Without having to elaborate for him, he understood. “As with anything I’ve decided to believe in, I have questioned my life many a times, but my faith has never faltered.”
Right, I thought as he left. Never faltered.
˜˙˜*˜˙˜
When the noises came this night, I crept towards the garden, a wild plan forming in my mind.
Slipping the thin fur blanket over my itchy blanket cloak, the night was abuzz with things to come, wind whistling, moons high and bright, fat snowflakes coming down steadily, a flurry of activity. Another storm looked about to hit.
I knew he was there before I’d even stepped out. I could feel him, sense his presence. My fingers went to my necklace and I said a silent prayer.
My booted feet crunched noisily as I took those first few tentative steps, leaves and ice beneath the snowfall announcing my arrival.
All-father be damned, I was getting Kvigor back.
˜˙˜*˜˙˜
Bright purple eyes tracked me as I approached. Face gaunt, charred marks marred his face and arms, worse than before. I could make out the shape of his lower ribs, thick collarbones, cheekbones more prominent than usual, his stomach starting to suck in.
He was standing there, still as a statue, so close to the gate he was almost touching it, head lowered slightly, horns through the bars, staring at me from beneath a thick fringe of lashes. The Tauran’s once proud form was shaking, trembling as I drew closer. In a word, he looked horrible.
“Peacock.” I gave a small nod, wondering at his peculiar behavior. “Is Kvigor not, ah, home right now?”
Steam wafted through thick nostrils, purple eyes flushing briefly with red as they lightened to magenta. “There is no Kvigor,” the fae gritted out between clenched teeth. His jaw worked, the skin bunching as his muscles spasmed.
“In that case,” my lips tipped up at the corners, “evening, lover. How’s your friend? Good? Well fed?” My eyes lit up as my gaze grazed the bottom of his kilt.
“Think you funny?” Thick fingers reaching for the bars, they gripped them, flexed. The sound of skin sizzling churned my belly, the smell making me nauseous. Head cocking, he gave a sniff. “Don’t pretend with me, Chosen,” he spat the title like it left a bad taste in his mouth, “you can’t trick the trickster.”
“You’re right about that,” I said carefully, “you win.” My hand lifted in a lazy gesture. “I concede.” My gaze slid towards his groin, staying longer than necessary, and I sighed. “Did. Did concede. But I can’t say much about this chosen business.”
At his questioning look I shrugged. “It would appear your king is as fickle as his wife and her favored. Gave me these,” lowering my hood, I shook my head, pointing to my horns, which were starting to come in just enough to form tiny little curved points, “then left me for dead.”
Puck eyed me, sniffing as if he could smell the lie. “Rubbish.”
“Is it, though?” My gaze was steady, unwavering.
“That why you’ve come? Hedge your bets with the underdog? Come out on top, you’re thinkin’? Fuck the Puck.” Stepping back with a chuff, he crossed his thick arms over his massive chest. For all the world he looked an oversized child giving in to a good pout.
Stepping up to the bars, my fingers wrapped around them, right over where his had been. The smell of burnt flesh was gag-inducing, forcing me to breathe through my mouth, the pain equally as maddening. It took everything in me not to go running and screaming back inside.
My face pressed closer, until either side of it almost rested on them. The bars were sizzling, bubbling the skin of my fingers. Sighing heavily, I closed my eyes. “I tire of all this.”
“Tired of my bastard brother?” he hissed out, which had my eyes popping open. “Think to trade the sod in for the newer model?”
“Your brother?” My tone conveyed my confusion better than the blank look on my face.
What in the... Puck was clearly in residence, running the show, which frightened me beyond anything, so then why would he refer to Adelric as...
“What?” Puck barked. He was starting to look as befuddled as I felt.
Thinking on this, I stood there studying the male. Cocking my head, I clucked my tongue. “Who is better, do you think? Adelric, Kvigor, or you?”
“Ridiculous question. You already know it’s me, I-” He stopped suddenly, grunting, reaching up to scrub at his eyes. Was he just recalling he’d been too busy torturing me to try and fuck Oberon’s Chosen?
Creature and man were both tired, worn so thin they looked like they might snap and break at any moment.
Perfect.
“Ekodar is ruining all of your carefully laid plans, you know.” The ones he wasn’t mucking up himself. “There’s talk he’s senile, possessed by some kind of powerful, dark demon, even. He’s begun talking to the light bugs at night.”
Lies. All of it. I knew next to nothing.
“Ekodar is senile. An old fool.” The purple-eyed creature snorted. “You think that not all a part of the whole? My dear, who do you think they’ll help come into power when the mighty chief is dethroned?”
“Not you,” I mused, giving the great creature a long once over. “You’ve been gone all this time, have you not? Chasing your own tail, if you aren’t stalking mine,” I gave a wink, “correct?” Pushing off the gate to walk directly towards the middle, the double gates’ handles right there before me, I rested my hands on one and leaned in. The action pushed my breasts out, the material of my gown pulling tight. “Know what I think?” My smile was a challenge. Like a worm dangling from a hook, the Trickster took the bait.
“What?” His eyes strayed from my face to my breasts, where they stayed, his eyes starting to get a glazed look about them.
“I think if you don’t get a hold of yourself and your new body, the same kind of talk is going to be making the rounds about you.”
“So,” he shrugged, shifting uncomfortably as the front of his kilt grew a pronounced bulge, “I’ll just get rid of them, maim them and send them scrambling for temple.”
“Not like that, I hope,” I goaded.
“Like I’d be fool enough to show myself like this,” he muttered, gesturing at his person, “to anyone.”
“You’re showing yourself to me,” I countered.
“You don’t count,” he hissed, baring his teeth.
“What have you been doing, then?” I asked, as if he hadn’t just implied I was nothing. “Communing with nature?” Eyebrows raising, I made a point of looking around, though I was only half taunting. What had he been doing? Hopping from local tavern heap to heap? Had he been... bedding other women?
Bright eyes narrowed and he scowled. “Never you mind. Mind your business.”
“Right.” And like that, plans forgotten, I shut down. It hurt. I hated to admit it, but the idea Kvigor, or I should say his inhabited body, gallivanting around doing gods knows what with gods knew who felt like he’d just shoved a dagger into my chest. “Night, then. Lovely chat.”
Flapping my hood out, I pulled it over my head, shielding my eyes. They were glowing bright gold, what little bit of green they had left in them eclipsed in honeyed liquid, everything brighter, clearer. Like I’d give that thing the satisfaction of-
“Wait. Where do you think you’re going?” he barked out abruptly.
Surprised, I gave a half turn. “Inside, where it’s warm, and I’m mostly wanted.”
Purple eyes shot to the entrance. “I didn’t say you could go.”
A shocked laugh left my lips. “I’m not part of your silly fae games anymore, boyo. Remember? Dismissed by your mighty warrior king. He, like you did the Taurans, abandoned me. He’s no better than you now, I suppose. Do you think your queen will take you under her wing now, when she has her very own deceitful king to play with? What use is the court joke now?”
Steam filled the air, his skin flushing beneath his fur. “I am nothing like him! Nothing!” he shouted belligerently, rushing the bars to smack them
with the palms of his hands. “Come back here and say that to my face!”
“Fine!” Marching back, I grabbed the gate, yanking it open, toeing the line that separated the King’s barrier from the snarling fae. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re just an angry little boy in a man’s body who’s lost his favorite toy, angry that nobody’s ever loved him, so you’re going to stomp and pout, scream and shout, making everyone and everything else miserable, destroying anything in your path on your quest to do so, because that’s all you’re good at. And you know what?! Congratulations! Everyone is fucking miserable! You know what I think your real issue is? Huh? You don’t hate me because I’m some special Chosen, you hate me because they,” I reached up to give him a poke, “picked,” poke, “me. Not just your precious bitch queen, but he chose me too! And you can’t handle it!”
Puck flinched as I spoke but otherwise didn’t react, watching me with an unreadable expression. Gone was the cocky confidence of our first encounters, a weary, wariness about him that had me hopeful Kvigor was shambling around in there, giving that body stealing despicable arsehole what for.
When I’d finished, glaring up at him, daring him to say one fucking word, his jaw worked, arms folded once more over his chest, and his nostrils steamed.
As we stood there, though, his steam slowly started to dissipate, and he grunted, mouth flat, snapping out, “I don’t know whether to strangle you or fuck you. Do you know how much frustration you’ve wrought?” His hands lifted, palms out, burn marks from the bars bubbling up his skin, and he shook them at me. “This piss poor excuse for a male, do you have any idea what it’s like trying to share space with the boorish beast?!” Gripping the fur on his chest, he snarled, slapping his hands to his stomach to glower at me. “He doesn’t eat, won’t sleep, refuses to even look at another female! And when I try to take care of my needs, the fucker’s body locks up, the limp dicked layabout! It’s you, you, you,” he spat. “Addie-mine, Addie-mine!” he mock-whined. “Oh, my Addie-mine! Oh! Ohhh, piss off! You aren’t worth the bloody headache!”
Go, baby, go. Fight for your body.
“Hmm, strange, thought there was just you in there. Is that not what you just said?”
Purple eyes narrowed. “I see what you’re doing. You’re fishing. Think you’ll find out a way to release your precious pair bond? Well, think again. He accepted me, I want this body, and I’m keepin’ it. One way,” he murmured darkly, “or another.”
When I said nothing, he smiled an ugly smile. Now that, that was the Puck I’d been introduced to warming up.
“I guess we’ve nothing to discuss then, seeing as that’s settled and I’m stuck up a creek. Good morrow to you, Peacock,” I said finally, resignedly, turning swiftly in a swirl of fur and cape. I got two steps before he started snarling.
Two more measured steps.
“Damn you! Wait.”
Smothering the grin on my face, blanking my expression, I turned. “Hmm?”
“You’re forgetting something,” he muttered, though he looked loathe to admit it.
This was surprising, a new turn. “I am?” I blinked slowly.
“A kiss,” he spat the words, “you treacherous creature. You owe me at least that.”
Ah, but he didn’t mean a kiss-kiss, he meant- “I’m not sucking your cock simply because you demand it.”
“Had no problem sucking me off before, harlot.” Messing with the leather at his waist, his kilt loosened, dropping to his big, booted feet. He was hard, painfully looking so, his fat cock straining, sticking straight out, pointing right at me.
“How sweet,” I cooed, bending, hands to my knees, to admire his piece. Glancing up, my mouth pulled into a smirk. “Does it wave?”
The fat knob on a rod jerked, jumping, as if excited at being called upon. Well, I had asked...
And, admittedly, just the sight of my familiar old friend had my cleft aching, mouth watering. I’d always want Kvigor. He was the match I’d always thought I’d wanted—pre handing me over to the village—would probably never have again.
“Fun,” I complimented, “but I really must be going.”
“Waitttt.” His hissing words were growing more and more pronounced with his ire. Our eyes met and he gestured to his meat, gripping it and holding it up as if in offering.
Honestly... males!
Was I to believe the notorious Puck was actually desperate for me?
Hmmm. “Why me? Surely there are plenty of others willing to-”
“Daft woman! He only wants you,” he raged, glaring down at his cock in consternation. “Within ten feet of you and it begins to swell, try to fuck some whore at a tavern, shrivels like it’s trying to escape inside me. Jerk it off? No, limp as a wrung chicken. Got a grip on me, it has. This body, it’s- It’s-” His hands shot up and he pointed at me accusingly. “This,” index finger jerking towards his cock, “is all your fault.”
“My fault?” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yesss. Your fault. And you will be fixing it, if I have to fuck you within an inch of our lives to get you out of our system.”
He, our, we? Oh, Kvigor, fight him! Come back!
“And you think a kiss is the start?”
“No,” he growled out, “but it’ll fix this nagging beast long enough for me to think!”
And I should help him, why, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask.
Thinking of our shouting match earlier, everything slowly clicked into place. “I’ll help you, but you have to help me.”
He grunted, folding his thick arms, presumably so they blocked his sight of that engorged friend of his he seemed to be having a spat with. “I am Puck! Puck!” he grumbled under his breath, his voice so low I assumed he thought I couldn’t hear.
I heard every word.
“And I’m brought to shame by a wayward cock in the bull headed but idiotic second born,” he continued in his whispered mutterings. “Being bested by a dick.”
“I won’t be allowing your lover to have a dance in my body,” I began, setting the conditions before I allowed this to go any farther.
“Doesn’t matter,” Puck scoffed, “Bitch queen left me for court. It was her idea, you know,” he began to rant, halting abruptly when my hand shot up and I shook my head.
I didn’t know, didn’t want to. “Then they’ve both left. Is abandoning fae a characteristic? A flaw in your kind?”
“I left them for her,” he ground out. “I’d have done anything to go back to that wretched, fickle-.”
Another contradiction, if memory served, recalling his declarations on the matter by the whipping trees.
And maybe that’s why Oberon never thought much of him. The King and Queen obviously had a rough relationship, love bordering on hate, infidelity, back stabbing, all those lies... he could no more trust the dual natured fool, the court trickster, than he could his wife. One snake at court was bad enough, let alone being tied to the being forever after, but two!
“That must’ve been hard.”
Purple eyes flashed. “Don’t pretend to care. Don’t you dare feel sorry for me! I loathe your very presence, cock whisperer. Viper. All females are treacherous. All of them.”
“Shouldn’t be trusted,” I added with a pious air, because I knew it would irritate him.
His hiss had me holding back a laugh.
Beneath all that buffoonery was a wealth of pain and hurt, much as I’d accused him of. The more I got to know this being of magicks, mist, and mayhem, the more transparent the male became.
“My bargain,” I cut to the chase, “call off Kvigor’s intended nuptials.”
When our combined gazes slid to his raging erection, I clucked my tongue. “Good point. Already pointless. Marry a strange chit. Her denouncing will be cause for celebration. No use with this limp noodle to tote around. Be the laughing stock of the village.”
“Then you will come when this body beckons, serve me well,” he countered.
True... what was the
point of bargaining something that couldn’t come to fruition anyway? “New deal. Vachel’s betrothal to Kerberos, you will call it off for... lip service.”
His snort was loud, the sound laced with condescension. “And I’d have to leave this body to do it. Nice try, Chosen. Next.”
“I’m not the chosen anymore,” I snapped back, making the Trickster pause at my sudden ire. “Kvigor can’t?”
“Kvigor is not yet chief,” he grumbled, “not until the old fart slobbering on his throne kicks it.” More referencing his self in the third person, as if he were two entities in one. “In his addled state, I’d have thought someone would have disposed of the doddering derelict by now. Shit, sleep, drink, shoves his dirty, crooked wank into anything with a pulse, ugly, old, poxed, or indifferent. If he doesn’t choke on his own vomit in a stupor or stumble off a cliff the clap will get him.”
Sounded like Suzaela had gotten out just in the nick of time.
“Protection, then, from Ekodar and yourself, should you- when you take the throne.”
“Protection?”
“You can’t touch me, I touch you, that’s the way of it or we call it off.”
“I already can’t touch you,” he murmured dryly. “Or have we forgotten?”
“They’ve abandoned us,” I reminded, “does that not change the rules?”
“No,” he snorted, “the Queen granted her consort power. Oberon’s word goes beyond even that of Titania’s now. It’s binding.” He looked so put out at the idea. “I like to cause problems, not perish painfully as a result. You humans really have no notion of the Unseelie.” He gave a sniff. “Humans and your silly notions or lack thereof, you truly are a disappointment. A poor excuse for a way to soothe an unfruitful womb.”
“Titania is barren?” I blurted, gaping.
Puck grunted. “Suppose I shouldn’t have revealed that but, eh, what’s it to me now? Fae cannot mate with fae.”
“What about when you go back to court?”
His pointed look, his hands flexing in Kvigor’s body, were answer enough, but he announced grandly, “Decided I won’t be. Ever. Here’s as good a place as any, and if we’re to be bargaining, best mention you won’t be dying by my summons, ever. Might as well get a babe or two off of you.” His smile could curdle milk in my bull man’s face. “I’ll be needing spares when this one ages.”
By the Horns Page 42
