11. The Vicious Prince

The warg between my legs snarls, the sound vibrating through me. I lick my lips, squeezing my heels against her ribs to urge her forward. My squad follows me, spears and bows at the ready as we advance through the woods towards the open meadow. Only a few more steps…

I kick her and we leap forward into motion, the wind tearing through my hair with reckless abandon. I can feel the ache as the young horns on my forehead grow, too fast for anything natural, my skin tearing and blood running down my face as the wild magic of Faery changes my body towards the monstrousness I”ve chosen to embrace for my beloved paramour.

I bare my sharpened teeth. Faery knows me. Faery loves me. I won”t ever be alone.

”You look like you want to eat him, love.” My paramour runs her tongue along my throat, the promise of heated nights behind the caress. ”Are you going to make him bleed or come?”

”Both, I think,” I purr, wrapping my new tail around her bare thigh, hard enough that the silver bones of my bare spine scrape her skin where they”ve grown through my flesh, the hint of blood warming the air. I smell it so much more clearly day by day, giving control of my body over to the woman I love and the magic of Faery. ”I could bite his cock while he spills. Would you like that?”

She whimpers, pain as much a pleasure for her as any gentle touch. ”Make him scream?”

For her, I”ll do anything. I can be a monster if she longs for it. I”m already becoming one.

I hiss as my claws catch on my thigh, tearing the skin open. ”Fuck. Fucking black night!”

I hate it, love it, want every part of my body to reflect the truth of my soul and yet despise that it makes me bleed. A man should only ever bleed from battle or sex, never from stupid fucking accidents because he doesn”t understand his own body anymore—

”I liked you better when you were kinder.” Her voice is dismissive. Disappointed. She has nothing left to ruin, and now I mean nothing to her.

”When have I ever been kind?” I sneer, hating the unhappiness that twists in my gut. I shouldn”t care that she doesn”t want me anymore, but I can”t bear that she”s leaving. I want to keep what I”ve taken, whether that”s prey or a paramour.

How dare she?

She made me this. I threw myself into the teeth of Faery for her. I wear horns and claws and bare silver bone for her. How can she hate me now? I did it for her.

The branches lash me as I race my warg through the woods, rage and stymied desire burning through me like a forest fire. I don”t care, I can”t care, I won”t care, it doesn”t matter what I lose—

The elk doe that had been my lover runs through the forest, fleet and terrified, her fear stark on my tongue. Just a game, it was always just a game, but it”s not a game any longer. I have nothing left to lose.

Any man can call on the Wild Hunt if he”s willing to forget everything but the taste of his prey”s blood. To give up his body, and become a hound.

My body belonged to her. I can”t bear to look at myself—to feel myself. I don”t even have a body to lose.

I”m screaming, my throat torn by my howl, blood on my tongue and pain searing through my soul. I just want to forget—

”Please! Take it away!”

Nuada stroked my back as I shook, tears running down my face. I could smell blood, taste it in my mouth, the inside of my cheek throbbing where I”d bitten through it.

”What am I?” I asked with a sob, my muscles so tight they hurt.

”A hound,” he said, tilting my face up to look at him. ”And a man.” He slid his fingers under mine with a grunt, pulling my silver claws out of his thigh. Blood soaked into his clothing, turning the fur red.

I stared at the wound in stark horror. I”d punctured through leather without meaning to, my claws turned as sharp as the finest blades.

”I cannot undo what joining the Hunt did to you,” Nuada said, his voice serious. ”You are still as much a hound as you were when you laid your head on my knee. All I”ve done is unbind the memories you begged me to take from you.” One corner of his mouth tugged back in a sad smile. ”They”re fresh in your mind again, and your body is thus a great deal like it was when you first called upon me. But the shape of a hound is still yours, if you desire it.”

”I killed her, didn”t I?” I said, looking down at my bloody hands as I slid back off of Nuada”s lap to kneel at his feet. ”I… killed her. My… lover.”

”You did.” He said the words without pity or judgment, nothing in them but calm assessment. ”You”ve slain many, as have I. She made a vicious killer out of you, and in the end you came for her with silver jaws.”

My tail scraped across the stone, as long and horrible as the Dullahan”s whip of spine. We were more alike than I had ever believed.

”Will Lexi still… love me?” I asked, wanting to whine again.

”I don”t know.” Nuada sighed, looking away. ”If I knew what would win her, I wouldn”t be sitting out here under the stars, yearning for her to desire even a word of conversation with me. If I knew…” He fell silent, sorrow and frustration tensing his face and shoulders. ”There”s little I wouldn”t do, but I don”t know where to begin, and I”m far more dangerous than even you. If I err…” His jaw tensed. ”It doesn”t bear thinking of.”

”…Will you come with me?” I asked, looking up at him, the unfamiliar feel of my man”s body leaving me unsettled. ”She… she likes when I come to her. Maybe if you…”

He huffed a laugh, tousling my hair. ”I”ll come, but not for her,” he said, shoving himself up and offering me his hand. ”You were mine for a long time, and through her you still are.” A small smile touched his mouth. ”Come with me, Key. Let”s get a little of that blood off of you, and some of my clothing on you instead. A dog may walk around with his cock bare, but humans tend to disapprove of such things in men.”

I did whine, then, in protest, but I still set my hand in his and let Nuada lift me to my feet. My knife-like silver talons cut into his hand, but the Master didn”t flinch, curling blue lines in the shape of claws coloring his skin beneath the bloom of blood.

Nuada walked with me, every stride getting a little easier as I got used to the memory of my body. My balance felt odd, my long tail curling through the air and my flat feet holding my weight differently than the lifted stride of a hound. The air smelled differently, too, the scents that caught and held my attention those of pain and injury rather than animal life.

I didn”t like who I”d been. What I”d been. I understood why I”d wanted to forget—why I”d needed to forget. But I wasn”t the same as I”d been with blood in my mouth and agony in my veins, and the woman I”d fixed my heart on wasn”t one who would twist me until I broke.

The man who had been my Master, who had answered my call and given me a home at his side, sat me down in a room with a basin fed by a clear spring, and washed the blood off of me. It was on my hands and my face and my ass and my thighs, painting me everywhere bare silver bones had grown through my skin. I shivered from the cold of the natural spring against my naked skin, the chill of it making my body ache where my metal tail and spine touched my skin.

Nuada, Hunter and Healer, washed me like a lover. He dressed me in his clothing. He walked with me to his bedroom, which he”d given over to me and to Lexi, and kissed me on my forehead like a benediction.

”You”ve always been worth loving, Key,” he said gravely, looking into my eyes. ”You are a loyal hound, and a loyal man. She”s lucky to have you.”

”I”m not the only one she has,” I said, searching his expression.

He smiled, the expression dark with despair. ”But you”re the one she loves.”

”Nuada…”

He shook his head. ”Don”t,” he said, with the edge of command to it, something I thought he didn”t even know he was doing. ”I cannot—” He stopped, closing his eyes, his breathing shallow and ears shifting. ”I cannot even begin to hope,” Nuada said, his voice tight. ”If I”m ever wrong…”

With a soft sound, I leaned my face up and kissed him full on the mouth.

Nuada made a sound of surprise, jerking back, startled out of his despair.

I smirked up at him, enjoying his shock. ”She”s first in my heart, but I was yours for a long time, Nuada, and through her, I still am,” I told him. ”If she”s not ready for love that is red and sharp and wet, perhaps we hunters can comfort each other. I still care for you, Nuada.”

”And I, for you.” He ruffled my hair, an easy smile on his face. ”Go talk to her.”

”Yes, Master,” I said, smiling back up at him.

”I”m not your master.” He sounded amused.

”I know,” I said, and opened the door to face my soulmate.