Winters Kiss

I have ridden this damn horse for days. She's an ornery bitch. If I don't pay attention during our short breaks she'll try and bite me when I'm melting my way out of the saddle. What's worse is the colder it gets, the meaner she becomes. We're traveling north. My thighs are bruised and angry and I can't even claim it's from a good time. This bothers me more than it should.

"Shiva, we're going to stop here for the night."

I turn partially in my seat to look at the man that rides up beside me. Logan is almost ten years my senior, a mage of the highest caliber, and one of my greatest joys is taunting him. Don't panic, dear reader, he enjoys our verbal spars as much as I do. We love to hate on each other. He is my father's pet, one of his first Chosen for our task. And I am many things, but a daddy's girl is not one of them. It was too easy for the man to become the target of my venom.

There is an army at our backs and they have already begun to slow once the word rippled through them that we're stopping. The relief and annoyance is instant. Most are pleased with the news but there are others that would rather press on further. I am one of them. "This is a shit spot to stop. The weather is coming in hard, we need something with more protection." I see the glint in his eyes, he was prepared for this argument. More likely than not he volunteered to be the bearer of bad news between my three companions. The other two do not irk me as much as this big hatted buffoon does.

He turns his horse in front of me and I have to pull mine up hard so she doesn't snap at them. This only serves to earn me more of her ire and her ears pin back as she dances around, contemplating tossing me into the snow, if I had to guess. The mages saving grace is I cannot control fire like my mother's kind can, he is equally as blessed I did not get the same talent from my father.

"Some of the other mages are recovered enough to settle us in with some barriers, we'll be safest here without the risk of an avalanche further up." It is a shitty excuse and he must read my face because he continues. "By all means, Snow Goddess, do something about it." He knows I can't. I can conjure ice and snow all day, everyday, but the weather will do whatever the hell it pleases.

I turn me and my brooding mare around and venture back into the thick of the people that have chosen to fight alongside us. Perhaps if I find Diea I will not be so tempted to freeze Logan's balls to his saddle. The little healer has always found a way to ease my temper.

~

Diea cures my bad mood by the time the tents are set up and people have gotten fires going. We share a meal in the central tent where we talk with our generals and plan. The other two, Logan and Teigal, join us shortly after. Teigal is a beast of a man, tall and broad in the shoulders. He dwarfs most of his warriors, who make normal people look like ants. Knights are a funny bunch, that way. I do not miss the look him and Diea share before the men pull up chairs and pour a round of drinks.

Diea is my opposite in nearly every way. I have taken many of my fathers traits, his silvery hair and eyes, his height, his pride and confidence. But I acquired my mothers pale skin, or so I've been told. It could have something to do with my unique magic. My people, the Kettu, are often known as Foxes of Flame. Generally we have mastery of fire of all kinds and the ears and tail of red foxes, with the ability to shift into a full one at will. You'd think, being the daughter of a Kettu and the God of Fire, I would have those things going for me. Joke's on you. My fur is white as the snow we're expecting tonight and a fire would be more likely to laugh at me than do what I ask. I am the first of my kind, a Snow Kettu, or Ice Kettu. I haven't quite chosen a name for myself.

Diea, on the other hand, is gentle. She has a wild mane of brown hair that we have never been able to tame. Her eyes sparkle like the clearest green seas. She is smaller than me in nearly every proportion and yet she is so very beautiful. Her voice is what I imagine bells and perfect night skies would sound like if they could sing. There is not a mean bone in her body, she is just as likely to heal the enemy as our own injured. People do not follow her, fight along-side her, and protect her because she is strong like Teigal or cunning like Logan. They follow her because she pulls something in their hearts that makes them want to fight for something more. She has laid out a dream in front of them and they will fight to the death to gain it... And she would die making sure they do not. This is the only thing that makes me jealous of her, and I hate myself for it. The unwavering loyalty to her is as pure as she is, and I know I will never have that.

"You haven't listened to a damn thing I've said, have you?"

That voice pulls me out of my thoughts and grinds my nerves. "I have perfected the art of ignoring you, Logan." But have you mastered ignoring me? The cold doesn't bother me like it does others. While they sit bundled in thick wool and furs I lounge comfortably in a thin tunic and breeches. Like much of my clothing it does not leave much to the imagination. I like the looks, I like the touches when I allow them. Logan has never tried but I have seen those eyes travel me on more than one occasion. It is part of our game. I flaunt, he tries to ignore, I become annoyed at being ignored, I sleep with someone else. I'm not sure how this game benefits him, but I love it.

He glares at me, those dark blue eyes are not as amused as I am right now. "I'll reiterate for you. My scryers have looked past the mountain and seen the enemies camp. When the weather passes we can expect another battle. Best to let everyone rest, but double the patrols just in case."

This was one of the few instances he and I found common ground. War, especially war against a Goddess, was nothing to sneeze at. "I'll send some of the Kettu farther north, just a few small parties to watch the paths, send one of your mirror wielders with each group and there won't be a delay in information. My people are better suited for the snow than one of your armor clad brutes, Teigal, and Diea's archers won't stand a chance in close combat if something sneaks up on them."

They agreed with the simple plan and it was settled.

It wasn't long before Teigal made some excuse to leave. A full five minutes hadn't passed before Diea followed him out. It was cute, this little secret they kept. The whole of the army knew, not just Logan and I, but we all pretended not to. They deserved to be happy, so none of us will take that from them.

Logan stretched those lanky arms of his across the table and grabbed my cup, retreating back to pour me another drink. "Do you think they know we know? Or do you think they honestly believe they're sneaky?"

We have mused over this subject before and it always makes us chuckle. He passes me back my now filled cup and I am free to stretch my legs up onto the table, crossing my boot clad ankles. Diea would have chastised me for this, but for some reason I know my secret is safe with Logan. I take a sip and the wine is warm on my tongue with heavy hints of berries and flowers. He's heated it with his magic, he knows this is how I like my wine after a long ride. And we have been riding for so long lately... "It's a damn good thing neither of them are spies, that's all I can say." That pulls a grin from him.

The mage sets aside the wide brimmed hat I tell him looks ridiculous daily. His hair is long and dark, nearly black, but lately I have noticed silver strands of gray beginning to streak it. His jaw is strong but now covered in a beard he has announced he will grow out. Apparently a master mage should look the part. I have told him this, too, is a ridiculous idea. He is handsome and I have considered letting him follow me to bed on more than one occasion after we've finished drinking together. Maybe I will let my pride and our game take a break tonight. Maybe is something I say a lot.

"Are you truly not cold?" This too, is something he has asked me before.

"Why, Broad-Hat? Interested in keeping me warm tonight?" The game is afoot. I don't know why he lets me play it so much, but he does. What's best is he meets each of my taunts with one of his own. I like the battle, he is a delightful challenge.

"And let you put me into an early grave? I've seen some of the poor sods that limp away from your tent in the morning."

I tut him, "I've seen you in battle, Logan, your stamina is quite good for someone your age." A low blow? Perhaps.

"My age?" He glowers at me and I ignore it, choosing to take a drink instead. "You're a demi-goddess. No one has the stamina to keep up with your insatiable hunger." He's not wrong. "Besides, I've only got ten years on you and Teigal, I'm not that old."

I am trying not to grin but I think I'm failing, back into the drink I go. "Of course not." I hope that sounded as patronizing as I had intended it to.

He stands and for a minute I think he might leave, game over. But he comes around and pours more into my cup again, looming over me to do so. It is the male version of telling you who is in charge, unfortunately such things don't work on me. Pity, domination has always seemed interesting. "I am not one of the young pups you take in for a game, Shiva."

"Not at all." I agree. "It's alarming how many of them I have to teach."

"Must we play this game tonight?" He sighs and returns to his chair but doesn't sit. He is eyeing the tent entrance. These games with him have become shorter and shorter lately, I can't figure out why that's bothersome.

"Oh, seeing your piece of tail tonight?" My own tail flicks at the thought.

"What business is it of yours who I choose to screw?"

I can't help the head tilt as I look at him, one of my vulpine ears twists involuntarily. "So touchy tonight." I drain my cup and stand. "Remember, Master Mage, I'm not the one that watches who leaves your tent in the morning." This time I don't intend for the bitterness to fall off of my lips but it does anyway.

I leave first. Let him simmer on his own, what does it matter to me?

~

My newest plaything is a young soldier from either Teigal or Logan's battalion. I have no use for names, and he is not allowed to use mine. The snows have fallen quick and heavy, as was promised, and for the moment I allow him to warm my bed.

If he has experience it is minimal. I ride his cock as he strokes my thighs, gripping them tightly on occasion and thrusting up hard. He is long, but not particularly thick, and he hasn't quite figured out how to work with it. I will teach him.

I lean forward and nip at his ear, this draws a gasp from him and he bucks his hips into me harder. "Good," I purr. "You won't break me, I am not like the mortal woman you had before." He looks startled that I called him on his practice, like a deer caught in a hunters sites. "Let me have you passion and your anger and your fears. Bury them all into me, tonight I will be the healer of your soul."

That's all it takes it seems. He pushes me away from him and latches on to one of my nipples, biting and sucking until it's plump from abuse. Yes. I give him the sound of affirmation he is looking for and he continues to the other one. He is thrusting into me now with abandon. The tip of him pressing hard into my cervix enough I know I will be sore tomorrow. I will welcome it.

"Shit-"

Gods, no. I roll off of him before the rest of his seed spills inside. I can feel him sitting up behind me. "Don't." My tone is sharp, cutting. I do not want his apology or his excuses. "Disappear before I return." I command. I grab clothes and dress quickly, leaving this troublesome pup to clean himself up and make himself scarce.

What a waste of what could have been a good night.

There is no one out and the snow is falling heavy around us. Whatever spells they used have redirected much of it off of the army directly, but enough falls to coat my hair and shoulders as I walk. I wander the sleeping city of canvas aimlessly, still horny and angry. It is too late to pick a new partner and I will have to finish myself when I return or my anger will boil into tomorrow.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

I jump, every bit of fur and hair standing on end. Logan is wrapped in a heavy cloak and half hanging out of his tent, smoking a pipe. The four of us have separated our tents in case of an attack, making our odds of majority survival greater. I hadn't even realized I'd walked so far.

"You didn't even put on boots." He's keeping his voice down but I pick out the concern all the same. Astute observation, I had completely forgotten them. Looking down at myself I hike my pants up my hips, noticing they had begun to ride low. "Get inside, you fucking lunatic." I don't have time to argue before he's got me by the forearm and is dragging me in.

I have never seen the inside of Logan's tent. It is decidedly not how I pictured it to be. There is also no woman in here like I expected. He mutters some words and the dying fire roars back to life, popping and sizzling in welcome. I am not cold, he has to know that. But I still don't argue as he forces me into a chair, draping the cloak he had been using over me like a blanket. I've only ever seen him in the deep blue robes of a master mage until now and what I see is yet another surprise.

He isn't as lanky as I assumed he was. The light colored shirt he's in is loose fitting, hanging to just above his hips. He never bothered buttoning the top button of his pants, I doubt he was expecting company. As he moves to acquire a blanket to wrap around himself the shirt rises and I get a peek of the hips and muscle above them. Our wirey mage has been training with the knight, it seems! And then he is covered again and I am left to imagine the other things he's hidden from me.

"What were you thinking, walking around dressed like that in a damn blizzard?" he demands, sitting across from me on the edge of his bed. I'm tickled by how angry he appears.

"My toy broke earlier than I wanted it to." I growl, staring into the fire before me. "It was in his best interest I walk away. This weather doesn't phase me so why bother with unnecessary things?" He appears to mull over my reasoning before sighing. "At least I put on clothes." I point out.

He stands again and walks towards a table set to one side. I am a nosey creature and look around while his back is turned. There are plush rugs on the ground, clearly enchanted to repel the cold and whatnot beneath them. His bed is piled high with furs but I can see no pillows. There is a scattering of chests, some of which have scrolls sitting atop them. Always the scollar, our mage. His staff rests against one of the chests. I have seen him channel many a spell through that innocent looking stick and the destruction it left in its wake was chilling. For all I fight with and tease him, Logan is truly a talented individual when it comes to the arcane.

There is a goblet being waved under my nose and one sniff of its contents has my ears perking. "This isn't the normal wine we drink." I state, taking the offering and sniffing at it some more. I have drank my fair share but I cannot, for the life of me, tell what this is.

"No, it's my own brew." He returns to his bedside perch, letting the blanket fall off of one shoulder so he can drink easily. "Think meed, but not."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" He doesn't answer me, just motions for me to try it. I would be lying if I said I did so grudgingly. What coats my tongue is both sweet and bitter, a complex melding of flavors that leaves me wanting to drain the contents just to try and pick them out. I do so before I can stop myself, "That's dangerous."

"That's why you only get the one. That'll hit you shortly."

I feign offense with a gasp, "You booze tease!"

"If you're not tripping over your own tongue in five minutes I'll give you more."

This is a good deal, but I can already feel the heat in my stomach as it starts to creep along my veins. Most heavy liquors can't accomplish this in several rounds. I want more. "What's in it? And how did you even find time to make it?" All reasonable questions.

"Magic, on both accounts."

"You smug asshole."

Logan laughs, a pleasant rumble of a sound that we don't hear all that often. Of the four of us he is the most poised, as if he feels he has to be. "Just a bit, yeah." he nods towards the table, "Don't drink this one so fast."

I'm on my feet in an instant to claim some more of this delicious trap of a beverage. The table has little else on it. A covered plate of what I assume to be food, the nearly empty decanter of spirits, and a few miscellaneous things. I only pour a mouthful or so before retreating.

I don't make it back to my designated chair before he stops me. He's let the blanket fall and reaches out with his free hand, "Let me have it." In a bit of panic I nearly refuse and chug it. I squash the urge and hand it over, ready to pounce in its defense. He mumbles again and his magic dances across the tips of his fingers, a quick glitter of black and blue sparks.

"You don't always have to do that, you know..." my cup, when it's returned, is warm to the touch, the liquid inside just short of steaming.

"It tastes best like that."

I polish it off and plop down beside him, letting his furs swallow me up. The mage casts me a warning look. I am not welcome here, I remind myself, this is not part of the game. "Oh, lighten up, I'm not staying."

"You never do, from what I hear."

"Tread carefully." That insatiable creature he mentioned barely had a snack, it isn't a good idea to poke it while it's still hungry.

"I am scared of very few things, you are not one of them."

"I'm very tempted to make you eat those words. I might even let you enjoy it." It's bait, we both know that.

"Do they fall in line so easily?"

"Most do."

"I don't think I'd perform well on leash."

"I'm willing to forgo the leash." He honestly looks like he's considering it and I sit up a bit too eagerly. Maybe this IS part of the game and one of us is about to be severely disappointed.

But he's staring into his drink, swirling it slowly. "This is a bad idea, Shiva..."

"What makes it bad? Don't pretend you haven't looked when you thought I wasn't."

"Looking and touching are two very different things."

Enough of this, "I will not argue my way into your bed." I am already on my feet, headed towards the exit. There are plenty of others I don't have to convince.

Logan curses behind me. Before I make it past the fire he grabs my arm and turns me around so fast my head spins. He kisses me with a hunger I didn't know mortal men possessed. His fingers lace through the hair at the base of my neck and he holds me where he wants me, taking his pound of flesh from a willing victim.

When he pulls back to allow us a breath my smug ass can't help itself. "How was touching?" I get little more than a rumble in reply before his lips find me again. This time he tastes the soft dip of my neck and shoulder, teeth grazing it into goosebumps before the gentle caress of his tongue soothes it. This one does not need to be trained.

He samples me for what seems like ages. Some touches gentler than others, some perfectly painful. When he let's up for the second time I am struggling to find words. I will blame his magical booze until the day I die.

I need to touch. My skin is burning with desire and I can feel the same heat radiating off of him. There is no more want, we bypassed that term and leapt straight into the animalistic version of this activity. There are so few people who are earnest in their desires so it thrills me the mage is not one to tiptoe around it all.