“How is it possible,” he growled, “that you look even more attractive when your body is covered?”
My eyes widened, and I suddenly understood the white shape on the floor.
“It’s a bed!” I gasped.
Fenris’s smile widened. “Do you like your dowry?”
I stared at the mountain of pale fabric bunched in the middle of the cave. It stretched all the way from the cave’s opening to the far wall, giving us precious little room to stand. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the flicker of firelight, I could see it was a bit the worse for wear after being hauled through the Ironwood by the Fenris-wolf. Twigs and leaves clung to the surface, and I could see at least a half dozen fist-sized holes where his teeth must have sunk into the weave.
My heart glowed like an ember, radiating heat through my chest. It had to be the most beautiful bed in the Nine Realms.
“I’ve never even touched a feather mattress before,” I whispered.
Fenris sank down to sit on the edge of the bed. A cloud of tiny white feathers puffed softly into the air, escaping from the fang-shaped hole near his thigh. “Go ahead,” he said. “Try it. My wife.”
I knelt on the hard dirt of the cave and explored the fabric’s edge gently, as though it were a half-wild animal who may try to bolt. The cloth was soft and smooth, like the downy fluff of a golden chick in the first days of its life. I’d never felt anything so gentle against my skin; it was hard to believe there could be anything this soft in all the Realms, let alone enough to cover this mattress.
“W-Where did you get this?” I said, as my throat threatened to close again.
“I stole it,” Fenris said, with a defiant gleam in his eyes.
I raised my fingers from the white bed, slowly realizing how much bigger Fenris’s world was than mine. I’d never been further than the village where Ma sent me to sell the eggs, and I doubted anyone in our little village owned anything so luxurious. The owner of such a piece would have bragged about it to the entire town.
“Where?” I asked, my voice almost as soft as the fabric under my fingers.
Fenris shrugged, releasing another cloud of diminutive feathers as his body shifted on the bed. “Evenfel,” he said, as though I’d know the meaning of that word.
“What is that?”
“It’s on the Körmt. One of those stupidly pretentious places where the rich have summer homes. They have a strawberry festival where the fountain runs with wine.”
“Oh.” I rocked back on my heels and tried to ignore the stone growing in my stomach. I’d never seen that part of the Körmt river. I had no idea there were places where the fountains ran with wine.
Fenris stretched across the bed, his tanned skin an attractive dark contrast against the soft white fabric. His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and gentle.
“I can take you there, if you’d like,” he said.
My vision grew wavy, and I blinked to clear my eyes. All I could manage was a nod.
“Now,” Fenris whispered, “shall we try the bed?”
I let him pull me onto the massive, white mattress. It luffed softly beneath my hands and knees, releasing more downy feathers to float in the smoky air of the cave. I giggled at the feel of the fabric beneath my palms, then let myself roll over and fall into the bed. My bridal wreath released a cloud of heady scent as the blossoms mashed into the white fabric beneath my head. The mass of feathers beneath the soft fabric hugged my body as if I were floating, drifting and swirling downstream on the capricious currents of the Lucky.
“It’s like a cloud,” I said, sighing with pleasure.
Fenris’s eyes shone in the firelight. His hand trailed up my exposed thighs, and the heat between my legs surged in response.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I-I want you to be happy here.”
I grinned at him. “You’re frowning again.”
The dark crease in his forehead deepened as he raised his fingers to his face, tracing his puckered brows. “I’m sorry. I—”
I sat up and kissed his downturned lips. “I am happy.”
I shifted on the bed, releasing a wisp of tiny feathers into the smoky air between us. Fenris was still frowning at me, his eyes dark and serious. I knelt in front of him and ran my hands along the muscles of his shoulders, then leaned closer and followed the path my hands had traced with my lips. His warm skin tasted good.
“Husband,” I whispered. “I’m happy.”
He sighed, his breath hot against my neck. I pushed his shoulders, shoving him backward until he fell against the bed, feathers tangled in his hair like downy puffs of cottonwood seeds against the darkening sky.
His naked body lay before me, so dark against the white of the bed. I stared at the scattering of curls across his chest, the smooth lines of his muscles, the arc of his legs. His abdomen rippled as he breathed, and his manhood jutted, hard and insistent, from the jumble of curls between his legs. My own breath caught in my throat as the familiar burn of desire seized me. The rough fabric of Týr’s shirt rubbed against my nipples, sending hot shivers through my core. I needed him, now.
His back arched as I ran my hands up his thighs, the hair growing thicker as I neared, and then skirted, the thick length of his cock. He moaned when I lifted Týr’s shirt up over my hips and straddled him, guiding him slowly toward the wet heat of my sex. His hips rocked against mine, and he gasped with small, animal cries of need. I lowered myself onto him, watching his eyes in the flicker of the firelight gleaming between the stones of the hearth Fenris had built into the wall of our cave.
“Sol,” he whimpered. “Oh, Sol!”
With a low moan, his hips rocked up to fill me completely. I held him there, grasped between my legs, his body spread beneath me, his manhood buried deep inside me, our bodies joined as one.
Moving slowly, I leaned over him, letting the motion of our bodies ignite the spot above my sex that he’d first discovered. I rocked above him until I was no longer aware of the smoke, or the fire, the softness of the bed beneath me, or the distant call of the birds outside the cave. I made love to him until we were the only two things in the world, a man and a woman, coming together again and again in waves of ecstasy.
THE MONSTER’S WIFE: CHAPTER FIVE
“Should I get another deer?” Fenris asked, his frown darkening his face.
I shook my head. For the last week, Týr’s bread had sat ill in my stomach. This morning I could hardly even stand the smell of it, so Fenris and I were sitting in the grass outside the cave. Fenris moved carefully around me, as though he were afraid I might break; his caution irritated me.
“I’m fine.” I lifted my hand to cover my yawn. “I’m just tired.”
The crease between his eyes grew deeper. “You slept all day yesterday.”
“It’s your fault,” I replied, trying to make him smile. “That damn bed is too comfortable.”
He didn’t smile. Instead, he shook off the furs and stood, pacing in a tight circle in front of me. “I can get you something else to eat, then. Something that’s not bread or meat. Fruit? Apples are ripe now, no?”
Another spike of irritation lanced through me. “I don’t need apples.”
“Oh. I know what I’ll do!” His frown vanished, and his eyes gleamed. “You’ll be okay for a few hours?”
I snorted. “I’ll be fine. I promise you I won’t drop dead in the next couple of hours.”
The gleam of light left his eyes, and his lips turned down. Instantly, I regretted my stupid words.
“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing myself to stand. Another wave of nausea hit me, but I did my best not to show it. “I’ll be just fine. I’m already feeling better.”
Fenris was still frowning. I smiled and reached for his hand.
“Really,” I insisted.
I kissed him gently, little more than a brush across his lips, but it seemed to work. He pulled back and gave me a thin smile that was almost identical to his earlier frown.
“I won’
t be long,” he said.
A heartbeat later his body swirled with golden light as it elongated and darkened. Then the great monster of the Ironwood stood before me, his dark pelt still crackling with golden sparks. Startled birds flew from the trees around us, screeching their displeasure across the Nine Realms. Fenris turned his massive, pale eyes to me.
“You’re sure you’ll be—”
“I’m sure,” I snapped. “Go!”
With another shake of his great head, Fenris leapt the stream and vanished into the darkness. I sank back down to my knees, my empty stomach churning unpleasantly. It was only after I’d stumbled back into the cave and had sunk into our bed that I realized I had no idea where my husband had gone.
I WOKE TO BRIGHT LIGHT pouring through the cave’s entrance. It was mid-morning, I realized with a jolt. Fenris was right; I had been sleeping a lot over the past handful of days. I kicked off the sleeping furs, as fear tugged at the edge of my mind. Was something actually wrong with me? And if so, what in the Nine Realms could I possibly do? As much as I loved Fenris, I doubted he knew much about healing or illnesses, and I was farther now from the village wise woman than I’d ever been in my life.
As if it could hear my thoughts, my empty stomach grumbled. I stood and stretched. My fingertips brushed the soot-covered roof of our cave, dislodging a small, dingy feather from the bed that had somehow become trapped in the soot-smeared crevasses of the roof. It drifted silently to my feet.
With a violent lurch, my stomach decided to disagree with the few bites of bread I’d managed to hold down this morning. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I barely made it out of the cave before vomiting into the scree.
“Shit,” I spat.
A heavy whooshing sound filled the air behind me, and I spun to see an enormous black raven settling on the boulders that hid our cave’s entrance from view. The bird tilted its head, watching me closely through beady, dark eyes. Above us, golden leaves flashed and flickered in the light as clouds chased each other through the cerulean sky. I shivered. Something about this bird echoed in my mind, almost as though I should recognize it.
“Go away,” I said, waving my hand irritably.
It didn’t move. The bird’s hard eyes moved from my face to the pile of half-digested bread I’d just splattered across the stones, then back to my face. It opened its mouth and croaked something that sounded disturbingly like a laugh.
“Well, fuck off, then,” I muttered as I crouched next to the stream to rinse out my mouth and splash cold water over my arms and face.
Something crashed in the forest, followed by the echoing calls of crows. Fenris had told me the crows always followed him, hoping to scavenge his kills. With a great, heavy beating of its wings, the enormous raven took to the sky. I listened for the thud of Fenris’s massive paws against the forest floor. To my surprise, I found I could smell him before I could see him. His thick, rich, forest scent filled my nostrils, bringing a rush of emotions: longing, desire, and a deep, aching need that tightened my chest.
A moment later Fenris materialized from the woods, like the night taking shape. Something golden and scarlet dangled from his muzzle. I saw a flash of what may have been legs, and my body flooded with cold revulsion. Had he killed someone? Had Fenris brought me a body?
I clamped my hands over my mouth to stop my scream. His muzzle opened, and the bundle tumbled to the ground. It landed too lightly to be a body. I hoped. In a flash of golden light, Fenris shook off the wolf’s shape and stood before me, handsome and smiling.
“Do you like them?”
“Like ... them?” I asked slowly.
Fenris bent to the bundle of gold and scarlet. My mind struggled to make sense of the rippling colors he held against his chest.
“Is that a dress?” I finally asked.
“Do you like it?”
I opened my mouth but struggled to find words.
“I got something that matches,” he said, dropping the dress and pulling a brilliant ruby vest from the pile. It was rumpled and streaked with dark bands of saliva.
“I—Why?” I finally stammered.
He frowned. “To take you to Evenfel. Like I said I would.”
My mind spun as I tried to remember when he’d said he would take me anywhere. “Is that where the fountain runs with wine?”
The edge of Fenris’s lip twitched in the barest hint of a smile. “Well, not always. And not right now, it’s not the Strawberry Festival. But, you need some different food—”
His voice stopped, and he inhaled deeply, smelling the air. He dropped the clothes, walked to me, and pressed his hands to my cheeks, searching my face.
“You were sick again,” he said. “I can smell it.”
I swallowed. My mouth suddenly felt dry. “I feel better now. Really, I do.”
His pale eyes met mine. I squirmed, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “And I’d love to go to Evenfel with you. Now, may I see the dress?”
His hands left my cheeks slowly; his eyes flickered with something dark and troubled.
“Fenris,” I whispered. “Husband. I’m fine.”
He shifted away from me, returning to the crumpled pile of clothes. My heart pinched as I watched him lift the dress out of the tangled pile of fabric. Was I feeling better? Truly?
“Here it is,” Fenris said, almost shyly. “I thought the red would look good with your hair.”
I smiled as I accepted the dress from his outstretched arms. It was almost as soft as the fabric on our mattress, and as smooth and supple as the fur of a newborn calf. For a long time, I just wanted to hold the dress, running my fingers over its folds and bodice, the delicate white lace along the cuff like a spray of yarrow blossoms, the crimson skirt which flowed like water through my fingers.
“I didn’t know anyone could make a thing so fine,” I said, when I was finally able to tear my eyes away from the dress.
Fenris shrugged, but not before I saw the flash of pride cross his face. “Plenty more where that came from. I could get you a whole rainbow of them.”
I pictured our tiny cave filled to its narrow entrance with piles and piles of dresses, and I laughed. “Where in the Nine Realms would we put them?”
His eyes sparkled. “Are you going to try it on?”
IT TOOK BOTH OF US to get me into the dress. As beautiful as the fabric was, it was obvious the dress wasn’t made for me. The skirt was too short, and the bodice far too tight. Even after we’d let the laces out as far as they could go, my breasts erupted from the top, and the skirts rose far above my ankles.
“I must look ridiculous,” I said, when I’d finally gotten a knot to hold in the slippery black fabric of the laces.
Fenris frowned, took a few steps back, and tilted his head to the side.
“Well?” I said, after several long, silent breaths. I held my hands out to either side, a gesture that made me worry my nipples were about to slip out of the bodice.
“You look ... funny,” he finally said.
“Funny? Is that supposed to be a joke?”
His frown deepened. “No. No, I didn’t mean it like that. You just ... you don’t look like yourself, is all.”
“Funny.” My voice wavered as though I were underwater. For one horrible second, I thought I might actually cry. I wore the finest dress I’d ever seen, and it just made me look funny.
“Damn,” Fenris muttered, almost to himself. He wrapped his arms around my waist. “You are amazingly beautiful. But this dress ... it makes you look less so. It’s like paint on a diamond.”
I sniffed, cursing my frail little ego. I used to hate being called beautiful. When had I become so stupidly sensitive?
“I prefer your wedding dress,” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to my neck.
“My wedding dress? You mean Týr’s old shirt?”
Fenris growled his approval. “Now, that dress, it makes you look even more radiant. The way it hugs your curves—”
His hands dropped to cup the swell of my ass, leaving no doubt as to which curves he was remembering.
“You’re funny,” I said, giggling in his arms. “Imagine preferring an old shirt to this fancy dress.”
“It’s not the clothes that interest me.”
His lean body pressed against mine, squashing the layers of silk and crinkling the organza underskirt. I let him kiss me, his lips and hands soothing my hurt feelings. I imagined the fancy new dress that made me look funny might come off just as it had come on, one tedious lace after another, but Fenris pulled away with a groan.
“We’d better go,” he said, “if we’re going to make it before nightfall.”
I blinked. “Make it?”
“You did say you’d accompany me to Evenfel.”
“Now? But we’ll need money, won’t we?”
“Right!” Fenris nodded at me before vanishing into our cave and leaving me standing in the bright sunlight, my chest uncomfortably pinched by the dress. My stomach crawled over itself; I tried to tell myself it was just the bodice squeezing my insides.
“Money!” Fenris declared victoriously as he emerged from the cave.
He tossed me a small leather sack, which clinked when it landed in my hand. It was supple and heavy. I raised an eyebrow at Fenris before opening the laces to peek inside.
Money indeed.
Golden coins glittered in the murky darkness of the bag, winking at me. No skinny coppers or slender half-moons of silver here; every coin I could see was a thick, golden standard. I didn’t even need to count them to know this was more money than I’d ever seen in my life.
“But—how?” I stammered.
Fenris shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “Týr. He used to bring me coin, until I finally managed to convince him I had no need for it.”
“He brought you money?”
Fenris’s eyes shifted to the treetops, and his cheeks darkened. “He thought I’d want to buy some company, now and then. I had to convince him I didn’t want some tavern wench.”
The Complete Fenris Series Page 17
