Clans of Luteri Ch. 10-11

But far worse was what came next, yells and then screams, screams of agony, the screaming going on and on until she thought she would go mad, and over that the huge sound, louder than was possible, of snarling and teeth snapping and then a tearing that wasn't cloth. She gagged.

The Alverian lord was being savaged by an animal, a large animal—huge, it was huge—had attacked him and was tearing him apart while he was still alive and that would have been a good thing, something she would want, something for which she should be grateful, but she could hear his bones cracking now and he was still alive.

He was begging, his voice wheedling and interspersed with sobs, and then he was crying and then he screamed like she had never imagined. It was the sound of someone dying badly and worse than that, she was bound here. She would die, the beast would kill the man and then come and do the same with her, naked and defenseless, no way to run, nothing to do but dangle for it, not even able to see it. She panted with terror.

The Alverian lord's scream stopped abruptly but the ripping sounds, the wet sounds, the thuds, didn't. Then there was silence, the profound relief of the silence. But then it became a silence in which something moved. She tried to twist her head to look behind her but she couldn't see. She didn't know how long she was there, listening, straining her ears, her heart, her heart was going so fast, too hard.

Maybe her heart would give out, merciful. Maybe the animal would be satisfied and then she would simply be trapped here and starve to death, die of thirst and starve and go mad tied up in this place where Kane would never find her. Kane would look for her but he wouldn't know where, she was in a cave, in a nowhere place.

Her throat gave a strangled sound, a sob, and she whispered to herself to be quiet. She tried to be quiet. She still hoped for it to leave her here to die, hoped for that so much, because the alternative—.

Her head came up sharply and she stifled a whimper. She heard a sound behind her, still faint, like claws on stone far behind her at the mouth of the cave. Her whole body went rigid. She heard it again, it was in the cave, in the cave with her, in the cave. She struggled against the bonds desperately, trying to be quiet, but it didn't matter. She couldn't get free and she was going to die this way, die horribly.

There was another sound of claws on stone, closer. Something walked on all fours behind her. She froze, breathing so fast, her mind full of images of teeth, closing her eyes tightly and waiting. Please don't see her, please don't smell her, please go away, go away, with each pound of her heart, go away.

Something warm and moist touched her leg and she shrieked involuntarily, feeling the pass of hot breath on her back directly after. Her whole body was shaking hard and she sobbed. Her heart felt like it would come out of her chest. The warmth came again, hot air on her inner thigh now and then higher, and then an exhale of warm steamy breath between her legs, on her spread sex. She heard a chuffing sound, felt the puffs of air.

It was sniffing delicately between her legs and it gave a grumbling low growl that made her cry out again, the sound so deep and crackling loud the cave echoed with it. She felt it return, more bursts of air as it scented her.

Impossibly, a feeling went through her lower belly, tension, and she arched, spreading more like an involuntary offer, thrusting her sex out for it, feeling madness tint her vision, all coherent thought scattering like a dropped bag of marbles on a hard floor, she didn't want to die, please. She sucked in breath past her closed throat and keened in terror.

She heard a sound that turned her bones to liquid. She couldn't scream, couldn't move, the sound of huge jaws opening, teeth, those were teeth clicking together. She did scream when something warm and rough touched her thigh, a high and strong sound of despair and fear that echoed.

The roughness ran up and between her legs and slowly drew up the length of her sex, past her entrance and to her bottom. Her eyes rolled back in her head, the scream dying in her throat into a long exhale of breath as all of her attention went to that place and the sensations—no—oh yes, the sensations rising there. She didn't understand how she could feel that way but she did, very much.

It happened again and this time she pulsed against it, feeling her sex swelling quickly, opening like a flower, all of her suddenly awake between her legs, feeling her heartbeat there. She didn't know what to do except experience it. She strained, anticipating the rough contact, trying to meet it, so sensitive. When it came she arched to the limit she could, trying to get even closer.

She felt that deep aching twinge that said she was getting wet. She had gone crazy and it was such a relief because she didn't want to feel being eaten alive.

The creature behind her made a soft sound, still echoing loud, a satisfied rattling rumble that wiped out all her thought as the roughness returned and went into her, scraping her entrance, penetrating her. It felt so good. She was pressing against it as it licked into her, thrusting her hips as it withdrew, the roughness dragging, shock after shock.

She wasn't making any sound now, twitching and straining with every pass, her eyes half closed, her lips parted, seeing nothing. The realization came at the same time, that's what it was, it was the creature's tongue and she cried out in fear and then louder in sharp pleasure as she began to come, losing all control, waves of it washing over her, so good.

It gave another pleased rattling growl as she thrust her sex against the roughness behind her over and over, rubbing herself on it uncontrollably as she spasmed and came so hard, harder than she ever had, slick dripping down her inner thigh that the beast caught on his tongue and licked straight up to its source, more sounds of its jaws and teeth grinding, as if it was savoring the taste of her.

Nails clicked on stone as it withdrew. She was hanging, her head hanging, her heart pounding, her hips quivering. There was silence again. She heard a popping noise, meaty. There were more sounds like it and heavy breathing, a grunt of pain, deep panting. She believed now she had lost her reason, that she was in a dream, a nightmare, she'd been drugged or she was dead already.

When she felt a touch she tried to escape the bonds, needing to fight it, sobbing, twisting and pulling with everything she had, feeling like a bird fluttering against a window. She didn't plan it, couldn't help it, struggling instinctively, an explosion of movement.

She finally hung, exhausted.

She closed her eyes when she felt claws on her back, trailing there, sharp, and she waited with frozen anticipation for the pain to begin, waiting for them to dig in and shred the meat of her. They drew down her back and over her bottom, the feel of them...arousing, so strange, drawing pleasure from her she didn't understand, didn't want to.

She couldn't even tell if she were cut, there wasn't any pain but there wasn't always pain right away when you cut yourself, not if it were sharp. She began to cry helplessly, long soundless sobs, drawing her breath in for a long time for the next set of them.

A claw came around and touched her throat. She froze, her sob catching in her throat. She moved so slowly, trying to withdraw, extending her neck, whimpering as it dragged lightly down and over her right breast. She was staring at it in horror, not daring to move, not daring to breath. She couldn't look away, what was it, it was human and it was not and what kind of animal looked like that, and the part of her mind that wanted to know answers closed and she didn't question anymore.

The claw scraped her nipple, a sharp bite, and down her belly, and everywhere the claws touched began to radiate hot pleasure.

Then the beast was against her back, hot and hard, pressing on all of her. Its claws dragged between her legs, sharpness pressing without cutting her, on her most vulnerable place, the strange sensations the creature brought strong beyond belief, consuming her. They were sharp sensations of arousal and a burning need wiping out her fear, because fear anticipated things and this was now, this was happening now.

She cried out as a crackling rumble sounded near her ear, the creature's head near her own, coming around on her left, its smell huge and musky and the heat of it. She had the thought, from very far away, like a tiny light in a vast darkness, that it wasn't on all fours, that it walked upright now. She shied away in her mind, not wanting that thought, madness.

She wanted it to kill her and not make her wait anymore, she wanted it to be over, but more than anything she wanted Kane, she wanted to see him again so much.

"Kane," she sobbed, knowing the creature wouldn't understand, that it was an animal.

The monster rumbled again as if it answered her, licking her throat, licking where her pulse was close to the surface and without her will her head tilted and fell to the side, exposing her throat to him. She felt it then, the comfort of it, so relieved. It was a surge of deep surrender, giving in to it completely, her back arching as something nudged between her legs at the wetness there. She fell deep into it, not thinking about it, what would happen to her not her concern anymore.

She felt something like the pads of fingers spread the flesh around her sex. Her eyes flew open and she cried out as pressure began there, huge pressure.

She began to squirm and struggle against it, trying to escape it any way she could, the creature's breath on her shoulder, on her throat as it grasped her hips, the claws sharp but not cutting her. It dragged the pad of its finger over the soft lips between her legs and hot pleasure shot through her and aching, the stretching unimaginable, relentless.

She jerked and conscious thought left her, everything emptying from her mind except surrender to sensation, monstrous pain, monstrous pleasure. She didn't know how long it happened to her. There was no beginning to it, no end to it.

The beast slowly filled her, it sharp claws raking her all over, leaving that strange pleasure wherever they went until it was all over her and inside her. It pumped once and she felt its hips against her bottom. Its breath stirred her hair as it snuffled and growled softly, claws on her chin, raising and tilting her head, claws on her nipples, sharp bite. It pumped again. She gave a high cry as it began to thrust into her roughly, deep.

The worst of the pleasure began long before she climaxed. She arched and jerked with it, shuddering. She was crying out over and over and he was thrusting into her, snarling, hot and huge, and then it tensed, silence, a growl like a warning.

It grabbed her hair, tilted her head back and to the side viciously and bit her, bit her where her neck met her shoulder, holding there. The pain was enormous. She drew a huge breath, drew a breath forever, and then she opened her mouth and screamed with all her might.

The monster roared into the wound like it answered, so loud her ear went numb, but it didn't release her, pushing deep into her body, holding her with its teeth, and at the very center of her it thrust deep and held there, pumping shallow, a series of loud hungry grunts. There was liquid heat, and more, more burning filling her, an endless spending, escaping her and running down her thighs.

She screamed again, first filling her lungs, and again, screamed until she thought her throat would break as her climax ripped through her and everything was heat and blood and mindless pleasure and he was there, Kane, Kane was with her, Kane in her body and in her mind.

The rope went slack, a swipe of claws. She fell but didn't hit the ground.

#

Aslin woke. Everything hurt. She coughed, her throat so sore. She cried out and winced and touched where her neck met her shoulder, whimpering. It was still bleeding, so hot. She pushed up from the mass she was lying on, a mountain of muscles and soft fur under her cheek.

The beast began licking her neck and shoulder, licking the wound. She moved her head to help him, her eyes closing with relief. It felt so much better. She buried her hands in him and then her face, clutching his fur, pushing herself deeper, wanting the contact, the darkness swirling up and taking her.

#

She woke. She didn't want to move. Her throat still hurt, her body. She opened her eyes and met larger eyes close to her that swirled and changed color with the light. She watched them for a long time.

"Beautiful," she whispered, her voice cracking, and the eyes slowly smiled.

She closed hers again.

#

Something was insistent, a hand. She turned her face away but it came back. A touch on her lips. Then water, water on her lips, cool. She turned toward it and drank, so thirsty, wincing at her throat, it hurt very badly, and then exhaling shakily at the relief of it.

When she was done she was cold. She shivered hard and reached out for him, wanting him, his warm fur, but he wasn't there. She lay on her side on the coldness of the ground, curling up, beginning to weep wearily. He was gone. He had left her alone. A hand brushed her hair from her face and drew her up, arms around her, warm.

"I am not gone," she heard. "You are not alone."

She slept.

She was being carried, the world swaying. She was too hot, everything was too hot.

"Kane?" she mumbled.

"Rest, Aslin, mi lecht, mi dutul."

**********

Clans of Luteri

Chapter 11

Aslin was swimming to the surface. She was in a bed. She hurt. Her eyes opened a little, a blur of light and color. There were low voices just past the open door. Jaime.

"...good her fever has broken. I still think you should let me call a doctor."

"No. I have said why, they do not know Luterian physiology."

"It cannot be different enough to matter, Kane."

"No."

Jaime sighing.

"Has she said what happened?"

"Nothing coherent."

"I'm afraid she will have a scar."

"She will, yes."

Silence. Then Jaime.

"Do you recall Minit, in Luteri?"

"The Prash High Lord's lady? What about her?"

"She has a scar in the same place, if I remember. Didn't you ever notice?"

"I tried not to. The Prash High Lord would not have appreciated the interest."

"Look, Kane, I didn't want to say anything right away, especially with her wound, but the authorities were here this morning. Lord Montrose was killed the same night Aslin disappeared, along with several other men. Evidently they were savaged by some kind of animal. They are thinking a bear or—I feel ridiculous even saying this—a pack of giant wolves. It is unimaginable. But hunters have been out since they were found. I cannot begin to express my relief she was spared, Kane."

"They think it was a wild animal," Kane confirmed.

"That's what I have been told, given the wounds, given the...ferocity and strength that was used. Bigger than a bear, they said, I don't see how that is possible, but the tracks—. What they are reporting, I just don't believe it. But they will want to know where you found her. They will want to speak to both of you."

"Do they have to talk to Aslin?"

"They will insist. I'm sorry, Kane. I can't stop it," Jaime said. "I have no authority in this matter." Jaime's voice dropped very low. "I hate to bring this up, Kane, but I do not think they should know that she was once in Lord Montrose's care. Aslin should be told what would be prudent to say when they come to question you. If you'd like, I will speak to her and we will come up with something."

"Thank you, Jaime."

Silence. Aslin drifted, coming back when Jaime spoke again.

"The young women found on Lord Montrose's estate were in terrible condition, some of them, they have said, it's very distressing, but they have been removed. I wanted to tell you—."

"That they will not be any better off, I know, you have said."

"Actually, that's no longer true," Jaime said. "Your reaction months ago made me realize that while I have always favored long term solutions, sometimes an immediate need is as urgent. I have made arrangements to purchase Bostram House—the old mansion that was Aslin's orphanage—to be a place for these women to shelter, and others like them, for as long as they require. I am sure there are those who will suspect my motives and conjecture, and I do not care. I may not be able to sustain it indefinitely without other sources of funding, but it is not uncomfortable and I'm confident I can find other benefactors."

Thump.

"You have one already in me, you red-haired savage. Your friendship has taught me many things as well, and that value cannot be measured. Tell me what you need."

"Thank you, Kane. Mister Corsham has been handling the affair for me, and I'm grateful he appears sympathetic to their plight and to understand my intentions are honorable toward these women."

"And Miss Corsham? I believe she was to come here?"

"I have delayed her visit, and she sends her regards to you and wishes for Aslin's swift recovery—," Jaime began.

"Kane?" Aslin said, her voice cracking, panic rising in her.

She didn't remember. Then she did remember and that was worse, and so confused, the memory slipping away again, becoming abstract, unreal. She looked at Kane in the doorway. She began shaking. He came and bent down and cupped her face.

"I am not gone," he said.

His forehead touched hers, his eyes slowly smiling. She looked into them and then gave a small sigh of relief, recognizing him. She relaxed completely and slept again.

#

"Yes, my wife and I are Luterian, visiting Lord Shetlan," Kane answered.

"And where did you say that you found your wife, Lord Tavishi?"

"On Lord Montrose's estate, on the grounds not far from here."

"And she was unconscious. Attacked by some kind of animal."

"That is how it appears."

The constabulary looked him up and down, his eyes going to the weapon. He was stocky, a long dark mustache. Intelligent. A suspicious nature.

"Would it be possible to interview your wife, Lord Tavishi? To see the results of this attack? I understand you refused a doctor for her."

Kane's eyes narrowed, and he felt his face go cold, expressionless. It was not voluntary. For another man to ask to stare at her mark. In his mind he knew they just didn't understand, but the bond was fresh and he was tense about it.

In Lutari, time for just the couple after bonding wasn't optional. He wasn't fully in control right now. Everything was difficult. He couldn't explain that to Jaime, not with what he'd had to do to protect Aslin, not with what his...other part of him had done to the man who attacked her, to Lord Montrose because it wanted to, because it was a blunt instrument that struck pretty much anything that angered it, or that it drew from his memories, or merely that crossed its path, sometimes.

He must have caught Aslin's scent and seen the mansion in the distance. That would have been enough. Evidently his...other part of him hadn't liked Lord Montrose. Or the other men, whoever they were. He knew their scent. The taste of them. But their personhoods had not been something he had understood at the time. Shai guided him in that form, and the goddess had taken her revenge on those men through him.

Jaime couldn't know about any of it. It was very definitely one of those things that didn't translate.

"Lady Tavishi is willing to speak with you, yes," he said stiffly to the constabulary, not liking it.

Only Aslin had seemed real that night, and his impressions of her were arousing and very clear, her small form curled up on him, trusting, cherishing her, but also memories of such intense erotic pleasure.