By the Horns Read online

  Had he told this Suzaela the same? Claimed her as well?

  What hasn’t he told me?

  More crunching, shuffling, the sound of muddy soil being trampled through.

  My pair bond was frozen in place, his horns stuck, tangled with the bush we’d taken for cover, head at a funny angle. It would have been comical, the berries on the bush dangling like bulbs from a Hapsyule tide gifting tree.

  Gaze intent on the male bellowing his name, his eyelids lowered until tiny slits of ruby remained, flushed so deep with shimmering red they literally glowed. His nose flexed, pinching shut, forcing his smoking nostrils to cease.

  He couldn’t move, half exposed as he was, unless he wanted to completely clue the dark brown Minotaur stomping around our hiding spot and right into view as to his whereabouts.

  A snarling snort left the brawny bull lumbering about. He was short and squat, with wide shoulders and long arms, no more than a head or half taller than me. In comparison to my male, he was... boxy, stumpy. Unlike Kvigor’s shorter coat, he looked built for the winter, long, curly mop atop his head thinning out to a semi curly coat that made him look even bulkier. Letting my gaze wander, I noted a shorter, more squared, darker snout and fatter, shorter yet no less impressive, set of fat horns. The base of his horns were dark like the rest of him, a creamy ivory at the middle and up the curves of each, tipping with amber at the very end.

  Kvigor’s searcher was just shy of the Minotaur version of a water buffalo, a woolly-woolly Minotaur. A wiry clump of beard length hair gathered at his chin, trailing down his jawline, the quill looking thickness sticking out at funny angles on his face lightening to a soft brown that matched the sun lightened tips of the floppy mop atop his head. His hair was parted off to the side to expose two large, round eyes set far enough back in his head so as not to look bug-eyed, yet lend them that hint of bull beast, cow face.

  I almost snorted aloud at my thoughts. Cow face. Hah! I’d be saving that for later, I thought, sparing my companion a disparaging glance.

  The beast searching him out had stern features, what fur there was on his muzzle tipped with bits of silver. So he was older, or maybe I was assigning human attributes to the more bull-like parts of him?

  This searcher—hunter, it felt like—his hands and feet were what had my mind stalling. Cloven hooves. His feet weren’t... feet. Not by footed human, uhm, feet standards. His legs were very bull-like until they hit his thighs, where they filled out, thickening until the heavily muscled limbs surpassed even that of Kvigor’s. Thick, fused fingers, more bovine in shape and appearance, with an obvious thumb, the pinky and ring finger fused together to form one massive digit with thick, knotted knuckles, and it was the same with the forefinger and middle.

  Just like my male’s, if I was still allowed to call him that and think of him as such, his fingers had the thick black nails that curved back towards their fingertips and same three knuckles to each finger.

  This Tauran was definitely some kind of warrior. Scars riddled his body, across his chest, the pink, puckered skin visible even through all that thick, curling fur, long healed gashes leaving stripes where hair no longer grew. An old sword that had seen better days at his back, a thick strip of tanned animal hide lay crosswise across his back, secured it. The hilt, gleaming gold and silver with a touch of bronze, had me eyeing the male more closely. The design on the intricately decorated piece almost matched my knives, almost, but this bit of metal felt empty, I sensed, unlike my daggers.

  Beady looking, they were so narrowed in concentration, squinting, glowing gold eyes passed over our spot several times, right over the tops of Kvigor’s barely hidden horns, his thick jaw bunching as it clenched. Those horns could pass for branches from the right angle, I hoped.

  “Any sign of our great chief’s predecessor?” A gravelly, hoarse voice called out. A soft grey and bone white colored Tauran, his hair long and stringy like a yak’s, shaggy, lumbered into view, towering over the shorter male to grunt down at him.

  “No.” The dark, brawny Tauran grunted.

  “Told Bainan and Vachel more tales.” The tall Minotaur was a giant among beast men. I had to crane my neck to get a good look at him.

  “Of the labyrinth and some ridiculous quest,” a third voice chimed in, “probably trotted off, got lost, ended up gored by some quad horned beast of yore, no doubt,” the male finished with a flourish, giving a mock roar, pretending himself a monster with teeth, arms outstretched, to jump between the two males as if to attack.

  “He’s a fool,” soft grey grumbled, shifting the gigantic battle axe strapped to his back, perfect for his size, to his opposite shoulder. Wide strips of hide were wrapped around each wrist, tied in an intricate knot, some sort of charm attached to the one on his left hand.

  Lifting a meaty paw, his fingers modeled after the dark-furred Minotaur’s, grey shoved his open hand into the back of dark blond Minotaur with bright blue eyes who’d popped in, right in the middle of his back, sending the blond one tumbling head over arse. The bow and quiver over the slender male’s shoulder fared better than the dark blond himself did, the yak-man catching it as the blond fell.

  “And so are you,” soft grey retorted with a snort, turning, his hooves stomping the ground to kick back, one and then the other, sending clumps of dampened terra right at the downed male.

  “Ack! Yhem! Rotten- Dirty- Old- Bastard!”

  Another couple of clumps flew before soft grey stepped forward, joining his golden-eyed comrade in his search. With a snort, yak-man tossed the bow and quiver at the blond, snickering when the blond slipped in the muddy terra, trying to catch it, rolling right back into it.

  “Wet my bow! Broke an arrow!” the obviously younger male cried. “Know how long it takes me to make a single bloody one, eh? Do ye? Forever... mangy... decrepit... agin’...”

  This Yhem’s upper lip curled up in a sneer, but when he turned his back on the caterwauling youth a wicked smile lit his taciturn features.

  Scanning the forest, dark-furred, short, and broody didn’t care to comment, a grunt his only response. He didn’t strike me as much of a talker. “Come,” dark-furred and stocky said, giving me the impression he was the leader of this band. “If he is here,” he said overloud, his words just below a bellow, “he’d do well to find his way back to the village, where he’s needed!”

  “Needed?” Yehm snorted, but quickly shut his trap at the look his dark-furred companion leveled on him. “Come now, Ric. Was only teasin’. Boy’s a cloud in his head away from day-walk-dreaming and tumblin’ off a cliff. Do him a bit of good to get lost and have your arse find him, drag his stubborn hide home. Humility. Needs it by the bucket.”

  “And what message would that send?” Short, dark, and beleaguered fairly snarled. “To the villagers? The warriors? Who will follow a Tauran who has to be hunted down and dragged back?”

  “No’ a good one, which is why it shoulda been you, my friend.” Yhem winced but the words had already left his mouth.

  Something flashed in the dark-furred male’s eyes before he forced a huge puff of smoke from his nostrils, hands fisting at his sides until it looked like it hurt, and slowly, like tipping the lid atop to slowly let the steam from the kettle, he relaxed, those magnetizing molten gold brimming eyes faded to a dull amber.

  “Yhem?” dark-furred muttered sternly, a hint of warning in his voice.

  “Huh?”

  “Ya e’er shut it? If not, I suggest you learn now.” And with that the male stormed ahead. “Before the moons ascend, Gor,” he shouted, the sound echoing through the forest. “Willna be likin’ what happens, should I have to come after.”

  Birds rustled a tree, startled by his outburst, flocking in a wild mass of pinks and blues to a safer spot. Horned birds! With spiked beaks. Gasping, delighted, I caught myself almost too late. Baby furry dragon birds, with feathers and scales!

  Bainan, coming up behind his group as they all started back the way they’d came, glanced over his shoulder,
pausing too long over my spot.

  “Bainan! Come!” dark-furred called after him.

  With a shrug of his wide but wiry shoulders, the dark blond Tauran, his fur much like Kvigor’s, short but thick, close to his skin, if more on the tan side than snow white, turned and ran to catch up.

  Once he was sure they were well and truly gone, Kvigor let out a long breath. When I would have opened my mouth, he shook his head. “Not now. In time, I promise you, but not now.”

  “Swear?” I asked after a long moment.

  Untangling his horns, he thumped hard to the ground beside me. Wrapping his arms around me, I allowed it, needed it, even if only to fool myself for just a little while longer. My heart wouldn’t quit pounding. “On my honor,” he whispered into my hair.

  “I’m scared,” I wasn’t ashamed to admit. My hands shaking would have given me away anyway.

  Instead of assuring me everything would be alright, he pulled me closer.

  Gulping, I turned into his embrace, wedging my hands under his arms. Warm hands stroked my back, his cheek nuzzling along my forehead.

  “Kvigor?”

  His answer was a grunt.

  “Are we safe?”

  “I wanted to take you somewhere safe, where nothing will happen to you.” There was a pause, his hands slowing so he could pull me in for a harsh squeeze. “Adelric knew I was there. He was allowing me the chance to present myself.”

  “He did?”

  “He’s part of the Chief’s guard, Ekodar’s best soldier.”

  “And he just left us here?”

  “Left me here,” he muttered almost petulantly.

  My eyes widened at that. “What do we do now? Are we going to the village? Isn’t there still that place you spoke of, the special place, not that far from here? We could-”

  “It won’t matter. He’s aware of it. We’d be buying days, a week at most.”

  Damn. Damn, damn, damn. “Better to face it now,” I agreed. Whatever was going on, it couldn’t truly be that bad, could it?”

  “Addie-mine?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The way I feel about you, I- I care deeply for you.” When I looked to him he swallowed thickly. “I do. I don’t care how little time has passed or our differences. I feel it, know it, and this, our marks,” he held up our hands, “this was meant to be. The Abandoned’s crest, the mark of the beast, doesn’t just show up on anyone, it was a sign. We, you and me, this was destiny.”

  “You sure you didn’t eat any more of those funny mushrooms?” I teased, glancing down at the rod tenting his man-skirt.

  “See?” I didn’t grimace inwardly when he smiled wide, warmly, a point for me, his hand coming up to brush across my cheek. That thick hand cupped my face, bringing ours close enough he could breathe steam across my brow. Right after, his nose pressed to the spot, wet and cool.

  “Is that the Tauran’s way of saying I love you- uh, erm, I mean, showing a deep sign of affection?” I teased, closing my eyes as he continued to do so.

  “Or this,” he mock growled quietly, his hand going to my mouth to muffle my squeal right as his tongue snuck out to swipe right across my face.

  “Kuhpeegur,” I mumbled into his palm.

  “Say it again,” his deep voice rumbled. Hovering over me, he turned, flipping me onto my back, pressing me into the ground. His weight fell upon me then, his hips pinning mine, his free hand coming up to grasp both of mine, forcing them over my head. I was helpless, at his mercy. I didn’t feel trapped in the least, not with him.

  His hand lifted slightly and he grinned as he smiled down at me.

  “Is Suzaela a lover?” I blurted, my thoughts circling back to that, no matter how badly I wanted to play, cocooned in our bubble, pretending the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, a cannonball sized lump that had me trembling in my boots, was merely nerves.

  “Do we have to do this now?” My paired bond made to sit up, but paused, scowl firmly in place.

  “Would it help if I mumbled your name again?” I spat sarcastically.

  “So much venom loaded in such a tiny thing,” he muttered, his finger dipping to play at my thick bottom lip, brushing the end of my tongue when I parted my lips, ready to nip his finger.

  My teeth bit his palm instead, my tongue following after to soothe the sting.

  “Viper,” he yelped quietly, yanking his hand back, shaking it out with a laugh.

  “Who is she?” I wasn’t going to drop this.

  Kvigor stared down at me so long I wondered if he was going to ignore my question altogether. Like hell. Finally, he sat up, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She’s my mother.”

  “Beg pardon?” My anger bubble burst, taking with it all the spiteful, horrible things I wanted to say to him.

  “Suzaela... she’s my mother.” Kvigor’s face bunched as he spat, his wide, wet nostrils sucking inward to puff back out.

  “And she hired a bunch of warrior men to come find you?”

  “No,” he said slowly. “That was Ekodar’s doing.”

  “But why?”

  “To punish me,” he chuffed out, sitting back to lean against the thick base of the berry bush with a huff. “Embarrassment for disobedience.” Picking up a leaf, he twirled the orange, white veined, pointed tipped oval, letting it go to watch it fall, then picking it back up to repeat the process.

  When I just stared at him, he dropped the leaf.

  “Addie... there is much to tell, and my plan, what I’d wanted to do, wanted for us- I-” His head lifted and he stared at what was left of the day. His gaze dipped and he glared at the ground. “There are things I’ve had to do and I- This isn’t what I’d wanted.”

  “I understand. It’s okay.” Sitting up, I crawled towards him. “Kvigor?” My hands cupped his furry face, brushing along the sides of his cheeks lovingly. Leaning in close, I pressed my nose against the fur between his eyes, blowing air through my nose to cascade across the space slowly.

  A happy rumble filled his chest at the gesture and he nuzzled into my right palm.

  Thick arms wove around me. Eyes back to maroon, as if they’d drained of any and all fight, he sighed resignedly, squeezing his lids shut tight. “I don’t want to do this,” he whispered, his grip on my back growing bruising. “I couldn’t bear it when you hate me.”

  “Then we won’t,” I murmured, stroking my fingers through the short tuft of hair between his ears. “And I could never hate you.”

  Pressing his face into my nape, he took a few deep breaths. “You don’t understand,” he said softly, inhaling a lungful of my scent, “I don’t think there’s any way around it. This is something I have to do.”

  “Your deal with one of the fae?” I whispered, the pit of dread in my stomach rising until bile filled my throat.

  “If I could do it all over again...”

  “Would it really be so bad?” I reasoned.

  “You don’t understand,” was all he’d say.

  He was right—I didn’t. Soon enough, though, I was going to find out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I could hardly pick out anything that might give Kvigor such cause for alarm. From a distance, aside from design, the huts sprinkling the landscape just up the way could have belonged to any other. Yet looks could be deceiving, a fact I knew all too well. Those bugs in my stomach were gathering to mob, pitchforks and torches at the ready. I thought I might be sick.

  “Things are going to be... different,” Kvigor warned, causing my steps to slow and the low hum in my throat, a desperate attempt at distraction, to falter.

  Different? “Are there a lot of rules?” I wasn’t being smarmy when I asked, merely curious, trying to figure out what exactly he meant. He’d been frighteningly short with me since we’d picked ourselves up off the forest floor and headed to this place he calls home.

  Feagmunt, a small but thriving village of Tavros. One of many, the way he’d briefly explained it. Feagmunt, what a horrible name. Sounded like a fungus.
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br />   “Some,” he muttered curtly. “They mustn’t be ignored.”

  “Right. Okay.” Was that all? I could do this! If it meant we could stay together, what was yet another crapsack of a village if there was someone to commiserate with? Or run off together to a new village.

  What did Kvigor do, I wondered. Was he a farmer? A baker? No... a blacksmith! He had the strength for it. Hm... a warrior? A hunter? A guard? A- Wait, that dark-furred beastie had said something about a successor or something. Was Kvigor working for him, them?

  “You will promise me this, and this will be the last I ask of you,” my somber pair bond ordered.

  “Uhm, that sounds... final.” Scrubbing at the gooseflesh suddenly pimpling my arms, I laughed nervously. “I’m not above admitting you’re sort of frightening me.”

  No reassurances were to come.

  “Promise me,” he snapped, his hands flexing at his sides. He looked for all the world like he wanted to punch something, pulverize it into the ground. Surely not me?

  Tossing my hands up, I took a step back. “Alright! Alright! I promise! Jeesh!”

  “I have your word?”

  “I, yes, what’s the big hullaballoo? I agreed, didn’t I?”

  We were yelling, our first real fight.

  I didn’t realize the village was upon us, the first of several huts only feet away. Turning, he faced me, staring down at me with the strangest look I’d yet to see on the bull beast.

  “Kvigor, I-”

  Gripping my shoulders, he hefted me up, dragging me towards a point just outside the village’s edge, pulling me along past it, through bushes and sticky briars.

  “I don’t- what are you-”

  “I’ll have your word. You’ll agree to everything I say, no arguments. This is very important.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Giving my shoulders a jarring shake, his meaty hands digging in, I had my answer.