Another growling sound of pleasure shook Ethan, and, suddenly, his hands were gripping Pearl’s hips as she moaned in surprise. The smooth feel of his erection against her stomach made her core tighten as she stood there with her hands held caressingly against his neck. The small amount of energy she used was worth it to hear the sounds of his pleasure. "Hell, woman... for an ordinary alchemist like you... you are something peculiar. Something different… Pearl, what are you doing exactly?" "Um-nothing." Pearl's cheeks turned red. "I know there is something behind your facade, far beyond my reach, but I don't care." In the quiet darkness, her fingers trail up the strong column of his throat before settling against his jaw. He was so handsome. So perfect... and what happened to them long ago was something she couldn't forget; in fact, she wanted him again so badly. His features were carved from stone, with a beauty that’s too alluring to ignore. He really was a predator. Built to at
Outside Almera’s cabin In his werewolf form and on guard duty, Finn was confused as to why he unexpectedly felt too sleepy and exhausted. It was like he had been under some mysterious spell. All the memories came running fast, the pain was intense, and the past emerged from his brain like a tidal wave. Yet, the best thing about him was his magical warmth, which wasn't a drawback; it had become a floor that anchored him to his anger and his past. It was the bedrock of who he was, of the person he was born to be. Though he was born gentle and vulnerable, weak and kind, now he is a warrior, deadly and powerful. He wore his heart for all to see, and it took strength to do that, but he was no longer smooth or peaceful; now he was his own hero; he was his own champion. The disastrous course of his circumstances commenced that night. Many many decades ago. The young man lay on his stomach on the ground of the large common tavern in the rogues' quarters. To Finn's right, a group of his off-
Finn felt a surge of satisfaction at the applause but regulated his expression admirably, only tidying up barely. He mastered concealing his true emotions. Life on the street taught him that. He can cope better with people who are in touch with their true emotions yet appear "tough" than with those who have masked their own emotions to themselves yet appear "mild." Stage one of his maturation into his better self is being in touch with his true emotions. Becoming a better person was stage two. Thus, the former were at an advantage and easier to coach. Those who were both honest and mild-mannered are the elite all. "You know of my elite warrior?" were the master's next phrases. "Yes, sir," Finn replied. "What do you know about them, young man?" "Sir, um-hmp that they are your selection brigade for special tasks, sir." In truth, it was all that Finn could speculate about the distinguished party of elite warriors—the most respected among the men—whose midnight expeditions were cocoo
When Finn was given sustenance and a bed in trade for his chores. When reimbursed in silver coin, it was usually meager enough to appease both needs, in which case he spent the fortune on sustenance. True, the "bed" he was given was usually barely permitted to sleep upon aground in a kitchen or stable, but the resort was worse: the thoroughfare.Met with this destiny, Finn would crawl through the alleys and roads, the stench of piss and shite surging from the humid cobblestones, whilst he surveyed the rooftops for a smoking chimney. He would then search for an interrelated veneer fireplace wall against which to curl, hoping for a spot with overhanging eaves to avert the rain, or worse, the storm, and one not under a window out of which a chamber pot might be emptied.
Finn's heart would thump as he faced off against his adversary. When his clenched fists connected with flesh, he was a lad absorbed, his fists lashed out in a blur, his heart roaring with anger as noses and cheekbones crunched under his blows and bodies doubled over to a fist driven into the gut. Only when his enemy lay sobbing and bleeding on the ground was his resentment quenched. No kid had ever been courageous enough to challenge him twice. Barely indeed did it happen that he was the one put to the cobblestones.Although most of these fights occurred in villages, he was not entirely spared in the country. He had defended himself against lads from neighboring farms and even the sons of the farms where he worked, who had taken exception to the presence of this orphan. Then there had been the times when a farmer, in one instance, and a far
Pearl’s cabin She slipped out from beneath the sweet, massive werewolves before dawn even struck the horizon. It only took an hour of her time to run her errands this morning. Once again, Pearl bought a couple pairs of jeans and shirts for the guys, but then, before she headed home, she made one more stop. Her hellhound sauntered toward her as she trailed up the worn path to the front door. "Good morning, little one," Pearl couldn't help but always talk to him like a person. She probably talked to her little hellhound more affectionately than she did other people. His soft fur met her palm as she pushed between his ears, and he hummed an approving sound. The warmth of his body skimmed against her legs as he leaned into her before she slipped inside the cabin. Bright lines of sunlight cast across the old boards, and Ethan lifted his head from the blankets as the door clicked closed behind her. "Pearl, you left?" Confusion lingered in his eyes. "Without me? The whole point of me bei
Ten miles away from Lord Bernie's castleThe tremendous magical feline hurried through the high pastures of the grassland. It kneeled low, muscles tightened, and sensed every noise and scent. Completely large, the size of a man, it wormed forward in the stealth of predatorial technique through the wavy scrub. This remarkable mastery of the kill had already brought long life to the clever hunter. Its mane was great, its musculature was lean and taught, and its paws and shiny teeth protracted and sharp. And it smelled blood.At the end of the grassy area near the stream’s ridge, the daunting feline froze. It saw a gang of varied humans in a clearing, drying and cleaning the carcasses of beast prey hanging from the fences. A gazelle, some vicious beast, and a willow bear dangled enticingly from the low limbs. A banquet for the king of beasts. But the huge lion was not looking at the fresh meat. It peered at the vast figure laying the critters onto a wagon for transport. He was certainly
Kain approached the familiar village's gate and was welcomed by a smiling old woman, whom he assumed to be a high priestess and who looked like the goddess of wisdom with her raven curls and pearly white skin. Kain noticed that she wasn't just a mere faerie. She was also an alchemist. A powerful one. Camella puffed with pride to the new hunter of their village, "Welcome newcomer." "Who are you, young sir?" She asked and watched as he took his prize: meat for everyone for the rest of the week, which this new young hunter provided without complaint. Faith indeed intervened in their famine."My name is Kain of the North, milady.""Welcome Kain of the North!" The crowd cheered again as the elder men helped him with the meat, and some offered their admiration fo