The day is long, the sun high in the sky when the hunter’s bellows sound again from the wood line. The tense atmosphere has shifted to something of excitement, a crown of twigs and light blue frosted flowers adorns my head. The females and I are sprawled out on a giant blanket, chatting and gossiping about this or that. While the topic of this morning sits in my stomach like milk that’s gone off, my heart now races for another reason entirely.
Apparently, this hunt is for more than to provide food for the festival.
It’s a show of strength, of worthiness, to bed a female for the winter. The male who brings back the biggest kill gets his pick before the others. Males who catch nothing are left cold for the season. My heart ratchets in my chest, my eyes suddenly glued to my hands, refusing to rise like the others.
Not that I don’t want to, but I’m… nervous. Unreasonably so, and I think I missed him. Despite my irritation with him not being upfront immediately, and with the Oozarians for the same reason. I just really want to see him, for him to choose me. Surely, he would, right? Could I be expected to live in the house while he beds another female for the winter?
The thought makes sickness pool in my gut. It’s silly, I know that. I’m a breeder, a surrogate. He’s… my boss if you want to boil things down but—
A gasp breaks through my ranting. My wide eyes slamming to Elat at my side before her eyes meet mine. “Maybe you should stand.”
I stumble, nearly falling on my ass in my rush to get to my feet and all thoughts blank, like hitting the delete on a holo message halfway through.
Fafnir leads the group, his long-plaited hair mussed, spear strapped to his back. His eyes are narrowed, I can’t tell from here, but I know they’d be rimmed red if I were closer as he scans the crowd for—
Me.
My chest heaves as my eyes drop to the equally as giant, blue toned…
“What are those?” I whisper.
“Valkyra.” Another woman whispers back.
Valkyra?
My nickname.
They look like giant elk, their blueish antlers dusted in glittering frost. He’s dragging them behind him, antlers gripped in his fists. Their white, shaggy fur smattered with a deep blue… blood?
“They’re incredibly elusive, stubborn, hunting parties see maybe one or two a season. They’re hard to kill, like a delicacy.”
He killed two.
Another woman says something in their native language, a few more chiming in.
My eyes snap to Valoryx, lumbering out of the wood line, and now it makes sense why, like the other mounts, he isn’t hauling his master’s kill.
He was full already.
“It’s a shame he’s war mad,” another female offers, and I can’t help the way my chest swells with pride.
Fafnir eats up the ground between us like it’s nothing, and soon enough, he’s in front of me. Dropping the two giant beasts at his back as he leans down, pressing his forehead to mine. The hint of red fading into brown. The crowd around us giggles and laughs as other males make their requests of a bed partner known. “Little female.” He gruffs, making something deep in my belly flutter.
“Y-you’re choosing me.”
“If you find me worthy.”
A crazed, breathless laugh escapes me as I stand up on my toes, my hands flying out to grip his horns, suddenly desperate to have his lips on mine.
“I offer myself, human,” another gruff voice cuts in.
Moment gone.
Fafnir freezes, red flaring in his eyes before he shakes it free, rising as another male lingers back, glaring right back at him, a large spikey… dog creature tied to what I assume is his mount. Judging by the way Valoryx halts his lapping at a nearby trough and snarls in his direction. The deep growl builds in Fafnir’s chest as his bloody hand comes to rest on the back of my neck. His squeeze should feel threatening, given what I know, but it’s anything but. It’s warm… safe.
The new male eyes the action with no small amount of confusion and concern in his expression. He doesn’t want me, per se. He wants Fafnir not to have me.
“Thank you…but I choose Fafnir.” I answer, trying to hide my smile as a burst of breath rushes from my giant.
Even with being the clear winner of the hunt by a landslide… and maybe a little overkill, he was still worried I’d choose another over him.
The man lingers like he wants to argue but thinks better of it, bowing his head to me and shooting daggers at Fafnir before calling for his mount to follow. He doesn’t approach another female but drops his kill in the pile.
Fafnir turns to me again, frowning deeply as I reach up, gesturing at him to bend for me. He does, his earthy smell dancing along my tongue. My fist grips the base of his horn, my lips tickling his ear, making it twitch, and judging by the gasp that surrounds us, perhaps I shouldn’t be doing this, but I ignore them. “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”
His eyes turn to mine, a challenge there. Daring me to continue, I don’t, but I don’t release him either. My thumb rubs against the base of his horn, where rough bone meets soft hair. His strong jaw clenching and unclenching a few times before he grunts. I release him, ensuring he sees my pointed glare as he lifts me off my feet, hauling me onto his shoulders. Vertigo hits me hard, the height dizzying as I grip his horns again, frowning at how much warmer they feel. Fafnir is silent as he regains his grip on the Valkyra, dragging them to the pile with the others. I know I’m only up here because Valoryx is currently occupied, but it doesn’t slow the butterflies in my stomach.
Fafnir
I watch my female.
Her movements are skilled and unhurried, as she and the other females butcher the meat. Her soft skin coated in lapis tinted blood to her elbows. I’m pleased to see they have taken her in without hesitation, even if it means my worries haven’t gone unfounded.
She knows.
Or at least knows enough.
Yet she held onto me, smiled at me, and lingered. She touched my horns and rolled her eyes.
She chose me, despite my shame.
It honors me as much as it irritates. My back presses into the side of the cold building as they finish up. With night edging the horizon, I’m eager to have her back at my side. In the three years since I returned from war, I hadn’t fathomed I could be picked. The open stares of hostility and fear from the very people who had honored and elevated me for my valor ensured I knew where I stood. I had done something never done before, had honored our gods in a way others could not. I was a ticking time bomb, a male unright. A danger, liability.
War mad, long before I had first seen signs.
It hadn’t mattered that it wasn’t true then, but I hadn’t bothered to correct them.
The berserker pushes at my chest, desperate to take our skin. To rip the lingering males apart as they appraise what’s ours. The dishonor they show me as they look on at my female with pity, worry… fear. I can smell it on them, and it does little to calm the inferno in my chest. They look at me as if I’ll rip into her at a moment’s notice, as if she needs saving… by them. As if they plan to rush her to a secure place, her pliant, soft body trembling.
“Silence your growling or you’ll have everyone in a flurry.”
My eyes cut to Helgoid. Her wise eyes wrinkled and deep set with age, while her stature and pride show none of it. Save for the pale gray that mars her fur and hair. As the elder among us, she mediates more than rules. What she sees in my eyes shakes her. I don’t bother to hide it. Her spotted knobby hand comes to her chest as she clears her throat. Looking away, unable to bear the sight of me. “Is it true then?” she breathes.
“Wasn’t it always?” I toss back as I stalk away from my dam, heading for Lenora as she washes her arms clear of blood. Vowing I will never see her so coated again.
Even if it means our contract is void, line dead, my name forgotten.
