Night Hunt Ch. 17-18

"Hm," the King raised an eyebrow. "You have exactly one minute, and then I decide if you should even live for having interrupted me."

Sylvester only smirked.

"Well in that case your Majesty, allow me to demonstrate..."

He moved so quickly, Anya only registered that he had blown past Tyrus and grabbed her a couple of seconds too late.

Tyrus roared.

Anya looked up to see both Tyrus and her father with twin expressions of an emotion she never thought would cross their faces -- Fear. They were both frozen, hands up in warning but unable to do anything before Sylvester made a move.

That was the last thing she remembered, before sharp fangs pierced her neck. Then her world went black.

****

Sam didn't even pay attention to where she was going. She moved blindly through the corridors of the castle, the path familiar from the many years that she had come to the ball. Eventually, she pushed open the doors that led to the quiet balcony she had discovered a couple of years back.

Although snow was falling furiously outside, the balcony stayed warm through the magic that supplied the castle. The solitude enveloped her, leaving her with her thoughts.

O'Callaghan... The Kavanaugh Pack. The names still caused her gut to twist and brought up that familiar aching sorrow in her chest. The memories flooded back.

The last war between the elves and werewolves had taken place in her father's realm, a land that existed parallel to the human world, and could be accessed by a few portals known to supernaturals. It had started up without warning, a brutal clash between the two species resuming after a short period of peace from the last war.

She was only nine years old, had woken in the middle of the night to the sound of her mother's desperate cry for her to get up and run. Having grown up in war and been trained for war, she rolled out of bed and was on her feet in an instant. But all the training she received could not prepare her for the scene that she faced in her bedroom.

Three wolves, which she later learned were from the Kavanaugh pack, were in full wolf mode. They were huge, with eyes wide and alert, maws snarling and claws extended. Her mother had placed herself between their attackers and Sam. Trained as a warrior, she had her sword in hand, and Sam could see that she had already drawn blood.

Sam grabbed her own sword which she always kept near, and pushed her terror aside to join her mother. Her mother, however, shook her head and told her to run. Sam understood from all her training that she needed to go. She was a liability to her mother. Her skills were good, but not enough to fight off three fully trained wolves. Her mother was one of the best swordswomen in the realm, and stood a fighting chance of getting out of this alive if she didn't have Sam as a distraction in the room.

Everything in her wanted to stay, had to know that her mother would be okay. There was no time for a last hug or last touch. The wolves were bearing down on her mother, tightening into a circle around her that gave Sam the opportunity for escape. Sam took it and ran. That moment would always haunt her.

For hours, she had waited in one of their safe houses, huddled with other elves who had found their way to safety. More and more elves arrived, even a few she recognised from the palace, but none were her mother. It was nearly dawn when her father rushed into the room, frantic with worry. The moment his eyes connected with hers, she knew. Her mother hadn't made it.

A tear tracked down Sam's face as she watched the snow falling outside the Primakov castle. She hadn't thought about that night in almost a year now, but the memories still felt so raw. She'd long ago accepted that her mother was gone, but she still missed her deeply.

Her senses alerted her that someone else had just stepped onto the balcony. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Nobody else sent awareness skittering through her body like this. Somehow, Sam had also expected that he would have followed her here. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did.

Connor didn't say anything as he came to a stop by her side. They stood together in silence for minutes, watching the snow.

Connor was the first to break the silence. "So, princess huh?"

Sam shot a cool look over. "Alpha's son, huh? You really had no idea about me?"

Connor shook his head.

"Your father killed my mother," Sam said quietly. She didn't say it with any judgement. Her mother was only one of many casualties in the war, and she had knowingly put her life at risk to defend her realm. Most elven women were warriors, and not spared the brutalities of war. Still, the words had been ringing in her head since she'd learnt of Connor's identity, and she needed to say them out loud.

"Your brothers killed my Uncle and his entire family," Connor said.

"So we're even then," Sam said wryly, but her words held more weariness than bite.

"I didn't mean that," Connor replied softly. He stared out at the snow, unreadable.

Moments more passed, with them side by side, neither saying a word. The silence stretched between them, the air vibrating with an energy that seemed to crackle over Sam's skin. Several times, she started to speak, then swallowed the words, not quite knowing what could be said. The longer they stayed silent, the more the air seemed to vibrate, as though it would ignite at the tiniest spark. Finally, it was Connor who spoke.

"Look princess, war is ugly. It's a senseless thing with a mind of its own. It takes without discerning who or what lies in its path. We both lost people we loved, and for what? There was no reason or purpose. No good or bad sides. Just a deep hatred that I hope is not too late to mend. I'm sorry you lost your mother. I'm sorry I lost my cousins. Did you know one of them was only a month younger than me? He was like a twin brother to me, closer than anyone, and then the war took him."

He took a steadying breath, but Sam didn't miss the shakiness in his inhale.

"I spent years hating your people... hating your family. I can tell you, that's time and energy wasted. It's in the past. Nothing is going to bring them back. All we can do is learn to move forward. And if we go back to all the hating and fighting.. it's just.. I can't- I can't fucking stand that all that death was for fucking nothing. You know?"

The emotion in Connor's voice seemed to charge the electricity that roiled beneath Sam's skin even further. Raw energy expanded and pushed against her skin, until she felt she would explode. How many times had she had those same exact thoughts running through her head?

Connor looked at her then, and something must have shown on her face because his eyebrows went up in concern.

"Princess?"

She shook her head.

"Don't call me that. And it's not Sämrhyn either. It's Sam, alright? I'm not the same girl I was all those years ago. I'm just me," she choked out, not caring if she didn't make any sense.

Her encounter with her father and Darryk earlier had brought back all the old resentments, the obligations and senseless duties that she had desperately sought to escape when she moved to the city. Connor's words had dug up old wounds that she thought she had buried.

"Ah... and I'm just me," Connor said with perfect understanding in his eyes. Of course, the prodigal son of an Alpha would know exactly how she felt.

He reached out to touch her face, but stopped short just before his fingers brushed her cheek. She flinched before she could control her reaction. She regretted it the moment it happened, but she couldn't just undo years of conditioning from her upbringing.

Connor snatched his hand back. His mouth formed a grim line, and a muscle at his temple ticked.

"If I were any other species than a wolf, anything at all, would you have thought twice about being with me?" He asked so quietly that his voice betrayed no emotion.

Sam knew she was at a crossroad now where there was no going back once she faced the truth. And it was right there in front of her, so glaringly clear that she couldn't deny it.

She'd known it right from the start, but up until now, had never let her thoughts go there.

"No," she said.

Connor's eyes widened, as if he couldn't believe that she had finally given him an admission. He went so still she wondered if he had stopped breathing.

Then intention flickered in his eyes and he drew closer to her. He lifted his hand again, slower this time, giving her time to process what he was doing.

She dropped her gaze to his lips and it was all the permission he needed for his fingers to connect with her skin. His hand slid forward until his fingertips buried themselves in her hair, and his palm rested against the side of her face.

She closed her eyes as she leaned into his touch, lifting her own hand to cover his. Like the most natural thing in the world, their fingers intertwined. And just like that, the barrier between them dissolved. The tension beneath her skin eased, like a sigh of relief. He brought himself closer, until he could wrap his other hand around her hip and press himself up against her.

She gasped at the contact, just as Conner let out a soft groan. The material of her dress was so thin that it didn't even feel as though it was there. She felt the heat of him, aware of every single point of contact between them. His large body dwarfed hers and yet, they fit perfectly. Why had she fought this for so long?

"Sam." His voice was part reverence, part growl.

Her pulse kicked at his voice saying her name. He was so close now that she had to tilt her neck to look up at him. Her eyes met his and immediately, she was jolted by the primal hunger she saw in his eyes. It was the wolf looking at her, more than the man.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Connor said, his breath brushing against her. "And if you say no I'll stop, but I really really hope you don't. You have to know I'm dying here."

Her throat went dry. It was going to happen. She wanted it to happen. Correction, she needed it to happen. He gave her a second to reject him, and when she didn't, he muttered "fucking finally" before closing the last inch of space between them.

He pressed his lips against hers, but instead of getting hot and hungry, their lips met in the most perfect, meltingly gentle kiss. And then he did it again. And again.

He took his time, tasting and savouring in small, feathery touches. As if they hadn't waited weeks for this moment. As if they had all the time in the world. And she felt it, all the way to her toes. She reciprocated, doing just as much tasting and savouring of her own. A stroke of her tongue, a nip of his lower lip, spurred on with each low moan she elicited from him.

Kissing Connor was nothing like she expected. She didn't think he could do sweet and gentle like this, or that it would feel so right. It felt strangely familiar, yet tantalised every nerve ending in her body.

And then Connor slid his palm over her ass and everything changed. They crashed into each other, desire and need taking over. There was only hunger, a black hole ready to devour entire galaxies. She stopped thinking altogether because he was kissing her so hard that she simply couldn't think. Her leg raised of its own accord, as though she were trying to climb him.

He stopped kissing her and she let out an embarrassingly needy mewl, until she felt herself lifted up by strong arms. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips as he backed them up against a wall. Her slinky dress hitched up to allow the movement, exposing her and pressing her against him without a barrier.

The new position placed her right on his impressive hardness, and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of it. Throwing her arms around his neck, she ground herself against him, seeking pleasure through the layers of clothing between them.

Connor hissed. "Damnit Sam, I need you naked and under me right now."

Her nipples responded immediately. "My room is in the east wing," she told him between nips at his earlobe.

"Mine's closer."

She yelped as she found herself propelled suddenly by one very horny, very eager, and very swift werewolf, hanging on tight to him as he sped at supernatural speed to his room. Seconds later, she was flung down on a larger than king-sized bed. He stood at the edge of the bed, a glint in his eye as he shucked off his clothes in no time at all. Not an easy feat, given he was in a tuxedo.

"Do you have protection?" He asked.

Since they were both species that could reproduce, he had to check. She blinked, pushing herself up on her elbows and trying not to be too distracted by the view. She'd been so caught up in her haze of lust that she hadn't even given it a thought. She appreciated that he was being responsible.

"Yeah, it's taken care of," she replied.

"Spell?" He asked, and she nodded in confirmation. Given the regularity that supernaturals had sex, she'd had a contraceptive spell cast on her. The supernatural equivalent of being on the pill. Expensive, but more convenient and foolproof than what the humans had.

With that out of the way, he advanced towards her. His eyes blazed with intent.

"Wait!" Sam cried, reading his mind. "For your information, this is not the sort of dress you rip apart. I would very much like it to stay in one piece if you don't mind."

He paused, hands in midair. She knew she'd been right when she saw that his fingernails had extended into sharp claws.

She rolled off the bed in one graceful move. "Allow me," she said with a knowing smirk.

She gave a quick flick at her shoulder straps, and the silky material pooled down to her ankles like liquid silver.

Connor swore, eyes nearly popping out of his head as they swept over her nude body. He lifted a shaky hand and scrubbed it down his face, as though it was the first time he was seeing a naked woman in the flesh. A strangled sound escaped his throat.

Her body responded. She felt her nipples tighten and her scent fill the room as arousal caused moisture to gather between her legs. The next thing she registered was Conner's nostrils flaring and his eyes flashing blue before she found herself knocked off her feet and onto the bed, under the delicious weight of a fully grown werewolf.

He was still in human form, but he felt bigger than he was a minute ago. His shoulders felt broader, thighs thicker, and his body radiated heat. A deep rumbling growl emanated from his chest as their bodies pressed up against each other, skin against skin. His erection pressed against her abdomen, pulsing and obviously ready for action.

She threw back her head with a throaty laugh. His eyes met hers, dancing with the same delight and exhilaration she was feeling. They were finally here and it couldn't get any better.

His lips met hers in a crushing kiss as he nestled himself between her legs. She drew her nails across his back and dug them into his amazing ass. She'd wanted to get her hands on it since the first time she'd checked it out. He went lust-crazy, sucking and biting at her nipples in return. A graze of a sharp fang drew across her tender flesh. She gasped in pleasure. No surprise there, they both liked things a little rough.

They tasted each other again, lips gliding across skin, occasionally taking a playful bite. It was as if they were making up for lost time. His fingers traced her inner thigh until they reached their target. He dipped one finger into her, teasing her with slow, sensual movements.

Sam writhed to his touch, especially when the finger pulled out and moved to her clit. She tried to grab for his straining cock in return but he kept it just out of her reach.

"Ladies first, Princess," he said with a wicked grin, rubbing circles across her sensitive nub with increasing speed. It was like he knew her body, knew exactly what he was doing. He lowered his head to her breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth, all the while continuing his assault on her clit and pussy.

"Stop calling me- oh!"

Without warning, she shattered. He captured her mouth, swallowing her cries. Sam met his kisses with fervour, determined to drive him as crazy as he was driving her. She almost forgot to come up for air. When she did, she tossed him a coquettish grin and flipped over, going up on all fours and grinding her rump up against him.

He groaned as her wet slit teased his cock. His hips pumped in response, pushing his tip to glide up and down her entrance. Now it was her turn to moan with pleasure. He teased her without actually pushing himself in, and she squirmed with impatience.

A loud growl startled her and she felt herself being flipped abruptly onto her back again with such force that her breath got knocked out of her. He leaned back from her, resting his hands on her spread knees. The darks of his pupils were blown wide, rimmed with a pale, glowing blue. She frowned at the expression on his face.

"Connor? Is everything ok?" She asked, pausing for a moment to try to figure out what the hell just happened.

He shook his head at the sound of his name, as if physically trying to shake himself back into the present. The glow from his eyes receded, and she caught the moment when coherent thought returned to him.

"Yeah, just... nevermind."

He lowered his head towards hers again. She wanted to ask more, but he swept in with a kiss filled with so much heat that she lost her train of thought completely. And then they were right back where they left off.

She moaned and opened her legs in invitation, and this time there was no more teasing. He lined himself up with her entrance and found no resistance.

They groaned in unison as he thrust inside her, sliding in as far as he could go. They were a perfect fit. He was large and thick and stretched her so deliciously that she wanted to protest when he began to pull out. Before she could make a sound, he was plunging in again. And again.

They found their rhythm easily, finding that perfect balance of give and take, their bodies acting on instinct to wring as much pleasure from each other as possible. Sam had never experienced anything like this. She'd made love before, but this was so much more. Their bodies were connecting on many more levels than just the carnal. She didn't question it, giving in to the moment and allowing it to take over her completely.

Just as she felt the familiar crest of an orgasm rising, she felt Connor's cock expand and push even deeper within her than she ever thought possible. She gasped at the incredible sensation, thighs clenching at the onslaught of pleasure. That was all it took to push her over into the most earth shattering orgasm of her life. Connor gave one last low, rumbling growl and joined her, his body stiffening as he completed his final thrust and came with her.

They collapsed together in a sweaty heap, limbs tangled, arms too limp to hold their bodies up. It seemed they stayed that way for ages, panting hard to catch their breath.

"Wow," Sam breathed. "That was..." she couldn't complete her sentence. What had just happened had officially rendered her speechless.

"Yeah," Conner agreed.

He leaned in and gave her the sweetest, lingering kiss. In the aftershocks of her massive orgasm, the feel of his lips raised goosebumps all over her body.

He began to roll off her but instead of sliding out of her, she felt a sharp tug at where they were still joined.

"Ow," she frowned as he tried again.

She looked at him in confusion but he only stared back at her in alarm. He tried again, and she yelped as she felt the tug deep in her cervix.

He swallowed. Hard.

"What is it Connor? Is this some kind of weird wolf thing?" She asked, a sense of apprehension creeping over her.

"Um, Sam? I have to tell you something," He said, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.