By the Horns Page 17

  “I’ll be the death of you, roughly translated? Hah, but tis just the beginning,” I joked, with a wink.

  “Perhaps,” he said slowly, placing more of those small, close mouthed kisses to my face. He sounded so somber, so grave I almost wondered at it.

  No matter. Soon we’d be on our way, on to better things.

  To love, life, and new beginnings!

  Something chose that moment to skitter across my foot and I jerked, squealing, to stumble back.

  Calm as you please, my pair bond pulled a knife from one of the sacks he’d tossed over his shoulder, stuffing them with odds and ends and I didn’t even know, and threw it. It thunked, sending the beastie daring to startle a few years off my life to the great thereafter.

  “Better?” he asked, leaving me gaping after him to retrieve his kill. With barely withheld mirth, he grinned, lifting up his catch by its gnarled tail.

  “Oooh, heh-heh, no, no, no, no.” I pointed at the six legged monster possum-porcu-pig-rat, face scrunching up in disgust. “Keep that thing away from me,” I mumbled through the hand covering my mouth.

  Thick, wide, flat teeth flashed white in the dark. He gave the creature a not so subtle shake. “A proper cleaning and a skinning, he’ll fix right up.”

  “Ah... fix it right up for what? An ugly hat?” At his laugh I had to ask, “What are you planning on doing with it, you know, besides burning it to ashes and sending it back to the pit it came crawling out of?”

  When his brows wiggled playfully and he licked his lips, I shook my head. “It looks diseased,” I blurted in a horrified whisper.

  Turning the creature so it was looking him in the eyes, his lips pulled impossibly wider, until he managed to look cheeky doing it. “Supper.”

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  It was late by the time we’d finished going through every section of this main cavern of a room, my bonded giving up the fight, for once, and accepting my help.

  “Come.” A hand gently took mine, leading me, numb fingers, face, and all, to a small passageway on the far left of the wall pockets we’d just emptied. I was stumbling as I walked, eyes burning as I struggled to hold my heavy lids open.

  “Where are we going?” I half-muttered, scowling. His thumb began to stroke my chilled flesh and I shivered. “You’re always so warm,” I told him, snuggling closer.

  Three stuffed sacks filled with things he insisted we needed over one wide shoulder, he led me down a small pathway he had to turn, angling his body, his bags of goodies out in front of him, to fit through. It was a tight fit for him but just fine for me, my small pack and smaller frame easily making it through.

  When offering to carry something, help lessen his burden, proved futile, I shrugged it off and allowed myself to be led docilely along, trailing behind him.

  He liked to take charge and I couldn’t say I minded following—following him, at least; anyone else and I’d have protested. Thoughts of Thessen trying to do the same and the argument that would have ensued, until he’d inevitably given up and allowed me my way, I had to give my beast credit, he knew how to hold his own. I liked that about him, respected him for it.

  “Where are we going?” I whispered, glowering when he hushed me and continued on. Alright, fine.

  It was too dark to see much of anything, but he seemed like he knew where he was going. I hated the dark, the unknown even more. My smaller form crowded closer.

  “Just a ways up ahead,” he promised, as if sensing my apprehension.

  “You’ve been here before.” Many times, if I had to guess, the way he instinctively knew which way to go in this loop of roots and vines creeping up the walls. How big was this tree, I had to wonder, as we drew deeper within it. Like the steps to a dance, my mate just knew, like they were well memorized. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation to him. Right, so this was his home.

  “Yes, but until recently it’s been a long time,” he said finally.

  I should just follow him and let him tell me what he needed to in his own time, a part of me scolded, feeling like a fishwife for hounding him since we dropped into here, but the other part of me couldn’t be contained. What was I to do?

  I couldn’t say it would hurt me to just go along for once... Eh, what did I have to lose?

  My free hand hooked onto the loop of the thick strap he’d attached to his waist, settling it over his kilt. It was one of many things he’d dug up, pulled from some place up high, or unearthed from some dark corner of the main chamber. If this wasn’t his home away from home I felt like it could be, should he decide we should stay—his backup plan? A short, bronze colored broadsword, attached to said belt, was sheathed at his hip. I knew I’d find a dagger in each of his boots, fit for a Minotaur’s hands, and a bow was slung over one of his thick shoulders. I’d been watching him like a hawk, observing his every move until I wondered if he could feel my eyes on him, sense the heat of my gaze. If he did, he either didn’t mind or didn’t let on.

  When my fingers brushed his bared flesh he let out his pleased grunt. I did it again, pressing a little hard. Another affection laced grunt. He craved affection without prompting as much as he gave it. Spontaneity seemed to be the key with him—just go for it. How similar we were, and yet so very different. My neck craned as I watched those horns of his as he moved. In some ways, so very utterly different.

  He was safe with me, I hoped he’d realize, maybe let down that wall he kept shooting up to slam in my face. And I knew, deep down in my gut, I was safe with him. Everything was going to be alright.

  My lips pulled into a smile in the dark.

  I had my knight in dark, ready to spill blood armor, ready to do battle for his maiden fair, even if I was a bloodthirsty wench in my own right—just not when it came to skittering, dog sized rodents with fangs as long as half the length of my pinky finger, and a penchant for hissing at people—as evidenced by the creature he’d slaughtered that dared skitter across my boots.

  Granted, he’d said it was a good catch, nothing out of the ordinary for a big, woolly Tauran, fully intending to gut, skin, and serve the ugly, spikey-spined, plump, furry abomination up for dinner. Not quite what I’d had in mind for a bloodthirsty warrior ready to do battle for me, but I was swooning like a maiden at a joust, nonetheless.

  “You’ve stopped,” my horned companion pointed out.

  “Yes,” I said simply.

  “We’re not there yet.”

  “Oh, right, sorry. Woolgathering. Continue on, sir knight.”

  “What?” he blurted, about to resume our little adventure, stumbling over his boats for feet at my silly slip.

  My face smacked his back as I made to take a big step forward. “What?” I mumbled into his furry back.

  “What?” Apparently it bared repeating.

  Unwilling to admit what I’d just called him, I unpeeled my face from his hot, slightly damp flesh, scratching at my scalp absently. “What were we talking about again?” I lied, feigning ignorance.

  Why he sounded so agitated by the moniker, I wouldn’t know. Maybe knights were bad in Tauran. I made it a point to file that information away for later.

  “You’d make a wonderful knight. Got a man-skirt and a mighty sword and everything,” I just had to mutter, in my defense.

  “Knights are dead. No more a knight than the next blaggard, and it’s a kilt, woman. A kilt! No’ a man-skirt, or crotchless short pants, ye-” My hand was yanked, sending me jerking forward. Then my arm was lifted forcefully, wide teeth nipping the flesh of my knuckles as he growled, before he kissed the spot. “Wee, wingless tease of a tart.”

  “Tart?” Yipping to snort out a laugh, unable to free myself, I laughed. “Flirt,” I teased. I imagine a weaker woman would be pissing herself. I couldn’t help but grin.

  “Save it for camp. See you who’s teasin’ then.” And with that solemn promise in place, he dragged my giggling arse along, snorting and grunting at my goofy bum.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “It’s dark,”
I whispered. The hour was late. I was beyond exhausted. I could only guess how tired he must be feeling.

  “Come.” A wide palm slipped into mine, fingers curling over mine.

  It didn’t matter how many times he did it, it always felt right, soothing me instantly.

  We were by no means a fairytale, as far from one as this place was a palace, but he was kind and caring in his own way, and I trusted him. Barely known each other for... huh, I couldn’t rightly say. A day? Maybe more? I had no concept of time anymore, and as insane as it sounded, I trusted him implicitly.

  And he’s mine, all mine. I’d follow my beast, my paired bond, to the ends of the world—this one, mine, or the next. It was more than I could have ever asked for.

  “We’ll camp here for the night.” A hand nudged my shoulder. “Here. Sit. I’ll build a fire.” Assisting me to the spot he must’ve pointed out, his hands on my shoulders urging me to sit, I gripped his wrist when he would have pulled back. “Addie?”

  “Your name. I don’t even know your name.” Ridiculous. I’d grown so used to calling him Minotaur I hadn’t even- A small giggle escaped me and I shook my head. “I’ve come so easily to calling you mine I never thought to ask your name.”

  “Then that’s all you need,” he tossed back. “Call for what’s yours and I’ll always come.”

  “Fool,” I muttered, letting him go, but shook my head and smiled. My heart sang and I could have shouted and danced, had my throat not felt so sore and my legs not been aching so.

  The sounds of him moving around reached my ears. A wad of material was tossed my way. I couldn’t grab it fast enough, dragging it to my lap. My teeth had begun to chatter, click-clacking noisily. The material was thick and warm—the blanket.

  “It’s mine,” he admitted. “It’ll be a moment. Need to gather a few things first. I won’t go far. It’s safe. Lie down and try to get some rest while I set up, arrange our supplies.”

  Wrapping the material around me, I used my pack as a pillow. “Am I to think of you as my Minotaur until one of us passes? Is that to be the way of it?”

  Again he hesitated, which was strange, but everything was so new—well, a bit of a garbled mess. What was a name to a beastman, his kind, I wondered.

  “Tauran,” he said softly, his voice sounding off farther down the cave.

  “Tauran?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and yawing.

  “My kind.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” My teeth continued to chatter but I ignored it. There was a chill in the air I just couldn’t chase away. And now I was starting to speak my thoughts out loud, apparently.

  “Minotaur-mine?” I asked.

  Footsteps, from a considerable distance away, moved closer. “Yes.”

  “You’re not leaving me, are you?”

  “Of course not!” He sounded furious I’d even asked, which made absolutely no sense. He was proving prone to these strange fits of pique, but I was willing to forgive them. For now. How easily I found him offended by some silly thing or another, yet I grow bold and he likes it? No, I’d had the right of it earlier, he was the crazy one.

  “I don’t need a fire,” I murmured softly. “I just need you.”

  “What?” my pair bond croaked out, voice cracking.

  “I said I need you.” Closing my eyes, I laid my head back down.

  I knew the moment he was upon me, his quiet steps sending leaves and other debris skittering as he approached. The sound of something heavy, material, a sack like mine, dropping alongside my head, had me glancing up at him in the dark.

  He came up behind me, sliding in beneath the blanket. More material was draped over us. “I’ve a fur and a cloak. Had them in here for keeping,” he explained, cuddling in close behind me, wrapping his arms around me.

  I turned to him then, burrowing closer into his embrace. “You’re so warm.” I snuggled in closer, wiggling until my fingers were wedged beneath his forearms and his chest.

  “You’re hands are like ice,” he grumbled, yet picked them up to warm them in his, blowing on them. Warm steam, not so warm as to burn, gently blew across my frozen flesh. Sliding the blankets over my head, his nostrils began to smoke like a chimney stack. Leaving the top open, he blew the warmth inside my cocoon.

  “Must be all that fur you have to keep you warm,” I said on a laugh.

  He snorted but pulled me closer, resting his chin atop my head.

  “Good night, husband-mine,” I whispered, lifting my head, tipping it back to place a kiss to his stubbly chin.

  “Kvigor.”

  “Hmm?” I murmured sleepily. I was already drifting off.

  “My name.”

  “Your name?” I blinked, nuzzling his chest with my cheek. I loved the sound of his heavy heartbeat.

  “Yes.”

  “Kvigor. Kuh-vee-gore?” I tested the word out several times, deciding I liked the way it rolled off my tongue.

  He nodded in the dark, his chin brushing my scalp as his head bobbed. His horn scraped the ground but it didn’t seem to bother him.

  “I like it.” leaning in closer, I pressed another kiss to the fur on his chest, liking the way the simple action made him shiver. “Sounds strong and masculine. Does it have a meaning?”

  His teeth clacked and he made a noise. “It was my grand daq’s name. Means obstinate will.”

  “I like it.” My fingers dug into his fur. “It suits you.”

  “Sleep,” he ordered. His hand slid to my lower back, pressing me close.

  “Yes, sir.”

  That hand slid lower, over my rump, giving it a playful tap.

  I laughed but settled down. I had everything I needed, right here.

  What more could I possibly want?

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  I woke with a start. Alone.

  My immediate reaction was fear, swiftly followed by panic. He wouldn’t just leave me like that, would he?

  “Kvigor?” Wiggling out of the blanket and cloak bundled around me, I sat up, shivering at the chill in the air.

  The smell of smoke filled my nostrils, and something cooking, a small fire off to my right surrounded by those weird glowing rocks just starting to go out. Small, black and blue striped fish, gutted, skewered on sticks, sat propped up by rocks, a makeshift spit with the alien critter skinned and slowly turning crispy, cooking over the dying flame.

  Movement caught my attention and I jerked, sighing in relief when a familiar figure came into view.

  Thick pelt draped over his shoulders, snow covering his head like a silly, pointy hat, icicles forming on his horns, he glanced around, found me watching him, and his lips tipped up into one of his odd smiles.

  I welcomed the sight of it.

  “Coming down out there,” he called cheerfully, a complete turnaround from the melancholy I’d thought I’d sensed last night. Well, I assumed it was day now.

  Sitting up straight, I stretched.

  “Got more wood,” he gestured with the thick bundle in his arms, “there’s some in the back, should you need to feed the fire.” His chin jerked towards one of the many dark cubby-like spaces around us. Walking over to the spot he’d indicated, he relieved himself of his burden, fat branches, snapped in half, twigs of all shapes and sizes, anything he could easily collect.

  Coming back with a thick hunk of wood, he set it on the fire. Kindling followed, clumps of the crumbling material from the main cavern, dried out moss and small, reed-like sticks. He used the heated breath he could produce from his nostrils to fan the flame back to life.

  “You don’t mind, do you, being stuck here with me?” Thick eyebrows wiggled and he made a show of looking around. “Be snowed right in before you know it, clean past the base of this old thing’s,” he gestured at the gutted out tree hideaway we’d claimed for the night, “trunk. Sure we could find things to do.”

  “Does it snow for long?” The thought of living in a bull-men filled ice land had me biting at my lip. I’m a foreigner in an alien land. It was a wee bit overwhel
ming. This space he’d carved out for us was more than fine to me. At least this way I could try and acclimate before I was introduced to more bull beasts.

  When he got a good look at me his smile fell. “What? Addie-mine, what’s wrong? What is it?”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head, but he wouldn’t leave it at that. I almost admitted I loved him for it right then.

  “No.” His voice hardened. “Tell me.”

  “Am I going to make it here? I mean,” my hands lifted in a helpless gesture, “can a human survive these kinds of conditions?”

  Kvigor came up to me then, hands on his hips as he stood over me. “If your kind can survive the Mad Queen’s reign and manage to banish her from your world entirely, I’d say you can handle the cold, eh?”

  Frowning, I blinked up at him. “Mad Queen? Banishment? But we didn’t! I- She left us. Or... well, that’s what I was told.” My brow furrowed. “I, we, my people don’t really know what happened.”

  My pair bond plopped down next to me, making me laugh as he shook his horns at me, dusting me with that wet, cold, fluffy white stuff. Picking up a pinch of it in my hand, I flicked it at him. A thick arm wrapped around me, pulling me close. “Ah, is that the way the wingless have been telling it? Not the way I heard it.”

  Mirth danced in his eyes, but he was half-serious.

  “Oh?” Scooting until I could fit my body between his thick legs, curling close, opening my cocoon to offer it to him as well, I laid my head on his chest. He was the cold one at the moment, though not nearly as easily chilled as I’d have been traipsing around out there.

  Shaking out of his pelt, he twisted, flapping it out to let it fall behind us, laying it flat to dry out. Once done, he scooped me up, allowing me to burrow against him, offering him my warmth for once. My head found his heartbeat, heavy and steady.

  “Tell me,” I murmured, already feeling lulled.

  “Going to pass out on me halfway through?”

  I loved this side of him. A soft hearted beastman, just for me. He wasn’t like human men, but I was glad of it. He was mine, and he was better.

  “Perhaps,” I got out on a yawn, “but I think I’ve earned a long rest, and don’t deny you’d enjoy telling me of this tale again.”