Demon Wolf

Wolf nearly erupted with violence. Seeing a woman in such a wretched state brought distant memories flashing before his eyes, making him shake with rage.

No. Wait. This could be a misunderstanding. What would Mandy do? Wolf drew a deep breath. ‘Whenever you’re about to do something difficult to undo, count to five.’ Calm down. One. These women are eating and laughing while a gagged, beaten and piss covered girl lays at their feet. Two. She’s suffered wounds and they aren’t treating her. Three…

Erin smiled and licked her lips. A pretty boy-toy stood frozen before her, his hands trembling. His clothes hung loose, and he looked confused, reminding her of a discarded victim. This is your unlucky day, beauty.

The only dissonant detail breaking the image of her ideal, panicked prey was a long strip of bacon hanging from his closed mouth. Erin did not understand why bacon, but dry jerky would not stop her from catching fresh meat.

“Hey beautiful! What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, wandering the woods alone after dark? Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

Wolf was a lean man. He was the perfect height, two fingers shorter than her. His facial features were gentle and demure, his ears exotically pointed and his eyes a tad larger than normal. Just enough to awaken Erin’s primal desire to conquer and sully.

Erin swallowed her saliva, still grinning.

Fou— Fuck counting. That was a rapo line from Silver City’s slums. Wolf’s leg muscles coiled. Seeing him ready to jump, Erin dropped her bowl and sprang towards her prey before it fled.

“Erin don—” Maeve shouted, but before she finished her thought, Erin was midair.

In her bid to capture her startled little rabbit, Erin failed to coat herself with Qi. Wolf did not. He ducked under the lumbering woman’s assault. He clenched his Qi-reinforced fist and rammed his knuckles into her chest. His hand slammed against Erin’s sternum, shattering it. Then, the concentrated shockwave surged forward, piercing a hole through her torso.

Erin’s lifeless body soared and landed atop the campfire. The sudden burst of violence shocked Maeve’s and Kira’s minds blank.

A moment later, the stench of boiling blood reached Maeve’s brain through her nostrils, snapping her from her daze.

What the hells happened? she thought. That was the last question she asked herself before the elegant male clad in scrap slapped her head into mush.

Kira watched, wide-eyed. Those two were not the strongest warriors of her tribe, but since they worked for the matriarch’s sister, they were certainly above average.

Am I seeing things? Are they really dead? Ten… Who is he? Kira scanned Wolf’s hunting garbs for tribal insignia, but only found scratched patches of fur in several random spots.

His clothes are too big for him. Was he banished? Is he a runaway slave? Ten! I’m naked in front of such a beauty!

Wolf watched Kira blush, correctly inferring her embarrassment. However, he was dead wrong about the reason. “I’ll free you and cover you with something as soon as I treat your wounds.”

Wolf kneeled next to her, his right still scarlet with fresh blood. He held Kira’s calf and examined the twisted ankle.

“This will hurt.” Mid-sentence, he snapped her foot into place with a sickening pop, followed by the girl’s muffled scream.

You should do it after you say the words! Kira thought through tears. Maeve had not simply dislocated her joint. She cracked Kira’s fibula with her Qi-enhanced grip.

Wolf manipulated Kira’s body like a piece of meat, examining her injuries. He unintentionally spread her legs thrice, but he seemed not to notice, nor did his gaze stray. When inspecting her ribs, Wolf moved Kira’s breast with the disinterest of a man who had seen thousands of nude women.

Is he a healer? she wondered, feeling humiliated by the way Wolf ignored her handsome, muscular figure.

Finally, a glass vial appeared in his hand, and he poured and rubbed the liquid onto Kira’s wounds.

The solution bubbled and smoked upon contact with the rapidly healing lacerations. Kira took a deep breath through the nose as warmth spread through her legs, buttocks, and back, and as welts blessedly disappeared from her chest.

Lastly, Wolf checked her hands before meeting Kira’s gaze. “I will undo the cord around your wrists. This will hurt, but I’ll heal it up right away. Don’t move, otherwise it will hurt more.”

Facing that intent glare, Kira swallowed and nodded. Even if she was not grateful for his treatment, the fear this beautiful man induced by offhandedly killing her captors cowed her into obedience.

Her hands stung as the cord snapped, but then that cozy warmth spread through her palms and wrists as Wolf’s tender fingers expertly massaged her. She did not resist. Quite the contrary. Her face turned scarlet, and she wished she had some bruising on her breasts or inner thighs.

“I’ll remove the rag now. Don’t scream.” Wolf said, trying to reassure Kira.

Goosebumps covered her skin, her nipples were hard, and butterflies danced in her stomach. She had close contact with pretty boys before, but they were never as beautiful, nor as intimate as Wolf.

After a moment, she realized Wolf was still locking his gaze with hers, waiting for consent. Kira’s mind went blank. Those green-yellow irises mesmerized her. She smiled dumbly, as much as her rag allowed. Finally, Kira nodded.

Wolf unfastened the cord and took out the cloth from her mouth. She expected a kiss. In stories, it was the brave women saving weak men, but Kira did not dislike breaking tradition and having a beauty save her.

“Here. Drink this.” The awaited smooch never came. Instead, Wolf shoved a half-full vial into her hands.

Kira downed the bottle without glancing at it. Meanwhile, her mind raced. I’m covered in dirt. I stink! Ten! I— I— I peed myself! She dropped the empty flask and hid her face in embarrassment as warmths and comfort spread from her throat and belly.

“I’m sorry. I smell,” she mumbled into her palms, wanting to bash her head from shame.

Unexpectedly, Wolf placed a blanket over her shoulders. “It’s fine. That’s just urine. I stopped minding it after changing two dozen diapers or so. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Kira nodded, and for the first time witnessed Wolf retrieving an item from his holdingring.

“You have a holdingring?” she blurted, then dropped her gaze from feeling stupid and abashed. Mother has one, but holdingrings are something only rich and powerful have.

Then Kira recalled how Wolf blew a hole through a warrior’s body with a punch. Mother could also turn that woman into paste. He’s at least at the initial stage of the Blood Saturating realm. And he’s so young. I wonder if he would marry me?

Wolf glanced at the girl he saved. He found her cute and naive and stupid; kind of the way he was when he was younger. Unwittingly, his lips stretched into a fond smile.

“I do,” he said, and Kira’s heart fluttered at those words. Then, the invasive stench of death and charred flesh brought her back to grim reality, ending her fear induced adrenaline rush. She was kidnapped. This was a trap for her mother. The beautiful male who stroked her hands and feet, who massaged her butt, filling her stomach with butterflies, was a vicious murderer.

He didn’t blink after killing them. He didn’t stop to check their bodies and confirm they were dead. Kira shuddered. Don’t be stupid. One is headless, the other has fire burning through a hole in her chest.

“Are you cold?” Wolf asked, concerned about Kira. She was the only living source of information nearby.

“I… Yes,” Kira lied. She wanted to drag herself closer to the fire, but the stench of sizzling flesh grew unbearable.

Wolf caught her awkward glance. In two steps, he reached Erin’s corpse. He heaved her calf, then tossed her into the bushes. Kira quivered at the disturbing wet crack of Erin’s body striking a tree trunk.

“Eat up,” Wolf said, throwing Maeve’s corpse with as much ceremony and respect as he’d spared Erin. Back home, he would have stored them in his holdingring, but he was unwilling to waste his already deficient Anima on corpse disposal.

Kira bobbed her head. She stuffed the strip of bacon into her mouth. Where did his bacon go? 

Kira scanned the ground, but found no trace of pink marbled with white. Did he eat it while killing them?

“Are you from the Hare tribe?” Wolf asked while ruffling through the hunting pack with provisions, which Maeve carried. He fished out a waterskin and passed it to Kira. “Drink up.”

“Yeph,” she answered, her voice shaking even as she chewed the dried meat.

Her mind focused on the terror Wolf evoked. On his coldheartedness and disregard for life, which no woman Kira met matched. A part of her mind considered what he wanted from her, an even smaller bit handled chewing, failing to taste the bacon’s premium aroma.

Then, after Kira took a swig of water, her mind overloaded and her mental processes fell apart. She breathed in the unchewed bacon and choked, spraying meat and water.