by Lee Savino
“I’m not a virgin either,” I blurted.
He raised a blond brow.
My arms came up to cover my naked chest, and I forced them down. “I’m old enough to do as I please.” I’d never had a great love, but I’d dabbled with the pleasures of the flesh. My mother taught me enough herblore to avoid bearing a child and even if she hadn’t, Nanny was adamant I drink her disgusting brews daily.
The Sea Wolf stepped close, crowding me backwards until the backs of my thighs hit the bed.
“That’s why I had the knife,” I told him as he took my hands and propped them on his chest. “In case my bridegroom mistreated me.”
His laugh rumbled under my palms. Dipping his head, he brushed his mouth over my mine. A wave of his scent rolled over me, pulling me under.
When he broke the kiss, my legs trembled. I leaned into him, ready for more. He positioned me on the edge of the bed and climbed behind me.
“What—” my voice stopped when he touched me. My hair. He was brushing it out with his fingers. He hit a snag, stopped to tease it out, and went on more gently.
I sat still as the Sea Wolf combed out my hair as carefully as my nursemaid.
“You can’t speak.” I settled myself. “Do you know how to break the spell?”
“You,” he grunted.
Hairs raised on my arms. “Me?”
“You.”
He nuzzled my neck. Set his teeth at my throat—my pulse leaped—but moved on. Embarrassed fire followed his lips. Wherever they touched golden flame burned.
My time with the village boys had never been like this.
I was wet and aching by the time he nuzzled my belly. The belly—choice meat to a wolf. But the Sea Wolf tonight he was more man than beast, for he didn’t rip into my body, but nosed further south. Down between my legs where my dark hair grew thick and wiry as furze bush.
He blew on the petals of my sex and I writhed. His hands shackled my legs to the bed. His tongue touched my skin.
“No,” I gasped. “You cannot.’
But this warrior would do what he would. He lapped at my sex slowly, hunting and driving my pleasure before him. A wolf stalking his prey. Golden threads ran through me, beads of light gathering into thicker strands until I was made of a bright river. I clutched the tawny head between my legs as the stars burst behind my eyes.
He climbed up over my body and bent to my mouth. I tasted myself, earth and salt, and drank in his honeyed musk, sipping him like mead until I drowned.
3
I woke in unfamiliar arms, the rock-hewn embrace of a warrior. The Sea Wolf was sleeping with his broad face buried in my hair. I wriggled around and he opened his eyes.
I caressed his lips and tasted a hint of my secret scent. I blushed and his chest rumbled.
“You’re laughing at me.” I frowned. He’d laughed when I’d slit his throat. Strange man.
“How long have you been like this? A year? Ten?”
He gazed at me.
I gulped. “A hundred?”
With a growl, he stirred from the bed, leaving me cold. Leaving a giant empty space. He returned with the horn and some meat, which he fed me from his hand.
“Why me?” I asked after I’d swallowed
He stared at me.
I slipped from the bed and began to pace. “I Saw—I don’t know what I Saw. I heard a wolf before you came. But why would you claim me?”
He sat on the bed, watching me patiently.
“I am not very powerful. I only have a few tricks. The Sight.”
He snorted.
“I am telling the truth.” I whirled on him. “I have no power! I couldn’t even keep myself from being married against my will.”
He growled.
“It didn’t happen. You stole me in time. But Dòmhnall won’t be happy. He threatened my father. You must let me go back.”
The Sea Wolf stared at me.
“I mean it. If I can break the spell, will you let me go back?” In the long silence, I shifted from foot to foot. When the warrior reached for me, I let him tug me into his arms. He nuzzled my neck, growling over the marks the rope had left. Then he brought handfuls of my hair to his mouth and nose, sniffing as if he held a bouquet. He seemed as enamored with my scent as I was with his.
“How is it you can be here in the tower?” I asked. The curse said he couldn’t step a foot on land. But here he was. Of course, this part of the keep was over the water. The long staircase “It’s not on land, is it? It’s built over the sea. That’s why you could not come up the regular way, from the beach, through the keep. You had to leap the rocks and climb up the side…” I pressed a hand to my forehead. The Sea Wolf worried a freckle on my shoulder. I was still naked, but he wore a pelt around his hips. Not that the thick fur kept me from feeling his hardness under my hip.
“This is madness,” I muttered. “I cannot believe it.” And yet my mother told me of a great warrior I would marry. I thought it a silly tale.
I had a thought and wriggled around to face him. “Am I the raven who will lead you home?”
He kissed me, his stubble scratching my chin. I gasped at the wave of heat that crested inside me.
“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll find a way to break the curse, but then you must let me go. Promise?” I cupped his face in my small hands. “You have to let me go home.”
With a growl, the Sea Wolf pulled me into his lap, slinging a pelt around my shoulders. He glared at the doorway a few heartbeats before Hawk appeared.
“Glad to see you both alive and unbloodied.” Hawk didn’t seem to notice the Sea Wolf’s fierce glare. When Hawk came close, the Sea Wolf’s angry rumble increased.
“Stop it,” I hissed to the warrior holding me. “He’s not gonna steal me away.”
“Wolves protect their mate,” Hawk said and dropped the finest gown I’d ever seen beside me. “Thought you’d be needing this.”
“It’s beautiful.” I tugged at the strong arms holding me. The Sea Wolf reluctantly let me go long enough gather the gown.
“I can show you the beach, if you like,” Hawk said as he collected our empty dishes. He didn’t look at me, but I knew he wasn’t speaking to his leader. “Just come down when you’re ready.”
A loud growl overpowered my answer.
“Oh, come now, the lass is right. I won’t be stealing her away. But she needs fresh air and sunlight, and a chance to stretch her legs.”
And a respite from the warrior who can’t keep his hands off me. “I promise to return,” I told the Wolf, ignoring Hawk completely. The big warrior relaxed somewhat and released me. I took it as permission.
The dress fit perfectly. Being clothed calmed me.
“I’ll be back,” I promised again, and skipped down the steps. Hawk was waiting at the bottom. He escorted me past the crew who were mostly sleeping even though the sun was high.
As Hawk and I walked down the beach, a distant figure followed our progress. The Sea Wolf leapt from rock to rock, staying far enough from the shore only his bright head and white pelt marked who he was.
I picked up a pretty shell and studied it. “How long as he been like this?”
Hawk squatted near the surf. “I met him when I was a boy. He looked much the same as he does now. Fewer scars.”
“The curse doesn’t allow him to walk onshore?”
“Not if he wants to keep his humanity. Although it doesn’t seem to matter now. He loses more of himself every year.”
I pushed back my hair when the wind teased it. Out at sea, the watching figure stood tall and so still, I’d think he was a carved sentinel. “Tell me of his past. What do you know?”
“He was a great warrior. A Northman. He had this ship when I met him. Different crew. We sail with him because the pay is good. He never loses a fight.” Hawk rose and held out his hand, though I knew he didn’t want me to take it. “Come. Best be back.”
“Why me?” I asked as I fell into step beside him. The figure at sea had already disap
peared. “How did he find me?”
“Don’t know. He orders us where to go. Told us to sail to that island you lived on. We saw you on the cliff before the mists came up and helped us steal you away.” Hawk grinned as if he were proud of his work, kidnapping me. I rolled my eyes.
By the time we reached the foot of the stairs, he’d sobered.
“You call to him, lass. He’s never hunted anyone like this before. I don’t know if you can break the curse but—”
I put up a hand and he fell silent. “I have to try.”
My captor wasn’t back in our tower when I returned but it was just as well. Hawk gave me more water to wash, and even provided a few herbs. After he left, I purified myself and the room. Tossed away my old gown and bloodied pelts. Built up the fire, unbound my hair.
Hawk hollered up before he entered the room. When he saw me, he whistled. “Well, now.”
I blushed. I’d prepared myself like a bride. I’d done more for my captor than I’d done for Dòmhnall. “I hope it works.”
Hawk set a full pitcher of mead and a plate of meat down where I directed. “If it helps, I’ve not heard him laugh in a long time. Not like he laughs around you.”
I snorted. “He laughed when I tried to slit his throat. Not sure if that’s a sign he’s more a man than a fool.”
“You’re the only woman who ever dared take a knife to him. Or fight him at all.”
I gnawed my lip.
“Are you afraid he won’t forgive you? He already has. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like he looks at you. And you him. You’re not as afraid of him as you pretend.” He wagged his finger at me.
“His presence, it’s potent,” I admitted. “Feels like fire, or strong mead.”
“That’s love, I expect.”
I shot Hawk a sharp look. He laughed and rapped the table before heading out. “Don’t worry, lass. If anyone’s strong enough to love a man like that, I reckon it’s you.”
Moonrise found me by the fire hearth, braiding and re-braiding my long, dark hair. The Sea Wolf hadn’t returned yet, and when he did, what would be? Man or beast?
A lonely howl cut the night and I shivered. What was the nature of this curse and how could I break it? I tried to remember how the story ended. My mother told a few versions. Sometimes the warrior wandered forever until he became a ghost, a haunting. Sometimes he found his lady love, and they lived happily together. Nanny preferred that ending and that was how she told it.
This time, the story’s end was up to me.
How do you win the love of a monster? And was Hawk right? If I won the Sea Wolf’s favor, was I strong enough to love a monster in return?
Love did not matter. I would open my legs for him tonight. Again. I thought of how well he lay between my legs last night and blushed. He certainly had skill. Maybe tonight would be no hardship.
A growl outside the window, and a scraping sound. I straightened. The Sea Wolf was coming.
The blond head and shaggy white pelt appeared first. He pulled himself through the window and when he rose, the room shrank. He was already naked. Under a pelt I’d wrapped up in for warmth, I was the same. It would save time, and I wouldn’t end up with another ripped dress.
I cleared my throat and found my voice. “Mead?” I asked.
The hulk remained in shadows, and still. Only two glowing eyes marked his presence.
“There’s meat also. I can go down and get Hawk to bring more—”
A thunderous growl crashed over me.
Don’t speak of Hawk, then. Or talk of leaving the tower.
But it was too late. The mountain came to me, hunched and sure-footed as a hunter. He moved like an animal. I forced myself not to flee. I walked slowly from the hearth to the bed, allowing him to herd me away from the door or the window. No escape. I could’ve told him I wasn’t going to run, but if I said the word run, he would pounce. The Wolf with me tonight was not a man but a wild thing.
I backed up to bed, setting my hand on his chest when he crowded me.
“Easy. I’m here. I’m yours.”
Another growl. I gasped, not in fear, but at the pleasure knifing through my loins.
The Wolf grabbed my hips and set me against him. I got a good feel of his cock. Monster indeed.
I tilted my head back, baring my throat. Allowing him to kiss me or rip my life out. The ultimate submission.
He lowered his great head, scenting up the line of my neck to my ear. He could kill me now. At least it would be quick.
“Take me then,” I whispered, not knowing whether I asked for death or pleasure. “Freely offered.”
He bit me, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to make me gasp. A splash of shock like cold water. The mark throbbed above my pulse.
He lifted me against him, his fingers digging into my buttocks and upper thighs, and rubbed me against him, up and down. Little sparks tingled between us. I clutched his shoulders, gazing into his golden eyes. His long, thick cock, trapped between us, rubbed between my slick folds. I wrapped my legs around his waist, rocking my hips against him as he held me aloft. His muscles were iron under my hands.
He smiled when I shuddered against him. I rode the white-hot edge of orgasm, my calves tugging him closer. Before my climax was spent, he lay me down, drew apart my legs and surged between them. His cock breached my entrance, stretching me, almost too big to fit. He growled and forced himself inside, shattering my first climax and sending me higher. I writhed, half trying to impale myself, half trying to get away.
He held my hips and waited. When I calmed, he rocked back and forth slowly, each stroke going deeper. I stared down at the cock thicker than my forearm disappearing inside me.
Large hands lifted my bottom, tilting my hips, ensuring his cock dragged over a secret spot above my entrance. I clawed at his forearms, desperate for him to stop, to never stop, to break me apart. He did not slow or waver. Nor did he speed his thrusts, even when I screamed curses at him. He laughed in my face.
Climax after climax took me. Only when I relaxed backwards, limp and sated, did he bend over me, brace on one arm, and pound me into the bed. His final thrusts made me bounce. I expected him to root deep and shout his triumph, but he pulled out at the last, and spilled all over. Thick white seed covered my breasts and belly.
At least I won’t bear a child.
Looking down at the mess he made, he seemed pleased. I rolled my eyes.
With a grunt, he took my wrist and directed me to rub the pearly essence into my skin. I sighed and complied.
He strutted to the hearth to get the mead. His cock still stood out from his body, straight and proud. But he let me drink a goodly amount of mead, and wash my hands clean, though he wouldn’t let me wash my body.
I sat in his lap and played with his long, tawny locks of hair.
“You smell like the sea,” I whispered.
He grunted and palmed my breast.
I wrinkled my nose at my sticky state. “And I smell like you.”
Another grunt. This one sounded almost like “good.”
Then, with a gentle but firm grip, he guided my face between his legs.
He took me three more times, once standing by the hearth, my leg propped up in his hold. Once bent over the bed. Then with me on all fours, his length spearing me from behind. My back was covered with his seed just like my front by the time he let us simply lie together and rest.
I was glad I hadn’t been a virgin. Besides the pesky issue of blood, I wouldn’t have known how to handle such a warrior. I was still swimming beyond my depth. Lost in the Sea Wolf’s territory.
The Sea Wolf settled behind me. It was his turn to play with my hair, use it to tickle my ear. I was too tired to do more than half-smile.
The fire had almost died when he leaned close to whisper something. “Ægir.”
It took me a moment to understand. “Ægir?” I repeated the unfamiliar word.
He grunted assent.
“Your name?�
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“Mmm.”
“Ægir,” I murmured. “Very well.” I rolled to my side, smiling fully when he curled around me. I’d taken his mark and his scent, and he gave me his name.
It was a start.
The morning sun spilled across Ægir’s sprawled form, turned his hair into a glowing crown. I extricated myself from his hold and tiptoed to the water bucket. I needed to wash, badly. Ægir might not appreciate me clean as much as he did when I was covered in his seed, but I preferred to be less sticky. And if he wanted to spend the morning pleasuring me and spilling his seed over me again... well, I would not protest. Much. I was stiff but not as sore as I’d imagined I would be.
A smile hovered over my lips as I bent to wash my face, but it fell away when I saw the thick mist hovering over the still liquid.
Trembling, I stretched my hand over the water. The mist parted and the island where I’d lived my whole life appeared. Fire danced in the image. The village was burning. The largest building—my father’s hall—was destroyed. The roof black and fallen in, the windows smoking. Bodies strewn about the yard, left to rot. Outside the still room, a body lay in the wreckage. Nanny’s eyes stared sightless at the sky. The only thing that moved was a raven, circling high above in silent vigil for the dead.
“No,” I gasped and dashed my hand into the water. The ripples spread but the image remained. “No!”
Ægir was at my side in an instant. I flung myself away from him, fighting when he grabbed me. “Let me go,” I shrieked. “I must go save them! It cannot happen, please—”
My cries mingled with his growls. He wrestled me to the bed where I curled, sobbing. His large hands roamed over me, searching for a wound.
“I’m not hurt. I’m not hurt!” I forced his hands down, swallowing against the knots in my throat. “It was a vision. They’re dead, all dead. Or will be.”
Dòmhnall would blame my father for losing him a bride. A fantastical story about mists and an ancient warrior would not deter him. He would have his revenge, and lay waste to the island in his mad rush to conquer.
