Merrie sat at the gate of her master's grave but she couldn't force herself across the threshold. The memories and despair held her in place, frozen as if someone had dominated her with a spell. Around her, the cold wind blew out the gate and across her, prickling her skin and causing her nipples to harden from the icy touch. But, it was more than the howling winds and dark shadows that held her in place.
It was guilt and dread. The mansion was her master's grave. She thought it would be easy to take apart the spells, but as she looked at the ragged building and felt the memories lashing out at her, she realized she couldn't give it up. She couldn't bear the thought of losing it.
Tilting her head back, she leaned into the dark winds blowing around her. It felt good against her skin but it also reminded her that she was surrounded by death and destruction. The entire district was a trap for mortals and other creatures like the Reaper still prowled in the darkness.
But, she couldn't destroy the mansion. It was too important to her. It was a gravestone for the empty hole in her soul, the place that could never be filled. It was the last reminder of the good and love in her life, just as it was a stark sign that she could never truly be happy again.
She held out her arm but couldn't set it down. With a soft sob, she rested it on her knee and stared up at the broken windows and scorched walls. The front door had been broken in and there were stained bones scattered through the rotting garden. Her eyes drifted to the spots were the pack died and, even though the bodies had long since been eaten and scattered, she could see the hound's corpses in her mind.
Tears threatened to pour down, but she kept her emotions in check. For months she had despaired and avoided the place. She wanted it to be a shrine to her master's memory. But, in doing so, she had killed people: the memorials on the street and the beggars in the alley. All of them would be alive if she hadn't cast the region in shadow and death.
Her master, though he loved her with all his heart, wouldn't have clung to her memory so long. He would have sat on the bed and cried for days, but then he would have gotten up and stolen something. The mental image came clearly and she sobbed at the loneliness that tore into her. The tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. She missed him so much. Every morning, she woke up thinking of him and every night, she dreamed of his touch, his commands, his heart. She wanted to fill the empty hole in her soul but nothing could ever complete her again.
Like him, she had to let go. The mansion could no longer be his marker. But, as much as she knew she had to destroy the spells around it, she needed something. Something to remember him by, something she could hold close. When she first left the mansion, she took the cloak, but it was no longer her master's. Ever since it had become part of her, acting as her arms and now legs, it was no longer her master's. There were no more poignant memories in the fabric. Instead, it was simply part of her body. A lost slave without a master.
Merrie focused on the mansion itself. She needed something and it was inside the one place in the world she dreaded to enter. The only way she could ever let go of the mansion as a grave was to find a memory.
Tears ran down her cheeks as she contemplated entering. Merrie lifted one trembling arm and set it down inside the property. Shifting her weight, she listened to her ragged breathing. It ached in her chest to get closer, but she needed a different grave to his memory. Just because she was in agony didn't mean she had to destroy other lives.
Another step. Images of the battle came back, flashing through her mind as she felt the pack dying one by one. Watched as the paladin slaughtered Tamin. Felt as each dog willingly gave its life to save her and her master.
Another step. Her cloak flowed around her as she shifted her weight to her knee. It was a little easier to take the next and then the next.
The house loomed above her as she crawled up to the front door. The familiar creaks of the porch brought more memories back, battering her with cruel blows. He fucked her over the step one day. A few days later, it was on the stairs inside the house. And then on the floor of the bathroom.
Her body grew slick as the pain grew sharper. She pushed herself past the shattered door and into the entry hall. There was a stain mark where Rimmy had killed the mage sneaking into the building. Merrie crept closer to see where the knife had punched into the wooden floor, leaving a little gouge.
She had to choke back another sob as the tears came faster. She felt weak and helpless, unable to stop crying. But the memories were there, hanging over her in a cloud. She could barely crawl forward as she came to the foot of the stairs.
In the battle, someone had destroyed a section of the staircase. The blackened remains left only a narrow part remaining. The rest of it had collapsed into the storage closet underneath. Merrie remembered the closet, her master used it as a cage once and kept her locked in for half a day, just to hear her pawing at the wooden door.
She let the sad smile cross her lips. Without moving, she considered her path in the house. She thought about the kitchen and the porch, but that was where her master and mistress died. At the flash of memory, she jerked and tore her thoughts away from the vivid image of her master reaching out for her as he burned away. Tears rolled down her cheek as she turned away from the kitchen. She couldn't handle it yet.
The stairs looked too dangerous to crawl up and she didn't want to step into the Shadows to go there. That left only one place. Turning slowly, she regarded the hallway leading to her master's bedroom.
Sniffing, she crawled toward it. If there was anything that she could use to remember the happy times, it would be in the bedroom. She thought about his pillow, she could use that as a token of his memory. And then, maybe, she could release the spells surrounding the mansion.
But, at the door, she caught a whiff of his scent. The smell of it brought back a flood of memories and she froze as they assaulted her. Fucking and touching, his talks of insecurity and desire as he drifted to sleep. The playful way he felt before going on a job. Each one punched into her and left her gasping for breath.
Merrie froze in mid-crawl, her arm trembling as she reached for the door. His smell slammed into her and she sobbed. Stumbling forward, she slumped against the door and cried out. The cold wood was nothing compared to the despair and depression that curled around her.
She could feel the darkness rising up inside her. The shadows were growing darker. Her cloak snapped as it stretched out, spinning into the shape of a snake. Two eyes, pitch black, regarded her. She looked up through the haze of her tears, wishing it was her master that looked down at her, but it wasn't. The cloak was part of herself, her mind and her body. And when it was shaped like a snake, she knew that she was dangerously close to letting the darkness consume her again.
She took a long shuddering breath. The smell of her master, the musky scent of man, filled her. This time, she concentrated on the pleasure he gave her. The way he would throw her in the cage or fuck her against the bars. It was hard to remember the joy through the sharp memory of his death, but she struggled until the cloak lost its tension and fluttered to the ground.
Gasping for breath, she staggered into the room. She needed something more than rapidly fading memories. She needed something physical and concrete, an anchor to keep the thoughts from turning into a despair she could never escape. Her eyes focused on his bed and his pillow, it would be a start until she could find something more emotional.
She barely made it to the bed before her willpower crumbled underneath the onslaught. The frighteningly clear memory of him dying slammed into her. The look on his face and the way his body burned with black flames. It was too much and she could feel the darkness clutching at her heart.
With a high-pitch cry, she collapsed to the ground. The impact crushed her breasts but she just curled into a tight ball. Tears ran down her cheeks, puddling on the wooden floor beneath her. Nothing would ever make the pain fade away; the empty hole in her heart had torn open again and there was nothing but despair and depression.
She felt movement over her. Rolling on her back, she flailed out but all she encountered was the fluttering fabric of her cloak. Peering through the haze of tears, she saw it once again poised over her. The two black eyes were wide and unblinking as it stared down at her.
The need to fight against the despair rose up. She couldn't let the darkness take her again. She bit down in her lips with the effort to fight it. Dreading her mind, she pulled up memories of pleasure but they cracked underneath the despair. In a flash, the joy of being slammed into a wall and fucked was crushed. More memories came, but they burned away under the despair clawing out from the hole in her soul.
She curled up tight and wrapped the cloak around her, squeezing down as she pretended that he was here again, just standing inside the bedroom door. Without him, her life was just a sham. She could never truly be happy again, not with him missing. The happiness that she felt when she was whoring was nothing compared to the love for her master. It would be just an illusion.
But, it was the only illusion she had left to keep back the darkness. She focused on the submissions and pleasures of being a whore, of fucking in alleys and the occasional home. She was a whore and, thought she would never truly be happy again, it was the only happiness she could get.
Trembling, she rolled on her stomach to push herself up. A twinkle underneath the bed caught her attention. She knew what it was, it was her master's engagement ring. The shadow stone was a dark mote in the shadows underneath the bed.
With more strength that she realized she had, Merrie crawled across the floor and stuck her head underneath the bed. The ring sat there, covered in dust, as a silent reminder of what happened that night. She wiped her face and reached out, the smooth end of her arm dragging across the ground.
The ring rolled away from her. She crawled further underneath the bed, until her tail was pressed up against the side. Heart pounding, she caught the ring and dragged it closer. It sparkled darkly as it came to halt in front of her nose.
Merrie let out a long, trembling breath. Little clouds of dust rose up around the ring and settled down. She stared at it, wallowing in the pain that ripped at her heart and the throb in her bones. It was going to be the greatest moment of her life, to have a master and a mistress. Neither one of them was good at dominating her—she smiled sadly at the memories—but just as her presence had given their lives structure, she was sure that they would learn how to properly dominate and command her. They would have all grown into their relationship, a bitch and her masters.
She stared at the ring. It was the thing she was looking for. A reminder of her happiness and hope, a sign of both her master and mistress. She grabbed it with both arms and inched out from underneath the bed. The heavy ring rolled along the ground until she could sit up, dust drifting around her in a cloud. There was so much hope and love in that moment he handed the ring. She remembered the warmth that all of them felt that night, before the paladin came.
Merrie brought it up to her lips and kissed it. (I do,) she projected as she remembered the words that both of them would say when they married.
The ring felt icy on her arm and she rolled it along her wrists for a moment before letting it tumble down the crevice of her arms. It fell between her elbows and struck her thigh with a little thud. A moment later, it was rolling into a pocket and hidden from sight.
She looked back up to the room with the sad smile still on her lips. But, as she thought about the ring, the overwhelming memories no longer tore at her. She missed him, more and more with every passing moment, but the despair no longer rose as long as she was thinking about the ring.
Getting back on her knees, she took a long deep breath. She turned her back on the old room and crawled back into the hall. She started down the hall, heading past the empty rooms to the one at the end where she had bonded. The ground was still stained with darkness that no sanding could remove. She stroked it with her wrist before crawling down the hall to the kitchen.
This time, she could weather the storm of emotions. Whenever she started to choke up with memories, she concentrated on the ring. It staved off the horror enough for her to crawl past the very place he died. The porch was much the way she left it behind. Fang and Gom had dropped their loot by the door. She pushed her arm through the gathered gold and jewelry before looking at the empty room that was her prison for so many weeks.
Merrie didn't know what she felt. She wasn't happy, but neither was she sobbing or struggling with her sorrow. Instead, she felt almost content, but that wasn't the right word. Accepting. She had finally accepted the pain inside her but also her master's death.
She looked up at the porch. It would take a long time to repair the building, more so even as an amputee. She also couldn't safely bring Nir back until the Shadowed District was purged of shadows.
Merrie thought about the explosion of pleasure and how it banished the shadows and the Reaper. Her smile grew wider. She could gather up pleasure and erase the darkness. This time, she could craft the shade around the building so it only shielded the mansion and her home. That way, she could provide for Nir.
If Kirin would only give her the time to purge her mistake.
Contented, Merrie crawled back through the front door. She knew what she had to do. Her wrists crunched on the gravel as she made her way back to the gate. She stopped at the entrance as she felt a bright presence dangerously close.
“I knew it,” Jarrek said in a low hiss. He had his two-handed sword held in front of him, brandishing it as a golden flame flickered up its length. The stylized “L” on the hilt pulsed with a steady beat like a heart.
Merrie froze in mid-crawl, her arm held above the ground as she watched him.
Holy magic glowed from the young paladin-in-training. It burned at the shadows clinging to him. The edges of darkness peeled back like burning paper and casting him in a pool of gold.
“Gillette may not see your true nature, but I knew the moment I saw you.” He stepped forward, crouching down.
Merrie's cloak snapped and wrapped around her, layering the darkness on top of each other. She felt the pressure grinding down on her as the cloak did what it could to protect her. She crouched down as the power rose up inside her.
“When I defeat you, Lemetri will finally grant me the power I need to destroy all evil.” His boots tapped against the cobblestones as he inched closer. He brought his sword into a ready position as he stepped on the curb before Merrie.
Merrie's heart quickened with fear. It was one of Lemitri's, a paladin. She gathered up her magic and cast it on herself, spinning through spells of speed and strength. Soon, her magic was pulsating in her ears and the steady beat gave her focus.
Jarrek whispered a prayer and brought his sword in a wide, overhead swing. “For Lemetri!”
The world slowed down for a moment and she flowed to the side, moving like her cloak, and the attack struck the ground centimeters away from her leg. She growled, a long deep noise that shook her to the core. She couldn't think of a combat spell to use, it was the one thing that her grandfather never taught her.
He yanked the sword up, spun around, and then brought it down again. The cobblestones shattered and shards of stone struck her face. The holy magic in the blade seared at her skin and her cloak peeled back away from it.
Merrie jerked and stepped back. She couldn't attack, she had nothing to fight with.
Jarrek tried to lash out at her with his feet, but missed wildly.
She backed away, trying to figure out some defense against Jarrek. She couldn't think of any and prepared to run.
“Stop moving, damn it, and fight!” Jarrek attacked wildly, hammering down with his sword. Stones shattered as he followed after her.
She tried to pull back and retreat into the mansion, but he chased her. His sword slammed into the rotting garden, sheering through a tree branch. Black leaves fluttered down around him as he swung again.
“Is,” he gasped, “your place? Your lair?”
Merrie felt something rising up inside her. It wasn't despair but anticipation. She could feel the threat bubbling in his mind and she was already responding to it as if was a command. Calligraphic spells ran across her mind as she responded without thinking.
“I'm going to burn it to the ground, if it is the last thing I do. Your evil will no longer—”
An intense feeling of protectiveness rose up inside Merrie. He had threatened her master's home, her home. The incomplete spell ran across her mind, the transformation spell she sought for so many days. She didn't hesitate. With a surge of power, she threw her energy into it and set off the spell.
A tingling rushed through her body as she felt her arms stretching as black paws slammed into the ground. Muscles rippled along her body, twisting and reforming it as short black hair sprouted along her skin. Her cloak sank into her body as the she felt her face stretching and pulling, reforming into the powerful jaws of a Bel Dark hound. Her growl shook her chest and she felt it shaking the air. She glared at Jarrek with pitch-black eyes that reflected the Shadows around her.
Jarrek hesitated, his face blanching. He stepped back and got a better grip on his sword. “Shadow spawn!”
With a bellow, he charged forward. His sword glowed brightly, burning away the shadows as he slashed down at Merrie.
Merrie's body melted into shadow and slipped to the side. As the sword came slamming down into the ground, she reformed and snapped out. Powerful jaws, fueled with magic, chomped down on Jarrek's wrists. There was a brief sensation of bare flesh against her lips before her teeth tore through his skin and and crunched down on bone. She pumped energy into the spell and her jaw cracked through his arms.
Hot blood flooded her mouth. Planting one foot on his chest, she shoved him away and tore his hands and sword from his body. A spray of blood arced high in the air.
Jarrek fell back on the ground. He screamed, a high-pitched voice, as he stared at the broken ends of his arms. Blood spurted out from the edges. “N-No. No, I was going to be a paladin!” He looked up with a cry. “Lemetri! Help me!”
A beam of light pierced down through the shadows and struck him in the head. Jarrek gasped and spread out his arms. “Thank you, thank you!” He was crying as he lifted his head in benediction.
As healing magic poured into him, Merrie didn't wait. She charged forward and opened her jaw.
Jarrek looked down just as she came into the light. It burned her skin and peeled back the cloak, but she was moving too fast. Remembering Sable's attack, she brought her mouth up between his legs and crunched down. She felt his pelvis shatter and a flood of blood poured into her mouth.
The light faded instantly as Jarrek fell back.
Enraged, Merrie shook him violently. His body snapped back and forth. Tendons and bones separated. His scream grew frantic and agonized. Merrie shook even harder, pouring power into her strength as she cracked him back and forth. She felt his spine snap and let go.
Jarrek hit the ground with a thud. The darkness rolled over him, gathering around as Merrie padded closer. The growl shook her body and blood dripped from her jaws. It splattered against the cobblestones as she circled closer.
“N-No, stay away!” Jarrek tried to crawl away but his arms slipped helplessly on the stone and his legs refused to move. “I'm good. You're evil, you're… you're the one who is suppose to die!”
She stalked after him, furious that a paladin, or even one in training, had threatened her home. She couldn't let him live, not after that. She padded closer with a growl deep in her canine chest.
Jarrek fumbled for his pendant, but the blood-soaked metal slipped from his shattered fingers. He gasped for breath, looking around for something.
The darkness behind him deepened into a black void. Black claws, ones that defied comprehension, reached out from the shadows and slammed on him.
He gasped as he look up at him, staring at a cage made from the inhuman claws that pierced the ground.
Merrie froze. She could feel the alien thoughts of the Lord of Shadows behind the grip.
The Lord pulled itself into sight, the black on black of the inhuman power.
Jarrek screamed shrilly, his eyes white with panic.
Merrie ignored him. She stared at the black entity before her. The boy was nothing but a mouse to it, a pathetic and insignificant creature compared to the incredible power that held him. She reached out into the alien thoughts; she was rebuked by the incomprehensible thoughts that slammed into her. She pushed back, struggling to project to the Lord of Shadows.
(Why me?)
The Lord dragged Jarrek toward the black void that made up its body. The boy was pawing uselessly at the claws that trapped it, splattering blood everywhere with his frantic efforts. His throat tore and his voice cracked but he kept on screaming. She watched the flash of his limbs as he jerked back and forth in his efforts to escape.
The claws clenched suddenly and there was a wet crunch. Blood spurted from between the Lord's claws but it evaporated into darkness before it hit the ground.
Merrie stared, stunned but unafraid. She felt a strange joy in seeing the man crushed to death. Lemetri had taken everything from her and she couldn't dredge even a hint of sympathy for Jarrek.
The Lord continued to squeeze down, grinding the flesh in its claws. Black light poured from the cracks, spreading out in all directions. One beam ran along the front of the mansion wall and the stone crumbled with age. More beams struck the trees, buildings across the street, and even the earth below it. Whatever it struck rotted away in an instant, all the life and energy was sucked out by the absolute darkness.
One of the beams of darkness washed over her. Something thin glittered between her and the claws and the darkness snapped to it. She flinched as the icy blast hit her, but unlike everything else, she didn't rot away. Instead, she felt power filling her, spreading out to fill every part of her body. The beam was so cold, it burned. Her senses screamed out in agony but she couldn't move her body.
More beams tilted toward her, focusing on her with an intense black beam of raw power. Her cloak peeled away and blossomed around her, stretching out into black wings as the darkness poured into her.
Her world focused on the beams striking her. The breath was locked in her throat and she felt the first burn of asphyxiation rising up from her depths. She started to cry but the light burned away the tears before they rolled down her cheeks. She stared into the darkness and saw nothing but emptiness, the void.
The line dwindled down into a thin line. It twisted, bulging out like no beam could ever move. Moving with unnatural grace, it began to wrap around itself, threading through loops as it weaved into a thick braid. More beams came winding up through the growing thickness.
She regained control of her senses. Trembling, she followed the line from the Lord's claw, through the space between then, and peered down. The braided cord pierced her chest, right between her breasts. It looked like the leash she had with her master.
A sob tore out of her. Was the Lord bringing her master back? Could it? She didn't know the powers of the Shadows but she didn't think it was capable of even that.
Dark joy spread out from her chest. It spread out across her body, hardening her nipples and bringing a heat to her pussy. It continued down her arms and legs to pool at the smooth ends of her amputations. It continued up, filling her with an icy balm that blended with the hope and anticipation.
She felt it blossoming inside her mind, in the most private of places behind her shields. Her body shaking, she closed her eyes and reached out, begging for the bond as it reformed.
It wasn't her master. She knew that immediately, but the low, growl that echoed through her mind was the second greatest mind in her life.
(Alpha?) projected Tamin as the hound sent out a tentative thought.
Merrie slumped to the ground, crying pathetically. She felt him in the hole in her heart, the raging emptiness that now had a small part of it filled. His thoughts were in hers, spreading out as she felt Tamin's need to obey and serve settling into place. He was hers to do as she command, to order. He would die for her again and do so willingly.
The Lord of Shadows stretched open claws of purest night. In its palm, the massive form of her dog stood up with shaking limbs. He swayed for a moment as its body solidified from the stuff of shadows and Jarrek's blood. Jet black eyes focused on her, as the hound focused on his only reason for being brought back to life.
His alpha.
Merrie stepped forward. (Is-Is it really you?)
Tamin's tail wagged and he stumbled for her. (Alpha!) There was joy and relief in the hound's mind.
Merrie surged forward, spreading open her arms as the hound slammed into her, slathering her face with his tongue. Tamin's breath had become a strange mixture of ethereal and spit, but she opened her mouth and kissed him back, clutching to him in fear he would fade away.
Joy filled her, pushing back the darkness, and she held him tightly. She had forgotten how large he was. His massive form dwarfed her, but he was as gentle as a puppy as he pressed against her.
Sobbing pathetically, she stroked his fur and held him tight. His emotions burned inside her, joy and happiness. It pulsed and she felt it spread out across her limbs, filling some of the empty hole with love.
With a gasp, she pulled back to thank the Lord of Shadows, but the alien entity was already gone. The darkness had receded and only shadows draped over the ruined buildings. The only remnants of the Lord's presence was the wide circle of sterile earth and an almost perfect circle of crumbled buildings and rotted stone fences.
(Thank you,) she projected as hard as she could, hoping the Lord could hear her.
There was no answer.
Returning her attention back to Tamin, she hugged him tight against her naked breasts. (How? I felt you die.)
The explosion slammed him through the wall of the porch. His litter mate's body punched into him, shielding him from the explosion even as the body was torn apart by the brilliant magic. The stench of burning fur and flesh choked his throat. The magic continued to assault him, tearing apart his companion's body. As it punched through the corpse, it burned away his own fur and peeled back the skin. Agony coursed over him.
He had failed his alpha. She had given him thought, life, and meaning and he had failed. She needed him at that moment, he could hear her screams through their connection, but he was too weak. He wished he could have done more in the brief moment they had, to serve the one he loved with all his heart.
Reaching out through the connection, he felt it fraying away with his body dying. His insides ruptured from the heat and he felt the agony coursing through him. He clutched to the bond with his alpha, holding on to serve her as long as he could.
Nothing.
His body burned away in flames and magic. Fur, flesh, and bone. Each one disappeared in oily smoke that clung to the air. But he was still aware, still conscious. He couldn't see anything, feel anything, or even hear. There was nothing but the void and a single, infinitely thin thread stretching through the worlds.
Somehow, he focused his attention on it. Felt the delicate strand grow tight with pain and agony. Flicker of despair strummed along the connection as he felt his alpha's alpha die. The barrier between Shadow and the other world thinned as black smoke poured in. It was the alpha's alpha.
The Lord of Shadows flowed past him and sank into the smoke. It inhaled, or something like inhaling, and drank in the ethereal smoke of the alpha's alpha. Energy rippled through the Lord and it grew larger, spreading out with black wings until it split in half. Four eyes opened into the Shadows. Where there was one Lord, now there were two.
But, his alpha was in pain. Her life was being sucked into the darkness with the alpha's alpha's. He couldn't lose her. With all his might, he reached through the delicate fragile connection and grabbed her agony. He held her spirit down, pinning it in place.
The pain washed back into him, turning the bond into an agonizing wire that tore into his soul. But, he had to serve his master. He would serve her with the rest of his life. He took the pain and screamed. He screamed and screamed but he held her tight, biting down on her soul to prevent her from being destroyed like the alpha's alpha.
The pain never stopped. It raged but he held on. It was the only thing he could do. He didn't know how time passed, but he felt it through flashes through the fragile connection. His master considering suicide, the first time she held out her arms to beg, when the dangerous thriban chased her. She needed him then and he gave it to her, finding the magic inside her that brought out her true form. He didn't understand the magic or the words, but he could push her to transform.
His connection almost snapped as she became the most beautiful bitch he had ever seen. And then again when she crossed back through. It was only her desperate throw back into the other world that kept it from breaking.
Months passed and the pain subsided. It no longer consumed his thoughts and he finally could relax. He took what she couldn't handle and bore it for her. He couldn't lick her or touch her, but he could be there. The last, fragile anchor holding her in place.
And then she found peace. When his master held on the shadow stone, she forgave herself and the pain ended. He bowed his head and readied himself to fade away, but the original Lord of Shadows had other plans. It gave him a body again, wrapped his mind in tissue and blood. It returned him to his form and gave him back for reasons he couldn't understand.
It didn't matter anymore why he was alive or why the Lord of Shadows brought him back. Tamin licked her face as she stared at him with shimmering eyes. All that matter was that he had his alpha back.
He loved her with all his life. He would die for her, not just once but again. As many lives as the Shadows would give him, he would use them to fight for her, to die for her. She was his alpha.