Battle for Blood Ch. 05byEliya©
Ashlyn barely felt the pain as her body repaired itself almost immediately. Her hands flew to his arm, trying to wrench it from her neck. She bared her fangs at him, hissing as the fur began to ripple across his body.
"Leave us," Raoul growled. Duke rose hastily, though he made a show of acting unfazed.
"Play nice," he said over his shoulder as he closed the door on his way out.
Raoul's eyes never left Ashlyn's as he squeezed her throat tighter and released, watching the read and purple bruises spread across her skin before disappearing as if they had never been.
"Are you sure you don't have wolf in you? You can be such a bitch to deal with," Raoul said, his mocking tone almost playful. Ashlyn wasn't fooled.
"You're too cocky for the king of the miserable race you claim as your own. Go fuck one of your bitches. Create more of the glorious downtrodden mongrels that you rule over."
Raoul laughed at her. "You'd miss me, dead woman. You can't stand the touch of your own kind so you come crawling to me, satisfied when your vampire curses at my touch. You're hotter than a bitch in heat." He shoved his hand between her legs, pushing his hand hard against her heated core. She couldn't hide her arousal; he could probably smell it. "That's what I thought. Even your dead pussy begs me for it."
Ashlyn brushed her fingers across her throat, trying to ignore the swell of excitement that radiated from his touch. "You're a pig." She glared up at him. His huge body loomed over her. The top of her curly hair barely reached his shoulders. He was the strongest of his kind, in the peek of his long life. She was nothing, a two decade old vampire who could barely cross a ray of sunlight without burning. He continued to stare down at her, hate and hunger gleaming in his yellow eyes.
She launched herself at him, bringing her small hands to his throat and using her strength to throw him back against the table. He landed hard, sending papers flying about. If the thing hadn't been metal and bolted to the floor it would have snapped below his weight. His huge fingers wrapped themselves in her hair, jerking her head towards him. She pushed harder on his windpipe, knowing she had only gotten him here because he had let her, as he brought their mouths together in a bruising kiss.
He tasted wild and warm. His tongue pushed into her mouth aggressively, claiming it again. She moaned into his mouth, tangling her tongue with his. She tasted his blood, tangy and sweet in her mouth. She had sliced his lip open with her fangs. She took a deep drink as his hand gripped her small waist, pulling her against his straining cock. The feel of his huge erection sent shivers down her spine. Their kiss grew deeper; she opened her mouth to accommodate his tongue and her sharp teeth. He released her hair and his other hand traveled down her body, feeling her curves possessively. His rough touch drove her arousal higher, she wanted him now.
Ashlyn sat up, straddling him on the table, grinding against his bulge. Raoul reached up and tore her shirt open revealing her large firm breasts in their lace bra. She let him slide the fabric form her shoulders before she pushed him back down. He growled deep in his throat as he began writhing over him, pushing herself against his cock through their jeans. She reached behind her with one hand, unhooking her bra and letting her breasts tumble free, flinging the garment into some forgotten corner of the room. Raoul sat up, wrapping a huge arm around her tiny body he pulled her into him, arching her back and bringing one of her nipples to his mouth. Her breast was full and firm, larger than they should have been, a trick of timing from her human life. Ashlyn moaned as he nipped at her breast, the sharp pain of his teeth against her soft flesh made her insides burn to be filled. His other hand cupped her other breast; his fingers found her nipple and pinched it hard, making her gasp. She twined her fingers in his hair and let her head fall back as he bent her over further, moving to her other breast and giving it the same attention. His bruising hold and the scraping of his teeth against her sensitive nipples had her thrashing against him, the friction of her bucking hips proving to be too much for wither of them.
In an instant Ashlyn found herself bent over the table, Raoul behind her, holding her down with one huge hand splayed across her back. She moaned and twisted, trying to get out from under him. She wanted to touch him, bite him, anything. The table dug into her as he pushed her down harder. She felt his hands swiftly undo her pants and pull them down. She managed to step out of one leg before they were forgotten at her ankle. She spread her legs without realizing what she was doing.
His hand slid up, gripping her neck and shoulders as he pressed his naked cock into her. She arched her back, raising her hips enticingly to him. She felt him slide the head of his cock up and down over her wet lips, nudging her clit. Ashlyn struggled harder to gain access, control, anything. She wanted to sink her teeth into him.
Raoul snarled behind her; he gave her no warning as he shoved his impressive length into her soaking pussy. His grip tightened on her neck as he pushed himself further into her, so far she felt like he would split her in two. Her hips bucked on their own accord, trying to set the rhythm but Raoul would not be persuaded. He slid slowly out of her, letting her feel his thick cock in her tight channel. She moaned deeply, trying to sink back with it to keep him from exiting her. She bit her lower lip, piercing it twice with her teeth. Just as he was about to pull all the way out he slammed back into her ferociously. Ashlyn cried out as his cock hammered her from behind, two small trickles of blood flowed over her chin from her lip before the cuts could heal.
"You like being fucked like a bitch don't you, vampire?" Raoul growled into her ear as he set his pace, crushing her beneath him. One hand gripped her hip as the other squeezed her throat making her lightheaded and tipsy with lust.
"Only as much as you love fucking me, dog." she gasped. With that, he doubled his pace, pulling her back against him with brutal force. She struggled again, trying to match his energy to no avail. He held her fast, pushing and pulling her body as he wished to despite her best efforts. She felt the twisting heat inside her growing, knowing she would not hold out much longer. She tried to fight it, make him come first but he knew her game. He wrapped his hand over her tiny neck, his palm pressing into her windpipe. He knew what she needed; the dangerous feeling of her throat closing spiked the excitement boiling inside her, bring her closer to the edge.
Ashlyn raised her hand to pry his fingers from her but all she could manage was a pathetic scratch across his forearm. The pounding never stopped, his thick cock working her into a frenzy. All at once she felt the pressure build too high. Her face felt numb and dizziness hit her hard. Her entire body convulsed with brutal pleasure, spiraling outwards from her core. Her pussy clamped down on his cock as she let out a shriek that echoed off the concrete walls of the chamber. She felt herself almost slip into blackness as her body shook around her.
Raoul wasn't done with her yet. He stopped, willing himself to hold out against the grip of her convulsing muscles. She panted with breath she did not need as he released her neck. Without pulling out he flipped her tiny body over, feeling her twist around him like a top. When she lay on her back he leaned over, his large hands crushing her breasts, pinching her large pink nipples. Her eyes were closed. He started moving inside her again, slowly now. She whimpered beneath him as he mauled her. He loved watching the damage he wrought on her body disappear, hearing her gasps of pain and pleasure all at once. He knew why she kept coming back to him. He was the only one who could get her off.
"Look at me," he growled. Her eyes opened, unfocused and glazed with her release. He began to pound her with renewed vigor. The look of pain, lust and hatred in her face drove him higher. Her eyes, light green lined with silver, glowed as her fangs descended further. She loved it, and the fact that he knew it to drove her mad. He smiled and brought his hand between them, rubbing her clit as he continued thrusting into her. "Come again for your wolf. Show me again how much you love this cock in your dead pussy." Ashlyn twisted beneath him, trying to shove off the growing pleasure inside her to no avail. Her legs wrapped around his thick waist, pulling him into her harder. Her back arched off the table as his hand worked her over and his cock drove her to another shocking release. Raoul grabbed her hips with both hands, pulling her onto him harder as his body tensed with his own climax. The tight grip of her muscles was too much for him and he came hard within her, spilling his seed against her silent womb.
The room filled with their heavy breathing. Ashlyn lay across the table, her pants still hanging from one ankle. Raoul let his cock slide out of her as their combined fluids dripped out of her. He pulled his pants up, surveying her prone body.
"Your dripping on my reports," he said dispassionately. Ashlyn jerked up, anger blazing in her eyes again. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. She struggled with her pants, which had gotten tangled during their activities. She found her shirt on the table and held it against her chest, casting a look around from her bra. Raoul picked it up from the dusty floor, dangling it from his finger.
"Give it to me," she snapped and swiped at it.
"Come and get it," he responded. Ashlyn hopped off the table and approached him warily. She reached out her hand towards her undergarment, unsure of his game. His other hand caught hers and he pulled her into his chest. She yelped and struggled against him. His other hand came below her chin and his thumb wiped the blood from her lips. He didn't release her as he licked the red smear from his finger.
"Raoul, get off—" she began before he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her solidly. In her surprise she didn't struggle but let him deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth slowly. Her naked breasts pressed against his hard chest, the wiry hair tickling her soft skin. His lips felt velvety against hers and his tongue danced against hers softly. She returned the kiss hesitantly, not understanding his gentle perusal. His knuckles stroked the side of her cheek so lightly she almost missed it. She could taste her own blood in his mouth as well as his own. When he broke the kiss she looked up at him, confused. She saw something she didn't quite understand in his eyes. He released her, sighing. He passed her bra to her.
"Get dressed and I'll show you around." With that, he turned his back to her and began to set the papers on the desk back in order. She stood their a moment, still caught off guard by his kiss. Her fingers touched her lips lightly, still feeling his mouth, warm and comforting against hers. What was that? When he glanced over his shoulder she glared at him and quickly dressed herself, buttoning up her shirt as best she could though some of the buttons had gone missing.
Raoul showed her around the compound. It seems that there was an entire network of underground bunkers from when this had been a weapons testing outpost in the 50s. They had converted much of it into living quarters for the large number of wolves who had gathered there. There were several training rooms and the pack ran drills outside. Raoul believed in being prepared. There was a strange mix of made and wild-wolves. The coming war had brought the two together, though it disrupted the pack dynamics. It seemed that most of them were cooperating with each other.
Werewolves were an odd mix. Unlike vampires, they could breed more of their own kind. While mating took place in human form, women spent the pregnancy as wolves. The offspring emerged as wolf pups, to change later on in life when they were capable. These wolves were called wild because of their tendency to remain more like animals than men or women. They learned to speak with human mouths at a very late stage, if at all. They did not use their human minds as much as their animal ones and they adhered strictly to the pack hierarchy.
Made wolves were those born human who were changed at some point during their lives. These wolves tended to remain in human form, liked to be clothed and shifted with greater difficulty. Wild wolves were stronger and faster and many could maintain a half way shift giving them the benefits of both their forms with few of their weaknesses. Made wolves were more intelligent in a human sense, able to use reason, language and logic as apposed to the instinct of the wild wolves.
Few wild wolves managed to develop the human side of themselves. Raoul was one of them, as were the crone and her granddaughter. They were something of the royalty amongst their kind, strong, fast, comfortable in both skins and very intelligent. Duke was a made wolf; even though he was powerful he would never be able to reach the level that Raoul had attained. Though werewolves lived for centuries, wild wolves hardly noticed the passing of the days unless they were taught to. The less they embraced their dual nature the shorter their lives. Made wolves who refused to shift lived little longer than regular humans. Many times, made wolves lived out their lives as humans, shifting only when the hunger grew too strong. Wild wolves shifted even less often, usually only to mate.
Raoul had introduced a rather radical routine in the compound. Made wolves were trained in wolf form for hours, taken out on runs and put through vigorous battle scenarios. Wild wolves, looking terribly uncomfortable, were taught to speak, read and think rationally in human form. Their ability to learn and adhere to battle plans as well as communicate with others would be indispensable in the coming war.
Ashlyn was impressed despite herself. When she had first come to Raoul twenty years before there had been none of this. His pack was big, drawn by his power, but it was primitive. He had gathered some of the strongest of his kind but had failed to raise up those who still struggled with their duality. Now it seems they would all be rising to the occasion.
He led her down yet another cramped dusty hallway to another training room. Ashlyn realized that she had no idea how to get back the way they came. With so many twists and turns, each hallway looking the same, she had no idea where they were. Raoul opened the heavy door and ushered her inside. They stood on a walkway that wrapped around the periphery of a large room. The large pit under their feet had once been a science lab, though all the equipment had been unceremoniously dumped against the far wall. Below them a group of made wolves were getting worked over by their instructor. The wolves would attack only to be thrown back by the man's lightening fast staff.
"They are learning," Raoul said, bracing his hands on the railing. Ashlyn stepped to the edge of the balcony, curling her fingers around the metal rail. They were impressive these wolves. They were faster and stronger than she would have expected. A few years ago they were nothing but cranky humans, unhappy that they would be forced to turn. She let her eyes wander over the room, taking in the new recruits. Someone shifted in the corner and she flinched at the grinding sound the bones made.
The teacher called the class to and end and the wolves began to move out of the room. Something caught her attention on the wall and she walked around the balcony, which bent with the curve of the room, to get a better look. She stopped when she could make out what someone had scrawled in big letters across the better part of the wall. Raoul had followed her. He stopped right behind her, not close enough to touch but she felt every inch of him.
"The Third Will Rise," she whispered under her breath.
"Thanks to you," Raoul whispered back. Ashlyn felt a chill go up her spine. She should have been happy, at least some grim satisfaction, instead she felt empty. Raoul placed his hands next to hers on the railing, closing his arms around her and pressing his chest against her back. The chill did not go away. Ashlyn wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hide the tremor that ran through her.
"You aren't having second thoughts are you?" he asked her below his breath next to her ear. Ashlyn stared at the words on the wall. No, she would not. She had come this far and she would see them all dead. She straightened, turning around to face him.
"I think it's time to show me the rest of the prophecy."
Cole was sick of meetings. The last three days had been nothing but conversations, arguments, piecemeal attempts at organization and squabbling. Today he sat at a round table with most of the council members as well as several members of the European delegation that was there to...well they were there. Landsman was trying to get the conversation back on track after an hour of insults, terrible suggestions, and more insults.
They had locked themselves up in an opulent meeting hall complete with an enormous oak table which stood directly in the center of the room. The edges were rounded so as to allow everyone involved to look the person they were insulting in the eye. Large leather seats were scattered along the edge of the room, presumably for onlookers or exhausted participants who could no longer take the high-back chairs that lined the table. The ceiling was just high enough so that if one spoke loud enough the sound would fill the room. Luckily the heavy curtains were absorbing at least some of the sounds of bickering.
Only some of the members of the council were still sitting at the table, some stood over it, René was pacing in a corner. Cole had taken his place away from the table, standing next to the window and considering throwing himself through the glass to get away from them all. He wanted to get back to Shane; he was tired of shoving down his anxious desire to return to her so that no one would guess she was alive.
"If you would just listen," Medea was complaining again. "We need to think logically. Evacuation is the only way."
"What part of 'global movement' is not penetrating your incredibly thick skull?" Janus snapped from his seat. He was also of Roman origin, though turned centuries after Cole. He had taken the name of the god of chaos to appear older than he actually was. Arrogant prick, his voice dripped with his self-perceived worth. "We have to deal with these creatures once and for all. We should have annihilated them centuries ago." Cole looked at the small, dark vampire and scoffed.
Everyone stopped and looked at him. He had been silent for most of the night's meetings and no one quite knew what to make of him. The last few days the oldest, and most unpredictable member of their kind, had exceeded all expectations and begun to take an active role in the current conflict. The older vampires who had so looked down on him for his immature antics in the past had begun deferring to him, sensing the power that he had within him. Cole had been as surprised as anyone with his decision to grow up, almost 1700 years after being turned. That did not stop him from quickly realizing he was surrounded by very old idiots. He gave them all a look.
"Oh no, don't mind me. Carry on. I'm sure you are all about to astonish us with some brilliant plan any moment now," Cole said, casting his gaze back out the window.
"Well, ancient one," Janus said with some distain. "What do you suggest?"
Cole caught the flash of headlights across the trees outside. Several cars had just pulled up. "I'm waiting for our guests to arrive, Janus," Cole said, exaggerating his name slightly. He felt the vampire flinch behind him. Cole bet his real name was Steve.