning me slowly to let me slide down his chest, Tokre nuzzled along my face, sighing happily, his thick arms wrapping around my waist tight as he hugged me close. Mine, he mouthed, making sure I felt it against my forehead.

  “I know, honey. Heard you the first twenty times or so,” I told him, reaching out to pat his massive chest. “Well, I felt it,” I corrected, pulling back to look him in the eye as I spoke.

  His gaze automatically went to my eyes and then my lips, and something in his face changed, a lightness entering it that gave me pause. Murmuring a mish mash of incoherent gibberish, Tokre mouthed along as I repeated myself, pushing against my lips and waiting once I’d finished, as if I hadn’t said the right thing.

  “Mmmmnnnn,” he told me.

  Knowing exactly what that was, I cocked my head, clucking my tongue, eyes narrowing, and tapped his chest. “Let me guess. Hmm. Is it... mine, perhaps?”

  The second the words left my lips Tokre mashed our chests together, forgetting he had to be careful. Our faces slammed into each other, noses mashing, teeth clashing. Clumsy but eager, he took my lips in a harsh, possessive, untrained kiss.

  Gasping, my lips parted in shock just as he went for it, his tongue forcing its way inside my gaping maw the second it saw the chance. Groaning into my mouth, tilting his head for better access, he cupped my nape, eating at my mouth enthusiastically.

  I felt swallowed up whole, my hands fluttering about his head as I made little startled, “Oop. Eep,” sounds, at a loss.

  “Tokre,” I gasped out, when he finally let me up for air. Lips kiss swollen, lightheaded, chest heaving, I couldn’t remember which way was up or down.

  “Rosie-lindy?” Zhuii breathed out my name, the grassy ground off to the side of us rustling as he shifted from foot to foot, his heavy brow beetling as his gaze ping-ponged between my mate and me.

  My head shot up and I spluttered, spotting our rather large audience, all gathered around to gawk openly.

  Standing off to the side of Zhuii and a tall but slimmer male, was another furry snowbeast, glaring, his lips curled back to expose an impressive set of long, sharp teeth. Naturally, it was none other than Rek.

  Turning to Tokre, I curled my body into his, petting along his fur. “Mine, my mate,” I said aloud, making sure he felt the words against his skin.

  A happy hum rumbling his chest, that wild purr kicking up like a lawnmower, Tokre was pleased as punch.

  “Rek claim!” Rek shouted, curling his hand into a fist and smacking his chest in challenge, puffing up and jerking his chin.

  Tokre, still purring like a maniac, didn’t even flinch. His heartbeat nice and steady, I pulled back, glancing up to find him playing with my hair, oblivious to anyone and anything but me.

  It was a bit flattering, beside the fact he simply didn’t give one single shit about any of those assholes who didn’t care to bother with him in the first place—okay, beyond flattering, and though I’d have preferred it from a human man instead of a beast, it probably never would have happened—but we had a bit of an issue to deal with first. A big old pain in the assed issue named Rek.

  “Rek claim Tokre female!” Rek bellowed in challenge. Stepping closer, eyeing the water critically, he crept towards the edge, a slip of fear slithering over his typically confident features.

  Was he afraid of the water? Could Rek not swim too, I wondered. In fact, I’d swear the other males were giving the pond the stink eye, eyeballing it warily.

  Looking to Tokre appraisingly, I had to wonder who’d taught him to swim.

  “Rek claim! What Tokre say?!”

  When the warrior’s shout once more went unchallenged, I felt the need to speak up. “On behalf of my mate and myself, I’m afraid we will have to respectfully, ah, decline.”

  A murmur rumbled through the gathered crowd, but I held my chin high, sniffing haughtily with all the false bravado I could muster. With Tokre clutching me, it came more easily. He bolstered me.

  Trying not to think about the fact that I was butt naked in a clear pond with a group of hairy beasts crowding around, having a free peek if they so wished, pressed up against Tokre the way I was—who was rumbling his horny rumble, nuzzling the shit out of me whil
e I tried to think here—I took a deep breath. Focus, Rosie. Focus. You can do this.

  “Female no talk for mate! Tokre speak!” Rek demanded.

  “And why the heck not?” I demanded just as hotly, stiffening. Tokre picked up on my body language, pausing to glance up.

  Tokre’s eyes narrowed on the interlopers and his top lip curled up at one corner warningly. I didn’t doubt he’d known they were there the entire time, but had chosen to ignore them, as it appeared they were wont to with him.

  Warrior, male dominated society. Eat or be eaten. I could see how it would have gone down for Tokre, and my guts clenched in sympathy. This was his big fuck you to his fellow beast men.

  With the exception of Zhuii, I had a funny feeling they didn’t bother with Tokre much at all, if actually ever, unless they possibly wanted something from him. Like those nifty baskets of his, perhaps? I’d bet he spent a great deal of time making those, as well.

  Whether I wanted to feel for Tokre or not, thinking of how Rek described him, how indifferent the others were with him by the wall in the forest while we’d awaited our turn—broken—not a warrior—bad mate—a part of me hurt for him.

  “What kind of ass backwards crap is that? Who says he didn’t say I could, hmm?” Yeah, that was me, and my inner bitch was doing the Cha-cha.

  “Tokre not say anything,” Rek grumbled condescendingly, his lip curling up in disgust.

  I felt my own lip curling, aimed at the fool who was too stupid to take a closer look. “So? You’re not my mama, and you certainly aren’t the boss of us, sir. What right have you, hmm?”

  The slimmer beast next to Zhuii stepped forward, blue eyes bright in his long face, his towering height almost comical compared to Zhuii. Stretch Beast Armstrong meet The Beast Wall.

  He was big enough, tall enough, and yet somehow, as I couldn’t help but compare this one to the others, a little less beastly, maybe even a little, dare I say it, human looking. It was strange in the strangest sense of the word.

  “If Tokre contests, Tokre has to speak up,” the blue-eyed beast retorted. “Rek says Rosie-lindy accepted Rek’s claim. Rek challenges Rosie-lindy’s mate. It’s up to Tokre to have a say. Rek and Tokre go from there.”