The Souls of Wyrmkin Ch. 01

Amaria (a-MAR-ee-uh) and Ixchol (ICKS-shol)

AMARIA

Amaria lowered the hood of her cloak to feel the morning mist kiss her cheeks. Inhaling slowly, she tried to quell her rising sense of dread, focusing instead on the crisp smell of the damp grass, the clean wind, and the moisture slowly beading on her skin. She savored the sensations, lingering a moment to try to commit them to memory. Centering herself the way she had learned long ago, she opened her eyes and once again regarded the cave mouth yawning open in front of her. Far behind her the sunlight was beginning to creep across the open plains, burning away the mist, but in the shadow of the mountain range she felt cold. The moisture beading on her face finally began to run down her cheeks, mimicking the tears she could not shed.

Turning away from the cave, she faced the men of her escort, who were standing a respectful distance away. They were subdued, and many seemed ashamed as they avoided meeting her eye. She felt a low surge of anger and immediately forced it down. This was her choice, though it was really no choice at all.

"I believe this is where we must part," she said calmly. She wondered for a moment at the sound of her own voice. It seemed far away, as though someone else was speaking.

"M'lady..." Jorl took a step toward her, but he stopped when she raised one hand slightly.

"I know, Jorl. We have been through the options a hundred times, and this is what must be. Please do not tempt me," Amaria said gently. Jorl seemed to deflate before her eyes. All of these men had known her since she was a child, but Jorl had been her father's closest friend before he passed beyond the veil. He was also one of the few in the village who had opposed her decision, and done so quite vehemently. "We may meet again one-day, old friend. On this side of Time, or the next." She watched a tear slide down old Jorl's face, but he said nothing.

"I thank you all for your escort. I would ask one last boon of you. Please leave immediately, and return the way we came. I will not be leaving this place, and I do not wish that your presence put you in harm's way. Please." The men nodded and began shuffling to their mounts, clearly hesitant to leave her. She understood their reticence. They were days away from even the nearest small homesteads, and these men were to leave her without a mount or provisions. "Go," she said, more firmly, "and for the love of our people, do not return."

She did not wait to see them leave. She turned back to the opening of the cave, fearing that if she watched them go her fragile resolve might shatter. She no longer knew what the future held. Once, she had imagined that she would someday wed and raise a family, but everything she had ever imagined for her future was about to be out of her reach forever.

One foot, then the other. She began to walk. It felt as though the weight of the Mor'Daul mountain range was pressing against her, but she forced herself ahead on quivering legs. Poise. Grace. Dignity, she thought to herself. She did not act for herself, but for her people. Her life belonged to them, and now it was about to belong to something else.

She stopped at the very edge of the cave opening and waited. After a few minutes, she felt a low buzzing deep within her ear.

ENTER

She did not mean to, but she looked behind her one last time, stealing a final, heart-wrenchingly beautiful view of the open plains dotted with wildflowers, the tall grasses swaying gently in the wind. Feeling as though she was entering her own tomb, she steeled herself and began the descent into the cave system deep within the mountains.

As she walked, the light filtering through the cave mouth dimmed, and finally disappeared altogether. She sensed a vibration too low to hear, feeling it instead in her feet. She knew there must only be one path down into the beast's cave, so she walked on through the inky darkness with one hand trailing against the rough-cut stone of the tunnel wall. She walked for what felt like an eternity, hearing nothing but the hammering of her heart, before the tunnel began to lighten almost imperceptibly. Relieved to be nearing the end of her trek, she picked up her pace, finally emerging into a vast cavern that seemed to be illuminated by some light source off in the distance.

After the complete darkness of the tunnel, the dim light seemed more than sufficient, and Amaria slowly took in her surroundings. She had almost expected piles of treasure and gems like she had always heard about in the nursery stories, but the enormous cave was adorned instead with crystalline stalactites and stalagmites that glittered in the soft light and almost seemed to glow. The effect was surreal, like she had walked through the darkness of the earth to another world. She hesitated, unsure where to go next or what to do. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her to ward off the damp chill and tried to decide what she should do next.

Then she noticed it. One large shadowy shape in the distance seemed to shift slightly. All the hairs on her body stood up and she felt her system flooding with adrenaline. Her hands began to shake, and she felt all her senses straining toward that dark shape. Did it really move? Did she imagine it? She held her breath, straining.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a loud SCRAPE and the shape heaved and settled again. She felt frozen. She had always considered herself to be brave, but the last fortnight of sleeplessness and anxiety had stripped her of most of her natural resourcefulness. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate.

After an agonizingly long wait, she heard what sounded like footsteps. Regular, human footsteps. Startled, she opened her eyes.

He was both terrifying and beautiful. A man stood before her, or at least something that looked like a man. Ice blue eyes scored with vertical pupils regarded her calmly, set in a face that could never be mistaken for a human man's. His features were too angular, too alien. Too draconian.

Pure white hair framed a smooth brow, high cheekbones, an angular nose, and chiseled mouth. The tips of his hair just barely touched broad, powerful shoulders. He towered over her, and she felt her breath stop in her throat. She could literally feel the elemental power emanating from him. It washed over her, leaving the nerve endings in her skin humming. She had spent much of her life devoted to the elemental lore of the world, and now she was in extremely close proximity to a beast that literally embodied those primeval forces. Awestruck, but no less terrified, Amaria forced herself to meet that piercing blue gaze.

I am Ixchol. His lips did not move, but she felt the words forming just inside her ear. He was manipulating the vibrations in the air rather than speak to her. Perhaps he was unable to speak. The words came with another wave of power and she gritted her teeth as it passed through her body. Unsure what to do, she simply stood there, returning his gaze and trying not to think about what might be to come.

IXCHOL (ICKS-shol)

Ixchol examined his new Treasure. The villagers had been most generous. Her hair was the color of spun gold and fell in soft waves to the middle of her back. Her heart-shaped face was somehow both innocent and wise. And those eyes. She had large eyes the color of spring grass at dawn, a pale clear green that seemed to see right through him. As he drank in her beauty, his dragon nature was examining every tiny minutia, sweeping rapidly down her body.

Within moments he was intimately aware of her, from the number of golden hairs on her head, to the slight calluses on the tips of her fingers from her stringed instruments. He noted happily that she was indeed a virgin, as his senses made note of her intact hymen. Yes, the villagers had been generous indeed. The striking woman before him was far more beautiful than he expected, and he could see the fire of intelligence in her clear eyes.

Transfixed by one another, they simply stood. His dragon sense was aware of her rapid heartbeat and shallow breathing, and was analyzing the chemical composition of her blood. He was surprised that she was able to project such an air of calm when she was clearly terrified near the point of panic. He wanted to calm her, but his mind was racing, calculating possibilities and desires. Perhaps he would not use her as he had intended. Perhaps he had finally found a Treasure worthy of being his mate. He had not considered this possibility and the uncertainty made him pause.

Deciding that she might be more comfortable with human speech, he rearranged the muscles in his throat to form vocal cords. "Does my Treasure have a name?"

Amaria flinched at the sound of his voice. It was musical with an almost intangible crackle of power, and it heightened her instinct to flee. She lifted her chin, defiant, and straightened to her full height.

"I am Amaria, Loremistress of Boern."

Ixchol waited, but she said nothing else. She just stared at him impassively while her body chemistry continued to rage in fear. He was more than impressed. This one has real courage, he thought to himself. Rare in humans these days.

It was a lack of courage that had delivered this Treasure to his home within the mountains. Those puny village people were more than willing to sacrifice one of their own to keep him away from their crops and livestock. He found himself thanking their cowardice, for this was the loveliest woman he had beheld in centuries. Her townspeople must have been truly terrified to be willing to sacrifice one such as her. He silently thanked all his ancestors for his stroke of fortune.

AMARIA

"Come," Ixchol said, finally breaking the silence between them. He turned and began to walk, not looking back to see if she followed. She was sure he could prevent her escape, should she attempt it, so she followed him. He led her through the forest of glittering stone formations and it seemed that they were heading closer to whatever light source was illuminating the large cave. After at least half an hour of walking, the cave suddenly narrowed and turned. As they rounded the curve, Amaria's breath caught in her throat.

An underground lake stretched before her beneath a vast dome of stone. Natural openings in the rock high above allowed the light to filter through, and the beams streaked through the gloom to pierce the water's surface. The lake was still, and right in the center was a beautiful cottage on a small island.

Ixchol gestured to the left, and she saw there was a small wooden boat pulled onto the shore.

"Get in."

Amaria climbed into the small craft and looked around in confusion. She did not see any oars or ropes to move them across the water. Ixchol pushed the boat into the water and climbed in across from her. With almost no sound, the boat began to move toward the island. He's manipulating the elements again, thought Amaria. The idea gave her a chill.

It only took a few minutes before their boat was bumping against the shore of the small island, and Ixchol was extending his hand to help her from the craft. She followed him to the cottage, beginning to feel the first sparks of curiosity piercing through the terror and adrenaline. So far, this creature had made no move to harm her and she was slowly beginning to relax.

He opened the door and waved his hand. With a casual flick of his wrist, all the lamps and candles caught flame instantly, and the interior of the cottage took on a welcoming warm glow. The décor was surprisingly unassuming. Stuffed leather chairs sat across from a large hearth. Across the room was a wood-burning stove and a simple wooden table and chairs.

Amaria noticed that, though the furnishings were simple, they were still very fine craftsmanship. There was a short hallway that seemed to lead to a bedroom, but Amaria tried not to look in that direction. Her only assurance when her village made this bargain was that she would not be killed. Beyond that, she did not know what her fate might be. It was possible that she would wish for death before the end came, but she pushed that thought aside. This way lies madness, she told herself.

"Sit. There are many things you must know."

Amaria lowered herself woodenly into a leather chair and Ixchol came to stand in front of her.

"You belong to me now, Amaria of Boern."

She lowered her head, but nodded. "Yes," she said quietly.

"Before the sun rises, you will have sworn an oath to me that can never be broken. You are MINE. Do you understand?"

"Yes" Amaria whispered brokenly, a single tear sliding down her cheek to drip from her chin.

"Then stand up, come stand before me, and turn around."

IXCHOL

Ixchol focused on her intently. Usually his dragon nature was everywhere at once, subconsciously detailing the entire world around him. But right now, every last iota of his attention was focused on the petite creature crossing the room toward him. She stopped in front of him, defiance in her eyes, and turned around. Interesting, he though. Defiant in her heart and mind, yet compliant of body. This should be a most entertaining evening.

AMARIA

She stood before him breathing shallowly until she felt his hand brush the back of her gown. She shivered and clenched her hands, forcing herself to stand still. Again, she felt his touch, but this time she also felt a slight tug on the fabric of her gown. Then another, slightly lower.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no! No, no, no, no, no, no...

She had never been touched by a man before. Amaria had always had the attention of men even from an early age. As a beautiful young girl all the older men in town would dote on her and give her sweets, all the young men tried to catch her attention. But she just had no interest in any of the men she knew. She was an academic, a Loremistress, and her time was devoted to her work and studies. She always assumed she would have plenty of time in the future to think about men.

Now she no longer had a future outside these mountain caverns. She would have no husband. Nonetheless, she was terrified. What did he plan to do?

One at a time the buttons came undone beneath his deft fingers, until her gown slid down her shoulders and puddled on the floor. She was practically panting, but she did not know whether this was from panic or from the fact that she was now essentially naked before this large, strong, man-shaped creature. The cool air stirred against her pink nipples and they stood erect. She was still wearing her under-linens, so she began to cover her breasts without thinking.

STOP

The voice was inside her head again, and a wave of power buzzed through her. She froze immediately, slightly dizzy, and lowered her hands to her sides. Her face flushed with humiliation as Ixchol gently hooked his fingers on either side of her under-linens and slid them down to the floor and off. She hung her head in shame at her nakedness, and at the knowledge that he was staring at her nudity.

She felt his arms move around her from behind and his hands encircled the small mounds of her breasts. She was a petite woman, and had always had small, pert breasts. Though they were not large, they were perfect. Every fiber of her being was screaming for this to stop, but she stood rigidly and endured his touch. His fingers encircled her nipples and slowly began to pinch and knead them. Amaria had never been touched this way, and was unprepared for the sensation that radiated from her nipples, racing through all the nerve-endings in her torso. She gasped, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions racing through her mind. Shame. Humiliation. Degradation. Cowardice. Terror. Resignation. Arousal?

Amaria had never wanted someone before, and suddenly found herself entirely unprepared for her physical or mental reactions to this type of stimulation. Out of all the horrific scenarios she had played out in her mind, rape hadn't seemed like a very strong possibility. Of course, that had been before she knew the Wyrm could take a humanoid form.

Ixchol's long fingers pulled and pinched her nipples in just the perfect way, starting to grip her breasts with his palms. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck, and his breathing seemed to be a bit erratic too. He slowly halted his attention to her breasts and began trailing his hands down her sides.

No, don't stop! Wait, what am I thinking? Oh God, please let this stop. I don't want this, I don't want to lose my virginity to this beast!

Ixchol's hands came to rest at her waist, and he began to slide one lower, over the swell of her bottom and down towards her sex.

"No!" She finally started to squirm. "No! Let me go! I don't want this!"

Suddenly she froze, immobilized. She could see no bonds, but was entirely sure he had manipulated the air somehow to restrain her. Slowly he lowered her onto the floor with his bonds of air, and spread her legs apart, holding them there.

Amaria began to sob. This monster was opening her legs and pinning her helplessly to the floor. And she was appalled to realize she truly was helpless. How does one try to overpower a Dragon while restrained with invisible bonds of air? Hot tears welled from her eyes and ran down the sides of her face.

IXCHOL

"Amaria of Boern, I thought we both understood that you belong to me."

She could do nothing but stare hatred at him while the scalding tears continued to flow.

"That's unfortunate. I had hoped you might cooperate, but I will break you if I must."

He began to kneel between her legs and her sobbing intensified, her heaving chest creating quite a pretty picture for Ixchol to admire. He was not heartless, but Dragons are not considered to be the most empathetic species and are highly practical. Amaria was his Treasure. He owned her now, so she should not object. He viewed her emotional distress as something to be aware of and try to alleviate if possible, but his concern ended there. He was also aware that the pleasure he could give her would likely overcome her reservations in short order.

His dragon nature was able to detect even the slightest changes in her breathing, heart-rate, hormones, and even nervous system impulses. He could analyze all this information to ensure she was enjoying his touch. In short, he could be the perfect lover.

"I am going to sit and admire your beautiful, virgin sex, Amaria," Ixchol said, kneeling between her legs. "I will sit here and stare at it until you stop crying."

AMARIA

Amaria tried to force down the sobs. The only thing more humiliating than her current situation would be to prolong his examination of the most secret places of her body. Breathing through her nose, she calmed herself enough that he was satisfied.

"Better," he said, nodding. He placed either hand on the inside of her knees and slowly slid them toward her sex. Her mind was screaming NO! even as her body shuddered from the shocks and tingles that seemed to shoot directly from his hands, through her body and into her sex. She felt a deep ache and clenching in her lower abdomen that was confusingly painful and also pleasant. Her head was starting to spin from the feelings of violation and helplessness. Her sex was starting to feel wet, and she didn't understand why her body would betray her.

Then, in one motion, Ixchol slid his finger inside her.

"NO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOO!" Amaria started to scream hysterically. Not this, oh God anything but this. Let him kill me, let him hurt me, please, please not this.

Ixchol smiled at her. It was not a sadistic smile, nor a cruel one. Just a smile.