Bane of Winter Page 7

  The wolves had melted into the crowd now, and the heat that had gathered in my chest seeped outward to spread through my limbs. The woman was staring at me, waiting for an answer to her questions. Oh, crap. Um …

  I shook my head, eyes downcast. “I’d rather not recall.”

  She made a tutting sound. “Yes, of course, the mortal mind is a fragile thing also.”

  “What would you know?” her male companion asked. “You’ve never seen a mortal in your life.”

  “Well, I’m looking at one now.” She patted my arm. “Not all of us are depraved. Just a select few.” She sniffed, glancing across the room at Lyrian and his brother. “I’d steer clear of the twins. They’re the queen’s pets, so they’ve gotten above their station a little. She indulges them too much.”

  The man gasped. “Iana, please.” He glanced about, as if expecting someone to pounce on them at any moment.

  I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her pale face seemed to go even paler. “I … The wine is potent.”

  He slipped an arm around her waist. “Yes, maybe we should get you home to bed.”

  They were leaving? The idea of losing them as a buffer made my stomach hurt. “May I walk out with you?”

  The woman smiled. “Yes. Hinly, we should escort her into the hall.” She leaned in and whispered, “And then, my dear, you should run all the way back to your chambers and bolt the doors.”

  My heart thudded a little faster.

  Her expression was soft. “You’ll be all right, my dear. You’ll learn the ways of the court soon enough, and maybe … maybe you’ll even grow to like them.” But her expression wasn’t too optimistic.

  Thank goodness I’d paid attention on the way to the gathering. Thank goodness my feet had a mind of their own, because the castle was a dark and echoing place filled with murmurs and eerie laughter.

  I was almost at the entrance to the east wing when a figure stepped out of the shadows of an alcove up ahead. Silver eyes locked onto me, and my pulse slammed hard in my throat.

  Lyrian. Had he followed me? He couldn’t hurt me. Not without going against the queen’s wishes. I lifted my chin and walked toward him, but he remained in my path, refusing to budge.

  I came to a standstill a foot away from him. “Excuse me.”

  “I wonder what it is she sees in you?” He took a deep breath through his nose. “The delectable aroma is a given. Mortality is always a lure. But there is something else.” He began to circle me, like the beast he was, and my muscles tensed instinctively, prepared to fight or flee. Dammit, I should have brought my dagger, found a way to tuck it under my skirts.

  My chest grew warm with Morrigan’s power. The Raven was right—it was becoming stronger, more attuned to my needs. But I couldn’t use it. Not yet. Not here, and especially not on Lyrian, the queen’s wolf.

  “What is it?” He came to a standstill too close, so his collar was level with my eyes.

  Oh, God, he was huge. Almost as large as Veles. Larger than Finn. I closed my eyes briefly. No. I could do this. I didn’t need any man to protect me. The conviction was fierce and sudden, and it had my head jerking up and my lip curling.

  “Maybe the queen simply tires of your bestial company. Maybe I am simply a replacement for you.”

  His head snapped back as if I’d slapped him, and then his hands were crushing my shoulders as he hauled me off my feet. “I could snap your neck right now.”

  I looked into his eyes levelly. “I have no doubt you could. But you won’t, because that would be stupid.”

  He released me abruptly. “Enjoy your moment as favored, mortal. Because it won’t last, and when my queen is done with you, it will be me who will gnaw on your bones.” He melted into the shadows, taking his suffocating presence with him.

  I made the rest of the journey to the east wing at a sprint.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The east wing had a comforting feel, despite its raw brick walls and lack of fine drapery, and once the door was bolted on my room, I felt safe enough.

  The fire was almost out, but a handful of kindling and some more wood had it crackling merrily again. The dress was so tight it was as if it was painted onto my skin, but with enough effort, I managed to wriggle free and flop on the bed in the flimsy undergarments Nia had provided.

  A fluttering filled the air, and before my brain could register what it meant, or act on that knowledge, the Raven was standing at the foot of my bed. His eyes widened, his throat bobbed, and then he turned his back on me.

  “Well, that was unexpected, hmmm?”

  Oh, crud. I searched for my cloak, anything to cover myself, and noticed a cream nightdress. Nia must have left it here for me. I tugged it over the scanty undergarments.

  “I’m fine. All decent now.”

  He’d seen me naked, he’d lain with me naked, but the circumstances had been dire, and then afterward … no, don’t think about that.

  The Raven turned to face me, his expression composed. “What happened?”

  I flopped back onto the bed. “Nothing much. I was introduced and then groped by the queen’s wolfmen pets, and then accosted on the way back to my rooms. Everyone seems to have a fixation with the way I smell.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I can see how that might be an issue in a place like this.”

  I sat up. “You too?”

  He winced. “The fey are sexual beings, Wynter. Virginity is rare. The chaste mortals who found their way into Faerie did not remain chaste for long. The fey can beguile and seduce to get what they want. You are like a jasmine bloom amongst black orchids.” He perched on the edge of the mattress. “Maybe we should leave sooner?”

  Oh, how I wanted to do that, but to leave now without really having tried to find out anything would be giving up. “No. I can do this. I just need to convince Rayne to allow me to wander the castle. If I can get down into the servants’ quarters, maybe I can get some answers from the staff. Maybe someone who’s worked here for a long time might know what happened to the king?”

  He looked torn. “I would suggest removing temptation by altering your aroma.”

  Wait, what? Altering my aroma? But that would mean … “Are you suggesting …”

  “No.” He looked away. “I am afraid that might make you less appealing to the queen and put you in even more danger.”

  But he’d made the suggestion. Would he have offered to do the deed himself? My throat was suddenly dry, and the pulse at the base of my throat fluttered.

  His nostrils flared and his fist curled against the silk sheet on the bed. “I should go.”

  He was leaving? “Wait. Why do you have to leave? The door is bolted. You should stay here with me.”

  I’d spent years sleeping alone, but the last few nights, curled into his side, had spoiled me.

  He didn’t meet my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I grinned. “And we finally get a comfortable bed.”

  He smiled. “Very well, I will stay until dawn.”

  We slipped beneath the covers, and he lay flat on his back and waited for me to snuggle into his side. With my head pillowed on his chest, I finally drifted off to sleep.

  He’s a fool. He’s wrong. There is another way. It looks like I’ll have to be the one to show you.

  Berstuk?

  I woke with my hand clutching my warm throat and the shadow of embers dancing across the ceiling.

  “Hello, Wynter.”

  The bed beside me was empty. But the voice was no longer in my head. There was a presence in the room with me. My brain screamed at me to move, but my limbs wouldn’t cooperate.

  “How are you here?” My voice was a whispered tremor.

  Berstuk rose up between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs as he pushed the nightgown up to expose me. “You left the door open, Wynter.”

  My breath was shallow as I looked down on the bare expanse of his chest, down the hard pectorals and washboard stomach, down to… Oh, God. I tore my gaze back up to
his face, to his perfectly cruel features.

  “This isn’t real.”

  He ran his hand over my abdomen, up between my breasts, and then cupped my throat and squeezed with enough pressure to force me to catch my breath, but not enough to hurt.

  “I marked you, Wynter. Wherever you go, I follow.” He dropped his head and pressed his nose to my stomach and inhaled. “So sweet. Such purity.” He looked up, his eyes blazing. “They’ll chew you up and spit you out. They’ll come at you like vultures. You won’t last another day here despite what your feathered friend believes.”

  I felt the truth of his words in the pit of my stomach, in the firm grip of his calloused fingers on my soft thighs. I felt it reverberate through me, and fear bloomed warm and eager in my mind.

  He’d counseled me twice. Saved me twice, and as much as he repelled me, there was no denying he was on my side. For now. “So, what do you suggest?”

  He licked my navel, sending a shudder through me, and then ran his tongue over his lips as if savoring the taste of me. “I suggest a little sin.” He began to move down. “A little pleasure to take the edge off your maidenhood. To dull that sweet aroma just a little.”

  “What … what … don’t …”

  My back arched as he parted me with his tongue, slipping over my most intimate place.

  “Stop.” The word was a gasp.

  He ran his tongue over me again and then looked up, his eyes gleaming wickedly from between my thighs. “Really, Wynter? Do you really want me to stop?”

  My body was quivering as the shocks of pleasure from his invasion rippled over my skin.

  “Truth.” His gaze hardened. “Do you want me to stop doing this?” He licked me again, but this time he didn’t come up for air; his mouth latched onto me, and he began to suck.

  Sounds I didn’t know I could make tore from my throat and my hands tangled in his hair; I was conflicted as to whether to force him away or tug him closer.

  He pulled back and reared up. “Or maybe you’d prefer this.” His hand found my center, his palm pressing to my sweet spot, and then his fingers pushed into me; the sensation was uncomfortable at first but then not nearly enough. I lifted my hips involuntarily, wanting, inviting him in, needing more.

  “Yes, that’s it. You want this. You’re a fucking goddess. A powerful being trapped in a mortal body, but you know … You know what it is you want, and you’ve never had a problem taking it.”

  Oh, God. “How … How do you know?”

  He was still inside me, his fingers sliding in and out, the heel of his hand teasing my nub.

  “I knew as soon as I marked you. And now I need to taste you. To remember.” His fingers slid out of me, and he ducked his head to capture me with his mouth again.

  My thighs opened wider as if of their own accord, my hips rose to meet him, rolling against his mouth, and the bite of his fingers held me in place as he devoured me.

  “Oh, God, please. Please.” Heat rose up my body and settled at my throat. Something was about to happen, something awful and wonderful and … Oh, God. My body shuddered violently as sensation ripped through me, coalescing at the apex of my thighs; heat exploded from my center and wetness flooded me. My cry was guttural and primal, and then my body was nothing but a trembling mass of jellied bones.

  Berstuk rose up, his mouth glistening with my juices. His eyes were dazed, his lips parted as if on a sigh. “Wynter …” He raked me with his gaze. “Fucking hell.” And then his face rippled and morphed, and it was no longer Berstuk staring back at me but the Raven. He gasped and released me, as if the contact burned, and then he too was gone in a flurry of black feathers, leaving me aching and soaking wet and completely and utterly satiated.

  Chapter Fourteen

  VELES

  The forest closes in around me and the moist stench of decay hits the back of my throat. This is home. This is where the beast belongs. It longs to fall onto all fours and strip off the memories. It longs to revel in the hunt and the dribble of warm blood down its chin.

  I have been a beast too long for it to release me so soon, but the memory of Wynter’s scent and the feel of her skin beneath my tongue keep me grounded. I am here for Black Annis. I am here so that I can find a way back to Wynter, and the beast will have to be still.

  I climb over logs and jog across the fragrant mossy earth, dark and gray and black with Berstuk’s taint. This forest, which was once lush and green, is now his playground. Will he stop me? Will he come out to fight me?

  His Baku are dead, slain by Wynter’s hand. He will want retribution. Even before the spell took our minds, Berstuk was a twisted god, preferring to inflict pain and cause conflict. It is no surprise his loss of memory turned him darker, and as the god of nature, he naturally took to the forests of Nawia.

  I am deep in her domain now, the tiny corner she calls home, and not even Berstuk is insane enough to challenge her, the most dangerous of us all. Black Annis … although try as I might, I cannot recall what part she plays in the grand scheme of things? Was she a goddess before this? If so, who? I resolve to ask Dagda when I return, but for now I come to a halt in the clearing surrounded by bent and twisted trees and covered in a thin, reedy fog.

  “Annis, I wish to speak with you.”

  Silence greets me, but I feel her presence. She is here. She is watching.

  “Annis, I need your help.”

  Soft laughter echoes around the clearing. “The great and powerful Veles requires my help? What is it this time? More poison in your veins? Wait … where is your mortal companion?”

  “That is why I have come to you. She is in danger, and you are the only one who can help me get to her.”

  The fog parts and a hooded figure with gnarled hands peeking out from the sleeves of her cloak steps through. “Danger?”

  “Yes.” How much should I tell her? How much does she already know?

  “Enough, God of Death. Enough to know that this place is a lie. Enough to want to be free of it. Enough to know that your mortal companion is no more mortal than I am.”

  My heart stills for a moment, and then the beast surges to the surface, its instinct to protect what is precious to us, even though it doesn’t fully comprehend why, and I have bridged the gap between us to lunge for her. She shifts like a shadow, her wail of rage a frightful thing that tears at my skin.

  “You dare. You dare to attack me?” Her voice raises in pitch until it threatens to shatter my eardrums.

  The beast is ready to fight, to tear and shred and bleed, but this is not the way. Not now. Not for this.

  “I’m sorry.” I hold up my hands in a plea. It is a strange sensation, for I have never pleaded for anything in my life. “The beast is still strong within me.”

  The fog parts again, and this time, a beast steps out of it to greet us. A sleek, black monster, its head as high as my chest even on all fours.

  “Does this placate your beast?” The voice comes from the wildcat even though it does not move its lips. “Maybe this will keep it in check while we barter.” The cat fixes its red eyes on me. “What is it you want, Veles?”

  She knows. I can hear it in the voice, but I play along. “I need you to take my godhood so that I may go to Wynter.”

  A low growl emanates from her throat. “Yesss. Yesss, that would be the only way. But this place, Nawia, is your domain. If you strip away your godhood, you leave it vulnerable. You leave it to the likes of Berstuk, and to the likes of me.” The big cat cants its head. “Is this woman worth the sacrifice?”

  “You know she is, just as you know what will become of this place if she fails. So let’s stop playing games, and tell me what it is you want in return?”

  “Games … I was never the one to play games. If I’d been more adept at games, then things would have been different.”

  She is slipping away into her memories. “Annis, please. Time is running short.”

  Her head snaps up. “Yes. I will give you what you want, and in return you will
owe me a boon to be collected at a date of my choosing.”

  I don’t like this. I don’t like the unknown, but what choice do I have? “You have a deal.”

  Her feline mouth opens in a hungry grin. “Then stay still, God of Death. This may hurt. A lot.”

  Her roar fills the clearing as she leaps at me.

  For the first time in a long time there is pain. I lie on the ground, aching and gasping as the big cat stands over me, its eyes gleaming with triumph.

  “A god no more,” Annis says. “If I rip out your throat now, there will be no saving you.”

  “But you won’t.”

  She pads away, leaving me to stare up at the canopy of dark foliage above. “Go now. Your destiny awaits, as does mine …” The fog closes in around me and stings my skin.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

  I close my eyes. No. Not now.

  Berstuk circles me, his hooves sinking into the earth as he walks. “I sense something different about you tonight.”

  “I don’t want to fight you, Berstuk.”

  “I should think not, especially not in your condition. But it isn’t me you need to be wary of now that you’ve permitted Annis to suck you dry.”

  He sounds tense, anxious even, and I open my eyes to see his hand hovering above me.

  “Take it, you fool, and get up.”

  His expression is sincere, his emerald eyes clear, and I take his hand without question. He hauls me up easily.

  “Get out of here and be quick. My minions hunt and they are hungry, and you … You are no longer one of them. You reek of prey.” He bares his teeth. “Even to me.”

  Howls and chitters rise around us.

  Berstuk sighs in exasperation. “Go, you fool, before it’s too late.”

  Questions hover on my lips, confusion and suspicions and connections, but my gut screams at me to listen to the horned god and run. I turn away and break into a sprint. I am no longer a god, but my limbs are still strong, and my beast is still powerful.