Caught in the Fox’s Teeth

Chapter 8: Taryn

When Dryndenn finally rolls off of me it is with a sigh of contentment. I sit up abruptly and stand on unsteady feet, straightening up my skirts. My hand runs over a damp spot on my dress where his come has leaked through. I gag. The lord laughs coldly at me, pleased with himself and his ability to disgust me beyond measure. “Better on you, than in you, yes? We can always rectify the situation should you find the former so abhorrent.” I cringe at his vulgarity. He groans biting his bottom lip, eyeing me up and down, my breasts still exposed to the air and the torn bodice of my dress streaked with his lordly come. Running a hand over his stubbled jaw, the lord continues to scrutinize every detail of my body. I feel a flush creeping over my pale skin. “If you are as fine a lay as I think you are, then I’m sure I can persuade my son to forgive his weak-willed father for having an insatiable appetite for the flesh. After all, he should be thanking me for gifting you to him and what better way to show appreciation than to let me take his betrothed on a test ride. I need to make sure you are adequate, right? I mean… you would not buy a lame horse and how would you know it was lame if you did not see it in action, eh?” He winks at me, arms behind his head as he lies on my bed without a care in the world. What a f*****g pig!

“Get out!” I bark. The lord laughs again, denying my order. My temper flares. I’m half tempted to kill the bastard on my bed. I’d almost rather have the gallows than him in my bed for another second.

“No. I’m rather comfortable here.” His eyes meet mine as he sucks the slickness from his fingers. “You were wasted on Bowen. f**k's sake, girl.” He groans again. “Are you sure you wouldn’t fancy life as a mistress? I can be very generous. Ask Sorsha if you want, she will say the same.” The wolfish grin grows wider. Gods I hate this man.

“Quit talking about my husband like that! He doesn’t deserve to have his widow mocked and molested! Bowen was a good man! It’s a marvel he was so decent when he is a product of your filthy lineage.” The smirk disappears. Dark eyes narrow to slits. “I would not f**k you if you were the last man on earth. Not for all the gold in the realm. You disgust me.” My words once again lose any affect they may have had. Feeling the breeze blowing over my breasts I hurry and try to collect the ripped pieces of my gown to cover my exposed flesh. I’m sure I came off as very composed and serious with my t**s out, bouncing in the old pervert's face as his come dries on me.

“I will speak of my foolish son any way I so choose. That is what he was. A good man but foolish, nonetheless. He had a good and beautiful woman at his side but scarcely touched her? Come now. You cannot blame me for speaking the truth of the matter. Being my mistress is not without its perks. You will share my bed on occasion, but our contact will be strictly physical. There is no obligation to love or care for one another. We will f**k and then you can retire to your own wing of my manse to live a life of luxury until I require your services again.” He shrugs and eyes me with that damned smirk.

“I wish to go home to my father in Daodan. I’ll not stay here. If you will not see to the arrangements, then I will see to them myself. I have no desire to bed any other Vulpin’s in what I hope is a very long and happy life. I turn towards my dresser so I can get on something decent. Being this exposed to the bastard before me is like playing with fire. I don’t wish to tempt him any further with my flesh and judging by the hungry look in his eyes, I am on borrowed time.

The stomping of boots doesn’t register over the thumping of my heart. The grip on my shoulder feels like it’s being crushed in a vise. “This is your home now, Taryn. We are your family. As I said, I bought and paid for you, and you’ll do well to remember your role here. You will further our bloodline whether you want to or not. If you’ve a problem with that, then take it up with the Gods.” I move to spit in his face. Dryndenn pinches my nose and mouth shut with a quickness I hardly register. “Listen well, girl. I can make things exceedingly difficult for you. I could take you as my lover and I am not the gentle sort. The kindness I paid you moments ago? That was as gentle as I get and that was only the appetizer. Tell me. Have you seen the bruises on the women downstairs? Hm?” His hand trembles as he pushes my head against the wall. I fight to breathe, scraping and clawing at his hefty arm all while my vision darkens. I slap Dryndenn’s powerful chest, pleading with my eyes as they focus in and out on the man who is slowly suffocating me.

“Or,” he begins with a purr, releasing my nose and mouth. I fall to my knees rasping and choking for air. Deep and greedy gulps of air are pulled through my swollen air passages. I can’t take in enough. “So dramatic.” He sighs, walking away from me to examine some of my tchotchkes that have captured his attention. “I was going to say, girl… I can make things easy on you. Leave you here to your home and marry you off to the man you should have married in the first place. I should have listened to my second born when he suggested as much.” Setting down the bauble he currently holds, he moves onto the next, idly twirling and touching almost every one of my treasures. Precious tokens from a past in a country far from this one. “I can be a good father to you. Elzbith will be a good mother. We will spoil your children rotten. Neither you nor your offspring would have a single desire I would not grant—”

“Except the request to send me back to my homeland.” I cough, sputtering and gasping as if the words themselves choke me. With a growl, my lord rakes his hand across the shelf, sending my treasures crashing to the ground. I watch as glass, crystal, and ceramics shatter into hundreds of pieces. My heart shatters along with them. They are just things, but I mourn their loss all the same. They were a small collection of things that represent who I am. It’s as if Dryndenn has wiped out all evidence of myself in one fell swoop. As if I couldn’t possibly suffer any more, I’m dealt another blow. I curl in on myself, praying this horrible day will end already.

“Enough. You will either bear Odin’s child… or mine. Odin will at least let you keep his. Look at it this way, have you seen or heard of any bastards of mine thus far?” Fire burns in his eyes as he c***s a cruel brow at me. I try to think of any rumored and illegitimate offspring but can’t seem to recall any. How many of his women had their babes ripped from them? My head spins with the unending cruelty of this man. Did he just make them drink contraceptive teas or was there more sinister methods at play? I don’t dare ask. I decide I don’t want to know.

I swallow hard but gather all my courage. “You’re an evil man, Dryndenn Vulpin.”

He crunches over my destroyed belongings, crouching over my weakened form. A tilt of his finger holds my head in place. I can’t look away. “And don’t you forget it, love. Think on what I’ve said. You can do things Odin’s way, or mine. It’s that simple.” Something catches Dryndenn’s eye. One of my glass trinkets survived the m******e. I give him a pleading look. He smiles warmly and trods over to the bauble. Holding it between his thick fingers, the lord analyzes the item. It’s a small glass rabbit. The symbol of my house. “It only seems appropriate that as a rabbit, you are now caught between the fox’s teeth.” He reaches out to pass me the figurine but purposefully drops it before my fingers can graze the smooth surface. I watch it fall once more to the ground before it is stomped beneath a heavy boot. “Be well, daughter. Clean yourself up; you look as if you’ve had a good tussle in the sheets and you’ve got come on your dress. I will see you at dinner.” Dryndenn winks and smiles, sucking on his offending fingers once more with a cruel light in his eyes. The lecherous fucker. I wish it was his body we rolled into a hole instead of Bowen’s.

With the finality of his weighted words, he leaves my room. I view myself slinking to the floor as if I am a mere observer rather than a victim.