***** Lamentation's Course *****
Brandon sat in the backseat of the S.U.V., and caressed Sara's hair while mumbling to himself in soft tones. Mercedes watched the strange act through the rearview mirror as she drove down the highway, and was puzzled by the care the large man was showing the unconscious woman that rested in his lap. She could feel his elation as he studied his prize, and knew that for Brandon, this was the fulfillment of a fanatical desire.
Every few miles she would chance a glance into the backseat, where she would take in the odd scene. Brandon noticed as they crossed into Oregon, and commented, "You really taught that whelp a lesson. Good job, killer."
Brandon had meant it as a term of endearment, but it only worked to confuse the poor woman, who was still tormented by what she had done. The joy and appreciation she felt from Brandon through their bond added to her confusion, and felt like a ray of light shining through the longest and darkest storm of her life. It became difficult for her to focus on the terrible things he had done to her as she felt his elation build within her; she had pleased her mate, and their magical connection rewarded her for her deeds — her terrible, despicable deeds. In so many ways, she lamented where she was, and realized how much better her life would have been if she had bonded with someone — with anyone — else.
Her hands trembled on the steering wheel, and when she closed her eyes, she saw Andrew's dead eyes looking back at her. A frightening image that followed her from the Olympic National Park, and reminded her of what she had been forced to do. Mercedes ran her hands over her jeans in an attempt to remove the phantom blood that she felt on her fingers. Despite having washed her hands in a stream when they had fled to their stolen vehicle, every time she studied her immaculate hands, they always felt dirty.
"There, there, sweet girl," Brandon cooed as he pet Sara's damp hair. The bruise he had given her was already fading, but his caress seemed to do little to calm the young woman, who tossed and turned in her sleep. "You're free from that awful wizard, kitty. Just relax and heal. Everything will be better now," he said, with a tender expression on his face.
The sound of rattling chains filled the cab of the vehicle as Sara bucked against some unseen force within her dream, before she whimpered, "Andrew, no," and continued to twist in Brandon's lap.
Mercede's watched from the driver's seat, and was mesmerized by the compassion she could see in Brandon's eyes and feel through their bond — he seemed nothing like the monster she had come to know.
She had not known Sara well — their time together in the clowder had been brief — but the fiery redhead had always been fun and compassionate, finding ways to take joy from most of the moments they shared. The worst thing that Mercedes could say about Sara, was that she had been unyielding. She was true to herself, and while she never expected anyone else to bend to her will, she often played in isolation, because the rest of the group would do something she found no interest in.
It was fair to say that Mercedes liked Sara, and wanted to save the younger woman from her fate. As the miles passed by, and Mercedes narrowed in on their destination, she wondered how long Brandon would try and force a bond on Sara, before realizing that he would never convince her to love him. Would it take hours, days, or maybe months?
There were two things that Mercedes knew: Sara would never love Brandon, and Brandon would kill her the moment he realized that.
***** Divine Inspection *****
The Mother Superior stood at the edge of a white marble chamber, her white gossamer robe billowing out behind her with the force of the cool breeze that rushed in from the outside world. The translucent robe did nothing to hide her naked body, which was illuminated by the bright sun that flowed into the large open bed chamber. Though her silver-blue eyes stared off towards the massive clouds that roiled beneath her, it was clear that her focus was elsewhere, as her eyes failed to track the steady changes that were rippling across the watery mountains that shifted hundreds of feet below.
"What is it, my everything?" a deep and commanding voice asked as it approached her from behind.
She seemed small, almost insignificant, as she was enveloped in the shadow of the large man who stood behind her. The All Father knew better than to disrupt his matron when she was having a vision, so he idled the moments by with visions of her body.
Her skin was without blemish, and seemed to possess a golden iridescence that captured and transformed the light as it crossed her. Like the All Father, her wings were dispelled, hidden from sight, and waiting to be summoned. Her long golden-blonde hair was bound in an intricate network of interwoven braids that he admired for both, their beauty, and their practicality. The numerous and powerful wards that were formed by their exacting design was subtle, and would be missed by all but the most observant.
They had shared a long life together, and despite the familiarity that time brought, he found her just as captivating as when he had first met her. He kissed her shoulder, and as he savored the taste of ambrosia on his lips, he could sense her arousal at the contact. She remained motionless as she stared into the distance, her eyes following some far-off event. The All Father basked in the warmth of her body as he pulled her against him, and the two lovers seemed to glow within the light of the sun as they surveyed the clouds below them.
The scent of her arousal began to fill the air, and was carried on the breeze through the rest of their bed chamber. He admired the view of their cloudy paradise while he waited for the Mother Superior to return to her senses. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation she stirred in his arms, and a chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned back against his strong chest.
There was a deep sense of longing in her voice, as she said, "My mighty Lord, had I known you would be waiting, I would have returned with haste." She pressed her body against his hardened length, her thin, semi-transparent robe allowing her body to slide against him with ease.
"It is as it should be, my everything. What of the Magus?"
The Mother Superior turned in the All Father's arms, and he could see the conflict in her ageless eyes. "It has been an eventful night in the mortal realm. The Dire Wolf fought with guile, placing the Forest Guardian at the edge of death. Her salvation came at the Healer's hands, with tremendous support from the Magus. He was left weak, and as his mate ferried him to their sanctuary, they were ambushed by the stray and his captive. The stray's command compelled the captive to kill Andrew."
"What a tragedy," he said, taking his bride by surprise.
She looked up, her silver-blue gaze showing the uncertainty that raced through her mind. "Why does this boy trouble me so?"
The All Father looked into the Mother Superior's eyes, and was reminded of the frailty that lurked within the woman's distant past. "Andrew was unlike any Magus you have ever hunted, and where you expected to see darkness, he gave light."
