Hunt- Red Riding Hood Retold

by Demelza Carlton

  Rosa drank deeply, her hands no longer shaking. Oh, there was a little shiver of pleasure at his words, but not enough to shake the warm glow that suffused her whole body. She drank until only a few drops remained at the bottom of her cup, which she dribbled across the top of her breasts, meeting his gaze squarely with a challenge of her own.

  Chase laughed. "If you hadn't done it, I was going to pour my cup over you. By all that's holy, I could spend all night just worshipping those breasts." He drained his cup and set it on the table. Then he pushed her down on the bed, touching his tongue to her nipple once more. "So sweet." A finger slid inside her, stroking, as his other hand closed on her breast. "And I want you wet for later, too, when we see if I can earn a better adjective than amazing."

  "Yes. Oh, yes." Rosa wanted to say something more articulate, but with his hands, his lips and his tongue on her, she soon struggled to say anything coherent at all.

  Thirty-Eight

  The sound of Hagen growling woke Rosa. Hagen never growled, unless there was another cat outside. Probably sniffing at the door, wanting to come in out of the cold. She didn't blame it. Even with Chase spooned up close behind her, she could feel the chill air. Almost as though the fire had gone out, or she'd left a window open. But the shutters had been closed for weeks, and she wouldn't have left…

  The door was opening. Swinging out wider, until she could see the moonlit clearing outside.

  Hagen had puffed up, until he looked more like a thundercloud than a cat, complete with ominous rumbling. Yet even he backed away from the door, retreating into the shadows beside the fire.

  Rosa crept out of bed, reaching for the nearest weapon – the poker. She held it before her like a sword and demanded, "Who's there?"

  Something huge and pale leaped at her, knocking her down. The poker flew from her hand, clanging down somewhere out of reach.

  She saw firelight glint off big eyes and…even bigger teeth…

  The beast had knocked the breath out of her, and with its weight crushing her, she couldn't even draw in the air to scream.

  Air…

  Cold air came screaming through the open door, pelting the beast with leaves as it tried to lift the creature off her.

  But the beast seemed to be pushing down just as hard, its weight more than she could bear as those teeth came closer, and closer…

  And then the weight was gone, as the beast rolled off her.

  Rosa jumped to her feet, backing away as she felt around behind her for anything else she could use for a weapon. Even the poker, which was surely…

  But the beast didn't move. It just lay on its back, on top of the poker. No, not on top of.

  "I wouldn't have thought a poker would go straight through him like that, like a greased spit," Chase said. He nudged the beast with his foot.

  A paw curled, like a fist clenching in agony.

  "Pull it out," Rosa said. "It will die a faster, more merciful death that way."

  Chase shrugged. "If you wish." He reached for the handle.

  "Don't," the creature said hoarsely.

  Except…the white fur on its belly seemed to be thinning, exposing more skin. And the paw had lengthened, almost like fingers…

  "Gods, it's a man!" she said, staring.

  Only the head hadn't changed, and then she realised the massive man wore a white wolfskin cloak, with the stuffed head adorning the hood so that it looked like his face. Yet he shoved it aside and she found herself facing a wrinkled, white-haired man.

  "You're not Mistress Kun," the old man said. "I thought I smelled her magic, but you're not her."

  "I am Mistress Rosa, and I have some healing skill," Rosa began. "If you let my friend remove the poker, I might be able to save you."

  "For what? A lifetime as a wolf, seeking the bitch who turned me into a beast? Better to let me die, girl. She killed the rest of my sons, as if that might bring back the one she whelped who died in his sleep." The man coughed. "She found me offering up the body to the gods' care, ready to light the pyre. Screamed that I'd killed him, and she'd kill all my sons and tear down all I'd built. After she'd made me watch all of it, she cursed me. Said if I could find her in the doorway to death, maybe I could be a man again. Ever since, I've been searching. Neither a wolf nor a man, and all I know is the stink of magic. But whenever I followed it…the witch would rather die instead of turning me back. And only now, I realise I must have heard her wrong. It wasn't her I had to kill to turn back into a man. It was me."

  He squinted at her. "You look like my daughter, Skathi. She's the High Priestess to the winter goddess – even Kun wouldn't risk the wrath of the goddess by hurting her. Find her. Tell her to make sure to give me a king's funeral. Burned before the altar."

  Rosa bowed her head. "It will be done."

  "And give my cloak to your man there. He looks mighty cold."

  Rosa glanced at Chase. He was as naked as she was, and he did indeed look cold. Perhaps if he closed the door…

  The wolf had opened the door to the cottage. She'd always wondered how he'd gotten into her family's house, for the door had been closed when she found them. She opened her mouth to ask.

  The wolf king gave a little sigh and said no more. Rosa checked his pulse.

  "He's dead."

  She didn't know whether to be relieved or said. For years, she'd yearned for this, and now…

  So this was vengeance. She'd thought it would be sweet, but it was as bitter and bleak as the heart of winter.

  "What do we do now?" Chase asked.

  Rosa swallowed. "We burn the body, like I promised. I guess I'm the priestess now, so it falls to me."

  "To us," Chase corrected. "We're in this together. Until the very end."

  Thirty-Nine

  Rosa seemed dazed, so Chase left her to pull on some clothes while he, already dressed, headed outside to find a handcart to carry the body to this altar she'd spoken of.

  He should have felt as confused as Rosa, killing a wolf who'd turned into a man only to die again after telling the strangest tale he'd ever heard.

  And yet…his mind was clearer than it had ever been. Seeing that beast slavering over Rosa, he'd known exactly what to do.

  Even now, he could see his way forward, knowing exactly what he wanted to do next.

  He filled up the handcart with enough wood to make a pagan funeral pyre, then went inside for some other supplies. Rosa had pulled on a shift, but she seemed to be struggling with the laces.

  Chase headed over to help. After making love to her tonight, he wanted to unlace her more than cover her up, but that could wait. She'd need to be dressed warmly, and if he had to dress her, he would. He found a clean overdress and helped her into it. Stockings, boots, cloak…

  He left her sitting on the bed as he stripped the corpse of its cloak and carried it to the cart. The man, despite his age, had been powerfully built. No wonder he'd made such a huge wolf. As for his parting gift of the wolf head cloak…Chase could decide whether to accept it or not later, when the body was dealt with. Or leave it up to Rosa.

  "Ready to go find this altar, High Priestess Rosa?" he asked.

  She blinked and finally seemed to focus. "Just a priestess. Not so high," she said. She sighed. "I had everything so clearly planned out, and now…I'm lost. What do you do when you finally finish your quest?"

  "Find a new one," he replied. "Or rest and recuperate for a bit, then think up something else to do."

  She nodded. "Yes. I should…rest. Would you rest the winter with me?" Before Chase could answer, she continued, "Oh, but you probably have a new quest. Never mind. I would have liked…but it doesn't matter." Her shoulders slumped.

  He would bring a smile back to her face. By dawn, if not before, Chase swore.

  Ha. Yes, he did have a new quest.

  Gods grant he would be successful in this one, too.

  Forty

  Together, they threw the corpse onto the pyre they'd built on the ground at the foot of the stone alta
r. They piled more wood on top of it until it resembled a bonfire more than a funeral pyre. Then they stepped forward together and thrust their torches into it, setting it alight.

  Rosa bit her lip, bringing a breeze into the grove to fan the flames. The quicker the corpse became ashes, the better, for the night was cold and dark, and it would be many hours before the sun would warm the land again.

  She moved closer to Chase, craving his warmth more than that of the fire.

  "Shall we go back to bed?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her.

  She longed to say yes, but she could not. "We must keep vigil until all traces of the body are gone. You go home if you wish, and back to bed. I will join you once the fire burns to ashes." But not before dawn, for it took a long time to burn a body so big.

  "Isn't this what you told me about, though? In the ancient rites, where witches dance naked in the grove about a holy fire?"

  He'd remembered. "In the ancient rites, the priestesses drank a lot of mead before they danced naked. And at Midwinter, they didn't dance alone. They had partners…to…warm them…" Her face warmed with an unusually hot blush.

  "While the fire burns, I will warm you," Chase said, reaching into the handcart. He pulled out a pair of blankets and a jug of mead. He handed her the jug, then spread the blankets on the ground. The flames reflected in his eyes made it seem almost as though the fire burned within him. He lay her down on the blankets, then knelt before her, lifting her legs up onto his shoulders so that her skirt fell back, baring her to him. She could feel the heat of him, ready to enter her, yet he did not. "But only if you want me. Do you?" he asked, his tone so gentle it could melt the iciest heart.

  As she looked up into his eyes, she knew her heart had more than melted.

  In the sacred grove, before the watching eyes of the forest gods, she could only speak the truth. Truth that had dawned on her tonight, as she lay naked in his arms. "Yes. More than any man I have ever known, I love you, and I will love you until I draw my last breath." Tears sprang to her eyes. "Even when spring comes and you run off to find your princess once more, I will love you still." Such was the life of a priestess. Always a lover, never a wife.

  "You wish for me to stay here, with you?"

  Rosa closed her eyes, wishing she could stop the tears from falling. "Yes. With all my heart."

  "But your heart and soul belong here, to the forest."

  She wept. "Yes. As priestess to the gods of the forest, my body and soul belong here, to them. I can never leave. But my heart belongs to you. Only you."

  "Good. Because I think you stole my heart the moment you first looked at me, and I will never love any other woman the way I love you."

  At his words, her eyes flew open, staring at him, but he thrust deep inside her, and she could do little more than moan at the pleasure of it. This was nothing like the first time, or the second. Every thrust was slow and deep, like the beat of a giant heart at the centre of her world. Somehow, he'd unlaced her dress, letting her breasts spill out, and his hands were warm as he caressed her, never once changing his pace.

  The world spun and stood still, air freezing her flesh even as his skin heated it to burning, while the fire within her built and built, a blaze she could not contain.

  And when she screamed out, "YES!" as the pleasure of their union overwhelmed her, it seemed the whole forest shouted with her.

  Forty-One

  A thousand voices whispered, debating whether they should wake him up, remind him of his duties, or let him sleep a little longer.

  Chase's heart sank. He'd fallen asleep in the Great Hall again, his head pillowed on something so soft it might be a maiden's breast. He didn't want to wake to find out what it really was, for he wanted to dream a little longer, about the magical maiden who summoned such a fire inside him, he could not resist her. Especially when her ice-blue eyes had glowed with some enchantment, enticing him to take what was so freely given…

  He had to wake now, for his cock was far too alert for such a public place.

  Chase dared to open his eyes. A pink nipple sat before him, like a berry atop sweet, creamy flesh, begging to be tasted.

  "Serve your priestess, knight."

  "Yesss, the High Priestess."

  "You swore to serve."

  Hissing whispers came from all around, but he saw no one. Trees stood sentinel on either side, their branches meeting above, like he lay in a massive cathedral.

  With a lovely young woman. Rosa, the priestess of the forest.

  He tried to lift his hand to stroke her hair off her face, but he could not. One arm was tucked beneath her, holding her tight to him, while his other hand was trapped between her thighs, with only his thumb free. He moved his thumb experimentally, eliciting a gasp from Rosa.

  He pressed with the pad of his thumb, and it slipped inside her, her irresistible heat contracting around him just as she had last night.

  His cock was now rock hard, as though he hadn't touched a woman in years, when he knew he'd made love to this one scant hours before.

  "Yes," Rosa whispered, and a thousand voices agreed with her.

  She shifted, rolling him onto his back so that she could sit astride him, her heat engulfing him completely. Her breasts, bouncing free of her unlaced bodice, taunted him.

  He sat up, needing to kiss her, to taste those creamy breasts, to match the timing of her rocking hips with thrusts of his own.

  "Yesss…"

  "YES!"

  "Yessss…"

  "Oh, yes."

  A thousand voices echoed his thoughts, until he and Rosa cried out in shared pleasure for a moment that seemed to last for ever…but not long enough.

  When he could see clearly enough to look around, they were alone in the cathedral clearing, beside the ashes of last night's pyre, wrapped in her red cloak, on the forest floor.

  "Hail the new High Priestess, for she has conquered the fire god himself in the sacred grove," a smug whisper hissed.

  "Who said that?" Chase demanded, looking around.

  Rosa blinked. "You heard that, too?"

  "Of course. Now, show yourself!" Chase commanded.

  "The knight cannot see."

  "He sees only the High Priestess."

  "So nubile is she."

  Hissing laughter drowned out the rest of the words echoing around them.

  Rosa ducked her head, no longer meeting his eyes as she laced up her bodice. "I should return to the house and wash." She levered herself up off Chase's lap, and cold air rushed to cool what ardour he had left. "You should…go to the Baron to collect your reward."

  Chase cleaned up as best he could, and rose. "Not without you."

  She shook her head. "I have no need of coin, and I don't think Alard wants to see me. But you will surely need it, wherever you are going."

  Chase folded his arms across his chest. "I'm going home, with my wife."

  Rosa froze, her face losing all colour. "You never said…never mentioned…a wife." Tears filled her eyes.

  No, she could not cry. Not now. Not after…

  He rushed to take her in his arms. "My lady, please do not cry. If I've done things wrong, I must make amends. Tell me again how the ancient marriage rite goes. I will do it all over, until I have it right."

  Her words were muffled in the folds of his shirt, but he could still make them out. "The couple would come to the altar, and pledge their love before witnesses. Then, they would spend the night in the sacred grove, to receive the gods' blessing on their union…"

  "And the priestesses. How was it different for them?" Chase prompted.

  "Only the High Priestess was permitted to marry, in a secret ceremony witnessed by the gods and those who served them, at Midwinter. The couple were allowed to drink nothing but Midwinter's Night mead, for they take the role of the winter goddess and the god of fire, uniting to drive away the cold and renew the land for another year. The couple were not truly married unless the gods found them worthy, by showing the couple a sign at d
awn, which is why the priestess often married one of the fire god's priests…" Rosa stared at him. "But you can't have meant to marry me. You're leaving."

  "I told you, I'm not going anywhere without you, and you wanted me to stay, Lady Rosa."

  "I'm not a lady. Just a village witch, and maybe a priestess. Nothing more. Chase, you could have married some princess or fine lady. Why would you tie yourself to someone like me?"

  "Because I love you, and I don't want some princess, or anyone else. I want you as my wife, Lady Rosa, which you are because you are a knight's lady. I pledged my life to you the first time you saved my life. And then you saved me again last night…so I am doubly indebted to you. A debt I will happily take a lifetime to repay." He took her hands in one of his, tilting her chin up with his other hand so that he might look into her eyes. "My lovely Lady Rosa, High Priestess to all the gods of the forest, will you accept a poor knight as your husband, to love and serve you until my last breath?"

  Please say yes, he thought but did not say. Would it help if he dropped to his knees and begged?

  "She already said yes."

  "Several times."

  "He was too busy between her thighs."

  "Yes!"

  More hissing laughter.

  "Silence! I would hear her answer, not yours!" Chase snapped.

  Silence fell.

  A giggle escaped from Rosa. "I don't think anyone has ever told the gods of the forest to be quiet before. Only the High Priestess is meant to hear them, and even then, I thought it might be something my grandmother made up. How you can hear them, too…I do not know."

  "Maybe it's the sign of the gods' favour, like you spoke of. Please, Rosa. An answer, I beg you."

  The trees seemed to lean in, as though they wanted to hear, too.

  She laughed. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! Especially if it means that last night won't be the only time we make love."

  "I sure hope not!" Chase wadded up the blankets and tossed them into the hand cart, followed by the empty mead jug. "I plan on warming your bed for many nights to come, Lady Rosa, if you are willing."

  Rosa tucked her arm under his. "I think I will grow accustomed to having you in my bed far faster than I will learn to like being Lady anything. But first, I'd like to cook my new husband a wedding breakfast. Something for stamina, and strength, washed down with something to sweeten his tongue…"