Though he hadn't always been the nicest of wolves, Saracyn was doing his damnedest to make himself better in the wake of the loss of his children and the growth he had been forced to endure through the trauma. One of those many points of growth was realizing that he was not infallible, not this perfect being his spiritual beliefs had once had him believing. The Ancients had dealt him a savage blow to his ego, reminding him of his mortality, and in that awakening Saracyn was doing his best to atone for the arrogant pride that had brought him to that fall. That included making amends with Scylla and Albion. He hadn't treated them well in his youth and it felt like the right place to start. Scylla had been one of the few wolves to not see him as being lesser for being born male in a female-dominated family. She'd been mostly kind and hell even playful with him if he was honest—not to mention their little tryst after she darted him out in the woods. That night still played in Sara's mind from time to time. And even when all was said and done, she had still chosen to stay in Elysium with her brothers to his family's benefit. Scylla had proven her loyalty tenfold and all he'd repaid her with so far was snark.

The crimson brute had asked Scylla out to join him for a moonlit walk and a bit of wine as a first step to rebuilding a bridge between them. As simple as it was, this was a huge step for Saracyn. Admitting fault and owning his wrongdoings were not things the Mendacium prince had ever been good at, but he was going to try. He wanted to show Scylla he was worth believing in. He arrived at the rendezvous spot amidst the many scattered boulders of the rock garden just before midnight, a bottle of one of the finer wines they'd purchased from the Hallows in his jaws. A full moon hung high in the inky black sky, cascading silver light across the world. Nearby, the dark ocean waves glittered in the moonlight, and a warm late spring breeze rippled through the night. It was all very tranquil and picturesque. Now all he needed to do was wait for the little slate fae to make her appearance.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

Ava had begged so prettily for Scylla to fuck her brother that the small, blue lady agreed to do just that. Turnabout was fair play, and all that. Avacyn had fucked Albion (In more ways than one) so Scylla was well within her rights to fuck Saracyn. Whether he liked it or not didn't much matter to the Klein fae. She would be even with the Mendacium woman once that was over with. On top of that, if their plan worked, Ava would owe her so, so much.

The plan was for Scylla to meet Saracyn for a walk and a drink. If anyone knew anything about the Klein woman though, it was that plans had a habit of changing. She was about to treat Sara to the same five start treatment that she'd graced Alastor with. One could only hope that the son would be as grateful as the father.

Coming upon Sara, Scylla put a believably worried expression on her pretty little face. "I'm sorry to ruin your plans, but we have a problem." Without waiting for him to question her, Scylla led him off towards the far edge of the rock garden. There, deliberately situation on the border, was a foursome of wolves. All big boys, though only one seemed to have dire height.

Scylla leaned in close to Saracyn's ear and whispered within, her sweet, warm breath gently ruffling the fur there. "Trespassers. I caught them earlier stealing prey from Elysium lands but I needed backup." One brow lifted and Scylla cast the man a side-eye. "I do have a plan, if you'll follow my lead."

"Scylla Klein"

Scylla arrived in much the same way that a banshee might appear over a moor, silent and swift with graceful strides that left no trace of her in her wake. Saracyn was almost startled by her sudden appearance had he not been expecting her to show up. But before they could begin their evening together and before he could even utter a word of apology for his behavior to her, she was issuing her own apology; their plans would have to be postponed. Sara's brow furrowed, head taking the typical confused canine tilt as he listened to her. There was a problem? What sort of problem? With his jaws occupied by the bottle of wine he was unable to ask any follow up questions, so as the petite fae slid off into the darkness, all the dire brute could do was follow behind. Surely wherever she was taking him would shed some light on his confusion in due time.

Sure enough, at the far border of the Rock Garden sat four strange brutes—vagabonds and trespassers. Cerulean eyes leered with sharp aggression out at the four strangers, a growl barely suppressed in his throat. How dare they set foot on his family's lands! Scylla whispered in his ear, sweet and deadly as she promised a plan to deal with these poachers. Saracyn was, of course, all ears. Setting the bottle of wine down beside a rock, the massive brute slid down to his belly and into the shadows to help conceal his presence. Scylla was far more stealthily inclined than he was. "What's your plan?" he whispered back in husky tones. Whatever she was concocting in her wicked mind, it surely was better than his idea of shock and awe and carnage.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

Sara was playing right into her paws and he was doing it so nicely. When he asked after her plan, the cobalt fae grinned, flashing pristine whites. "Let me distract them and you come in blazing from behind." It had worked for his father and Scylla hoped that it would work for the son as well. If Saracyn didn't like the gift that she was about to give him, then she'd most likely lose a little respect. Alastor was a difficult wolf to live up to though.

Without waiting for Saracyn to agree or disagree, Scylla slid her body along the length of his own before padding around the clearing, much like she had done before. The small fae came out on the opposite side and moved towards the group of brutes. Since most males were controlled by their cocks, Scylla had little doubt that they would jump at the chance to play with a lone female.

Scylla smiled sweetly at the four wolves, her long tail swishing lightly spreading her delicate scent on the wind. Pheromones were interesting things and she'd been experimenting with them. This would be yet another experiment to see if she could make them believe that she was in heat, despite this not being the case.

"I was hoping that you gentlemen might help me out with a little problem," she purred, drawing into the center of the group for a moment before walking back out again. Her scent danced around the brutes and Scylla deposited herself outside of their circle again. "Oh, we'll help you, alright. Help ourselves too," snickered one of the males. "I was hoping you'd say that," the cobalt and cream fae chuckled huskily. Her gaze looked towards the foliage where Saracyn lay in wait. She flashed him a grin as the first brute came up beside her and reached out, ready to take what he thought was his.

"Scylla"

Scylla's wicked grin told him all he needed to know, and before he could ask any questions, the slate and cream fae just told him to come in guns blazing when she distracted him, and then the game was afoot. She brushed her side against his and was off like a shadow through the night, heading right for the group of brutes. Saracyn gave a little quiver of enjoyment from her contact and just breathed a sigh as he began to stalk his way through the darkness, keeping below the crests of the ruins to remain hidden as he crept closer to the trespassers. He didn't know what sort of distraction Scylla had in mind since she'd spared him all of the details, but he figured he'd likely know the signal when he saw it. As the dire brute lurked around the darkness just out of range and downwind from the intruders, piercing cerulean eyes watching the unsuspecting wolves as he waited for Scylla's signal to begin the fun.

The scene that unfolded before him was... not what Saracyn had been expecting. Scylla just came sauntering out of the shadows like some sort of harlot, all sultry grins and swaying hips and swishing her long tail. Sara watched as the brutes were immediately captivated—and then he realized why. Standing downwind of the group, Saracyn was the last to pick up on the pheromone perfume Scylla was wearing, the faux scent of a fae in heat striking his nose and triggering every synapse in his brain. A twinge of primal instinct kicked in, and for a brief moment Saracyn questioned whether or not Scylla actually was in heat or if his brain and nose were being tricked. That primal urge manifested as a deep burning lust in his core, but it also manifested as a visceral urge for violence, and these brutes that were beginning to surround Scylla fit the bill perfectly.

With where he was positioned, the quartet of trespassers were between him and Scylla, meaning as the leader reached for her, he couldn't immediately rush in to stop him. Surely Scylla had a plan for that. The other three, however... That violent urge boiled up in his core again, the heat rising as they leered at Scylla with lecherous grins. How dare they eye up his fae like that. No... not his fae, he had to remind himself. The rush of testosterone was getting the best of him. Better burn it off before it got unbearable. As Scylla had instructed him, with the brutes sufficiently distracted, Saracyn sprung from the shadows with a feral snarl, lunging for the closest wolf. The poor sod didn't even get a chance to react before the giant crimson brute was upon him, strong jaws latching down onto a hind leg and snapping his femur like a twig. The brute screamed in shock and agony while Saracyn continued his ruthless assault, sinking razor sharp serrated fangs into the soft tissue where the wolf's neck met his shoulder. Blood pooled in his mouth as Sara began to shake, thrashing the smaller male back and forth like a rag doll, shredding into his neck like a savage. One giant forepaw grabbed the screaming male's head as his jaws sank in deeper, fangs hitting vertebrae, and then he yanked hard. The brute's head snapped to the side with a sickening crunch. Sara felt the crunching of bone against his teeth and then the wolf went silent, dead before he knew what was happening.

By now, the others had turned to see their friend as he was mutilated and murdered, shock, horror, and rage mixing on their faces. Saracyn just dropped the bloodied corpse to the ground, heavy breaths raising and collapsing his broad chest as he leered like a predator at his foes. One down, three to go...

"Saracyn Mendacium"

A big, strong foreleg wrapped around the small fae, pulling her svelte frame in tight against his body. Scylla kept her gaze locked on Saracyn where he hid in the bushes. The brute had just begun to mount her when the red Mendacium sprung into the clearing. The cobalt and cream woman watched, a smile on her maw, as Sara ripped the life from one of the wolves. The other three stared in shock and Scylla leaned up to whisper in the ear of the lead wolf, "Oh no, are you going to protect me? I'll owe you a favorrrr," her lilting voice begged with an enticing tease. The brute pushed her behind him, intent on keeping his prize safe. Ah, males... they were so stupid.

With three sets of eyes locked on Saracyn, Scylla was forgotten. She could do as she pleased. The big wolf, the one that had tried to mount her, stood at the center of the trio. Sliding her serpentine blade from its sheath, the diminutive lady moved forward, flicking her weapon outwards. It came back with blood upon it before the wolf even knew what was happening. One moment he was standing and growling, the next his hind legs wouldn't hold him up. Scylla had severed both hind achilles tendons.

The other two wolves were confused at first, then enraged. One made its way for Saracyn and the other made its way for Scylla. The leader was attempting to drag himself away, but he wouldn't get far. The woman nonchalantly wiped the blood from her blade and slid it back into its sheath at her wrist. It seemed as though she hadn't a care in the world as the brute came for her. She didn't need to worry. Yes, Scylla was small, but she was lightning quick and she knew how to fight. When the wolf was in striking distance, she was more than ready for him.

"Scylla"

As tempting as it was to stop and continue to watch the display Scylla was putting on with the other brutes, all Saracyn's mind was consumed by was a bloodlust to tear apart these brutes apart, especially the lead wolf who was trying to push Scylla behind him like she was some toy he could possess and keep away from him. Sara's eyes blazed with a violent inferno as he snarled at the lead brute, but there was still two others in his way. At least, there was, until the leader dropped to the ground with a howl of pain and revealed a wickedly grinning Scylla brandishing a bloodied blade. She had crippled the leader behind his back and was now trying to crawl away for his life. With the remaining two trespassers divided between them, Saracyn wasted no time charging for the larger of the two males.

The two brutes collided like a landslide, massive bodies of taut powerful muscle crashing together in a violent show of hostility. Sara's jaws snapped at his opponent's, the clack of fangs gnashing together resounding between the two wolves as they pushed and fought to gain the upper hand over the other. Saracyn grunted and snarled as he shoved back against the other brute, biding his time until he could find his opening and ducked beneath his opponent's snapping jaws. From below, Sara lunged forward and wrapped his jaws around the brute's throat, using his strength and momentum to toss the other brute to the ground. The wolf below him yelped in panic, but that sound was swiftly reduced to a wet guttural choking as Sara's sharklike fangs tore straight through the soft flesh and sinew until hot metallic blood poured into his mouth.

The killing blow had been struck and Saracyn could leave the wolf to his fate—but Saracyn was not a kind brute. Still clutching the dying wolf by his throat, Sara hefted his opponent up by the neck and then slammed him back down into the ground, his serrated fangs tearing deeper and deeper with every lift and slam into the blood-soaked ground. Then, with one great slam down and a push of a paw on the brute's head, Saracyn's jaws snapped straight through the brute's spinal cord, severing his skull from his body and decapitating him with his sheer strength. Sara tossed the now limp body aside and leered down at the blank stare on the severed head staring back up at him. The bloodstained crimson brute then looked back up to Scylla, looking to see how her fight had fared and if she needed his aid, though he doubted she would.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

When her opponent neared, jaws open, spittle flying, diving right for her, Scylla was cool as could be. She played out the timing in her head based on the speed with which the brute approached. At the last moment, she ducked and he sailed over her head. The wolf's paws skittered at the ground, trying to turn quickly, but the small fae literally had him by the balls. With her wiggly little digits, she grasped the testicles of the man, stopping him in his tracks. "Say ple-eeeeease..." the woman purred sweetly, lips curled up in a smile that was anything but. Claws dug into the sensitive flesh just enough to cause a whimper of pain and panic from the man. 'P-please!' he stuttered out and a dark, husky little chuckle rumbled in the fae's chest. She hadn't told him what he was begging for. Pity that he assumed he was begging for freedom.

"As you wish," With a sigh and an audible schct sound, the serpentine blade was in her paw once more. One moment the brute's balls were in her paw. The next... they were still in her paw, but they were no longer connected to their owner. As the man fell to the ground kicking and screaming, Scylla inspected the bloody little testicles in her paw. With a hmmph, she tossed them over her shoulder and padded towards the brute that was slowly hobbling away. He'd never escape. Not with a blood trail like that.

Giving her blade a little toss into the air, Scylla caught the hilt and started off after the man, grasping the blade between her teeth gently. When she was near enough, her jaws opened, dropping the weapon into her paw. 'No, w-wait!' But there would be no waiting. Scylla plunged the blade through the back of the wolf's neck with such force that it popped through his throat and dug into the earth beneath him. Blood pooled and Scylla took a step back, watching as the twitching man was reduced to a pile of lifeless flesh. Only then did she extract the blade, wiping it on the brute's fur before sliding it into its home once more.

Casting a glance over her shoulder, Scylla flashed Saracyn a winning grin, blood spattered on her face. She even went so far as to give him a thumbs up. All that was left now was the leader that was still trying to crawl to safety. With one paw, Scylla gestured to the man and made a little shooing motion, indication that Sara should finish.

"Scylla Klein"

While Saracyn slaughtered his opponent, Scylla had been busying herself butchering her own foe. With blade and precision she ended the life of the other in a spray of gore until all that remained was the crippled leader still trying to crawl to safety. Sara took a moment to look over the carnage the pair of heathens had wrought out in the garden this night and the behemoth of a brute couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—amongst a swell of other things as well. Bright cerulean eyes snapped to the blood soaked fae as she flashed him an award winning smile and a thumbs up, earning her a scoff and a smirk back from the Mendacium brute. She was incorrigible and ridiculous, but she did make him smile.

Scylla gave him the go ahead to wrap things up with the lead brute and Saracyn was not about to turn down the offer for more liberal violence. Turning and stalking up to the collapsed wolf with surprising grace for his size, Sara drew down on the pathetic wretch, ignoring the pained whines and sniveling coming from him. With a growl, Sara grasped the other brute by the scruff and began to drag him back towards the scene of carnage to drop him rather unceremoniously before Scylla. The brute yelped in pain and looked up in fear at his captors. "Say you're sorry," Saracyn snarled down at the crippled dire wolf. He wanted to humiliate and emasculate the brute that had tried to fuck his fae. The wolf hesitated, looking up at Scylla in terror until Sara slammed his head down hard into the ground and yanked him back up again. "Say. You're. Sorry." The brute winced and sputtered out, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Unmoved by the pleading of the trespasser, Sara yanked the brute's head back to expose his throat, then he lunged down and bit deep into the side of the wolf's throat, sinking serrated teeth through flesh and tearing away a large chunk of the wolf's neck. The brute gasped and gurgled as his blood poured from his ripped open windpipe, forepaws scrabbling uselessly at the dirt as he slowly exsanguinated right before their eyes.

Saracyn showed no mercy, holding the brute's head aloft with his destroyed throat pulled taut so the veins would empty their lifeblood out across the dirt, each beat of the wolf's heart pumping more and more blood to soak the grasses until the body went limp in Saracyn's grasp and those eyes that had leered lecherously at his Scylla turned into empty glass, never to see again. With the last of the wolves dead, the great dire brute tossed the cadaver away from them with a disgusted growl. He was absolutely soaked in blood and his heart was pounding in his chest, pumping adrenaline through his body. The heat of battle had ended, but the smoldering continued to grow deep in his belly. Nothing turned Saracyn on quite like a fight or bloodshed. Chest heaving with deep breaths, he turned to face Scylla once more, looking down at the blood-spattered fae with a familiar lustful gleam in his eyes. Their date night had been utterly fucked up by these wretches, but maybe the night could still be salvaged if Scylla was feeling the same urges he was after their bloodbath.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

Scylla watched as Saracyn worked, a happy little smile on her face. When he tracked down the incapacitated brute and drug him back kicking and screaming, the smile turned into a full out grin. 'Say you're sorry.' The red giant shook the bleeding wolf and made him look at Scylla. The tiny blue fae waved at the leader of the bunch and waited for his apology, which he definitely gave. A moment later blood was spraying over the ground like a geyser, claret spattering on Scylla's paws mostly, but a bit of the blood landed on her face. She didn't mind one bit. This sort of thing was all great fun to the speckle striped woman.

With all of the intruders now pushing up daisies, Scylla smiled up at Sara. "Surpriiiiiiiise," she said aloud, long tail swishing back and forth behind her. "I hope you enjoyed yourself." Forelegs stretched outward and the cobalt fae's svelt frame elongated like a cat trying to get comfortable. Earlier in the day she'd sent her bushdog out to talk to a band of loners that had been traipsing around outside of the territory. The little creature lured them inside with fancy words and promises of a royal woman that needed saving from her cruel captors. A reward was promised, but they hadn't even cared to ask what the reward was. Dummies.

On the raised little shelf of rock, Scylla lowered her head to her paws, mismatched eyes looking up towards the dire brute. "I thought you could use a bit of fun. Stuffy dates aren't really my thing, you know?" Her head tilted in the opposite direction. "I don't think they're yours either." Scylla was easy to romance. Kill some things, cover the ground in blood, give her a bit of rough stuff and she was yours. For a little while, at least.

"What would you like to do now, Saracyn Mendacium?" She released his name in a breathy purr, her long tail swishing back and forth languidly. The heat scent was still strong on that tail and she figured that he would be able to smell it over the rich tang of blood. In a way, she was taunting him. Would he give in to his baser nature or would he hold back because he had Avacyn at home? That remained to be seen.

"Scylla Klein"

No sooner had the last of the vagabonds been exterminated, Scylla's sing-songy voice called out a revelation—a surprise! Looking like a delighted child as she revealed that she had orchestrated this entire scenario, Saracyn watched the petite fae's stretch of satisfaction and the eager wiggle of her tail while she got herself comfortable on her rock pedestal, explaining her motives. Stuffy and formal dates weren't her style, and she correctly sussed out that they weren't his either. Sara didn't respond verbally, instead giving a more animalistic rumble of agreement while he studied her with an almost feral look in his eyes. As much as Saracyn enjoyed the nice dinners and dates Avacyn set up for them, he couldn't deny there was a simple, base pleasure in just getting to kill and fuck. It was as primal and natural as one could get, as core to their DNA as their primitive ancestors. It felt like a true return to form when he got to cut loose like this—and he only ever got it with Scylla.

Scylla got settled, laying languidly across the stone and spread out for him like a five-star meal ready and waiting to be devoured. She asked what he would like to do now that their entertainment was concluded, and the way she spoke his name in a seductive breathy purr made tingles race down the dire brute's spine and settle between his thighs with a needy ache. Her perfume, the faux scent of heat, it was infectious and intoxicating, coaxing out his base animal urges and desires, an innate instinct to breed, to procreate and further his bloodline. He knew Scylla wasn't actually in heat, but his body didn't, nor did it care. It wanted Scylla beneath him. He wanted Scylla beneath him—and on top of him, and in every way he could have her. Thoughts of Avacyn weren't even present in his mind. He had come to this date knowing he was courting Scylla so they could have her be their surrogate. He knew what that entailed, and he had put her as the sole focus in his mind. This night was meant for her and for him and he was going to make that so.

Pushing the corpse of the dead dire wolf aside, Saracyn stalked closer to Scylla, piercing cerulean eyes fixed on her the entire time. The marking on his face, the gift from a demonic god, glowed in the moonlight, adding a silvery white sheen to those eyes as they remained locked to her, transfixed, obsessed. Saracyn didn't stop his approach until he was upon the small slate fae, her scent swirling in the air around him like an inescapable miasma. She had asked him what he wanted to do, and there was only one answer on the near-feral brute's mind. "You." The great crimson behemoth lifted a giant paw and caught Scylla's jaw in his pads, tilting her muzzle up to claim it with his own in a deeply passionate kiss. The brute wasted no time parting their lips and letting his large tongue slip into Scylla's tiny maw, tasting her for the first time ever. Her flavor mixed with the coppery tang of blood; it was an addictive cocktail that made his male bits throb with need. Scylla had set up this lovely evening for them. Now he was going to show her his appreciation in the only way his carnal instincts demanded.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

The pretty little fae bit her lower lip, brows raised as she waited to see whether or not Sara liked his present. He remained silent, but she could see the feral lust in his eyes. A husky chuckle bubbled in Scylla's chest as the red and black brute stalked towards her. His scent was rich and pleasing and sparked memories of their time together. Well... her time with him. He hadn't exactly been a willing participant.

A paw gripped her chin, handling her to angle her muzzle in just the right way. Their lips met and Sara's tongue slipped inside. The sweet tinge of blood was mixed with his very own flavor and Scylla released an appreciative purr into their locked mouths. A little tingle of pleasure eked its way up her spine and the speckled fae drew back just enough to whisper softly against Saracyn's lips, "Did you ever think about getting revenge for our time together out in the snow?" The woman's tongue flicked out, dragging across the man's lower lip. There was fire in her mismatched eyes and, as the night grew darker, they seemed to glow even brighter, matching the luminescence of his own eye marking. Her head moved, muzzle sliding across his cheek so that she could whisper in his ear."No matter what you tell yourself, I know you liked it."

Pulling back, nimble paws pushed against stone and Scylla was seated tall once more. "Hopefully this is more than just duty, Saracyn." She gave another languid stretch and hopped down from the rock, motioning for him to follow. "I'm going to enjoy myself. You may as well too." The cobalt and cream fae moved out away from the glow of the fire and away from the carnage that they'd left behind. Scylla much preferred the blanket of darkness for these things. It made her feel more... primal. More feral.

A patch of soft grass would be their bed for the time being. Scylla's long tail lashed back and forth and she cast a glance over her shoulder at the dire brute. "Are you the top or me?" She teased him a bit, not able to help herself. "I promise that I'll be gentle."

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

Saracyn tasted Scylla's purr against his lips, that little sound of pleasure from the sultry fae sending delightful shivers racing down his spine. Knowing that he could bring her pleasure was a heady sensation; Scylla had always been a fiercely independent wolf who took care of herself, so knowing he could please her felt like an accomplishment. Their kiss lasted far too short for Sara's liking, but it was enough to give him a taste of her, to tease him and tempt him with the promise of more. The striped slate fae whispered against his lips, so close he could feel her every exhale against his muzzle. Did he ever think about taking revenge on her for the winter ambush? "More often than you think," the dire brute replied in rumbled, husky tones. Admitting to such fantasies felt like an admission of sin, yet Saracyn felt no shame for it. Why should he? Scylla was a sexy and attractive fae, any brute would fantasize about her having her way with them. He had just been lucky enough to get to live that fantasy. The fire burning in her eyes was mirrored in Sara's as he recalled their time in the snow, the memories further exciting certain parts of his anatomy.

She teased him and Sara couldn't help but grin and chuckle. "You know I did. You tasted exactly how much I enjoyed it." He was beyond feeling shame for what had happened. It had been hot, and while a younger Saracyn might have felt some sort of slight against his ego, the more mature Saracyn cared little for such things. The more mature Saracyn had come to realize a lot—including how much he actually cared for Scylla. They parted some so Scylla could sit up, and her words came as a bit of a surprise to Sara. This had never been about duty to him. Scylla had given him and Avacyn a gift, one they could never repay. This was not something he did begrudgingly and to think Scylla might believe he held that opinion... well, Saracyn was just going to have to show her how untrue that was. "This is no duty, Scylla," he remarked, following after her into the veil of darkness with a lecherous grin on his lips. "This is a pleasure. And I'm going to thoroughly enjoy every moment of it."

The giant crimson and ebony brute followed his slate and cream fae into the shadows of night, following her scent every step of the way like a hunter stalking his prey. Oh, but Scylla was no prey. This was more akin to two apex predators meeting. Their coupling would be glorious, witnessed only by the blood moon hanging overhead. In the dark, they could both let their innermost animalistic natures out and enjoy their mating to its fullest. With the setting for their tryst decided, Scylla teasingly asked who would top, earning her a smirk and a chuckle from Sara. By the time they were done tonight, he fully expected both of them to have topped one another at some point—but for now, he knew how he wanted to start things off.

Stalking up behind Scylla, Saracyn wasted no time wrapping his large forepaws around the svelte little fae's waist and hoisting her off her paws as if she weighed nothing, pulling her slender body to his while he turned and fell to his back across the soft grasses. Sara perched the diminutive fae atop of him straddling his belly, white-tipped paws rubbing over her hips and groping at her shapely ass, leering up at her with lecherous eyes and a toothy grin. "I don't want you to be gentle," he remarked as he gave her rump a playful smack. "You gave me a fun surprise, now I get to let you have your fun too." Saracyn sat up just enough to nip at the end of Scylla's snout and flick his tongue out across her nose in a playful kiss. "Don't hold back on me, Scylla, because I'm sure as hell not when I put you on your back next."

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

A peal of the most exquisite, sultry laughter echoed throughout the stone garden as Saracyn reminded Scylla that she'd tasted how much he enjoyed her former... unsolicited sexual exploits upon him. "And what a lovely taste it was," she purred before the pair began to walk off into the darkness together. Saracyn was showing her more of himself than he'd ever done before and the tiniest whisp of regret panged in the slate and cream fae's chest. They would have been great together. Would she let it show? Never. Everything was all smiles. A-Ok.

Saracyn assured Scylla that it wasn't duty and she was glad to hear it. The woman's pride had already taken a little hit, knowing that he hadn't chosen her. She was just here to give him something that he and his sister couldn't attain on their own. Ah, she was so selfless. A saint, really. The gods should smile down upon her and bless her for all eternity for this sacrifice. Well... it wasn't much of a sacrifice. Any hot blooded fae would want a piece of Saracyn. If they had a brain in their silly little heads, they would.

A moment later the red and black brute was manhandling her again, much to Scylla's delight. One of the benefits of being small was that she was easy to toss around. Sara assured her that he didn't want her to be gentle and his big paws began groping her womanly frame as he settled her atop him. Already she could feel his excitement pressing up against her and the growling promise that he made brought a lascivious smile arcing up the corners of the woman's maw.

Leaning in close, Scylla nipped and licked her temporary lover's chin, his lips, his cheek. The action pulled her lower body away from his arousal, which was the price of their difference in size. She made her way towards his ear, licking the edge before whispering softly. "Are you sure you want me on my back?" Another lick followed by a soft, breathy moan. "Or do you want to press me into the ground on my belly like our lesser ancestors?" Heat flared through the small fae at the thought of it. Unbridled passion. No rules. No judgement. Only volcanic lust and infinite pleasure.

Placing her paws on his chest, Scylla slid her body backwards, lining their bodies up expertly. Nimble digits wound into the thicker fur of the man's chest. She kept her eyes locked upon his as she pressed back, taking the first step in joining them together. "Be a beast with me, Saracyn."

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

Lying on his back beneath the full moon and the stars, both of them sticky with blood, making lewd jokes and innuendos back and forth with one another, it was hard to recall a time when Saracyn had hated Scylla. The brute had been an angry, contentious boy growing up and he had unfairly turned that aggression towards Scylla. He had lashed out trying to feel any semblance of control in his life, and in the end what good had it done? He had Avacyn, but he had hurt so many to get to where he was. He had scorned his arranged marriage with Scylla out of spite, and while he didn't think there was any love lost from her since she'd never shown any sorts of interest in him, it did make him wonder about the what ifs. What would they have been like together if different paths had been walked? Would this chemistry have ever manifested on a different road? There would be no answers to his musings, but it did make the Mendacium prince more than a little wistful—and perhaps remorseful too. He would never show that weakness though. Scylla deserved better than him anyway.

As he began to lavish her body with lustful touches, Saracyn felt Scylla crawl her way up his body, frustratingly moving that soft rump of hers away from his aching arousal, earning her a disappointed groan from the dire brute below her. It was a short-lived regret however, as those teasing little licks and nips at his face and muzzle brought a devilish smile to his lips. She asked in whispered, heated tones if he really wanted her on her back, or if he would prefer to press her down on her belly like their primal ancestors. That mental image caused the ache between his thighs to grow almost unbearable. Oh yeah, he liked that idea... Sara grit his teeth and let out a low, hungry growl in response to Scylla's proposition, that carnal fire burning out of control in his blue eyes.

Before he could reply, Scylla was sliding her svelte body back until Sara felt the hot press of intimate flesh together, coaxing a hot breath hissed out from clenched fangs. So agonizingly close...! He held her gaze, sinking into those mismatched jewels, her obsidian eye almost invisible in the dark. She was beautiful, a feral queen that brought out the animal in him. Fuck, Saracyn was a lucky brute tonight. She gripped his fur and Sara's paws squeezed at her hips, worshipping her body without inhibiting her movements. She wanted them to be beasts tonight and Saracyn would grant her wish. Grinning up at his little succubus practically in his lap, Sara growled in response, a deep and primal sound of a beast ready to rut. His hips bucked, thrusting up to slide himself against her, feeling the rub of heated flesh with a needy groan. "Then tempt your beast, Scylla," he rumbled back, claws pricking at the skin on her waist as serrated teeth flashed in the moonlight. He'd gladly be a beast with her—but she wouldn't be walking back to the island on her own volition by the time he was done with her.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

The pair touched and stroked, their bodies sliding over one another, lust pure and unrestrained. Saracyn slid his most intimate of parts against Scylla's core and tempted her by telling her to tempt her beast. The woman threw her head back as she sank onto him, joining their bodies, a moan of pure ecstasy careening up her throat to be released into the night air. Now that they were one, Scylla's claws prickled the skin of the brute beneath her. The woman was in her element. Tempt her beast? Scylla was a beast. "My beast will call yours out, Saracyn." She would make sure of it.

Expertly the cobalt fae's hips rolled taking more and more into her diminutive body. She bucked and growled, not at all ashamed of the carnal pleasure that she was experiencing. There was no room in sex for shame. Not if you were strong ad Scylla Klein was definitely that. She reveled in the power that she held, her body being able to say whether her lover would experience bliss or not. She knew just how to twist her hips, just how to squeeze her inner hand for optimum pleasure. Scylla was a goddess of lust and she let the veil of her mortal mask slip away.

Each roll, each thrust, each heated caress turned the spring within her core ever tighter. She was filled so perfectly, so completely, that she wouldn't last long this first time. Thankfully, Scylla was an athlete in the bedroom. She would be ready to go again and again and again. She probably couldn't walk by morning, but it was a price that she was willing to pay.

One paw slid down the length of Saracyn's leg, grasping his paw in her own and placing it upon her hip. She did the same with the other, forcing the brute to hold on for dear life as she prepared for her final assault. The woman's muscles pulsed and she squeezed down tightly dropping the entirety of her minuscule weight down on the brute's length. A cry tore from her throat and Scylla came undone, hips moving of their own volition as she rode out her pleasure atop the man below. The edges of her vision went black with the ferocity of her orgasm. It was one of the best she'd had to date.

In time, the heady feeling of pleasure dissipated and Scylla could breathe once more. She stayed seated upon her temporary lover, staring up towards the sky above for a time as she regained her breathing. Once she was no longer panting, Scylla finally looked down at Saracyn's face, meeting his gaze with her own. The act had made her feel... a little emotional, again thinking of the 'what ifs.' Before she could think better of it, the woman spoke. "I think I could very well have loved you, Strawberry." Really, he should take it as a compliment. Scylla wasn't sure that she was capable of love aside from her brothers. Saying as much to someone that didn't share her blood... it was a big thing.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

The response that Saracyn received from Scylla at his goading came in the form of the svelte nubile little fae sinking down onto his member, causing the giant brute's face to contort as the rush of heady pleasure, jaws clenched and teeth bared as he hissed out a breathy groan. With their bodies made one, Sara felt every movement Scylla's body made against his, her claws dancing across his chest leaving delightful tingles in their wake. She claimed her beast would call his out, and oh by the Ancients, he truly believed she would! Scylla owned him in this moment—body, mind, and soul. She claimed him with every roll of her hips, every squeeze of her body around his. Sara was in awe of Scylla in her element, his brain swimming and mind numb with the cascading waves of ecstasy that threatened to drown him each time their hips collided, and oh, how they collided with such earth-shattering force!

Scylla sang him a symphony of her carnal delights as they fucked beneath the light of the full moon. She was such a different experience from Avacyn. His mate was demure, introverted, submissive to him at his whim. Scylla was wild, untamed, raw sexual energy, primal in the way she commanded her body and exerted her skills over him. She set Saracyn's blood on fire, and he in turn sang his song of lust and pleasure back to her, grunts and moans and growls of ecstasy escaping him. His paws flexed over her hips, digging claws into her thighs to hold her close, closer, wanting her ever closer, like their bodies couldn't possibly be touching enough! Even from his back, Saracyn was an active participant, bucking into Scylla's movements like a wild mustang. Fuck, she was so good at this!

Reveling in this moment with his veritable goddess of sex and lust, Sara worshipped Scylla's body with his sounds and his movements. He was drunk on the pleasure, high on the lust. Sex had always been the brute's vice of choice, but this was like taking a hit of the finest designer drug. Every thrust, every grind, every press and slide and pull and squeeze tightened that ball of molten fire in his core, bringing him closer to the precipice. She was so snug, so unbelievably good at everything she did, she had the Mendacium brute seeing stars as he gazed up at her with lust-drunk eyes. He wasn't going to last long this first round either, but like the slate and cream fae bringing him to heaven and beyond, Sara had plenty of stamina to keep up with her all night.

Saracyn was snapped back into reality when he felt Scylla's paws upon his own, guiding them up her legs to rest on her shapely hips. Their eyes met, and then Scylla showed him why he was being told to hold onto her. Scylla's body redoubled her efforts on him, the rush of pleasure hitting Sara like crashing into a wall. Her muscles worked him over, her body swallowed all of his length into her core, Sara's vision blacked out amidst the assault and he was only vaguely aware of the noises she was coaxing from him, primal sounds crossed between guttural growls and heated moans. At the same time, the pair of lovers came undone, Sara's head falling back to the grass with a snarl as he was hurled straight into the throes of sweet release, paws clutching at her hips to keep Scylla's body pressed tight to him while they rode out the intensity of their orgasms together. Their bodies writhed, ground together, thrashed in one another's embrace as pleasure racked every nerve in his body. It was by far one of the best he'd ever had too.

As the peak ebbed away into the afterglow, Saracyn's senses slowly began to return, dulled by the haze of climax and ecstasy. The dire brute was panting, gasping for breath while he gazed up at Scylla still straddled across his waist. Bathed in moonlight, perched atop him like he was her throne and this was where she belonged, Saracyn felt his heart race. She was so beautiful in this moment, a seraphim of feral lusts slaked. His paws rubbed and roamed over her hips, savoring the feel of Scylla's curves in his paws while he could. She looked down at him and the moment their eyes met, those mismatched jewels piercing into his bright arctic blues, Sara felt the fire rise within him once more. Scylla wasn't the only one feeling the effects of ruefulness—especially not when she spoke, and the words that left her lips both made his heart skip and break at the same time.

She could have loved him... She could have. Ah, but Saracyn had ruined that chance forever. He'd been given a choice, and he had chosen. He could have had this with Scylla forever, right from the start. How different would his life had been if he'd followed through on their arranged marriage? Wistful melancholy punched him in his heart. Her sentimentality and vulnerability in this intimate moment both took Saracyn by surprise but also encouraged him to let his own walls down. Only two wolves had ever truly seen Saracyn without his guard up—Scylla was one of them. Cerulean eyes glazed over with that pleasure drunk afterglow and a yearning she'd stirred in him, Sara lifted one giant paw from her hip to stroke over her cheek, white-tipped toes gingerly following her jaw to the curve of her neck, touching her the way he would his soul mate.

Saracyn could have said the same words back to Scylla, told her the truth of how he could have loved her too, but the Mendacium brute had never been good with words. Actions, those he was good with. So he would show Scylla how much he could have loved her. With his paw sliding back up her neck to her cheek, Sara wrapped his paw around the back of Scylla's neck and pulled her svelte body down across his while they were still joined so he could sit up and press his muzzle to hers. Slowly, deeply, passionately. He kissed her the way he had when sealing his Soul Mating Pact. He poured all that Scylla meant to him into that kiss—passion, desire, lust, but also affection, admiration, respect. Saracyn kissed Scylla for as long as his lungs would permit him to, breaking away with a lecherous growl only once he had to breathe. Then, with a fire burning in his blue eyes, Sara kissed her again, tongue sliding into her maw to taste her, to feel her across his chest, connected at their hips, in his arms. He wanted to feel all of Scylla as much as he could and never let her go.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

The pair moved in tandem, each matching the other perfectly as though the gods had made them for one another. Well, the gods had been thwarted in their plans and this would never come to pass again once she was pregnant. That was the point of this whole encounter, after all. Saracyn would plant his pups within her belly. They would grow. She would bring them into the world. Then... that would be the end. The man beneath her would go back to his true love and Scylla... would continue to be Scylla. She was always fine. Everything was always okay. Nothing could ever get her down. Right? Hmm...

Once they'd reached the heights of pleasure, the wave of orgasm crashing over them both, the pair fought for breath. Scylla spoke her words to the man below her and the look that crossed his handsome face was unlike anything that she'd ever seen upon him before. There was... affection there. Admiration. It took Scylla aback. She hadn't been expecting him to reciprocate. Ugh, that made things so much worse. Would she let it show though? Never. That mask was firmly in place.

Paws drifted upwards, one cupping her cheek for a moment. Scylla leaned into it with a soft, purring growl. Saracyn had other things in mind and, with a gentle tug, he brought her lips down against his own. Blue and grey eyes closed as their lips touched. Scylla absorbed what she could from his moment, though it may have done her more harm than good in the long run. No matter what happened after this, she would remember this moment of shared affection between them.

Forced to breathe, they parted for only a moment, then Saracyn's mouth was feeding at Scylla's once more. Lips parted and their tongues danced, their individual flavors mingling into something completely new. Something rich and sultry and heady. Their bodies had been given time during the kiss to loosen once more, the tension flowing away as though on a stream. That was what they needed because she wasn't done with him yet.

Breaking the kiss, Scylla kept her lips close to Sara's. Lids lifted to half mast and the woman grazed the flesh of his chest with sharp little claws. "I've had my ride. It's your turn, Strawberry." Pressing down into his chest, Scylla rose up. Sliding forward just a bit parted their bodies and she instantly felt the loss of him in more ways than one. That was the end of loving sex. Scylla wasn't sure that she could take more of it. Not when she was forced to let him go after.

All four paws on the ground, Scylla took a step back from Saracyn so that he could rise as well if he wished. Her body ached in such a good way and, if things went according to plan, it would be difficult to walk by morning. "Come now, Saracyn Mendacium. Bring me the beast that I know is in there. You may never get another chance to fuck someone as hard and as rough as I want you to ever again." And then... she ran.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

It was almost painful kissing Scylla like this, pretending for the moment that nothing else existed outside of themselves and this moment. It was painful because Saracyn knew that there was an afterwards. There would be an end to their night, and they would have to return to reality and to the consequences of his choices. The little sounds of delight that Scylla made while he kissed her made the dire brute's chest tighten and heart pound like a sledgehammer against his ribcage. He thrived off of her reactions and sounds, each one fueling his desire for her and spurring him on to make her make more of those noises. He was treating Scylla the way he would if they were lovers... and fuck, did the bittersweetness hurt.

Saracyn savored their kiss, her taste, the feel of her tongue against his own. Their flavors together were rich and sweet and heady, and everything he imagined they'd be. By the time their kiss ended, their bodies had enough time to recover to allow them to separate, leaving the pair of wolves loose but still connected. Breathing a soft sigh, Sara opened his bright cerulean eyes and was met with the little Klein fae's face so close to his that he could feel her breath against his lips, her claws gingerly grazing his broad chest. Fuck... Sara knew the emotions tightening in his chest, but he dared not acknowledge them aloud. He couldn't—not for both their sakes.

Scylla spoke to him; she'd had her ride (which hell yeah, she had) and now it was his turn to release his beast for her. She slid her hips forward, separating their bodies. The cool spring evening air chilled his exposed length, and already he was missing the warmth of Scylla's body wrapped so snugly around him. It took all his self control to keep from grabbing her hips and sliding her back down onto him for round two immediately. But Scylla, it seemed, had other plans. The svelte minx of slate and cream slid off of him to the ground, leaving the Mendacium brute more than a little confused. What was she up to? Following her lead, Sara rolled to his paws and joined her in being upright, the head rush that came with it a pleasant little digestif to follow their passionate mating.

No sooner had he gotten up, Scylla was commanding him to bring his beast to her, claiming he might never get a chance to fuck someone as hard and rough as she wanted again. Saracyn stared down at Scylla in awe; she truly was a goddess of sex given flesh, wasn't she? She was right though. Avacyn wasn't the kind of wolf to enjoy the type of sex Scylla did—or the kind that he did deep down also. He didn't get to cut loose and go absolutely wild on her for sake of appearances, with her being the Matriarch and all. But Scylla... Scylla promised him a world of no restrictions, of no restrains. That was why when she ran, it didn't take Sara's primitive brain more than a fraction of a second to kick in and have him chase after her like a hunter after his prey.

Saracyn sprinted after Scylla with all his might, thundering over the rolling hills of the Rock Garden in pursuit of her. Scylla was quick and nimble, but Saracyn's long legs and wider stride allowed him to quickly close the gap. Sara was a primal beast in this moment, all traces of rational thought gone from behind blue eyes as he chased after the little fae that reeked of artificial heat scent. He was practically drooling as he leapt over rocks and pursued her like a ravenous predator. Powerful cords of muscles flexed and pulled beneath his coat while he chased her, giant paws racing across the ground. He was gaining on her, but she was a slippery one to catch. More than once, she would dart around some rocks and Sara would go skidding out trying to catch her, only to scramble to his paws and race after her again. Refusing to give up the chase until he had his fae in his paws again. He would have her, and he would make sure he'd planted his pups within her belly before the night was done. Tonight, she was his. Only his.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"