Love Between Enemies
Spring
This story is rated mature for depictions of nudity and violence and adult themes. No readers under the age of 18, please.
Kara sat on the ledge of the promontory, heedless of the jagged rocks below that gleamed in the light of a waning gibbous moon. She took a long swig from the bottle of cheap red wine that she’d pilfered from the dead crossbowman’s bedroll. It didn’t matter how it tasted. What mattered was that with every ounce, she felt further away from the carnage of the Battle of the Crofter’s Road.
The “road” was a dirt path amid the towering pines of the Forest Evermore, a prime defensive position for the self-styled Lord Caisar to put his shield wall and pikes. By mid-morning, broken bodies had lined the dirt path like bloody cobblestones: humans and horses, here and there the occasional werewolf, their bright eyes glossy and their fur matted with blood. But the dead didn’t faze Kara. The image that lingered in her mind like the scars on her body was that of the wounded. They turned the road into a faceless, living thing that writhed and squelched, screaming in pain in a dozen languages, bloodied hands grabbing her paws.
She took another drink.
At noon, she and the other two hundred werewolves of the Great Northern Company had spearheaded the third cavalry charge and the shield wall finally buckled. Lord Caisar’s men, who’d spent the morning killing from behind the relative safety of their shields found themselves so tightly packed together in the forest that a werewolf’s jaws became a thousand times deadlier than unwieldy pikes or long-ranged bows. Lord Caisar’s head had been her captain’s prize. She’d contented herself with the wine and a teenaged knight’s riding boots.
It had, she supposed, been a glorious day. There would be new contracts and more work. The locals might even start singing drinking songs about the Wolves of the Crofter’s Road. They’d be legends... or they might get a new contract to sack and burn all the little villages and towns they’d saved. And why not? Sheep were sheep, regardless of their flock. What difference did it make who she paid to save and who she was paid to kill?
But there had been a difference.
The night before the battle, she’d met a blonde, freckled young militiawoman from the little village on the mountains with long, straight hair like golden curtains. Her kisses had tasted of peach brandy. They’d passed the bottle between them until the militiawoman had shown the voluptuous body that she hid under roughspun cloth and leather armor. Kara remembered the freckles on her breasts and the gap between her teeth. What she couldn’t remember was the militiawoman’s name. It was lost in a sea of brandy.
If she’d known that her employer’s battle plan was to isolate the women’s militia on their left flank as bait for the Grey Scythes, Lord Caisar’s hired werewolves…
Kara drank.
She liked to think that she would’ve warned the militiawoman, but she knew better. It hadn’t been the first time she’d seen a commander use militia as sacrificial lambs and wouldn’t likely be the last. She should’ve known to stay away from the doomed woman. It was, if anything, good that she couldn’t remember her name.
She drank.
Kara had seen what remained of the militia after the battle. The Grey Scythe had taken scalps. One of them, she imagined, had long blonde hair like golden curtains.
She took a long slurp, finishing the bottle, and then tossed it into the darkness. It reappeared for a moment in the moonlight and then disappeared forever. The shattering of glass echoed among the rocks and then the night fell silent once more.
Kara sighed. Finding another bottle would mean walking back to her company’s encampment and running the gauntlet of drunken, celebrating werewolves. But it beat being sober. Slowly she stood, swaying slightly, and turned from the ledge.
For a moment, she saw something move in the darkness along the treeline; a shadow darker than the moonlight night. Judging from its shape, it was a tall, lithe human wearing a cloak, most likely a woman. Women didn’t scare her, but she knew that she could just as easily be a fellow werewolf – or worse. Quickly, Kara grabbed the silver-bladed axe on her belt.
“What do you want?” barked Kara, dropping into a stable if slightly swaying fighting stance. “I killed a dozen men today. You want to make it thirteen?”
The stranger shuddered, hurriedly shaking her head.
“My apologies,” she said with a soft, lilting voice. “I heard the broken glass and worried that someone may have fallen. I mean no harm.”
The woman stepped forward, into the moonlight, her hands raised in surrender.
“That’s close enough!” barked Kara.
“As you wish, my lady.”
“I’m no lady. I’m a sergeant of the Great Northern Company.”
“My apologies, sergeant.” Her eyes wandered over Kara’s body, the faintest of smiles crossing her face. “This place? It’s so quiet, so peaceful. I suspect I come here for much the same reason you do.”
Kara blinked, trying to focus her wine-addled vision. The stranger looked to be around her age, a bit over twenty. She was far too confident in the face of a trained killer to be a common peasant and was certainly not a mercenary, given that she was walking around the woods unarmed aside from her apologies. Besides the fact, Kara felt confident that she was highborn, judging from her fine black tunic, heavy cloak, and thick, smoothly contoured wool skirt far beyond the means of a commoner. Her fine features, unblemished skin as light as porcelain, and black, carefully combed hair bespoke a legion of servants whose life’s purpose was to make her natural beauty all the greater. But what caught Kara’s attention most of all were her eyes: as bright as a fox’s in the moonlight.
Bright eyes… red eyes. Kara looked closer. The woman had pale skin like marble and pointed ears. On their own, none of these were unusual features for a noble. But combined, she recognized the face from paintings and tapestries of her ancestors fighting their ancient enemies. The humans thought their kind to be extinct, but humans were fools. She knew what the stranger was.
Kara snarled. “VAMPIRE!”
She brandished her axe and her human fangs. What did the vampire want? To claim her as a thrall? To conscript her into the Fang, the vampires’ private army, as a slave-soldier - or worse, as a breeding bitch? To take her pelt as a rug? It didn’t matter.
“You want to die, freak?” snarled Kara. “If you’re here for me, I’d be happy to take that head of yours.”
The vampire winced like a child being slapped by a trusted friend.
“Yes… I am a vampire, but as I said, I mean no harm,” she said. “There’s no need for violence.”
Kara snorted. “Yeah, as long as I don’t struggle when you put a collar around my fucking neck.”
“No,” said the vampire, shaking her head. “I… I know how vampires usually treat your kind, but I would never do such an evil thing. Never!”
Her words gave Kara pause. She knew that vampires were dangerous not just because of their powers and wealth, but because their favorite weapons were lies and promises. And yet… the vampire before her trembled and shook. As a sergeant, it was her duty to recognize fear in new recruits and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the vampire was genuinely terrified. She seemed less of a monster and more of a young noblewoman who had just encountered a highwayman and was suddenly conspicuous of her wealth and beauty.
“Please put the axe away,” said the vampire. “I promise that I’ve only come for solitude. It’s… it’s a shock for me to see a werewolf here. Especially a beautiful one.”
Kara wasn’t naïve, but she wanted to believe that the vampire was different from her kind, that every word of flattery was the purest truth. And more than that, she didn’t dare show weakness. Besides, the silver axe was next to useless. She stuck it back into her belt, knowing that her claws and teeth would serve her better if there was a fight.
The vampire smiled softly, keeping her fangs hidden, and lowered her hands.
“Thank you, sergeant,” she said. “‘Sergeant’... I feel silly calling you that, like we’re in a barracks. Do you have a name?”
“Why?” snorted Kara.
“I’m sorry.” The vampire’s smile faded. “I just… I’ve met a few free werewolves, mostly mercenaries, but never a she-wolf. I’m just so curious...”
Her eyes lowered to stare at Kara’s looted riding boots. They stood in silence for a time. Kara wasn’t sure if the vampire was plotting or just nervous, but she was standing directly between her and her encampment. If she intended to get back to her company, she would have to get around the vampire one way or another.
“I forgot my manners,” said the vampire. She looked up with her wide red eyes. Kara met her gaze. “My name is Lady Isabella Dolingen, the ninth born of Lord Hamilcar Dolingen and baroness of this fiefdom, among others. I’m… not your employer directly, but my father’s gold paid your contract, so I suppose we have a connection.” She dropped low into a curtsy. “We may not be the richest or most powerful family, sergeant, but we are certainly not paupers.”
Kara tilted her head. The captain had made no mention of the fact that they’d been bankrolled by vampires, perhaps for fear of mutiny or because he’d been ignorant of the fact, but it resonated in her mind. Lady Dolingen had hired them to protect her towns and her people. Perhaps they were mere cattle in her mind, resources to be kept alive to be taxed and fed upon, but what if it was more than that? Could a vampire truly love her people in the same way as a good king? She thought it possible. And the possibility was enough to be worthy of politeness.
“I’m Sergeant Mackinaw, Second Sergeant of the Fifth Line of the Great Northern Company. You can call me ‘Kara.’ Because I don’t care about my family name, noble or not. See, what we have in common is our families are both a pack of evil assholes.”
She bit her lip. The words had been born of wine, not courtesy – and certainly not common sense. Her hand dropped to the axe on her belt. But Lady Dolingen merely giggled.
“You’re rather coarse for a highborn,” she said. “But you are certainly correct.”
“Barely highborn,” said Kara. “My tribe is a gods-damned backwater bunch. I’m a soldier at heart, not a noble.”
“I certainly meant no insult. If anything, it shows that you’re wild at heart – and all the more beautiful.” Lady Dolingen smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kara.”
Slowly and haltingly, like an aged, poorly oiled clock, Lady Dolingen extended a pale hand wearing a multitude of rings, the traditional gesture of a noblewoman greeting a knight. Kara knew the proper response, but it would mean getting far, far closer. Close enough to have her throat slit or a collar put around her neck. She walked forward slowly, pretending that her heart wasn’t pounding. Gently, she took the vampire’s hand into her own. It was cool to the touch yet soft, the nails well-manicured, and the fingers decorated with golden rings. Kara couldn’t say if her courage was born of wine, the practical concern that fleeing would show weakness, or the apathy born of the slaughter she’d witnessed in the morning, but she knelt before the vampire, bowing her head, and kissed the ring on her fourth finger, a ruby gemstone the size of a sparrow egg.
“You are a noble wolf!” said Lady Dolingen with a giggle.
“Not quite,” said Kara with a smirk. “When you’re in the service, the first things they teach you are discipline and customs and courtesies. Beast or not, either you learn to be a good dog or you learn what the whip feels like.”
Lady Dolingen’s smile vanished in an instant. She gently squeezed Kara’s hand. “Oh, you poor thing. I hope they didn’t hurt you.”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “I can handle leather, but I hear that your people use silver when they flog their wolves.”
Lady Dolingen froze, her eyes wide. Her pale cheeks turned pink. She crossed her arms over her body, shaking her head slowly, her eyes tightly closed. Kara thought for a moment that she even saw the glint of tears. Icy bile churned in the pit of her stomach. She’d offended her.
Kara was ready for the vampire to lash out or lunge for her throat, but Lady Dolingen trembled, as if it was Kara who was the deadly predator. It was ludicrous. Vampires were the enemies of werewolves; beings of pure evil who lived to drink blood, dominate, and enslave. And yet… there were tears in the vampire’s eyes.
Kara nearly let go. Nearly. Instead, she waited, loosely clutching the cool hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Kara. “I’ve never met a vampire noblewoman. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.”
Lady Dolingen gently squeezed Kara’s hands. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your kind hate and fear mine – for good reason – but when I asked, you put your weapon away. You’ve been polite. You’ve been chivalrous. You’ve even shown me kindness.” She bit her lip with a long fang, looking down at Kara’s hands. “You’ve had more patience with me than my family ever has.”
They stood together in silence. Kara gazed into the vampire’s red eyes, trying to imagine what lay behind them. The court life of werewolves and humans involved a bunch of self-important types sitting around, each vying for the title of Most Important. Was vampires’ court life any different? It had to be even worse. Lady Dolingen had mentioned being the ninth-born and the acting baroness of the county. Kara had certainly seen enough of her lands during the campaign to be distinctly underwhelmed by the rocks, evergreens, and filthy villages. For all her wealth and the power of her bloodline, she was, like Kara, a bottom-rung noble on the fringe of high society.
Maybe that was why she seemed to be the opposite of nearly everything Kara had heard about vampires. Lady Dolingen had revealed her true self. Kara supposed that she owed her the same courtesy.
“Would you like to see me in my true form?” said Kara. “You know, the real me in all my fanged glory?”
Lady Dolingen smiled, revealing her fangs. “I’d love to.”
Kara kissed the vampire’s hand and then stepped back, removing her armor first.
“I have to warn you,” she said. “Werewolves don’t have much in the way of modesty, but I’m different from most werewolves.”
Lady Dolingen nodded and looked off to the side, partly covering her eyes.
“No, no, no…” said Kara. “I don’t have much modesty either. I’m saying that I’m different in other ways. Let me show you.”
With a smirk, she pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it aside, baring her chest. Kara took pride in her body, strengthened by years of warfare, and loved flaunting it. Her skin was covered in a variety of tattoos, from her hips to her neck, marred by the occasional scar. A pair of steel bars pierced each of her nipples. Lady Dolingen’s eyes widened. Her pale skin became pink.
“Did… did they… hurt?” she asked.
“They did, but lots of things are worth a bit of pain.”
Kara smirked, flicking her nipple piercings, and then continued to undress, baring more skin and more tattoos and scars and, eventually, her womanhood and the carefully shaven, razor-thin line of hair that covered it. The vampire’s seemed to grow pinker with every moment, until her white skin was nearly as colorful as a human’s.
“Like what you see?” said Kara, giving her buttocks a hard slap for emphasis.
Lady Dolingen squirmed on her feet, her eyes darting from the ground to Kara’s body. “I… I… yes. Yes, I do. Very much. I’ve… never seen a woman’s body that’s just so…” She smiled. “Incredible.”
“Just wait until you see what comes next, my beautiful blood-drinker.”
Kara knelt on the rocks, smiling at the vampire, and then let her wolf come unto her. The change began within her heart, every throb bringing burning agony like silver, but she endured as always. Her ribs, hips, and shoulders broke and healed within seconds as they expanded, her skin stretched, and her growing muscles ached like she’d completed a two-hundred-mile death march in full armor. Kara held back a scream, forcing herself to smile at Lady Dolingen as she felt a thousand pinpricks on her body, as if every inch of her skin were being pierced in the same moment.
Lady Dolingen looked intently at her with her bright red eyes, covering her chin with pale hand. Kara thought she looked like a young naturalist studying a caged Lamia.
Kara collapsed onto her belly, spluttering for breath as her wolf began to reshape her spine, first bulking it out to bear her weight and then growing fresh vertebra until a stub of a tail took form above her buttocks, turning gradually into a bushy new limb that tucked itself between her legs. Her feet lengthened with a loud crack, eight of her toes widening while the other two shrank to become dewclaws. Her hands grew, becoming thicker and heavier, her nails darkening to become long, curved talons and her palms toughening into paw pads.
Kara knew it was almost over. Slowly, she rose to her knees, careful not to look down at her half-formed body. It was more than enough to feel her muscles bulging and her fur prickling as it grew. Her nipples ached in agony as her body tried unsuccessfully to expel the piercings within. She closed her eyes and exhaled, feeling her ears yanked upwards, every ring embedded in the cartilage burning like silver. This was the quiet of the storm, her mother had once taught her. What came next would be the worst.
Her head exploded as if she’d been hit in the face with a war hammer. She snarled as her muzzle grew with loud cracks of bone and wet crunches of cartilage. Growing fangs filled her mouth with blood. Her tongue felt like it was begin torn out of her mouth by hot pincers. Every second felt like an hour, but she knew it was so close to being over. There was a final loud crack in her spine. Her vision disappeared for a moment and then returned, the night bright in her now-yellow eyes.
The pain was gone in an instant, like a campfire smothered under a blanket. She rose to her feet slowly, stretching up to her full height to stand head and shoulders taller than the vampire. A smirk stretched across her muzzle. She knew just to impress her audience. With a deep breath, Kara threw back her head and howled as loud as she could, looking up at the half moon. It didn’t matter who heard. The howl was for the vampire; to show that even if her transformation was ugly and painful, it didn’t crush her spirit. She was a werewolf. This was what she did. It came as naturally as breathing.
When she lowered her head, she saw that Lady Dolingen was staring at her. Her lips were parted to reveal fangs as her eyes wandered along Kara’s body like a long-traveling pilgrim viewing a holy relic.
“Beautiful,” she said. “Simply beautiful… may I… touch you?
Kara nodded. The vampire walked slowly towards her and reached out with trembling, jewelry-clad pale white hands. Kara thought that she didn’t look like a vampire baroness, but rather a child curious about a hot stove. She smiled with her fangs and lowered herself onto her haunches, doing her best to look unthreatening. Cold fingers ran through the fur on Kara’s back, gently squeezing muscles, and rubbing her arms. Kara purred like a contented dog, leaning into her touch, her tail swaying slowly. The vampire’s fingers combed through her fur, rubbing and caressing her wide neck, her broad shoulders, and finally, the soft ruff of fur along her chest, closer and closer to some of her most sensitive places until… a finger brushed the metal of a piercing.
Lady Dolingen gasped, pulling her hands back as if Kara had bitten her fingers.
“I’m sorry! she yelped. “I certainly didn’t mean that… that I’d want to, you know… violate your honor or… or… that I…”
Kara smirked. Gently, she took one of pale, cold hands into her enormous, clawed and padded paw and guided it back to the piercing, licking her lips. Lady Dolingen’s pale cheeks turned pink. Slowly, she panted for breath, her fingers squeezing the firm flesh of her nipple and the hard metal contained within.
“Oh…” she said. “That’s… how that is.”
She gave the piercing another squeeze, twisting it slowly. A gentle purr emanated from Kara’s throat. Lady Dolingen smiled, shifting on her feet.
“Do you know a place that might be… more private?” said Lady Dolingen. “I would shudder to think of one of your comrades finding us here, wrapped up with one another.”
Kara raised her brow. She understood that there was certainly a risk in going off to a secretive place with a vampire, but at the same time, she felt like she knew Lady Dolingen as well as a werewolf could ever truly know one. The noblewoman had shown her respect and patience – and now had shown her something else entirely. More than curiosity. More than even lust. She wanted her.
Gently, she took the vampire’s hand and lead her through the trees and deeper into the Evermore Forest.
***
Kara sat on the ledge of the promontory, heedless of the jagged rocks below that gleamed in the light of a waning gibbous moon. She took a long swig from the bottle of cheap red wine that she’d pilfered from the dead crossbowman’s bedroll. It didn’t matter how it tasted. What mattered was that with every ounce, she felt further away from the carnage of the Battle of the Crofter’s Road.
The “road” was a dirt path amid the towering pines of the Forest Evermore, a prime defensive position for the self-styled Lord Caisar to put his shield wall and pikes. By mid-morning, broken bodies had lined the dirt path like bloody cobblestones: humans and horses, here and there the occasional werewolf, their bright eyes glossy and their fur matted with blood. But the dead didn’t faze Kara. The image that lingered in her mind like the scars on her body was that of the wounded. They turned the road into a faceless, living thing that writhed and squelched, screaming in pain in a dozen languages, bloodied hands grabbing her paws.
She took another drink.
At noon, she and the other two hundred werewolves of the Great Northern Company had spearheaded the third cavalry charge and the shield wall finally buckled. Lord Caisar’s men, who’d spent the morning killing from behind the relative safety of their shields found themselves so tightly packed together in the forest that a werewolf’s jaws became a thousand times deadlier than unwieldy pikes or long-ranged bows. Lord Caisar’s head had been her captain’s prize. She’d contented herself with the wine and a teenaged knight’s riding boots.
It had, she supposed, been a glorious day. There would be new contracts and more work. The locals might even start singing drinking songs about the Wolves of the Crofter’s Road. They’d be legends... or they might get a new contract to sack and burn all the little villages and towns they’d saved. And why not? Sheep were sheep, regardless of their flock. What difference did it make who she paid to save and who she was paid to kill?
But there had been a difference.
The night before the battle, she’d met a blonde, freckled young militiawoman from the little village on the mountains with long, straight hair like golden curtains. Her kisses had tasted of peach brandy. They’d passed the bottle between them until the militiawoman had shown the voluptuous body that she hid under roughspun cloth and leather armor. Kara remembered the freckles on her breasts and the gap between her teeth. What she couldn’t remember was the militiawoman’s name. It was lost in a sea of brandy.
If she’d known that her employer’s battle plan was to isolate the women’s militia on their left flank as bait for the Grey Scythes, Lord Caisar’s hired werewolves…
Kara drank.
She liked to think that she would’ve warned the militiawoman, but she knew better. It hadn’t been the first time she’d seen a commander use militia as sacrificial lambs and wouldn’t likely be the last. She should’ve known to stay away from the doomed woman. It was, if anything, good that she couldn’t remember her name.
She drank.
Kara had seen what remained of the militia after the battle. The Grey Scythe had taken scalps. One of them, she imagined, had long blonde hair like golden curtains.
She took a long slurp, finishing the bottle, and then tossed it into the darkness. It reappeared for a moment in the moonlight and then disappeared forever. The shattering of glass echoed among the rocks and then the night fell silent once more.
Kara sighed. Finding another bottle would mean walking back to her company’s encampment and running the gauntlet of drunken, celebrating werewolves. But it beat being sober. Slowly she stood, swaying slightly, and turned from the ledge.
For a moment, she saw something move in the darkness along the treeline; a shadow darker than the moonlight night. Judging from its shape, it was a tall, lithe human wearing a cloak, most likely a woman. Women didn’t scare her, but she knew that she could just as easily be a fellow werewolf – or worse. Quickly, Kara grabbed the silver-bladed axe on her belt.
“What do you want?” barked Kara, dropping into a stable if slightly swaying fighting stance. “I killed a dozen men today. You want to make it thirteen?”
The stranger shuddered, hurriedly shaking her head.
“My apologies,” she said with a soft, lilting voice. “I heard the broken glass and worried that someone may have fallen. I mean no harm.”
The woman stepped forward, into the moonlight, her hands raised in surrender.
“That’s close enough!” barked Kara.
“As you wish, my lady.”
“I’m no lady. I’m a sergeant of the Great Northern Company.”
“My apologies, sergeant.” Her eyes wandered over Kara’s body, the faintest of smiles crossing her face. “This place? It’s so quiet, so peaceful. I suspect I come here for much the same reason you do.”
Kara blinked, trying to focus her wine-addled vision. The stranger looked to be around her age, a bit over twenty. She was far too confident in the face of a trained killer to be a common peasant and was certainly not a mercenary, given that she was walking around the woods unarmed aside from her apologies. Besides the fact, Kara felt confident that she was highborn, judging from her fine black tunic, heavy cloak, and thick, smoothly contoured wool skirt far beyond the means of a commoner. Her fine features, unblemished skin as light as porcelain, and black, carefully combed hair bespoke a legion of servants whose life’s purpose was to make her natural beauty all the greater. But what caught Kara’s attention most of all were her eyes: as bright as a fox’s in the moonlight.
Bright eyes… red eyes. Kara looked closer. The woman had pale skin like marble and pointed ears. On their own, none of these were unusual features for a noble. But combined, she recognized the face from paintings and tapestries of her ancestors fighting their ancient enemies. The humans thought their kind to be extinct, but humans were fools. She knew what the stranger was.
Kara snarled. “VAMPIRE!”
She brandished her axe and her human fangs. What did the vampire want? To claim her as a thrall? To conscript her into the Fang, the vampires’ private army, as a slave-soldier - or worse, as a breeding bitch? To take her pelt as a rug? It didn’t matter.
“You want to die, freak?” snarled Kara. “If you’re here for me, I’d be happy to take that head of yours.”
The vampire winced like a child being slapped by a trusted friend.
“Yes… I am a vampire, but as I said, I mean no harm,” she said. “There’s no need for violence.”
Kara snorted. “Yeah, as long as I don’t struggle when you put a collar around my fucking neck.”
“No,” said the vampire, shaking her head. “I… I know how vampires usually treat your kind, but I would never do such an evil thing. Never!”
Her words gave Kara pause. She knew that vampires were dangerous not just because of their powers and wealth, but because their favorite weapons were lies and promises. And yet… the vampire before her trembled and shook. As a sergeant, it was her duty to recognize fear in new recruits and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the vampire was genuinely terrified. She seemed less of a monster and more of a young noblewoman who had just encountered a highwayman and was suddenly conspicuous of her wealth and beauty.
“Please put the axe away,” said the vampire. “I promise that I’ve only come for solitude. It’s… it’s a shock for me to see a werewolf here. Especially a beautiful one.”
Kara wasn’t naïve, but she wanted to believe that the vampire was different from her kind, that every word of flattery was the purest truth. And more than that, she didn’t dare show weakness. Besides, the silver axe was next to useless. She stuck it back into her belt, knowing that her claws and teeth would serve her better if there was a fight.
The vampire smiled softly, keeping her fangs hidden, and lowered her hands.
“Thank you, sergeant,” she said. “‘Sergeant’... I feel silly calling you that, like we’re in a barracks. Do you have a name?”
“Why?” snorted Kara.
“I’m sorry.” The vampire’s smile faded. “I just… I’ve met a few free werewolves, mostly mercenaries, but never a she-wolf. I’m just so curious...”
Her eyes lowered to stare at Kara’s looted riding boots. They stood in silence for a time. Kara wasn’t sure if the vampire was plotting or just nervous, but she was standing directly between her and her encampment. If she intended to get back to her company, she would have to get around the vampire one way or another.
“I forgot my manners,” said the vampire. She looked up with her wide red eyes. Kara met her gaze. “My name is Lady Isabella Dolingen, the ninth born of Lord Hamilcar Dolingen and baroness of this fiefdom, among others. I’m… not your employer directly, but my father’s gold paid your contract, so I suppose we have a connection.” She dropped low into a curtsy. “We may not be the richest or most powerful family, sergeant, but we are certainly not paupers.”
Kara tilted her head. The captain had made no mention of the fact that they’d been bankrolled by vampires, perhaps for fear of mutiny or because he’d been ignorant of the fact, but it resonated in her mind. Lady Dolingen had hired them to protect her towns and her people. Perhaps they were mere cattle in her mind, resources to be kept alive to be taxed and fed upon, but what if it was more than that? Could a vampire truly love her people in the same way as a good king? She thought it possible. And the possibility was enough to be worthy of politeness.
“I’m Sergeant Mackinaw, Second Sergeant of the Fifth Line of the Great Northern Company. You can call me ‘Kara.’ Because I don’t care about my family name, noble or not. See, what we have in common is our families are both a pack of evil assholes.”
She bit her lip. The words had been born of wine, not courtesy – and certainly not common sense. Her hand dropped to the axe on her belt. But Lady Dolingen merely giggled.
“You’re rather coarse for a highborn,” she said. “But you are certainly correct.”
“Barely highborn,” said Kara. “My tribe is a gods-damned backwater bunch. I’m a soldier at heart, not a noble.”
“I certainly meant no insult. If anything, it shows that you’re wild at heart – and all the more beautiful.” Lady Dolingen smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kara.”
Slowly and haltingly, like an aged, poorly oiled clock, Lady Dolingen extended a pale hand wearing a multitude of rings, the traditional gesture of a noblewoman greeting a knight. Kara knew the proper response, but it would mean getting far, far closer. Close enough to have her throat slit or a collar put around her neck. She walked forward slowly, pretending that her heart wasn’t pounding. Gently, she took the vampire’s hand into her own. It was cool to the touch yet soft, the nails well-manicured, and the fingers decorated with golden rings. Kara couldn’t say if her courage was born of wine, the practical concern that fleeing would show weakness, or the apathy born of the slaughter she’d witnessed in the morning, but she knelt before the vampire, bowing her head, and kissed the ring on her fourth finger, a ruby gemstone the size of a sparrow egg.
“You are a noble wolf!” said Lady Dolingen with a giggle.
“Not quite,” said Kara with a smirk. “When you’re in the service, the first things they teach you are discipline and customs and courtesies. Beast or not, either you learn to be a good dog or you learn what the whip feels like.”
Lady Dolingen’s smile vanished in an instant. She gently squeezed Kara’s hand. “Oh, you poor thing. I hope they didn’t hurt you.”
Kara raised an eyebrow. “I can handle leather, but I hear that your people use silver when they flog their wolves.”
Lady Dolingen froze, her eyes wide. Her pale cheeks turned pink. She crossed her arms over her body, shaking her head slowly, her eyes tightly closed. Kara thought for a moment that she even saw the glint of tears. Icy bile churned in the pit of her stomach. She’d offended her.
Kara was ready for the vampire to lash out or lunge for her throat, but Lady Dolingen trembled, as if it was Kara who was the deadly predator. It was ludicrous. Vampires were the enemies of werewolves; beings of pure evil who lived to drink blood, dominate, and enslave. And yet… there were tears in the vampire’s eyes.
Kara nearly let go. Nearly. Instead, she waited, loosely clutching the cool hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Kara. “I’ve never met a vampire noblewoman. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing.”
Lady Dolingen gently squeezed Kara’s hands. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your kind hate and fear mine – for good reason – but when I asked, you put your weapon away. You’ve been polite. You’ve been chivalrous. You’ve even shown me kindness.” She bit her lip with a long fang, looking down at Kara’s hands. “You’ve had more patience with me than my family ever has.”
They stood together in silence. Kara gazed into the vampire’s red eyes, trying to imagine what lay behind them. The court life of werewolves and humans involved a bunch of self-important types sitting around, each vying for the title of Most Important. Was vampires’ court life any different? It had to be even worse. Lady Dolingen had mentioned being the ninth-born and the acting baroness of the county. Kara had certainly seen enough of her lands during the campaign to be distinctly underwhelmed by the rocks, evergreens, and filthy villages. For all her wealth and the power of her bloodline, she was, like Kara, a bottom-rung noble on the fringe of high society.
Maybe that was why she seemed to be the opposite of nearly everything Kara had heard about vampires. Lady Dolingen had revealed her true self. Kara supposed that she owed her the same courtesy.
“Would you like to see me in my true form?” said Kara. “You know, the real me in all my fanged glory?”
Lady Dolingen smiled, revealing her fangs. “I’d love to.”
Kara kissed the vampire’s hand and then stepped back, removing her armor first.
“I have to warn you,” she said. “Werewolves don’t have much in the way of modesty, but I’m different from most werewolves.”
Lady Dolingen nodded and looked off to the side, partly covering her eyes.
“No, no, no…” said Kara. “I don’t have much modesty either. I’m saying that I’m different in other ways. Let me show you.”
With a smirk, she pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it aside, baring her chest. Kara took pride in her body, strengthened by years of warfare, and loved flaunting it. Her skin was covered in a variety of tattoos, from her hips to her neck, marred by the occasional scar. A pair of steel bars pierced each of her nipples. Lady Dolingen’s eyes widened. Her pale skin became pink.
“Did… did they… hurt?” she asked.
“They did, but lots of things are worth a bit of pain.”
Kara smirked, flicking her nipple piercings, and then continued to undress, baring more skin and more tattoos and scars and, eventually, her womanhood and the carefully shaven, razor-thin line of hair that covered it. The vampire’s seemed to grow pinker with every moment, until her white skin was nearly as colorful as a human’s.
“Like what you see?” said Kara, giving her buttocks a hard slap for emphasis.
Lady Dolingen squirmed on her feet, her eyes darting from the ground to Kara’s body. “I… I… yes. Yes, I do. Very much. I’ve… never seen a woman’s body that’s just so…” She smiled. “Incredible.”
“Just wait until you see what comes next, my beautiful blood-drinker.”
Kara knelt on the rocks, smiling at the vampire, and then let her wolf come unto her. The change began within her heart, every throb bringing burning agony like silver, but she endured as always. Her ribs, hips, and shoulders broke and healed within seconds as they expanded, her skin stretched, and her growing muscles ached like she’d completed a two-hundred-mile death march in full armor. Kara held back a scream, forcing herself to smile at Lady Dolingen as she felt a thousand pinpricks on her body, as if every inch of her skin were being pierced in the same moment.
Lady Dolingen looked intently at her with her bright red eyes, covering her chin with pale hand. Kara thought she looked like a young naturalist studying a caged Lamia.
Kara collapsed onto her belly, spluttering for breath as her wolf began to reshape her spine, first bulking it out to bear her weight and then growing fresh vertebra until a stub of a tail took form above her buttocks, turning gradually into a bushy new limb that tucked itself between her legs. Her feet lengthened with a loud crack, eight of her toes widening while the other two shrank to become dewclaws. Her hands grew, becoming thicker and heavier, her nails darkening to become long, curved talons and her palms toughening into paw pads.
Kara knew it was almost over. Slowly, she rose to her knees, careful not to look down at her half-formed body. It was more than enough to feel her muscles bulging and her fur prickling as it grew. Her nipples ached in agony as her body tried unsuccessfully to expel the piercings within. She closed her eyes and exhaled, feeling her ears yanked upwards, every ring embedded in the cartilage burning like silver. This was the quiet of the storm, her mother had once taught her. What came next would be the worst.
Her head exploded as if she’d been hit in the face with a war hammer. She snarled as her muzzle grew with loud cracks of bone and wet crunches of cartilage. Growing fangs filled her mouth with blood. Her tongue felt like it was begin torn out of her mouth by hot pincers. Every second felt like an hour, but she knew it was so close to being over. There was a final loud crack in her spine. Her vision disappeared for a moment and then returned, the night bright in her now-yellow eyes.
The pain was gone in an instant, like a campfire smothered under a blanket. She rose to her feet slowly, stretching up to her full height to stand head and shoulders taller than the vampire. A smirk stretched across her muzzle. She knew just to impress her audience. With a deep breath, Kara threw back her head and howled as loud as she could, looking up at the half moon. It didn’t matter who heard. The howl was for the vampire; to show that even if her transformation was ugly and painful, it didn’t crush her spirit. She was a werewolf. This was what she did. It came as naturally as breathing.
When she lowered her head, she saw that Lady Dolingen was staring at her. Her lips were parted to reveal fangs as her eyes wandered along Kara’s body like a long-traveling pilgrim viewing a holy relic.
“Beautiful,” she said. “Simply beautiful… may I… touch you?
Kara nodded. The vampire walked slowly towards her and reached out with trembling, jewelry-clad pale white hands. Kara thought that she didn’t look like a vampire baroness, but rather a child curious about a hot stove. She smiled with her fangs and lowered herself onto her haunches, doing her best to look unthreatening. Cold fingers ran through the fur on Kara’s back, gently squeezing muscles, and rubbing her arms. Kara purred like a contented dog, leaning into her touch, her tail swaying slowly. The vampire’s fingers combed through her fur, rubbing and caressing her wide neck, her broad shoulders, and finally, the soft ruff of fur along her chest, closer and closer to some of her most sensitive places until… a finger brushed the metal of a piercing.
Lady Dolingen gasped, pulling her hands back as if Kara had bitten her fingers.
“I’m sorry! she yelped. “I certainly didn’t mean that… that I’d want to, you know… violate your honor or… or… that I…”
Kara smirked. Gently, she took one of pale, cold hands into her enormous, clawed and padded paw and guided it back to the piercing, licking her lips. Lady Dolingen’s pale cheeks turned pink. Slowly, she panted for breath, her fingers squeezing the firm flesh of her nipple and the hard metal contained within.
“Oh…” she said. “That’s… how that is.”
She gave the piercing another squeeze, twisting it slowly. A gentle purr emanated from Kara’s throat. Lady Dolingen smiled, shifting on her feet.
“Do you know a place that might be… more private?” said Lady Dolingen. “I would shudder to think of one of your comrades finding us here, wrapped up with one another.”
Kara raised her brow. She understood that there was certainly a risk in going off to a secretive place with a vampire, but at the same time, she felt like she knew Lady Dolingen as well as a werewolf could ever truly know one. The noblewoman had shown her respect and patience – and now had shown her something else entirely. More than curiosity. More than even lust. She wanted her.
Gently, she took the vampire’s hand and lead her through the trees and deeper into the Evermore Forest.
***
Summer
The heat rolled through the dingy open window of Kara’s room at Waterhouse Inn, only the occasional nighttime breeze bringing relief. It was the nicest tavern in Karlsbad, a once-tiny backwater town now lousy with the shanties of war refugees. In Kara’s opinion, it was hardly a proper place for a noblewoman, not even a borderline noblewoman like her, but when she’d received Lady Dolingen’s encoded letter, she’d understood that the meeting place had been selected for other reasons. Karlsbad was less than a mile from the Great Northern Company’s encampment and was likely too unimportant for Lady Dolingen’s highborn family to bother nesting the town with spies.
They’d met in the alley two hours after nightfall and Kara, as she had the last four times, had led the way into their secretive place.
Kara’s clothes had been long since discarded – as had Lady Dolingen’s. The vampire showed no sign of discomfort aside from a slight pinkness on her cheeks and ears that stood out against her pale skin. That, Kara knew, had nothing to do with the weather. She worked carefully, unbraiding the thin, velvet rope from the vampire’s long hair. Lady Dolingen smiled, purring like a contented cat.
“Where did you learn that?” she asked, holding still as Kara untied her wrists. “I never imagined that rope could be used so… ornately.”
“A bordello out east called the ‘Soft Fire,’” said Kara, kissing the vampire’s neck and tossing the rope aside. “Same place I got my piercings.”
Lady Dolingen turned on the bed to face Kara, smirking with her fangs. “You worked at a bordello? That explains much about your character, darling.”
“I visited the bordello, silly.” She gently wrapped a hand around one of the vampire’s breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. “Very open-minded place. Werewolves are welcome and I’m sure they would allow a vampire too.”
“We should visit. See if they’ve learned anything new to share.”
“You’d love it there. Soft silks and no windows.” Kara chuckled. “Though I can’t help but wonder what your highblood family would think if you dropped everything you were doing and took a four hundred mile trip to a bordello.”
“They wouldn’t care,” said Lady Dolingen, gently clasping Kara’s hand. “I have the right bloodline, but the wrong birth order - and in a middling family no less. No one is particularly interested in what I do.”
“I am,” said Kara. “Very, very interested.”
She wrapped her arms around Lady Dolingen and laid slowly back on the lumpy straw bed, bringing her lover with her. It wasn’t a bed fit for a lady, but the prospect of sharing her bed with a vampire made it more wonderful than the finest feather mattress. Lady Dolingen kissed her on the cheek. They lay in silence for a time, Kara idly running her hands along her lover’s pale skin, until Lady Dolingen spoke.
“Darling?” she said. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Trying to catch me in a good mood?” said Kara. “This is as good as I get.”
“Precisely.” She kissed Kara’s cheek, her hands slowly tracing the lines of one of Kara’s tattoos. “I understand that this is a… challenging request to ask of you, but I would like, with your permission of course, to taste your blood.”
Kara’s body went rigid. She looked into Lady Dolingen’s red eyes. “You… You’ve never asked that before.”
“No, I have not. I… I certainly understand your reluctance. It must seem terrifying.”
“You’re damn right!” Kara snorted. “I didn’t think that you thought of me as cattle.
”No… no, I think of you only as my love, my beautiful warrior.” Lady Dolingen frowned. “The perspective my kind have on blood is… different. Every mortal has a ‘taste’ of sorts. But not a flavor, more of a… feeling. It gives us a sense of who they truly are inside. Since meeting you, I’ve been curious. I don’t intend to drain you, no. I don’t intend to weaken you in the least. I just want to taste you and truly understand you - to feel what it’s like to be so strong.”
Kara sighed, closing her eyes. This was an experience she’d never meant to have. She’d try anything at least once, from ropes to rotgut wine, but being fed upon by a vampire was a bridge too far. Or… at least in theory it should’ve been. The fact that she was the secret lover of a vampire was certainly something that she would’ve considered impossible mere months before. What further taboo could there possibly be?
“Please?” asked Lady Dolingen. “If you don’t enjoy it, I promise to never ask it of you again.”
“What do you mean by ‘enjoy?’”
Lady Dolingen smiled. “If the two of us are willing, it will feel quite thoroughly relaxing. As intimate as lovemaking, some say. There’s a reason that a bite is sometimes called a ‘vampire’s kiss.’”
Kara bit her lip. In her youth, she’d had a nightmare upon nightmare for weeks after her mother had explained that she, as a werewolf, was a vampire’s favorite species to enthrall. The regenerative powers of her body meant that she could feed dozens while still being strong enough to fight.
But Lady Dolingen hasn’t been in her nightmares. She was hardly an ordinary, dominating vampire. Kara knew and loved her. Certainly she could trust her even with this last great taboo.
“Okay…” Kara said, sighing. “Just don’t leave any scars or marks. I’ve got my vanity.”
“I promise,” said Lady Dolingen, kissing her neck. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. Just relax.”
Kara closed her eyes, her body going rigid as she awaited the agony of fangs tearing into her throat. Instead, she felt hands on her body, massaging her muscles, gently rubbing her skin, and softly caressing her breasts. Kisses followed each touch, ascending up her body to suckle on each nipple, before finally meeting her mouth. Kara moaned softly into Lady Dolingen’s lip as their tongues struggled against one another before Lady Dolingen withdrew.
The vampire kissed her neck. A moment later, Kara felt cold on her throat and then… numbness.
She kept her eyes closed. Her body seemed to be floating in darkness atop a sun-warmed lake, the water dulling noise and sensation. There was nothing but the slow beating of her heart, and the cool hands that continued to rub along her skin. Her body began to feel warmer and warmer with every passing moment. She moaned, her fists weakly clenching and her legs spreading on their own accord.
Light filled her vision. She opened her eyes to see Lady Dolingen’s face, her lips as crimson as harlot’s. Something about her seemed different, fuller of life than Kara had seen, pale, but more pink than white.
“Thank you, darling,” whispered Lady Dolingen.
Her senses returned slowly, but the pleasant numbness remained. She felt the warmth of the summer heat and the now-warm body beside her.
“H-how… was it…?” whispered Kara.
“As wonderful as you,” said Lady Dolingen. “Rich and strong, as wild as peasant brandy, but with a sweetness of a noblewoman’s lust. The best I’ve ever tasted.” She kissed Kara on the cheek. “And all the better because it was given freely – no, lovingly.”
Lady Dolingen dainty wiped her crimson-stained lips and then smiled. Kara smiled back.
“We’ve… we’ve got to try it again,” she whispered. “Now that I’m ready for it.”
Lady Dolingen smiled wider, baring her bloodstained fangs.
“As you command, darling,” she said. “Just a little more.”
She rose slowly to her knees and moved across the bed, straddling Kara. Cool hands found her piercings, gently pulling and twisting them. Kara moaned, closing her eyes and raising her chin to offer her throat.
“Good girl,” cooed Lady Dolingen. “Very good girl.”
Kara smiled and sank back into a realm of gentle comfort with her lover.
***
They’d met in the alley two hours after nightfall and Kara, as she had the last four times, had led the way into their secretive place.
Kara’s clothes had been long since discarded – as had Lady Dolingen’s. The vampire showed no sign of discomfort aside from a slight pinkness on her cheeks and ears that stood out against her pale skin. That, Kara knew, had nothing to do with the weather. She worked carefully, unbraiding the thin, velvet rope from the vampire’s long hair. Lady Dolingen smiled, purring like a contented cat.
“Where did you learn that?” she asked, holding still as Kara untied her wrists. “I never imagined that rope could be used so… ornately.”
“A bordello out east called the ‘Soft Fire,’” said Kara, kissing the vampire’s neck and tossing the rope aside. “Same place I got my piercings.”
Lady Dolingen turned on the bed to face Kara, smirking with her fangs. “You worked at a bordello? That explains much about your character, darling.”
“I visited the bordello, silly.” She gently wrapped a hand around one of the vampire’s breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. “Very open-minded place. Werewolves are welcome and I’m sure they would allow a vampire too.”
“We should visit. See if they’ve learned anything new to share.”
“You’d love it there. Soft silks and no windows.” Kara chuckled. “Though I can’t help but wonder what your highblood family would think if you dropped everything you were doing and took a four hundred mile trip to a bordello.”
“They wouldn’t care,” said Lady Dolingen, gently clasping Kara’s hand. “I have the right bloodline, but the wrong birth order - and in a middling family no less. No one is particularly interested in what I do.”
“I am,” said Kara. “Very, very interested.”
She wrapped her arms around Lady Dolingen and laid slowly back on the lumpy straw bed, bringing her lover with her. It wasn’t a bed fit for a lady, but the prospect of sharing her bed with a vampire made it more wonderful than the finest feather mattress. Lady Dolingen kissed her on the cheek. They lay in silence for a time, Kara idly running her hands along her lover’s pale skin, until Lady Dolingen spoke.
“Darling?” she said. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Trying to catch me in a good mood?” said Kara. “This is as good as I get.”
“Precisely.” She kissed Kara’s cheek, her hands slowly tracing the lines of one of Kara’s tattoos. “I understand that this is a… challenging request to ask of you, but I would like, with your permission of course, to taste your blood.”
Kara’s body went rigid. She looked into Lady Dolingen’s red eyes. “You… You’ve never asked that before.”
“No, I have not. I… I certainly understand your reluctance. It must seem terrifying.”
“You’re damn right!” Kara snorted. “I didn’t think that you thought of me as cattle.
”No… no, I think of you only as my love, my beautiful warrior.” Lady Dolingen frowned. “The perspective my kind have on blood is… different. Every mortal has a ‘taste’ of sorts. But not a flavor, more of a… feeling. It gives us a sense of who they truly are inside. Since meeting you, I’ve been curious. I don’t intend to drain you, no. I don’t intend to weaken you in the least. I just want to taste you and truly understand you - to feel what it’s like to be so strong.”
Kara sighed, closing her eyes. This was an experience she’d never meant to have. She’d try anything at least once, from ropes to rotgut wine, but being fed upon by a vampire was a bridge too far. Or… at least in theory it should’ve been. The fact that she was the secret lover of a vampire was certainly something that she would’ve considered impossible mere months before. What further taboo could there possibly be?
“Please?” asked Lady Dolingen. “If you don’t enjoy it, I promise to never ask it of you again.”
“What do you mean by ‘enjoy?’”
Lady Dolingen smiled. “If the two of us are willing, it will feel quite thoroughly relaxing. As intimate as lovemaking, some say. There’s a reason that a bite is sometimes called a ‘vampire’s kiss.’”
Kara bit her lip. In her youth, she’d had a nightmare upon nightmare for weeks after her mother had explained that she, as a werewolf, was a vampire’s favorite species to enthrall. The regenerative powers of her body meant that she could feed dozens while still being strong enough to fight.
But Lady Dolingen hasn’t been in her nightmares. She was hardly an ordinary, dominating vampire. Kara knew and loved her. Certainly she could trust her even with this last great taboo.
“Okay…” Kara said, sighing. “Just don’t leave any scars or marks. I’ve got my vanity.”
“I promise,” said Lady Dolingen, kissing her neck. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. Just relax.”
Kara closed her eyes, her body going rigid as she awaited the agony of fangs tearing into her throat. Instead, she felt hands on her body, massaging her muscles, gently rubbing her skin, and softly caressing her breasts. Kisses followed each touch, ascending up her body to suckle on each nipple, before finally meeting her mouth. Kara moaned softly into Lady Dolingen’s lip as their tongues struggled against one another before Lady Dolingen withdrew.
The vampire kissed her neck. A moment later, Kara felt cold on her throat and then… numbness.
She kept her eyes closed. Her body seemed to be floating in darkness atop a sun-warmed lake, the water dulling noise and sensation. There was nothing but the slow beating of her heart, and the cool hands that continued to rub along her skin. Her body began to feel warmer and warmer with every passing moment. She moaned, her fists weakly clenching and her legs spreading on their own accord.
Light filled her vision. She opened her eyes to see Lady Dolingen’s face, her lips as crimson as harlot’s. Something about her seemed different, fuller of life than Kara had seen, pale, but more pink than white.
“Thank you, darling,” whispered Lady Dolingen.
Her senses returned slowly, but the pleasant numbness remained. She felt the warmth of the summer heat and the now-warm body beside her.
“H-how… was it…?” whispered Kara.
“As wonderful as you,” said Lady Dolingen. “Rich and strong, as wild as peasant brandy, but with a sweetness of a noblewoman’s lust. The best I’ve ever tasted.” She kissed Kara on the cheek. “And all the better because it was given freely – no, lovingly.”
Lady Dolingen dainty wiped her crimson-stained lips and then smiled. Kara smiled back.
“We’ve… we’ve got to try it again,” she whispered. “Now that I’m ready for it.”
Lady Dolingen smiled wider, baring her bloodstained fangs.
“As you command, darling,” she said. “Just a little more.”
She rose slowly to her knees and moved across the bed, straddling Kara. Cool hands found her piercings, gently pulling and twisting them. Kara moaned, closing her eyes and raising her chin to offer her throat.
“Good girl,” cooed Lady Dolingen. “Very good girl.”
Kara smiled and sank back into a realm of gentle comfort with her lover.
***
Fall
Kara sat alone in the dingy lounge of the Pale Mare tavern, sipping on her eighth tankard of sweet mead, still clad in her armor and traveling clothes. Six golden coins, a gift from Lady Dolingen, had been enough to convince the tavernkeeper to close early and give her free reign. Outside, the sun had long since given way to the waxing gibbous moon, its light permeating the dirty windows to starkly illuminate the heavy wooden table in white brightness. Soon, she knew, her lover would arrive.
She’d stopped counting their liaisons after the tenth. There was no point to a number. She didn’t care to brag. Her fellow mercenaries would likely view her as either a liar or insane. The only thing that truly mattered was when the next liaison would be.
The door swung open with a creak of its rusty latches. Moonlight streamed into the tavern like floodwaters of bright light. Lady Dolingen stepped inside, her riding boots clanking on the wooden floors and her face half-hidden by a cowl. Her skin was as stark white as porcelain and her eyes were as red as fresh blood.
A smile stretched over Kara’s face. She stood up, taking the vampire’s cool, ring-clad hand into her own and kissing the large ruby ring.
“Good evening, my lady,” said Kara. “How can I be of service?”
Lady Dolingen took hold of Kara’s shoulders and pulled her into a lover’s kiss. Their tongues twisted together, fighting for dominance. Kara, as always, kept up the struggle for a time and then submitted, moaning softly into her lover’s lips. Lady Dolingen pulled back, her hands combing through Kara’s short hair and her red eyes looking into Kara’s own.
“And hello to you too, darling,” said Lady Donilgen with a smile. “No trouble getting away from your duties, I trust?”
Kara smirked. “Getting out of boring shit is what sergeants do best.”
They walked together up the stairs, stepping carefully over a drunkard passed out in the hallway, and into the room Kara had rented. It was typical of cheap taverns: creaky wooden floors, low ceilings, a straw bed, and a single sconce with a pair of stumpy candles. Kara’s trunk was at the foot of the bed, containing a vast array of vital supplies needed for their evening together.
“I’m going to guess that you’re taking charge again?” asked Kara, kissing Lady Dolingen on the cheek. “I think we’ve awakened that dominating spirit you vampires are known for.”
She opened the trunk, unbuckling her armor and placing it inside.
“No,” said Lady Dolingen, carefully slipping off her cloak. “I thought… perhaps it’s time you took a turn. Certainly, you must be getting bored of being passive.”
Kara barked out a laugh as she pulled of her tunic. She busied herself with rummaging through the trunk and selected a pair of shackles, putting them on the bed. “It’s never boring with you.”
Lady Dolingen sighed, idly crossing her arms. “I understand. It’s just… I don’t wish to take things too far.”
Kara paused, looking over her shoulder at the vampire. After all that they’d done, it seemed impossible to go “too far.” What dangerous new ground could there possibly be?
“Love? Is everything alright? If you need it, you’re more than welcome to my throat.”
A thin smile drew across Lady Dolingen’s pale face. “No, but thank you. Perhaps afterwards.”
Kara smiled, tossing aside her tunic and sliding out of her pants, but her lover remained clothed. Lady Dolingen smiled, her eyes studying Kara’s body as if seeing it for the first time. She sighed, rubbing her chin.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” said Lady Dolingen.
“We have,” said Kara. “And it’s been incredible every step of the way.”
“We have indeed.” The vampire’s smile faded. “Kara… I have to tell you something.”
Kara frowned. Lady Dolingen had many names for her. “Kara” was one that she hadn’t heard since the springtime.
“Yes, love?”
“It’s… been getting harder and harder to slip away. My Lord Father has been inquiring. It’s not uncommon for vampires to range from the family stronghold, but I haven’t been back home more than a scattering of nights since the summer. Sooner or later – if he hasn’t already – he will be sending spies, Kara. It’s only a matter of time until he knows about you and I.”
“I thought that they didn’t care?” Kara put her hands on her hips. “And even if they do, what are they going to do about it? Not like you’re married or taking an oath of chastity.”
Lady Dolingen rolled her eyes. “Vampires don’t elope with werewolves. We make thralls of them, conscript them into the Fang as slave-soldiers or breeders, or manipulate them into doing our bidding. We don’t love them, not like this. Your family would certainly take an equally dim view of our liaison, would they not?”
“Fuck ‘em,” barked Kara. “The last time I cared what my family thought of me, I was still playing with dolls.”
“I wish I could be as strong as you.” Lady Dolingen sighed, shaking her head. “Kara, I’m so sorry, but I think it’s time that you and I separated. As wonderful as our time as been, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
Kara’s stomach wretched. She’d known that there were risks when she’d eloped with a vampire, but she’d assumed that the threat would be the vampire herself. She hadn’t ever considered that a vampire, especially a ninth-born daughter, might still have to answer to her parents for her choice of mate like a noble girl who had become enamored with a drunken farmboy. Weren’t vampires supposed to be all-powerful monarchs of their domains who did what they pleased and took what they wanted?
“I’m so sorry,” said Lady Dolingen. “You deserve a future and a real mate, not the likes of me.”
Kara looked at the vampire. “Why? Because your family says so? Fuck all of them. Leave home. I did it when I was ten because I’d rather be a sergeant than a brood mare they call ‘lady.’”
Dolingen shook her head. “You don’t understand. If I elope with you, my kind will hunt us to the ends of the world. They won’t be alone. What about Paladins and hunters and other werewolves? How far do you think that we’ll be able to flee while avoiding sunlight? Darling, I’m sure you could survive. It’s what you do best. But not with me.”
Kara looked at the vampire. For a moment, she thought that she saw dampness on the vampire’s eyelids. She sighed, biting her lip as she weighed her options.
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” said Kara. “How about… how about I come with you? You can hire me as a guard. I’ve got the right reputation, don’t I? I killed that Demi Lich at Newfield. Not in single combat, but still. I was on the Forlorn Hope at the Stone Gardens. I’ve got a dozen-odd campaigns under my belt and fifteen years of hard service. That’s more than enough to stand guard at a castle.”
Lady Dolingen shook her head. “We wouldn’t hire you. As far as my family are concerned, you’re just a wild animal. The only way you’ll ever be allowed in a vampire’s castle is in a collar.”
Kara opened her mouth to object, but in that moment, she saw that the solution was in front of her. It was so obvious that she could scarcely believe that she hadn’t thought of it sooner.
“Then put a collar on me,” said Kara. “Bring me back as your thrall.”
Lady Dolingen’s red eyes widened.
Kara shrugged. “I’m being serious, love.”
It rankled her spirit to think of surrendering herself to one of her race’s ancient enemies, but she banished the thought. It could work. She knew how to live under strict discipline. She could bow and scrape, even if it was to gloating, obnoxious vampires instead of her senior officers. As for the collar… what more was it than just another uniform? Even the threat of death or torture if she tried to flee her mistress was little different from the fate awaiting deserters. The only real difference was that instead of soldiering on behalf of egomaniacal overlords for drinking money, she’d be standing at the side of Lady Dolingen, serving someone who, in her opinion, was more than worthy of her loyalty. A smile stretched across her face.
“Kara…” said Lady Dolingen. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this arrangement. Once locked into place, those collars are extremely difficult to remove without either deciptation or magic which even I barely understand. They give us power over the werewolves wearing them and I’ll have to take control of you. If even anyone suspects for a moment that you’re not entirely obedient, you’ll be whipped – with silver. Thralls aren’t soldiers, Kara. They’re enslaved lapdogs at best and livestock at worst.”
Kara stepped forward, taking one of the vampire’s cool hands into her own. “Then I’ll be your lapdog.”
Lady Dolingen frowned. “You don’t want this. I know you don’t, not at heart.”
“I do want this! I want you. I want… I want to be…”
She thought of a scalp of long blonde hair, perhaps still stuck on some Grey Scythe’s trophy rack. That fate would never be a danger for Lady Dolingen, not as long as she stayed in her family’s good graces. But for her… certainly it was possible for her to be killed in combat, but what did she care? If she was dead, what did it matter if her corpse was stripped of its valuables and thrown into a ditch? Who would be bothered if her pelt was peeled off and made into some warlord’s cloak? Certainly not her captain or any of the other mercenaries in the Great Northern Company. Her family would never know and wouldn’t care if they did. Even her other lovers would be little more than faintly disappointed, as if they had finished a bottle of wine and would need to get another. In truth, there was no one who cared whether she lived or died, no one except for Lady Dolingen.
If Kara died… would she know? The vampire was in occasional contact with her captain, though strictly for business. At best, the captain might pass along a report about casualties. She would be one of the tally marks listed under “Dead” so that the captain could demand a small fee for the cost of replacing her. Would Lady Dolingen assume her death if Kara stopped writing secretive letters or never turned up at one of their meeting places? Or would she presume that Kara had simply lost interest and abandoned her? But she’d feel something. She’d miss her. She’d mourn. And now, she was going to leave her forever. It was like she was already dead and forgotten.
Kara’s hands shook. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t go back to the way things were. I need you.”
She clutched Lady Dolingen’s hand tightly, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
“Oh, my beautiful warrior,” said Lady Dolingen. “I’d love to have you. You know I would. I suppose, if you’re willing... I could make arrangements.” She held tightly onto Kara’s hand. “I could keep you as my personal bodyguard. You’d stay by my side at all times. And, of course, when you weren’t protecting me, you’d serve as my…” Her cheeks flushed pink.
“Bedwarmer?” Kara said.
Lady Dolingen nodded, a smile crossing her pink face. “Yes. I suppose that’s the word. It won’t be easy, but I’d give you every luxury I could. It’s just…” She sighed. “This is a lot to think about, you must understand. I’ve never desired a werewolf thrall.”
“And before I met you, I never wanted to be one,” said Kara, pausing to wipe her eyes. “But for you, I’ll give up everything I have. I love you. More than anything in the world. More than I love my life. You’re the only thing I have that’s worth a damn. I love you… Mistress.”
The word had rolled off her tongue as easily as water. Kara was used to ranks and titles. “Lieutenant,” “Captain,” “sir,” “ma’am,” “my lord,” and dozens of others. But this time, it wasn’t the title of some obtuse authority figure. It was the title of her vampire, the only leader she’d ever met who was truly worthy of an honorific.
“And I love you,” said Lady Dolingen. “If this is what you want – what you truly, unquestionably want – I’d be honored to take you into my service. Because I love you too, pet.”
Their lips met. Kara didn’t want to think about what the future might hold as a thrall living in the castle of vampires. The only thing in the world that mattered to her was Lady Dolingen. Her cool hands caressed Kara’s bare tattooed skin. Her warm tongue touched hers, her mouth tasting sweet and vaguely coppery. Kara kept her hands on the vampire’s hips, allowing herself to receive her vampire’s attention. She was loved and all was right with the world.
***
She’d stopped counting their liaisons after the tenth. There was no point to a number. She didn’t care to brag. Her fellow mercenaries would likely view her as either a liar or insane. The only thing that truly mattered was when the next liaison would be.
The door swung open with a creak of its rusty latches. Moonlight streamed into the tavern like floodwaters of bright light. Lady Dolingen stepped inside, her riding boots clanking on the wooden floors and her face half-hidden by a cowl. Her skin was as stark white as porcelain and her eyes were as red as fresh blood.
A smile stretched over Kara’s face. She stood up, taking the vampire’s cool, ring-clad hand into her own and kissing the large ruby ring.
“Good evening, my lady,” said Kara. “How can I be of service?”
Lady Dolingen took hold of Kara’s shoulders and pulled her into a lover’s kiss. Their tongues twisted together, fighting for dominance. Kara, as always, kept up the struggle for a time and then submitted, moaning softly into her lover’s lips. Lady Dolingen pulled back, her hands combing through Kara’s short hair and her red eyes looking into Kara’s own.
“And hello to you too, darling,” said Lady Donilgen with a smile. “No trouble getting away from your duties, I trust?”
Kara smirked. “Getting out of boring shit is what sergeants do best.”
They walked together up the stairs, stepping carefully over a drunkard passed out in the hallway, and into the room Kara had rented. It was typical of cheap taverns: creaky wooden floors, low ceilings, a straw bed, and a single sconce with a pair of stumpy candles. Kara’s trunk was at the foot of the bed, containing a vast array of vital supplies needed for their evening together.
“I’m going to guess that you’re taking charge again?” asked Kara, kissing Lady Dolingen on the cheek. “I think we’ve awakened that dominating spirit you vampires are known for.”
She opened the trunk, unbuckling her armor and placing it inside.
“No,” said Lady Dolingen, carefully slipping off her cloak. “I thought… perhaps it’s time you took a turn. Certainly, you must be getting bored of being passive.”
Kara barked out a laugh as she pulled of her tunic. She busied herself with rummaging through the trunk and selected a pair of shackles, putting them on the bed. “It’s never boring with you.”
Lady Dolingen sighed, idly crossing her arms. “I understand. It’s just… I don’t wish to take things too far.”
Kara paused, looking over her shoulder at the vampire. After all that they’d done, it seemed impossible to go “too far.” What dangerous new ground could there possibly be?
“Love? Is everything alright? If you need it, you’re more than welcome to my throat.”
A thin smile drew across Lady Dolingen’s pale face. “No, but thank you. Perhaps afterwards.”
Kara smiled, tossing aside her tunic and sliding out of her pants, but her lover remained clothed. Lady Dolingen smiled, her eyes studying Kara’s body as if seeing it for the first time. She sighed, rubbing her chin.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” said Lady Dolingen.
“We have,” said Kara. “And it’s been incredible every step of the way.”
“We have indeed.” The vampire’s smile faded. “Kara… I have to tell you something.”
Kara frowned. Lady Dolingen had many names for her. “Kara” was one that she hadn’t heard since the springtime.
“Yes, love?”
“It’s… been getting harder and harder to slip away. My Lord Father has been inquiring. It’s not uncommon for vampires to range from the family stronghold, but I haven’t been back home more than a scattering of nights since the summer. Sooner or later – if he hasn’t already – he will be sending spies, Kara. It’s only a matter of time until he knows about you and I.”
“I thought that they didn’t care?” Kara put her hands on her hips. “And even if they do, what are they going to do about it? Not like you’re married or taking an oath of chastity.”
Lady Dolingen rolled her eyes. “Vampires don’t elope with werewolves. We make thralls of them, conscript them into the Fang as slave-soldiers or breeders, or manipulate them into doing our bidding. We don’t love them, not like this. Your family would certainly take an equally dim view of our liaison, would they not?”
“Fuck ‘em,” barked Kara. “The last time I cared what my family thought of me, I was still playing with dolls.”
“I wish I could be as strong as you.” Lady Dolingen sighed, shaking her head. “Kara, I’m so sorry, but I think it’s time that you and I separated. As wonderful as our time as been, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
Kara’s stomach wretched. She’d known that there were risks when she’d eloped with a vampire, but she’d assumed that the threat would be the vampire herself. She hadn’t ever considered that a vampire, especially a ninth-born daughter, might still have to answer to her parents for her choice of mate like a noble girl who had become enamored with a drunken farmboy. Weren’t vampires supposed to be all-powerful monarchs of their domains who did what they pleased and took what they wanted?
“I’m so sorry,” said Lady Dolingen. “You deserve a future and a real mate, not the likes of me.”
Kara looked at the vampire. “Why? Because your family says so? Fuck all of them. Leave home. I did it when I was ten because I’d rather be a sergeant than a brood mare they call ‘lady.’”
Dolingen shook her head. “You don’t understand. If I elope with you, my kind will hunt us to the ends of the world. They won’t be alone. What about Paladins and hunters and other werewolves? How far do you think that we’ll be able to flee while avoiding sunlight? Darling, I’m sure you could survive. It’s what you do best. But not with me.”
Kara looked at the vampire. For a moment, she thought that she saw dampness on the vampire’s eyelids. She sighed, biting her lip as she weighed her options.
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” said Kara. “How about… how about I come with you? You can hire me as a guard. I’ve got the right reputation, don’t I? I killed that Demi Lich at Newfield. Not in single combat, but still. I was on the Forlorn Hope at the Stone Gardens. I’ve got a dozen-odd campaigns under my belt and fifteen years of hard service. That’s more than enough to stand guard at a castle.”
Lady Dolingen shook her head. “We wouldn’t hire you. As far as my family are concerned, you’re just a wild animal. The only way you’ll ever be allowed in a vampire’s castle is in a collar.”
Kara opened her mouth to object, but in that moment, she saw that the solution was in front of her. It was so obvious that she could scarcely believe that she hadn’t thought of it sooner.
“Then put a collar on me,” said Kara. “Bring me back as your thrall.”
Lady Dolingen’s red eyes widened.
Kara shrugged. “I’m being serious, love.”
It rankled her spirit to think of surrendering herself to one of her race’s ancient enemies, but she banished the thought. It could work. She knew how to live under strict discipline. She could bow and scrape, even if it was to gloating, obnoxious vampires instead of her senior officers. As for the collar… what more was it than just another uniform? Even the threat of death or torture if she tried to flee her mistress was little different from the fate awaiting deserters. The only real difference was that instead of soldiering on behalf of egomaniacal overlords for drinking money, she’d be standing at the side of Lady Dolingen, serving someone who, in her opinion, was more than worthy of her loyalty. A smile stretched across her face.
“Kara…” said Lady Dolingen. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this arrangement. Once locked into place, those collars are extremely difficult to remove without either deciptation or magic which even I barely understand. They give us power over the werewolves wearing them and I’ll have to take control of you. If even anyone suspects for a moment that you’re not entirely obedient, you’ll be whipped – with silver. Thralls aren’t soldiers, Kara. They’re enslaved lapdogs at best and livestock at worst.”
Kara stepped forward, taking one of the vampire’s cool hands into her own. “Then I’ll be your lapdog.”
Lady Dolingen frowned. “You don’t want this. I know you don’t, not at heart.”
“I do want this! I want you. I want… I want to be…”
She thought of a scalp of long blonde hair, perhaps still stuck on some Grey Scythe’s trophy rack. That fate would never be a danger for Lady Dolingen, not as long as she stayed in her family’s good graces. But for her… certainly it was possible for her to be killed in combat, but what did she care? If she was dead, what did it matter if her corpse was stripped of its valuables and thrown into a ditch? Who would be bothered if her pelt was peeled off and made into some warlord’s cloak? Certainly not her captain or any of the other mercenaries in the Great Northern Company. Her family would never know and wouldn’t care if they did. Even her other lovers would be little more than faintly disappointed, as if they had finished a bottle of wine and would need to get another. In truth, there was no one who cared whether she lived or died, no one except for Lady Dolingen.
If Kara died… would she know? The vampire was in occasional contact with her captain, though strictly for business. At best, the captain might pass along a report about casualties. She would be one of the tally marks listed under “Dead” so that the captain could demand a small fee for the cost of replacing her. Would Lady Dolingen assume her death if Kara stopped writing secretive letters or never turned up at one of their meeting places? Or would she presume that Kara had simply lost interest and abandoned her? But she’d feel something. She’d miss her. She’d mourn. And now, she was going to leave her forever. It was like she was already dead and forgotten.
Kara’s hands shook. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t go back to the way things were. I need you.”
She clutched Lady Dolingen’s hand tightly, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
“Oh, my beautiful warrior,” said Lady Dolingen. “I’d love to have you. You know I would. I suppose, if you’re willing... I could make arrangements.” She held tightly onto Kara’s hand. “I could keep you as my personal bodyguard. You’d stay by my side at all times. And, of course, when you weren’t protecting me, you’d serve as my…” Her cheeks flushed pink.
“Bedwarmer?” Kara said.
Lady Dolingen nodded, a smile crossing her pink face. “Yes. I suppose that’s the word. It won’t be easy, but I’d give you every luxury I could. It’s just…” She sighed. “This is a lot to think about, you must understand. I’ve never desired a werewolf thrall.”
“And before I met you, I never wanted to be one,” said Kara, pausing to wipe her eyes. “But for you, I’ll give up everything I have. I love you. More than anything in the world. More than I love my life. You’re the only thing I have that’s worth a damn. I love you… Mistress.”
The word had rolled off her tongue as easily as water. Kara was used to ranks and titles. “Lieutenant,” “Captain,” “sir,” “ma’am,” “my lord,” and dozens of others. But this time, it wasn’t the title of some obtuse authority figure. It was the title of her vampire, the only leader she’d ever met who was truly worthy of an honorific.
“And I love you,” said Lady Dolingen. “If this is what you want – what you truly, unquestionably want – I’d be honored to take you into my service. Because I love you too, pet.”
Their lips met. Kara didn’t want to think about what the future might hold as a thrall living in the castle of vampires. The only thing in the world that mattered to her was Lady Dolingen. Her cool hands caressed Kara’s bare tattooed skin. Her warm tongue touched hers, her mouth tasting sweet and vaguely coppery. Kara kept her hands on the vampire’s hips, allowing herself to receive her vampire’s attention. She was loved and all was right with the world.
***
Winter
The Great Northern Company had set up its camp and at the first sign of darkness, Kara had taken her leave – and had told no one in her chain of command. It was desertion, plain and simple. Sooner or later, her commanders would notice and go hunting. The snow fell heavily, covering her tracks, but her fellow werewolves would track her by scent. It would just be a matter of time, but all she needed to do was to find Lady Dolingen at the meeting place and have the collar placed around her neck. Once that happened, she was free. Even a pack of werewolf mercenaries knew better than to demand the personal property of a vampire from a powerful family.
The irony wasn’t lost on her that she found herself coming back to the promontory, this time terrified of not being enthralled by a vampire.
She pushed through the last line of evergreens and out onto the rocky gray promontory, now covered by a layer of thin white snow that sparkled under the light of a half moon. It was the place where she’d met her love, seemingly a lifetime ago, and she wondered if the shards of the old wine bottle were still at the bottom of the canyon. On the ledge, she saw Lady Dolingen, wearing a white fur coat over her black dress and skirt along with heavy winter boots and leather gloves. She turned to look at Kara, a faint smile on her pale face.
“I was worried that you wouldn’t come,” said Lady Dolingen. “Not that I’d blame you in the least, of course.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, love,” said Kara.
“Neither would I.”
Lady Dolingen extended her right hand. Kara kissed the large ruby ring, but her eyes wandered to the large, round, shining object in Lady Dolingen’s left hand. Kara knew in a heartbeat what it was. Her stomach felt like it was floating, the familiar dread she often felt when staring down pike formations and awaiting the order to charge. It was one thing to speak about collars and servitude. It was another to know that this one was her collar. It would be an open display that she was the property of a vampire and would stay locked around her neck until the day she died – if it came off at all. She’d heard tales of tombs where vampires’ bones lay, surrounded by the skeletons of werewolves, steel collars still locked in place. A worthy thrall would continue serving their masters and mistresses in the afterlife.
She shivered, but reminded herself that marriage vows often spoke of spending eternity together. Perhaps this wasn’t altogether different.
“Undress, pet,” said Lady Dolingen. “You won’t be needing those clothes anymore.”
The command was a welcome distraction. She smirked. “Gladly, Mistress.”
Slowly, she unbuckled her armor, letting it fall onto the snowy ground. Her hands moved along her chest, pulling off her tunic as her body swayed as if to unheard music. Lady Dolingen smiled, idly rubbing a gloved finger along the steel collar.
Kara forced herself to keep smiling as she undressed, but her mind was another matter, dissecting Lady Dolingen’s every word and gesture like a physician studying a diseased corpse. Why had she been ordered to undress? She supposed that Lady Dolingen intended to acquire her newer, finer clothes and the best armor that money could buy. After all, she wasn’t a conscript of the Fang. She was the treasured pet and protector of a highblood vampire. Perhaps Lady Dolingen knew that she was nervous and, knowing how much Kara enjoyed flaunting her body, was giving her a sensual command to distract her. But what if she wouldn’t be needing any clothes anymore? In fact, Lady Dolingen could decide that she wasn’t going to ever wear clothes again.
The realization brought warmth on her cheeks – and an icy dagger of fear in her stomach. The thought of nudity didn’t faze her any more than the snow that touched her skin. In fact, she would’ve positively loved the idea if Lady Dolingen had suggested it. What frightened her was the realization that her opinion was irrelevant. Lady Dolingen wouldn’t owe her an explanation for any order she gave and she wouldn’t be in any position to question it.
Kara finished undressing, keeping the smile on her face. Her hands moved to the bar piercings in her nipples and began to unscrew them.
“Not those, pet,” said Lady Dolingen. “You’ll keep them – at least until I can find some golden rings to replace them. Perhaps a few rings made of silver alloy, for the times when I want to see you squirm.”
Kara smiled, even as another harsh truth came to light. She wouldn’t just be a piece of art on display. No, Lady Dolingen could alter her tattoos and add or remove piercings to her heart’s content, modifying her like a floral arrangement to suit the mood. She loved the idea, being given all the jewelry and body art she’d never be able to otherwise afford. But... what if things went too far? What if she was made into a freak to be mocked rather than an exotic beauty to be admired?
Kara huffed out a breath. The world looked blurry, as if she was caught in a fever dream. Her fear seemed ludicrous. How could she possibly distrust her lover? Why now, when they were so close to being together?
“Pet?” said Lady Dolingen. “Is everything well?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
The vampire frowned, looking down at the collar. “Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind. I won’t think any less of you.”
Kara closed her eyes. It was too late. If she went back to the Great Northern Company, it would be the silver whip if she was lucky and her head being added to the Company trophy rack if she wasn’t. And even if her captain did have mercy, she’d lose Lady Dolingen forever.
“Yeah… yes, Mistress,” she said. “I’m sure. Just a little nervous. I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”
Kara dropped to her knees and raised her chin, looking up at the gray sky. Sweat gathered on her forehead. Lady Dolingen approached slowly, the shining steel collar in her gloved hands, snow crunching under her feet.
“Last chance,” she said. “Speak now if you have any objections.”
Kara sighed, shaking her head. “I’m ready.”
She closed her eyes. Soft leather wrapped around her neck, its rich, supple texture softening the unforgiving steel. It surprised her, as terrified as she was Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking up at Lady Dolingen’s pale, smiling face as she pulled the collar into place. There was a flash of red light and a hiss like an angry snake. The collar squeezed around her neck, as if testing the limits of her throat, tightening until she choked – and then quickly fell loose, allowing her to breathe.
Had it been magic adjusting the collar, tightening and then loosening like newly fitted boots? Or had it been a warning? A demonstration that the collar, comfortable as it was, could easily crush her throat. She looked up at the vampire with wide eyes and received a fanged smiled.
“Come to me, pet,” said Lady Dolingen. “Come to your mistress.”
The vampire raised her right hand and Kara noted that she was wearing a new steel ring on the center finger. She felt the collar begin to pull, as if drawn to the ring by a magnet. Her breath came in short gasps and her stomach lurched. She touched the heavy steel with shaking hands. There wasn’t a clasp or lock. For the rest of her life, she’d belong to Lady Dolingen. Her pet. Her slave. Her thrall to be used as her mistress pleased. The prospect had seemed exciting in fantasies, but now that she had to face the reality, she understood the deadly seriousness. The collar would guarantee her loyalty, regardless of what she wanted. Nothing guaranteed that Lady Dolingen would treat her gently. What if she didn’t? What if every word and every act Lady Dolingen had ever provided was but a ruse to ensnare her and now that the collar had been fitted, she would face nothing but cruelty?
Vampires were manipulative, dangerous, and above all patient. What did it matter if it had taken nearly a year to enthrall her? Vampires were immortal. A year of her time meant nothing compared to the eternity of service Kara would provide.
Kara realized that she’d been stupid, gullible, and above all, naïve in a way unbecoming of a veteran sergeant. If the Great Northern Company saw her, there would be no pity. Her fate was ironic like a cautionary tale told to children. A werewolf who’d feared dying alone was punished by a lifetime of slavery on a short leash. She whimpered, shivering like a defeated pup and pushing back against her collar. Sooner or later, she knew that her Mistress would lose patience. Her façade would fall away and the collar would squeeze.
“Kara?” said Lady Dolingen. “Did you hear me?”
She shivered. “Ya-yes, Mistress.”
The pull on the collar stopped suddenly. Lady Dolingen rushed to her side, falling to her knees in the snow. Strong arms clad in furs wrapped around Kara’s bare shoulders. Warm lips kissed her cheek.
“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” said Lady Dolingen. “You’re my warrior, my beautiful, strong, fearless werewolf. My mate.” Gloved fingers caressed Kara’s back. “I can’t even imagine how terrifying this must be, but that’s why you’re so wonderful. No one else in all the world would ever make a sacrifice this big for me. No one else would every trust me with their freedom. Not any of my servants or mercenaries. Not my family. Only you. I’m going to prove that I’m worthy of that trust, even if it takes centuries. Even if it costs me everything I have. I love you.”
Kara wrapped her arms around the vampire, pulling her close. She sighed, inhaling the rose perfume in Lady Dolingen’s hair. It was almost as shocking as the moment the collar had sealed to see how quickly facades could be cast aside, to hear wonderful words meant only for her ears. Her mate’s words.
She’d been wrong about Lady Dolingen. She’d lost her trust in the moment when it mattered the most.
“I’m sorry,” she said, kissing the vampire’s cheek.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, darling,” said Lady Dolingen.
They knelt together for a time. Kara listened to the vampire’s slow, steady breathing. She wanted to wait until Lady Dolingen gave her an order, but she sensed that it was her moment to break; that Lady Dolingen would hold her for however long she needed. There would be practical concerns, no doubt: her collar would need to be tested, she would need to practice her etiquette, and certainly, there would be a long, long conversation about the rules which would govern her life in the castle. They could wait a little longer. She wanted to enjoy the moment; to hold it as close as she held her mate. Slowly, she exhaled, feeling like she was about to lead a scout patrol into a monster-infected swamp.
“I’m ready, Mistress,” she said, kissing her mate on the cheek. “You want to try again?
Lady Dolingen smiled. “Certainly. Just relax, pet. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Kara nodded.
Slowly, the vampire got to her feet, taking several steps back. She smiled gently, her eyes wandering over Kara’s body.
“I want to show you something very special about that collar,” said Lady Dolingen, raising her palm. “Change for me, pet.”
Kara knelt on the rocks, smiling at the vampire, but before she could let her wolf come unto her, the change had already begun. It started within her heart… but she didn’t feel the familiar burning. Her ribs, hips, and shoulders broke and healed within seconds, but despite the sickening noise of cracking bones, it felt like firm yet pleasant massage. Her skin tingled and she felt her muscles flex as they expanded. She looked at Lady Dolingen, her eyes wide, holding back a scream. Something was wrong with her.
Lady Dolingen smiled, her eyes wandering along Kara’s body like a lord admiring his new bride on their wedding day.
“I promised to give you every comfort I could,” she said. “That collar is ancient magic, made for bodyguards we keep close but it’s more than a leash. I can control your changes and take away your pain. It’s not because I want you to you to be the best bodyguard you can be. It’s because I couldn’t live with myself knowing that my orders made you suffer.” She smirked. “Of course, I made a small… upgrade. It’s only fair that my beautiful pet werewolf is properly rewarded for her loyalty.”
The collar around Kara’s neck began to grown warm. It spread through her changing body as if she was sinking into a bath. She lowered herself onto her back, breathing slowly as her spine began to reshape and the warmth spread to her loins. Her tail grew from a stub to a long, bushy limb that swept back and forth as she moaned. She spread her lengthening legs, her clawed toes digging into the rock. Her thick, padded hands moved to her chest to squeeze her breasts. The slightest touch of her piercings sent a wave of pure, shivering pleasure through her body.
One of her taloned fingers moved to the collar to feel the warm metal under her pawpads. In the back of her mind, she knew that the collar was taming her, quashing any sparks of resistance in a sea of pleasure. It could turn even the agony of transformation into pure ecstasy. She knew that she should’ve resisted; that she was a werewolf and veteran sergeant who owed it to herself not to be cowed so easily, but her doubts were just more dead weight to be shed it as easily as her armor. She wanted to love and be loved, to be freed from all the pain she’d seen in her decades of war. To surrender. She sighed, closing her eyes. A moan escaped her half-grown muzzle as she felt her ears being gently pulled to the top of her head.
Lady Dolingen chuckled. “Enjoying yourself, pet? I’m certainly enjoying myself watching you.”
Kara nodded. She knew it was almost over, disappointing as that fact was. There was a final loud crack in her spine. Kara purred softly, feeling as if a lifetime of stress was being released by a masseuse. She opened her yellow eyes. Darkness turned into brightness. Her collar was no longer warm, but the pleasure lingered in her body and she felt like foam atop water. Kara rose to her feet slowly, stretching up to her full height, head and shoulders taller than the vampire. A smirk stretched across her muzzle.
“Sing for your Mistress,” said Lady Doligen, raising her right hand. “Howl.”
With a deep breath, Kara threw back her head and howled as loud as she could, looking up at the half moon. The collar grew warm around her neck and her song became a deep, yowling moan. The howl was for the vampire, but she wanted the world to hear. She was a werewolf, enthralled for all eternity to a vampire, and deeply, deeply in love.
“Beautiful. Simply beautiful,” said Lady Dolingen. Kara lowered her head to meet her eyes, a smile spreading on her muzzle. “Come to me, pet.”
Lady Dolingen raised a pale hand. The collar gently pulled. Kara followed it, walking slowly forward until Lady Dolingen beckoned for her to kneel, the collar giving a gentle tug downwards. She smiled with her fangs and lowered herself onto her haunches. Her tail swayed slowly behind her.
Cold fingers ran through the fur on Kara’s back, gently squeezing muscles, and rubbing her arms. Kara purred like a contented dog, leaning into her touch. The vampire’s fingers combed through her fur, rubbing and caressing her wide neck, her broad shoulders, and finally, the soft ruff of fur along her chest, closer and closer to some of her most sensitive places. Kara smirked. Her Mistress smirked back. Cold fingers squeezed the firm flesh of her nipples and the hard metal contained within. A gentle purr emanated from Kara’s throat. Lady Dolingen smiled, standing tall before the enthralled werewolf kneeling at her feet.
“Let’s go home, pet,” she said. “I would shudder to think of one of your comrades finding us here, wrapped up with one another. They might get jealous.”
Kara smiled, waiting for the pull of the collar. It never came. Gently, a pale, cold hand took her enormous, clawed and padded paw. And then she saw a ring worn next to the large ruby on her finger up close, on the same hand that had been used to command her. It was the exact same color and shape of her collar, only in miniature. In a way, she supposed, it was a more than a device to control her: it was a link between them, matching jewelry to be worn for life like a wedding ring, honoring an eternal vow.
Gently, she took the vampire’s hand and was led through the trees and deeper into the Evermore Forest.
The irony wasn’t lost on her that she found herself coming back to the promontory, this time terrified of not being enthralled by a vampire.
She pushed through the last line of evergreens and out onto the rocky gray promontory, now covered by a layer of thin white snow that sparkled under the light of a half moon. It was the place where she’d met her love, seemingly a lifetime ago, and she wondered if the shards of the old wine bottle were still at the bottom of the canyon. On the ledge, she saw Lady Dolingen, wearing a white fur coat over her black dress and skirt along with heavy winter boots and leather gloves. She turned to look at Kara, a faint smile on her pale face.
“I was worried that you wouldn’t come,” said Lady Dolingen. “Not that I’d blame you in the least, of course.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, love,” said Kara.
“Neither would I.”
Lady Dolingen extended her right hand. Kara kissed the large ruby ring, but her eyes wandered to the large, round, shining object in Lady Dolingen’s left hand. Kara knew in a heartbeat what it was. Her stomach felt like it was floating, the familiar dread she often felt when staring down pike formations and awaiting the order to charge. It was one thing to speak about collars and servitude. It was another to know that this one was her collar. It would be an open display that she was the property of a vampire and would stay locked around her neck until the day she died – if it came off at all. She’d heard tales of tombs where vampires’ bones lay, surrounded by the skeletons of werewolves, steel collars still locked in place. A worthy thrall would continue serving their masters and mistresses in the afterlife.
She shivered, but reminded herself that marriage vows often spoke of spending eternity together. Perhaps this wasn’t altogether different.
“Undress, pet,” said Lady Dolingen. “You won’t be needing those clothes anymore.”
The command was a welcome distraction. She smirked. “Gladly, Mistress.”
Slowly, she unbuckled her armor, letting it fall onto the snowy ground. Her hands moved along her chest, pulling off her tunic as her body swayed as if to unheard music. Lady Dolingen smiled, idly rubbing a gloved finger along the steel collar.
Kara forced herself to keep smiling as she undressed, but her mind was another matter, dissecting Lady Dolingen’s every word and gesture like a physician studying a diseased corpse. Why had she been ordered to undress? She supposed that Lady Dolingen intended to acquire her newer, finer clothes and the best armor that money could buy. After all, she wasn’t a conscript of the Fang. She was the treasured pet and protector of a highblood vampire. Perhaps Lady Dolingen knew that she was nervous and, knowing how much Kara enjoyed flaunting her body, was giving her a sensual command to distract her. But what if she wouldn’t be needing any clothes anymore? In fact, Lady Dolingen could decide that she wasn’t going to ever wear clothes again.
The realization brought warmth on her cheeks – and an icy dagger of fear in her stomach. The thought of nudity didn’t faze her any more than the snow that touched her skin. In fact, she would’ve positively loved the idea if Lady Dolingen had suggested it. What frightened her was the realization that her opinion was irrelevant. Lady Dolingen wouldn’t owe her an explanation for any order she gave and she wouldn’t be in any position to question it.
Kara finished undressing, keeping the smile on her face. Her hands moved to the bar piercings in her nipples and began to unscrew them.
“Not those, pet,” said Lady Dolingen. “You’ll keep them – at least until I can find some golden rings to replace them. Perhaps a few rings made of silver alloy, for the times when I want to see you squirm.”
Kara smiled, even as another harsh truth came to light. She wouldn’t just be a piece of art on display. No, Lady Dolingen could alter her tattoos and add or remove piercings to her heart’s content, modifying her like a floral arrangement to suit the mood. She loved the idea, being given all the jewelry and body art she’d never be able to otherwise afford. But... what if things went too far? What if she was made into a freak to be mocked rather than an exotic beauty to be admired?
Kara huffed out a breath. The world looked blurry, as if she was caught in a fever dream. Her fear seemed ludicrous. How could she possibly distrust her lover? Why now, when they were so close to being together?
“Pet?” said Lady Dolingen. “Is everything well?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
The vampire frowned, looking down at the collar. “Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind. I won’t think any less of you.”
Kara closed her eyes. It was too late. If she went back to the Great Northern Company, it would be the silver whip if she was lucky and her head being added to the Company trophy rack if she wasn’t. And even if her captain did have mercy, she’d lose Lady Dolingen forever.
“Yeah… yes, Mistress,” she said. “I’m sure. Just a little nervous. I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”
Kara dropped to her knees and raised her chin, looking up at the gray sky. Sweat gathered on her forehead. Lady Dolingen approached slowly, the shining steel collar in her gloved hands, snow crunching under her feet.
“Last chance,” she said. “Speak now if you have any objections.”
Kara sighed, shaking her head. “I’m ready.”
She closed her eyes. Soft leather wrapped around her neck, its rich, supple texture softening the unforgiving steel. It surprised her, as terrified as she was Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking up at Lady Dolingen’s pale, smiling face as she pulled the collar into place. There was a flash of red light and a hiss like an angry snake. The collar squeezed around her neck, as if testing the limits of her throat, tightening until she choked – and then quickly fell loose, allowing her to breathe.
Had it been magic adjusting the collar, tightening and then loosening like newly fitted boots? Or had it been a warning? A demonstration that the collar, comfortable as it was, could easily crush her throat. She looked up at the vampire with wide eyes and received a fanged smiled.
“Come to me, pet,” said Lady Dolingen. “Come to your mistress.”
The vampire raised her right hand and Kara noted that she was wearing a new steel ring on the center finger. She felt the collar begin to pull, as if drawn to the ring by a magnet. Her breath came in short gasps and her stomach lurched. She touched the heavy steel with shaking hands. There wasn’t a clasp or lock. For the rest of her life, she’d belong to Lady Dolingen. Her pet. Her slave. Her thrall to be used as her mistress pleased. The prospect had seemed exciting in fantasies, but now that she had to face the reality, she understood the deadly seriousness. The collar would guarantee her loyalty, regardless of what she wanted. Nothing guaranteed that Lady Dolingen would treat her gently. What if she didn’t? What if every word and every act Lady Dolingen had ever provided was but a ruse to ensnare her and now that the collar had been fitted, she would face nothing but cruelty?
Vampires were manipulative, dangerous, and above all patient. What did it matter if it had taken nearly a year to enthrall her? Vampires were immortal. A year of her time meant nothing compared to the eternity of service Kara would provide.
Kara realized that she’d been stupid, gullible, and above all, naïve in a way unbecoming of a veteran sergeant. If the Great Northern Company saw her, there would be no pity. Her fate was ironic like a cautionary tale told to children. A werewolf who’d feared dying alone was punished by a lifetime of slavery on a short leash. She whimpered, shivering like a defeated pup and pushing back against her collar. Sooner or later, she knew that her Mistress would lose patience. Her façade would fall away and the collar would squeeze.
“Kara?” said Lady Dolingen. “Did you hear me?”
She shivered. “Ya-yes, Mistress.”
The pull on the collar stopped suddenly. Lady Dolingen rushed to her side, falling to her knees in the snow. Strong arms clad in furs wrapped around Kara’s bare shoulders. Warm lips kissed her cheek.
“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” said Lady Dolingen. “You’re my warrior, my beautiful, strong, fearless werewolf. My mate.” Gloved fingers caressed Kara’s back. “I can’t even imagine how terrifying this must be, but that’s why you’re so wonderful. No one else in all the world would ever make a sacrifice this big for me. No one else would every trust me with their freedom. Not any of my servants or mercenaries. Not my family. Only you. I’m going to prove that I’m worthy of that trust, even if it takes centuries. Even if it costs me everything I have. I love you.”
Kara wrapped her arms around the vampire, pulling her close. She sighed, inhaling the rose perfume in Lady Dolingen’s hair. It was almost as shocking as the moment the collar had sealed to see how quickly facades could be cast aside, to hear wonderful words meant only for her ears. Her mate’s words.
She’d been wrong about Lady Dolingen. She’d lost her trust in the moment when it mattered the most.
“I’m sorry,” she said, kissing the vampire’s cheek.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, darling,” said Lady Dolingen.
They knelt together for a time. Kara listened to the vampire’s slow, steady breathing. She wanted to wait until Lady Dolingen gave her an order, but she sensed that it was her moment to break; that Lady Dolingen would hold her for however long she needed. There would be practical concerns, no doubt: her collar would need to be tested, she would need to practice her etiquette, and certainly, there would be a long, long conversation about the rules which would govern her life in the castle. They could wait a little longer. She wanted to enjoy the moment; to hold it as close as she held her mate. Slowly, she exhaled, feeling like she was about to lead a scout patrol into a monster-infected swamp.
“I’m ready, Mistress,” she said, kissing her mate on the cheek. “You want to try again?
Lady Dolingen smiled. “Certainly. Just relax, pet. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Kara nodded.
Slowly, the vampire got to her feet, taking several steps back. She smiled gently, her eyes wandering over Kara’s body.
“I want to show you something very special about that collar,” said Lady Dolingen, raising her palm. “Change for me, pet.”
Kara knelt on the rocks, smiling at the vampire, but before she could let her wolf come unto her, the change had already begun. It started within her heart… but she didn’t feel the familiar burning. Her ribs, hips, and shoulders broke and healed within seconds, but despite the sickening noise of cracking bones, it felt like firm yet pleasant massage. Her skin tingled and she felt her muscles flex as they expanded. She looked at Lady Dolingen, her eyes wide, holding back a scream. Something was wrong with her.
Lady Dolingen smiled, her eyes wandering along Kara’s body like a lord admiring his new bride on their wedding day.
“I promised to give you every comfort I could,” she said. “That collar is ancient magic, made for bodyguards we keep close but it’s more than a leash. I can control your changes and take away your pain. It’s not because I want you to you to be the best bodyguard you can be. It’s because I couldn’t live with myself knowing that my orders made you suffer.” She smirked. “Of course, I made a small… upgrade. It’s only fair that my beautiful pet werewolf is properly rewarded for her loyalty.”
The collar around Kara’s neck began to grown warm. It spread through her changing body as if she was sinking into a bath. She lowered herself onto her back, breathing slowly as her spine began to reshape and the warmth spread to her loins. Her tail grew from a stub to a long, bushy limb that swept back and forth as she moaned. She spread her lengthening legs, her clawed toes digging into the rock. Her thick, padded hands moved to her chest to squeeze her breasts. The slightest touch of her piercings sent a wave of pure, shivering pleasure through her body.
One of her taloned fingers moved to the collar to feel the warm metal under her pawpads. In the back of her mind, she knew that the collar was taming her, quashing any sparks of resistance in a sea of pleasure. It could turn even the agony of transformation into pure ecstasy. She knew that she should’ve resisted; that she was a werewolf and veteran sergeant who owed it to herself not to be cowed so easily, but her doubts were just more dead weight to be shed it as easily as her armor. She wanted to love and be loved, to be freed from all the pain she’d seen in her decades of war. To surrender. She sighed, closing her eyes. A moan escaped her half-grown muzzle as she felt her ears being gently pulled to the top of her head.
Lady Dolingen chuckled. “Enjoying yourself, pet? I’m certainly enjoying myself watching you.”
Kara nodded. She knew it was almost over, disappointing as that fact was. There was a final loud crack in her spine. Kara purred softly, feeling as if a lifetime of stress was being released by a masseuse. She opened her yellow eyes. Darkness turned into brightness. Her collar was no longer warm, but the pleasure lingered in her body and she felt like foam atop water. Kara rose to her feet slowly, stretching up to her full height, head and shoulders taller than the vampire. A smirk stretched across her muzzle.
“Sing for your Mistress,” said Lady Doligen, raising her right hand. “Howl.”
With a deep breath, Kara threw back her head and howled as loud as she could, looking up at the half moon. The collar grew warm around her neck and her song became a deep, yowling moan. The howl was for the vampire, but she wanted the world to hear. She was a werewolf, enthralled for all eternity to a vampire, and deeply, deeply in love.
“Beautiful. Simply beautiful,” said Lady Dolingen. Kara lowered her head to meet her eyes, a smile spreading on her muzzle. “Come to me, pet.”
Lady Dolingen raised a pale hand. The collar gently pulled. Kara followed it, walking slowly forward until Lady Dolingen beckoned for her to kneel, the collar giving a gentle tug downwards. She smiled with her fangs and lowered herself onto her haunches. Her tail swayed slowly behind her.
Cold fingers ran through the fur on Kara’s back, gently squeezing muscles, and rubbing her arms. Kara purred like a contented dog, leaning into her touch. The vampire’s fingers combed through her fur, rubbing and caressing her wide neck, her broad shoulders, and finally, the soft ruff of fur along her chest, closer and closer to some of her most sensitive places. Kara smirked. Her Mistress smirked back. Cold fingers squeezed the firm flesh of her nipples and the hard metal contained within. A gentle purr emanated from Kara’s throat. Lady Dolingen smiled, standing tall before the enthralled werewolf kneeling at her feet.
“Let’s go home, pet,” she said. “I would shudder to think of one of your comrades finding us here, wrapped up with one another. They might get jealous.”
Kara smiled, waiting for the pull of the collar. It never came. Gently, a pale, cold hand took her enormous, clawed and padded paw. And then she saw a ring worn next to the large ruby on her finger up close, on the same hand that had been used to command her. It was the exact same color and shape of her collar, only in miniature. In a way, she supposed, it was a more than a device to control her: it was a link between them, matching jewelry to be worn for life like a wedding ring, honoring an eternal vow.
Gently, she took the vampire’s hand and was led through the trees and deeper into the Evermore Forest.
|
|
|
