Kingdoms In Their Eyes [H&P]

[Pink.]

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢
“Oh, but you must travel through those woods again and again...
said a shadow at the window...
and you must be lucky to avoid the wolf every time...
But the wolf...
the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once.”
♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢​

The dark indigo of night crept along the horizon as she made her way up the path to the castle doors. Her horse had abandoned her long ago, spooked in the dense, treacherous wood by the distant howls of the wolves that plagued this land, forcing her to carry on the rest of the way by foot. She could feel eyes on her, the eerie sensation of being hunted like the slow drag of clawed fingers down her spine. Her heart thundered in her chest, booming in her ears like rhythmic distant cannons as her eyes swept up the massive castle before her. Her only sense of comfort was found in the weight of the pistol in her hand.

Leather boots hardly made a sound on the old, worn cobblestone outside the gate, though there wasn't a doubt in her mind that the enemy was already well aware that she was here. It was in the sheer silence that surrounded her that the heaviness of company made itself known. Not a cricket chirped as even the trees held their breath in anticipation; edged in the pleasure of uncertainty.

She shouldn't have made it this far without contact…

On edge, Celine D'Argent pushed forward.

Wrought iron gates creaked as she pushed them open, bursting through that stillness as if she were ripping through a veil. The urge to run quickened in her belly, heating up her legs as every fiber of her being vibrated with anxiety, her grip tightening as her finger twitched to drop to the trigger; weapon raised and aimed in front of her just like her father had taught her. Celine had hated those lessons as a child, wishing instead to bury her nose in a book and disappear into foreign worlds but now she was grateful. There was a comfort in preparedness, and Celine clung to it like an infant would its mother.

A shadow darted in her peripheral and she spun, ready to fire, but there was nothing. Her throat went dry as a bone, her mouth tasting like ash and copper as she turned her head and looked around. Nothing but overgrown shrubbery and stone, or so her eyes told her. Every other instinct screamed that she needed to do something, anything, right now.

"I don't want to fight!" Celine shouted sharply as she turned, the weapon still lifted as her fear locked her posture in place. Her trigger finger still resting just above the guard and ready to squeeze if anything came lunging toward her. "I just want to see my father. He was taken three days ago."

She turned quickly again, feeling as if something had yanked on the back of her cape; the red material dancing at the back of her black leggings. Celine exhaled sharply, the sense of being laughed at tugging at her mind as she started to back toward the castle; too afraid to take her eyes off the shadows in the courtyard.

"Please! All I want to do is make sure he's alright!"

 

[hades.]

Her words had fallen into the death of night like a sorrowing mourn of an unknown cemetery. A prior battlefield resting beneath her very heels. The overgrown vines tugged at her heels like ghosts trying to prevent her from pushing forward. As the wind whistled between the trees, anguished souls could almost be heard crying and screaming in vain.

Those who believe in Angels could not feel their protection. Their tears had marsh the deep Direwoods for centuries before it started to run dry. Instead, a gentle weep of a tear here and there would fall out the Heavens to stain the cracking clay. It was this presence of evil, so vastly different from the vibrant fields of France, that even travelers could feel it's curse coursing through their veins. The rich fragrance of lavender fields and black grapes bludgeoned into wine had not yet entered this area of the Rhine. Instead, it was sour and molded. The only vegetation not completely culled was the mushrooms scattered up tall dying trees and peeking their calico caps above the leaves like little frightened gnomes begging the question "Why is she here in the deep, dark, Direwoods?"

Something wanted to know.

Nothing in the woods encroaching around her was safe. The crows chomping their beaks, cawing out the dinner bell sloshing in dry leaves below. Even in their movement, as they stalked in the trees, was that of caution and fear. But their birds-eye view could see above the fog of war that surrounded Celine D'Argent. The danger she was in. Following her and spectating the hunt of the wolves as they lead her to the hunting grounds of the Dire Castle. The birds begged louder as her boots beat the drum of death of the cracked cobblestone.

"Caw! Caw, caw!"
As if to say,
"Kill her! Hurry! Kill her already!"

The wind whistled loud and a silent strike of lightning flickered in the night as if a star had exploded out right out of the sky. As Celine begged and pleaded in the courtyard, the wolves crawled out of the darkness and into the castle's courtyard. Those who merely called them wolves had no words for the four cursed beasts that snarled before her.

They were massive, crawling on all fours nearly four feet in height. Their coats matched a beautiful blackness that shines amid the moonlight an opal-like sheen. The beast's maws drooled and foamed. When they snarled their long snouts raised like the hair on their backs, displaying their two rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Their fangs the size of claws and the bulk of their neck and heads alone stretched tales of their bites tenacity and strength.

As they formed a row, one at the center snapped and roared his jaws towards Celine, uninterested in her pleas of mercy. Another beside it threw back its head to howl out over the girl and starving crows. Both beasts that guarded the flanks lashed out towards her. Their claws digging up the cracks of cobblestone, kicking chunks of rock like sand beneath their toes as they charged a few feet closer before. The two leading the center charged just as the others stopped, cutting off her flanks. Their large uncanny eyes mostly locked on hers. Another one stalked her pistol, itching to rip the limb clean. The gun made them nervous. At times yelping and laughing like jackals in the standoff as they attempted to lead her into the Castle.

Finally one of the large beasts reared up on its hind legs, stretching out over nearly seven feet in height. His chest and abdomen were strong and defined like a skilled warrior yet the furless patch looked as rough and rugged as clay. It was near human-like as his chest rose and fell viciously to his hot breath. Though the beast could not talk it could lift its massive paw to point its near-human claws past Celine towards the chamber doors. His movement and heavy breathing animating the beast's massive sheath as long as the drooling eight-inch tongue that wetted his nose in thirst of her fragrance arousing its jealousy. ​

 

[Pink.]

Long before Celine had been born, the French had spoken tales of the monstrous wolves that inhabited the woods beyond their kingdom. Children who grew into soldiers all wary of the warnings their mothers and fathers whispered in their ears at night. Planting and encouraging the fear that would fester in their minds until every bullet was laced with the poison of their hate.

Celine had never felt that hate, or that fear, until now. Perhaps those whispers and rumors had taken root in her heart after all, though could she be blamed? They nearly towered over her on all fours, their teeth as long as her fingers, their maws foaming with saliva as they vibrated with an eagerness to kill. Celine's eyes misted, her eyebrows pinching tightly together and lips twisting in an expression of terror as she finally laid eyes upon the monsters her father had been at war against for as long as she had been alive. Tales of war piecing together in her mind. The images of men ripped to shreds taking form from overheard conversations lost in memories from long ago. Armand D'Argent had taken care to shield his daughter from the war as much as he could, but Celine was a curious girl by nature, and had learned plenty on her own from the stories of soldiers not so careful with their conversations.

"Mon Dieu," she whispered, her boots scuffing on the stones beneath her as she stumbled back several steps; her second hand lifting to cradle the other and steady her aim just as two of the wolves lunged toward her. Celine's startled scream was drowned out by the crash of thunder overhead, her body thrusting back and away from the monsters and closer to the Castle as she did everything in her power to keep a distance. Still, she managed not to fire; an instinct so deep and buried telling her that if she did, there wouldn't be an ounce of hope left for her.

"Please." Celine's tone saturated with anxious hope, her eyes darting among the four of them, realizing the bizarre intelligence in their glare as they continued to push forward into her space, forcing her back. Something deep in the back of her mind latched onto that unexpected humanity in their eyes, but her fear held fast: this wasn't the moment for her to brood over such an unimportant detail. The glint of understanding in their eyes continued to pull at her, however, and Celine's grip on her weapon began to falter. "...I just want to know if he's alive…"

Suddenly the beast in the middle lifted itself onto its hind legs and Celine had to tilt her head back to keep eye contact, her own gaze widening as her arms slackened in front of her; the barrel of her pistol aimed at the ground as she felt her heart leap into her throat. There was no question of the creature's sex when he was upright, the size of his sheath impossible to miss even as her eyes never faltered from his. The width of his chest, the cut of his stomach, all surrounded by the fur and musculature of the animal he was recognized as.

For the first time since the Direwolves had crept out of the darkness and fog, Celine's eyes moved away from them, turning over her shoulder to look at the castle doors. She studied them for less than a heartbeat before turning her attention back onto the behemoth before her, her gaze flicking briefly over the other three before she lifted her eyes back up to the leader. The terrified young woman mustered every ounce of courage she had, and holstered her pistol. She left the holster unsnapped, ready for her to grab in any attempt to save her life, but the likelihood of her managing to reach the gun before her throat was ripped out was extremely small. Celine imagined her likelihood of survival wasn't much greater with it out. The air was ripe with nervousness, and not all of it from her. Nervous creatures, both human and not, often behaved far more impulsively and dangerously than they would otherwise.

Slowly, keeping her eyes on the beasts for as long as she could manage, she turned until her back was to the wolves, and made her way to the castle doors.

 

[hades.]

The dire wolf collapsed back down to all fours, snarling, as the small pack moved closer to force her into the castle. One of the beasts brushed alongside her, his bulk and mass built rock solid and unmoveable as it nudged her out of its way. Its fur was fluffed, both of softer hairs that grew long and wild with a coarse coat closer against its flesh for warmth. Slowly it marched gracefully towards a room left of the massive foyer of a once-great Palace. The others followed suit, batting against her expressing their dominance above her. Marking her with a scent only their kind could distinguish. In its pungent musk a meer message of warning to others granting her protection of the pack.

Their den was more enormous on the inside than it had appeared beneath the crested canopy of moonlight. Though ragged and rundown, berthed of all its wondrous trinkets and treasures. The walls had tarnished what once contained great paintings now have turned to unmarked graves of the palaces past. Dust covered nearly everything that wasn't spun by the spiders that covered nearly every inch and corner of the castle. Beautiful marble statues laid in the rubble beneath their stands. A beautiful double stairway marking the upper east and west halls was magnificently carved by highly-skilled carpenters that looked like ivy flowing around the all wooden rails of red tanned sapwood. Following down the rotting creaking floors is a beautiful white lace carpet that resembled a grave jacked widowed dress.

No light was illuminated in the main room apart from a dwindled starving fire that flickered and danced to a foreboding song that played mysteriously in the room. The tune crackled from chips and cracks of a worn needle that spun it. The piano played and wept away its melancholy melody beautifully that only complimented the sorrow of the soulless castle.

The warmth of the fire had been laid claim by an unmet beast, curled and careless, sprawled on the floor like some old lazy hound basking in the sun's rays. His big, sad, soul sucked eyes seemed to roll before looking away from her. One from the pack that herded her in took a spot beside him after smacking away an old wooden coating rod that had only burnt halfway down.

One of the beasts remained by Celine, nudging her towards a countertop to the right of the main hall. On it was a golden three-branched candelabrum that matched the ivy sculpted mason and carpentry. It was unlit and the wax dusty and coarse. Two more unmet beasts could be seen peeking out of one of the many rooms connected to the main room. One is only slightly smaller than the rest while the other is only but a young pup. Unlike the rest, its blue hues glowed with life, along with a wagging tail that dusted the coat of its protective mother as they watched the visitor.

The one that had stayed by Celine's side waited for a moment while she fetched light from the fireplace before it started to move up the once elegant ballroom stairs. The second floor felt like a maze of hallways and spiraling stairways that all lead to a variety of different chambers but the beast that accompanied was strict on where she could go. It took all of a few moments before reaching the third set of spiraling stairs that seemed to lead up into a tower. At the top was a large wooden door. The beast gave a deep rumbling grow before turning back down the stairs.

Inside the room housed one of their prisoners, a proud warrior only alive because the moon had not yet cursed his poor soul. They had been keeping him alive to be the first kill of their coming harvest. It had been days since he stepped out of the rusty cage that imprisoned him. ​

 

[Pink.]

Every brush of their massive bodies against her own gave Celine a small flutter in her chest. Fear rippled off of her person like a perfume, and she was certain with every drag of their thick fur against her that it was going to be the last. That was until the final one moved against her with enough force that she nearly lost her footing, catching herself on the threshold of the doors as they opened before her. Her head turned, looking as they walked past her and into the foyer, joining the other she could see waiting inside. Celine's skin crawled with the sense of danger, the fine hairs that dusted her arms standing on end as she came to a slow stop under an enormous chandelier, looking upwards toward where the double stairs converged stories above.

The music coming from the great room wrapped around her as she spun slowly, the look in her eyes becoming distant to those keen golden eyes that watched her. She could almost see what the palace had been like in its prime. The gilded railings, the beautiful filigree designs painted through the halls, the brilliant portraits of the royal family hanging from the walls. Canvases detailing victories in war, moments of peace, and heaven on earth decorating the vast space. Soft laughter and conversation floating through the walls, the shouts and raucous clanging of pots and pans from a kitchen, the smell of bread and meat in the air…

A bodiless nudge drew her back to the present, and Celine whipped her head to find that one wolf staring at her again across the way, hovering in the entrance several feet away. She licked her lips nervously and followed him into the great room, slowing as the massive creature stretched out at the fire eyed her disinterestedly before shifting it's attention away. It surprised her, how nonchalantly the beast behaved. She had anticipated the terror she had felt outside, staring down the snarling maws of beasts hellbent on killing her, but this? The indifference?

This time the nudge she felt was physical, drawing her attention back to the wolf that guided her and moved to the candelabra as the creature clearly indicated it. Her gaze danced briefly over the mother and pup, her confusion worsening, making her drive to find her father all the stronger. Cautiously approaching the fire where the two wolves now rested before the flames, she knelt down slowly and reached the candelabra into the fire to ignite the wicks. Pulling the three-pronged torch back toward her, she stepped over the tail of the sad wolf carefully and approached the other once again. As he led her to the stairs, Celine allowed herself one more glance over her shoulder to the others that watched her, feeling her stomach knotting with uncertainty.

By the time they reached the door, Celine's anticipation became palpable. Her eyes misted as she turned her head to the wolf, her palm already reaching for the handle, feeling the deep rumble of his growl in her own chest. She didn't know what lay on the other side, what condition her father would be in, but she knew he was alive, and she knew that the wolves could have simply killed her or taken her prisoner as well, and instead they had led her here and were giving her privacy. It was a kindness that no one would believe.

"Merci," she called after the wolf, though her voice didn't feel as if it had been much more than a whisper as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Her gasp echoed down the stairwell, reverberating through the room as she staggered inside; overcome by her emotions and the expression on her father's face as he realized she was there. She fell to her knees outside the cage and watched as he turned to face her.

"Oh, papa!" she cried as she reached her arms through the iron bars, wrapping them around his shoulders and buried her face as much as she could into the crook of his neck; choking on her sob as she felt his arms lift and then firmly wrapped around her even as he hurriedly spoke in a horrified whisper.

"Celine, mon coeur, what are you doing here?!"

Celine tightened her arms around him, feeling the tears burning in her throat, searing hot tracks down her cheeks as he finally pushed himself back; gripping her arms as he looked her over.

"You shouldn't be here. Have they hurt you? How did you find me? You have to go!"

His grip tightened in his fear, emphasizing his words with a little shake as the soldier looked over his only child. Celine's eyes finally understand what her arms already knew. He was hurt. Running a fever. She dropped her eyes down to his abdomen and quickly found the bloodstain where a hole had been ripped through the fabric. She acted before he could stop her, ignoring her questions as she lifted his shirt just high enough to see the wound.

"I'm okay, stop it. Stop!"

He swatted her hand away and moved out of her reach; wincing with pain as he did.

"It's infected. You'll die."

"Sweetheart, please… I'll be fine."

She slammed her palm against the iron, her eyes swimming with the frustrated tears that threatened to fall.

"Don't lie to me."

Armand winced, looking away from his daughter and toward the door behind her; knowing that there was no chance for him. Not to escape, and not to fight his way out. He simply needed his daughter to listen, and he knew in the deepest corner of his heart that she would not.

"Celine," he sighed, moving back toward her and wrapped his hands tightly around the bars, "my darling, you must leave this place."

"Not without you."

Lifting herself to her feet, she started to shake the bars, searching for a weakness anywhere in the cave. Surely they had to have rusted loose when so much of the castle had fallen into disrepair?

 

[hades.]

Meanwhile,
Her bouquet blossomed its beautiful smell throughout the halls to combat the stench of dust and death. It stuck out like a sore thumb, only biding its time before reaching the master's quarters. Then, just as the smell slithered out along the West Wing of the dreary Dire Castle, loomed a loud howl rattling and echoing against the clamor seeping beneath the cracks of every chamber door. It was long and suffering, so haunted that in the pause of its sad, lingering, wail that it became swallowed up in wrath, bellowing forth a rage that could have only crawled out of the deepest, darkest chambers of hell.

The Alpha.

The big behemoth chased his warcry towards the center of the crumbling chateau before reaching the top of the stairs where she, if only for a moment, had stood. The notes of her body played a lustful song that flared his snout and dilated his eyes. It was intoxicating. Enraging.

He snarled out a chain of barks before he stood upon his heels. He was even taller than the rest, claiming another foot of mass and height. His shadow blackening out the moonlight beaming in from the busted stained glass window of a story long forgotten -- the tale of a handsome King and beautiful Queen that stood upon that very stoop to constitute their vows. It was a sacred ground of memories forgotten. Traditions passed.

The pack, around twenty or so, had all moved into the main ballroom. Every one of them is standing attentively. Though their heads had lowered in shame, not one set of eyes brushed away from the Alpha.

The Alpha growled out before another loud snarling bark. His large massive arm came down to cut a chunk of the railing clear off in one fell swoop, hurdling it around to smash it against the remnants of the Shakespearean tragedy illustrated behind him. His arms stretched out as he clenched his claws. He threw his back into another bellowing yell.

Slowly, crawled one of the wolves out from the pack. He had been there with the original four. His coat still covered with her scent now stood defiantly from the rest. For a second the two stared each other down before the Alpha lunged from the top of the stairs narrowly missing that old chandelier that swung loosely amidst the wind now and again. Upon his landing, his talon sized claws stabbed into the thick hide of the wolf. The tremendous weight of the Alpha forced the two to fall back into a roll of raw momentum before releasing him across the room and against a cobbled wall. He yelped loudly in mercy but the behemoth was maddened in a rage he could no longer bear nor control.

The fight soon continued. The Alpha mangled the uncommitted other who refuted and refused to even fight back. He had, after all, accepted this grizzly doom the moment he decided to spare Celine and allow her within the castle walls. The direwolves never took prisoners until the arrival of the brave yet foolish Armand D'Argent. And now this woman?

The Alpha took the throat of the wolf, lifting him high in the air. Some of the wolves could be heard whimpering out while others snarling and growling, extolling the death of the desecrator. Another gaze between the two lingered. The Alpha, observing the life spewing out from the desecrators golden hues, had little pity. And then, as the wolf struggled on its last limb, the Alpha caught wind of the essence that was Celine D'Argent, pulsing to the rhythm of her heartbeat like radio waves. Before the wolf could close his eyes for death, the Alpha released him.

He roared. His dull hues like two blue moons from a strange fictional world peering towards her. The air in his lungs rumbling his thick baritone strings to form an incredibly loud growl that would rival one's own imagination of dragons. Daring her to make her move.

His size only enhanced as he stood there with the rest. The beasts that stood over her at the very doors the Alpha guarded, laid near lifelessly, curled up into boulder of black fur beside him. His arms and legs nearly twice in size. His sheath swaying to the panting in his bloodlust.

The smell of her and the adrenaline forcing the large barb of his pink and tri-shaded shaft to slither up his thick, chiseled abdomen, contrasting to his beautiful black coat. The tip, peeping out nearly three inches, started to swell as the skin of his sheath stretched to the thickening of his girth growing inside. A glistening, crystal colored sap seeped out to thicken and clot his coat.

It sent some of the female wolves to lap their snout, itching to try and calm the unstable behemoth. With his arms arched by his sides, his large claws curling back and forth in anticipation. Daring them to hither closer.
​

 

[Pink.]

As one of the bars started to give to her yanking hands, she started to work more feverishly. Small fists bunched around the iron pole as she jerked and rocked her body in an effort to use momentum, force and strength to open up just enough space for her father to slip through. Sweat began to bead at her forehead, driven by both the emotional stress and physical exertion. Her grunts of effort tiny in the large echo chamber that housed her father's jail. She nearly had it when she heard the howl.

Both D'Argents turned their heads to look at the door, frozen in momentary fear before Armand began to beg Celine to stop her foolishness. She ignored him, returning to her efforts with renewed vigor until suddenly the bar snapped free; throwing Celine back on her backside in a startled heap. She caught herself on her hands, twisting as soon as she was able to control herself again, rolling onto her hip and then her knees as she reached for the second bar.

"Hurry! Help me," she hissed, getting quickly to work, this time with Armand's help. They were able to bend the bar just enough to offer Armand enough width to slip his shoulders through.

With her father leaning heavily against her, Celine guided them both down the stairs as quickly as they could manage. Her father's military training kicked into gear as he reached for the pistol he'd seen holstered to her hip. She didn't notice, too focused on the effort it was taking to descend the steep, spiraling stairs without alerting every wolf in the castle what they were doing, though it would appear that there wouldn't be any wolves peeking out of doorways to spy their escape. Snarls and growls sounded from below, the crumble of stone grating on her nerves as every miniscule ending vibrated with anxiousness. Armand's hand on her shoulder tightened as they approached, the other readjusting its grip on the gun, readying to fire at first sight of the creature that had taken him.

It happened so quickly.

Celine's eyes caught on the sharp blue of the massive leader and she froze. Her gaze locked with his own, sucking the oxygen from her lungs as a deep, unnerving sensation of being pulled like a magnet began to grow behind her navel. It was the glint of metal out of the corner of her eye that withdrew her attention just in time.

"Papa, no!"

She twisted her body and lunged at the gun; smacking it with her outstretched palm just as it fired. The bullet whizzed through the air, slicing through the bicep of the alpha before imbedding in the thick doors behind him. The snarl that sounded ripped through the air between them, shaking her very bones and tearing away her father's angry curse from her ears. She tried to cling to him as the alpha rushed up to their position and with one mighty sweep of his arm threw them both back against the wall, Armand hit the wall first, his body cushioning Celine's against the impact before they both crumpled to the floor. He tried to lift his arm to fire again, watching as the beast lifted it's hand above its head, dagger-sharp claws glinting in the moonlight as it prepared to swipe, but Celine moved between them.

With her arms lifted in surrender, she thrust herself between the monster and her father; screaming as loud as she could to make herself be heard. She knew the wolves could understand her. She saw it in their eyes, and she felt it in her soul that they could be reasoned with. And she knew this would be the only way to save her father…

"Me! Take me! Take me instead, please!"

 

[hades.]

Her words stabbed the stale stagnant sound of silence that befell upon the room. It caused the attention of every soul gaze upon her. The ears of every wolf sharpening including the desecrator who managed to find enough strength to hold his head high. His plan had somehow managed to be working. The pain that pulsed through his battered and bruised body had yet to be in vain.

The Alpha jerked his head towards her. His right hand frozen in midair, drilling a steady flow from his fresh wound itching for revenge. He snarled defiantly as his arm slowly lowered down. He was puzzled as confusion swept over his rage. For a moment her fragrance that cast its spell of lust lured the far-fetched fantasy. Could she be the one?

Impossible.

Or so he ruled.

Quickly, the beast reached down to grab hold of her with both hands, jerking her up from her defense of her father. He held her off the ground, making her feet dangle uselessly, forcing her nose to nearly touch his snout. Within an instant, his anchoring massive jaw could devour her entire pretty little head.

The beast wasn't without weakness as his injured arm shuddered in pain. His nostrils flared as he sniffed her. His wet, cold, coarse snout ran along the tip of her nose as he sniffed down her cheek and along her neck. Breathing in her intoxicating scent until it forced a small sneeze. The strength of his breathing enough to play with the strands of her hair.

There was an attempt to stop the behemoth from her father, yet efforts were futile. The danger of him hurting or even killing Celine too great. His words were quickly muted by the beast who roared against his wishes in a chain of barks. It was time for him to leave the castle or face their death.

The Alpha couldn't resist her smell. Out of his maw slithered a long, wide, thick tongue. Slowly the beast touched its harsh, coarse tongue against her soft skin. It felt like lightly lubed up sandpaper scraping along her neck, nearly long enough to entangle around it like a boa constrictor to cut the very oxygen from her neck. He could taste her fear and sweat that only caused his hot pink cock to shudder out another inch revealing the full barbed four inches that made up the beast head that at times would brush against her body.

​

 

[Pink.]

Celine had never felt smaller than she had when the beast wrapped it's hands around her waist and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. Her hands gripped at the fire of his forearms, the toes of her boots seeking some sort of purchase in the air as she arched back; trying to avoid the certain snap of his deadly teeth around her throat as he pulled her in closer. She pressed her hands firmly against his throat as he pushed his face so close to her own; fingers coiling in the thickness of his fur as his nose dragged over her cheek and down to her neck. His breath billowing her hair as he inhaled deeply, the startle of his sneeze causing her to jump.

She was absolutely silent, terrified to speak and say the wrong thing, scared that any whimper or sound may set her father off and get him killed. She closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and held herself as still as she could manage, releasing her hands back down to the beast's arms slowly.

Suddenly her father started to speak, but was quickly cut off by the snarls and harsh snaps of the beast as he commanded his wolves to remove Armand. Celine twisted to reach for him as he fought against the creatures that grasped him by his arms and began to haul him away; crying after him.

"Get home! Heal! I'll see you-" her words were cut off as the doors of the castle slammed shut behind them, leaving her alone with the wolves.

In all of this, in every sudden move and sound from the monsters that surrounded her, Celine knew they weren't going to kill her father. She knew it as simply as she knew the sun would rise the next day, but that didn't stop her from being afraid. As the alpha's tongue slithered over her neck she let out a small, strangled whimper of disgust; her eyes pinching closed as he turned with her in his grip and carried her away from the others.

 

[hades.]

Down the Eastern Wing, the alpha carried her, following her scent once again that leads to the dungeon. Instead, this time, taking another direction that leads south instead of the northern stairs. For convenience, the beast had decided to throw her over his stronger shoulder, dangling her over him like a piece of game he prized himself while denying her the decency the desecrator had given her. The massive behemoth barely nudged through one of the chamber doors of the south-east hall. His weak arm tore against the fabric of her coat before attempting to puncture her corset beneath.

In a quick motion, the beast underestimating his strength threw Celine down onto the large, old, queen-sized bed that once served as the castle's guest quarters. A cloud of dust flew up that had blanketed the rarely used decorative blanket neatly still intact. The legs, though exquisitely handcrafted, broke at one of the corners from the force of his throw.

His blue hues pierced through hers to examine hers before gazing down along her body. It had been so long since he could behold and admire the beauty of humankind. When it came to the hunt, the culling caused by the full moons, there was little time for enjoyment. They had to feast to preserve their strengths, only capable of eating once a month.

He licked his snout with half of his ten-inch long tongue. His salivation grew as his eyes wandered her body. The beast let out a grimly growl, jeering at her as if it was laughing maniacally. He kneeled upon all fours as he stalked her scent towards the bed as it began to buckle from the weight of the behemoth, as the wood croaked upon each step towards her.

Again, he sniffed at her. Inhaling the fear he invoked upon her. His drool dripping along her body like droplets of rain trailing his ecstasy. One of his large claws started to rest against one of her arms, pinning it down hard into the bed. Another came up, applying pressure against her chest as his claws tore and unclamped the buttons of the coat that clung around her, exposing her corset and trimmings of white blouse hidden beneath.

He squatted, his cold wet nose pushed against her clothed crotch. He took in the scent of her sex that sent the hair on his back to rise in excitement. He opened his large maw, taking her entire crotch. Once clinching the fabric with his teeth the beastly behemoth violently shook his head back and forth, if not for holding her down, would have jerked her around as if she was only a chew toy. Finally tearing a large hole from her leggings. The fabric of her leggings hanging from the side of his mouth as he looked into her eyes for a moment. Quickly he shook his head to throw away the fabric. His feral instincts had completely overcome him.

The Alpha roared out a howl, throwing back his head. His head thrashed back down, burning his cold wet snout against her in a mad frenzy as he sniffed and snorted like a wild, disgusting pig. His tail hung high up into the air, it started to wag happily and frantically back and forth. His tongue came out to meet the cloth of panties, pushing them against her sex. Gently his slippery sopping tongue started its sensory, slowly learning every curve of her cunt as it stroked her before infiltrating inside.

Her taste was more than the beast could have ever imagined. War raged inside it at the taste of her flesh and sex. He urged to feed, he urged to fuck. Drunken and mad he bit down against her mound, his tongue thrusting forward as he forced her crotch back into his mouth. His tongue was wide and thick as it barely barged deep inside her. It's massively girthed tongue released some of its pressure that stretched along the walls of her sex as his tongue continued to fight through to find the source of her nectar.

Upon reaching her gspot, his tongue forced it back before swirling around it. His tongue wrapped around it before he drew back his tongue, tugging it along as far as it would follow, as he brought the taste of her sex into her mouth. Again, his tongue shot against her, this time missing the entrance to pressed against her clit. Frantically it flicked and flickered against it before slipping back into her, lapping up a drink of her nectar.




​

 

[Pink.]

Celine grunted as he threw her over his shoulder; the air knocking out of her lungs in a sharp, sudden exhale. One hand pressed against his back, the other pressed against her chest as gasped to catch her breath. A single hand wrapped around her thighs to keep her from kicking and in place, hauled over his massive frame like a sack of potatoes. She could only help to hold herself up, staring down the hall as uncertainty started to plague her. This wasn't the way to the cells in the tower.

Soon enough her concerns were validated, the sudden crash of the chamber doors opening and then the way in which she was flung onto the bed. She cried out, the sound interrupted by the force of the mattress colliding with her back, releasing a cloud of dust into the air around her just before the bed partially gave out under her; lolling to one corner. She coughed, hand lifting to cover her mouth and nose as she started to lift herself up on her elbow and kick her feet; trying to scramble away from him as he crawled onto the bed over top of her.

Her scream reverberated through the room as he pinned down one arm and tore at her cloak with the other; ripping through the buttons and fabric as if it were made of paper. Thin lines of red welled up under the razor thin slits his claws had ripped through her shirt. The cuts barely there, but just enough to tease the blood to the surface. She arched her back as she struggled against him, kicking and punching with her free hand, using it to try and tear at his impossible grip. He seemed unphased, as if she were as destructive as a fly, and buried his face between her thighs with a delighted snarl. Her cry cut off in her throat, strangled by the shock of his mouth ripping away the protection of her leggings, leaving her thighs swollen and red where the fabric had torn. Shocked tears welled in her eyes as he lifted his head to glower at her, the fabric hanging from his teeth.

"No!" she screamed again, releasing a wail of turmoil as his tongue started to press and explore against her pussy, her panties offering a meager barrier of protection that was broken moments later.

Celine's eyes opened wide as his jaws clamped firmly over her sex, his dexterous tongue shoving her panties aside and delving deep into her body. Her mouth parted in a silent gasp, her hands clenched into fists in whatever they could grasp, be it blanket or fur as she struggled against the sensations of pleasure and discomfort. The sensation of his rough tongue against the soft, silken walls of her pussy made her shiver, but every twitch and shift of her body enhanced the threat of his teeth breaking skin. All she could do was hold herself still as he violated her, pinching her eyes closed and gritting her teeth whenever he moved in a way that felt good or hurt; her shallow, rapid breaths or sharp, sudden whimpers the only indication he had of what felt good for her, and what didn't.

 

[hades.]

The behemoth devoured her, lapping at the taste of her humanity. The humanity the monster had lost so long ago. Mindlessly he feasted upon her sex as if he had been deprived water while lost in the vast Arabian sands. A beast, a furious, ferocious animal without warrant or morality. His teeth tore and dragged against her flesh carelessly, with little compassion.

Deep down he despised her. Jealous of her soft beautiful skin that he was scratching and biting. Naturally, as Celine would fight back against him, he snapped his angry jaws and sent his drooling saliva all around. Reminding her that any discomfort is merely child's play compared to the real damage he could bestow upon her.

He roared out loud, arching his back and releasing his clutches from her. His tongue licked her sex from his snout in a small triumph. His tongue numbed in her nectar. He shuddered, sending his hair to rise.

His blue eyes went black as those big furry lids closed tightly. He couldn't yet see it, but he could, only for a second, remember the taste of his once true love. In his jealousy and hatred was the demented dementia of love and longing. He had been beaten down by the curse, unable to accept anything other than this dark, depressing life. Most memories, if not all, had been long buried beneath the stones of the Dire Castle.

A tear. One simple, sad, pathetic tear tore through the tightly clenched lids of the behemoth. He could see her. Amelia. The beast nearly groaned it out. How he missed her. How he missed kissing every inch of her body. The squeals she made as he teased and tickled. The way she slid back in protest when he childishly tried to peek up her dress. Young love so long lost to tragedy.


​

 

[Pink.]

Every shift and shimmy of her hips caused his teeth to dig and scrape into her delicate skin, though staying perfectly still was impossible. Her muscles tensed and flexed as he devoured her, her hands left to coil into the moth-eaten blanket beneath her as she pressed the back of her head into the mattress. Fighting the urges to shake her head, to writhe, to kick and fury against the beast who pinned her, until finally he pulled his large jaws away from her sex. She gasped in relief, her body sinking into the mattress as she released the blanket from her fists. Brown eyes snapped open to look up at the wolf as he arched his spine and howled, giving Celine the window she needed to escape.

Rocking her legs back, she kicked the heels of her boots into the wolf as hard as she could; aiming for his wounded shoulder. As he reeled back in surprise and pain, Celine rolled off the bed and lunged for the door and made it nearly four steps.

Her scream of anger and fear echoed through the room as she kicked and hit; using every ounce of strength she had before the alpha's grip restrained her once again.

 

[hades.]

In the beast's whimsical wondering of the centuries past, a nightmare soon came. A haunting vision of that treacherous witch of Marseilles and her cards of sorcery that drew the card of the curse.

The moon.

It was the only other memory that he known before the changing, burnt into his eyes a very hell he'd certainly never forget. A pain punched through his warm wound, pulling the trigger of reality as those bright blue glowing hues returned. His hand clutching hard against his shoulder confused as to what had just hit him. The panicked movement of Celine called the creature's instincts, forcing him to chase out after her.

His massive leg caught the bottom bed's elegant wooden frame, forcing him down upon his hands. His strength and mass tore and broke the wood that tried to grab hold of him. The beast in a fury grabbed the bed and threw it out of his way, using his strength to magically turn the bed to near splinters and sticks in a scrap pile by the wall that caught it.

He chased after her. Hunter vs Prey.

As he grabs hold, he swung her hard towards the stone wall of the south-east halls, forcing her to face against it. His paw and long human-like claws cast a shadow over her terrorized face before clutching it. The beast's palms were remarkably soft, his sharp fingers stretching out across her head as he shoved it against the cold cobbled wall.

His nails entwined into her thick hair as he jerked her head back to feel his hot, moist breath beating against her. He smelled her again as if he could breathe the essence of her fear. His fur felt damp and pungent from her sex. Slowly he nuzzled his snout against her skin, smearing her sex upon her.

He snarled sinisterly as his thumb was free to travel the ridge of her cheek, his other fingers balled in her hair. There was a moment of near-human intimacy before dire alpha shoved her head forward to bash it once against the bricks of the castle.

He brought her head back towards his. His cold wet snout pressed against her ear as he snarled. It was as if he was asking if she understood, but to what would be anyone's guess.

But for the Alpha, it was a lesson she had to learn if she were to make it alive in his Hold. Her actions were like blood to a shark and he barely battled his urge of instincts to kill her instantly as she fled like his preying plaything. If she wanted death, he would deliver.

His hand started to shove her head forward…


​

 

[Pink.]

She didn't have a chance to scream before she was thrown against the wall; the wind bursting from her lungs in an involuntary exhale. She gasped, choking, her lungs spasming in her chest as wide, terrified eyes watched the giant, claw-tipped hand ease to her face with surprising gentility. She whimpered softly, her gaze pinched as her lower lip quivered in fear as he pressed her cheek into the icy cold stone. Her hands pressed against the wall, fingernails scratching against the surface as he snarled in her ear. His fingers slowly coiled in her hair, shivers sliding down her spine just before he jerked her head back; her throat straining as she gulped for air. She could smell her sex in the damp fur of his jaws, shamefully reminding her of the wetness between her bare thighs; the remnants of her leggings coiling at the outside of her hips, leaving her ass bare against the coarse fur of his thighs.

For a moment it seemed as if he may be… calm. Kind didn't seem like the correct word for it, but as his thumb ran down her cheek, she strained her eyes to look back at him; remaining cautiously still.

And then he yanked her head back and slammed it against the wall. She grunted in shock and pain, Her forehead split above her right eye, pain shooting through her skull and down her neck like white fire before dizziness covered her like a blanket. Her head swam. Her eyes pinched closed as she sucked in shallow, trembling breaths. His snarl in her ear emphasized by the press of his palm against her skull once again. Pushing her cheek back into the stones.

It registered as clearly as if he had said the words out loud. She had to be smarter if she wanted to live. She couldn't tempt the instincts of the wolf. Her eyes closed as she grimaced, feeling the pressure increase as she cried out sharply.

"Okay! Okay, oui!"

He pushed harder, and for a heartbeat Celine was certain she was going to die, but then she felt the weight of his cock against her back, and Celine had the horrifying realization that there was only one way she was getting out of this alive.

Her spine arched, her ass pressing back against his thighs as she lifted herself up on her toes; rubbing her cheeks against the first inch of his shaft as she pressed her eyes closed and prayed.

 

[hades.]

Good girl it seemed as he cooed.

His thick shiny black lips parted and grinned. His tongue leaped from his maw to meet her mouth. His tongue pushing against her teeth to run along with them as he tried to pry her jaw to force his tongue to touch hers.

His upper body lifted the pressure against hers. Freeing her breast from the crusty cold wall. His weaker arm slithered around her waist before clawing up to cup against her breast. His massive soft palm politely pressing over the left as his long-fingered claws stretched out to pinch and prick against her skin as he squeezed his fist to push her breast together. His thumb, not quite long enough or capable of helping, stroked between her cleavage, the nail often scraping across her nipple.

He could feel her nuzzling her bottom against his fluffy lap. The oozing, slippery shiny peak of his phallus probed between her thighs tightly. His girth parting them and sliding along her slit. Compared to the cold windy draft of the castle, his rod radiated and hummed with heat. He buckled for a moment, the pleasure of her thighs and wet sex sent shivers down his spine. The hairs on his back stood as his hips violently spasmed, forcing his thing to fuck her thighs. The head of his member brushed along her clit when she buckled forward to tempt and tease her more.

The hand that clutched her hair had released it's harsh grasp. It moved around her right side to pin her other arm slightly by her side only limiting her in lifting her arms. His knuckles stroked the side of her neck before those long dexterous digits danced across her neck. Gently his hand squeezed against her throat though not yet tightening on her airway.

His long tail started to sway happily. He drew back his hips and aimed. His fingers closed tighter around her throat. As he squeezed tightly, he pushed forward. With the trick of the brain, his tip pricked against her pussy before a few inches budged inside. His girth was impressive but not overbearing as he pushed deep inside of her to tap the shoulder of Madam Gräfenberg.

Gently he bucked his hips. His groin pressing hers against the wall, pinning her there while hammering her into the wall with his long seven and a half-inch nail. As he pushed in fully, what felt like his balls would press hard against her. Her lips wouldn't accept even a small bite of his offering, as the Devil tempted Eve with his forbidden fruit. Precum oozed from inside, warming her womb as his tip tickled the split of her cervix refusing him entry between the shallow walls of her sacred kingdom.
​

 

[Pink.]

Celine's weight remained lifted upon the balls of her feet, the soles of her leather boots scuffing against the dirty floor as her body became so manipulated by his own. The lift of his hands against her breasts, claws slicing razor thin lines of pink across her sensitive flesh, while the wet heat of his cock pressed between her thighs. Her eyes pinched closed as his shaft glided over her clit, exhaling a low breath with a faint tremble of pleasure she loathed. To feel good to any degree as he violated her, it was humiliating. Her eyes teared up with shame, brimming her gaze as she felt his hips buck; fucking her thighs and grinding his cock against her cunt fast enough to get her to lift onto her toes with a high-pitched squeal of surprise.

When her head was finally released she pulled it back from the rough wall, stretching it to the other side, seeking relief, but she didn't experience the freedom long. Her eyes closed as he wrapped his hand around her throat, the other arm holding her arms from moving as she felt his rhythm change; the angle adjusting.

Brown eyes flung open wide as his cock pressed inside; slipping in several inches without warning. Her cry strangled by his fingers tightened around her neck, bringing her back to an arch with his chest behind her shoulders and his pelvis against her ass. Her grunts and cries echoing down the empty hall as he thrusted in and out of her body; her tight stomach rolling subtly with every push of his cock moving deeper and deeper within her until every dig of his hips bruised the very end of her. Her breasts bouncing aggressively against his palm and wrist as every thrust nearly lifted her off her toes.

Panting for breath, Celine's hands flexed and clenched as the pressure grew, feeling him rock back for a powerful thrust, stopped only by the bulge resting at the top of his sheath. As he pressed the knot harder and harder against her opening, her whimpers became more and more exaggerated, her body wriggling in his grasp as she felt her body begin to give.

 

[hades.]

By her breast and throat, he squeezed her tighter towards him as her boots brushed and scrambled beneath her. The side of her face now by the nape of its neck. His thick black fur of his coat cozying to cuddle her head. With its powerful arms and hips, he lifted her. Her feet dangling in the air in his lock as he lifted and lowered her to the motions of his movements.

He was torn by the pain of his shoulder and the pleasure in his loins. He couldn't help but growl as he lifted her and groan when bringing her back to the base of his jolting sex. Her body still refused his offer, refusing to take the girth of his face. He started squeezing her against his base, pushing in harder with each thrust, until he couldn't bear it all any longer. He slammed her back, shot his hips forward with his strength and might, forcing her lips to wrap nearly all of his hot red apple. The pain grew sharply in his shoulder, tearing and damaging the shredding muscle.

He roared out. His body shaking as he desperately tries to stand. His knees buckling from the pleasure of her sex squeezing him tightly, refusing his massive sex so gracefully. But she would refuse him no longer as Celine swallowed his fruit. Her cunt clung to it, squeezing against it.

Madam Gräfenberg grew, puffing up to the intruders, demanding his apple and arrow leave this sacred place immediately, only to be forced against a wall and raped. The tip of his massive weapon now grew two more inches, forcing the bruised and battered walls of her cervix to expand, surrendering to his beastly besiege.

An incredible warmth grew inside her, his knot shrinking slightly inside her releasing his thick seed inside to slowly flood the valley of her uterus. As her walls convulsed and massaged him, the large muscle inside started to shrink. He pulled his hips back but she was locked on. His hips lightly rocked, forcing her to cling tighter begging him to now stay locked away inside her. The air made the moist juices between them thicken like a sticky sap of sex.

The beast panted hard in an aurora of euphoria and agony. Her one boot managed to touch down to the floor first as he nearly dropped her in his exhaustion. Soon after, he let her stand, with him still inside. It was possibly the worst place to tie the knot of their bondage as the beast pulled her down between the flat surface at the top of the stairs. It was cold and uncomfortable for them both despite his beastly conditioning. He rolled over from his side to his back, moving her by his sex as he tried to tear away from her to no prevail.
​

 

[Pink.]

Celine had no way to control or fight what was happening to her. Even injured, the beast's strength was five times her own, if not more. Her cries and screams echoed unanswered in the hallway, emphasized by the wet slapping of their bodies and the grunts and growls from the monster behind her as he adjusted her in his grasp and started to thrust harder and faster. She would have buckled if he hadn't been lifting her in the first place, all the strength leaving her limbs as blood pooled between her thighs; her body working to try and ease the assault on her sex as he fucked her.

She wasn't one to pray, having not taken much stock in religion, but as his thrusts grew harder and faster, she found herself begging whatever gods may be watching to take mercy on her. Let him finish and finish quickly so this torture could be done with.

There were no gods listening, however. Or at least none sympathetic to her plight. Such was obvious when in one final piston of his hips, he pushed himself so deep inside of her that she lost her breath. The punch of his cock through her cervix was like a dull, angry burst of ache in her stomach, but the pop of his knot into her pussy was sharp. It burned as her body stretched and tore to fit him, only to lock around him and anchor him in place inside of her. She gasped, choking on the pain even as her toes hit the floor. She struggled to keep herself up right, fighting against the pull of his body but she was locked into place against him; the twin warm globes of her ass nestled against his pelvis as his heavy frame carried them both to the cold stone floor.

Celine lifted herself on one elbow, her legs barely functioning as she attempted to crawl away from the beast but there was no use. Her sex and his were impossibly linked, and as he rolled onto his back there was an agonizing pull forcing her to do the same. She laid against him, unable to do anything else, as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her only respite from the harsh surroundings was the warmth of his body as it cushioned her from the stone floor, giving her the barest, most minimal respite.

Slowly, as if to test the waters, she lifted herself up at her waist; the weight of her body sinking her cunt over his cock as she adjusted her body so that her knees were on either side of his hips. She leaned forward, palms against the stone as she tried to lift her hips away from his, pulling in short, painful bursts as his swollen knot remained.

 

[hades.]

The nightmare wailed out.

His swollen sex swallowed down and stuck by hers was intense, as if the dire damsel had turned and grabbed him in her hand in an endless violent squeeze. With each movement of her hips, she was attempting to disarm him of his brutalizing weapon still jolting and twitching inside. Yet, as she squeezed the life out of him inside her, massaging his thick muscle with hers as she squirmed and wiggled, the terror found bliss. His nerves sending shivers along his spine, as if she was massaging his entire body and randomly ripping him in two.

She tried to dismount, pulling painfully, forcing the beast to cry out. His arms lifted to grab hold of her waist begging her to stop. His claws sinking into her, pulling her back as he bucked the few centimeters of leeway they had left.

You're tearing me apart! but the beast had yet imagined the irony in his conscious voice screaming inside his mind. He let out a hallowed howl as the old stubborn soul trapped inside the beast refused to whimper and wry.

Drawing her back towards him, his arms wrapped around her. He rocked his hips, working his muscle free from inside her. It groaned in agony and frustration. It moaned as she tugged and squeezed. One of his long claws came up to trace along with her tear, capturing it and stowing it away from her face before moving his hand over her mouth, sealing it shut. He clenched so she couldn't scream or grind her teeth from the pain he himself hesitated.

He bucked hard. Growling in anger he continued...

He took every advantage of the few centimeters between them as he fucked her again. Forcing their bodies to grant them an inch of wiggle room. His macabre muscle mutilating her further in hopes to save them both. He was sick of human stench haunting the very nightmares that drove him mad. Had shattered his insanity over the years. But no matter how hard he thrashed and bucked they were stuck.

Celine had become a sweet tooth that rotted in his mouth. He desperately wanted away from her as she did him. He tried to rip her from his knot, but pain overtook his strength as he started his rut. Rocking back and forth to free himself from her, ravishing and raping her in the process. Against his very own will.

The behemoth tried to push her forward, dangling her over his groin to wedge her off. But to no prevail. Slowly, the beast scooted. Reaching back to dig his nails into the cracks of the cobblestone as he drugged them back into the room from which she ran.

It was horrifying and traumatic, even for the beast, who was bleeding out and started to lose all his strength. His head was dizzy. His skin beneath his fur itched and became soaked in sweat and fear of his wound and the human hindering him.

He grew so agitated rhyme and reason passed him by. Nothing she could do made him trust her. He snarled and snapped his large jaws at her when she made him only slightly nervous.

He took the bedsheet, molding and decomposed, shredding it into strips. Desperately he tried to move it around his arm but it had become stubborn and lifeless. He struggled to get it around his large bicep and over his shoulder to apply the pressure needed to stop the blood that started to soak the cloth. In these desperate minutes of despair and hopelessness, the beast still refused to cry. His eyes, bright and pale blue looked duller. The sharpness faded as his lids struggled to stay awake.
​

 

[Pink.]

There was nothing for her to do but try to keep herself from being thrown around like a ragdoll. She could feel his fear when she had tried to free herself from him, feel the panic when he took back control, but there hadn't been a moment for her to process how strong and vivid those impressions were. She could only cling to him, and do her best to keep herself from being any more injured than she already was, and remain as much out of his way and out of his mind as possible. When his strength finally began to wane, his breathing becoming more shallow, Celine finally looked back at him. Blood covered them both, sticking to her skin and matting his fur, his eyes a flat, lifeless gray instead of the vibrant cerulean that she had seen not too long before.

With a trembling breath, Celine started to move again, slowly adjusting her weight as much as she could without harming either of them. Her gaze locked with his, watching as the light within them fluttered and faded before they closed completely. She sucked in her breath, her eyebrows furrowed with concern when she heard him take in another short, shallow breath. He was still alive, good. She was certain his pack wouldn't react favorably if he died while they were alone. Celine had to make it out of here alive, and to do that… she knew the alpha had to live, too.

Swallowing her fear, her pain, and her anger, Celine leaned herself back against his chest and waited for their bodies to ease away from each other; her lower lip quivering as she fought back the tears and screams. Finally, slowly, she felt the direwolf's cock begin to retract, and relief from the pressure finally allowed her to take a deep breath. Turning, she slipped off of him, collapsing to her side on the floor beside him. Her muscles trembled with every flex and extension of her limbs as she moved to his injured arm, taking the tourniquette he had tied so miserably in her hands and adjusted it to fit over his wound before tightening it. Knotting the fabric, she spared a quick glance back to his face; cautiously keeping her eyes on his teeth.

Finished with what she could do to bandage the wound, she pushed herself to her feet; grimacing as she forced her legs to carry her back toward the stairs.

"H-help," she called, weakly at first, her voice croaking with the strain from her cries and screams before she coughed, and called again, "Help! He's injured, he's…"

Celine couldn't believe how incredibly insane this was, calling for help from wolves, but just as she started to believe herself delusion, two large wolves appeared at the bottom of the staircase and quickly climbed; racing past Celine toward the room where the alpha had been left. Leaving her with the rest of her plea unspoken. Swallowing the words, she closed her eyes and reached to her side for the wall beside the steps, leaning against the stone heavily as she started to slide down by her shoulder to the floor below, still dressed in her shredded clothing, blood running down her thighs and from every shallow cut along her flesh where he had bitten down or scratched her and her fair skin already turning blue and purple from the bruises.

 

[hades.]

Creeping towards Celine appeared a beast not nearly as big or broad as the other dire-wolves that had gone whooshing by. A female, more graceful and intelligent had tracked her scent. Her ears laid back, disciplined, and never budging as if held back by an invisible bow.

Her stalking was silent, her moves like a black ballet. As the beast hunted the witch, her tricks haunted her. Beneath cold brunette paws came the imaginary sounds of high heels clacking down the cold ground, echoing on the cobbled walls of the Eastern Wing once again. It was a memory long forgotten, a sound once cherished.

A fire burned in her embering eyes, radiating in the night as she peered around the corner. There was no anguish to be had in them, just coals of a fire long burnt out. This girl wasn't any hope, just trouble. The fact that the Alpha made his way with this human repulsed her to no end. Her hairs were raised in rebellion, jealous of the traitor before her.

As she approached, her head trailed up, permeating her posh pose. Her nose happened to point to a personal painting of a stern and beautiful woman. Engraved on a silver plate the name read: Coquelicot P. Capet. She rumbled a growling introduction knowing Celine would not understand her name was Coquelicot, and at one time long ago held high esteem over the Dire Kingdom as la Directrice; The Headmistress.

Her body shuddered -- dreading what was to come next. Her snout tucked down by her legs, lapping at the blood and abrasions she had received. She was careful not to humiliate Celine as she fought to remain humbled before their guest. She had wondered if this was her purgatory for her past life. The scent of the Alpha mixed with Celine reminded her of a Hell she once forgot. Trapped within a nightmare, reliving it, as her mind's eye dreamt away into Déjà vu.​

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━​

Coquelicot P. Capet paced down the hall, doing everything she could to hold back the anxiety and anger inside her. She stood, facing the chamber door parallel to her portrait that hung on the Eastern Wing's halls. She groomed the light wrinkles of her modest yet tight black dress that clung to her lithe frame. She tried to turn her neck to crack it. One of the guards nodded in acknowledgment to the Headmistress before opening the chamber door to the room he guarded.

Inside, two maids rested on each side of a silhouette of a slender female, her back turned from the Headmistress. She was watching a cardinal dance and whistle on a branch outside through a wide window that overlooked a vibrant and beautiful landscape. The two maids looked nervous about the arrival of the Headmistress, standing attentively. Both were dressed in all-white uniforms.

"Madam Directrice," One shyly spoke as both tried to dry the soap suds from their pruning hands.

"Leave us." Madame Coque commanded.

They quickly groomed themselves, ironing out their white wrinkled aprons, embarrassed by the translucent stain in front of Coquelicot -- the epitome of French elegance and etiquette. The two were embarrassed, racing out of the room respectfully avoiding eye contact.

Coque tapped her toe, crossing her arms as they passed. Her quarrel wasn't with her maids, even as she judged the strand of hair that had slipped from one of the maid's white mob cap. Smirking as the young blonde tucked it back up nervously as she passed. Coque tilted her head, honing her headband covered ears to an anticipating sound.

A second later...

Boom

The chamber door shut behind her. Leaving the two standing in the solitude of silence. The Headmistress halted her heel for a second, surrendering her anxious tapping, before stomping hard onto the floor beneath. She drove her heel like a stake in the ground.

" Well?! " She paused.
" What have you to say for yourself?" Coque curled her brunette brows.

The silhouette of the woman slithered down into the tub. Her right foot came out to dangle off the side of the tub and dampen the floor with soap suds.

"I am sore?" the stranger's voice was young and sarcastic.

"Well I am betrayed, this much is certain. I want to know why you did this to me? You know--" Coque pressed before the bathing broad interrupted.

"Oh, cut the cord." The young woman eased back up, slipping her foot back into the suds floating around the tub. She turned, looking behind her towards the headmistress. They had many of the same features, though not identical. This girl was younger, holding onto her baby fat into adulthood. Her cheeks plumper, her eyes innocent and big that contrasted the Headmistress. Even her makeup contrasted, bright lipstick and color rivaled the dull matte and shadow of Coque.

"He isn't interested in you, Coque. You're just like him. Powerful. Demanding. Dominating. You are a diplomat, not a lover. You're so selfish. What am I to do, hm? Not be Queen?" She rolled over on her knees propping one elbow on her chin. She canted her head sideways, pouting out her lips. "Am I not the Princess?" She batted her big brown eyes, fluttering her long lashes.

Madam Coque's peering eyes narrowed even more. Gently she moved towards her, standing just shy of the puddle her foot had made. Reaching down on the stool picking up a washcloth to fold it neatly into a square. Overly particular in her methods; She damped it, folded it again long ways, thumb twisting it to wring it out, before unfolding it back into a neatly folded square. Gently she ran the rag across the woman's right shoulder. "I have seen your works, you wretch, you will drive him to bleed from inside out and the Hold."

"Oh?! Is that so?" the woman interrupted.

Coque bit her tongue in an attempt to conquer her composure. She wanted to gag the woman and drown her right there, but yet her hand never shook as she moved the rag to rub the left side shoulder of the woman. "Mm, it is no secret men are weak and stupid but you have overestimated him as well as I. You are right about one thing though, little sister." She wet the rag as proper as before. She leaned in, whispering into her sister's ear. "We are very much alike." Coque patted her sisters mid and lower back. "and I will see you receive your payment in full." She brushed roughly against her sister's welted, swollen back sending her to yelp from the fresh wound the Alpha had inflicted upon her. "Oh, my apologies Amelia." She smiled softly, setting the rag down. She started to move towards the door.

"So, that's it? So easily? I can have your blessing?" Amelia asked.

Coque gazed at the wooden chamber door. She couldn't stop the tear that trickled out the corner of her sad almond eyes. She looked up, waiting for that single tear to drip off her jaw before turning around. She took her dress, lifting it in a small bow, throwing a forced smile. "Oui, ma sœur chérie."

She turned, about to leave Amelia to soak. Amelia's words stopped her as she opened the door:

" Sœ?"
"Hm? Yes?"
"I... I think you could have been the next de Medici if fate had fortuned you over me. Everyone respects you and in that regard, as his faithful right hand, you will truly rule. Je t'aime."

"...Je time." Coquelicot rolled her eyes frustrated and enraged, wondering how her blood could double-cross her. Amelia knew well her sister's feelings. Was she right? Are we too alike? She pondered. But one thing was for certain; Amelia was dead to her.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━​

Coque had little time to argue with Celine, growling at her as if this is what she wanted. But she had too. They didn't live in the days of medicines anymore. Celine was now the property of their Master. A master who happens to be laid lifelessly drained of all his bodily fluids just down the hall. His cock bulging, swollen from the fight, tinting a blanket that had been wrapped around him like death's erection. As Headmistress, she served her Master flawlessly for centuries, and she would not fail in her servitude to the Dire Kingdom.

After cleaning Celine, Coque gagged. It had been the first time she had felt such shame since that day her plans fell into the hands of her sister Amelia. She started to groom herself in disgust for a moment. Her head nudged against her, attempting to help Celine to her feet. She brushed against her, circling her before moving down the hall to lead Celine to her room. Her eyes glanced back. "Well? Come on. I don't have all night, Darling. " her eyes narrowed in silent narration.​

 

[Pink.]

Celine's gaze landed upon the approaching wolf through heavy lids, barely kept open by the time the regal beast came to settle on its haunches before her. Her head canted back, leaning against the wall as the creature surveyed her down the slope of its nose, reminding Celine of the stern headmistress of her school glaring down at her over the rims of her half-moon glasses. Something in the way the wolf held herself reminded Celine of being chastised, nearly hearing the tsk as the wolf lowered its head and started to nose at the wounds she had over her legs. Small whimpers escaped her as she sat frozen, eyes pinched closed and lips pursed in a thin, frightened line; her flinch impossible to miss when the beast growled in warning.

She held incredibly still for the remainder of the time the wolf licked her wounds. The tongue felt like sandpaper against her skin, making her whimper, but miraculously the pain lessened soon after. Whether it was the shock of what had happened finally settling in and numbing her to the pain, magic, or actual healing properties in the wolf's saliva, Celine wasn't sure, and she didn't linger on the thought for too long.

With the wolf's muzzle nudging into her arms and sides, coaxing her up to her feet, she moved slowly, but managed. Her hands pressing against the wall for a heartbeat as she tested the stability in her legs, she watched as the female direwolf started to walk away, stopping only long enough to turn its head to look at her. The question clear in its eyes. Pushing off the wall, Celine took one ginger step after another, following the wolf down the hall and toward another room. As they reached the door, Celine stepped forward, twisting the handle and pushing open the door to reveal the bedroom inside.

Another four-post bed, with old, dusty linens draped over the mattress, with a fireplace, armoire and tub off to the side. A fainting couch beneath the window overlooking the vast forest below, and in the distance a glow on the horizon. Paris. Celine inhaled a soft, shuddering breath at the sight of home, and then turned to look at the wolf in disbelief. How could this be? These creatures were monsters. Blood-thirsty demons determined to wipe out the human race. It was what her father believed. It was what the village believed. It was what they all believed. But demon-wolves don't lick your wounds, and they don't provide you warmth and shelter. Her body ached with the memory of what they did do, but as Celine recalled the wolf who had spared her in the courtyard, and moved beside the one leading her to the bed to rest, she started to think that not all of them were evil.

 

[hades.]

It was a new day as the sun slowly crept over through the crest of the mountains, shimmering her rays down on the dark and dreary Dire-woods. Yet still, unmasked by the hearty warm heat, the forest surrounding the kingdom was dead compared to the view that was Paris. The Kingdom, however, did have a small patch of hope glimmering in green. Not far from Celine's chamber, further down the Eastern Wing's crumbling corridor, was a set of double-stained glass doors painting the walls with their painting from the sunlight with a radiant rose garden. It was one of the remaining little treasures the kingdom had left. It was near magical, as the squared windows sparkled and shined like Christmas presents. Inside the music of children yelping and rustling and roughhousing behind it, just before their joyous barks betrayed their deceptive depictions of humanly illusions.

It was, for the playful pups, the best part of the day. A special treat of sacrifice. For outside those beautiful glass doors was the garden, a small hope that many considered Eden. Not much remained of the once beautiful half-acre garden, caged in by a rusted gothic fence to protect them from the cliffs that overlooked the world of the living. Though the garden had a small patch of green, almost drawing a perfect circle around a gloriously preserved forty-year-old apple tree. Its branches reached the edge of the black curse, as the wolves danced about beneath, cautious not to touch the patch of green. They were so excited as if a cat had just been chased up the tree.

The pups weren't the only ones in the garden. Standing on the edge of green stood the Headmistress, holding an old wooden coat rod that curved and pronged at the top in four nubs. It was perfect for picking the apples one by one which took a certain commitment to achieve without stepping on the green grass. She suffered at times, struggling to reach some of them. Something else was also at play, more humanly than the beast using a tool, but the communication between them all as if certain apples were picked by the pointing of their snouts, and understood by whines and yelps to the Headmistress. She especially enjoyed watching the wag of their tails as she sternly watched them, pointing to various apples. It was her nature, a strange demeanor to stagnate her smiles to only the slightest of grins.

Coque turned to grab another apple, easing up on her heels. She stretched as far as she could of one of the apples. It was perhaps the biggest one within reach, it barely fit on the nubs of her picker, glistening into the sun and baking in the sun's shimmering rays. The young male was lapping at his maw, anticipating the bright candy red apple. A faint noise was heard, as her nose caught the scent of something suspicious. As her attention slipped so did her balance. She managed to bend her knees to gracefully catch herself from falling forward into the ring of grass. Luckily, for her, only one hand had managed to touch the fresh green grass of France's cursed Dire Kingdom.

She didn't yelp, her paw steaming from the ground as she touched it. She managed to snag the apple, still holding it from the long expedient eroded rod like a royal scepter. She used it to help herself up, as she straightened her knees. A curse was a strange thing to behold even centuries of being cursed, as Coque couldn't help but show the shock of seeing her palm unmangled or even slightly singed. Though her hand still felt hot and swollen, nothing appeared wrong with her hand at all. She had heard that they would burn alive for touching the sacred green grass, and the peculiar always abducted her attention. Her fascination took charge over the amount of pain she was still feeling. She felt blessed to not be marked by the burn.

Then, out of nowhere, from far away came a roar, riding out on the wind that rippled by shaking the leaves of the massive apple tree. The Alpha. She closed her eyes as it passed by, blowing and bashing against her fur. Her orbs opened, continuing uninterrupted by his roar.

Aah, yes. The little trouble maker… She stared at the stranger. Though she had been mauled and mangled, there was a certain grace or beauty about her that Coque respected. She lowered the scepter as the young male pup took the apple. Being who she was now, was an agonizing hell. She had lost that sense of herself. Last night a secret gift Celine had shared with her, granting her the previous existence of Coquelicot P. Capet, Headmistress, and Sweet Mother of the Dire hold. She longed to feel beautiful again, to be human. Though she was not, the presence of one to tend to didn't bother her as bad as she had imagined. Refreshing to have a purpose once more.

You'll make a beautiful suitor to the King if either of you can manage to make it happen. But first, perhaps a test to see... She gazed over at the tree as if to tempt her to eat from it. She as well as all the adults didn't eat the apples from the tree. It was a special gift only to the kingdom's younglings. Ordered by the Alpha and to be protected by the Kingdoms Headmistress.

Go on ma Fleur, oui, oui. She watched, curious as to how the ramifications of the curse would affect the uncursed outsider. The holy site of a massive old apple tree, wrapped in thick rose vines going up its stock. The tree of life that had been painted upon the stained glass double doors lured all who dared to behold its beauty. Though she somewhat respected Celine, she sinisterly wondered if she would burn. Sacrificing her to Coque's curiosity.​

 

[Pink.]

Sleep hadn't come easy, nor had it been truly restful. Though the ability to stare off into the distance and see her home was a bittersweet comfort.

She laid across the bed diagonally so that whenever she opened her eyes she could see the horizon, rising with the sun when it became apparent she wouldn't be able to sleep a minute more. Her legs felt like rubber, her body stiff like lead as she slowly and cautiously slid from the bed. What clothing had survived the ordeal with the Alpha last night hung off of her in ribbons, useless in every way. Limping over to the armoire, Celine opened it up on a chance and was pleasantly surprised by what she saw. Several outfits, one or two in relatively good shape after being neglected for God knows how long, and other useful articles of clothing that all seemed as if they would be roughly the correct size. Thank goodness for small miracles.

Once she was free of her ruined clothing and in something that helped cover and hide the marks left behind, Celine made her way out into the castle.

The sounds of puppies playing lead her toward the garden, her gaze lifting to take in the sight of the only bright, lively thing she had seen since entering the Dire Kingdom's territory. She glanced toward the wolf she recognized from last night, noting the proper way the creature held itself and the stern gleam in its eye. Celine's gaze held for a heartbeat, before looking back at the apple tree. Her stomach cramped, hunger getting the better of her. The pups were chewing on a few cores, so this couldn't be some trick of poisonous apples… Her head turned to look briefly back over the wolf before she stepped forward; reaching up as she stepped onto the green grass and plucked an apple from the branch.

Lowering the fruit to her lips, she pressed it to her lips and breathed in the sweet scent with a smile, flinching when the roar rang through the garden. Brown eyes lifted to look over to the castle, looking carefully over the windows and balconies to see if she would see the hulking beast. When she didn't, she turned her gaze back to the wolves before her and then smiled as a pup canted its head, eyes as big and round as it could make them staring at the apple in her hand. It sat just at the edge of the grass, pouting at her with the most powerful beg she'd ever experienced from a canine, and with a soft little sigh, she stepped forward and held it out for him with that tender smirk still painted across her lips.