Page 33 of Frost Bite

I arch my back, inviting their brutality once again. “Mark me, then,” I murmur. “Carve your star beside my moon. Let me bleed and cum for you.”

Conquest groans as he holds my shoulders down against the table. “You are perfect. Fucking hell, fortune has finally favored us by delivering you to us.”

I’m dizzy, flushed, intoxicated by their fingers and kisses and seductive words. “It is I who am fortunate. Destined to die but saved by your mercy. Your devotion. I was dead before, but now I have risen, alive for the first time.”

Famine whips his long blond mane against my belly with a slap, stinging my flesh. “From virgin to whore to queen.” He moans as he pushes a finger inside my cunt.

I buck as the first prick of the blade pierces my soft flesh. But before the pain takes hold, the pleasure erupting in my core wins out.

War works the knife in deep, ensuring that the scar he leaves will never fade. They take turns licking the blood from my thigh. And when it is done, they lift me from the table and fuck me on the floor in front of the hearth all night long. Until I’m nothing but a filthy nymph whose carnal cries of ecstasy echo through the halls of the House of the Four Horsemen.

And as I drift off to sleep in a mountain of furs, a flower crown is placed upon my head.

Distant drums from another life pound in my ears. That primal song that plays in my bones. Visions of the crone flash in my mind. She holds up a cup, an offering, while shadowy figures dance all around me.

I let her pour the cup over my head. Blood drips down my face and breasts. Flames flicker from a roaring bonfire. I dance with them, twisting and contorting to mimic the blaze. The pounding of hooves on the ground grows louder. The smoke thickens, but through the haze, I see them all—tall and dark and powerful.

But there are five horses, one is riderless. My horse. I let them hoist me up onto the beautiful creature. They circle me, hungry, desperate to claim me. I am yours, my lords. You are mine.

We ride through the dark woods as one, reclaiming the roots of the trees, invoking the rain that enriches the soil. Cracking the stars open and spilling their sacred light upon the path before us. This, as it was, shall be again.

I wake to my own gasps. Have I had this dream before? I blink a few times and glance around the room. The embers in the hearth smolder as smoke billows out. I shudder and pinch my eyes shut, hurrying to recall every part of the dream before it slips from my memory. As I believe it has always done.

“Do you remember now?” War’s voice pierces the silence, sending a cascade of chills up my spine.

My breath hitches. It’s not a dream, but a memory so ancient that its script is written on my soul.

I lock eyes with War in the dark. “Who am I?”

“Ours,” Death growls. “You are ours.”

“Born and reborn, over and over,” Conquest adds.

War pulls the furs down and pins my thighs back against the floor. He rubs his thumb over my birthmark. “It wasIwho carved this crescent moon into your thigh centuries ago. To mark you.”

My mouth gapes open. “H-how many times have you captured me for him?”

“Three hundred and seventy-four times,” Famine rasps.

“You don’t always look the same in each life, except for your blonde hair and blue eyes.” Death threads his fingers through my messy strands.

That familiar longing pulls at me. “Why? How did this happen?”

“You wereourwoman. Our queen. But he tricked us. He markedyouas the first sacrifice,” War snarls. “It is how the Wild Hunt began. Saint Nick took you from us while we begged him to spare you.”

Death wraps a protective arm around my waist. “We tried hiding you, but the gods cursed us, forcing us to watch him sacrifice you again and again for centuries. Until we had enough. We invoked the darkest magic to weave these wards.”

My teeth chatter as I rock back and forth on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. “You needed me to remember on my own because I would never have believed you otherwise.”

They nod in unison.

I finger my thigh, tracing it over the crescent moon and the star that now lies next to it. “So when I die in this life, and I’m reborn, will you have to hunt me all over again?”

“Yes,” Death rasps. “But we will always find you.”

Famine lays his head in my lap, curling into me like a loyal pet. “Never again, little doe. We will never let him have you ever again.”

“No more,” Death declares.