Huntsman
Volume I: Princess
Leona D. Reish
Copyright 2013 Leona D. Reish
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This book contains graphic sexual content, including the following:
Dark Elf maids sexually serving officers at leisure.
A beast trap used as dangling bondage.
Hogtying & gagging trapped captive.
Sensual rough sex including oral and on all fours by a fire.
I
Princess
Nobility; not always a thing one is born into. In the frigid Northlands, actions and strength amidst the merciless winter speak louder than any words. The softer races would consider the place a barren waste, a cursed land in the shadows of the Dragon’s Teeth Mountains. They would be mistaken, but in the Northlands, blood inherited the will to persevere.
“Ho! We only have an hour of light, get it moving! Yo u can all rest when you’re dead!” Bellowed a towering man, his face seemingly chiselled from dulled stone, dashed with a neatly trimmed beard of a rustic brown and framed with ragged hair of the same tone. Ice-blue eyes, near the same shade of grey that the world around him held observed the men hauling the rickety cage wagons sternly.
Within them, f eral Blackguard Hounds snarled. The growls they gave a low, steady rumble of a tone. The man’s cold eyes met the blood-red glower of one of the beasts as he passed the otherwise steel-walled barricade. The dim glimmer of intelligence burned in those eyes, and the guttural tone that backed the glower said it was no farce.
He knew bet ter than to underestimate any beast of the wild, but these – these seemed a wicked thing of dark magic as much as Mother Nature. That only meant you were doubly careful about it. That caution and respect had gotten him far in life.
“Come on, we’re on city grounds so split the damn convoy for time . You let night fall before they’re stabled and it’s your lives on the line.” He shouted, the only response coming from the caged hounds seeming to interpret his words as promise of fresh game. They had already cost him, but these hunts always did. Every one that joined in them knew of the risks and worth to the Northlands, as much security to the natural wilds as worth to the people.
The front wagons pulled away under half-hearted jeers and shouts in reply. They knew the risks too, but they were just as exhausted as he was. Darkfall didn’t much care for wellbeing or preference, however. The brief hours of light would fall when they pleased, allowing the Hounds to empower and rejuvenate by the chill darkness of night.
Grabbing its wooden frame , the heavy man pulled himself up into the third wagon, enclosed with a canopy. Inside, the visceral copper scent of blood and gore assaulted him, making him grimace and frown over at the far smaller, thinner woman shrouded at the back of the wagon with a small ball of light above her hand.
“They are stable, H untsman, as much as they can be. The road is calm, and so they are not in danger. I am doing what I can to ensure that remains true.” The woman spoke, a willowy and aged tone full of depth and wisdom, punctuated with a derisive sniff. The ‘Huntsman’ looked the collection of marred and wounded bodies over, nodding solemnly.
“See that you do, Madame Elf. Goddess bless you.” He offered in a quieted voice full of respect, turning to drop from the wagon. Ebony eyes glistened from behind the mask as the elven woman raised
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