Forbidden Fables, page 6
I hear another howl, closer now.
Time passes. A few minutes, perhaps.
Now, I hear an animal’s snorts and puffs so close that I think I can feel its warmth on my neck. I can no longer muster the energy to even care.
If I died out here deep in the dark woods, would Gran even notice?
No, she would die most likely, and who would then notice my absence?
I vaguely remember giving her an excuse for my sneaking out. I always blamed it on her medicine. Even though I already had the flowers and herbs I needed.
Which ironically was the recipe my mother had taught me—and just the things that the brethren accused women of for witchcraft.
Something fluffs my hair, and it almost sounds like heavy panting. The snorts come louder as I feel something cold and wet press against my forehead. I sink back into the warm darkness and pretend my mother is wetting my brow.
Chapter 19
Fenrir
“What happens, Fen? You can tell me.” Her voice purrs in my ear, but I do not respond.
She is teasing me, trailing her fingers up and down my chest and stomach. I eye her fingers, my cock tight against my belly, throbbing.
“I take my wolf’s form.” My hands are linked beneath my head, and she is draped across me.
“I want to see.” She climbs on top of me, positioning me at her entrance. I close my eyes and groan as she slips me inside of her.
“Fuck,” I say with a groan. She is so warm and wet…for me.
I grab her hips as she circles me, the head of my cock hitting her deepest pleasure spot. It only takes a small moan that leaves her lips for me to lose all control.
I flip her onto her back, hooking her long leg over my shoulder. With her ass raised, I slam into her over and over. Our skin smacking together and I feel my balls tighten. I fuck into her with one final, hard thrust up and I’m spilling inside of her.
I feel my body quake, every hair standing on end. The change is coming swiftly behind my release and my body stretches to twice its size until I am standing over her in my full wolf form. Her eyes are wide and her small, naked body arches. A smile blossoms on her face and she bites her lip, looking pleased. It was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
I let out a chilling howl and turn from her.
I run to the door and don’t stop until I’ve reached the woods.
I wake up drenched in sweat, my cock rigid and angry.
This woman was made for me, her very ingredients a calming salve to the aching of my lonely soul.
She was mine. She just did not know it yet.
I can’t fall back to sleep. I need to fuck or fight, and the first one was impossible.
I would hunt, then.
The moon is almost full now, and my wolf is restless. If I sleep, the dreams come.
Why did these dreams keep coming to me? Was this a sign from Odin? Should I be heeding a warning, or was she the reason my wolf had been sent into a sexual frenzy?
I break into a run as I let myself be consumed with thoughts of her. I wanted to know what she smelled like, what she tasted like. What her face looked like completely breaking in pleasure for me.
I shift mid-run into my wolf’s form, shaking out my fur and feeling a small amount of relief.
I perk my ears, an unfamiliar sound in the distance. Carefully, I sneak toward the sound and lower my head.
The small stream is nearby, and I can hear the water splashing as if someone treads through it.
It is bitterly cold. It could only be an animal who’s lost its way.
A small scream and a loud splash cause me to run toward the commotion.
As the stream comes into view, I see a red flash of cloth.
I freeze.
Do my eyes deceive me? Did my dreams bring her to life?
I run to her, pulling her lifeless body from the swirling water.
As if she has sprouted from my dreams, the fox-haired girl lays unmoving under the ash tree that I’ve dragged her to.
I sniff at her wet clothes and look side to side, wondering where the red cloak is.
The men in the black coats. A trap, perhaps?
My wolf whines, the smallest bit of red catching my eye. I sprint to the small stream that cuts across the land, grabbing the cloth with my mouth and dragging it to her. I cover her as best I can, but my legs will not move.
I watch her for a moment. Her back rises and falls slowly. I sniff at her brow and a nostalgic feeling takes over me.
I cannot leave her here to die. I have no choice but to take her back to my fire, and I can only do so in my human form.
Chapter 20
Lux
Deep down, I luxuriate in the warmth. My body thawing from the stiffness in my arms and legs.
Perhaps I am dreaming again, only imagining the heat and comfort.
I look down over my body and I am only wearing my sheer white sleeping gown, nothing else.
My cape is gone, and I seem to be inside of a cabin that looks like it was built by a cave dweller.
I shiver and realize I am laying on the floor on top of a fur pelt.
I go searching for a mythical creature and end up captured by some…savage.
It is what you wanted, Lux. Who are you trying to fool?
The stone fire is roaring, and I feel for my satchel, but it is gone, along with my cape.
I mock myself with my own dirty thoughts. Just like Gran always says.
Your mind, always in the gutter!
I hear heavy footsteps coming from the adjoining room, and I cringe, keeping one eye open. The tallest man I have ever seen stood before me. His hair was tied back and shaved at the sides, a wild look on his tan face. A long, tangled beard the same blonde color as his hair hung nearly to his chest.
He’s carrying a hatchet and has murder written all over his stone face.
Does he want me to know he plans to kill me? Why would he bring me inside to warm? Why not just let me die out there?
Then my heart is in my throat.
He wants more than your life, Lux. He desires what’s in between your legs.
After I take a large gulp and tame my nerves, I can’t help but wonder if his beard would tickle the inside of my thighs. He is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“Where are my petticoats? And cloak?” I move slightly closer to the fire as a shiver runs through me.
He leans up against the doorway that connects the two rooms. “Wet,” is all he says.
His accent differs from mine. His ‘t’ is much softer, almost like a Scottish burr. I have learned about all the surrounding countries in my studies with Benjamin, and he never resisted a moment to brag on his father’s ship that would ‘discover new land’ eventually. And Benjamin would be famous; just what he needed—a bigger head.
“Do you plan to kill me?” I wanted to hear more of his deep voice and smooth accent.
“Are you not afraid to die?” He laughs, but it is an amused laugh. My cheeks redden.
“My mother wasn’t, so neither am I. I am brave like her.” I stick my nose in the air, feigning a bravery that I wasn’t sure I had just yet. After all, I did just venture out into the night alone. Even men were afraid of these woods when night fell. They feared the dark, but I did not.
He chuckles. “Fortune favors the brave. I think tonight is my lucky night.”
His eyes are an icy blue. It reminds me of the bitter cold frost that covers my windows at night. He is shirtless, tattoos sprawling across his chest and an unkempt beard that nearly reaches his equally furry chest. His abdomen was tight with muscles, and I let my eyes travel down to the dark trail that leads to two toned lines disappearing into his trousers.
I flush and realize I am thinking sinful things about a stranger.
Your mother was guilty of the sinful pleasures of the flesh! I forbid you to be like her. I see it, Lux. You cannot lie to me.
My ear rings as I remember Gran’s constant pestering. My only memories left, being of her and her discipline and religious ridicule. The hate I had made for myself over the years didn’t even match the hate Gran had for our entire situation. She was proud of my father and ashamed of my mother. Surely, that meant she was ashamed of me as well.
If only Gran could see me now.
The thought brings a smile to my face as I look down over my womanly body. The fire’s flames lick my pale complexion and dances over my curves. I am warm, all over my skin and deep inside my belly.
“What do you plan to do with me, then? Skin me like a deer? Strip me naked and hang me up like a kill?” I decide I will take my normal approach with this one, sure of myself. A man can smell weakness for miles, and by the look of this bloke, he could sniff out a rat in a brothel.
He walks to the shelves in the room's corner near the fire, near me. His footsteps are heavy, and I hear the floorboards squeak beneath his weight. He turns to me and says, “There are far worse things in these woods than me, I assure you. I have no such plans for you.”
Chapter 21
Fenrir
Fenrir, the warrior, the killer…tries to resist the raw hunger to rip that fancy little dress from her and ravage her soft body. Beneath those petticoats that dried near the fire, or whatever she had called them.
I could smell her arousal and hear her heart beating as swiftly as a bird. “Why are you wandering alone in these woods?” I grip the hatchet in my hand and look down at her.
Her chest rises and falls delicately, her lips bright red against her snowy skin.
I want to bite it, ravage it until she bleeds.
“I…I was looking for poppies. For my gran.” She cocks her head up and to the side, trying to look at me, but fails miserably.
I let a chuckle roll from my chest and stand at my full human height. She looks terrified and my Wolf is amused.
“Liar. Poppies only grow in the warm months. What were you really doing out there?” I furrow my brow at her little white lie.
Her eyes turn down, but then back to me, and I can see a flicker of anger flash behind them. “Escaping.”
I turn my thoughts to the men in the black coats. Was she running from them?
“Escaping what, exactly?” I lean down to where her curvy body is laying on the floor of furs and think back to the number of times I’ve heard the screams of women in these woods.
“My life.” She doesn’t look at me when she says it, and I wonder what could be so terrible about her life. It looks as if she has riches, things I never knew existed.
I let out a long breath as I sharpen my hatchet while we sit in silence, with the fire crackling now and then.
“These woods are dangerous.” I continue sharpening the blade with long strokes of the steel bar.
“Why? Because of you?” she says, sharp and full of condescension.
I stop, looking over her face. She seems to be unafraid of me, but I can hear her heart thumping hard. “Tell me about these poppies that you’re lying about. What do you plan to do with them?” I am intrigued by her wily mouth and quick wit.
“Lance the seeds and grind the gum with the other herbs I have. Not that it’s any of your business.” She tugs at her restraints, eyeing me.
“So, you are a healer?” Intrigued, I stop sharpening and pull up a wooden stool beside her and grab an apple from one of the many baskets that lined the floor. “The men here—Is that why they take the women?” Her face is that of a nymph, round and supple. Her hair is just as red, if not more so, as the dreams she visited me in. I chew the apple slowly, the sweetness covering my tongue as I watch her nervously hug her knees.
“What do you know about women? You live in the woods…a filthy savage of a man,” she spits, but her face flinches in shock as if she has surprised herself with her sharp words.
With two long strides, I am on her, pushing my face close to hers as I growl loudly. I wrap my hand around her neck, my thumb and forefinger nearly touching. Her head is against the beam in the middle of the room, and she watches my lips as I grind out the words, “I am no man, little lamb.”
I squeeze slightly. Her face strained, eyes bulging. Her cheeks turn bright pink as she wraps her small hand around mine, relenting.
It pains my heart seeing her face that way, so I let go.
Releasing her, I stand and turn as she violently wiggles her body around until her hair is covering her face and she is panting.
I have no sympathy for this one. It appears she has done this all on her own; come into my woods looking for a plant that only blooms in the summer.
A healer. She would make for the perfect mother and wife.
I shut my eyes and walk to the shelf beside the fire, full of stores and gifts from the men in the black coats.
Are the men stealing these women of their magic?
No matter the answer, I couldn’t understand why these women wander alone in the woods at night, but perhaps these men are stealing them from their own beds. Our clan went to great lengths to protect our women, but it seems these men had no intention of protecting them…Rather, they sacrificed them.
And for what?
Was their God a greedy one? Demanding a sacrifice of only the most powerful of humans?
Odin only asked us for our bravery, strength, and honor—a sacrifice of a powerful shaman or woman would only cast a man to death.
“If you are not a man, then what are you? Are you the one they call the Wolf of the Woods? Did you not get your offerings this day? Is this why you have taken me?” Her plump lips distract me as she speaks, never stopping for a breath.
She is asking too many questions.
“I am not the one collecting women, if that is what you are asking.” I sit back down beside her, an effort to prove that I had no intentions to hurt her. I must figure out what to do with her, although all I can think about is keeping her.
The sting of Sybil’s words—the way she looked at Erik that night—still burned my heart. The memory solidifies my reasons for being alone…I did not need a woman…
My wolf stirs, and I realize he is pleased with her and will not relent until I’ve had her. The dreams surely brought to me by him, or perhaps Odin. The realization that these dreams I have had of her—I never had them before Sybil…Perhaps dreams are the call for my true mate.
I just hope Emon was right.
“What is your name?” I stood again, her eyes following at my back as I fill my cup with ale—a part of the Viking way, infused in my blood.
At first, she didn’t respond, but after a moment’s thought, she whispered, “Lux.”
It shocked me, the way her name fell so easily from her lips. It was as if…I already knew it. The letters of her name looped behind my eyes and the wolf inside of me invoked a vivid vision.
Red hair, laughter, and sunshine. Running fast through a green field of daisies as flashes of her bright smile hit the sunlight. The sight of her fills my belly with warmth and consumes my heart with rapture.
Lux, Lux, Lux.
As if a lost key was returned to me—unlocking everything I had ever shoved down, deep inside me. The overwhelming need to protect her, to help her…to claim her as my own. I shook out my head at the thought, and decide it is best for her to stay here with me until I can figure out who she belongs to. She would fight me, but it was for her own good.
“I think it is best you stay here with me until morning.” I leave the room, my word final, and set down a pot at her feet, along with a pitcher of water.
“Are you mad?! You expect me to stay here on the floor, bound with no food?” Her face scrunches into a sour expression, but still looks as angelic as Freyja herself. Her top lip curves into a sharp bow, her closed mouth mimicking the shape of a heart—her eyes swell with tears.
I did not plan to bring her here, but the inherent need to protect her was too overwhelming. The familiarity of her, like a long-lost lover, returned home.
I needed to be alone and pray to Odin for answers.
Was she a gift? Had I finally lost my mind from the seclusion and loneliness, and imagined her? Was I dreaming now? The throb deep in my balls told me different. I needed to find out more about her. I needed to know who she was. Where did that fire inside of her come from? Perhaps she was not just a healer, but a sorceress.
One thing I knew for certain: I didn’t want to let her go.
She stands, her figure glowing in the firelight beneath the white shift. Her hands in fists at her sides, she says, “I am leaving now. You are the scariest thing in these woods! Just look at this place!”
She walks to the shelf, moving baskets and bottles, clearly searching for something. “I have your things, if that’s what you’re after.” I cross my arms and puff out my chest.
“Fine! Then I’ll leave without them!” She walks to the door, half naked with no warm clothes, and I take two long strides to stand in front of it.
“I didn’t want to do this, but if I must do so to keep you safe…I’ll have to tie you up.”
Chapter 22
Lux
The following morning, after a tortured night of not being able to find a comfortable way to sleep, I am bound and badly need to use the loo. I barely touched the water he gave me, and my neck throbs from the way I was sleeping.
Though she was a wretched woman, Gran still made sure we had the finer things available to us, even in these woods. Deliveries came once a week, rain or shine. Expensive soaps, linens, and tea. Granted, it was not for me, but for her. I missed the rich taste of the hot, brown drink she called coffee.
I am still wearing last night’s dressing gown, and dirt cakes my ankles and feet. My mouth parts, dry beside the now almost extinguished fire. The room is dark besides the morning light that barely shines in through the small windows.
