The Mage's Passion

by Reed James

  His cum stayed inside, my body absorbing it for my magic. I turned and peered around at the small courtyard as the dogs bayed louder. My pussy clenched. I was still so horny. I didn't need a pack of stupid mutts ruining the mood.

  “They're on the hunt,” Thrak frowned, stepping away from me.

  “They're just dogs,” I moaned. “Not wolves. I bet a local merchant went out fox hunting with his hounds and they're just enthusiastic about returning. Come back here. Let me suck your cock clean.”

  Thrak's kilt covered his cock again, but it still bulged the front as he moved towards the courtyard's entrance. I licked my lips and moved after him. I wanted more cum. I was still horny. Two orgasms wasn't enough for me tonight.

  “Faoril,” Thrak groaned as I squeezed his ass. He spun around and seized my shoulders. “This is serious.”

  “So is me sucking your cock clean of my ass,” I moaned, rubbing at his dick through the kilt.

  Thrak groaned. “Faoril, stop.”

  “This is my cock,” I purred.

  A black shape leaped over the courtyard's low wall. I blinked in shock, my hand squeezing down on the cock. I needed to react, but I was so horny. All I could think about was Thrak's dick as the shape leaped at me, snarling in rage.

  I had a fleeting glimpse of a hairless, black body before the beast slammed into me. Pain flared across my shoulders and chest. The thing bit me. I crashed into the ground hard and screamed as the monster savaged my flesh.

  ~ * ~

  Thrak

  The dog-like monster tore into Faoril's flesh. Her blood spurted, splattering the hairless, obsidian hide of the beast. I bellowed, the rage lurking in my depths. It called to me, begging me to embrace the anger and kill.

  My mage had been hurt.

  I fought off the madness of the berserker rage as I lunged at the beast. I seized the beast's head in my bare hands, ripping its muzzle from my poor Faoril. The creature snarled and twisted its body, trying to break from my strong grip.

  I hefted the body high and then slammed it down hard on my knee. The beast yelped in pain as bones cracked. Its kicking, rear legs went limp. I seized the beast by the neck, hauled it up, and stared into its yellow eyes.

  “Please, do not hurt me,” the creature said in a far-too-human voice.

  “You hurt her!”

  My arms bulged. I squeezed my hands together. The beast whimpered, his front legs clawing at my chest. His yelps turned into whines of pain as bones cracked. His neck twisted, and a shudder seized its body.

  I threw the corpse to the side. The rage struggled to seize control as I stared at Faoril. She whimpered, blood pooling out of the savage teeth marks across her shoulders and breasts. Crimson draped her.

  I fought off the madness. She had to be protected. I couldn't lose myself in the fury. That wouldn't save Faoril.

  “Hold on,” I told her, my hands gentle as I lifted her dying body. So much blood poured out of her. “You'll be fine.”

  Faoril tried to speak, but only blood came out of her mouth. Her eyes shut. The rage was swamped by an even stronger emotion—fear.

  ~ * ~

  Xerathalasia

  The serving girl's pussy filled my mouth with tangy musk. I drank it down as I shuddered beneath her body. Her tongue dug through my cunt, driving me towards my fifth orgasm. I shoved my tongue deep into her snatch.

  Dogs howled.

  My ears twitched, and I froze. They howled again, braying louder, approaching the inn. Only those weren't dog howls. I had heard similar, almost-intelligent baying in the Deorc Forest. I had hunted creatures that made sounds like that—barguest.

  The serving girl yelped as I pushed her off of my body and gained my feet. “What? I was so close.”

  “Find a room and barricade yourself in it,” I barked as I raced for the stairs.

  Barguest were shapeshifters, able to change from a hairless, black dog to an equally black-skinned human. They were intelligent and cunning. Most delighted in blood and mayhem. They lurked on the fringes, picking off the weak until they were driven away by the local mobs or crusading knights.

  Or elvish hunters.

  As I headed up the stairs, a topless Angela, gripping her kite shield and sword, came down the stairs, trailed by a slim, elfin man with midnight-black skin and silvery hair. His leather pants were loose on his slim figure, his hands holding them up as he followed Angela. For a moment, a hot wave of lust for the man went through me.

  I shook my head. Why would a man attract me?

  “You hear them?” Angela asked.

  “Yes,” I shouted. “I need my bow. They're barguest. They can shape change into humans. They're intelligent and dangerous.”

  “Right,” Angela shouted as we passed each other.

  ~ * ~

  Acolyte Sophia

  I broke away from Jathibiyya, the pair of us panting from our many orgasms. The crowd cheered around us. I smiled at them and I was riding too high on my cums to care that most of them staring at me were men.

  They weren't trying to touch me.

  “You could be a belly dancer,” Jathibiyya purred in her delightful accent.

  “Well, I wouldn't mind a more private lesson upstairs,” I told her, my hand sliding down her thigh. Outside, dogs bayed and barked.

  Jathibiyya laughed.

  A topless Angela burst into the common room, brandishing her weapon. “We're under attack.”

  “What?” I gasped as Angela rushed through the common room towards the inn's entrance, followed by a rather beautiful figure. I flushed when I realized it wasn't a woman I stared at, but an elfin, black-skinned man. “Is that a changeling?”

  I bent down and seized my robe and belt. I pulled on the robe and fished out my magical dagger from the pouch. It had been enchanted by the priestesses of my temple to glow when danger neared. Right now, it shone bright pink.

  “Slata's cunt,” I groaned. I hopped off the table and made to head after Angela.

  “Sophia!” Thrak roared.

  I stopped, turning to see Thrak and—

  “Faoril,” I shouted in horror. Her entire body was covered in blood. I shoved my hand into my pouch, pulling out a healing potion. There was no time for me to work my magic. She was badly savaged.

  I hoped she wasn't dead.

  The dogs baying grew louder. Glass shattered. People screamed as large, vaguely dog shapes burst into the common room, snarling and attacking. The patrons jostled me in their panicked flight. I gripped the healing potion, vainly striving to reach Faoril.

  A large man struck me. I fell forward onto my left hand and knees. I kept a tight grip on the vial in my right. It was my last healing potion. I couldn't lose it. I hadn't even thought to make more than the three I had been given. It was stupid. I hadn't made more because I could cast the spell.

  Another person jostled me. I gasped, my side aching as I sprawled onto the floor. The monsters howled through the room. Tables and chairs crashed. The screaming grew louder. My heart thudded. I looked up, searching for Thrak through the panic.

  I had to get to Faoril.

  “Sophia!” Thrak bellowed.

  A man groaned in pain and crashed to the floor before me, his face bloodied. Thrak stepped out of the crowd, Faoril cradled in his arms. He leaned down, setting her before me. I pulled the stopper from the vial and dumped it into her mouth.

  “Please don't be dead,” I whispered.

  Thrak let out a bellowing roar and punched the leaping monster in the face. It crashed back into a table. He strode into the fray, joining Angela in fighting the monsters. I stared down at Faoril, the last of the milky potion poured out into her lips.

  “Come on,” I whispered.

  Faoril groaned.

  ~ * ~

  Knight-Errant Angela

  The barguest crashed into my kite shield. The beast snarled, foamy spittle flying over my shield and splashing across my naked breasts. I thrust with my sword, stabbing through the beast's chest. It fell to the
ground, transforming into a black-skinned woman, blood gushing from between her breasts as she died.

  Thrak bellowed and rushed past me. He punched a barguest in the head. Bones snapped as the beast fell limp to the ground. The orc stepped up beside me, his swarthy body smeared in blood. I hoped it wasn't his.

  “Faoril?” I asked.

  “Badly wounded. With Sophia.”

  I threw a look over my shoulder. Sophia knelt on the ground beside the blood-smeared Faoril. “Damn. We could use her magic.”

  I raised my shield. A barguest's teeth scraped along the wood. I heaved the beast back with my shield and then swung, catching the monster on the flank. It snarled in pain and jumped back. Baleful eyes fixed on me. It howled.

  More answered from outside.

  An arrow struck the howling barguest in the throat. The creature fell dead. “Thanks, Xera.”

  “I hear more outside,” she shouted. “They're converging. The pact must have broken up to search the town for us.”

  “And who sent them?” I demanded, stabbing my blade into the flank of the next.

  “Does it matter?” Xera asked, as she fired her bow and caught a barguest leaping through the shattered window in the eye. “There are another twenty or thirty racing towards us. We'll be overwhelmed.”

  Outside the inn, barguest howled and the next wave poured in through broken windows and shattered doors. I swallowed as the tide of black bodies raced towards Thrak and me. I set my shield and prepared to show these beasts how a Knight fights.

  ~ * ~

  Lady Delilah

  Black Hound's pack howled as it tore through the town. I smiled as I listened to the baying. Though I stood on a hill on the outskirts of the town which gave me a great vantage on Lor-Khev, I could not see the Merchant's Rest Inn. I knew Angela would deal with the pack. And if Chaun was whom I believed him to be, he would aid them and win her trust.

  I smiled, my heart beating with excitement.

  The flap of wings drew my attention to the sky. I frowned. An erinyes swooped overhead, a fiery spear clutched in her hand. Why was Incessae here? What business did Slata's vengeful daughter have...?

  “That bitch,” I snarled. Why had I not anticipated Slata's petty vengeance?

  The erinyes swooped down towards the center of town and the Merchant's Rest inn. Anger burned through me. I fought to control it. Angela would have to face Black Hound's pack and an angry erinyes.

  Would she survive both?

  Chapter Forty-Three: Hunting Hounds

  The Erinyes Incessae – Lor-Khev, The Magery of Thosi

  The howls of the rampaging barguest filled the night over the small town of Lor-Khev in southern Thosi. The Lesh-Ke Mountains loomed to the south, a wall of black that occulted the brilliant, starry sky I flew through.

  My eyes scanned the town. My prey lay in here. The target of Mother's vengeance. I glided over the town on black-feathered wings, gripping my spear of fire in my hand. Already Angela of the Knights Deute, bastard descendant of the despicable High King Peter, had defeated my sister Injuriae, forcing her to submit and pleasure the bitch.

  I hissed through my teeth. We were the three erinyes, the avenging daughters of Slata.

  My eyes scanned the chaos. The barguest, hideous shapechangers who shifted from coal-black humans to coal-black hounds, surged through the streets, converging on an inn. Their baying howls filled the sky with excitement. The pack had scented their prey.

  We hunted the same creature. I had no idea what fortuity led me to this moment, but I would seize it and deliver upon the knight all of Mother's fury.

  ~ * ~

  Knight-Errant Angela

  The next wave of barguests burst into the common room of the Merchant's Rest. I set my kite shield as I stood beside Thrak, braced to take the flood of attackers. Behind us, Sophia healed the badly wounded Faoril while Xera fired her arrows into the mob. The barguests' hairless, black bodies surged at us, yellow eyes burning.

  They howled and snarled.

  More answered from outside.

  Their attack could not be a coincidence. Someone wanted me dead. They had sent the warlock Fireeyes to kill me, and now they had sent a pack of barguest. I had no idea why. I was a knight, the daughter of a minor baron and his second wife. I was no one important.

  A barguest slammed into my shield. The force of his body pushed me back, my bare feet sliding across the rough, wooden floorboards. I ignored the pain of a splinter shoved into the sole of my foot. I threw my shield to the side, my naked breasts heaving, and swung my sword, cutting through the barguest's neck and slamming the dying beast to the ground.

  Beside me, Thrak fought without weapon, slamming his thick fists into the barguests and breaking their bones. I was lucky to be in our rooms upstairs with the bard Chaun when the attack happened, able to grab my shield and sword. My pussy still burned from the lust his song had stirred in me and the excitement of a fight sent more juices trickling down my thighs.

  I recovered from my swing. A barguest leaped away me from in fright. I pivoted. Pain flared up my leg. That damned splinter. I stumbled, my body flinching from the pain. I was unable to stand properly. The barguest, sensing my weakness, found its spine and crashed into the edge of my shield. I went down, the beast on top of me.

  “You smell delicious,” snarled the barguest, his voice far too human to come out of the toothy muzzle. His claws scratched at my naked thighs. “I don't know whether to eat you or fuck you.”

  A red cock emerged from beneath him, glistening and hard. I tried to heave him off of me, but his weight crushed my shield to my breasts. His saliva dripped down onto my face. There was a primal attractiveness about him. If I hadn't been suffering from the bard's lusty song, I doubt I would have let out that wanton moan.

  “I think you want to be fucked.” The barguest's words were surprisingly intelligible through his bestial jaw. “Yes, I can smell it. Just spread those thighs.”

  “Go fuck Illth's poisoned cunt,” I spat and struggled to move my sword arm and swing.

  A strumming lyre echoed through the room and a beautiful tenor sang. There were no words. It was a pure melody that reached through the room. The barguest atop me froze. A shudder ran through his body. His triangular, dog-like ears rose from his head. He twitched and let out a whine. His gaze shot across the room to Chaun.

  The ebony-skinned changeling stood naked, his body lithe and graceful, his face beautiful, with silvery hair and long, pointed ears like Xera's. He held a wooden lyre; a red stain impregnated the body and delicate gold inlays formed beautiful patterns. His dark fingers danced across the strings as he sang, striding boldly towards the barguest.

  They all faced him, their tongues lolling, enraptured by his song.

  “The seducing bard,” Sophia said, her cheeks crimson as she gazed at Chaun.

  A flush of heat went through me. Chaun was beyond handsome. He was beautiful, his face delicate, though not feminine, and his body moved with an agile grace as he strode through the room, the barguest turning to face him. He moved like Xera did, innately perfect.

  “Damn,” I muttered. I had been close to fucking him before the barguest acted. Sophia was right. He was the seducing bard. He was trained at the Bardic College of Az. They were supposed to affect people's emotions.

  Like making them horny.

  “Pater's cock,” I groaned. “No wonder everyone got horny.”

  “I will lead them to the edge of town and then set them on each other,” Chaun said. “I cannot handle more.”

  Barguests howled outside, the rest of the pack racing to the tavern.

  “We'll take care of the rest,” I nodded to him. “Thank you.”

  Chaun returned to his singing, but he gave me a beautiful, pussy-melting smile, his eyes soft and passionate, then he strode into the night, leading the ten barguest after him. They followed like puppies, stumpy tails wagging with excitement.

  “Jolly good song,” one said.

  “Yes, ye
s, I have not heard its like in decades.”

  “Thrak,” Faoril groaned as she stood up, the mage naked, her body smeared with blood. She had been badly savaged.

  Thrak let out a relieved sigh as she crossed the room to him.

  “I will take the roof and provide cover for you, Angela,” Xera said. “I advise we take this to the street so the innocent in this inn can be spared further harm.”

  ~ * ~

  Journeyman Mage Faoril

  My blood was sticky. I smeared at it with my hand, trying to wipe it off, as I followed Thrak out into the night. It only made the mess worse. Anger boiled into me. The damned barguest had almost killed me. And they had hurt my Thrak. He had fought barehanded while I lay dying, and scratches adorned his swarthy, muscular body. He moved without complaint, his fists clenched.

  “You didn't rage,” Faoril said as the cool, night air washed over them. It was summer, but the temperature dropped here when the sun fell and a breeze blew off the Lesh-Ke Mountains to the south.

  “Then you would have died,” Thrak answered. “After I killed them, I wouldn't have stopped. But I wanted to embrace it. The rage was there, begging to be used. But we are in a town. You would have died. And how many others?”

  There had to be a way to help him channel his rage so it wouldn't be such a threat. As it stood now, if he lost the fight and berserked only three ways would end it: exhaustion, sex, or death. Until one of those three happened, he would be consumed by rage and kill everything he came across. At first it would be those that angered him, but once they were dead, he would turn on friends and allies. The innocent people of this town would be imperiled.

  Perhaps a spell. I should research—

  A barguest leaped out of the shadows into Thrak. My orc barbarian pivoted and raised his left arm. The barguest bit into his flesh. Thrak barely grunted at the pain of those teeth savaging his flesh. I touched my blood-smeared side, the memory of agony flaring through me. Only a memory. Sophia's healing was total.

  “Las-damned cur,” snarled Thrak, and he punched the barguest in the head.

  A second barguest snarled and leaped at Thrak's back. I reached into the magical reserves—Thrak's cum from when he fucked me before the barguest attack—and sent out fire. I smiled as the barguest burst into flames and howled. I seized the burning corpse with wind, preventing it from hitting Thrak, and threw it to the ground.