By: SinfulWolf

Driftafay was not far now, Thaden had said as they stopped for what should be their final night upon the road. His two companions had left the day prior, muttering something about finding more profit on other journeys, but Thaden had stayed true to his word. An honest outlaw he had called himself when confronted with it. Kira did not know whether to believe it or not, but she was thankful for his company, and after the few days of travel had come to find his crass behaviour enduring, even pleasant in a way.

So now they sit beneath the trees of the massive forest that would take them nearly to the city, before plains and farmland opened the sky to whoever walked the roads curling through it. Gathered around a fire, their bellies full with a deer Kira had brought down, they simply enjoyed the company of the other.

Thaden played his flute, the soft music curling into the night air, relaxing and cheerful; a stark contrast to the dark days the plagued this world. He leaned against his pack, sitting upon the grass with his eyes closed as his fingers danced with practiced skill along the length of the instrument. Bangs of sandy hair fell over his brow, very nearly reaching his eyes, and Kira watched him with a small smile upon her lips.

The music did not quite drown out the sounds of the forest, she could hear an owl within the trees as it hunted, could hear the chirp and buzz of insects within the undergrowth, and the rush of the wind between the leaves that hung over them like a blanket from the world outside and the horrors within.

The smell of burning wood, so relaxing in this setting, curled with the bitter smoke rising into the air. The moist earth and even the hard bark of trees had their scent, reaching out to Kira’s senses. She leaned further back against her own pack, but kept her eyes on her companion. She could smell him too, his musk, the sweat upon his skin, even the deer upon his breath. It was almost intoxicating, swirling through her blood and surging in her loins.

 Slowly she rose to her feet as Thaden continued his music, and pulled off her boots. She walked like an animal, feet graceful and predatory as she stalked towards the man feeling the grass and earth between her toes and against the soles of her feet. Fingers arched like claws as his scent washed away all else around them. The heat of the fire was upon her back now, warming her skin through the leathers she wore. Standing above him, heart pounding within her chest, she watched the quick and precise movements of his fingers along his flute.

For a moment she simply stood, until his eyes slid open. He looked upwards, flute falling from his lips, and gazed upon the woman before him. Life burned in her eyes with an animalistic fury, and he smiled softly, warmly. He carefully slid his instrument into the leather sleeve he always carried with him, as Kira peeled away her top, exposing her flesh to moon and fire light. Shadows danced across her bronzed skin as she lowered herself until she straddled his lap. The animal skin skirt she wore rising up to her hips with the motion, revealing her thighs.

Leaning in, she ran her nose up his neck to his jawline, earning a soft gasp of desire from the man’s lip, taking in his raw scent. Her fingers slid over his jerkin, carefully undoing the toggles that kept it closed, and kept his body from her hungry gaze. Running his hands over her sides, he felt the power in her muscles, coiled and ready to unleash, as the tips of her breasts graced his now bared chest.

Her lips found his own, and Thaden found himself lost in the touch. His mouth opened, her breasts firm against his body, her tongue pushing between his lips. Hungry and passionate their lips caressed and tongues danced while her fingers slid down his flesh to his pants.

Unlatching the buckle of his belt, Kira pulled the strip of leather from around him, flicking it to the side to land in the grass before undoing the clasps of his trousers. Thaden let out a hungry groan, muffled by their kiss, as he felt Kira’s hand grasp his cock, already hard in her fingers. She guided him, the head of his prick sliding along her thighs to her nether lips, slick with lust.

Their moans mingled as she lowered her hips, feeling him push inside her. He grasped her hair, pulling her tight against him as she began to roll her hips, feeling him slide in and out of her cunt. Her hands explored his skin, the old scars and firm muscle beneath. He grasped her ass firmly, guiding her movements, thrusting up to meet her. Her breasts bounced with each movement, stiff nipples dragging over his chest as they fucked beneath the boughs of the tree.

Sweat and sex filled her nostrils as she rode him, juices streaming down his cock and over his lap, lips far from satiated as the entwined with one another. She could hear his heart pounding, taste his lust on his tongue. It was nearly overwhelming.

Because of it, she did not see the shape that moved within the tree line, watching with red eyes.

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The inn looked to be a rather ramshackle establishment, and even now not so long from the sun reaching its zenith, there were some rather less than savory characters lounging around outside, one or two openly staring at Kira in her leathers. She ignored them and spoke only to Thaden.

“I’ll wait here for two days. Anything goes wrong, we’ll go back to the forest, figure the rest out from there,” he told her.

“Sure you don’t want to come with?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not exactly well liked in the city. Nor do I really want to be,” he said, glancing towards the walls of Driftafay, along the cobblestone road used by traders, merchants and farmers to gain entrance to the city with crops and wares for the market.

“Good luck then,” Kira said simply, with a stiff nod before starting off down the road. Thaden smiled and shouted after her.

“I think I’m supposed to be wishing you that,” he said, the mirth heavy in his voice, before he turned to slip into the inn, and Kira was on her own once more.

For hours she walked along the road, putting one foot in front of the other, while the walls of the city grew larger, and the ground between her and them shrank. A few carts passed her by, fearful riders glancing down at her and her strange form as they went by. What struck her though, were the carts full of people, dirty and disheveled, the occupants clinging at very few belongings.

Refugees, fleeing the onslaught of the Kazdruk hordes sweeping ever further inwards. Whispers and teary eyes told tales of bloodshed and horror. These were only the ones who managed to get away, so many were left behind to became corpses or slaves. It spurned Kira faster, knowing that her people were out there, counting on her.

It was well into the afternoon when Kira finally arrived at the large gates of Driftafay. The heavy oak panels strengthened by thick bands of steel were opened wide to the world, but there seemed to only be movement into the city, and none out of it. A handful of guards, in steel plate and holding long pikes with swords sheathed at their hips, stood watching those that entered their gates from beneath the rims of their open faced helmets.

Not all of them were humans either. Two, including one with a green plume curling down from the crest of his helmet and dangling to his back, were Elves. The plumed guard seemed to watch the others as much as those that streamed in through the gates, and Kira found he made her nervous.

Still, she walked as calmly as she could through the opening in the mighty walls surrounding the city, and embracing all those that lived within. Standing upon the cobblestone street that led through all the multi story buildings, she felt her breath taken away.

All her life she had lived in villages and small towns, and hunted and worked in forests. Never before had she set eyes upon a city proper. Now here she was, and despite the urgency of her mission she couldn’t help but admire what spread out before her. The buzz of people, the streets curling between well built homes and shops, spires of towers shooting up into the skyline. And in the centre of the city, perched atop a hill, was the great palace of Evarmar, where the council of the Coalition sat, where emissaries from all the Human clans and Elven houses met together, to determine what was best for all.

At its corners, almost impossibly tall and thin towers speared into the clouds, while the core, a great dome of stained glass that was said to shimmer with the light of a thousand candles at night, stood glimmering in the sunlight of day. Blue and green danced on its surface, and Kira gazed in wonder at its beauty. She could not see the gardens that surrounded it from this distance, nor the white walls that held up the dome, with exquisitely carved columns and statues marking it as a marvel of Human and Elven craftsmenship.

She put one foot before the other, and started to make her way towards the palace, to see it first hand, to enter and find salvation for her people, when a gruff voice called out. She turned, it was the Elf guard with the plumed helmet, pointing at her, sword in his hand. The humans stared in wonder, but other elves came rushing forward from within a door built into the stone of the wall. A guardroom, or gatehouse of some sort.

Kira felt a breath catch, wondering what had set them off, panic settling in, hand reaching down for the sword at her hip, but she was hesitant to turn blade against her own side. For her hesitation, she had no defense against the club that struck her in the back of the skull. Pain exploded in her head as all vision went black. She felt herself landing hard upon the street, and the gasps of the people around as guards surrounded her.

Another strike, and she was sent into unconsciousness.

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Two days. That’s how long Thaden said he would wait, but Kira did not know how long she had been unconscious. The sun was up, but with the blood clotted in her hair, it could have been for much longer than a few hours. She still did not know what had brought on the attack, for she had awoken in this cell, bound in chains, and no one had spoken to her, or given her anything since she awoke an hour before.

All she did, was pass the time by staring through the bars at the sun slowly climbing over the dome of the Evarmar Palace, trying not to think of who had stripped her and dressed her in the moth bitten rags that concealed her now. Hanging her head, she tried not to let despair creep in. She needed to get through this, for her people.

A ear stabbing screech sounded behind her, as the rusty iron gate swung open, and heavy metal boots sounded behind her.

“On your feet prisoner,” came the same deep Elven voice from earlier; the guard in the plumed helmet.

With chains rattling upon the stone floor, and between her wrists, Kira stood and turned to face the guard. He glared at her with suspicion and even hatred. Kira slowly came to understand what had happened, and she cursed herself for being so foolish about her own body; the Elves did not have stories of Wolfkin, her ears and tail had brought suspicion of demonic corruption. For now she would simply have to play along until she could prove her innocence, but she could not be patient for long.

“Seems the council wants to see you. Come with me,” the guard said, his sword tapping slightly on the ground, reminding Kira that it was there.

With a long sigh she left the cell and slipped into the hall. Another guard was awaiting her, and she couldn’t help but notice that he was an elf as well. A frown creased her brow, but she continued to walk forward, chains scraping against the floor with each step, the stone cold against her bare feet.

Passing the other cells she saw prisoners staring out at her, some with fear, some with wonder, and some with lust. They sat within their confines, staring out between iron bars, and in their eyes Kira saw damnation. These men and women were imprisoned for corruption by the Kazdruk. Cultists more than likely, but she couldn’t know for sure.

She pushed her gaze forward, not wanting to meet the stares of those truly damned, while she was merely accused.

The walk through the dungeon was dim, the halls lit only by a few torches, whose light struggled to reach the corners. The sound of her chains and the boots of her captors the only sound that reached her ears, until a woman, who had torn away at her rags, smashed herself against the bars. Blood seeped down from a gash on her forehead, smeared over the iron she clutched to. She grinned wickedly, bared breasts pushing out into the hall. Strange words flowed from her lips, words that Kira could not understand.

The lead guard punched her back, sending her toppling back into her cell, sputtering angrily as she lay upon the floor. Kira let out a long sigh, and simply kept walking. The woman was of the enemy she was sure, and felt it hard to find any sympathy for her.

Stepping out of the dungeon and into a small walled compound, she lifted her hands, the sun glaring after the dimness of the dungeon proper. The sounds of the city reached her now, as people went about their lives like nothing was amiss in the world. Kira envied their ignorance of the pain and death that awaited outside their walls. She thought again of her sister, fallen or enslaved in the Kazdruk camps to the south.

Three more guards joined them, carrying short spears close to their armoured forms, and formed a semi-circle behind her. Kira glanced at them, and only one was a human. A shiver slid up her spine, and fear pounded in her heart. Before they left the walls of the compound the manacles around her ankles were unlocked and set aside. The butt of a spear pushed into the small of her back, and she started marching through gates of iron bars and into the streets of Driftafay.

People from all walks of life stared at her as she was marched past in chains. She could smell their fear, unwashed bodies as more refugees streamed into the city and hygiene faltered in the face of such human waves. She hung her head low, seeing even here the pain caused by the Kazdruk invasion. Hopeless eyes watched her being marched past. Merchants, peasants, tradesmen, even a few whores, all stopped to stare. She saw a child with no shoes, the boy dressed in mere rags. He stared at her, reeking of fear, but there was hate in his eyes.

It hit her then. They thought she was corrupted, she thought she was the enemy, the story of the Wolfkin had faded so far into legend. The boy stopped low, and tossed a glob of mud from the side of the street. It struck Kira in the side of the head, matting her hair to her scalp. The thick mud slowly rolled down her head, spattering on her shoulder. She could do nothing by sigh and avoid the glares of those that watched. Angry shouts came from the crowds, and more mud, and moldy food was thrown at her, even a few rocks. They thought her the enemy.

The guards kept everyone away, but did nothing to stop the deluge of things thrown at her. Her head was knocked to the side as a fair sized rock cracked her in the temple. She felt her ears ringing, and a warm wet feeling crawling down to her cheek. Still she said nothing until finally she was being led up the stairs that led to the palace of Evermar. The crowds thinned out, until she was in the beautiful courtyard before the massive doors of the palace, surrounded by well dressed nobles in silk dresses and fine pressed tunics and breeches.

The dirt and grime were gone, replaced by a marble walkway that led to the doors. Two fountains were dug in on either side of the path, surrounded by gardens and hedges that spread out and curled around the entirety of the palace. Vibrant flowers of blue, violet, red, yellow, white, and so many other colours stood proud, as if a beacon of light against the darkness plaguing the world.

Any other occasion, Kira would have been breath taken with its beauty. Today she was much too terrified. She knew she was going to have to plead for her life in but a few moments.

The guards led her towards the large doors, where another two stood in brilliant silver armour, and finely tailored blue capes that flowed down from their shoulders. Perfectly formed halberds were clutched in their hands, and swords whose grips gleamed with a golden finished, sat at their hips in scabbards of fine leather and silver trim. They were both at rigid attention, the guards of Evermar, some of the finest soldiers in the entire Coalition; this Kira knew well.

They stared at Kira through the open eyes of their helmets, though blue silk cloths formed masks over the lower half of their face. One was steady and almost emotionless, the other though clearly showed hatred. They did not move until Kira was forced to a stop before the door. The Elven guard captain moved forward and pulled off his helmet.

“I, Captain Sunstor, bring forth the prisoner for the judgement of the council of ambassadors,” the man said, and now Kira had a name to go behind the blows earlier.

The two guards nodded slowly, in time with one another, and reached inwards, grasping the handles of the large doors, inlaid with golden vines to showcase the wealth of Driftafay, and pulled them open.

Kira was pushed again with the butt of the spear, through a short hallway of marble floor and dark painted walls, dotted with a few more large oak doors, until she stepped out into a large chamber, the roof domed above her, painted around the rim with all the heraldry of the Human clans and Elven houses. The rest was painted brilliant blue, with a spherical chandelier hanging from the centre, glowing with brilliant magic light from within. The floor was even more marble, and seats were curled around the room. Carved from fine wood, and covered in plush cushions of varying colours. In each sat the ambassadors from every single clan and house within the coalition.

These were the voices of Driftafay, the power of the Coalition, and Kira felt her blood running cold as so many looked down upon her. She looked back, seeing the guards who had escorted her in were all on one side of the door, out of the way, save Sunstor, who was beside her, sword in hand. On the other side were another four Evermar guards, and a fifth, dressed as them, but with no helmet. Her brown eyes simply watched Kira, her dark brown hair pulled back into a firm ponytail. Sarya, the captain of the Evermar guard. Kira swallowed, and looked all around. There were a few side doors leading out of the room, but no windows. She was in the belly of the palace.

“State your name for the council,” someone called, and when Kira looked towards the voice, she saw it was the ambassador from the Elven house of Winterstone. He tapped his fingers impatiently, and Kira cleared her throat.

“I am Kira, of Clan Cozlak. I-,” she said, and started to state her case when another spoke.

“She is the sister of Lillium,” the Cozlak ambassador said, and Kira stared at him. The bastard, living here in excess while his very own clan was running for their lives. But that her sister’s name had come up, and she was recognized gave Kira hope. Her sister was a hero.

“The very same who attacked Innisgar and burned it to the ground?” another called out.

“The same,” Wintersone growled and stared down at Kira, who felt her heart seizing and her mind whirling.

Lillium… attacked Innisgar? All the people there, those fleeing for their lives, and Lillium attacked? Reaching up and pinching her nose, Kira tried to wrap her mind around this information. It couldn’t be true, why would Lillium attack her own people?

“Look at her. She is changed, just as her sister has. She is corrupted,” someone shouted, pointing.

Was Lillium Wolfkin as well? Her mind swirled, she felt sick, lost, desperate.

“Captain Sarya. Please, execute this… corrupted sister of a traitor,” the Winterstone ambassador said, and Kira was devastated to see not one spoke out in her defense. Did not one of them know of the Wolfkin?

“The will of the council be done,” Sarya said, pulling her gorgeous sword free of its scabbard, and stepping forward. Kira’s heart pounded within her chest as she saw her doom coming closer. Then suddenly, she was calm. She glared at Sarya, feeling as if a beast within was awakening. She felt an urge, a pull.

“I. Am not. Kazdruk. I am Wolfkin,” she roared in defiance, and lashed out to the side, striking Sunstor’s face with her head. She felt his nose break, felt blood splash through her hair and down her own face. She grasped his sword, wrenching it from his fingers while he recovered from the blow.

“The Kazdruk are coming. You should find more friends, not enemies,” she shouted to the council, pulling at the chains binding her wrists together. Sarya had stopped her advance, and cautiously watched the woman, knowing she was dangerous. Sunstor shook his head and moved to lunge at Kira, but only received a sword through his chest.

Kira felt no sympathy as steel cleaved through flesh, puncturing his chest and ripping into his organs. He gasped, blood pouring from his mouth, and Ambassadors shouted in fear.

“We are allies Captain Sarya, we will see each other again soon,” she said, and took off towards one of the side doors, bashing through with her shoulder, bloodied sword in hand. The Evermar guards were chasing after her now. Their heavy boots pounded upon the fine floors of the side passages of the palace.

Kira was lost, she didn’t know where she was going. Her bare feet were quiet, but her chains rattled each time her body shifted. She shot past servants going about their day, earning a few screams, followed too closely behind when the guards barrelled past each surprised servant.

Then she saw it; glass, with daylight streaming through. She was in a hall now running along the exterior wall of the palace. With freedom in sight, she pushed herself harder, knowing that this was only the first step. She needed to find answers, and if what she heard was true… stop her sister.

“Lillium,” she whispered in pain, and leapt through the window. She felt glass tearing into her rags and flesh, saw it twinkling around her as she flew out into the air, felt the wind rushing over her as she started to descend. And realized as she fell that she was at the back of the palace, where the cliff loomed above Driftafay, and she was falling.

She was free, and the beast within her soul rose its head.

By: SinfulWolf

Unwrapping the long leather whip from around her waist, Yannifer gazed upon the bared flesh before her. The end of the whip landed on the floor with a dry slap as her tongue slowly rolled over her black painted lips, making them glisten softly in the torchlight of the throne room.

As her eyes ran over the power muscles hidden beneath the pale skin of the woman before her, she felt her pulse quicken, a heat rising between her thighs as she gripped the whip tight. Lashing out, the leather cracking against the woman’s back, the Elf slave was rewarded with a moan of pleasure that sent a shiver up her spine.

Long thin cuts streak across Lillium’s back, thin trickles of crimson curled downwards over the soft curve of her ass, dripping to her thighs glistening with her arousal. The powerful muscles beneath her skin did not tense as the whip slid across the floor before rising again and lashing out, earning another moan from the succubus’s dark lips. Her fingers curled around the top of the throne, knees settled upon the black cushions of the seat as Yannifer whipped her. Her eyes were gently closed as she savoured the exquisite pain, her flesh healing shortly after the whip opened it.

Licking her lips, Yannifer lashed out again, her stiff nipples brushing against the leather strap across her chest with each slight movement. Each crack giving her the reward of her mistress’s pleasure, which only made her all the more excited.

The door to the throne room opened, and sergeant Lorth stepped into the room, heavy boots thumping on the floor. His eyes locked onto the naked form of his mistress, kneeling upon the newly carved throne that had replaced the two of the previous rulers of the castle. Blackened wood shipped from the corrupted trees of the Tortured Sea had been carved into the seat of authority, the armrests shaped into eternally grinning skulls, the eyes slanted in menace. The back had been chiselled into wooden replicas of wings folded tightly inwards, topped with yet another skull. The old paintings had been torn down from the walls of the room, leaving behind dark red banners of the Kazdruk in their place, and obsidian statues of beautiful and naked women, bodies forever posed in seductive stances, were set in the corners.

Lillium’s eyes slowly slid open, and her tongue slid over her lips. She turned her gaze towards Lorth, who clacked his heels together and punched a fist to his chest. The succubus made no move to conceal her nudity, though she did raise her hand, two fingers extended, and Yannifer ceased her ministrations, wrapping the whip around her waist once more.

Curling in her seat, and slowly crossing her legs, she sat herself. Breasts rising and falling with each evenly drawn breath, she beckoned the Helot warrior closer. Lorth relaxed slightly as he stepped close to the throne, and stood before the succubus, the chainmail he wore rattling slightly with each movement he made.

“Did you come to ogle, or to make a report sergeant?” Lillium said, her lips curling upwards in a smirk.

“Both. The slave pits in the town square are complete and we await further instructions. Mistress Aeltha has also sent a gift; it appears to be a mirror. The messengers wished to inform you that you are to use it right away,” Lorth said with a gentle shrug.

Lillium pursed her lips as she thought for a moment before glancing towards the door that led up a spiral staircase to the top most tower of the castle, where the king and queen had once slept soundly and sure of their rule.

“Have them bring it to my chambers. As for the slaves, begin tearing down the old shops and homes for barracks. Select the most subservient to begin work on cutting wood and getting the farms up and running again, and to work the brothel. Those resisting can build under the lash… except the two nuns, they are yours to keep,” Lillium said, and Lorth grinned, saluting with fist to chest once again.

“By your will mistress,” he said and turned, starting to walk away, before Lillium called him to a halt. Stopping mid stride and turning, a look of confusion upon his face, deepening as Lillium gestured to Yannifer.

“The rank of sergeant is much too low for one of your talents, captain,” Lillium said, even as Yannifer stepped forward, holding out a black sash of heavy wool to the Helot, who took it gently in hand. For a moment he stared in disbelief, for not one of his kind had ever been given such responsibility and praise before in his lifetime.

“Find a new sergeant, find new recruits, make me proud Lorth,” Lillium said as the man slipped the sash over one shoulder, carefully pressing it across his chest.

With one final salute, he left the room, gently playing with the symbol of leadership that had not been given to a Helot in over five hundred years. He felt proud, that there might be a future for his kin after all. Above all, he knew he would burn the entire world for the woman who had given him the respect he had never seen all his long years.

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Mia cowered in the corner of the room, silently whispering prayers to herself, but no answers came to her; Oan was ashamed of her, for how she had so quickly abandoned her sisters and pushed her face between the legs of the unholy slut that had stormed their church.

The nun did not even know what had happened to her sisters after that day. They had been dragged away in chains, their hands bound, tatters of their habits scarcely clinging to their bodies, hiding nothing, as they were forced to march with all the other slaves taken that day.

Except Mia.

Mia was taken by the succubus herself, and now here she was in Lillium’s personal chambers, her habit tailored into a mockery of itself. A long slit up to her hips on either side showed her legs, long and lean from all the work she had done in and around the church, and the front had been cut wide and open to show her pert breasts. Her arms covered the cleavage now, even as she tried to whisper her prayers, ashamed of how she had been forced to dress, ashamed of how she had abandoned her sisters and given in to such wanton lewd behaviour only to save herself.

The room was dark, with only a few candles on tall metal sticks in the corner, flickering with an unearthly blue light. Despite the wind that came in through the window that made the flames flutter and flicker, she had not once seen them go out in her entire week in this room. The bed was large, covered in rich sheets of black satin, stained in spots by Lillium’s nightly activities, of which Mia always had to watch if it was not her forced to dive between her legs. She had the choice every night to receive such attentions in return, but always she declined. The nun was ashamed to admit to herself that each time became more difficult as the lust grew thick in the room and threatened to overtake her mind.

A large dresser of polished burned oak stood in the corner, holding the many dresses and garb of the succubus. A stand beside the bed held her armour, which Mia had to clean every day under threat of having her virginity taken against her will. The black metal gleamed, not a spot of blood to be found on it from the battle which now seemed a lifetime ago. A small rack by the foot of the armour would hold Lillium’s blade whenever she settled for the night, and if not for her vows, Mia would have taken it, and plunged it deep into the whore’s heart. But she had heard the tales of what happened in Innisgar, and knew it would not be enough.

Lastly was a tall mirror, slightly rounded top and bottom, the metal holding the glass in place twisted and spiked in a fashion only demons could create. It had been put in here but an hour before, and Mia had shivered as the two demons who delivered it looked upon her with a hunger that was not for whatever food these beasts consumed. They had strode in here, naked and rippling with muscle, large breasts upon their chests and massive cocks swinging between their thighs that had hardened upon seeing the nun whimpering in the corner. They did not touch her when they left, their beastly faces twisted in some fashion of a grin, made more horrible by their lack of lips and cheeks, with razor fangs within.

The last Mia saw of them was their serpentine tails, spikes lining the lengths. She had been glad to see them go, and was curious of the mirror they left in their wake. Its polished surface showed her clearly, and seeing the whorish outfit she had been made to wear, she scrambled once more to her corner, ignoring the hints of green light emerging from the glass.

Then came the clicking of bone pointed heels upon stone, a sound Mia had come to recognize very well these past few days. Lillium entered the room with her unholy grace, clad in a black backless dress, the opening dipping low enough to show the cleft of her ass, and the front parted to scarcely hold her breasts from the view of anyone who set eyes upon her, dipping just past her navel. The skirt hugged her hips, but still she seemed to glide with a sway that would stir the blood. Mia could even feel its affect upon her, and once more found herself struggling to retain her vows. This woman was the embodiment of temptation.

 The succubus warrior set her eyes briefly upon her armour, and the curl of her painted lips caused Mia to let out a sigh of relief.

“Well done sister,” Lillium purred, and while her entire time in the nunnery the word sister had carried a sense of hope and belonging for Mia, this temptress made it sound twisted, erotic, and unholy.

She said nothing else though, and turned to the mirror. Putting her hand carefully upon the surface, Mia couldn’t help but watch in wonder as green light gathered in its centre, obscuring the picture of the gorgeous woman standing before it. They swirled and pulsed, and Mia bit her lip, fearful and entranced all at once.

A hole opened in the centre of the mirror, shimmering blackness that soon faded away to show a red skinned demoness surrounded by candlelight which made her horns shimmer slightly.

“Mistress Aeltha, you wished to speak with me? I suspected you might come in person,” Lillium said to the woman on the other side of the mirror. Mia was enthralled, never before had she seen such magic.

“I am in Yuldasha’s tower at the moment, in the Tortured Sea. My talents are needed here for the moment, while you my champion, spread my will in your campaign. I have heard that you’ve taken Volgras,” Aeltha said in a tone that hovered between harsh and coddling, and while Mia was confused by it, it seemed to relax the succubus that had taken her.

“It is a good staging ground. Defensible, many routes into the interior of the continent,” Lillium replied.

“And so you’ve made yourself mistress of the castle. Once a mere warrior on the losing side, now baroness of the Kazdruk. I knew I had chosen well my dear,” Aeltha said with pride and a wicked smile.

Before Lillium could anything in thanks to her given title, the sorceress continued, brushing aside the opening conversation as if unimportant.

“Now tell me of Innisgar.”

“Fallen, its citizens put to the sword or enslaved. They have all been taken here, to Volgras. A few select for my personal pleasure, and one for your own experiments,” Lillium said, and stepped to the side.

Mia suddenly noticed that this Aeltha was now starring directly at her. For a moment she could only stare back with wide eyes, before finally averting her gaze and trying not to look upon the power she could see even through the magical mirror.

“Excellent. Enjoy your rule for the moment Lillium, I will have new instructions for you within the fortnight,” she said after a few moments of inspecting Mia. The nun had never felt so naked before in her life, never so exposed after those eyes peered into her soul, and found whatever they had been searching for.

“Of course mistress,” Lillium said with the slightest of bows.

As the magic portal closed, and Mia was left once more alone with her captor, she shuddered in fear. The succubus looked over at her, and merely grinned.

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Dangling from the wall, the manacles clamped around his wrists digging into his flesh, the cold air of the dungeons whisking across his naked flesh, Ian groaned from his sleep wrought on by pure exhaustion. Trickles of blood had run down his forearm and dried, and his arms ached from holding him up for so long. His feet had been chained tightly to the wall, just inches from the ground, preventing him from properly relaxing. A woman, clad in nothing more than a loincloth and a leather collar around her neck, came by twice a day to feed him a bitter tasting gruel.

Ian had recognized her from Innisgar, but he did not know her. She spoke not a word to him as she pushed the spoon into his mouth, and he could not muster the energy to speak to her in turn. She always held pity in her eyes when she came to him, smelling of sex, once even with a spot of cum rolling over her breast and cheek that she seemed not to notice, or if she did, not to care.

As the pain in his limbs pulled him from sleep, he heard the even sound of clicks coming down the hallway outside. He looked wearily upon the doorway, fear clutching at his gut; the woman who fed him was always so quiet in her sandaled feet, this was someone else.

With weary eyes he watched as the door swung open, and Lillium strolled in calmly, shutting the door behind herself. Once more, Ian stared in shock at the former champion, the sexuality that radiated from her form, her movements pure sensuality, the wings tucked firmly against her back, the claws tipping her fingers, and the source of the clicking: the sharp bones that jutted down from her heels.

Her lips were curled upwards in a smirk somewhere between cruel and seductive. As she walked to his side, his eyes followed her, trailing over all that was at once familiar and alien. The sway of her hips, the slight bounce of her breasts within the tight confines of her dress. Despite himself, heated memories of the pair of them in the back of the blacksmith rolled across his mind. The memory of her lips, the taste of her skin, the warmth of her cunt.

The succubus said nothing as she came ever closer, moving with agonizing slowness, letting him relive those memories. He stared in a mixture of arousal and revulsion, his cock hardening and standing straight before him, even as the image in his mind of his lover shifted to that of the demonic creature before him.

Leaning down, Lillium sniffed at his naked body, smelling his skin, her claws running along his sides. She stopped at his ear, he could feel her warm breath upon his flesh, could smell the blood, and cum that had passed her lips recently. When her tongue slithered out, running over his jaw and then his ear, he couldn’t help but shiver, though he knew not what emotion caused it.

“I can sense her on you Ian. Tell me, did you even wait for me to get to the battlefield before you fucked my sister? Did she even know me and you were lovers Ian?” she said, in a tone somewhere between purr and hiss.

The words made his back stiffen, fear once more sliding its fingers across his brain, scraping along his spine. He did not say a word, truly afraid of what this woman he had once trusted with all his soul would do to him.

She snapped her jaws inches from his face, giving him a peak of the glimmering fangs behind the glistening black gates of her lips. He wanted to scream, wanted to kiss her, wanted to grovel and apologize, wanted to stab her in her twisted black heart.

Her fingers ran down his chest, a claw gently sliding over a nipple, making him hiss in fearful anticipation. They pointed tips ran down his stomach, ghosting along his skin, and despite all the pain in his limbs, he could not deny how good the sensation felt. Next she ran a claw along the underside of his cock, stopping at the head, smiling with the points of her fangs showing, pressing gently into her lower lip. Ian felt his cock swell further, rising upwards, followed by the downward slide of that teasing claw.

“You traitorous bitch,” Ian said with a raspy voice, unable to raise the energy to yell and spit in her face.

She grabbed his balls, hard, and he groaned in pain, until she stopped and began to gently caress them.

“I am not the one who fucked the sister of my lover, without knowing her fate. Nor am I the one that stood idly by and let demons destroy the town I called home. Nor was I the one to cowardly to march off to fight. You, Ian, are the true traitor. Humanity is done, whether by the Kazdruk or the Elves. I simply chose the path that would let us live on,” she hissed, each word a stab to his heart.

“Your, sister didn’t know,” Ian said, hanging his head in shame as Lillium toyed with his cock.

“Good boy,” she said, patting his cheek, before getting to her feet. “We’ll have another chat soon enough. Then you will get a choice: enslavement, or death.”

Without another word Lillium left the room and shut the door quietly. Ian sagged his head in shame, listening to her heels click on the stones as the succubus walked away. Each of her words was a barb in his soul, and he wondered, which path would he truly prefer?

><>< 

The Baroness of Volgras smiled as she left the dungeons. Ian had believed her jealousy, and that amused her. She made her way towards the old chambers of the handmaidens, at the foot of the stairs leading to her personal chambers, thinking about what she truly intended to do to Ian. While it was fun to play with him for the moment, eventually she would need to make some kind of final decision.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she arrived at her destination. She raised her hand and knocked on the simply oak door. While those that dwelled within were her personal concubines that she could do with what she wished, Lillium preferred that they trusted her. The door opened and Yannifer offered a smile as she stepped out.

“She’s all yours mistress,” the elf purred, stepping away to leave the succubus alone with Rania.

The room was fairly simply, not yet garnished as her own was. A trio of beds, and dressers adorned the walls, with a few small mirrors for the inhabitants to view themselves. Rania sat on the edge of a bed, eyes downcast, fear and sorrow plain in her features. She did not look up as Lillium sat herself beside the woman.

“My husband is gone. Isn’t he?” she asked without shifting her gaze, though neither did she slide away from the succubus pressed against her.

“Yes. He had a quick death. He would not turn,” Lillium said, putting her hand on the woman’s thigh gently, comforting.

“Yet you did,” Rania said accusingly, and Lillium laughed, before dipping her fingers into her own cleavage and pulling out a small vial. The substance within with thick and black, streaked with a vibrant purple; a gift from Aeltha.

“Such sorrow Rania. I could ease your heart. End your suffering,” Lillium said, and held out the vial.

The woman finally looked up and looked at the offering for a moment. She said nothing as she stared, before finally reaching out and taking it. As she held it before her Lillium saw for the first time since she’d come here, some life in her eyes.

“No more pain? Will I become like you?” she asked fearfully.

“No. You will not,” Lillium assured her, and Rania slowly nodded, uncorking the vial. She had nothing left to lose, why not simply end it? She quickly drank it down, the liquid within pouring past her lips and down her throat.

Lillium watched in fascination, for surely Aeltha would want to know what happened next. For a moment, nothing happened, and Rania simply looked confused. Then a gasp slipped from her lips, and her hand went to her belly. Her breathing starting coming faster, her nipples pushing against the fabric of her dress. Lillium licked her lips at the sight, as dark veins spread upwards from under the woman’s dress.

Rania looked at the succubus, her expression unreadable, as the black reached her eyes, and the once vibrant blue turned violet. Her nostrils flared, and her tongue slipped from her mouth and ran over her lips. Soon enough, the veins faded from view, and Rania got to her feet, nearly tearing the dress from her body.

“This almost takes the fun out of it…,” Lillium muttered to herself as shreds of fabric scattered around the room, and the petite young woman stood naked before her, thighs already glistening with juices. Her eyes were ablaze with desire, and she turned to Lillium, and jumped upon the succubus, pining her to the bed.

“You…,” she started, careful with the dress, pulling it free from Lillium’s body, uncovering her pale skin, the dark nipples standing erect. As the dress fell to the floor, Rania dipped her head low, wrapping her lips around the inviting nubs, groaning as her tongue slowly ran over them in turn, her hands exploring the body of the woman who had done this to her.

Lillium did not respond to the self-interrupted question, instead groaning softly as tongue and lips played along her breasts, and fingers trailed downwards, seeking Lillium’s cunt. Rania was hungry, there was no teasing, only a quick thrust of fingers up into the succubus’s slick pussy, making Lillium groan in desire. Juices streamed over Rania’s hand and down her forearm, and she did not stop her thrusts, pushing up inside the succubus while nipping and licking at her tits.

“Good girl,” Lillium groaned, leaning her head back upon the bed as Rania gave in to all her primal desires. She wasn’t sure what that vial had done exactly, she would have to ask Aeltha next time. For the moment, she intended to simply reap the rewards. Her claws ran softly over Rania’s skin, feeling her curves, her flesh so soft beneath her touch. It made the woman groan in pleasure, as she wrapped her legs around one of the succubus’s own, and began to grind her slick cunt into Lillium’s thigh.

With ease, Lillium grasped Rania’s shoulders, and pushed her onto her back, and quickly mounted her. Looking up at the succubus, Rania let out a long moan as Lillium’s tongue slid from beneath her breast, and curved up to her nipple before flicking over the bud, all while pinning her down by her wrists. After she repeated the action on the other side, grinding softly into the woman’s lap, she looked down into Rania’s eyes.

“Welcome to my court, concubine,” the succubus purred hungrily, letting the tip of a wing dip down behind her, and prod at the woman’s entrance. Rania moaned in delight, her legs parting, and Lillium grinned as she thought of her last words to Julius, before peeling back her lips, baring her fangs.

“You’re mine,” she snarled, and lunged down towards Rania’s neck, sinking her fangs into the woman’s flesh, feeling the gush of blood into her mouth and across her tongue, breasts pushing firmly into her concubine’s.

“Yes mistress!” Rania shouted with a moan.

By: SinfulWolf

Walking to the well in the centre of Innisgar, Ian drew up a full bucket of water. Drinking deeply from the wooden vessel, he doused what was left over his head, washing away the sweat and grime in his hair and on his skin. It had been a long morning, and already his arms were sore, and his shirt stuck to his back.

Shaking his head, Ian sat on the edge of the well and rested for just a moment before he had to head back into the hot confines of his blacksmith. Leaning back and basking in this moment of calm, he noticed the gates opening, and a single man in light leather armour come rushing in, clutching at his arm.

Ian immediately sat up as he saw the soldier, one of the scouts of the Innisgar militia, and the blood coursing out from under his fingers, dripping in a trail behind him. Someone shouted for the commander, who came bursting out of his personal quarters without bothering to throw on a shirt, shaving cream still smeared over half his face.

A frown creasing his brow, Ian rose to his feet, and moved closer, trying to hear what the scout was saying that made the commander’s face turn the colour of ash. The commander turned, the conversation over before Ian could eavesdrop, and looked about to say something, when a haunting long call from a horn sounded out from the forests surrounding the town.

Ian felt his blood run cold at the long note, and knew almost instinctively that the sound he was hearing, was that of a demonic war horn.

“To the walls!” the commander shouted out, and immediately there was a flurry of activity.

Sergeants ordered troops about as those off duty threw on armour and picked up weapons as quickly as they could, moving towards the ramparts of the wooden palisade that surrounded Innisgar. Villagers were screaming in abject terror, and some of the soldiers began urging them back into their homes where it would be safest.

“Ian what’s happening?” Rania said, clutching at her dress until her knuckles were white. Ian spun when he heard her voice, not knowing she had been standing there.

“Get to the blacksmith and hide. They’re coming,” he urged her, feeling his heart twinge as he saw the look of terror across her face. She didn’t ask who he meant, or even fight his suggestion. She simply turned and ran as fast as she could across the courtyard towards the blacksmith, slamming the door behind her.

A loud roar sounded from beyond the wall. There must have been at least a hundred of them out there, and archers upon the walls started to loose their arrows out towards the enemy. Ian watched, entranced by the opening salvos of the battle, the calm movements and actions of the soldiers. There was hope after all.

Then the first soldier fell.

There was no scream as he toppled from the rampart, clutching at the arrow burrowed into his neck, blood gushing out from around the shaft as his body smacked hard onto the ground. Ian rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, trying to stifle the flow of crimson. The man died in his arms as a scream of agony sounded above him.

A great crash sounded from the gate, and Ian looked up to see it starting to buckle. They had a ram at the gates, they were going to get through. He trembled upon his knees, until a scream from the north wall grasped his attention.

A gorgeous and terrible woman was upon the walls, large wings spread out behind her in her fine black armour, blood already spattered across her face and cleavage as she dropped the head of her kill to the ground.

Getting numbly to his feet Ian stared at the succubus as demonic soldiers climbed onto the wall beside her. She butchered the soldiers on the wall with quick skilled slashes of her blade, before she looked across the courtyard to where Ian stood. The blacksmith locked gazes with her, and felt his heart drop.

“No, Gods no,” he whimpered, almost in a sob, and even from this distance, he could see Lillium’s evil smirk.

><>< 

The horn called out, and the attack had begun. Lillium knew her soldiers would do their jobs well though she could not see them on the other side of the town. Sergeant Lorth led those soldiers, and he was skilled, competent, and intelligent. He would get the gates down, and provide enough distraction for Lillium and ten other Helots to get in through the side.

As the sounds of battle reached her ears, she burst out from the tree line and rushed towards the wall. One of the guards turned from watching the battle unfold and spotted her as her wings spread out behind her. The young man’s eyes went wide with fear as the succubus jumped up into the air, and beat down with her wings, lifting her upwards, landing atop the wall before the terrified soldier.

A scream of fear came from beside her as she grasped the militia man’s head, and swung her sword in a broad arc, neatly severing skull from shoulders in a spurt of deliciously hot blood that splashed across her skin. A tingle ran through her body as she felt droplets of crimson rolling down between her breasts while the headless corpse fell from the ramparts leaving her holding her grisly trophy by the tuft of hair.

Helots began to clamber up beside her as she looked across Innisgar, seeing the fear choked villagers fleeing into their homes, desperate to get away. Dropping the head to bounce across the platform beneath her feet, she quickly turned and lashed out at the other few soldiers left to defend this part of the wall, cutting them down in sprays of blood. Savouring the kills, she looked towards the western gate, and saw one man standing with bloodied hands. She saw his lips move as she met his eyes, and she smirked. Ian’s time would come soon enough.

As she began to make her way along the ramparts, the blacksmith ran, almost in a stumble towards a low building with a thick chimney pouring smoke into the sky. She would find him later, for now, she had a battle to win.

The front gates smashed open in a shower of splinters, the wooden doors swinging wide open for the Helots to charge through with their swords and shields. Rushing inside they began to hack down upon the defenders, spilling their blood. Lillium jumped down from the walls, landing gracefully on her heeled boots, and strode into the courtyard. A man with a half shaven face, and hastily donned armour shouted orders to soldiers, trying to establish a rally within the centre of the town.

“Come hero, end this,” Lillium yelled out to him, and the militia commander turned to her. There was no fear on his face, only determination. Lillium liked him, a brave man, a soldier to his core; she would give him a quick death.

Behind her, helots lit torches, and began setting flames to the homes of the town, while Lillium and the commander approached one another with drawn swords. He bled from a cut on the side of his head, but he ignored it as he lunged for the succubus once she was close enough. There would be no traded words here, just one warrior against another. It excited the succubus as she deflected the lunge and swung towards the man’s neck.

The man blocked, the ring of steel upon steel sounding out in the centre of the courtyard as town militia clashed with demonic helots around them. Steel plunged into flesh, and blood flowed like rivers while smoke poured into the sky above. Screams sounded shrilly through the town as homes burned, and the people who hid were dragged from their homes, shackles and iron collars slapped upon them.

The battle was not even finished and already the first slaves were being dragged out through the ruined gates, while commander fought commander. Succubus against man as they danced their deadly ballet of clashing steel.

A human archer, limping from a open wound across his thigh, pushed away the dead Helot that had deliver the spear thrust. Pulling an arrow from his quiver, he glanced once at the other approaching demons, with their square shields and notched swords as they marched towards him, blood glinting off their armour under sunlight and crackling fires that spread amongst the town. The archer let his eyes trail away from them to his commander, and the gorgeous woman he fought against. Her terrible beauty sent shiver’s up his spine, and a stirring in his loins. She, was dangerous.

Drawing his bow back, he lined up upon her, waiting for the perfect shot while the rest of her soldiers advanced upon him. He just needed to remove her, and he let his finger release the bowstring.

Lillium felt the arrow hit her in the chest, plunging into her right breast, missing the metal of her corseted cuirass. As the steel point drove through her flesh, the commander smirked, looking about to strike, until he heard the moan slip from his opponent’s black lips.

As she straightened from the impact, her own dark blood trickling from the wound in her chest, the succubus grinned upon the commander, who yelled out in fear and fury as he rushed towards her. He brought his sword down again and again while an ache grew in his wrist and forearm. Lillium didn’t back away as she deflected each strike perfectly, until she slipped away and lopped off his hand at the wrist.

The commander screamed in agony as he clutched at the bleeding stump, trying to stifle the blood flow, the jagged ends of his bones jabbing into his remaining palm. With a single hand, Lillium forced the aging man to his knees, and he looked up at her.

“I’ll give you nothing bitch,” he growled, before spitting at her. The succubus let out a sigh, and looked up. She could not see the man who shot her, presumably he was dead, or he had run. Reaching up to the arrow in her flesh, she grasped the shaft firmly and began to pull. The commander stared, as she moaned hungrily while she pulled the projectile from her breast, tearing through her until she pulled it free. Blood and strings of tissue hung from the tip as she tossed the arrow to the ground, and the hole it left in its wake sealed over, leaving only the blood smeared across her pale skin.

Trailing around behind the man before her, the claws of her gauntlets trailing along his cheek, she stopped behind him.

“No. You wouldn’t, but you have fought well, honourably. So I give you this one gift,” she said, before kneeling down behind him. He felt her hand running down his side, the swell of her breasts against his back, before her tongue softly touched his ear, and her lips grazed against his flesh.

“A quick death for you, and those under your command,” Lillium purred softly, before nipping gently at his ear. She rose to her feet, hand resting on his shoulder as she set the tip of her blade against the back of his neck.

The commander bent his head forward, and whispered a prayer to Oan. When he fell silent, he placed his hands upon his knees, and Lillium plunged her sword downwards.

><>< 

A log fell within the fire, sending up a shower of sparks into the crisp air. The sun was very nearly on the horizon, just about to vanish before the coming of the moon and the revelation of the stars, and so Kira and the band guiding her had stopped for the night.

The four of them sat around the fire, the two archers cooking meat while the man who had spoken to her the day before gently blew into a flute, causing soft music to curl through the clearing where they had set up camp for the night.

Kira idly poked at the fire with a stick, her tail idly flicking behind her, ignoring the gazes of the two archers, before turning to face the flute player.

“Thaden. You seem to be taking the death of your friends rather well,” she said, trying to find some common ground with this man.

The rogue grinned playfully, blowing a few more soft notes before letting the flute drop from his lips. He looked over the wolf like woman beside him, and slid his flute into the small bag that hung from his hip.

“We were never truly friends. Just compatriots who were forced from home for one reason or another, and decided to carve out some semblance of life by stealing and murdering. I have never had much use for the law, and while not everyone deserves what we did, I’m sure some did,” Thaden said with a shrug before leaning back, folding his arms behind his head.

“That man would have killed me if it meant a good profit. As it stood, keeping me around made him more coin. What he would spend it on, I don’t know, but damn if the stuff didn’t look good in chests back at our camp, or tucked into the bosom of a busty whore before she sat on our faces,” he said with a grin, and Kira shook her head.

“Class act,” she muttered.

“No, but it’s fun. And a whore has to make money more than any noble,” Thaden replied with a shrug.

“So your a hero, against the oppression of the nobility,” Kira said dryly, and let out a short snort of laughter, tossing her stick into the fire while her eyes met the two men across the flames from her. They averted their gazes, and looked down into the wooden bowls that they ate from.

“I’m sure to some I am, but mostly I’m just a horny man, whose good with a flute and his cock, and I like money and booze and cunt,” he said, pulling a gold coin from his purse, rolling it across his knuckles.

“Though, I am a good friend to those I count among my friends, and as much as it may grieve my companions, you are dangerously close to becoming my friend. I like you wolf girl. You’re sexy, dangerous, and focused. I must say I appreciate tales of heroic deeds, but I have to warn you against your course of action,” the rogue said, and his tone grew serious.

“You’re not going to dissuade me. I need to get to Driftafay,” she said.

“And find the Elves to get a home for your people under their protection. I know, and truly it is the best for your people… but not for you. You may be beautiful, but the elves will look upon you as a danger to them. Their magic cannot create warriors born of nature, and their temples will look upon you as blasphemy. A joining of nature and the savagery of man. To them, such a union cannot exist. You will save your people, but damn yourself,” Thaden said.

“Then it will be worth everything,” Kira said, ignoring the two men across from her as they finished their meals, and wandered off to their individual tents, leaving Thaden and her alone by the fire.

“I do envy you Kira. I sometimes wish my heart were so noble that I could be such a character that they sing of in songs and hopeless men speak of in their mugs to bring some kind of light to their dreary lives. But I am not… though I could make such a thing of you,” he said, and Kira laughed.

“I can picture it now. The ever beautiful Kira the Wolfkin, leading her people to a bright future despite the end that awaits herself. Noble, kind of heart, and deadly in battle. She would be a beacon of light to those who dread the invading Kazdruk… and you will be,”  Thaden laughed gently, then glanced towards his tent.

“But, we have a long way to go until Driftafay, and I intend to get some sleep before waking up at the ogreish hour needed to make decent time.

Kira watched him walk towards his small tent and duck within, even as she felt an animalistic stirring between her legs. She frowned, forcing her eyes away from Thaden’s tent to glance into the fire. For the first time since leaving Innisgar, she felt fear.

><>< 

Lillium grinned as she licked blood from the claws of her gauntlet, all while leaning against the holy altar of Innisgar’s church. Save her boots and gauntlets, her armour was neatly placed upon the altar, resting in the blood of the high priest of the town, whose body was slumped unceremoniously still clutching his holy book on the other side.

Soft moans slipped from the succubus’s lips, as her free hand pushed the head of one of the Oan nuns to her cunt. The young woman, still a virgin no doubt, timidly ran her tongue over Lillium’s entrance and upwards to her clit, while the succubus ground against her inexperienced mouth.

“Living with no one but women, I thought you’d be much better at this. Perhaps I should just give you to my troops after all,” Lillium growled hungrily, earning a squeal of fear from the nun. The woman’s arms launched up, grasping at the demon’s ass and pressed her face tighter between the succubus’s thighs. Her tongue darted desperately between Lillium’s nether lips, drawing forth hungry moans despite her lack of skill.

“Good girl,” Lillium purred, easing the pressure on the nun’s head, and pulled back the hood of her habit, and began to stroke her dark brown hair, letting the woman’s own fear and desperation keep her tongue and lips working.

The succubus let her fingers trail through the woman’s locks as she looked up around the church. Blood was spattered all across the pews, and corpses were sprawled amongst the pews; those last few who had sought sanctuary in the house of their God. When Lillium had kicked down the doors and her helots went to work, she had walked through the slaughter and butchered the priest before finding the three nuns cowering in the corner.

Now one was between her legs, another pressed against the wall, her habit torn away so only a few shreds hung off one shoulder as a helot ravaged her from behind. Her hands scratched at the wall, breasts rubbing against the stone walls beneath the shattered pane of stained glass as she grunted while a cock plunged into her ass again and again.

The last of the nuns was on her hands and knees, her eyes locked on her sister who had willingly crawled to Lillium to escape the savagery of the helots. Her habit was torn away from the waist, and another of the demonic soldiers fucked her from behind, grunting in pleasure as he slid within her, but she made not a sound, glaring at her sister’s betrayal.

Lillium grinned at the sight, and bit her lip, putting on a show for the angry nun upon all fours.

One of the doors fell from its hinges as sergeant Lorth walked into the church. His eyes swept over the scene quickly as he moved towards Lillium, and the succubus smirked at the sight of glistening juices around his maw.

“Mistress. The slaves are all rounded up and in chains. We are ready to depart on your word,” he reported with a low bow.

“Excellent. And of the two I specified?” she asked quizzically.

“The ones called Ian, and Rania have been separated, and are already being delivered to the dungeons as you commanded mistress,” he reported, and Lillium nodded, before forcing the nun between her legs away from her cunt, and dragged her to her feet.

The succubus hungrily kissed the nun, whose eyes went wide in surprise as the demon’s tongue slithered between her lips, while Lillium groaned at the taste of her own flavour. When she broke the kiss, she slapped the nun’s ass.

“And you my pet, are coming with me,” she purred, her fingers curling tightly in her flesh. The nun’s cheeks burned deep red, and she could not bring herself to look upon her sisters.

“As for the other two… do with them what you will sergeant,” Lillium said, indicating the other two.

Lorth grinned hungrily, punching a fist to his chest.

“Happily mistress.”

By: SinfulWolf

An owl hooted in the distance, somewhere amidst the trees that surrounded the small town of the Cozlak clan, at the foot of the hill holding high Castle Volgras. The castle of their now dead king, his rotting head shoved upon a pike in the Atzgol plains, loomed atop a hill. The clan had been in danger of assimilation of the other Kings and Lords of the coalition for years now, the Kazdruk forces simply beat them to it.

Lillium smiled as she walked down the main street, heels clicking upon the cobblestone. Yannifer skulked behind her, garbed in black leather straps wrapped around her chest, offering peaks of her skin between them. More straps formed a dress of sorts down to her knees, before the heeled leather boots that had been given to her started. The elf glanced towards the abandoned homes now being ransacked by Kazdruk helots.

The hunched, gray skinned demonic soldiers were under Lillium’s command now, one hundred and fifty of them. A gift from her mistress to do her bidding. One of the creatures moved up to her, bright yellow eyes peering out from under a thick hairless brow, boney spikes running down the length of his jaw from behind his short pointed ears. Dark gray hair ran down to his shoulders, unkempt and greasy, and glancing downwards, Lillium noted the erection pushing at the loincloth hanging from his dark steel armour.

“They took much of value. There is little left for pillage,” the helot growled in his deep voice.

Before Lillium could respond, Yannifer grasped the whip that was curled around her waist, and struck the helot harshly across the face, splitting his flesh and making him stumble backwards.

“You will use the proper respect when addressing our mistress,” the Elf snarled, venom dripping from her words as she struck again, sending the helot falling backwards to the ground, arm raised to try and protect his face, only earning lashes across his forearm instead.

Lillium watched without emotion as her soldier was flogged, instead letting her hand slide up over the curve of her slave’s ass as she punished the soldier, fingers moving from leather to skin with the motion. A shiver of delight slid up Yannifer’s spine at her mistress’s touch, and she whipped harder, making the helot scream out in pain. Others were watching from the empty doorways, shaking their heads slowly.

Finally Yannifer ceased, and slowly wrapped her whip around her waist once again, and Lillium smiled. She had told her before they left Thorlgruz that the elf would not feel the pleasure of her mistress without hurting at least one person a day. Yannifer now searched out for any lapse in discipline to punish, to get her reward.

Aeltha eagerly awaited to see how long until inflicting pain became Yannifer’s reward instead of the sex, and had demanded Lillium record the elf’s descent into sadism.

“Take what you will, and set up camp. I need twenty volunteers to come with me to the castle,” Lillium shouted loudly, ignoring the injured helot near her feet who dragged himself away whimpering. On the horizon lightning flashed across the sky and the gathered dark clouds crept forward upon the wind. The rumble of distant thunder rolled over the town and the gathered company of demonic soldiers.

She watched those around her pondering the order, talking quietly amongst themselves. She sensed confusion, and fear; she had never asked for volunteers before. After just a few moments, twenty helots stepped forward, no more and no less, lest they suffer Yannifer’s wrath for disobeying. The mail hanging off their shoulders rattled slightly with their movements, and Lillium looked them over with the barest of smirks.

“Sergeant Lorth. Make sure the company is prepared to march at dawn, you have free reign of whatever remains in this shithole,” Lillium commanded, and turned on her heel, beckoning for her twenty volunteers and Yannifer to follow her.

Pulling their packs back on, and resting their spears over their shoulders, they all marched the sloped road through the town, up towards the castle. Lillium looked over the buildings that they passed by, and felt nothing within her heart. Despite the fact that she had grown up in this town, had been raised with her sister in the house they were just passing, a broken lamp smashed open on the front porch, she felt no stirrings of nostalgia. Her memories held no light or happiness.

A small frown creased her brow as she pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. The past was where it belonged; behind her. She was something else entirely now, her mistress had seen to that, had shown her the lies of the Coalition, and the vile hypocrisy of the Elves.

The march continued on towards the castle, and Lillium saw it as a conqueror, not a returning hero. She felt rain fall over her from the sky, rolling over her skin and glinting on her armour. Her world had truly changed, and she liked the change.

><>< 

The sound of the iron hammer smashing down upon red hot steel rang through the enclosed back room of the Innisgar blacksmith as Ian worked away at another short sword for the local militia. With the Kazdruk forces encroaching ever closer, they were happy for the extra steel.

As sweat ran down his face and under the thick leather apron draped over his shoulders to fall over his chest. Memories of the town nestled beneath Castle Volgras ran across his mind. The happiness of better times, before the Kazdruk had arisen and landed upon the beaches and started marching outwards, further inland. Corrupting, torturing, killing all along the way, leaving twisted ruins in their wake, and shattered souls.

Letting out a long sigh as he hammered the sword into shape, Ian thought of the battle of the Atzgol plains. Where good King Thorlan and all his army were slaughtered. At least, he hoped they were slaughtered; he found it too painful to consider that they were not dead but instead ravaged and tortured by the demons. It left the clan in shatters, and they had fled their home, leaving Queen Jella behind, who in her grief refused to believe her husband would not return home to her.

And brave Lillium, marching near the head of the army, not far behind the king, sword at her hip, the hunger for battle in her eyes as she rode away to war once more. A veteran of bloodshed, and a lover of great passion. Ian smiled as he thought of her returning from battle, slipping into the blacksmith late in the night when all others were fast asleep. How she slipped from her armour, and pushed him against the wall, taking him inside her, her lips exploring his flesh.

Plunging the red hot steel into the trough of water, steam hissing upwards and coiling around the beams of the ceiling before pouring out through the small high upon the walls into the night air, Ian hung his head low. He had taken Kira, his lover’s sister, and now prayed that Lillium was one of those laying dead upon the battlefield, ones bleaching beneath the sun.

“I am sorry,” he whispered into the still air.

Lifting the sword from the trough, he inspected the blade, watching droplets of water roll down the steel. As he watched the water, he felt fatigue finally settling into his muscles, and he set the sword aside. As he doused the flames of the furnace letting him hear the falling rain that pelted the earth outside, he heard soft footsteps outside, giving him just enough time to turn as the door swung open.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” asked the slim woman standing in the open doorway, water dripping from the cloak pulled firmly against her shivering form.

“Kira left to ensure our future, Rania,” Ian said gently. He knew why the poor woman could not sleep anymore; her husband Julius had left with the army. She had loved him deeply, and Ian saw the pain in her eyes, and had heard her whispered prayers when she thought no one was listening. The same conflicted prayers that Kira and even Ian himself said into the dark of the night. Was Julius given a quick death, or was he enslaved and tortured?

“That’s what Julius said,” Rania said quietly, lowering  her head and turning, slipping back out into the rain, leaving Ian alone with his worries.

“Gods above Kira, be safe,” he said, tilting his head up to speak unto the heavens.

><>< 

Hiking northwards along a well worn road, Kira hugged her cloak tight around her, more to cut away the wind, for at this point the rain had soaked through the fabric. The grand trade city of Driftafay, the beacon of culture and trade and politics for all the Coalition was still a few days travel, and getting through this forest was the quickest way.

Were time not against her, Kira would have skirted it, for tales of bandits and ghosts were told above a mug of ale in all the surrounding villages, including her own home of Volgras. Her old home anyway. Now here she was, pushing through where she had never dared tread before, knowing there was more truth to those tales than simple fear, looking for a new home.

Her ears twitched, the fur brushing the side of her head, as she heard something rustling in the leaves, and the stretching of a bow. She sniffed at the air, and could smell the rank sweat of men who had been living in the woods for too long with no opportunity to bathe. The hint of well oiled steel and old worn leather. The smell of beer on more than one of her stalker’s breath.

“I know you’re there,” she called out into the woods, and was rewarded with two men stepping out from the bushes onto the road. She could smell three more still hidden, could hear their slight movements.

“And yet you still approach. Alone. Armed true, but there’s only one of you, and two of us,” the man said, toying with a long dagger, his friend idly tapping an axe against the side of his leg.

“Five,” Kira said flatly, and the man rose an eyebrow.

“Impressive. Doesn’t mean your getting out of here without paying us. Flesh, blood, or coin,” he said with a shrug.

“Sorry darling. We’ve got needs as well,” the second man said, lifting his axe, and resting it over his shoulder. A smirk spread across his features as he started making his way forward, thumb resting in the waistband of his pants. The first man, toying with a short sword, stayed where he was. He frowned as he watched his partner move and looked over his shoulder.

“Typical. You’ll be the first to die,” Kira said, sliding her blade from its scabbard and starting to walk forward. The steel glimmered faintly as it moved, and the man’s smile vanished as the woman rushed towards him.

His axe had hardly left his shoulder to get ready to swing when Kira leapt into the air, and jammed her sword forward. The steel point plunged into the man’s chest, piercing his heart and lung, and sending him down to his knees drowning in his own blood.

Ears picking up the twang of a bowstring, Kira rolled to the side, leaving her sword buried in the man’s chest, but grasping his axe as she moved across the ground. The arrow landed in the dirt where she had been just a second before, quivering in the earth.

Rising to her feet, Kira swung the axe over her head and let her fingers uncurl from the shaft, sending it flying into the trees from where she had heard the sound, from where she could smell the sweat of a man. A wet crunch sounded from behind the branches, and a body fell from its concealment, smashing hard into the ground, spraying blood across the ground.

Moving quickly to her first kill Kira pulled the sword free, but paused when she started to hear applause. Turning her head, she saw the first man clapping his hands together, sword sheathed at his hip. With her eyes darting to where she knew the others were hiding, Kira pointed her sword at the bandit.

“Oh there’s no need for that I think. You’ve impressed me, once again. And though one of us will kill you, I just don’t feel like risking my life on the change I’m wrong. So, take what you will from his body, and we’ll take you through the forest. It’ll keep the rest of the boys from jumping down on you,” the man said.

Kira stared hard at the man, wondering what angle he was trying to pull. She sniffed the ear, and smirked. Fear, oh this man was terrified of her.

“Deal,” she said with a grin.

><>< 

Queen Jella’s handmaidens screamed in terror as her guards were butchered by the Helot soldiers charging into the throne room. They reeled against the back wall, trying to keep themselves as small and hidden as possible, while their lady, the queen herself, sat without flinching upon her throne while black steel hacked through armour and into flesh and bone.

As the guards fell to the ground, blood pooling around their bodies, the Helots all grinned at the queen’s beauty, wanting to tear silk from flesh, and plunge themselves within her.

“Hold!” Lillium shouted as she entered the room.

The Helots grunted their displeasure at the order, but pulled back and formed two lines leading towards the throne. Even the handmaidens had stopped screaming, though Lillium could still hear their whimpers as she stepped over a corpse, her heeled boot tracking blood with her movements down towards the queen.

Jella’s face turned from stoic determination to shock when she saw the succubus strolling towards her. Lillium smirked, then glanced at the two hand maidens.

“I have no need of them. Do what you will. This castle is yours to loot,” she told her troops, who all snorted and grinned, tusk like teeth poking out into the air as they scrambled forward.

The two women screamed again as they were dragged from the room, long shreds of their clothing torn away and left in their wake. Lillium’s eyes moved from the doorway where the last of the Helots had vanished, and glanced back to where Yannifer stood with crossed arms.

“Lil… Lillium? What-,” Jella tried to speak, but the succubus quickly backhanded her, the edge of her gauntlet splitting her cheek open and spattering blood across the arm rest of the throne. Now the queen recoiled, pulling back  against the throne, staring upwards in fear.

“I once thought you a strong and noble queen. But you are meek, and cowardly, like all other royals. Letting Elves track all over us, feeding us to what you said were our enemies. But, the demons are not, as your hand maidens will soon discover,” Lillium growled, and licked her lips, and Yannifer chuckled softly while her mistress slowly pulled her blade free.

“Lillium, what happened to you… what you doing?” Jella whimpered as the sword raised up above her.

The succubus grinned. “Revenge,” was all she said, before the sword came down onto the neck of Lillium’s former queen. Skin easily split open before its descent, and blood sprayed outwards until steel sliced through muscle and crashed through spine, and came out the other side.

Jella’s head rolled off her shoulders, smearing sticky crimson down her beautiful blue gown, and off the edge of the throne. It bounced once off the stone floor with a wet smack before coming to a stop against Lillium’s boot. Reaching down, the succubus grasped the severed head by long silken hair, stuck together in strands by her own blood.

As she lifted, the small crown of her position fell from Jella’s head and rattled on the floor. Lillium turned and began to stalk towards a set of double doors that would open to a balcony overlooking the village below. She vaguely remembered standing out there before with the queen, telling her how she would keep her husband safe.

Before she learned what a coward and traitor to humanity he had truly been.

“Carve out her heart Yannifer. I would feast well tonight,” Lillium said over her shoulder before she pushed the large doors open.

Rain coursed down over her form, running over her skin, under her armour. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky as the succubus moved to the edge of the balcony, where long spikes poked upwards from the stone, from times long past when the kings had planted the heads of their enemies here. Jella and Thorlan had been thinking of removing them, to dispel the history of such barbarity.

Jamming Jella’s head down upon one of the spikes, Lillium grinned, and looked down over her old home, from the balcony her new home. Castle Volgras was due for some redecoration.

By: SinfulWolf

Sweat ran down Lillium’s back, trickling between her wings and glistening on her pale skin. With damp hair clinging to her skin, her head tilted back as she let out her hungry moans to the stone ceiling of her bed chambers, the succubus let her hips rise and fall. The slave beneath her grunted, his cock delving into the hot, wet depths of his mistress’s cunt, hands firm on her hips, feeling the motions beneath his palms.

The human’s face was a mask of ecstasy, a swirling mixture of pleasure as his length was taken into the demon above him, and pain as Lillium’s talons dug furrows down his chest. Crimson trickled over his toned form, rolling down to the sheets of the succubus’s bed. He couldn’t take his eyes from her form, the toned muscles moving beneath perfect skin, the bounce of her breasts each time she descended, the dark nipples contrasting with alabaster flesh.

Black lips were parted, letting her moans spill out into the room, the glimmer of her fangs behind those delectable petals enchanting and terrifying all at one.

Lillium turned her body, and stared at the young elf woman by the door. She pointed with a bloodied talon at the girl, nude save the violet loin cloth that hung over her nethers.

“Come here,” the succubus growled, and the woman nodded, moving forward towards her mistress.

Lillium’s fingers slipped into the blonde locks of the Northern Elf, entwining within her hair and pulling her closer harshly. Succubus pressed her lips firmly to the elf slave’s, thrusting her tongue into her mouth, groaning as her hips continued to roll and rise upon the man below her.

The Elf melted into the kiss, her soul twisted and torn to the wills of the demons so that she now gave herself fully to her mistress. She wrapped one arm around the succubus, holding herself close, pressing herself to the woman who owned her body and mind. She was pulled onto the bed, on her knees, her thighs grazing against the man’s, her loincloth brushing over his skin, making him hiss and grunt in pleasure at the soft caress.

The elf lets her hand grasp Lillium’s breast, squeezing the soft flesh hard for a moment, before drifting downwards, across the rigid lines of her abs, and down between her thighs. The slaves toys with her mistress’s clit, pressing and pinching it, her fellow slaves cock brushing against the tips of her fingers. He grunted in need, watching the scene above him, the dance of lips and tongue between the two gorgeous women.

Throwing his head back onto the soft down pillow beneath him, the man grunts, his cock throbbing and pumping his seed into his mistress. The succubus groans lustfully, feeling the cum spewing into her, the sexual energy in the room swirling through her soul, feeding her, nourishing her more than any food.

Lillium though does not stop her hips, though the man’s limp cock slides from her cunt. Her slick entrance grinds along his length as her other slaves pushes her further forward into the cloud of ecstasy. Her talons dig deeper into the man’s chest, as his cock begins to stiffen once again, and she pulls harder on the Elf’s hair.

The smell of sex fills the room, the essence of it fills Lillium’s mind and soul, and she reaches her orgasm with a thundering onslaught of pleasure. She presses her lips harder against the Elf’s, thrusting her tongue down her throat, tasting her intimately as her juices cascade over the man beneath her.

Still the succubus did not cease, forcing the slaves to guide her through climax, drawing as much energy as she could, until finally she came down from her sexual high. Panting, breasts heaving with each breath, Lillium stared at her little elf slave. She crawled off the man, and moved across the room to where a tub awaited her, filled with steaming hot water.

“Leave now,” she commanded the man, who wasted no time in departing, a look of fear on his face, matched by the remaining Elf.

“You have done well. I think I will keep you for myself until I bore of you. What is your name pet?,” Lillium said, as she slid slowly into the water, groaning as the heat washed over her body, into her muscles.

“Thank you mistress. Yannifer Mistress,” the Elf says with a bow.

“Get over here and wash me, then get my clothes ready,” Lillium snapped at her slave, who immediately bounds over to her to fulfill her wishes.

Closing her eyes and relaxing in the tub, Lillium wondered how she could have ever fought against this.

><>< 

The crack of the whip sounded through the main room of the desecrated cathedral. The man strapped to the side of the once holy altar, forced to his knees, let out a scream of pain as the leather licked across his back, splitting his skin. His face, contorted with pain, went unseen by his tormentor.

Yannifer held the whip in her hand, seeing what she had just done to the very same man she had seen being ridden by her mistress scarcely an hour before. Now here he was, being punished by Yannifer’s hand, as Lillium leaned against the half naked slave. The succubus had dressed herself, in beautiful silk garments that clung to her form but hardly hid a thing. Breasts pushed firmly against Yannifer’s back, stiffened nipples pushing against silk covers and rubbing against the slave’s skin. It was Lillium’s fingers though, not the ones grasping her breast, but the ones buried between her thighs, plunging into her depths, that made her moan.

“You enjoy this, don’t you slut?” Lillium snarled into her pet’s ear, making her groan, juices sliding down over the talons buried in her snatch.

“Strike him again,” Lillium commanded, her tongue sliding up the pointed ear, before gently biting it.

Yannifer groaned in pleasure, and did not hesitate as she raised the whip, and struck the man before her, who screamed again. Her mistress’s thrusting fingers made it hard to think of his screams, his agony, and her mind just swirled around the pleasure of this moment.

“You know why he deserves this?” Lillium snarled, her fangs drawing a small bead of blood at the tip of Yannifer’s ear, and she shuddered in ecstasy.

“Y-yes Mistress,” she admitted, as she was forced to strike the man once again., the whip cracking through the empty cathedral floor as the man screamed out his agony once more. His back now a bloody mess of torn flesh.

“Say it then,” came the sensual breath of command that Yannifer had no will to ignore as fingers drove faster into her cunt, curling within her, stroking the lust and sin and burying the guilt of her eagerness to leave her people behind; all to serve the very woman who had slain her friends.

“He, failed to pleasure you properly. He took his own needs before your own,” Yannifer stammered as Lillium squeezed her breast, talons digging into the soft flesh. She could feel the succubus’s breath on her ear, sending her deeper into her need to bow down.

“Good pet. Let his pain be a lesson for you,” Lillium hissed, her tongue sliding out over the broken skin of the elf’s ears as her claws raked down from breast to stomach. Long bloodied lines followed in the wake of her talons, and even if she wanted to anymore, Yannifer could not stop the moan that slipped from her lips.

The clack of claws upon stone caught Lillium’s attention, and she turned her head to find Aeltha standing by one of the long broken pews where the faithful had once prayed. There were none now to be found within Thorlgruz, for even the taken slaves soon lost their faith as their demonic keepers broke their wills.

“This is one of your pets from the Elvish raid?” Aeltha asked, and Lillium grinned at the sight of her mistress’s cock pushing at the loincloth hanging gently from her hips.

“It is mistress,” she purred, digging her fingers deeper into Yannifer’s twat, and the slave groaned, whipping the bound man once again, earning another scream that actually sent a shiver up the Elf’s spine. She bit her lip, staring at the torn flesh before her.

“Only one week, and already a slick cunt for your touch Lillium. Well done my champion,” Aeltha said, stepping closer and stroking her slut’s cheek.

“Now, do join me for feasting.”

Lillium nodded and slowly pulled her talons from within Yannifer’s pussy, offering the tips to the quickly fallen elf. Yannifer sucked on each hungrily, groaning as she tasted herself on her mistress’s claws. Then Lillium pulled away, leaving Yannifer with a look of loss for a moment.

“Continue,” the succubus gestured towards the bound man, before turning away and following Aeltha into the centre of the room, where a pair of slaves had dragged a table and a pair of chairs. Both demons sat across from each other as goblets full of blood and cum were set before them. Lillium waited until Aeltha picked up her own drink, before savouring the sinful delight of the offering.

As mistress and champion discussed small happenings around Thorlgruz, the cracks of the whip continued, the screams of pain filling the cathedral. It was not long before plates of raw meat, bowls of juicy berries, and an offering of bread was laid out for the two Succubi.

As they began to eat, Aeltha smirked.

“Scouts have found the remains of your clan,” Aeltha said, as she bit one of the overly large hellina berries in half. The dark purple juices sprayed down across the red skin of her chin, and she smiled.

“They are not my clan. They are foolish enough to trust elves, and so I will make them burn. They are weak,” Lillium said with a snarl, taking a bite out of a small slab of meat. Blood ran down her chin, and dribbled into her cleavage, even staining the silk garb she wore.

Aeltha laughed gently, and looked over to wear Yannifer whipped the nameless slave.

“And yet you have one doing your dirty work for you,” she said teasingly, and at this Lillium couldn’t help but laugh.

“She will not be an elf for much longer at this rate. I know she is a subject in your experiments. I’m simply… aiding,” the warrior smirked, and ran a slice of bread across her cleavage to gather some of the spilled blood, before gently biting in. Aeltha watched intently for a moment.

“Good. I want you to take her with you to the town of Innisgar. Many of the Cozlak are in hiding there. Use Yannifer to get the information you need from them. Where the rest of them are, what the Elves are plotting. Hunt down and enslave, or butcher your old kin folk Lillium, and come one step closer to vengeance,” Aeltha said.

Lillium grinned sadistically.

><>< 

Kira awoke from another nightmare and sat up in bed panting, drenched in a cold sweat. The morning sunlight streamed in through the glassless window of her room, and made her skin glisten softly.

Her movements caused the figure beside her to shift, and Ian leaned up, propping himself on an elbow, as his free hand gently ran over his lover’s form, down to her thighs still sticky from the night. With a long sigh Kira laid back down, and let Ian continue to run his finger tips along her form.

“Another nightmare of Lillium?” he asked with concern before gently kissing her shoulder, his cock hardening against her hip.

“Yes. They’re getting worse. I wish I knew what happened to her, just for closure,” Kira said as she slid her fingertips down Ian’s chest.

“We’ll find out some day,” Ian said softly, and Kira nodded, before sliding atop her lover, grinding against his crotch, her tail sliding over his thighs. She was slick, and sticky, and Ian grasped her hips, letting his eyes move up past her breasts to her face. They stared at each other a moment before both let out a long sigh and Kira climbed off the blacksmith who continued to watch her.

“You still intend to leave then?”

“I need to find Telva Winterstone. No other human clan would take in a bunch of broken refugees, but one of the Elven houses might, and the Winterstone are said to be one of the friendliest towards humans. I need to save what’s left of my people,” Kira said as she took a cloth from a bowl of water across the room, cleaning off her thighs.

“Kira. You know I’ll be here when you get back. Just promise me you’ll come back,” Ian said leaning up on his elbows once more.

Pulling on her fur garments Kira smiled, and walked across the room and gently kissed Ian’s lips. When she turned, she carefully brushed her tail across his cheek, and he smiled.

“You know I will,” she whispered, before gathering her things and heading out the door.

Ian watched it close behind her and laid back down with another long sigh. Looking out the window, he saw a bird landing in the tree just beside the inn. It sang softly, beautifully. Ian felt it undeserved.