Love Me Wild

by Renee Field

  “Daughter, I have brought you a gift,” said Lady MacQuellion to a young woman huddled next to a large stone hearth.

  Beside the stone hearth, centered in the middle of the hut, were pallets and on top of them animal furs.

  “I don’t want him. I want the stallion,” muttered the strange woman, who hadn’t bothered to acknowledge their presence.

  “I told you before there is no stallion. There never was. But my dear, the man is well…”

  “Well what, Mother?” asked the young woman, turning angry green eyes at her mother when she finally looked at Rowena and Tulon.

  “He is well equipped to deal with your needs.”

  “I highly doubt that,” she mumbled, slowly standing up from the hearth.

  The young woman walked forward. Her only covering was a black bear fur draped across her body that she clutched with one hand. Rowena highly doubted she wore clothing underneath it.

  Then it dawned on Rowena what was happening. Tulon was about to become a sacrifice. If the legends were true, and so far they appeared to be, this woman needed to mate with Tulon to produce a male heir, who would then be handed over to the Tree Wraiths. Once he rutted with this woman, his blood would then be spilled and sprinkled over the forest floor as an offering to the Forest Saints.

  Rowena tried to warn Tulon, but she was silenced by a cold look from Lady MacQuellion.

  In eerie fascination, she watched as the young lady grasped Tulon’s shaft. Within a second, it grew to life. Rowena narrowed her eyes in frustration, hating that he had responded to this unknown woman’s touch. Shocked, she watched as the woman stroked it, causing it to thicken. Tulon bounced on the balls of his feet and she knew he was trying hard to stifle the desire, but it wasn’t doing any good.

  “So, daughter, will he do?” asked Lady MacQuellion.

  “Nicely,” answered the young woman, wetting her lips and never once taking her eyes off Tulon’s large shaft.

  If anything had been within reach, Rowena knew she wouldn’t have hesitated to smash it over the young woman who was salivating on the spot. Jealousy pooled thick and dark inside her. Why isn’t Tulon doing something to stop her?

  Maybe if she had something to use as a club, she’d bash Tulon’s head in. She bit the inside of her mouth when the woman knelt down beside Tulon and took his engorged cock into her small, inviting mouth.

  By the Saints, he’d gone to heaven and it was pure bliss. As much as he was enjoying the young woman’s attention to his cock, Tulon wasn’t stupid. Something wasn’t entirely right with the picture. As much as the creature he was told him to shut up and simply enjoy the pleasure while it lasted, he couldn’t. Plus, he knew Rowena was fuming. That he found highly amusing.

  “While she’s got my cock in her mouth, do you mind telling me what’s going on?” asked Tulon, amazed he sounded pissed off while the young woman’s tongue slipped expertly over all of his shaft’s sensitive ridges.

  “My daughter needs to mate and she’s quite particular. She has chosen you,” answered Lady MacQuellion, ushering the remaining guards out of the hut.

  “Ahh, yes…but as much as I’d like to comply, we don’t plan on staying,” stated Tulon, forcing the young woman’s head to move off his rigid cock. He was enjoying it too much. What he wanted was reasoning.

  “That’s right, we’re not staying,” said Rowena, attempting to back him up.

  He could have smiled at that but didn’t dare.

  “She only needs you for one night. After that, you may leave,” said Lady MacQuellion.

  “And just who is she?” asked Tulon, hating that he didn’t even know the name of the young woman who was obviously well versed in the art of pleasing a male.

  “This is my daughter, Felicia. She is at her peak—”

  “Mother!” admonished Felicia, quickly standing. With that one movement, the fur covering fell to the floor.

  Tulon sucked in his breath. She was half-fawn. She was a Betikhan. Distant cousin to Centaurs. Her head was human, but the rest of her from her shoulders down was fawn. With the fur covering most of her body, he hadn’t noticed that her two legs had deer hooves instead of feet or women’s legs. He knew from Rowena’s indrawn breath she was shocked. And worse, probably mortified.

  “What are you?” asked Rowena.

  “She is a Betikhan,” answered Tulon, reaching down to grab the fur covering. Gently, he draped it around the young woman, whose blush of embarrassment colored her pale facial features.

  “You know what she is?” asked Lady MacQuellion, clearly impressed.

  “Yes, I do…but she’s not your real daughter,” stated Tulon.

  “No, sadly I could have no daughters. I found her ten cycles ago and claimed her as my own. As of late, though, she’s changed. She’s grown wilder—”

  “Mother, please—”

  “Hush, child, if you want this man to help—”

  “I don’t. What I want is the stallion,” she stated, turning her back to them once again to sit by the hearth.

  “What stallion is she talking about?” asked Rowena.

  “Two years ago, Felicia saw a stallion running wild through these woods. It was the first time she saw a four-legged. Ever since then, we’ve been hunting for it. She seems to think that the stallion might be able to help her find others of her kind. I am not so sure,” sighed Lady MacQuellion.

  “To be honest, she’s not been herself of late. She is crazed with mating. She has mated with almost all of my Tree Wraiths. Don’t look so shocked, she is a creature of the wild with magic running in her veins. I have only been trying to help,” admonished Lady MacQuellion, moving to a large barrel that housed fresh water.

  Tulon watched as she dished out a bowl of fresh water for them.

  He was shocked. This creature had spied him two years ago when he had run wild through the woods. He tried recalling seeing her. He couldn’t. She must have been well concealed. He hadn’t even sensed another magical being. Then again, he’d had other things on his mind—namely, food.

  “I don’t follow this. What does mating have to do with helping her?” asked Rowena, interrupting Tulon’s wild thoughts as she took the bowl of water from Lady MacQuellion.

  “She’s like you, Rowena. A Betikhan must mate or die. That is their existence. Like you, she is cursed,” answered Tulon, turning to look Rowena in the eye.

  “I believe you are right. Felicia is now aging at an accelerated rate. After she mates with one of my Tree Wraiths, her aging slows down, but it’s only a temporary fix. She needs one of her kind. Unfortunately I found her far on the other side of the forest and when I went back to search for her kind, I found none. Will you help her?” asked Lady MacQuellion.

  Tulon nodded. He’d help her, but not the way Lady MacQuellion was thinking.

  “You brute. You big, disgusting, boorish man. I hate you,” screeched Rowena, throwing her bowl of water in his face.

  Tulon shook his head. What did I do now? Women, they mystified him. This one irritated him like a blister under his hooves.

  “I said I’d help, but I will not rut with her,” he said, speaking to Lady MacQuellion, while ignoring the fuming woman at his side.

  Lady MacQuellion moved to her daughter’s side by the hearth. “What do you have in mind?”

  “She can travel with us through the forest. I know where her kin live,” he said. Tulon hoped that the Betikhan were still there. He had come across their summer village as he wandered through the Dark Forest. They were nomadic and never stayed too long in one place.

  He watched Felicia stand, making sure to gather as much of the fur covering as she could close to her skin. Then Tulon knew without a doubt he had to get her to her kin. She was embarrassed at what she was. That was a true shame.

  “You will take me with you. You will find my kin,” said Felicia.

  Tulon noted it was a statement, not a question. The oddity of that struck Tulon’s heart. He knew she, like Rowena, cursed her femininity. They
were both plagued with the itch for sex. He could have laughed at his own predicament, but his cock still throbbed from the young Betikhan’s skillful tongue.

  “How old are you?” he asked, needing to learn more about the creature he had willingly agreed to help.

  “I judge her to be about eighteen cycles,” answered Lady MacQuellion, providing a wooden bowl filled with cool water for her daughter.

  Tulon all but growled in frustration. Now more than ever he knew he could never sexually fulfill her. She needed a powerful Mage Betikhan, a male in his prime who could seep his magic into her—bonding them for eternity. Without a Mage mate, she would die. No amount of rutting on his part would cure her.

  “I will provide two of my best Tree Wraiths to guide you,” said Lady MacQuellion, moving to the hut’s door.

  “Thank you, but that will not be necessary,” answered Tulon.

  “Actually, I think that’s a great idea,” replied Rowena, moving away from Tulon.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. “No, it is not!” He growled the words seductively low for her ears only, hoping the young Betikhan wouldn’t pay any attention to the command in his voice.

  “Why not?” she mouthed.

  “Because he knows I will mate with them and he knows that’s not a good idea,” answered Felicia, taking a sip from the bowl.

  “How so?”

  “It’s simple,” answered Tulon. “Once she mates with a creature other than a Mage Betikhan, they die.”

  “You mean to say that if you had agreed to her request, you’d be dead?” Rowena’s eyes grew large with fear.

  Tulon nodded.

  “And you knew that from the get-go, didn’t you?” she stated, giving his shoulder a good solid punch. Her anger caused her almost naked skin to turn a delicious shade of cinnamon pink. His instinct was to reach out and lick her. Instead, he grabbed her body tight to his.

  “Enough, Rowena,” he said, whispering the words into her ear. By her body’s shudder, he knew he had her complete attention. “She will accompany us and we will move quickly through the forest to find her kin.”

  Just how quickly, they had no idea. When the opportunity arose, he planned to give in to his own need and flash into a stallion. The call to do so was singing through his blood.

  “That’s just great, but what about me? What about…” Here she stumbled, too ashamed to admit her own personal crisis.

  Inhaling her fresh, orange-lemony scent instantly thickened his shaft more. With her body pressed up to his, he knew she felt his desire. “I will take care of you.”

  “You’re driving me nuts,” she snapped, breaking free from him to move to the stone hearth, closer to Felicia.

  Her words hit home with Tulon. What by the Saints am I thinking? For the first time in a long time, not of himself. That made him mad.

  Maybe I should give in to this hunger and take the opportunity to ram Rowena to bliss. What’s wrong with being a little selfish?

  Deep down, he knew ramming Rowena only once wasn’t going to alleviate his desire and that notion didn’t sit well with him either.

  Chapter Seven

  “Does he ever talk?” asked Felicia.

  Rowena noted she wore a light brown fur top that concealed her chest. She hadn’t bothered to cover up her fawn legs. The sight of them still caused Rowena to gulp and blink all at once. In truth, she wasn’t sure how many more myths or legends coming to life she could stand.

  “Let’s just say he’s not a conversationalist,” she answered.

  As much as Rowena disliked sharing her own crisis, the knowledge that the young Betikhan walking beside her was facing the same end, in a slightly different way, bonded them together.

  “Is he your lover?”

  The Betikhan’s frank talk caused Rowena to blush. “No,” she replied more frantically than she intended.

  “He likes you,” stated Felicia, stopping to pick a bright orange flower that had small red berries.

  Rowena watched as Felicia popped it into her mouth and ate it, stem and all. The flower was the same type of plant she had watched Tulon pop into his mouth. Obviously it was edible. Grasping one of the plants by the stem, she pulled hard and placed it in her mouth.

  “Yuck.” She attempted to spit out as much of the bitter plant as she could. “That’s disgusting. How can you eat that?”

  “I’m Betikhan. To me, they taste wonderful,” answered Felicia, popping two more for show into her mouth.

  “Will you two stop talking and move it,” commanded Tulon, ducking under and over branches as nimble as could be.

  Not so for Rowena. No longer wearing the sheer see-through dress, she was garbed in simple breeches and a tunic. Hard leather sandals adorned her feet.

  Tulon wore black breeches and a black tunic, but he had preferred to go barefoot. The simplicity of his clothes and the color suited him like a glove. He was also the only one armed. Lady MacQuellion had given him her bow and arrows as a going away gift.

  Rowena had felt humbled as Lady MacQuellion openly wept when they left. To Lady MacQuellion, she had been saying goodbye to her one and only daughter. So what if she hadn’t given birth to the girl. Rowena knew Felicia had found a place in Lady MacQuellion’s heart forever.

  They had been traveling for half of the morning and gone about four klicks. The underbrush of the forest was getting thicker and harder to wind through. A few times Tulon had turned them around, forcing them to backtrack and go around a large knot of impenetrable trees.

  When he held up his hand to silence them, she stilled.

  What does he hear? She strained her ears for any noise besides the eerie silence of the Dark Forest.

  “We need to move, something is coming our way,” he said, plunging his way through the forest.

  Rowena shivered. She didn’t like the Dark Forest and she especially disliked the things that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

  When a snake-vine attempted to twine its way around her leg, she screamed. Immediately, Tulon was at her side. He slammed his foot down hard on the vine and instantly it went limp.

  Grateful, Rowena opened her mouth to say thank you.

  “I told you to move it. Now!” he commanded, roughly yanking her forward.

  The man doesn’t deserve my thanks. “Let go of me,” she said, huffing as he continued to drag her through the forest. A quick look around and she realized Felicia was nowhere in sight.

  “Where did Felicia go?” she asked, fearing they had somehow gotten separated.

  “She’s ahead of us. I told her to run. She knows what’s coming after us, so she didn’t hesitate.”

  “What’s coming after us?” asked Rowena, hating her own curiosity.

  “The forest,” he stated, never once letting go of his hold on her arm.

  Rowena wanted to ask what that meant, but she didn’t need to. Behind her, she could see exactly what he was talking about. Large trees were uplifting their roots to lumber after them, while vines slashed forward like a horsewhip toward them.

  “Run,” she screamed, as a large tree to Tulon’s right attempted to grab him with its large branches.

  He narrowly dodged it, still dragging her along.

  “Once we make it past the river, we will be safe.” Tulon picked up speed as he easily sidestepped the trees’ advances.

  “I don’t think we’re going to make it,” shouted Rowena, willing her legs to move faster. A cramp in her side restricted her breathing. To stop, though, was certain death.

  Abruptly she felt Tulon grab her, forcing her to a standstill.

  “What are you doing? We can’t stop,” she said, panting from fear and exertion, as she tried to break free from his grip.

  “Look down,” he said, killing another vine with his foot.

  “By the Saints,” said Rowena, her breath catching in her throat. They were standing on the precipice of a cliff and down was a good sixty feet. Death loomed all around them. Instinctively, she moved closer
to Tulon.

  “Okay, macho-man, just how do you propose we get out of this one alive?” she asked.

  “We pray,” he said.

  Rowena didn’t like that answer. She had never been a great believer and the power of prayer was beyond her. Now, however, she silently recited every prayer she could, hoping for a miracle.

  Tulon sought the magic within him. Then he threw back his head and bellowed as loudly as he could, wondering if it would do any good. Things certainly didn’t look good for them. And where, by the Saints, is Felicia? If she had taken the same route as they had, she should be here with them. He hoped she had found a way down the cliff, but highly doubted that.

  Two more lumbering trees came at him. He backed up and moved to the right, putting more space between him and Rowena.

  The answering cry from the skies was a welcome relief. His friend Rusty was coming to the rescue. Now if only he’d kick those wings of his into high gear. Tulon once again shifted to the right to lure the trees away from Rowena. A rush of wind cascaded through his hair.

  “Fancy seeing you here. What’s it been? Let me think… almost two years and you’re still running around as a two-legged.”

  Rusty’s hollow laughter as he swooped in low to almost kick him in the head didn’t amuse Tulon.

  “I’ll explain it all later. Save the woman!” he yelled, choosing to ignore the jab about his human form, as he jumped to narrowly avoid becoming pulpwood by the angry trees that were seeking revenge for their trespassing through the forest.

  “You mean that woman,” taunted his friend, flying low once again to jeer at Tulon.

  Tulon looked to his left. All he could see were Rowena’s hands as she gripped with all her might at a fallen log that hung over the cliff.

  “Blast it, Rusty, get her. Now!” yelled Tulon, frustration eating him raw.