Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1) (12 page)

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Authors: Christina Quinn

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BOOK: Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1)
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“You said you saw her with my collar… It has to be unanimous.”

“I’m not exactly feeling charitable after last night, and we both know ‘addas’ will be far from Yorwrath’s lips.”

“The fuck I’m going to go through with that only to be handed over to Yorwrath,” I snapped, as I picked my pack up and started putting the books Aneurin saved into it.

“Welcome to reality, Dy’ne. It tends to be far harsher than any bard’s tale or troubadour’s song. Though if Yorwrath is your only problem we can come to an arrangement that would be beneficial.”

“You want her too!” Aneurin roared as his face twisting in anger.

“What was it you said about me? Oh yes, I’ll fuck or let myself be fucked by anything that moves?”

Rolling my eyes, I let them talk as I packed my bag. As practical as I was, I had my limits. I wasn’t beyond letting myself be fondled to obtain what I wanted. I wasn’t above having sex with someone for an end. Survival is survival, and sometimes you had to use your body to survive. This was only a sidestep to being practically sold by my family to the lesser lord all those years ago. But I was beyond letting someone who I knew would hurt me if given the chance dip his wick into me. As if on cue, Yorwrath entered as I was pulling my bag over my shoulder.

“Going somewhere?” He grinned as he grabbed my pack from me and dropped it on the floor. The other two grew silent at Yorwrath’s entrance.

“Far far away from you.”

“Have you resolved to judge her ‘anaddas’ as well?” Aneurin glared at his brother.

“I’ll need a closer look to decide. I came to offer my slaves to you for her preparation. She doesn’t know what’s expected, and it would be unseemly for you to touch her before she’s declared.”

“I don’t even trust you.” Islwyn laughed.

“You don’t have a brother, Islwyn. You don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

“Yorwrath, you made it clear last night you were willing to go to drastic lengths to take her from me like she was some…trinket given at Yule.” As Aneurin defended my honor, I snatched my bag from the floor and started inching toward the tent flap.

“She’s Dy’ne. She doesn’t get our respect or consideration. Comely Dy’ne are only fit to be tied to a bed for a few days and rotated out when we grow bored. Admittedly her spark makes her more interesting than the average innkeeper’s daughter or whore who goes pliable after a few slaps. I bet she’d put up a merry little fight and even leave me a bit bruised for it. But she’s still Dy’ne, and Dy’ne are slaves, not lovers—no matter how many men they’ve killed.” Yorwrath smirked, and his gaze fell on me as I inched my way out of the tent. He knew what I was doing, but he wasn’t stopping me this time. Our gazes locked as I continued backing out of the room…right into a wall of muscle. Unfortunately, Grwn was walking forward, so as our bodies connected I was knocked off my feet and thrown forward. I actually rolled over a few times on the floor before coming to a stop with a grunt. Yorwrath cackled with glee as I winced on the ground and slowly rose to standing with Aneurin’s help.

In Grwn’s arms was a crying girl with a ruddy, human complexion and ears that were barely pointed. She was a half-elf, her dirty blonde hair hanging to her waist in messy, half-matted tendrils. She wailed in their language as Grwn set her down and shoved her toward Yorwrath.

“Pwyll’s payment,” Grwn grunted. He seemed torn, and as big as he was, he seemed a bit afraid of Yorwrath. It was odd to me since Grwn looked like if he wanted to, he could snap the lithe elf like a twig.

“Isn’t that—” Aneurin started, but Yorwrath interrupted him, ripping open the girl’s shift right down the middle. The tatters of linen that remained fell forward on her arms, covering the crude rope that bound her hands.

“Yes, this is Pwyll’s little half-elf bastard, but she’s flowered. Haven’t you, Catrin?” The girl at Yorwrath’s feet only whimpered in response. She looked to be maybe a handful of years younger than myself. “I won her last night at cards, and now she needs to be claimed.” He reached down and started unfastening his trousers. Aneurin said nothing but crossed his arms as a look of disapproval settled onto his handsome features. Islwyn looked away. “Oh, don’t get like that. Her mother was one of Pwyll’s slaves, and you know Pwyll. Yes, her ears point, but she’s still Dy’ne.”
He’s saying it in common for me.

He shoved her facedown in the dirt. She sobbed but didn’t fight him. Instead, she arched her back, presenting her sex to him. Those tears that streaked her cheeks weren’t from dreading what he would do, but rather because she was nervous. She kept glancing back at him, but those eyes of hers didn’t read fear but longing. After freeing his thick, hard length from his trousers, he stroked himself openly as he looked down at her. His rigid phallus was roughly the size of his brother’s though not as thick, which put it right on this side of punishingly large to a human’s eyes.

Those sobs of hers gave way to the softest of moans as he caressed down her back and across the curve of her bottom, to slip a finger between her dewy folds.

Yorwrath sucked his teeth. “Someone’s not an innocent. Grwn, go tell Pwyll we’re not settled.” He barked the order, withdrawing his finger from the girl. Grwn, looking not a little relieved, nodded to his leader before leaving the tent. Yorwrath knelt behind her inspecting her sex. He traced his fingers along that delicate pink slit, teasing that hot wet opening with shallow strokes of his fingertips as he continued to stroke himself. The scene was bizarre. It was like watching some kind of twisted horse trader as he continued fingering her, watching her body respond. The girl’s soft moans filled the room as Islwyn and Aneurin looked on almost passively, but I could make out the line of their erections in those leather pants.

Even with all the prepping, she still screamed as Yorwrath lanced into her, his smile spreading as he looked up at me. There was a promise in his eyes as he pounded into the girl, and the sound of skin slapping echoed through the room. ‘This will be you,’ that gaze of his vowed with every thrust as he watched me. The heat in his gaze made my body react as I wondered for a moment what it would feel like to have him behind me. When Grwn returned, holding Pwyll by the arm, I was thankful for the distraction. Yorwrath cackled through a groan as he finished in the girl. Immediately after, he shoved her away from him, but that red-hot gaze stayed focused on me.

“Clean me,” he ordered, finally taking his attention from me. Obliging his demand, the girl crawled to Yorwrath’s still erect phallus. Though her face was still dirty and tear-stained, she licked that rigid flesh clean of his seed and her juices eagerly. “You said she was innocent, Pwyll. This is not innocent.” Yorwrath gestured to the girl on her knees, and Pwyll looked away. “Have you ever been with a man, Pwyll?” Yorwrath’s face lit up with delight, and I cast my gaze at Aneurin, who was glaring at Yorwrath.

“You claimed the girl. Now get out,” Aneurin growled.

Yorwrath ignored him. “Maybe in twenty-two years we can play for your grandchild. Though I can already tell you now, they won’t be an innocent.” He cackled uproariously, and the implication made my stomach turn.

“Yorwrath!” Aneurin shouted.

Again the red-bandanna’d elf ignored his brother. Yorwrath stood and snickered darkly. “You know I’m not a lover of men. But we both know I’ve been known to make exceptions. Particularly when people try to fuck me. So I think now, I’m going to have Grwn hold you down while I plow you like you tried to fuck me over with your little Dy’ne whore daughter.”
And that’s my cue to leave.
I left, slipping through the tent opening behind Grwn and Pwyll.

Outside seated on the logs around the smoldering remains of the fire from the night before were a group of beautiful women, and every last one of them was human. All of the slaves gathered wore thin shifts that barely veiled their bodies, and at each of their throats was a thin leather band with gold ornamentation on it. Their origins seemed to span the known world. Clearly Yorwrath was a connoisseur of slaves.
And that’s why he calls them his collection.
I paused for a moment as one of the women approached me. She had tan skin, green eyes, and long hair the color of burnished bronze that brushed the small of her back with every step. She smiled as, behind us, loud, masculine screams came from the tent.

“So you’re the one Aneurin has chosen,” she said with an appraising glance.

“I suppose I am.” I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing her as she beamed at me.

“You’re lucky. Aneurin is kind and gentle. When Yorwrath lets him have one of us, it’s always a delight.”

“You’ve all had him?”

“Not in a year or so, but yes…” She took a step close to me. She was taller than I by a few inches and peered down into my face. Her brows furrowed and then with the softest of whispers in my ear she said, “You need to flee; you’re not safe here. No human is safe here. He will take your name. He will take your identity, and the only comfort you’ll have will be the arms of the other slaves. Flee.” Her frantic tone was betrayed by her grin. I wasn’t born yesterday, so I didn’t trust this sudden outburst from the smiling woman. Still, I nodded and smiled at her warning before taking a step back. They wanted me gone, for some reason. Unfortunately, I didn’t have too long to think on it, as Aneurin stepped out of the tent. When he saw me his lips pulled into a wide smile, and those irises sparkled, the green gleaming like a polished emerald in the natural light.

“I thought you had run.” His brows furrowed. Stopping short of me, he glanced at the gaggle of women who watched us far too intently for my liking.

“I had intended to, but…” I shrugged, and Aneurin grinned wider.

“Well… I have a yearning to have you all to myself.”

“Do you?” My cheeks grew hot with blush.

“Mhm,” he purred happily, those odd irises practically glittering in the morning sun. “Would you like to go for a ride?”

“Mmm…maybe. Is this just an excuse to get me alone in the middle of the woods?”

“Mhm.” There was something about that simple utterance that turned me into a complete smiling moron.

“All right then.”

Sharing a quiet giggle, we stepped past the throng of women, their gaze heavy on me as Aneurin led me through the camp to where the horses were tied. He saddled a large milk-white stallion with a thick silvery mane. It was the sort of horse a prince would ride in a fairy story while clad in shiny, silver armor that gleamed in sunlight.

“This is Ysbaddaden. Ys for short,” Aneurin explained as he quickly mounted the horse. He looked better on its back than any armored knight could have. The set of his jaw while in the saddle read nothing short of kingly. He could deny it all he wanted to, but he was clearly born to lead.

Aneurin held his hand out to me, and I took it, allowing him to pull me into the saddle in front of him. He took my pack from me and leaned back before stuffing it into one of the saddlebags. He wrapped his hand around my waist, guiding my body back against his warmth. “Here, move your leg to the other side. It’ll be more comfortable.” I kicked one leg awkwardly over the other side of the horse as he positioned me in the saddle so that the pommel was directly in front of me, brushing the sensitive heat at the apex of my body.

The slight pressure of it against my sex was a curious sensation. Nervously, I glanced back at Aneurin as he pressed his hips flush against mine, showing that his already hard length was right at the curve of my bottom.

“Now let us ride,” he purred into my ear, his voice thick with desire as he heeled the horse. I gasped as every motion sent that pommel caressing against the most sensitive part of me. I cursed to the wind, throwing my head back over Aneurin’s shoulder as he heeled the horse faster. The scenery was a blur. All I cared about was the heat and pleasure building inside me. The world could have ended, and I wouldn’t have cared as long as I reached my climax. I clawed at myself and Aneurin as we continued our ride. My breathing was nothing but frantic heaving. The pleasure was almost unbearable as we rode through the wood. My skin felt like it was made of fire as I started to grind my hips against that leather-coated stub. And that was when he stopped, as my body teetered on the edge of bliss.

My sex was throbbing and as hot and moist as lakeside in summer when he dismounted. I didn’t take in my surroundings. I just sat in the saddle, panting, as I felt my body tense and release over and over again with a murmur of the pleasure denied. He held his hand out to me, and I almost slapped it away. But I could feel the unsteadiness of my legs as I sat astride the horse.

“I wanted to show this to you.” He spoke softly, gesturing around the forest.

“Oh?” I scanned our surroundings. The tree canopy was thicker, and it was clear that we were near the remains of something great. Massive oak trees stood all around us, some as thick as houses.

“I was born here.” He smiled weakly. “My mother took refuge here during a storm. She had intended to have me in the… It doesn’t matter as you wouldn’t have any knowledge of this. But I was determined to come into the world here. Which is ironic because…” He helped me dismount and led me in silence to one of the largest trees. It was thicker around than the largest inn. There was a hollow in it, and that was where Aneurin took me. I followed him hesitantly into the darkness. “This is the resting place of True Kings. Which, if you believe what most elves believe, means I am the chosen child. The king born amidst royal ash and dust. The one who drew first breath amongst the dead.” He wiggled his fingers. “Some goat-plowing whoreson foretold that the one king, supposedly me, would restore all that we had lost. Which would be ironic, wouldn’t it? The godless king foretold by the gods to bring back the old religion.” He laughed bitterly. “But that’s not exactly why we’re here.” He flashed me a smile and then wet his lips. “We’re here because I don’t want you to be my slave.”

“So you’re not going to fuck me in front of your entire camp and take away my name?” I skeptically inquired, peering into the darkness of the crypt that the almost luminescent stones led to.

“I’m not Yorwrath, and you’re not some girl I won playing cards or stole away after slaughtering your family. I don’t aim to break you and reshape you. I just want you, Valentina. You as you are. The claiming is because… Well, it’s not merely for your safety. It’s the only recourse I have to bind myself to you. I could marry you, but no one would honor it.”

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