Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Witch and the Werewolf
   by Nysidra
   Fantasy Romance (MF, magic)
Summary: The timeless tail of historical enemies who become lovers.
   <->
   I heard the crash as I finished securing the furniture outside.  I
marched to the road expecting to find a deer lying on its side.  The
truck's tail lights were already disappearing towards the dark clouds.  I
didn't see another car.
   I approached the twitching animal and paused as an icy dread filled my
veins.  Animal indeed.
   "Fuck," I sighed and cursed again.  "Now?!" I stomped and looked back
toward my house.  The wind picked up, delivering on the threat of adverse
weather.
   The beast was still twitching, clearly in pain, bleeding onto the
asphalt.
   I ran back to the house for my wheel barrow.  I could lock it in the
barn.  No, I locked all the yard furniture, equipment in the barn.  I
needed to leave it on the street, but no, not in front of my house, not
like that.
   I grunted with the effort and groaned with anger as I heaved the thing
into my wheel barrow.  The wind and rolling thunder swallowed my string of
strained curses.  My own flow of anger ebbed as I heard shouting voices,
barking dogs, carried by that same wind.
   I tucked his limbs into the barrow.
   "Enemy of my enemy." I cast a cloak over his body.
   I got him to the barn.  My clothes were soaked with sweat, but I paused
before leaving, looked through the barn.  I couldn't leave him here.  I
wasn't going to be able to get out here once the rain started coming down,
and I wasn't going to leave him with an arsenal of tools.
   More curses, more anger, more grunting and sweating as I wheeled him to
the house and dragged his body into my kitchen.  I hosed down the wheel
barrow, stored it, and locked my house up.
   The injured beast lay at my feet.
   Could I really do this?  Risk my life to save a creature whose throat I
should slit?  What was this thing even doing out here?  What were people
doing hunting him when hell was about to fall down from the sky?
   "Who did you kill?" I washed his wounds.
   With a low moan I settled beside him on the floor.  I couldn't do what
needed to be done with so much hate and fear inside me.  How was I going to
be of assistance if I was loathe to touch him?
   Perhaps he's dead already.
   After a few deep breaths I pressed my palms to his body.  I reached out
and sought internal injuries, fractures, and depressed life sounds.
   Tranquilizers.  Cracked bone.  Torn muscle.  Internal bleeding.  I
handled the bleeds, mended the torn muscle, pulled the bones together.
   Outside, the rain poured in sheets.  The wind howled and the house
groaned.  He was going to wake soon; I'd be trapped in my own home with a
killer.
   At least the rain would hide his scent.  No one would track him to my
house.
   I struggled to get to my feet, struggled and failed.  I needed to get
him-
   Fuck that.  Fuck him.  I snarled, spat in his direction.  He needs
nothing from me.  I wasn't going to move him any more.
   I was exhausted, physically and spiritually.  My body was going to be
pissed with me tomorrow.  I had worked all day and spent the last of my
reserves on a fucking...
   ***
   I woke at a glacial pace.  The more I gained consciousness, the louder
the dull aches and pains became.  I'd been shot.  Bright lights.  The horn.
   I sniffed the deep green scent of drying herbs, bread, fruits, cleaning
solvent.  A kitchen.  A female.
   The idea was to get to my feet, but I flailed, pitifully so.  My entire
body protested in pain.
   A fucking witch!
   I struggled to move, cloth constricted my movement.  I looked over my
body.  That explained it, I was still in wolf form.  A witch touched me?  I
growled, whined.  Where was it?
   She was slumped against the wall, wet and pale, just a few feet away
from me on the floor.
   I was still growling but I felt some of the venom easing.  The witch
looked terrible.  The storm outside battered the walls of the house.  The
storm I needed had arrived, then.
   As if coming to a decision, the witch scrambled into her pantry and shut
herself inside.  "Just leave!" She yelled from the other side of the door.
   Leave?  Crazy bitch.  Would that I could.  I couldn't stand.
   "I didn't want to leave you on the side of the road.  Get out of my
house.  Please." Her voice sounded strained, weak.
   I took a deep breath.  Alone.  Always alone.
   I wanted to leave, but first I needed to change.  Whatever strides I'd
made toward recovery were sapped when I made the attempt.  "I need
nightshade," I barked, loathe to even speak in the direction of such an
abomination.
   The pantry door creak open.  A pale face peaked out, "What dosage?"
   My low growl deepened.  She understood?  Probably the better to hear our
curses as they slaughtered us.  And yet, this one could have succeeded
where his pursuers failed, cut him open and harvested his body with none
the wiser.  "Four crushed berries."
   The tone of her cursed whispers gave it away rather than any words he
could make out.  Her gasps were shallow.  "I hope," she drew a breath, "I
hope it doesn't have to be fresh, you fucking nuisance.  Fucking beast."
She winced.  "Should have walked away and left you to rot.  I can't do
this." Fury poured from her, venomous words that echoed my own vexed
thoughts.
   I had not seen a house.  How did she get me here?  Did she carry me? 
The witch pulled herself to her feet and turned on the pantry light. 
Flattering shape ...  for an agent of evil.  Here was a whore with one foot
in hell, and she had the gall to call 'me' a monster ...  among several
other rather colorful and new vocabulary words.
   She ground the berries and poured a bit of vodka into the mix.  She
glared at me from over the bowl.  Was she daring me to complain?
   "What are my injuries?" I chanced asking her.
   "Shut the fuck up." She twisted the pestle in her bowl.  Stone on stone,
wet sounds, all beneath the roar of the storm.  "You were hit broadside by
a truck.  I mended the tears and breaks, stopped the internal bleeding, but
you were tranquilized, poisoned.  I didn't feel obliged to purge it.  I
still don't." She crawled over to me and placed the bowl to my mouth, her
eyes were heavy.  "Greedy bastard.  If I knew it took so much energy to
heal you, I would have let you bleed out." More mumbled regrets as I licked
the elixir.
   The truck caught me.  I recalled the impact once I thought back, but I
couldn't feel the effect.  Witches would rather die than heal our kind or
touch one of us.  I looked at the bowl I had been licking from.  What else
did she put in it?
   "You ungrateful fucking cur," she whispered.  "How dare you?  I have to
throw this away now." She lay down on the floor and her eyes fluttered
shut.
   I finished the mixture, and the beast within receded.
   "Don't kill me," she whispered as if seconds from sleep.  "Just get the
fuck out." Cursing with her last conscious breath.
   Arms and legs.  Hands, thumbs.  I rolled to a seated position.  Thunder
made the ground tremble.  It would be flooding in the lowlands soon.  I
looked down at her on the floor.  My blood stained the floor where I'd
lain.
   I wasn't going to go anywhere with my fluids set out for her boon.  I
looked around her kitchen and grabbed the roll of disposable towels.  I was
not raised in a woodland den.  I knew better.  Hot water and several
napkins later I'd cleaned her floor.
   I understood how the witch felt then as I looked down at her.  I had to
get on my knees beside her body.  I paused, listened for her heart beat,
listened to her breathe.
   Definitely unconscious and sleeping.  Definitely beautiful.  Even
covered in her own sweat, dirt, and my fur and blood.  Such a shame for a
pretty face to be so taken by such profound darkness.
   I turned out the light in the pantry, but not the one in the kitchen. 
She smelled alone, but witches had things that could not be sensed, not
seen, not heard nor smelled.  I hated being here as much as she hated me.
   How could I stay here another moment?  This hell.  Anything could be
lurking around a corner, even in front of me.
   The house groaned and lightning flashed beyond the windows.
   ***
   My body rocked from side to side.
   "Witch." The voice was rich, deep, very seductive, and painfully male.
   What did that voice just call me?
   "Witch.  Wake up.  Please."
   I opened my eyes, but saw nothing.  Outside the wind howled.  "What?" I
asked, annoyed.  My body ached.  I was cold.
   "The power went out." He huffed, whined a bit, and continued.  "Do you
have candles?"
   I pushed myself to sit up.  Wait?  Whined?  And that tremble in his
voice.  Fear?  "I know your kind can see in the dark.  What's your
problem?"
   "B-but ...  you ...  witches can."
   I rolled my eyes.  "Just stop before you start crying.  I don't use
those." Well, maybe I should have let him believe I did.  Not that I
couldn't call shades, but they required more upkeep than a country girl
like myself could muster.  Either way, he wasn't consoled.  "My eyes need
to adjust.  Why are you still in my house?"
   He didn't answer.
   Once my eyes adjusted, I stood and made my way to my living room, found
and lit the lantern.  I turned to my right.  "The fuck?!" I squealed and
screamed at the tall, muscular, naked playgirl centerfold standing in the
glow.
   Naked!  Hung!
   Injured.  Dangerous.  Feral.  Remember what he is, woman.
   I turned my back to him.  The woman in me was forgetting all about the
beast in him.
   Oh no, the woman saw the beast all right, and it was legendary.
   Beast.  Predator.  Killer.  Hunter.  He will kill me.  His kind feasted
upon my flesh.
   Oh, I know what part of my flesh he could take first.
   Calm down.
   I stared at the flickering flame and reigned in the image.  "I'll find
something for you to cover up with." I straightened as I walked to my
closet.  I reached for a bath towel, huge to me, but it probably would have
fit him like a tea towel.  I grabbed a blanket.  "Are you still behind me?"
   "Yes."
   I tossed the blanket behind me.  "Cover yourself."
   "At least you are still female," he grumbled.
   "Yes, and you can manage to look like a man.  Excellent work." I gritted
my teeth.  "Why were they after you?  Who did you murder?"
   "No one!"
   "The moment this rain eases up I want you out of here."
   "If I were healed, I wouldn't wait for the storm to pass."
   "I'm not touching you again!"
   "I never wanted you to touch me the first time!"
   "Well, thank you very fucking much for saving your life!" The yelling
only made my head hurt.  Fuck, how was he getting to me like this?  "I
thought you creatures understood respect?  You are in my house."
   I turned.
   He had gathered the blanket around him, but seemed to be more afraid of
it than he was of the dark.  "Yes.  You are right." His voice was low,
strained.  "Thank you for not leaving me to die.  I do not require anything
but time.  I hope I am strong enough to leave by the time the storm
passes."
   Fuck.  My turn.  I sighed heavily and led him back to the kitchen. 
"You're welcome.  Do you--" Woman.  He said he just needed time.  "I need
to eat.  Do you eat ...  normal food?"
   "Yes." His hoarse whisper responded.
   I gave him the lamp.  I didn't need it anymore.  I cut some bread,
pulled the soup from my fridge.  My napkins had been moved.  I glanced at
the spot on the floor where his blood had been and carried the bowls to the
table.  "Apologies, but I won't heat it." I supposed that sounded like I
was making nice, but I couldn't afford to waste the energy.
   "Delicious.  Even cold." He complimented between spoonfuls.
   My scowl softened.
   Several minutes of spoons hitting bowls, driving rain, rolling thunder,
rapid flashes of lightning, the groan of my house, the whistle of wind.  We
finished and sat there, the firelight flickering between us.
   "Is it true that witches can turn a person into a slave?"
   "Yes.  It's possible," the finer points aside.
   "Then why are you alone?"
   "None of your fucking business.  I handle my own just as well.  Where
the fuck are your people?  Don't you all live like wolves?  Packed up? 
Dominating your women as if they were toddlers?" Anger again, flared just
that quickly, but I reigned it back in.
   His face had fallen.  He didn't explain.  I didn't ask.  I hated having
him here, and yet, when he kept his mouth shut, I couldn't help but notice
how pleasant he looked in the firelight.
   "My name is Alex."
   I didn't give a shit.  "Kamela."
   ***
   The storm and the beast were gone by sunrise.  I had just stepped out
the shower and dressed when a knock came upon my door.  First thing in the
morning?
   "Who's there?!" I bellowed, bitch that I always was.
   "We need to ask you a few questions about a fugitive."
   "You won't find one here."
   "May we ask you a few questions?"
   I snatched open my door.  "There's only so--"
   They pushed their way into my house with their dogs.  Fucking animals.
The dogs made a straight line for her kitchen floor.  Really?  Just fucking
really?
   "It's been here," the handler announced.
   The man leading the hunt leered at me, and my stomach tied into a heavy
knot.  These were not the local authorities.  "No problem.  We've caught
enough of them to fill the order.  What's the going rate for a Layali?"
   "Seriously?  If the Delrew was here, it's because she hacked it for
herself."
   How dare they?  I'd never do that!  "You need to leave my property."
   "The marrow is more valuable," a voice answered from within another room
in her house, "brain matter.  Should be able to get a decent amount for
the..."
   I made for the front door they'd left open at a sprint.  They were too
slow, but a pair of blood hounds?  A Delrew could have slipped them easily.
   The tranquilizer!
   I put up a shield just in time to halt the dart.  I needed to ... 
another shield.
   Fuck.  This is what I get, what I deserve.  I had a place I could hide,
but making it there would take everything I had.  Bare feet on rain soaked
earth dodging down limbs in the woods with snarling dogs at my rear, but I
did it.
   Faster.  I needed to go faster.  I had to.  If I could just reach my
hole.
   Barely, I turned, blinded the hounds, sent them scattering.  I scrambled
down into my cellar, locked the latch, called the leaves over it.  I was
shaking and dripping with sweat, but I didn't stop until I buried the door.
It was like trying to blow out a candle after coming up for air after a
long swim.  But damn it, I got that door covered.
   Fuck them.
   My body collapsed to the cellar floor.
   ***
   Warm body.  Warm water.  A buzzing all around me: primitive, earthy,
masculine.  I moaned as my body awakened and undulated on the flesh under
me.  Two hands pressed down on my shoulders, strong, large, so warm.
   "Please, wake up." Cautious tone, luxuriously smooth and sexy, also
familiar.
   I slowly sat up and opened my eyes.  I was on top of him.  He was naked,
under me, in my bath.  I closed my eyes ever so slowly.  First, I tried to
ascertain whether or not I was dreaming.  No, not dreaming.  I opened my
eyes again.  Yes, he was still there.
   "Explain." My voice was much kinder and softer than it needed to be, but
there was this buzz and I was feeling so good.
   He explained, as fast he could talk.  Cold?  Hard shivering?  Had I
really pushed myself that far?  That was a dangerous mistake.  I would have
been out for days.  He found me and was desperate to warm me.  He couldn't
leave me in the bath alone.  Plus, his kind had the ability to push their
vitality onto others.  He slowed down then, looking up at me, begging for
leniency.  He'd heard that witches fed off the soul and maybe I'd use his
vitality and warm up.
   It was his fault he had to save my life.  I nodded slowly and leaned
back down onto him, put my head on his shoulder.  "Yes, I was in danger. 
Thank you."
   He was rock hard against my belly.  I noted it with keen fascination. 
He's an animal, Kam, remember that.  Saving my life wasn't worth that kind
of debasement, no matter how 'warm' I suddenly felt.
   "Are you better?" His voice wavered with uncertainty.
   I didn't have the heart to let him know that not only had he made me
better, I had a delicious buzz.  Refreshed, warm, and all the benefits that
came with it.  I hushed him.  I hadn't felt this good in a long while, and
I still had the storm wards up.
   He lifted a hand towel and squeezed warm water down my back.
   Though I felt refreshed, my body was still tired.  A nap would settle
that.  I'd been alone a long time ...  very alone.  Straddling this
illusion of a handsome man was not good for my sanity.  "Thank you very
much."
   His penis throbbed when I spoke.  My curiosity took hold.  I rose to my
knees, wrapped my hands around that twitching thickness.  He was a male; he
started this.
   We stared at each other, mutually stunned as I eased him inside me.  I
was slick, even in the bath water.  The intensity ...  goodness he was so
good looking, good smelling, good feeling.  I barely had him inside me
before my hips began to tremble.
   With a frustrated groan, I lifted myself and stood to leave the
bathroom. Where was my dignity?!  He was there to catch me when I stumbled,
which kept me from falling when my grip on the sink failed.  I felt drunk.
My balance was off.
   "Don't blame me," my words were harsh even as I panted.
   "For?" He asked as he wrapped a towel around me.
   "Your erection.  I don't have to enchant to get laid." Anger helped.  I
reached for it, pulled it toward me.  It could burn away this stupidity I
nearly gave into.  If he were a witch, though, I'd certainly be casting
blame.
   "I see that.  Please, forgive me for noticing how gorgeous you are." His
jaw snapped shut as if cutting off further words.  He sat on my toilet,
dragging me into his lap.  He held me there, only the towel separating us.
My body, his body.  Yes, it would be marvelous.  My pussy twitched in
agreement.
   No.  Who I was, what he was ...  that would never be okay.  I sighed. 
Living alone, isolated, cut off from temptation: males, power, greed, fear.
I understood the fear and revulsion.  We could become Queen Bitches in the
right environment.
   I took my time standing, made my way to the bed with tiny steps.  He was
right behind me, quiet, ready to break my fall.
   I pulled back my covers, tossed my towel aside and collapsed on the bed.
He pulled the covers over me.  I kept my back to him.  I didn't want to see
him, probably bobbing like a fishing lure.  "Why did you come back?"
   He was quiet a long time.  Very long.  "I have no where to go," he
whispered.
   I rolled over to look at him.  The towel was wrapped around his waist.
He went into the bathroom and let the water run down the drain.  "I'll
clean up," he nodded to my window.
   I tugged the covers over my head.  Yes, they did have a way with dead
bodies, didn't they?  I was already an outcast.  Who would care that he
helped me?  Who would care if I helped him?  I turned back the covers on
the other side of my bed and went to sleep.
   ***
   Replay.
   Tight.  Hot.  Sliding over me.  Pointing nipples.  Soft skin.  Flicker
of light in her eyes, like sparks of fire.  Burning brightest just before
she tossed off her fog.
   Rewind.  Replay.
   Her fingers wrapped around my shaft.  The heat of her body against the
head of my dick.  She was so slick, so tight.  The way her hips shuddered
as she lowered onto me.  Not low enough, not long enough.
   I couldn't get out of the loop.  I cleaned her property, her house, her
bathroom.  When I finished the job, she was sleep.  The covers were turned
down in passive invitation.
   I walked the house, checked the locks, the windows.  Back in her
bedroom. I needed to lock myself on the other side of her door, not bury
myself inside her.  I pulled the covers up and changed.  I lay on the bed
and put my head on my paws.
   Terrible decision.  I smelled her.  The clarity of my senses made the
loop in my mind that much more intense.  The scent of her filled my head,
the sound, the memory.  It was a long, painful time before I fell asleep.
   ***
   My hand smoothed the silky fur down for the hundredth time, but I didn't
open my eyes and realize what I had been doing until I scratched behind an
ear.  Here I lay, curled next to the full length of a dark red, nearly
black Delrew in beast form.  His eyes opened when I stopped petting him.
   I smoothed my hand down his side.  Good.  I'm glad he chose to sleep
this way.  I needed to remember what he was.  A beast.  An animal.  I
pulled my hand back, eased out of bed, and stretched.
   Excellent sleep.  Restorative.
   He padded out of my room before I got dressed.
   We spent breakfast in silence, primarily because he chose to stay in his
beast form.  I walked the grounds, undid my fortification wards.  Power
flowed back into me in tiny incremental rushes, like moorings on my power
being steadily undone.  Whole again.  Powerful again.  I nearly died
yesterday.  Blacked out twice.  Goodness knows I've never been tested so
greatly, never expected to need much in the way of reserves.
   Behind me, the beast pawed the ground nervously as I undid the last of
my wards.
   I glanced back at him and grinned.  "Yeah," I beamed, "I am Layali, a
witch no longer weakened by my storm wards." I was filled with the glow of
renewal now, but I'd balance out soon enough.
   I stretched out on the grass under the sun.  Powerful.  Alive.  I arched
my back to the sunlight.  Oh, if only those poaching bastards had breached
my fucking domain while I was like this.
   Alex ran.  He hugged the border of my property like he was a race horse.
Was he thinking of all those terrible things I might do to him?  Did he
really think me so fragile as to need him?
   Yesterday, but that was a special case.  I -(TM)d been in a weakened
state.
   I didn't need him around.  I could support myself.  I didn't need any
one.  If I could make a life outside the coven and its vicious politics ...
no children, no lovers, no euphoria of group ritual.  Just this hollow echo
of my power coming back after having been drained.
   Alex disappeared and I never saw him again that day.  He ran off, as
animals are want to do.
   Just as well.
   ***
   He didn't return that day or the next.  So much for not having anywhere
to go.  I had work to do anyway.  This property didn't keep itself.  I
scrubbed his scent from my house, my bed.  He smelled good, but it had to
go.  I pulled equipment from the barn, a little more each day.  I tended my
garden, my flower beds.  Did my hunting, topped off the stores.
   Routine.  Sweet, tedious, routine.
   Two weeks later, my phone rang.
   "Hello?"
   "My word, Kam.  Why didn't you call me?" Yuzuki, her tone stern, but
friendly.
   "About what?"
   "About what, she says.  About the poachers!"
   Oh, yes.  "How did you know about that?"
   "We had," she cleared her throat, "a visitor.  You remember Casey?"
   "Yes."
   "She got pregnant, twins." Twins were sacred to witches, any multiple
birth.  Powerful offspring.  "She and the babies aren't doing well,
critical condition.  She set poachers out to find a curative, an
alternative to terminating."
   "Yuzuki!" I shrieked.  "I nearly died!"
   "Yes.  Tragic.  I assure you once those cretins get a taste of the
bounty to be made little stops them."
   I sank to my chair.  "What happened?"
   "A man showed up, and by man, I'm issuing a title of the utmost respect.
We nearly killed him, but I recognized the artifact container he carried."
   Artifacts taken by poachers were typically stored away in witch-built
boxes.  He?  I stayed silent and let Yuzuki continue.
   "You know those beasts that can devour flesh and know things?  Well,
he's one of them.  He says he learned about Casey this way." Yuzuki made a
retching sound, but her voice softened.  "He," she sighed and her typically
stern tone softened, "he told me that if his family had to die, he
preferred that their last act was toward saving the life of a child.  Oh,
but I could just see it in his eyes, you know the accusation."
   "Just that?"
   "Hell no!" Yuzuki spat.  "He had a price, but," she hummed, "I wasn't
beyond paying it.  Twins, after all."
   "What?"
   Yuzuki chucked and hummed.  "I love when you play innocent.  I heard
about your 'sar om lux'."
   The trade of life: I save you; you save me.  I swallowed thickly.  I
buried my shaking hand under my arm.  "And so?"
   "Poor thing nearly pissed himself, but I made him the charm."
   "A charm?" Why would he go to the witch coven for something I was fully
capable of making?
   Yuzuki barely contained her giggle.  "To protect him from being claimed
by a witch."
   My face reddened.  "I would never!  How dare that fucking--"
   Yuzuki howled with laughter.  I imagined her straining to stay upright
as she doubled over with laughter.  "I know!  When he asked I cried from
laughing so hard.  I'm sure you're managing in that hovel you call a home,
but to think you would ever stoop so low as to take an animal like that
into your service."
   "Not as if I would ever see him again.  Those ...  they can find other
families, right?"
   "There is that." Yuzuki cleared her voice.  "He made mention of his mate
having passed.  It seems he just needed to be sure he'd stay ... 
independent." The giggles were back.  "I mean, there are a couple secrets
about the ...  damn it, what is their name?  Anyway, there's nothing so
useful about those beasts as to warrant wasting a claim."
   Secrets?  What secrets?  "I'm glad Casey is well, yes?"
   Yuzuki snorted.  "Until the babies are weened, then she will be executed
for endangering the life of a Layali."
   Not for the murder of a Delrew family.  How was he supposed to start
over when he didn't even have a mate?
   "...should really learn to obtain these items with people on a shorter
leash.  These things wouldn't happen to you if you didn't live in
seclusion."
   "If it's my life that was endangered.  I pardon Casey.  As you said,
it's my choice to call this hovel my home.  Twins needs a good, steady
upbringing.  Find another way to censure her."
   "You belong here at the coven, Kam.  I'm just keeping your seat warm."
   "Thank you for calling to check up.  I am at peace with my seclusion."
   Yuzuki huffed.  "You know where to find us when that gets old."
   ***
   All roads led back to her.  I knew this for a fact.  I took several
directions away and made a long boomerang back to her house each time.
   Fear and loathing.  Passion and desire.
   Rewind.  Replay.
   Every time, like an echo.  That one moment of bliss.
   The charm did nothing to end it, not that I trusted the head witch.  I
had the charm confirmed by another source.  It would sever and repel any
witch's attempt at control.
   That made the ache I felt within something different.
   I pulled my car into the drive, sat there in the dark.  I got out,
walked.  I caught a scent and followed it to the backyard.  She lay out on
a blanket in the grass, a pair of panties and not a stitch more.  She blew
a trail of smoke from her lips that seemed to twinkle in the moonlight.
   Her heavy lidded eyes opened and she smiled.  "Look at you," her words
were slow, sultry, a sweet caress over his skin.  "All dressed up." She
patted the blanket beside her.  "Take all that off and join me."
   I was only too happy to undress.  "Are you protected out here ...  like
that?"
   She took a drag from the cigar in her hand.  Those faint sparkles rose
from the smoke at the end as well.  "Fully.  I let you through the ward at
my gate." She exhaled, long and slow.  Beautiful lips.
   Did she miss me?  Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her nipples
erect, like they had been that day.  Seeing her again was delicious as hell
was painful.  I settled onto the blanket beside her, but not touching her.
I favored this languid nature of hers.
   "How did you lose your mate?"
   Yes.  Hell indeed.  I growled and she rolled onto me, blew smoke in my
face.  "Breathe it in." She flicked the loose chain around my neck.  "What
are you afraid of?" She inhaled on her cigar then blew in my face.
   Reluctantly, I accepted the smoke into my lungs.
   She put the cigar in my hand, looked me over with that serene
countenance.  I took a drag and let the night expand around me.  What were
already well-honed senses compounded.  I could feel, hear, almost see
everything.  Of course she knew the moment I drove up.  I could hear the
animals in the woods, but it wasn't overload.  It was like having a birds
eye view of the night and the ability to zoom in on any part of it.  Her
heart beat, her breath, her scent, her heat, her sound.
   "I'll take that now," her voice coursed through me.
   I put my hands out on either side of me, as if I were trying to keep
myself from sinking into the ground.
   "What happened?" She asked.
   "She died shortly after giving birth."
   She nodded.  "My condolences."
   Kamela handed the cigar back to me and I took another drag.  Anger and
sorrow wanted to rise, but they couldn't.  Good stuff.  I could see why it
kept her so calm.
   "I see why you braved the coven gates.  You would have easily
slaughtered a house full of witches if it meant the life of your mate or
your children.  Your kind is vicious when it comes to your own."
   "Easily," I agreed, "but..."
   "Always the but.  Do you know why I'm out here?  Did you ask my sisters
that?"
   I shook my head.  I tried to speak as little about her as possible.
   "This is my nunnery, my solitary confinement, my sanctuary.  I could be
everything." Whatever emotion she would have called up just then was muted.
She leaned back, her breasts rose and she blew rings over her head.  "I am
every hellish and nightmarish thing you fear.  The woman you spoke with is
supposed to be my place holder, but I gave it up.  Out here, I can't become
that nightmare.  I am without temptation." She sat up and looked down on me
with a leer, a smile that hinted at a temptation.  "You, too, even after
your mate passed.  You were a leader?"
   "Like your word for princesa." My hand reached over to cup her breast.
My finger brushed over that pert nipple.  I needed to feel her.  The
corners of my mouth curled into a grin.  She was such a beautiful woman.
   "Your kind." She chuckled.  "Princesa is a high seat."
   I nodded.  The further to fall.  My eyes closed.  I just wanted to feel
her.
   "You know you're fondling me right now?"
   "Yes." I didn't stop.  All I could think of was her.  Rewind.  Replay.
Warmth.  Moisture.  Tight.
   ***
   So much for seclusion from temptation.  I smiled as he played with my
twin distractions.
   "What's the reaction if a Layali claims a Delrew?" I used the terms of
respect, seeing as how I was in such a wonderful mood, straddling a
handsome man who appeared transfixed by my body.
   Alex's head was an open book and it spilled onto me.  By his account,
the Layali would become drunk on the potential power.
   "Then why don't we ever do it?  Seems like all stars to me."
   "There's more.  The Layali commits suicide by power drain, like you
experienced, except you'd never get the reactions.  You'd think you were
bottomless when you were bottoming out.  Then you have to expend more power
trying to control the bond, over time, the strand is stretched so thin that
it snaps.  A captured Delrew would not dare lift a hand to help."
   "You have a defense against being claimed then."
   "Yes.  That is why the Layali do not try, not unless they want to go out
in a blaze of glory."
   "Why the charm then?" I asked before I could stop myself.
   He looked at me and confirmed my answer.  I could see it in his eyes. 
"When I realized how powerful you were, that you could find out what I was.
I couldn't sit by and watch you kill yourself." He groaned.  "I should not
divulge these things.  These secrets keep our kind safe."
   "Hush," I purred in his ear as I rubbed my body to his.  "There is only
you and me here."
   We lay out in the yard till sunrise, playing around like the stoned
adults we were.  I let my hands touch him as freely as his hands roamed
over me.  Innocent in some ways, lurid and curious in others.  Two
beautiful bodies admiring each other, floating on a mutual high.
   That is all it was.
   ***
   Kamela and Alex played around, hung out like platonic friends for weeks.
They stayed up late, worked outside, laid out under the moonlight.
   One night, Alex and Kamela were lying on the living room floor prepping
some herbs.  Afterward, they launched into a game of chase.
   Alex cornered Kamela on the back corner of the porch.
   "I give," Kamela panted and put her hands up.  "Damn, you're good
hunter."
   "You give good chase," Alex closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of
her sweat, her body, her pounding heart.  He sprang to life with a dull
ache, but didn't take a step away.
   It was just a reflex, it would pass.
   Kamela reached out and put her arms around him, rubbed her thigh against
him.  "Why do we act like such children?"
   "Can't forget how much it repulses you to be with me?"
   "Ever heard of grudge fucking?  I've totally fucked out of hate."
   "That would have been easier when I hated you." Alex nipped Kamela
lightly on the shoulder.  "I love you more than I fear you, but I know you
would never bear my children, and--"
   Kamela shoved him playfully and walked back to the living room.  "Oh
stop it, I would if I could."
   Alex grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.  "You would bear my
young?"
   Kamela grinned and stared at the hand on her arm.  "See?  When you say
it like that, it sounds weird."
   "Would you?"
   "If I could," Kamela stressed carefully.
   Alex pulled her into his arms.  Locked his eyes with hers.  "Would you?"
He emphasized.
   "Alex.  I need you to stop.  I don't understand what you want.  This
isn't a game." She shook her head.  "Such a bond never happens.  Delrew
kill Layali.  Layali kill Delrew.  A child born half in each world.  The
young, if it could be conceived, would be murdered in my womb.  Your kind
doesn't know how to fuck for fun?"
   "I would have fucked you for fun months ago," Alex growled.  "I want
you," he snapped, silencing Kamela's protest.  "I want more of you." His
smothered her with a kiss as he pressed her to the wall.  "Would you bare
my young?  Answer me, woman."
   Kamela felt a heat slide along her inner walls.  Involuntary reaction,
she told herself, any male could do this.  But that flutter in her belly,
the actual patter of her heart?  "I can't claim you," she whispered when he
pulled away.
   Alex let go of her and lifted the necklace off his neck.  He turned and
chucked the charm off the back porch into the garden.  "Kamela, I want you
for my mate.  Do you accept?"
   She laughed.  "Your females have to accept?"
   "You're insufferable," he smirked.  "Yes.  Every single one.  A Delrew
chooses who he will protect, but protection can only be given if it is
accepted.  Do you?"
   Kamela looked to the garden, the spot where the charm landed.  He'd
submit to her?  Willingly?  Or was she submitting to him?  She didn't know
enough about Delrew bonds, only that she feared for the men taken in her
tradition.
   "I accept, Alex.  I, Kamela Damaton, claim you, Alex Dawn, as my own.  I
will ...  bear your young." She placed her hand behind his neck, sending
the spell of claiming into his spine, and he kissed her again as it took
hold.
   She braced herself for the pain.  She had witnessed a claiming spell
before.  It was paralyzingly painful, if the person being claimed was any
indication.  She tasted blood in her mouth, not her blood, and then the
swirl and maelstrom of emotion Alex described as being shared by Delrew
mates.
   They sank to the floor and shared their first, true sexual union.  He
felt powerful inside her, not just in her body.  Kamela felt him in her
head, in her gut instincts.  She knew he had access to all of her.  She
felt him as well, his power, the strength.  She felt his yearning.  He was
aroused, enraptured, ravenous for her body.
   And that was all it needed to be.
   <->
   Epilogue: Alex Dawn is a special name, he's the son of Lucian and Serena
from 'Torment of Angels.' (Published work.) Alex and Kamela are characters
with souls in a few different stories: Play Book, Flirtation.
Written: June 2009
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
Witch_Werewolf