Valkyrie of Desire

16. Silent Wrath

Rebel boy, sour sunrise

Belly pain from his kicking

Will I see his father's eyes

Or shall I birth a mirror

And feel nothing when he cries

—Ola Ishtaran

As morning brightens the open-roof aviary, Hildr picks straw from Peggy's cream-colored feathers and golden fur. The griffin purrs and squawks when a stalk tickles. Hildr trills her tongue next to the beast's horse-sized head until she settles.

In the stairwell across from the stall, Hayboy snores and a crouching Liam yawns. Hildr glares at the two men sharing the wide entry like garrisoned soldiers.

Throughout the night every time she'd opened her eyes one or the other of them had been keeping watch. Growing up, men would pay to own her for hours, but sleeping was always her time. It was one of the few lines her mother let her have, and these two have crossed it with their spying.

Hayboy shifts on a burlap pillow, rolls over, and snores on. Hildr brushes her hand through the hay on the floor, still dry and clean from the young man's care-taking.

The aviary is as well tended as when her ex-lover, Ishkur, had the punitive duty. Her face softens. She never loved the young half-elf like she did Ajax, but she had grown to care for him and could see him being a good father.

A sharp cramp flares, and she hunches to cradle her stomach. A potent drink might help, but she swore off spirits when she shifted away from sugar.

"What?" says Liam. "You taking a shit in the hay like your beastie buddy?" He rubs his eyes and braces with his cudgel to climb to his feet.

The man's thin-lipped sneer sparks an invigorating rush in Hildr, driving her pain away as if she had chugged a mug of mulled wine. Alcohol is an old weakness. Anger may be her intoxicating replacement.

Stone-faced and naked, she strides towards the men. Her orange hair swings as her hips sway, tangled during her rest into accidental braids. Sliding her hand down her belly, she flicks away straw stuck in blonde pubic hairs and scratches her pale pink vulva.

Liam turns his flushing face aside. "Savage girl, put some clothes on."

Hildr steps to him, leading with erect nipples. Chest presses against chest. Pink buttons ignite. Pupils dilate. She slaps his copper-topped club out of his hand and catches his cheeks in her palms.

"Get off me, whore!"

Hildr clenches her teeth and curls her lips. Digging her fingers in, she forces his eyes to lock on to hers as flames spurt from her vagina and burn the hem of his tunic.

He grabs her wrists. "What are you doing?"

Still gripping his face, she roars and reality distorts.

NON-PLAYER DESIRE OVERLOAD.

Hildr's spittle sprays and her guttural scream echoes down the stairwell, making Liam flinch and cower.

"What ..." Twisting his cheeks free from her, he backs up and misses a stone step.

Hildr sucks in a breath as he falls and follows him down, roaring again when he hits the granite stairs. Fire out, she hovers over him, and he sobs like a scolded child.

Pure intimidation. Hildr's demigoddess had this banshee-like trait when possessing her, but Hildr has never achieved it alone before. A thrilling power, it tickles her insides like a delicate lover.