“You are taking me hunting?”
“Yes!” Mabon says excitedly.
I groan in dismay. “Where?”
He waves his hand at the window. “In that large park out there.”
“Hyde Park?” I nearly stutter in incredulity.
He gives a half shrug, half head shake gesture. It’s clear he doesn’t care what it is called.
I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to fortify me. “What are you hunting?”
“Boar,” he says.
And I’m so glad the answer isn’t humans, that I’m not even fazed by the ludicrous idea of hunting boar through Hyde Park. It’s a thousand times better than what my dark imagination was picturing.
“Does this mean I get some clothes?” I ask. This day is getting better and better.
Mabon frowns and then pouts. “No. I want everyone to see your lovely muscles.”
I stare at him, but he isn’t joking. He is deadly serious.
“It’s snowing,” I point out.
He looks at me as if I am insane for pointing out the obvious.
“I’m human,” I try, but still no reaction. “I’ll freeze to death.”
Mabon’s eyebrows rise. For a brief moment, he looks horrified, but it quickly morphs into annoyance. His hands go to his hips and he glares at me as if this is all my fault.
The silence stretches. Long moments tick by. We are just standing here, staring at each other.
“Oh!” he says suddenly. “I’ll place a warming spell on you!”
His fingers click loudly, and a warm sensation buzzes all over me. Tingling along every inch of my skin. I yelp and scurry backwards, patting instinctively at my arms. But it soon becomes clear that I’m not actually about to burst into flames.
I give Mabon a sheepish look, expecting him to mock me for my overreaction, but he is not paying me any attention. He is looking out of the window at the snow.
Is everything all right? Should I ask him if he is okay? He was jubilant a moment ago. Now, all of a sudden, he seems thoughtful and pensive.
Suddenly, he moves. Springing to life as if he never paused. He picks up my leash and strides away. The chain yanks on my collar and I stumble after him.
I guess I’m going hunting.
That doesn’t look like a fucking horse. It has pointed teeth for a start. And it’s stupidly tall with spindly legs. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I swear its eyes just glowed red. Its fur, hair, coat, or whatever the hell it’s called, is a shade of black so dark it is doing funny things to my eyes.
Mabon steps towards it and I want to grab his arm, hold him back and protect him. But there are dozens of these creatures all around this stable and I cannot protect him from them all.
Mabon swings up onto the back of the beast with an easy, practised grace. He picks up the silver reins and they jingle with dozens of tiny silver bells.
He looks down at me, and the sight takes my breath away. His dark, curling horns are gleaming. His lilac hair looks like spun silk, and the elaborate weaves and twists are impressive, but I love the gently curling locks that are falling free to his waist. Iwant to see him with all his stunning hair down. It must look incredible.
His long flowing robes are vibrant against the void black beast. His amethyst eyes are gleaming. The expression on his beautiful face is regal and commanding.
He looks magnificent.
Ethereal, otherworldly and dangerous.
