Page 17 of Frost Bite
This is so wrong. I shake my head. “No. It won’t fit. Please.”
He laughs. “It will once we’ve ripped you open.”
“How long must I wait here?” If Death is as cruel as Famine, I pray that he makes my torture swift.
“As long as he wishes.” Famine ties the free end of my rope to a steel ring that’s been forged into the floor. He tugs on it once more, making sure it’s secure. “So you won’t be tempted to run away. We can’t stop him from killing you if he catches your scent. Best to be a good little pet for him.”
My stomach churns, forcing bile up my throat. My heart pounds as I listen to the sound of Famine’s boots clicking against the floor. I flinch as the heavy steel doors slam shut behind him. Alone for the first time in this castle of nightmares, I can only pray to the gods for mercy. But I fear they’ve abandoned me after the things I’ve done.
A few minutes tick by when I hear the thud of boots from the opposite side of the room. A large figure emerges from the shadows. His eyes are as black as night. He studies me as if I truly am a wild animal that he needs to break in.
My breath hitches as he moves closer. The sides of his head are shaved and marked with ancient runic symbols. A halo of black hair gathers on the top of his head in a knot. When he steps under the candelabra, the light flickers over his bare chest, revealing more of those intricate designs and hard, chiseled muscles. His shoulders are broad, his arms thick and shapely. His black deerskin pants sit low on his hips, showing off the washboard pattern of his belly and a very distinct V shape of muscle that stretches past his belt.
Moisture gathers in my mouth and in between my thighs. He’s breathtaking. Beautiful. But every inch of my body lurches back, reminding me he’s a predator. A monster that doesn’t have a stitch of remorse or empathy. I can see it in his cold, dead expression. I am nothing but a piece of meat to him. A feast to consume any way he sees fit.
His upper lip twitches as it curls. He sniffs the air between us as he struts toward me like a lion about to pounce.
My heart pounds so fast I fear it might burst. I don’t dare speak or look away. He has command over me without even uttering a word or raising a finger. But the one thing I can’t control is the trembling. Every muscle in my body twitches, begging me to get up and run. Yet there is nowhere to run anymore. Nowhere to go. And now I know by the way he looksat me, by the way he glides across the floor, that there is nothing more terrifying than Death in the flesh.
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 away 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.Yourbody 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.”