Page 50 of Shadowlands Omega

The two females talk a little bit longer while I prepare Kiandah a plate. “And he’s treating you okay?” Owenna says, dropping her voice to as low a whisper as possible, not that it helps. She might as well be shouting to my beast’s ears.

Kiandah doesn’t answer, though I wish she would. I want to know how she’d answer that question, but she must give some sign or other because her sister says, “Good,” while my back is turned.

When there is nothing left to say for the moment, at least in my presence, Owenna excuses herself with a promise to see her sister tomorrow at noon. She gives me a knowing look. I nod, dismissing her before returning to Kiandah.

“What was that about? Where did you go?” she says to me on a yawn as I bring her a plate of Orias rice and charred chicken. It’s not as warm as I would like it to be by now, but it does not seem to matter much to her.Content. Content with everything she has and everything she’s given.

It makes me want to give her the world.

I watch her eyes grow wide as she takes in the sight of the food and I use her distraction to my advantage and lean in. I slip my thumb beneath her chin and stroke my fingers along her jaw and soft earlobe. I tilt her face up to mine and watch her whisper words, my name, I don’t care. I kiss those thoughts away from her. I devour her hungrily and am not surprised when it takes her a moment to melt. Her fire is stoked by my desire and, when I lavish her lower lip with my tongue, she parts her lips and meets me kiss for kiss.

Her tongue pushes into my mouth and tangles with mine. She tastes so fucking good. I growl. She gasps and, as if finally remembering that she and I are in a detente, she tries to pull back, but I hold her close, releasing her only when I’m ready. Before I’m ready, but when I’mwilling.

In the closeness between us, filled with only the spicy scent of her food and the sweet smell of her breath, she says, “You are a naughty boy, Yaron, deserving of punishment, kissing me without permission.”

By gods. I’m hard instantly. The smell of antiseptic and blood on her skin does nothing to quell the sudden surge of need that beats through me. “Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking, while you were gone, how you should be punished.”

I cannot even remember what it is I’m meant to be punished for. And I don’t care at all. “And what did you decide?”

“Did my family make this for me?” she says, taking a bite from her tray before answering.

I debate telling her that I helped prepare the dish, then decide against. “Yes. What is my punishment, Kiandah?”

She smiles up at me, likely at the impatience in my voice. “I decided since you behave like such a beast, taking without permission, that you’ll sleep at the foot of my bed tonight, like the beast that you are.”

I grin. “In my beast form or as a man?”

“Beast, of course.” She takes another bite of the rice and her eyelids flutter.

My heart is beating hard. I can feel my pulse in my erection. I can think of little other than fulfilling her wishes. All of them.

I take my own plate and finish it quickly before shedding my clothing while her gaze moves with surety over my nakedness, falling to my cock and driving me to the brink of madness. Then I transform, shifting quickly into my Berserker’s true body, letting him take over.

The room shifts, everything taking on the silverish hue of night, illuminated by only the few sconces in the walls. Her jaw drops. The spoon she had been so diligently using to shovel rice into her mouth at a speed I found both hilarious and alarming hangs suspended in the air by her chin. She has seen me before as a beast, but in pieces. I don’t think she’s ever seen me before like this.

Fully formed. At her mercy — though she believes herself to be at mine. I prowl towards her, looming over her two human lengths high. I could not fit through the door of this room if I tried. I have an oversized bed to accomodate my beast’s form, but it only just fits my entire beast. I’ve never tried to share it before. But as she sits there, I step one paw up onto the bed and then the other three. I switch back and forth once before curling up into as small a ball as possible near her feet. I cover all of the bed, all of her legs. My head settles to their left, my snout pressed up against her hip lovingly…threateningly.

She no longer seems very hungry and slides her tray onto the side table before scurrying back to the center of the bed. There, she slides under the covers. “Um…goodnight, Yaron. Can you…understand me?”

I laugh, though the sound comes out a growl in this physical state. I move my head next to her legs, annoyed to be separated from her skin by the blanket, but I’ll allow it for this night and tomorrow I’ll work to be a good boy again and win my way back into her graces. With our planned excursion to the village, it will not be hard.

She reaches down and strokes her finger across my wet nose. Her two hands would span its entire length with her fingers spread wide. She scratches the top of my snout and I lean into her touch. She falls asleep with her fingers tangled in my fur and, at some point in the night, I burrow beneath the covers and press my snout to her stomach. She wraps herself around my massive head to the best of her ability and calls to me in her dreams.

“Such a good boy…” she whispers, her words laced with lust and promises.

16 | Kiandah

Orias Village

I’m not sure I’m going to like the excursion Yaron has planned.I woke up this morning to find him wearing skin instead of fur, naked and wrapped around me. He’d been awake, the naughty, naughty boy, and unrepentantly cupping my bare, wet core. I’d heated immediately, but he had pulled away before I was fully awake, and acted like it never happened, leaving me in a state of want so painful I wondered if he wasn’t a sadistic male. Or just a male determined to get what he wants. I’d been hard pressed not to tell him to forget his punishment and fuck me then and there.

But then he told me to get dressed and that we were going to the market. Again.

I’d been apprehensive when his mood changed. Now, sitting in the carriage while it jolts and jerks unsteadily down the Orias highway line, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. Yaron sits like a beast caged against the plush black seat cushion. He stares out of the window, occasionally making small growling sounds. He looks angry.

“What’s wrong?” I blurt, not liking that I’ve asked. It’s too informal. Too strange, talking to the Shadow Lord in this way.

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