The Wild Hunt

The Wild Hunt
Stephanie Burke
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Stephanie Burke
Excerpt from The Stag

“Good evening, denizens of The Wild Hunt,” a deep, smooth feminine voice announced as the club stilled. “If I may direct your attention to the front of the stage, I would like to introduce your hosts for the evening. May I present to you, The Stag…” A spotlight flashed on the high, elevated platform shrouded by sheer black lace that cast intriguing shadows against the blood-red walls behind the people gathered there. The spotlight danced over what appeared to be three figures clustered around a large fainting couch before it settled on a large, muscular figure with the most amazing set of antlers attached to his head. As the stage lights brightened a little, the figure… The Stag… crossed arms over the most exquisite chest that Thomas had ever seen. He could admit it. He drooled a little just looking at what he could see of the man and knew from the spike in arousal from the scents of the bodies around him that he wasn’t the only one.

“The Wolf,” the voice continued, but Thomas could only tear his eyes away from The Stag long enough to take in the shadowed features of a woman with a set of very realistic wolf ears perched on her head, with a gorgeous animatronic tail that waved as she crawled over the fainting couch to lounge at the side of another figure who was beautifully reclined upon the massive thing but still cast in shadows. After noting that there was indeed a wolf being introduced, his eyes went back to the masculine form, still mostly in shadows, with the magnificent rack of horns that he suddenly recognized.

Thomas peered down at his ticket and the black logo embossed on the gold card. There, above the bold black lettering was indeed the set of horns in profile, the very set of horns he was staring at when the announcer spoke again.

“The Bear.”

And yes, that man highlighted by the spots was indeed a huge bear of a man. Taller and broader than The Stag, The Bear, was near the bottom of the couch with crossed arms as well, and his muscles just popped.

“Mercy,” Marshal whimpered, tugging at Thomas’s scarf again. “The things he could do to me.”

“Like break you in half,” Thomas whispered, his eyes going back to The Stag. It was like he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“And the beautiful, the charismatic, the dangerous owner of this fine establishment, ladies, gentlemen, those undecided, in between, or neutral, may I present to you… Master of The Hunt!”

The spotlights disappeared as the stage lights went up fully and everyone got their first real look at their hosts for the evening.

The Master of the Hunt was shrouded in black silk robes that hid his or her frame. Seriously, this was a case of true androgyny and Thomas would bet what little magic he possessed that it was exactly how the Master wanted it. Their face was covered in a lacy black veil that hid their face entirely. Their hair was a dark, wavy fall that was not contained and allowed to fluff up wild and free, almost as if it had a mind of its own.

The Wolf was now lying at The Master’s hip, her lightly tanned skin a startling contrast to the solid black of the fainting couch and the silk that surrounded The Master. Her light gray wolf’s ears twitched as the painted black fingers of The Master gently stroked over them, and her matching tail thumped once in happiness. Her hair was a blending of perfect blondes that flowed over her shoulder and around a toned body wrapped in bangles and chains of sparkling silver. She glanced over the crowd with disdain and stretched her long, tight frame before settling at The Master’s side, contentment pouring off of her in waves that Thomas could almost feel.