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By Abhijeet Sathe in Issue #465 of Beneath Ceaseless Skies Online Magazine The foals don’t recall the age of enthrallment because we never taught them of that dark eon when the kin marched on the cities of man. I do. I was in that horde scouring the land, mindless tools of the stillborn god. We raged and reaved until one crisp winter morning whe...
He called her Legs. “Legs for days,” he’d say, his voice thick with wonder. When he spoke to her, she was filled with a warm, heady feeling that made her purr and rub against him. She had to be careful when she did, because she was still growing into her spikes and she’d already drawn blood more than once. His skin was so flimsy, so tearable. Sh...
It was, Anna had to agree, a most excellent house. As the estate agent led them from room to room, Nigel admired the tall-shelved library, the long, ever-flowing swimming pool […]