by Hondo Jinx
Dan laughed and took a long pull of ale from the ogre skull. From nearby campfires came a carnal chorus of ribald laughter, passionate moaning, and slapping flesh. “This is the life,” Dan said as Nadia took him in her mouth. “Fighting and fucking and sleeping under the stars.”
Nadia gave his balls a squeeze and started licking his shaft with long, slow passes of her tongue, like she was enjoying an ice cream cone.
Ula rose, pulled her fur bikini bottoms to one side, and straddled Dan, impaling herself on his erection. The hobgoblin growled with pleasure, rubbing her breasts in Dan’s face and squeezing him with the muscles of her tight channel.
Nadia laughed, licking up his balls over the base of his manhood and beyond, judging by the way Ula was squirming.
Dan ran his hands up and down Ula’s fantastic body and gave her firm ass a slap.
Across the fire, Agatha stared wide-eyed, biting her lip and squeezing her legs together.
Dan supposed it wasn’t fair, teasing the beautiful blacksmith like this, but he would set things right soon enough. If he was going to make Agatha his woman, though, it wouldn’t be like this, in a wild foursome at the heart of a massive orgy. Not the first time, anyhow.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. Nor would Agatha object.
But he had gotten pretty good at judging what women wanted, and he knew that the cyclops would much prefer her first time to be private, intimate, and, regardless of her size and powerful muscles, gentle. He would provide those things—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her first.
A short time later, when Nadia stopped licking and squeezing and rose to her feet, Fup sidled up beside Agatha. The half-orc mercenary leaned down and whispered into Agatha’s ear, and the pink-skinned beauty batted him away with a distracted backhand.
Dan laughed, reached for his ale, and realized that Nadia had shifted into her fused, half-wolf form. She pushed Ula aside and shoved a firm breast into Dan’s mouth.
Sucking a furry boob was odd—for about one-tenth of a second. Then his lips locked onto her familiar nipple, and the experience instantly went from a little strange to completely erotic.
Nadia’s muzzle leaned close, her breath panting hot against his ear. His hands smoothed over her firm body, the feel of her exciting him in a new way.
“Well, barbarian, what do you say?” Nadia whispered huskily. “Do you still find me attractive?”
Nadia’s words were characteristically bold and playful, but Dan didn’t miss the faint whimper within the whisper. Nor did he need to hear the whimper to understand Nadia’s vulnerability. He knew that she had wanted this moment for a long time. Wanted it and feared it.
They had talked about it several times, but Nadia always made jokes and disguised her feelings. Or tried to, anyway.
To Dan, it was clear that his wife wanted him to love her not only in human form but also in her fused form. But just as clearly, the idea scared the shit out of her. She was probably afraid that he wouldn’t find her attractive, just like she had once feared his even seeing her in this form.
He realized that she was trembling.
Time to put this shit to bed once and for all, Dan thought.
“You know I do,” he said, staring into her brilliant green eyes.
She smiled, but if anything, the smile only made her look more vulnerable.
He couldn’t crush her insecurities simply by treating her as a woman. He needed to deal with her wolf.
Nadia faked a laugh. “I’ll bet that’s what you tell all the—oh!”
Dan shot to his feet, spun Nadia around, and bent her over. “Talk is cheap,” he said. “Let me show you.”
Pushing her down onto all fours, he got onto his knees behind her and seized her furry hips.
“Doggy style, then?” Nadia laughed.
“Shut up,” Dan growled. “No more jokes.”
He grabbed Nadia’s tail by the root and plunged his manhood into her soaked and swollen sex.
Nadia yipped and struggled. He buried himself to the hilt and held her there. He didn’t thrust or pull back. He just held her tail and furry thigh, locking her in place, and let her squirm.
And squirm she did, whimpering as she struggled, alternately trying to pull away and then shoving her hips back into him, impaling herself on his throbbing erection. She twisted her wolfish head around and stared at him, her green eyes burning with lust. “Fuck me hard,” she growled. “Show me my place.”
Dan knew this was more than mere dirty talk for Nadia. Just as she needed Dan to show her that he loved all of her, her wolf needed him to thoroughly dominate her. “You beautiful, broken wolf,” he said. Then, grabbing Nadia by the scruff of the neck, he slammed his full length into her fast and hard, pummeling her as she snarled with pleasure.
Ula appeared, naked and lovely, and hugged her furry sister-wife around the head and neck. The warrior woman’s embrace was sweet and supportive, not sexual—but this show of love between his wives only fueled Dan’s excitement, and he pounded away, jarring both women with the force of his powerful thrusts.
A few seconds later, Nadia tensed, already shuddering on the brink of completion.
Usually, when Dan felt one of his wives reach the edge, he would back off and toy with her, denying instant gratification to draw out her pleasure and ultimately build toward an even more explosive climax.
But not tonight.
Tonight was about taking Nadia in her fused form for all the world to see. It was a new union, a new bond, a thing she needed, and a thing he wanted. He was her alpha, she was his wild and beautiful mate, and he wouldn’t prolong things with bullshit games.
This was fucking, pure and simple. So he slammed into her harder than ever.
Nadia’s sex tightened, squeezing him, and as a powerful orgasm roared through her, she pointed her nose skyward and split the night with a long, warbling cry that married a wolf’s howl with the obscene screams of a woman in ecstasy.
The moment was twisted and primitive and somehow taboo, and Dan’s roar joined her howl as he exploded inside her.
As he pumped her full of hot semen, a gust of wind raced past then whipped back around, caressing Dan in a whirlwind of laughter. “Seeeeeeed!” the wind cried out gleefully, and his blue-haired sylph appeared for the first time all day.
“Nice to see you, Zamora,” Dan said, pulling free of Nadia’s quivering loins.
“Don’t move, Master!” Zamora begged. “You, too, Nadia. Please stay just like that. Mm, yes.” And the horny sylph got down on all fours and dipped her head between them, licking and sucking, her shapely ass twitching happily back and forth as she cleaned them.
Dan gave the sweet, twitching ass a smack then pointed to Ula. “Don’t you go anywhere, warrior wife. After Zamora finishes her snack, I’m going to bend you over that log and pound the shit out of you.”
Ula’s yellow eyes flashed with excitement then narrowed in mock fierceness, and she started talking shit about his deel like she had back when she was trying to get him to mount her.
“Keep talking shit, Ula,” he laughed, “and I’ll fill up that filthy mouth of yours.”
Then, as Ula redoubled her shit-talking, Nadia moaned and quivered, and Zamora slurped greedily, Dan turned matter-of-factly to Agatha, who sat with her mouth hanging open and her eye shining with desire, and said, “What do you say, Agatha? You excited to see your family tomorrow?”
19
Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
The hour was late.
Holly sat within the Tower of Knowledge. The door was barred.
Tree of Trees sat open on the table before her, but she was too distracted to read. The wand of enchanted missiles lay like a bookmark in the valley between the pages, and Vine Caster leaned against her chair.
She was no warrior, but if it came to fighting, she wanted to die with the sword of her ancestors in her hand.
Come home, Dan, she thought. Come home and make things right again.
Life had spiraled quietly out of control over the weeks since her dispute with Thelia. Yes, quietly—no one was calling for her head, and Thelia was still outwardly respectful. They even shared the same bed each night, sleeping back to back, each woman listening to the other breathe in the darkness.
Not that Holly was sleeping much.
She was far too worried.
Her power had silently evaporated. Red elves at all levels still bowed and spoke courteous words to her, but she did not miss the shallowness of those bows or the hollow tone of those courteous phrases. Nor did she miss the red elves’ petty rebellions: the lax salute of soldiers, the day-old bread brought up for breakfast, the mocking laughter of the small, red children whenever Holly crossed the courtyard.
The toddlers frightened her most of all. A short time ago, she would have dismissed them as laughably tiny, but how big they seemed now that her own child was growing within her. These malicious little red elves were only child-sized to her because she was an adult; to her son, they would be giants. Cruel, red, mocking giants.
If we live that long.
But she pushed this thought from her mind. They would survive. They had to. The prophecy said her son would become the only person capable of saving the grove.
The prophecy did not, however, guarantee that her son would succeed. Nor even did it guarantee that he would live till birth.
He will, though, she thought. We will. And her hand went compulsively to the scroll she now carried with her at all times. Death whisper always at her fingertips.
Oh, great Est eel Est, she prayed, don’t let it come to that.
But how could she expect the great delving tree to help her when she had done so little to help the Root of Roots. She visited Est eel Est each morning and cast restore tree and restore moss, and both the tree and the moss were healing… slowly.
The demolition of the keep’s roof, however, had slowed to a crawl.
No one refused to work. They just didn’t seem to accomplish much.
This was a silent rebellion.
Meanwhile, the rest of the fortress thrummed with excitement. Red elves cheered their True Matriarch and her constant bodyguard, Parus, who had over the course of just two weeks turned several thousand raw recruits into a vicious and orderly army ready to fight and die for their matriarch. Thelia crackled with regal enthusiasm, her every gesture radiating triumph—and, toward Holly, thinly veiled contempt.
Holly was not alone, however. Not entirely.
She had cultivated friendship with Bannon’s widows, gone out of her way to strengthen ties with Jorbin Ateel and his gnomes, and had at least tried to connect with the green elves, though whenever she spoke with them, the green elves eyed her warily.
This wasn’t enough. Holly could not afford to remain passive. She had to protect herself, her child, and her race.
She had to go on the offensive. For this, she needed help. Which is why—
Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, a knock came at the door.
She rose from the table, slipped the wand into her pocket, and went to the door, where she hesitated before lifting the bar.
Who waited beyond the door? The person whom she had summoned? Or a dozen sneering red elves with daggers in hand?
She opened the door and sighed with relief. “Tatiana, come in, please.”
The pretty she-panther followed Holly into the room and watched as she barred the door.
“What is it, my lady?” Tatiana asked.
“Let me turn that question on you,” Holly said. “What do you think is wrong?”
“I couldn’t begin to say, my lady, but if there is anything that I—”
“Stop,” Holly said. “You’re no longer in the Jungle Kingdom. Let us speak honestly, as friends.”
Tatiana smiled. “In that case, I know your fears because I share them. Lady Thelia and General Parus have changed. All of the red elves have changed.”
“Yes,” Holly said, feeling a wave of relief.
“And before you ask,” Tatiana said, “I am yours, no matter what happens. You have always been kind to me. When I joined the caravan, you were the first to treat me in a civil manner. I believe that you knew all along that I wasn’t actually a princess.”
Holly smiled. “I had my suspicions.”
“And yet you treated me like an equal,” Tatiana said, “even after my secret was revealed—and I know that others have treated me better thanks to the respect you’ve shown me.”
“I am fond of you, Tatiana.”
“And I am fond of you, Holly,” the she-panther said. She straightened. “As Thelia and Parus will learn, if they ever try to harm you.”
“Thank you,” Holly said. “I knew that I could depend on you.”
“No matter what happens,” Tatiana said, “I will stand by your side. And if they come for you, I will defend you with my dying breath.”
They embraced. Holly filled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was relieved to know that Tatiana would fight by her side if need be. But on the other hand, the fact that Tatiana had understood and shared her fears and spoken so pointedly, without prompting, about the possibility that Thelia and Parus might attack, destroyed any comforting notions Holly might have previously entertained, any idea that she might have imagined the threat in some absurd flight of dark fancy.
“You are a good friend,” Holly said, reaching under the table and coming back out with an item that made Tatiana’s eyes glow. “For you. For your loyalty. I suppose, technically, it belongs to my husband, but I know that he would want you to have it.” And she handed Tatiana the staff of smiting, a fifteen-thousand-gold-piece weapon of magically enhanced accuracy and power.
“Really? For me? Thank you, Holly!” Tatiana accepted the staff with a huge smile. For a moment, she studied the beautiful weapon, which glowed faintly with enchantment. In a flash, the she-panther whirled, striking and blocking, thrusting and parrying, smashing and sweeping. “It’s perfect. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful, so amazing.” Then she laughed, sounding self-conscious. “Truthfully, I’ve never actually owned much of anything. But even if I had, this staff would be my prized possession. Thank you!”
“You are most welcome,” Holly said, “and thank you for your friendship. Now, I’m hoping you might go and fetch someone for me.”
“Of course,” Tatiana said, and a short time later, she had departed on the errand.
Several minutes after that, another knock sounded at the door.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Holly said, smiling at Freckles and Nadia’s three urchins.
“Of course, Lady Holly,” Freckles said with a little bow. “As Nadia would say, you are pack. You can count on us.”
“Thank you,” Holly said. “That makes me very happy. Please, bar the door behind you. I would hate to be interrupted. We have important matters to discuss.”
Badger blinked his dark, beady eyes, shrugged, and barred the door.
“Begging your pardon, Lady Holly,” Toad said, “you don’t look so good.” The squat little half-orc tried to muster her surprisingly pretty smile, faltered, and ended up offering a wriggling expression that made her look like she had stomach troubles.
Which was appropriate enough, given the circumstances.
“Don’t be rude, Toad,” Goldfinch, the thin, blond human girl said, and shoved her friend.
Holly forced a laugh. “That’s okay, dear. Toad wasn’t being rude. She was being truthful. And right now, I need as much truth as I can muster. And you are no doubt correct, Toad. I can’t imagine that I do look well. I am… I have been… deeply concerned.”
“It’s those fucking red elves, right?” Badger said. Had his voice grown squeakier, too? Since becoming a wererat, the halfling hard-ass had grown increasingly smaller and, well, rat-like, an unfortunate state of affairs for a young man who clearly already resented his diminutive stature.
But Nadia, wise and nurturing as ever, had put the boy to good
use, keeping him busy and no doubt keeping his mind off these changes to a degree.
Now Holly hoped to do the same.
“Yes,” Holly said. “It’s the red elves.” She was seated behind the great table, which was covered in books. Now she leaned forward, looking at each of them in turn, both to gauge their character and to impress her seriousness. “Can I trust all of you with something important?”
“You’re Mother Wolf’s best friend,” Badger said. “Like Freckles said, that makes you pack.”
“Pack,” Goldfinch echoed.
Everyone looked at Toad, who gave a little jump. “Oh, um—yeah. Pack!”
“Thank you,” Holly said. “Nadia is indeed my best friend and my sister-wife. You,” she said, smiling at the street urchins, “are her children.” She turned to the pretty half-elf. “And you, Freckles, are very special to her, like a little sister.”
“Pack,” Badger repeated.
“Yes,” Holly said. “We are pack. Therefore, I will speak plainly. Strange things are afoot in the fortress. And perhaps more than strange. Perhaps all is well. Perhaps not. But I am isolated, and the red elves are cautious around me. I need to know what is happening in the castle. Will you be my eyes and ears?”
All four smiled and nodded.
“It would be our honor, my lady,” Freckles said, giving a little curtsey—a ghost of her previous life as a merchant’s serving slave.
“Fuck those cocky red elves,” Badger said. “Tell us what to do.”
Holly did, and sent them on their way, feeling a bit better. At least now, she wouldn’t be deaf and blind to what was happening around her.
Again she tried to read, but again she was too distracted. A short time later—a much shorter time than she would have expected—Tatiana returned with a red elf soldier she had taken off guard duty. Holly didn’t know him personally, but she recognized him as a man who had come with them all the way from Fire Ridge.
The man shook free of the she-panther’s grip, glanced dismissively at the towering bookshelves, and glared at Holly. “What’s the meaning of this? I’m on guard duty. If General Parus hears I left my post, he’ll have my head.”
