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  To Jesus my Savior and the LGBTQIA community for all their support over the years.

  Prologue

  The foggy gray morning air greeted Bree from the cage in which she slept. Her uncomfortable, tattered clothing was wet with sweat and stuck to her filthy body. She stared out into the thick fog, ignoring her discomfort. The sound of human misery could be heard around her. Sobbing, breathing, and gasping came from the next door cages. She rested her forehead on the bars, oblivious to the crying shadows around her. She wondered, perhaps this time, I will die, and this time I will welcome death. Her dull brown eyes showed no emotion, and her short wavy hair was covered in twigs and the filth of the slave cages. She stared out at the fog wishing it would swallow her whole. The mist disappeared from view as a yellow-stained tent flap was shut by the slave-master. Bree trembled with fear as her window to the outside world was finally closed. She tried to make herself smaller as she cowered in the corner of her cage. Hearing muffled voices, Bree refused to look anywhere else but the ground or longingly at the tent flap. She closed her eyes as the sound of male voices could be heard outside the tent. A voice softly whispered to her:

  "Do you remember the trees and the forest? The smell of pine, flowers, and freshly baked bread? What about your grandmother's green shawl and her soft smile?" She was too broken for tears, but the faint distant memory of golden baked bread made her chest ache. She could almost hear her grandmother's voice. "The forest my child, if you respect it, if you give it space and love, it will give you all that you need. It will give you food, water, and a place to sleep. The forest will only reward you if you are wise and are willing to know it's ways." The agony of her memories choked her. Her home, her forest was gone. The trees had been chopped away, the earth upheaved, raped until it was no longer fertile. The forest animals died, and their bodies rotted, their corpses piled high and tossed to the roadside. The choking stench of manure poisoned the water, turning it muddy and gray. Bree could hardly remember how her homeland had looked before the invasion. Man had raped the land, their machines had set fire to her home and had taken her life. Man now held Bree's fate as she heard the clear careen of the auctioneer at the slave auction. She felt her cage door open; she was forced away from her memories of the trees, the flowers, and bread.

  Chapter 1

  Crisp snow fell against black soil. Grey gnarled forest trees raked at the men with wicked fingers. Dried brittle leaves crunched underfoot, and the thick piney smell of trees filled the moist, chilly air. Woman flesh was scraped raw against the cold hard soil. Bree was dragged deep into the forest, the men not caring if she was hurt being handled so roughly.

  She remembered nothing of her previous life. She had become a dead weight with little will to stand.

  Deliriously, she heard her mother's voice "a useless sack of potatoes" Then, her father's voice accused "not suitable for rearing children." Their voices mocked her from the shadows. She could hardly remember their faces or her home. None of it matters; she reminded herself faintly. Most of her family was dead, and soon she would be as well. The village men dragged her by the neck and arms, her smock was soaked in blood. Her body was limp against the hard, unforgiving ground.

  Bree waited patiently for death; indeed, this time, it would come for her. Though her head swam in a fog, she faintly heard the words of her captors."Leave the wench here, tie a rope around her neck, and wait for night. The beast patrols at this boundary. If we break her arm, her scream will sound like a female deer." The men did as ordered and then waited; Bree slept against the hard ground, willing the cold to seep her life away. Sometimes she thought she saw what her grandmother called heaven. The place with bright green meadows and colorful flowers lit with a light from within. She only visited this place when she closed her eyes, and her mind drifted away, awaiting her fate.

  The men drank in the tent, leaving her tied to a stake in the ground outside. She heard them, sitting around a fire, speaking in low fearful voices. “Will this work? Will, that beast really come." One man asked his comrades."The lord must be daft, that girl's scream won't attract the creature. The beast only protects deer and the forest animals, she'll sound nothing like a she-beast." Another stranger spoke, taking a deep drought from his wineskin. "This place is cursed with the screams of death; we'd be better inside waiting for the farming season," A timid voice in the corner spoke. "Why must we do this? I'd rather be at home."

  A harsh voice cracked the air behind the talking men. “You do this because I, your lord, ask this of you, and you will do as I have commanded. The beast will come; he will be drawn to the girl's cries. When he comes out into the open, you will shoot him with your weapons. You will kill him and give me his head."

  The village men looked at one another; guns were a new invention in their part of the kingdom. Their lord had trained them with the new deadly weapons, but many of his men still struggled to trust this new way of killing. A gruff voice asked, "My lord, wouldn't it be easier if we just use crossbow and arrows? The old ways are better for hunting as it is a beast we are after."

  The noble lord with icy eyes stared down at his inferiors. He hissed behind his white mask. "Bows and arrows can hardly pierce his hide, guns will be the way we finish him. This time it will work."

  The masked man turned from the shabby group of village men. “You have your orders, I trust you are competent enough to do a simple task such as this. I will be watching, and you will be paid when the deed is done."

  The nobleman left with his escort of personal guards. They trailed after him as he returned to his lavish tent, eager to escape the cold. They passed Bree without looking at her; her guard stood at attention, saluting his leader. The village men were silent around the fire for a long time. Bree finally heard a timid voice among the men. "Father, the beast...is he really a man?" A gruff voice answered, "Aye, some legends say he is a man, others call him Uhu'rue the guardian that protects the fae. They say, the lord of the forest guards a spring, where those who drink from the water never die. This cursed forest is a place the swallows the meek, women, children, and men of weak natures."

  Another man interrupted his peers. "My nan, when she be but a wee girl, told me stories of a monastery in the forest. She said that the nun's turned into white deer for they were so loved, Jesus himself came from heaven and took away their sinful womanly bodies. These deer could never be caught, and had hides white and clean of their sin." A drunken voice hissed from the other side of the tent. "God ain't coming down from his high throne, and he ain't bother with a bunch of naggy, sexless bitches who cover their head in hopes of escaping Eve's bleeding curse. Now, your nan gone daft in the head 'fore she died, and you all a bunch of maggots believing anything that comes from old biddies practicing witchcraft and believing in lords of the forest. The only lord is the one that gives us money and land. The forest is under his control; he is building mills and a real city. We'll be rolling in real money. No more farming, we'll become respectable rich men." The other men were silent and returned to drinking, clutching their guns nervously.

  As the morning's dreary light turned to noon, and from noon to a dull orange sunset, the fog rolled in, and the forest grew silent. Outside the tent, Bree lay on a thin burlap sack. She was alone, fading in and out of consciousness half-dead, starved, and stinking of urine. Her guards switched shifts, and the newly assigned guard stood over her smirking. She looked away from him, staring through the trees. She imagined the first words she would say to her grandmother when she finally passed through the veil of death and into the land where souls went to rest. Night fell quickly, and Bree was jerked awake. Her guard began rustling with her clothes ripping them. His hungry hands groped her exposed flesh. She lay still neither protesting nor caring. She was far from her body, contemplating the darkness that promised sweet release.
The sudden shining light of the Lord's tent opening made him stop fondling her. The guard quickly pretended to busy himself. The Lord walked straight for Bree, he held a silver spike and iron hammer. He said,“I want you to break her arm until she screams. I want her to scream so loudly that I can hear it from my tent. Don't kill her immediately, I have men in the trees. When the Lord of the Forest comes, you will take your gun and shoot the creature when he is dead, I will come to you." The icy eyed noble took a moment to look at Bree and her dead glossy brown eyes.

  He snarled,"It's a pity. You served me well; your use will come to fruition soon." He walked away, not looking back at the dying young woman. His servant outstretched Bree's arm; she did not resist. The hammer and spike stuck her flesh with a crack, Bree's awoke from her stupor. She screamed a scream that came deep within. It was as if an animal had been awakened. She fought her bonds and screamed in fear. Her sudden awareness and movement frightening her guard as he tried to hold her down and strike her again. Her blood-curdling screams echoed and clashed; they ripped through the fog and into the forest's darkness. The men of the camp's hair stood on end at the sound of Bree's screaming. The noble lord watched in the dark of his private tent, his eyes on the trees' undergrowth.

  The air was heavy, and a low sound of faint breathing could be heard—the men stationed in the trees gripped their guns. The sound echoed through the forest.

  The forest was breathing, and its breath was dense and moist.

  Bree sobbed, flailing. The animal inside her wanted to live, desperate to get away, the fog of drugs and violence rolled away from her consciousness. Her arm became heavy and numb. She lay on her side, wailing in pain, curling her body as she sobbed. Her guard glanced up; he was nervously covered in sweat, smelling of horses. Balding with stringy, dirty straw hair, he had a ruddy face. He was shaking in fear awaiting his next order. He held the hammer over Bree. She wailed, shaking, begging him to stop. His lord gave him a signal, and he once more struck her arm, her nerves writhed in fiery pain, and a desperate animal scream escaped her lungs. The forest's breath grew louder and louder until her guard dropped the hammer and stake to cover his ears. His arm hairs were on end, his skin thick with goose-flesh.

  Bree stared beyond the fog and into the forest. Her eyes were bright with fear, delirious with adrenaline as she prayed to the Old God that he would send death to save her. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. The sound of the forest breath was shallow. There was a silence as a thick otherworldly fog rolled in, surrounding the camp. The encroaching mist swallowed the men, Bree, and the entire encampment. Tethered horses shrieked and pulled at their ropes. A growl erupted, one that filled the air and cracked the skies. It was a primal, terrible, hungry sound. Men clutched their guns, looking for an invisible enemy. Abruptly one man was flung like a doll from his tree, his neck snapping like a twig, eyes rolled back in terror. Another man screamed as he was ripped open, blood exploding from his wounds as talons ripped him limb from limb. The other men fired shots into the darkness, while one man leaped from his tree in a panic. Bree saw him running, and then something reached from the shadows and quickly pulled him into the thicket. The soft gurgle of bloody death hung in the air. The other men slid from their trees and gathered in a group looking for their foe. A hard, dark mass hurled through the air in their direction and landed at their feet.

  It was their comrade's head, the eyes pulled out, tongue extended and lolling.

  Blood rained on them, guts were thrown. It was too much for their weak constitutions to bear. A creature rose from the mist, something antlered with thick fur, its beastly face screaming. The men screamed, losing their wits as they ran to where the horses were tethered. They found their steeds had been cut free and were running loose in panic. The masked, silver-eyed lord cursed them for their cowardice and was left trembling in terror, alone. He loaded his gun, positioned the stock against his shoulder, aimed, and fired, but the creature had already disappeared. His guards lay at his feet, dead, their throats sliced open. He screamed, “come and face me like a man, or have you forgotten the man that you were!"

  He hissed, "In your rage Faelorn, you have forgotten yourself, and now the forest god plays you like his puppet fool." He reloaded his gun, searching the trees. He hissed, " I wish death upon you! You and that beast you call father," he muttered under his breath. He spewed a maddened shout into the mist.

  “This forest will rot; the King can't keep me out forever." Bree could just see the nobleman wander into her blurry line of sight. Both Bree and her petrified guard saw an antlered creature rise behind the masked noble. A hot stream of urine streaked down the guard's legs. He attempted to catch an untethered horse that had wandered stupidly back to camp, but the horse bucked and struck his head, killing him instantly. In all the chaos, the lord of the villagers turned to see the creature behind him. He put his gun aside, grinning madly. "You came, you fool," His voice muffled by his mask. He outstretched his arms. "Finish it, coward!" He was knocked back, flying against a tree, his back breaking on impact. As blood pooled from behind the mask, Bree thought she heard him say "Faelorn...brother" in a deathly gurgle.

  Bree lay in the snow, her life ebbing away, she was too starved, beaten, and now too cold to get up. Finally Bree thought. Her life was over, no more suffering on earth, no more pain, no more torment. She felt something cut her bounds, and she thought she saw a soft, gentle face looking at her, in a mass of vines.

  Grandmother…? No the face was male.

  Warmth enveloped her limp body as she drifted between life and death, trying to make out his bearded face. She relaxed; the heat felt lovely. It felt so wonderful, perhaps death was not as scary as the preachers had said it was. She lost consciousness; the last glimpse she caught was his face changing as he carried her away. His face morphed to animal, then monster; then prey, antlered and musky. He was strong and massive. She let the dark take her. The heat and warmth of his fur on her body gave her rest for the first time since she could remember. Finally, with a shiver, Bree died in the arms of death.

  Chapter 2

  Warmth, the feeling of soft fur on naked skin; the faint howl of the freezing wind was far away.

  Bree breathed in the musky smell of animal. She rested buried in the coat of a beast. Exhausted, she could barely open her eyes. She breathed shallowly, surrounded in comfort. Darkness and heat. Darkness and heat. Bree slumbered her head against the chest of a magnificent animal whose heartbeat was the only thing she could hear. For what felt like an eternity, Bree was lost in the dark, and she was content to stay that way for a long time.

  The sound of birds chirping and the wind's rustling were the first things she heard when she finally opened her eyes. She trembled as she stiffly got up from a pallet of furs. The sound of gently trickling water greeted her ears. She found herself inside a shallow cave. The cave was tall and hollow, rich reds and deep browns streaked the walls in delicate patterns. Moss grew on one side, and polished weathered stones decorated the floor. Bree got up disorientated; she could not recall how she arrived in the cave. Sitting up, the young woman took a deep breath and stood on wobbly legs. Grasping the furs from her pallet, she wrapped them around her willowy frame and stumbled out of the soft darkness and into the morning's harsh bright light. Just outside of the cave poured a waterfall into a spring.

  Surrounding the pool of water was shrubbery and various plant life. The birds chirped loudly, insects hummed. Bree could hardly see in front of her face as the white morning light half-blinded her.

  She could make out the spring before her, and she found herself stumbling at its edge. Dashing her feet on the slippery stones, she half fell on her knees and drank until her stomach hurt. She felt like a newborn, naked, and alone. She was so weak that she lay on the spring's edge, the cold black stones on her back. She stared at the canopy of trees above her. Her eyes watered, but the world came into focus. Sunlight filtered through thick green leaves, a bumblebee hovered overhead. Her body was not clean but not as filthy
as she remembered it last being.

  How did she get here? A jumbling of voices overwhelmed her. Shaken, she gripped her head. She could hear the breathing of the grass, trees, and scuttling of small animals. Bree steadied herself, taking a deep breath. After a long moment, she sat up and looked at her surroundings.

  Outside of the rocky cave was a field that led to a thicket of trees. Flowers grew sparsely, decorating the luscious patches of grass and clovers with pinks and whites. Bree clutched her damp furs to her sides and walked towards the forest. Towering mighty green trees reached hundreds of feet up, the trees where covered in thick green moss. She was surrounded by a thicket of bushes. Tears came to her eyes; Bree had never seen such beautiful greenery. This forest was alive; it was breathing just like the forest of old. It was not like the forest of her homeland; empty, devoid of life, ready to be harvested and transformed into eroding fields of ash.

  How? She thought she had seen the last of the wild green forests burn. Bree combed her fingers through her hair. She was confident she was dead. She remembered dying, yet somehow, she was alive. Her heart raced with fresh exhilaration. She was free! She touched the trunks of the beautiful green trees. She cried, wiping her face. It had been so long since she breathed fresh air or felt soil beneath her feet. Looking at her surroundings, there was no sign of human occupation. Bree felt very alone, standing in a green field, wearing nothing but animal furs. She walked into the forest, wincing as she scraped her feet against sharp stones, hard dirt, and twigs. She searched for signs of both animal and man. Venturing farther into the forest, Bree pushed past the thicket of bushes. She wandered, traveling through the trees when suddenly she was slammed with freezing cold.

  It was so cold that she held her furs tight and shivered, bewildered by the sudden frost at her feet. The trees had changed; they were different gnarled and wilting, and they seemed to reach for her with bent fingers. The wind blew, making the sparse leaves rattle, and more snow began to fall.