Bhyr

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Bhyr Page 40

by Penelope Fletcher


  ‘No,’ he interrupted, curt. ‘You do not know. I am not worried. I am terrified. I want to rage and destroy everything in my path. I want to flee this place with you in my arms. I want to hide you deep in my nest while I guard the entrance.’ He could do none of those things. His brothers counted on him to keep a level head and lead them to victory. Only now they were gone, did he feel free to release the strict hold he’d kept on his emotions. He held Indira close, his throat feeling rough, his chest aching. ‘I cannot lose you.’

  ‘I’m here,’ she said fiercely.

  ‘The L’Odo are dead.’

  She stilled. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled. ‘Yes. I overhead Ohx and Bihter talking about it. I’m so sorry, Bhyr.’ Her arms squeezed. ‘I know they meant a lot to you.’

  ‘That alone proves I am fallible. Now this. An attack on you in my camp. In the place we lay our head….’ He hunched and shuddered. ‘Tomorrow, I will send Vyper and Drayg with you into the mountains.’ Arj Vyper may have conservative views, but he’d proven himself dependable and quick thinking. ‘They will take you somewhere hidden. Somewhere safe.’

  ‘Not this again. I’m not going.’ She pushed him back and crossed her arms. ‘I’m staying right here with you. End of discussion, Bhyr.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘Indira, be reasonable. You cannot join me on the battlefield. There will be fighting. Death.’ His eyes opened. ‘There is a real chance I may perish.’

  ‘Don’t.’ Losing colour and shaking, she spun away. ‘Please don’t.’

  ‘This is a reality you must face.’ He gripped her shoulders. ‘Tomorrow, you will go.’

  Her neck twisted. ‘I can’t leave you. Everything inside me revolts against even the idea of it. It makes me feel sick.’ She turned, expression resolute. ‘If you stay, I stay.’

  Anger chased by fear exploded through him. He let her go, because his frustration got the better of him, and he’d rather die than hurt her.

  Auroras wreathed his fists.

  Indira stilled, recognising the danger posed by a deadlier predator. ‘Bhyr?’

  He exhaled, regaining control. At the wary expression on her face, he lifted both hands in surrender. He regretted the lapse. He never wanted her to be afraid of him. Not again. He held out his hand. Slender bolts darted from finger to finger and wrapped around his wrist.

  ‘Touch me,’ he invited.

  She extended a hand but paused, her finger hovering over his palm. ‘Will it hurt?’

  ‘Trust me.’

  Holding his gaze, she touched the tip of her forefinger to the calloused pad below his middle digit.

  A zing raced up her arm. She jumped. ‘Oh.’

  Bhyr’s hand closed around hers. The connection lifted the fine hairs on her arms. ‘Good?’

  ‘Wonderful. This is your Gift? How does it work?’

  ‘Our bodies use electrical signals to function.’

  ‘I know.’ Her face creased in thought. ‘Brain waves. Synapses. Ions.’

  ‘Yes. I can direct this energy in my body and in the cells of others. I hijack the signals. By forcing my own energy into the body of another, I can cause excruciating pain.’ He tugged her closer. ‘I suspect I can also cause pleasure, though I have never had reason to.’

  Her lips curved. Her eyes sparkled. ‘Is that right?’

  He crowded her towards the central pole stabilising the shelter, a rough clicking growl vibrating his chest. ‘Let me?’

  He cupped her sex.

  Lifting her arms over her head, she arched her back, offering herself. ‘I’m all yours.’

  Gaze burning like white hot coals, Bhyr dragged up her tunic. He tucked it into her belt.

  Her eyes flashed when cool air brushed her nether lips, already damp with arousal.

  His nose slits flared.

  Bhyr licked his lips, then ran his tongue over his teeth.

  Indira made a small noise, abdomen rippling in encouragement. ‘I’m waiting.’

  ‘Greedy female.’ His finger claws trailed over her inner thigh and sparks of his power washed her skin with goose pimples. Exhaling in a rush, Indira’s head dropped forward to watch the muscles in his forearm flex. She whimpered as he drew closer to her sex, squirming in anticipation.

  Bhyr dipped finger into the scorching well between her legs, and it sucked him in.

  She moaned, the fizzing sensation of his electrified flesh caressing hers making her knees tremble.

  ‘Look at me,’ he rumbled.

  She let her head rock back, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and blurred.

  His gaze was wild. ‘I am going to take you. You will feel me inside you for days.’ He amplified the voltage over the soft spot behind her stiffened bud, and she squealed, legs buckling. Bhyr swept his beloved into his arms and planted her against the wooden pole. Indira slung her legs around his waist a moment before he lined her over his shaft and plunged inside.

  She came alive, shrieking.

  His hand groped her breast, the claw of his middle finger grazing her hard nipple and shocking it with pulses that were echoed in her strangling channel. She bucked. His other hand cradled her jaw, fingers splayed. His thumb pushed into her mouth and she sucked.

  Unable to stand the pleasure-pain in his daulm for another moment, Bhyr leaned forward to fuse their mouths together. His hips swung like a pendulum, an undeniable, unstoppable force that sent her sex into paroxysms and made him snarl. The hand on her breast moved to grip her rump.

  He shoved her down each time he hammered upward. His claw tip brushed her anus, and she gasped, clutching at his shoulders and humping herself onto his shaft.

  Diverted by the intense reaction, Bhyr applied pressure to the furled hole.

  She clenched, body quivering. ‘Again. Please.’

  ‘This excites you.’ His voice was wrecked, gravel and crushed ice. ‘If I push inside?’

  His finger slid back far enough to coat it in her fluids before circling her rim and delving inside. It was hot. Different. Very tight. He could feel his shaft moving through the thin membrane and it made his head swim, his tongue throb. Bhyr thrust his finger in time to his hips.

  Indira growled. ‘Yes.’

  His body turned to stone. ‘You want me up there?’

  She nodded and shoved an arm between them to stroke her stiffened bud. ‘Fuck my ass and make me come, Bhyr.’

  He slipped from inside her and lined the bulging head of his daulm with the small orifice. ‘I am too big.’

  She laughed. ‘Go slow.’ Her free hand cupped his face, thumb tracing his lips. ‘You’ll know if you hurt me.’

  He pushed.

  The ring of muscles remained closed, rigid, and then gave.

  He shivered when the smooth channel sucked him deeper and strangled the flesh at its entrance.

  Indira breathed in shallow pulls. The gem in her nose twinkled. ‘Keep going.’

  ‘It is pushing at me.’

  ‘That’s me helping you along. Keep going.’

  It was maddening.

  They paused for Indira to lick and suck on his tongue. She rubbed her bud until she forced herself to stop.

  When he could go no further, hips canted under, shoulders shaking from the strain of holding back, Bhyr met Indira’s gaze. The black holes in her eyes were massive, leaving a halo of golden brown. Her lip was bloody from her teeth and her expression warped and twisted as she adjusted to his shaft stuffing her full.

  Pulling back, he thrust, and Indira shivered.

  Pressure built behind his eyes. Gathered at the base of his spine. Rolled up his shaft to the aching tip of his barb.

  Bhyr grunted with each pump, his mouth bruising hers, his tongue mimicking the pounding motion below.

  The pleasure exploded. He spurted. Indira bit down on his lip and screamed, sheathe clamping down and rippling hard. Hammering through the locked muscles, Bhyr seated himself as deep as he could and roared, blasting her with his prime seed and squeezing her rump so hard, he feared
it would numb.

  He sank to his knees, Indira’s shaking legs splayed over his thighs, torso draped over his.

  She panted. Huffed. ‘Fine.’ She swallowed to moisten her mouth. ‘I’ll go, but don’t make a habit of this. Sex is not for getting your own way.’ She paused. Grumbled, ‘It’s effective, I’ll give you that.’

  He chuckled, pressed a kiss to her hair. ‘Do you promise?’

  She sighed. ‘Promise.’

  They warmed water on the hot rocks then bathed each other. Indira squealed and wriggled when he scrubbed areas of her body she said were ticklish. He hunted after them with feral delight, laughing at her pitched cries for mercy.

  There was a moment when she gazed up at him, hands to his chest, while he hugged her middle. Her eyes brimmed with an emotion he failed to name.

  His head cocked.

  On a quick intake of breath, she opened her mouth to speak. Hesitated. Her eyes clouded over. Mouth closing, she shrugged, then kissed his chin. ‘No more tickling.’

  The strange moment passed. While Bhyr felt it was important, he set it aside.

  Sitting crossed-legged on the mound of furs as she braided her hair for sleep, Indira watched him prepare his personal store of waede.

  ‘Need help?’ she asked.

  Bhyr waved her forward. ‘Watch if it pleases you.’

  She crawled closer then stuck her nose almost into the bowl. She hummed. ‘The colours are so vivid.’

  ‘The plants come from the highest steppes. Once they were foraged for by our adolescents. Now it is adult males who fulfil the duty. The buds are picked during the warm season, dried in shade, ground by hand, and then sieved. They are pounded once more, then sifted into the fine powder you see here.’

  She sat back. ‘Is that water you’re mixing it with?’

  ‘Yes. Hot water to help the pigment dissolve. It is left overnight to cool and thicken. After the council reviews the reports from the scouts tomorrow, I will invoke a blessing from the gods.’ Bhyr felt a welling of hope. ‘It will be the first to include Creation since the Horde was founded.’ He stirred the indigo concoction with his fingers. ‘When I am ready to use the waede it will be tacky. The glyphs will have greater definition this way.’

  She studied the bowls. ‘It’s like henna, only rather than for weddings and celebration, you’re using it for war.’

  ‘It is similar to your people.’ He touched the back of her hand. ‘I remember the marks. It made me wary of you.’

  He now realised it had also attracted him on a subconscious level. He’d been too blind to see he wanted not an empty-headed vessel, but a partner.

  He’d wanted a mate.

  ‘The meaning behind your waede is closer to the ancient Pictish cultures than mine. They called them painted warriors. They tattooed themselves to look fierce. Even the Roman invaders, soldiers of a superior war machine, failed to conquer the Picts. They were so afraid of them, they built a wall to keep them penned in their “barbaric” lands. Inspirational, right?’

  He grunted, focused.

  Shoving the bowls aside, Indira wiped off his hands.

  ‘I am not finished.’

  ‘Yes, you are.’ She straddled his lap. Her nose nuzzled him, and he saw the gem decorating it glint out the corner of his eye. ‘Put your hands on me, Bhyr. Make me feel better, because I’m afraid.’ She kissed him, deep and drugging. ‘Please? I’m begging here.’

  With a rough noise of assent, he let his female have her way and thrust his fingers into her hair to hold her.

  Satiated and snoozing, they snuggled in the nest of furs, their limbs entwined.

  Rustling yanked Bhyr into full wakefulness. The night grew unnaturally silent. He peered into the darkness, hand sliding towards the blade he’d left within reach.

  Figures darted into the shelter and surrounded them.

  He coiled to attack.

  ‘First,’ Bihter breathed. ‘Wake. They have come.’

  Indira lay rigid at his side.

  Feeling him relax, her muscles loosened. Her time in the wild had sharpened her instincts. She had sensed his alarm and readied herself to act.

  He noted the antler knife clutched in her fist.

  My courageous female.

  ‘Rise, my mate.’ He stroked her back. ‘It is time.’

  ‘Bhyr, I don’t think I can do this.’ Her breathing accelerated. ‘I’m sorry. We should go.’ Her hands clamped on his shoulders. ‘Just fucking leave. Who’d blame us? No one.’

  Heart in his throat, he sat them upright. He knelt before her to hold her face. It was wet. ‘Hush.’ His gut tightened, a moment of weakness threatening to overwhelm his better judgement. He did not want to leave her but he must.

  ‘You promised,’ he said in a voice barely audible. ‘I cannot do this with you here.’

  Trembles shook her limbs. She looked feral, her hair knotted, eyes wild and bright, but beautiful. Always beautiful. ‘Fine.’ She slid her arms up his shoulders and cupped the sides of his neck. ‘Just don’t die on me.’

  His thumbs stroked her jaw. ‘You can trust me. I will survive. I will find you.’

  ‘Yes, you will.’

  ‘I am sorry.’

  She scowled. ‘For?’

  ‘I am sorry for stealing you from your home and bringing you here. I am sorry for the pain and suffering.’ If the worst should happen, she now knew of his regret.

  She smiled through her tears. ‘I thought the First of the Horde didn’t apologise?’

  ‘He does not. Bhyr, mate of Indira, does.’ Wrapping her tight in his arms, he curled over to press his forehead to hers. ‘Behave.’

  She choked a laugh, nodding her head. ‘Be safe.’

  He stood and faced Bihter. ‘I need you to stay with her. I trust Drayg and Vyper as her guard, but I need you to stay.’

  Eyes a dull gleam in the dark, the male clenched his jaw. He nodded once. ‘Go.’

  Bhyr left his heart behind.

  He was aware of Grhym and Ohx flanking him. His surroundings were too bright and sharp, too high in contrast. His breath came easy but his heart thundered like a drum.

  Grhym told him the status of his army. Ohx handed him his spear. Indira called it a parashu. To him it was called Death. It hung heavy in his hand. He gripped the weapon, adjusting his hold until it was secure. He peered across the shadowy landscape to the clash of silhouettes moving below the horizon. A bittersweet taste soured his mouth. They were his people, his brothers.

  My Horde.

  As he took his first step, his mind summoned a memory of Indira lying atop him in the sun, her hair flying. Her eyes smiled. With a bellow of fury that cut through the screams of battle, the Avatar of Destruction raised his hand.

  46

  Indira

  Don’t die, don’t die.

  I chanted under my breath, eyes on the ground as I tried to marshal my legion of fears.

  Drayg squeezed my shoulder. His hand retreated when Bihter gave him a pointed look. My person was off limits to any but Bhyr in his eyes.

  The warmth of Drayg’s concern lingered, giving the comfort intended.

  It lasted until the crash of blades rang through the air and a thunderous roar of voices rose in a wall of noise. The fight had turned from an incursion into a pitched battle.

  ‘This is torture.’ Vyper paced the lavvu. ‘We should be out there with him.’

  ‘Our duty is here.’ Bihter glanced at me. ‘We protect what matters most.’

  ‘Of course. The breeder must be protected, but if we fail to win this skirmish how can we expect to win the war?’

  ‘We will prevail.’ Bihter speared the male with a glare, his fists propped on his knees. ‘This attack proves Sah Rahm is not fit to be First. Our losses tonight will sting, but his cowardice will return the Undecided to the First’s side. With two thirds of the Horde under his command, Bhyr will end this conflict.’

  Drayg exhaled. ‘Then our mates may come home.’

  Bihter n
odded. ‘Yes.’

  I rubbed my forehead, the stress giving me a headache.

  ‘Do not fret, female.’ Vyper paused his agitated pacing. ‘Destruction’s Avatar will not die easily.’

  Blowing out a breath, I raked the fingers massaging my brow through my hair. ‘Thank you. I know. I can’t help but think the worst.’

  The conversation died, and we waited in silence and darkness. It had been less than an hour since the stealth attack had been thwarted. It felt like decades. I fidgeted. I alternated between listening for a hint of Bhyr’s strident timbre over the noise and tuning everything out, so I could breathe. We waited for the pathways to clear, planning to sneak into the surrounding hills, but twice the scuff of footsteps surrounded the lavvu. The first time, we’d stilled, watching as Hel Bihter had risen to his feet, lean body corded with tension. After a pause, he’d sank back down, signalling to the warriors who flanked me to relax, satisfied the danger of discovery had passed. The second time occurred because Vyper paced too close to the hot rock pit and stumbled over the sandy mound, disturbing the pile. He barked a curse, hopping through the stones.

  Drayg darted forward.

  ‘The light.’ He knelt to scoop a handful of the grit piled next to the pit. He tossed it over the glow to dim it. He repeated the action until the light was concealed. Brushing off his palms, he turned toward Arj Vyper. ‘Fool. You will lead them straight to us.’

  ‘I beg forgiveness.’ Vyper appeared irritated by his clumsiness. ‘I am restless.’

  Unimpressed, Bihter shook his head, his attention focused on discerning if trouble headed our way.

  ‘I respect the First, but in this, he is blind. Three of us here is a waste. Our brothers may be dying as I speak. Two of us should join the defence.’ He faced Drayg. ‘Your Gift of illusion is a powerful weapon.’ He turned to Bihter, expression pleading. ‘Your Gift and grasp of strategy is renown. I am unranked and best suited to guard duty. Go. Fight. Earn your glory.’ Vyper spread his legs and lifted his chest. ‘I will stay and protect the female.’

 

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