The Taming

Swim with Him

Calisto offered a fond smile and tilted her head. "And then you fell in love."

Calisto shrugged playfully as she gazed at Elsabet. "You couldn't have helped it. And why not, for that matter?"

"But it's with the most impossible man!" She slammed her fist to her thigh in frustration.

"I know." Calisto said, softening her voice. She was faintly surprised that Elsabet didn't bother arguing the point. Sensing that saying anything further would just fuel the aggravation Elsabet tried to assimilate against Bast. Calisto would be no part of that.

After a long silence Elsabet asked the oddest question. "Did he win?"

"Win?"

"Bast. The swim races?"

"He sometimes won." Calisto frowned. She remembered propelling herself through the water like an engine. Often cheating and using her magic to make the water carry her along.

Still Bast, ever a strong swimmer, often reached the island first.

"I don't know how..." She confided. "He must've been cheating. But would never tell me how."

Elsabet got up and paced while Calisto's eyes flicked back and forth. Watching her agitated movements.

"What's wrong with you now?" Calisto frowned.

"He is very corded...And golden...And beautiful." She wrung her hands.

"Yes, he is." Calisto said slowly. Fighting a smile.

"He does smile and grin a lot."

"Yes, he does."

"Many women do find him attractive." Elsabet worried.

"Yes. You have good reason to."

"I know." Elsabet gave her a quick look as she paced.

"What's bothering you then?"

"I've never swam with him."

"Would you like to?"

"I'd like to spend a normal day with him."

"A normal day?" Calisto's brow knitted.

"Outside of this castle. Free..."

"Did you ask him to take you?"

"He wouldn't."

"I'm sorry for your pain, Els." There was little else Calisto could say that.

Elsabet's skirts swished as she turned again. "I know."

***

Merwood, Dread Hideout

In the small house deep in the heart of Merwood, a young woman cried. Heart shattering, broken sobs which tore the air. A sound so filled with pain that it spanned out to reach the creatures of the woods.

Every cracking sound had Acharius, the former viking, wincing in agony. He cringed, sitting on the edge of his bed and trying to focus on anything but that sound. And the fact that he was the cause of it.

In the foggy distance. A hunched black shadow grew tired of the sounds. It moved through the trees and topped the rise above the house. Its huffing breaths crystallized in the late fall evening. Yellow eyes glowed in the descending darkness. The creature moved through the shadows as if made of them. It positioned to have a clean view of the house and from there it could see directly in the window slit to the woman curled up on her bed. Her knees drawn to her chest beneath her skirt. Her arms wrapped them, hugging them to her. Her face was against them, muffling the sounds of her sobs.

It slinked closer. The moonlight seeping through the treetops silvered the ends of the black fur. Making its back shine as if it were white.

It blew out a long, frozen breath which thickened into gray steam as it rose into the night sky. As it came to a decision, the animal moved on. Snarling as it stepped. Body rippling as it loped gracefully down to the house gardens. Wooden gates slapped slightly together after the animal's passage.

In her chamber, Chastain stiffened at the sound of the gate. Poking her head out her window, she watched in horror as the creature closed in. Its pace nightmarish. It lunged from the hillside, clearing the towering back wall and launching toward the window slit. It stretched its long, lithe form and precision landed just inside the window slit. Its paws so silent, that even as its full weight hit, there was nothing but the swish as it slid over the hardwood floor.

Chastain gave a startled squeak and rushed to the far side of her room. Her red hair swung in a banner behind her as she fled. Her hands twisted anxiously into her skirt, and she trembled.

The creature was between her and the door. She stared at it in horror, readying a scream. But as her gaze drifted down to take in the permeating gold gaze, everything changed. Her pupils swelled, her face relaxed until she looked almost sleepy. Her shoulders drooped and she found herself tumbling into those hypnotic, slitted eyes. The dark creature consumed her solitary chamber.

Though she was sure it was going to take a bite out of her, she could no longer move.

The panther slid to the perimeter of her chamber. Stalking along the wall, in order to give her distance. Its thick shoulders bunched and released with every movement.

There was the creak of a board in the hall, signaling that one of the women of the house walked it.

When the panther swung his head in that direction, Chastain was momentarily freed.

She blinked quickly, trying to dissipate the comforting haze she'd felt when looking at him. She grimaced as she observed his tense movements. She twisted her body to run along the wall, but its warning growl froze her in her tracks.

Chastain blanched. Tucking her head as she prepared for an attack.

The panther strolled into the back corner of her chamber, the darkest part. Her bedside candle couldn't reach there. Leaving it cold and dusty.

Those gold eyes blinked at her.

As she watched they gradually lifted from a few feet off the floor to a towering six feet high, without a sound. She could hear the slide scrape of movement and then a chiseled face surrounded by a cloud of gold hair emerged from the shadows. He eased into the sliver of candlelight which danced over her bedroom floor. When he stepped from the blackness, he wore a dark shirt which was frilled at the cuffs.

"Chastain, I believe." He bowed his golden head in greeting. "I came to help."