Chapter 9
The scent of her fear claws at me. Visions of blood stain my memories.
All the ones before her, their faces, melting in the flames.
Their limbs torn from their bodies as we watched Saint Nick fuck crevices of their bodies that were not designed for pleasure.
All while we received nothing. Our archaic duty to a god who takes without giving will be no more.
The hunt is the kill. The chase is the foreplay to the destruction of flesh. It’s all I know. The others were wise to keep me away. Even now, as she waits for me like an obedient dog, I have the urge to rip her apart with my teeth.
I stand in the shadows, waiting for Famine to leave.
I watch their whole exchange, the way he touches her, making her flesh quiver despite her fear.
In over four hundred centuries of playing the Wild Hunt, I have seen our prey aroused in such a way only once.
I’m intrigued. I wonder how many ways I can violate this creature into submission.
As I run my fingers over the flat of my blade, my cock swells. I don’t have to kill her to draw blood. There are so many ways to scar her flesh whilst keeping her alive. This insatiable need grows with each step.
Imogen is her name. Sweet and fragile like a little doe.
And curious like one too. Her skin is smooth.
So supple. I want to see how long she can go before she breaks.
Before she unleashes the wild beast that lies dormant inside her.
The one she doesn’t yet know exists but that I can see with every spark that flickers through her eyes.
She winces as I press the flat of my blade against her neck. “Stay very still for me.”
The girl is tired, hungry, and overstimulated. I scrape the tip of the blade across her collarbone, leaving a mark but careful not to break the skin.
She shudders, her eyelids flickering as she pinches them shut. “I thought you weren’t going to kill me…”
I slide my palm around to the back of her neck. She’s burning up and slick with sweat. “Shhh… you’re not going to die. Not today. I just want to play. Open your eyes.”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes brimming with tears. “I’m scared.”
An ache twists in my belly, my cock hardening. Her fear is palpable. It drives me to the edge of insanity, taunting me with visions of mutilated flesh and decay. I kneel down next to her and gently press the tip of the blade into her shoulder.
“But what about when your fear turns into something else?” I peck her cheek, relishing its warmth. Her flesh is a rich delicacy, forged around her bones like an offering to the gods. I prick her skin, my lips quivering at the sight of the tiny red droplets that trickle out around the steel.
She delivers a tiny gasp, wincing slightly. “You’re monsters,” she whispers.
I lap the blood with my tongue. Divine. Pure. Like sweet honey mead. “Mmm. And what of those who fed you to us? Aren’t they the real monsters, sweet Imogen?”
The flush in her cheeks deepens. Fury flickers through her gaze like fire. “They are desperate people. They know not what they’ve done.”
I can’t hold back my laughter. She’s so innocent.
So naive. “The people of your village are greedy. Insolent. Despicable. They degrade you under the guise of sacrifice and holiness. But they are weak. How many have died before you? If you don’t know, I can tell you. I’ve slaughtered them all myself.”
Her face pales as she struggles to stay upright. “So that makes you better?”
I press the flat of the blade to her nipple and slide it back and forth, caressing it, as I watch the other pebble and turn a deep shade of red.
“It makes me powerful. We’ve chosen you to be ours.
You’ve ended the cycle of blood. That is your true sacrifice.
Your body for the countless lives of others. ”
She sucks in a deep breath as I transfer the blade to her other erect nipple. She’s unraveling, confused by the different sensations that sweep through her. “And when you tire of me?”
I wrap my hand around her throat, slipping my fingers under the thick rope. “Don’t give me a reason to.” Tears stream down her cheeks. I lick them from the base of her jaw up to her cheekbone. “Shhh. Relax. I’m going to show you the pleasure that comes from pain.”
I stand and pull on the loose end of the rope. “Let’s go somewhere special.”
She crawls next to me as I walk, already being such a good and obedient little whore. I knew it was her from the moment I first saw her in the village. The remembrance hit me so hard I could barely breathe. Her beauty is unlike any other. But it’s her eyes that give her away.
I admire the curve of her ass, the sway of her hips as she slinks across the floor like a tiger. She doesn’t complain about her bruised knees, punished by the cold, hard ground. But her breath is heavy and erratic. Her tears continue to stream down her face, but she doesn’t make a sound.
I guide her down the spiral staircase, three floors beneath the surface. My erection grows with every step. I have waited so long for this. I let her take her time, crawling down, careful not to rush her. I would hate for her to fall and damage that exquisite face.
By the time we reach the bottom, my need to consume twists in my gut. I’m tempted to fuck her against the castle wall. I hold tight to the rope, white-knuckling it as I talk myself down. I don’t want to rush this. I need to savor it.
I lead her down the hall. It’s dark except for the torches that line the walls. “Almost there. You’re doing so well. Are you ready to pledge your devotion to us? To me?”
She whimpers but keeps her head down, fixating on the stone floor. “You ask as if I have a choice.”
I stop in front of a large wooden door and slide the thick steel bar back that covers it. “Oh, but you do have a choice. If you give us your loyalty, your devotion, it will be much more enjoyable for you. I’m going to take your pleasure either way.”
Her eyes widen as I push the door open. “Oh gods…”
I can’t help but smirk as I watch how her gaze flits around the room.
The way her throat bobs as she takes note of the bed in the middle of the room.
The chains that hang from its frame. The vein in her neck pulses as she spots the whips and paddles that line the walls—some of them smooth and flat, others studded and spiked.
I pull her up to her feet, embracing her as all the blood rushes back into her legs. “Welcome to the dungeon, little doe.”
“This can’t be happening,” she murmurs.
I slide behind her and caress her belly. “Do you like to play games? If you behave, we can have so much fun.”
“Please… this is vile,” she protests, even as she clenches her thighs together.
Our little pet has a dark side she wants to explore. “Stop fighting what you truly want.”
“You’re mad. This is madness,” she huffs out.
I squeeze her hips, digging my fingers into her supple flesh. “Don’t make any sudden movements. If I catch even the faintest scent of betrayal… if I think you are going to attempt to run away, I will not be able to stop myself from the Wild Hunt. From killing you.”
A gurgled cry leaves her throat. “I-I won’t,” she stammers.
Such a good pet. I stroke her hair before removing the rope from her neck. “Come lie with me.” I hold her wrist, pulling her with me toward the bed. She scrambles onto the black furs and curls into a ball.
I remove my pants and stand before her naked. The sight of her shivering sends a burn of adrenaline through my icy veins. My balls tighten. And when her gaze flits to my engorged cock, when she sees the steel bars that decorate my shaft, I know in my bones that she’s a feral little beast.
“Lie back and put your arms over your head,” I command.
She uncurls herself slowly, her limbs shaking. I slide onto the bed and lean over her. I secure each of her wrists in the shackles that dangle from the iron frame. Then I do the same to her ankles. Now she is spread-eagled before me, whimpering and glistening like a cat in heat.
“How long has it been since you’ve… copulated?” she asks, breathless.
I chuckle. “Such a pious girl. Do you mean how long has it been since I’ve fucked a tight virgin hole? A very long time. So long that I pity you for being the first to feel my wrath.”
She tilts her chin, flexing her jaw as she grits her teeth. “Will it hurt?”
I slide my palms over her breasts until I feel her nipples pebble. “In every way imaginable, but you will cum so hard for me. I promise.”
I nestle myself between her thighs. Her pussy is slick and delicate. I knead my thumbs against her folds, my cock throbbing as she trembles for me. The flush in her cheeks deepens and spreads to her chest.
“Relax, little doe. I haven’t even started yet.” I press the tip of the blade into her creamy thigh, nicking her flesh.
She winces, her chest heaving as the blood trickles down her leg. I lick the trail up and roll my stained tongue over her clit. “You taste like the old gods.”
“Have mercy on my soul,” she whispers.
I do the same to the other thigh, just a small nick in her flesh before licking the ruby-red droplets up until I reach her delicate slit. “Mercy does not exist here. This is the House of the Four Horsemen. But we please as well as we punish.”
I flip the blade into my palm and squeeze. Blood drips down my wrist as I slice into my own flesh. I press the steel hilt to her pussy. “I’m twice the girth of this handle. Let’s see how well you take this first.”
Her eyes widen as she gasps. “You’re going to stick that inside me? Please, my lord. I cannot be defiled this way.”
I caress her belly as I insert the tip of the hilt between her folds. “I have forged this blade myself. It’s been cleansed in fire and soaked in moon water. And now it’s covered in my blood. An oath… and an old forgotten promise. Let me show you your own need.”
Her eyes roll back as I thrust it in farther. Her hips jerk, rolling up in response. “What is happening… why does that feel…”
I inch it in more, twisting it gently as her juices leak out. “Tell me how it feels. Beg me to stop if you must. But don’t fucking lie to me.”
Imogen pants as beads of sweat gather around her belly button. Her legs shake violently as she fights against every primal urge that claims her. She’s unraveling. Breaking. Opening.
“Tell me. I command it,” I repeat. Her awakening is stirring the killer in me. But it’s not her death that I want. It’s her submission.
She pulls at her chains as she writhes on the bed. “It feels… like I don’t want you to stop.” She turns her head in shame, tears of defeat and acceptance stream down her cheeks.
I thrust the hilt all the way in and watch in delight as her hips rise off the bed. Her mouth gapes open, forming a perfect O shape. And when I tap on that sweet, sacred spot deep inside her, a strangled cry unfurls from her throat.