by Lee Savino
I was in a haze as he lifted me, leaving the pool and stalking back to the cabin, his lips never left mine as he ducked and entered.
The floor boards rang with his heavy, decisive tread.
My back hit the bed and he was on me, hard and hot. I froze. His weight pressing on me, his hot, wet mouth on me, kissing as if he was a dying man drawing air into his lungs.
In panic, I pushed at him, and his arms clasped mine and held them down.
“No,” I shrieked. For a moment, time blurred, and Thorbjorn’s weight became another’s, his hot breath another’s, sour with mead, angry fingers, ready to slap or grab—
I bit him.
He reared back, blood at his lip, he touched it and stared at the red on his finger.
I cowered.
In the next instant, he rolled off me. “Sage. Look at me, lass. You’re all right. You’re all right.”
In the next horrible moment, I came back to the room. Thorbjorn hadn’t tried to hurt me. He was my captor, yes, but the best guardian I’d ever had.
“I’m sorry,” I touched my own face, wishing I could melt into nothing. “I’m sorry.” I clutched my own shoulders, squeezing. Stupid, stupid. He had been about to mate me, and I’d ruined it.
“No, hush.”
“I’m sorry,” my breath hitched, burning in my chest.
“No more apologies,” he pulled me into his lap, holding me with care. His hand soothed up and down my back, and I lost control of my sobs.
“I wish I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…”
The cabin shuddered as the door burst open, and I jerked in fear.
“What is happening?” Rolf’s voice sounded thick. The room filled with the wild scent of the Change—the heavy smell like after hard summer rain. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Thorbjorn said, holding me tighter. “She is distressed. Calm yourself, Rolf.”
“I thought you were hurting her.” Rolf tore a hand through his hair. I cried harder. This was my fault.
“Not your fault, little one,” Thorbjorn said, and I flinched that he guessed my thought.
“Why would it be her fault?” Rolf snapped.
“Calm,” Thorbjorn rumbled.
“I’m not fit,” I sobbed. “I can’t be your mate.”
“Sweet one.”
“I’m too weak. You should choose another.”
“We cannot. Our beast chose. And we’ve lost our hearts to you.”
22
Thorbjorn
The little one lay on the bed asleep, spent from weeping. I sifted my fingers through her silky hair.
Rolf’s back was rigid as he stared out the door. We should not touch her so freely. She may not like it.
She does like it. She needs to feel close to us. I will not deprive her of this.
Sage let out a little moan. I rested my hand on her back, and she settled.
You seem so sure of her thoughts.
I frowned as a thought nagged at me. I do know her thoughts. I sense more of her every day. Even now I could touch her mind and know the restlessness there.
Our thoughts, feelings are melding, becoming one. It is as our comrades reported. The beast connects with her true nature. The part of her buried under the lies they fed her at the abbey, the lies she believes.
What lies?
That she is not worthy unless she is pleasing.
Rolf turned from the door, anger written on his face. She is pleasing.
She is perfect as she is, but she does not believe it.
Finally, my warrior brother came back into the cabin, squatting next to the bed to study our mate. It is hard for me to love something so fragile. What if we lose her?
If we do not love her, we will lose ourselves.
I lay with my eyes closed, listening to the men. They needed me to break the curse upon them. They deserved someone to love them. I wished I were… better, somehow. Untouched. Pure.
What would these men do with me when they learned I could not be their mate?
I woke to a pained yip. Rolf lay on the floor in wolf form, legs twitching, whimpers escaping from his muzzle.
I sat up, ready to swing down and wake him, when an arm wrapped around my waist. I opened my mouth to scream, and a hand covered it.
“It’s me, little one,” Thorbjorn murmured. “Don’t cry out.”
I nodded and he took his hand away.
“We should wake him,” I whispered. The wolf made pathetic sounds, claws scrabbling on the floor. “He’s having a nightmare.”
“More than a nightmare. He dreams of when he was with the witch.”
A whine broke from Rolf, slicing my heart. “What did she do to him?”
“Many things,” Thorbjorn left the bed. “Evil things. But you are never to approach him when he is like this. It is not safe.”
He waited for my nod, then crouched beside the wolf, putting a hand on its muzzle and middle at the same time.
The wolf woke, snarling, coming to its feet despite Thorbjorn holding it. A snap of its teeth, and Thorbjorn jerked away a bloody hand. Rolf backed away, teeth bared. My hair raised at the wolf’s feral growl.
Steady, brother. I heard the echo of Thorbjorn’s voice, but the warrior hadn’t spoken aloud. Perhaps I had imagined it.
A sharp wind, smelling of the air after a hard rain, and the wolf Changed. Rolf crouched in man form, naked body curled in on itself.
Thorbjorn fell to his knees beside him.
“The witch is not here. She’s not here, brother. She’s dead. I killed her.”
A shuddered gasp came from Rolf. His body shook. I left the bed, unable to stay away any longer.
As soon as my foot hit the floor, Rolf shot up, every muscle rigid, limbs trembling with tension.
“It’s all right,” Thorbjorn said, stepping between Rolf and me. “It’s only Sage. Our mate.”
For a horrible moment, Rolf stared at me. I froze, trapped in that feral gaze. Then he softened, turning to face the wall. His shoulders still trembled a little, but he said, “All right. I’m all right.”
Thorbjorn glanced back at me. I stared up at him, full of questions. He said nothing, but stretched out his hand—the one that Rolf had caught in his teeth. Blood still marked the skin, but the bite had healed.”
“Come,” Thorbjorn said. “It’s too hot in here. Let’s sit outside.”
I sat silently with the two warriors, wishing I had the courage to comfort Rolf. To tell him I understood. Thorbjorn still held my hand but I did not want to touch Rolf until he invited it.
Sometimes, it’s better to be left alone.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing to a glowing orb suspended in the trees. Thorbjorn shrugged, but Rolf lifted his head.
“The moon,” he rasped. “It’s full.”
“But,” I shook my head. “It is possible? We’ve been here a month.”
“I suppose so,” Thorbjorn said.
Rolf looked unhappy. “We should not stay here much longer. Who knows how many days will have passed? Or years?”
“The witch promised we’d return without losing any time,” Thorbjorn said.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“The same day, maybe a few more.”
“You trust too easily, brother,” Rolf said.
We did this for Sage. Thorbjorn’s voice sounded in my head. I stayed very still, wondering how I heard the echo of his thoughts. Perhaps the magic of this place allowed for such things. I would not have asked it of you, if I knew of any other way. Forgive me, brother.
Rolf shook his head. It’s not your fault. I only hope we do not regret it. He rose, and paced in front of the fire.
I watched Rolf pace, and held Thorbjorn’s hand, wishing I was strong enough to save them.
I woke between Rolf and Thorbjorn, two sleeping mountains on either
side of me. The heat of their bodies made a nice cocoon, a safe, shadowed place
where I could curl up and sleep forev
er. I’d made a fool of myself, but they
hadn’t left. Instead, they lay down beside me, protecting me like I was the
most precious thing in the world.
I reached out a hand to touch Thorbjorn’s arm, tanned and smooth,
hard with muscle. After a moment’s hesitation, I wrapped my fingers around his
bicep, marveling at the feel of his muscles, firm as rock under his soft skin.
My fingers splayed wide, unable to close over his large arm. He was so big and
strong. A monster.
My monster.
I kept exploring. The warmth of his body meant he slept naked but
for a scrap of leather around his waist. The Change left them with this tiny
bit of modesty, Rolf had explained to me. Sometimes it also left them with a wolfskin,
slung about their shoulders, and the fur usually the same color as their wolf’s
pelt.
I searched thoroughly, but for a bit of coarse hair on Thorbjorn’s
chest, there was no sign of fur, or his wolf, anywhere. Their Change was truly
magic. Thorbjorn called it a curse. I ran my hand over the broad plate of
Thorbjorn’s chest, doing what I’d ached to do, trace the lines and ridges of
his muscles, circling closer to his hips. Need pulsed through me, making me
brave.
I risked a look at Thorbjorn’s face. His eyes were closed, but
there was a hint of a smile on his lips, under the beard.
My hand followed the V cut into his muscles, leading towards his
groin, and Thorbjorn’s eyes snapped open. They were bright gold.
“Keep that up, sweet one, and I won’t want you to stop.”
“Maybe I don’t want to stop,” I told him.
“Touching me is dangerous. I want things… you may not be able to
give.”
His face was stern, expressionless. Not quite expressionless. There was strain in the lines around his eyes and mouth, the tightness in his body.
I should feel afraid. I should want to run. But the bad memories didn’t surface, and when I slipped my hand lower, Thorbjorn’s big body shuddered.
I smiled. In this moment, I held all the power.
He held himself still, but his muscles strained, veins running
down the taut expanse of him like ropes that held him down. Below his waist,
his cock grew long and stiff, sticking up at the ready. I sat up so I could
reach it better. When I pulled aside his loincloth and took his cock in hand,
he threw his head back, hips straining to push himself further into my grip.
“I’m not afraid,” I said, and again, louder. “I’m not afraid.”
Leaning down, I sealed my lips over the broad, flared head of his
cock. He tasted like salt and musk, and I pulled off to flick my tongue at the
sensitive spot under the tip. Groans followed my actions, spurred me further. I
rose up and straddled him, facing his feet. I worked his cock like it was the
only thing on earth, and, in that moment, it was the only thing that existed
for me.
Thorbjorn’s hips rose and fell, begging me. My own secret places
ached. Scooting forward, I set his slick rod between my cunny lips, and rocked
against him. His cock slid against my folds, waking up every part of me until
my body screamed to be filled.
“Wait.” Thorbjorn’s fingers caught my hips. “I am close. I want…”
His voice trailed off, tight with need. He didn’t want to force me, but he
wanted. I nodded. I wanted too.
Rising up, I guided him inside me. My body cramped as his filled
me, inch by delicious inch. I waited until I stretched to his size.
When I came down, I groaned.
“Now that’s a pretty sight,” Rolf said. He sat, jacking his cock,
watching us. I stared at the long rod and licked my lips.
“Do you want this?” He tugged his cock. I nodded again.
He slid off the bed, and walked in front to where I sat impaled on
Thorbjorn’s cock. As soon as he came close enough, I bent and took him inside
my mouth. His hands lightly held my head, comforting, not guiding me, and I
swirled my tongue along the underside.
Thorbjorn’s hips started rocking under me. I balanced on my hands,
drawing more of Rolf into my mouth, sucking greedily, as Thorbjorn filled me,
his massive cock stimulating my most secret places. The two men moved with me
between them, and I moaned to encourage them, my mind clouded with a haze of
lust.
After a time, Rolf pulled out of my mouth with a pop. “You want
this?” he asked, pumping his cock.
I nodded.
“Fuck him, then. Up and down.”
Thorbjorn helped me, hands on my hips lifting me up and down. Each
time I slid back down, he seemed to go deeper.
“Touch yourself now,” Rolf ordered. “Find your pleasure.”
I dipped a hand between my legs and found my sweet spot. Rubbing
frantically, I rode Thorbjorn. Rolf stopped me long enough to whip off my
shift, and then I rocked harder, tipped a little forward so I could bounce on
Thorbjorn’s thickness, my fingers slipping over my pleasure nub, my breasts
bouncing.
Thorbjorn took over. He slammed into me a few times, and my orgasm
caught me, dragging me over the edge. I fell onto my hands, gasping. Thorbjorn
thrust up, hard, and sent me flying again. Pleasure blazed through me. My cunny
clenched around him as he jerked in and out of me, cumming hard. I collapsed
onto my front. Only Thorbjorn’s hands kept me up on my knees.
“My turn,” Rolf said, and took Thorbjorn’s place behind me.
“Hang on,” Thorbjorn advised, and I grabbed the bedding just as
Rolf pushed into me. He pulled out almost immediately, and drove into me from
behind. It was brutal. It was beautiful. My orgasm blew up inside me, spreading
out to my limbs, limp on the bed. Rolf groaned, keeping my bottom propped in
the air as he finished.
“Sweet one.” He pulled out and dropped a kiss on my upturned arse.
Together the men helped me sit up.
“You smell like our seed,” Rolf said, and kissed me hard. A tug on my hair, and Thorbjorn turned my head to him, stealing a kiss as well.
“I loved the feel of you. You need to be filled by our cocks, often.”
“No more denying you are our mate.”
We’d eaten our fill, and I sat sipping the tea Thorbjorn made me when Rolf made his pronouncement.
I lowered my cup. “There must be other spaewives out there.” One who hasn’t been soiled by another’s touch.
“You are not soiled,” Thorbjorn said, and I jumped, surprise that he knew my thoughts so well.
“What makes you think you are?” Rolf asked.
“Did he tell you that?” Thorbjorn didn’t need to explain who “he” was.
“Yes. He called me a whore.”
A growl broke from Rolf.
“I know I am not,” I said quickly.
“Then why do you say you cannot be our mate?”
I frowned at my tea, and set it aside. Despair clawed at me.
“Sage, answer me.”
Hot rage boiled up from my gut.
“Because I am filth,” I cried. “He touched me… and I did nothing to stop it.” I lowered my voice to share the worst secret of my heart. “Some nights, I offered myself. It was better than waiting... knowing he’d come for me.”
Silence met my words, and I rolled to my front, hiding from them. This was it. This was the last go
od moment we’d share, before they threw me out, or took me back, or perhaps even killed me. I did even care. It did not matter. Whatever they did to me could not hurt more than how I felt.
“Sage, look at me.”
“No. I don’t want you to see me.”
“Stop, sweet one, you break us. We will burn the world with the rage of what was done to you.”
Thorbjorn pulled me into his lap. I caught a glimpse of Rolf’s enraged look before I pressed my face to his neck. Knowing these men would protect me—it helped somehow.
“There’s nothing you did wrong. Nothing.”
“I didn’t want him to hurt my friends. If he touched me, it wouldn’t matter…”
Thorbjorn tugged my head back by my hair. “No, Sage,” he said, before kissing me hard. “You matter.”
Rolf stood. “I think this calls for punishment.”
“What?” I squeaked, drawing my legs up tight to my chest. The men looked at me hungrily. My cunny quivered. Their punishment perversely, brought me just as much pleasure and humiliation in equal doses. “Why?”
“No one insults our mate. Not even you.”
“I think you’re right, Rolf,” Thorbjorn said. “Where is that strap?”
“No!” I lunged, and Rolf easily caught me and tossed me on the bed. He settled between my legs, spreading them wide.
“We don’t need a strap to punish you,” he grinned, and swept his tongue up my folds.
23
Rolf
Our mate tasted like honey and sweetness. I licked her clean and dipped my tongue into her for more. The music of her moans filled my ears.
“This is punishment?” she gasped.
I raised my head.
“Oh, Rolf, please.” Her hips bucked, begging for me. “Please don’t stop.”
“Admit that you are our mate,” Thorbjorn said.
Her head thrashed back and forth. I nuzzled her inner thigh, kissing and nipping at the thin skin there. Her legs jerked and I held them down.
“He will not pleasure you until you admit it.” Thorbjorn sat on the bed beside her, teasing her nipples. Her body bent like a bow. More honey trickled from her secret places. I followed the drop with my tongue, delving between her bottom cheeks.
“No,” she squealed, thrashing backwards on the bed. “What are you doing?”
