The inn room was comfortable enough for Tarvor, though Shera had seemed more than a little disappointed. They were in a small town, located just south of the burned village they had seen yesterday. Shera was surprised to find out that not all inns were as pleasant and accommodating as the one they had stayed in at Yost. It had cost them three times what the room was worth just to get the shrewd innkeeper to let the pair of them stay there. Even then the bed was little more than a pallet on the floor, with only a lone chair to furnish the room.

All the same Shera lay sprawled on the sad excuse for a bed, fast asleep in the middle of the day. Tarvor was content to let her rest, last night he had felt how tired she was through their bond and it wasn’t unusual for her to take naps anyhow. He sat in the chair nearby, sharpening his spear, thinking calmly about what they would have to do next as the whetstone made steady ringing tones as he ran it along the blade. 

Unfortunately the pair was still mostly acting blindly. They still hadn’t actually managed to see the creature, only what it had left behind. News of the attack had only reached this town sometime in the morning, trailing in long after Tarvor had arrived himself, so nobody here knew anything either. If this wasn’t the very first attack it was close to it. Yet even finding the beast early on it was hard, if not impossible, to plan a trap for an animal when you didn’t even know what it looked like, let alone what it was capable of. 

This has to be what we’re after. Tarvor thought to himself. It’s too damn convenient to just run into something like this. How the hell are we going to fight it though? I’ve never heard of anything like it.

The rasp of stone on metal continued evenly, a steady rhythmic motion as Tarvor cared for his weapon. It was a mindless activity and he stared inwardly and tried to puzzle through the problem as he worked. It seemed to him that they needed some way to track the creature to begin with, for a start. To capture large dangerous game you needed to know how they behaved so you could predict their movement. If you knew nothing about them you were as good as dead in a fight. Bravery and pure martial skill could only take you so far, at some point you needed more. 

He glanced over at the Warrox pelt Shera slept on. She had demanded he lay it out for her even though the inn had its own blankets and linens, she enjoyed the smell of him that clung in the coarse fur, she claimed. He’d killed that beast almost a decade ago when he was far younger and stupider. He’d tried to injure it and then track it down like you would a deer, more than foolish. He hid in a dense copse of vegetation and fired a swift volley of arrows at the beast. He’d expected it to stumble about, lose a bit of blood, and become easier to fight. Instead he’d only made it angry and it crashed through the forest wildly until it found him. 

Tarvor shook his head at the memory. A warrox was no deer and he’d learned as much the hard way. He’d barely lived to talk about it and to be honest even that was down to dumb luck. The giant bear was the size of a house, sporting wickedly curved horns and a long tail that trailed behind it. Twenty feet tall at the shoulder and twice as long, the damnable animal had twisted its leg in a ditch as it chased him. Complete chance had saved him. He was only trying to live at that point, and he couldn’t have outrun it much longer if it hadn’t missed that step. He’d heard it roar as it came crashing down, its massive weight dragging it to the earth, shaking the trees nearby with the force of its landing. Young, foolish, arrogant, he’d turned around to try and finish it off. If it had happened to Tarvor now he likely would have kept running, however back then he thought he was invincible. 

The warrox was already full of arrows and had only three functioning legs and it still managed to give Tarvor more than one scar. Enough to remember it by, to warn him against letting hubris cloud his judgement again. 

The pelt made him a rich man by a farmer’s standard, the furs were exceedingly rare given how hard to kill the animals were. He was wealthy enough to set up comfortably if he had wanted to live in a quiet village. Instead he’d done what he’d always dreamed of, bought everything he could possibly need to live off the land. Spear, bow, the first few spring loaded traps he’d ever owned, all of the finest quality, and a horse to carry it all.  

He came to the woods tender and green, though surely he didn’t see it that way then, and even with all the tools money could buy he’d had a hard enough time making it those first few years. Well now the horse was dead and buried and most of the traps he’d bought had long since rusted to uselessness, but he took good care of his weapons and what was left of the warrox pelt. Just a scrap compared to the size of the animal, it still held up after all these years, a silly memento or a grim reminder. A final ringing tone and Tarvor set the whetstone down. Sunlight streamed in through a dirty window and caught the edge of the spear, it gleamed. 

He had faced beasts alone that other men feared with an entire squad of soldiers at their back, and he had won. This, however, was something different. This beast could be every bit as different from a warrox as the warrox was from a deer. In order to fight it he needed to know it, but how could he know it without fighting it? The puzzle tore at Tarvor, he kept turning it in his mind like some puzzle knot that you’d find in a tavern to entertain bored patrons. Yet no matter how he thought about that knot he couldn’t seem to find an end, no way to unravel it. Deep inside Tarvor felt a knot of unease, a fear of trying to fight Shera’s shadow beast, whatever it was. He’d never let Shera know about that, even if everything else came crashing down around them he had to be strong for her. 

He moved over to the bed and lay down, shoving the cat over to make room. She rolled over once, creating an empty space for Tarvor, only to roll back the second he was lying down, draping herself over him. He saw the cat’s mouth curl into one of her feline smiles. Only half asleep then he figured, and made himself comfortable, letting the cat lay on him. He scratched behind one of her ears and tried to forget about the future, if only for a moment. 

Shera was wide awake. She’d been awake for hours, lying in bed just seemed easier than getting up and facing the world. She stayed still as Tarvor puttered about and while the whetstone had been singing its steely song she, like Tarvor, had been deep in her own thoughts. Yet where Tarvor reflected on the past she could only focus on the future. 

Fear did not come naturally to predators. Fear was the construct of prey. A predator might be wary of another, larger and more dangerous, predator, but it was separate from fear. A cougar might simply avoid a bear and watch it pass, but the cougar did not fear the bear. Shera had not known fear until she had been given the mind of a human. After yesterday she was well versed on the subject of fear, yet she didn’t know how to deal with it. 

What she had seen yesterday was only the beginning. Somewhere deep inside she knew that. In her dreams the shadowy creature had been small and had only grown larger with every passing moment, gobbling up every living thing around it until it consumed her as well. If they could not stop it soon then could it ever be stopped? Would it grow too large to defeat? Questions upon questions plagued her. 

She did not know whether she even wanted answers to the questions that tormented so. Perhaps it was better to simply do what Tarvor and she could do and hope that things would work out. Best to carry on in blissful ignorance and optimism. She kneaded Tarvor’s shirt with her paws, gently tugging at it to settle her nerves, cautious not to accidentally hurt the man beneath the cotton. 

Physical intimacy brought momentary relief, his hand scratching her ear or her lips wrapped around his manhood, any of their shared touches in truth. Sometimes she’d yearn for his touch for no reason other than to help her press back against her uncertain future for just a moment. For now she was content to just be close to him. She settled her paws and lay her ear to his chest, listening to his heart. 

“We should decide what we’re going to do.” Tarvor said, “Sooner rather than later.”

Shera could have hit him, she almost wanted to. Did he have to ruin the moment with thick headed determination, couldn’t she be allowed a single afternoon to forget about it? Not one day to pretend everything was still alright? Her claws extended reflexively. She pulled them back but not before Tarvor flinched slightly. 

It wasn’t only her claws Tarvor felt, though that message was clear enough, he could feel any emotion that flowed through her strongly enough. At the moment she felt like a kettle about to bubble over in his mind. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but it’s for the best really. This isn’t going to solve itself.” His voice was soft and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly despite her claws. 

“You’re right of course,” Shera licked at his neck apologetically. She hadn’t really hurt him, he’d gotten worse during sex frequently enough, but she regretted the loss of control anyhow. “What can we do though? You would know better than I, Tarvor. How do you fight something like this?” 

She felt Tarvor’s unease through the bond, it was unsettling to say the least. She was so used to Tarvor being incredibly sure of himself when it came to hunting and fighting. While he may not have been the most skillful at expressing his emotions when they met, and he was still frequently poor at it, he was always resolute when they hunted together. He never even considered backing down versus The Weasel’s men or any other challenge they’d faced so far. 

“I don’t entirely know,” he answered truthfully. A small cry escaped Shera but he squeezed her tightly, silencing it. “But there are only two ways to find out, as best I can judge. If it was any other predator you could either follow it, observe how it acted, what it ate, and things like that, or, if you couldn’t do that, you could find somebody who already knew and ask them.” He sighed heavily. “We don’t know where this one went and I don’t think anybody has seen anything like this, nobody alive anyhow. If nothing like this has ever happened before we have no choice but to try and find it.”

The lioness struggled in Tarvor’s arms until she was more securely pressed against him, her head laying in the nape of his neck. He held her closely, tight and secure. “We can’t give up. I’ve seen how this ends in my dreams, I think. It won’t stop, ever, until the entire world is destroyed.” She shivered despite the warm embrace of Tarvor. “If I can be sure of one thing it’s that.” 

Tarvor nodded his head in agreement. “So then we’re faced with a choice of two impossible tasks. If we ever find the creature again we would have to study it long enough to find a weakness. Otherwise we try and hunt for any sort of information we can and hope for the best. We don’t even know how the thing left the village yesterday, let alone where to find it, and it could take a lifetime to find a book or sage that knew what it might be.” Tarvor sighed deeply. “I’m afraid no matter what we choose to do we’re again stuck wandering blindly, simply hoping to stumble on what we need to find. Though, to be fair, it’s worked so far.”

Laid out before them the path’s ahead looked bleaker than ever. Yet one of them lead directly to the creature and the other did not. “Which is it then? You should decide, Tarvor.” 

He remained silent. His arms stroked her fur and she held his chest trapped in her paws. When she tilted her head up to look at his face he was gazing down at her pensively. Eventually he spoke, “I think you need to be the one to choose.”

When she only looked at him confused he continued. “You found me when some mysterious force pointed you to me, you decided where to go after Yost which led us to the monster, and you get visions in your dreams. Face it Shera, you’re the magic one. You need to choose where we go.”

At the word magic Shera felt a tingle down her spine. “I don’t know about that. I don’t feel like anything special.” She paused, staring blankly at the wall. She had heard things when they had spent time in taverns, silly words spilled from drunk mouths, but it hadn’t seemed like anybody really believed in it. “Is magic even real?”

Tarvor shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve heard rumors though I didn’t believe them. But what else could you call this Shera?” He pushed on the mental link between them until it stretched, he knew from experience Shera could feel it expand on her end. “Or that your shoulder healed in less than a day?” Even the fur had fully grown in from where Tarvor had shaved it leaving not even a scar as proof anything happened. “Fuck, when we were fighting Weasel’s men I thought I saw the trees shake when you roared. I was convinced it was my imagination but now I can’t be so sure.”

He rubbed the cat’s shoulder to comfort her, she was shaking slightly. “You’re special Shera, and not just to me. If that’s not magic I don’t know what is.”

Shera couldn’t deny it. It had crossed her mind more than once in the past but she would simply shove it aside, at some point she had to face it. There was still so much she didn’t know, about the future, about herself. It terrified her, either way however if Tarvor had decided to leave the decision to her he wasn’t going to change his mind. The man could be stubborn when he had a will to. She weighed the options, neither even seemed possible. Tracking something that could disappear into thin air? Yet she kept coming back to the fact that one choice led them to chase after that which scared her so, and the other didn’t. 

She realized that all she wanted was just a few weeks without having to be afraid all the time. To not turn a corner and worry that they would walk into danger’s open maw. Just a couple weeks, if they didn’t find anything they could change strategies later. Maybe they could visit a library, Tarvor had told her about libraries but she’d never seen one. So many books in the world surely one of them held what they needed.

As she was about to tell Tarvor what she decided a buzzing sound caught her attention. Like a gnat she couldn’t see, endlessly circling her head. Again she started to form her thoughts to Tarvor and the buzzing sound grew to a pitched whine. It irritated her to no end and made it hard to focus. After a moment it had died down and she opened her eyes to see Tarvor looking at her concerned. She pretended nothing happened.  

A momentary slip of the mind, she thought, yet when she tried again to set them on the safer path the buzzing returned. Now grown to an incessant roar, she couldn’t think. She struggled not to whine in pain lest Tarvor worry for her. Through sheer force of will she pushed the words through the bond, fighting the rising tide of phantom sound. “Let’s start by trying to find somebody.” For a moment she thought the buzzing would never abate but when she focused she realized there was nothing there, just her still ringing ears. Somehow the sound leaving hardly made her feel better.

Tarvor nodded and started to talk about possibilities. Libraries, sages, druids, prophecies. Shera wasn’t listening. She nodded from time to time and Tarvor seemed to come up with something resembling a plan. When he mentioned leaving tomorrow, however, that got her attention. She wouldn’t ask him to stay, he’d only turn her down with a sad look in his eyes, but she wished it didn’t have to be so. She closed her eyes and pushed her face into Tarvor’s shirt. One afternoonS was all they had. 

They lay there in silence for hours, one or both dozing off at any given moment. A pair of lovers enjoying each other’s company in the silence before the storm. Tarvor idly stroked Shera’s head and she kneaded his chest. If the innkeeper wondered what they were doing locked away in their room he wasn’t curious enough to come knocking. 

The sun began to set and the sunlight through the filthy window darkened to an auburn hue. Tarvor let his hands trawl across Shera’s body. Rubbing her shoulders and back gently, letting his fingers play through her fur. Her head still rested on his chest, apparently asleep but Tarvor could feel her mind working just outside of his. Far too busy to let relaxation take her fully. 

He moved a hand to a fuzzy ear and rolled it between his fingers. The skin there was thin and pliable and the fur incredibly soft. He knew from experience that she found it quite pleasurable and he could feel a shift through the bond as he caressed it. He brought his other hand to her brow, gently applying pressure to her forehead and lower between her eyes. She licked at him appreciatively and he continued to try and help relax the cat. With every new touch and sensation he could feel her mind settle more until it had quieted completely and she was purring faintly. 

He ran a hand along her cheek and jaw, feeling the vibrations as she hummed. She moved her head to give him better access as he continued to massage her. One hand went back up to her sensitive ears while the other wrapped around her back, seeking any knots in her shoulders. Where he found tension he gently pushed and pulled until he could feel the muscles relax. Shera’s tail flicked back and forth. 

Tarvor had already messaged the parts of her he could reach, her chest, head, and back. He stretched his arm to try and reach a knot on her hind legs but without getting up it was just out of his grasp. Shera noticed his struggles and allowed herself to be moved. Rather than lying with her head on his chest she lay on her back beside him, paws lifted slightly into the air. 

Tarvor rolled onto his side, facing her. He spent some time revisiting her shoulders and chest as he tried to return her to the calm state that he had disrupted by moving her. He felt her muscles slacken in his hands and her mind settle through their bond. Her broad chest vibrated with the force of her purr and she lay her head backwards, neck exposed, enjoying the attention. 

His hands moved further down the cat to her stomach and sides. He rubbed her sensuously, his fingers leaving little trails as they disturbed the delicate fur on her belly. Her hind legs were held slightly in the air, Tarvor moved his hands along each of them in turn. Every muscle on her powerful legs was subjected to the firm relaxing motion of Tarvor’s deft fingers. Where he found weariness he left only pleasant relief. He wrapped her tail in his hands and ran them over its length. 

The lioness lay beside him, her mind had gone completely silent. Were he to stop now she’d sleep well and get some rest. Yet there were areas of Shera that he had not yet caressed, and areas of him that had become quite desperate for attention as he ran his hands across his mate. He may have started aiming only to ease the mind of his companion but he couldn’t help but want just a bit more from her.

He let his hands return to Shera and dragged them through her soft belly fur. Hidden there, barely visible to him without pulling the fur back, were little round nubs. He let his fingers pass over the top of each of them, rubbing them lightly. Shera twitched beneath him. He pinched one between his forefinger and thumb and rolled it, twisting it back and forth. A cute little vocalization escaped Shera’s throat, something lighter than even a roar. She lifted her head from where she had been reclining and her eyes twinkled. 

She lay back down again, content to see where this went, and Tarvor lowered his mouth to her belly. He knew she enjoyed when he gave light attention to this area and he gently touched one of the cougar’s nipples with his tongue. A small tasteless nub to him but Shera purred loudly when she felt it. He suckled gently on her, pulling the pliant skin into his mouth and letting it snap back, she rolled on her back beneath him as he attended her. 

His mouth on her belly Tarvor had his eyes between her hind legs. The raised mound of darkened skin shining lightly, a single bead of Shera’s juices dangling on the edge of her lips. He let his fingers trail from her sensitive belly toward the base of her tail. He circled her entrance with his fingers, teasing her. Letting himself come dangerously close to touching the sensitive skin before moving his fingers away again. He knew she was ready when he saw her open slightly and a delicate trickle of clear liquid dripped into her short fur. 

There was a sound Tarvor loved, the sound a lion, properly teased, made when you first give her what you’ve only hinted at previously. He lowered his lips to hers. The most intimate of lover’s kisses. He was not gentle, it was not light, after minutes of massage and teasing there was no need. He embraced her with his mouth, his tongue strongly probing at her entrance. He felt her quiver in his mouth and she made the sound he so desired. In his mind a loud luxurious moan, in his ears a coarse growl. 

His tongue was greeted by a small amount of Shera’s essence as she leaked into his mouth. Always a pleasant experience for both of them, he explored her vigorously. He pulled her apart and let his tongue dance across the extra delicate button of flesh that rested at the tip of her lips. Shera’s growl became louder and her squirming underneath him more intense. He could drive her wild from this position, his mouth locked onto her supple hole and his tongue massaging her, but he had needs too. 

He waited until he felt her cum again, her entranced now soaked in her own juices, or at least the juices he hadn’t hungrily cleaned out. “Roll over Shera. Let me take you like a real cougar.” She wasted no time. Tarvor stripped his clothes off while Shera turned around and presented herself to him. Low on all fours with her tail held off to one side and her hips raised. Making love was wonderful but when it came to pure animalistic fucking this was his favorite view of Shera. 

He was already throbbing and hard long before he took off his pants. He knelt behind Shera, admiring the view, playing roughly with himself for a moment. She looked over her shoulder and eyed him hungrily, watching him enjoy his own hand. “Do you need help with that? I know an excellent place.” She let her tongue trawl from her mouth for emphasis. 

Tarvor grunted at her and grabbed the base of her tail causing her to raise her hips further. “I’ll be going there later.” He said and Shera trilled in his mind, excited by her mate’s promise. With Tarvor on his knees he lined up nicely with Shera in this position. He ground himself across her pussy, rubbing the underside of his stiff cock against her. She purred and strained to lift her hips into him, pushing back against his body. 

It had been weeks, perhaps months, since he’d had Shera in this position. With so much time spent travelling they hadn’t been able to be intimate as much as either of them would prefer. He felt pent up, hungry for her, tonight he wanted to take everything he could get. He pressed the tip of himself to the puckered entrance at the base of her tail and she shivered. 

“Naughty human.” She taunted, but her tail flagged and she made no move to deny him. She had always been the kinkier one of the two, and made no attempts to hide it. She rocked backwards slightly, pushing the head of his stiff member into her ass of her own accord. She clenched herself on him, uncomfortably tight, and laughed that strange feline laugh of hers when he jerked and tried to pull away. “No, no. Wrong way sweetheart.” When Tarvor stopped struggling and did what she wanted she relaxed herself and let him ease the rest of the way into her. Tarvor laughed as well and squeezed her rump playfully with his hands. 

Tarvor fit comfortably into her. While the cougar’s pussy was always a tight fit, not designed for the girth of a human, her other entrance was more accommodating. Tarvor groaned as he felt his mate’s inner walls constrict and pulse around him. This part of her felt like a furnace and for a time he simply enjoyed being held within her. 

For her part, Shera mewled impatiently and tried to rock against the hunter with mixed success. She moaned in his mind, “No more teasing! You’ve got a long way to go if you want me to cum all over your balls while you’re buried in me.” Her words of encouragement did more to motivate him than her warmth and slick inner walls could. She was ever the talkative one in the heat of the moment, Tarvor rarely remembered to do more than grunt and grope whatever part of the cat he could reach. Sometimes he’d have to remind himself to encourage her the way she did him, though he often felt awkward doing it. 

Ultimately he gave into the demands that she so eloquently requested. His cock, slick with Shera’s own juices, slid easily inside the big cat. His hands gripped her lithe predator hips as he picked up his rhythm. His fingers finding purchase in the loose skin, pulling on her roughly. In response she growled and clamped down on him harder, feral noises spilling from her throat as her pleasure increased.

Shera loved Tarvor. She loved taking him however she could have him, but some part of her animal instincts, something buried deep in her primal memory, exalted at being controlled. Something about feeling a powerful male over the top of her drove her to exciting heights. Part of why she enjoyed this act so much, as Tarvor powerfully thrust repeatedly into her, was how it made her feel used. A toy for him, to be taken and played with in non-natural ways just because he could. She bared her teeth and snarled, her pleasure rising with every invading push. 

Tarvor felt a sudden wetness against his balls, despite her earlier pleas it seemed the cat was closer to her finish than she implied. Her insides held him tightly as his hips met hers with wet slaps. Through his bond he could feel the pleasure coursing through her. Shera’s taunting had disappeared, replaced by only sighs and intimate groans. The sound of his lion enjoying herself drove Tarvor ever nearer to his own peak. 

His hands gripped her haunches roughly and pulled her tightly to him. With a final hard thrust he buried his cock deep in Shera’s ass and lost himself. He clutched her to him as he felt the pressure build up and release in him. His cock pumping her rear full of his sticky essence. She growled and squirmed beneath him and he fought to stay snugly inside her. 

It was a losing battle. He slipped from her as she pulled away from him and turned toward him quickly. The lion took him inside her mouth to catch the last few feeble spurts of his cum. She licked his rapidly softening member and sucked the last remnants off of him then sat back looking satisfied. A thin trail of cum stained the fur on her back, left there by an errant ropey surge when she had forcefully pulled off of him. Tarvor felt more than a little aroused just looking at the way he had marked her as his. 

“You said it would be going there later, I thought you might’ve warned me first so I could catch all of it.” She licked her lips while looking at him pointedly. “I just decided to take matters into my own hands when you didn’t.” She head butted his chest hard, knocking him backwards and forcing him to sit down. Laughing as she did.

Tarvor shook his head at the impatient cougar. “I’m not done yet. Did you think I could go weeks without fucking you and be satisfied so easily?” He reached one hand out, wrapping it around the back of Shera’s neck, while his other fondled his messy prick, attempting to excite himself again. Wordlessly he pulled the cat’s head down toward his crotch, pressing her nose directly against him. 

Playfully she resisted, making him use both hands to try overcome her physically. She only gave a token fight however, and allowed him to guide her mouth to his cock with his hands. He was still soft against her tongue when she licked him but a thick musk still clung to him and the scent of it intoxicated her. Tarvor held her head with his hands, massaging her cheeks and neck, as she eagerly suckled him. Like a kitten at her mother’s teat she worked on him until he once again began to harden. 

Mentally she pleaded, begged him to let her continue. She badly wanted to have him finish fully in her mouth again, she longed for that intimate experience. He allowed her to suck on him, and please him with her tongue for a moment, but a feeling had come over him and a sternness in his voice implored her to let him go and turn around once again. 

He took a moment to admire the sight of her, again towering over the sexy feline as she presented herself to him. A thin line of his cum leaked out of her ass, trailing across the engorged lips of her pussy. Her entrance gaped slightly and quivered as he watched, a glob of her own clear fluid spilling out and mixing with his milky white offering. Together the thick liquid slid down her leg, leaving a path of sticky wet fur in its wake. 

Tarvor placed his hand between her hind legs, resting neatly in the soft fur there, and let it slide upwards slowly. Shera purred and spread her legs apart as it travelled. His fingers softly touched the exposed skin surrounding the lion’s sweet hole. He teased at it lightly, running a finger on either side of it before they met at the scruff of fur between it and Shera’s other more recently used entrance. He placed the hand on her rump and pushed down, once again forcing her into the familiar mating position.

The smell of her wafted up to him, the delicate spice tingling his senses. He could smell it more clearly than he had in the past and it called to him. Dropping to all fours he brought his face to her and breathed deeply. It was an entrancing aroma, sweet and distinctly Shera. He stuck out his tongue and gave a single lick across her, causing Shera to shudder. With the smell of her filling his head he knew there was only one way to satisfy the animal lust he felt.

He knelt behind her, her feline pussy tilted up to him and begging to get fucked. He obliged her. She was so wet and aching with need he slid inside of her with little difficulty for once. As he hilted her he felt her immediately clamp down onto him, a small growl escaping her throat. Full of animal instinct he growled back at her, his vocal cords emulating her as best he could. She craned her neck and looked back at him wide eyed. He must have done a passably good impression. He only winked at her and leaned forward over her back. 

He pushed down on her with his hands, pressing on her like another cougar actually would, and began to pump roughly in her. No warm up, no slow rising rhythm, just a rough pounding. Driving himself deep into her tight tunnel with every push. Shera’s claws came out, digging holes into the blankets and mattress beneath them, and holding her steady against the onslaught. Gentle mewls escaping her throat with each stroke. Not a proud powerful predator now, but a submissive mate being fucked roughly.

Tarvor closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him. He felt feral, primal. Taking his lover as nature intended. No, not quite as nature intended. Not right just yet. He thought, his own animal instincts taking control of him. He used his arms to straddle her, placing one on each side of Shera, and lowered his chest until he was laying his weight on Shera, still roughly plugging away at her. In response she pushed back against him, taking more of his weight onto her large frame, her tail frantically twitching with pleasure. 

The hunter hunched over the cat and rammed himself into her with wild abandon. He barely fit within her and she squirmed underneath him in slight discomfort until she felt him pinch the back of her neck and force her into submission. It took a moment for her to realize that his hands were still on either side of her and he must have been biting her. She was powerless to move when she was pinned so, she could only accept what the more powerful male would give her. Her mind buzzed with sexual euphoria at the feeling. Endless waves of pleasure washed over her as she was taken so, easily overcoming any physical pain from his size. 

Tarvor could barely think. Every part of his mind was full of animal instinct, he barely registered that he had a mouthful of fur and skin in his jaws at all. All he could feel was his mate beneath him and the burning desire to release inside of her. There was no higher function to him, for all intents and purposes Tarvor was, at this moment, a wild animal fulfilling a basic need. 

Shera’s body went into overdrive, she leaked steadily as orgasm after orgasm coursed through her. Everything was perfect, every part of her body was screaming pleasure at her. Tarvor held her neck taught and repeatedly pressed into her. She could feel her tension building to a powerful release. Growls filled the room though if they were hers of Tarvor’s she couldn’t be entirely sure. 

She felt his hips begin to drive home with greater intensity. The speed of him picking up to a fever pitch, for a few seconds, before he thrust deeply within her. Her own body quaked with the force and she could contain herself no longer. Dimly she felt the warmth of him spreading in her, filling her with his potent brew, but her mind was focused on its own blindingly bright finish. Her walls milked him inside her and she could feel every pump as he finished. Each one a gentle pulse of satisfaction. His teeth still gripped her and he pulled hard on her neck, trying to force himself further in. 

The pleasure seemed to last for minutes, hours even, with Tarvor refusing to let her go. A captured female for him to fill. When his teeth left her neck instinct took over and she pulled off his cock and rolled on her back. Squirming in bliss, paws held in the air. 

Tarvor put his hands to his head and tried to regain control of his senses, the overwhelming animal instinct fading. His cock ached, equal parts pain and pleasure. Shera was rolling on the ground before him, something she only did when she was the most satisfied, some sort of animal reflex she said.  He smiled down at her. 

The sun was still high in the sky and the lovers had nothing to do for the rest of the day. No travelling, no pressing business, just each other’s embrace. They held one another for love, lust, and comfort. Tomorrow they may find what they had been looking for, and with it maybe pain and death. They fucked each other to forget.

In this one perfect moment perched on the precipice of unending darkness they fucked each other because it was all they could do. Together, at this precise point in time, they were a completed pair and until tomorrow nothing could possibly change that. They fucked because it was now, and it was all they had. 

***

Shera slept fitfully, and it was more than just the looming fear of the future that bothered her. Shadows hunted her dreams, her nightmares. Visions of the future flashed by ever more quickly, almost faster than she could keep up. Unfortunately, this time she knew exactly what they meant. 

Devoid of subtly or metaphor the cavalcade of images showed thousands of possible endings to their journey. All slightly different, but each telling the same story. The pair go in search of knowledge to aid them against the foe, they fail, and both of them die. Sometimes they don’t die alone, but amongst the burning rubble of towns or cities. Sometimes the entire continent is swept under before the ghastly vision finally ends, only to be replaced by another horrible retelling of a similar story. End upon end she experienced hundreds of deaths, thousands. The visions where she was forced to watch Tarvor die as she stood helpless hurt more than any of the others.

Long before dawn Shera gave up sleeping entirely. Yesterday she had made a decision, a selfish one, and she couldn’t deny now that it had been the wrong choice to make. When faced with the possibility of chasing death now or chasing death later she had chosen just a few more weeks with Tarvor, thinking that a few more weeks couldn’t possibly hurt. Tonight’s nightmares told her the cost of that decision. Somewhere deep inside she had, known as soon as the words left her mouth. The buzzing, the pressure inside her head, a clear sign from whatever guided her. She should have taken them back immediately, one night’s loss of sleep was her punishment. She snuggled closer against Tarvor’s side and he groaned and lay an arm over her.

The light was dim, the moon still hung in the clear night sky, but Shera’s sharp predator eyes could still see Tarvor as he opened his eyes and looked her way in the darkness. He blinked lazily a few times but didn’t immediately return to sleep. For the thousandth time she realized what pretty eyes he had.

“I have to tell you something,” Shera started, unable to bear waiting even until the morning to avert the disasters she had seen, but Tarvor cut her off.

“We have to hunt it down.” He said quietly, a bare whisper. There was no question to what ‘it’ he was referring to. 

“Yes,” was all she could say. The decision made, she felt a physical weight lift of her. She thought she might have imagined it but she could see Tarvor shaking his head as well. “I had a dream…” she whispered but again Tarvor interrupted her.

“I know, me too. Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.” With that he shut his eyes and his breathing evened out. Either once again asleep or just pretending to be to avoid talking about it. 

Shera couldn’t blame him for that if he had seen what she had. Thousands of times, Tarvor’s eyes gazing upward lifeless or blackness consuming her as Tarvor screamed and tried to save her. She didn’t know which ending had been the worst, and if Tarvor had seen it all too... It was too much to bear. She shivered despite the heat. There were too many things happening lately that she couldn’t explain, and yet she felt that they were nowhere near any answers.

She tried to follow Tarvor’s example and shut her eyes but sleep was a long time coming. The pictures that danced through her mind that morning were not fit to talk about. 

***

Three days of travel had put a good distance between the pair and the city, which Tarvor was more than happy about. After the passionate night in the inn, and the terrible dreams that came with it, they had found out that they were relatively close to the sprawling city of Joteph. They had only just arrived there when they caught wind of any number of rumors concerning the burned out villages. Villages, plural. The town that Tarvor and Shera had been to was only one of a number that had been completely destroyed. Each in the same general area. 

Since they had been aiming to find the beast as quickly as possible they hadn’t even spent the night before returning to the road. The attacks seemed to be relatively localized, contained in an area north and west of Joteph, so it seemed reasonable to just start heading in this direction and see what could be found, if anything. 

Tarvor felt like he was back in Yost, wandering near aimlessly and just hoping that they stumbled upon what they were looking for. Or anything that would lead to it, survivors, some scrap of a trail, anything at all. So far wandering without purpose had worked out well enough that way, though he didn’t find very much comfort in that thought. There was too much mysterious coincidence and overt interference in his life of late. 

Shera hadn’t said much since the nightmares that had followed the last time they’d been intimate, which was uncharacteristic of her. It was a gradual thing, she started to chatter with him less, then she only responded to direct questions, eventually she just stopped talking entirely and walked in silence. Tarvor was used to her bubbly personality, and seeing her replaced with an inwardly drawn morose cat was disturbing. He would try to draw her out with jokes or playful mockery, but each attempt fell on deaf ears until he too became quiet and content with his own thoughts. 

It had been two entire days since either of them had spoken. Tarvor would have worried that he had upset her somehow, that this was just some punishment for him, but each night found them cuddled close together to sleep. It wasn’t much contact, considering how lively Shera had made his life since she found him on the mountainside, but Tarvor spent many years completely alone and he was used to the quiet. Nevertheless, he felt best with his arm wrapped around her as they slept. He still yearned for her to come back to him though, yearned for her to cease the silence. At some point he decided to let Shera be the one to talk to him, rather than continue trying to draw her out. Once she sorted her own mind she’d come back, hopefully.

Shortly after leaving the city they’d found another burnt out area of the forest, though thankfully it was just a random area and not another town. There was no path in or out this time, just foot prints, larger than Tarvor would have believed a year ago, and burnt wood. No animals either, or at least no trace of any remains. Even though Tarvor would wager all the coin they had that more than one denizen of the forest had met its end in the scorched bare earth. Shera glanced around sadly and Tarvor had been sure she was going to say something, but she only shook her head and stoically plodded on.

Days passed wordlessly and Tarvor began to worry ever more often about his love. Sleeping next to each other at night, few touches throughout the day, but still conversations, short or otherwise. Every hunt was carried out alone, with either of them catching whatever they could, each meal was cooked and eaten in deafening silence. Not only that but the burned areas were becoming more common. 

Everyday seemed to bring a new patch of scarred earth, some days more than one. Some covered massive swaths of ground in all directions while others were elongated paths carved through the trees. In all of them not a single living thing was left, no animals dead or alive, no plant left unblackened. Tarvor knew that a fire in a forest was a blessing and a curse, often fresh new growth would erupt from the ash. The canopy of leaves torn open and new light filtered to the forest floor. Some plants thrived after fires. Not so here, the ground was cold and dark not even a single frail sprout pushed its way through the soil. Once they come across a patch still burning. Tarvor felt that somehow it seemed to radiate evil instead of heat.

In a way it was good news, they had to be getting closer. If the creature worked like any other it would have a liar, a burrow, a cave, a nest, something that it slept in. Assuming that, and it was a big assumption, then the monster would likely find its food nearby and move further and further out as it burned an area out, literally. Not so different from hunting other predators, Tarvor thought, if you can find a dead deer the lion isn’t far off. The burnt holes in the forest grew closer and closer together. They’re quarry must be close, Or we’re completely wrong and it’s not nearby at all. Tarvor grimaced.

The pair’s feet cracked and crunched the dry earth as they walked across another burning. Tarvor hadn’t yet given up hope that he would see something in the devastation that might help them, and his eyes scanned around. Shera only looked at the ground directly beneath her, she would run into a tree before seeing it were any left standing.  

“We’re almost there.”

It had been so long since Tarvor had heard Shera’s voice it very nearly startled him.  He looked at her but she was still staring downwards, walking placidly a few yards off. He wanted to use the opening in conversation to comfort her, to say anything that would make her feel normal again, but if she had wanted that she would have asked for it. Instead, feeling awkward for avoiding the subject, he said “How can you tell?”

The crack of ashen wood seemed to echo in the unnatural clearing. “I can feel it. Like a humming, or throbbing. Can’t you feel it too?” She glanced at him and their eyes met for the first time in days, only for a sweet moment before the lioness dropped her head again.

Tarvor had been walking randomly, generally in the same direction but with no true aim, and with Shera in a mood he had been the one in the lead. He hadn’t felt anything, yet it seemed he had chosen the right direction nevertheless. He shivered. “No, not a thing.” He considered closing his eyes and really focusing, just to see if he really couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t. He told himself it was because he already knew he did not but if anything he was just afraid to be proven wrong.

The shade of still living trees was a cool comfort as they crossed the line between spoiled ground and that still pure. Tarvor again marveled at how neat the distinction was. One spot completely used up and the other, no more than a foot away, seemingly untouched. It was exceedingly unnatural. 

The lioness seemed content to let the conversation drop, Tarvor attempted to save it. Any talking was better than nothing at all. At least in this case. “Is that why you’ve been quiet lately? Does it hurt? Something like a headache? I know this one plant that I chew on sometimes that seems to dull the pain some, no idea if it works on big cats but it probably can’t hurt to try. It grows in places kinda like this, the leaf is pretty unique, I can keep my eye out. It looks kind of like…” He trailed off, the cat wasn’t listening to him but instead staring straight ahead, hazel eyes intently focused. 

All Tarvor could see was light sifting through the trees up ahead. Another clearing? Probably a natural one, they only just left a burning and they’d never seen two so close together. Meadows in the middle of a forest could be quite pleasant, but with Shera staring so Tarvor had his doubts. 

She ran ahead suddenly, leaping forward in great bounds, but stopped before she left the tree cover. It took Tarvor less than a minute to catch up to her. His breath hitched in his chest. In front of him, and spanning out for miles in either direction, was burnt ground. Burnt so badly it was nearly a solid plane of glossy black glass. Jagged rough terrain, but flat enough that Tarvor could only marvel at how vast the expanse was. He could see the other side, but faintly, it was almost behind the horizon.

Shera only said two words. “It stopped.”

In the center of the black glass meadow stood a mountain. Not as large as the one Shera climbed to find Tarvor those months ago, but as jet black and perilous as the ground surrounding it. A spiky dagger attempting to stab the sky. Tarvor grimaced and Shera growled openly. Near the peak a dark shape loomed. This would start and end on the side of a mountain.
