This was no ordinary cave. It had all the earmarks of a secret hideout.
Stellan dropped her hand. Clarysa sat down, hugged her knees to her chest, and shivered. Rustling sounds met her ears. He was rummaging about in the dark. If her teeth weren’t chattering so hard, she would have inquired about his purpose.
Soft amber illumination filled the room as Stellan ignited a large fire in the hearth. Clarysa rushed to its warmth and nearly singed her hair as she huddled next to it. Pain seared her hands and feet, but the sensation comforted her. It was a sure sign they were thawing and not a victim of frostbite. Though she had thought all her tears spent, she cried with relief.
As Clarysa warmed by the fire, Stellan lumbered into the room with a snow-packed bucket. He emptied it into the cauldron hanging over the fire. After repeating the act four more times, the cauldron was soon full of hot water.
He then brought forth strips of cloth and several dark-colored bottles. Some were filled with oddly colored liquid and others with a thick, sweet-smelling salve. Clarysa guessed them to be magickal potions and ointments. Stellan fumbled around with several of the jars, but his oversize hands were far too clumsy for the delicate containers. He grunted in frustration.
Clarysa placed her hands over his paws. “Let me help you.” Using gestures, he showed her how to clean and dress his wounds.
Next, he revealed a store of tea and dried meats. All of it seemed stale, but it was certainly better than a diet of melted snow and tree bark. Clarysa soaked part of the meat in her tea to soften it. Stellan, on the other hand, found its condition to be entirely suitable, for he gulped down a portion big enough for at least five men. He lapped tea noisily from a large bowl.
Her appetite sated, Clarysa grew drowsy by the warmth of the fire. It had been a long, arduous day. She found some musty-smelling blankets and created a makeshift bed by the hearth. After Stellan finished eating, she motioned for him to join her. He padded toward her on all fours, nostrils flaring. She drew back the coarse blanket, her expression tender.
Stellan lay and curled up his great form. Clarysa crawled into the warm space between him and the fire. As she molded her body to his, a massive swath of coarse fur tickle her back. Beneath his coat lay a solid wall of corrugated muscle. No wonder he carried me so easily. Such brute strength!
With each rise and fall of his chest, a surge of warm, feral breath coated her neck and shoulders. Clarysa reveled in the comfort of the sweltering hollow, shifting her hips back to close the remaining space between them. Very little clothing separated fur from skin, she belatedly realized. Before going to bed, intense summer heat had prompted her to discard all her undergarments. At the thought, her cheeks warmed while a distinct coil of arousal tightened deeply within her.
Had Stellan noticed her near nakedness?
She shifted closer. Now her back was flush against his chest and abdomen. Regardless of her determination to be brave, tears threatened. Would this be their fate, woman and savage beast? Did any part of Stellan the man exist in this form? Clarysa worried that the cure for his transformation was far from reach. Ultimately, she decided it didn’t matter. Her love for him knew no limits. She absentmindedly rubbed her cold feet against his legs for warmth.
Would there be a wedding anymore? How would they even communicate? Her heart would break if she never heard his voice again. She stroked his fur and drummed it with little pats spurred by anxious need. She wanted so much to be a part of Stellan, to join with him in everything. No matter what happened, she would be with him–even if he remained a beast forever.
Soon, she writhed against him, seeking reassurance that despite his strange body, he still cared. With a whimper, she tried to draw his massive form as close as possible. Stretching, she searched for his face behind her. She held her hand there, against his muzzle.
Then she sensed movement.
Clarysa thought nothing of her bare legs that now intertwined with Stellan’s broad hind ones, but apparently he did, for one of them suddenly jutted between her thighs, splitting them wide apart. Or was it something else? The shadows thrown by the fire threw her senses into chaos.
Flexing her thighs, she pressed against him harder. Need drove her–this was still Stellan, her love, and she wanted to comfort him. A slow, rhythmic dance evolved as she rocked gently against him. Warmth spread within her, and then a telltale dampness.
The beast’s rough fur slid against the bare skin of her legs. The thrilling contact made her feel reckless and she squirmed even more. Behind her, the beast inhaled and then exhaled, harmonious with her own deep breaths. In time, a singular hardness protruded into her back. She froze. Was it a claw? A muscle? Or something emanating from regions dark and forbidden?
Clarysa closed her eyes and swallowed. A faint whisper of apprehension made her shiver. Would she? Could she?
Fixated on the hard, muscular weight between her thighs, she was only dimly aware of a massive, clawed extremity that stretched, swelled, and fanned apart above her. Then in a wicked rush it clinched her waist, encasing her in a firm grip. It was not so tight she couldn’t breathe but she couldn’t easily escape, either. The razor-sharp claws brushed the underside of her breasts, but did little more than graze her skin through the fabric.
Stellan’s embrace amplified her growing excitement. It was as if they were one, difficult to know where beast ended and woman began. Perspiration trickled from her brow. When had it grown so hot? Clarysa pushed hair back from her face even as she continued to wiggle and rub against him wherever freedom permitted. All the wanton
