Page 34 of The Manticore's Human Queen
We walk forward through the snow, toward whatever future awaits beyond the horizon. Together, as we were always meant to be.
Free.
36
ANNELISE
Consciousness jolts me awake in fragmented bursts, Tarek’s powerful strides jostling my body. Cold air, sharp with pine and snow, bites my cheeks, but his massive arms envelop me, a fortress of warmth against the Kaynvu wilderness. Behind us, the night sky glows orange, the Roraelli estate’s funeral pyre a fading echo of our escape.
I force my eyes open, meeting Tarek’s granite profile, his jaw set with grim determination. Blood seeps through his torn tunic, a dark patch from a crossbow bolt, his manticore strength pushing past limits to carry me to safety. The chaos of the ballroom—screams, Tarek’s triumphant roar as he shattered his chains—feels like a fever dream, but his heartbeat against my ear grounds me in reality.
“Tarek,” I whisper, twisting in his arms, “you have to stop. You’re hurt.”
He doesn’t break stride, his eyes fixed on the dark trees ahead. “We’re not safe yet,” he rumbles, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “They’ll send hunters.”
“They’ll find a corpse if you don’t rest,” I insist, struggling against his hold. “Let me tend your wounds.” The fear of losinghim to the frost, after surviving fire and blood, grips me tighter than his arms.
He falters, surprise flickering in his weary eyes, my voice carrying the weight of our new partnership. With a shuddering sigh, he veers into a sheltered hollow, a semi-dry spot beneath snow-laden pines and a rocky outcrop. Gently, he sets me down, the loss of his warmth sharp as I shiver in my tattered, blood-red gown.
Tarek kneels, coaxing a small fire to life with flint and tinder, its defiant glow a beacon in the vast darkness. I watch, my heart aching with love for this man who fought like a god to free me. Pushing to my feet, I ignore my bruises and command softly, “Now you—sit.”
He hesitates, but my resolve holds firm, and with a groan of pain, he sinks to the ground. I kneel before him, tearing a strip of silk from my hem and dipping it in melted snow to clean the bloody wound on his shoulder. His heavy silence watches me, his gaze a steady anchor on my face.
I press my lips to a silver scar on his collarbone, a reverent prayer for his survival. His breath catches, a low growl escaping as my kisses trail to his arm, his chest, anointing his pain. My tenderness sparks something primal, his hands pulling me onto his lap, the fire’s glow casting shadows on his scarred frame.
“Annelise,” he murmurs, his mouth finding mine in a slow, soul-deep kiss, raw and chosen in our newfound freedom.
“I want you—take me as you please,” I whisper, my voice a sultry command, craving to give him everything. His eyes darken, manticore hunger flaring, his erection pressing against me through his tattered pants.
“I want your ass,” he commands, his voice thick with desire.
I slide off his lap, turning to face the muddy earth, my gown’s hem dragging in the wet soil. “Fuck it, Tarek—take my ass,” Ipurr, pushing it upward, my face sinking into the cold, gritty mud, the filth kissing my cheeks.
“You’re my dirty whore queen, and I will fuck your ass,” he growls, his claws grazing my shoulders as he positions himself behind me.
His thick cock presses against my rim, the stretch sharp and biting, a delicious hurt that draws a moan from my lips. “Take it, my whore—please your king,” he snarls, thrusting hard, filling my ass with a quick, brutal intensity.
The mud clings to my face, gritty and cold, but I revel in it, the rawness fueling my joy in pleasing him. “Harder, beast—fuck your queen’s ass,” I gasp, the slight pain a spark that ignites my pleasure, my body rocking to meet his relentless thrusts. His rhythm is unyielding, each drive sending shocks through me, my cries muffled by the earth.
“You love your beast king fucking your ass,” he groans, his claws digging into my hips, his pace merciless. I push back, savoring the hurt, my heart soaring with the thrill of giving him this.
“I’m not sure I can take it anymore,” I cry out, my body trembling on the edge.
“Take the beasts cock in your ass, beg for more,” he commands, and I submit to his relentless assault, the world blurring as pleasure and pain collide.
“Fuck my ass beast, fuck it hard,” I cry out.
“My sult, I owe you now,” and lowers his full weight on my body. Pumping at me, stabbing his thick cock into my ass.
“Cum for me, Tarek—fill me,” I beg, my voice thick with devotion, desperate for his release before I lose myself completely.
He keeps going, relentless, my face sinking deeper into the mud, my breath stolen. My ass, my pussy—they’re no longer mine. They belong to him, and he, the beast, knows it. His roarshakes the hollow, his climax flooding me, hot and fierce, a primal claim that leaves me trembling.
The pain stings, but it can’t dim my love. My joy in his pleasure overwhelms me. I collapse into the mud, face down, his warmth still inside me, a smile curving my lips despite the ache.
We lie together, the fire crackling, his arm possessive around me. “You’re my everything, Annelise,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, his manticore strength a shield against the cold.
My body is used, muddy, my ass sore, but I’ve never felt more alive, our bond sealed in this wild, free act. My beast will always be fulfilled.
