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#i formed a bond i couldn’t leave him there

moonchild1 · 5 months

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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

stalemate by @shina913 f s a

↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a

↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too.

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie?

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan. When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

3K notes · View notes

peachdues · 4 months

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IN THE NETHERWOOD

PART III

KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD! READER

PART I HERE ♤ PART TWO HERE

A/N: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS BEFORE YOU REPORT. Special shout out to @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 for being my medical reference and @ghost-1-y for reading this behemoth ahead of time and helping me spot errors. I owe you both my firstborn. TW: dead dove do not eat • explicit violence/gore • references to non-con against several characters (not depicted) • mutilation • self-mutilation/injury (broken bones) • references to torture (not depicted) • brief description of dismembered body • Douma is a sadist • references/mentions of characters being eaten alive • death • angst CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • monster-fucking • werewolf fucking • Giant wolf cock • mates/mating marks • heat cycles • breeding • cum so much fucking cum • belly bulging • dick imprint • cum swelling • oral sex (F! And M! Receiving) • scent kink • breeding kink • creative use of the mating bond • vaginal fisting (?) (idk Sanemi has his whole hand in her at one point) • vaginal fingering • possessive/protective mates • discussions of pregnancy

The suffocating quiet of the Netherwood was broken by the sound of your high-pitched, breathy moans, echoing off the walls of the small den in which you’d spent the last three days.

You supposed you should watch your volume, given that you were in the thick of the Wood, surrounded by plenty of hungry, prowling creatures that would love nothing more than to gnaw on one of your limbs, but you found it increasingly difficult to care, given the presence of Sanemi’s head between your quivering thighs.

Oh well. If the two of you ended up some nightcrawler’s dinner because you hadn’t been able to suppress the sounds of your pleasure as the Huntsman’s tongue lazily swirled your entrance, then at least you would be leaving this world floating on a cloud of bliss.

Though, in fairness, you thought you deserved some credit for attempting to keep yourself quiet. You’d tried to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your cries and pleading whimpers as Sanemi worked you with his tongue and fingers, but the Wolf’s other hand had reached up the length of your torso to pull your arm away.

“Let me hear you, Lamb,” he’d murmured against your cunt between teasing sucks at your swollen nub. “You always make the most beautiful sounds for me.”

As if to make a point, he’d driven his tongue straight into your entrance, and you’d been unable to stop the answering wail that tore from your throat, or your fingers from gripping harshly at his hair, desperate to keep him close. Before long, the Huntsman brought you to climax once more with your legs locked around his head at your knees and his hands clenching tightly around the meat of your thighs. The moment the essence of your pleasure hit his tongue, Sanemi groaned, loud and wantonly, and pressed your core tighter against his mouth until you were certain he couldn’t breathe in anything that wasn’t you.

“Would it shock you to know I have a sweet tooth?” He panted after he pulled away, his cheek resting against your inner thigh as it quivered with the aftershock of your ecstasy. “Unhealthily so, as a matter of fact; it borders an obsession.” His eyes dropped down to your core which glistened with the combination of fluids from your pleasure and his mouth. His pupils blew wide. “And yet, I have never encountered a vice as sweet as you, little Lamb.” He pressed a sweet kiss against your slit before he danced his mouth across the delicate skin of your inner thighs, every touch of his lips soothing the way they trembled as you came down from your peak.

“I’m your glutton,” he whispered against your navel as he trailed his lips up your body, limp from equal parts satisfaction and exhaustion.

The Wolf covered your slightly shivering form with his, his head dipping to nuzzle affectionately at your neck.

“How are you feeling?” Sanemi asked shyly, moving to brush his nose against yours. “Have you any discomfort?”

You made a point of stretching against the furs, shifting each joint and flexing every limb to test its mobility.

“Perhaps a little soreness,” you said after a moment. “Though I admit, it is not nearly as bad as I would’ve expected.”

Sanemi’s hands stroked along your skin, the Huntsman directing you to guide him to where any ache lingered, his fingers stopping to gently massage any area where you’d even slightly twitched beneath his touch.

“That might be because of me,” he murmured as his fingers worked a tender spot on your hip. At your raised eyebrow, he added with a smirk, “My saliva heals.”

He rolled to his back, bringing you atop him, his hands threading gently through your hair.

“Do you feel any different?” You whispered, fingers painting circles in the dip between his generous pectoral muscles. “Now that I’ve accepted the bond?”

You felt him grin against your hairline. “You mean besides feeling the utter bliss of having such a beautiful, delectable, and downright sinful little mate?”

You rolled your eyes. “I was being earnest.”

“As was I,” Sanemi flipped you back under him, settling in the cradle of your thighs, his weight braced on his forearms that came to rest by your head. “You are truly an irresistible little creature.”

“But if you’re asking whether I feel changed,” Sanemi paused, dipping his head down to trail heated kisses along your neck. “Then yes, little Lamb. I feel the bond.”

Your hand found the back of his neck and tugged him down for a needy kiss. “In what way?” You murmured after you broke away.

Sanemi propped himself up on an elbow above you, his cheek resting on his fist, and he let his some of his weight press against your stomach. The Huntsman was quiet for a moment, his eyes tracing over your your features as he thought.

“The bond serves many purposes,” he began, the index finger of his other hand coming to trace the shape of his mating mark imprinted between your neck and shoulder. “I told you we would be able to feel the other’s emotions through it.”

You nodded, catching the hand toying with your mating mark in yours. Sanemi smirked as he interlaced your fingers with his, holding your hand tight.

“It is more than that. We can use the bond to communicate with one another in a way.”

“You mean speak to one another? Through our minds?” You tapped your fingers against his forehead.

Sanemi’s soft laugh was intoxicating. “Not quite,” he shifted over you until his torso rest flush against yours, his weight a blanket you wished would never leave. “Clear your head for a moment.”

You closed your eyes and willed your mind to still. Sanemi leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours and waited.

After a moment you felt a tug in the back of your mind — as though someone had attached an invisible string to your head and now pulled on it.

“Let your mind open,” came Sanemi’s quiet murmur, his warm breath heating your lips. “Let me in, sweet Lamb.”

Another tug on that string and you felt something bloom — like doors pushed open by a soft wind, allowing sunlight and fresh air to filter through its opening.

Eyes still closed, you smiled. “I feel you,” you whispered. “Though I don’t hear you.”

“Concentrate on the feeling — we can’t talk to one another, not like we are now,” Sanemi’s fingers trailed comfortingly through your hair. “But we can speak through our emotions.”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, narrowing your focus in on the emotions floating down your shared connection.

Sanemi’s presence in your mind felt like a question — no, a request.

Your eyes flew open. With a wide grin, you surged forward and pressed your lips hard against his.

Sanemi chuckled into your kiss, his hand sliding along your jaw as he deepened your connection for a moment, before pulling away. “That’s my girl.”

“That’s incredible!” You breathed excitedly. “All because of the bond?”

The Huntsman nodded, moving his lips down to kiss the hollow of your throat. “Because you accepted the bond, Lamb.” Sanemi settled beside you, pulling your hand up to his mouth, his lips brushing repeatedly over your knuckles and fingers. “And now, whenever you wish it, I can feel what you feel and contrawise.”

“So I will only feel you if I open up the bond to you, first?”

“Aye, though,” Sanemi added, “I suppose if whatever it is either of is experiencing at a given moment is particularly strong, the other will feel it even without first needing to open up the bond.”

You pursed your lips in thought. “So if, say, I was feeling exceptionally happy-“

Sanemi hummed in agreement. “If it was that powerful, I believe I would feel it, too, no matter where you were.”

“And if I was feeling something even stronger than happiness…” you continued, a faint blush warming your cheeks.

The Huntsman raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Aye, Lamb, I reckon I’d feel that, too.”

You had never been one to let your emotions run free, but you could think of no better time than to unlatch the chain that for so long you’d kept locked over your heart. With a serene smile you let go of that inner leash, allowing every ounce of emotion you’d come to harbor for the Huntsman who’d saved your life — in more ways than one — pour forth.

Sanemi’s eyes widened as he felt every bit of it — your gratitude, your joy, and most importantly, your love — surge forward down the mating bond.

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered hoarsely, his hand caressing your face. “My darling little Lamb. I do not deserve you.”

“But I love you all the same.” He murmured before kissing you softly, reverently.

Though Sanemi had insisted earlier that the two of you needed to be on your way if you were to make it back to the Wolves’ territory before nightfall, it was he who coaxed you into wrapping your legs around his hips once more.

As he’d rolled gently into you, arms wrapped tightly around your trembling form, he allowed his own emotions to pour into you down the bond, until you could not tell whether you cried from pleasure or from the overwhelming depth of his love.

Home, you thought just before he helped bring you over the edge. Sanemi felt like home.

When Sanemi finally pulled away from you, the late autumn sun hung high overhead. With a groan, the Huntsman rose from your nest, running a hand through his rumpled hair as he cursed you for being “too damn enticing.”

You sat up and winced slightly at the warm fluid trickling down your thighs. Beneath the slight soreness that still pulsed through your lower body, between your legs felt slightly gooey and sticky.

“I don’t suppose we have time to bathe before continuing our journey,” you lamented. Sanemi looked over his shoulder back at you as he tugged on his breeches, his mouth pulled into an apologetic half-grin.

“Sorry, sweetling, but we need to move. We don’t want to be stuck here when night comes.”

He rummaged in his satchel for a small handkerchief, pulling it free before moving towards the remnants of the small fire that he’d put out and dousing the cloth in the water he’d warmed for tea.

He motioned for you to lay back against the furs of the nest. You obeyed, spreading your legs slightly for him. Sanemi looked almost proud at the mess he’d left behind as he gently wiped away the remnants of your coupling with the warm cloth.

You hissed slightly at the contact, still sensitive. Sanemi’s fingers were quick to massage the skin of your thighs to ease your tension. “This is the best I can do, for now.”

Once he’d cleaned you up the best he could, Sanemi brought you the layers of your dress from where he’d safely stored them before his heat struck.

As you dressed, it dawned on you that you had no idea what was to become of you, now that you’d been bonded to the Huntsman tasked with escorting you through the Wood.

You’d propositioned him with an amended bargain — to lead you to another human village, where you could decide whether you wanted to stay with him or part ways, but that was before the bite tying you to him; before you’d opened your body up to him to claim and make his.

Though you felt confident that Sanemi did not intend on abandoning you now, without a clear idea of your path, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty which sat like a weight in your stomach.

“Where do we go from here?” You kept your tone light as your fingers laced the cord of your stays. “Do you still wish to see our bargain through?”

Sanemi looked quizzically at you as he shook out his tunic. “You mean, do I intend to still take you to another human village?”

You nodded, letting the curtain of your hair fall before your face to conceal the way you chewed anxiously on your lower lip.

The Huntsman scoffed lightly. “No, Lamb. I am taking you home with me.”

You chanced glancing up at him. “Your home?”

“Aye.”

“The cabin, then?”

He shook his head. “That cabin is where I stay when I’m helping travelers through the Wood, but I don’t consider it my true home.” He looked at you with a soft smile. “We will go to the Wolves’ territory in the East. Where my brother and packmates live.”

Sanemi made quick work of clearing out the den once the two of you were properly dressed. He’d made a small fire to burn the furs used for the den nest, explaining the need to cover the remnants of your scents from any creatures tempted to follow after you as he tossed them one by one into the flames.

Once you’d secured your cloak around your shoulders and nestled your basket in the crook of your arm, and Sanemi his satchel across his back, the pair of you set off, anxious to reach the Wolves’ lands by nightfall.

You’d not been traveling for long when you spied a bubbling creek only a few lengths away from the path Sanemi had marked as safest to take, a ribbon that formed an unassuming partition that broke up the claustrophobic Netherwood. At once, the filth coating your skin – a mixture of sweat and sticky fluids from both you and your mate – felt all the more pronounced the longer you stared at the clear, crisp water.

“Are you certain we don’t have time to stop and refresh before continuing?” You shuddered at the thought of meeting the members of Sanemi’s pack unwashed with the remnants of your time in the cave den still lingering upon your skin – especially if they possessed the same sense of smell as your mate.

As if on cue, a piercing shriek tore through the trees, accompanied by an unsettling tremor that rippled across the forest floor. Above you, the Wood’s canopy shifted, though there was no wind to disturb the trees’ leaves.

Sanemi’s arm locked around your waist and the Wolf tucked you protectively into his side. His lips curled back in a snarl, his teeth bared as he scanned the tree line before you, his nostrils flaring as he scented out the threat. Save for the thundering beat of your heart against your sternum, you dared not make a sound.

Another distant roar echoed through the Wood before it was cut off by a sickening yelp. You tried to pretend the ominous crunching noises that followed was the mere product of your heightened and over-sensitive imagination, but Sanemi’s soft growl indicated he too, had heard the sound.

The crunching faded and a familiar stillness settled back over the Netherwood once more. Sanemi remained in his protective stance for a moment longer before finally relaxing, though the tightness in his features signaled he remained on high alert.

“Does that answer your question, Lamb?”

“Y-yes,” you answered meekly, voice high. The Huntsman nodded stiffly, casting one final look back toward the direction of the unnerving disturbance. His arm remained tightly around your waist as he gently guided you along, resuming your trek away from whatever danger lurked just out of sight, though at a more urgent pace.

“Talk to me, sweetling,” Sanemi squeezed your hip, bringing your focus back to him and away from the endless expanse of cursed Wood at your back. “Tell me about life in the village.”

It took you a moment to process what he’d asked. “You mean, before Douma?”

“Aye.”

You adjusted the hood of your cape over your head. “Quaint.” You decided after a moment. “We were so very isolated from any other village – stuck between the Netherwood and the base of a great mountain range.”

“It was rare to receive visitors from the other side of the Wood, and just as uncommon for any of us to attempt the journey. Only the truly desperate did that – usually to get aid for a sick loved one.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “That is how I lost my parents and ended up in my grandmother’s care.”

Sanemi nodded. “I remember you mentioned your parents disappeared into the Wood when you were a girl,” his arm dropped from its protective position around your waist in favor of looking through yours and tucking it into the crook of his elbow.

His other hand covered yours and squeezed. “And your grandmother?” He prompted gently. “You seem very fond of her.”

“I was,” you smiled, wistful. “She was my favorite person; she doted on me – and Kotoha, too, though we were always causing her grief.”

The sound of Sanemi’s quiet laugh helped still some of your errant nerves. “You, causing trouble? I cannot believe it – not my innocent Lamb.”

“I’m sure you can imagine what sort of strife two, rambunctious adolescent girls caused, especially for an old woman.” You said fondly. “I think Granny gave up hope that we’d mellow out upon reaching adulthood. She accepted she’d never have a demure, proper granddaughter.” Your heart squeezed under the mournful weight of her passing as it sunk into your chest like a stone. “I’m not sure she would’ve wanted it any other way.”

Sanemi hummed in agreement. “And Kotoha – she was your closest friend, no?”

“More a sister than a mere friend. We were joined at the hip from the time we could walk. Our families were neighbors, for a time.” You’d managed to keep your emotions in check as you’d spoken of your grandmother, but the mention of Kotoha brought a lump in your throat you couldn’t swallow around, no matter how hard you tried.

“When her family learned she was with child out of wedlock, they tossed her into the street. My grandmother took her in.”

The hand you had nestled in Sanemi’s arm curled into a fist. “But Douma sent his proposal to her parents’ house, and they showed up not long after, demanding Kotoha agree to his offer. They claimed it would save her reputation,” you scoffed, a bitterness coating your tongue.

You remembered the way your Grandmother had vehemently argued with Kotoha’s parents, outright refusing to hand her over to deliver to the sinister Worship Leader, but it hadn’t mattered. Your friend’s parents were soberly aware of the rumors which swirled around the disappearances of Douma’s previous wives, and they still insisted on selling her daughter to the beast. “Their pride,” you seethed. “That was all that they cared about. Not hers; not her safety. Douma paid them handsomely in exchange for her hand – like she was fucking cattle.”

Sanemi’s sneer matched yours. “If there is one thing I despise about humans, it is how they treat their women,” he said darkly. “The utter disregard for their agency and willingness to sell them into violence for the sake of elevating their own status is abhorrent.”

He shook his head in disgust. “That her parents knew of the threat Douma posed and persisted anyways is unforgivable.”

You furtively rubbed at your eyes, hastily wiping away the angry tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. “Yes, well,” you said thickly, and Sanemi’s arm tightened around yours. “You know how the story ends: Kotoha’s bones dumped in the Wood.” A derisive laugh bubbled up in your throat, but you managed to hold it in. A tense moment passed as the two of you wrestled with the truth you’d left unspoken – that Kotoha’s death was what led you into the Netherwood, and it was the reason you’d found Sanemi at all.

You were alive and she was not.

Guilt settled like a blight over your heart that you were desperate to avoid. You cleared your throat, forcibly swallowing the lump of sorrow lodged there in favor of tucking it tightly away; you’d save that battle for another day.

“I’ve talked far too much,” you complained, twirling your basket in your free hand. “Is there anything else the bond can do? Beyond communicating through our emotions, I mean?”

“For example,” you glanced up at your mate. “Am I immortal now?”

“Even I’m not immortal, Lamb,” Sanemi said, a soft smirk on his mouth, and you were grateful for the ease with which he allowed you to change the course of your discussion. “So you most certainly aren’t.”

The two of you came across a small, rocky stream, frozen over by a thin layer of ice. It was almost too wide for you to leap across, but Sanemi managed to step over it with ease. He turned back to you and braced his hands braced either side of your waist, lifting you up and over the water, before tucking you back into his side. “Though, you might age slower. Wolves have a longer life span than humans; that mark might extend your life to match mine.”

“Not that I mind,” he added quickly, his hand squeezing yours. “I cannot imagine facing any stretch of years without you in my life.” His face darkened. “To not feel you down the bond — I don’t even want to imagine it.”

You looked at him, curiosity brimming in your eyes. "The bond can break?"

“Aye, Lamb,” and there was a heaviness in his eyes that made your heart clench. “Death severs the mating bond.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Sanemi confirmed. “Luckily it’s the only thing that breaks it — so no matter how far apart we may be, I will still be able to feel you, and you me.”

“There were legends that certain kinds of magic could sever the bond — without killing either mate,” Sanemi continued, the nostrils of his nose flaring every so often to scent the air around you for any signs of danger. “There were monsters — called Fae, though they were more like demons — that once roamed the Wood that had an appetite for eating other powerful creatures. They would manipulate the bond to create panic and lure out such beasts to consume.”

You shuddered. “And they had the power to cut a mating bond? Or at least manipulate it?”

Sanemi’s expression was dark. “Aye. Blood magic, they called it.” His eyes cut quickly to yours and softened at the sudden stiffness he found in your shoulders. “But it’s all legend, Y/N. No one in living memory has even seen a fae, let alone one that can use blood magic.”

The tightness you’d felt in your chest eased slightly at his assurance. “That’s a relief,” you smiled up at the Huntsman. “And it’s good to know I won’t accidentally cut it off should I ever become cross with you.”

“I can’t imagine how you could ever become cross with me, Lamb,” he replied cheekily. "And if you ever do, I expect all I'll have to do to get back into your good graces is drop to my knees and beg for your forgiveness with my tongue.”

You felt your cheeks heat. You stubbornly bit down on your tongue, too proud to admit the Wolf was likely right. You ignored his smug smirk as you cleared your throat, opting instead to push forward with a change in subject. “You’ve not told me about your true home — is that where your brother lives?”

“Aye,” the arm Sanemi used to escort you tightened slightly. “Along with a few friends.” His face turned dark for a moment. “What’s left of us, that is.”

Your hand squeezed his forearm in comfort. “You mentioned he stayed with a friend, but you never explained why.”

“Gyomei. He was the one who brought us to the Wolves’ territory – raised us.” His face tightened for a moment before he looked at you, affection brimming in his eyes. “And because you were being nosy.” Sanemi reached to tap the tip of your nose with his finger. “I didn’t want you prying. Not when you were going to leave in the end.”

You gave him a wry smile. “And yet I am still here.”

“That you are, Lamb.” He winked before sighing. “To put it simply: Genya is a boy who thinks he’s a man. He tries to act accordingly.”

“Meaning?”

“He’s got a temper and so do I.” Sanemi snorted. “Didn’t mix well in close quarters.”

You couldn’t fight the small grin forming on your lips. “You? Having a temper? I can’t imagine.”

He paused for a moment. “We got into an argument about him patrolling our lands by himself, and he ended up shifting in our den.” The Huntsman rolled his eyes. “Tried to take a bite out of me and everything, the little shit.”

“Patrol?”

Sanemi nodded. “We have a designated territory – it’s belonged to us for a few generations, going back to Kocho’s grandfather.” At your questioning look, he clarified. “Shinobu, that is. She was Kanae’s younger sister.” Kanae. It must have been the name of the one Sanemi had mentioned was once considered his mate-to-be before she’d disappeared in the Netherwood, never to be seen again. The very reason Sanemi had gone into self-imposed exile, committed to escorting lost stragglers through the Wood, if only to help them avoid her fate.

“Though our borders are relatively strong, we have to maintain regular patrols of the land to ensure no creature attempts to stake a claim,” the Huntsman continued. “As a result, the scariest thing which resides in our territory are the rabbits, which have a nasty little habit of shooting out from underbush and over your feet.” A playful smile spread across his face. “They make Shinobu jump every time.”

“And Genya -- how do you think he will react to me?” You asked carefully.

“He won’t be a danger to you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sanemi said quickly, before scoffing. “I’ll be shocked if the brat isn’t hiding under the bed, tail tucked between his legs.”

Your excitement over the limitless possibilities of your future was tempered by your unease over the unknown. Soon, so soon, you would be meeting Sanemi’s family, and you'd no idea how they would react to the arrival of his new, human mate. “Then let us make haste,” you said brightly, hoping your smile concealed some of your nerves. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

–--

Despite the odd growl or trill of creatures from beyond the Netherwood’s shadows, the rest of your journey was uneventful, particularly in comparison to earlier in the day. It was difficult to tell exactly how late it had grown, given the persistent darkness of the Wood, but with every bit of ground you two covered, Sanemi grew more and more relaxed. Furthermore, while you’d come to understand that part of the Netherwood’s sinister charm was the endlessness of its domain, forever dark and unchanging no matter how deeply you ventured into its howling void, you’d noticed a slight shift in the terrain under your feet, the ground slowing tapering into a downhill path. The trees ahead of you began to thin, allowing small slivers of light from the sky above to filter through the skeletal branches of the Wood’s canopy, enabling you to see more of the area without the need squint as you’d grown accustomed to doing elsewhere in the dense forest.

“We’re approaching our territory’s Western border,” Sanemi explained, having recognized the curiosity which bloomed in your eyes. “Once we pass through that thicket,” he pointed his chin to a small opening ten yards ahead. “We will only be half an hour from the dens.”

“That far?” Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your territory is that large?”

“Aye,” Sanemi said smugly, his shoulders squaring in pride. “And our borders remain stable.”

“Come, Lamb,” he ushered, a newfound pep in his gait. “Let’s go home.”

The Western border was nothing special; it was merely a small clearing dotted by a few towering elm trees and a copse of brush and brambles. You were about to pester your mate with more questions about his territory and the Wolf pack when you spotted a familiar cluster of flora growing in a small thatch right at the edge of the border. You tore your hand from Sanemi’s arm, too excited by the sight to pay mind to his small grunt if indignation. “Snowdrops!” You clapped your hands joyfully. “You have snowdrops here! And they’ve bloomed!”

Sanemi answered your giddy grin with one of his own. “I’ve always wondered what these were called. Are you fond of them, Lamb?”

You knelt down without regard to the cold wetness that spread across the fabric of your skirt where your knee met the frozen, muddy ground. “They’re my favorite,” you said softly, stretching out your hand to graze your fingers over the delicate, bell-shaped petals of the small flowers. “My grandmother’s, too. We used to pick them at the start of each winter.” You frowned, thumbing at one of the blooms. “It seems too early for them to have bloomed, still. The Winter Solstice is still several weeks away.”

“Perhaps winter is arriving sooner than usual,” Sanemi hummed, plucking a single flower from the earth. Gentle fingers brushed back a lock of your hair, tucking the small bloom behind your ear. “Lovely,” his eyes roamed your face, full of quiet adoration, and his hand dropped to caress the curve of your jaw.

You felt your cheeks warm. “I’ll have to return here soon and gather more – for my Grandmother.”

Sanemi nodded and helped you stand. You brushed the front of your skirt free of any loose dirt, and together, the two of you ventured deeper into the safety of the Wolves’ territory.

As the small slivers of sky above you darkened, the dense cluster of trees grew sparser until the landscape suddenly blew wide, forming a yawning mouth deep within the Wood. As the two of you reached the edge of the tree line, you could see the way the forest floor tapered into a narrow path that gradually sloped downward before it opened, revealing a lush, hilly valley at its base. The rolling hills sprawled across the vale were broken up by smaller clusters of trees and brush, though it wasn’t nearly as dense as the Wood looming at your back. Standing above the gorge as you were, the peculiar arrangement of the foliage gave the distinct impression that the vegetation merely served to provide some privacy for the sloping mounds below.

Your position above the territory also revealed the curious sight of smoke drifting lazily above a few of the small hills. You studied the way it rose in steady, controlled columns, but you were unable to pinpoint its source even from where you stood at the outer limit of the Netherwood’s great maw. You gasped. “Is that --?”

“Aye,” Sanemi nodded. “Our homes are built into the hills themselves. Think of it as a cross between a wolf’s den and a cabin.” The Huntsman folded your hand into his and together, you descended the valley. As you drew closer, you realized the hills containing the dens were larger than you’d initially believed, with each standing at least two or three times the size of the cave den where Sanemi had claimed you as his mate.

The Wolf led you past the first of the foothills, and to your surprise, you caught sight of a small door nestled in the center of the cavern. It was with no shortage of delight that you spied small, purple flowers painted its trim. “That’s Kocho’s – Shinobu’s,” Sanemi nodded at the den. “She’s away right now; she often travels to human villages to the South – where you wanted to travel when we first met.”

“She makes that journey alone?” You turned to him in wide-eyed surprise. “Why?”

Sanemi shrugged. “Shinobu is something of a doctor – she studies medicine.” The small den disappeared behind you as he led you by your hand through the first small, twisting spinney of trees. “She often checks in on the humans in the villages on the other side of the Wood and provides aid where needed. Otherwise she purchases supplies she can’t collect on her own here.”

You walked a little way through the winding bramble, the trees lining the path bent towards one another, forming a half-tunnel of branches before giving way to another clearing. There, nestled alongside a small brook, sat another cave den, the slope of which was covered by a twisting mass of vines, browned and leafless in the late autumn night.

“And this is home,” Sanemi’s hand squeezed yours. “It looks better once the leaves have bloomed.” He led you to the small, wooden door built into the rock forming the cave. The border of the door’s frame was etched with small, delicate carvings, slightly faded from age and weather.

It seemed so…human.

Sanemi fished a small key free from the pocket of his satchel, strapped safely around his shoulders and slid it into the door’s lock. With a heavy groan, the door swung open under the push of his hand, revealing the homely cottage within. The Huntsman helped you over the raised threshold into the den, allowing the door to remain open so that the dwindling light of day could illuminate enough of the main floor of the cabin until he could stoke a fire to life in a great hearth at the center of the room. “It’s not much,” Sanemi admitted as the light from the fireplace bathed the room in its warm, orange glow. He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. “But it’s –”

“Perfect,” you finished, breathless. You turned back to him and greeted his wide eyes with a broad smile. “Sanemi, it’s perfect.” And it was. The small entryway gave way to a surprisingly spacious and open room. The large mantle of the fireplace was its centerpiece, standing in the middle of the wall to your left. Straight back stood a large bed – larger than any you’d ever see – covered in thick layers of furs and knitted blankets. On one side of the large, logged bed frame was a sizable armoire; on the other, an antique washstand. A clay stove was nestled into a corner on your right, accompanied by a small wooden counter below a series of cupboards. While the room was open, there remained one corner obscured from sight by heavy curtains. You turned to your mate in question, eyes flickering back to the enclosed space in wait.

“The bath,” Sanemi nodded at the curtains. A wicked smirk curved his lips. “Plenty big enough for two.”

You blushed and continued your appraisal of his cave den. The floors were wood, but had been sanded down and smoothed, enough that you were sure you could walk across it barefoot without worrying about splinters. Several rugs were spread across the floor of various sizes, the largest of which was sprawled before the large fireplace. “This is incredible,” you murmured in awe. “I don’t know what I imagined, but your home is lovely.”

“Our home,” he said roughly. “This is your home now as much as it is --,”

The door to the den flew open with a sharp bang! startling both you and your mate. Instinctively, Sanemi swept you behind him, crouching slightly before you in a defensive stance, his hand flying to the hilt of his small axe where it was secured against his hip.

Before you stood a towering form of a man, though the figure’s face, as it came into view, bore all the telltale signs of youth, his features considerably softer than those of the Wolf softly snarling in warning before you. It struck you, however, that despite his lingering baby fat, the man – boy – before you, was a mirror of your Huntsman. Even without the jagged scar crossing his cheek and nose – a twin to Sanemi’s – the resemblance between the two brothers was striking. Though the he had darker hair, worn in an unusual mohawk that reached his shoulders, Genya possessed the same eyes as your mate, right down to the precise deep lavender hues of his irises.The younger Shinazugawa was lankier than his elder brother, but what he lacked in brawn, he made up for in height, possessing a good inch over Sanemi. Despite the clear presence of well-defined muscles slightly straining beneath his tunic and breeches, however, Genya possessed the lumbering awkwardness of youth. His shoulders hunched inward in an effort to take up less space than he occupied, and his arms hung stiff at his sides, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. The clumsiness of his frame complemented the gracelessness of his speech. “W-what – w-who?” He sputtered, gaping between his brother and you in wide-eyed disbelief. “Aniki?”

Beside you, Sanemi snorted under his breath. “Y/N. Her name is Y/N.”

You gave the young Wolf a warm smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you; your brother told me a great deal about you.”

Apparently, addressing the boy only served to fluster him more. He could scarcely meet your eyes, instead flushing a bright shade of red as he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Sanemi groaned, exasperated. “Gods above, Genya,” and the younger Shinazugawa looked sheepishly to his brother. “At least acknowledge her.”

Genya’s blush only deepened, his cheeks rapidly turning a deep shade of maroon as he mumbled apologies under his breath. His inability to meet your eye appeared to irritate the Huntsman, and Sanemi snarled at his brother in warning. Before he could snap at the bashful young Wolf, you laid your hand placatingly over his. Instantly, Sanemi relaxed, and his arm wound around your waist to hold you close as he settled.

Genya’s nostrils flared slightly. “A mate?” He whispered, looking to Sanemi in awe. “You claimed a mate?” His eyes flickered to you briefly, widening. “And she’s human?”

“Aye,” Sanemi nodded, though with a curious stiffness. “’S why I’m late. She was being tracked through the Wood.”

“A human in the Netherwood?” A spark of interest flared to life in his eyes, some of his blush fading as his curiosity dimmed some of his shyness. “Y-you managed to make it all the way to b-brother’s cabin?”

It was the first time Genya addressed you directly. “In a way,” you looked up to your mate with a small smile. “Though, I stumbled across him by chance more than anything.” You nestled affectionately into his side, and the Huntsman’s eyes dropped to yours. Feeling slightly bold, you fluttered your eyelashes at him, lips parting to give him the softest of smiles. Sanemi shifted beside you, pressing you harder against him. He cleared his throat and looked away, and to your amusement, you spied a faint blush creeping up the side of the Huntsman’s neck.

The moment of flirtation was lost upon the younger boy looking eagerly to his brother. “Was there a fight? Against the men following you? Does she –” his eyes cut to you and back. “Does she know?”

“She knows we are wolves,” and the brothers exchanged a meaningful look, one that did not slip past you unnoticed. Before you could question it, Sanemi added, sternly, “And she has accepted the bond. She is part of the pack now.”

Genya’s eyes shifted furtively back to you, but when he met your open, welcoming smile, he hastily dropped them back to the floor. “N-nice to meet you,” he mumbled shyly. Though his hulking mass suggested he was a fully matured man, Genya’s painful bashfulness gave away his boyishness.

Your grin widened. Oh, he was adorable. Absolutely precious.

Genya’s temporary embarrassment was fleeting, for he quickly looked back to his brother, clearly antsy to talk as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “How was the journey?” He asked. “Did you see any monsters? When did you find her – in a village? How long have –”

To your bewilderment, you felt the Huntsman at your side grow more and more tense with every question his younger brother pelted at him, his agitation nearly palpable. You were about to interject on his behalf when the white-haired wolf finally snapped. “Genya, fuck off,” Sanemi snarled, his arm tightening possessively around your waist.

You whipped your head toward the Huntsman, ready to give him the good verbal lashing he apparently needed, but the young boy only smiled, sheepish.“Sorry, Aniki,” Genya rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot.”

“Don’t apologize,” you chastised the boy, gently. “It isn’t your fault your brother has lost all sense of decorum.”

Genya flushed. “N-no, it’s not,” he stammered in agreement. “B-but you see – well, when a wolf takes a mate…”The younger boy’s blush deepened to a near purple, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s as he struggled to find the appropriate words.

Growling slightly under this breath, though more so in annoyance, Sanemi shifted himself behind you, pressing his hips against your rear. You felt his length, hard and throbbing against his breeches, as it dug sharply into your backside. Your mate’s silent explanation made your cheeks warm, and you wondered whether your blush matched Genya’s. “Oh.” You managed to choke.

Genya rocked awkwardly back on his feet. “I’ll come by later, Aniki.” He croaked. “Y/N,” he added, nodding at you though still unable to meet your eyes. The boy turned sharply on his heel, half stumbling out of the small cottage den in his haste to get away, proverbial tail indeed tucked between his legs.

The door had barely banged shut before Sanemi had you pressed up against the wall of the cabin, hauling you up so your legs had to wrap around his waist for support. “I shall explain in full later,” he promised, fingers ripping the cord out of your corset so he could yank it down along with your blouse, exposing your breasts. “But right now, I need to claim.”

“S-sure,” you stuttered, gasping as the Huntsman’s hot mouth closed around one of your mounds, his hands working to shove your skirts out of his way. One arm remained under your backside, keeping you propped up against the wall, and the other moved to shove his breeches just far enough down his hips to free his cock, already standing taut and ready to fill you.

Sanemi did not give any warning before he plunged his rigid length deep into your walls, though you were surprised at how readily you took him, you cunt sucking him in as though it too, had been waiting for him to remind you exactly whose mark you bore on your skin. The Wolf nudged your head to the side with his nose so he could bury his face into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply. With a low growl, his tongue flicked out and caressed the crescent-shaped mating mark at the juncture between your neck and shoulder before he nipped lightly at your skin.

“Mine,” he snarled. “You’re mine.”

Despite being pinned against the wall by his hips, you managed to spread your thighs wider, opening yourself up further to allow Sanemi to pound into you without restraint, but he pulled away. You cried out at the sudden, cold emptiness you felt as Sanemi pulled out of you, leaving your core to wildly clench around nothing. The Huntsman soothed you with hot kisses against your throat, his thumbs rubbing circles into your outer thighs as he pivoted you away from the wall. Sanemi crossed the small room easily, making quick work in ridding you of your skirts and corset. Once the last of your attire had been discarded on the floor, he tossed you onto the delightfully plush bed standing against the middle of the wall, his gaze locked onto the way your breasts bounced as you settled. His eyes lifted back to yours as he wrapped one hand around the base of his engorged length and pumped, the other shoving the waistband of his trousers down his hips and legs until he could kick them off. “Turn over.” There was a darkness in his tone that thrilled you. “And get on your knees.”

You spent the remainder of the evening being filled again and again by Sanemi.The sun had set by the time he finally collapsed upon the bed beside you, strong arms locking around your middle to pull you onto his chest. You hummed contentedly against his warmth, your cheek sticking slightly to his sweat-slicked skin as you settled against him.

“I’ll confess, I did not know what to expect for my first day here,” You said, fingers tracing lazy patterns into the Huntsman’s skin. “But I cannot say I’m disappointed.”

Sanemi huffed a quiet laugh at your teasing. “This wasn’t what I’d envisioned when I first decided to bring you back,” he admitted, his hands smoothing over your back, gentle and light. “I didn’t realize how…wound up I would be since you accepted the bond.”

You propped your head up on the steel of his abdomen, peering up at him. “Is that why you snapped at Genya? The bond?”

“Aye,” the Huntsman admitted sheepishly. “I’ve heard that newly mated wolves can be territorial of their partners, but I’ll confess, I did not know how intense it would be.”

You felt warm and giddy at the idea Sanemi had felt possessive of you, even amongst family. “Your little brother posed no threat,” you playfully chastised him, peppering kisses across the expanse of his upper abdomen. Sanemi’s muscles clenched beneath your lips and you smiled; you’d learned he was ticklish, and you secretly enjoyed making him squirm.

“It’s not that I believed him to be a threat,” Sanemi caught your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up towards him, his expression growing smug. “I know I do not have any true competition when it comes to you.” He leaned down until he was but a hair from your lips, his warm breath washing over your face. “Because no one else could possibly keep up with your insatiable appetite, Lamb.”

You caught his lower lip between your teeth, demanding with a small whine that he kiss you. Sanemi obliged, but pulled back before you could slide your tongue into his mouth and deepen your connection. That smug grin on his face remained for a moment before melting into something slightly more serious. “But it’s not that I think I have competition — it is more so that I am hyper-aware of any potential threat to you. And my impulse is to eliminate it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in curious thought. “Is it because you’re in heat?”

Sanemi nodded. “I must be, considering I still was able to knot you.”

“But you didn’t shift,” you wondered. “At least, not as you did that first time.”

The Huntsman’s fingers trailed up and down your bare arm. “True,” he sighed. “But you also hadn’t yet accepted the bond.” He thought for a moment. “And it was my first time with a human; I have better control over myself now.”

You lifted your head up in surprise, eyes wide. “Does that mean —?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “I don’t think that cloak of yours will be necessary again. At least, not while I’m knotting you.”

It would have been futile to make any attempt to stifle the thrill of joy that shot through you thanks to Sanemi’s promise, and so you didn’t bother to try. Your mouth spread into a grin, wide and feral, at the prospect, and your cheeks burned with your excitement.

“Gods,” he groaned. “I am beginning to think the animal here is you, Lamb, and not me.”

You traced your lips over his pectoral, sucking a small bruise into his firm flesh. “Then perhaps I should be the one who wears the leash, Wolf.”

Sanemi caught your chin between his fingers and tugged you up his torso with a growl. “I can arrange that, sweetling,” he whispered hotly against your lips before bringing you in for a searing kiss. Swiftly, the Wolf flipped you back under him, and to your delight, you saw his cock had hardened once more. “I’d rather like to see you restrained.”

You giggled as he nudged your legs open and settled between them. With a contented sigh, you arched your back as your Wolf pressed the head of his length to your leaking, swollen entrance and he slid home once more.

Your first few days in the Wolves’ territory passed by without much fuss. As it turned out, Shinobu was not the only one away on business; Gyomei, the one responsible for Shinazugawa brothers’ care as boys, was also on an errand, though Sanemi did not specify what that task was.

Genya had been glued to Sanemi’s side since he returned, giving his elder brother a full, detailed report of everything that he’d missed in his time away at his other cabin in the Wood. Evidently, Sanemi had not been home for several months, though you’d learned that was not uncommon; Sanemi spent the majority of the year helping humans cross the Wood, returning home only for a few weeks in the winter. You’d tried your best to bond with the younger Shinazugawa, but no matter what you did, the boy could scarcely meet your eye, always flushing the same, deep shade of crimson anytime you so much as acknowledged his presence. Truthfully, it was a little disheartening, but you were determined to make friends with him. You’d just have to get more creative, it seemed.

Shinobu returned to the Wolves’ territory almost a week after your arrival. Sanemi had been in the process of dressing after a particularly rigorous morning with you, which involved the Wolf making good on his vow to have you spend as much time perched upon his face while he feasted on your cunt, not stopping until you’d fallen limply to the side, unable to hold yourself up any longer. He'd been lacing the front of his breeches when his head suddenly lifted, head cocked toward the door to the cabin den as he listened. A broad smile spread across his face and he looked back to you, still wrapped in one of the soft furs on the bed. “Kocho’s back.”

Once you’d dressed and Sanemi had secured your red cloak snugly around your shoulders, the pair of you set off toward the foothills you’d passed when you first arrived. You savored the scent of pine and evergreen which perfumed the small pocket of trees partitioning Sanemi’s den from Shinobu’s, and spotted several witch hazel bushes peppering the needle-covered floor. Sure enough, there was smoke rising from the small, concealed chimney located atop the small hill containing Shinobu’s den, and the door was left open. Sanemi scented the air once and pulled you toward a small ravine across from the hillside, his fingers interlaced tightly with yours.

“Kocho!” He called as he navigated his way down the rocky cliffside, turning to you to brace his hands against your waist and help you down.

You spotted a slight figure kneeling by a small, shallow body of clear water. She stiffened as the two of you drew near, and rose gracefully to her full height. She turned to you, hands lowering the hood of her intricately patterned cloak. Shinobu was petite and rather doll-like; her lips were set in a serene smile, but her eyes – large, and a deep plum – were sharp, if not slightly cold. “My, my,” the female Wolf’s voice was as delicate a butterfly’s wings, and her nostrils flared slightly as she scented the air. “You’ve found yourself a mate, Shinazugawa.” Slowly, her eyes dragged down you from head to toe, considering. “A human one, at that.”

“That I did,” Sanemi frowned as he considered his packmate. Now that you’d closed the distance between yourself and his packmate, you saw she’d been cleaning off various sharp tools in the creek below.

Her piercing gaze lingered on the cloak around your shoulders. “What an interesting heirloom.” She sniffed the air around you. “What’s a human doing with an enchanted cloak?”

You were taken aback at her less than welcoming greeting. “It was my grandmother’s,” you said softly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself in your self-consciousness.

“Tch, what has you all sour?” The Huntsman demanded, eyes narrowed at his packmate. “I don’t recall interrogating you when you finally mated –”

Shinobu’s eyes flashed. “I’ve just returned from a rather tedious journey – which went fine, thank you for asking,” she shot back. “And I am tired.” Those discerning, violet orbs found you once again. “Your name?”

You managed to keep your voice steady and clear as you answered her, even as your stomach twisted with nerves.

“A pleasure,” she nodded at you before turning her attention back to Sanemi. “I trust you’ll fill me in on the details of your time away after I’ve had a chance to settle, hm?”

He rolled his eyes. “Aye, as soon as you remove whatever stick you’ve got lodged up your ass.”

Shinobu’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, and a vein bulged in her temple. With a huff, the doctor quickly gathered her tools and primly stalked past you and and your mate, her shoulders rigid and spine straighter than an arrow. For a beat, you remained standing there, in shock. “That – that could have gone better.” You said quietly after a moment.

Sanemi turned and watched his packmate retreat back to her den, his eyebrows furrowed. Understanding suddenly dawned on his features, his hand rising to rub tiredly at his eyes. “Ah, I see.” Sanemi chuffed. “Don’t pay her any mind,” he added quickly at your raised eyebrow. “She’s irritable because her mate is on the other side of the Wood, preparing for the Winter Solstice. And I suspect Shinobu’s heat is approaching.”

He’d mentioned the young doctor was also mated. “What is Shinobu’s mate like? Is he a Wolf, too?”

“She,” Sanemi corrected. “And no. She’s a nymph. A Naiad.”

Your eyes widened, curiosity blooming in your chest. “A nymph! My grandmother used to tell me stories about nymphs – how beautiful they are, and how there is no sound sweeter than that of a nymph’s song –”

“Sweet?” Sanemi snickered. “I would not call Mitsuri’s voice ‘sweet,’” he shook his head. “Every time we cross paths, I seem to leave the encounter with a dull ache in my skull.”

You felt slightly mollified. “Do you not get along, then?”

“Mitsuri is Shinobu’s mate – that makes her part of our pack,” The Huntsman said firmly. “No matter how much the silly girl vexes me.”

“What is she like?” You wove your fingers between the Wolf’s. “I have never met a nymph.”

“Hn. Pink.” Sanemi snorted. “Very pink. Very talkative.” He took your hand in his and the two of you made your way back up the rocky slope of the small gully, in the direction toward home. “You’ll likely meet her after the Solstice. The Naiads still celebrate the old traditions of the gods, and from what Mitsuri has told us, such festivals involve weeks of preparation.” He rolled his eyes. “Kocho gets rather irritable when she’s away. Especially the closer she gets to her heat – usually during the full moon.”

Once you’d reached the path that led toward home, Sanemi looped an arm around your shoulders. “Try not to think ill of her, Lamb. She’s a good woman; a sister to me and Genya.”

You nuzzled into his side, grateful for his warmth against the brisk, late-autumn chill. “Perhaps I shall try to make her acquaintance again, maybe tomorrow –?”

“No you won’t,” Sanemi sternly interjected. “You did nothing wrong; she needs to come to you – and she will.” He kissed your hair. “But nevermind that for now – come, I’ll show you where Genya and Gyomei reside.”

Sanemi’s prediction rang true; for the next morning, not long after he’d departed from your den to go hunt with his younger brother, a knock sounded at the door.

It was Shinobu. She held out a small basket, covered with a cheesecloth. “I brought some rations – I wasn’t sure how much Sanemi had, as it’s been so long since he’s been home.” You lifted the cloth, blinking in surprise at how much the doctor had packed. From just a quick once-over, you spotted various saches of dried meats and nuts, as well as a few jars of clear liquid. “Syrup,” she added, as you accepted the bundle with a heartfelt thank you. “You can use it to preserve fruit and make jams, if you’d like.’

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “I was wondering whether you’d like to assist me with some of my duties,” though she kept her head held high and her voice was clear and firm, there was a softness in her eyes as she regarded you. She gave you a warm smile, and you realized she likely did feel remorse for how terse she’d been the day before. “If you’re interested in botany, that is.”

You returned her smile with one of your own. “I used to gather all sorts of herbs and plants for my grandmother – for medicine and food. We were no doctors, but we could help villagers out with minor injuries and ailments.”

She brightened. “Even better,” she turned away from the entry to your cabin and lifted the hood of her intricately patterned cape over her head, shielding her from the dreary mist raining down from the gray sky above. She tilted her head back and sniffed the air once before turning back to you. “There is more rain to come; dress warmly and meet me at the cliff near my den. We’ll travel together.”

You nodded and Shinobu retreated back in the direction of her home. Once you’d dressed and wrapped yourself in your grandmother’s cloak, you gathered your basket and set off. “I apologize for our meeting yesterday,” Shinobu glanced to you as you walked down the ravine, the Wolf offering her arm to you for support. “The full moon is drawing near, as is my heat. I’m in the rather difficult position of having to endure it without my mate.”

You waved her off. “I understand, I did not think ill of you. Your mate – Mitsuri? Sanemi told me she was a Naiad.”

The raven-haired doctor nodded. “My heats are less frequent than the Wolves – the boys,” Shinobu said airily, humming as you walked along the winding path. “And unfortunately, Shifters and Nymphs do not have the best history. My presence among Mitsuri’s kind tends to cause tension for her.” Though her tone remained light, the sudden appearance of a small vein ticking at her temple betrayed the extent of her annoyance. “And while my love is earnest when she says she does not care what the others think, I care on her behalf. I don’t want her to feel ostracized by her own kind on my account.”

Your curiosity piqued at her use of Shifter as opposed to Wolf, but you were distracted by a pang of sympathy at the young woman’s revelation. “So you two must continue living apart?”

“Mmm, but not forever,” Shinobu sighed. “Mitsuri comes from a line of nobility among the Nymphs; as such, she is set to inherit her own river once she reaches her quarter-life day, which is only a little over two years away.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Once she lays her claim on her inheritance, she will be able to live separate from the other Naiads, as is custom in her culture. Then I shall join her.”

A low whistle blew past your lips. “I’d not realized the Nymphs were so…political,”

Shinobu hummed in agreement. “All Nymphs practice the old ways of the gods, and their internal hierarchy is merely one of the more archaic systems which has persisted over the centuries.” A sudden shadow passed over her features. “I cannot fault her kind for it – the Fae wiped out so many cultures and subsects of the Nymphs that they cling to what few traditions they’ve managed to salvage.”

“The Fae?” You cocked your head, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Sanemi mentioned something about them once – that they possessed magic of sorts.”

The dark-haired Wolf nodded. “No one knows how or why they came to be so entwined with magic; all that is known is that they abused it and sought to dominate all others – humans and creatures alike, and they sought to devour anything with power. They nearly eradicated Shifters like Gyomei and myself, as well.”

You barely suppressed a shiver. “What happened to them? Sanemi said the Fae had fallen out of existence.”

“They have, as far as anyone knows,” Shinobu held out a hand and helped you climb the small cliff leading back to the dens. Though she was slight in stature, her strength was still great, and she hauled you up with ease. “There was some sort of battle led by a clan of Sun worshippers – Phoenixes,” she explained. “It is said that they wiped out the Fae, but they too, have faded from existence.” She bit her lip. “It is all myth and legend now.”

Despite the presence of your cloak and the security of the Wolves’ territory, Shinobu insisted on walking you back to the cabin den you shared with Sanemi. “He’d probably rip my throat out if he learned I left you alone; we’re still in the Netherwood, after all.” She’d simply explained.

Once you’d arrived safely home and bid Shinobu farewell, you set to work sorting through the bounty you’d gathered, separating the flora into piles for medicinal use and sustenance. Sanemi returned from his patrol with Genya before sundown, his smile wide as he saw you standing in the small cooking area, stripping the leaves free from the winterberries you’d gathered to make jam. “Shinobu is quite taken with you,” The scent of pine and spice washed over you as the Wolf came up from behind to press a soft kiss against the nape of your neck. “I might have to battle her for time with you.”

You chuckled. “In that event, then perhaps I should run off with Mitsuri. I’ve heard that Nymphs can be ardent lovers.”

Sanemi’s teeth playfully nipped at the side of your neck. “Even those as licentious as the Nymphs would have difficulty keeping up with your desires, Lamb. ‘Tis best to leave that duty to a master.”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, eyebrow raised in suggestion. “And are you my master, Wolf?”

“No,” He replied evenly, ducking to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your mating mark. Your knife clattered to the counter as your hand shot back to tangle in his hair, that familiar, sensual heat spreading thickly through your blood from where Sanemi’s lips caressed the brand. “But you are mine.” His fingers dug into your waist, pulling you tight against his broad form as he sucked at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. A moan fell from your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him greater access, but his hands fell away from you and he stepped back with a quiet laugh. Your eyes flew open and with a frustrated groan, you whipped around to glare at him. Sanemi’s shot you a devilish smirk as he walked back to the fireplace, tugging one of the wrought iron pokers free from its stand beside the hearth. “Someone must see to the fire,” he tsked.

“And yet you leave mine untended,” you grumbled, turning your attention back to your discarded task. Nonetheless, a comfortable silence fell over you as you both worked, though the quiet allowed your thoughts to wander back to your earlier discussions with the pack’s only female member, your mind snagged on a particular choice of her words.

“I wonder,” you hummed, crushing the berries with the flat side of your knife. Sanemi looked up from where he’d been stoking the small fire, waiting. “Why is it you and Genya are ‘wolves,’ but Shinobu refers to herself as a shifter?” You scraped the pulp of the fruit into a small jar, turning to the cupboard behind you to rummage its shelves in search of the small bottle of syrup Shinobu had given you. “Is it merely a difference in preference?”

Sanemi prodded a log in the fireplace with a poker, a sudden unease settling over him. “Not exactly,” he grimaced, rocking back from the hearth to dust his hands off on his breeches. “What Genya and I are is quite distinct from what Shinobu is, though we be pack-mates.”

Your fingers closed around the small vial of syrup you’d searched for and you turned back towards the small wooden counter, unstoppering the bottle.“Are you going to keep me on the edge of my seat waiting?” You teased, pouring the sweet, viscous liquid over the berry pulp you’d gathered into a small glass jar.

But the Huntsman gave neither snarky jab nor flirtatious quip in response to your barb. Instead, you watched as a darkness settled in over his face, his eyes fixed unseeingly upon some spot on the floor. You felt a heat creep up your neck, akin to embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to pry—“

“Genya and I were born human,” Sanemi said quietly. “On the outskirts of a village on the other side of the Wood.”

“Human parents,” his voice was heavy. “And four other human siblings.” You left the small counter where you’d been canning and preserving food for the winter, coming around to where Sanemi sat before the hearth, where you knelt before him, listening. “Our father was a bastard who got himself killed in a tavern brawl; no one was particularly sorrowful when his body was dumped at our doorstep,” Sanemi grimaced. “Though it did make us more vulnerable to outside threats; not having a proper man in the home.” His eyes cut to you. “I was no more than three and ten.

“I won’t pretend like it wasn’t difficult,” Sanemi continued, “but Genya and I made a promise to care for our family and we managed well enough.” He stared blankly into the fire, eyes not truly seeing the flames that danced in the hearth. “For a while, we were happy.”

You worked to swallow the lump forming in your tightening throat. Young – he’d been so young to take on the burden of caretaker for his family, and yet he’d done it without a second thought.

A pregnant pause followed before Sanemi spoke once again. “And then the beast came and it slaughtered them all.” He whispered, and the horror in his eyes looked as fresh as he’d undoubtedly felt it all those years ago. “We were getting ready for bed. Genya and I were helping put our siblings down for the night. Ma was so exhausted – she’d been working herself to the bone doing clothing repairs for everyone in the village. Every night, she came home nearly dead on her feet, and she’d still find time to tuck us all in and wait for us to fall asleep.” Sanemi’s eyes shone with unshed tears that made your heart clench. “She was a great woman, our Mother. Selfless. Kind. Determined.” He shook his head, his free hand wiping harshly at his cheeks. “It was a normal night – that’s what kills me about it all; it was just a night like any other, until it wasn’t.” His fingers squeezed yours. “That thing tore down the door to our home and it ripped my mother and little siblings to shreds.” Sanemi’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his voice thick. “Genya and I tried to fight it – even managed to knick it – but it cut us down like a pair of string puppets. By the time we awoke, the creature had been chased away, and there was nothing left of our family except their blood – splattered across the wall and soaked into the floorboards.”

Your own eyes began to prickle with tears at the heaviness that settled over your mate. Gone was the Huntsman’s usual self-assured swagger; now, Sanemi sat slumped against the floor, his shoulders curled forward in defeat. “It was Gyomei who found us half-dead near the door to our home,” Sanemi’s glassy eyes remained fixed on your joined hands in his lap. “And it was he who brought us to a Mage living on the outskirts of the Wood. Genya and I were in rough shape – convulsing, frothing at our mouths like a pair of rabid animals,” he snorted, derisively. “I s’ppose that’s what we were; a couple of beasts. The Mage – no one knows his true name,” Sanemi quickly amended. “And even those that do know only call him ‘the Master’ – but he worked tirelessly through the night to tame the curse set upon me and my brother.”

Sanemi withdrew his hands from yours and leaned back, and the distance between you felt like an unbreachable chasm. Gently, you prodded. “Curse?”

“I am no simple Wolf, Lamb.” Sanemi’s face was tight, and a cursory glance at his hands revealed balled fists, his knuckles white. “I am something far worse. Damned.”

“I don’t believe that,” you leaned forward and tried to cover his hands with yours once more, but he only shifted back, shaking his head.

“The seal the Master bestowed upon us allows us to appear and act as ordinary wolf shifters.” He looked pained as he lifted your eyes to meet yours. “The wolf you have come to know – that you believe I am – it is only a mockery of what lies beneath my skin.” He shuddered. “There is a beast sealed deep within me. No matter how many years it’s been, no matter how much time passes, I always feel it there. Lurking.”

You tried once more to reach for him. “Sanemi –”

“A Werewolf,” he croaked. “That’s what they call the thing sealed within me. Werewolf.”

This time, Sanemi did not stop your hands as they reached to gingerly cradle his face. His head dropped into your palms in apparent shame and guilt, as though you’d ever believe he would have anything to feel shame or guilt for.

“You were turned?” Your thumb stroked the silvery scar which marred his cheek.

“Aye,” Sanemi’s eyelashes fluttered against your palm at your touch. “Created by the very beast which slaughtered our family.” The Huntsman’s hands wrapped around your wrists but he did not pull them away. “Werewolves are made; no one knows how the first one came into being – only that it went on to create more, and those cursed creatures then continued to spread their filth across the land.” Gently, he removed your hands from his face, but he did not push you away. Instead, he folded them in his and brought them to rest in his lap. “All that is known is that a Werewolf creates others by blood – usually through sharing blood with its victim through some sort of wound.” Sanemi’s thumbs smoothed absently over your knuckles. “Yet we are a rare breed. I have never met another apart from myself and my brother.” He grimaced. “I don’t even know whether the beast that cursed us is still out there, praying on other poor, unsuspecting souls.” His voice quieted to a whisper, his eyes fixing hard on some distant point along the planked wood of the cabin floor. “After we saw the Mage, Gyomei brought us here. He didn’t think we should remain around humans at the time.” Sanemi’s face crumpled under the weight of his devastation. “I am a monster.”

“You’re not,” you insisted. “A monster wouldn’t help escort lost travelers through the Wood to safety. A monster wouldn’t have fought to protect a woman he barely knew from a group of armed men when it would have been so much easier to hand her over.”

Sanemi snarled softly at the reminder of the way Douma’s men tracked you through the Netherwood, but you only kept pressing. “A monster wouldn’t have offered to give up his one chance of mating another to someone for the mere sake of making her harder to track – for her safety.”

Sanemi’s eyes finally met yours and you hoped he saw the fire blazing within them as strongly as you felt its burn.

“So do not sit there and tell me you are a monster. Not when everything you’ve done has been for the sake of others.” You leaned forward on your knees, once again closing the distance he’d tried to put between you. “Do not insult me by thinking my love for you is so weak.” You took his face between your hands, forcing him to hold your stare. “The time for me to run has long since passed and I have never had the intention of doing so.”

Sanemi’s lips parted as he beheld the fierce conviction limning your stare.

“Whatever else it is that you are, you are mine.” You said hotly. “That is what the mark means, does it not? First and foremost, no matter what, I am yours and you are mine.” You sealed your oath with a kiss, bruising and heated. Sanemi paused only for a moment before responding with fervor, his lips moving roughly against yours.

He broke away with a ragged pant. “Where did you come from?” He breathed in wonder as one thumb ran over your cheek. “What have I done in my life to deserve something so good?”

“You are good,” you insisted, catching his lips in another heated but short kiss. Your fingers untangled themselves from his hair to instead grip the collar of your blouse. With a sharp tug, you yanked it to the side and exposed the silver crescent mark seared into your skin. “And it does not matter, because I am here and I am yours.”

Sanemi’s hands dropped to your waist, holding you with a possessive tightness. His nose ran along the length of your neck before he buried his face against your mark. “I love you,” he murmured into your skin, voice raspy with emotion. “From now until the end of time itself, I will love you.” He pulled back to brush featherlight kisses over your eyes and cheeks. Sanemi looked upon you with such intensity that it made your legs tremble. If it weren’t for the grounding warmth of his hands, one cupping your face and the other braced against your lower back, you were sure you would have melted into the floor, nothing more than a puddle of love and desire and utter devotion. "My little Lamb," he cooed softly before he leaned in and brought his mouth against yours in a gentle kiss.

You could not return his declaration out loud - not as Sanemi lifted you from the floor to walk you back towards your bed. His tongue slid between your lips, nimble fingers making quick work of the lacing on your stays, and suddenly, words became too difficult to form. But your Huntsman had taught you how to communicate with your body as powerfully as you could with your voice. So with every layer of clothing shed, with every press of lips and gasp and moan pulled from your throats as your bodies slid together, you cast your heart into the ethos of the mating bond. I love you, you whispered down that shining, golden thread, again and again. I love you. I love you.

The winter solstice was rapidly approaching, now no more than a fortnight away. The days grew increasingly shorter, plunging the Netherwood into a near constant state of darkness with only a few, precious hours of dull gray light. The specter shifting lazily through the Wood was not bothered by the fading light of day; his kind had never been hampered by differences in time or the seasons. Instead, they’d prided themselves on being able to fluctuate with change; it was what allowed them to assimilate with their prey, foxes in coupes full of hens that preferred to turn a blind eye to that which they did not want to explain.

And it made it easy for him to follow the trail his prey had so kindly left for him and him alone, allowing him to linger two steps behind while the object of his desire was none the wiser. Soon, very soon, his patience would be rewarded and they would be reunited. If he timed his reveal just right, the Wolf and the Girl would be properly bonded, and the Girl would bear the proof. So with a hum, the specter continued his languid trek through the Netherwood, following that invisible thread only he could recognize, and he closed in on his target.

The days soon bled into weeks, and before long, half a month had passed since Sanemi had first brought you back to his territory to live with him. It was remarkable how easily you settled into life with the Wolf pack of the Netherwood, and you’d attained a great many things since arriving home with Sanemi: freedom to do as you pleased; stability.

A shadow.

That shadow was really a certain adolescent Wolf, who’d obstinately refused to get near you since your initial meeting the first night you’d spent on the Wolves’ land. You’d tried everything to engage with him; greeted him, asked about his day, asked if he would like to stop by your den for dinner – efforts of which had been sorely unsuccessful.

“Your brother still runs away every time I come within five meters of him,” you grumbled to your mate one night as you’d furiously chopped herbs. “It’s driving me mad.”

The Wolf huffed a dry laugh “Not surprised. Though I’m impressed you’ve kept at it; I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d told him to piss off by now.”

“I have better manners than that,” you sniffed. “I just wish I could think of a way to connect with him, but he won’t get close enough for me to try.” Your knife work paused as an idea suddenly came to mind, Sanemi’s attention lifting away from where he busied himself with polishing his axe. “What about asking him to help me gather materials for Shinobu?” You asked, eyes brightening. “He always lurks whenever I’m in the Wood searching for the plants she uses for her medications and salves.” You chewed on your bottom lip, wracking your brain for your few, scant memories of Genya trailing behind you as you navigated the Wood. Though you’d sensed his presence more than you actually saw the young boy – he was rather adept at hiding behind the breadth of the trees – the few times you’d caught sight of him, you’d seen the intrigue in his eyes as you’d worked. “I think he might want to help with gardening.”

Sanemi blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He rubbed at his chin in thought for a moment, before a smile formed on his lips. “I think it’s a rather clever idea, Lamb.”

“I’m known to have them on occasion,” you replied drily.

The Wolf ignored your snark with a chuff. “You’ll need to needle him a little before he’ll agree,” Sanemi warned. “But just keep doing it while he’s around, and his curiosity will eventually get the better of him.”

You frowned. “I don’t wish to force the poor boy to make my acquaintance —“

“It’s not that,” Sanemi was quick to reassure. “He wants to — and he wants to learn about gardening. He has always had an interest in forestry and plants.” He shrugged as he added, “It’s you he’s afraid of.”

Your knife clattered against the wood of the small counter. “Me?” You turned towards your mate in wide-eyed alarm. “Because I am human?”

“No,” Sanemi snorted. “Because you’re a woman.” He set his axe down beside the table and stood, coming around to the side of the small island where you stood. He drew up behind your back and slipped his arms around your waist to reach for your discarded knife, picking up where you’d left off chopping the roots of the herbs you’d gathered. His breath was hot against your neck. “A very beautiful one, at that.”

You couldn’t help but lean back into his sturdy warmth. “Your attempts at flattery don’t change the fact that your brother can hardly stand to be within ten feet of me.”

“Not flattery if it’s true,” Sanemi countered. Before he could continue chopping the flora you’d gathered, you placed a hand on his forearm, stilling him. He laid the knife flat against the tabletop and loosened his hold to allow you to turn in his embrace and face him.

“I meant to ask you something – about your curse,” your fingers absently toyed with the leather tie on his tunic. Sanemi’s arms tensed slightly around you, but when he did not push you away or otherwise protest, you forged on. “You said your curse was sealed – by a mage,” and the Huntsman nodded as you looked to him for confirmation. “A seal implies something can be opened; unleashed.”

The Huntsman’s features drew tight in understanding. “You want to know if and how the seal can be broken.” You nodded, carefully noting the subtle shift in the shadows which haunted your mate’s eyes.

“I s’ppose in a manner of speaking, it can – anything can be broken,” he said evenly, his own fingers moving to toy with the end of your brain where it hung over your shoulder. “The real question is whether it’s likely.”

“And?” You prodded. “Is it?”

Sanemi smirked. “I don’t reckon it is. I would have to be pushed beyond the limits of my sanity for the seal to break.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “The way Gyomei explained it, is that I would have to lose all ties to myself to find the beast – and to let it take over.”

You stared blankly at him, eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t follow.”

“My humanity, Lamb.” Sanemi’s knuckle caressed your cheek. “As I said, I may now be a Wolf, sweet girl, but I was born a human – as was Genya.” His eyes tightened, a heaviness settling over his features. “My heart remains so, even if the rest of me is not.” His hands dropped to yours and he guided you gently to the fireplace, tugging you down to sit with him upon the great fur rug spread before the hearth. “So long as I have my humanity, the seal will never be broken. It is why I can shift into Wolf form – I have control over myself so long as I remain me.”

You leaned your head against his chest, quietly mulling over his words. “What would make you lose your humanity, though?”

“Nothing,” the Huntsman replied smoothly. “Which is why you have nothing to fear, my Lamb.”

“Since I answered your question, I have something I want to discuss with you as well.” He reached out to run the tip of his finger down your nose. His eyes softened at your slight giggle, and he audibly gulped when the grin slid from your face as you leaned in closer, waiting.

“What is it?”

“You mentioned – the first night we arrived,” Sanemi started; though he steadily held your gaze, there was a heat simmering in his eyes and a faint blush that crept onto his cheeks. “You asked that I give you pups — children.”

You flushed as the memory in question sprang to the forefront of your mind. The Huntsman was being far too generous in his recollection – you were quite certain you’d asked him to do something far more…scandalous than simply grant you the gift of bearing his children. Breed me, Wolf! You’d cried. Give me your children – your pups!

“Is it even possible?” You asked quietly. “That I might bear your children?”

Sanemi was quiet for a moment before nodding, slowly. “Once, it was not uncommon for Wolves to mate with humans – particularly, human women.” He leaned forward to cup your cheek. “The pups that were born from such unions had just as much power and strength as their pure-Wolf counterparts.” He paused, considering. “Sometimes, they were stronger.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist. “And what of your curse?” You asked gently. “Would that be passed on?”

The Huntsman tensed slightly before he relaxed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, Lamb. The curse of the Werewolf cannot be passed along through offspring.”

Though you felt slightly relieved at his reassurance, you took care not to show it. “And you said it was your duty to impregnate me – as my mate,” you shifted forward, knees straddling his thighs as you settled in his lap. “Is that true? Is that the purpose of the mating bond?”

“Once,” Sanemi’s voice was hoarse, and his eyes dropped to your lips. “The mating bond was originally used for breeding purposes, yes.” You felt his cock stir beneath his breaches as one hand stretched behind him to steady himself, the other settling on your waist. “But that’s no longer its sole function,” a tendon in his neck pulsed as you began to softly rock against his groin. “Shinobu marked her nymph, though she cannot impregnate the girl. They are still tied – out of love.” Sanemi’s eyes dropped to your shoulder, where the silvery crescent of your own mark peeked through the collar of your blouse. “And I marked you for the same – not to mate and seed you, but to protect you.” His fingers ghosted along your sides, and even through the layers of your skirts and corset, you could feel his heat burning your skin. “Out of love.”

“But is that something you want, Wolf?” You trailed your fingers along the sharp curve of his jaw until they slid into his hair. “To fill me with children?” You leaned in until you felt his warm breath brush against your lips. “To breed me?”

A strained sigh of your name blew past Sanemi’s lips. “I can understand that you might say things while I’m inside you that you do not mean,” And though his hands stroked along the curve of your legs, pushing your skirts up as they went, there was a solemnity in his gaze. “But you do not owe me your body that way.”

You knew he meant it. “And if I wanted you to use my body for such a purpose?” Your thighs squeezed around him as you pushed yourself up his lap slightly so your lips hovered over his. “If I wanted to bear your children?”

Sanemi’s lips chased yours, but you rose just far enough out of his reach. “Then I would do everything in my power to see your wish granted.” His hand caught the side of your jaw, his fingers curling into your hair to still you. “I would give you as many as you desired.”

He pulled your face back down level with his. Just before he could reconnect your lips, you whispered, “I want it, Sanemi. Fuck a child into me.”

Sanemi sprang forward with a speed that made you squeal. Rather than finally close the distance between your lips, Sanemi laid you back against the rug sprawled before the great hearth, caging your body against the cabin floor with his.“If your wishes be true, then I won’t hold back,” he promised, his hips pressing heavily down against yours. You tried to fidget beneath him, to roll against him and feel the hardness that signaled he was ready to claim you, but Sanemi only pinned you harder against the floor. “But if there is even the slightest doubt in your mind, you must tell me at once,” and you froze at the gravity of his tone. “My instincts are to claim you as many times as necessary until my seed takes, Lamb.” His eyes darkened with his sensual promise. “Even if that means I have to fully shift to knot you; I won’t stop until I’ve succeeded.” His tone dripped with caution and yet you could not for the life of you imagine why he felt the need to warn you – as though you weren’t precisely aware of the stakes involved in asking a Wolf to breed you. “Is that what you want?”

As though you’d want anything else. “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, that is what I want.”

The Huntsman’s pupils blew wide, and his breath became ragged. Your fingers lanced up his forearms, tensed and braced on either side of your shoulders. “Put your babe in my womb.” Your words made the bulge in the Wolf’s trousers grow harder. "Let me make you a father, Sanemi."

Wetness pooled between your thighs as your cunt pulsed with need, and Sanemi’s nostrils widened. “The gods as my witnesses,” he vowed, finally rolling his hips heavily against yours and granting you the stimulation you so desperately craved. “I will never be able to deny you, Lamb.” His mouth crashed down against yours and greedily, you drank him in, meeting each fervent stroke of his tongue with yours as it slid past your lips. His hands were urgent as they combed down your body, fisting and tugging at your dress as it slid up your legs. He broke away from your lips with a ragged pant, his mouth trailing hotly down your neck.

“After tonight, the next time I fuck you will be as a Wolf,” Sanemi swore as he shoved the hems of your skirts up. “But if I have to wait any longer to be inside you, I will go mad.” Once he tugged the bodice of your corset down far enough to free your breasts, Sanemi’s hands flew to the seam of his trousers to yank on the lacing securing them around his hips. With a hurried swiftness, he shoved them down just enough for his cock to spring free, already hard and leaking. He lined the flushed tip of his length up with your entrance. “How many, Lamb?” He asked as he gave one great thrust, embedding himself to the hilt inside your warmth without preamble. Your breath was sucked straight from your lungs as Sanemi began to move, fucking into you hard and deep on the cabin floor. “How many pups shall I put in your belly?”

You only moaned, your thighs widening to allow him to hit deeper. Since first taking his knot, you’d had the Wolf in more ways than you could count, but there was something about this – this frenzied, passionate romp that made you melt further into the great rug upon which Sanemi now fucked you. “Five?” Sanemi’s voice beckoned you back from the folds of endless pleasure he stoked with every push and grind of his hips. “Perhaps six?”

Your hips bucked wildly up from the floor to meet his frantic thrusts. “A-as many as you w-want,” you gasped, and your promise only made Sanemi fuck you harder. “I w-want to be a good m-oh.” Your eyes rolled back as the Wolf wound one arm around your hips and braced the other against the cabin floor, allowing him to plunge faster and deeper into you. “A g-good mate,” your voice was little more than a squeak. “I w-want – oh, Sanemi.” The floorboards beneath you creaked as Sanemi repositioned his knees to roll harder into you. Every snap of his hips against yours was calculated and powerful, and it was all you could do to keep yourself open to him to use for this most sacred purpose – to breed.

“However many times it takes,” he vowed. “I’ll fill you up with as many little ones as your heart desires.”

A high-pitched whine keened from your throat as you clenched harder around him. Your nails raked down his back and sunk into the firm muscles of his backside, pushing him closer and closer to you. It only spurred the Wolf on, Sanemi driving his cock into you with greater ferocity as the arm beneath your lower back forced you to arch into him even more. “Even if that means I have to keep you spread out in our bed for days, stuffed full of my seed,” Sanemi’s other hand pressed down below your navel, and you felt the tip of his cock brush against your innermost wall. His hand was large enough that his thumb could still stretch down and swirl around the nub between your legs. “If that’s what it takes, I swear I will do it – your belly will be swollen with my child by spring.” With his every stroke, the pleasure in your gut mounted and you knew it would not be long before you came apart completely. “If we are together, I will be inside you. From now until my seed quickens in your womb.” His head tipped back slightly as he angled his hips up, plunging even deeper than before. Your walls clenched tighter around him and Sanemi moaned, loudly and without restraint. “Can you handle that, Lamb? Can you handle what it will take to give you what you crave?”

The grip you had on reality grew more tenuous by the second, the Huntsman’s movements threatening to chase every last sane thought from your head. You spoke before you lost the ability. “I crave you,” you cried. “I crave a family with you – one that is born from my love for you, Sanemi!”

His answering groan cracked. His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you flush against his base as he ground harder into you. "Our love," he panted, voice strained. “Our family shall be born from our love.” Sanemi’s breaths turned ragged. His head was thrown back, and his eyes screwed tightly shut as he moved against you without rhythm. “I am a beast,” he groaned between the filthy curses that tumbled freely from his mouth. “But you are my salvation – gods be damned – you’re fucking heaven, Lamb.”

Your cries grew loud enough to rattle the windows as Sanemi continued to drive himself deeper and deeper inside you until you swore you could feel the tip of his cock pushing against your gut. “S-Sanemi,” you whimpered, back arching even further from the floor. “Sanemi.”

“I need to be closer to you,” Sanemi yanked you up from the floor and puled your chest flush against his. He balanced you atop his lap where he knelt on the floor, trembling as his thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck – Y/N – hold onto me.”

The movement of your hips was beyond your control. It was all you could do to wrap your arms around the wide breadth of his shoulders and hold on while the Wolf bounced you up and down his twitching length. His hold around your middle made it almost difficult to breathe; his fingers promised to leave bruises where they dug into your skin, and yet, somehow, he still wasn’t holding you nearly tight enough.

With a snarl, Sanemi buried his face between your breasts, his mouth nipping and sucking its way across your chest, marking your skin with violent whorls of purple and red that he soothed with his tongue. “These shall be even more beautiful when filled with milk,” he muttered between harsh nips at one mound, his hand palming the other. “You’ll nurse our children so well, sweetling – don’t you see?” He jerked you harder against his lap to meet his frenzied movements. “Your body was made to be bred by me, Lamb. So – ngh– fuckin’ perfect.” Even through the boundless depths of the mind-numbling pleasure Sanemi stoked between your legs, you swore you could feel his cock begin to thicken with each plunge back into your heat. It had grown undoubtedly harder – almost impossibly so – but the sensation of his body began to echo that which you’d experienced during his heat in the cave.

But, it was clear from the way the Wolf drove up into you to the hilt, that no knot was forming at his base. Blearily, you forced your eyes to focus on him rather than allowing them to remain rolled up into your head as your mate worked you closer to your peak. To your surprise, you saw that Sanemi’s incisors had lengthened, sharpening into points closer to fangs than they were to human teeth. His eyes were still their usual shade of deep purple, but the whites around them had begun to glow, illuminating his irises into twin gemstones of amethyst.

It hit you, then, that Sanemi’s firm grip on his wolf form was slipping, and it had nothing to do with the moon cycle or his heat. He was losing control, simply too lost in his own instincts. It thrilled you. “Breed me, breed me please,” your sobs were almost incoherent. “I am yours, Wolf! Yours to fuck, yours to fill –”

“Mine,” he confirmed through clenched teeth. “Mine to mate. Mine to love.” With a growl, Sanemi tucked his face into the crook of your neck. A rapturous cry broke past your lips as the walls of your cunt seized down on his thick length, catapulting you into bliss. You were grounded only by a sharp prick of half-fangs before pleasure, unbounded and uncontrollable, slammed into you with such dizzying force that you began to sob.

Sanemi had sunk his teeth right into your mark, igniting a searing, electrifying euphoria that struck you like a bolt of lightning. Your mind disconnected from your body; you were utterly unaware of the scream that tore from your throat and your mate was in no mood to silence it, not as he sucked his claim harder into your skin and soothed its throbbing with his tongue. Your towering high only began to subside once Sanemi unlatched his mouth from your skin, and you would have melted into the rug beneath you had his arms not tightened around your waist, keeping you anchored to the moment – to him.

Sanemi came with a deep groan that was slightly muffled by the way he’d buried his face against your collarbone. His biceps rippled from the way he held you close as he pumped into you, flooding you with his rich warmth. The Huntsman’s hips finally stilled and he fell forward with you still wrapped tightly around him, his forearms shooting past you to brace behind you and keep you from thudding against the cabin floor. Once settled, Sanemi moved his hands to unwind your legs from where they were locked around his waist. Your soft whine of protest was soothed by his lips. “I need you to keep your legs up for me, sweetling.” He cooed, pushing your knees up until they nearly touched your chest. “We want to ensure all my seed reaches your womb.”

You mewled softly against the hollow of his throat, where you’d pressed your face. Your arms stretched lazily to wrap around his neck as you clung tightly to him, desperate to keep him close.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, lips brushing against the top of your shoulder. “All you have to do is let me put my babe in you, sweet Lamb. I’ll do all the work.”

Sanemi let his body settle against you, his weight holding your legs in place, locked tightly against your chest. His movements caused a slight dribble of his seed to escape over where the two of you remained joined, and you whined, mournful of its loss, but he was quick to soothe you. “Shh, Lamb, don’t worry,” he began slowly rolling his hips into yours, his cock still hard. “Whatever is lost, I will replace double.” True to his word, the Huntsman began to fuck his seed right back into your cunt before he gifted you yet another load. By the end of the hour, you were hardly able to keep your eyes open, your belly slightly bloated from how thoroughly he’d filled you again and again.

Sanemi rolled you atop him, allowing you to use his body as your bed. His hands smoothed down your sides until he could grip under your knees, and he pulled your legs up until they rested on either side of his waist. You squirmed slightly against him, your cunt still pulsing around his cock with the remnants of your final climax. You felt Sanemi smile against your forehead as he pressed a sweet kiss against your brow. “You’ll have to keep me warm for the night, Lamb.” His thumbs stroked small circles against the side of your thighs. “Since we don’t have my knot to keep all of me in you.”

“You can’t knot at will?” You settled against his chest, hips finally relaxing in your new position. Your eyes fluttered as sleep crept in, and you were too exhausted to try and move anymore.

“Only during my heats and the full moon,” Sanemi murmured. His arms wrapped around you, his warmth and mass a better blanket than even the soft furs piled atop your shared bed. “Speaking of which, there is a full moon in only five days’ time.”

You nodded, not bothering to stifle the yawn that slipped past your lips. “So you shall knot me again?”

“Aye, my sweet love,” he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “Though I don’t need it to fuck you full of my pups, but it certainly helps in that endeavor.” His hold around you tightened. “You shall make the most beautiful mother,” he whispered, his voice pure honey.

You burrowed harder into his chest, sighing as you let the comforting beat of his heart lull you closer to sleep. Before the sweet promise of temporary oblivion pulled you below its waves, you heard Sanemi’s fading voice speak once more.

“Our children will know they exist not because of any mating bond, but because their father loves their mother more than anything in this world.” His promise settled over you like the warmest of blankets, and you let the world around you disappear until you fell into dreams of flowers the color of your Huntsman’s eyes, perfumed with the scent of pine and woodsmoke; for even the deepest part of your subconscious recognized him as your home.

And so, you dreamed of him.

Your knowledge of your new home expanded as the Winter Solstice drew nearer. While Sanemi often spent the majority of the dwindling daylight patrolling along the borders of their land, he took great care to devote every bit of his free time to you. On a few occasions, he brought you on patrol with him, allowing you to ride upon his back as he flew through the Wood. The Wolves’ territory was massive; the valley of the dens resided in the exact middle of the territory. The extent of the bounds of the land was wider than it was long, and you’d gone slack jawed when Sanemi informed you that it took him and his pack almost an hour to run between the Eastern and Western borders, even fully shifted. When you weren’t accompanying Sanemi on his patrol duties, or spending time with Shinobu in her den, learning how to extract oils from certain herbs to make more potent medications, you roamed the area surrounding the dens on your own. You didn’t feel quite so confident as to risk venturing beyond the cliffside ravine near the lip of the Netherwood, but the presence of your cloak was enough to keep you comfortable as you searched for other plant life you’d learned about from reading one of Shinobu’s many, heavy bound texts.

Though, you supposed you couldn’t really say you were alone on such excursions; your ever-present shadow continued to lurk just out of sight. You wouldn’t have known he was still trailing after you at all, had you not been able to spy the fluttering edge of his violet traveling cloak from your periphery every time you made a sudden turn or whipped around, desperately hoping to catch him before he could duck behind the nearest tree or boulder.

You knelt upon the frozen earth and pulled a small pair of gardening shears from the folds of your cloak. “Genya?” you called, unable to suppress the small smile forming on your lips. “You can come closer, you know. I won’t bite.”

There was no answer. With a grunt of frustration, you returned to your task, cheeks heating in slight embarrassment at the way the boy continued to keep distance from you like you were some plague. In your exasperation, you wrenched your shears through a bough of witch hazel with more force than was likely necessary, nearly nicking your finger against the blade’s sharp edge. A sudden idea took form. You shifted where you knelt, keeping your back turned firmly toward where you thought Genya was lurking. Your hands concealed from view, you feigned a struggle with severing another branch from the bush. After a moment, you let the shears slip easily from your grip, sending them scuttling across the earth, and you let loose a mock-groan of frustration. You threw a glance back over your shoulder, pretending to search the trees. “I see you standing there,” you called. Won’t you please join me? Silence followed for a moment until a face slowly peeked out from behind a tree only a few yards away. You’ll have to keep needling him, Sanemi had warned you. He has always had an interest in forestry and plants. You smiled to yourself. “I’d appreciate some help cutting these branches,” you gestured to the small witch hazel bush. “I fear I might not have the strength to cut the branches on my own.”

A lie, but an effective one. Timidly, Genya shuffled out from his hiding spot behind the thick bark of an old, decaying tree and shuffled toward you, arms crossed tightly over his chest and his eyes cast downward. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice soft enough to be swallowed by the wind.

Despite the surge of triumphant delight that rocked through you, you kept your features neutral, for fear of running the boy off. “Here,” you pulled a spare pair of pruning shears free from the folds of your skirt and handed them to the young Wolf. “I’ve been hoping you would join me.”

Genya gingerly plucked the blade free from your fingers. He kept his face turned down toward the ground, in valiant effort to conceal the brilliant blush coloring his cheeks.

You smirked. The boy couldn’t conceal the fuschia hue coloring the tips of his ears, exposed by the unique cut of his hair. Your gloat, however, was short lived, as Genya mumbled something you hadn’t the dimmest hope of being able to discern. But you would not give in so easily. “You’ll have to forgive me,” you said lightly. “My hearing isn’t as sharp as a Wolf’s.”

The young Wolf nearly dropped his shears. “I – I uh –” he sputtered, fumbling to re-secure his grip on the gardening tool. “I s-said, I thought you’d – you’d w-want – that you’d need someone to watch out for you.”

You kept your focus on the task at hand, sawing through the thick branches of the witch hazel bush and tossing your bounty to the side to be stripped once you’d gathered enough. “I appreciate it -- I’ve wanted company while gathering for Shinobu for some time.”

Genya’s blush did not fade, not even as you walked him through the process of stripping the witch hazel leaves, showing him how to tell the good branches from the bad, and how to best avoid any nicks from the shears if they slipped against the reedy bark of the branch wood. A silence settled over the pair of you as you worked, though it did not bother you. You’d grown used to soloing this task, after all, and you were rather grateful for the young Wolf’s presence by your side, even if he remained silent. “Y-you’re not afraid,” Genya’s gruff voice cut through the frosty winter air like a blade. You turned to him, curious. “Of us, I mean,” he said quickly, busying himself with stripping a branch of witch hazel with the sharp edge of his shears. “You’re human and you don’t seem frightened.”

You turned your attention back to the branches piled before you, hands resuming their task of sorting the good branches from the bad. “I’ve seen far worse than a few Wolves since entering the Netherwood,” you said dryly. “Your pack is perhaps the least frightening thing around for miles.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Genya purse his lips. “You weren’t afraid of Aniki – brother?”

“How do you mean?”

“In the past…other humans tended to be afraid of him -- his scars.” He hastily added. “Sometimes they’d even turn away his aid.” Genya’s eyes flickered shyly to you. “Were you? Frightened by him?”

“Of Sanemi?” you repeated with an airy laugh. You sat back on your haunches and hummed in thought, considering.

“Yes and no,” you decided after a moment. “I was frightened when I first saw him – but not because of him.” You dropped a few stripped branches into your basket and brushed the dirt from your hands. “By the time I found Sanemi, I’d been on the run for more than a day. I imagine I would have been startled by my own shadow, had I been able to see it.”

Genya said nothing, but it was clear he clung onto every word you spoke given the way his hands stilled, halting his task.

“It became clear rather quickly that he truly meant to help me,” you continued, smiling softly. “So no, I was not afraid of him; in fact, I found him rather vexatious at first.” You shot Genya a knowing wink. “Your brother can be rather aloof when he desires it. He was quite good at avoiding my efforts to make conversation.” You thought for a moment, and then laughed quietly under your breath. “Though, if you asked him, I’m certain he’d tell you he found me just as irksome.

The younger Shinazugawa remained silent for a moment, pondering. “My brother — he really cares for you.” Genya’s voice was so soft you almost strained to hear him. “I’ve never seen him so…,” the boy trailed off, grimacing as he struggled for the word. “Soft, I s’ppose. Not until you.” Genya’s head suddenly snapped to you in wide-eyed alarm. “D-don’t tell him I said that. He might bite my head off.”

You smiled as you wrenched another branch free from the witch hazel shrub. “I shall take it to my grave.”

Genya responded to your promise with a soft smile. For an hour, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the occasional question from him about life in the human village, his curiosity growing with your every reply. Eventually, he began to fidget beside you, his anxiety almost palpable. You were about to suggest returning home, when he suddenly dropped his shears, letting them thud to the earth.“You said you only came into the Netherwood because you were being pursued,” Genya’s words tumbled quickly out of his mouth. “Is that person still after you?”

The suddenness of the question – and the unexpected tangle it created in your mind -- took you by surprise. You turned to him and saw your own stunned expression on the young Wolf’s face, as though he, too, was taken aback. Genya’s blush returned. “F-forgive me – it wasn’t my place –”

“I don’t know,” the confession slipped out of your mouth before you could think the better of it. “I’d like to believe he’s given up, but that doesn’t align with the Douma I know.” A thin sheen of sweat coated your palms, and absently, you rubbed your hands against your outer skirt. “And I also know it would be foolish to believe nearly a month without incident means that I am free from his torment. But I –,” you faltered, head dropping to stare at your hands where they rest in your lap.

Genya shifted uncomfortably beside you. “You – you’re part of our pack, now.” His voice cracked slightly, but there was a firm conviction to his words. “Brother is strong, and I – I can fight, too. So can Shinobu.”

Slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet the young’s boy’s. Your heart swelled as you recognized the stern assurance and determination in the boy’s gaze, even in spite of the reddening of his cheeks.

“And – and you’re safe here,” he finished somewhat lamely, but the weight of his promise held.

“Thank you, Genya,” you said quietly. “Truly, thank you. And thank you for letting me into your pack.”

The boy’s flush nearly matched the purple of his traveling cloak. “’S nothing,” he mumbled, embarrassed once more. His hand reached behind him to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “’Sides, once Gyomei and ‘Suri come back, you’ll have even more of us looking out for you.”

You gave him a wan smile, unable to bring yourself to admit that was precisely the opposite of what you wanted. The thought that Sanemi and the others would potentially put themselves in harm’s way for your sake was a thorn in your conscience you couldn’t seem to shake, and its piercing stab only grew more intense as the days passed.

Genya, thankfully, was oblivious to your inner anguish. “Let’s go, sister,” he shot up, dusting his hands off on his breeches.

You looked up at him in surprise, a soft smile forming on your lips. “Sister?”

The boy turned bright red. “Well – you’re Aniki’s – and that makes you –,”

You couldn’t stop the laugh building in your chest, thankful for the distraction. “It is perfectly all right, Genya,” you assured the stuttering young Wolf. “You can call me sister; I don’t mind.”

Genya nodded jerkily, still bright red. His brother’s influence on his manners, however, was clear, as the boy offered you his arm. Smiling, you looped yours through his, your basket full of witch hazel tucked safely in the crook of your free arm.

“Shall we?” You asked, and the pair of you set off back toward the Wolf dens – toward home.

You returned to your cabin den before Sanemi and tried to busy yourself by preparing the fire. Since your arrival, you’d filled the Huntsman’s cupboards with pots and jars stuffed full of herbs and preserved foods for the winter ahead, and you found yourself shuffling them around on their shelves, desperately attempting to let your mind get lost in the task of reorganizing them according to their type of use. Your distractions, however, were unable to temper the restlessness buzzing beneath your skin like a horde of angry hornets, growing more incessant as the minutes trickled ceaselessly by. Eventually, you found yourself standing before the cabin’s main hearth, staring blanky into the fire as it crackled merrily away, filling the room with its cozy, orange glow. Despite its considerable size, you only pulled your shawl tighter around your shoulders, the comforting warmth of the flames unable to chase away the chill that seemed to linger on your skin.

A gust of early winter air dampened the strength of the fire as Sanemi pushed open the heavy oak door to your home, pausing only to quickly shake the snow from his boots before closing it quickly behind him. “I wouldn’t mind the winter so much if not for the damn snow,” he grumbled, tugging his cloak over his head and hanging it near the door. When you neither responded nor acknowledged his return, Sanemi turned toward you. “Lamb?” The Huntsman crossed the floor of the cabin until he too, stood before the hearth. A gentle hand grazed your shoulder, and his touch startled you from the maze that was your mind.

Your eyes were wide as they lifted to meet his concerned gaze, though some of the tension eased from your shoulders at the sight of your mate standing beside you. “Apologies, I just --,” your voice faltered, and Sanemi leaned closer to you, his expression serious. “Do you think Douma will find us?” You asked quietly after a moment. Your hands began to nervously twist the folds of your shawl where you clutched it around your chest. “Will he continue hunting me until the ends of the earth?”

Sanemi shifted forward to take your hands into his own, stilling their fret. “Our land is mostly secured – and even the weakest of our borders hasn’t been breached in over a decade, Lamb.”

His thumb moved soothingly over your knuckles. “And even if he could manage to track you all the way here, it wouldn’t matter. He’d have to get past several wolves, each of whom is more than dedicated to protecting their own.” One hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his. “That doesn’t even begin to touch what I would do to him – what I would do to keep you safe.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into the sturdy warmth of Sanemi’s touch. “All I want is to be free,” you whispered. “To live without fear of the shadows lurking over my shoulder.”

The Huntsman’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Where is this coming from, Lamb? We’ve not had any encounters with those men since before I marked you.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a frown, your hand running nervously through your hair. “But I feel an unease that I can’t shake. It is as though something is pulling at me, trying to get my attention – like I need to be on guard.”You pursed your lips. “Douma has never struck me as the type to give up the chase. I half expect to see him waltzing through the trees with a small army of his sycophants, ready to string me up.”

Sanemi’s eyes were full of concern as you rambled on, anxiety bubbling into panic in your stomach. “That I might bring that sort of chaos right to your door – that I might threaten your pack – I cannot bear it, Sanemi.”

“My love, you have nothing –”

“He skinned my grandmother alive, Sanemi.” You whispered. “A helpless old woman, and he treated her like an animal. What do you think he would do if he were to capture you? Your brother?” The rate of your breathing increased until you were nearly panting, struggling to get enough air into your lungs. “What if he harms you, harms your family? What if –”

“Y/N, shh,” your anxious chatter was silenced as Sanemi shot to cup you by the back of your skull and pull you in. The hand splayed across the back of your head tucked you tightly under his chin, his other arm winding to curl around your waist and crush you against his solid form. His fingers rubbed soothingly against your scalp. “I will not let anything happen to you, Lamb.” His lips whispered against your hair. “I’ll protect you, I swear it.” It was difficult not to melt within the comforting cage created by his arms as he cradled you close. Your cheek rested against the warm skin of his chest, and beneath you could feel the steady beat of his heart. “My body is yours. My life is yours. There is nothing I wouldn’t do – nothing I wouldn’t become, if it meant keeping you safe.”

You shook your head. “Don’t say that,” your arms wrapped around his hips and squeezed, holding him close. “Your curse – your humanity is far more important.”

Sanemi gently pulled your head back and tilted your face up, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. “No, Lamb. You misunderstand.” His thumb dropped down to run over your bottom lip. “You are my humanity.” He dipped low to brush a sweet kiss against your lips before he tucked you back against his chest, his hand smoothing over the back of your head. “So long as we are together, no harm will come to us – any of us.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let yourself melt in his embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear more soothing than any lullaby. You wanted to protest; you wanted to tell him that Douma had garnered a reputation in your village for being merciless in his pursuits. After all, after his first two wives disappeared, the family of the third had tried desperately to get their daughter out of her engagement once the proposal arrived; they’d even begged the Village Head for an official decree banning the marriage, offering to pay handsomely in exchange for their daughter remaining unbound. It hadn’t mattered; Douma forced the wedding within the week, and by the time the sun rose the next morning, rumors of her disappearance were already snaking their way through the markets. Barely a month later, Kotoha had received her proposal.

But you wanted to believe Sanemi; you wanted to believe it had been enough, that his mating mark had altered your scent until you were nearly untraceable, and that you would be spending your days here, with your Wolf, happy and free. You wanted it more than you’d ever wanted anything. So, you burrowed further against Sanemi’s sturdy warmth, and you let his scent – pine and something spicy and smoky – envelope your senses and chase all thoughts of the Village Worship leader from your mind.

And you let yourself believe him.

——

Your restlessness eased considerably over the following days until Douma’s lingering phantom faded to the back of your mind, barely more than an easily disregarded whisper. Rather, your newfound bond with Genya occupied a great deal of attention, the boy now a constant presence by your side during the day. Despite his rather fearsome appearance, the young Wolf followed you around like an over-eager puppy, jumping to volunteer to carry your basket once you’d sufficiently loaded it with materials to replenish Shinobu’s stock of medicinal herbs and your own cupboard. You didn’t mind; Kotoha had been the closest thing you’d had to a sibling, and his shy kindness and readiness to help in whatever way he could started to fill the void she’d left behind. You grew closer with Shinobu as well, the young Shifter grateful for the presence of another woman. She’d even gifted you with a few new skirts and decorated outercorsets from her closet, waving off your protest over accepting the clothing without payment. As it turned out, she’d purchased them for Mitsuri, but her mate, like most Nymphs, preferred to wear less, no matter the season. As fortune would have it, your height was close to that of the Naiad’s, and the garments fit comfortably.

Above all, your love for Sanemi only deepened with each passing day. As much as you found yourself longing for the silkiness of his touch and the warmth of his smile whenever he was away, by far, the best part of your day was when he returned home. The moment he stepped past the threshold of your shared cabin, his arms would find you, and then lips, as he held you like the most precious thing to ever walk the earth.

He'd grown even clingier than usual as the Solstice approached. One particular evening had seen him hastily entering the cabin, barely discarding his cloak and axe before he’d hurriedly crossed the floor and swept you into his arms, crushing you against him. You chalked it up to the impending change in the lunar cycle, as you’d felt a similar need to be near to him as both the Winter Solstice and full moon loomed near. But that morning, he rose even earlier than usual, setting out well before the first rays of dawn had begun to peek over the horizon. Ever the gentleman, he’d still taken the time to properly fill you before departing, leaving you half-asleep but content with his warmth between your legs and a gentle kiss against your brow. Itt was well past dark when he returned. You’d been standing over the clay stove, heating water to make tea, when the front door to the den pushed open, an icy gust of early winter air rushing past him before he latched it shut. You called out your greeting, eyes focused on grinding up a portion of peppermint leaves to steep. Even with your back turned to him, you could feel the weight of Sanemi’s stare as he silently crossed the cabin floor to you, your heart skipping as the burning heat of his body drew nearer. A pair of muscled, scarred arms gently encircled your waist from behind, tugging you back against his solid form. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you savored the way his scent – woodsy and just a little spicy – enveloped your senses, washing over you until your body thrummed with want for him.

“There is something we should discuss,” he murmured quietly, his lips tickling the side of your neck as he skimmed his mouth across your skin. His hands smoothed over your belly and hips in unhurried, repeated strokes. From the growing bulge that had begun to dig into your backside, you could guess what discussions the Huntsman had in mind.

Your head thudded back against his pectoral, eyes fighting a losing battle against rolling up into your head at the intoxicating feel of his touch. “I’m listening.”

“I told you once before that I would shift while claiming you – fully,” Sanemi’s breath was hot as he exhaled against your neck, his body warm and tight where it pressed into every curve of yours. “And with each day that passes, I find it more and more difficult to restrain myself from doing so.”

Your stomach fluttered. You turned in his embrace and peered up at him through half-lidded eyes. “I don’t want you restrained.”

The Huntsman groaned as he dipped his head lower to trail his nose along your neck. “You say such dangerous things, Lamb.”

“Do you want to take me as a wolf, Sanemi?”

A beat of silence followed. “It is a rite of sorts,” he said carefully, his eyes tracking your face for your reaction. “For wolves to mount their mates in their natural form. It is meant to be the ultimate expression of the bond.”

“And,” he added, and his cheeks turned slightly pink. “Knotting as a wolf…tends to have more success in terms of siring pups.”

A luscious burn spread down your body from your mating mark at the implication of his words. With slight amusement, you realized your bond was reacting to his desires – to breed his mate – and that you wanted nothing more than to help assuage his most primal urge. You brushed a kiss against his chest, right over his thundering heart. “Then I am ready,” you said, simply. “You know what I desire – take me; claim me again.”

Sanemi’s lips pressed hard against the top of your head, and he sighed deeply as he inhaled your scent. You took it as an assent to your offer. “How should we start?” You whispered, tilting your head up to search his eyes. You ran your hands up and down the steely length of his forearms in an effort to sooth bothe his nerves and your own. “Shall we begin as we did in the cave?”

Sanemi’s grip around your waist tightened. “It won’t be here, Lamb,” he nuzzled his nose against yours. “This space,” he nodded to the cozy den around you. “Is too small for me to shift fully.”

“And I do not want to risk breaking anything,” he added sheepishly after a moment.

The weight of his promise – that Sanemi would indeed assume his full Wolf form while claiming you, taking that final step in making you utterly and indelibly his — sent heat flaring through your veins. But the excitement tittering within you was tempered as you considered the implication of his words. “Then — will you not take me tonight?” You fought the frown threatening to betray your rising disappointment.

Sanemi’s hand smoothed over your hair. “No, Lamb – this can happen now,” and his words made your thighs clench together. “Tonight will be a full moon. I have already made arrangements; we just have to travel a little way. But — are you sure you’re ready? I will not ask anything of you that you don’t want.”

You stretched up on your toes until only a breath separated your lips. “I want you, Wolf.” Your whisper made Sanemi’s eyes darken. “I want you in every sense of the word.”

Your hand crept up the unbuttoned collar of his tunic, savoring the warm, scar-crossed skin of his chest. Sanemi’s eyes fluttered under the silkiness of your touch. “Lamb –”

“I’m yours,” you breathed, leaning in to just barely graze your lips against his. “Utterly and completely yours.”

The Huntsman’s eyes remained shut for a moment longer as he exhaled once, long and slow. Your belly flipped at the hoary silvery glow beginning to tint the plum of his eyes when he opened them once more, pinning you with the intensity of his gaze.

“Look at me,” Sanemi caught your jaw in his hand, his grip gentle and firm. “And listen well.”

The quiet command stilled you and hitched the breath in your throat. His stare was formidable; at times, the vehemence of his gaze made you want to squirm, to curl in on yourself and hide. No one had ever looked at you with the same fiery zeal as Sanemi did. Often, you thought he might be looking straight through you, choosing instead to peer directly into your soul to assess you and everything you were. Yet, despite it all, you would happily peel yourself back, flesh and bone, and bare yourself to him if he asked. For if he were to examine your heart, he would see only his reflection, and he would know it belonged to him.

The way the Huntsman’s pupils dilated made you think he had, given how his hold on you tightened. “If at any time tonight things become…overwhelming,” Sanemi swallowed hard. “Or if you feel any pain or discomfort – and I mean any,” he stressed as your lips parted in protest. “You must tell me at once.”

“It won’t,” you insisted. “I will be fine –”

The sound of your name on the Huntsman’s lips made you fall silent. “If it gets to be too much, tell me to stop and I will. I swear it.”

There was an urgency in his eyes that made you pause. He was conflicted; torn between his desire for you and his fear of causing you harm. Your eyes softened, and your hand found his cheek, Sanemi leaning into the warmth of your touch. “I will.” You promised, and you meant it. For as much as it was clear Sanemi could not stomach the thought of causing you pain, you also could not fathom being the cause of his.

The Wolf nodded and swallowed hard. “Then come with me.”

The Solstice arrived and with it, had brought the full force of winter to the Netherwood. The cold was so sharp it made your lungs burn with every step, and the generous layer of snow coating the ground slowed your pace. Above you, the moon hung fat and silver in the sky, its light reflecting off the pristine white the thick blanket of white which had settled over the land, bright enough that you easily could have seen the land around you even without the flickering lantern Sanemi held out before you. With his free hand wrapped securely around yours, the Huntsman led you away from the small clusters of cabins and deeper into the Wood, the whipporwills and the jays having long since retired for the night.

On and on you walked alongside the brook that ran through the valley, until you drew upon the mouth of the stream, which widened into a small, rushing creek. There, you split away from the water, Sanemi guiding you into a line of evergreens packed tighter together than the small groves that separated the dens. You traveled until the dim lights from Shinobu’s and Genya’s homes faded, the darknes of the small pocket swallowing you whole. Sanemi’s thumb stroked soothingly over your knuckles as you trekked deeper into the brush, until the pair of you came upon a small clearing among a circle of trees.

On one side of the clearing – no more than three or four lengths across – crackled a small fire, just large enough that you could feel its warmth from where you stood. Lining the outer rim of the dell was an assortment of candles, all mismatched and of varying height, but each lit and flickering gently in the cold winter air. The effect of the candles bathed the clearing in a soft, warm glow, carving out a small sanctuary in the middle of the shadowy and mysterious Wood. Your eyes were drawn to the center of the clearing. There was a small divot, where snow had been gathered and pushed to the sides, revealing the frozen ground below. The ground, however, had been covered, as Sanemi had assembled a pile of clean furs, piles one on top of the other to form a soft bed.A nest; almost identical to the one he’d made in the cave den before his heat.

Romantic; that was the only word you could conjure to adequately describe the cozy display before you. It was utterly romantic. “Is this what you were doing today?” You dared not speak above a whisper, for fear of disturbing the intimate ambience so carefully curated by your mate. “Were you preparing this?”

“Aye,” Sanemi said hoarsely. “I wanted you to be comfortable – as comfortable as possible.”

“It is beautiful, Sanemi,” you pushed your chest against his lower abdomen, your arms winding around his waist as you peered up at him through your eyelashes.

The Huntsman’s hand caressed your cheek before it tilted your head up. Sanemi expressed his gratitude at your praise not with his words, but with his lips as he crushed you gently to him. You remained locked together for a while, lips moving slowly together in a sweet kiss that starkly contrasted with what you knew was about to unfold.

He broke your kiss with a soft moan, his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you close. Sanemi’s eyes bore heavily into yours, neither one of you daring to blink as his fingers trailed lightly from your shoulders to the front stays of your corset. Though he did not speak, you could see the question brimming in his eyes, and your chin dipped down in an almost imperceptible nod. The Huntsman held your gaze as his hands made quick work of the corset’s laces before he laid the garment carefully to the side. Sanemi then lifted your blouse over your head, his eyes never straying from yours even as your upper torso became exposed, your nipples pebbling against the bite of the winter air. The heady connection of your stare remained strong, even as he knelt to the ground before you, his warm, broad hands dragging down the chilled skin of your chest and midriff. You felt your cheeks flush as Sanemi’s lithe fingers began to work the buttons securing your skirts around your waist. The fabric loosened and your mate tugged each skirt down your hips, his mouth pressing hotly against the exposed skin just below your belly button, all while keeping his eyes locked with yours. His hands then found the tops of your wool stockings where they were secured around the middle of your thighs, and he rolled them down, one by one.

Arousal flared between your legs and you did not miss the way his eyes darkened almost to black as he drank you in, fully bare before him in that snowy enclosure. He rose slowly to full height until he towered over you once more, his eyes still burning into yours. A finger ghosted along your cheekbone. “Go lay down on the nest,” his voice was as soft as the caress against your face. “And open your legs.”

You obeyed his command without a word, lowering yourself to the bed of furs gathered on the ground. You propped yourself up on your elbows and your eyes remained fixed on Sanemi’s as you drew your knees up slightly before letting your legs fall open, baring yourself to him.

The fire in Sanemi’s eyes was nothing short of ravenous. “Touch yourself, Lamb,” he ordered as his hands rose to the laces on his breeches. “Touch yourself as I would.”

Beginning at your collarbone, you lightly dragged your right hand down the length of your body, pausing at one of your breasts to circle it, teasingly. Sanemi’s knuckles tightened around the fastenings of his trousers as you pinched your nipple between your fingers and cried out, another rush of wetness surging between your thighs under the weight of his dark stare. His breeches loosened, Sanemi grabbed a fistful of his tunic and hauled it over his head, exposing his mouthwateringly chiseled form. You fought the urge to clamp your thighs together at the sight of his body, so hard yet so warm, and so very capable of setting every nerve in your body aflame with want.

But your Wolf had given you an order, and you were desperate to show him how good – how obedient – his mate could be. And so, your hand continued its descent down your body, skirting from hipbone to hipbone before you dipped between your thighs – right where you knew he wanted. Your breath caught in your throat at the first brush of your fingers against your slit, already hypersensitive from the anticipation bubbling hotly within you. You were soaked – your arousal was already leaking forth, dampening your outer folds. With a shaky moan, your fingers spread wide the lips of your core, exposing your need. You gathered your wetness and spread it around your entrance, your legs trembling. Sanemi’s eyes were dark and full of want as he regarded you, bare before him and waiting.

Your lower lip quivered. “Sanemi.”

Instantly, he pounced, mouth moving feverishly against yours as he covered your body with his. His hands roamed every inch of your skin, grabbing and massaging whatever part of you he could reach, as though he could consume you simply through his touch. “I promise I will be good to you,” he murmured between desperate kisses. “I will be so good to you, little Lamb.” Sanemi pulled roughly away from you, breath fast and hard. “But I need to prepare you, first.”

You pushed your hips up against his with a whine. Boldly, your fingers latched around his wrist and tugged his hand between your thighs, pressing it flush against your folds, already slick with your desire.

The Huntsman could not stop his fingers from dipping between your slit, the action pure muscle memory. “I’m ready now,” you insisted.

Sanemi groaned as your honey coated his digits. His calloused yet gentle fingers spread your wetness around, swirling your sensitive bead before dipping lower, bringing it to your aching entrance. He mouthed at your breast, sucking a pert nipple between his lips to stifle another rumbling moan. “You’re ready to take me as I am now — but not yet as a Wolf,” his voice was strained. A single finger dipped inside your entrance and you moaned, your head falling back against the furs. “Do you trust me, Lamb?”

How could you not? How could you do anything but trust him, when he added a second finger inside you to join the first, his digits steadily pumping into you while curling and brushing against that sweet spot that only your precious Huntsman knew how to find?

Sanemi slowed the pace of his hand. “I need to hear you speak, sweetling.”

“Yes!” You gasped, hips rotating wantonly as you tried to stimulate yourself against him. “I trust you — just please, don’t stop —“

Your pleas broke off with a whine as Sanemi resumed the measured thrusts of his hand into your core. His thumb swirled and pressed against your nub, and before long, your thighs trembled and ached as your first climax drew near. When the Huntsman added a third finger, you swore, your back arching off the nest as your high washed over you, Sanemi’s name a fervid oath on your lips. The fourth finger had you crying out in both overstimulated pleasure tinged by the sweetest pain. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes as Sanemi spread his fingers wide inside you, touching parts of you you hadn’t known could be reached.

The sight of you writhing beneath him made the bulge between his legs grow painfully hard, his cock straining against his breeches. If he did not avail himself of the relief of your sweet body soon, he would end up soiling yet another pair of his pants.

Regretfully, Sanemi removed his thumb from your swollen clit. He dragged it down the center of your core until it reached your entrance, where he pressed down just above your opening and waited. Your eyes flew open at his signal. You looked down your body at him in alarm, your moans turning to squeaks the more Sanemi’s hand continued to work inside you. The Huntsman struggled to control his breathing as he looked over your disheveled appearance. Your cheeks were dark, and tendrils of your hair stuck to the edges of your temples and against your neck, the skin there sweat dampened and flushed. A gush of fluid surged from between your thighs as you realized he was waiting for your permission. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip. “I-I don’t know if I can —“ you started but Sanemi was quick to soothe.

“Just one more finger, Lamb, I promise,” he panted. “You can take it, sweet girl, I know you can.”

Your stomach clenched tightly but you nodded anyways, your heart pounding at the way his eyes darkened at your assent. Your chest was heaving as you felt the last of Sanemi’s digits prod your entrance, the others deep within your silken heat and still working you open. You could do it, you chanted to yourself. You had to do it — or else he’d stop, and you thought you’d die if he did. There was a slight pressure that made you wince, and then pleasure; warm, rolling pleasure, that made you spread your legs wider. “That’s my good girl,” Sanemi murmured, eyes locked on your face, darkening at the way your mouth fell open in a silent scream.

The Huntsman began to pump away, his fingers moving to massage and stretch your inner muscles. For a moment, even through the thick fog of pleasured bliss clouding your mind thanks to the Wolf’s ministrations, you were confused as to how he was able stroke different parts of your inner walls at the same time, rather than focusing on one or two spots as he normally did. You felt two fingers curl up, stroking that spot near the top of your groin that made you drool, while the other two continued to push deeper.

It struck you then that the Wolf had his entire hand buried deep inside your core.

“You’re doing so well, sweetling,” Sanemi’s other hand closed around your breast, squeezing softly. His fingers closed around your nipple, pinching it in time with the movements of the hand between your legs. He smirked at your needy whine, your hips churning desperately against his hand which was buried to the wrist inside your aching heat. “You’ll be able to take me soon, precious Lamb, I promise.” The Huntsman covered your body with his own, allowing his wrist to settle against your neglected pearl. You cried out as he began to press it into the apex between your thighs, the stimulation jolting your hips into movement of their own accord. Mind disconnected from your body, you ground against the ridges of his wrist, and soon, you felt the familiar coil of release begin to tighten in your belly once more. “That’s it, darling,” he praised. “Look at you, working so hard to get yourself ready for your Wolf.”

His approval only spurned you to move faster, your hips wantonly gyrating against him. Sanemi dropped his head to your breast, sucking your nipple between his teeth. He swore as he felt you clench tighter around his hand, your climax quickly approaching. He pumped harder into you. “Can you take this Wolf’s knot, Lamb?” He cooed, unable to stop pride from swelling in his chest at the eagerness with which you nodded, pitiful whimpers tumbling from your lips. “Will you let this Wolf fuck you full of his seed? Keep you warm and happy?”

Sanemi knew you needed only a gentle push before you would topple over the edge. “You’re going to let me put a babe in your belly,” Sanemi twisted his hand at the exact moment he felt your muscles seize around him. “You’re going to let me fuck an entire litter into you, aren’t you sweet girl?”

That did it.

With a guttural scream you came apart, your back arcing sharply away from the furs below you with the force of your climax as Sanemi continued to pump his hand into you, teeth gritting as your velvet head closed around him like a vice. The Huntsman praised you as the thrashing waves of your pleasure quieted to soft tremors, until you sank back against the nest, your limbs liquified and your brain close to melting through your ears. “That’s it, sweetling,” he murmured as he slowly withdrew his hand from your fluttering, aching core, finger by finger. “Now I know you’ll be able to handle me.”

You stretched out blindly towards him, fingers curling in the air as you beckoned him to cover you, to sear his skin into yours. “I need you,” you cried. “I need you, Sanemi. Please.”

His hands tore his trousers from his legs and carelessly tossed them to the side. At the first sight of his cock, thick and hard, you cried out again, your mark burning with the ferocity of his need and yours. Your eyes dragged over the shape of his length, snagging on his tip, already an angry red and leaking. A new desire flared to life in your belly, different from that which you usually felt when you wanted your mate to hold your legs open and fuck you until you couldn’t recall any name but his. Rather, the urge now spurring you to sit up from the nest and crawl towards him, was one born from the overwhelming need to make as much of a mess of him as he often did to you.

He watched, bewildered as you crept over the furs to him, before raising yourself into a kneel. Perched delicately on your knees before him, you leaned forward and experimentally pressed your lips against the leaking head of his hardened member. Sanemi’s reaction was instant, punctuated by a sharp hiss of your name as his hips jolted reflexively toward you.

You paused and peered up at him with wide eyes. “Is – is that okay?”

“Yes, Lamb,” his reply was strained, his muscles taught and rigid. “It is more than okay.”

You hummed, bringing your lips back against his length, and the vibrations of your mouth made the Wolf above you whimper. One hand flew to the side of your head, his fingers lightly tugging insistently at your hair.

“I might start shifting –” he panted, barely suppressing another moan as you parted your lips around his twitching cockhead and flicked out your tongue. “Into my hybrid f-form – fuck.”

His warning was cut off as you opened your mouth, taking in the top quarter of his cock. It was difficult to keep your eyes glued to his face as you began to move, the sounds falling steadily from his mouth your only guide apart from pure instinct. You tried to bob your head, but your movements felt slightly awkward, and your stiffened jaw made it difficult to work more of him into the wet heat of your mouth. The Huntsman’s hand dropped from its hold on your hair, with the other, he gently gripped you on either side of your neck. You halted the movements of your mouth and turned your eyes up to meet his blazing stare. He swore softly. “Ease your jaw,” his voice was rougher than gravel, but his fingers were light as they massaged the sides of your neck. Against the soothing circles he worked into your neck, your jaw loosened. “There you go,” he murmured, his hands lifting to brace on either side of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair. “That’s my girl.”

To your relief, you found it easier to hold him in your mouth and you resumed the bobbing movements of your head. Your confidence mounted with every stroke, and boldly, you allowed your tongue to flex against the underside of his length.

It was the right thing to do; Sanemi’s grip on your hair tightened, but his hips jerked against you, a stilted moan of your name falling from his lips. “Beautiful,” he panted, his hips softly rocking against your movements as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. “You are utterly beautiful.”

It was messy, but you found that you didn’t mind the way your saliva slipped down your chin and dripped to your lap; you relished the way you steadily pushed the Huntsman closer and closer to the edge of his restraint, his muscles rippling as he tensed beneath your ministrations.

The first transformation happened more seamlessly than it did that first time in the cave. One moment, Sanemi was standing above you, his head thrown back as deep, wanton moans reverberated from his chest in time with every stroke of your tongue against his rigid length. The next, you felt him shudder, and the cock sliding in and out of your mouth began to thicken, complicating your ability to keep your cheeks hollowed around him.

A gentle brush of human fingers tipped with sharp, beastly claws through your hair was your only signal that the partial shift was complete. Slowly, you slid him out of your mouth with a wet pop! and sat back on your knees, face tilted up so you could study him in the moonlight.

Half-transformed, Sanemi was equal parts intimidating and beautiful. You’d thought that he’d grown somewhat when he partially shifted in the cave; now that you could see him better, you could tell exactly the ways in which his half transformation altered the body you’d come to know well.

The change in his eyes from lilac to silver, and the elongation of his fangs and ears were all familiar to you; it was the change in his manhood that was new. It stood straight up, nearly flush against his abdomen. It had grown longer and thicker than normal, his engorged tip bulbous and red as it smeared beads of his seed above his navel. The veins running long its underside were more pronounced, and you swore you could see the blood pulsing through them, making him twitch beneath the heat of your stare. At the base, his knot had already begun to form, and just below it, his balls were larger; fuller. Your mouth went dry at the thought of him emptying into you over and over until everything inside you had been thoroughly coated by his essence. The sight wrought forth a fresh wave of desire from between your legs, strong enough to make you whimper.

The Wolf’s nostrils widened, and the silver of his eyes grew nearly as bright as the moon above as he scented your arousal. “Turn,” he ordered with a deep growl, primal and domineering. “Knees.”

Your mark burned in response and you hastily scooted to the center of the nest to get in position. You laid your head down, cheek coming to rest against the soft furs below you. You fought to keep your breath even as you felt Sanemi’s clawed hands gently take hold of your hips, tilting them up so your backside was high in the air. You shifted your knees further apart in an attempt to balance your weight while still allowing yourself to present the dripping heat of your core for the Wolf at your back. Sanemi’s responding growl was low, his warm hand leaving your hip to slide over your exposed cunt, making you twitch. A single finger swirled appreciatively around your most sensitive spot, and you knew he approved of your new position.

You thought that he might taste you, given that he usually could not resist feasting on your cunt when presented the opportunity. But the warmth of his breath disappeared only to be replaced by the blunt press of the tip of his cock against your entrance, already clenching in anticipation. “Lamb,” he ran his tip up and down your slit, coating himself with your wetness. “Mine.”

Your breath choked out of you as Sanemi swiftly impaled you on his thick cock. Though your limbs initially stiffened in surprise at the suddenness of his movements, you quickly relaxed, your thighs spreading wider as you melted into the furs and sang his name in praise.

In response, Sanemi’s claws dug deeper into your hips as he jerked you harshly back in time with his brutal thrusts. Even during the first night of his heat, he hadn’t been this rough; his thrusts hadn’t been this bruising, this sharp. But the line between man and beast grew more and more blurred with every snap of his hips. You only wanted more. The clearing was filled with the sounds of Sanemi’s hips slapping roughly against your backside, though the clapping sounds of skin were not enough to drown out the steady stream of the Wolf’s low snarls or your growing cries of pleasure.

“Faster,” you managed to choke out. “Faster, Sanemi.”

His only reply came in the form of a growl, but he obliged. Sanemi’s hips began snapping against you with brutish speed and breathtaking force. Your limbs were steadily turning to mush, quivering and straining to keep you upright as Sanemi mercilessly laid his claim to your cunt. Again and again, the Huntsman slammed you back on his length, pulling desperate cry after cry from your lips, your pleasure rapidly overtaking every perception and coherent thought you possessed. You were ready to be lost amidst the euphoria of his body, resigned to be used for his pleasure and nothing more.

It happened without warning.

One moment, Sanemi was thrusting wildly into you from behind, hips unable to stop the repeated, frenzied push of his engorged cock into your velvet heat; the next, he fell over your back, his hands landing on the ground above your shoulder before he stilled entirely.Your chest heaved from a combination of the exertion from having spent the last several minutes being ruthlessly claimed by your mate and the anticipation over what you knew was about to happen.

There was a great ripple behind you that made you clench around the cock still buried deep inside you, pulling a single cry from your lips. Then you felt a pressure as Sanemi’s length grew thicker within you, pushing against your walls until you felt like you might split in two. You forced your eyes to remain open instead of squeezing shut at the discomfort of Sanemi shifting behind you. You focused instead on the way the joints in his fingers and hands beside you contorted and rippled until there was a burst of white fur, and his human-like hands were replaced by large paws with thick, wickedly curved claws. There was a faint tickle of fur against your back as Sanemi continued to shudder violently above you. The pressure within you increased again and again until you had to push yourself up onto your hands, locking your legs and arms in place to brace against the growing size of the Wolf at your back. With one final, great ripple, Sanemi stilled. Your lungs expanded painfully against your ribs with every heaving gasp, your knuckles white under the strain of your clenched fists, the furs balled tightly against your palms.

Above you was neither the man, nor any hybrid you knew; there was only the Wolf, panting hard as your walls clenched and squeezed around his length, your body trembling violently as it worked to adjust to the sheer size of the beast at your back. It was incredible; the line between excruciating pain and infinite pleasure had been blurred beyond recognition, leaving nothing behind but the distinct sensation of being filled so thoroughly, you did not think there was a crevice in your body that the Wolf did not occupy, filling you an unquenchable thirst for him to move; to fuck; to claim. Your arms were held rigidly straight and your knees were firmly planted beneath you, spread wide to balance your weight, but you trembled nonetheless against the force of his movements. There was nothing you could do but hold yourself up for him, your mouth hanging wide open though no sound other than the occasional, choked grunt left you as you surrendered yourself to him.

The Wolf’s great head dipped down, his nose nudging beneath your arm. Between his jolting ruts, his tongue, long and wide, flicked out and wrapped around your breast. As the wet appendage flexed around your sensitive mound, you sobbed, utterly undone by the intensity with which Sanemi claimed you, yet unable to do anything but desperately push your hips back to meet his frantic, sloppy thrusts. The tip of one, great fang brushed delicately against your nipple and your elbows buckled, the sensation nearly sending you face-first into the nest. Sanemi repeated the movement, and a shriek tore free from the depths of your chest. You sobbed as your fingers sunk into the furs for purchase and you began pushing yourself back desperately to meet him, allowing his cock to seek impossibly deeper into you.

Through the thick haze of pleasured delirium, you felt a familiar tug pulling at something deep within. Your mind was utterly disconnected from your body, so even as your throat continued to burn with your screams, the corners of your mouth tilted up. When the screams echoing through the clearing did not cease, the relentless plunge of the Wolf’s length into your heat faltered. There was another tug, more insistent and slightly desperate that spurred you to open up your mind as much as you’d opened your body for him. For Sanemi.

The moment the bond between the two of you opened wide, you felt him, that sweet, warm presence as golden as the sun. You felt his anxiety, prodding after your welfare, an undercurrent of fear that this was too much and that he was causing you harm.

Every inch of you burned, but not from pain; with a moan, you let him sink into the vast sea of euphoria in which he’d submerged you.

The moment the towering waves of your pleasure washed over him, Sanemi was a goner. With a piercing howl, the Wolf pushed deep into you and erupted, his massive length pulsing as the first of several long, hot ropes of his seed began to fill you. Just one spurt from his twitching length imparted the same amount of his release as he’d expend at the end of his climax while human. In wolf form, however, Sanemi only continued to fill you, and within seconds you could feel it leaking hot and fast over your joint connection and down the back of your thighs.

Your head dropped down, breath hard as Sanemi continued to spurt his release deep within you. Your eyes fluttered against the sensation of being filled, but a strange movement beneath the skin of your abdomen caught your eye. Had you not studied it, you almost would have thought it was nothing more than a trick of shadow from the candles surrounding the nest. Yet, the longer you stared, the more you recognized the shape of the oblong lump in your stomach; the more you could see the faint ridges and curve of the length the Wolf behind you had locked inside. And you could see how it pulsed as Sanemi continued to pump his seed deep into your womb, the rounded head of his cock twitching below your navel. The walls of your core began sporadically fluttering, just as they had that first night you’d spent with him in his den, when he’d mounted you and swore he’d put his child in your womb.

Sanemi snarled softly in your ear, though the tremble in his throat tapered off with a whine as your cunt only pulsed around him more. His great nose pressed against the side of your throat in warning. Through the bond, you felt his command — plea — to stop milking him as though your very existence depended upon it. But you couldn’t stop; you couldn’t control the way your body vibrated and hummed under the intoxicating strain of him buried so deeply inside of you that your body was no longer your own. The Wolf behind you trembled, adjusting his stance over your body as his release continued. The shift inadvertently jostled his throbbing length against your trembling walls, causing you to clench down harder than you thought possible.

With a growl, the sharp, deadly tips of Sanemi’s teeth pressed against your throat, right against your mark. If he’d been trying to assert dominance by baring his teeth against the vulnerable point on your neck, he’d sorely miscalculated its effect on you. For the threatening prick of his fangs against your skin only made your heat tighten around him, a moan falling from your lips as your head tilted to the side.

Sanemi whined at your display, his hips canting against your rear. The stimulation from his movements distracted you briefly before your eyes flew open at the sharp sting of your entrance being stretched to its limit by something hard and round. You could not hold back the strangled cry which tore from your throat as the Wolf’s heaving knot pushed into your core. The burn of his intrusion quickly abated with Sanemi’s maw against your neck, his tongue lapping soothingly at your mating mark. The stimulation of the brand seared into your skin was followed by a familiar, gooey warmth that replaced any lingering discomfort with mind-numbing pleasure. Before long, some of the stiffness in your limbs eased, and with a moan, you pushed your hips back harder against your mate, silently pleading for Sanemi to push deeper. The Wolf obliged, and with a puckered pop! his knot was locked wholly inside your cunt.

Though your arms vibrated under the strain of holding yourself up, you could not resist the urge to lift one shaking hand to press against your abdomen, to see just how far Sanemi was embedded within your body. Your hand slowly dragged up the oblong shape of his cock that pushed through the skin and muscle of your stomach, the added pressure causing Sanemi to shiver violently above you. His length seemed to continue without end but your palm finally cupped around the thick, bulbous head of his cock, still twitching as it continued to spurt his seed. It was notched just above your navel. You supposed it would be a miracle if your guts hadn’t been reduced to a runny pulp by the end of the night.

Exhaustion slammed into you as you held yourself there, bearing a considerable proportion of Sanemi’s weight against your back in addition to the mind-numbing stretch of his cock fully sheathed inside your body. Dimly, you noted the hot slide of his release as it trickled steadily down the backs and insides of your thighs before saturating the furs spread out below. Had your brain not been utterly liquified, you would have laughed; of course, not even Sanemi’s knot was capable of holding in the copious amounts of his seed that had filled your womb until it bloated. Perhaps, had you been a wolf, it would have held, but you were only a human; even your body, it appeared, had its limits.

Gradually, you could feel Sanemi’s knot begin to shrink, though its diminishing size only led to more of his seed continue to froth over where you remained connected. Your arms shook hard as you struggled to hold yourself up, eyes straining to remain open as you felt the Wolf’s member soften inside you. With a grunt, he withdrew himself from your heat, your body convulsing slightly at the loss of his warmth as he pulled out and away. You managed to hold yourself up for another moment before your trembling arms finally gave in, buckling beneath you. You began to fall forward into the furs, unable to catch yourself and too exhausted to care, when a pair of familiar hands caught you.

“I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you,” Sanemi murmured, arms enclosing you in a protective and tender embrace as he pulled you against him.

You lost the battle to hold your eyes open any longer, but you did not yet give into sleep. Your hand reached blindly for your mate, seeking the reassurance of his skin. Sanemi caught your hand easily and brought it to his lips. “You did so well, Lamb, so fucking well,” he cooed, raining kisses across your fingertips. His other hand rubbed soothingly over the skin of your waist as he continued to mutter words of reverence and praise, his lips kissing every inch of you that he could reach. “Talk to me, my darling girl; are you alright?” His hands seemed to smooth over your body as though searching for anything that might have been amiss. “Have you any pain?”

You shook your head, your neck stiff from exhaustion. “Don’t think so,” you managed, still unable to open your eyes. You felt his hand drift between your thighs, his fingers brushing gingerly against your swollen folds. You whimpered and shook your head harder, trying to clench your legs shut in an effort to still his hand, your flesh hyper-sensitive to the point of pain.

“N-no more, Sanemi, no more —“ you cried, hands weakly pushing at his chest.

Sanemi hushed your protests with gentle kisses. “Shhh, Lamb, I promise I will not touch you here anymore tonight,” he promised, and you relaxed slightly. “But I need to ensure you’re not bleeding.”

You nodded jerkily once, teeth clenched tightly together as the Huntsman brushed his fingers against your slit once more before pulling away.

“Not a drop,” he remarked in breathless awe. He wrapped you tight in his embrace, and you gladly melted against his skin. “You are a wonder.”

“I did well?” You asked shyly, turning to to bury your face against his chest.

You felt him tug a spare fur over your bare form before he lifted you into his arms. “Yes, Y/N. You are incredible; you’re absolutely fucking incredible.”

Vaguely, you felt the air around you grow cooler as Sanemi walked the pair of you away from the candlelit clearing and into the dark of the Wood.

“M-moving already?” Your voice was faint and slightly hoarse.

The Huntsman held you tighter against him. “Aye, Lamb, it is better if we return home as quickly as we can; that way I can get you safe and warm in our bed.”

You continued to babble nonsensically for the remainder of the trek, and before long, Sanemi was nudging open the door to your cabin den, allowing the warmth from the hearth of the fire to wash over you and chase away any residual chill from frigid winter air outside. The Wolf wasted no time in laying you gently upon the bed, moving quick to cover you with its cozy, thick quilts. You whined as he pulled away briefly to join you beneath the blankets, unable to stand the separation from the comfort of his body for even a moment.

“Hush, sweetling; I’m right here,” he soothed, bringing you back against his torso.

You burrowed your face against the skin of his chest, relying on his steadying warmth to soothe the burgeoning ache in your limbs and between your legs. Sanemi’s arms held you securely against him, his hands large and comforting against the bare expanse of your back.

“Rest now, Lamb, you’ve more than earned it.”

You mewled against him, arm flopping across his chest so you could tuck yourself in tighter against him. Sleep crept in quickly, washing away the comforting sights of your shared den; your home.

Just before you felt yourself be pulled under its restful waves, a finger brushed against your cheek. “I do not know what I did to deserve having you in my life,” you faintly heard your Huntsman whisper. “But you are my greatest treasure.” Lips softly brushed against the top of your head. “Thank you, Y/N, for being my mate.”

—————

Makomo regretted venturing into the Netherwood with every fiber of her being.

But Gyutaro and his beast of a sister, Daki, had made her so angry with their taunting, with their cruel and relentless torment of her young neighbor, that she hadn’t been able to resist their bait, as obvious as it was: to venture into the foreboding, cursed Wood and remain there until sundown. That was the price to end their cruelty towards the young Agatsuma boy.

What a stupid dare; what a stupid, stupid dare. And she’d been just as stupid to accept it. Makomo knew her mother would have her head when she eventually made it back home, especially once she learned why her daughter had chosen to stride purposefully into the forbidden Wood, chin high and eyes determined to shut up the village’s most odious sibling duo for good. She was, after all, of marrying age, and her mother had lectured her time and again over her behavior. When she wasn’t daydreaming, she was busy sparring with Sabito and Giyuu, always quick to grab a wooden stick and join in on their training sessions, happy to lose herself in graceful footwork and the fluidity of her movements as she parried their attacks – all, of course, to her mother’s great exasperation. She often wondered if her mother had fallen into the same trap so many others did – mistaking her outward gentleness and patience for complacency, failing to recognize the restless spirit and fierce determination that ran hot in her daughter’s blood.

A fat lot of good that restlessness had done her, because now, Makomo was lost – utterly and hopelessly lost. Something childish in her wanted to cry as her frustration mounted. It was bad enough that she had no idea which direction would lead her home, but the persistent darkness which plagued the Netherwood was salt in her wounded ego. The lack of sunlight meant it was all the more difficult to track exactly how long she’d been wandering the trees.

Makomo’s inner anguish was brought to a grinding halt as a twig snapped behind her. Her hand flew to the small knife she kept tucked into the belt around her waist, drawing the blade out and holding it defensively in front of her. “Who goes there?” She fought to keep her voice steady.

A man stepped out from behind a tree, his hands raised in surrender. “Please forgive me!” He kept a respectful distance from her, though Makomo did not let her guard fall. “I mean no harm!”

She didn’t lower her blade. “Who are you?” Makomo demanded, eyes narrowed, scanning him for some indication that he was anything but human. Apart from the unusual color of his eyes – a strange rainbow of colors – he seemed no more than an ordinary man.

He sidestepped her question with one of his own. “Are you lost? The Wood is dangerous for humans, you know. “

Though the concern coloring his words seemed genuine, Makomo took another step back. “Then what are you doing here? Are you not human as well?”

The strange man chuckled, shaking his head. “I cannot imagine what else I would be. But I know my way around here – you seem distressed.” He furrowed his eyebrow. “And it is getting dark. Are you sure you aren’t lost?”

She grimaced. “Perhaps I am.”

“How fortuitous our meeting is, then!” The strange man clapped his hands. “You are lost, but as it so happens, I am a guide. I have a reputation of sorts for guiding lost travelers like you to the other side of the forest.”

Recognition dawned in her eyes and relief flooded over her. “The Huntsman? You’re the Huntsman of the Netherwood?”

“The one and the same,” the man’s rainbow eyes flashed as he sketched a bow. “I am called Douma.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Makomo smiled, her shoulders relaxing. “I’ve heard you even help those stuck in some remote village on the other side, and protect all those in your charge from that which would prey upon humans.” The girl repocketed her small knife, feeling at ease. “You truly know the Netherwood that well?”

Douma flashed a dazzling smile that nearly made her blush. “I wouldn’t consider myself an expert; I seek only to help those most in need. Any expertise I have is thanks to them, not because of any special skill of mine.”

As handsome as the Huntsman was, his modesty felt like a front, but Makomo was too grateful for having stumbled into another in this godforsaken forest that she looked past it – especially when he knew how to navigate the dangerous, cursed Wood she’d so foolishly believed she could brave. “I am not trying to get to the other side; I am only trying to return to my village – Urokodaki.”

The Huntsman – Douma – nodded sagely. “I know exactly the place. I am on my way there myself – I shall escort you!”

Makomo’s cheeks heated. “Oh no, please – don’t feel obligated to take me all the way there. I should be fine if you only show me which direction –”

“Nonsense,” Douma interjected, his expression the portrait of concern. “I can’t imagine leaving you alone in any part of the Wood – especially since the route back to Urokodaki requires trekking through rather treacherous territory.” He shuddered, eyes closing against some phantom chill. “Territory that belongs to wolves – giant, man-eating wolves.”

Ever since she was a young girl, Makomo had prided herself on her courage, but even she could not suppress the icy unease that ran over her at the thought of stumbling onto land belonging to such vicious, terrifying creatures. “Very well,” the girl tried not to let her fear shine through as she smiled wanly at the Huntsman, lest he think her some sort of coward. “I would be very grateful for the escort – and your company.”

Douma answered with a feline grin. “Wonderful!” He held his arm out to her, every bit the perfect gentleman. “Let’s be on our way.”

Makomo accepted his offer, though she repressed her slight wince at the coldness of his touch. She shook it off; it was winter, after all, and who knew how long the Huntsman had been out, searching for others just like her.

“What an adorable little fox mask you have!” Her escort complimented, eyeing the mask the girl kept strapped to her hip. Makomo relaxed even further, launching into the mask’s backstory as the shadows of the Wood swallowed the pair whole.

----

You spent the next two days confined to your bed.

Thankfully, your mate was more than content to remain naked in bed with you, his taut, muscled body your mattress as you drifted in and out of sleep. Sanemi was more than just attentive; he outright doted upon you as you recovered your strength, more than content to remain tucked in bed with you, apparently just as clingy to you as you’d been with him.

Sometime the day after, a knock had sounded at the door to the den, but Sanemi only replied with a warning snarl, his arms tightening protectively around your nude form. Whomever it had been – likely Genya or Shinobu – left without a word, and Sanemi immediately relaxed, returning his attention to you. He nuzzled against your cheek, just barely exposed where you’d buried your face into the crook of his neck, and he peppered your hairline with kisses, his hands stroking up and down your spine all while he cooed softly in your ear. Though half-asleep, you pressed yourself harder against his torso, fingers running over the ropey, corded muscle of his sides and shoulders, as you drew upon his warmth to ground you. You hadn’t imagined you would cling to him any harder than you had since first taking his knot, but it appeared being claimed by Sanemi’s wolf form had reduced you to a hopeless, needy mess.

Fortunately, you’d managed to rise halfway through the third day. You were unquestionably sore, but you’d almost fully regained the ability to move as you normally did, and so, you roused yourself from bed and dressed, eager to spend the afternoon outside after more than two days sequestered in the den.

Sanemi had left shortly before you’d awoken, though he hadn’t gone far. He’d spent the morning at Shinobu’s, both having scented an impending shift in the weather. Sanemi reckoned ice was imminent, which had the effect of complicating the pack’s ability to scent out threats, and so he’d met with the Shifter to work out new patrol routes to get you all through the winter. You’d wanted to spend the last few hours of day pruning holly bushes now that their leaves and berries were at their peak, but you found yourself stuck inside, fighting the urge to tear apart the den piece by piece as you searched for your missing gardening blade. But if you thumped your head against the baseboard of your shared bed one more time, you thought you might scream.

Your teeth ground together as you strained your arm out in front of you again, hand patting blindly across the floorboards beneath your bed for the telltale kiss of metal belongings to your small gardening shears. Behind you, the front door to the den pushed open and a rush of cold winter air spilled into the main room of the cabin. You did not acknowledge your mate as he quickly pushed the door shut behind him and made his way toward the fire roaring in the hearth, eager to get warm. The Huntsman’s footsteps halted several feet behind you, and the air was silent as Sanemi considered the sight before him: his mate, on all fours on the floor, half-buried beneath the bed and swearing colorfully under her breath.

“Are we stuck?” Even with your back turned toward him, you could sense him shaking with silent laughter.

“No,” you grumbled, letting out a frustrated grunt as you failed once again to feel out your scissors. “I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

“Are you now?” His tone was light and teasing as he moved to the side of the room, near the small table and age-cracked washstand, giving himself a perfect view of your ass where it was held high in the air.

“Yes,” you insisted, and with a groan, you withdrew your arm from below the bed. You sat up on your knees and turned your head towards your mate, nose high in the air and indignant. “I rather enjoy searching under beds, you see.”

“I do,” he chuckled softly. “And I won’t lie, I quite enjoy the view.”

You shot him a glare as you rose to your feet, brushing your hands off on your skirt. “Perhaps if you weren’t so preoccupied undressing me with your eyes, you could have helped me, you dog –”

“Searching for these?” Sanemi pulled a hand out from behind his back and held it out. There, dangling from his fingers, were your gardening shears, the flickering light of the fire glinting from its blades.

You smiled, shoulders instantly relaxing and your mood improving. “Thank you — what are you —?” You reached to take the small tool from your mate’s hand, but he raised his arm high above your head. “Wolf.”

“I believe I deserve some payment for my efforts,” Sanemi simpered. “It took a great deal of energy to lift them off the washstand.”

You frowned, ignoring his slight barb – you’d checked the washstand, you were sure of it. Instead, you stretched up on your toes, reaching your arm to try and snatch them from his fingers, but Sanemi only held his hand higher, that teasing smirk growing wider and wider the more you struggled.

“It’s not safe to hold a blade over someone’s head,” you groused. You wobbled precariously on your toes in an effort to recover your blade, and you were forced to lean into Sanemi for support. An arm wrapped easily around your middle, locking you tight against him. “As if I’d let anything happen to you, Lamb,” his hand drifted teasingly toward your rear before he gripped the supple curve of your backside.

With a frustrating grace, Sanemi flipped the shears in his hand and tossed them, a distant clatter of metal hitting wood signaling they’d landed somewhere behind him. Before you could protest, the hand he’d used to hold your scissors closed around your wrist, still outstretched in the air, and brought it down, pressing your palm flat against shoulder.

“Much better.” He began to rock with you from side to side, pulling you into a slow dance set to the music of your own thundering heart at the intensity which slipped into Sanemi’s eyes as he watched you.

A blush spread across your cheeks. “If you wanted me in your arms so badly, you need only have asked,” you muttered, shyly averting your gaze by resting your cheek against his chest. “I wouldn’t have protested.”

A finger curled under your chin and guided your face to tilt back. Sanemi’s lips hovered near your own, pulled into an affectionate smile that made your stomach flip. “But where’s the fun in that, Lamb?” His thumb stroked your bottom lip. “I can’t help that I enjoy playing with my food.”

“So I am a meal now, rather than a mate?” You teased. “How romantic.”

The Huntsman cut off your snark with a quick yet bruising kiss. “You assume they aren’t one and the same, sweetling.”

You waited for him to kiss you again, to reignite the storm of passion and desire between you two that never seemed to ebb but he did not. Instead, the blush on your cheeks deepened as that blazing intensity returned to his gaze once more, Sanemi’s face uncharacteristically serious as his eyes searched yours. His hand cupped the back of your skull, bringing your head back to rest against his chest. “You are not just a mate to me, you know,” he said quietly, his cheek pressed against the top of your head as you swayed. “I think of you as more than that — far more.”

You rolled your head to peer up at him. “How can someone be more than a mate?” You frowned. “Is that not the strongest bond there is?”

“Yes and no,” Sanemi brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear before his hand settled on the side of your face. “The bond is strong, that’s for certain — it’s why I can feel what you feel, why we can communicate without speaking; our souls are connected.”

You turned and nuzzled into his palm, but Sanemi’s thumb dropped to run over your lower lip. “But the bond is only the base; its strength can waiver, depending on the connection between the mates’ hearts.” The Huntsman’s other hand found yours and brought it up to rest against his chest, right against the skin exposed by the collar of his tunic. His own hand covered yours keeping it locked over his heart. “And what I feel for you here is stronger than any mating mark I could have given you.”

You felt the blush creeping into your cheeks, your fingers smoothing over one of the silvery scars that laced across his chest. “You already know what I feel for you,” you said shyly after a moment. Your free hand wrapped around the wrist of the hand Sanemi used to cradle your face. Slowly, you lowered it to rest against your bosom, parroting his hold against your hand on him. “Even if you’d never given me the mark, this belongs to you,” you murmured, and he returned your blush, a precious pink stain spreading over his cheeks. “It will only ever belong to you.”

The hand Sanemi had around yours against his chest tightened as he tugged you closer against him. “I may now be a wolf, but I was born human,” his voice was gravelly, but his eyes were bright. “I remember the significance of human traditions.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning at the implication of his words.

“I’ve already taken you as my mate,” Sanemi’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “But I long to take you as my wife, if you’ll have me.”

Your heart skipped in your chest. Marriage. He was offering marriage. You’d had him in the most intimate of ways — had allowed him to sear a claim into you for all the world to see, had spread your legs and invited him to take whatever he wanted, to make you his. You’d begged him to breed you, for Gods’ sake, barely a few days prior.

Yet, he was still asking; giving you the choice to accept him, even if you’d already accepted him in every other way. It was more than Douma had ever done; then again, everything Sanemi was so much more than anything the monstrous worship leader could ever hope to be.

“Yes, Huntsman.” You said breathlessly, and the soft warmth that flooded Sanemi’s eyes made your legs turn to jelly. “I will have you as my husband.”

The Huntsman’s hands cradled your face as his head bent towards you. Softly, his lips met yours in a sweet, chaste kiss. “I will marry you according to the Old Ways,” he whispered between needy, passionate kisses. “At sunset, on the first night of the next full moon; beneath an old willow tree.” His joy mirrored your own as your hands cupped his cheeks. “Our hands wrapped. My cloak around your shoulders.”

Your heart squeezed tight. You could see it — the very marriage ceremony he described, for it had been the very one done in your village for centuries. An old tradition that could not be replaced, no matter how many grumbling worship leaders tried to insist otherwise. Words were not enough to convey the depth of your gratitude — of your devotion — for the Huntsman who’d claimed you as his own. Your hand wrapped around the base of his neck and tugged him down, your lips moving against his with a sweet yet consuming passion. There, ensconced in the warm and protective cage of Sanemi’s embrace, you felt a security you’d not felt in a long time. Before you’d left the cave den where he’d claimed you, you thought Sanemi felt like home; now you knew for certain that he was.

Sanemi’s kisses turned heated, his lips breaking from yours to trail down your neck and across your throat, his hands roaming the curves of your body. “I should like to celebrate our betrothal,” he whispered, breath hot against your skin.

You shivered as his lips moved to the mating mark he’d seared into your skin. “What manner of celebration did you have in mind, my intended?”

“I believe humans tend to turn a blind eye when a newly betrothed couple decides to consummate their impending Union,” Sanemi’s grin was wicked. “And lucky for you, there are no eyes to judge.”

You scoffed, even as you pressed yourself tighter against Sanemi’s solid form. “I believe we are well-past the consummation stage, Wolf.” Your fingers danced up his neck to twine in his hair. “In fact, I may already be carrying the proof of that.”

Sanemi scowled slightly, the hand on your waist tightening. “Unfortunately, I’ve yet to succeed in that endeavor,” and to your surprise, he looked genuinely disappointed. At your questioning look, he clarified. “I would be able to smell if you were carrying any pups.” His gaze darkened and his mouth pressed hotly against your ear, teeth grazing your lobe. “But perhaps I shall try again,” he said lowly before his lips began a descent down your jaw. “And we have only consummated as mates,” the Wolf nipped at the sensitive spot beneath the corner of your jaw. “Now I want to fuck my betrothed.”

Before you could respond, Sanemi wrapped his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up, his mouth moving hungrily against yours as he walked you towards your shared bed, swallowing your soft giggle as he spread you out below him.

————————————

Once, when you and Kotoha were sixteen, she told you she believed there was a difference between the marital act and love.

You’d scoffed at her, for what she described was in theory, the same thing; it involved another doing things to you for pleasure — whether mutual or not. Kotoha had teased you for having such strong opinions with such little (nonexistent) experience.

But that night you learned that your late friend had been right; by the way Sanemi had you perched upon his lap, his hands resting steadily on your hips as he gently guided you up and down his thick length, you knew Sanemi was doing more than fucking you, or giving you his knot.

He was making love to you.

That was the only explanation for the way he sat, back resting against the headboard, face close enough to yours that your noses bumped every time you sunk back down into his lap. You could feel it in the way Sanemi’s lips seemed to chase yours, never letting you stray too far out of his reach, even when you broke away from his kiss to gasp, unable to hold in your breathy cries as he pushed against that spot that made you see stars. But he would always bring you right back to him, hand on the back of your head, tilting your face so he could swallow your moans with his feverish kisses. Between every break of his lips, he whispered his reverence of you; but that night, you were not his Lamb or sweetling; only your name fell from his lips, the single word of a song he sung only for you.

When you finally reached that sacred precipice, Sanemi’s thumb working between your thighs as he pushed faster and deeper up into you, he only held you tighter against him and told you to let go.

So you did.

Your lips against his, you tumbled headfirst over the edge and let yourself free fall through your pleasure with a pitched cry. Your hips slammed down on his length the moment Sanemi gave one final, great thrust up before he stilled, joining you in your descent as he filled you with nothing but him and his boundless love.

Once your highs finally subsided, Sanemi remained slumped against the headboard of the bed with you tightly wrapped around him, your face buried in the side of his neck. He had tried to pull out and away after a few moments, but you’d locked your arms and legs even tighter around him. You whimpered at the thought of the biting cold and emptiness you would feel if he took his warmth away, and you could not bear the thought of parting from him for even a moment.

With his hands tracing warmly up and down the length of your bare back, Sanemi maneuvered himself to lay down flat against the bed, keeping you atop him, his cock still nestled between your thighs. Your Huntsman cooed soft praises and adoration as his lips danced along your hairline, his fingers carving patterns over your spine. The familiar pull of sleep began to tug at your consciousness; and so, there, laying upon Sanemi’s chest and his length still safely sheathed within your warmth, you let yourself be pulled into sleep’s gentle embrace.

———

When you awoke the next morning, you thought you’d simply entered another dream. At first, there was nothing but warmth; golden, comforting warmth that enveloped you like the first rays of the sun in the spring, following months of bitter gray cold. Then there was an unbounded sense of security as you slowly registered that you were wrapped in a pair of strong arms that kept you tucked against something firm and solid. But then, a pair of fingers brushed lightly through your hair, gently pulling you from the throes of sleep and you realized you were not, in fact, dreaming; for this was so much better than any dream your brain could ever conjure on its own. This – this waking dream where you were cradled safely against the sturdy and warm chest of the man you loved – no longer merely your mate but your fiancé – this was reality and better yet, it was yours. It was heaven.

Heaven, you thought again as a pair of lips found your forehead, and then the tip of your nose, before finally dipping to grace you with a kiss. Utter, blissful heaven.

The arms wrapped so protectively around you tightened, pulling you slightly up the torso of the Wolf beneath you so that he could deepen your kiss, his tongue gliding along the seam of your mouth. With a contented sigh, your lips parted, and Sanemi’s tongue swept in to dance languidly with yours. Soon – too soon, he broke away with a pant, though his hand rose to cup your cheek and keep your face close to his. His lips slid to your jaw as one hand kept your hand tilted back, your throat bared to him. “I love you,” he murmured between heavy, open-mouthed kisses he began trailing down your neck. “I love you. I love you.” You squirmed atop him, ticklish under the attack of his lips against the sensitive skin of your throat. “Gods, woman,” he moaned against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. “What have you done to me?”

Before you could question what he meant, Sanemi bucked his hips up and pressed the engorged tip of his stiffened length flush against your backside. Heat pooled instantly in your belly, your desire for him flaring to life. “Just slide it in,” you whispered, your own lips trailing lazily down his neck. “Take what’s yours, Wolf. I’m ready.” You shoved your hips back for emphasis and you did not try to stop your wanton moan when the head of his cock brushed against your already slick entrance.

The hands on your hips tightened as the Huntsman below desperately fumbled for his restraint. “Lamb,” he groaned. “I have patrol duty this morning.” He nearly whimpered as you swiveled your hips yet again, impatient and demanding. He said your name once, in warning.

“And what of your duty to take care of your mate – your fiancé?” You hummed, raking your nails lightly down the scarred mass of his pectorals. You smirked as Sanemi instinctively bucked up, seeking you out. “Especially when she is so warm and wet and ready – “

A hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you with a muffled mmph! Innocently, far too innocently, you turned your eyes up to meet those of your mate’s as they glowered down at you. “You’re a menace,” Sanemi growled. “A devious, tempting little thing who’s going to get me in trouble with my pack.” With a groan, your mate rolled you gently off him, taking the time to ensure you were properly tucked under the blankets before he rose from the bed. You burrowed quickly into the spot where he’d lain, greedily clinging to the warmth he’d left behind.

Sanemi crossed toward the small armoire and tugged it open, pulling free a fresh pair of trousers and tunic. He dressed quickly, and before long, he was strapping his satchel around his broad shoulders, his own traveling cloak already fastened securely at the hollow of his throat. “Will you be alright, Lamb?” Sanemi turned toward you, a soft smile forming in his lips at the sight of you buried beneath the quilts.

You hummed sleepily. “I think I might venture out and gather more tea leaves — I saw a peppermint bush near Shinobu’s den.” You perked up at the memory of what grew on the edge of the Wolves’ territory — those precious flowers that reminded you of home and of Grandmother. “The snowdrops!” You looked at Sanemi, eyes brimming with excitement. “I almost forgot — and their season is nearly over!”

The Huntsman tensed. “I do not think it’s wise for you to venture so close to the edge of our land, Lamb,” he said carefully. “It’s on the opposite side of where we’ll be patrolling.” At your quizzical look, he continued. “That border isn’t as secure as it should be; I do not want you trekking out there alone.”

Your excitement dimmed. “Even with my cloak?”

“Aye,” Sanemi looked apologetic as he settled on the edge of the bed. “I know what creatures lurk in this portion of the Wood. It’s too risky, and you are far too tempting, Lamb.”

Your head dropped back against the pillow, deflated. Sanemi’s frown deepened as he stretched a hand to caress your cheek. “I’ll take you another time; I promise.” The Huntsman turned his head toward the cabin door and waited, listening. Whatever he heard with his enhanced abilities made him look back to you with a mischievous smile. “I still have a few moments before I must leave,” his fingers slid below the quilts and grazed your outer thigh. Gooseflesh erupted over your skin beneath this touch and your cheeks warmed. “I should like the taste of something sweet before I depart –”

“No,” you said primly, flinging the covers off your nude form. “I also have very important things to get to that cannot be delayed.”

Sanemi groaned, but you kept your back to him as you dressed. Once you finished lacing the stays on your outer corset, you padded over to the washstand and splashed your face with some of the water left in the basin. Refreshed, your fingers pulled your hair over your shoulder and you began combing through your slightly tangled locks, still mussed from the previous night’s activities.

The Huntsman was silent as he slid from the bed and quietly made his way over to the stand, his hands bracing your waist from behind. “Allow me,” his voice was husky and his breath warm as it brushed as it tickled your ear where he’d leaned in close. He spun you to face him and took your hands in his before leading you back to the edge of the bed.

He sat and spread his legs wide before tugging you between them. “Here,” he murmured, patting his thigh. “Sit.”

You did without question, your heart fluttering in your throat. Sanemi’s eyes remained locked with yours as he lightly turned your head to face away from him and slid your hair back over your shoulder. Gentle fingers carded through your hair, gathering different parts into sections. With a surprising nimbleness, Sanemi began weaving your tresses into an intricate yet secure braid. Within minutes, he secured the end of with a small leather cord, before dropping it over your shoulder.

“How did you --?” You asked in wonder, fingers jumping to caress the plait in awe.

Sanemi shrugged. “I had younger sisters, once.” He shyly dropped your gaze, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. “And I wanted to help my Ma out by learning.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest. “You never cease to surprise me, Wolf,” you murmured in awe. Your thumb stroked his cheek as you leaned in and brushed your lips softly against his. “Thank you.”

Sanemi moaned into your kiss. With a sly smirk, you pressed harder into him, tilting your head as though you were about to deepen it. You swiped your tongue along the seam of his mouth and instantly, the Huntsman’s lips parted, but you broke away.

“You have patrol duty.”

The Wolf groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me, Lamb.”

You pulled off his lap with a giggle, Sanemi grumbling under his breath at the unfairness of your teasing. You hummed as you crossed the floor of the cabin to the entryway, grabbing your basket from where you’d left by the door and tucking it into the crook of your arm. Your hands found your cloak and you pulled the thick, red wool over your shoulders, fingers working quickly to fasten the front clasp until it rested flat against the center of your collar bones. Once secured, you slid your arms through the small openings hidden among the cloak’s crimson folds, one at a time, allowing the fabric to settle fully against your frame. You turned back to your mate, eyes expectant. “Shall we?”

With a sigh, Sanemi rose and joined you across the room, grabbing his satchel from where he’d hung it on a nail in the wall and looping it around his shoulders. You braced yourself against the impending onslaught of cold air that lay beyond the comforting warmth of your cabin as your hand moved to wrench the door open.

“Hold it,” The Huntsman’s hand closed around your wrist, halting you from stepping through the mouth of the cabin den and into the world beyond. Sanemi spun you towards him and pulled you flush against his form. Your eyes widened in surprise and anticipation, and your cheeks warmed as his hands lifted up, brushing lightly against your neck.

“Can’t forget this,” the Huntsman whispered, his voice like honey, as he brought the hood of your cloak up over your head. He hummed softly, pleased. “There,” one crooked finger brushed under your chin and Sanemi leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Perfection.”

The sultry heat of his gaze flustered you and reflexively, your hand closed around the knob of the door and turned, accidentally pushing it open. You stumbled as the support of the heavy wood disappeared from behind you; you would’ve fallen flat on your backside in the snow, had the Huntsman not locked an arm around your waist hauling you back against him with a wide, smug grin. As you sputtered, the impatient howl of either Shinobu or Genya rose above the blustering icy wind in the distance, beseeching Sanemi to hurry up and join them. But the Huntsman was utterly uninterested in removing his arm from their place around your waist, his hands stroking up the column of your spine beneath your cloak. “Try not to miss me terribly while I’m gone,” he said cheekily.

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can make do; whether you can is another question.”

“Not in the slightest,” his answering grin was unabashed. “I miss you even when you are asleep beside me.” He cut off your answering giggle with an eager kiss, one arm leaving its place on your hips in favor of winding around your shoulders, keeping you anchored to him. Sanemi never kissed you once; either his kisses were long and slow, seamlessly melting into something more frantic and heated, or they were rapid, lingering pecks against your lips, just as he was giving you right then. “When I return,” he said between two quick brushes of his lips against yours. “I expect to find you in bed,” another kiss. “And ready for me.”

Your giggle was swallowed by another sweet press of his lips against your smile. “Shall I await you already nude? Or should you like the honors, Wolf?”

His grip around you tightened slightly. “It matters not; the night will end the same, my beautiful betrothed.”

Your stomach fluttered at the reminder that the two of you were now promised to one another. “And how does the night end, Huntsman?”

Sanemi ducked to brush his lips against your pulse point. “With you nice and warm and full, Lamb, just as I know you love to be,” the promise in his tone made you clench your thighs together. “And, the gods’ willing, with my babe growing in your belly.”

It was an effort not to grind down against the thigh he’d slipped between your legs. You chanted, over and over to yourself, that Genya and Shinobu were within hearing distance, and if they could hear, they certainly could smell the way your body was desperate to react to your mate’s promise. But that sobering reminder didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy teasing him a little more. “Then you’d better hurry back,” you pressed your lips against his ear, exhaling hotly.”"Or else I may have to begin without you.”

Sanemi loosed a warning growl. “If you deprive me of any of those sweet noises you’re prone to making while I’m inside you, the only thing you’ll be taking tonight are your own fingers.”

“Then you’d better not dwadle, dear Huntsman,” you cooed, catching his ear lobe between your teeth before pulling away. “After all, I’m prone to making trouble.”

“That you are,” he retorted. And, without regard to the fact that his brother and friend likely could hear every single word of your exchange, Sanemi’s hands bunched your skirt up your legs. You yelped as you felt him reach between your thighs, and with a devilish smirk, his fingers dipped between your folds and circled your sensitive bead.

He leaned in until his lips nearly touched yours, but stilled before they could. “But so am I, love.” His fingers slid down and plunged quickly into your cunt. Your hands flew to his shoulders, your nails digging hard into the skin and muscle beneath the layers of his tunic and cloak as you clung to him. Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers as he pumped his hand once, twice, before abruptly drawing away, ignoring your indignant screech.

“Y-you --!” you glowered at your mate, wanting nothing more than to wipe that insufferable, lopsided, smug grin clean from his face.

“Behave, little Lamb,” he tutted. “I shall see you soon.” With a wink, he lifted the fingers he’d had inside you only seconds before to his mouth and sucked them clean. He then turned on his heel, and sauntered away toward the trees, leaving you blushing and sputtering in his wake.

---

More than an hour had passed since you and Sanemi had parted ways, and to your great annoyance, your cheeks still burned hot.

You wandered the grounds of the Wolves’ territory with mild interest, having already spent much of your time combing the Wood for various species of plants and flora since your arrival. Admittedly, you’d stopped paying close attention a while ago as you ambled along, concerned only with your desire to make time go as quickly as possible so you could return home to your Wolf and pay back his torture tenfold. The miserable tease.

You paused your strolling to inspect the woodland scenery around you. Your gut lurched in panic when you didn’t immediately recognize your surroundings. Swallowing your rising panic, you whipped your head back and forth, desperately scanning the landscape for anything that was vaguely knowable, anything at all –

At the familiar sight of holly bushes smattered amongst towering pines, your heart leapt for joy. Though you’d had every intention of heeding Sanemi’s wishes — and warnings — about seeking out the snow drops you’d spied when first arriving to the Wolves’ territory, you’d somehow nevertheless found yourself near the Western border.

You paused where you stood, cocking your head and squinting at what lay beyond the spread of trees and winter foliage. If your memory was correct, the clusters of the precious wildflowers grew no more than fifty paces from where you currently stood. It wasn’t that you were letting your guard down — after all, you knew as well as anyone that the relative silence which settled over the Netherwood did not mean there was nothing sinister lurking beyond the pine trees which formed a barrier between you and the outermost boundary of your sanctuary. You knew that.

But.

Boundaries were boundaries, were they not? And the Wolves would not have the territory they claimed if those boundaries had been compromised. The risk was marginal, you rationed. After all, it wasn’t as though you were stepping outside of the Wolves’ claimed land; rather, you were only toeing the line of demarcation.

And you really wanted those flowers.

You tugged the hood of your cape over your head, allowing the blanket of its protection to bolster your confidence. Your step was even as you crunched softly over the frozen terrain of the forest floor, taking care to avoid the slick icy patches of mud. As you breached the line of pine trees, a low-hanging branch you hadn’t noticed ensnared itself in the fabric of your cloak, tangling you in a flurry of pine needles that rained down as you shoved the branch away. Another thirty paces later and you spotted the familiar, drooping bell-curves of your favorite flower, clustered in small patches that dotted the winter-hardened earth.

“Yes!” You clapped your hands in glee. Though your cheeks stung under the icy bite of the forest air, a warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of the snow drops. They were in full bloom, their petals emitting a soft, ivory glow that posed a lovely contrast with the emerald of their stems.

But even as you knelt among those cherished flowers, you could not deny the heaviness that settled into your chest as your fingers grazed the delicate bulbs. For as much comfort as the sight of the snow drops brought you, they also brought the bruise of your Grandmother’s loss back to surface. How she would have loved to see them here, growing without restraint or mind as to the harsh conditions of winter. She’d always reminded you that their resilience came from their fragility; their perseverance in spite of conditions that withered even the largest and most colorful of florae. You pulled your gardening shears from the bottom of your basket. With a wistful smile and a heavy heart, you began cutting the stems of your cherished snow drops, filling the bottom of your basket with the delicate mementos of the life you’d once had.

A crack of a tree branch startled you, the garden shears dropping to the earth with a dull thud. Your head snapped up in alarm, eyes alert and apprehensive as you scanned the trees, praying that the sound was only the result of some small animal or bird. But your assessment of your surroundings was complicated by the sudden arrival of a strange, icy mist that curled around the gaps between the trees, creeping closer and closer to where you’d crouched to pick the snow drops.

The fog brought forth a precipitous drop in temperature, eliciting a violent shiver from you. Your eyes strained to see through the mist that descended around you, thick enough that the even the enormous, gnarled trunks of the Wood’s ancient trees were soon concealed from sight. And it was quiet; not quiet in the way you’d come to understand the Netherwood to be, but quiet in a way that suggested all sound had been sucked from the forest. A void.

Tendrils of the fog stretched toward you, icy fingers clawing your cheeks with their sharp, frigid sting until your skin felt raw. The shift in the air also brought forth a change in scent, chasing away the familiar dirt and rot of the Wood with a cloying, sickly sweet odor that strangled you with the pungent yet distinct scent of flowers.

With trembling limbs you forced yourself to rise to full height, just as the frosted mist parted to let a dark figure step forward through the trees. The first thing you saw were his eyes – two, floating, multicolored orbs that glowed brightly in the shadows, leering at you with a predatory hunger. Your shallow breath died in your throat as trepidation melted into pure terror. You knew those eyes; your very presence in the Netherwood was because you’d fled from their soulless cruelty. Some base instinct buried deep within you begged you to run; to scream. Yet, your feet remained rooted in place, as though you too, were nothing more than one of the ancient, towering trees of the Netherwood, unable to do anything but observe the violence that was about to unfold within its shadows. The eyes were followed by a flash of teeth – sharp and deadly – as the figure took the form of the one you feared most.

Fuck. Fuck.

Douma wiped a single tear that fell down his cheek. “I’m so relieved to have finally found you, darling! You have no idea how long I’ve searched for you.”

He took a single step forward that sent you scurrying three steps back, your feet sending your basket skittering to the side. “Get away from me,” you warned. “Go back to whatever hellhole you crawled out from.”

In a flash, he was on you, hand locked around your throat and eyes cold. “Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?” Fingers tipped with long nails — sharp, pointed, black nails — dug into the flesh of your forearm, easily piercing through the linen and suede sleeves of your blouse. His speed had knocked the breath out of you — he’d been fast, abnormally, monstrously fast. The horror sluiced through you as you realized no human could move that quickly; could wield the strength with which he now used to keep you rooted in place.

Douma wasn’t human.

As though he’d heard that very thought the moment it solidified in your brain, Douma smiled, revealing four, sharp fangs, longer and more wicked looking than even Sanemi’s in his half-shifted form. He took a step closer, his sickeningly sweet breath fanning over your face as your former fiancé practically thrummed with excitement. “The things I have planned for you,” he murmured, tracing the curve of your cheek teasingly with one clawed nail. There was a sharp prick followed by something warm.

He’d drawn blood. Douma leaned in close and let his tongue — slimy and cold, just like his skin, trail teasingly up the line he’d drawn, humming at the taste of your blood. “You’ll serve me well, Y/N,” he cooed, his hand squeezing your cheeks roughly. “Just like all my wives have served me well; just like Kotoha.”

You could not stop yourself from swallowing, hard, as you tried but failed to find courage as death — painful and cruel looked you straight in the eyes. Sanemi! You tossed out desperately down your bond, tugging on that internal string with all your might. Sanemi, it’s him!

You willed yourself not to cry; not to tremble, as the monster with the iridescent eyes looked at you like you were the main course of a feast made only for him. SANEMI.

Douma’s smile was predatory and it made your knees buckle and your resolve crumble. You were going to die. Slowly. Painfully.

The village Worship Leader trailed a hand down the side of your throat until it came to rest on that spot between your shoulder and neck. Right over the top of your mating mark. “We can’t have him interfering before our fun begins,” Douma shook his head, his eyes mocking. “After all, I need him good and wound up when he comes for you.”

Fear melted into something more primal in your gut — something hotter, more paralyzing, that would not let you look away from his monstrous gaze no matter how much your brain begged you. Douma hummed softly to himself as he sunk a nail into your skin, tearing easily through the layers of your cloak and tunic. You screamed as he dragged it down, directly across the mating mark Sanemi had given you all those weeks ago. The mark that was supposed to link you to him; to give you a direct line of communication to your mate when you needed him most. Beneath the hot burst of blood that trailed Douma’s nail as he ripped your skin open, something cold washed over you, like a flame being snuffed out by a burst of winter wind.

Douma’s hand wrapped around your throat, choking off your scream. “Sleep,” he commanded. Your stomach dropped with the realization that the Netherwood had begun to fall away as your vision tunneled. You desperately tried to tug on the bond once more, pleadingly, to alert your Huntsman that you were well and truly doomed. But there was nothing there; no invisible string you could pull, no connection with Sanemi that you could draw upon to let him know. As your consciousness faded, so too did shred any remaining hope you’d had that he would come for you.

For the mating bond had been cut.

The Wolf pack slowed to a stop at the edge of their land’s Eastern border. Shinobu’s small, violet-black form trotted away from her male companions, her small bag clutched tightly in her mouth, and disappeared behind a cluster of holly bushes to shift back to her human form. With the Shifter out of sight, the two Shinazugawa brothers also re-assumed their human-like appearances, Sanemi snatching up his satchel from where he’d dropped it on the ground and hastily tugging his clothing over his naked form, teeth chattering in the cold.

The white Wolf had just barely tugged his cloak back over his shoulders when his female friend emerged from behind the brambles, dressed warmly in thick layers of wool and deerskin, her hands working quickly to secure her hair in a knot at the back of her hair. Genya, too, had redressed, though he still shivered violently where he stood. He shifted from foot to foot, clasping his hands before his mouth and huffing out hot puffs of air in an effort to warm them.

“All seemed calm on the way here,” Shinobu remarked, though her mouth was set in a grim line and her brow was pinched. “It makes what we discovered on the Western front even more unsettling –”

“Or,” Sanemi countered. “It only supports that it was an anomaly; mere coincidence.”

The Shifter’s luminous, lilac eyes narrowed at her companion. “You will not convince me that was…normal, even for a place like the Netherwood.”

The Huntsman dragged a tired hand over his face. “I’m not trying to dismiss you, Shinobu. What we found was,” his mouth twisted into a grimace. “Disturbing. I don’t deny it.” He paced a little ways ahead, drawing near a cluster of rose bushes demarcating their territorial line, the blooms of which had long since withered and died. “But we’ve found no other sign of anything amiss.”

Genya looked helplessly back and forth between his brother and the Shifter who he considered another sister. Though sixteen and perfectly entitled to voice his opinions to his packmates, Sanemi knew he still struggled to assert himself – especially when conflict arose.

The raven-haired doctor held the elder Shinazugawa’s stare for a moment longer, her head cocked and her lips pursed. After a heavy pause, Shinobu sighed in resignation, clicking her tongue. “Fine. But that doesn’t mean we should let our guard down.”

“And we won’t,” the white Wolf said smoothly. “We never do.”

The pack fell into their standard patrol formation of an elongated triangle, with Sanemi and Genya at the back and Shinobu heading the front. A silence which settled over the three pack mates carried some of the tension from the earlier exchange between the two eldest, but it wasn’t uncommon. Their senses had to remain on high alert as they took note of every scent, sound, and shift within the Netherwood. The Huntsman’s eyes were sharp as he scanned the land making up the easternmost point of their territory. In truth, he didn’t think there was much to really look at, apart from piles of snow and dead trees and plants. And it was precisely because of the endless sea of decayed brown and white that made up the winter Wood, that the sudden appearance of emerald green stuck out like a sore thumb that snagged his attention.

Sanemi drew to a halt even as Shinobu and his brother continued forward, his eyes drawn to a small thatch of wildflowers poking up from beneath the snow coating the Wood. While he was not as familiar with the various florae and vegetation which grew in the Netherwood, his mate was, and Y/N had been particularly vocal about her love for one particular flower which bloomed only in the winter.

He squatted down and thumbed the dainty bell petals that drooped toward the ground, their white almost a perfect match to the snow below. He smiled to himself. There was no doubt; these were his Y/N’s beloved snowdrops.

The Wolf had felt guilty when he’d gently broken the news the Western border where she’d first spotted her favorite flower wasn’t safe enough accommodate her to venturing out there on her own. His Lamb was a curious one, but he’d been relieved when she hadn’t pressed him for any further explanation; if she had, he didn’t know what he would’ve told her. Because truthfully, he still had difficulty making sense of what he and his packmates had discovered laying right at their Western border only a week earlier.

“What in the name of the gods?” Genya whispered in horror.

Sanemi grimaced. “A monster did this, not the gods.” His fists clenched as he looked away from the grisly sight. “The gods likely ignored this poor girl as she cried for their mercy.”

Shinobu said nothing, only making a small squeak before she turned away, taking a few, quick steps toward the trees to collect herself. Sanemi couldn’t blame the young shifter for needing a moment to breathe. Though she was a doctor and had seen her faire share of ghastly wounds and missing limbs, Sanemi couldn’t quite recall the last time any of them had come across carnage quite like that which was splattered across this small section of the Netherwood, just outside of the territory’s Western border.

It was a girl, likely no more than eighteen, though the way her disembodied head was left crudely sitting atop a broken tree trunk, eyes wide and her mouth stretched open and frozen with her final scream, made it difficult to say with certainty.

The rest of her body – or rather, the pieces of it – were strewn about, soiling the otherwise pristine winter landscape with her gore. Truthfully, it was difficult to see what was left of her; her torso was barely more than a shoulder joint and a few rips, the remaining skin ragged and torn. Upon closer inspection, Sanemi thought he spied teeth marks – vicious and cruel – which had punctured the surrounding flesh while the mouth of whatever monster had found the girl ripped into her, feasting on her meat. It was the bottom half of the girl that disturbed him, disturbed all of them, the most. For there, just in front of the tree trunk upon which her head was displayed like some sort of prize, the girl’s lower body was posed, her legs lewdly spread and propped open, exposing her. Beneath her thighs, Sanemi could see where blood had saturated the ground so deeply, no snow remained.

“A monster?” Shinobu returned to the boys, her hand pressed tightly against her mouth. She looked away, unable to stomach the scene. “What monster would leave so much behind?”

Sanemi made to look away, but his eyes snagged on the sight of a fox mask, partially buried in the snow. From where he stood, he could see it had been broken in half and spattered with the girl’s blood. His stomach roiled. “We’ve seen other monsters leave parts behind. It’s not uncommon.”

Shinobu’s mouth set into a hard line, her fists clenched. “What monster do you know that…poses its victims?”

The white Wolf fought the shudder that licked down his spine. She was right; errant body parts, disemboweled humans, that was all to be expected when one traversed through the Wood. It was common; unfortunate and a dastardly waste of human life, but common. But, as Sanemi wracked his memory, he found that he could not recall a single instance, in all his years of living in the Netherwood, of a monster that made such a gruesome display of its victim.

Shinobu looked to where the girl’s head sat, and her expression darkened. “This is a message.”

Genya’s head snapped to the young shifter, fear creeping into his eyes. “A m-message? But why? We have no enemies."

“No, we don’t,” Sanemi agreed, voice hoarse with emotion. He turned away from the sight, fearful that he might begin to dry heave if he did not. “Shinobu, where is that coming from?”

The Shifter turned to him; her face ashen. “What else could it be? That --,” she lifted a shaking hand to point at the head staring blankly in horror at them. “You don’t think that isn’t some sort of signal? A warning?”

He winced. “It is a tragedy; but not one we haven’t seen before.”

A vein pulsed in the young doctor’s brow – a telltale sign of her anger – and she turned away from the two brothers, fists clenched as she worked to calm herself. Her back remained rigid as the seconds ticked by, but with a shaky exhale, she turned back to her packmates, face stony but neutral.

“What do you suggest we do?” Her voice was hollow and it made the Huntsman’s gut twist.

Sanemi’s eyes found the girl’s where her head sat atop the broken tree stump, wide, but lifeless. “We bury her,” he finally spoke, voice rough with emotion. “Whatever beast is responsible took her life, but it cannot have her dignity, too.”

“Aniki?” Genya called from several yards away, having only just noticed that his elder brother was no longer walking with the other two wolves.

“I’m coming,” Sanemi called back, fighting off the shudder rippling down his spine. He shook his head in an effort to clear the disturbing memory from his conscience and swiftly pulled his pocketknife from the pouch on his hip. With a quick swipe of the blade through the viridian stalks of the flowers, the Wolf gathered a handful of snow drops and tucked them safely inside his satchel. Flowers secured, Sanemi jogged to catch up with his pack mates, hoping that his small offering would make up for his inability to take Y/N to pick the snow drops herself.

The pack continued to patrol for a little while longer before breaking for lunch. They’d come upon a small creek bed, dried up for the winter, but with several sizeable boulders that provided them with adequate seats to sit and eat their rations of dried beef and fruit.

Though he’d butted heads with the pack’s doctor earlier, Shinobu and Sanemi fell back into easy conversation, if for no other reason than to ease Genya’s palpable anxiety as they ate. Sanemi was watching with amusement as Shinobu busied herself with teasing Genya, who’d slyly asked after when Mitsuri was due to return for a visit, when suddenly, the world around him fell away, a violent ringing shrieking in his ears.

Sanemi Shinazugawa was no stranger to fear. Fear was a rational experience; it was what kept him alive, kept him moving, even when everything within him begged him to give up, to stop. He’d known fear that day when the monster attacked his family, maiming him and Genya while killing everyone else. He’d known it again the first time he shifted, the moon ominously down upon him as his skin rippled and his joints contorted.

But this was not mere fear; this was terror. Pure, unadulterated and boundless terror like he’d never before known. It was paralyzing; the kind that locked you where you stood and would not let your body move, no matter how much your brain screamed at you otherwise. It broke him out in a cold sweat, his body unable to regulate its own temperature as it trembled.

And yet, the terror was not his own; not there, sitting with his pack mates as they rested during their routine patrol. It was precisely because it wasn’t his terror to begin with that ever hair on Sanemi’s body stood straight on end as the sensation rippled through him like the aftershock of some earthen calamity. There was only one way for him to feel such soul-shattering trepidation when he was otherwise safe and sound; because that meant Y/N — his mate — was anything but.

Sanemi sprung to his feet, not caring at the wide-eyed alarm of his closest friend and brother as they voiced their concern. He was far too focused on thundering her name down their shared bond, demanding that she answer, that she give some sort of sign as to her location so he could run to her, help her, protect her —

Another surge of that hot, frantic alarm and then nothing.The bond went silent.

And Sanemi knew terror — true terror.

—————

For miles, Sanemi and his pack tracked the scent of his mate, having immediately sprung into action the moment he’d been able to choke out her name and the word “danger.”

At first, they followed the trial back to the heart of their territory, right to the home they shared. Some foolish part of him had hoped they would leap into the valley surrounding their cabin-dens and see smoke billowing merrily from the chimney, signaling that Y/N was bustling away inside at the hearth. Desperately, he’d hoped the sharp flare of panic he’d felt before the bond went silent was a mere fluke; that his fiancé was safe and warm and unharmed. But, as the pack drew closer to the small, clustered hilltop dens, Sanemi knew his feeble attempts at optimism were futile. His mate’s scent continued well past the Wolves’ dens, and he dreaded the way the Wood seemed to swallow every last trace of her whole.

Y/N’s scent continued in an unbroken trail due west, and with each bit of ground the Wolves and Shifter covered, the knot in Sanemi’s gut tightened. By the time the small pack closed in around the very edge of their territory, Sanemi’s anxiety had devolved into utter dread.

The Western border. She’d gone to the Western border.

The Wolf sped ahead of his pack and launched himself through a small break in the trees – right at the outermost limit of their territory. Nausea crept up the back of his throat as his mind registered his mate’s trail led precisely to the same spot where he and the others had discovered the brutalized, half-eaten remains of the girl with the fox mask mere days earlier. Sanemi thundered to a stop, his chest heaving as he looked wildly around the clearing. There was a sickening sweetness in the air that made his nose burn, but beneath the poisonous stench of flowers — lotus flowers, Sanemi noted grimly — he could smell it. Though faint, the scent of clove and juniper berries was unmistakable; Y/N. But the scent of Sanemi’s home was undercut by the pungent, lingering bite of her fear.

He traced a path to where her fading scent was the strongest, his gut souring as the trail led to a patch of snow drops that had been laid flat against the earth, crushed. But it was the sight of her basket, toppled and discarded haphazardly to the side, that sent the fur on his back standing straight up. With a shudder that hardly registered, the Huntsman shifted back to his human form.

He bellowed his mate’s name, the echo of his anguished plea reverberating off hollow bases of rotting trees.

The ground trembled as both Genya and Shinobu skidded into the clearing behind him, eyes alert and ears pricked for any sign of danger — or of their friend’s missing mate.

Sanemi paid them no mind, continuing only to roar his fiancé’s name, the sound of Genya’s pleading, cautious whimpers lost beneath the waves of his tormented howls. The Wolf could not bring himself to care that he might call forth every foul creature which resided in the Netherwood out from the shadows. Let them come, let them attempt to get between him and his mate; Sanemi would relish tearing through them with every swipe of his claw and snap of his jaws. Nothing would stop him from finding her, even if it meant he had to burn the Wood to cinders.

“Her scent tracks north,” Shinobu’s voice cleaved through the roaring in Sanemi’s ears. “As does whatever this — floral stench is.”

The Huntsman’s lips curled into a snarl. The sickly-sweet odor of flowers set his teeth on edge, made his stomach twist and contort into a knotted, sour lump.

Genya paced ahead a few feet; eyebrows drawn close together. “A-aniki,” the tremble in his brother’s voice made Sanemi’s blood turn to ice.

Both he and Shinobu turned apprehensively towards the youngest Wolf who was standing beside a gnarled, ancient oak tree whose bark was blackened by rot. Genya leaned forward, carefully lifting something that had been ensnared around the tree’s roots jutting up through the frozen earth. Cold dread settled like a stone weight in Sanemi’s gut. For there, pinched delicately between his fingers was a piece of scarlet wool, its edges ragged and torn. And though it blended in against the crimson of the cloak, all three wolves caught the unmistakable scent of iron which adorned the fabric: blood. Human blood. Y/N’s blood.

Shinobu’s violet eyes settled on Sanemi’s quaking form. “Can you feel the bond?”

Sanemi knew that she already knew the answer, just as he knew what the Shifter was truly asking. After all, there was only one sure way that a mating bond could be severed: it did not simply ebb and reappear at random. He could not control the claws which burst from his fingertips, but he clenched his fists tight to keep the others from seeing how his control fractured. “She’s not dead.” He snarled.

The slight young shifter kept her chin high, though her voice softened. “Sanemi, I know –”

“She’s not dead,” he snapped, baring his teeth at his packmate. “She is alive and wounded, but not dead.”

Shinobu was wise enough to keep quiet, but Sanemi refused to meet her eyes anyways; he knew what he would see swimming in those luminous violet orbs if he dared to look.

Doubt. Pity.

He could stomach neither.

“Her scent goes north before splitting into different directions,” Sanemi said with an unnerving calmness, pushing forward to the edge of the territory’s border. “One goes northeast and the other tracks west.” He turned back to his brother and friend, ignoring the tightening in his stomach at their wary, timid expressions. “Shinobu, go back to your den and wait. She has lost blood and will likely need your help once we find her.”

“Genya,” Sanemi turned his attention toward his brother, who straightened. “Y/N’s scent is weaker to the west than it is to the north. See what you can find, but if you haven’t found her by sunrise, come back to me.”

The young boy nodded, and Sanemi felt a rush of gratitude at the fierce determination which blazed to life in his eyes. “And if I find her?”

“Howl but do not wait for me – get her to Kocho’s.”

Genya nodded and turned to shift but paused. “And if you find her, brother?”

The white Wolf’s eyes darkened. “Listen for my howl and come to us. I will make sure Y/N is safe, and then the two of you are to go straight home.” Sanemi’s voice dropped to a low growl, vicious and lethal. “And then I shall deal with Douma.”

---

Time was an odd thing. When you’d first entered the Wood, you’d lamented your inability to track time as it passed. You’d only vaguely been able to identify that you’d been running for just over a day and a half before you’d found Sanemi, but you’d been utterly unable to discern whether it was morning, afternoon, or evening when you’d stumbled upon that creek bed. Now, however, you had no concept of time. Though, that had less to do with any shortcomings of yours and everything to do with the monster who kept bringing you in and out of consciousness, awakening you with a sharp press of his taloned nail against your forehead just so he could beat you, only to send you careening back into the darkness when he decided your screams and cries had grown too loud for comfort.

You’d been straddling the thin, wavering line between consciousness and oblivion for what felt like hours. You were helpless to accept yet another brutal, sharp kick square to your abdomen, thanks to the way Douma had you restrained. Your arms were stretched out uncomfortably on either side, weighed down by twin, heavy cuffs of iron that your captor had locked around your wrists before you’d regained consciousness after he’d initially stolen you away.

“Now, now, Y/N, that won’t do,” Despite the cloying sweetness of lotus which clung to his skin, Douma’s breath was putrid as it fanned over your face, smelling distinctly of rotted meat. “You need to keep those pretty eyes open for me, hm?”

Against your will, your eyelids were forced back open, and you could not avoid the chilling sight of your Village Worship Leader’s cruel smile, the sharp points of his fangs far too close for comfort. You wanted to recoil from his proximity; but the monster – the Fae, he’d gleefully confirmed earlier – had you helplessly trapped. Anger boiled under your skin as you glared at him, your mind clearing with each second you were forced to bear his rancid breath.

“Tell me, you lovely little creature – when you spread your legs for him at night, did you truly believe yourself to be beyond my reach?”

“What would your dear grandmother say, Y/N?” Douma shook his head mournfully. “To think that her precious granddaughter would allow herself to be so sullied by a beast –”

“Fuck you!” You snarled; your teeth bared in a defiant display of rage belied by the weak way you tugged against your restraints. “You are the one who stole her from me – don’t you dare soil her memory!”

The beastly village worship leader merely shrugged his shoulders. “She tried to conceal what was mine.” He tutted. “Is being a beast’s whore really more preferable than marriage, my love?”

“I would rather be a beast’s whore than your victim.” You spat with as much acid as you could muster. “You’re nothing more than a wretched murderer.”

“Is that so?” Douma intoned, as though growing bored with your conversation. “Even still, whores can serve a fruitful purpose. Kotoha did, after all.”

“Don’t you say her name,” you snarled. “You murdered her in cold blood and dumped her body in the Wood.” Hatred, hot and venomous, coated your tongue, igniting a newfound boldness. “She was kind and good and loyal, even to you – and you killed her.”

“Killed her?” Douma repeated, eyebrows raising in surprise before he waived his hand dismissively. “Oh, please don’t let your ire with me trivialize what I do with my wives, Y/N. It wounds me.”

“I’m no murderer, my dear,” the Fae’s temporary irritation with you melted into unrestrained, savage glee. “You see, my wives serve a far more…enticing purpose beyond that which even your feeble little mind can comprehend.”

You paid him little mind, instead pulling harshly against your restraints, your anger vicious enough that you wanted to tear free, to sink your nails into his skin and rip him open –

“I was going to consume Kotoha on our wedding night,” Douma’s smile was wicked and cruel as you froze. In an instant, all your fire was extinguished, doused out by a bucket of water as icy and chilling as the malicious glint in the Fae’s eyes. “I was going to bed her and devour her, just as I did with the previous three girls.” His voice dripped with poisoned honey. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like, my lovely girl? After all, all living creatures are driven by two, distinct hungers – appetites of the flesh and of the stomach.” He licked his lips. “You cannot blame me for combining both to sate mine.”

Douma let his words hang heavy in the air. For a moment, there was no sound but the wind as it whipped around and howled through the barren Wood, edged only by your ragged, panting breaths. Your knees shook hard enough that standing was nearly impossible, especially in your restrained state. Bile rose in your throat. It was worse – the fate that had greeted your friend had been so much worse than you’d imagined.

“So I planned to use Kotoha the same as the other three, but when we returned to my Estate, I noticed something peculiar about her,” Douma sighed dreamily. “Her scent – it was unlike anything I’d ever come across before. Mouthwatering.”

“Her pregnancy,” he confirmed, delighting in your horror. “The village whore was only a few months along, but the moment I scented her, I knew I could not rush something so delectable; so unique. I elected to wait for her to ripen. Trust when I say it was an exercise of restraint to not enjoy her sooner.” His grin could have curdled milk. “However, I can be patient when I know there is a reward at the end. And the girl did satisfy my other appetite — though not exactly in the way I prefer.” Douma waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t find willing partners all that exciting, but a cunt is a cunt. Again, patience is my virtue.”

“You are vile,” you choked, blood coursing hot through your veins. “Kotoha was a good girl, who only wanted to be taken care of and loved!”

“I did grow fond of her,” Douma continued smoothly. “In fact, I considered even allowing her to live and remain with me. Simple as she was, she was quite entertaining — always singing the sweetest songs. Even that boy of hers was adorable in his own way.” Douma sighed, suddenly wistful. “It was unfortunate - my men, though loyal, are pitifully stupid. They seemed to have been hopeful that, before I had my way with Kotoha, I would allow them to have a small taste. I suppose even they couldn’t be satisfied fucking their own wives — or horses.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. “As if I would allow them to sully my feast with their filth.”

“Regardless, Kotoha overheard them and was offended. She tried to take her child and run — straight into the Netherwood, the imbecile.” He fluttered his eyelashes at you in a mocking display of affection. “The poor simpleton didn’t have your resourcefulness, I’m afraid.” The fae shook his head, mournfully. “I caught her near a cliffside waterfall — she’d barely made it half a kilometer into the Wood.” He looked to his nails, so monstrously sharp and curved, and picked at something beneath them, disinterested. “The stupid fool tossed her child over the cliff — as though it would save him.” A smirk unfurled across his mouth. “No matter; it made bringing her back to my Estate all the easier.” Douma stretched his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers and exhaled, the portrait of nonchalance and carelessness. “And then she joined my other wives before her. It was almost difficult to tell which was tastier in the moment — her body or her flesh.”

“I do miss her sweet voice,” Douma added after a moment, ignorant to the way you slumped against the forest floor, legs no longer able to support your weight. “But I suppose that will always be a part of me now, wouldn’t you say?” The rainbow-eyed Fae looked to you and smiled. “Besides, then I set eyes upon you, and all was forgotten. I knew I simply had to have you.”

You no longer trembled in fear; the horror of his revelation sat too heavy in your limbs, as did the realization that would not see your beloved Huntsman again. “So what shall you do with me?” Your voice was low, flat, as you lifted your eyes to meet those of the smirking beast. “Shall I join my sisters before me? Am I to now share their fate?” It was a masochistic question, for certain, but one you needed him to answer. If you were to die like Kotoha and the women before her, then you would do everything in your power to cling to the last remnants of your dignity. You would not cry; you would not scream — no matter how he tortured you.You would not give him the satisfaction of your suffering; you couldn’t. But you needed time to prepare — no matter how clear it was that yours was up.

In a flash, the Fae closed the distance between you and took your face in his hand.“Oh Y/N,” Douma’s eyes swam with a pity that did not match his tightening grip on your jaw. “I am worth far more than some pathetic, scrappy village girl.” Your eyes prickled at the way his nails dug into the skin of your cheek. “Especially now that you’ve led me to something far more suitable to my tastes.”

Your stomach flipped violently against the putrid stench of the Fae’s breath as it washed over your face. Douma tilted your head from side to side, inspecting. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” He hummed. “That an insignificant little girl like you could enchant a Wolf.”

“And not just an ordinary shifter; a Werewolf,” he practically glowed with his excitement. “One of the rarest yet most powerful beasts to walk our Earth. Imagine my surprise, then, when I tracked you right to that little cave den after you let him mark and fuck you.”

Your eyes widened and a shaky breath wheezed from your lungs. He couldn’t have known — shouldn’t have known that Sanemi marked you. The bite changed your scent — the Huntsman had confirmed it. And yet, when he’d found you on the Wolves’ western border, he’d known exactly where to strike — exactly where to sever the bond between you and your mate and render you entirely helpless. “H-how—?��

The Fae’s finger was cold as it caressed your cheek. “Did you honestly think you were safe simply because you let a beast rut into you? Is that why you debased yourself so — allowed a Wolf to fuck you in the middle of the Wood like some wild whore?”

Your stomach seized with violent nausea. There was no way he could have known what you’d done with Sanemi in the Wood; not unless he’d been far closer than either of you were aware.

“Magic begets magic, stupid girl,” Douma dropped the sugary sweet syrup coating his voice, dropping to something more vicious; menacing. “Your cloak has been calling to me from the moment I stepped foot in the Wood. It left a trail only I could follow.” His fingers crudely pinched your cheeks, pulling a small, discomforted whimper from the back of your throat. “You were never going to evade me, darling Y/N. I am inevitable.”

It felt as though the ground below you had opened wide, leaving you to free fall through the air with no end — not safety — in sight. The realization slammed into you with savage, bruising force. The mating mark had done nothing to conceal you, after all; this whole time, Douma had been toying with you like a barn cat did a mouse.

“Your cloak was enchanted with the same magic my kind is made from,” he purred. “The fae have always had a certain proclivity for finding and possessing objects we recognize as kin — and your precious cloak is no exception.” Douma pressed the knife-like tip of his nail into your lower lip until you felt a bead of blood gather and slide down your chin. “Try as you might, your darling little heirloom led me right to a prize beyond my wildest imagination.”

His grip on your face loosened and Douma’s fingers dropped to toy with the ends of your hair. “Werewolves are capable of slaughtering a hundred beings — whether human or monster, in a matter of seconds.” Italian was with no small amount of horror that you realized the fae was drooling. “But as I said, they are rare. Only a Werewolf can create other werewolves — and only through blood.” Douma’s eyes found the juncture of your shoulder, to where your mark lay torn and bloodied. “Magic — including curses — is fickle like that. Most magic requires a blood debt; by blood it is done, and by blood it is undone.”

“I’ve only ever met one other Werewolf — years ago. I barely escaped with my life.” He grimaced slightly. “But, that was a seasoned beast; your Wolf has kept his curse under seal, hasn’t he, sweet Y/N?”

For once, you were grateful that your fear and dread had swollen your tongue leaving you incapable of speech. But your silence only served as confirmation for the demon fae, whose sickening grin returned.

“Humanity is a curse,” Douma tutted, chuckling to himself. “I do not imagine it would take much effort to push your Wolf past his breaking point.” He clicked his tongue. “His heart is still human, after all; and the human heart is so very malleable — so easily swayed by suggestion.” Douma shifted away from you and moved toward another tree. Bending quickly behind it, he lifted something from the ground, damp and sodden with both snow and your blood, and turned it over in his hands.

Your cloak. “I do apologize for helping myself,” he sighed, nose crinkling down at the rumpled fabric in distaste. “It was such a darling little cloak. I’m sure you must have been quite fond of it.” Your stomach folded in on itself and you began to tremble once more. It was not enough that Douma had stolen your biggest source of protection — and apparent damnation — clean from your shoulders before you’d regained consciousness. Now, the demon regarded your precious heirloom as though it was the key to some treasure only he knew how to find.

“I was quite kind, was I not?” Douma turned his attention back to you. “I allowed you both a few blissful weeks together — I let your bond deepen, and your love blossom like the most delicate of flowers.” He paused, looking at you expectantly like you were going to throw yourself before him in a simpering display of gratitude. When you did not, he frowned. “Surely, you should be grateful for the happiness I’ve permitted — it should comfort you to know that you will be free of the torment of your pitiful little existence having at least known the love of another, if only for a short while.”

“But as for your beloved Huntsman,” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head mournfully. “He shall have to grieve the loss of his sweet mate before he can assume his true form.” He looked back to you suddenly, eyes wide. “You should be honored!” He said with an excitable gasp, clapping his hands together. “Your death shall free you both.”

Despite the frigid chill of the air, a cold sweat broke across your brow. Your lungs constricted to the point of pain as Douma’s intentions settled over you with suffocating weight. No. Not him. Not Sanemi. “Take me,” you pled, quietly. “Do to me what you will — torture me, brutalize me, take me by force; devour me until not even my bones remain — but take me in his stead.”

Douma seemed to revel in your resignation as you slumped against the base of the tree in defeat, your head bowed in submission, but he made no movement toward you. “No, my dear,” the accursed fae hummed. “As tempting as I find you to be, one thing I did not consider in allowing you to whore yourself out to your Wolf was how it would affect your appeal.”

“You smell revolting,” he explained with a sickly sweet smile. “I’ve smelled mangy dogs that stink better than you.” That frozen, unnerving smile fell away. “It is a shame,” Douma admitted, tilting your head from side to side. “You are quite beautiful; no doubt fertile, even though your beloved Wolf failed to impregnate you.”

One taloned hand dragged down your front, squeezing. “And you’re very soft, my dear fiancé,” his voice dropped to a coo. “Delectably so.” The Fae stood, brushing his hands off as though the mere act of touching you had soiled him. “Perhaps I will still take you once I’ve consumed your mate,” Douma said casually. “If there’s anything left of you to have, that is.” He looked to you in faux-concern, his eyebrows knit and mouth serious. “After all, the Netherwood is full of monsters, Y/N — there are so many beasts that would kill for a taste of your pretty flesh.” That mocking smile returned and Douma turned to leave, your cloak safely draped around his arm. “Take care!” He called over his shoulder, hand lifted in the air in farewell.

“DOUMA.” You shrieked after him, arms straining as you pulled against your restraints with all your might. “DOUMA.” But the Fae disappeared into the icy mist, and silence fell over the Netherwood once more.

—

The scent of lotus flowers had grown stronger – oppressively so – the more ground Sanemi covered. It was an odor he was sure he’d never before encountered, even if it felt vaguely familiar, though he could not, for the life of him, understand why. Though the stench of the aquatic blossoms made his nose sting, the Huntsman persisted, desperately clinging to the faint scent of juniper and clove which ran with it.

The fur on his back rose; he was drawing closer, he could feel it, even if he did not know what awaited him at the end of this trail. What he did know, however, was that his mate was likely harmed, and he would need to tread carefully in getting her back, no matter how much his instincts roared at him to find Douma and rip him limb from limb. But Sanemi kept her face in his mind’s eye as he nosed his satchel from where it was hung around his neck and shifted back to his human form. He dressed quickly, taking care to tuck his hand-axe into his belt. He resumed his trek, cautious, every one of his finely tuned instincts buzzing in his hypervigilance.

Something jerked in his gut, halting him in his tracks. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight, and his ears picked up on a subtle movement to his right. Though the moon had long since faded, with dawn rapidly approaching, he still watched the shadows between the trees, his eyes shining as he scanned the dark, and waited. An icy blast of wind cut through the silent, still trees of the Netherwood, stirring up a flurry of snowflakes where they’d settled upon the earth. The frigid bite of the winter air tore right through the layers of Sanemi’s clothes, bruising him with its cold. From behind the ancient, gnarled trunks of the blackened, skeletal trees that surrounded him, came a thick, icy fog. Sanemi blinked rapidly in an effort to clear his vision, but the haze persisted, overwhelming his senses. Despite the prevalence of the fog, Sanemi’s heightened sense of sight was able to discern the faint outline of something dark and solid as it made its way toward him. As it drew closer, his stomach dipped with the realization that the shadow was not a thing, but a person.

The figure emerging through the mist was preceded only by the nauseatingly saccharine stench of lotus blossoms that made Sanemi’s gut twist and knot. Though he’d never laid eyes on the being now standing before him, with those unnerving, rainbow-hued eyes and hollow smirk, Sanemi knew he’d found him – Douma. And, it suddenly clicked why Douma’s scent seemed familiar even if the leering figure before him was not. Magic. Douma’s poisonously sweet stench was edged by the distinct fragrance of magic; one that he’d come to know intimately thanks to his Mate’s enchanted cloak. Horror, cold and violent, raked its talons down his spine. It was impossible; no man could carry the distinct aroma of magic with him, so entwined with his own essence as to make it nearly impossible to separate the two.

Only Douma wasn’t a man. He was Fae; a demon Fae, at that.

The more Sanemi weighed his opponent, the more obvious it became. His skin was pallid and gray, his unnerving, multi-colored eyes too bright, too luminous against the muted darkness of the Wood. The Huntsman dropped his gaze to his long, spindly fingers stained dark red, and saw that they were tipped with wickedly sharp, black claws.

Douma’s grin only widened, the tips of his upper fangs extending nearly to his lower lip. There was no doubt about it; somehow, in spite of logic, Douma was Fae and that changed everything about how Sanemi assessed the threat he posed. Worst of all, there was no sign of the mortal woman who held his heart.

“You must be the Wolf who stole my dear betrothed away,” Douma’s voice was as slimy as his presence, and Sanemi fought to suppress his shudder.

“‘Tis hard to steal what does not belong to you,” Sanemi retorted coldly. “I wasn’t aware of any law that permits one to lay claim over another against their will.”

“Her grandmother accepted on her behalf,” Douma’s lie was easy and smooth, and its obviousness made the Wolf’s blood boil. “The girl broke the agreement struck between our houses by fleeing; I had the right to pursue her.”

Sanemi clenched his fists hard enough that his nails broke through the skin of his palms. He drew upon the resulting grounding throb to keep himself calm, to not take the bait the Fae was dangling to brazenly before him. “If that’s the case, then your grievance is with me,” He kept his voice calm, but firm. “As the one who usurped your fiance. There’s no need for her to be involved at all.” The Huntsman’s hand fell to the grip of his axe where it was secured safely against his hip. “Let’s settle this like reasonable men. You against me.”

“I am no more a man than you are, Wolf.” Douma’s tone dripped with poisoned honey. “Let us not pretend otherwise – it would be so boring.”

Sanemi lifted a hand before him and flexed, allowing his own claws to punch through the tips of his fingers. “As you wish, demon. But you crossed into my territory and stole one of my pack away. Return her and then we can play.”

Swirled, multicolored irises rose to meet him. “I’d heard the Wolves’ borders were nearly impenetrable. You can imagine my disappointment when I found that not to be the case.”

“So pretty,” Douma sighed. “She was so very lovely in that red cloak of hers, picking flowers. Like something out of a dream. A chilling smile revealed four, sharp fangs. “She was even more beautiful when she began trembling in fear.”

“I will kill you,” Sanemi’s promise was as cold and severe as his tone. “But I might be inclined to make it less tortuous if you tell me where she is.”

Douma whistled lowly, shaking his head. “I’m afraid my fiancé won’t be joining us, Wolf.” He strolled towards him, hands casually folded behind his back. He came to a still about two meters away, his stance relaxed; unbothered. “You’ll have to excuse her absence.”

“Where is she?” Sanemi snarled, gripping the handle of his axe with crushing force.

“The proper question isn’t where,” the white-haired fae tutted. “It is a matter of what’s left.” Douma’s eyes flashed. “And to that I say — not much.”

Sanemi felt as though he’d been plunged into an icy river, his body enveloped by a cold that would neither let him breathe nor move, rendering him helpless to be thrashed and broken against the rocks concealed beneath its rapids.

“I was beginning to think I was going to be denied what is mine, Wolf.” Douma continued, apparently oblivious to the anguish mounting within the Wolf before him. “But luckily for me I found her wandering around the Wood — the silly girl, she must not realize how dangerous the Netherwood truly is.” The Fae’s voice softened slightly, a mocking smile revealing two pointed, sharp fangs. “So dangerous, in fact, it seemed she let someone else stake their claim to her.”

“Not that I minded,” he shrugged. “After all, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her in the village that she would make a delectable little bedmate.” His affectionate chuckle made Sanemi’s skin erupt in gooseflesh. “So feisty — and so very beautiful.” Douma winked at the frozen Huntsman. “I understand now why you couldn’t resist her, Wolf; that little body of hers was so delightfully soft and warm.” His eyes turned cruel and his smile widened. “And so very tight.”

The Wolf’s blood ran cold. No. No.

Douma covered his mouth in mock-shock. “Oh! you will have to forgive me — I know wolves can be territorial when it comes to sharing their mates with others in that way,” he shook his head mournfully. “But she was my fiancé first — I had a right to claim her as well. I do hope you forgive me for taking that liberty.”

Sanemi’s heart lurched, his stomach twisting sickeningly in his gut. Beads of sweat gathered along his brow despite the frigid winter air. The rainbow-eyed fae savored his horror. “Human women are so very delectable, don’t you think?” He sighed dreamily. “So good at satisfying both appetites.” Douma frowned for a moment, considering. “Though, I don’t suppose you’ve ever had a taste for yourself,” he laughed to himself, like he’d made the most amusing little joke. “At least not in the way I like to taste them.”

“Perhaps you should give it a try!” Douma clapped his hands together in amusement. “After all, fertile human women are the most nutritious.”

Sanemi knees nearly buckled and Douma’s demented smile twisted into something cruel.

“She didn’t scream, you know, while I was enjoying her.” There was a cold malice in his eyes that made Sanemi want to run no matter how firmly the fae’s words rooted him where he stood. “Not so much as a little moan to let me know how well I was fucking her.” The monster with the kaleidoscope eyes shrugged, nonchalantly. “Though, that could have been because she was too busy trying to fight my men. She was a squirmer, your mate — I’m sure you knew that.” Douma’s clawed fingers twirled a lock of his silvery hair, his feline grin nothing short of predatory. “But they managed to hold her down well enough.”

“I was so close — your little mate’s cunt was still so sweet, even after she let you defile her.” Douma’s smile was nothing short of vicious, his voice dropping to a growl. “But when I finally tasted her — oh.”The fae’s eyes slid closed, as if in bliss, as he recalled the memory, shuddering in delight.“Then she started screaming,” Douma’s grin widened. “They all start screaming when I taste them.” He sighed. “She didn’t last much longer after that — I started with the neck, after all. Right on that little mark you gave her.”

A sickening grin. “But she did hold on long enough for me to finish. The same couldn’t be said for that little friend of hers I had before.” Douma wrinkled his nose. “I had to finish after I’d already consumed her.” He waved his hands placatingly at the shaking Wolf. “Oh, but please don’t worry!” His voice was pleading, as though he wanted to soothe Sanemi. “She still only had feelings for you! After all, it was your name she screamed.”

Sanemi could hardly control the tremble in his voice. “You’re lying.”

Even the muted light of day could not conceal the glint of Douma’s fangs as his grin widened. “It is a shame you think so,” the Fae simpered. “I suppose, then, you have no interest in this?”

There was a flash of red as Douma tossed something mishappen and lumpy at the Wolf. Without breaking eye contact, Sanemi’s hand lifted up and snatched it easily out of the air. He held Douma’s gaze for a heartbeat longer, before finally looking down at what he held in his hands. The tense breath he’d been holding wheezed out of his lungs at the sight of Y/N’s all too familiar scarlet riding cloak; or rather, what was left of it. The fabric was dirtied and torn, its edges and ends shredded as though it had been caught by something sharp — like claws. Or, Sanemi realized with a sickening wave of horror, like teeth.

He turned the cloak over in his hands, as though perhaps his mate was somehow tangled up within its folds. Sanemi’s heart seized as he realized his beloved Y/N was not hiding among the remaining threads of her cherished, tattered heirloom.

But something else of hers was; her blood. A great deal of it. It had dried in crusted patches along the crimson wool, blending in with the other dirt and grime coating the material; but the scent of iron was unmistakably hers. Sanemi’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he clutched the remnants of the cloak — of his mate — to his chest with trembling hands. Gone. Gone. She was gone. Just a sunrise and a half earlier, she’d been safe and warm in his arms, and now she was gone.

“It is a shame, though,” Douma confessed mournfully. “That you failed to impregnate lovely little Y/N before I found her.” The Fae’s lower lip stuck out in a mocking pout, oblivious to the way Sanemi shook with rage. “I so wanted to know what a pregnant woman tasted like – especially one carrying a little mutt.”

Had the Wolf anything in his stomach, it surely would have made a reappearance all over the forest floor. The idea that the monstrous creature smirking at him would have defiled something so sacred, something he and his mate so wanted –

Every one of Douma’s fangs were revealed as a sickening smile spread wide across his face. “It matters not; I’ve never been so full in my life – her flesh was a succulent little treat.”

Even the wind seemed to still as Sanemi’s eyes snapped to the Fae’s savage grin.

“Just like her cunt.”

The Huntsman’s vision went white as something vicious and primordial roared to life in his chest. A splitting, piercing screech echoed in his ears, drowning out the gleeful peals of laughter from the direction of the demon Fae, and the Wood around him fell away into nothing.

Somewhere, deep within himself, Sanemi stood before the open mouth of an iron cell. He could sense something stirring in the dark; but whatever door had kept the thing locked tightly away had been ripped clean from its hinges, and now, the Huntsman was left utterly before its mercy, though he could not for the life of him remember why he should care.

Because Sanemi could not stop the images assaulting his mind. He could not stop seeing her, face screwed tight in pain and anguish, as Douma’s men held down her arms and legs, trapping her as their leader had his way with her.

She’d screamed; she’d screamed as Douma violated her again and again, all while his teeth ripped into her flesh and he devoured her alive. She’d screamed for her mate to come help her; to come protect her and save her, the way a mate was supposed to protect and keep safe.

She’d screamed for him.

I swear it. He’d vowed to her. I will not allow him to lay a finger on you.

He hadn’t come. He hadn’t heard her, hadn’t been able to feel her desperate pleas and cries and pain down the mating bond. He hadn’t even known. She’d died alone; scared. And now, there was nothing left of her.

Beneath the rage that boiled beneath his skin, making him tremble and shake where he stood, Sanemi despaired, lost and broken. Somewhere, buried so deep in Sanemi’s psyche, a voice told him to give in; to let his curse take him over completely, and rip the fae before him limb from limb, to shred him until there was nothing of him left, just like he’d done to her. It was easy — so easy, for him to give into that instinct, so base and primal; to allow the beast he’d kept locked deep within out. He would do it to avenge her; avenge his mate.

Y/N’s face was the last thing he saw before Sanemi let the curse of the Werewolf consume him entirely.

The iron manacles Douma had snapped around your wrists weren’t conjoined — a fact you were grateful for. Rather, each shackle was connected to its own, heavy chain that he had looped tightly around the base of an ancient, gnarled oak tree that towered ominously over your head. There was a small sliver of space between the crude, thick metal of the iron cuffs and your wrist. You agonized over trying to worm at least one hand through the gap, certain that if you could get one hand free, the other would take only half as long.

You gripped the manacle of your right hand with your left and pulled, pushing the metal as you tried desperately to wiggle out of the cuff. The iron dug sharply into your wrists, the rough edges chafing your cold-sensitive skin. The outer curve of your thumb caught against the rim of the bind and your hand would not move further. You pulled and pulled until your right hand turned nearly purple with the strain, your teeth clenched so tight you feared they would crack as a frustrated scream tore from your throat.

“Damn it all!” You swore, arms relaxing for a moment while you caught your breath. The longer it took you to work yourself free of Douma’s chains, the more likely your chances of being sniffed out and devoured by one of the Netherwood’s beasts became. But your looming, grisly death in the maw of one of the Wood’s resident nightmares was the least of your concerns. Sanemi was in trouble; you had to get to him before Douma found him. Before he triggered the curse.

You shook your aching wrist in frustration, tugging sharply at the chains around the base of the tree in a half-hearted hope that perhaps Douma was, in fact, an imbecile, who neglected to secure them properly. But he wasn’t, you realized grimly, for the chains did not so much as loosen against all your tireless efforts.

Your eyes burned with frustrated tears that you knew better than to let fall. You couldn’t give up; not when it had been your own stupidity which had landed you in this mess in the first place. Not when it could easily lead to the death of the person you loved most. You took two, steadying breaths and rolled your shoulders, glaring down at the iron shackles locked around your wrists. After another moment, you turned towards the tree around which you’d been trapped. You pushed the excess chain against its base before placing one foot firmly against its rotted bark, trapping the iron chain beneath your heel. You twisted your right hand into the position you thought would give you the best chance of slipping free from your restraint and took one last breath. On the exhale, you pulled with every ounce of strength you possessed, a scream ripping through the silence of the Wood as the metal bit into your skin. It did you no good. On and on you continued, yanking and twisting and pulling at your manacles until the skin of your wrists turned bloody and ragged, the flesh in some places hanging off in ruined strips. Below you, the snow had turned an unsettling pinkish-red, and with no small amount of nausea did you realize you were making it even more likely some creature would sniff you out and tear you apart.

You kicked the base of the tree. “Fuck!” You snarled, spitefully stomping a few more times on the chains binding you to its bark. “Fuck!”

The issue wasn’t that your hands were too big to slide through the cuffs — rather, you felt almost certain that if given a little grease or sweat, you might just be able to slip them out. The problem was that here, in the middle of the frozen, snowy Wood, there was no such lubricant to be found. Furthermore, you realized as you grimaced down at your ruined wrists, there was an additional problem posed by the bones of your thumbs. That was where the manacles snagged every time you nearly pulled yourself free; those damn thumb joints.

You had no idea how much time had passed since Douma had strutted away, leaving you for dead in favor of seeking out your mate, but you knew that every minute which passed you by brought Sanemi closer and closer to catastrophe; and that was assuming it had not already befallen him. Douma had taken everything from you; he could not have Sanemi, too.

You cast your eyes wildly around the forest floor, looking for anything that could aid your escape. You were about to resort to your earlier approach of attempting to force your wrists from the manacles once more, when you landed on a small cluster of rocks, just to your left.

You cocked your head in consideration. Tentatively, you stuck your leg out to the one closest to where you were shackled and used the toe of your boot to pull it towards you. Once it was within reach of your aching hands, you picked it up and turned it over in thought. The stone was a little larger than one of your hands, and heavy. It had a decent amount of ridges and its edges were sharp, but it was solid, and not too difficult to hold. Your eyes flitted back to your other hand, bruised and torn and limp under the weight of the iron. An idea, terrible and horrifying as it was, began to bloom in your mind.

Sanemi had given everything he had to protect you; he’d put his life on the line for you after knowing you for a matter of minutes, without hesitation. Time and time again, the Huntsman had sacrificed his well-being to give you a fighting chance here in the Netherwood.

What had you done, aside from being his biggest liability?

Your fingers clenched around the heavy stone as you made up your mind, fiery determination running hot through your veins. It was time to repay Sanemi for all of his sacrifice and selfless acts of love.

You knelt upon the frozen ground of the Netherwood and laid your left hand against the earth, your thumb facing up. Your right arm trembled as it rose high above your head, but your fingers tightened around the stone, allowing the grit of the sediment to steady you. You remained like that for a moment; huddled over your hand, the other poised high in the winter sky as you summoned every last ounce of your courage and nerve.

You closed your eyes briefly, inhaling once and holding your breath. Once you counted to ten, you opened your eyes with renewed focus. A deafening hush fell over the Netherwood, as though the very trees themselves waited with bated breath.

A lamb no longer; it was time to be a wolf.

Your arm cleaved through the winter air as you brought down the rock with all your might and smashed it into your hand below.

Newly freed, the sharp winter air burned your lungs with every heaving gasp you took as you stumble-ran through the Netherwood. Your feet caught on nearly every upturned rock and tree root protruding from the frozen earth below you, but you would not allow yourself to fall. Instead, adrenaline, hot and sweet allowed your legs to keep moving, kept your brain focused and sharp even as the world around you swirled as a result of your blood loss.That adrenaline also helped to dull whatever pain you knew you should feel at the ends of your arms, where your hands hung limply from your wrists. Purple and bloodied, your bones jutted out at odd angles from your repeated blows with the heavy stone you’d found.

In retrospect, perhaps the decision to liberate yourself from your bonds by shattering your hands hadn’t been your finest plan of action; especially considering you had no idea where Sanemi could be in the endless expanse of thickly clustered trees that made up the cursed forest. But that decision had been better than simply waiting for some man-eating monster to stumble upon you, chained and helpless against some rotting tree, and so, you could not allow yourself to regret your choice. Even if it meant you never fully recovered the use of your hands.

Regardless, you couldn’t worry about that now; Sanemi was the priority. And to save him, you first had to survive getting through the Wood, a feat made all the more difficult in the absence of your grandmother’s cloak. Without its protection, it was even more likely that you would fall victim to one of the monstrous creatures that assuredly watched you as you struggled through the trees, waiting for you to slow down enough to ambush you and sate the hunger in their belly.

You cursed as your foot caught on yet another tree root that threatened to send you sprawling across the dirt without the ability to even catch yourself. By some divine intervention, you managed to steady yourself just before you hit the ground, though your thighs ached under the strain of your attempt to remain upright. The dark outline of the Wood grew blurrier by the moment. Briefly, you wondered whether you would pass out from the combination of your exhaustion and blood loss. So concentrated were you on trying to push yourself forward, on forcing yourself to remain upright and in motion, that you did not hear the crack of branches under foot, nor the rustle of leaves as something made its way toward you; not until it was too late.

A piercing howl echoed through the Woods, sending you ricocheting into mindless hysteria. You made to dart around a tree in a feeble attempt to evade whatever it was that had cornered you, but instead of escaping, you slammed into something solid and warm. The force of the collision sent you stumbling back, but before you could fall, something else shot out, gripping your forearm and yanking you back to steady footing. But the thing that had you in its grasp would not let go, and it sparked a new panic in your blood as you began struggling to wrench yourself free from its grip, to run -

A startled, urgent gasp of your name snapped you out of your panicked trance. Your head snapped up to meet the face of the thing – the person – standing with his hand around your arm, your eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to focus. At the familiar sight of mowhaked black hair and wide, anxious violet eyes, you loosed a cry of relief and flung your arms tightly around his neck. Genya’s arms hung frozen at his sides for a moment before hesitantly, but firmly, winding around you.

“Genya!” You gasped, “where is Sanemi?” Your voice sounded foreign, dry enough to crack thanks to the harsh winter air you’d been gulping down yet shrill with panic.

You half pushed yourself over his shoulders by your forearms, frantically scanning the tree line behind him for the sight of that familiar mop of snowy hair, but the face of your home was nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N – thank the gods –”

You pulled away, eyes wild. “Where is your brother?”

The young Wolf blinked rapidly. “H-he – we picked up t-two scents,” his eyes raked over your bloodied, beaten form in horror. “He f-followed the trail that was strongest –”

You swore loud enough to startle a few birds from their perch nearby. Your legs were shaking hard enough that your knees buckled. Genya shifted, allowing you to lean into him for support. His hands slid down your forearms as he scanned you for further injury. His face drained of what little color remained. “S-sister, your hands – “

“Don’t worry about that right now,” you pulled your arms away from him in an effort to conceal your ruined hands from sight. “Can you track him? Can you find his scent?”

Genya gulped. “Y-yeah,” his nostrils widened. “But you’re b-bleeding so badly – you need help,”

But you were already shaking your head. “Genya, we need to go,” you pushed away from the boy and walked aimlessly around him , as though you had any clue as to what direction to pursue your mate. “We have to find him, we have to get to him before he does –”

The younger Wolf sputtered as he stumbled after you. A gentle hand closed delicately around your bicep, tugging lightly to turn you back around. “Sister, you’re wounded. We n-need to get you to a doctor –”

“No!” You cried. If you could have shaken him, you would have. “We have to find your brother – quickly.”

Genya looked pained. “Y/N, you’ve been missing for over a day – you’re barely standing –”

Panic bubbled the more you lost precious time. “Genya, Douma wasn’t after me,” you rested your forearms on his shoulders, attempting to squeeze him until he understood. “At least, I am no longer his priority – it’s Sanemi – Sanemi’s cursed form he wants to devour.”

The dark-haired Wolf’s eyes grew wide. “Y-you mean make him become the Werewolf?” He shook his head, his hand trying to tug you back in what you assumed was the opposite direction – toward safety and not Sanemi. “That’s impossible, the curse is sealed, Y/N – please, we need to go –”

“You’re not listening to me!” You exploded. “Douma – he’s going to unseal it somehow. He knows, Genya,” with a wince, you placed your purpled hands on either side of the boy’s face in a silent plea for him to understand. “He broke the mating bond with just a finger – he can do worse because he knows worse.”

Genya finally halted his desperate attempt to get you out of the Wood. The poor boy looked tortured, and his breath was choppy and hard.

“Sanemi once told me it would take something extremely traumatic for your seal to break – something that would make you want to give up your humanity,” and Genya’s eyes widened slightly as he nodded jerkily. “Think, Genya – what would trigger his curse? What would push him that far?”

The younger Shinazugawa was quiet for a moment, his eyes falling to the snow-covered floor of the Wood in thought. His face turned gray. “You,” he whispered. “If anything happened to you – I don’t think Brother would think twice about giving into the curse.”

Everything inside you went cold as Genya’s admission settled over you. You stumbled back from the boy, head spinning and the world threatening to disappear out from under your feet. Genya called your name worriedly, his hands wrapping around your biceps to steady you, as he tried to pull you back to reality.

“But you’re still alive –” the words tumbled from his mouth in a panicked jumble, as though the young Wolf was trying to convince himself that their situation was not nearly as dire as it undoubtedly was. “The bond broke, but you’re still here. Sanemi could track your scent in another direction –”

You froze. There was one way Douma could convince the Huntsman that something horrible had happened to you – something that, when coupled with the severed mating bond, could force him to believe the Fae had done the unthinkable. “My cloak,” you whispered in horror. “He took my cloak. And it is covered in my blood.”

Genya’s expression contorted to match your own frozen terror. For a moment, all you could do was stare at one another, breaths panting out in small, rapid puffs clouding the frigid winter air.

“You must take me to him,” you said flatly. The younger Wolf opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. “Genya, if Sanemi believes I am dead, nothing you do or say will convince him otherwise. He needs to see me.”

He blanched. “Y/N – please, it’s dangerous,” he pled. “We’ve only ever heard tales of what a Werewolf is capable of doing – if Sanemi loses control like that, he may not be able to tell friend from foe.”

You stepped closer to him, eyes blazing. “If you can get me there before Douma has a chance to spin his lies, then we won’t have to worry about the curse at all.”

He hesitated again. “Sister –”

“I am not asking.”

Genya shifted his weight anxiously from foot to foot as his logic warred with the severity of your command.

“I will do it,” he said quietly after a moment. “But if Aniki has already begun his transformation – you can’t go near him. You must let me deal with him.”

You nodded and tried to ignore the guilt you felt at the reproachful look in his eyes; for you both knew that you would not hesitate throwing yourself in front of your mate, no matter the risk. With a grimace, Genya retreated behind a cluster of elmwood trees. All was quiet for a moment before a large wolf stepped out hesitantly from the shadows. Genya’s wolf form was slightly larger than his elder brother’s, though he possessed the same brawn. His fur was an inky black that bordered violet in the watery gray light of winter, and slightly curly; but his eyes were the same glowing silver as Sanemi’s.

One massive paw stepped cautiously forward. A sharp exhale of air was tinged by a small whine as Genya looked mournfully at your mottled hands. He lowered his body until he lay flat against the ground, a single wag of his tail signaling you to climb atop his back. You braced your forearms between his shoulder blades, wincing slightly at the sharp, bone-splintering ache in your hands as your bruised and blistered skin brushed against his fur. You clambered on top of the young Wolf awkwardly, throwing your leg over his side to use as an anchor until you could wiggle yourself into a position that felt vaguely proper.

You leaned forward until your chest was pressed against his back and you wound your arms around his thick neck. “I’m ready,” you whispered. “Hurry, Genya.”

The younger Shinazugawa chuffed his acknowledgment before crouching low. With a great jolt, the Wolf sprang forward and launched into a fierce sprint through the Netherwood. As the trees around you melted into an endless blur, you cast out a single, desperate wish that you would not be too late.

Genya crashed through the Wood at a break-neck speed, howling every so often as he searched for his brother. Your panic began to melt into pure hysteria, when the young Wolf suddenly slowed, his ears perked as he listened to what you could not hear.

He growled, and your heart leapt into your throat. “Is it him, Genya?”

The Wolf huffed and launched into a sprint, forcing you to press yourself flat against his back. The winter wind was brutal and unforgiving, but you only set your jaw, the direness of your circumstances more painful than the icy gale that ripped at your hair and face.

Genya began to slow and you chanced pushing yourself up to see over his great head. Though winter Wood remained muted and dark even as the first rays of the morning sun trickled through the small gaps in the canopies of the trees above, the identity of the two figures that stood in a small clearing only a few meters ahead, was unmistakable. On one side was the loathsome Fae, identifiable from the odd style of his silvery hair. On the other, was him – your mate. Your Sanemi.

The scene before you was odd – unsettling so, as you hurriedly slid off Genya’s back and began stumbling toward your Huntsman. The Fae and the Wolf were not engaged in any battle; rather, there remained a healthy distance between the two. As you drew closer, it became obvious why; Sanemi was trembling – violently so, his head thrown back and his mouth stretched open. Heavy, choked gasps rattled out from his throat, and his hands were held out before him, their joints locked and contorted into odd angles.

Dread licked up your spine. You were too late; his curse had already been triggered.

“Sanemi!” You called desperately as you crashed through the brush. Douma stood with his back to you, eyes locked gleefully on your mate’s rippling form. “Sanemi!” You made to shove past the excitable Fae, but a clawed hand shot out before you were clear, gripping you sharply by the hair and wrenching you back against his chest. A hand rose before you to grip you by your cheeks, forcing you to watch the way your Huntsman violently trembled.

“Look, Y/N,” Douma’s cold, malicious voice hissed in your ear. “Watch as the beast slips his chains.”

You thrashed against his hold, but the Fae only chuckled, his icy, rancid breath sending violent chills down your skin. “Run, little girl,” he crooned. “Run to your Wolf, and see if he won’t tear you apart.” With a shove, Douma sent you stumbling forward. You obeyed his command, desperate to reach your mate as he shuddered under the strain of his curse.

“Sister, no!” Genya cried, but it was of no use; without hesitation you flung your arms around your mate’s rippling form, trying to still him.

“Sanemi, stop!” You cried. “Don’t do this — fight the curse —”

The Wolf’s claws had grown longer and sharper than you’d ever seen. You squeezed your eyes shut tight as Sanemi’s hands rose up on either side of you before his claws sunk deep into your biceps. Your breath wheezed out of you at the sharp pain exploding beneath where his nails were embedded into your flesh. Your stomach dropped at the unmistakable sensation of your blood running hot down your arms, but you still did not relent.

“Sanemi! Please!” You clung to him desperately, trying to force him to look at you, but it was useless. His eyes had gone a milky white, his fangs longer than you’d ever seen, saliva dripping from his mouth like that of a rabid animal. You hiked your arms higher around his trembling shoulders, trying to ignore the sting of his claws dragging along your skin so you could wrench his head down and press his face against your ruined mating mark. Perhaps if he could scent it, whatever remained of it, he would come back to himself — perhaps he wouldn’t let the beast within take control.

It wasn’t working. You shook him, desperate and frustrated. “It’s me — I have returned! I’m sorry— I’m so sorry I made you worry!” Tears welled in your eyes. “Please come back to me!”

Sanemi’s claws dug deeper into your arms, your blood staining your sleeves a deep crimson. “Gone,” he managed to snarl through the growls and choked sounds of his body undergoing the sinister shift to his cursed form. “She’s gone.”

Beneath that vicious growl was pain — raw and deep. It did not matter that you were standing right there before him; he could not see you, not when he’d begun to turn into a Werewolf without a mate.

“I’m here! I’m right here!” Tears rolled freely down your cheeks as you urged him to see, to know you once more. “I’m with you! Please, Sanemi, I love you – I’m begging you, please, please come back to me!”

He tried to push you from him, his claws retracting from where he’d buried them into your skin. “Gone!” he howled. “GONE.”

“Sanemi — NO!” You shrieked as he shoved you back, but it was not enough. The Huntsman exploded, fur and claws and teeth erupting from him as Sanemi fully let the Werewolf take him over.

There was a flash of something curved and sharp as it neared your face. Half a heartbeat later, there was nothing but pain; hot, agonizing, searing pain erupting down the side of your face, as you felt yourself being torn open.

Your scream reverberated through the Netherwood like a cannon blast. You dropped to the ground like a marionette doll whose strings had been cut, hands jumping to your face only to meet sticky, hot blood and ragged pieces of your torn flesh.You laid there, crumpled against the snow, broken hands pressed desperately to the left side of your face in an attempt to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t even assess the damage, as you had to throw yourself out of the way to avoid being caught in the jaws of the creature now lunging for Douma. As the flurry of white passed you, you caught glimpse of the beast’s crimson-soaked claw.

Soaked, with your blood. Sanemi’s claw had caught you right down the left side of your face as he’d transformed, ripping it wide open.

Genya screamed your name, but his anguish was lost under the howling, vicious snarls from the snapping Werewolf and the crazed, giddy peals of laughter from the demon fae.

It was hard to see, and you knew you couldn’t risk moving your hands from the flayed side of your face for fear of bleeding out all over the floor of the Wood. But your other eye also filled with blood that spilled over your nose from the marred side of your face, leaving you to blink rapidly in a desperate attempt to lock eyes on your mate as he battled.

Vaguely, you were able to see a white mass swiping and snapping its massive jaws at the giddy Fae. While you’d known Sanemi’s Wolf form was massive – larger than a horse – the Werewolf was at least two times the size of your mate when fully shifted. Each of its limbs were nearly as long as you were, and covered in thick, ropey muscle. Your vision clouded red once again and you rapidly blinked, wincing at the strain the movement made against your wound. It was getting difficult to hold your head up, the pain excruciating. A helpless cry sounded weakly from the back of your throat as you rolled over, putting your back to the savage confrontation that raged on.

A new set of snarls joined the fray, and distantly, you realized Genya must have joined the fight with his brother. Douma’s exalted peals of laughter melted into vicious snarls of his own as he fronted attacks from two opponents rather than one.

At least the young Wolf was able to do something. You’d never felt more useless than you did right then, curled pathetically against the snowy floor of the Netherwood, broken and bleeding out. But then a sudden yelp of pain tore from the fray, and you flipped over just in time to spot a mass of black fur – Genya – being sent flying back from the embattled Fae and Werewolf. Your feeble wail of despair went unanswered as Genya slammed against the base of a distant tree before thudding heavily to the forest floor. He did not move again.

Fucked; you were all fucked.

You clenched your jaw tight, clamping down on the frustrated sob building in your chest. How utterly pathetic you were, helpless to do anything but lay there in the Wood and die. Your mangled hand did little to staunch the blood spilling over your nose and your mouth, running in thick rivulets over the unharmed side of your face. The hot, coppery liquid dripped down to your opposite ear before it began to slide down your chin and throat. It would not be long before your blood would begin to pool beneath you. Bitterly, you mused how it would be just your luck that some other creature would creep out from the shadows, unable to resist the tempting smell of fresh blood and finish you off, as the demon fae and Werewolf continued their battle across the way.

Before you could fully resign to your fate as some beast’s evening meal —a fate you’d so assiduously tried to avoid before dooming not just yourself but your mate as well — a sudden burn at the juncture of your neck and shoulder erupted, sending hot flames of agony licking across your skin. You want to laugh at the relentless cruelty of your pain. It was not enough that, in the matter of two days, you had been beaten, slashed, and mauled beyond hope. No, the universe apparently thought it just to now turn your blood into flame that seared the skin where Sanemi’s mark had once been —

Your breath snagged violently in your throat. The mark.

By blood it is done, and by blood it is undone.

Your blood — fresh blood — had run and gathered right against the ruined crescent shaped mating mark that Douma had broken with his magic; magic that had used your blood to sever the link between you and Sanemi.

You coughed weakly, the blood bubbling between your lips as your skin burned hotter and hotter. But then you felt it — that familiar, honeyed warmth that began to trickle through your veins, filling in the ragged hole that had been left by the cessation in connection to your mate.

You wanted to call out to him — to Sanemi, but all that left you was a gurgled cry as the mating bond between you and the snarling Werewolf snapping at the demon fae in the distance reignited once more.

——

Everything was dark; cold. Sanemi felt as though he’d been submerged in a sea of frigid, black water that stretched endlessly around him.There was no end and no beginning to the void in which he’d plunged himself, and Sanemi couldn’t find it within himself to care; couldn’t feel much of anything, to be honest. There was no reason for him to fight; to live. The Werewolf was the manifestation of his rage — it would exact his revenge and then roam the earth without aim and without purpose, just as he deserved. He would remain there, curled into himself as he floated alone amidst the silent, dark expanse of his infinite despair. For there could be no light — no warmth — without her.

Time passed, though he did not know how much, nor did he care. He only burrowed deeper into the dark, content to ignore the distant echoes and snarls of the battle raging above the surface of this empty sea in which he drowned. Hopeless. Hopeless. It was all hopeless.

Despite the suffocating numbness of his black prison, Sanemi swore he could feel something pulling at him. He thought to ignore it, assuming it was nothing more than an echo of what once was, a phantom tug at a string tied to a future that would never be his.

And yet, the tugging grew stronger, the string tauter, demanding acknowledgment. He wanted to growl at it; to snap his teeth in warning, for he could not give it the attention it commanded. The Werewolf was in charge now, not him; the string could take it up with the beast above. Black water swelled up around him before exploding into flame, and Sanemi suddenly found himself in a sea of fire that set every nerve of his body alight. His eyelashes singed from the fire’s heat, but he could not close his eyes, could not turn away from the hot, rippling agony which now consumed him.

He shouldn’t have felt it — he hadn’t sensed any of the movements or strain of the Werewolf's battle the entire time it had blazed on, so there was no reason for him to feel such intense, blinding pain now. But he did. His traitorous heart lurched with a hope he desperately tried to stamp out; but then, above the flames roaring around him and licking at his skin, rose smoke scented with clove and juniper. The smell of home — a home he’d believed had been torn apart and devoured. The smell of her. The string at the back of his mind pulled tight, frantic and desperate, begging him to swim, to claw his way to the surface and fight. Fight for her — for himself. For them.

With a defiant roar, Sanemi tore into the inky, bottomless sea with his talons and fangs, clawing for it – for the beast. He met matted fur and began to rip fistfuls of it, ripping through flesh and sinew in great, vicious fistfuls that snarled and snapped its jaws at him. Sanemi laughed savagely as the beast bucked under the onslaught of his rage, each ruthless movement weakening the creature bit by bit.

A vicious claw ripped the darkness around him wide open, revealing a sliver of light, and trees, and the dull grayness of winter. Sanemi howled as he clambered for the opening, the beast snapping ferociously at his heels, desperate to drag him back into the dark pits of his own hell. But Sanemi did not relent; he kicked back, his foot meeting the solid mass of the beast with a sickening crunch, and the Werewolf fell away, and the Huntsman launched himself through the vale.

One moment Sanemi saw only the fire signifying his bond with his mate, and the next he was in the Netherwood, struggling against the iron-tight grip of the fae at his back, working to crush his neck with his brute force. Sanemi twisted and bucked in Douma’s sinewy arms. The brief moment of hesitation he’d had in retaking control over his own body had given the fae the opening he needed to wrench free from the hold of the Wolf’s jaws, trapping Sanemi in his own death grip as a result. The fae’s arms wound around his neck and squeezed with brutish force, twisting and jerking in an effort to crush him. Sanemi’s paws clawed uselessly at open air, unable to land any decisive blows that would give him even the slightest advantage.

It was over – it was over, and he’d failed, he’d lost, and Y/N, wherever she was, would be doomed as well once Douma finished him off –

The Fae’s death grip around Sanemi’s neck suddenly loosened as Douma began to scream in both fury and pain. Twisting away from the demon’s convulsing form, Sanemi watched as Genya, who’d launched himself from the line of trees at Douma’s back, sunk his teeth right into the fleshy juncture between the Fae’s neck and shoulder and tore one of his arms clean from his body. Before the disembodied limb could thud uselessly to the Wood’s snowy floor, Genya’s great maw closed around Douma’s newly vulnerable side and began tearing away chunks of his flesh in great, heaving mouthfuls.

Not ready to repeat his earlier mistake, Sanemi twisted quickly around and lunged for the Fae’s head. Before the demon’s howl of rage and anguish could finish cleaving the Netherwood into two, the white Wolf locked his jaws around the soft exposure of Douma’s neck and Sanemi ripped his throat wide open. Inky, black blood sprayed across the Wolf’s face and flooded his mouth with its filth. Sanemi paid little mind to the oily, rancid taste of the fae’s cursed blood as it slid down his throat and dripped from his maw. On and on he rampaged, turning the Fae into nothing more than a few nondescript piles of pulped flesh, each chunk of skin more indiscernible from the last as Douma’s carnage was strewn across the Netherwood.

Time dragged on, and while eventually Sanemi’s teeth stopped tearing at the Fae’s corpse, his claws did not. Every swipe of his paws was vicious and brutal, but even they began to dull as Sanemi continued to reduce what was left of the demon to a blood pile of rotten, shredded meat. The sharp, deadly curve of his claws gradually retreated, blunting and rounding out until his fingers and hands resembled that of a man’s, curled tight into a pair of fists that dealt alternating blow after blow into the gore that had once been the fae pinned below him. The shudder that rippled through him barely registered as Sanemi’s fur and teeth and claws gave way to scarred flesh and blood-soaked hair. The only thing on him that remained of the Wolf was its cold snarl which kept his lips curled back, his teeth, bared.

“Aniki,” his younger brother’s weak, tired voice broke through the hazy fury of his mind, but it was not enough to slow the rain of Sanemi’s fists against the shards of bone and scraps of flesh splattered across the snow. “Brother. Sanemi.” Genya’s human hand shakily reached to clasp Sanemi by the shoulder. “Brother, Y/N – s-she needs –”

A gasp tore free from the Huntsman’s throat, one bloodied, bruised fist halting midair as Sanemi’s full awareness returned to him. Y/N. His mate; his fiance. She was alive – she had to be. Otherwise, Sanemi wouldn’t have felt that string pulling him back to the bond; back to himself.

“Where,” Sanemi sat back on his haunches, chest heaving and arms shaking with exertion. “Where is she.”

The look of horror on Genya’s face nearly stopped his thundering heart cold. “Y-you don’t remember…?” His brother’s voice was drowned out by the sudden ringing in his ears as the wind howling through the Netherwood shifted. Suddenly, Sanemi became all too aware of the overpowering scent of iron clogging the air. Only this iron carried not the oily stench of the demon fae he’d helped reduce to pulp. No. This scent – this blood – was entirely too familiar; and entirely too close.

He spied paw prints – large, monstrous tracks trailing through the snow, leading right to where he and his brother had dueled with Douma. Sanemi felt leaden dread press down upon his lungs, threatening to choke him, as his eyes raked over scarlet-streaked slush, packed down into the distinct outline of his own cursed claw prints. His nostrils flared and everything within him turned to ice. There was no doubt to whom the blood belonged.

Sanemi looked up to his brother, his eyes wide and desperate. “What did I do?”

Genya’s face was the portrait of tortured devastation. Sanemi knew, as he watched his brother’s features crumple, that whatever had transpired in the time between him losing his humanity and the mating bond snapping back into place, was a hell entirely of his own making.

“What did I do?” He repeated, though whether the was pleading to his brother, to the Netherwood, or to the gods themselves, he could not say. “What did I do? What did I do?”

The panic built hot in his gut, and the Huntsman began to hyperventilate. She shouldn’t have been there; her blood shouldn’t have been smeared all over the snow, painting the winter landscape a violent crimson. But there was no mistaking it; as much as the Huntsman willed the opposite to be true, he could not change the fact that somehow, some way, this small clearing deep within the Netherwood had been coated with his mate’s blood.

And it had not been there before; not when he arrived. Not when he let the Werewolf exact his revenge.

Sanemi looked frantically around the wreckage of Wood, eyes wild as they scanned for any sign of her. There, about five meters ahead, he spotted her bloodied, unmoving form. A strangled howl of despair tore from his throat as he tried to rush for her, but Genya caught him sharply around the bicep. The boy’s face was tortured, and it only made Sanemi’s desperation increase tenfold. “Aniki — wait —“

Sanemi tore free of Genya’s grip with an anguished roar, stumbling over his legs in his haste to get to her, curled against the forest floor. He almost fell as he scrambled towards her, snow kicking up in a flurry of powder as he half ran, half-dragged himself to where she lay, limp and broken.

“Y/N!” His voice cracked, and his arms slid under her, pulling her across his lap and cradling her against his chest as he knelt in the snow. She whimpered, her hands still pressed tightly against the wounded half of her face, blood running thickly between the seams of her black and red stained fingers. Sanemi’s hands shook as they coveted hers. “Let me see,” he said hoarsely, pulling lightly. “Let me see it, Y/N.”

She did not pull her hands away entirely, instead choosing to lift them only a few millimeters; just enough that the water gray light of the winter sky should have trickled through the gaps between her fingers. But she moved them enough to reveal the oozing, bloody wound. Sanemi’s breath caught violently in his throat, and his heart stuttered to a halt in his chest. With wide-eyed and sickening dread Sanemi beheld the four, thick jagged lines of dark scarlet which had ripped his mate’s face open, shreds of her flesh hanging to the sides in blooded, torn scraps.

Where her eye should have been was nothing but a dark, gaping and bloodied hole.

At first, she seemed not to have realized the extent of what happened - of what he’d done. Her face contorted and with horror, Sanemi realized she was trying to blink, as though attempting to clear something that clouded her sight. Her right eye squinted and strained, darting wildly around until it settled on him, hunched over her.

The realization began settling over her as she tried to look to her left. “Genya?” His mate warbled, voice high. “Where are you?”

There was a beat of silence as Genya hesitated. “I’m over here, sister.”

On her left; but she could not see him. She could not see anything at all. Tears began to well in her right eye. “Sanemi,” her voice trembled with panic. “I can’t see – I c-can’t see.”

Sanemi was hyperventilating as he cradled her against his chest, her hand pressed tightly over her wounded eye as her blood seeped through her fingers.“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he said desperately, trying to tug her hand away. “It’ll heal — it has to heal.” He rocked with her against him in an effort to calm them both, his lips pressed hard against her forehead. “I’ll make it better – I promise, I will make it all better.”

Sanemi awkwardly bent his face towards her, slanting his mouth over hers. He tried to ignore the overwhelming taste of her blood as it ran over his lips, focusing instead on pushing his saliva into her mouth. “Swallow it,” he begged when he pulled away. A sob only bubbled up in her throat, and it made Sanemi’s grip on her tighten. A hand worked its way to her neck, his fingers gently massaging the sides of her throat, trying to work it open. “You have to swallow it, Y/N,” he croaked, struggling to blink away the tears clouding his vision. “You have to let me fix you.”

“Brother — we need to take her to Kocho —“

“I can fix it,” Sanemi chanted again and again. “I can fix it, I can fix her.”

“Sanemi,” the sound of his given name falling from his little brother’s mouth made him freeze. “Please, brother — she needs a doctor.”

He knew his brother was right; she’d lost far too much blood already, and his saliva didn’t seem to have any impact on healing the thick, jagged lines that curved down her face. Sanemi blanched the longer he studied her wounds — wounds he inflicted — and realized he could see the faintest trace of white beneath the flayed skin of her cheek.

Bone. He’d clawed her to the bone.

“…Let me carry you,” Sanemi’s head snapped back to meet his brother’s petrified yet determined stare.

“What?”

“Let me shift and carry you,” Genya repeated. “I can run faster, Aniki — and I don’t think — I don’t think —“ The younger Shinazugawa gulped. “I don’t think Y/N can hold herself up on your back.”

Sanemi clutched his mate tighter against him and nodded, not trusting his ability to speak without croaking. He knew his brother was right; but Sanemi also didn’t think he could stomach letting her go, even if it was to carry her home – to safety and to help. “Your tunic,” the Huntsman rasped. “Do you still have it?”

The younger Shinazugawa nodded and quickly limped toward the distant tree line where he’d shifted, a hand clutching at his side. Genya returned, the linen balled in his fists, and handed it to his brother. Sanemi quickly wrapped the cloth around his mate’s head, cooing softly at her as he coaxed her bloodied hands away from their fierce hold against her wound. He finally secured the makeshift bandage over the shredded half of her face and turned to his brother.

Genya shifted forms and crouched low in wait. Sanemi lifted Y/N in his arms, clutching herclose as he straddled his brother’s back, one arm remaining under her legs, the other bracing her back, his hand clutching tightly around bloody arm. Once settled, Genya launched into a full sprint through the Wood, darting between gnarled trees and thick brush in his haste to get them back to the den — to Shinobu. Sanemi chanced a glance down at his fiance and his stomach dropped. Beneath the angry, dark red stains of her blood drying on her skin, she’d turned sallow; ashen.

Sanemi pressed her tighter to him, his lips glued to her forehead.“I’m sorry.” He murmured against her cool, clammy skin, tears rolling freely down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinkmas 2023 #kimestu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #monster fucker #werewolf fucker #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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angelicdanvers · 4 months

Text

BRACELETS | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname

taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3

sixteen.

it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.

she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.

she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?

the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips.

glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted.

they all seemed to be in glee.

snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.

“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.

all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.

y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.

she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.

“hey, y/n?”

the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.

“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile.

luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“

“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.

“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.

“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”

luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”

“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”

“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.

a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”

exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!”

the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.

she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.

luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.

and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.

the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.

throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.

luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.

subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.

he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.

“may i call my dad?”

“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office.

the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.

“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”

she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank.

“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.

stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore.

luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.

“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”

y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”

“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”

y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”

“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”

his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”

y/n was not expecting that.

“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.

she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same.

together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.

somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.

“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”

“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.

y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”

luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”

y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”

his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”

the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.

after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.

luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”

y/n laughed. luke froze.

he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.

“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”

the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.

even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.

“hey, y/n?”

“yes, luke?”

“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”

now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.

“but, i’m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.

“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”

y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”

luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.

“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”

luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.

their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #charlie bushnell #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo x you #charlie bushnell x reader

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serpentandlily · 5 months

Text

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

────────────

“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort.

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these.

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost.

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame.

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family.

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well.

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.”

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs.

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother.

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble.

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body.

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.”

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.”

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs.

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings.

Both felt so violating.

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on?

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds.

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him.

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled.

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.”

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?”

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say.

Nothing left to say at all.

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love.

You were just simply not enough.

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room.

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of.

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.”

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this.

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.”

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display.

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing.

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.”

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.”

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.”

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.”

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.”

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.”

“So what happens now?” Mor asked.

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all.

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.”

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?”

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.”

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body.

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.”

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes.

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.”

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.”

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday.

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed.

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?”

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close.

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.”

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.”

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up.

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much.

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured.

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears.

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.”

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.”

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight.

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?”

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.”

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking.

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.”

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again.

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady.

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence.

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him.

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.”

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.”

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good.

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion.

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation.

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.”

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.”

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.”

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?”

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her.

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed.

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.”

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order.

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.”

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.”

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.”

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.”

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.”

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.”

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.”

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.”

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.”

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.”

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.”

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.”

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger.

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.”

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.”

Elain fell back in her chair, crying.

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?”

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.”

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again.

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel.

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could.

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.”

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian.

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you.

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.”

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger.

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away.

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed.

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!”

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!”

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics.

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth.

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best.

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch.

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!”

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!”

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another.

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?”

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further.

“Yes,” Lucien nodded.

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously.

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back.

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing.

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings.

“What are we doing here?”

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked.

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year.

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.”

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?”

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him.

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.”

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.”

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.”

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head.

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian.

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky.

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky.

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again.

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were.

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another.

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up.

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person.

That girl from a year ago?

Well, you were finally going to let her die.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you.

But now…now it just looked like a rock.

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea.

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!”

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath.

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.”

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning.

#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #angst with a happy ending

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angelsworks · 8 months

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A Scarab Knows Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle) x reader

Summary: Times when the scarab on your boyfriends back caught you in a lie.

Warnings: Smut, angst, insecure!reader, talks of period, 18+

Moodboard credit goes to @your-yandere-kiss They’ve got so many other great moodboards. I’d definitely recommend you check them out if you like that sort of thing.

DC Masterlist

It took a while to get used to the scarab. Khaji Da was not what you were expecting Jaime to reveal after a couple of months of dating. Your boyfriend was so nervous as he explained the ancient alien that held the power of the blue beetle that had bonded to his back. At first you had no response. Then you wanted to see it to which Jaime happily obliged.

Your eyes found the shiny blue shell of the beetle in line with Jamie’s shoulder blades. Call it morbid curiosity that lead you to reaching out and gently tracing part of the scarab. When red eyes opened and glowed along the scarabs elytra in response you jumped back in surprise. The action causing Jaime to jump up and away from you.

He didn’t say anything, instead staring almost blankly at something behind you. An action you’d found him doing throughout your relationship. Only now did you realise it was because of Khaji Da.

Finally he spoke, “I think it likes you.”

From then on things got better with Jamie. There were no secrets between the two of you anymore and you could continue your relationship in peace. Well almost in peace. The scarab on his back was to blame for that.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Khaji Da, it’s just that it was almost like another person you had to share your boyfriend with. A person that was with him all the time. A person that he has secret talks with. A person that he fought crime with.

You weren’t jealous. Jaime was yours and Khaji Da had no interest in him like that. It was just hard getting used to being in a relationship with Jaime and now Khaji Da. After telling you about his scarab Jaime could talk to it more openly, without you thinking he was strange. Sometimes you’d be with Jaime watching a movie and he’d answer a question you hadn’t asked. Or other times you’d be looking for something you’d lost and he’d blurt out it’s location, claiming Khaji Da had told him.

Khaji Da wasn’t all bad, in fact it treated you kindly and as a valued person to Jaime. Over time it too became protective like Jaime towards you. A gesture you found sweet. Well mostly sweet.

One evening you saw the positives to the scarab on your boyfriends back.

The day you’d had was one for the history books. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. This morning you overslept for class meaning you had to rush out the door. In class you realised you left your paper you’d been working on at your home. After class you went to your job at a local restaurant. A job that on a good day would wear you down and drain your social skills. But on a bad day? It was unimaginable. To add to it you started your period mid shift, unprepared of course.

Finally at the end of the day you remembered the plans you had to stay over at your boyfriends apartment. Despite feeling anything but happy, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed your tears back as you greeted him. You hugged him tightly and kept up your facade. Engaging in small talk about your day and your class. Purposely leaving out or brushing over the majority of bad bits.

Jaime was buying the facade of course and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you hadn’t been dating for long and he hadn’t learnt you yet. However Khaji Da had, or to some extent it had.

A quick body scan had revealed your true feelings. Your low mood, recently working tear ducts and uterus walls cramping. All of which was relayed to Jaime whose face quickly took to looking crestfallen.

“Mi Vida, why would you lie to me?” Jaime asks softly. Pulling you from beside him on the couch to his lap.

You look at him startled. Unable to form words or even think of a coherent answer. But he waits for one. Even though it takes a few beats of silence.

“What - how do you know?” You ask him perplexed.

His tongue swipes out over his lips, “Khaji Da scans almost everyone I meet. It makes a habit of scanning you especially.”

You nod slowly, letting the new information sink in. You wonder just how much Khaji Da knows about you. You wonder how much information it passed on to Jaime each time you met. Was this the first time it caught you out in a lie, or just the first time Jaime chose to bring it up.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my bad day Jaime. You seemed so happy. I just wanted to enjoy being with you today.”

Jaime sighed and held you impossibly closer. Rubbing your back as you let out a few tears.

“Nothing you tell me would burden me. I love you so much Cielo.” Jaime whispers in your ear.

“Cielo?” You ask, unsure of the endearment.

“It means sky or heaven. That’s what you are to me. Nothing my Cielo tells me burdens me. You are my world, Mi Vida.”

Although Khaji Da’s interference worked out this time, it didn’t always. One time in particular didn’t end well with Jaime.

It was just past nine when your eyes glanced over to the clock on the bedside lamp. Jaime had been pounding into you for what felt like hours. He’d been out all evening doing something for Kord industries. The topic a sore one as you knew of the previous feelings he felt for Jenny.

You tried to put your feelings aside and remember that Jaime was with you now, not her. Your efforts hadn’t been good enough as Khaji Da and Jaime had seen right through it. Leaving him no choice but to show you just how much he loved you.

Yet the hurried passion between you hadn’t given you the stimulation you needed to reach your climax even once. There was little foreplay and things unraveled and quickly lead to him being deep inside you.

At one point you’d moved your fingers to your clit, trying to gain something to take you over the edge. Jaime, thinking you were acting up as you often did with him (in dynamic of course) removed your hand and pinned it with your other above your head. He gave you a gentle kiss and whispered some dirty words in your ear.

“Are you close?” He panted, still hammering into you. You thought about saying no, then wondered what he would think. You started to feel insecure in the fact that your orgasm was taking so long. So you decided to pretend.

It wasn’t something you’d ever had to do before but once wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You moaned out a reply and started your act. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, praising your partner for his work, clenching your walls on his cock. It wasn’t long before he followed you. Stilling inside you before reaching his own.

After pulling out slowly and kissing your temple he rolled over, having a moment before getting a wash cloth for you.

Silence hung in the air. Comfortable silence of course, but silence non the less. Jamie’s hand found yours, holding it gently as he often did.

Some time passed before his grip changed and became tighter. He turned on his side and looked at you accusingly.

“You faked it?” He asked, a little hurt but mostly angry.

Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heating up. “Jaime it’s not like that, you know I wouldn’t - ”

“But you did, or else Khaji Da wouldn’t have brought it up.”

You let out a huff, “Why does it matter. I’m sure it happens to plenty of couples all the time. I’m fine. Your fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You move to roll over only to be pulled back by an angry Jaime. You’d never seen him this annoyed before about something you’d done. Usually you couldn’t put a foot wrong with him. He thought everything about you was great. It would be a lie to say his anger didn’t make you guilty about being dishonest.

“It matters because your my girlfriend. We aren’t just another couple. And while I’ve got working fingers, a working tongue and a working cock I have no excuse not to make you cum.” He tells you in earnest, putting his anger aside for a minute.

Although the sentiment is there, his wording isn’t. Jamie’s right, everything about him works. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to make you cum. It’s you that’s the problem and that same insecurity creeps back in once more. Making you doubt if there was something wrong with you. Making you remember why you lied in the first place. You didn’t want him to think less of you.

“So why Mi Vida, why lie to me? You know I love you.”

You huff again but this time it’s more pitiful as you feel your throat tightening. “It’s not you Jaime, it was me. It just wasn’t happening. I don’t know if I needed more foreplay or something. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong. Please let’s just go to sleep.” You practically beg. The warmth in your face ever increasing from the embarrassment you now feel.

As he understands your words he feels his anger dissipate. “There is nothing wrong with you Cielo, I should have done more before you know, going inside you. It was rushed. But you need to know that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I love making you cum.”

You smile, leaning over to kiss Jaime. Who responded eagerly almost trying to make up for lost time. Showing you that there was nothing wrong with you at all.

“Let me show you how much I love doing it Mi Vida.”

You could only nod as your boyfriend spent the rest of the night doing everything he could to make you cum.

By the time he’d done you’d finished a record number of times and had forgotten any ill will you’d felt towards Khaji Da. It turned out to be quite useful.

#angelsworks post #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader #jaime reyes #Jaime Reyes x reader #khaji da

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queenariesofnarnia · 3 months

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sleepover secrets

gif not mine!

wc: 654

alastor x f!reader

🦌❤️

“You’re crazy as hell toots” Angel howls with laughter before tossing popcorn in his mouth.

“Shut up! I can’t be the only person who finds the full on demon form totally fuckable” you try and defend yourself.

“The only one who would say it out loud for sure” he informs you leaning against you as Fat Nuggets settles between you both.

“I would never have the guts to tell him. I may be crazy but I enjoy not being double dead Ang.” giving Fat Nuggets attention as you turn back your the movie he chose. A few moments of silence pass before Angel speaks again,

“Definitely a size kink thing right?” you couldn’t help but snort.

“Definitely” you agree, unbeknownst to you a little eavesdropping shadow heard your spilled secrets. Going back to tell his master the news. The radio demon’s grin growing in curiosity. As the night grew on and more secrets were spilled the little shadow remained unseen gathering more to share with his master until you and Angel turned in for the night. The bottle you’ve been sharing forgotten on the nightstand.

✨the next day✨

As morning hit Angel and you roll out of bed in pajamas trudging down stairs for breakfast. Greeting everyone, you sit next to Alastor who has your morning coffee in his hand. You thank him loud enough for him to hear before settling into your seat enjoying your coffee. Charlie suggested a group bonding activity, even pleading with Alastor to join. Everyone paired off into twos and just your luck of course you have him as your partner.

“Okay everyone, ask your partner a question that you think would help to get to know them deeper!” Charlie optimistically instructed.

“Ladies first dear” his always present grin seemed to sparkle with mischief today.

“What drew you to radio hosting?” your question seemed to surprise him.

“Well my dear, I believe this voice deserves to be broadcasted everywhere.” he answers, before pretending to think about what to ask you. “What do you think about my full form dear?” you shift in your seat at the question. There’s no way he could’ve heard you. Thinking of how to avoid the question.

“I think it suits you. It definitely shows you’re not one to be fucked with” you answer looking away from him. His clawed fingers grab your face making you face him. You see Angel behind him with a shit eating grin looking at you.

“It is quite rude not to look at someone while speaking to them my dear” his tone left you too stunned to speak. Dropping his hand from your face, you shoot up from your seat dismissing yourself from the group apologizing. Making it to your room in record time lying face down on your bed.

“I’m never showing my face again” you mumble into your pillow.

“Now that would be unfortunate dear” Alastor’s voice startled you as me appears in your bed.

Startling you, before you could fall to the floor his shadow pushed you back up.

“If I could have a heart attack still, I’d be dead” you huffed holding your chest.

“You didn’t answer my question honestly dear” he said repeating his previous actions to get you to look at him.

“You know the answer don’t you?” you ask doing your best to keep eye contact. “You do know it’s not right to eavesdrop on secrets shared at sleepovers Al” you give him the best serious look you can muster.

“Whenever you want to see my full form again just ask cher” he said releasing your face before disappearing back into his shadow. Leaving you flustered. His laugh echos from the radio in your room, shaking your head with a small smile on your face.

“You’re too much Al” you said softly but loud enough for him to pick up.

“Don’t speak too soon dear” he replied before your radio turned off.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon #hazbin hotel

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empress-simps · 11 days

Text

Foolish Heart

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader CW: James being oblivious to reader’s feelings, Sirius teasing, and as always- language. (1.7k words) Summary: You’ve had the biggest crush on James ever since you can remember, so imagine how hard it is to see your best friend since diapers pine over Lily Evans. The other Marauders decided to make James realize who he truly likes all along.

Note: I was listening to Hozier’s (my love) “Almost (Sweet Music)” When I suddenly thought of this idea randomly, soooooo yeah, enjoy! My updates might be slower now since I have school, but my requests/asks are still open if anyone wants to talk to me! I'd still be active on Tumblr : )

Be still, my foolish heart. Don’t ruin this on me.

It was your mantra, every time you saw James. Everything he did was perfect in your eyes; the way he hummed, eyes twinkling as he thought of a plan on how to execute their pranks, down to the way he laughed. It was heavenly, dancing around the air, lingering- as if a beautiful melody waiting to be heard by you.

And yet, you were a silent audience, watching from a far distance as he basks in the glow of Lily Evans.

Lily. The name itself was a symphony, a haunting refrain that echoed in the back of your mind. She was everything you weren’t, couldn’t be—confident, radiant, and effortlessly captivating. Her hair, a cascade of fiery red, framed her face like a halo. And James? Well, he was her devoted troubadour, strumming his heartstrings to the rhythm of her laughter.

He was hypnotized by Lily’s glow; and you were fixed on his warmth. His laughter was like sunlight filtering through leaves, warming the coldest corners of your aching and bitter heart. You wondered if he knew the ache of unrequited love—the way it makes you feel like you’re drowning in heartache, making you gasp for air.

You’d known James since you were in nappies, a strong bond forming from cheeky smiles, little adventures, empty promises, bruised knees, and grass-stained bottoms. Childhood friends; both of you are inseparable. But, unknowingly to the bespectacled boy, you slowly saw him in a different light, making you crave more about what your current relationship with him is.

James was the sun, and you were the moon—forever caught in his orbit, but never close enough to touch.

You watched as he stumbled over his words, trying to impress Lily with Quidditch tales and his pranks. And you? You were the silent observer, scribbling poems in the margins of your potions textbook.

As you settled in your usual seat next to James in the great hall, Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint evident in his eyes. “Sit beside me, pretty girl!” He pulled you next to him, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he grabbed an apple and handed it to you. “Good morning to you too, Paddie.” You rolled your eyes playfully, obliging and sitting next to the long-haired boy and grabbing your favorite fruit from his grasp.

Remus, the ever observant one out of the group knowingly looks at Sirius as if to say, ‘I know what you’re doing’. Peter only mumbled a ‘good morning’ before going back to shoving his breakfast in his mouth, blissfully unaware of the brewing tension.

James frowned; he didn’t like the change. Not. One. Bit.

This was new- you not sitting beside him? Can someone pinch him right now since the sod thinks he might be dreaming.

James kept his mouth shut, although he couldn’t help but glance every now and then at you and Sirius chatting across the table, sporting a frown as he stabbed the eggs with a rather excessive force before showing the food on his mouth. Of course, his actions didn’t go unnoticed in the eyes of Sirius Black.

“Something wrong, Prongs?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face as he leaned in. Never once did James think he would like to see Sirius’ smirk wiped off his face.

“Y/n sits beside me.” His jaw clenched.

You tried your best to act nonchalantly, fighting off the blush forming in your cheeks as you felt the all too familiar butterflies in your stomach.

Ah, the heartache in those words—the unspoken longing. Remus had seen it before, masked behind his bravado. James Potter, the mischief-maker, the Quidditch star, the one who chased after Lily Evans with unwavering determination. But the werewolf knew better. He saw the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. The way his laughter softened when you were near. The way he defended you even when you didn’t need defending.

“So? Make Red sit beside you or something.” Sirius raised a brow. You looked at Sirius with a confused look on your face, just what was up with him today?

Red. Lily Evans. The one who James practically confesses his undying love for every week. You know damn well you were not Red, and that you will never be Red.

You were Y/n- the one who held his hand when he was scared of the dark, who followed him on little adventures throughout Potter Manor when you were kids, and the one who exchanged secrets with him with hushed whispers under the moonlit skies.

But being the sod he is, he did. He had hurt you again without even knowing as he invited Lily next to him.

It went on for several weeks, each passing day hurt more than the last. It seemed like he was slowly becoming out of your reach, but Sirius was there, offering you support, and secretly trying to make James realize that he’d been hopelessly in love with you ever since the beginning of time.

The unspoken tension between you grew thicker. Sirius and the others watched, amused and exasperated. Remus, the wise one, shared knowing glances with you. Peter, ever loyal, tried to be mediator between James’s heart and his head.

Then it finally happened, James couldn’t handle it anymore. He cracked.

You were the fresh air he takes in, the anchor that keeps him still, a constant presence in his life. James Potter knew it would hurt if you weren’t by his side, but Merlin- he didn’t know it would hurt this much. He wants you- he needs you.

One stormy night in the Gryffindor Common room was the time he decided to tell you what’s going on in his mind. It was the perfect timing, really. Only him, you and the other Marauders were present in the room, the other students already headed to the dorms, as it was almost curfew.

James sighed, finally standing, and walking towards your direction, his eyes were vulnerable. “Y/n,” he began, voice trembling as he stumbles over his words. “I’ve been an idiot.”

You hummed in agreement, trying to look busy as you reread the last sentence over and over in the page of your book, “That’s not new, Potter.”

“Lily—she’s not the one I want. It’s always been you.”

It felt like the whole world stopped, the fire that was roaring suddenly stilled, your friends sat silently, frozen in shock. All you can hear is your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

James’ gaze bore into yours, his eyes searching for a response. His hand trembled where it reached for yours, holding it tightly, fearing you'd pull away from his touch.

“James, what? If this is some kind of ploy to play with me-“

“Y/n,” he said, his voice raw, “I’ve loved you since we were kids. I was a bloody fool to deny it every time I see you."

“James,” you whispered, your throat tight, “what about Lily?”

He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he chuckled lightly "Evans had noticed it even before I did. Said I was a knobhead for not realizing sooner." he said.

James’s gaze softened. “You’re the girl who followed me on little adventures, who defended me during Quidditch matches, who knows my deepest fears and silliest dreams. I was fucking terrified to ruin our friendship just because I saw you more than my best friend.”

Biting your lip, you felt the all-too-familiar tears pricking your eyes. His confession made your insides warm, fuzzy, and light. You never told him how you truly felt- keeping it to yourself as you watched him chase after Lily, being supportive of him even though it kills you inside. You could deal with that; you’d be happy as long as James would be happy. Even if it’s with Lily.

Although, he was here, in front of you. Telling you that he also loves you, that he hadn’t realized it until years after.

“James, you were never just a best friend to me.” You whispered, “I was scared- terrified that you would never see me in the way that I saw you. I didn’t tell you because I would rather love you in the sidelines rather than lose you altogether.”

James’ eyes softened, he leaned closer to you; his forehead touching yours, his breath fanning your lips as he smiled softly. “I wouldn’t let you do that now, you’d be in the center of my life, where you belong.”

He placed his hand gently on your back, pulling you closer to him. “Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We already did that for most of our years already.” James didn’t wait for you to reply when he leaned down and kissed you, cupping your face gently.

Neither of you heard your friends cheering, the fire crackling, or the rain tapping out your window.

In that moment, it felt as if you and James were the only ones in the world, you were in your own little bubble of happiness. Both of you had foolish hearts, and it had finally found each other after years and years of looking.

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james x reader #james potter #james potter x y/n #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders fic #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 22 days

Text

American Psycho Killer

Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.

Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.

A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3

“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!

Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.

Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.

What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.

His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.

He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.

Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.

When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?

He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.

Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.

But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.

Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.

He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.

Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.

The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?

He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.

So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.

The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.

He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.

He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.

Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.

So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.

Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.

He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.

After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.

And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.

Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.

He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.

There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.

He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.

Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.

He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.

Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.

With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.

A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.

You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.

“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.

You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.

As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.

Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.

As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.

Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.

You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.

The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.

This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.

He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.

He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.

He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.

So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.

“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.

You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.

“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.

“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.

Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.

You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.

Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.

Just for him.

That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.

His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.

His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.

He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.

You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.

And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.

He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.

He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.

He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.

When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.

Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.

Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.

Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.

Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?

Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.

The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.

It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.

It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.

Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.

Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.

The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.

In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.

You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”

You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”

He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.

You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”

He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.

He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.

“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.

He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.

One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.

He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.

You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.

Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.

“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.

Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.

He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.

His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.

You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.

He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.

For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.

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sunny44 · 1 month

Text

Meeting Hazel

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wife&mom!reader

Warnings: hospital, mentions of birth

Summary: Y/n and Charles welcome their second born.

Finally, the hustle and bustle of the hospital had subsided. After hours of labor, I finally held our little Hazel in my arms. Her angelic face, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, seemed too perfect to be real. I looked at Charles, my husband, who smiled radiantly beside me, his eyes shining with pure admiration and love.

“You did an amazing job, amour.” he murmured, kissing my forehead tenderly. “She’s perfect.”

I smiled, tears of happiness streaming down my face.

“Thank you, Charles. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He smiled. “Literally couldn’t.”

“Very funny.” He gently brushed my forehead. “She’s perfect.”

“She is.” I smiled, looking at her. “But it’s the second time I get pregnant and the second time they look just like you.”

“What can I say, I’m very good at what I do.” He held my hand delicately, his fingers intertwining with mine.

“I’ll always be by your side, Y/n. And now we have our little family complete.”

As we got lost in the emotion of being parents again, a kind nurse gently reminded us that it was time for Charles to go home, take a shower, and rest a bit. He nodded, reluctant to leave our side, but knowing he needed a moment to recharge. But before leaving, he promised to bring Harvé, our three-year-old son, to meet his baby sister.

It was already night, and Charles waited for me to take a shower because I didn’t want to leave her with anyone else, so the nurses helped me in the shower, and after I got out, he said goodbye and left, promising that he and Harvé would be here first thing in the morning.

I went to breastfeed her and held Hazel in my arms, admiring every detail of her little face. She was so small and fragile, and she looked just like Charles.

I was almost certain that she would at least resemble me a little bit, but no, she was his spitting image, just like Harvé is.

Even their eye color was the same.

…

When Charles returned the next morning with Harvé, my heart filled with joy at seeing them walk through the door. Harve ran up to me, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Mommy! I came to meet Hazel!” he said, trying to climb onto the bed, and Charles lifted him and put him there.

“Be careful buddy. Don’t hug mommy too hard.” He agrees and lies down next to me and hugs me.

I hugged him affectionately, feeling tears welling up in my eyes again.

“She’s here, Harvé. Do you want to meet her?”

He nodded eagerly, his curious eyes fixed on little Hazel in my arms. Charles approached, smiling proudly.

“Harvé, this is your little sister, Hazel.”

he said, holding Harve in his lap so he could see better. “And Hazel, this is your big brother Harvé.”

Harvé looked at Hazel with admiration, his expression softening as he looked at her little face.

“She’s so tiny, daddy.” he observed, gently touching Hazel’s hand. “Does she knows k have Grand-père?”

“You can tell her later when se wakes up.” He nodded.

I smiled, watching the instant bond forming between them.

“Do you want to hold her, Harvé?” I asked, carefully offering Hazel to him.

He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with excitement. Carefully, he held Hazel in his arms, his expression one of pure happiness. I obviously supported her weight, she was just lying in his arms.

“Hello, Hazel.” he said softly, stroking her face with his finger. “I’m your big brother, Harvé. I’ll always protect you.”

My heart melted at Harvé’s kind words. He was so sweet and gentle, so ready to love his little sister from the moment we told him I was pregnant. I knew they would have a special bond that would last forever.

As he held Hazel carefully, he suddenly remembered something and asked to get off the bed and ran out of the room. He returned shortly after, holding a small stuffed animal in his hands.

“I brought this for you, Hazel.” he said, handing the stuffed animal that Carlos gave him when he was born and he’s giving to his little sister. “It’s my favorite bear, uncle Carlos gave it to me. I hope you like it as much as I do.”

I smiled, touched by the look of pure happiness in Harvé’s eyes as he gifted Hazel.

“Oh sweetheart, thank you so much and I’m sure she’ll love it.” I said, holding his hand gratefully. “And I also gonna help her sleep like it did to you.”

Harvé smiled widely, his eyes shining with joy.

“I love you, mommy. I love you, daddy. I love you, Hazel.” he said, looking at each of us with love and tenderness.

We hugged him affectionately, feeling the love and gratitude flooding our hearts. I knew that from that moment on, our family would be united forever, facing life’s challenges together and celebrating its joys.

As I watched Charles hold Hazel in his arms, Harvé beside him with his stuffed bear, I felt complete. The journey to this point had been long and challenging, but now, with our little family by my side, I knew it had all been worth it. And as I held Charles’s hand and watched our children together, I knew I couldn’t ask for anything more in life.

Bonus scene!

Y/nleclerc instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc, @maxverstappen, @yourmom and others 293729

Y/nleclerc These past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster, Charles and I welcomed our daughter into the world and we couldn't be happier. Thank you to all our friends, family, and even fans who have given us so much support during this time.

Charles, myself, Harvé and little Hazel are incredibly grateful for everything.

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lundenloves · 8 months

Text

{✧} 500 wc | no warnings

taglist | masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info

Simon Riley who swore to never have kids, then was surrounded by three. Two oldest fighting and waking up the baby in his arms, earning a wild cry and two sheepish apologies.

Simon Riley who was unable to bond with his children, not until after they had approached him for their missed love. An unsure hand pushed hair from their faces and a kiss to their temples, soft touch forever being a weakness.

Simon Riley who had to leave for deployment and his youngest couldn’t understand just why he was leaving. She cried and whined, stuck to his camo clad leg at the door. “Dad has to go.” Was his attempt at consolation, picking her up and pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll be back lovie, before you know it.” He couldn’t stop his leg from anxiously bouncing for a week after that.

Simon Riley who secretly hoped to never make it back home after the scarring of previous deployments. He’d hoped to be shot square in the chest, with no chance of resuscitation. Because sometimes, just sometimes, the weight of his own emotional burden was too much to carry.

Simon Riley who often dreaded coming home and having to take off the mask. The riddance of his failsafe ‘Ghost’ was like having the sheet pulled, entirely accountable for his actions (or lack thereof) and it was hard to hack.

Simon Riley who couldn’t speak to his family for a day after being home. The urge to isolate so overcoming that he would either leave the house entirely or lie in bed for days. ‘Dad isn’t well’ was what the kids were told nearly every time, until they were old enough to see through it.

Simon Riley whose jaw tightened at his daughter's fluoxetine on the counter. A mental spiral he had sent himself down, assuming it was entirely his fault she had been prescribed such medicine with his failings as a father.

Simon Riley who was called upstairs to deal with spiders and such. Picking them up and taking them outside with ease, providing the largest amount of relief to his kids that he never did quite understand although reveled in.

Simon Riley who had formed a bond with his middle child by collecting a note of cash from whichever country his deployment saw him in. She had hit most middle eastern countries, all strung up on a pinboard above her desk with a skull sticker beside. It was one of the few times a genuine smile stretched his balaclava, tucking the note gently into his tac vest with practice.

Simon Riley who would never admit it but felt a pang in his chest on the night of his eldest daughter's first breakup. The faint stubble on his cheek dashed with few grey hairs, skin scarred, back sore and giving unwanted but secretly appreciated advice.

this wasn’t supposed to be depressing but i know nothing else apparently. it’s bittersweet. leave me alone. it’s unedited and chucked out, sigh.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always, comments are reblogs are hugely appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

#simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw fanfiction #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley headcanons #dad!simon #simon ghost riley headcanons #cod headcanons

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imababblekat · 1 year

Text

TmnT Boy’s Meeting Aprils New Roomie; HC’s

Anon Request, “Can I request the bayverse turtles reactions to meeting april's new roomate who is a really a short s/o (like 5 ft) that has a tired and chill personality (has the same kind of personality as aizawa and shinso from mha) and instead of freaking out when they see the turtles they just say "hey" nonchalantly then go back to what they're doing? (You don't need to do this I just think it would be funny)”

~xXx~

Michelangelo:

Mikey had barged his way into Aprils apartment to excitedly talk about the latest episode of their favorite TV drama when he stumbled upon you

April was there with you, equal panic on her face as the orange clad turtle waited for the inevitable screaming or a similar panicked reaction

Your lack of shock left Mikey curious about you; all you had given him was a tired “sup” with a head tilt up and continuing your conversation like seeing a mutant ninja turtle breaking into your apartment was the most normal of things

His brothers wouldn’t have believed him if not for April being witness to the ordeal and are left as equally surprised by your lack of reaction when they ultimately come to meet you

Doesn’t take long for Mikey to practically glue himself to your side; it’s like the golden retriever boy trope

Loves the fact you’re so short; doesn’t out right tease you because he knows what it’s like to be the smallest, but he won’t hesitate to pick you up and throw you on his shoulders to get something from a high place

Donatello:

His mind is so deep in explaining what he figured out what was wrong with Aprils watch, that he hadn’t picked up on her panicked face till he’d heard the once vacant room in her apartment creak open

Your lack of noticing him at all, which was odd considering he was a literal giant in comparison to your much shorter stature, and making way to grab some water before retreating back to your room had Donnie wonder for a second if he was really that good of a ninja

But after questioning April the next day about whether or not you truly did notice him, it turns out he in fact wasn’t as invisible as he felt, when his friend informed him that you did actually see him that night

Ultimately, he had to introduce himself and his brothers to make sure you wouldn’t go talking about them to the wrong person, but at your simple nod and “okay” while absentmindedly texting on your phone at the end of their empty threat introduction, Donnie was even more confused than he had been the first night

Your nonchalant behavior had left his overthinking brain wondering why you reacted so differently compared to others

It didn’t make any logical sense to him, especially after no indications that you were going through some kind of weird shock symptom

His time spent trying to understand why you didn’t freak out on him that night turns into a lot of time bonding and forming a friendship he also never calculated to be possible, not that he minded of course; your chill personality was a nice contrast to the chaotic energies of his brothers when needed

Raphael:

He had been asked by Donnie while on a solo patrol to grab something from April, so when he’d stepped through her window he did not expect to see another person there with her

Your lack of a fear struck response leaves him frustratingly confused afterwards

Poor Raph is so used to people screaming or even fainting at the sight of him, that when all you did was wave a simple high and continue watching your Netflix show, he couldn’t help the suspicion he held towards you

Due to his skeptical feeling towards you however, he ends up spending a lot of time around you, and even though it does take some time, your unconcerned attitude towards, well, all of him, eventually has his walls crumbling around you

You make him feel normal, like he’s not some freak of nature; you don’t even flinch when his anger gets the best of him, instead waiting for him to calm some before offering some comfort

As Raph finds himself more lax with you, he opens up quite a bit and finds a friendship he didn’t know he desperately craved

But he’ll never tell you that, not at first at least, and instead just teases you and calls you shorty and time you tease him about how sweet he’s being

Leonardo:

Leo is definitely the most guarded when meeting new people, and your unbothered nature towards him when he accidentally stumbles upon you in Aprils apartment, does not easy his mistrustful thoughts about you

For a while he actually wonders if you’re some kind of secret spy to the foot clan or some other bad group of people, but anytime he tried to get you to confess your secrets, you’d just confusingly ask if you could help him with all the weird staring he’s doing

It lowkey leaves him feeling flustered, because he’s not used to not being taken seriously by anyone except his brothers

It takes a while for him to warm up to you, but when he does he starts to realizes how much he appreciates not being seen as a freak almost like Raph does, he also feels very relieved to not have to worry about his family being in any sort of danger with you

Yeah, you might be the shortest person he’s ever met, but he secretly feels like you could kick some ass

Your unassuming personality also has him thinking you could secretly be a force to wreckin with, and often ponders if he should offer up the idea to train you; definitely not because he wants to spend more time with you or anything of course!

~xXx~

#bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse leo x reader #tmnt x reader #aged up tmnt #human reader #anon request #imababblekat's writing

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cherriesformatt · 2 months

Text

sharing the news || matt sturniolo part 2

matt x fem!reader

summary: after a while you decided its time to share the news of your new chapter in life with Chris and Nick

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 1,5k

a/n: thank you for over 100 notes under part 1! I decided to continued the story. I hope you will like it!

It's been a month since me and Matt found out that I'm pregnant. It’s been hell of a ride so far. We somehow managed to talked Chris and Nick out of my little episode and told them I just got my period and was really upset, tired and need Matt to go to the store for me. I spent entire next two days in Matt’s room trying to figure out our situation. I was also constantly sick and anxious. After than I just tried to be as normal as I could so no one would be suspicious.

At first it was like I didn’t know what I should do. But then I found myself thinking about the baby with my hand on my stomach and I knew I wanted to keep it. I also did hear Matt talking to my belly in the middle of night which made me cry so hard in the bathroom because of how cute that was.

Today was my first ultrasound appointment to confirm the situation and check if everything is alright.

“You know… I was thinking that if everything is good I would like to tell Chris and Nick and then we can decide how and when we want to tell the rest of the family” Matt looked at me when we stopped on the red light.

Keeping this a secret form his brothers was really hard for him because they always talked about everything with each other. Which was scary for me at first. Their whole relationship and building my own with Matt but also becoming part of theirs. Now I just admire the bond between them.

“Yes I was thinking the same” I smiled at him and put my hand on his thigh. I was nervous about only one thing.

“What I was thinking… Is that I will literally jump if your fucking triplets genes worked too hard and there is more than one of those” I said what was on my mind recently.

“Oh my goodness… I didn’t think about this” He put his hand over his mouth.

He was clearly scared now.

“We giving one to Chris in that case” I said seriously.

“Please , we are never leaving our kids with Chris, ever” he said.

I only laughed at that and patted his leg.

“It’s gonna be all good Matt, let’s manifest it’s only one for now” I said.

“Baby… I know this month wasn’t ideal for you and we both tried to cope with the fact that we’re going to have a baby but also only us knowing for now is really special” He looked at me for a second and his eyes went back to the road.

That was also exactly how I felt and I leaned forward to him and kissed his cheek.

“I love you Matty… I know this is all hard but you’re right” I said.

“I love you too sweet girl… okay we’re here, let’s do this” He parked the car and took a deep breath.

Our appointment went smoothly. They did my blood test which confirmed that I’m pregnant. They also did bunch of other tests to see if I’m all good and healthy. Thankfully I was. The last step was the ultrasound.

“Alright parents…” The doctor said and I gasped at the cold of the liquid that she put all over my lower belly.

She called us “parents”, that took me by surprise and I felt so weird.

“Ready?” She looked at me and smiled and I only nodded and closed my hand on one of Matt’s hands.

She started the thing and looked at the monitor. We couldn’t see it just yet.

“Okay… I found it… everything looks great. The baby is healthy. Looks like you’re about 6/7 weeks pregnant” She said.

“Only one?” Matt asked and wiggled on the chair.

“Oh my Lord, Matt… He is a triplet and we were kind of scared that you know… there’s gonna be more than one” I laughed and looked back at the doctor.

“Yes there’s only one” She laughed as well and turned the screen so we could see it too.

I felt like my heart skipped a beat when I saw a little thing moving on the screen. Like a dot. But I knew it’s our baby.

“Oh my…” I said and she pushed some kid of button and sound of a really fast heartbeat started to play from the machine.

“Is that?..” Matt gasped as well.

“That’s your baby’s heart beating… it’s really fast that’s normal and that’s actually really good. The baby is really healthy, you guys… congratulations” She said with a big smile.

But both of us were speech less. I caught Matt swiping tears from his cheek with a corner of my eye. That moment was something you can’t explain. You need to experience that yourself to know how much love I felt in this moment.

When we were back in the car I put all of my stuff in the back seat, closed the doors and turned around to go to my doors but I was met by arms of my boyfriend.

“Oh Matt…” I said hugging him back.

He hid his head in the crock of my neck and I run my fingers through his hair. I felt tears on my skin and I couldn’t help as my eyes started to water as well.

“We’re going to be okay. We can do this Matt. Together” I said but my voice broke I couldn’t exactly feel what’s happening.

“I know… y/n I’m just so happy that’s it’s overwhelming” He said pulling back to rest his temple against mine.

“I feel exactly the same way” I whispered looking him in the eyes.

He kissed me and pulled me even closer to his body. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

On our way back we stopped by target and some other places to get Nick’s and Chris’s favorite snacks, drinks and some funny, cheesy stuff that had “cool uncle” on it.

At home I put all of it in two boxes and also added a picture from the ultrasound to each.

This situation was so unreal for me and Matt. They were actually filming in the kitchen now. I really wanted to have their reaction on camera, so we told them that Matt wanted to do some kind of unboxing with their eyes blindfolded and they would have to guess what’s in the boxes.

When he texted me they are ready I took the boxes and come to the kitchen and put them in front of them and stood behind the camera.

“Okay you may open them” Matt said.

They started to pull stuff out.

“That’s bullshit it’s clearly Pepsi and popcorn” Chris said.

“Yes and that’s my own lip balm” Nick said annoyed.

“Okay how about this?” Matt took an ultrasound pictures and put into their hands.

“Piece of paper?” Chris said.

“No” Matt said and looked at me.

“Picture?” Nick said and showed it to the camera.

“Yes, it’s a picture” He nodded and smiled to the camera.

“Picture of us?” Chris asked and opened his can of Pepsi.

“No… but picture of someone that is in a room with us” Matt said.

“Oh my gosh you fucking freaking me out right now, what the fuck, are you a medium or what” Nick said an put the picture on the table.

“Okay… maybe just take your blindfolds off and Chris… you might want to wait with that fist sip” I said looking at them.

“I didn’t know you were here…” Nick said and started to undo the bandanna on his head.

I bit on my nails as I watched them taking those off. Then they looked at the boxes and I felt like I stopped breathing for a second.

“What the actual fuck? Is this some kind of prank?” Chris asked as his eyes widened.

“Oh my gosh are you kidding me?” Nick looked at me and stood up.

“Chris you owe me 1000 dollars… I knew it!” He hugged me tightly and I put my arms around him.

“Did you two bet on me being pregnant? What the hell?” I laughed.

My stress went away because how could I be stressed around them.

“I actually forgot that we did” Chris said and gave Matt a big hug.

“You guys… I don’t know what to say” Nick said pulling away from me.

“Well…. To be honest we don’t know either” I said and Matt only laughed.

“Yes… this feels really like a dream more than real life” Matt said looking at his brothers.

“Wait… are we first to know?” Chris asked.

“Of course you are… who else?” Matt looked at him and Nick went closer to them and they three shared a hug and than looked at me.

“Come here mama” Chris wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Never, ever call me that again” I said seriously while coming into the hug.

They laugh and we stand like that for a minute or two.

“Okay I love you all but all three of you smell like three different colognes and I might throw up” I said stepping back.

This baby will be the luckiest baby in the whole world having them as a family.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets

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stormhearty · 3 months

Text

Parings: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2k+

Triggers: angst, mentions of war and death

Summary: The after-effects of your death hit Prythian hard, the loss of your light indefinitely, leaving the world less bright, and the loss of your power echoed throughout the land. Azriel now has to cope with the loss of his mate — the hollow feeling of the mating bond leaving him nothing but a shell of his previous self. The Inner Circle have to rebuild the trust they had with the other courts along Prythian — especially concerning Day Court. Helion, acting as your father, has to bury your body within the warm soils of Day Court as his people pay tribute to the loss of the Seer of Prythian.

Note: The epilogue to “Pushed to the Edge”! I am very happy to be ending this one-shot-turned-series! Thank you guys so much for supporting this!! This epilogue also included a little insight on the reader’s POV of the last section of part 3. I hope it sheds some light on why she decided to do what she did. Also, I am always happy to write more about Seer!Reader if anyone would like more. But please do enjoy the epilogue.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

The dark wind bellowed through your hair, a deathly chill running down your spine as you watched the shadows guide Azriel through the streets of Valeris. You stood on the hill that you had winnowed to, watching him wreak destruction against the Death-God’s army. Feeling a slither of shadow against your arm, you looked down and gave a tiny smile — a rare one that tugged on your lips after your resurrection — as you brought it to your lips and pressed a kiss against the flutter of shadow, “Take me to him… It’s time…”

You had known of your connection to the Death-God the moment you had been resurrected from Death. The feeling of the ancient, tattered cord that connected your two beings — one that was hollow and empty. You were unaware of what that bond meant, whether it connected your souls to eternal servitude or something else, you kept that bond a secret — weaving shadow and darkness around that cord, hiding it from the Death-God.

The only time you realized the importance of the connection was during a vision — the only vision you ever had since your revival.

One that would take not only your life but the very life of the Death-God — one that was by the hands of the person that had broken you.

You kept that vision close to your heart, hiding it within shadows from the Death-God, using it as an arsenal against him. You watched as destruction and death seeped through Prythian and you felt the distress bite your very soul.

This isn’t what you had wanted, you never wanted Prythian to be destroyed — all you wanted was revenge against those who struck against you — those who had betrayed you. Not all this loss of life.

Not against Helion, or Thesan, or Tarquin… not against the rest of the High Lords.

No… you had to put an end to this.

You had used the bargain with Azriel to your advantage, using him to fight for you — the vision you kept so close to your heart started to sing alive as if you were walking down the correct path to end this destruction.

And so when the shadows winnowed you to where Azriel stood, the shadows cloaking his body, the Truth-Teller rightfully in his hands, another smile tugged on your features.

This had been it. The vision that came to pass — that last vision — of you and Azriel, finally ending the rein of darkness that Kosechi planned to coat your world in.

You had stepped closer to him, watching his body stiffen, his Spymaster instincts taking over his form. You heard the whispers of the shadows in his ear and you couldn’t help but look down at your chest, the shadows finally unraveling themselves from the last piece of light in your soul — the final mark where Azriel would strike.

Lifting your head, you watched the Shadowsinger lunge for you, the Truth-Teller stabbing you in your light, the shadows around it shrieking in agony, pain, and sadness. A gasp escaped your lips at a vision passed behind your eyes — the same pain rushing down the now open bond between you and Kosechi, the same wound inflicted on his immortal body.

It has been done.

Your knees buckled and you felt the shadows slip from Azriel to your own body, feeling the whisps chill on your skin. Eyes looked up at Azriel, seeing the disbelief and agony in his features. It was satisfying to see… to see him in so much pain.

Everything passed in a blur, not knowing that the Death-God had come and gone. All you can focus on is your mate — former mate. You felt his hot tears on your cooling body and you just stared up at him, pouring all your emotions out — inflicting as much pain as you could with your final breaths.

It was done. It has ended. And your time as Prythian’s Seer, its unknown Seer, has finally come to pass.

Your duty is done.

Helion felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He felt as if his whole world was being taken away from his very eyes as he watched the Spymaster hold your dead body, howling at your loss. The Day High Lord felt his body shake as he took a step forward, looking around at the piles of corpses — of Kosechi’s followers on the ground — before focusing back on you.

He heard the winnowing of Rhysand and the rest of the High Lords, as they surrounded the breaking Spymaster.

“… Azriel…” Rhysand’s voice cracked, trying to call his brother out of the agony he was feeling.

The Spymaster looked up, seeing all the High Lords before going to his knees, continuing to clutch your body close to him, “Please… I beg all of you. Please bring her back… the kernel of life…” He begged, tears dried on his cheeks, determination in his hazel eyes.

Rhysand’s face pinched with pain at the request and Helion’s hardened.

“How dare you, Azriel…” Helion’s was hard as steel, the Spymaster’s body flinching, “To plead to bring her back to life when you had been the one to break and hurt her… Forcing her hand to kill herself…”

Azriel shook his head, pressing his forehead against your own, your body cool, devoid of life, “I know… I know. Give me a chance… give me a chance to do everything again. To make things right with her. Give her a chance to live again. That’s all I ask. I’d do anything, give anything for her to be alive again.”

He wailed, pleaded, and whispered against your skin, hoping that the High Lords would listen to his request. All he wanted was to feel your heartbeat again, bask in your light, to hold you in his arms again. To love you again. He knew it was possible, the High Lords have done it twice — with Feyre Under the Mountain, and with Rhysand after Hybern. Using that kernel of life to bring you back from the dead — to bring you back home, bring you back to him.

Azriel waited, but all he heard was silence, the blow of the wind loud in his ears. He heard footsteps towards him and he looked up to see Rhysand, his features pained as he kneeled to his brother.

“We can’t… Azriel…” he confessed, his voice pained as he saw the light dim in Azriel’s features, “She has already been resurrected once… Twice is against Mother’s will. There’s… nothing we could do…”

“No… that can’t be. Please, Rhysand!” he looked up at his High Lord, “I’d do anything… anything to bring her back…. Take mine! Take my life, to give to her! A life for a life…! That will work right?” He was frantic, thinking of anything… any way to bring you back to living.

“Stop, Shadowsinger…” Helion’s voice ordered, the command echoed through every fae in that spot. Rhysand closed his eyes, fighting back every urge to follow that command. The High Lord of Night stood up and stepped back, feeling Helion’s presence behind him.

Azriel growled and looked up at Helion, instinctively wrapping his arms tighter around your body.

“You had multiple chances to make it up to her. You watched as she begged you to listen, to listen to your mate. But you ignored it, you pissed off your chances for her. You do not get another shot, not in this life… and probably not in any other lifetime you will have with her.”

With a snap of his fingers, your body was winnowed from Azriel’s arms to his own, Helion gently holding you in his arms as he looked down at you with so much sadness and regret.

The Shadowsinger tried to scramble back up, to want to fight the High Lord, only to be held down by Cassian and Rhysand, “Don’t…” Rhysand commanded him, “…We have no right to her anymore. Not after everything we have done…”

“What did you do?” Azriel snarled at his High Lord.

“Your High Lord made a bargain…” Helion disclosed as he turned his heels, stepping back from the Inner Circle, “You and the rest of Night Court have no claims over her body, not when (Y/N) was originally from Day Court. Her body will be buried in Day soil, where she rightfully belongs. And you, Shadowsinger, are banned from entering my Court. And so will the rest of your family… The only person that I will allow to visit her body will be your High Lady. As Night Court’s emissary…”

Azriel felt his heart drop to the ground. No. He already lost you, and now he cannot visit your grave, to mourn for you.

“I will have no bargaining with you, Shadowsinger. Not when your High Lord was the one who allowed it,” Helion looked over his shoulder at the three brothers, “No matter what you do, this bargain will be the last with the Night Court. You have lost all my trust with this matter…”

And with that, Helion winnowed away — with your body in his arms.

Azriel stared at the spot that Helion winnowed away from as he felt hands come off his body. He collapsed, pressing scarred hands into the dirt. He felt his whole body continue to shake, the sadness, the anger not leaving him — he felt as if his anger was never-ending; anger at Helion for taking your body from him, anger at him for banning him from Day Court; anger at his High Lord for creating the bargain in the first place; anger at you for dying in his arms, forcing him to be the one to take your life.

“Azriel…” Rhysand called his name before he stepped back away from his brother when a growl escaped Azriel’s chest.

“Why… Why would you make that bargain, Rhysand…” he murmured, tilting his head up to look at his High Lord with a glare, hazel eyes blazing with that anger he felt throughout his body.

Rhysand sighed and knelt once more to be eye-to-eye with his brother, “I had to, Azriel. I couldn’t argue with Helion, not after everything we did to (Y/N)… She was originally from Day Court, she is tied to Helion’s Court — - “

“But she’s been with us for five hundred years, Rhysand… She had a home with us… She was my mate…” Azriel tried to reason with his High Lord, hazel eyes shifting from anger to absolute despair.

“— - You have no right to claim her as your mate… Not anymore. Not after cheating on her with Elain…” Rhysand reprimanded his brother, “I have no claim to her to be under my Court after I had failed to protect her. We have lost her, Azriel. We lost her the moment we had failed as a family to notice her pain… We had failed her entirely. I regret immensely on how we have treated her the last moments of her life… I regret every moment since her death on how I treated her as her High Lord, as her friend, as her family…”

There was so much pain in Rhysand’s voice and Azriel let out a painful cry, one that echoed so deep in his soul.

“I let Helion take her body to let her body be at peace in her home, her real home, Azriel. A place where she is not in pain, one where she isn’t surrounded by those who had betrayed her. Your banishment from Day Court was part of that bargain — I didn’t want to do that to you, brother — -” he placed a hand against Azriel’s trembling shoulder, “— - I didn’t want to separate you from her, but I had to… For her.”

Another sob escaped Azriel’s lips as he dropped his head, his forehead resting against the cool ground, “How can I continue to live?” he whispered, “My whole soul is breaking, Rhysand… The echo of that bond hurts so much. I never knew how much it would hurt… If I knew, if I knew this would be the outcome of my infidelity towards her, I would never have done it. If I knew my infidelity would cause her to die in my arms, I would have never done it.”

Rhysand sighed and looked up to Cassian, the General looking at his brother with so much sorrow. The two looked at one another before reaching toward Azriel to heave him off the ground. All Azriel wanted to do was collapse, but he knew he couldn’t — he didn’t have any right to do so. He was the cause of this, he was at fault.

“You will continue to live…” Rhysand urged, “You will continue to live and mourn and regret. We all will. That’s all we can do for (Y/N)…”

Azriel looked at Rhysand, before glancing at Cassian, who nodded, “We all will continue to live with our betrayal. Live and regret.”

And all Azriel could do was tilt his head back, looking up at the gray sky as raindrops fell — as if the universe knew how he felt at that very moment.

Feyre stood in the back of the ceremony, watching as Helion lowered your body into the ground — one decorated so beautifully, in a simple white tule dress and on top of your head a halo that mimicked the sun. You looked gorgeous, lying in the casket as if you were just sleeping.

The High Lady listened to Helion’s speech — the love and admiration evident in every word he spoke about you; on how he had found you, protected you — he told your story, every happy moment but also every sad and devastating moment.

She could see how Helion held back so much anger when he brought up your time at Night Court and Feyre couldn’t help but pang of pain in her chest. She regretted every moment of listening to it all over again — Feyre knew she could have made a difference. She tried to help you, tried to reach out to you — but her effort wasn’t big enough. She could have tried harder, to fight for you — but she failed at that.

Everything was a blur after the speech, people had slowly filtered out after they had paid respect to the loss of your light, the loss of your life. Feyre felt her feet bring her to your grave. She looked at the statue that stood at the head of your grave, one was a mirror of your body that was now in the ground. That same dress, that same crown on top of your head.

You were like a goddess that glowed under Day Court’s sun.

Feyre felt a figure next to her, turning her head to look at Helion who looked up at that statue with sadness.

“… That was a wonderful speech, Helion,” Feyre complimented, her gaze returning up at the statue.

The Day High Lord did not say anything back to the High Lady.

And Feyre continued, “… — - I know that no matter how many times we apologize, you will never forgive us. And I understand… (Y/N)… was the best thing that you had given us, the best thing that Azriel had in his life — “ Feyre watched from the corner of her eye that Helion’s hand fisted tightly against his side at the mention of the Shadowsinger, “— - We will do our very best, to gain your trust again. We will mourn for centuries for what we had done to her, we will continue to regret.”

Helion let out a broken chuckle and shook his head, “… I don’t think I can trust any of you again, Feyre… Not when you had taken her away from me. This child was the best thing that has happened to me, besides knowing that Lucien is my son… (Y/N) was my daughter, I raised her as my daughter… And it hurts, knowing that she passed before I did. You… never want to bury your children… And that’s what I had to do today. And I will never forget how that feels…”

He turned his head towards Feyre, “… Be glad you were able to be part of this ceremony, High Lady of Night Court… It was for (Y/N), she would have wanted you to be part of her burial. If it was me, I would never let you in my Court again, but this is all for her.”

Feyre nodded her head, “And I am, and forever will be, thankful for your kindness…”

Helion gave a stiff nod of his head before looking back up at the statue for a moment before turning on his heels and walking away.

The High Lady sighed and looked up at the statue as well, “I hope you are at peace, (Y/N)…” she whispered a prayer one more time before turning as well, walking out of the wards of Day Court before winnowing away, the echo of a sad lament for you singing through the lands.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar angst #azriel x reader #( .one shot : pushed to the edge )#azriel angst #azriel

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klausysworld · 4 months

Note

Hiii I was wondering if you could write a klaus oneshot where the reader is enemies with klaus but klaus finds out she has cancer and is all alone and begins to fall in love with her or something like that.

I totally understand if you don’t want to do or you’re uncomfortable with it.

I’ve Got You

(This is on a very sensitive subject, please don’t read if it will upset you too much and know that if you are suffering or know someone who is, nobody is alone)

Cancer was something that had torn up Y/n’s life. It caused her to push people away all of the time. She didn’t want to be too close to anyone, not when the doctors couldn’t tell her how long she had left.

For a while they thought that the cancer had gone but she didn’t want to risk anything only for it to come back.

So she continued to be closed off, even from her own family.

Being Elena and Jeremy’s sister was hard enough, let alone growing up having cancer. Having two parents who were involved in medical care was both a dream and a nightmare. They made her live according to their timetable and their rules as to what would ‘help’. She knew, even as a child, that her family struggled much like any family would struggle to afford treatment and research and she hated herself for costing them so much.

She was kept separate from her siblings, built little to no bond with them. When her parents died, there was nobody to care for her or at least give her hope. She couldn’t afford hospital bills on her own, she had to seek out other family, like Uncle John and he did help however when he lost his life, she lost the chance of hers.

The people at the hospital knew Y/n well, they wanted to help best they could. She was supplied with medication in the form of pills to at least somewhat control the cancer and they had hope that she would be able to take part in a chemotherapy treatment program that would take place within the next year. That was as much hope as she could have to go on.

And she tried to hold onto that, she would imagine the day that they told her she would be able to live her life full without so much risk.

But at the same time, she didn’t really believe it would happen for her. Not anymore.

Sometimes she wished that a vampire would just kill her, out her out of her misery. Other times she wanted to survive everything her dreadful life threw at her and live a long healthy life to its fullest.

It was why she was so up and down with how she behaved. It was why the way she was around certain people changed so drastically, like Klaus.

Sometimes she wanted to see how many buttons she could push, she wanted to make him kill her so at least it wasn’t cancer that took her out. Other times, she just wish he’d disappear and leave both her and her family alone.

She would wonder if, had no vampires ever turned up to Mystic falls, if she would have been able to connect with her siblings some more, if Jenna would have given her some hope.

Those thoughts made her mad, but also sad. That’s when she would get snappy. Sometimes she didn’t mean to annoy him but she couldn’t help herself.

But unfortunately it made people dislike her which in some cases was a good thing because it meant people wouldn’t miss her if she did die but it also meant that she was even more alone.

Y/n was too young to deal with something so big, it was no surprise she didn’t know how to manage it. The problem was that nobody else knew how to either and so she was forced to try do it herself.

The medication she had been on since young caused an imbalance of hormones and had stunted her growth in areas. It made her hair thin and caused her to become feeble and delicate to an extent. Of course she tried her hardest to build up her strength but she wasn’t stupid, she knew it was much easier for her to become out of breath, to become exhausted or hurt. It was because of this that people like Damon would dismiss her and why she would be cast aside without any explanation. Not that she needed a reason, she already knew.

In some ways, she liked that Klaus didn’t know that she had cancer. He would be boisterous around her, tease and taunt her like he would anyone else. Because to him, she was like everyone else. She wasn’t a delicate little thing that needed to be avoided and fixed.

Sometimes he could go a little far, once he had her by the throat, cutting off her airways as he threatened her. He didn’t know that after he left she was spluttering blood all over the floor as she coughed and wheezed for air. She struggled for it anyway, she didn’t like someone taking it from her. But she never said anything to him, of course she was a little more cautious but she enjoyed pissing him off when she could.

When she was little, kids were cruel. If she wanted to play, they would give her funny looks and say they didn’t want to play with her. They acted like she was contagious, or an alien. She hated it.

So even if Klaus’s attention was ill intended, at least it was directed at her.

————————————————————————

Klaus originally saw her as another inconvenience. He met her when he was in Alarics body, when he went over to the Gilbert’s house to harass Jenna and frightened the others. Turns out their sister Y/n also hadn’t been clued in on who he really was. She had wondered down the stairs still in her pyjamas, smiling subtly at him and going to the cupboard to grab some biscuits. Once she had sat down and began munching, Stefan was storming in and telling her and Jenna to run. At that point Y/n just looked tired and begrudgingly got dragged out the house by a hysterical Jenna.

The next time was at a hospital after he had taken Elena from senior prank night. She was sat in the waiting room, lead across the seats as though she had been there hours. He came and sat beside her, spoke to her and told her to tell Damon to never threaten him again. She agreed without compulsion and kept her trap shut about anything else.

The following few times he saw her, she was less tired and more firey. That’s when he began to take a strange liking to her. She always had something to snap back at him no matter how dark the last thing he said was.

Somehow she seemed to know exactly how to make him tick. Knew how to tease him enough to make him want her to shut up but not enough to physically make her. Though occasionally she went too far and he would break.

Sometimes he felt a weird sensation of guilt swirling inside him, he never knew what to do about that. He didn’t enjoy that.

When she became tired, she was moody and would say things to purposely make him angry. And klaus’s anger management had never been great. He didn’t always mean to react to quick and harshly but he couldn’t help it. Especially when he didn’t understand why she was so angry sometimes.

He knew that she was very much seen as irrelevant when it came to her siblings and the Salvatore’s etc. He couldn’t understand why exactly, she was not less useful than Elena was as far as he could see. Still he didn’t ask or dig on it, it didn’t matter to him if she was apart of the little gang or not. She seemed to hang around him anyway.

He took an amount of joy in their playful banter and teasing nature when around each other. He also liked to push at her buttons the same way she did his. But he wasn’t as good at knowing how far he could go, often she would end up storming off and he’d be left feeling guilty and there’d frustrate which lead to annoyance and anger.

————————————————————————

Klaus hadn’t once guessed that the reason for her mood swings or her pushed to the side nature was due to cancer.

He hadn’t been expecting to see her name on labels of samples of blood.

He was in the hospital for blood obviously, even though he drank mostly straight from the vein, with all his hybrids and his busy schedule sometimes blood bag was easier.

He happened to come across the samples and spotted a familiar name. His curiosity peeked. Of course he originally guessed that it was just normal things like she had given blood or that she had low iron. But something within him told him to look further.

So he began to compel people to get him her files and information. But turns out he didn’t need to, as soon as he said her name the receptionist was yapping on.

“Oh the poor girl, in and out of here since she was just a toddler” she began, sighing and clicking for Y/n’s name on the computer.

“Really?” He questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Uhuh, next appointment is…oh! Tomorrow” she smiled and Klaus nodded pretending to know

“Right for..”

“Collection and a check up” she smiled and turned around to find something, a bag. She placed the paper back infront of him with contained the prescription pills that would control the cancer to some level. He smiled back at her though it didn’t reach his eyes and picked up the packet, reading what they were and what they did.

His heart dropped a little and he hesitantly handed them back to the receptionist. “Thank you, I’d take them to her but if she has a check up tomorrow anyway then I expect it’s easier if she get them herself” he muttered, his voice quiet as he felt a strange sadness forming somewhere inside him.

“Of course” the woman answered “Will you be with her tomorrow?” She asks with the tilt of her head.

“I might be” he replied, unsure and she nodded slightly back

“I’m sure she’d like it if you did, nobodies been with her for a scan for over a year now” she sighed and his heart ached.

He left shortly after and tried to find her. Eventually he found her, much to his surprise, at his house. She was sat on his sofa with a glass of wine and one of his hybrids, chatting about whatever. Without caring he made his way over and grabbed her by the arm.

“Klaus!” She yelped as he began to pull her away from the hybrid.

“He just wants to drain you love, come on upstairs” he murmured, pushing her up the stairs and grabbing the bottle of wine from the table.

“Well he might just be nice” she muttered

“Perhaps but I don’t like the odds” he replied as he pulled her into his room

“Right, because you care if he kills me” she grumbled and his stomach turned uncomfortably. No longer did the joking of her death amuse him like it once did.

When she noticed his silence and the look he had in his eyes, she knew that he knew. It was stupid look of pity that everyone had and that slightly uncomfortable stance because they don’t know how to act around her anymore.

She sighed and glanced to the floor and then him. “Can you not?” She whispered and he frowned confused

“Not what-“

“Oh don’t do that. I know you know. Its fine. I’ve had it forever you don’t have to be weird” she mumbled as she sat on his bed, laying back and staring up at the ceiling tiredly.

“I don’t know what-“

“Cancer Klaus. It’s not a scary word, it’s not Voldemort” she grumbled

“What-?” He questioned confused

“Doesn’t matter it’s not the point” she whispered and he frowned

“You never said anything about it” he muttered as he sat beside her.

“It’s not really the best conversation topic. Plus we’re not that close” she mumbled

“Well…you’re in my bed so I’ve done something right” he joked lightly and she smiled

“I guess so” she whispered.

Klaus laid down beside Y/n quietly. It was a little odd to be so close to her without either of them having ill intentions. He did feel bad though that he made her uncomfortable but he couldn’t help but act a little off. His mind had been replaying every time he had hurt her, he wondered how much it had endangered her life.

It confused him as to why he had this care for her. He couldn’t have cared less about week ago if she had been killed but knowing that she actually, most likely, would die much sooner than expected made him feel something. To know that she was living in pain and fear of when it would catch up to her.

Klaus was a man who liked control, he couldn’t imagine having something like cancer hanging over his life everyday acting as a threat ever time she breathed.

“So you-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it” she mumbled, cutting him off. He fell into silence and sighed softly.

Y/n stared at the ceiling, wishing it would fall on her in this moment. She hated that he knew. Of course she didn’t exactly hide it from him but she also didn’t want him to know. Not because it was something she was embarrassed of, or because she feared he would used it against her. Simply because it meant there was one more person who would look at her like she was incapable and weak. She didn’t want to be stared at like an animal at a zoo by anyone else.

She’d rather he be cruel to her and tell her how pathetic she was just for being a human. She’d rather he scare her and hurt her like he did everyone else in town than look at her like he was now.

She felt her eyes drain of the life that they usually held when around Klaus. With a lump forming in her throat and a heavy weight of disappointment on top of her, she pushed herself up and got off his bed.

“I’m gonna go home” she muttered, ignoring the way he sat up and looked after her with worry.

“Love-“ he called, standing up to follow her as she made her way down his stairs.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home” she huffed.

“Sweetheart-“

“Shut up Klaus” she snapped “stop calling me cute little names and looking at me like I’m a three-legged puppy! You don’t like me, I’m annoying and useless to you” she sighed, her voice becoming desperate and she hated how pathetic she sounded.

“You’re dying” he whispered

“Everyone’s dying” she mumbled “I’m just doing it faster” before leaving his house, closing the door behind her.

Klaus left her alone for a little while, and she avoided him also.

He did however go back to the hospital after she had her most recent scan. He compelled the surgeon to show he what was happening, where it was and what that meant. He wanted to know why she wasn’t getting more help, they told him there was very little chance of her surviving even with chemotherapy. Klaus argued they should still try and they informed him of the treatment trial coming up in two months time. Demands were made, he would pay for everything and they would tell her that she qualified to have it free. He didn’t really care what lie they told her just so long as she accepted it.

And she did, Klaus received a phone call telling him so.

Klaus still had no explanation for his sudden change of heart, why he wanted her to get better so badly. He didn’t know why, he just did.

He felt a little sad that she wouldn’t hang around him anymore. Not many people willingly spoke to him, even if it was just some teasing and playful banter. He missed it.

When she had her first dosage of chemo, he found himself in her hospital room. It upset him that nobody had come with her or shown any care at all.

Klaus quietly wondered through the hospital, it was halfway into the night and quiet as he searched for her room. His expression softened when he saw her curled up in a bed, the machine beside her beeping quietly. A singular rose was placed beside her bed as he pulled a chair over to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek softly. It was an odd gesture coming from the hybrid but he tried not to dwell on it as he sat beside her for a while.

Klaus came back during the night as her treatment continued, he would leave her a rose and often a note. He would never know how much it meant to her.

One night he ran his fingers through her hair, only for a handful of strands to come out with his hand. His eyes had enlarged as he quickly put it in the bin and gently lifted to her head to find a clump of hair on her pillow. He didn’t want her to find it in the morning and be upset and so removed it himself.

He didn’t mean to wake her up. She knew it was him without a doubt when she felt her face against someone’s chest. She could hear his soft muttering and the sound of his hand behind her head. It took her a minute to figure out what he was doing and when the realisation hit her she just stared at his chest exhausted. Y/n could remember when all her hair fell out the first time, when she was little and the other kids would poke fun while the parents would tell her how brave she was while staring at her with that helpless, pitiful face. She didn’t want to see it on Klaus’s face as well so she pretended to stay asleep.

After a moment he laid her back down and pulled the blanket back up. “There we go” he murmured softly as he smoothed it over “it’s all going to be just fine” he whispered, stroking her arm gently. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady until he left, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling after he was gone. She hated feeling sorry for herself all of the time but it seemed she could never catch a break.

It wasn’t long before she was back home, still on chemo but home. Jeremy was living in Denver and Elena basically lived at the Salvatores so Y/n had the house to herself. She didn’t go out much, she never really had. She only did recently to annoy Klaus but she didn’t want to be around him anymore either so she found that staying inside was better.

However Klaus had different ideas and so wound up on her doorstep, nocking incessantly until she answered.

“Finally love, you and me worried” he sighed and she narrowed her eyes

“What do you want?” She snapped, she was wrapped up in a blanket and wore a hat on her head. Klaud wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold or because she had given in and shaved her head.

“It’s lovely to see you too” he smiled sarcasticly and she glared. “I wanted to see how you were doing” he answered.

“I’m doing fine. How are you doing?” She replied stiffly

“Ah you know…family troubles” he mumbled and she hummed

“Elijah?” She question

“All of them” Klaus muttered “three brothers, a sister and a mother. I can only be glad I’ve already killed my father…though that didn’t stop mother”

Y/n let out a breathy laugh and glance down “I’ll grab my shoes and we’ll talk and walk.” She told him before closing the door. Klaus smiled to himself as he waited a second before she came out ready. She was completely wrapped up, hat gloves coat. Still he didn’t ask, just remained happy to be with her.

They spoke about the sudden arrival of his family and the ball. He said he hoped she would come but her silence wasn’t convincing.

“You don’t have to” he told her “I know you don’t like people and you barely like me enough” he smiled and she returned it weakly.

“I don’t really think it’s a good idea” she mumbled and he nodded, of course he was a little disappointed but he wasn’t exactly surprised either.

“Then perhaps you’ll have to give me a dance another time?” He offered and she shrugged playfully with a smile

“I might be able to come for just one dance, but I go home straight after?” She compromised and he grinned

“Perfect” he whispered and cupped her face. The smile soon vanished from his lips as he felt how hot her skin was to touch “you’re burning” he mumbled before unzipping her coat and pulling her hat off. Immediately she made a sound of upset and grabbed for the hat. His eyes softened as she stared at him with a mixture of emotions.

She wanted to die. That was it. She wanted the cancer to take her in that moment. Stupid Klaus. She wasn’t sure why having no hair made her feel so bad, she had a nice shaped head but her past experience with peoples reactions caused her to hate it.

“Put it back” she whimpered but he shook his head. His hands gently pulled her coat off and then her gloves.

“You have a fever, you’re boiling, I’m taking you home” he told her as he leant down and lifted her up. She looked at him like he was crazy, she didn’t understand what kind of bond they had or what feelings they held for eachother. She didn’t why he would like her of all people. Was it pity? She hoped not, she’d be so pissed off it was.

“Fevers are normal” she mumbled “you don’t gotta worry”

“Normal or not, it’s best we get rid of it so that it doesn’t hurt you” he answered as he carried her towards her house. She couldn’t help but smile a little when he said ‘we’. In a way it reminded her of how her parents would care her and tell her that it was something they would all get through.

He felt her relax a little in his hold and glanced down to see her looking up at him with a lost look in her eye as he approached her door.

“I can’t come in but I trust that you’ll know how to cool off? I can take you to my house otherwise” he told her as he placed her down and passed her things back to her as she got inside.

“I’ll be fine, thank you” she told him with a small smile before closing the door.

Later that day she received a package containing a dress, shoes that matched and a silver necklace with her birthstone hanging from it. She smiled a little and put it somewhere safe ready for the next evening.

Then she continued to settle her fever and take a nap. She woke back up, watched a few films, messaged Klaus to let him know she was okay now, and finally took her meds when she ate her dinner before going to sleep.

In the morning she continued her everyday routine and lounging around until it was only a couple hours before the ball that the mikaelsons were throwing. She had argued with herself all day whether she should go. She knew people would talk, seeing the cancer kid with Klaus Mikaelson. Not that it was date. No no. That would be weird…

Eventually she decided she would go, dance the first dance and then go home. She just hoped that the exhaustion wouldn’t hit her too hard while she was out or that she wouldn’t fall sick until she got back home.

Y/n never got to go to events like Elena and Jeremy did when she was little, but her mother would dress her up when she was in the house sometimes to make her feel happy and pretty for a day. That was the only way she knew what she was doing when it came to her face. She had stolen some from Elena’s room as she only had the basics for herself.

She put on everything he had given her and looked in the mirror. Her hands touched her head with a small sigh before she called a cab that took her to the mansion.

She stood outside it for a few minutes, unsure whether she should just turn around and walk in. Klaud didn’t give her that option when he came wondering outside, his eyes looking around for her hopefully. She smiled a little to herself and began to walk towards him, his gaze met hers halfway and he quickly flashed beside her.

“You came” he whispered, pulling her in for an unexpected hug. He pulled back and cleared his throat “sorry” he muttered awkwardly before grabbing her hand and leading her inside. “You look gorgeous by the way, you always look gorgeous but…not that- “

“Thank you” she cut him off with a smile and squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Am I late? I didn’t mean to stand there for so long” she asked quietly, glancing around and seeing the entire town moving around his home.

“It’s okay, the first dance only just started” he told her, leading her further inside.

“I never really learned to dance” she whispered nervously

“That’s alright” he murmured “I’ve got you” he told her and she believed him.

She let him guide her throughout the dance, she kept her eyes on him and tried to ignore any stares. Klaus kept her close and offered a death glare to anyone who even glanced their way. Time flew, they danced for nearly six full songs before he felt her body go momentarily limp to his. Thankfully his arm was around her waist already so he kept her up. She regained her balance in seconds but it was clear that something was wrong.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, alright love?” He murmured to her but she shook her head

“I can’t do the stairs…I’m dizzy” she whispered and he nodded

“I know, I didn’t expect you to walk up them” he told her before gently tugging her away from the people. They walked straight past Elijah and Elena talking, both turned to face them with looked of confusion and surprise as Klaus told her to let him help her. He kept upright so that nobody would know she was being carried as he supported her weight up each step. Once at the top they walked past Finn and Esther, his mother eyed the girl with that same pity as most and shook her head at Finn in a way that told him to leave them alone as Klaus lead her into his room carefully.

He laid her down on his bed, propping her up with pillows and cupping her face gently. Her eyes focused on his as his cool hands soothed her skin.

“You feel okay love?” He asked softly

“Yeah I’m ok” she nodded as her head began to settle. She felt a little nauseous but less faint. “I should go home” she mumbled, pushing herself up but he shook his head and laid her back down.

“Stay here tonight love, I’ll look after you” he told her

“Can’t, gotta have my meds” she muttered and he nodded

“I’ll go get them okay? You stay in here, find a shirt of mine to wear to bed and I’ll go get your pills.” He decided, standing up

“Klaus…you’re not invited in” she whispered and he sighed

“Then I’ll go to the hospital and get some, I know what you need”

“It’s easier if I go home” she argued

“I want you here” he told her seriously and with a sigh she nodded.He nodded in return and stroked her face, and her smooth head gently. “You can wear whatever you like okay?” He smiled and she nodded, watching as he left.

Klaus quickly made his way out the room, rushing down the stairs and out the house. Stopping for only a second to tell Elijah to keep people downstairs.

Once he was back from the hospital with her medication she was wrapped in his duvet, dressed in his shirt and her panties with no makeup left on her face while scrolling through Netflix on his TV. He smiled at the sight and close the door behind him with a click. Her head lifted to see him and he made his way over with the bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Thank you Klaus” she whispered gratefully as she swallowed a pill before handing back the glass which he placed on a coaster on his bedside table.

He grabbed a shirt and some plaid pants before disappearing into his conjoined bathroom. He remerged from the room in a couple minutes ready for sleep. He had a sofa in his room, a mini fridge and everything. Y/n wandered if he ever actually had to leave his room.

Klaus opened a cabinet filled with blankets and pillows and pulled a couple out and setting up a bed on the couch making Y/n frown a little, guilt and confusion swirling.

“You done have to sleep there” she told him “You could sleep here if you want…or I could go on the sofa, I don’t mind” she offered, slipping out of the bed and making her way to the couch but he spun her straight back around and lead her back to bed.

“Under no circumstances will you not be in that bed” he told her, a level of authority in his tone as he put her to bed. “I don’t want to disturb your sleep by stealing half the bed” he teased.

“No it’s okay, I like sharing” she smiled and he raised a brow as he sat down infront of her.

“Oh? Do you share beds often?” He teased with narrowed eyes. Klaus didn’t like the thought of Y/n sleeping with anyone but himself. Even if it was just a nap.

“No” she whispered, her cheeks bushing pink “sometimes when I was sick my mom would sleep with me” she shrugged and he smiled.

“I doubt I’ll be anything like your mother sweetheart” he chuckled and she rolled her eyes

“Oh just come lay down, you know that’s not-“

“I know, I know” he murmured playfully as he laid beside her. She huffed out a breath dramatically and he grinned, pulling her against him. It was strange to be so close to him, teasing and laughing again. She liked it though, and so did he.

Klaus shifted himself under the duvet and pulled it around them. He hadn’t had a girl in his bed for a while, especially the past few months. All he could think of was her so why would he want some other woman? It had been even longer since he had a girl in his bed with no expectations of sex. That hadn’t happened in decades.

Something about it was nice, innocent.

Y/n on the other hand had never shared a bed with a man, never been touched or ever really thought that a guy would want to touch her. She didn’t think Klaus would either, especially not when she looked like she did. She’d lost a lot of weight from the chemo, her stamina was low, she bruised easy and she had no hair which threw most boys off. Boys her own age at least. Not Klaus.

He couldn’t have cared less about something so simplistic. Sure, she had pretty hair at one point but it didn’t define her. He liked her as she was, of course he wanted her to be cancer free and happy but he’d still love her while she wasn’t.

Love. Was it too strong of a word? He wasn’t sure.

Especially not when he was looking at her like he was now. Seeing her so openly vulnerable and curled up against him, sleepy eyes set on the tv and her body hidden under the quilt though he could feel her legs touching his.

It wasn’t long before they were snuggled up and half asleep. She was barely conscious when Elijah’s head popped into the room to check on Niklaus. The brothers had a brief conversation on how the night went, Elijah expressed his caution around their mother Klaus said he couldn’t be bothered with it anymore. Elijah left when Y/n began to stir and Klaus’s focus became her.

He slept with her throughout the night, he woke to find her missing and his heart sank. Thankfully she wondered back in from the bathroom a few minutes later and crawled back to bed with a yawn. Klaus’s lips upturned and he pulled her close again. She looked up at him with a small smile which grew when their eyes met.

“Hi” she whispered and he smiled

“Hi” he uttered back, pulling her as close to his side as he could before she was under him. She glanced to the time, seeing it was still really early. She groaned softly and closed her eyes. Klaus hummed softly and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek bones softly. “You look so pretty” he whispered.

Her cheeks tinted red and she rolled onto her side to hide her face from him but it only resulted in him spooning her. He kissed the back of her head making her go redder and her fingers to hold onto the sheets beneath. Klaus pressed close to her, too close. The second she felt something hard against her backside her body went tense and she panicked. Klaus felt her fear and quickly pulled himself away from her but she was already getting out of bed.

“I have to go, I’m sorry” she whispered, heading for the door but he sped infront of her.

“Love-“

“I gotta go”

“Let me drive you, and at least give you something to wear” he mumbled, disappointed with himself for scaring her. She nodded when she realised she was still in just her underwear and his shirt. He sped into Rebekah’s room which was unsurprisingly empty as she had ended up staying the night in Damon Salvatores bed.

He came back and she pulled the jeans on before he drove her home. It was quiet and he hated that he’d ruined the night. He should have thought about it and known she wouldn’t want that, he hadn’t intended to do anything other than sleep but she was so close and he couldn’t help but want. His desire always won though in this case it made him lose big time.

He apologised quietly when she got out the car and she told him it was okay and that she overreacted. Neither of them were particularly pleased with how they responded.

Y/n thought about how the moment could have played out a hundred times over and kicked herself for not just letting him have her. But she knew she would have regretted it.

They both decided to pretend the incident didn’t happen when they saw eachother next. Klaus had turned up on her doorstep that same night, it was clear he had been crying but she mention it. She wrapped her arms around him as he told her that his family had left again and that his mother wanted him dead. She ended up back in his bed, using his chest as a pillow once more.

In fact she ended up in his house, his bed a lot. Especially as her chemo treatment continued, when she wasn’t in hospital he managed to coax her to his house.

“I enjoy our sleepovers” he teased making her bite back a smile and glare playfully.

“Technically you don’t even need sleep” she reminded and he rolled his eyes.

“Well I like sleeping with you” he murmured with a wink and she laughed.

For a little while, things seemed to be getting better. She felt happier and somewhat healthier. She was more confident in herself when Klaus was around, he helped her see her beauty and her worth. For a moment she truly believed that everything would be better.

But things could never just be so simple.

At the end of her chemotherapeutic treatment, she went into the hospital as expected. Klaus didn’t go with her this time, Y/n had told him that the appointment wasn’t for another week because she wanted good news as a surprise.

How she wished it was good news.

She knew as soon as she saw the nurses face. When she told her that the treatment hadn’t worked the way they hoped, she just nodded and asked how much she owed. They shook their heads and reminded her that it was ‘free’ and she went home.

All this had done was just confirm that she wouldn’t live even half of what everyone else would. A quarter if she was lucky.

Vampire blood couldn’t save her, magic couldn’t save her. She just had to accept it and live with it for however long.

That wasn’t even the hard part for her, the hard part was telling Klaus.

After her appointment she went back to his home. He wasn’t in but she went up to his room anyway, besides it was basically her soon now too.

She stared at the bed, god she loved that bed. It was like a cloud and when she had Klaus holding her tight aswell? She only hoped heaven would be similar.

She tapped her fingers against her arm as she thought. With a sigh she went and had a shower, got back out and stared at herself in the full length mirror that Klaus had in his bathroom for whatever reason. She smiled and laughed through her nose at the thought.

Y/n had a lot of clothes at Klaus’s now, she pulled on one of the only actual sets of underwear she owned and sat down on the bed. She adjusted the straps on her bra for a few minutes and fiddled with her panties so they sat how she wanted them to.

Klaus was home shortly after and made his way upstairs to his room. His breath got caught in his throat the second he saw her.

They teased eachother and made little jokes about sex, they both entertained the idea in their heads but he never actually thought she would be the one to make the move.

He didn’t know what the final push was that made her give in but he wouldn’t push it away.

Within seconds he was on that bed, gently pushing her down onto her back and hovering over her. His lips met hers in a deep passion that heated them both. Her legs were nudged apart so he could lay between them. She kissed him back with as much love as should had in an effort to make him understand how much he meant to her.

His hands stroked up her sides gently, holding her waist perfectly. His mouth pressed to hers repeatedly before moving down to her neck. Y/n’s eyes kept shut as she felt the soft tingle of every touch, her hands slid down and unbuckled his belt. She pulled it through the loops with a tug and pushed it aside.

Klaus pulled back and looked down at her hands, he gently took them in his hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the backs of them. “We don’t need to rush, we have all the time in the world” he whispered, the words made her eyes prick with tears but she held them back.

“I know…I just need you now” she told him quietly making him smile. He leant back down and kissed from her collarbone down. Y/n watched as goosebumps lined her skin and his hands slid her panties down her legs slowly so that she had the option to stop him.

He pressed soft kisses to her knees and then up along her thighs. His hands caressed her legs gently as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her pussy. Y/n’s body jerked away from his mouth at the unfamiliar feeling and he smiled.

“It’s alright love, I’ve got you” he told her before running his tongue through her folds and up to her clit. Her legs went over his shoulder as her hands went to his hair, feeling the soft curls as her body filled with heat. Klaus rest his head against one of her thighs so he could look up at her as his tongue flicked gently at her little button. Her brows pulled together and a soft sound escaped her as she felt his teasing.

“Klaus” she whispered softly, a slightly tremble in her voice as his fingers made their way up and gently traced her pussy lips. He hummed quietly in response, letting the gentle vibrations tickle her nerves pleasantly. The words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t utter them, not yet. She worried that he would want to know why she chose now to tell him, why now to give herself to him. And if he did find out why, everything would be ruined.

A shaky breath left her and she put her focus back on him. She pulled at his soft hair gently, telling him to give her more and he eagerly obliged. He slipped a finger into her halfway, moving it slowly to help ease the foreign feeling upon her. His tongue still licked at her clit, though now with a little more pressure.

Her back arched a little and a breathy moan left her lips making him push his finger in so it was knuckle deep before pulling it out with a slight curve. He watched her tighten around nothing as her hips rolled a little to try get his touch back inside her.

“Do you like how it feels love?” He murmured with a kiss to her clit. She nodded and pulled at his curls gently.

“I do” she whispered “I love it” she confirmed and he smirked a little.

“I love it too” he smiled and sucked her clit into his mouth making her squirm and moan his name. She inhaled deeply and leant her head back against the pillows and two fingers began to stretch her open as they pushed in as far as they could’ve.

She took soft but long breaths as her body filled with heat and her hips ground her pussy against his fingers as they curled into her and found her spot. Her back curved off the bed and he smiled to himself, happy to bring her pleasure.

His fingers met the thrusts of her hips and his tongue lay flat against her clit, letting her rub against it as quick as she needed. A soft cry left her and her pussy squeezed his fingers tightly, her thighs squished his head making him chuckle and suck on her softly. He pulled away before she could come undone and pulled her down the bed so her legs were at his hips instead.

He leant down to kiss her lips making her wrinkle her nose and dodge him.

“Sweetheart, you can’t deny my kisses now” he murmured as she wriggled.

“You can’t kiss me after that” she whined and he laughed

“You taste lovely” he teased

“I’m good not knowing” she laughed and he narrowed his eyes before attacking her with kisses all over her face making her squeal and push at his chest playfully. Eventually he caught her lips and had her succumb to the kiss. A soft moan escaped her and he smiled.

“Can I keep going love?” He asked softly as he used one of his hands to undo his jeans. She nodded kissed his jaw softly, her eyes fluttering as she felt his bare legs against hers. Her body tensed for a moment as his cock rest against her thigh and her hand gripped his shoulder. “I’ll be slow” he whispered, “don’t worry Y/n”.

She nodded again and tightened her legs round his waist. Klaus cupped the back of her head with one hand while the other guided his tip into her weeping hole. She whimpered at the stretch and he kissed her cheek, holding her close.

She nuzzled close and clung to him as he pushed another two inches into her and gently rocked in and out of her, getting another inch into her with each thrust until eventually she took all of him. He stayed they for a while, stroking away the little tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes and kissing her lips softly.

“It’s okay love” he told her gently, “you know I’ve got you”

She nodded weakly and kept her face in the crook of his neck as he began to move again. Soft little moans slipped past her lips and vibrated against his throat as he thrust into her slowly. His hips moved perfectly to stroke all the right places inside her.

Y/n’s hands held onto him tightly, so did her pussy.

Klaus kissed her skin gently as he rocked into her, his hand slid down between their bodies and he began to stroke her swollen clit. She let out a little cry and he grunted as his cock was squeezed.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” he murmured as he began to speed up. His eyes closed as he focused on pleasing her body, he could hear the repeated sound of his skin meeting hers along with the whimpers that tumbled past her mouth. He could feel her body growing tired and knew she wouldn’t be able to go on much more. He stroked her skin soothingly while his other hand rubbed quick circles on her pretty clit.

Her body tensed and she cried his name as her body let go around his. Klaus hugged her close as he thrust into her slowly, his hips came to a stop and she panted softly for air. He kissed her lips softly and pulled out. His hand stroked his cock quickly and he squeezed it tightly until he came onto her stomach. She moaned softly and tugged at him for a kiss.

His lips pressed to hers lovingly and rolled onto his back, pulling her ontop of him. Y/n smiled down at him and caressed his chest gently.

“I love you” she whispered and his heart warmed even more

“I love you too” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and sitting up. He stood up with her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and brought them both under the warm water.

“I can stand” she mumbled and he hummed but didn’t put her down. Instead he kept ahold of her as he helped clean them both off. She leant against him, her head in his neck as he wrapped a towel big enough to be a double duvet. He kissed her head and dried them off before setting her back on his bed. He pulled one of his shirts over her head and pulled some panties up her legs. “Thank you” Y/n whispered with a smile.

“Of course” he smiled back and laid beside her in his sleep pants. Klaus held her to him, his lips pulled up in contentment and he closed his eyes. He held her close they slept and woke up early to prepare breakfast.

Klaus wanted this relationship to be right. He wanted to treat her like he knew he could and show that he meant his love for her. So he went downstairs and cooked up some pancakes and bacon for his girl. He plated it up and poured them both drinks, he set the table for them and made his way back upstairs.

His movements faltered for a moment as he heard the sound of gagging. Hurriedly he made his way to the bathroom to see her heaving over the toilet. Quickly he kneeled beside her and caressed her back, her hand reached for tissue as she wiped her mouth, dumping the tissue ontop of her sock and flushing the toilet. He helped her up and wrapped his arms around her waits from behind as she brushed her teeth. She apologised quietly but he shook his head and kissed her cheek.

“I got you something love” he told Y/n softly before leading her downstairs. She looked up at him with a soft look in her eyes as he pulled out her seat at the table. She sat down and smiled as he pushed her in and sat opposite her with his food also.

“You know you didn’t have to?” She whispered softly and Klaus hummed

“Of course I did” he answered “I’ll always look after you”

Y/n’s smile wavered a little but she pulled back together. They ate their food and she helped him clean up. After they got dressed and he started to talk. When Klaus starts talking he doesn’t tend to stop until he absolutely has to.

Usually Y/n didn’t mind his rants and rambles but this time it was about them. He started going on about all the things they could do together and how once her cancer was gone then they would go wherever she wanted and he went on and on. After a while however, Y/n just couldn’t help it.

Her eyes had been watering for a full twenty minutes and as soon as the first tear fell, well it was like a waterfall. Klaus’s face dropped within seconds and his heart sunk. Panic flooded him and he quickly pulled her into his lap. He tried to calm her but had no idea what was wrong to begin with. Well not at first.

She tried to leave, push him away like she knew she should have at the start. He wouldn’t let her though. Not now. He had to block the exit, ended up yelling for her to tell him what was wrong. Instead of an actual answer she told him that she didn’t want to be with him, she began to say hurtful things. She needed him to not love her. Not if there was no hope of living. She didn’t want to leave him missing her, she would rather he hated her and was glad she was gone. Or at least that’s how she thought in that moment.

Klaus was never good when it came to emotions. He didn’t understand the sudden change of heart, the hatred that suddenly blossomed. But he knew something was wrong, she didn’t look angry or disgusted by him like she tried to claim she was. She just looked scared and borderline devastated.

He stared at her for a while and she didn’t dare say anything else. Klaud didn’t want to believe it to begin with. But it was the only thing that made sense. With slight hesitation he stepped to her, he overpowered her shoving hands and forced her into a hug. It only took a moment for her to collapse into it, cries shaking through her without a break.

“I’m gonna take you everywhere” he mumbled softly, kissing her smooth head continuously. She made a sound of distress and she shushed her gently “anywhere you want sweetheart. It doesn’t matter how long we have, I will not have you live it alone and in self-pity” he argued and she shook.

He picked her up and sat down with her on the sofa, he grabbed a world map and brought it over to her. “Come on love, you choose somewhere and I’ll get us in a plane, have you ever flown?” He asked, swallowing any tears or sadness down. Right now he just needed to keep her with him. He would go anywhere, do anything to ensure that she was happy for however long she had to live.

“We can’t just-“

“Yes we can. We will. We don’t even have to pack, I’ll buy you everything new from wherever we go. Just pick a continent, we’ll do a country from each and see how you’re feeling before we go again” he whispered, desperation seeping into his tone.

“You’re making it worse for yourself” she uttered, wiping her tears.

“It’ll be a hundred times worse if I’m not with you” he argued, a tear dropping from his lashes.

They both went quiet and let the situation fully dawn on them for a little while. Finally Y/n glanced to the map. “I’ve always heard Europe was pretty” she mused quietly and Klaus wiped his eyes, pulling a smile onto his face as he pulled her close and kissed the side of her head.

“It’s beautiful. I’ll call for a private jet and we shall leave in a few hours. Would you like to tell your family that you’ll be away?” He asked but she shook her head no. “Then please, just trust me my love?”

“I do…and I’m sorry for-“

“Don’t be. Just know that I love you and that I will always have you no matter what” he told her, a kiss to her lips to seal the promise.

“I love you” she uttered, they repeated it back to one another as she made her way into his lap and rest her face in his neck.

Everything else was forgotten.

The doppelgänger, hybrids, Salvatore’s, Mikaelsons. They would all have to wait.