Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

Poison in the Field

After he had gone half of the way back home, Alvarr shifted to human form.  Though exhausted, he took his time walking on the dry earth, feeling the dry leaves crunch beneath his bare feet.  Behind him, the Time of Mating still went on for most of the stallions and mares, but not for him. 

He pushed his long hair back behind his ears and shook it like a mane.  It brushed the small of his back.  Before he'd come to the stallion tribe, when he was a colt, Alvarr had tried to cut it, only to have it grow back magically quickly, like one of the vines that flourished under his power. 

Another mark of the mage.  His fingers brushed between his eyes, but his forehead was smooth.  No sign of a horn, not even a bump, and for that, he was grateful.  Only two people had seen his horn: Barron, surprisingly, and Laren. 

Alvarr walked in silence for a bit longer, trying to empty his mind and let nature soothe him.  It was no use.  Being mated was impossible to forget.  With every step he took, Alvarr could still feel the ghost of the long, hot member he had welcomed into his body.  Even in human form, he thought Laren's seed still remained in him.

He had gotten the urge after all.  He wasn't sure how to treat Laren after that, or how the leader would treat him.  Perhaps the madness that had driven them to this strange coupling would be like a fever, fragmenting Laren's memory.  But mine will stay clear.

A stallion mating with another stallion.  If it has happened before, I've never heard of it. 

He walked for some time, trying to make sense of how much his life had changed.  When the world started to smell like morning, the mage finally returned to his dwelling.  His human feet hurt, and he was sticky with dried sweat, but he collapsed on his pallet to rest.

I'll report to the Elders about Barron in a little while, he thought, closing his eyes.

***

A few hours later, the stallions returned to camp, stumbling into their own dwellings.  Exhausted yet triumphant, their voices carried in the morning air, waking the mage.

They really were out all night.  As he looked through the cracks of his living-vine roof at the lightened sky, Alvarr knew he would not be able to sleep any longer. 

He stood and stretched, combing his hair back with his fingers.  I could run to the forest and bathe.  But that would mean shifting to four legs, and he didn't want to face questions about his horn. 

He walked out of his dwelling just as he was.  Alvarr passed several stallions, who didn't even seem to see him.  Out of habit, he kept an eye out for those three.  Did Barron sire foals last night?  Despite Barron's bullying of the past, Alvarr was relieved he'd been able to heal the other stallion.

Maybe he won't be so terrible, Alvarr thought.  They were supposedly the same age.  Maybe he'd finally have a friend.

At the healing tent, he passed through the white drapes and called softly.  "Hello?  Elder?  It's Alvarr."  Several of the Elders made their pallets at the back of the healing tent, so there was usually someone present. 

A rustle sounded, and Elder Sevan came out, his face pinched. "Ah, young mage," he said without much enthusiasm.

Is he angry with me?  He was never in a good mood, but he seemed more dour than usual.  "Elder, I did manage to find Barron last night," he said. 

Elder Sevan's iron-gray eyebrows lowered.  "And?"

"He is healed.  He told me he intended to sire foals."