Chapter 43 - Hunger

The faint echo of footfall resounded quietly in the upper hall of Escorath. The pools of light spaced further apart in the walkway, set over shallow plinths that once paid host to statues and artworks. Faint murmurs came from her as she was carried, cradled in his tightly muscled arms as he walked through the empty gallery. A rich orange glow of firelight followed him, pulsing and dusting the walls, floor and ceiling with its hues as the intricate tattoo of the web of flames etched itself deeper into his body with every step. Black shadows, heavier than the darkness between the motes of light gathered in his wake, biting at the edges of the dark and feeding off it, growing until it swirled behind him, a cloak of darkness that flickered with a fire within.

He looked down at his sister and the fine white lines of light that showed under the skin of her face, the cracks of her eyelids emanating a soft white-blue light. She shifted slightly in his grasp. The now dried blood smeared on her face and arms from when she had passed out when feeding. Faint wisps of cold air trailed from her like frosted steam. Without much thought his vision shifted slightly, the currents of hot and cold air visible and indescribable in their path now seen. He focused on walking, feeling the tickle of her thick and short neck-length hair sweeping his arm as it swayed with his movements.

Glancing ahead, he could see the entry to the gallery from the remnants of the ruined temple above, the faint light cast down the circular stairway. Rhyker looked back to her, knowing they would be suddenly in the sharp light of mid-afternoon as it started its path to evening. As if responding to his thoughts, the black shadow that trailed him drew in close, blunting the light while he mounted the stairs and leaving them in partial shade as he stepped out into the sunlight. The sudden heat of the desert after the relative cool beneath the sands rushed around them, making Kitaraiya murmur.

He walked, ignoring the many tracks of those that died below and made his way over to the cluster of tents. Without even a glance he passed their dead guide, hands tied and leashed to a stake with an absent expression on his face as the rakshasa had cut his soul loose from the world. He could feel the horses, unsettled and whinnying with the closeness of death but otherwise safe from the scorching sun where they had been tethered under the lean-to beside the smaller tent. Passing between them, he walked around the exterior until the entrance to the largest round pillared tent came into view, its fabric weathered and strong.

For all appearances it would comfortably allow sleeping or lounging room for four, with space to spare. Though, he knew that all was not as it seemed. He dipped his head under the overhang and pushed through the flap backward as not to disturb Kitaraiya. Immediately he was met with the comfortable interior, the low light and circular entry at least half of its exterior size. Its interior walls were of dark and heavy velvety fabric, unadorned, non-descript but rich in feel as they isolated the occupants from the outside world. The tent was another place, an existence beyond the physical realm outside its walls. A relic and speciality of times thought lost, a craft of the ebony dragon, passed to his only apprentice, the son of the goddess Lumos and adopted father to the twins.

Rhyker stepped to the next internal flap, pushing through to the large main shared space within. A table sat near to the centre with a number of chairs surrounding it. Passing them, he headed to the flap on the far side, ignoring the other exits set around the room. The flap of heavy fabric had been tied back to the side. Passing into the dark and soft hallway beyond, he moved for the second on the left, the entry to his and Kitaraiya’s living arrangements. Slipping through and letting it fall back into place he walked over to their bed. A large central pallet in the middle of the room big enough for four to sleep on comfortably and gently laid her down on the covers.

She murmured softly while he knelt on the floor beside the bed, turning her head to the side and checking the web of trails as they quietly pulsing white light, tracking down her neck and under the collar of her shredded and bloodied blouse. His eyes flared a rich fiery orange as his newly formed shroud of darkness slowly spread across the floor, swirling and moving of its own accord. He winced slightly, lifting her arm to check the wounds. All but the deepest were in a state of partial heal, angry and raw but no longer bleeding. Quickly glancing to the side, he looked to the simple bath, its edge visible around the side of the dividing curtain.

He stood and quickly stripped off his belt and gear before drawing the curtain back exposing the washroom. Standing, stripped to the waist, he placed a hand on the surface of the cold water and quickly brought it to comfortable warmth. Taking a towel, he set it to the side before returning to Kitaraiya. Bending over her, he carefully removed her belts and unbuttoned her ruined blouse. Slowly undressing her as he had many times before, he lifted her gently and stood, noting the crystal white web of light under the skin of her naked body. Then without a word or sound he carried her before slowly lowering her into the bath. Letting her body become submerged in the warm water as he kept an arm and hand at her neck and back, propping her up like a babe.

With practised ease he bathed her, gently working the dried blood free of her flesh and cleansing her of the sweat of the desert. Holding her in place, he wet her hair and washed it out before letting it fall limp. As he lifted her forward, he looked into her now open eyes, their sky-blue tinting the crystal white that glowed behind them, keeping his eyes on hers he cupped his hand and scooped water to rinse off her collarbones and the tops of her shoulders. Finishing, he lifted her clear of the water and set her on her feet, supporting her as she continued to keep her eyes on his. Taking the towel, he dried her arms before patting her body down gently, his hands warming the towel as he tended to her. Sweeping the towel around her, she took the ends from his hands and tucked it within itself, around her hips, shivering as she felt his large hands run through her hair, steam rising from them as it were dried, it’s black and grey strands falling naturally back into place.

Without a word she watched him, his face close as he finished tending to her hair. She looked down, her eyes reflecting the now vibrant fiery burn of the tattoo under the skin of his chest. She ran her hands to his waist before sliding her fingers under the band of his pants, releasing the strap and letting them fall. Taking a cloth from a table near the bath she saturated it and ran it over his chest, cleansing him, watching the rivulets of water that escaped steam off his skin before they got far. Crouching, she soaked the dried blood on his legs, cleansing them of the spilled and dried vitality. Looking up as she finished, her eyes met his, ice meeting fire. She took his offered hand and stood before him, eyes locked on his.

Leading her over to the bed he sat on the side with her standing over him, her twisted smile reflecting in his eyes while she breathed deeply. Her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm before she brought one knee up beside him on the bed, resting her weight on it while looking down at him with a steadily growing fevered expression. Her smile twisted further, watching the eyes of the demon shine back at her, the darkness creeping around the room, reaching as she straddled him and sat on his thighs after covering his lap with the towel. Her eyes wandered to the veins of fire that charged under his skin, slowly tracing a wider band that ran down the side of his neck to his shoulder then down his arm with a fingernail. She glanced at her own, white blazing just under the surface on the inside of her arm. Tendrils of white, flowing veins that channelled her strength and power. She frowned before looking into his eyes through her eyelashes as the floor could no longer be seen beneath the sea of darkness.

She drew in a breath, her chest rising in anticipation as he slowly tilted his head to the side and back slightly, his eyes still on hers as she took another breath, watching him surrender his life to her as he had countless times before. Her gaze slipped from his, absently following the line of his jaw to the corded muscles in his neck, the newly formed trails of fiery light pulsing enticingly under the skin. Tracking one in particular, a deep strand on the side of his neck, that place she always reserved for special occasions, the tender resistance it gave to her fangs as she bit down, just the thought alone made her shiver deep inside. The tease of anticipation making her pant lightly, her fangs already extending in readiness.

Kitaraiya held herself back, savouring the moments before his consent. Something had happened to the both of them. It was not like before. The scent of his life just below the surface was filling her senses, vital and intoxicating. No longer just a necessary sustenance, but life itself, each movement of his heart thundering in her ears. She could feel it, the beating of their twin hearts in unison, her excited rhythm being tempered to match his relaxed and steady beat. She reached out and ran a finger down his neck, she eyes back on his, waiting for his nod as her breath came in short bursts.

The slightest of movements from him told her that he was ready, an almost imperceptible nod and his eyes slowly closing to relaxed slits as if he were waiting for sleep to come. She held her breath, taking it slow, shifting slightly, making herself more comfortable in her position as she drew her legs up and wrapping them around his waist, only a towel between them. She wanted to experience this change at its most potent, the blessing of the dragon’s blood, the first step into a new world and her twin’s concession to let her feed despite the lack of need. Kitaraiya leaned forward, shivering as her breasts pressed against his chest, her stomach against his, the chill of her skin pressing against his searing heat.

Her cheek rested against his, the scent of his lifeblood even tangible through his unbroken skin. The thunder of their synchronised hearts deafening as she looked at his exposed neck in a mesmerised daze. She reached up with her left hand and cupped his face, supporting him as her other slid over the skin of his lower back, grazing over rippling muscles until it finally rested between his shoulder blades, holding herself tightly to him.

She lowered her lips to his neck, kissing at it, nipping and nuzzling, feeling his heavy pulse under her lips as she tasted his skin. Breathing in his scent and with his taste on the blade of her tongue she finally bared her fangs, opening her mouth and exposing their razor sharp tips as she closed her eyes, wanting to focus on her all senses other than sight. With practised ease she opened her jaw wide and brought her mouth over his neck, tilting his head with her fingers entwined in his hair and feeling his surrender to her command.

“Thank you.” she whispered huskily and with deliberate intent she bit down with excruciating slowness, his flesh offering a tangible resistance that made her moan before she even received the first taste of his blood.

The first bead of blood welled around the puncture over the path of his vein and power. The salty, metallic sweetness on the edge of her tongue making her moan further, muffled by the seal of her lips on his neck. She could start to feel the change, the Firebrand of Dusk’s blood transforming her and her twin, she could taste it in his blood. Another pleasurable shudder rocked her body, pressing herself harder against him as the resistance of his flesh under her other fang surrendered, another small stream of life trickling onto her tongue and overwhelming her senses. She fought the urge to bite down and let that nectar flood her mouth, instead breathing deeply and focusing on the throb of the vein against her lips, delivering small samples of intoxication and heady bliss.

She gasped lightly, swallowing and feeling the trickle of fire run down her throat, burning warmth that shot through her body, dragging her unrelentingly closer to arousal. White light blazed from the crack of her eyelids as they opened slightly. She could see the web of fire pulsing under his skin and the throb of her ice steaming off him where their bodies touched and pressed against each other. Kitaraiya pulled back, bloodlust screaming in the back of her mind as she watched the fire blaze in his eyes. Closing her hand into a fist with his hair entwined she brought her fangs to bear, feeling for the punctures with her tongue before sinking her fangs in deeply.

With violent immediacy, his blood spilled into her mouth. The wash of metallic tang filling her senses with unbridled fulfilment. Every drop of blood bringing her closer, that sharp bolt of electrifying sensual lust making each swallow more desperate than the last until her whole body shook, her hips grinding as she convulsed, gripping him in a crushing embrace as she forcefully kept her lips welded to his neck.

Her body quaked, shudders trembling through her erratically. A large hand ran through her short hair, stroking down the nape of neck and gently rubbing her naked back. She continued to drink deeply, withdrawing her fangs and letting his blood flow over her lips, each swallow inflicting further seismic tremors, each shock becoming more relaxed and comfortable until her convulsions slowed to pleasurable shivers that ran through her.

She could feel the flow of life reduce to a crawl, until she licked at the punctures, cleaning the wounds and savouring the last dregs for this feeding. Finally, she rested her lips over them, her saliva helping them heal faster. His free hand rested on her hip as he made himself more comfortable before his arms gently encircled her, holding her close as she relaxed with her head resting on his shoulder. His heat rolled off him in waves, warming her through and calming her while a sense of euphoria enveloped her. She lazily opened her eyes, frowning at the sight over his shoulder, velvety blackness surrounded them like a thick mist and ghostly wings of fire flickered throughout it. Shifting and shimmering like a wraith in the night.

She giggled drunkenly, pressing her face into his shoulder as this new strength surged through her, setting her afire from within. It was rare that he would allow her desire like this, for her to embrace her nature near its utmost. Kitaraiya’s eyes blazed, half-lidded as she pressed herself against him, closing them languidly as his hand stroked from her neck to her mid back, petting her like the wolf she was. Thoughts ran through her mind, of years before and stalking the night at his side on the trails in the mountains near the outskirts of Meliandra, her fur being tousled by his younger hands while he kept her company in the glow of Lumos’s shine. She absently licked his neck, he still tasted the same. She remembered tackling him to the ground as they played, her paws either side, standing over him and licking at his face, his trust in her despite the fear of others.

She brought her arms in and tucked them against his chest, resting her hands limply as another laugh escaped her. His empowered blood now mixed with that of the dragon surged through her. She was not the woman that woke this morning, nor the beast that faced off against the Rakshasa’s ploy earlier within the sanctum, she was more. They were more. Together. She giggled again, her head lolling to the side, her ears twitched slightly as she felt a sense of weightlessness, of being lifted in his powerful grasp. She loved the feel of his shoulders, those forearms when he gripped her and would allow him to wrestle her down, those large hands, one now on her back and the other hooking her leg. That firm grasp of his fingers wrapping around the underside of her upper thigh, yet not pulling her fur.

She nuzzled his neck, her blunted snout grazing his ear before her tongue flicked out playfully. The world swam as she felt herself being carried, her naked body pressed against his, not unlike moments earlier as she fed. Her eyes opened to slits, as she felt the softness of the bed at her back, his hand slipping from her leg to gently slide her tail into a more comfortable position. She looked up into his eyes as she stretched, quickly encircling his neck with her arms and dragging him down onto her before he could escape.

“Stay, don’t leave me, don’t ever leave me, Ven.” she whispered, her eyes blazing white behind the blue as she looked into his fiery depths.

“I will always be here, Tiff. I will fight for you, always.” he said softly, his voice breaking.

She nodded, her ear flicking as she let her head roll limply to the side, one eye slightly open as she watched him stand. His body bare as he moved from the bed and over to a chair. She struggled to keep her eye open, refusing to let sleep take her as he pulled on some loose silken pants and returned. Kitaraiya reached out a hand and feeling him take it, she smiled before she slipped from wakefulness.

Rhyker stood at the edge of the bed, his hand holding hers gently. He watched Kitaraiya, the slight movements and the sudden twitch of her entering deeper sleep. Withdrawing his hand as she relaxed, he knelt on the bed and drew a sheet up to her shoulders, the silk flowing smoothly over the fine fur of her new form. Neither the elf nor the wolf that she was in her teenage years but something attractively in-between, a sensual caricature of both that made him think of kinship with their most recent opponent, just that of a wolf instead of a tiger.

Lines of crystalline white surged under her skin, shining through her fur and pulsed in time with his own. Rhyker gritted his teeth as the first tear tracked down his face, steaming off before it could fall. He quietly shifted his balance and sat on the bed, watching her as he controlled himself. The black cloak of shadows slowly crept up over the bed behind him while his eyes raged in fiery anger, he welcomed the shadow’s embrace, allowing it to wrap around him. He watched the black cloud wrap itself around his arms and permeate his flesh, tapping into the pulsing charge of his strength. In response a deep throb built in his chest, the seal of destiny merging with the blessing of the dragon, its bright golden hues flaring and strengthening.

Rhyker reached out and slowly ran his hand through Kitaraiya’s fur, a sad smile breaking his features.

“You have not told her, have you my son?”

He shook his head, looking up to see Winter sitting on the opposing edge of the bed. Comfortably leaning back on her arm in her true form, her wings of the demoness tucked in tight and her black horns gleaming in the play of his shadows.

“I think you now understand the truth of your kind, what you really are.” she said quietly, her burning eyes on him in appreciation.

“But how?” he asked.

She smiled slightly, not answering his question, her eyes passing over Kitaraiya, “She is beautiful, tainted, but beautiful.” Winter lifted the sheet and let her eyes roam before covering her again, “A compromise, but now she has a chance.”

She met his desperate flaming eyes, “A better chance than before.” she said as she stood.

“Hold her, my son. She needs you more than ever.”

Rhyker watched as Winter evaporated into the shadows and was gone. Lifting the sheet he slid under it and gently drew Kitaraiya against him. Doing so, her eyes cracked open slightly, she sleepily rested her lupine head on his arm and curled up against him searching to share his heat with a leg hooked into his own. He could feel the faint tremors that still trilled through her finally calming as she made herself comfortable. Rhyker held her, wakeful as she slept, pondering Winter’s words.

Winter leaned against the heavy fabric wall of the room, watching calmly as Rhyker’s dark shroud blanketed the floor. Her eyes calmly picking out the paths of magic as they had done in the ruins of the dwarven outpost eighteen years earlier. Traces of their power painted the room in shades and whorls, every residual path demonstrated the same thing. The signature of common ancestry.