“Of course you are. So you’re to have my best guest room right by the flower garden where you can smell lovely scents all night long.”
Tante Corri led her through the small cottage to a back room. It was small but it had a soft, low bed covered in a blanket of little red flowers that Kate loved at once. In one corner of the room was a door that led out into a garden filled with so many different types of flowers she was amazed.
“Oh, these are gorgeous,” she exclaimed, examining the riot of color when the old woman threw open the door to show her. “And they smell so good.” A mixture of aromas, some delicate and some rich and heady was carried into the small room by a soft breeze.
“Ah yes, I love to watch them grow.” Tante Corii looked at the garden proudly. “Just you leave the door cracked a bit while you sleep and their scents will bring you sweet dreams. Don’t worry—it’s perfectly safe.”
“Is it? But what about all the males at the Howlund?” Kate looked towards the forest uncertainly.
“Never you mind about that, child. See these?” Tante Corii walked to the edge of the little garden and pointed to a border of tall purple flowers that looked a little bit like lilies. “These are purple gloved staybacks. A male in his Beast form can’t stand the scent of them.”
“Even when the moons, uh, converge?” Kate shivered and looked up at the two silvery disks in the sky. As the sunlight faded, they were becoming clearer and obviously coming closer together. She wondered if all the males at the Howlund would change at the same time once the moons overlapped or if they were already mindless Beasts.
Rone’s aunt laughed. “Yes, child, even at the convergence when all males with Beasts within must turn, whether they want to or no. The purple gloved staybacks will keep you safe as long as you stay within the borders of the garden.”
Kate smiled. “I’m staying right here—I promise. I just want to snuggle down under that gorgeous blanket and get some sleep. Is it really made of living flowers?”
“That it is, my child.” Tante Corii smiled rather sadly. “You admired it the first time you came to meet me, too. And you wanted me to teach you the technique to grow your own living blanket.”
“Maybe this time you really can teach me,” Kate said, smiling back. “I would love to learn.”
“We’ll talk about it on the morrow,” Tante Corii promised. “For now, I’ll leave a glow on for you.” She pointed to a small lamp on a low table by the bed. “You can just blow it out when you’re ready to sleep. Oh—and before I forget—I put your favorite petal gown in the fresher for you.” She nodded at a small doorway in the corner of the room. But instead of a door, it had a long curtain which appeared to be made of flowering vines. “You always told me wearing it when you sleep under the living blanket gives you the best dreams.”
“I did?” Kate shrugged. “Okay, that sounds really nice. Thank you so much, Tante Corii.”
“You’re welcome, child. Now do try and get some sleep.”
“I will,” Kate promised and smiled as the old lady let herself out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-three
As soon as she had the room to herself, Kate went into the small fresher and examined the “petal gown” that Tante Corii had left out for her. It did indeed appear to be a long, flowing nightgown made entirely out of green and white flower petals. The color started off white and light at the shoulders and then gradually darkened to a deep emerald green at the hem, which swirled around her ankles when she put it on.
“Oh my God, this is gorgeous,” Kate murmured looking down at herself appreciatively. The petal gown had a high back and a low—a very low—front which scooped down to show the tops of her breasts in a way that was sensual without being slutty. The bodice of the gown fit nicely too—molding itself to her curves in a flattering way that made her feel like some kind of nymph or dryad. Maybe a flower spirit, wandering barefoot through the moonlit garden at night…
Kate stepped out of the bathroom—or fresher—and gazed through the open door that led to the garden. The hem seemed to float, lighter than air, around her ankles and she found herself looking longingly at the flowers under the light of G’nera’s full moons. The multicolored blooms were painted in silver and shadows and a soft breeze brought their rich, heady scents to her nose.
It was such a beautiful scene and, in the lovely petal gown, she felt like she was part of it. The cool, waxy petals slipped over her bare skin sensuously, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. It was like wearing living silk—like being a flower herself.
I should be in the garden, she thought and the conviction felt very real and certain in her head. I should be out among the flowers… I should—
A long, guttural cry that was almost a howl cut the silence. Kate, who was already halfway out the door and into the garden, stiffened suddenly. What was she doing? And why had she suddenly felt such a strong urge to go outside?
Danger, whispered the Knowing in her head. Be careful, Kate—something here isn’t right.
Stepping back, Kate quickly shut the door. She didn’t know what was going on but she refused to take any chances. Going quickly back to the bed, she got under the living quilt of small red flowers and snuggled down, trying to get comfortable and get rid of the uneasy feeling that was creeping up her spine. But as she turned on her side, something hard poked her in the back.
“Ouch!” Kate reached under the cover to find what it was and drew out the blue leather-bound Volume of Submission that Tante Corii had given her. She frowned. That was strange—she could have sworn she’d left it lying on the kitchen table.
Curiously, she flipped to the front page. The title of the book was written in an alien script she had never seen before. But thanks to the translation bacteria in her bloodstream, she was able to read it easily.
“The Volume of Submission,” Kate read aloud to herself. “Being the way in which to seduce and submit to the Beast in order to tame it for the safety and benefit of she who wishes such a thing.”
Hmm…interesting.
She flipped the page and was at once greeted with a picture of a girl with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. The girl was wearing a gown that looked almost exactly like Kate’s own, except it was made with white and blue petals instead of white and green. “The gown of petals is traditional garb and will aid in intensifying the scent of she who wishes to tame the Beast,” read the caption.
“Huh.” Kate looked down at her own gown suspiciously. Was there more to this gown than she’d thought? Had Tante Corii, who clearly believed that Kate should be allowed to tame Rone’s Beast, been giving a not-so-subtle hint when she gave Kate the petal gown as a present?
She turned the page and found an illustration of a tall, muscular man. He was standing naked in a moonlit glade and his eyes were pure silver so deep that even the pupils were no longer black—they had been swallowed by the other color, giving him a mindless, bestial expression. His chest and arms were covered in a dense mat of hair almost more like fur, and the hair on his head was shaggy and wild.
“The male as a Beast,” Kate read, looking at the caption. “Though he is most fearsome, it should be noted that a male in fur-form used to be considerably more terrifying.”
The next page showed a huge, furry animal that looked like a cross between a bear and a wolf. It had staring silver eyes and a slavering mouth filled with long, sharp teeth that made Kate shiver. So that was what the Wulvens’ Beast had looked like before the Kindred had come to interbreed with them! Thank goodness she didn’t have to worry about Rone turning into something like that.
Not that it matters what he turns into. It’s not like I’m going to see him, she told herself. But she still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach when she turned the page.
This illustration showed the girl in the petal gown stepping into the moonlit glade to meet the male with silver eyes. She held her hands at her sides, palms up in a non-threatening manner. Her head was lo
wered submissively, looking down at her bare feet and the carpet of grass she was standing on.
“She who would tame the Beast must not look into his eyes—for that is a sign of aggression,” read the caption. “Only stand quietly and allow the Beast to approach.”
So just stand there and wait to be taken?
Fascinated, Kate flipped to the next page and saw the Beast sniffing the girl. He had his face pressed to the vulnerable column of her throat and the artist had done an excellent job of showing a look of mingled fear and longing on her face.
“She who would tame him must allow the Beast to smell of her scent and must submit to all he wishes to do to her,” read the caption.
Kate read it and then studied the girl’s face some more. She doesn’t know if he’s going to breed her or rip out her throat. How awful!
But also, how intriguing! Unable to stop now, she flipped to the next page and saw that the Beast had apparently decided not to kill the girl—at least, not yet. In this picture, she had pulled down the front of her flower petal dress and was offering her breasts. They looked full and almost luminous in the moonlight, capped with berry-dark nipples. But Kate could only see one, for the other was hidden from view as the Beast crushed the girl to him and sucked the tender peak deep into his mouth.
“The Beast will suckle at the breasts of she who would tame it. This must be allowed without complaint,” read the caption.
Kate shifted on the bed, pressing her thighs together under the red flower coverlet. She could imagine doing that with Rone…pulling down the front of her gown and offering him her breasts…
Stop it, she told herself uneasily. It’s not like you’d have to do that—Rone doesn’t want that. But still, the girl’s abject submission sent a little shiver through her, though she didn’t know why.
Still thoroughly intrigued, Kate kept flipping pages. The next showed the girl naked with the gown around her feet. Clearly she had stepped out of it voluntarily to give easier access. The page after that showed her lying on her back with her knees bent and her legs spread. The Beast was kneeling between her thighs and Kate saw that his long, red tongue was lapping at the girl’s open pussy.
“The Beast will taste of she who would tame it,” Kate half whispered as she read to herself. “And this she must allow with no complaint. If her flavor is agreeable to him, then he may proceed to breed her if she shows the proper form of submission.”
Kate flipped the page and bit her lip. In this picture, the girl with long dark hair was on her knees before the Beast, eagerly licking the long, hard shaft that rose from between his muscular thighs. Was this the “proper form of submission?” Once again, she couldn’t help imagining herself doing this to Rone. She loved the hot, spicy scent of his skin—she could well imagine licking and sucking him.
“She who would have the Beast breed her must offer the sacrifice of pleasure and taste of his seed before she may feel it spurting within her womb,” read the words under the picture.
“Geeze,” Kate muttered to herself. “It’s like porn.” Porn that was making her extremely hot. She squeezed her thighs together again under the red flower quilt. God, maybe it was time to stop looking at this book!
But somehow she couldn’t put it down. Instead, she turned the page and saw a picture of the girl, now on her hands and knees. Or rather, her hands and forearms. Her thighs were spread wide and her pussy was fully on display. The Beast was behind her, also on his knees. There was a hungry look in his solid silver eyes and he was thrusting his long, thick shaft deep into the dark-haired girl’s vulnerable pussy.
“She who would tame the Beast must offer herself for penetration without complaint or reservation,” Kate read, her own voice sounding hoarse in her ears. “She must take his shaft and his seed deep within herself many times in order to tame him and bind him to her.”
Kate looked at the book, her pulse racing. She couldn’t imagine a more abject scene of domination and submission. Kneeling naked in the cool grass and waiting for a man you loved—a man who had become a mindless Beast—to fill you and fuck you. Opening yourself to him, knowing he would ride you hard and fast, over and over again until the animal lust that controlled him was finally satiated…
“Stop it!” she told herself aloud. “Stop thinking about it—it’s not going to happen! Rone doesn’t want it to happen!” And it wasn’t like she did either…did she?
Of course I don’t want it to happen—don’t want to let Rone’s Beast do that to me, Kate told herself sternly.
She shut the ancient book decisively and put it on the table beside the bed. Then she blew out the small, flickering glow-flame in the lamp and cuddled under the red flower quilt.
I won’t think of it, she told herself firmly. I won’t!
But somehow when she closed her eyes, the vivid illustrations from the Volume of Submission kept flashing in front of her eyes. Only in the pictures she saw, the girl’s hair was red instead of black and the Beast wore Rone’s face.
It took forever to get to sleep and when she finally did, Kate had such strange dreams…
* * * * *
“Now then, she’s finally asleep, so she is,” whispered the old hag. She was standing at the edge of the forest with Y, who was watching the back of the cottage, outlined in the brilliant moonlight.
“How can you tell?” he asked in a low voice.
“I can sense her, right enough—so I can,” was the reply. “She’s got a power inside, has that one. Grandy See-er will have to be especial careful of her, so she will.”
“I don’t care about her power,” Master Two snarled restlessly in Y’s head. “Tell the old hag to get on with it! We have to get her into the Howlund where that Wulven mate of hers is waiting.”
“How long will it take to get her to her mate?” Y asked the old woman. “My master wishes to have her there soon.”
“Don’t fear about that—Grandy See-er will get her there right enough—if your gold is good.”
Y handed her a bag of coins that made a muffled clinking sound. Grandy See-er opened it and cackled at the dull shine of precious metal in the moonlight.
“All right. I don’t know why your master wishes the little mistress to tame her mate’s Beast—is it just he wants to see some fucking? For that could be managed more easily and for less gold than this. Not that I’m giving it back.” Quickly, she stuffed the sack into her voluminous bosom.
“That is none of your business,” Y said stiffly. Honestly, he still didn’t know himself why Master Two wanted this. He’d said it was to send a message to the Kindred, to let them know that they couldn’t hurt or stop him.
To Y, it seemed needlessly convoluted. Why not just kill both the female and her male and send the Kindred High Council their bodies instead making them breed? But no, that would have been too easy for his Master. He had declared that because the Wulven Kindred didn’t want to hurt his mate, that was exactly what he must do. But it still seemed silly to Y who thought—
“Y, are you having negative thoughts about our plan?” Master Two’s sharp voice interrupted his inner monolog.
“No, Master—of course not,” Y sub-vocalized quickly, speaking under his breath so that the old witch could not hear him.
“I certainly hope not.” The Master’s voice was still sharp and suspicious. “You know how I feel about negativity.”
“Yes, Master—I know.” Reflexively, Y’s hand went to the lump under his left ear where his Master’s personality chip was implanted. Ever since they had made the trip to the home world of the Scourge and the Master had gained some new powers, the lump had been changing. There were curving, raised lines spiraling out from it now. Some seemed to be reaching for his spinal cord…and some were traveling towards his brain.
Y wondered what might happen if the lines reached their intended destinations. Would he become paralyzed, a puppet able to obey only the Master’s will? Would he even be able to think for himself and if he did, would the Master hear every t
hought? A spasm of fear passed through him but he did his best to hide it. He couldn’t consider that now—not when the Master’s attention was focused on him. He must focus on something else…
“If you’re done muttering to yourself, I’ve got her out into the garden, so I have,” Grandy See-er said, interrupting Y’s frantic thoughts.
“Good,” Y said, trying to make his voice strong. At least Master Two’s other form—that of the gigantic warrior which he had grown in the tanks on the Scourge home world—wasn’t here. It had stayed back on the Scourge home base, attending to some business the Master wanted seen to. He can only do so much to me as a voice in my head, Y comforted himself. And I can still keep my thoughts to myself—at least for now.
“Well?” the old crone demanded. “What are you wanting to do now? Should Grandy-See-er direct her somewhere?”
“Send her away,” Master Two commanded. “I have the situation well in hand—my new powers should allow me to direct the girl now that she is in a sleep trance.”
“My master is well able to manage himself, now that you have her in a trance,” Y told the old woman. “He has gained powers much like your own since the last time we met with you.”
The old crone sniffed disdainfully. “I didn’t see him working the trance himself. As a matter of fact, I don’t see him at all. How can he do anything to the girl if he’s not here?”
“Oh, he’s here all right,” Y said grimly. “Now be off, witch—you have your pay and we must be about our business.”
“Fine.” Grandy See-er sniffed again. “Have it your way if you’re so high and mighty.” She stumped off into the underbrush and Y hoped his master really was going to be able to manage with his new mental powers. Otherwise he would be in a towering rage with no one but Y to take his anger out on.
“Now what will we do, Master?” he asked, looking across to where the girl with long, curly red hair stood motionless in the garden, her eyes open but unseeing.
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