Daughter of the Witch Wood Pt. 07

07.

A Rite and Something More

Almost the entire tribe, more than fifty men and women, walked through the woods to a nearby glen in the shadow of an enormous gackaa tree; it's star-shaped leaves were a deep crimson in the twilight of the year, and in the light of the evening sun it seemed to turn the whole clearing red, like the color of fresh blood. The wolves were still being hunted, so there was a nervous energy in the air as the crowd gathered on the periphery of the forest clearing.

Min stood with Sergen behind her, his hands on her shoulders. She found his strong, tall body to be a bit of a comfort to her at that time, when her heart was racing, worried about her mother's fate. "Is she in any danger?" Min said, looking up at him.

Her lover, his eyes of golden brown shining in the fading sunlight, looked out across the empty clearing. "Life in the Witch Woods is dangerous by nature, Yasemin." The way he said her name, like a tender whisper, made her shiver with secret pleasure. "I believe that Erkin has his reasons for not waiting to hold the Rite on another day. Trust in his wisdom: your mother will be alright."

Erkin walked into the center of the clearing. His thick, heavy body looked imposing somehow with the huge, red tree stretching up behind him. Every eye was on him as he raised his hands. "One formerly of our number returns and requests the Rite of Joining." He made a beckoning gesture. "Come forth."

Erden, walking tall and proud, her kollik clicking softly with every step, did as the chieftain commanded. She was tan and beautiful, sleek and proud; her breasts were full, gently moving with every step. Min had missed her, and loved just watching her move, seeing how her muscles flexed and shifted under her skin.

"Speak your name," Erkin said.

"I am Erden, mother of Yasemin, witch woman, caller of vuk." Erden kept her head high. "I seek to join my destiny again to the children of Kelash, the She-Wolf."

"The law of the Wood states that the weak may seek protection from the strong." Erkin gave her a hard stare. "You were once of our number. If you join this tribe again, you may find leaving it again harder than the last time."

There was a murmur in the crowd.

"She won't like that very much," Min said in a soft voice.

"Nor would he have said it lightly," Sergen answered.

Erden took a moment to nod. "If that is the chieftain's will, I submit to it."

The chief nodded back. "What men will come to try and claim this woman in Kelash's name? Step forward."

For a time, no one moved. Erden's head pivoted and turned in several directions, and even though she was some distance away, Min thought she saw a small, satisfied smile on her mother's face—her hopes of scaring off any potential suitors appeared to have worked.

Erkin's eyebrows went up. "Our numbers may be small, but will no one come to claim this woman?"

It seemed that no one would, and Min started to breathe a little easier until a familiar, if unexpected voice spoke up: "I will claim her." Sait stepped out from beyond the edge of the trees.

"No!" Selin shouted an angry protest, stepping into the clearing to grab her brother's arm.

"Get back, Selin," Erkin said.

"But—"

"Get! Back!" Erkin's voice cracked like the snap of a jungle vine as he pointed at Selin. The affectionate man she'd seen kissing his wife and sharing tender stories was gone; his eyes shone like molten silver. "I hold the right to speak and I have not recognized you!"

Selin's face was a mask of anguish, frustration and jealousy. "But Father—!"

Sait himself turned, took his sister by the forearm and shoved her back across the tree line. Ilay was waiting, grabbing hold of her daughter before Selin could object again. "Don't follow me, sister," he told her. Then he turned away, walking towards the middle of the clearing.

Min didn't want or need any reason to sympathize with the woman, but the on Selin's face when Sait turned his back was almost physically painful to watch. It seemed like she could watch Selin's heart breaking, second by second.

Selin tore her arm out of Ilay's grip and fled, hands covering her face, her muffled sobs soon swallowed up by the trees. The look on Ilay's face said she wanted to follow, but she seemed torn—one child fleeing, the other stepping up to the challenge. Whatever the right choice was, the old witch woman stayed, stepping closer to Min and Sergen.

"Will she be alright?" Min said. She had less reason to care about Selin as anyone, but still felt compelled to ask. Ilay had only been kind to Min since she woke up, and it seemed obvious that the old mother was struggling.

Ilay's smile was sad, even a little sickly. "I'm not sure," she said. "I can only hope so." Min offered a hand, which the old witch took and squeezed tight in a silent show of thanks.

It was obvious that Erkin was troubled by what he'd just witnessed, but duty came before family. Clearing his throat, crossing his arms, the chieftain nodded to his son. "Speak your name, for the record, you who seeks to claim this woman for this tribe."

"I am Sait, son of Erkin and Ilay, Speaker of this tribe."

Min could see her mother shaking her head. "You don't have to do this," Erden told Sait. "There's no shame in no one claiming a woman during the Rite."

"Afraid you can't take me?" Sait said. They were of a matching height; she was dark where he was pale, and her black hair was a contrast to his blond tresses. Erden's eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing.

The chief coughed again, more deliberate that time. "Do you submit to the challenger?" he asked Erden. "There's no shame in submitting to a man before he intends to claim you by force, either," he added, tossing her own words back into her teeth.

Erden's laugh was harsh, even a touch angry. "I will not freely submit to this pup," she said, eyeing Sait warily.

"Very well." Erkin turned and walked to stand beneath the bloody boughs of the gackaa tree. "You will fight one another until one submits." He turned and crossed his arms again. "Magic is forbidden. Begin."

"What?" Erden practically shouted the word in her shock. "You can't take my one advantage away from me!"

Erkin set his jaw. "Speaker, what are the consequences of requesting a Rite and then refusing to abide by the rules a chieftain hands down?"

"Rejection and banishment." Sait kept his eyes on Erden but hadn't moved from his spot; when he crossed his arms, he had a similar tilt to his stance as his father.

The chief nodded. "I thought so." He jerked his chin at the witch. "Fight or submit, Erden. You asked for this Rite—take my terms or go."

Erden looked sick. When she turned and looked at Min, it was obvious even at a distance that the woman was torn, fighting some inner struggle with her pride and the love for her child; rejecting Erkin meant that she and Min might not see one another ever again.

"Are you alright?" Ilay said. She stepped closer to Min, drew the young woman into her arms. Sergen was still close behind both of them, solid as a wall, but Ilay's arms were a comfort.

"I...I don't know." Min rested her head on the witch's shoulder, but couldn't tear her eyes away from her mother's anguished face. "Can't she just submit and get it over with?"

"She won't," Ilay said. "I knew your mother for years before she left us; she was as proud and headstrong as any woman I've ever known." She set a tender kiss to Min's brow, as though that would soothe her. "I never dreamt I'd see her like this, though."

"Like what?"

Ilay sighed. "Helpless, I suppose."

It did seem, in those moments, that Erden was trying to find a way out of the trap that she'd stumbled into. When Sait took a step towards her, she backed away. As a witch, Min's mother was gifted, skilled enough to toss a boulder larger than she was, to rip whole trees out of the ground, but without that magic she was just a woman, and Sait appeared to outweigh her by more than half. Furthermore, even though he was short for a man—Sergen was head and shoulders taller—Sait looked wiry and tough. He continued walking after Erden, not hurrying, as inevitable as new thunder beginning to rumble in the evening air.

"No, no, this is wrong," Erden said, backpedaling away from her unwanted opponent. "I don't want this. You hear me, Erkin? This isn't fair!"

"You knew our ways when you left us, witch woman," Erkin said. He hadn't moved from his spot. "My son has a right to challenge you as a man and a warrior."

"I'm more than ten years older than him—I was an apprentice to your wife when he was born, for goddess' sake!" She was nearly to the edge of the clearing by then. "Don't do this," she said to Sait.

"If you leave the ring, you forfeit the Rite," Sait answered, sounding calm and excited at the same time, it seemed. There was a tension in his shoulders, a shine in his eyes that seemed to be tinted red beneath the reflected sunlight off the crimson leaves.

Erden gave an anguished wail and stopped before she crossed the tree line. She looked at Min again, still torn, still in anguish.

"Mother, just submit!" Min said. "I don't want you to get hurt!"

"Child, child, you don't know what you're asking!" Erden turned back to Sait and ran at him, shouting her defiance. Running would do her no good, so she intended to fight instead.

In truth, it wasn't much of a struggle. Sait was skilled, dodging or weaving back and forth, sidestepping all of her blows with barely any effort. Erden knew a thing or two about fighting herself, but since magic was forbidden, her physical strength was limited.

The first blow was Sait's, who dodged yet another strike, spinning around and bringing his hand flat across her ass hard enough to send Erden sprawling, tumbling into the grass. The witch came back up with a growl, circling Sait more carefully, trying to stay out of his reach.

"She's so damn stubborn," Min said, blowing out a sigh.

Ilay laughed, squeezing the young woman's shoulders. "You don't know the half of it, dearest. Your mother was a spitfire when she was younger than you are now. My son might come to regret his decision if he isn't careful."

Sait wove to one side, ducking his head back and forth to dodge every punch Erden made.

"You were her tutor?" Min said.

Ilay nodded. "Your mother was a foundling and came to the tribe at an early age; I was already mated to Erkin by then, so I was the only witch woman who could teach her. It was a sad, sad day for me when she left us."

It became more and more apparent that Sait was either toying with his chosen woman, or that the fight was vastly stacked in his favor. He trapped one of her wrists in one hand, then caught the other—for a long moment they stood fast, almost face to face, so close they could look into each other's eyes. Erden was streaked with sweat and dirt by that time; Sait looked calm and completely in control.

Min could see his mouth moving, but his voice was too low to be heard. Whatever he said made Erden's eyes go wide and she pushed away from him with another angry shout. She stood, fists at her sides, breathing hard.

"But why did she leave?" Min said.

Ilay shook her head. "That's her story to tell you, not mine. It's a sad one, but I never thought it'd bring her back to us before its ending."

Erden's last attack was her strongest effort: she rushed forward, her feet moving in a blur of movement. One blow caught Sait above the chin, cutting his lip near the corner of his mouth; it made him take a step back to compensate, and she came right after him with a gasp and another swing.

But Erden extended herself too far. Sait's retaliation was swift and efficient: he caught her hand in one of his, throwing her around and making her next swing go wide. One of his fists struck the side of her head and Erden went rolling into the grass—her limbs seemed to have lost their strength, and she was unable to push herself onto her hands and knees.

Just seeing the single blow made Min cry out and she would've jumped forward if not for Ilay and Sergen together, holding her back. "No one is to enter until the Rite is completed," Sergen said.

"But—!"

"No," Sergen said. His hand tightened on her arm. When she looked back at him, his eyes were hard, even though his face was the same as always: calm, handsome, carefully composed. "Remember what Erkin threatened if she refused."

Min bit her lip, turning back again to watch. Sait was on his knees behind Erden on the ground, one of her arms pulled tight behind her back. "Submit," he said to her, blood trickling down to his chin.

Erden turned her head, spitting into the grass. "Fuck no," she said, her words slightly slurred.

He thrust one hand between Erden's legs, which made her moan and buck back at him, but she was too stunned or out of breath to fight more than that. Sait growled and pushed up closer. "Submit!" he said, louder. He grabbed her by the hair with his other hand, pulling her head off the ground.

The force of his voice and the strength in his hands made Erden cry out, but it sounded more anguished and helpless then Min had ever heard from her mother before. "I can't!" she said.

The man was growling with every breath, and Erden's struggles were only making her plight worse. His eyes flashed a brighter hue and then his body began to spasm and swell; bones snapped, cracked and reformed themselves as his skin stretched and a blanket of red-golden fur blossomed from his shoulders, flowing down his arms, back, his backside and down his legs. His head and face grew longer and more sleek; his eyes were bright and hungry.

"No!" Erden said, but her new burst of desperate energy was nothing compared to the strength in Sait's clawed hands. He released his submission hold on her, grabbing her hips hard enough in both hands for his claws to break the skin; blood trickled down her thighs, making her whimper, but it also stopped her from struggling further. Min's eyes widened as she watched, helpless to do anything, unable to turn away. She saw a look of fear on her mother's face mixed with something else—anticipation, reluctance, and lust, a look Min recognized all too well.

Sait growled low in his hairy throat, a wordless warning to Erden at any further attempts at struggling. Then he pushed up tight against her ass, bending over her, now much larger and imposing than before. Erden cried out when he penetrated her, thrusting his hard cock in between the moist lips of her exposed pussy. Her head fell into her arms and she began to make hard, sobbing breaths as the rough, brutal claiming of her body began—that, too, Min recognized all too well. Her first time with Sergen had been in a dark hole, hidden away from watchful eyes; in contrast, her mother was totally exposed, out in the open for everyone to see.

So that was what it meant to submit: now Erden's earlier words came back to Min with startling clarity. It didn't explain why her mother hadn't wanted to submit, but that wasn't important—Erden had her reasons to resist. Min tore her eyes away from the lustful display, hardly believing what she was watching. She wasn't sure what to think, knowing that the whole tribe was still witnessing it, as if the Rite wouldn't be complete without a crowd to witness it. Some were even reacting to the loud, blatant show of physical force and desire: she saw a number of couples pressed tight together, each holding tight to the other. Some women were visibly caressing or stroking the hard flesh of their men; at least one was on her knees, already having taken his cock into her mouth.

Ilay pressed a soft kiss to Min's temple. "I must go to Erkin," she whispered, then slipped away, walking quickly and quietly around the periphery of the clearing towards where the Chief was still watching from beneath the crimson leaves.

Erden's sobs had turned to heavier, grunting cries as her new mate pounded her cunt, fucking her like the beast he was. He curled one hand in her hair while the other rested atop her back. Sait's wolfish face was focused, red eyes burning at the back of his woman's head, lips peeled back to show his clenched teeth. The sounds of her tight pussy slurping and pulling at his silken cock were so loud that everyone could hear it.

Min turned, looking up at Sergen. His eyes of brown and gold were locked on the two lovers, even though Sait's brutal claiming of Erden just then seemed to have less to do with love and more to be about physical hunger. It was having an effect on Sergen as well, and she could hear every breath come out of him as a low, tense growling sound. His entire body had gone taut.

She felt torn between the mother she loved and the man who'd claimed her; Min told him that she would make the best of being his mate, and she was obligated to keep her word. Stepping up next to him, she looked back to Sait and her mother, but curled one arm around his waist while the other hand slid across his taut belly and the coiling curls below.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, almost not wanting to speak at all.

"For what?" he said, his monotone voice so flat it almost didn't sound like a question at all.

"For not giving you what you needed," she said. Her fingers hesitated for a breath before she curled her fingers around his cock; she repressed a breath of surprise at just how hard he was, so tight and thick that his skin seemed ready to split open.

He growled more softly as she began to stroke him, and he had to reach out to the nearest tree for balance. "It's fine," he said, his voice almost a whisper that time.

Erden wailed and raised her head high, shouting out her conflicted pleasure to anyone who could hear her—Min saw that Sait's thrusts became rougher and more shallow as he tied with his woman. She could also see that numerous couples were now in full-on coitus as well, overwhelmed by the potent force of the Rite, helpless to resist the primal urge to mate. Min could feel it too, filling the air around her until she could almost taste it with every breath.

Compelled, but still wanting it, Min stepped around and went to her hands and knees in front of him in the soft earth, wrapping her hands tight around an exposed root. Looking over her tattooed shoulder, she stared up at him, inviting him down without a word, but saying so much with her heavy-lidded eyes. She was wet, so much that she could smell it, and her mate didn't refuse the offer—Min gasped when he entered her and moaned when his own quick, hard fucking began.

Some of the men had changed to their bestial shapes, and rutted with their women with every bit of fierce abandon as Sait did. Sergen didn't succumb so easily, or perhaps he stayed in his softer flesh as a kindness to Min, but it was just as good: she moaned for him and for herself, feeling his sac swing hard against her soaked lips and swollen clit, beating in time with her pounding heart.

For a brief moment Erden opened her eyes again, and mother and daughter stared at each other. Min was sure she'd never seen such a look of lustful satisfaction on her mother's face, the orgasmic bliss that came from being fucked and filled up so completely. It made Min a little jealous to see it, wondering if she'd ever come close to pleasing Erden in all their years together as Sait had managed in one day.

Then Erden's eyes closed again. Min reached under her own body, finding and rubbing her clit with quick, desperate desire until she came herself—her pussy spasmed and squeezed around her lover's hard flesh, trying to urge another flood of seed into her waiting womb. She felt that tell-tale swelling of his cock again, the hardness of his knot knocking against the willing opening of her cunny-hole and Min opened her mouth, crying out like so many of the other women. When he forced it in, her head fell to the pillow of her curled hands and she wailed just like Erden had. It felt good, and she wanted the whole Wood to know it.