He spotted the wagon approaching. Nostrils flaring, he caught the scent of the figure upon it. Clarysa! She was tied to a pole, looking battered and dazed. What had Sada done to her? Clarysa would freeze to death if he didn’t reach her in time.
Roaring, he jumped onto the wagon. It creaked in protest under his tremendous weight. Stellan gazed at the pale, fragile woman he loved. Bruises plastered the exposed skin of her arms and neck. Grit smudged her nightdress. Distraught, he tried to call her name, but only the harsh sound of snapping jaws came. With his heightened senses, he could smell the fear in her. Clarysa stood frozen, staring up at him in abject terror.
Don’t be afraid! It’s me! He reared up on his hind legs, batting away at the spears and fists of the creatures surrounding the wagon. Stellan became aware of shouts ringing through the air. A commanding voice spoke.
“Aim for the beast. Loose arrows!”
The hiss of angry spikes tore through the air. Stellan ignored the incoming volley. One thought dominated all others–save Clarysa.
He shielded her with his body and then shredded the ropes trapping her. Several arrows pierced his back, halting his progress. Stellan roared out his pain. His blood poured in torrents down his back, filling the air with a coppery odor.
Lionel ran toward him, leading a contingent of soldiers all bent on rescuing Clarysa. Already they had notched a fresh set of arrows and were taking aim.
Again he tried to speak, but could utter nothing. Out of options, he swept Clarysa up onto his shoulder and leaped off the wagon. Lionel’s name burst from her mouth in a desperate shriek.
A flare of jealousy made him growl. Lionel wasn’t her true savior–Stellan was. Clarysa wouldn’t have feared him if it weren’t for Sada’s interference. He curled his free hand–now a formidable claw–into a massive fist. The beast side of him craved a bloody fight with his oppressors while the human side urged caution.
One of the henchmen blocked his way and thrust a spear toward him. Stellan grabbed the weapon, spun it, and jammed the sharp end into the man’s neck. The attacker slumped to the blood-spattered ground.
Stellan bared his fangs in heady vindication. With his enhanced form he could take them–he could defeat all of them!
Clarysa screamed again. Logic broke through his beast-hazed brain. Soldiers advancing… Want to kill me… Must protect her!
He barreled across the snow with incredible speed. Despite his wounds, Clarysa felt no heavier than a leaf resting on his shoulder. The sounds of the King’s men giving chase faded into the background as he carried Clarysa toward the dark depths of Dungeon Forest.
Chapter 30
Clarysa hung over the beast’s massive shoulder, one covered by bloody, coarse fur. What manner of creature was this thing? It seemed neither wolf nor human, but rather a hideous blend of both. She bobbed up and down like a village girl’s rag doll as the beast raced through the dense blanket of foliage. Each step thrust the creature’s collarbone painfully into her stomach.
Clarysa pounded the beast with all her might. After her arms tired, she kicked it as hard as she could. But her efforts were useless. Striking the brute had about as much effect as punching a stone floor covered with a thin rug.
The creature sped on. Where was he taking her? As the gray light about them faded, fears about Stellan’s fate flashed through her mind. What if this monster had devoured him and his broken body now lay deep within its bowels? What if it had torn her beloved limb from limb, splattering blood and bone across the castle floor? What if Stellan lay slowly dying from a thousand vicious bites? What if, what if…?
For perhaps the hundredth time, Clarysa cried hoarsely for the beast to release her. Each time, menacing snarls were her only answer. They traveled for what seemed like hours, far into the late afternoon.
Whenever she regained an ounce of strength, she resumed her resistance.
“Let me go, you horrid brute!” She twisted and pinched at its fur–all to no avail. Rough hide and hands numbed with cold conspired against her. As if it could understand spoken language, she continued her verbal assault. “You’re disgusting and I hate you!”
Clarysa tried to batter its chest with her knees, but it held her tightly. Her ire grew hot again. Blasphemous words spouted from her mouth. She would fight the monster until the end, if necessary.
While hurling more insults, she discovered a small amount of slack. A brash plan seized her tired mind. She kicked the beast hard and slid forward, down its back. Then she snatched one of the arrow shafts and ground it deeper into the creature’s flesh. Thick rivers of blood oozed forth.
The wolf-thing slammed Clarysa to the ground and pinned her tight. Her breath whooshed out as the impact jarred her from head to toe.
Mistake! She threw up her hands in a measly defense as the beast unleashed its howling fury mere inches from her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting at any moment for its glistening fangs to rip into her tender flesh.
But nothing happened.
Ever so slowly, ever so carefully, Clarysa opened her eyes.
The beast stared back, snarling and frothing at the mouth. Its breathing was labored, its eyes bloodshot. Saliva dripped from its tongue in copious amounts. But it did not attack!
What did the beast want from her? Fear and confusion manifested in hot, frequent tears. The sound of her ragged breaths mixed with those of the beast’s. “Have mercy. Kill me now or let me go!”
Clarysa’s pleas faded as she sagged in defeat. The beast then hoisted her onto its back once again and sprinted ahead.
Many more hours seemed to pass. Clarysa no longer struggled. The last of her strength had ebbed away.
Finally, they stopped in a copse of trees. A thin layer of snow covered the ground. All around them flakes trickled down from the sky, throwing a blanket of silence over the landscape. Clarysa knew their pursuers would be hard pressed to find them. Was she now the beast’s prisoner forever? She listened to its heavy panting. Several arrows still extended from its back. Was it resting? It seemed to be. Clouds of warm, moist breath gushed from its mouth.
The beast eased her down. Clarysa’s heart pumped madly. Now was her chance. She had saved her strength for this moment. The instant her feet touched the ground she turned and ran. Her legs felt like fire, solid as porridge, but she hurtled away nonetheless.
But she was no match for the beast. Thick, powerful claws grasped her gown, tearing the material as it drew her back. It whipped her around and with one arm at her waist easily pinned her against a nearby tree. All the air left her lungs. The rough bark chafed her bare skin. She pushed and slapped at the claw pinching her stomach. When she hurled insults at the beast, it snarled. When she yelled her protests, it howled.
After several minutes of this, Clarysa tired and grew still. This…is getting me nowhere. Perhaps a more civilized approach would yield better results. She eyed the monster with the steeliest gaze she could muster. “What exactly do you want from me?”
They stared at one another in silence. Then the beast’s gaze dropped, first to her neck and then lower. A husky, bestial moan issued from its throat. Clarysa glanced down and blanched at the generous way her breasts spilt from the loose confines of her gown. Her stomach curdled. “Not that!” she cried. “Let me go, I beg you!”
The beast grew calmer, quietly observing her. I think it understands me! If the beast meant to ravish her, it would have done so by now.
Huge, vivid green eyes met hers. Curiosity overcame her. “What…who are you? What have you done with Stellan?” Angry desperation infused her voice. “If you harmed him, so help me I will kill you.”
It pulled her close again, tucking her tightly beneath a solid, muscular arm. Bending down, with her body squashed against his side, it reached out a claw and began to form something in the snow.
And after it finished, Clarysa gasped. For there, nestled among the crisp and crunchy flakes, it had etched a name, and the name was Stellan, with a crooked arrow pointed toward the beast.
He crouched low to the ground and avoided her gaze. A hush fell over everything. All about them, the falling snow intensified its rate. A lone bird in the distance broke the silence, calling out to its own kind.
Gingerly, Clarysa reached out and fingered a tuft of fur on the beast’s–on Stellan’s arm. It gleamed a dark metallic blue. “Who was the woman I saw at the castle?”
A guttural bark met her ears.
Oh, no, he can’t even speak! Clarysa crawled forward and motioned for him to look at her. She rubbed a day-old laceration on her right forearm. “Stellan, she did something to me. I thought it was a dream, but then I woke up, and…and I was on the cart.” Her eyes burned. “And she did something to you, didn’t she? Was she…someone you loved?” She held her breath, awaiting the answer.
Stellan shook his head violently and scratched out another word in the snow. He pointed for emphasis.
Clarysa stared. The word, rudimentarily drawn out, read Sister.
Her jaw dropped open. “I didn’t know you had a…but that’s right, you never told me much about your family.” Clarysa wiped away a fresh set of tears. “They obviously don’t want us to be married. Oh, my love, how awful that she did this to you…to us!”
She reached out her hands. At first, he turned away. But she persisted, gently stroking his face and snout. He felt strange beneath her touch, but only his shape had changed, not his personality.
Leaning forward, she pressed her cheek to his and slipped her arms around his neck. “At least we’re together now.”
Something warm and wet touched her cheek. It seemed he was trying to kiss her, but his form made the effort clumsy and awkward and he ended up just licking her face. With the tip of his tongue, he brushed away each of her tears as they fell.
Something cold and wet coated her hands as she held him. Clarysa drew up her outstretched arms before her–blood. She turned to him in alarm. “Darling, we have to get these arrows out.”
Stellan growled his assent. Clarysa took a deep breath and steeled herself as she studied the deep wounds before her. “Brace yourself!” She plucked out the first one, yielding an intense wail of pain from both nurse and patient. He had gripped one of her thighs in the process, and as she yanked the arrow out, he had squeezed her hard. Clarysa collapsed on her side, nursing a rapidly bruising leg. When the pain reached a tolerable level, she searched around for a thick tree branch for him to bite. “Here,” she said, “I think both of us are going to need it if we’re to get through this.”
The other arrows were buried more deeply and took more time to free. After she finished the gruesome task, she ripped off a piece of her gown and created a makeshift bandage. Unfortunately, the blood quickly soaked through the flimsy material. Both woman and beast fell back in exhaustion against the snowy ground.
All around them, the snow continued to silently fall.
They rested for a while, Clarysa pressed against him for warmth. Then Stellan rose on his hind legs, signaling that they needed to keep moving. Extending a massive paw riled with sharp claws, he helped her stand.
“I hope it’s not far, wherever we’re going.” Clarysa stumbled forth. Her feet kept slipping out of the ill-fitting shoes someone had put on her. She hugged her body tightly in a feeble attempt to retain warmth. Her body temperature seemed to be lowering with each step she took.
Flashes of light-headedness threatened to strike her down. But she persevered. Love alone drove her on, and she trudged behind her prince. I can hardly complain. At least I’m not injured. Or a beast. She looked at Stellan’s bloody back. Her heart ached for him.
They trudged on.
After another hour of walking, Clarysa stopped and hunched near the base of a tree. “I…I’m sorry. I need to rest,” she said weakly. She stuffed some snow into her parched mouth.
Stellan swiveled his head around, sniffing the air. Apparently not satisfied, he bent down and scooped Clarysa into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and slipped her arms around his shoulders. She tucked her face into the warm crook of his thick neck. They continued onward for many more miles.
As night drained the last remaining vestiges of light from the surrounding countryside, they reached the entrance to a cave. Panting, Stellan carefully lowered her to the packed-dirt floor.
In the darkness, Clarysa lost all sense of direction. She stumbled about until Stellan took her hand into his, leading the way. She heard the clink of a metal latch and felt an out rush of stale air. Stellan led her through an even darker passageway.
This was no ordinary cave. It had all the earmarks of a secret hideout.
Stellan dropped her hand. Clarysa sat down, hugged her knees to her chest, and shivered. Rustling sounds met her ears. He was rummaging about in the dark. If her teeth weren’t chattering so hard, she would have inquired about his purpose.
Soft amber illumination filled the room as Stellan ignited a large fire in the hearth. Clarysa rushed to its warmth and nearly singed her hair as she huddled next to it. Pain seared her hands and feet, but the sensation comforted her. It was a sure sign they were thawing and not a victim of frostbite. Though she had thought all her tears spent, she cried with relief.
As Clarysa warmed by the fire, Stellan lumbered into the room with a snow-packed bucket. He emptied it into the cauldron hanging over the fire. After repeating the act four more times, the cauldron was soon full of hot water.
He then brought forth strips of cloth and several dark-colored bottles. Some were filled with oddly colored liquid and others with a thick, sweet-smelling salve. Clarysa guessed them to be magickal potions and ointments. Stellan fumbled around with several of the jars, but his oversize hands were far too clumsy for the delicate containers. He grunted in frustration.
Clarysa placed her hands over his paws. “Let me help you.” Using gestures, he showed her how to clean and dress his wounds.
Next, he revealed a store of tea and dried meats. All of it seemed stale, but it was certainly better than a diet of melted snow and tree bark. Clarysa soaked part of the meat in her tea to soften it. Stellan, on the other hand, found its condition to be entirely suitable, for he gulped down a portion big enough for at least five men. He lapped tea noisily from a large bowl.
Her appetite sated, Clarysa grew drowsy by the warmth of the fire. It had been a long, arduous day. She found some musty-smelling blankets and created a makeshift bed by the hearth. After Stellan finished eating, she motioned for him to join her. He padded toward her on all fours, nostrils flaring. She drew back the coarse blanket, her expression tender.
Stellan lay and curled up his great form. Clarysa crawled into the warm space between him and the fire. As she molded her body to his, a massive swath of coarse fur tickle her back. Beneath his coat lay a solid wall of corrugated muscle. No wonder he carried me so easily. Such brute strength!
With each rise and fall of his chest, a surge of warm, feral breath coated her neck and shoulders. Clarysa reveled in the comfort of the sweltering hollow, shifting her hips back to close the remaining space between them. Very little clothing separated fur from skin, she belatedly realized. Before going to bed, intense summer heat had prompted her to discard all her undergarments. At the thought, her cheeks warmed while a distinct coil of arousal tightened deeply within her.
Had Stellan noticed her near nakedness?
She shifted closer. Now her back was flush against his chest and abdomen. Regardless of her determination to be brave, tears threatened. Would this be their fate, woman and savage beast? Did any part of Stellan the man exist in this form? Clarysa worried that the cure for his transformation was far from reach. Ultimately, she decided it didn’t matter. Her love for him knew no limits. She absentmindedly rubbed her cold feet against his legs for wa
rmth.
Would there be a wedding anymore? How would they even communicate? Her heart would break if she never heard his voice again. She stroked his fur and drummed it with little pats spurred by anxious need. She wanted so much to be a part of Stellan, to join with him in everything. No matter what happened, she would be with him–even if he remained a beast forever.
Soon, she writhed against him, seeking reassurance that despite his strange body, he still cared. With a whimper, she tried to draw his massive form as close as possible. Stretching, she searched for his face behind her. She held her hand there, against his muzzle.
Then she sensed movement.
Clarysa thought nothing of her bare legs that now intertwined with Stellan’s broad hind ones, but apparently he did, for one of them suddenly jutted between her thighs, splitting them wide apart. Or was it something else? The shadows thrown by the fire threw her senses into chaos.
Flexing her thighs, she pressed against him harder. Need drove her–this was still Stellan, her love, and she wanted to comfort him. A slow, rhythmic dance evolved as she rocked gently against him. Warmth spread within her, and then a telltale dampness.
The beast’s rough fur slid against the bare skin of her legs. The thrilling contact made her feel reckless and she squirmed even more. Behind her, the beast inhaled and then exhaled, harmonious with her own deep breaths. In time, a singular hardness protruded into her back. She froze. Was it a claw? A muscle? Or something emanating from regions dark and forbidden?
Clarysa closed her eyes and swallowed. A faint whisper of apprehension made her shiver. Would she? Could she?
Fixated on the hard, muscular weight between her thighs, she was only dimly aware of a massive, clawed extremity that stretched, swelled, and fanned apart above her. Then in a wicked rush it clinched her waist, encasing her in a firm grip. It was not so tight she couldn’t breathe but she couldn’t easily escape, either. The razor-sharp claws brushed the underside of her breasts, but did little more than graze her skin through the fabric.
Lord of Snow and Ice Page 21