Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1) (18 page)

The brunette stepped in and took a long slow breath and held it for a moment, savoring his scent before exhaling. She then stepped back.

“Soon, not now, but soon,” the blonde spoke. “We will keep our gifts for now, out of respect.”

“But you will ask for them soon, Swynwr. And we may or may not deliver when asked.” The brunette stroked her hand down Aneurin’s chest. Behind me, I heard Yorwrath groan.

“Fuck me,” he growled, and then he gasped when he noticed the figures before us.

“Good morning, Yorwrath. We’ve missed you.” The blonde spoke, drawing out his name, curling her tongue seductively over each syllable.

“Ladies,” he grunted as he shoved Grwn from him.

“I trust you have not forgotten your debt.”

“Debt?” Aneurin snapped, whipping his head around to glare at his brother. “You stupid, arrogant piece of shit.”

“Now, now, Swynwr. We know…”

“… you have one request, or…”

“…rather two, now that you…”

“…know your brother’s plight,” The brunette finished their collective thought, she traced her over Aneurin’s bottom lip.

“We will give you your desire, Aneurin ap Aeon. And you only have to give us one thing, for all of your comrades to go free and your brother’s debt to be forgiven,” the redhead said as she stared at me.

“There’s potent magic to be had in the seed of kings, and we want a taste of it.” The blonde smirked out the words.

“We are within rights to demand much more from you.” The brunette giggled.

“No, you’re not. You have no power over me,” Aneurin spoke slowly. The three hissed and returned to their initial form.

“Smart one you are, Swynwr. No, we have no power over you or your beloved… But we do over your brother and the druid. It is only fitting that we take Yorwrath—he is in our debt!” A twisted smile spread across Eyeless’s lips, revealing teeth rotted black.

“He killed our Darkest Midnight!” Mouthless twitched.

“A fine replacement he’d make,” Earless finished as their faces pressed closer together.

“And the little pale druid…”

“…why, we’d drain him dry. Remove all…”

“…of that pesky blood that ruins his…”

“…complexion, and we’d make…”

“…him our Brightest Dawn!” The eyeless one raised a finger and leveled it at Islwyn.

“Fine.” Aneurin sighed.

“We knew you were a smart…”

“…one. Now let us suck it from…”

“…your root, and you’ll be…”

“…on your way.” That voice traveled from form to form as they knelt before Aneurin, who unlaced his trousers, but not before glaring in Yorwrath’s direction. He was as flaccid as could be as the hags set on him. Their long blackened tongues snaked out from between their lips to slather his length in their thick cloudy saliva. Aneurin shut his lids tight and clenched his jaw with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I can’t watch this,” Grwn confessed as he walked away. Islwyn went to join him, but Yorwrath stayed there smirking like the sheepfucker he was. The jawless one focused on licking Aneurin’s shaft while the others drew his heavy sack into their mouths. His lips tightened into a small hard line, but his body reacted. Slowly and almost grudgingly amidst the slurping, sucking sounds his shaft slowly started to rise.

“He’s doing this to save you, you ungrateful sheepfucking shit,” I growled at Yorwrath, who started snickering at his brother’s humiliation.

“So? I fail to see how that has any bearing on my amusement at the present, Dy’ne.”

The jawless one pulled back from Aneurin. His thick erection was covered in what looked to be some sort of slimy yellow-green goo. It hung from him in thick ropes that stretched until they finally broke. That viscous fluid then slowly dribbled from the tip of his phallus like egg yolk slipping from a fork. I lost it. I took three steps forward and collapsed in the dry grass, vomiting up water and then finally dry heaving. I wanted to be there for him, but I couldn’t be. Every time I thought about turning back around to see what Baba Yaga was doing my stomach churned more.

Lying in the grass, I could still hear Aneurin’s grunts and the nauseating noises coming from behind me. There was no other way to put it: it sounded wet and nasty, and the smell was next to unbearable.

“Mmm, we can taste your…”

“…power; so potent…”

“…so virile…” That voice filled the darkness as I closed my lids and rested my forehead against the rough ground. Yorwrath cackled wickedly.

“That’s it, Swynwr, pour your…

“…seed down our eager throats…”

“There’s so much of…”

“… it. Are you thinking…”

“…of your sweet queen?” The noises stopped, and I turned around, raising my eyelids. Aneurin’s eyes were still shut tight. Yorwrath still cackled madly as Baba Yaga stood. The three heads had Aneurin’s seed smeared around their mouths. They made no motion to wipe it away as they twitched, birdlike, together toward Yorwrath.

“We don’t know why…”

“…you’re laughing, impotent…”

“…knight. You couldn’t even finish for us.” Their words made me giggle as I rolled on my back and stared up at the starry sky. Yorwrath’s laughter died in his throat.

“You left our poor mouths dry without offering!” Jawless pointed at Yorwrath with one boney gnarled finger.

“Aneurin ap Aeon, you will receive all you desire…” Eyeless twitched back toward Aneurin.

“But you will know sadness, before the end…” Ears nodded slowly.

“…And pain and loss too…”

“…But you are who you are Swynwr…

“…Everything promised…”

“…and spoken of, and more.” The wind picked up again and sent a shiver down my spine. And as immediately as they appeared they were gone.

Islwyn was the first to walk up to Aneurin. He held out a length of linen, and Aneurin wiped himself off. That green and almost red gaze seemed wide with terror as he cleaned the pus and bile from his once again flaccid length. When he had cleaned himself as best as he could, he dropped the linen to the ground. It hit the dirt with a sticky, wet, dull squelch.

“I’ll meet you at the river.” Aneurin spoke flatly without looking at any of us as he walked away. He mounted Ys and rode off almost in a trance. He was actually handling it better than I thought he would.

“I’d need my alone time too,” Grwn rumbled with a bit of a shiver. “I’m not ashamed to say I was throwing up in the bushes the entire time, and they didn’t even touch me.”

“They’re still watching us. I can feel them souring the pit of my stomach,” Islwyn snarled, shaking his head.

“Impotent, huh?” I beamed at Yorwrath, who adjusted his red bandanna and walked over to his horse without his normal threatening attitude.

“You can ride with me. The river isn’t too far from here,” Islwyn offered, before he whistled to his dapple.

* * * *

Riding with Islwyn wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it’d be. He kept a bit of space between us and rode at a slow canter. Grwn and Yorwrath were specks on the horizon. He kept shifting behind me like he couldn’t get comfortable and I could feel his tension.

“So we’re not going to talk about how Baba fuckin’ Yaga just held us hostage so it could drink Aneurin’s seed?” I asked with a bit of nervous laughter.

“It could have been worse. Baba Yaga Bony Legs does as it pleases. It’s as old as the earth beneath the horse’s hooves or the wind that blows through the trees. I’m curious about Yorwrath killing one of its servants. I know Brightest Dawn died before we diminished, but Darkest Midnight was supposed to be the strongest.”

“I know the stories. I even know how to call to Baba Yaga. I’d never do it because it’s worse than a djinn and gives a whole new and creepy meaning to ‘be careful what you wish for.’”

“Shh, it’s still watching us. For some reason, you fascinate it…and I doubt that’s a good thing.” Islwyn swallowed and reached a hand around my waist to steady me. His touch was whisper-light as always. “I’m sorry about my behavior toward you.”

“Are you saying this because now you know I’m your queen? Or because they just let it slip that you want me?”

“You’ll never be my queen. You’re not even his wife,” Islwyn grumbled, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“So it’s because you want me?”

“That is the motivation for my apology. And at the same time, I still want to snap that slender, swanlike neck of yours.” His words made me swallow nervously as he heeled the great dapple on, and I suddenly wished I had ridden with Grwn. “It’s a given that Yorwrath will fuck you. He likes to rub Aneurin’s mistakes in his face. I’ll watch him take you, and I’ll see the horror in your eyes when you realize you like it.”

“And you’ll rub your cock the whole time, wishing you were me. Tell me, Islwyn, are you going to sit up at night listening in the dark for the sounds of Aneurin having me? Are you going to close your eyes and stick your fingers up your arse pretending his soft sighs are coming from being deep inside of yo—” I regretted my words the moment he shoved me from the horse. Clearly I had touched a nerve.

“You can walk the rest of the way to the river, Dy’ne,” he called over his shoulder, as he heeled his mare into a fast gallop.

I lay in the grass for a while staring up at the stars. Oh, I wasn’t stupid enough to whine about not deserving it. Admittedly, I knew I had that coming. Insulting him was fine, but taking it to the level I did was stupid. Offering me a ride was a kindness he didn’t have to extend. Yes, he was a shit, but he didn’t deserve me twisting the knife in his heart.

When I finally stood and dusted myself off, Islwyn returned. He rode up beside me and offered me a hand, before pulling me on the back of his saddle without a word. I wrapped my hands around his waist, and I leaned my cheek against his strong back as he continued that easy canter through the overgrown fields.

“I don’t think you want the truth,” Islwyn said after a while. “It’s often a bitter tonic that cures nothing and causes further malady.”

“What did you see in the shack that frightened you?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Eyes, and bones that had yet to be picked clean. Baba Yaga isn’t usually as kind as it was to us. We elves know better than humans. Usually, those who escape have to limbs, organs, or children yet to be born in order to continue living. Always something for the cook pot… it’s more voracious than any horde of trolls. It’s one of my nightmares to be eaten by them. Sometimes they take their victims bit by bit while still alive.”

“They said they were going to turn you into Brightest Dawn—the white knight.”

“Yes, so I can sate their other hungers.”

“What troubles me is that they were missing their last knight. Where was the Red Sun?”

“Probably watching us from afar… Probably watching us now.”

“All the more reason to catch up with the others.”

“I’ll say,” he grunted as he urged his dapple into a hard gallop.

* * * *

When we reached the camp, Aneurin was already naked and in the water, frantically scrubbing his body. Without missing a step, I slipped from behind Islwyn, shed my clothes, and joined him in the river. The current was cool against my flesh as I waded out to him. My skin broke out in gooseflesh and my nipples puckered with the cold. Without a word, I pulled him into my arms. The moment my skin touched his the softest of sighs broke his lips, and he wrapped his arms around me. Close to him, I could tell that he’d rubbed his skin raw in several places. His whole body relaxed against me. The tension bled away with every passing moment he held me in his arms.

“How are you feeling, husband?” I purred to him softly, my lips brushing against that pale silken skin of his chest.

“A little better now, my heart,” he purred softly before placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“They know.” I turned my gaze to the others on the riverbank. Grwn and Yorwrath were building a fire while Islwyn sat on a bedroll. Yorwrath said something and the others laughed.

“And others suspect… I suppose I might give a fuck, but as it stands, I'm feeling oddly bereft of charity.” His lips twitched into a smile, and he pulled me closer. “Unless it’s to you, of course. I have many fucks to give to you,” he whispered huskily as he tickled my sides, making me squeal with delight, before picking me up and carrying me back to the sandy bank.

When Aneurin set me down, I could feel the other elves’ eyes on me—or at least Islwyn’s and Yorwrath’s. Grwn was seated on a pallet, playing an elfish flute, oblivious to my nakedness. I felt like a wounded doe surrounded by wolves as I retrieved my clothes from the ground.

“So are you going to tell us how you defeated Baba Yaga’s Darkest Midnight?” I asked Yorwrath, as I bent over to retrieve my top from next to his bedroll.

“I’m a little curious myself.” Islwyn quirked a brow as he started sharpening his sword.

“I just want to know why,” Aneurin grumbled as he approached me, slipping his hands around my waist for a moment before he walked over to Ys and started to unsaddle the horse. “You never struck me as particularly stupid, and that is the definition of a stupid move.”

“Last winter, we were up here on our way to Ashton. They had a warrant for me, posters plastered everywhere. I figured I’d thank them for acknowledging my efforts by torching the town and killing every last filthy Dy’ne there—well, not every last one.” He practically cackled. “So, the snows came. We expected it. But when I was out hunting one day it hit like a wall of white. I took refuge in what looked to be a small abandoned town not too far from here. Looking back on it, I should have known where I was. But it was colder than an ice troll’s tits, so I took refuge in one of the buildings and started a fire. My fingers had barely started to thaw when this massive motherfucker in all-black armor hacks his way through the fucking door. Do you remember father’s armor? How shiny and black it was, almost like it was made of black glass. That’s how this fucker’s armor was. And he was huge. We’re pretty fucking tall, but he was taller than even you, Aneurin, and bigger than Grwn. Just one big ugly goatfucker.

“He swung his sword at me within seconds of hacking through the door. I rolled under his blade, drew my sword, and slipped out into the center by the well. That was when it sank in where I was. All of the houses faced the well except for one, which no matter which direction I turned, its door was always facing me. I think they intended their knight to take a piece of me and to let me go afterward. Luck, however, was not with their Darkest Midnight. I’ve always been a dirty fighter, and I had the size advantage. I was so much quicker than he was. I doubt he was an elf because he fought like a fat fucking Dy’ne. He was slow. His blade when he swung it at me sang in the air but not like our steel. It made this horrible flat noise.
Whomp
.” Yorwrath extended his arm out like there was a sword in it. I finished dressing while Aneurin made it back to the fire with the saddlebags.