by Zoe Blake
“Good girl.”
Not sure if the warm feeling enveloping me was from his praise or the wine, I once more settled back into the furs. Lifted over the one they called Grimm’s shoulder, I had been carried deep into the forest. There against the jagged rock face of a mountain, they had placed me at the entrance of a large cave. The floors were covered in thatch with large piles of furs of every different shade of brown and gray stacked in haphazard piles. I watched in anxious silence as they built up a large fire, chasing away the cold darkness.
Each was crouched down on their haunches, tearing through the contents of the basket, eating the pieces of sweetened cake with their hands as they passed the bottles of wine around. The only sound, their grunts of pleasure. The warm glow of the fire cast strange shadows over the men surrounding it. Deep set eyes, lowered brows and strong jaws were made all the more fierce by the play of light. The heavily muscled brawn of their bodies was on full display as each wolf-like man wore only the barest of animal skins and fur to cover his frame.
I shifted my hips and winced from the soreness between my legs. Certain I had made only the barest breath of sound, I was startled to see five pairs of eyes trained on me, alert and still.
One broke from the pack and approached me.
“What are you called?” he asked. His voice was low and hoarse. His words halting and stilted as if he were not accustomed to speaking.
Licking my lips, I answered. “My birth name is Raina but I am called Red.”
“Red?”
I could only nod, feeling foolish for imparting even the sparest personal detail to these men. My mind and body were too bruised and worn to comprehend what was happening. I felt a distant numbness as if all that was occurring was happening to some other poor girl, not me. No. I was still under my favorite tree reading my favorite fairytale. Perhaps I had fallen asleep and at any moment would awake from this strange nightmare.
“Drink.”
This time, I didn’t hesitate. I took the bottle from his offered hand and drained what was left, welcoming the hazy feeling as it flowed over me.
“I tell you it is a sign,” said one of the men.
“You don’t know that,” said another.
“In close to five hundred years they have never sent a woman to appease us, and now they send us one with hair the color of the blood moon. Who can see us in our true form? It’s a sign.”
“It is remarkable that she sees us in our human form and not as wolves. Is it possible the village has finally learned a way to break the curse?”
The others snorted in derision.
“Perhaps Beo is right. This may be the sign we have been waiting for.”
“They don’t care about you,” I called out, the wine freeing my tongue. Rising on unsteady feet, I kicked away the pelts and walked towards the fire. Swinging my arm in an arch, the bottle held loosely in my grasp, I began to laugh. “They don’t care about you, and they really, really hate me. Especially my grandmother. You think you’re cursed?” I asked as I hiccupped loudly. “I’m the one who is cursed. Cursed from birth.”
“What the hell, Canis! How much did you give the lass to drink?”
“I don’t know. The dregs of one bottle and half the other.”
“You should know a woman her size can’t handle that much wine.”
“Ease up. It’s been centuries since I’ve been around one,” complained Canis.
“You’re sup…sup…. Wolves! You’re supposed to be wolves!” I slurred as I desperately tried to focus.
Grimm rose to his full height, towering over me as he placed his hands on my shoulders to steady my swaying frame.
“You! You!” I accused as I pounded the tip of my finger into his chest. “You’re the one who hurt me…who made me…made me…feel…feel those things.”
Everything tilted and pitched as Grimm swung me up into his arms. Another of the men approached me and pried the wine bottle from my grasp.
“Don’t think you will be needing this anymore.”
A protest died on my lips as the warm strength of Grimm’s arms seeped into my bones. Without thought, I rested my head against his shoulder as he carried me deeper into the cave. Lowering me to the ground, I was once more placed on a bed of furs. Softness caressed my cheek as I snuggled in deeper. I felt a hand pet my hair.
“Sleep, little one. I fear tomorrow will not be any easier for you.”
I closed my eyes and let the sweet oblivion of sleep carry me away.
“She stinks.”
“Helm.”
“What? She reeks of the humans.”
“We are still human.”
“My brother. I accepted my fate long ago. You should do the same. We are cursed to roam this earth as wolves, and wolves we will stay.”
“I am not resolved. There must be some reason why this lass has been sent to us. Some explanation as to why she can see our true form.”
“While you ponder the mysteries of the fates, I am taking the lass to the hot springs. She stinks.”
As I listened to their hushed conversation, I couldn’t help but lift the collar of my tattered gown up and inhale. True, I smelled a bit like stale wine, but I would hardly say I stunk, I thought indignantly.
“Lass. It is time to arise.”
“My name is Red,” I grumbled.
“Your name is whatever I call you. Now arise and serve us.”
Leaving the comforting warmth of my fur cocoon, I wrapped my red cloak more firmly about me and followed the disgruntled man-wolf out of the cave. As the night before, the fire still burned brightly in the hazy morning light. The rest of the men were crouched around its welcoming flames.
The one who woke me gestured to a large copper pot nestled above the fire. “Serve.”
Casting him a peevish look, I knelt down before the make-shift hearth. There was a stack of wooden bowls and carved spoons on a straw mat. Giving the porridge in the pot a stir, I began to slowly ladle out portions into the bowls. My mouth watered as the sweet, nutty scent of the cooked oats wafted over me. Handing each man a bowl, I took my own portion and settled close to the fire but slightly away from the intimidating men. Scooping a steaming bite onto my spoon, I stopped just as I raised it to my mouth, startled to see all five men digging into the hot porridge with their bare hands. Once again they were grunting in pleasure as they had done with the cakes the night before.
Noticing my regard, one of them stopped and elbowed the one next to him who nudged the one next to him and so forth. Each man slowly stopped eating. All that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and the morning birdsong from the trees.
With a sigh, Grimm leaned forward and picked up a spoon. Casting a meaningful glance at the others, they did the same. Then all eyes turned to me. Slowly, I lifted the spoon and sampled the porridge, watching as they awkwardly mimicked my actions. There was a strange companionable silence as we all broke our fast.
Grimm spoke first. “You are here as the blood moon sacrifice from your village. Do you understand that?”
I nodded.
“You are payment for our protection and, as such, will bend to our will and serve us in any manner we demand. If you do not, the innocent lives of those in your village will suffer.”
Again, I could only nod.
“I am Grimm. This is Helm, Beo, Canis and Rood.”
During the chaos and fear of the night before, they had all seemed as one to me, brother beasts, with glowing amber eyes. Now in the morning light, I could see the subtle differences.
Grimm was the oldest and the clear leader of the pack. He was tall with ink black hair tinged with silver and had a forthright manner.
Helm was the brawniest of the five and by far the angriest. His massive chest was covered in thick swirls of chestnut hair. He seemed the most beast-like.
Rood had yet to speak. He was tall and sinewy. His hair was a light brown which only emphasized the amber of his eyes.
Canis was the only one who had s
miled at me. True, I think it was because he found my drunken state amusing, but I clung to the notion that perhaps out of the five, he would be the most sympathetic to my plight.
I knew Beo by the deep rumble of his voice. As tall as the rest, his wide-set shoulders and sharp gaze gave him a fearsome air. He was the one hoping my presence was a sign. I trembled to think what he would do in his disappointment when he learned I was nothing but an unwanted orphan. A disposable member of the village whose only contribution to their lives would be my death.
My sacrificial death.
“Are…you…are you going to…to kill me?” I closed my eyes as I awaited his response. Not daring to breathe, I felt lightheaded and frightened.
“That depends on your obedience,” said Grimm.
I opened my eyes and met his stern glare. “Did you kill the others? Those who came before me?”
“Their fate is none of your concern. Worry about yourself,” grumbled Helm. “Enough talking. You have had your turn, Grimm. She is mine now.”
“Wait! No!”
Ignoring my cry, Helm grabbed my arm and pulled me up, placing a shoulder in my middle as he hefted me high. Beating on his back, I screamed and yelled as he carried me further and further away from the fire and deeper into the forest. Desperately, I kicked my legs out but that only earned me a stinging slap to my bottom, the power of his open palm felt through the heavy brocade of my cloak.
As the light of the fire faded in the distance, the chill of the forest crept in. I could see frosty puffs of air with every exhale. Long after I had ceased to pound on his back and cry out, he finally halted, unceremoniously depositing me on a bed of pine boughs. Searching my surroundings, I saw a wondrous site. Great boulders of ice and snow surrounded a steaming pool of water. It was as if it appeared like magic out of the forest floor. An enchanted grotto of fire and ice.
As I lay sprawled at his feet, Helm removed the fur pelt which covered one arm and part of his chest. I froze in fear as he reached for the stitched leather and fur kilt which was slung low on his hips.
“No! Don’t!”
With a smirk, he let the fabric fall, and a menacing extension of his body sprang free. As thick as a tree branch, it seemed to be made of sinew, pulsing with blood. Shaking my head, I tried to crawl backwards. Helm stepped on my cloak. Undaunted, I dropped my shoulders so my arms would slide out of the sleeves. Knowing my thin gown would be no protection against the elements, I still would give up the warmth of my red cloak if it meant escape from the threat of the beast before me.
Helm gave a low-throated chuckle as he watched me struggle to free myself from the thick folds of my cloak.
“There is no escape, Red. Accept your fate as I have accepted mine.”
“Never,” I responded hotly.
His face broke into a morbid pantomime of a smile. “I was hoping you would have the spirit to fight me, for I am not in the mood to be gentle with ye.”
Reaching down, he fisted the delicate fabric of my gown and lifted me bodily by it. As if I weighed no more than a sparrow, he tossed me into the warm water.
Sputtering and choking as my head broke the surface, I pushed the wet strands of hair away from my face as I struggled to stay afloat. The wet material snaked and twisted around my legs. With my every movement, the gown became more entangled. Desperately swinging my arms through the water, I was losing the fight. With an awful swoosh, I once again plunged beneath the clear blue surface. The sounds of frantic splashing, the frightened call of the birds all vanished. Underwater…silence reigned as I sank deeper and deeper down into the darkness.
A strong arm wrapped around my middle, hefting my weightless body upwards. I could see sparkling flashes of light, the sun dancing over the water, just before I was lifted high.
Gasping as we broke the surface, I was carried across the hot spring to the edge. My toes touched smooth rock as he placed me on some sort of ledge. The water lapped around my body just above my hips. Helm stood before me. With his superior height, the water crested low on his hips. That menacing extension of his body bobbed up and down with the movement of the water. I tried to shift backwards, but his hand around my waist prevented it.
“Foolish girl, why did you not swim?” Helm angrily chastised.
“I would have had my gown not prevented it!” I fumed back.
“If your gown is the problem, then we need to get rid of it.”
“No!”
His two large fists gripped the collar of the gown and viciously rent the simple, thin fabric in two. Grabbing at the sides, I tried to fight his hands and cover my nakedness with what was left. He only laughed. Pulling me forward, he pushed the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms. I watched helplessly as the two pieces of fabric floated away. With its billowing folds and the ripple of the water, it almost looked like a pair of wings in flight, before the waterlogged cloth slipped below the surface and sank.
Wrapping my arms over my breasts, I glared up at the unmerciful giant before me. Though I’d been stripped the day before, I hadn’t felt truly bared. Even when Grimm…when Grimm…even last night, I’d felt the cover of darkness had concealed me like a shroud. Now, as bright sunshine glistened through the dark trees and bounced off the water, there was no place to hide. Enduring his scrutiny, I could not help but see the stark contrasts in our bodies. Mine smooth, pale and slight. His darkly tanned, big and muscled. Dark hair covered his chest and…lower. The men of my village were short with the weak, lanky limbs that come from little manual labor.
Not so with these five wolf-men.
Despite my hatred of my enslavement to them, there was something deep and primal…an instinct…which responded to their display of strength and power. A core feminine ache to be protected and cared for.
The problem was, protecting and caring for me was the very last thing on these men’s minds.
Crying out in fright, I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes when he made a sudden movement towards me. I could feel the warmth of his body as he stepped closer. That…thing…brushed high against my stomach.
His only response was a deep chuckle.
Keeping my eyes closed, trying to block out the frightening and confusing thoughts his presence elicited, I could smell the fresh scent of sandalwood. Peeking through my lashes, I saw his large hands covered in fragrant foam as he lathered them with a bar of soap.
Placing the soap on the ice behind me, he commanded, “Open your eyes.”
Fearing what my disobedience would bring, I obeyed.
“Now lower your arms. You need to bathe. It may have been hundreds of years since I have taken a woman, but I’ll not fuck one stinking of the village.”
Wondering if fucking meant what Grimm had done to my body the night before, I tearfully complied.
“Please, you don’t have to…to…fuck with me,” I begged.
Helm didn’t respond.
Reaching out, he placed his hands on my breasts. My mouth fell open in shock. Unable to form the words to protest, I could only feel. Caressing and kneading my flesh, he rubbed his hands in circles, leaving a sudsy trail of soap lather. My breasts felt heavy as my nipples tightened painfully into small buds. The scrape of his work-roughened palms over my soft flesh only heightened the sensation of his touch. When his hands moved to my shoulders then down my arms, I had to bite my lip to stifle a groan of disappointment. Slipping his hand beneath the water, he placed his flattened palm over my sensitive core. Still slightly swollen from Grimm’s touch, I winced as Helm’s finger pushed between the folds. His hand moving back and forth, the friction of his touch caused a fluttering sensation to settle deep in my stomach…and lower. My breath came in soft, harried gasps as his touch quickened. Sliding my feet to the side on the slippery stone ledge, I opened my legs wider. His middle finger pressed into my body. Once, twice.
This time, I did groan when he pulled free. My now sensitive nipples were tickled by his chest hair as he leaned over me to reach for the soap. Working the
soap into a heavy, thick lather, he placed it aside and pushed his fingers into my hair. Entangling his hands in my wavy locks, he rubbed my scalp and ran his hand down large fistfuls of hair, coating each curl in fragrant foam. His hands caressed down the curve of my back before settling low, just above my bottom. Pulling me forward, my hips pressed against his stomach, he trapped his engorged protrusion between us. Despite the warmth of the water, his skin felt hotter. As if he burned with his own internal fire.
Using his right hand, he grasped my hair and forced my body back. My breasts were thrust upward as my back bowed under the pressure of his grasp. The water lapped at the sides of my face as he rinsed the soap from my hair.
Feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed when he set my body upright, all I could think about was his touch and the growing ache between my legs. Leaning over me, he once again reached for the soap. Watching him handle it, his palm twisting and turning it, I couldn’t help but wish he was soaping my breasts once more. Tossing the soap aside, he lowered his brow and held my gaze for a moment. Seeing movement, my eyes slipped lower. He was handling himself. Rubbing the protrusion up and down, up and down, covering it in soft lather.
“Do you know what a cock is, Red?”
I shook my head no.
Nodding to the protrusion in his hand, he said, “This is a cock.”
The word was so guttural and coarse. It suited him.
“Say it. Say cock.”
Licking my lips, I obeyed. “Cock.”
His full lips broke out into a satisfied smile. “Now turn around.”
Unsure, I just stared. I didn’t want to take my eyes off this dangerous man.
“I said, turn around,” he repeated, his voice lowering with anger.
With no choice, I turned my back on him.
“Now place your hands on the ice and lean forward.”
Although encircled by great, jagged pieces of ice and rock, there was a large flat space cut out to form a stepping ledge. I placed my palms on its smooth icy surface.
