Reluctant Redemption

Uneasy sleep dogged me all night and I tossed and turned in the unusually soft bed. In the morning I discovered a tiny feathery growth sprouted between my shoulder blades in the night. Writhing uncomfortably, I tried to scratch at the troublesome spot, my limbs a little stronger than yesterday.

Everyday, little by little, I regain my energy... Soon I will take you into my care Jenna. I will make you regret not killing me when you had the chance.

My fingers teased at the small feather for a moment before I realized what it was. Once I did, I grasped it and pulled it free with a wince. The blackish crimson blood and moisture was wicked away as I pulled it through two fingers, leaving a delicate black feather, perfectly formed, clutched in my scared fingers.

What is happening to me? I thought with despair.

It was this moment that Jenna returned from whatever she did when she wasn't tormenting me with her presence. Her face had her usual joyful smile that bloomed whenever she saw me. My hand holding the feather instinctively darted under the blankets, hiding the grey feather from her sight.

As if sensing something was wrong, Jenna looked at me questioningly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" I said, overly sarcastic. "I am trapped in a malnourished body in a tiny room just waiting for my captor to stop torturing me and put me out of my misery." I glared at her so she would realize who I was talking about.

Jenna frowned and looked around the room questioningly. "What would it take to convince you to walk around the compound with me? Help, get you back into shape?"

I rolled my eyes. Before freezing sensing an opportunity. "Fine but you have to get me a thick wrap for my breasts." Blood began trickled down my back out of the small and I feared if she took too long, my secret would be revealed, the sheer cloth she'd unnecessarily placed for modesty not enough to hide the blood.

She nodded happy enough about my easy acquiescence that she didn't consider why I even asked, and turned to leave before pausing.

I've been discovered.

She looked like she was about to say something but her eyes darted to the space above my head. Her lips compressed into an enigmatic smile and she left without saying anything.

What is she looking at?

Waving my hand between my horns produced no discernable sensations. Jenna returned and I wrapped up my scabbing wound, a few companion feathers already poking their way through my skin. Pulling the fabric tight squished my new growths against my skin, prickling me with their uncomfortable fibers. I slipped the loose feather under the pillows of the bed, unwilling to throw it away.

Jenna took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Preoccupied, I was unresisting as she hooked her arm. I couldn't figure out why I was so scared of her finding out about my changing body. Her skin was warm as I leaned against her for support, sending tingling sparks through my body that distracted me from examining my surroundings. Besides, it was only five minutes later that my body was so exhausted that Jenna was forced to support the majority of my body weight. We repeated the process every morning, Jenna painstakingly feeding me and exercising me back to health. Every morning I would rip out the old nights feathery growths between on my back. On the third morning I asked for a matching piece of cloth that she used to cover her torso that I would later learn is called a blouse. Jenna complied, which was good, because otherwise I wasn't sure how I would be able to hide the bloodstains that dotted the wrap in dark blue streaks. Thus did we fall into a gentle rhythm that was disrupted on the my seventh night in her care.

My instincts roused me from sleep when someone surreptitiously opened the door to my room and slipped inside. Soft footsteps and harsh breathing grew louder the intruder drew close to the bed. A whiff of acrid alcohol drifted down to my nostrils. Ears straining, I relaxed my muscles, waiting for the right moment to move.

Now.

The breathing stopped and I rolled to the side at the exact moment a knife whistled through the air, stabbing the mattress. My heart beat a comfortable rhythm in my chest.

This... This, I can do.

There was no uncertainty about my body or my feelings toward Jenna. Just me, my adversary, and the glittering point of a knife between us.

"Bloodthirsty bitch," the man slurred. "Why? You killed my son. He was my boy. And you killed him!" His speech was disjointed and he punctuated his words with clumsy strikes that I mostly avoided, even in my weakened state. Only a few of his weaving cuts carved new scars into my flesh. I bided my time, waiting for the perfect moment.

Then it happened, he overextended in a lunging stab. Ducking underneath his arm, I took control of his weapon and hooking an leg behind his ankle. Pushing forward, I felled the angel, his wings springing out wide as he slammed into the floor with a crash. Desperation imbued my claws with strength and I managed to pry the knife out of his hands. I was so focused on his weapon that I gave him the opening he needed to clock me in the jaw with a vicious rising hook. My tongue got caught between my teeth and burst like a ripe grape, filling my mouth with a sweet sanguine taste. The strength of the blow turned the angel over onto his chest and he was slowly pushing himself up, rising from the ground. My foot lashed into his side and I felt the distinctive crack of a snapped rib. Jumping forward, I grappled with the angel, wrapping my arm around his neck, his throat nestled into the crook of an elbow. Seeking better leverage, I hooked my ankles across his chest and arched back, pulling for all that I was worth, hoping to cut off the blood flow to his brain. Grinning ferally, I spat a wad of blood off to the side, my essence thrumming with anticipation at my victory, eagerly awaiting escorting this poor man into the care of the Dark Mother.

How would Jenna feel if I killed him? The thought sprung up from the depths of my brain unexpectedly.

I snarled, gritting my teeth and tightened my hold on his throat, feeling the cartilage constrict and shift.

Why would I care what she thinks?

His movements slowed, growing sluggish and strained. My lips pulled back in a silent snarl and I cocked my head to the side hauling back with all my strength.

I can't do it.

Feeling sick, I let go. The man toppled forward, head hitting the floor with a dull thud, chest still rising and falling. I pushed myself away from him, scrabbling backward on my ass until my back hit the wall in the corner of the room. Kicking the knife caused it to skid across the floor, clattering under the dresser after careening off the wall. The thrill of combat screamed through my veins, doing little to counteract the rising self-hatred that my failure to kill brought me. An unnatural sensation pooled in my chest, bubbling up through my throat and spilling out in my eyes. Warmth crawled along my chest like lava worms across the ground, leaving chilled trails behind. My fingers rubbed along the lines and came away damp.

"What the...?" I whispered while the man gasped around his bruised throat.

It was this moment that the response to the noise rushed through the door in the form of Jenna, staring wide eyed at the scene. "Oh my... Jackson... are you okay?" she asked loudly, rushing over to tend to the fallen man. His bloodshot eyes blinked up at her, while she examined him for wounds. Finding nothing life-threatening she turned her attention to my huddled form. Her amber eyed stare met my tear stained cheeks and she gasped. Her appraisal wandered down, taking in my slashed up arms and blouse, as well as the uncovered bandages with their dried and crusty blood. Expression morphing into something unreadable, she abandoned her angelic comrade. The practiced, guarded facade chipped from her face in pieces, eroding with every step she took toward me, like a granite statue going through centuries of weathering.

First it was her eyes, softening and filling with something I'd started to understand was affection. Then it was her wings, they fluttered behind her in what I recognized as poorly restrained anger. Her lips were next, pinching into a fine line. She was only a couple of feet away when her hands curled into white knuckled fists before deliberately unclenching, one finger at a time.

Why does her anger make angry birds peck at my insides?

I turned away, weak, unable to face her wrath. Flinching when her silken flesh met my cheek, gently, but insistently, urging me to look up at her.

Something warm and bright blossomed in my heart at the caring look on her face, momentarily taking me away from this place. I wasn't one to turn away from reality for long however, forcing myself to face the fact that I'd failed to kill the man when I had the chance.

As well as the reason for doing it.

Jerking my head out of her hand, I obstinately stared at the wall.

Jenna opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by another angel filling the doorway in response to the noises from the tussel.

"Joshua, get Jackson to the infirmary," she growled.

The man moved to help his now steadily breathing comrade, taking in his condition. "Flight leader, she's obviously dangerous. You should-"

"Pinion," she cut Joshua off with glacial menace. Her eyes narrowed, promising unspeakable and gratuitous violence.

My heart did a little pitter patter and I felt a dampness bloom between my legs.

Jenna paused, letting the name hang heavy in the air. "When I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Is that understood?"

"Yes, flight leader. Of course flight leader," he said with obvious deference, his wings drooping low. Grunting, he struggled with the still woozy Jackson as they left the room.

Her hand met my cheek again and the warmth grew stronger. This time I didn't let her make me face her, defiantly pulling away again.

"Talk to me," she demanded in a growl.

My breath hitched in my chest and my breasts tingled, the frisson of excitement her dominance caused sparking through my body. I wanted to speak but the words caught in my throat.

She coughed, pinching her lips, the currents from her agitated wing flutters teasing my hair. "Please, tell me what happened?"

For some reason the gentle plea did more to draw the words from me than her command. "I couldn't do it," I said quietly, frustration and self-anger painting my words a vivid shade of bitterness. "I couldn't kill him. I had the chance to... but I didn't take it."

"Why not?" The gusts from her wings increased as her worry and fear turned to excitement.

I froze, my head darting to look at her, frightened that she knew about her strange hold over me. There was no obvious joy in the emotional hooks she'd somehow set in my psyche. She didn't seem to be lording over the way she'd managed to control my actions without being here. It also didn't look like she planned to exploit this weakness in any manner, getting me to do her bidding.

Overall it left me confused.

What is going on?

The silence went on for entirely too long.

"It doesn't matter," Jenna said. "As long as you're okay." Then she did something I never would have expected.

She curled her arms around me, drawing me into her soft, vulnerable flesh. My claws flexed instinctively and I tensed for an instant; only to find that I had little desire to disembowel her. Instead I... relaxed? The tension melted from my limbs and I existed without future or past, engulfed entirely within the moment.

It felt... good.

My arms, without my conscious decision, curled around her waist. The embrace was comfort and warmth and safety like...

Sanctuary. Her arms feel like a sanctuary.

The light from the room darkened as she used her wings to create a canopy around us, a cocoon that cut off the rest of the world, leaving only the two of us.

"You are okay, right?" she asked, creating a little space so she could examine my face while leaving her wings where they were.

Physically, yes. Emotionally, not so much.

Regardless of my worries, I nodded my assent. My emotions felt fragile and cracked, like winter ice on a spring pond, just waiting for a rock to shatter me into oblivion. Jenna, however, accepted my answer and seemed content with the knowledge it had contained.

A word bubbled from my throat before I could capture it. "Ulaylo." My eyes flew wide at what I'd given her.

"What?" she asked, not understanding.

In for a feather, in for a bird.

"Ulaylo. That's my name. But you can call me Laylo."

With my head down, I missed the radiant smile that burst across her face like a blooming firework across the night sky, making her achingly beautiful.

"Can you help me?" I asked sullenly, and I waited for Jenna to laugh.

She merely blinked, astonished. "Sure sweetie. What seems to be the problem?"

"I couldn't kill him, I have these feelings I don't know what to deal with, it's like I'm on the edge of collapse."

"What kind of feelings are you struggling with?" Jenna asked, concerned I was sick.

As she should be.

"There's this ache. My vagina tightens and leaks this fluid while my nipples grow hard.

Jenna was speechless, a rosiness blooming on her cheeks and she audibly gulped, swallowing hard.

I winced.

That bad, huh?

"So there's no cure," I stated pursing my lips into an irritated scowl. "I probably got it during my exposure in the wilds while I was fleeing from you. How long do I have before it becomes fatal?"

Jenna shook her head. She tried to speak but it came out a dull wheeze before she swallowed again. "It's not that kind of..." she trailed off, looking for the words. "It's not fatal and there is a remedy..." she said it slowly like she was reluctant to provide the information.

"Is it painful? I know I've shown a lot of weakness recently but I swear I am tough enough to withstand the cure. I would do nearly anything to escape these maddening sensations."

Red faced, she looked as if she was under the effects of a noonday sun in the Quemale desert facing down a sunspot salamander that liked to bask there.

Nasty buggers. They have the tendency to light themselves and everything around them on fire.

Jenna coughed awkwardly. "Just... touch it."

"Really?" I peeled away the blouse, exposing my engorged and leaky folds of my sex. "Are you sure? My mother told me I shouldn't mess with infections. Either they'd go away on their own or I'd have to lose the limb."

She stifled a slightly crazed laugh. "It's not... It's not an infection. Just trust me, it's not dangerous."

I cocked my head, trying to capture her eyes but they were locked onto the slick petals of my labia. "Okay..." I said, suspicious of how strange she was acting. "It certainly feels dangerous."

"I'll just leave you to it then. Okay bye," she called out over her shoulder, rushing from the room and closing the door loudly behind her.

What was that about?

Pleased that I'd managed to throw a dagger into Jenna's composure, I hopped to my feet, no longer fixating on what had happened with the attack and my failure to kill. I hummed jovially to myself. Reaching down, I snagged the hilt of the knife and deftly tossed it to sink to the hilt into the wall across the room.

A muffled, "What the fuck?" came through the wall but I paid it no mind.

I skipped once and flopped onto the bed, the wounds on my back from my daily feather removal stinging with the contact. Wincing, I tensed for a moment, before the pain began to blend with the heat coming from between my legs, swirling together until it was hard to tell the difference. Like a pair of runners racing, they pulled each other along, deepening and intensifying both.

What had Jenna told me to do?

Cautiously reaching out, my fingers pulled through the delicate folds of my labia.

Oh! Ohhhhhhh... This requires further exploration.

My vagina was soft and warm as it swallowed the delicate strokes of my fingers.

"Unngghh..." I grunted. My legs spread wider on their own accord and I felt no need to stop them. The chill did nothing to cool my rising ardor, the wet heat spilling constantly from my flesh. There was a sort of rocking motion to the feelings inside me, rising towards a distant peak before slipping back downward like a young hatchling trying to climb an icy slope; the feeling never fully receded, however, each ascent slightly higher and each trough not quit as low. I varied the intensity and speed of the petting. Wincing, my claws pricked a little too firmly at a little knot of tangled nerves that crowned the top of my panting sex. Then I found it. A steady pulsing stroke stroke pause, stroke stroke pause, that pushed me steadily onward. The tension in my body began to vibrate, like a bow string wound too tight. Instinctive animalistic sounds spilled from my parted lips. My hips rocked forward and back, pressing into the air before the sodden comforter beneath my ass.

Almost... there. Just about... Ahhh!

With gleeful, joyful abandon, I reached the peak and threw myself into the arms of a shuddering, life-altering orgasm. The pleasure ricocheted through my body like sunlight through a crystal, refracting and splintering until my whole body was awash with mind numbing light. Whatever else was happening, there was no way I was going to regret this moment, these feelings.

As my arms curled seductively through the comforter, the smell of sex saturating the air, I could only hold one thought in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

What would it feel like with Jenna?

Four days later, we'd fallen into an uneasy truce, although Jenna seemed less comfortable around me, which produced conflicting thoughts. I'd also stopped mutilating the burgeoning feathers as they sprouted, although I still kept them wrapped up, safely out of sight. She'd made no mention of the bandages since the night of the attack.

We were out on one of our strength building walks around town, taking advantage of the abnormally warm weather, when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. I pretended to stumble, plucking the item from the ground and palming it carefully.

"Laylo, you okay?" she asked, offering me a hand.

I held the item close to my chest, and let her help me up. "I'm fine," I said gruffly, trying to remain discrete.

"I think that's enough for today. Let's get you back to your room." Hooking my elbow she helped me all the way back to my room, even going so far as to tuck me away in bed.

"Jenna," I called out as she went to leave. "Do you think I could have a bit of that drink you like?"

"Silgen?" she clarified.

I nodded, not sure if that was its name but not truly caring either way.

"It's very sweet, I don't think you'll like it."

Sneering internally, I squashed down my pride. "Please."

It was like I'd just lost to her in a sparring match, she was that happy that I'd reached out to her for assistance.

"Of course, I'll get it right away," she said, practically skipping from the room.

Right after she left, I looked at the small fungus still in my hand. It was an innocuous looking thing, walnut brown with white veins running across the surface. Prying the cap from the stem, I popped it into my mouth and swiftly began to chew, throwing the remainder under the bed.

Dangerous, but worth it if this works.

Jenna returned bearing a steaming cup of the silgen, her hands partially splashed with the liquid in her haste to return.