The Master of the Hunt: A Paranormal Romance (3 page)

Staring into the handsome face of the hunt master, Elizabeth felt a sudden overpowering desire to be at his side. “Yes, I am absolutely sure.” She answered quickly. She urged Braveheart to move forward, and then into a gallop. Just as she passed through the tree arch, an odd feeling swept through her that she had never experienced before. Braveheart shied at the new sensation too, suddenly frightened of what had happened. But before she could react to Braveheart’s fear, Elizabeth was thrown violently from the saddle, and hit the ground hard.

Everything went black in an instant. When Elizabeth woke she found herself curled up in Henry’s arms, riding atop Stryker. Her right arm hurt terribly, and was bound to her chest in a makeshift sling. “What happened?” Elizabeth asked Henry, “Where’s Braveheart? Is she ok?”

Henry’s voice was low and soothing in his reply to her. “Braveheart follows along right behind us; she has come to no harm. She shied as you both entered the gate on the West End of my property. You were thrown and broke your arm so I am taking you to my home, and the rest of the hunt will continue without us for a while.”

Elizabeth turned a bit, to see Braveheart tied to Stryker’s saddle, following the stallion patiently as they moved along. Elizabeth’s head still spun with each movement they made. Nausea came to her in waves as well and she fought to keep herself under control. Finally she decided to give in to the pain and she leaned back against Henry’s warm, firm form. “Ahn oon? Where is tha… wow.” At that very moment a beautiful manor rose up out of the fog before them, looking exactly like a home that belonged in a Thomas Kinkade painting.

“I would like to welcome you to my home, Elizabeth Fox, “said Henry. A young man came up out of the stables to retrieve the horses as Henry dismounted Stryker. “Edward, take Stryker and Braveheart to the stables. Get them cooled down and fed, while I see to the young lady’s injury.” Henry gently helped Elizabeth off of his mount, and then slipped her into his arms. He effortlessly carried her into the manor, which gleamed with rich woodwork and smelled of fine cigars and wines. He took her towards the back of the home, into a huge bedchamber which gave off a warmth she would have never expected on such a cold day.

Sitting her down slowly on a massive four post bed he carefully removed her boots, helmet, and coat, being extra careful not to move the injured arm any more than absolutely necessary. “Make yourself comfortable, Elizabeth. I will return shortly.” And with that statement Henry walked out of the room, already removing his scarlet hunt coat and gloves as he moved down the hallway at a brisk pace.

There was simply so much to look at Elizabeth almost forgot about her injury – that is until she reached for an object on the table next to the bed and was instantly reminded. So Elizabeth sat back on the soft bed with a sigh and cradled her arm closely to her body. Her arm still hurt terribly, and her head was beginning to pound. Even with the helmet on, she must have hit the ground pretty hard. She closed her eyes, hoping that might help ease the oncoming headache and the nauseous waves that tempted to flood the gates at any moment.

What a morning she’d had. Never in a million years would Elizabeth have imagined that she would now be lying in the bed of a stunningly handsome man, in his palatial home. “I’m lying here with a broken arm, nausea and a huge headache. Yes, very romantic, Elizabeth. I’m sure I’ve just swept him away with all my charms.” She muttered darkly to herself.

“Something quite like that,” Henry’s voice and masculine chuckle from the doorway made her immediately flush with embarrassment at her previous statement. He carried a silver chalice in one hand, and a platter filled with tiny finger sandwiches in another. “Here, drink this first.” He handed Elizabeth the cup, which contained a shining, honey colored liquid. She drank hungrily and had forgotten the last time she had had anything to drink this morning. Her parched throat accepted the drink heartily.

When she drank a bit of the liquid, her mouth seemed almost to explode with a sweet, fruity taste. Mmmmmm, she thought to herself. Instantly her headache began to ebb, as did the nausea and the constant ache in her arm. “That’s amazing!” Elizabeth said delighted. She swiftly emptied the contents of the cup and handed it back to him hoping for more. Henry sat next to her on the bed smiling, and began feeding her the sandwiches. They, too, tasted marvelous, a deeply spiced meaty flavor that she had never experienced before either.

Once she had finished all the food and drink, Henry set the platter and cup down on the table next to the large bed. Then turning back to her he gently undid the sling covering her broken arm. Pushing up the sleeve of her sweater, he gently checked her wound. The touch of his fingers on her bare skin immediately distracted Elizabeth from any pain his tender ministrations might have ever caused. Knowing this might be her only chance, Elizabeth leaned in to the handsome Master of the Hunt and stole a kiss.

Completely unexpected, the kiss exploded into passion between the two, and, using her good arm, Elizabeth pulled Henry closer to her as she lay down on the bed. Henry broke the kiss momentarily to look deep into her eyes. “So be it,” he murmured into her ear. “There is no turning back now my sweet.” So carefully and passionately, Henry then made Elizabeth his.

Chapter 5

After their lovemaking was over, Elizabeth fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. Hours later when she awoke, the room was awash in the rosy pink and orange of dusk. Henry was nowhere to be seen in the large bedchamber, but a deep red rose lay on the bed next to her. A note was tied to it.

Elizabeth went to grab the rose, and suddenly realized with a start, that her broken arm no longer hurt. In fact, it clearly was no longer broken. “That’s not… possible.” She said wonderingly to herself. Opening the note, Elizabeth read Henry’s message, written in the beautiful handwritten style of a well educated man of years long past.

“Beloved lady, dress in the clothes I have provided you here and meet us all out in the yard when you awake. All will be explained at that time. Henry”

Elizabeth looked around the darkened room and saw a beautiful riding habit in tones of scarlet red and embossed with golden thread draped across a chair on the other side of the bed. She got up, stretched a bit and went to further inspect what was there. To her astonishment she also found a beautiful pair of black kid skin boots which stood next to the clothes as well.

Elizabeth did as she was instructed in the note, and put on the new clothes. Amazing! Everything fit exactly as if it had been tailored expressly for her by hand. But how could that be? Once dressed she went walking through the immense house looking for Henry – or for anyone at that point. For some reason it was empty – then she heard sounds coming from outside.

She headed out through the front door, to see the hunting party waiting there for her. There the group was arranged in a semi-circle, with the darkest horses on the left, and the lightest ones on the right. All of the ladies were dressed in clothing similar to hers, while the men wore gleaming suits of armor. And all of the party carried bows, with a quiver of arrows slung across their backs. The nine giant white and red hounds had placed themselves evenly between each one of the riders.

At that instant a sound from the stables drew her attention. Henry was mounted on Stryker, riding toward her and the group, dressed in ornate yet light looking armor, a sword by his side, and a bow on his back. He led a mare the same color as his own stallion, the deep grey of a thunderstorm. With a start, Elizabeth immediately realized some how, that the dark colored mare she now was looking at, was her once white Braveheart.

When he reached the others he entered the semi-circle and the entire party bowed to him. “I am Henry Edwards, Lord and Master of the Wild Hunt.” Henry’s commanding voice boomed out across the yard.

“On this very magical day I claim Elizabeth Fox as a member of the Hunt. I am hers, and she is mine. From this day on until the last day, she shall ride at my side as we carry out the duties of the Hunt.” Henry looked directly into Elizabeth’s eyes. “You have ridden with the hunt, refusing three times to be dissuaded. You slept beneath the roof of the Hunt Master, and have given yourself willingly to me. You have eaten and drank of the ambrosia of immortality. You may not return to the mortal lands to live as you once did. Yet still you may choose your own path. I have given you immortality. It is up to you, my fair Elizabeth, to choose if you wish spend it by my side, or not.”

Henry then held the reins of the newly colored Braveheart out to her. Without hesitating one second, Elizabeth took the reins from Henry and mounted her mare. “I choose to be with you, Henry Edwards.” She said and leaned over to kiss him. When their lips touched the other members of the Wild Hunt broke into cheers and wild applause. The giant hounds began to bay in approval.

At long last, the kiss ended and a full moon broke the horizon, flooded the surrounding forest with white light. “Come, quickly, let us ride!” Henry said, and sounding his horn, the Master of the Wild Hunt rode off, with his new lady right by his side.

Chapter 6

And so their new life together began.

This night was even more beautiful than what she’d remembered of her old life. The nocturnal sounds that she once paid so little attention to now were extraordinarily vivid and clear. Elizabeth could hear the multiple crackling noises of Braveheart’ shoes as she rode atop the leaves of the forest. She heard every bit of stick cracking, breath took, and wind blow. She was not afraid of her newfound self, knowing that her immortal lover was beside her in full stride.

She was more alert than she had ever been, and like a newborn baby opening up its eyes for the very first time, discovering its new surroundings, Elizabeth was astonished at the gift of her eternal life, without knowing the full concept of what experiences  her new world reality would intertwine with her mortal fantasies.

“I wonder where the hunt will lead us this time?” she called out to her lover, with a carefree grin, slicker than the fox they imaginably hunted.

Henry’s shining armor illuminated through all of the darkness; the moon’s light served him justice through the 3am black of night.  He turned back with a grin, and said, “The dogs will lead the way, love. For now we ride with the nightfall.”

But he knew there was more to it than that. He knew that Elizabeth would soon realize the gift he’d given to her to be more bewildering than any gift she would have received in her mortal world. Elizabeth was still in awe. As the wind brushed across her face she realized she could not feel its tingle as she would have normally, though her sense of smell was greatly heightened.

She then caught a whiff of the pack, the distinct smell of the men’s and the women’s musk, the canter gaiting horses and the running hounds. She picked up on deer, owls, and even insects; the grinding noises ants made when they feast together. She could almost taste berries and sap from nearby trees and bushes they had just passed.

The freshness of the wilderness was enthralling, almost breathtaking. She was comfortable enough to close her eyes and tilt her head back to the intoxicating aroma within an instant. But was she really comfortable? Maybe her eyes locked and her head was tilting involuntary.

She began to feel as if she was in ecstasy. She was in a fixated state of mind where her vision blurred and her body became light as a feather. Maybe it was a dream. But she could see only darkness, unaware of her vision being lost within this magnificent high.

Before long she had begun to pick up the scent of something else other than wildlife and her immortal family, the aroma she had just acknowledged unlike any of that which she had recalled, it came and went in a flash as she rode on under the moonlight. It immediately brought on a feeling of uncertainty, an awkward sense that the presence of danger was lurking somewhere near, and then it went away just as fast as it had came. Did it come from above her somewhere perhaps? She was completely caught off guard.

She heard talking amongst the group, but couldn’t make out the words or conversation, if there was one, during her distraction. Was this happening only in her mind? Surely it couldn’t be. When she finally thought to speak, she had to force her mouth open. It was like someone held her jaws shut, and she had to pry them open with every bit of muscle tone in her face. When she finally succeeded, nothing escaped from between her lips. She searched for the words, but there were none. The two words that she wanted to utter were ‘help me,’ which never made it to the ears of the other members.

The hounds barked, the horses in her group galloped away, and she could make them all out, dwindling further away into the nothingness. As Elizabeth was going out of it, falling further and further into darkness, no longer being able to withstand the potent effects of her high, she built up enough strength to pull on the reins. Without being fully aware of her actions her   weight shifted to the left, and she unwillingly pressed her right knee into Braveheart’s side.

At that point Elizabeth was the source of a thump that was heard by only one when she collided with earth’s carpet, in a swept area encased within many trees. She didn’t feel a thing really – except maybe a distant pat to her thigh. It was strange how far away her body felt right now. She hadn’t a clue where she was, her body was paralyzed. Or she was possibly just exceptionally overwhelmed by her new senses. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but as she passed into the darkness she was strangely fine with it. Then everything went black.

When she had finally awoken, the sun was up. It was brighter than it had ever been, and Braveheart was there nipping at the grass beside her riders head. She was a loyal steed, and Elizabeth wouldn’t trade her in for anything in the world times two. She bobbed her strong head a couple times and made that noise horses make, blubbering with the lips, before shifting her head toward the woods in the direction from which they had entered this open area last night.

Elizabeth wiped at her face and then sat up. “We came from there, huh, girl?” She looked around, wiping her eyes and stretching. “I wonder where everyone’s at.” She looked back to Braveheart. “Well, I guess we’re alone again.” She thought for a spell trying to dust the cobwebs from her foggy brain. She wondered what had happened to her. She also wondered if Henry was even out searching for her. Why didn’t he come back in the night?