Chapter 38

It was not death itself that disturbed her, indeed she had always thought it romantic when potential lovers died for her, but the vicious, untamed and savage nature of the bears made her think of fallen past loves. How many before had suffered such barbarous ends?

The brutal reality of the scene and her dark thoughts struck a chord within her, an unfamiliar feeling that she desperately wanted to be rid of. Was this what the mortals called guilt? No, it couldn't have been, he was not worthy of her affections anyway, his death was proof of that. She disregarded the thoughts as quickly as they came, and marveled at her twinkling skin, now that she looked like a walking galaxy, her tresses as soft as silk, as gentle as water but glowing a deep, incandescent red.

Her large breasts were an abyssal black, yet remained as soft, warm and as welcoming could be, her bountiful, fertile mounds dotted and dipped with moving comets and astral clouds, the celestial lights curving and swirling in tandem with her own seductive movements, outlining the irresistible ripeness of her voluptuous curves.

This was how she preferred to be seen, no longer hollow, but carrying the light of paradise within her very body. She sensed that this was going to be a night to remember.

***

Oberon screamed in agony as Torvil mutilated his wings with deft slashes from his blade. He body slammed the Elf into a rotting log, stomping down on his chest before pulling out his own daggers. Torvil was quick, rolling out of his way and parrying the lightning quick stabs from the enraged Fae.

Their mortal combat was interrupted as a massive explosion of white light washed out shadows and beams of the moon alike. The princes stared into the sky, Torvil in wonder, Oberon in terror, his hair standing on ends as The Huntsmen announced their arrival by screaming into the air, their enigmatic nature hiding whether it was joy or fury being expressed.

Both exhaled in relief as the glowing forms of The Huntsmen scattered in every direction but theirs. The Fae prince hoped that if they came for him, they would save him for last. If not, he vowed to himself that he would not go quietly into the night.

Oberon turned back to the Elf before he did, throwing one of his daggers into Torvil's leg before bounding off into the night, his shout of pain bringing a smile to his face. Time was of the essence.

The Wild Hunt had begun.

***

Oberon cleared away the sharp brambles that stuck to his face, now thoroughly bloodied and dirtied from a day of struggle. He field wrapped his wings in leafy bandages, the amputated tips stinging any time he touched them. It was of no consequence. They would grow back and he had trained himself as a hunter from the ground. No doubt the foolish Elf thought he was leveling the playing field.

He shivered as he heard piercing laughter against the sky, and his heart leapt as he feared the Huntsmen had already come. A breath of relief seeped from his lips when he didn't see any tell tale flames or flying horses. He turned back to the dark forest, absorbing the sounds of the night life.

The crickets chirped, his pointed ears twitched involuntarily as gnats hassled him, while the moonlight howls of wolves filled the air. And then he heard her. His prize. Giggles and mirthful laughs wafted through thick branches and leaves.

She stood far enough away to tease but not to be in danger, and even from this distance, Oberon could see her womanly form. He wished he had Torvil's sharp Elf eyes to fully take in her nighttime beauty. It was said when star maidens knew love they would no longer be star maidens, taking on a more humble but no less beautiful form, their allure for their mate alone...but when they knew lust...all the world would know.

Titania was awash in carnal need, the stars and heavenly formations on her skin flaring and flashing in a multitude of colors, showing her supple, voluptuous body was ripe for the taking. Her lustrous hair rested over her massive globes, her tresses glowing with ruby light, running like rivers of celestial fire down her body, outlining the curvature of her giant, round breasts.

She danced and sang in the moonlight, twisting and undulating her belly in her sacred dance, letting the heavy fullness of her pert breasts sway and quiver to the rhythm of her moves. Beams of moonlight shone down her narrow and toned back, highlighting her gyrating ass cheeks with just a sliver of light, the firm mounds of her bottom like waning crescent moons, as eager as her to be groped, felt and taken.

Her eyes were like stars unto themselves, youthful and doe-like, belying the eternity she had spent on this earth. And like a doe, her body broadcasted what she could never consciously admit to: that she wanted to be mounted by a stag, mated underneath the midnight stars for all to see.

She stopped suddenly, the generous swells on her chest heaving to her breath, before she outstretched her arms to the sky and thrust her breasts out. "Come Princes of Elves and Fae, to my lair! Show me your skill, your prowess, your mastery of the hunt if you dare!" Overwhelming arousal washed through her soul anew, causing the starry constellations on her pillowy tits to explode into radiant luminosity, milky light momentarily washing over her big soft breasts before they returned to enveloping darkness. "Only one can win me on this most auspicious of nights!"

Oberon's proud heart became heated in anger. Her taunts and jests had become most tiring, the impulsive woman having no idea just how close she was to final surrender. He smirked. All her life she had become accustomed to the endless chase, leading untold numbers of men to death and disappointment.

Tonight it all came to an end.

***

The black sky of night stretched across the sky, choking out the last rays of light. Like distant war drums, the howls and screams of the The Wild Hunt could be heard far off, sending flocks of birds scattering into the star pitted darkness.

Oberon's hands shook and trembled when he heard Torvil's steps and leaps far ahead of his own. They followed her challenge, sprinting to her lair, a well defined place where the trees joined together and intertwined to grow branches formed like elk horns.

It was bad enough that somehow Torvil had known the location that he spent years trying to find, but worse still, were the unmistakeable sounds of a woman who was enjoying the attentions of a lover. How could he have trapped her with just his bare hands? His mind reeled at how easily Torvil had caught up with her.

He was haggard, his breath raggedy as his heart sank, seeing the Elf prince begin to fondle and grope Titania. He smiled though, when he saw she had not lost her astral appearance, the Elf savoring his catch, kissing her deeply as his light hands sank into her dark, plush breasts, glowing in the dim moonlight and with the celestial bodies that danced along her skin.

It was agony to hear her moans, to see her wrap a leg around him. But the sight would not last, Torvil's fondness for luxury would be his undoing, as this was not a night for sensuality, but for conquest. Oberon drew his bow, Titania's moans covering up the creaking sound as he notched an arrow.

Torvil wallowed in the sweet taste of Titania's luscious lips as he savored her heavenly scent, reveling in the softness of her yielding body. But then his pleasure ended with racking pain, feeling a trio of arrows plunge through his back, two puncturing his lungs while one impaled his heart, bringing him to an unceremonious end as he slid down the maiden's nubile form, his face dragging down the lavish and ample slopes of her chest, slipping down her taut belly and past her dripping sex, none of it to be for his taking, as he fell to the ground.

Titania looked down on her prospective suitor with a cruel smile as he coughed out a trickle of blood. This was how she preferred death. Civilized, clean and without savagery. Two down, one to go. She looked up to her savior, and winked at him, before frolicking off into the forest with a joyful giggle, blending into the star studded night once more.

"Catch me if you can fair prince!" Her tease echoed through the forest, punctuated with more laughter.

Oberon grimaced, strapping his bow to his shoulder once more as he resumed his chase among the star lit branches. The young nymph could laugh all she wanted, she would be his. He had come too far to be swept up into The Wild Hunt.

***

Oberon moved quickly through the trees, the wind whistling through his unkempt hair as he leaped down to the forest floor. Distantly, he was aware of the melodious laughter of his prey, growing closer and closer.

He produced fine, nearly immaterial chords from his rucksack, the delicate threads invisible in the shadow of night as he strung it from tree to tree, his traps set at ankle, waist and chest level. He tested them, flicking their strained spans with his fingers, letting a resonant, vibrating sound play across their lengths.

With a silent motion he hopped back up to his forest perch, his woodsman regalia making him invisible against the shaded bark of the trees, the sparkling glint of his eyes blending in with the starry sky.

***

Titania moved as fast as light and blended just as completely with the sky and the shadows. The deaths of Gebson and Torvil had her thinking, about the hunt, and her life. A part of her wanted to still be free and run among the trees for eternity...but eternity was a long time, especially with none to please her pent up desires, to please her yearning to love and to be loved. To give herself up to a mortal would mark the end of her own immortality, a dear gift that she did not want to part with. It had to be the right man, but the right man did not breathe on this earth!

She was ripped from her thoughts when she felt rope wrap around her dainty ankles, and then the rest of her body, throwing her face first into the ground, a plume of autumn leaves blowing up in the air to accompany her descent.

"Got you!" said the icy voice of the man she defied and desired.

She screamed as she felt more rope wrap around her wrists and a rough boot push her legs apart as she became spread eagle on the forest floor. This was it, a worthy hunter at last, come to claim her! As much as her loins urged to be filled and be overcome by Oberon's embrace, there was still a part of her that told her she wasn't done yet, that this didn't have to be easy.

Her survival instinct kicked in, clamoring to hold on to her immortality and remain a Star Goddess for just a little longer. She thrashed in her restraints, howling into the wood even more, desperate for any aid from the forest spirits. But, as a Daughter of the Gods, her teasing, vexing and tempting nature had cost her the friendship of many a woodland creature. She had slighted too many and dallied too long in their trees. Now none would help, leaving her celestial spirit and body to be burned away in the fires of the prince's lust.

She shuddered as she felt his voice in her ear. "You should have joined your sisters in the sky when you had the chance...enjoy the fruits of your mocks you trifling little nymph!" He flipped her glistening body over, ripping down his pants as he spared a fearful glance into the sky. The Huntsmen grew ever closer, their screams becoming more maniacal as the fires they spread in the sky glowed ever brighter.

He crushed his lips against her mouth, mad with lust. She gasped as she felt the head of his cock brush up against her pussy, her legs trembling with fear and anticipation until in the space of one sharp breath he impaled her, his throbbing manhood piercing into her moistened folds as if they were made for each other.

Her intense moans accompanied his groans, his cock unused to the sheer heat and wetness that awaited in her tight slit, more responsive and welcoming than any mortal he had been in. His hands moved up to her starry tits, his fingers cupping and squeezing around her huge, ripe and fertile slopes. Her pliant globes were achingly soft against his grabbing hands, globes that he had longed to fondle and hold since he very first saw her.

Now that he had them, they were-she was everything he thought she would be. Her melodious moans sang to his soul, the very embodiment of the feminine, urging him on to sow his seed and make her his mate. His deeper, more powerful thrusts were the response to her lustful command, his eyes taken with the sensuous display of the cosmos that danced along her lithe form.