over his chest. Then lower. She
stroked him and he stiffened. “It is the only way,” she
purred.
I yelled. “No!”
But she led him over to the pallet which had
been made up by the fire. She urged his powerful body to lie back.
He closed his eyes as she mounted him. Her face was a cruel mask of
triumph. How had I not seen she was evil? How did Marcus not
see?
The crack of lightning came without warning.
It sliced into the ground several feet from where Cassiah was on
the verge of taking Marcus into her body. I blinked as my eyes
sought to recover from the flash of light. Standing there, with a
furious expression, was a small boy.
The effect of his sudden appearance was
dramatic. Every watching member of the Dark Claws gasped and
dropped to his knees, head bowed. Cassiah’s face went slack with
empty horror. Marcus toppled her and rose to his knees. “Great
Seer,” he said.
“Great Seer,” the Dark Claws
repeated.
I stared. Somehow I had expected The Seer to
be wizened and homely, a sort of underworld Santa Claus. Not this
cherubic childlike being.
But when he spoke his deep voice thundered
with ancient knowledge. He pointed a small finger as the cowering
witch. “Cassiah. You have betrayed the sacred duties of witchcraft.
You will answer for your crime.” The witch let out a high wail of
anguish and dropped into the dirt. “Mercy,” she begged.
But The Seer was unforgiving. “You do not
deserve mercy.” He turned to Marcus’s kneeling form. “Marcus of the
Dark Claws, the witch had the foulest of intentions. She meant to
exile your child’s spirit into oblivion and take you for herself.”
Another wail from Cassiah. “She will be punished.”
The Seer faced me. The blue eyes in his small
face were kindly. “Jessa, the last werewolf bride of the Caprese
line and daughter of a lost demon. Your body carries a boy child
who will bind us all together.” He nodded. “Raise him well.” With
another crack of lightning he disappeared, and Cassiah with
him.
I sank to my knees, trembling. Kiko returned
to his human form and set about extinguishing the fire. One of the
brethren placed a comforting hand on my back. But I desperately
needed Marcus.
Then he was there, lifting me in his strong
arms and carrying me to the privacy of our cabin. There were no
words as he undressed me, only a ferocious urgency to bury himself
inside my slippery center. I came virtually the instant he entered
me, arching my back and scratching his chest. Despite the heaviness
of my pregnancy body, he rolled me easily on top of him and urged
me to ride as hard as I could bear. I scratched his chest more
deeply and licked the blood from the small wounds, feeling a
furious possessiveness in the act. As he climaxed he screamed my
name. We rocked together until the orgasm spiraled to
conclusion.
As I climbed from him I felt a flood of warmth
between my legs. I knew it was too heavy to be leaked semen.
“Marcus,” I said. “Our son is coming.”
Many painful hours later our child slept in my
arms. He had screamed his fierce way into the world shaking his
tiny hands. But he quieted when his father held him and suckled
greedily at my breast when it was offered. Marcus rested his head
on my shoulder.
“My queen,” he said. “My love.”
I kissed his forehead. “Forever.” Gradually he
fell into a happy sleep. Our son issued a tiny sigh. He would need
a name. I settled back happily into the bed pillow, not minding the
hurt which burned between my legs as the baby had ripped his way
into the world. I was the last werewolf bride. I was a mate and
mother. I was complete.
***
About the author : Sage Domini's first
written story was about a young star who fell from the sky and
needed the help of a special girl to find his place in this vast
universe. That was a few (dozen) years ago. Though Sage has moved
on to racier themes, she remains fascinated by the simple concept
that we all belong somewhere...with someone.
stroked him and he stiffened. “It is the only way,” she
purred.
I yelled. “No!”
But she led him over to the pallet which had
been made up by the fire. She urged his powerful body to lie back.
He closed his eyes as she mounted him. Her face was a cruel mask of
triumph. How had I not seen she was evil? How did Marcus not
see?
The crack of lightning came without warning.
It sliced into the ground several feet from where Cassiah was on
the verge of taking Marcus into her body. I blinked as my eyes
sought to recover from the flash of light. Standing there, with a
furious expression, was a small boy.
The effect of his sudden appearance was
dramatic. Every watching member of the Dark Claws gasped and
dropped to his knees, head bowed. Cassiah’s face went slack with
empty horror. Marcus toppled her and rose to his knees. “Great
Seer,” he said.
“Great Seer,” the Dark Claws
repeated.
I stared. Somehow I had expected The Seer to
be wizened and homely, a sort of underworld Santa Claus. Not this
cherubic childlike being.
But when he spoke his deep voice thundered
with ancient knowledge. He pointed a small finger as the cowering
witch. “Cassiah. You have betrayed the sacred duties of witchcraft.
You will answer for your crime.” The witch let out a high wail of
anguish and dropped into the dirt. “Mercy,” she begged.
But The Seer was unforgiving. “You do not
deserve mercy.” He turned to Marcus’s kneeling form. “Marcus of the
Dark Claws, the witch had the foulest of intentions. She meant to
exile your child’s spirit into oblivion and take you for herself.”
Another wail from Cassiah. “She will be punished.”
The Seer faced me. The blue eyes in his small
face were kindly. “Jessa, the last werewolf bride of the Caprese
line and daughter of a lost demon. Your body carries a boy child
who will bind us all together.” He nodded. “Raise him well.” With
another crack of lightning he disappeared, and Cassiah with
him.
I sank to my knees, trembling. Kiko returned
to his human form and set about extinguishing the fire. One of the
brethren placed a comforting hand on my back. But I desperately
needed Marcus.
Then he was there, lifting me in his strong
arms and carrying me to the privacy of our cabin. There were no
words as he undressed me, only a ferocious urgency to bury himself
inside my slippery center. I came virtually the instant he entered
me, arching my back and scratching his chest. Despite the heaviness
of my pregnancy body, he rolled me easily on top of him and urged
me to ride as hard as I could bear. I scratched his chest more
deeply and licked the blood from the small wounds, feeling a
furious possessiveness in the act. As he climaxed he screamed my
name. We rocked together until the orgasm spiraled to
conclusion.
As I climbed from him I felt a flood of warmth
between my legs. I knew it was too heavy to be leaked semen.
“Marcus,” I said. “Our son is coming.”
Many painful hours later our child slept in my
arms. He had screamed his fierce way into the world shaking his
tiny hands. But he quieted when his father held him and suckled
greedily at my breast when it was offered. Marcus rested his head
on my shoulder.
“My queen,” he said. “My love.”
I kissed his forehead. “Forever.” Gradually he
fell into a happy sleep. Our son issued a tiny sigh. He would need
a name. I settled back happily into the bed pillow, not minding the
hurt which burned between my legs as the baby had ripped his way
into the world. I was the last werewolf bride. I was a mate and
mother. I was complete.
***
About the author : Sage Domini's first
written story was about a young star who fell from the sky and
needed the help of a special girl to find his place in this vast
universe. That was a few (dozen) years ago. Though Sage has moved
on to racier themes, she remains fascinated by the simple concept
that we all belong somewhere...with someone.
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