Manis’s companions flanked her and drew swords.
“Please, don’t do this,” she implored.
“Listen to her,” Mauria added.
She had hoped to talk her way out of this fight, but the hateful glare in Manis’s eyes told her there would be no peace today. In that moment, she could see, hear, and smell everything in vivid detail. The subtle shake of Manis’s dagger. The creaking leather of his friend’s shoes as they prepared to strike. The copious alcohol that helped to fuel their belligerence.
And then her opponent on her right lifted his sword. She knew the arc it would take from only a split second’s observance. Her quick reflexes gave her ample time to parry the attack with her dagger and kick him out of the way. Her boot made solid contact with his chest, quickly sending him on his back.
Manis seemed surprised she dispensed of one of his henchmen so quickly. The other hesitated before he made his clumsy attack, giving her even more time to step to the side to miss it. She used his lack of balance from his mighty, ineffective swing to kick the back of his knee, sending him to the ground in agony.
Her brother was left. His dagger shook now more than ever. She kept an eye on his two friends but made no threatening move toward him.
“Put your blade down, Manis.”
His cheek flinched. Certainly, she had reached him—the young, sweet boy Lilly had spoken of, not this abusive blow-hard. Her brother was a victim of the Proctor Wars. The senseless violence had scarred him more than any Proctor’s blade or elder’s whip could ever hope.
But no, that sweet boy wasn’t enough to overpower the hatred that had calcified in him for all these years. He lunged toward her, but with the full weight of his body, not with the dagger. Rather than brace for the attack, she let his rage-fueled charge carry them to the ground.
He lifted his arm and prepared to punch her, so she grabbed his wrist. Rather than resist with brute force, a battle she wasn’t sure she could win, she leveraged his motion to pivot him off her. She used her speed and agility to leap up and pin him to the ground.
Manis fought against her. He was certainly more powerful, but her skill in combat helped her redirect his brutish, ham-fisted motions into a useless struggle. She patiently let him tire as she kept an eye on his friends. One appeared hobbled and unable to move, but the other was about to stand. Her dagger whistled through the air as she pointed it toward him.
“Take your sword and throw it away from you. Both of you. Now!”
They did as she said.
“Any sudden movements by either of you will cost you a limb. Perhaps more. Understood?”
They both nodded.
She eased off Manis and helped him stand. She knelt next to the man with the injured knee and examined it with his consent. She pulled up the leg of his pants and revealed considerable swelling.
“You broke his knee!” the other man said.
She carefully squeezed around the joint. “I don’t think so.”
“If your foolish friends are injured it’s certainly not Shareis’s fault,” Mauria said. “She was generous considering you tried to kill her!”
“I regret harming any of you,” she said. “But I will defend myself.”
“I will tend to all of your wounds if you agree to sit down and talk to Shareis like an adult,” Mauria said.
Manis took a deep breath, then looked to Shareis. She did her best to convey a calm, respectful nature in her countenance. He reluctantly nodded. Mauria motioned for them to come into the house.
“I thought Kytis doesn’t allow guests while he’s gone?” she asked.
“I don’t intend to tell him.”
Chapter 39
Kytis immediately noticed Frasie’s trepidation. It was clear she wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure how far she was willing to go. Had he pushed her too far?
Frasie took a deep breath. “Are you sure?”
“Regretfully so,” he replied. “The magic inherent in sensuality is lost with clothing. We wear it to keep these things to ourselves, or to those we love.”
“That’s just it… I would rather save all of that for Aiden.”
“Please don’t think I mean anything other than to paint a portrait of you, Frasie,” he quickly corrected. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She shied away. “It’s not you, it’s the situation.” She bit her bottom lip as she thought about it. “I… I’m sorry, I can’t. I mean, I love Olivia. I want to do whatever I can for her. But… that’s too much.”
He sighed. “I understand. I’m afraid there’s not anything else I can do for her.”
She fretted. “I… I feel so selfish. It shouldn’t matter so much, but… I would feel like I was betraying Aiden.”
“I’m sure Aiden cares for Olivia, too,” he said.
“Yes. But I think he’d object to me being nude in front of another man. I’m not willing to lose him or his respect.”
He took her arm and turned her to face him. He channeled his Skilla charming magic and gazed intently into her eyes. Her will was strong, but her mind remarkably open to suggestion. It took just a few seconds to overcome her objections.
“I don’t think Aiden would mind, would he?” he asked.
“I… I suppose not. No. Actually, now that I think about it, he would want me to do whatever I can.” She began removing her dress. “Olivia is worth it. Does it have to be everything?”
“I’m afraid it does.”
She removed her underclothes, then covered herself with her hands. “What do I do now?”
“Just sit on the couch,” he replied.
She took a seat and moved her hands to cover her breasts. Her leg bounced with nervous energy as her face and neck reddened.
“You’ll need to lie back, Frasie.”
She slowly eased into the seat; her legs kept tightly crossed. She repositioned her hands to continue covering everything.
“I’ll need you to move your hands, Frasie.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“Both.”
She started to protest, but after a moment of hesitation, she did as he asked. Her poise was far from graceful, but he didn’t care. Though Frasie thought herself only a plain woman from the Jeweled Woods, she had been blessed, unbeknownst to her, with a stunning figure. Before he lifted his brush, he took a long moment to glare.
Her breasts and hips were in perfect proportion to her overall shape. Freckles graced her pale skin over most of her body. Normally he would pay considerable sums to have such a beautiful model pose for him. If it were anyone but Frasie he would try to convince her she had a career in the art world, yet he knew her modest, simple appraisal of herself wouldn’t allow even the slightest hint of vanity.
And that was a strong part of her appeal. Such attractiveness wrapped in the most ordinary container. A gift to him that he didn’t feel the least bit of shame in accepting. After what he’d been through with losing his wife and later, his mother, he saw no problem with indulging in such a feast for the eyes. Frasie wasn’t an accomplice in his mother’s death, but her gorgeous feminine presence was a bonus to be thoroughly enjoyed on his road to vengeance.
It was a delight to paint Frasie. Her graceful curves allowed his brush to gently flow uninterrupted over the canvas. Her skin tone required a hint of blush but representing her freckles proved to be the most time-consuming part of his work.
Despite her usual exuberant energy, she remained remarkably still. Even though he told her he would tease out some of her sensual magic, he wouldn’t dare so such a thing—no, this precious item must be preserved, amplified, and enjoyed.
As he finished the painting, her muscles eased, and her embarrassed flush faded. Enough of her sexual being percolated through her nervous exterior to make for a truly seductive scene. Yes, according to her, she was helping her friend, but it was clear she had gradually warmed to the sensual woman within her.
It was everything he could do to restrain himself. He figur
ed there was a slim, yet perceptible chance she might accept him, but now was not the time for that. Vengeance for his mother’s death remained at the top of his list. Nothing, not even the innocent redhead in front of him, came close.
With a final, detailed stroke of the brush, he finished the work. He was immensely satisfied with the results.
“I have precisely what I need, Frasie.”
She sat upright. He noticed with satisfaction she didn’t make any attempt to cover or to reach for her underclothes. “Will it help Olivia?”
“We shall see,” he replied. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I’m just glad it might help.”
“I hope the experience wasn’t too uncomfortable.”
She stood and collected her clothes. Rather than rush to put them on, she held them in her hand as she examined the painting.
“It probably sounds horrible of me to say this, but… I like it.”
He smiled. “Really?”
“Mmm hmm. I look completely different. I figured it would show some clumsy, awkward girl.” She traced near the edge of the paint with her fingertip. “But this is good.” She gasped. “That was so conceited.”
“There is nothing wrong with gracefully accepting the beauty you’ve been given.”
Before Frasie could reply, they heard a knock on the door. Frasie looked stunned. He peered out the peephole, seeing frustration written all over Aiden’s face.
Chapter 40
Niv’s stomach churned and her head rang with a deafening shrill. Guilt consumed her. The little eyes’ helpless gaze upon her wretchedness hurt her soul. She took their only support in this world and devoured it for some sick, twisted need that lurked within her.
The young fox kits cautiously ventured out of their den. She expected them to be nervous, but instead they seemed drawn to her. Their little snouts sniffed the ground, cutting glances at her with some trepidation. They reached her folded legs and sniffed them thoroughly, then climbed in her lap. Had she not been numb, their little claws would have hurt.
She felt like a hypocrite for petting them. How dare she treat them as though she cared? If she had cared, she wouldn’t have killed their mother. But she couldn’t ignore them. She had to take them. They were now her responsibility. She gathered them in her arms and walked back to Lyndoni’s house.
On the way, she remembered how Lyndoni had directed her to go on this fateful trip. Lyndoni had to have known what would happen. She wouldn’t have listened to her if she’d known she would murder the mother of these poor innocent kits.
She stormed inside Lyndoni’s home to find her sewing. Lyndoni glanced at the kits, then resumed her work.
“You knew this would happen,” she said.
“Yes, but I didn’t know you’d adopt some adorable kits.”
“You sent me out into the woods to find my animal but neglected to tell me I’d take its life in the process.”
Lyndoni set her fabric on the arm of her chair. “Would you have gone through with it had I told you?”
“No!”
Lyndoni nodded and returned to her sewing. “Then I made the right decision.”
She put down the kits and stood next to Lyndoni. “You are taking this in stride. Is this just all in a day’s work?”
“Well… yes. Is that a problem?”
She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Are you joking?”
“Not at all.”
“I killed a mother fox… with kits!”
“The proper term is vixen, by the way.”
“What?”
“Vixen. A female fox. You killed a vixen.”
“And this is alright?”
Lyndoni looked up at her. “Do you get this worked up every time an animal is killed on your behalf?”
She sighed. “You are treating this as though nothing happened.”
“Oh, no, something wonderful happened,” Lyndoni said. “You bonded with your spirit animal. That vixen is now within you, sharing your spirit in this life. You are bound forever in a way that no human can truly understand.”
She paced around the room. “But the fox had babies!”
“Yes. I’m sure you’ll take care of them, too, won’t you?”
“Of course! But it won’t be the same.”
“No, it will probably be better,” Lyndoni replied. “You can provide a much more consistent diet for them.”
She pointed to the kits. “I doubt they’re even weaned.”
“You have two perfectly good breasts.” Lyndoni said.
She scoffed. “Are you insane?”
Lyndoni shrugged. “Probably, but I’m right. Though, you’re at an obvious disadvantage. You can only nurse two at a time.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“That last part was a joke. But in all seriousness, Niv, since the mother vixen is now integrated into your body, you may produce some milk.”
She touched her breasts. “Really?”
“A joined Druid has a close physical and spiritual connection to their animal. You will certainly lactate in your fox form.”
“My fox form?”
“As you know, your father turns into the most beautiful owl. Since you have joined with the vixen, you now possess the ability to turn into a fox, and then back again to your human form.”
She knew Druids could transform, but the fact that she could do so hadn’t soaked in until now. Her anger eased enough to allow her to sit on the edge of a nearby chair.
“They’re my kits, aren’t they?”
Lyndoni nodded her head. “Of course. Didn’t know you’d be a mom so soon, eh?”
“Is that what you meant when you said my boy would be as handsome as ever?”
“No. These are the children you bore as a vixen. You’ll still have a human boy.”
“I might have a girl.”
“I’ve been known to be wrong,” Lyndoni admitted. “Once or twice, anyway.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the kits. “They need… me.”
Lyndoni picked each up and examined them. Their wiggly and playful nature brought a smile to both of them. Each of their noses was gently but sufficiently bopped.
“They need profuse spoiling. Are you up to the task?” Lyndoni asked.
“Yes.”
Her answer surprised her. She had never been a mother, yet she now had no doubt she could approximate the job of the vixen that now resided inside her. Seeing their adorable, wide eyes and playful nature stirred strong, protective feelings.
“You should cuddle with them,” Lyndoni said. “Sit on the floor.”
She sat with her legs crossed.
“You can transform in any position, but you’ll find it most comfortable to assume a stance your animal form would find reasonable.”
“I haven’t observed fox behavior. There were few in the Jeweled Woods. But I suppose it would be easier on all fours.”
Lyndoni tilted her head. “It would work, but your human friends might find it a bit immodest. Though I think they’re prudish, you must still associate with them. I suggest sitting upright on your knees.”
She adjusted her stance. “Like this?”
“Mmm hmm. Now, close your eyes. Allow your mind to still.”
This posed no challenge to her. Even in her current state she could shove away the din of her thoughts, at least temporarily, and retreat into the stillness of her mind.
“Without opening your eyes, see yourself sitting here, as you are now, but with no form. You feel nothing—no limbs, no torso, and your head is as light as air.”
She allowed herself to float in her space. Physical reality, at least as far as she could feel, dissolved, leaving only her spirit.
“See your spirit animal in front of you then leap into it as though you were jumping into a pool of water.”
It took a bit of concentration, but she soon moved her point of reference into the fox.
“Now open your eyes.”
At f
irst, there was darkness, but in moments she could see from the animal’s perspective. Her depth of color diminished, but the detail in her field of vision was dramatically improved. The sides of her vision expanded as though she were looking through a glass bottle, giving her greatly enhanced peripheral vision.
Lyndoni seemed much taller than before. “You make a beautiful red vixen, Niv.”
She looked down and saw her hand, or rather, her paw, and lifted it to examine it more closely. Dark fur covered her forearm, and her nails glistened in the light like five tiny black obsidian stones. She returned her paw to the floor and noticed the padding underneath her feet. Small red tufts of hair poked out from between her claws.
One of her kits brushed against her. Its subtle call triggered a deep urge to embrace her children. She licked their heads then spun around the floor to find the perfect position for relaxation. Her kits awkwardly fumbled to her final location, then nestled against her belly. She wrapped her large, bushy tail around them.
“You and your babies have earned a long nap,” Lyndoni said.
She couldn’t respond in words but knew Lyndoni would notice her contented expression. Her kits began to tug at her breasts, and her body took over to nurture her young. She could barely hold her eyes open.
Lyndoni petted her head. “Rest well.”
Chapter 41
Aiden knew Kytis was inside his room. He could see his beady little eye through the peephole. Why wasn’t he opening the door?
“Just a minute,” Kytis said.
Aiden had no doubt something was wrong. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it slightly. It wasn’t locked.
“Is Frasie in there?”
A moment of silence passed. “Yes,” Kytis answered.
That was all the invitation he needed. He opened the door only to be stopped halfway by Kytis’s foot against the back of the door.
“It is customary to wait until the door is opened before entering,” Kytis said.
He caught a glimpse of Frasie. He shoved harder and opened the door fully to see Frasie nude from the waist-up.
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