I lay back on the floor and stare up at the high ceiling. It’s so far away I can barely make out the intricate designs that are etched into it. My horsemen stretch out around me, their breaths heavy as they allow me to process their admission.
My heart is heavy, racing with fear and sadness. I remember the longing I felt as a girl, that pull to the woods. At times, it seemed the whispers in the wind called to me. But I chalked it up to an overreactive imagination. Perhaps it was them, centuries of servitude, their voices trying to reach me through time and space.Hundreds of cries.
It sounds like madness and folly. Like a bedtime story meant to scare children away from the woods. But this is no fable. I feel their urgency in my bones. My life has always belonged to them. This has always been my fate. My destiny. The longer I ponder it, the more natural it feels. Like a long-forgotten melody that I can finally remember the words to.
I curl onto my side and tuck my knees to my chest as I gaze into the fire. The flames leap and dance within the stone hearth, reminiscent of the dream. “Why us?” I murmur.
“He wanted us to do his bidding, but we refused. So he took the one thing that meant anything to us. He knew we’d hunt you down for eternity,” Conquest drawls, his voice dripping with bitterness.
“And when you draw your last breath inthislife, we will wait for you to be reborn again. And again. Forever.” War tips my chin up to gaze into my eyes. “That isoursacrifice.”
I bury my head in his neck and breathe in the heady scent of juniper and cedar. He smells like the very earth itself, sprouted from petrified wood and ancient rituals and moondust. “The gods have not forsaken us. They have tethered us to each other.”
And I’m still trying to figure out if that’s good or bad.
As I watch the sky lay a new blanket of snow on the ground, I realize this terrace has become my sanctuary. The howls of wolves seem less frightening from up here. Deep within the forest, creatures stalk their prey, just as we do. But inside my castle of stone, on my elevated platform, I am untouchable to all who wish to harm me.
And yet the men who live inside these walls are far more dangerous than any wildling down there. But what my mind fears, my body craves. If what they say is true, they’ve left imprints on my soul and marks on my flesh that will never fade.
It’s been three weeks since my capture, and I have wanted for nothing. My belly is full, my skin is warm, and my carnal appetite has been more than satisfied. The longer I’m here, themore the shame dissipates. But the dreams have become more vivid. They play out more and more like memories, like distant echoes from my past lives.
I struggle to draw the line between cult and scripture. A line where gods and saints and devils walk this earth like shadows caught in still reflections. And all this time, the girl in the fables was me. A horrifying tale of blood and sacrifice and desperation.
But I cannot deny the peace I feel. The quiet calm that soothes my nerves whenever I am near them. When I close my eyes, my body hums with need. Our love is brutal, dark, and twisted, and yet older than the very lands this castle sits upon.
The sweet, buttery scent of freshly baked bread yanks my attention back to the present. My belly grumbles as I leave my snowy terrace in search of the delectable culprit. By the time I reach the Hall of Feasts, my mouth is watering.
Food was scarce for my family. Papa hunted as far as it was safe to go, but the animals kept their distance. And Mama did the best she could with whatever he brought home to cook. There were more than a few nights we went to bed still hungry.
Famine wraps his arms around me from behind and waves a frosted muffin in my face.
“Mmm, divine. I blameyoufor the extra meat on my bones.” I moan as the pillowy dough fills my mouth, inciting bursts of tart blueberries and rich molasses.
He chuckles as he squeezes my hips. “A well-fed woman is more agreeable. Besides, I like having more of you to grab onto.”
I giggle as I finish devouring my pastry, while scanning the table for more. I am insatiable these days. “Did we always play like this?”
Death stalks into the room and pulls out a chair. His large frame takes up most of it as he slinks down. “They wereyourgames, little doe. You taught us how to play them.”
My cheeks heat as I wait for him to break into laughter. To admit he’s teasing, but the smirk on his lips proves otherwise. “You’re not joking.”
Famine laughs as he nudges me toward a seat at the decadent table. “You have always begged us to do the most vile things to you. And we love you more for it.”
I take a big swig of mead and swallow it down hard, relishing its fizziness. A part of me has always known. These filthy things I crave were buried deep, suppressed by my own memory, yet awakened by the first set of hooves galloping in the woods.
When Conquest first swooped me up onto his horse, my heart raced with excitement as well as fear.With a desire to be claimed.
My breath hitches when War enters. His black hair hangs down his bare chest. He wears nothing but a pair of low-slung trousers, the same color as his silky strands. Moisture pools between my legs as I admire the deep V of his pelvis, the perfect muscles in his abdomen that resemble the washboard I used to wring my panties on.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re drooling, little doe.”
I lick my lips. “Because I want you, my lord.”
The room falls quiet. His eyes darken as he stalks toward me. “There’s the assertive queen I remember,” he murmurs in my ear.
I squint toward the dark entryway. Conquest is noticeably missing this morning. “Will he not be joining us for breakfast?”
“He’s off on a hunt,” Death replies.
