Bound to the Beast

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Bound to the Beast Page 19

by Kay Berrisford


  "Do not worry on it, lad," murmured Herne. He dropped the sampler back into Tam's lap, then turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked back, the lad had been blindfolded. Even through the fabric, Tam's glare cut him to the quick.

  *~*~*

  In truth, Tam wondered if his bump on the head had rendered him mad. Above all, his anger seethed. Why must Herne desert him again? He waited on the stump, eyes wide behind the blindfold and his teeth grinding.

  "Calleagh," said Herne, "I trust you to protect them both. If harm comes to either man or woman, from fairy or foul sprit, you know my revenge on your kind will be merciless."

  Calleagh insisted she would. Then Tam heard her footfalls on the bracken as she hurried away to blindfold Ann, and he could restrain himself no longer.

  He hauled himself up, fighting off his giddiness as he stumbled toward Herne. "Why are you leaving? You're wrong about the riddle. You haven't defied the Goddess. You nearly did when you rode with the Hunt, but you did her bidding when you sent them away. Hell, she gave you the power to destroy them when you shattered the hunting horn." He paused only to catch breath. "And I dreamed of the oak and the holly too, and they were damned good dreams. The oak and the holly might sometimes be at odds, but when the great oak lies naked in the winter, the holly clings about him and clothes him with warmth and love, not hate. She doesn't want war; I'm sure of it."

  Indeed he was too sick and tired to know anything beyond his basest instinct. Herne's large body firmed against his, catching Tam sidelong in his arms and pressing Tam's shoulder to his chest.

  "The riddle is about us," pleaded Tam.

  "Shhhh. Don't fight me," muttered Herne, weaving his fingers through Tam's hair. Tam dissolved into him; he couldn't help himself. "You've taught me many things in the short time we have been together. One is that I can resist the Wild Hunt and the oblivion it used to bring me. The Hunt will never stir my passions again. But you?" He stroked carefully down Tam's back, resting his hand on the curve of his arse.

  Tam shivered with pleasure, not least because Herne's touch grew so familiar and comforting.

  "You are the only one now who could push me too far. If the fairies heal you well tonight and you come to me begging as you begged before and set my antlers rampant? No, we cannot risk it. I…I can hardly resist you even now."

  Herne's breath tickled through Tam's hair, soothing him as Herne turned him in his arms. Tam tipped his chin in offering, yielding to a kiss. Blinded as he was, Herne tasted all the more potent, and he moved his tongue slickly against Tam's, sweeping to his depths.

  Then Herne tore away, still holding him but lengthening the distance between them. "You understand why I must leave you?"

  Tam still loathed the prospect, although Herne's kiss stunned him so well he could not argue. He let Herne help him back onto the horse. When Herne relinquished his touch, Tam shivered with an icy chill.

  "Now rest and heal," said Herne. "I will meet you all on the morrow, and then at least we can make a proper farewell."

  *~*~*

  At sunset the following day, an unseen fairy removed Tam's blindfold for the second time. He murmured his thanks to her wafting cloak as she fled to join her sisters, who tossed petals into the air so they showered like snow.

  After a night and day at their heortland, during which he had slept much and recalled very little beyond being touched and squeezed and fed medicine so sugary his stomach churned, he'd been led back to the sacred dell. He looked toward the great oak, where he'd unhooked the betrothal ribbon, and then to the circle of toadstools, slightly blackened and bathed once more in moonlight.

  The place where Herne first kissed him, first sealed them together, and now where they were to be torn asunder. He felt no bodily pain, as strong as he'd ever been, and Herne would not let him down; he knew it. But the sound of the fairies' laughter grated on his nerves, worsening his unease.

  He ruffled his hair, drawing out one of the petals that had tangled there. Or was it a petal? Faint brown patterning and an intricate lattice of veins betrayed a dead butterfly wing. He pulled a face, flicking it away. Suddenly he couldn't wait to get out of fairy clothes, this robe they'd given him that hung loose but still itched against his bare skin. Goddess, he missed Herne. He had to convince the stubborn fool they were meant to be together. Despite sense and reason, he hated the breaking of their betrothal. It felt wrong.

  Calleagh slapped his arse. He yelped and clutched his rear, afforded little protection by the thin robe.

  "Don't worry, my pretty boy," said Calleagh. "It's not you I'm ensnaring this good night."

  Ann wandered over, dressed in a fairy robe that floated while clinging to her every curve. Her loosed hair fell in coils, reaching almost to her elbows, and Tam raised his eyebrows. Her garb made her look as free as a dandelion seed in the wind, as if she'd never swept up rat droppings in her life. But as she reached to lace her fingers through Calleagh's, her thin smile suggested nerves as intense as his. Dressed in a matching robe, Calleagh pursed her lips, rendering her far too smug.

  "You never really ensnared me," he told her. "And even if you had 'licked my end,' I never would have stood proud for you. Whereas Herne the Hunter?" He leaned in close, pursing his lips in imitation of hers. "Quite the catch, don't you think? And all I have to do is breathe, and three horns stand proud. Now think of a good riddle for that."

  "What has three prongs and can fuck you to hell—mankind's devil or Herne the Hunter? Or both?"

  He recoiled, although he had to admire her quickness. Then Ann slapped Calleagh's rear, not too hard but enough to send her reeling forward and Tam staggering back farther. Even Ann seemed a little shocked by her action.

  "Don't be cruel, Calleagh," said Ann. "Sometimes I forget why I like you."

  "Because when they grow," answered Calleagh, "your talons will plunge and scratch even deeper than mine."

  Ann huffed but let Calleagh kiss her reddened palm and then lick it. Tam glowered at them both. He was glad Ann had found somebody to love her, but felt ever more out of place here, even less at home than in the village.

  "I'm sorry." Calleagh offered her other hand to Tam, curving her lips in conciliation. "If you love your beast so well, I do hope you can keep him after we've stolen your betrothal. And I'll be honest. You look almost as handsome together as we do."

  He conceded she and Ann did look good together, and Ann flourished fast into a vixen with bite. But he was not in the mood to lavish compliments. Having spent much time non compos mentis, he'd seen neither of them since Calleagh had blindfolded him the day before, and one matter still pressed.

  "Do you still have my sampler?" he asked.

  As Ann drew breath to answer, Calleagh spun her about, pointing to the skies. "Look, the full moon rises above the oak. We can begin our betrothal ceremony as soon as the huntsman arrives."

  With equal determination, Ann turned back to him, tugging her would-be wife with her.

  "Calleagh, I want to tell him the truth. Tam is family, the only true brother I ever had."

  He drew breath sharply. Maybe he did belong in this place, despite his unease. "And the truth is that the fair folk stitched the sampler? I thought as much. My mother was a fairy, wasn't she?"

  "If you're half fairy, I'm the Green Man's great wooden cock." Snorting like a whipped palfrey, Calleagh backed away. "I'll wait for you in the circle, lover girl."

  Tam looked to Ann for more answers, although a new doubt niggled at him. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? You truly want to stay with Calleagh for all time?"

  "Don't worry for me," she replied. "It's strange. I've been with her properly for but a day, but already I feel…different. Older, maybe? Stronger, definitely. Calleagh likes to protect me, but in some ways she's like a child. Mayhap she brings out a little of the mother in me. And I adore her still." A hush fell over the fairy company, and Tam sensed their time ran short. "Quick now. You must listen."

  Ann rose onto h
er toes and cupped his ear to whisper. "We argued about it for many long hours, because I thought Calleagh would not tell me everything. Then I realized she knew little more than I did. But it took just a single glance for her to tell the thread used in your mother's sampler was too fine to be even of the fair folk. She said the sewing must be the work of a spirit, although whether fair or foul, she did not know, and…and…Well, Calleagh doesn't like to admit to fear, but I believe its power frightened her. In the end, she curled up in my arms, and she sobbed."

  The notion frightened him but exhilarated him too, and she had not finished. "There's been other talk among the fair folk, about you. Human flesh is not usually so easy to stitch and heal, and your bones knitted fast. And then I told them about when your father died of the sweating fever, how you were taken even worse, and yet—"

  "Ann!" Calleagh shouted from the middle of the toadstool ring, stamping her foot.

  "I must go now." She kissed him on the cheek. He neither felt her nor followed her with his gaze. Herne had arrived, strain carved in lines on his heavy brow as he waited on the far side of the dell.

  Without his antlers, Herne's height rendered him slender-looking, almost fragile under the tricks of the moonlight. When the tiny raven-haired Elfaene sprang up in front of Tam, he still could not tear his attention from Herne.

  "Herne the Hunter gives his blessing to this ceremony," the Elfaene told him. "I should think your permission goes without saying, you poor fool."

  Tam's vision misted, his mind racing as fast as his pulse. She must have taken his silence as assent, for she turned to use her long snake tongue to slash the tops of the toadstools and draw forth fire. The magic neither shocked nor interested him anymore. Her efforts produced much smoke and a few thin flames in a wan, mint-green hue.

  Ann stood facing Calleagh in the middle of the ring. Calleagh smiled as she wrapped the re-stitched betrothal ribbon about Ann's wrists and her own and then cupped Ann's face.

  Any moment now, she would lean forward, and they would kiss.

  Goddess forgive him, he couldn't let this happen. He felt as if his heart were to be ripped out there and then. He slipped between the weakly flaming toadstools and wedged his arm between them. From the corner of his eye, he saw Herne start forward too, and his heart leaped.

  "I did not give my consent for this betrothal to be transferred," shouted Tam. "And it doesn't matter anyhow. Herne was called here by the Goddess herself five nights past, to be wed to me. Our bond is unbreakable. I know this. I'm sure of it."

  "No!" Calleagh bolstered her answer with a shove against his chest. He staggered back into the wall of Herne's thorax. All four squashed in the circle, Calleagh shook as if on the verge of a fit.

  "What are you doing?" asked Herne. "I too have thought long and hard on what we've learned, but I would never risk your life. And surely you are not yet healed."

  Tam hoped his fast-fading bruises would not put Herne off. He had not felt them since yesterday. "Never been better, man."

  "Then stop ruining everything," said Calleagh, hissing.

  "I'm not. Ann, surely you agree I'm right?"

  Her tight expression melting into a sigh of resignation, Ann pressed her forehead against Calleagh's. "Tam might not always be as clever as he believes he is, but…he's good at learning. And if he feels this strongly, we should trust him."

  "Don't you trust me?" pleaded Calleagh.

  "I do. But this time you've got to trust me."

  She withdrew her embrace, glanced briefly, fretfully, at Tam, then unwound the betrothal ribbon from her wrist and stepped backward through the ring. Calleagh stared after her, and then she threw the ribbon to the ground and followed.

  As soon as she vanished, the flames reared up, an impenetrable inferno. Surely the fire signified he was right. At its heart, he turned to face Herne, his loins stiffening already, a hot ache growing in his throat.

  "You are sure about this?" asked Herne.

  "Isn't it obvious?" yelled Tam, above a blast of white heat. "That sampler was the work of some force more powerful than the fair folk. Whether my mother is the Goddess herself or some sly spirit sent to perform her work, I don't know, and maybe I'll never know. But I was born for you. And I've made up my mind. I don't want this betrothal to be broken. Herne, you say you can offer me no kind of life, but I know now I could never live without you."

  He slid his knee between Herne's legs and rubbed his groin. Herne thinned his lips, grimacing. When Herne pulled him away, he cried out in frustration.

  "No, lad, wait," said Herne. "I know not what might happen if I claim you. Even if you are…a little more than human, I cannot ask you to suffer what I did, that terrible transformation." He softened his grip, and Tam firmed his body against him, stroking Herne's length through his coat.

  "This is my answer." He relished the twitch of a smile on Herne's lips, the needful glimmer in his eyes. "I'm ready. I'm prepared to be claimed by your flesh, made a spirit like you, with the Goddess's blessing."

  "Ah, lad. You remember what I told you? You have the power to free the beast in me."

  "I have no fear of that either." This was not quite true, but he thrust his hips to build more heat between them, revelling in Herne's moans. Herne's cock gave a twinge and stiffened further, as did Tam's.

  "I know what I want," pressed Tam. "And it's more than even the ginger can give me. You are what I've always wanted. You. Fucking me and mastering me and…being with me. For all time." He stroked Herne's bearded jaw, yearning for him, and then shivered with pure pleasure when Herne jolted suddenly and his antlers reared forth.

  "Do I really have to beg?" Tam smiled.

  Herne slid his hand to Tam's throat, gently stroking and possessing, stilling him at last. Then he crushed Tam to his chest, imprisoning his knee between thick thighs, and he felt Herne's gaze strip him.

  "No. No need to beg," said Herne. "We kissed five days ago, and the ribbon has already bound us. So let's seal this blessed betrothal, once and for all time."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tam wrapped his arms around Herne's neck, urging him down into a kiss that set Herne's mind swirling back fifteen hundred years. But not to…to…What was his name?

  He gently brushed his lips against Tam's, parting, then tasting, the tenderness flowing between them as fresh and new as their still-unconsummated bond. Deep inside, he grew young again, a virile huntsman, fresh from the chase through the wild wood.

  He'd pondered this union long and hard the night before, allowing his hopes to spark so brightly he'd brought a pouch of grease, hung from his belt, for after the betrothal had been broken. He'd seen images of their future, of Tam in his home, happy and industrious, allowing him time to hunt and brood in peace, and of lazy summers and cold winter nights when they'd never leave each other's arms. He'd recalled that ancient vision also, which had comforted him during his transformation. That auburn-haired lad who'd invited him warmly. His waiting lover, with his easy smile and his pale golden buttocks. Could that really have been Tam?

  Yes, it felt right. But he'd not believed. Not until now, as Tam remade him with his lips, warm and wet against his own. A future without Tam became unthinkable. And now it seemed that time to come would be more beautiful still. He would more than fuck Tam. He would claim Tam not just as his own but as a new immortal spirit, born of their coupling and roaming the forests at his side forever.

  Tam willed him deeper, stroking the back of his neck, toying at the fringes of his sweat-drenched hair as they spun toward territory unknown. Herne grasped Tam's arse, pressing through the filmy fabric to part those well-rounded buttocks, now hard as walnuts. Ah, he loved when Tam clenched. He raised his lad up, plundering ever deeper with this tongue, worshipping and adoring Tam's youth, his zeal, his life.

  Still he must get closer.

  Tam mirrored his desires, breaking the kiss to jump and hitch his knees about Herne's thighs, hugging about his neck, breathing and laughing hard. Herne grasped him tig
hter, taking all his weight, squeezing his rear until Tam cried out.

  Damn it, he wasn't even inside the lad and he felt his control slip, his bestial appetite rising. He tossed his head back, his antlers heavy and his voice thick with lust.

  "What have you done to me?"

  "What have you done to me? I set out to be betrothed to a fairy and to become a man." Tam laughed once more, as eager as he seemed nervous. "I never intended this."

  "In faith, what is this?" Herne grinned, losing more ground to his suppressed predatory nature. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Tam say it. He thought he'd known love before. What a fool he'd been.

  "This is the answer to the riddle," replied Tam. "Heortlufu. Our answer and our will. You chose to go back for me, even though you believed you went against the Goddess's word. And I now choose you—to Niogaerst with the danger!—because I know this is right. I want all of you this time."

  Yes, the truth sounded sweet from Tam's sharp tongue. Herne let the lad slip his feet to the floor so he could seize Tam's chin, tip his face up, and press his thumb to his dimple. "I will devour you," he promised, then sealed his lips over Tam's once more. The time for talking had passed.

  As Tam moaned, demanding, into his mouth, Herne's antlers throbbed as much as his cock. The kiss turned harsh as Herne scrubbed his bearded jaw against Tam's chin. Herne delved ever deeper, his teeth skimming delicate flesh, devouring the sweet nectar of Tam's mouth and snatching his breath. And Tam kissed back, digging his fingers into Herne's shoulders that hardened, rippling with sweat.

  Drawing back, he undid the clasp at the lad's throat, ripped his robe from him, and then tossed it through the fire. He drank in the sight of Tam's lithe limbs and his brown nipples framed by the shallow delineations of his chest. His stomach rose and fell, every breath drawing attention to the rust of hair that spread down to his tightened balls and his twitching thighs.

  When Herne pulled him close, Tam snarled in his evident frustration at the fabric still covering Herne's cock. They fumbled with the lacing on his coat until they ripped it apart. As soon as his length was freed from its confines, he pressed it to Tam's smouldering skin.

 

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