Howl & Growl: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Various Authors

  All while he bellowed such raucous pleasure.

  She was so tiny, his seed so plentiful and she was shocked by the power of it. The force as it splattered against her skin, her body tensed.

  But then she relaxed into the hardness of the tree root, the rocks and dirt biting into her flesh as she lay there, looking up at him with such...

  She wasn’t sure of a word for it. Conflicted, beautiful love. Affection. Desire. Fear.

  He was the source of her misery and her joy, and she shivered ‘neath him.

  That large, brute descended over her, released her legs and pressed both palms beside her head. He dipped down, kissed her lips, even tasted the salty splatter of his human seed that had managed to land upon them.

  “My sweet pet,” he rumbled so affectionately. “I shall never let you go again. I shall chain you to me in every way imaginable, that you could never be stolen. Never be freed from my possession.”

  It was so sick how much she craved and delighted in his words, his sweet, dark promises. She shouldn’t want for such things. Crave such wicked, heinous acts with someone so wrong and terrible as he.

  But even then, she did. Even as she was sullied in his seed, her flesh hot with arousal and excitement, she longed to be back in his lair.

  Her Master kissed her so long, so passionately. It took him an age it seemed before he rose up and left her pretty little lips raw. He looked her over then, saw her beautiful flesh sullied by all that thick seed. A curious thing happened then, a jealous gaze came over him. For though he possessed that savage, the flesh was not entirely his own.

  “Clean this off of you! You’re mine,” he growled and bent down, licking some of the salty cream from her flesh. He rose up to her lips, and thrust a thick glob of it into her mouth.

  She didn’t know what to do other than obey, to let her tongue trail against his, gathering that salty fluid into her and feeling such intense shame and fear at his sudden change in demeanor. She would never be wholly used to those shifts in his personality, the way he always kept her on her toes.

  He cleaned her pale, petite figure and fed her the twisted remnants of his seed upon his very tongue, until at last she was once more free of that taint on her skin. Only then did he curl up with her, pull her tiny body to him.

  “We rest until nightfall,” he said, their magically created hideout closing in around them, hiding them from the outside world.

  And her exhaustion was so great that she didn’t fight it, lost to the world in his arms, her dreams filled with such beauty, to slowly be corrupted once more.

  ~~

  Lhea awoke from a dreamscape of nightmarish qualities to the horrific sound of bones snapping and flesh rending. It was her Master’s puppet; he shifted before her weary eyes back into the visage of a might wolf, tall and menacing.

  The dark fur grew out of his flesh until he was completed, and he shook to make himself accustomed to the new shape.

  When the stump parted, he stuck his snout out to inhale the scents upon the air, cautiously studying the area in a way only a beast such as him could.

  She was so groggy, all of her muscles filled with gnawing pains. She was stiff and pushed herself up, covered in dirt and grime from the long day. The sounds were the thing of horror, and she was still nude, her dainty form sullied by the debris of the ground.

  She forced herself up, dusted off what she could and inhaled his wolfen scent.

  “Master?” she asked, her voice delicate.

  He took a moment before he responded, assessing the situation, the scents on the air. At last he turned and looked to her with his ruby, lupine eyes.

  “They have been near,” he rumbled before lowering himself down once more. “Climb on. I will have you home before the night is through,” he pledged. He promised to take her home. His home? No, something about how he said that made it sound distinctly like her home.

  She climbed atop him without hesitation, this time, tugging on her dress as she did. She remembered back to the sweet songs he’d played after they’d coupled, the almost romantic tone to them. They were still laced with madness, his madness, but it had a quality that was unique. That had been inspired by her.

  No, she understood quite well that they’d changed one another. She’d freed part of him from his curse, sparing him from a life of solitude and loneliness, and he’d offered her the same in return.

  Her lupine-Master rose up and without any further delay he set off, loping over the forest floor. Though he was slower this time, taking caution seriously as he tested the air, tracking their own hunters. He was well at home in his bestial form somehow, and he put it to best use.

  Before long they were moving at a steady pace, and the forest was fast growing darker, more ominous. It was night time, and beneath the canopy already so black, but as they grew closer to His domain, the darkness became an inky black void that sucked in all light, every glimmer of it. An eerie, unsettling vibe filled the air the closer they went, but something more…

  Lhea could sense a presence. Something she’d detected before, though her Master showed no recognition of it.

  Her fingers tightened along his neck, clutched at his fur as she leaned in. Her head pressed against the relative softness of his ears, her voice so light.

  “Master... there’s something,” she said, though she didn’t know how to put it into better terms than that. It was just a sense of unease, of strangeness that she didn’t like or enjoy.

  What was it?

  His pace slowed, though neither of them knew exactly what to do. He merely took a moment to take stock of the situation and—

  They went headlong into an invisible net.

  No, she realized, not a net: a web.

  Her Master was stuck in it, his furry form knotted in its near invisible fibers, though she herself was free. He writhed and struggled against it, angrily letting loose a growl. Lhea didn’t need to hear the sharp, peel of laughter to know who it came from.

  Zephena.

  The former Queen of her Master’s land.

  “Stumbled right into my trap,” she mused in her imperious tone, so supremely full of herself as she emerged from the shadows, clad in her dark robes.

  Yet Lhea felt almost calm. Perhaps it was wrong to feel that way. She should have felt panic, worry.

  But he’d chased the woman out before. How could he not succeed again?

  She moved back, away from the invisible thing, and looked around for Zephena, her breathing tight as she took to the air. Her wings beat hard as she lifted herself into the darkness of the leaves and trees.

  The tall, stick-thin woman approached, and Lhea could see a glimmering dagger come from her cloak. Then another. And another. Six of them, each glistening like starlight.

  “The King is dead, long live the Queen,” she proclaimed in a hateful tone, advancing upon Lhea’s Master who still struggled with the web, his furred form writhing in futility.

  Lhea didn’t understand the magics, or what would happen to her real Master should his host be killed. But she knew that she wouldn’t risk losing him.

  She desperately looked about for a way to free him, even as she screamed. The sound was high pitched, and that warble to it was reminiscent of his songs, the ones that had lured her to him in the first place.

  That manic, maddening sound had a bizarre effect, for it made the Spider Queen clutch at her ears with two hands, and more important still… the web that held her Master hummed. It vibrated madly, about him, making the furred beast flail harder. The vibration her voice caused made the webbing shake intensely, more and more until…

  It shattered. As if it were made of glass. The rhythm of her Master’s music undid her spell and the wolf was free. He landed back upon the ground and shook off the shards of webbing before he pounced upon Zephena herself.

  She still had four of her hands free however, and as he went for her she slashed out desperately in four different directions which forced him to pull back at the last moment and
dodge.

  They faced off, but the longer she held that music the more Zephena had to struggle to keep up her end. It was a foregone conclusion, doubly so with Lhea’s help.

  Her Master bit at one of the Spider Queen’s arms and a dagger clattered to the ground. She slashed with her other arms, but he dodged. Another arm was rendered helpless as he forced her to drop another dagger. Then another.

  The fight was at its end, when her Master managed to get in behind Zephena and knock her to the ground, ready to rip into her neck as he had Balovo the Stag.

  Her maddening music stopped and instead was replaced by a wailed, “No!” She didn’t want him to kill again, not because of her. Not because of anything.

  She fluttered down towards him, her clear eyes wide. “Please,” she gasped, breathless from the song.

  Her Master halted, but he turned his fanged muzzle towards her in a seeming rage. He let loose such an enraged growl, and looked almost ready to rip at her instead. But he didn’t. He licked at his maw and then down at Zephena.

  With a bound backwards, he took his weight off of her and left her the woman prone. Though with a howl, dark tendrils rose up out of the ground, then lashed around her form, a great wail erupted from Zephena, and then… she was sucked into an inky pool and out of sight.

  Lhea remembered that was the exact same way that her Master had claimed her as captive. Captive, but alive.

  Lhea’s heart pitter pattered in her chest as she slowly let herself downward, touching her toes to the earth as she looked at the wolf. She was slower to move towards him, her hand finding his head where she rubbed him gingerly along the ear.

  Though she didn’t tarry long as he pressed his nose in against her, that warm muzzle a curious reassurance. She climbed up on his back as soon as he allowed it, and clung to his fur.

  ~~

  Once back in the realm of her Master, it seemed like his wolfen form travelled all the quicker even. He ran across the dark ground at such an incredible speed, taking her closer and closer to their destination.

  Then the looming shadow of his immense tower came into view. That twisted, bulbous thing, so uneven yet darkly beautiful, a mass of fungal blooms that grew to staggering height to dominate the land. Through the gaps created by the dead or dying trees, she could see it looming over them.

  Safety and home came in odd forms for Lhea after her Master’s twisted use of her. That such a place was home, that the rise of great, horned bugs and wriggling things out of the ground the size of dwarves were seen as a comfort, was unsettling in its own way.

  Even the pain she felt, the sorrow at having gotten the sweet elf killed when all he had wished to do was protect her, was like a swaddling about her. A thing that cocooned her in its misery and made her feel an eerie sense of peace.

  She clung to Him tighter, hugging Him rather than simply holding on for her life.

  She feared that they might come across more of the fellowship on their way, but as they went beyond her Master’s minions and deep into his woodland realm, she grew confident that risk was past.

  All that was left was to approach the great, dark tower, its mighty gates swung open before them and thus was her silent welcoming to the void of his halls.

  On through the entryway, her wolfen Master took her straight to his throne room. Right to the heart of his lair, where He sat in quiet solitude. Alone on his throne of thorns, his body sprawled upon it as he lay in some sort of trance with his dark hair strewn about his shoulders, a tight vest clutching his torso and billowy sleeves about his arms.

  The twisted halls, the macabre decorations, all filled her with such dread and warmth, but the sight of Him in all his glory gave her pause. She’d not forgotten anything of his handsome visage, the way he smiled at her. She’d never have gotten over the dark caresses, the things he’d taught her.

  No mere potion could make her forget her true love.

  “Master,” she said as she wiggled from the wolf, staring between the two.

  Her Master was slow to wake, the wolf shifted and growled, shook and bristled until at last…

  His eyes opened. His true eyes.

  So aquiline and beautiful, like two glimmering rubies. He stood up and all the world seemed to spin about Lhea, she felt herself pulled — or did she merely flutter in towards him? Was it both? — and without him moving his arms were about her, crushing her slender form against his lean, hard chest.

  His lips found hers and he kissed her, warmly, passionately. The long separation having made his passion for her so intense, even after their time together on their journey, experienced through his surrogate self.

  “My dearest,” he said breathily as their lips parted once more, and he gazed into her eyes.

  Again her eyes spilled tears, pure and clear as she touched at his face, his chest, trying to convince herself he was real. She needed so desperately to experience him, and her little mouth worked against his.

  Her faerie wings fluttered excitedly as her body met his, soft little whimpers and murmurs coming from her lips.

  Their moment of reunion was blissfully sweet, torturously tumultuous. And so damn short. Even as Lhea’s little hands felt out her Master’s chest and face, reacquainted herself with the feel of him as he truly was, the wolf behind them growled in anger.

  “You play a foul game with me!” came the growling words of that werewolf, the beast crouched down in a predatory stance.

  Her Master cradled her to his chest and turned to the side to face the beast, holding her back behind him protectively.

  “I gave you exactly what I promised. The power to infiltrate the elven lands, kill all those that kept my most prized possession from me, and return what’s mine,” her Master declared so haughtily. He was not afraid of the beast-man.

  But Lhea was. She didn’t understand the lengths He’d gone through to possess the human, and bristled at the way he spoke to her Master. She shifted to turn her gaze back to the werewolf, her lower lip quivering as she pressed closer to her Master.

  “It was a violation!” came the werewolf’s response, anger welling up through a barking voice that was not even human nor beast, but something else altogether.

  “It was the greatest gift ever bestowed upon a mere mortal!” Her Master declared in a rage of His own. “Now get thee gone from my tower before I change my mind and let you keep nothing, not even your life!” He shouted with anger as He clutched her to His chest and side.

  The wolf still bristled and raged, but it quieted and eased back just a little.

  “There was yet more to our bargain, sorcerer!” he growled. “The faerie! I demand one of my own!”

  Lhea’s eyes went wide as she looked to her Master, pain etched into her features, tears glittering in her eyes.

  “Not Fillia,” she pleaded, so softly. He’d agreed to release her, just before she was so cruelly snatched from him. She was her sister’s only chance of escape and she couldn’t be the one to have cost her it all.

  Her Master’s pointed ear twitched at that tone in her voice and He squeezed her tight, His hand cupped upon her pert rear.

  “That was not our deal!” her Master boomed out with such powerful indignation, His voice so much louder than it should have been, than any man His size could have done.

  The wolf snarled and looked ready to lunge before her Master spoke again.

  “I said I would release the other faerie! Not that I would hand her to you,” her Master said so sneeringly.

  The wolf’s jowls quivered, fangs bared as he growled so loudly.

  “You tricked me!” he snarled.

  Lhea turned her face into his chest, hiding that malicious smile, her enjoyment of the deception. But it radiated off of her, as clear as anything, and her fingers tightened into her Master’s vest.

  That vial the elf had given her had failed to turn her back to how she’d been. Whatever dark magic had corrupted her it removed, but her Master’s imprint was deep, soul deep. She took such joy in Her Master
’s deception, as deep as His.

  “Now get thee gone, mutt!” her Master declared, His arm flung out as He cast some sort of spell that evicted the werewolf from His manor.

  “You deceitful vermin!” snarled the wolf as it was flung through the gates and cast out of the great tower to roll upon the ground outside.

  It left them alone at last. Lhea and her Master together again.

  “My fair Pixie,” He cooed, stroking a hand over her smooth, fair cheek. His embrace was so fond, so tender, so loving. How such a twisted, wicked man could feel so deeply for her was beyond reckoning. But He did. Completely and without a shadow of a doubt.

  And for all the things He’d done to her, leaving her suspended and prone. Leaving her body in a void of nothingness, refusing her the ability to move her delicate muscles. Punishing her for any minor slight.

  Somehow it had drawn them closer, and she felt a connection with Him that ran deeper than anything she’d ever known.

  Her cheek was so soft against His hand and she nuzzled into it, her every motion filled with such affection.

  He held her aloft with such ease, He simply refused to let her go again after so long apart. His dark fingers stroked her flesh, appreciated every little inch of her petite form. Those nimble fingers of His undid her flowery dress from the elves, let it come loose before He tugged it away.

  “My love,” He murred affectionately, His hand slid over her chest, across her dainty mounds of breast flesh. He was in love, there was no question of that. The way He looked at her, felt her, it was all so intoxicating. He expressed himself so much more openly. The floodgates had been opened, only to be pushed back prematurely, and her Master could not contain himself.

  But the things she longed for, it transcended His soft and delicate touches, His eagerness for her body. She needed the contrast He provided, the darkness against the light, and her fingers stroked his cheek affectionately as she was stripped of her clothes.

  Her skin was still pure, despite the act she’d committed with that werewolf, and she wanted Him to claim her again.