Grizzly (9 page)

Turning his head to peer out the window, he saw the raven gliding high in the sky, watching, waiting. It was a reassuring sign. Help was near.

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G
rizzelda swayed with the movement of the donkey below her. Travelling the miles through the elaborate landscape of Malandria and the realm always had its reward. The changing of seasons sent a ripple effect through her. Nerves settled in the edges of her consciousness as she came to the realization the daughters were awakening. Spring froze the melted tundra she had travelled from until only tiny wisps of what was peeked through the green landscape.

Sorscha has come home.

Which could only mean one thing.

Her men had failed.

Failed with the snow Queen, and now failed with the ruler of the Earth beneath their feet.

A low, rumbling growl ebbed as she passed through the invisible barrier that led to her realm. As the puddles of reality shifted, so did she.

Much like a nightmare in a fairy tale story, Grizzelda created a brilliant distraction for the ones that hunted her true person. Sizzling heat radiated from her core, out to the fingertips. The grizzled old woman who appeared aboard the donkey shifted and morphed as she passed through into the dark forest beyond. Her limbs became smooth and ethereal, like a porcelain doll about to shatter. She became beautiful, painfully so. Her features bloomed into something out of a wistful dream. She would put most models to shame with her newly formed lithe frame, glowing sapphire eyes, and hair so white and long it kissed the ground as the donkey moved forward.

Without thought, she stepped from the creature as it walked. Her bare feet met the moist earth as she fixed her gaze on the shifting trees in the distance. Her black rags were now a gown of soft silk; it kissed and hugged the bare flesh beneath to the point of arousal. Her nipples peaked and almost stabbed through the almost-sheer fabric. She tiptoed through the forbidden forest.

No one dared travel to this place. They feared her guardians. Guardians that now came forward, each thrusting towards the sky at nearly eight foot in height. Their rough bark skin coated their limbs, a creation of dark embellishments. Their faces were masks of horror. Teeth, sharp and deadly, peeked out as they opened their mouths and mumbled their respect and bowed before her.

Grizzelda waved her hand dismissively in the air and they rose. Their heads were sharp like horns, only they spiked back. Bottomless pits filled the sockets of their eyes. They looked like devils hidden in the mist. Skeletal in their structure, yet their power rivaled that of Fergus’s most fierce warriors.

Let them come for me.

A lilting laugh carried into the darkness as she passed through the woods. Her home, her castle came into view as she walked as if floating over the world. The black pillars shot into the clouds and darkness that covered her land. The tops were coated in a layer of red, giving the appearance that they bled.

She was Dubheasa here.

The ruler.

The darkness.

Death followed and no one escaped if she claimed them in this place.

Many warrior elves had tried to thwart her as she passed through the barriers. All had failed. Now all resided as slaves to her dark whims.

She took the steps up to the huge double doors, which flung open as she came to the top. Osmaldis came storming out, his shoulders tense, his face a grim mask of disappointment.

She already knew they had failed. Dubheasa simply wanted him to explain himself. She adored watching her men squirm. Something arousing and wicked passed through her as their fear spiked. They knew punishment was forthcoming.

“My Queen, we have failed in the mission. The bear knew of our coming, and he passed through the portal we thought closed. None of the reports stated the family had a portal below the home.”

“Such incompetence,” she purred. “How I will enjoy turning your flesh to ribbons of red.”

Marok’s powerful form stopped dead in front of her. Dubheasa’s lingering gaze trailed up his scarred and grey figure. He was as powerful as they came. One of her greatest creations. Admiring his ripple of muscles, she met his dark orbs and watched as his lips twitched. Oh, how she would enjoy him later. Much later. After they won she would tie his hulking form to her table and torment him for hours before fucking him until she found her release. His dick pressed through the tight leathers he wore for pants. The corner of her mouth quirked and she passed around him, flowing easily.

“You disappointment me, Marok.” Her tone belied her anger.

“It was a slight on my part. My army went in swift and true. The bear, we assumed his powers would be weak in the human realm,” he growled. “She hasn’t come into her full powers, my Queen. She is still weak and very much human. Her fear, I could smell it like wine on my tongue.”

Without a word Dubheasa, spun and a crack sounded through the hall. The Orc didn’t move. He took her brutality as if it were a kiss. His cruel mouth curled up at the corners, his long black tongue flicked out as blood beaded on his bottom lip. Her nail had bit into his flesh. She relished his pain, and respected his lack of fear of her.

“Thank you, my Queen.”

She winked. “You’re welcome, my brute.”

They turned, entering her throne room. The black throne awaited her. Cut from the finest granite and volcanic rock, it still glowed as fresh magma flowed from the sharp points. Her form, her ethereal appearance flew in the face of all this—death. It helped her hide most easily.

Making her way up to her beautiful seat of power, she noticed the glowing elves that lined her path. Their heads bowed, all in different states of punishments. Taking in a deep breath, the fresh scent of copper drew dampness between her legs. She heard Marok snarl behind her.

“Oh, you don’t deserve my cunt today, Marok.”

Settling in, her blue gaze scanned over her people. All dark, all distorted and wicked in every way. The rows of elves were homage to her darkness. Two rested on their knees on either side of her. Both were naked and trembled in her presence.

I need an army.

“Round up all the dark forces that you can gather. If you must, grow more. I need them quickly, and I need them as deadly as possible. Don’t allow them to mature in the blood and earth. I want them to feast as they kill, eating my enemies as they tear through them with decadent brutality. Bring me that bitch of Nature!”

She turned her gaze from Osmaldis and Marok.

Her lithe digits slid under the chin of the elf to her right. Lifting her head, she smiled at the pain reflected in the woman’s eyes. A beautiful device was strapped around the glowing creature’s head. The once-proud creature drooled as gleaming metal kept her mouth open in an ‘O’ shape for constant pleasure.

“So, you are the one that is to take cock, are you?” she cooed at the shivering creature.

Dubheasa ran her fingers through the golden locks.

“Have you been used yet, pretty little pet?”

The elf shook her head, negative.

“Then we need to change that. We can’t have you being lazy, now can we?”

She turned her gaze to Marok. Dubheasa could feel the smile that made her cheeks ache. She would enjoy this show.

“Marok. Come, put this pretty little creature to work with your cock,” she coaxed.

Marok stormed forward, his steps eating up the space between them. He fisted the elf’s hair in his large, powerful hands. Dubheasa’s heartbeat kicked up. Starting to pant, she watched as he yanked his engorged cock free. It throbbed, the thick vein pumping blood to the huge purple crown. Her pussy pulsed in memory of slamming that huge girth inside her.

Yes, she needed to fuck. Yes, she needed to release tension over this pitiful loss. However, her patience would make her stronger. Marok snarled as a whimper escaped the elf which only served to create more wetness between her now swollen cunt folds.

Marok’s eyes locked with hers for a moment before she looked down at the cock fucking the mouth of the pretty little creature. Eyes starting to water, the sound of the golden elf gagging magnified her arousal.

“Osmaldis!” she roared.

He jogged forward and stood at the foot of her throne.

“Kneel,” she commanded. Dubheasa gathered the hem of her dress until her swollen, pink folds were exposed.

She wouldn’t fuck, but this wicked display of dominance and submission coaxed her need for release.

“Lock your hands behind your back and use only your tongue. No mouth, no lips, no teeth. Make me come, and make me come before this precious little creature makes Marok come.”

She turned her gaze upon Osmaldis. “And I would be quick about it. He’s nearly there. If you don’t... well, that is two failures in such little time, I will be forced to punish you now rather than later.”

Marok’s grunt drew her gaze back to the pretty little elf being violated with such dark beauty. Osmaldis’s tongue parted her wet folds and flicked over her hard little button. Leaning back, one leg tossed over the arm of the throne, her fingers lazily brushed through Osmaldis’s hair.

Sometimes it felt so fantastic being wicked.

––––––––

A
warm ache spread through her limbs and teased the pulsing arousal of her clit. Whimpering, Sorscha spread her arms wide as a yawn fell from her numb-kissed lips. Flashes of heat filled her womb with the memories of what Tethur had done to her not too long ago. The brightness of afternoon seeped through her still-closed eyelids. Her lips twitched as she remembered his thick fingers spreading her wet pussy lips. The way he teased her from the inside out—a warm reminder of what he’d done to her seeped from her still swollen folds.

Sorscha realized she couldn’t possibly have been asleep for long, if her body still felt so freshly the aftermath of her orgasms, and his scent wrapped around her so fully. That musky flavor that was all William, now Tethur, covered her like a warm blanket.

Blinking awake, she stared up at the crystal ceiling that shot upwards. The iridescent hues of blue, purple, teal, with flavors of red and pink from the sunglow made her feel as if she rested inside a diamond.

Untouchable.

It was how she’d felt for so long living under the watchful freeze of Tethur. Sitting up slowly, she dropped her legs over the side of the massive bed. Her gaze roamed over to the opposite side. A deep indent of where Tethur had been resting still held. Her fingertips glazed over the still-warm sheets and she realized he’d been there for quite some time, watching her sleep. Falling back onto the bed, Sorscha pressed her face into it and breathed in the fresh scent of him. Masculine, dark, and with a hint of spice.

Groaning, she rolled from the bed. Needing to use a restroom something fierce she scanned the room and saw the large doorway at the far corner of the room. Her feet padded into the bathroom quickly. Avoiding looking at her state in the hulking reflective surface, she quickly relieved herself. Sorscha headed over to huge mirror. Just like everything else in the sprawling castle, it was made from highly reflective ice. She cringed as she took in her appearance. Never in all her life had she look freshly fucked. Her hair was a tangled mass of chocolate-colored locks and there was a static puff around her face. Her lips were swollen from Tethur’s fierce kisses. Looking around the countertop, she spotted a brush and quickly ran it through her hair before setting about heading from the room.

The draw to find Tethur—to breathe him in—to touch, consumed her.

Without hunting down her pretty ice heels, she reached for the handle and pulled.

Locked.

“No, he fucking didn’t,” she growled under her breath.

Spinning around, she slammed back into the door, then looking up, she let out a scream. Her fists balled at her sides and she pounded them against the door until her hands hurt.

After what they had just done, after she had allowed him to spread her open, shove his fingers inside her and fuck her until she was screaming his name like a wanton, melted mess, he would dare lock in her in like some...barbarian?

Memories of her past: boys would ask her out, and suddenly her car would break down, or the roads would become unpassable. She felt the heat rise up her neck into her cheeks and she realized it had all been Tethur shutting her down and keeping her locked away in her parents’ hidden compound.

I don’t think so!

Sorscha gazed around the room, searching for something heavy. Preferably not glass, but heavy enough to shatter glass and get through the lock in that door.

“How the hell do you lock glass, anyway?” she mumbled, the anger seething through her veins.

A rumble took over the castle and she halted. She closed her eyes and fought for control. If she wasn’t careful she would bring down Cassandra’s awesome palace just from being pissed off at Tethur. Spying a lamp and a tiny glass pillar table next to the bed, she stalked over to it. Lifting it firmly in her hands, she made her way back to the door. Sorscha bent over to see where she would have to break to get the lock free. She would have to remove both handles.

She took a step back, fisting the neck of the lamp in two hands. Sorscha gritted her teeth and on a light squeal, she hit. The ice cracked. Pissed off this wasn’t working as planned, she jammed it hard, then again, and on the final hit it shattered into a million tiny pieces of glass, falling to the ground like stars against the icy floor.

A humph sounded from her throat and she shoved through the door.

“I was beginning to think, little one, I would have to come in there after you. I really enjoy rescuing women. They are always so...grateful,” a voice purred to her right.

Turning her head in the direction of the sultry sound, she took in Eridor. His lean, glowing body relaxed against the wall across from her. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she took in his arrogant and bored appearance. Sorscha crossed her arms over her chest, and cleared her throat before speaking. She felt the spike in arousal and shot it down...hard.

“You were here the whole time, and you couldn’t come let me out? That’s hardly chivalrous,” she drawled.