“The wards keep you from leaving as well,” War snarls. He wants me with every fiber of his being, but he doesn’t yet trust me.The feeling is mutual.
I sit up and pull the furs with me, covering my breasts. “So he won’t find me?”
Conquest drapes a protective arm around my shoulders. “No one will find you, Imogen. This is your home now.”
Despite being told there is no possible means of escape, I don’t feel like a prisoner. Not after what we shared last night. It felt good to give in. To surrender. And I’d rather be their peasant queen than someone else’s servant. Or a corpse, for that matter.
I nod. “Do I still have to crawl, or am I blessed enough to walk around on my own two feet?”
Famine bursts out laughing.
“Only when we play our games,” Death answers. “But otherwise, you are free to roam around wherever, andhoweveryou like.”
“Until we call for you,” War snaps.
“Very well,” I murmur.
As if reading my mind, Conquest springs from the bed and claps his hands together. “Let’s start the day by showing you to your chambers. We’ve filled it with all the lovely things you could ever dream of.”
A rush of relief washes over me. I was starting to think they were going to keep me in a cage in the dungeon.
Death places a soft kiss on my lips before I’m whisked away. “The Wild Hunt breeds in our bones… Soon, it will in yours as well.”
It’s this place, and them, that stirs these primal longings. I know it as I gaze deep into his dark eyes. This ache to hunt and chase festers like a disease. Like an insatiable craving.
His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches the revelation spark in my eyes. Soon, I will become like them…
A monster.
They weren’t lying when they said I would have everything I could ever dream of. From beautiful dresses to sensuous perfumes and creams. I have books, parchment to write my own stories on, and instruments to play. The various kitchens are stocked with sumptuous cakes and candies, decadent meats, and mouthwatering cheeses. As well as enough wine and mead to keep me dizzy for the rest of my days. Maybe in time, it will ease the burden of losing my sister, and perhaps I’ll forget all about the life I left behind.
There’s been no word from my village. The horsemen don’t like to speak of it. Every morning, I run to the largest terrace, the one that faces east, toward home. It’s miles away, but it makes me feel closer to Lucy. I talk to her even though she’ll never hear my words. I carry on conversations as if she were right besideme. And then I pray to the gods for her safety. I plead with them to spare her from the wrath of vile men and vengeful saints.
With the final day of Yule approaching, I can’t help but look forward to the lightness of the spring equinox. These past weeks have been an awakening, but it has been a brutal winter. Each of my horsemen has their own depraved tastes, enacting them out on my body every night until I can barely keep my eyes open.
Death doesn’t mind if I’m asleep. His appetite is voracious, and I often wake up in the middle of the night with his cock buried deep inside me. I was startled at first, but I’ve begun to crave it. Need it even.
And so tonight, after waking from a restless sleep, I can’t mask my disappointment when I find my giant bed of furs empty. I pull my robe on and creep barefoot through the castle in search of them with an ache between my thighs.
Voices carry from the great hall; I follow the sound, my heart racing. I have never wanted men the way I do them. In my youth, I sometimes fantasized about taking a lover. But my hopes were shattered the day my parents sat me down to tell me of the great sacrifice I’d soon make. I was barely a girl, let alone a woman, when my destiny was decided for me. I stopped dreaming soon after. What was the point of craving carnal things if I was to never experience them?
The Four Horsemen have set me free. They’ve broken me and pieced me back together. With each passing day, my fear dissipates. No one is going to take me away from them. I am bound to them and this place. It is where I belong.
My thighs are wet by the time I reach the room. But I don’t expect what I find. I gasp as I take in the transformation. The entire hall is lit with candles. The stone hearth blazes with flames that lick around a pile of yule logs. Garlands of dark-green pine and ivy decorate the mantle.
And in the center of the room, my four horsemen sip from their goblets. Scents of cinnamon sticks and apples waft through the air.Mulled cider. It is divine. My mouth salivates. For the drink, and for them.
They are all muscle and chiseled features, strong and fierce like warriors. Dressed in all black, they gather around the table expecting me.
Conquest’s eyes light up when I make my presence known. I feel the heat rush through my body, my skin so damp, the thin cotton nightdress clings to me like a glove.
A low growl hums from War’s chest. He pats the inside of his thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”
I swallow hard and shuffle forward, still mesmerized by the decorations. When I’m within his reach, he yanks my hips, pulling me down to his lap. His cock swells against my ass.
Death hands me a goblet. “Happy Yule, little doe. Do you like what we’ve done?”
I nod before I take a sip of the delectable cider. The warm spice coats my tongue, causing me to moan into the goblet. “You did all of this for me?”
