by Sunny
"Not yet, but soon."
I laughed hoarsely. "Yeah, at this rate, probably real soon. Just… not today."
"I have already given you my word."
"I just wanted to be clear. No matter how my body, uh —"
"Responds… and how sweetly it does." His head lowered down until he was poised right over the most secret part of me — shaved, no longer hidden — lying glisteningly wet, open and exposed to him. The thought of him looking at me down there was enough to tighten all the muscles of my body.
He blew a soft, deliberate breath over me. There where I was so freshly bared and so incredibly sensitive. I moaned, I couldn't help it. I moaned at the feel of that delicious puff of air ruffling over my heightened nerve endings. The sight of his massive head with his two thick horns poised between my legs — talk about phallic symbolism — brought forth another gush of arousal. Welled up another moan side me.
No! Don't move. Don't make a sound, I told myself as my body clenched, both inside and out. I tried, I honestly did. But when he blew again, a second deliberate puff of air that riffled like a thousand fluttery fingers across my skin there where all my nerves seemed to have swollen up and gathered, my body no longer listened to me, was no longer in my control.
I came in a brilliant, shocking, shuddering climax, twitching helplessly. He blew again, a third hard jet of air against the most sensitive part of me. moving the current of air over me like a stroking tongue, milking out the orgasm, drawing it out longer, playing me with merciless expertise. Cries spilled from my throat as pleasure — God, such pleasure! — wracked my body.
When he finally raised his head, lifted that incredibly stirring breath away from me, I felt like a puppet sagging limply on its loosened strings.
Oh my God!
I must have said it out loud because he smiled. With the musky scent of my release perfuming the air, with his skin stretched so taut over the broad planes of his face… those dangerous phallic-shaped horns, the rawly sexual look in those black eyes fixed so fiercely, possessively on me, he looked thrillingly, primitively, dangerously male.
"Imagine if I had actually touched you… licked you… sucked you."
His words and the provocative images they invoked rolled a second small orgasm through me — like the slap of a tiny wave that catches you unaware after the big wave had passed by you, and you thought yourself safe.
I gasped, shuddered, writhed beneath him, a guttural moan spilling out from me. "Mercy," I cried hoarsely. "No more."
He smiled, stretching his lips wide, making me suddenly want to taste them… to taste him. I sat up and he started to draw away. My hands grabbed him, stopped him. He was no longer smiling. Slowly I brought my face closer to his until my lips almost touched those wide mobile lips. My tongue flicked out and I licked him, tasted him, made a pleased sound. Another lick, another taste, and then another until I had traveled from one corner of his mouth to the other, leaving my wetness, my own taste, behind.
I pulled back to watch his own tongue emerge, lick his lips, sample the flavor of me.
"Thank you," I said in a husky voice. "That was unexpectedly lovely, both the pleasure and the keeping of your word."
He stared at me for a long moment and stood back up, the cushions shifting under the withdrawal of his weight. I stood as well, and found my legs thankfully up to the task of keeping me upright.
A dark gray hand picked up the little scrap of cloth that was my dress and offered it to me. I took it and found that dressing was almost as easy as undressing. Lift the cloth over my head, drop it down over my body, and like that I was covered once more, outwardly clothed, excruciatingly naked underneath. A little bit like how I felt toward him now.
There was still the remembered fear, the memory of violence and pain that I had suffered under his careless hand. But now coating that like a soothing balm was this new memory, this new knowledge — of his tenderness, his restraint, of our intimacy. Of his word given and kept. Of his breath, just his breath, wringing such pleasure from my body. Of my tongue licking over his lips, tasting him. And of him tasting me in turn. The baring of skin and flesh — it was an intimate act that drew you closer to the male you made yourself vulnerable to, if he treats you with care. And he had.
"Come." He held out his hand and I took it, and the gesture and my ready response pleased us both. The impressive cockstand that tented his pants was a little hard to ignore. But if he could do so, then so could I. I wasn't quite ready yet to offer him ease.
He opened the doors much sooner than the guards standing outside anticipated, I think. There was a brief look of surprise before their expressions smoothed out and they came sharply to attention.
"I shall walk her back to the women's quarters," Gordane informed them, a statement that flashed another brief look of surprise across their faces. Apparently not something he did for the other women.
"I wish to see you again tomorrow," Gordane said as he led me down the wide hallway. And even though he said it forcefully, like a statement, I sensed the question in his words. Just a short time together, and already I seemed able to read him more easily.
Would I be ready to return some of that pleasure tomorrow? I wasn't entirely sure but… "Yes," I answered. The visit — and its orgasmic aftermath — was utterly different from how I had imagined it would end. I certainly hadn't thought I'd be walking back holding hands with him.
To distract myself, and because I was curious, I asked, "Why are things so messy here in the palace?"
"Messy?"
"Dirty, dusty. Neglected looking."
Gordane gazed around him as if he was only just now seeing the heavy dust coating the furniture, the bits of dirt and debris building up in the corners. He frowned, and the expression was no longer as frightening as it used to be. "The palace steward foolishly stole from me. I hadn't gotten around to replacing him yet."
"How long ago was this?"
"A hand span of days. Perhaps two."
"It looks much longer than that."
"Perhaps it is. I do not keep track much of time."
"What happened to the stealing steward?"
"His punishment was the same as all who betray me. The arena."
"More merciful than I would have expected from you."
"Merciful? In what way?"
"I thought you would have killed him, so to speak. Ended his existence instead of just punishing him."
"I did."
His answer made me stop. "What?"
"You look suddenly pale. Are you not feeling well?"
My fingers tightened around his much bigger hand. "Miles… you sent him to his death?"
Gordane's brows drew together. "Yes, I thought you knew. Was aware of what the arena meant."
"No. I thought it was just a punishment, not his final death. My God…" My voice trailed off as I remembered again that last frantic look Miles had given me, as if he'd never see me again. He'd known. Dear Goddess, he had known, and thought I had, too. That I had stood quietly by and let him be led to his death — again.
Within me, Mona Louisa whispered, Am I to be the death of him always?
You didn't seem to regret his first death, I answered.
I did not. But I do now. You have changed me. I would not willingly be the cause of his death again.
"You can't kill him," I said urgently to Gordane.
He looked down at me, his ebon eyes dark and enigmatic. "I thought he was your enemy."
"He was… he is. But Mona Louisa… she cares for him. And he was trying to help me. To help her, really, but also me. Please. You must save him if you can."
"It may already be too late. The werebeasts may have already torn him apart."
"You have to try to stop it."
He came to a swift decision. "I will take you back to the women's quarters, then go."
"No time! Take me with you."
A brief hesitation and then he turned and started running back in the direction we had come from. My han
d wrapped tight in his, we veered around a couple of turns and came to the grand entryway with all those odd statues. He swung open one of the heavy doors with an easy pull, and we charged past the startled guards outside.
"Hold onto me tightly," Gordane said as his wings unfurled and lifted us into the air. We soared up thirty feet… fifty… with two strong flaps of those powerful wings. The force with which we cut through the air brought tears to my eyes. I hung onto Gordane as he had commanded. Plastered myself to that strong body, and felt his big arms wrapped tightly around me. And I marveled at the strength of those wings, able to take our combined weight so easily airborne like that. Marveled that such a huge span, more than twice my height, could fold up so perfectly flat onto his back so that it was neatly hidden and almost forgotten until he spread it open once more.
The speed and power of our flight buoyed up my hope, until a crowd's roar came floating up on the winds to me. I peered down and felt dizzy at how high up we were. I saw the arena down below us, the vast amount of people filling its seats. In the center pit was Miles, injured, his left leg torn and bleeding. He was armed with a sword and shield, but grossly outnumbered, surrounded by a dozen creatures… just like the statues in the entryway! Only these were not frozen stone figures. These were flesh and blood, moving, bleeding, savagely attacking!
Werebeasts, Gordane had called them. Mutant monstrosities would have been more apropos. There were freakish half-man, half-animal forms. Also mixed animal-animal forms, like the lizard-snake thing I had encountered in the desert, only worse, much worse. A few looked as if the heads of wolves had been ripped off intact and planted on top of human bodies. There were even more disturbing hybrids, everything from buffaloes and lions to snake heads. Even more nauseating was the reverse combination — human heads atop animal bodies.
We flew over the nightmarish creatures in a dark swoop of wings, drawing attention so that all eyes were lifted to the sky. In a sharp descent, Gordane flew down into the stadium crowd and dropped me into the surprised hands of some of his guards.
"Keep her safe," he ordered, and flew off to the center of the arena. He swooped down toward Miles, but Miles was either unnerved by the gargoyle's approach — and honestly, who wouldn't be, seeing a huge horned creature bearing down on you — or he mistrusted Gordane's intent. Whatever the reason, he raised his shield, blocking Gordane's grab for him.
"No!" I cried. "He's trying to help you, Miles." But my words were lost in the excited shouts of the spectators. Another roar of sound as the werebeasts sprang at Miles, attacking him desperately from all sides, as if they sensed the imminent loss of their prey. His sword slashed in a circle, cutting open several werebeasts, but the rhino werebeast — a rhino head atop a horse's body — charged from behind and caught him up on his horn. The sharp tip emerged out the front of him. Blood burst out, and I screamed, the sound lost amidst the frenzied shouts that rose from the crowd. Miles somehow heard me. His head turned in my direction, his eyes searching, finding me. Our eyes were locked together for one brief instant, then the contact broke as the rhino-beast tossed Miles off his horn. He went airborne — ten feet up in the air, falling back down. Gordane turned in mid-flight, sharply changing direction, but he was too far away to catch him. Miles fell and hit the ground in a bloody crumple, and only Gordane swooping down to hover over him like a giant winged bat kept the other werebeasts from pouncing on him.
The gargoyle had no weapon, nothing more threatening than his spread hands. But that seemed to be enough to keep the werebeasts back, as if they sensed something about Gordane that I couldn't see. And they were not the only ones afraid of him. Miles had somehow managed to hang onto his sword and shield. He raised both weakly now against Gordane, as if the greatest threat to him was from the hovering gargoyle above instead of the gnashing, howling werebeasts circling him. He seemed to fear Gordane even more than the grotesqueries waiting to tear him apart. Looking at Gordane, the powerful intimidating bulk of him, I wasn't surprised that he inspired fear. I was surprised, though, that he inspired more fear than the rabid werebeasts. It was obvious that Miles wasn't going to let Gordane touch him, just as it was obvious that Gordane would not be able to hold them all back for much longer.
Save him, Mona Louisa urged within me.
How?
Fly to him.
Her words didn't make sense. My other form was a Bengal tiger. I can't fly, I told her.
But I can.
Mona Louisa was a vulture in her alternate form. Since pulling her essence into me, I had often dreamed of flying in my sleep — her dreams, her remembered thoughts. She wanted me to shift into her vulture form. Something I didn't know if I could do or even wanted to do. If we ventured into the arena, and one of those werebeasts got a hold of us…
She tried to shift. I resisted her.
Do this for me, and I will be in your debt, she urged me.
I was surprised, shocked actually, that she cared enough to risk both of us to save Miles when once she had sacrificed him so easily to the Council.
You wouldn't have tried to do this before. To try to save him.
No. Nor would you have hesitated before. We have bled parts of ourselves into each other. I absorbed some of your love and caring for your men, your people. You now have some of my callousness. You show caution where you once would have charged forward without hesitation.
If she was trying to shame me, it wasn't working. You forget that the guy you're asking me to risk my life for once tried to rape me.
Grant me this and I promise you that I will repay you this debt. Please, she begged with a humbleness that I would have said was not possible for her. Not for the Ice Queen.
I stopped resisting. Okay, I told her. Go ahead. Shift.
She did. No hesitation. I felt her push out of my body like a snake shedding an old skin, and emerging with a new one. Maybe it was knowing and understanding what she was doing and not being panicked by it. Whatever the reason, the change occurred easily. Or should I say, the half-change.
I felt my upper body shift, my height shrinking as my spine shortened. My mouth and nose curved into a hooked beak as wings pushed out my back, stretching the straps of the dress out to the side but thankfully not breaking them. Feathers emerged and covered my upper body. The lower part of me, though, didn't change: two legs, I saw, looking down. Shifting my gaze higher, I saw a clear demarcation. Above the waist, I had the feathers and body of a large bird, a vulture. Below the waist, I was still human. With dawning horror, I realized that I had shifted… and become just like those mutant werebeasts! I screamed, and a vulture's raucous cry came out of my parted beak. With a powerful flap of wings, I launched myself up into the air, leaving my stunned guards, and soared skyward, my human legs dangling, flying to where Mona Louisa's heart urged us even amidst my panic.
We're like them, the werebeasts! I screamed inside.
We're not like them. We're still sane. They're not. Keep sharp. We're going in.
Another raucous shriek alerted Miles to our coming. He looked up and he saw us. Gordane, too. On Miles's face was a look of recognition and relief. Of welcome. He pushed himself weakly to his feet, his shield still raised against Gordane, but he left himself open to me as I swooped down, his body turned to me, his sword holding back the werebeasts. Gordane moved back, giving me room to come in. Only as I made the swooping dive did I realize I had a problem.
How in bloody tarnation was I going to grab Miles and carry him away? I didn't have hands anymore, just wings, and human feet, which just weren't that good for grabbing things.
Miles would have to grab onto me and do his best to hold on.
He is too weak, Mona Louisa said. He can barely hold up his sword. Shift into your tiger's feet. Do a partial change.
I don't know how to do a partial change, I said wildly.
What state do you think we are in now? The lower half of your body remains in your control, not mine. Shift! Shift now.
I tried, because I couldn't
think of any other option. Miles was less than twenty feet away. I pictured it in my mind, a partial change, feet only, and a burning, prickling sensation started in my toes and swept swiftly up my feet. I looked down and watched with a kind of fascinated horror as I shed human feet and began sprouting orange and white fur up to my ankles. Watched as my feet morphed into hairy tiger's paws. Watched as long, wicked black claws sprang out from each toe point.
I flew in with speed, with dexterity — remembered instincts coming back naturally. Instincts that were not from me but from her. I reached down with my tiger claws, flying in on my vulture wings, as if I had done this a thousand times before, and deftly snatched up my prey. I felt my sharp claws sink deep into flesh with almost melting ease. A sudden forceful jerk as I came up against his unmoving weight, met it and overcame it.
With a straining flap of wings, I heaved him up off the ground and into the air.
Two werebeasts leaped up after us, their foam-flecked teeth zeroing in on Miles's dangling legs. Gordane swatted them away from us with two quick blows. The other werebeasts howled, seeing their food escaping them. In mindless hunger, they turned on each other with tearing teeth.
I glanced back once. Saw Gordane following us, his winged presence blocking most of the carnage down below from sight. He risked himself for me, I thought, that part of me that was still me and not the vulture — not her.
As we flew over the high walls of the arena and landed on the other side, soldiers came pouring out, now when we had no need of them. But who could blame them for not venturing into the bloody arena pit? Hearing the terrible squeals and shrieks coming from the other side of the wall, I wondered how I had dared fly down so close to those frightening mutants. Then again, who was I to be talking when I looked just like them! Maybe even worse.
My tiger claws retracted as I dropped Miles lightly onto the ground and landed with spread wings that folded in to lie neatly against my vulture back. Such a nifty invention, wings. With a mental willing, or rather a thought more like Okay, enough of this bizarre bird form, I shifted back. Feathers melted, reshaped into skin. My spine lengthened. Furry paws morphed back into feet. Wings transformed into arms and hands. Everything went like clockwork. Only Mona Louisa emerged, not I.