Page 65
Then she turns back to me. “Shall we go?”
I feel excited anticipation flood my limbs, love in my heart as I think of meeting Wodred. “We shall.”
✽✽✽
STANDING UNDER TORCHLIGHT as the orcs and orcresses present chant and thrum, I look up at Wodred, his dark eyes full of promise. I almost squirm under that stare. I know what awaits me during the Chase.
I also feel a wave of tender emotion. This moment feels fated, inevitable, as if my life was always leading here. Every trial, every hardship, has led me to the love my mother prophesied to me all those many years ago. I know that I have finally found him in Wodred.
Adalind and Naiva work to draw the runes of the ceremony on my skin in soro berry paste. The paste is meant to be an aphrodisiac, and maybe it is working because I can already feel myself priming to take Wodred, excitement in my veins.
As they finish, Wodred and I speak aloud the traditional vows in Orikesh.
“Pah threy thik. Thik drad vik or brok. Thik drad jro hana. Thik drad Mar Wodred tay,” I say.
I will run. Run until the world falls away. Run until time ends. Run until you catch me, General Wodred.
Wodred replies, “Thik, la swera. Thik fro pak trey dratcj ba. Stara fro pak threy grilli ba. Drad jro hana. Lia Melelea threya tok ba.”
Run, my bride. Run, and I will catch you. Hide, and I will find you. Until time ends. You will be mine, Lady Melelea.
The drums start as we finish, a primal rhythm, getting faster and faster. It’s time for me to run. Suddenly, I am transported in my mind thirty years back, to the night I ran from Guruk. The feelings come crashing toward me, paralyzing my movements. I don’t want to give Guruk power, not now, not in this, but for a moment I feel helpless, the old memories seeking to choke me.
The drums stall, and everyone watches in confusion as I don’t move. I feel humiliated, but I can’t bring myself to run.
Then, suddenly, Wodred is there, in my line of sight, bending down so that his forehead touches mine. He grasps the back of my head, holding our heads together.
“It’s only us,” he rumbles, his voice like a soothing balm over my mind. “You and me. No one else.”
I take a deep breath, his musky, cedar scent flowing over my senses, so different from Guruk’s. I close my eyes and just breathe in that scent for a few moments. “Only us,” I whisper back, feeling myself calming.
“We do not have to do this, love,” Wodred says. “I am yours, ceremony or no. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
My eyes open, firming my resolve. “No, I want to. This is our beginning . . . mate.”
Then, stealing my courage, I pull back from Wodred, turn and run into the forest, chased by the sound of the drumming that resumes.
As I run, I feel the past fall behind me. I let myself fly free, leaping over the underbrush and running as quickly as I can. The moonlight streams through the late autumn trees, almost bare now. I would be cold if not for the heat charm around my neck, the same one that Wodred gave me on the mountain. It has become a symbol to me of Wodred’s care for me, of how he always puts me first.
Behind me, I start to hear the breaking of twigs and the rustling of the underbrush as Wodred chases me. He is getting closer, and my blood rushes in anticipation, my core getting wet. I know what is coming, yet he never catches me. I expect him to pounce and take me, spurred on by our primal play, but instead, he stays just out of sight. I can hear the steady hum of his thrum, just behind me, but when I turn, I cannot see him.
He is hunting me, I realize. Seducing me.
His sibilance accompanies my running, making me more wet and slick as I move. The constant arousal and the movement of my thighs as I jog through the forest keep me on the edge of an orgasm. There’s not enough friction to let me sail over the peak, but just enough that I am in a state of wild lust by the time that I run out of endurance. My running slows when I reach a clearing that is covered in a thick layer of leaves. I stop in the center and turn. Still, I can hear his thrum, can feel its pleasure washing over my sensitized and aroused body.
“Take me, mate,” I call. “I surrender. Take your prize.”
My words are like a magic summoning ritual. Wodred emerges from the shadows like one born to them. He stalks toward me, barely reined-in lust on his features, his majestic horns gleaming in the moonlight. He looks like a beast of the woods, a primordial god come to take me, and I cannot wait any longer. I rush forward to meet him, and then I am in his arms.
Where I belong.
Wodred bears me to the ground, laying me on the bed of leaves beneath us. His lips crash into mine. His hands come to the clasps of my tunic, undoing them and baring my breasts to his gaze. His hands smear the soro berry paste into my skin, tracing his thumbs over my nipples, leaving the juice in their wake. Then his mouth is on me, wild and insistent. He sucks and licks and nips, and I feel an answering spark of pleasure in my clit at the pressure. His tongue vibrates with the force of his sibilance, tracing over my nipple as his other hand massages my other breast. I cry out at the intensity of his ministrations. I was already on the edge of my peak from our chase through the woods, and when he pinches my nipples at the same time as he sucks the other, I scream in pleasure, coming just with my breasts.
“Beautiful,” Wodred growls, his voice thick with his thrum. “Such a good female, coming for her male. Can you come again on my cock?”
“Yes!” I cry out. “Yes! Please, Wodred!”
Wodred rips away my leggings, baring my legs and pussy to the cool air. Then, with clumsy, passion-addled hands, he frees his cock from his warkilt. It juts proudly in the air, a drip of precum tracing down its length. I whimper in anticipation and spread my thighs wider.
