by Rose Haven
"Is he Rion's?"
"Yeah," Zak said, nearly sad. "His mom was killed before Rion became leader. Rion takes women to his cave now and then, but nothing serious since her. Poor guy."
He smiled though, folding his arms.
"Connor's never lonely though. The whole pack takes care of him, now. It's the least we can do for our Alpha."
Someone called Zak's name, catching his attention. He was gone before Elizabeth could ask anything else. She sighed, resting her head in her hands as she watched Rion and Connor from afar, unwillingly fascinated by this single father and his passion for life. Luthias would come for her soon, she knew. Perhaps there was no harm in relaxing during this strange interlude from the palace.
That's the spirit, said the voice she wished would go straight to hell.
Chapter 3: Thrill of the Hunt
Weeks passed. Elizabeth had had to shed most of her clunky garments to travel with the very mobile pack; all that remained of her clothing now was her slip and undergarments, though she had quickly given up wearing a bra in the wild. While she was careful to keep her distance, Rion remained an object of fascination. The Alpha led his people through the woods with certainty, never changing course, though she had no idea where exactly they were going. He was curt and rough with everyone but his young son, who alone received nuzzles while they sat around the fire at night.
Elizabeth was made to stick to certain areas of the camps, designated as the dwelling place of Rion's "inner circle." Rion always slept separate from them, though, on some higher ground that could be considered a lookout. Even at rest, he was taking care of his pack. It was one of the many things that made it hard to hate him.
It was late afternoon, and the pack had stopped beside a river to replenish their water pouches. Elizabeth jumped at the opportunity to bathe. Her clothes folded up on the bank, she descended into the cold water with a shiver, reminding herself it was better to be cold and clean than sit in her own filth for another day. Her nipples puckered, as even her huge breasts seemed to shrink from the uninvited chill of washing outside in autumn. Clenching her teeth to stop their chattering, she rubbed a smooth rock over her skin, starting at her shoulders, working down over her belly, and to her feet, slowly rubbing away the residue of the journey thus far. As she grew numb to the water, she began to do it slower. It was relaxing, even, to rub the stone into her breast, slowly warming the mound and softening its peak. She was too distracted to notice the approach of monstrous predator, until she saw its shadow fall across the water.
"Oh god—”
She dropped the rock in a panic, whipping around to find herself at eye level with a massive red wolf. He must have been twice the size of a dire wolf, with a long snout and a powerful figure, paws large enough to smother a crow. Elizabeth was on the verge of a heart attack when suddenly she placed the brilliant green of the wolf's eyes—Rion's eyes.
"Rion?" she asked.
The wolf bared his teeth in something of a grin. It stretched back on hind legs before transforming before her eyes, the whole of him reshaping to the man she knew—naked as the day he was born. She covered herself quickly and averted her eyes, mortified.
"W-what are you doing here?" she demanded.
"I can't lose track of you. You know that."
Rion didn't look ashamed of his nakedness. Nor should he be, she thought briefly, when she couldn't help but peek. She had been right about his manhood, dangling distractingly between powerful thighs. Luthias had him beat with length, but Rion's was...thicker.
"I was coming back to camp," she said, kneeling in the water to hide herself better. "I have nowhere to run to."
"Better to be safe."
He didn't appear to care that she was trying to hide. He looked her over before nodding, as if with approval.
"The lord has taste," he said.
She turned a furious shade of red, left tongue-tied once again. Having said his peace, Rion withdrew to the nearest tree, seating himself at the roots.
"You can finish washing," he declared. "Then we return."
Flustered, Elizabeth turned her back on him, picking up the rock and returning to what she had started. She could feel his eyes on her back as she worked. It wasn't quite wanting, she realized, but there was a sort of curiosity about it. She realized that he was surrounded by naked women all the time, so he wasn't one to be aroused at the mere sight of bare flesh. The only one uncomfortable with her body was her. Knowing this, she relaxed. Finished with the stone, she dunked her head beneath the water to rinse her hair, rising again the wring out the golden locks.
Before long, she looked over her shoulder, surprised to see Rion's gaze had wandered past her to the setting sun. He looked thoughtful, even wise. When she stepped onto the shore though, his attention returned.
"Done?"
She nodded, fumbling to pull on her dress. Out of her element, the former escort was all but self-conscious. She had never been naked with a man without the intention of sex in the air—she didn't want to invite that possibility now.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," Rion said, making her realize how obvious she must be. "I have no intention of doing anything to you."
"Are Canines not your type?"
She was surprised to hear him chuckle.
"On the contrary. I think we'd have a great time. I just don't try to lure attached women—if they want me, I'll oblige, but only because I assume then that their man isn't worthy of my respect."
Elizabeth was beginning to understand the relative simplicity of Rion. There were so many layers to Luthias that Elizabeth's budding love for him was something of a leap of faith. In comparison, Rion seemed to live by simple rules. Defend the pack. Love your child. Respect your opponent. Improve your skills. In some ways, it was a relief.
"I've never actually seen a demon as an animal," she admitted, curious. "Are all the Wolves as big as you?" She paused. "As an animal," she added.
He smirked, but shook his head.
"My father was of an older bloodline," he explained. "The closer your blood is to the First Father, the larger your natural form is. The true forms of most of my pack members are...comparable to that of the ordinary wolves in the region. It's an advantage. Our ancestors were massive and unwieldy. I've had to train myself to be agile in my real form, to make up for its size."
"So Lord Luthias can be a dog?" she asked.
She couldn't help but smile at the idea of Luthias as a black lab, grumpy when they were out of kibble. However, Rion shook his head.
"The Canines are the newest breed born of the Father. The newest born, but the first to 'civilize.' They pride themselves on their monstrous forms, which is why their lords wait so long to produce an offspring, and even then they'll breed with a close relative—for purity, I guess. The further diluted their blood gets, the more the symbol of their power fades. If Luthias were to transform, I expect he could break trees in his teeth."
Hearing this, she grew pale. Somehow, that did seem more befitting of Luthias.
"What about me?" she asked, quieter. "They say...I'm one of them. A Canine."
Elizabeth was surprised to see Rion nod. He tapped his nose.
"You smell of them. Maybe not pure, but you're not human."
"But I can't do what you do."
"Your energy never awakened," he said, shrugging. "It does when you're around other demons. Usually when you're a kid, since we have to breed in these human forms...when our natural forms were larger, having pups would have been tricky otherwise. I'm guessing you didn't grow up with Canines."
She shook her head. He didn't seem surprised.
"Give it time, then. It'll happen."
He was unusually patient with such questions. She recalled that Connor's mother had been a halfling, and wondered if halflings born to human mothers grew up with similar confusions. Before she could muster the courage to ask after his late partner, he had stood, putting her eyes-to-pelvis with his phallas. She didn't even realize he was offer
ing his hand to her, too fascinated with the confidence of a man with his cock just dangling on full display.
"I'm taking you back to camp," he said.
"Oh."
She tore her eyes from his junk to take his hand, leaning on him to stand.
"Where are you staying tonight?" she asked, though she didn't know what compelled her to do so.
"The cave overlooking camp," he said, apparently not finding the question strange. "You'll see it."
Rion released her hand, walking ahead, expecting her to follow. She would do so, trying again to ignore the headache blooming at the base of her skull. It always meant one thing, and today, she wasn't going to let it win. Elizabeth didn't let the voice surface. She forced it as far down as it could go, closing her inner mind off to the foreign thoughts. The following silence felt like victory; maybe, just maybe, her sanity had returned. Little did she know that although she had won the battle, the war was just beginning.
--
That night, Rion was alone in the cave. Connor had wanted to sleep by a friend's campfire, and he didn't often say no to his son. Even so, he fretted, finding himself uncharacteristically shifting and readjusting the bear hides he had brought to sleep on. Maybe it did bother him that Connor was sleeping elsewhere. He knew he had to get over it. He couldn't though. His overactive mind kept him up, which was the only reason he was awake when Elizabeth suddenly appeared at the mouth of the cave—one strap of her silk slip hanging off her shoulder, a strange glint in her eye.
He sat up, curious. He couldn't deny that the sight of her was appealing, though unexpected.
"Elizabeth," he greeted.
She pressed a finger to her lips, as if to hush him. As he watched, she slid down the strap that had been properly secure, causing the loosed slip to slide down and almost reveal the shapely breasts he had admired just that evening. Their temporary concealment was surprisingly arousing; his usual control of himself was undermined by his surprise. He could already feel himself growing hard.
"You're Luthias' woman," he said, half to her and half to himself. "You know he's not one to be trifled with."
"Haven't you wanted to be with a Canine bitch?" Elizabeth said, her voice smooth and inviting.
Rion could hardly answer her. He could only watch as the slip finally came down, revealing those mounds like swollen cantaloupes, distracting from thin shoulders, narrow hips, a waist so tapered and small. She was unlike any Wolf he had encountered. His cock was hard now and she hadn't even touched him, perked by his unrestrained thoughts of filling that narrow passage between her thighs, plumping up her flat stomach with his seed. He was hurting with want.
"Poor Wolf is speechless," she sighed, as she slowly knelt before him. "Let me see if I can take the edge off..."
As she pushed his legs apart and settled there, slowly leaning down to greet his member, he couldn't bring himself to refuse her. Her tongue ran up the underside of its shaft with such skill, coming to trace its head in a long, slow circle. Suddenly, he was in her mouth. She sucked steadily on the head alone, while her fingertips pressed curiously against his taint, and she just sucked, and sucked, causing his blood to pulse against the sensitive surface. He thought he would explode then, but her mouth left him before he could, causing him to grunt and bare his teeth with the unresolved buildup of pressure.
She smirked, knowing what she did. She sat there, between his legs, golden hair in tangled waves around her arms and hips. Her magnificent breasts were squeezed between her thin arms, pink peaks erect and begging to be touched.
"Do you want me, Alpha?" she asked.
He could hardly think. This was a far cry from the Elizabeth he thought he knew. He had pegged her as submissive, even shy. But this woman...what a woman...
"Yes," he growled.
She smiled. She touched his leg before she shifted back on the bear pelt, away from him. Leaning back on her hands, displaying her chest and tight stomach, she spread her legs for him. Her head tilted with inviting curiosity, hair draping over one shoulder as that infuriating smile lingered.
"I'm here," she said. "I'll keep your cock cozy, after you tell me what you're going to do to me."
He thought his dick couldn't swell any more, but for the first time he was mistaken. Eagerly, he accepted her invitation and would lean over her, him now sitting between her knees, a hand cupping her dripping cunt.
"I'm going to fuck you harder than that prissy lord could dream of," he said, gripping her shoulder to pin her to the pelt.
She didn't protest, letting him hold her down. Her arms splayed as she gazed up at him, expectant, coy.
"Can you make it fit?" she asked, her smile challenging him.
"It had better," he snarled. "Or I'll stuff you till you pop."
"Please," she laughed, gripping the coarse fur beneath her, spreading her legs wide. "I'm so hollow..."
He pressed three fingers inside her, spreading her walls in preparation for his throbbing organ—her low moan was music to his ears. His fingers left and at last, his cock sunk in deep, her tight pussy squeezing his girth. A groan rumbled in his chest as he gripped her knees, which pressed against his sides, using them as leverage to thrust deeper inside, then deeper again, inspiring a rising scream of delight from the beautiful Canine. She was almost sitting up, fingers buried in his hair as her back arched, bringing her bouncing breasts close enough to taste. His palms left her knees to lift a mound in each hand, his thumbs rolling her sensitive peaks as he bucked again, and again, the juices of her slit flowing with her moans and cries. He couldn't take it. She was so tight, so slick, his member was covered in her cum and that just made him more eager to fit more of himself inside her, pressure building, building, until at last his rock-hard cock erupted in this long, powerful spilling inside her.
She climaxed too. He could feel her tight slit tremble and massage the last of his seed into her body, drinking it in, as her hands rolled orgasmically down her chest, to press against her belly, and then to her clit. If he had had anything left to give, he would have exploded a second time over. He never wanted to leave her.
He touched her hair, breathing hard, his forehead pressed to hers. But at last, their bodies parted. Fluids leaked, but he pulled her into his arms, to lay by his side. Elizabeth looked...surprised. After this initial hesitation, she would cup his cheek, her eyes softening.
"You want me to stay?" she asked.
He nodded, and would kiss her palm.
"How could I let you leave?" he asked.
Rion pressed her hair away from her neck, sweaty as his was. He kissed the exposed skin, tasting the salt. He savored it.
"I'll stay, if you want me to," Elizabeth relented, quieter.
The Alpha nodded, hiding a small smile. He would close his eyes, letting grogginess wash over him. He did not fear consequences. Now, his thoughts were filled with her.
Chapter 4: Poisoned by Thought
Morning light streamed in through the treetops, touching the cave floor by Elizabeth's head. She slowly opened her eyes, her head aching. As she sat up, feeling a painful stinging between her legs, noticing the unfamiliar environment, she went cold.
No...
Her gaze settled on Rion, naked, fast asleep on his back. She saw her dress, the thin slip, discarded in the corner. So intense was her denial that for at least five minutes, she didn't move at all. She was frozen to that spot, where her feelings circled round and around outside herself, until they struck her like lightning.
What have I done?
Elizabeth barely managed to grab her dress before she stumbled out of the cave. Suddenly, she was running. She knew full well that she had nowhere to go, that she didn't know where she was, and that she faced more danger in the forest without the Wolves than if she could stomach it to stay in their numbers. None of that mattered. She ran until her uncalloused feet started to bleed, and even then made it yards more, adrenaline blocking out all pain. She only stopped when her legs gave out, forcing her to drop to her k
nees in the mud, where she dry heaved until her stomach gave up trying to eject much of anything.
She started to cry. For getting herself muddy after finally bathing, for being stolen away from Luthias and Kieran, and more than anything, for whatever curse had made her lose herself to the vengeful bitch who had taken up residence in the back of her mind, whispering cruelty and refusing to justify her existence. She cried because she was Emilie, and she had no idea what that meant.
It was a long time before she rose to her feet, shaking. She was about to begin the mournful walk back home when suddenly, a familiar voice greeted her.
"Elizabeth!"
Kieran dropped down in front of her, apparently from the branches of a tree above. He choked her with a bear hug that felt both punishing and kind.
"Oh you stupid bitch, Elizabeth, thank god," he said, his clawed hand resting on the back of her head. "Did they hurt you?"
She shook her head, biting back tears. Relief flowed through her.
"I'm fine," she said, and meant it as much as she could. "Just...shaken."
He pulled back, lifting her chin this way and that, as if examining her for marks. She pulled back exasperated, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Where's Luthias?" she asked, what she really wanted to know.
"He went ahead to the pack. He's probably breaking spines, but they deserve it. God damn Wolves..."
Fear struck her all over again. She remembered what Rion had said about Luthias' true form; despite the abduction, she wished no harm on the pack that had treated her so kindly the last few weeks. As if possessed, she turned and ran back the direction she had fled from, prompting Kieran to follow in frustration.
"What the hell, Elizabeth?!"
He was ignored, her focus on the pack, and Rion. Maybe she was too late to prevent damage, but she knew she could stop Luthias from rampaging. Probably. Everything aside, she had to try.
If she hadn't been warned of the reality beforehand, the scene at camp would likely have sent her into shock. She came upon a horde of bloodied wolves, a mass of fur and claws and broken bones, all attempting to face a common enemy: an enormous beast nearly the size of the clearing, a giant black dog with teeth the size of swords, eyes glowing the same crimson as the cloud that swirled around him, an aura solidified in a poison mist. She couldn't believe this was Luthias. At last, she knew why people trembled with fear when he entered a room.