by Anny Cook
Bishop halted in the middle of undressing, then swiftly finished removing his clothing, tossing each piece on the pile that rested on one corner of the massive altar stone. When he was naked, he reached for Samara.
“Dai explained the ceremony to you?”
Bishop shot a brief glance at Llyon before continuing to undress Samara. “Yeah. He was quite thorough.” He sat down, tugged Samara onto his lap facing him and piled the blankets next to them. Finally when all was ready, he unhooked the slith from the braid that kept his unruly curly hair back from his face and freed the strands from restraint. There was one final step and he completed that by removing the jeweled hair picks from Samara’s hair, allowing the elaborate twisted arrangement to slither down her back in a cool silky curtain.
“Well then, I will leave you to your bonding.” Llyon let them alone in the circle, joining the witnesses waiting by the entrance stone. Outside the circle the snow turned to hard, stinging sleet, beating down on the men with a noisy hiss as they waited.
In the circle, Bishop held Samara close. “My heart, will you bond with me?” he asked once more, softly willing her to agree.
She tilted her head and kissed him with aching tenderness. “Are you sure this is truly what you want? I could not bear it if you left me again, Bish.” She felt his cock pulsing against her soft belly and responded with a rippling contraction of her own. “With all of my heart, I want you to pledge with me and oath bind with me until I die.”
“Then nothing will keep me from doing that.”
“Hmm. So you say,” she teased restlessly. “Dai told me what the archivists found on Talking Wall.” She rocked slowly, impatient to have his cock filling her. “I want it all. Hard and deep and never-ending.”
With that beguiling admission, he pressed her close with hard hands. “Samara, I’m out of time here.”
“Then let us pledge our love now,” she whispered. “Are you ready? Close your eyes,” she reminded, as she led him through the pledging rite. When their pledging was complete, she leaned back just so there was enough room for him to reach between them. He swiftly slashed their palms and then made a tiny nick in the soft skin of his penis and when the blood trickled out, he commanded, “Now, Samara. Come to me now!”
As she slid forward to sheathe him, he caught her hands together in his, pressing their slashed palms together and held them overhead, declaring solemnly, “With the mingling of our blood and sacrifice I take this woman as my bond mate until death.” Lightning flickered in the thick falling snow and thunder rolled overhead.
Dai and Hamilton scurried into the cover of the woods while Llyon and Tyger huddled at the foot of the sentinel stone. The stones turned incandescent, filling the circle with weird bluish flashes. Suddenly hot, bright light flashed from stone to stone before zipping around the altar stone with a resounding crack and sizzle. Thunder shook the ground.
Silence echoed in the still aftermath.
A cry of alarm rang out. The sounds of a desperate scuffle came from the woods behind the bonding circle. Snow muffled the noise but Llyon unerringly narrowed in on the tiny clearing where Panther and Llynx were struggling on the ground with a man Llyon didn’t immediately recognize. A flicknife glittered in the darkness, then Panther brought the hilt down on the man’s head with a hard blow. “You will not kill them!” he declared hotly as the man was still.
Tyger, on Llyon’s heels, took in the scene at a glance. He noted the loaded punchbow half buried in the snow and went at once to move it out of reach.
Breathing hard, Llynx plopped down on the man’s belly. With a low growl he swiped a scraped fist at his nose to wipe away the trickle of blood on his upper lip. “Yeah! We caught ya!”
Well aware of the heightened adrenaline still pumping through the boys’ systems, Llyon squatted down near them and quietly asked, “What happened?”
Arturo and Hamilton slipped into the clearing, filling it with bright light from their light stones. Churned-up snow told a story of violent struggle. With a deep, shuddering breath, Panther tilted his head back until he met Arturo’s eyes with a steadfast gaze. “I followed you when you left to find Samara. And when I heard you talking about the bonding, I came here to watch.”
When Arturo would have spoken, Panther stopped him with a sharp gesture. “No, it was wrong to spy on them. I was wrong to come here. As I was leaving, Llynx found me. We were going to leave when we saw this man hiding in the woods.” He took another deep breath. “There was no time, Arturo. He was going to kill them. So Llynx and I stopped him.” Panther hung his head wearily. “I’m not sorry for that.”
Arturo bit down on his lip, piercing it with his fangs, as he fought the overwhelming urge to snatch Panther up in a tight hug. The ancient gods only knew how close he had come to death! But more than that, Panther had laid aside his fear and fought for Bishop’s and Samara’s lives, knowing that he might not win, hoping that he could delay the assassin long enough for help to arrive. Finally Arturo said, “It was wrong of you to come here. Bonding is a very private ceremony and you intruded on their privacy on purpose. But I think you have redressed this wrong by saving their lives. So we will consider that part of these events closed. Now! Let us see what kind of two-legged grimahr you’ve captured.”
In the circle, Bishop and Samara sat locked together. At the first sound of fighting, he had retrieved his flicknives from his boots where they sprawled beside him and then quickly wrapped the blankets around them in a tight cocoon.
Samara burrowed close against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. Her schela locked tight around his cock, squeezing it nearly to the point of pain. “Fuck! I thought Dancer was exaggerating when he told me about the schela.”
When she giggled, her schela tugged on his cock like a rippling fist. He groaned and thrust deeper, pressing high and hard. “Hard, deep and never-ending,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s exactly the way I love you.”
“Hard, deep and never-ending,” she agreed.
They joined in rapport communing on levels that Bishop had never imagined. The snowstorm morphed into a lazy dance of tiny flakes as the clouds thinned and began to dissipate. Abruptly, moonlight broke through the cloud cover, lighting up the snowy circle. Fairyland, Bishop thought. I’ve landed in the one place where all my dreams will come true.
There were muffled shouts and a buzz of men talking but it was background noise as they floated together on the euphoric cloud of schalzina, bound together body and soul. Samara nuzzled his shoulder, lapping at the place where she sank her teeth on that terrifying afternoon. “You’re a very handsome blue man,” she teased softly. “And you taste good too.”
“I should spank you for doing that. Dai said even if we didn’t bond we would always be tied to each other because of that bite. What if I had continued to be a stubborn fool?”
“Mmmm.” Her tongue flickered out and brushed the pointed tip of his ear. “I would have come after you eventually. I had a plan.”
He shuddered, shocked at the searing flame that shot down his spine to center in his groin. His cock jerked and twitched. “Oh yeah? What plan?”
“I was going to bribe Ban and Arturo to tie you up and deliver you to a bonding circle. Then I was going to ravish you until you agreed to bond with me.” Her tongue lapped at his ear again, tracing the outer edge before circling the delicate inner whorls.
Helplessly, he shivered and came in a rush of heat, his cock held firm in the grasp of her schela. With every pulse the sensitive area behind the crown of his cock was squeezed while the mhital, the entrance of her womb, nibbled eagerly at the jetting tip, driving him insane. “Oh God, you’re a wicked, wicked woman. What the hell was that?” he demanded with a frustrated groan. In spite of coming so hard he saw spots dancing in front of his eyes, his cock was still rigid as a stone.
“That’s the mhital. Do you mind?” she whispered anxiously.
“Hell no. Bring it on. It’ll probably kill me with pleasure but I’ll die ha
ppy.” He tucked her head beneath his chin and gently rocked her. “Are you warm enough?”
“Mm-hmm. You’re hot enough to keep me warm even without the blankets. I wonder when we will go home.”
“We will go home when your schalzina is over,” Bish said softly, without opening his eyes. “There is no reason to take a bonding cottage when we have a private place to go already. It will be easier for Llyon to check on us too. Are you hungry? We missed the Midwinter feast.”
“I’d rather have you than a feast. Besides, if I know my mother, there will be a feast waiting at our dome by the time we get home.” She yawned sleepily and closed her eyes. “I love you.”
“I don’t think love is a big enough word for what I feel. My chest aches with what I feel for you. When I met you on the way home from Susie’s cottage, I thought I had lost everything. I didn’t care whether I died or not.”
“What changed?”
“You—screaming in my brain to wake up and give you permission to bite me.”
“Oh.” Her hand stole to one of his nipples and she pinched it with a little twist. “You terrified me. When I saw you on the ground, I thought you were dead.”
“Nah. Not yet. Not for years and years.”
Llyon trotted into the circle and grinned at the blanket-bundled couple. “You look happy,” he observed with a smile.
Bish raised his head and smiled in return. “We are. What was all that racket?”
Ly leaned back against the stone sentinel and crossed his arms over his chest. “Panther and Llynx caught Jiph. He had a fully loaded punchbow aimed at your back at the time.”
“Are they okay?”
Llyon nodded, pleased that Bishop’s first thought was for the boys’ welfare. “They are fine. Jiph has been apprehended and the others have gone home. I will stay with you until you are ready to go back to your dome.”
“You’ll freeze to death,” Bishop objected.
“No, I will be well. Ty is fetching some hot rocks and a small brazier. We will wait by the pool. It will be restful to wait in such peaceful surroundings.” With a small wave, he slipped back through the entrance and went to wait for Tyger by the pool.
“Is it really over?” Samara muttered against Bish’s chest.
“I think it is. We must make sure that we thank Panther and Llynx.”
“What were they doing out here in the storm?”
“Spying on us, no doubt,” Bish answered wryly.
Her body jerked. “No! Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s what I would do if I was them.
“And what would they see if they spied on us now?” she teased.
“They’d see this,” he whispered as he tugged the bonding blanket up over their heads.
“What are you doing?”
“Pull your knees up, darling. I’m going to lie down so we can stretch out our legs.”
When they were lying flat on the stone, he rolled until he was on top. “Now since I’m a traditional kind of guy, I figure we’ll make love in the traditional way for our bonding.”
“What’s the traditional way?”
“With me on top. Wrap your legs and arms around me and hold on tight.” He rested his weight on his elbows, cradling her shoulders and head on his forearms and began to rock his hips, pressing as deep as he could reach. “Do you feel me filling your pussy? That’s the way it’s going to be for the rest of our lives.”
She arched up to meet him, her schela grasping his cock with ardent enthusiasm. “Do you feel my schela holding you tightly?” she countered.
“Hell yes.” He recalled how sensitive his ears were when Samara licked them so he nibbled lightly on the tips of hers. Gasping, she tightened her legs around his hips, straining to take his cock in deeper.
Suddenly he rolled so that she was on top. “There, honey. If you sit up, my cock will go in deeper.” He tugged the blankets up so the cold air wouldn’t rush in to chill them. “Feel it?” Cupping her breasts in his hands, he teased the nipples, rubbing the tips with his rough thumbs.
She pressed down, frantically repeatedly grinding her clit against his hard pubic bone. As she poised on the edge of climax, everything in her coiled tight, he pinched her nipples and bucked his hips. Like a whip, the tension exploded as she climaxed in an unending wave of pulsing contractions.
Joyfully, Bishop joined her, jetting scalding semen as her mhital nibbled hungrily at his cock, calling forth a new offering with every pulse. At last, though her schela still firmly held him in place, their tired bodies began to relax. She cuddled on his broad chest with her head tucked beneath his chin. He tucked the blankets around them snugly as he held her in his arms. “Relax now and go to sleep. We’ve had a long day.”
“I hope someone took the cake out of my oven,” she said sleepily. “Otherwise it’ll be burned to a crisp.”
And then all was quiet in the starry Midwinter night.
Epilogue
The clear sky above the Midsummer Gathering was so blue it made the eyes water. The milling crowds settled into place in a large hollow square on the practice field for the traditional call for warriors. The call was open to warriors who had finished their training the previous year or the very few who had qualified by saving another person’s life. Those in the second group trained with a volunteer mentor who made sure that they acquired the necessary skills. Alf Campbell, the head of the valley council, called for quiet.
Beside him, Arturo and Andrew McCrory, both morkerts, waited in grave silence. In the past year, many changes had come to the valley. And with those changes an unprecedented number of warriors had completed their training and taken their warriors’ vows. In the solemn hush that fell over the field, Alf spoke. “Today, we honor those who have joined the warrior ranks in the past year. Let all who have sworn this year to uphold the safety of our inhabitants step forward so that we may recognize your bravery!”
In other years four or five warriors might have proudly walked onto the field for recognition. This year was different. Twenty-seven men made their way to the center of the field where they lined up on either side of the stern leader and morkerts. Merlyn and Dai, each of them clutching a drooling baby in their arms, stood with Jade, waiting with joyful hearts as Dancer, Traveller, Ban and Bishop joined the younger men on the field. All around them stood the women of the Llewellyn family, holding the next generation of Llewellyns in baby slings on their backs.
When all was silent again, Alf called out, “Behold, our warriors! They have given their hearts in the service of our people! Who will lead them in their call to commitment?”
“I will!” a loud cry came from the back of the crowd. With a growing murmur, the crowd moved aside, clearing the way for the young man to stalk onto the field with his companions. Abruptly, in a silence so profound that even the babies were quiet, Hawke knelt on one knee and bowed his head. “As valley champion, I claim the honor. Will any deny me?”
Alf bit his lip to hold back the laugh that threatened to ruin the young champion’s dramatic entrance. Trust Hawke to arrive with not one but three of the legendary drangs in attendance, thus flaunting his future as high clan chief for all to see. Alf’s amused eyes met the wise old eyes of the lead drang as he declared, “None will deny you, Hawke. Come. Give our warriors their challenge.”
Hawke stood facing the warriors. “There is one missing, Councilor. Will you permit my companions to bring him here?”
Alf nodded. “Of course! Fetch him at once!”
The two drangs flanking Hawke turned at once and went to the small knot of family members standing with Dai, Merlyn and Jade. An indrawn hush fell on the field as the glittering green and gold drang offered his hand to Panther. “I am Plato, young warrior. Come with me.”
Trembling so violently that his knees threatened to give way, Panther placed his hand in the offered palm and followed as Plato led him onto the field. When they reached the center, Hawke gave him a cheerful smile and then offered his own hand.
Turning to face the crowd, he shouted, “I present to you, the people, my brother Panther! The warriors who stand before you waiting to recite their call to commitment are fine men who have trained hard for the honor. They are willing to protect us all with their lives if necessary.” He paused for a moment as though considering what he would say next. “It is easy to fight when you have a reasonable expectation of winning. But it takes immense courage to fight when you firmly believe that you will be defeated. When you know without question that defeat will lead to death that requires unimaginable courage and commitment.”
Hawke pressed down on Panther’s shoulder until his young brother dropped to his knees. “In the snow at Midwinter, Panther fought for the lives of not just one or two of our people. No, if the assassin had won, no doubt he would have killed more. Bishop and Samara. Llynx, Tyger, Llyon, Arturo, Hamilton…and of course, Panther would have died. Panther fought—not with the belief that he would win. He fought to delay the attacker in his purpose until help could arrive, thus demonstrating initiative and teamwork. Because of his selfless fight, no lives were lost. I present Panther as a young man with the true spirit of a warrior.”
Alf cleared his throat. In a voice scratchy with suppressed tears he asked, “Who will serve as mentor for this warrior?”
Plato inched forward. “I claim this warrior.”
Dead silence fell on the field. Plato held out his hand. “Will you accept my claim?”
Unhesitating, Panther gave the drang his hand. In two lightning-fast movements, Plato slashed Panther’s palm and his own and pressed them tightly together. Light flared around them in a blinding circle. When Plato released his young warrior’s hand, Panther studied the small golden dragon seared into the skin of his palm. In puzzled wonder he stared up at the drang he was now bonded with. “What does it mean?” he whispered.
A rumbling laugh escaped Plato’s huge snout as he smiled a toothy grin. A wispy drift of smoke curled in the air above Panther’s head. “I will explain everything to you later.”