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The Bridal Hunt (Brides of the Hunt Book 1)

Page 4

by Jeanette Lynn


  He took another hearty drink from the pouch, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm, and offered me a sip.

  Mouth still stuck in a half-gape, I shook my head, cringing away. He simply shrugged as if to say, “Fine, suit yourself.”

  Eyeing him uncertainly, I watched as he waded through the mush and muck and thick snow quickly piling up all around us as it began to fall harder, headed towards a small stream to fill his water bag up again. Warily studying the strange beast creature, I waited for him to crouch down and turn his back to me as he tried to refill it, before I dared move a muscle.

  Not one to shirk a chance when one presented itself, I took the opportunity and ran, my breath puffing white little smoke rings in the chilly winter air as I raced willy-nilly in the direction I thought—hoped—we'd come from.

  Kind of hard to tell which way was which when you were being carried upside down over someone's shoulder like a bag of grain, bouncing around as the scenery blurred by, but this was a start.

  Once again, not a minute later, I was effortlessly plucked up from the ground, my legs pinwheeling in the air, cursing a blue streak at beasts and men and just about anything under the sun, as he lifted me with ease.

  Jerked back hard enough to rattle me more than a bit, I squawked in protest, swinging my arms uselessly as the beast pinned my back to his front.

  "Stay, female. Hunt you down. Eat you," he gritted out as he leaned in, running his teeth warningly along my neck.

  Stilling immediately, I gasped in fear, stiffening, the sudden realization that I was probably going to die a terrible, monstrously horrible death with a horrific end paralyzing me.

  "Eat me?!" I squeaked out.

  Growling low, my captor gave my neck a quick flick of his tongue and nipped the tender flesh, sweat breaking out all over me as my breaths grew choppy.

  Don't pass out! Don't pass out, I commanded myself, but black spots were already dancing in my vision.

  My heartbeat picked up and I tried to stay calm, tried to settle my suddenly roiling stomach as he sniffed my neck and gave it another lick.

  A low, rumbling sound vibrating his chest, causing me further alarm, he kept me pressed tightly against him, inhaling deeply at the crook of my neck.

  Panic won over, my mind racing with horrible thoughts, scaring the piss out of me, each and every painful, bloody death-of-me scenario I could possibly think of running through my overactive imagination. It was my own demise on replay, each ending unique in its own gory, agonizing, gruesome way.

  I've been kidnapped by a man-eating snow beast who’s threatening to eat me! There’ll be no happy ending for me.

  "I think I'm going to be sick," I mumbled as a loud ringing sound started up in my ears.

  The beast released me immediately, watching me with those creepy, yellow eyes of his as I stumbled to the ground. Unable to put any real space between us, I ended up throwing up near his feet, gagging and coughing noisily until there was nothing left to bring up.

  A warm, wet hand landed on the nape of my neck as I slumped dazedly next to the contents of my stomach. Jackknifing up, crying out, I managed to stumble a short distance away, tripping on my own rubbery legs in the process.

  Feeling the backs of my eyes burn, I plopped to the ground again, willing my useless body back into motion. It was pointless—my body and brain weren’t even on the same wave length, and my arms and legs didn't seem willing enough to cooperate.

  Groaning helplessly, I crawled a few feet before flopping onto the snow covered ground, uncaring as the cold immediately started to seep in through my clothes.

  “We go.” The beast man picked me up, holding me against his chest, his warmth pricking my chilled body as well as any heated blanket could.

  Resuming his brisk pace, striding swiftly into the rougher part of the forest, traversing it with ease, he aimed to reach his destination—wherever the heck that was. I had no choice but to go along for the ride.

  Fear was still roiling through me, my hands shaking badly, whether with shock or nervous anxiety, I couldn't really say, as he pulled me to him tighter. Probably a bit of both at the moment.

  After a while we walked into a mossy area near a waterfall—a sort of small clearing—other man-beasts gathering together around a massive rock formation. Picking up his pace, a sense of urgency in his step and the way he straightened, his back stiffening, chin lifting high, we headed straight for them.

  Whimpering in protest, I hunched tighter into myself, the action pressing me closer to my beast captor.

  Gah, there's more of them? I goggled as many, many more appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. And where are we? Daring a peek around, maybe familiarize myself with something, I lifted my head a little, gaze darting around.

  I've never seen or heard of any place like this before, I thought, with a little bit of awe. It was lush and green, and even though it was the middle of winter, with snow piling down all around the perimeter of the area, it didn't touch right here. Wherever the hell here is.

  Plants with electric blue and bright yellow streaking through were popping up everywhere, the mist from the small waterfall I’d spotted right off gleaming bright. With a strange, purple tint to the churning water, it cast an eerie, almost ethereal sort of glow. The steam rising up from it, warm liquid hissing and crackling, bubbling away noisily just below, carried a bit of a faint lavender hue as it rose up.

  The whole effect was enough I found myself staring, entranced by the otherworldly-ness of this wild, mysterious place.

  Farther off, I spotted a smaller yet impossibly deep looking pool—or well, for a better word—the larger pool fed into. This water, if I hadn’t seen its original source or spotted the purple mist, came off almost entirely black at first, it was so dark—with small, smooth, onyx stones and larger, jagged charcoal rocks surrounding its midnight depths.

  The smaller offshoot pond the fall and well both emptied into appeared to glow faintly, glitteringly—the lightest of the three—like a thousand twinkling fairy lights had hidden themselves somewhere just below the surface.

  Grunts and growling caught my attention, pulling my gaze away from all the strange wonders surrounding me. Peering around my present company curiously, swallowing hard at all the newcomers I’d yet to notice, I was shocked at the sheer number of furry man-beasts.

  Taking each one in, one by one, I studied them all in fearful silence as they openly stared back, realizing with swift clarity what they looked like, at least to me, as I took in their odd features. Abominable Snowmen—what I would imagine they looked like anyway—big foot with white hair and sharp teeth.

  I've been kidnapped by an Abominable Snowman, I thought hysterically. I'm going to die at the hands of a group of man-eating Abominable Snowmen.

  Some of the beast-men also had women with them too, I noted, each beast carrying them along like sacks of potatoes, much the same way my journey into the world of Beast Kidnapping 101 had started out.

  Did they know what fate had in store for them, too? Were any of these women aware of their soon to be untidy demises? Maybe they were all in shock, too.

  The Abominable beasties were all talking in some weird dialect with lots of grunting, growling, and tongue rolling, their excitement apparent in their actions and movements as their voices rose. Their exuberance made me think of little kids at Christmas. Or, beast creatures ready to barbeque some tasty humans, readying for a feast. My guts roiled unhappily at the thought.

  My captor moved, hitching me up higher as he confidently strode forward. They were all moving closer, a crush of fur as far as the eye could see, bumping shoulders as each jostled for position, gathering around the rock formation I'd glimpsed briefly earlier.

  My beastie stepped forward, bouncing on the balls of his feet, growling until all the other man-beasts cleared a path, allowing him a strip of ground leading up to the strange rock.

  With his beastly lips pulling back into what I supposed was a smile, I panicked, a sense of foreboding fi
lling me, ratcheting up as he chuckled darkly.

  Eyes darting back and forth from his expression to that funny looking rock, I gasped, guessing his intentions. “No,” I mumbled faintly. “No. You can’t!”

  Pausing as he crouched down, leaning forward, his strange yellow eyes peered down at me questioningly.

  “You can’t. Please... no.”

  The beast grunted, eyes darting away, and rolled his shoulders. “We go.”

  “But I don’t... Gah!” Scrambling for purchase, I clutched at the Abominable gripping me tight, no other option for me, his body unconcerned as it coiled tight, and then he sprang.

  Popping up fast, he started at a run, picking up speed quickly, charging straight for the rocks in front of us, his thickly furred head ducking low.

  “I don’t wanna diiieeee!” I screamed, more than alarmed, clawing at the crazy beast man desperately, tugging at his thick mane of hair to get his attention, frantically trying to steer him in a different direction, anything but death-by-rock-pancake.

  He just gripped my flailing body tighter.

  My captor growled a funny sound in his throat, snarling as my grip on his hair tightened—to the point I probably ripped some free—but I knew he wasn’t changing course.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I threw up a silent prayer and prepared for impact.

  Making the epic mistake of opening my eyes at the last possible moment, I was greeted by an up close view of the rock face, right there before me, seconds away from barreling right into it.

  Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I let out a horror movie worthy scream the moment I thought we were about to hit. Locking up, curled into myself as small as possible—given my position—I waited for the unimaginable pain sure to follow.

  Time passed and I held my breath.

  Nothing.

  Had he changed his mind? I didn’t feel like we’d changed directions, and I’m currently not suffering excruciating pain.

  The seconds ticked by, slowly turning into minutes. And I waited.

  Still, nothing.

  Chest squeezing painfully, I opened my mouth and sucked in a deep breath, gulping oxygen in noisily. I must have been holding it for a little too long, longer than I realized. Everything spinning a bit, I found myself gasping for air, starting to feel lightheaded and woozy all over again.

  Once I’d finally caught my breath, I cracked an eye open, the fact that we hadn't hit anything but hadn’t changed direction at all, and yet here I still am, slowly registering.

  Noises started to grow closer, faint sounds that had once been in the distance—the low hum of a drum, sharp crackles of what I assumed was a fire, grunts and growls, and the clank of metal on a hard surface, maybe rock.

  Ten minutes had probably passed since the waterfall, maybe more, as I’d done a rather convincing impression of a plank of wood—immobile, stiff as a board in my kidnapper’s arms—and then a dying fish, gulping air in panicked pants while I flopped about.

  Since I hadn’t died via rock face, all those soon-to-be-eaten fears resurfaced. Is this where he takes his victims?

  Peering around surreptitiously through my lashes, intrigued and eager for an out, my lids dipping so low as to appear closed, I glimpsed a thin ring of smoke curling towards a blue and black sky. A smoke ring? Surprised, I opened my eyes a little more, spotting several smoke stacks with dark puffs steadily rising out of them.

  Smoke stacks... in the forest? Where the hell am I?! This was not the forest we were just in a few moments ago.

  As voices joined the animal-like grunts of the snow beasts coming closer, though a bit farther away than all the other noise, it was the first bit of reassurance I’d found throughout this whole ordeal. There are more people here!

  My eyes flew open wide then and I sputtered in shock, finding myself in the middle of a somewhat primitive Abominable village. Jerking in the arms of the beast keeping me clutched tight to his chest, I let out a gurgled, strangled sound in the back of my throat.

  So many sets of bright colored eyes, of every hue on the spectrum, bore into me, soaking up the sight of me curiously, watching us, my beast and me, avidly. Curious gazes studying, I openly goggled back, man-beasts stepping forward to sniff at me and touch my long, dark brown hair.

  Reacting impulsively, I slapped at them and even growled outright at a couple when their hands began to wander unabashedly about my person.

  "Do you mind?!" I grouched, momentarily forgetting the precarious situation I’d found myself in.

  I mean, hasn't anyone ever told them not to play with their food?! Really!

  Whether from nerves or hysteria, finally setting in to take its toll, I giggled at the ridiculousness of my own sick joke, mocking myself in the face of my own demise.

  You've completely fallen down the rabbit hole, Wilhelmina, and landed on your fool head. On the heels of that thought I broke out into a fit of hysterical giggles, pursing my lips to keep the rest from escaping.

  I think it is now safe to say, you have officially cracked, Mina, old gal.

  Slapping my hand over my mouth to muffle it, I giggled again, knowing if I tried to actually stop myself from laughing I would probably cry.

  Another curious snow beastie—whatever you want to call them—sidled up to us, his eyes gleaming bright as he reached out towards me, as if to try and cop a feel on one of my fun bags.

  "Keep your hands to yourself, miscreant! Didn't your mother teach you anything?! If you’re planning to eat me and all, the least you could do is contain yourself!" Erm, guess I could have gone with something else, but that’s all I got at the moment. So... there! And then I was off, snort-giggling through my nose like a crazed lunatic as the groping jerk lurched back.

  The man-beast holding me stared down at me oddly, then growled at the wannabe groper. Giving his head a slight shake, he chuckled a little at my continued grumbling and impromptu giggling.

  Hitching me up a little higher, he said something in beast-speak to the others that had them all finally backing off.

  The phrase ‘Kirch’ kept coming up as other snow beasties addressed my captor, grunting out the word gutturally as he passed—a beastly greeting, one might figure. It was safe to assume that was his name.

  Kirch. Huh... Weird.

  This Kirch being carried me to a sturdy looking hut, shouldering the door open, and walked right in. Grunting something I couldn’t make out to the other occupants of the room as my eyes adjusted, he set me down, smack dab in the middle of the room, motioning for me to stay put. With that, he spun around and left.

  Frowning, scratching at my head in confusion, I took this opportunity to take in my surroundings. Compared to outside, I was slightly taken aback by how warm and inviting it all was. Don't get me wrong, it was still pretty cold in here, but compared to out there this was downright cozy.

  This oddly shaped structure looked almost like a large, weird, enclosed tiki hut from the outside, a well-built tiny one room house from within.

  The inside was put together better than I would have guessed. Better built, more structurally sound, some type of stucco like plaster all over the walls, and rough cut stones for the floors. Whatever they used to insulate the place must be working really well, I thought idly.

  A strong wind whipped against one of the windows, snow spattering and sticking to the sill, further illustrating my point.

  "I'm admiring the durability of a hut,” I muttered aloud, voice dripping with condescension. And then, much lower, “Oh, Mina, you're as bad as George now. God... I'm even talking to myself and referring to myself in the third person.”

  About to give in and let myself sink into a deep pit of despair, the aromatic smell of food hit my nose, drawing me from my stormy thoughts. Following my nose, my head whipped around, searching out the source.

  There it was in the far corner, a round black pot hanging on a thick, sort of gritty, metallic looking hook over a fireplace, set off to the side in the far wall.

  My nose crinkled at
the tip as I allowed myself a few deep, appreciative sniffs. Wow. Whatever was inside smelled wonderful, my stomach grumbling as I took another whiff.

  Wait... but what, exactly, is it? Animal? Mineral? Vegetable? People? A mixture of any or all? I cringed just thinking about it. Please don't let it be people stew, I thought wildly, my queasy tummy doing crazy somersaults at the idea.

  The Kirch beastie hurried back in moments later with a large, lumpy, furry ball rolled up in his hands. Unrolling it and giving it a good shake, he held it out, revealing an animal skin blanket.

  Shaking it again, held out in front of him, he lowered it enough to peer at me from over the top. Glancing around furtively, then back to his blanket, I eyeballed him skeptically and shot to my feet, scrambling away when he approached.

  Fur outstretched towards me, he meant for me to take it.

  No idea what accepting the animal pelt would signify, I yelped and dodged, ducking under one of his massive arms and scurrying to the other side of the room. Is it a sacrificial blanket? Is he going to wrap me up in it to cook me in? What does it mean?!

  He tried again, approaching me like one would a frightened animal, crooning something soothingly in his strange, growling beast language I had no clue as to what. I darted away, narrowly missing him when he made as if to lunge.

  Muffling a strangled yelp, I shook my head frantically, putting my hands up to ward him off.

  “No. No. I don’t want it,” I babbled, backing up until my butt hit a wall. “Whatever it is, whatever it means, I’m good. Seriously. Keep it, okay? I insist.”

  The persistent beast started rumbling at me in annoyance, pointing at me and then the fur, motioning with his hands for me to take it and put it on.

  Not gonna happen.

  Head whipping back and forth so bad I was probably giving myself a neck injury, I stubbornly refused it, putting my hands up and flailing them around every time he tried to hold it out in offering.

  "Take," he demanded, grunting for emphasis.

 

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