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  Scrambling off Anleeh, Siara stood and rearranged her cloak, brushing at the snow stuck to it. “Please excuse me.”

  Anleeh rested his head in the snow and closed his eyes. “Why are you apologizing?”

  “For knocking you down.”

  “Do you really think that I want an apology because you showed me how great your desire is? How strong the beast of your passion is?”

  “I am…”

  “Incredible.”

  “Wanton.”

  “Wanton?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “When I was younger, still a student at the college, there was a girl older than I, who was…”

  “Wanton?” His voice lilted in amusement.

  “Yes.” Siara voice was cold and stiff in reaction to his amusement. “She lay with many of the guard, and as time passed, the guards began to threat her differently … poorly. They would say mean things to her, and pinch at her and grab her, but she still pressed herself against them, smiled even when her eyes were sad.”

  Anleeh sat up, his face gone serious as her story unfolded. “What happened?”

  “We, the other girls and I, didn’t understand. When we asked the Head Mistress what was wrong, she told us the girl was wanton, and that to so shamelessly admit desire and express it to men was to invite their contempt.”

  “Siara,” Anleeh rose, cupping her chin and tilting it so their eyes could meet. He wanted her to see the seriousness in his face. “That girl’s behavior was dangerous. The guards are men, only that, and what her behavior taught them was that she did not value herself or her sexuality, and so they did not value it, or her.”

  “What she did … is what I now do with you.”

  “No. What you do is listen to your beast. It is your own pleasure you seek, not my touch. I am the first man you have allowed close, and so your beast demands that you force me to satisfy it.

  “It is not me you lust after, but your own pleasure and satisfaction, and that is a very beautiful thing, one I am privileged to share.”

  Siara lowered her eyes, hiding her reaction to his words. He might wish it were different, that her desire were truly for him, but it was not so. She was a sexual being, and should not be ashamed of it.

  He stroked a thumb across her lower lip as a strong gust of wind whipped her hair around her face, locks of hair curling around his wrist like ropes. Anleeh took a breath that smelled of green trees, dark earth, and … a storm. His thumb stilled against her lip, Siara sensed a shift in his attention.

  “Anleeh?”

  “We must go.”

  “What’s wrong? What do you hear? Are we in danger?”

  “It is not what I hear or see, but what I smell that presents the danger.” Slipping her hand into his, Anleeh started off between the trees, tugging her behind him.

  “What do you smell?”

  “A storm.”

  “You can smell storms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you smell all weather?”

  “Storms and summer showers, and only in Den.”

  Reaching the horses they separated, Siara going to retrieve her mare who’d wandered away from the other three. Anleeh was glad they’d given the horses a chance to rest, for they would not stop again.

  Grabbing his horse’s bridle Anleeh started leading the animals out of the forest, Siara leading her mare behind the other three.

  Back on the path Anleeh helped Siara mount, making small adjustments to the saddle and Siara’s stirrups. Resting a hand on her knee, Anleeh claimed her attention.

  “We will ride, and ride hard, until we reach the cabin.”

  “I do not understand the danger.”

  “There is a snowstorm coming in. With it will come snow and bitter chill. We are too far up the mountain to retreat to a place where the snow will not fall. If we do not find shelter the snow will cover us and freeze us, slowly. I did not plan to die today.”

  “I’m ready to ride,” she said

  With a distracted nod he moved away and mounted his own horse, spurring all the animals into action.

  Raising the pace to a canter, Anleeh tasted the air once more. They might make it.

  “Grab the blanket!”

  “What?”

  “The blanket!”

  Following his pointing finger, Siara turned and saw one of the horse blankets lying outside the stable. Though it could only have been there for a matter of moments, it was already half buried in snow.

  Racing to the stable door, she snatched the blanket and shook it out. Looking up she was frozen by the sight of the world outside.

  Everything was white. The ground, air and sky were all the same pale color. Had she not been able to feel the earth beneath her boots, Siara would not have been able to distinguish sky from ground.

  “Siara! Grab the blanket and close the door!”

  His words were barely audible over the howling of the wind, which accompanied the flurry of white. Siara grabbed the stable door and pulled it closed. Anleeh had barely been able to push it open wide enough to get the horses through. The noise dimmed once the door was shut, but air still screamed through crevices in the walls.

  Siara rushed the blanket to one of the newly unburdened horses and tossed it over the animal’s back. Head bent low, coat twitching with shivers, Siara wasn’t sure the horse would survive the night.

  “Anleeh, look at this one, look how she shivers.”

  “They’ll be fine; they have water, warmth and food. As long as they are inside they will warm up. They, like us, are just very cold.”

  Siara could see snowflakes on Anleeh’s lashes, and as he spoke he blinked them away. He turned to look around the stable. The saddles and bridles were stacked in one corner, their bags stacked near the center of one of the long walls.

  Siara had expected something similar to last night’s roofed area, but this was a real stable. There were six stalls all at one end of the room; the rest of the space was open, though a large pile of firewood and several chests indicated that, like the last cabin, people took care of the dwelling. Anleeh stepped out of the stall and pulled the simple rope across the opening, hooking the loop over a press-stud in the outside wall of the stall.

  “Come, now that the horses are settled, it is time for us to be.”

  Together they gathered their bags. Anleeh opened the door connecting the stable to the cabin, this one again protected by symbol-magic, and led the way into the one-room cabin. It was pitch dark, frighteningly so, and Siara hovered in the doorway. The light from the small fire they had burning in a brazier in the stable for the horses did not illuminate the murky interior of the cabin.

  Light flashed as Anleeh struck the flint, sparking thin strips of wood he would use to start the larger fire. The longer she stood still, waiting for warmth, the harder Siara’s shaking grew. When the tinder caught, Anleeh placed several of the larger logs into a triangle shape over the baby flame.

  “It is not warm yet, but come close to the fire.”

  Siara made her way over, each movement pressing frigid garments against her body. Anleeh seated himself on one of their bags and opened his legs. “Come sit.”

  Siara stepped between his legs. For a moment it felt that her beast would come to life as her memory of last night surfaced, but even her beast was frozen.

  Turning her back to Anleeh, Siara seated herself between his legs. Leaning forward, Anleeh molded his body to hers. The growing fire warmed her front as he warmed her back.

  “Your-r-r feet?” she asked.

  Cheek resting on her head, he opened his cloak, wrapping it around her also. “What was that, lover?”

  “Feet.”

  “Ahhh, my feet. No, I am fine.”

  “But-t-t you need to be careful, already got so cold today.”

  “You are right, but my body is beginning to remember the cold, and knows how to cope. You do not; your body has never felt this before.”

 
; “It was like being inside a cold wet cloud.”

  “Yes it was.” They were silent for a moment, watching the logs slowly catch. “Thank you for helping with the horses.”

  “Of course.”

  Siara turned her head and rested it against Anleeh’s chest. They hadn’t beaten the storm, instead they’d raced with it. The edge, where only light flakes fell, had been their companion to the top. When the cabin came into view, the storm had started in earnest, leaving them and the horses to fight thought icy pellets.

  “Breathe, lover.”

  “I am.”

  The higher they climbed, the harder Siara had found it to breathe. Between the height and the cold, each breath felt like dagger through her chest, but she was so accustomed to it now that Siara no longer even heard the rattling sound of her own breathing.

  “I know this is hard on you. Had the storm not come we would have gone slower, stopped to let you rest.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Nay. You are not, but you will be.”

  Wrapped in his arms, Siara slowly warmed, and with the warmth came the deep need for sleep.

  “I’m so tired.” Siara let her eyes drift closed even as she yawned.

  “The cold leaches the strength from you. It is barely late afternoon.”

  “Sleep?”

  “Yes, go to sleep, I will wake you.”

  Wrapped in his arms, safe and warm, she slept.

  Chapter Six

  Anleeh held her until she was no longer chilled, and then he held her a bit longer because it pleased him to do so. He was amazed by her fortitude and bravery. Snow had been his winter companion since birth, and even he had feared the whiteout they had ridden through. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her.

  Anleeh eased her down on her side, tucking the pack he’d been sitting on beneath her head and removing his own cloak to spread over her legs.

  Her sleep was actually a blessing, for it allowed him some time alone to think and prepare for what they would do tonight. There had been no time to hunt so they would have to eat salted meat and the last of the bread. After that he would show her exactly why he had cured the rabbit skins from last night. And then…

  Anleeh had been with a virgin once before, here, in Den, not long before he left for the Great City. The sister of one of his close friends had flirted shamelessly with him, arousing him only to scamper away. The teasing had gone on for months until he cornered her in the woods one spring day and stripped her down.

  Looking back, Anleeh winced. He hadn’t known the first thing about bed-skill, all he’d had was a nice sized prick. But that’s what the girl had wanted. He’d ridden her hard after breaching her maidenhead, the girl holding tight to his shoulders. Her tight sheath had tempted him to spill within her but he’d pulled out, too much the young warrior to find the idea of a child appealing.

  When he’d rolled off her, the girl had risen, kissed him, and then danced away to crow to her friends at having lost her virginity to the wild and ruthless Anleeh.

  Tonight would be different. Quietly unpacking their bags, Anleeh smiled to himself. It would be a night Siara would never forget, he would be sure of that. Older, and oh so much wiser now, Anleeh was aroused by the idea of being her first and imagined the look on her face. Be it shock, nervousness, uncertainty, or fear, all would be wiped away by pleasure.

  One item of concern was her beast. He no longer doubted that a beast, equal of any of the women of Den, lived in her. Control of that beast, enough so that she would not hurt herself tonight, would come through her submission.

  Though he longed to wake her with sweet kisses, Anleeh knew it would be best to bend her to his will from the moment she woke. Softness towards her was not serving him well. The last thing he’d ever expected, to feel something for her, was beginning to happen.

  His smile now wry, Anleeh finished unpacking their food. He, the former slave, known for his raffish manner and sense of humor, was falling for the stern and plain Headmistress of the College turned Royal Historian. What a strange path the Goddess had laid for him. His life was nothing like he’d imagined as a barefoot boy dreaming of a warrior’s glory.

  Despite, or because of, the unexpected path of his life, Anleeh was very religious, much more so than he liked to admit. Spilling to his knees, Anleeh placed a closed fist over his heart and bowed his head, whispering a small prayer to the Goddess, for both continued blessings and guidance.

  “Awake.”

  Siara’s eyes popped open, her normal grumpy transition from sleep to awake forced away by the harsh tone. Heart thumping, she sat up and turned. Anleeh stood there and her heart calmed at the sight; the voice had been so harsh she’d half expected to see some dangerous stranger.

  Slumping in relief as her heartbeat slowed, Siara rubbed her eyes and yawned. “What’s wrong?”

  “You are not to speak.”

  Suddenly, Siara understood. The time for more training, and for her to lose her virginity, was upon them.

  With purpose, she stood, and, though she was afraid, she would not show her fear. She shed her cloak and it pooled at her feet with his. Anleeh just watched her.

  Stepping wide, Siara bent and efficiently stripped off the skins protecting her legs and unlaced her boots, stepping out of them. Letting everything drop in an untidy heap, she straightened and looked at Anleeh, her chin raised in challenge.

  Anleeh unfolded his arms and took two steps forward, deliberately raking her up and down with his gaze. When their eyes met again, he acknowledged her challenge, her obedient defiance, and demanded that she strip, all with his gaze alone.

  Stepping together once more, Siara unlaced her leggings and slowly stripped them off. When she straightened, her tunic fell to the top of her thighs, hiding her sex. Teasingly Siara paused, her legs slowly slipping against one another, her breasts and sex concealed.

  Anleeh took a threatening step forward.

  Siara stripped off her tunic.

  Without prompting, she clasped her hands together behind her back and spread her legs once more; with a sigh of nervous anticipation, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back.

  In her mind she could feel her beast, a sleek and dangerous animal, crouched low and circling … circling with Anleeh’s beast. His beast was a dim shadow in the darkness of her mind, bigger than hers, its form not as visible to her. It snarled and the sound vibrated through her body, tingling in her nipples and sex. She moaned, the snarl became a growl, but this came from Anleeh’s mouth, not his beast. Eyes opening just in time to see Anleeh’s lips descend upon hers, Siara could not hold herself still as his tongue swooped inside her mouth, claiming it. Arms twining around his shoulders, she tore at his shirt with her nails. She sank her teeth into his lower lip, wishing she could feel his flesh beneath her hands.

  Anleeh lifted her, fingers digging into the swell of her ass, and Siara wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting the friction of his laces against her sex. Without support she could not press against him the way she wanted. Unwilling to break their kiss to speak of her desires, Siara grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked.

  Anleeh slid his grip to her hips, yanking her away from him. Siara’s feet hit the floor with a thump even as he broke their kiss.

  “Go—to the wall,” Anleeh panted, his fists rhythmically clenching.

  Siara ran to the wall, pressing her back against it, hungry eyes watching him, waiting for him, but he shook his head.

  “Turn around, hands against the wall.”

  Siara turned and pressed herself against the logs, the rough sensation just this side of painful. The bark scraped her breasts, feeding the storm of need that raged in her as surely as the snow storm raged outside.

  Then Anleeh’s hands were on her hips, and she thought, please let it be now. Instead he tugged on her hips, making her walk backwards.

  “Keep your hands against the wall.”

  Forced to bend as he pulled her lower body away, Siara was soo
n crooked at the waist, arms outstretched to keep her hands on the wall.

  Anleeh ran his hands up and down her thighs and ass, stroking her like he would stroke the flank of his horse. “I could take you like this, spill your virgin blood as you stand braced against the wall.” Yes, please. “But I will not.” Curses.

  “Instead I will give you part of the punishment you deserve. A few spankings to remind you that you serve my pleasure, not the other way around.”

  Stepping to the side, Anleeh raised his hand and brought it down with a hard smack on her left ass cheek. Siara yelped, but the blow jiggled her sex and the yelp ended in a moan of pleasure.

  “Did that hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it feel good?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perfect.”

  Smack! He struck her again, and then a third time. Each blow was harder than the last, the pleasure struggling through the pain to warm her sex.

  “How many blows do you deserve for being such a wanton?” There was a smile in his voice as he used her word against her.

  “I-I don’t know. How many should I have?”

  “As many as please me of course.” Smack! Smack!

  He landed the next blow even harder and she cried out in pain.

  “Did that hurt?”

  “Oh, yes it did, please, please…”

  “Please what?”

  “Stop, nay, don’t, don’t stop, please. It hurts.” Her words tumbled and rolled, out of her control.

  “Did it feel good?”

  She whimpered, head thrashing, her hair sliding against her back. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  The pain came again and again, melted with the deviant pleasure she took from having him treat her this way. She’d never given up control as she did with him, never had someone strong enough to take that control away.

  When a sharp blow landed hard on the crease between her left thigh and buttock, Siara gasped and bit into her lip, sinking into the pleasure and pain, until they were the same, until her mind stopped trying to dissect what was happening, and deep in her belly a new part of her, something not quite human, growled.