0 comments/ 13741 views/ 2 favorites Anya's Raven Ch. 01 By: JennaVee Her eyes tracked a fragile pink petal as it fluttered to the ground, and her mind allowed a memory from the years of her life that had been fresh with naivete. The innocent splash of pink on the dusty charcoal earth called forth the thousands of other such discarded petals decorating this avenue all those years ago. Back then, those bright, brief expressions of life had been quickly trampled underfoot in the bustle of the slave market, the meager effect of their presence blithely consumed and forgotten with the business of trading bodies. Today, it stood deserted, only the seasonal falling petals to lay beauty over the market's former ugliness. She was nine the first time her father brought her here. They had been allowed to walk the pens early, and she had been startled by the loveliness of the pink strewn walkways, which had contrasted so sharply with the misery and despair of the beings in the pens. Even then, her mind had been sensitive to the minute vibrations projected unconsciously from the emotions of others, and that day she had been stunned by the strength of feeling battering at her child's mind. Her father was looking for someone that day, and she never knew until years later that he had been counting on her to find him. He always acted with purpose, her father, though she wasn't aware of it when he had used her to find Raven. But in hindsight, she remembered his focused attention on her, even as he carried on discourse with the slaver, and her subconscious mind stored away his sudden silence when her own attention had become fixated on the amber eyes that stared so intently from Raven's young face. Raven was beautiful to her, though that wasn't what drew her to him. In fact he frightened her a little with his wildness, his face set in an expression of menace, his eyes sparkling with hatred. But for all that, when she steered toward Raven, she felt a vacuum open up, a corridor through the sea of negative emotions; the closer she moved toward him, the more she felt like a key fitting into a lock. She had moved quickly, closing the distance between them in seconds, and stupidly had reached for him, her fixation erasing any reality other than touching him. Her last memory of that day had been Raven's triumphant smirk as he had grabbed her outstretched arm, and then her head had exploded with chaos and pain. Shaking loose the memories, she brought her thoughts back in order. Anya Har'Boken, only daughter of her House, was a girl from the past. The woman who had emerged from that girl had ties to no one. Anya crushed the lone petal into the ground with her boot heel before she turned and left. ***** Anya navigated through the crowd of the market, sellers squawking their wares at either side of her. She paid them only so much attention as to recognize danger, but otherwise her goal lay ahead of her. When she saw the stall she was looking for, Anya slowed enough to take in her surroundings more precisely. She knew she could not be too careful. After all she had done in the years since she left her House, Anya knew her father hunted for her. So far, she had been successful in evading those who searched. But Syril Har'Boken knew her weaknesses, if so far he had underestimated her strengths, and Anya expected by this time, Raven had already been sent to hunt her as well. It was a curse of fate, whatever caused the attraction to him. She had only the smallest abilities as an empath when compared with her mother, and yet, her mother was never affected by Raven, took little notice of him whatsoever. Anya had learned to avoid Raven, because not to do so always brought the yawning corridor of stillness, and before she knew what she was doing, she was within his reach. She thought maybe it was a game to him. He never again brought the roiling chaos to her mind, perhaps he had been punished for doing so in the slavers pens, but he always took the opportunity to do other things. When they were younger it was innocent, pulling up grass and raining it on her head, putting beetles or lizards in her hands, getting her to walk into the fish ponds while wearing her dinner dresses. Anya's father kept Raven under tight control when it came to his dealings, however anything that Anya got herself into, Syril considered fair game. Raven was too much of a prize to be reprimanded for Anya's misadventures with him. Consequently, as time passed, Raven's games with her began to evolve. Anya never knew Raven's exact age, nor did she think that even he knew it, but she was aware that there were some years between them. When he suddenly sprouted up, his body changing to resemble a man more than a boy, his eyes had begun to look at her differently. Suddenly she found that her hair had been mussed up, hairclips littering the ground around her, or her feet were bare with her leggings rolled up around her knees, and once she had floated back to awareness while Raven just held both her hands in his, looking at her face. Anya remembered snatching her hands back and angrily kicking him in the shins, hearing him laugh as she ran away. She shivered with those memories, those first stolen touches, which she had enjoyed despite her conscious wariness of Raven. She could see how her father was changing Raven, creating the killer he knew Raven could be. Anya would watch sometimes, when Raven was alone, and she could see his eyes shut tight against what he had been doing that day. She had begun hating her father in those days, setting her on the path she had chosen in the years since. In the year before she had left Har'Boken House, Raven's studies had reached their pinnacle, and he was outwardly emotionless whenever she saw him. He was frightening, noticeable when he wanted to be, invisible more often than not. His eyes were always chips of amber, and the intensity that emanated from him drew her now, even from a distance. Anya worked to steer clear of him, because what happened when they came together scared her most of all. Looking back now, she was sure Raven had used his games with her as an outlet, holding to a last vestige of his humanity. Anya had been at the end of sixteen that last year at the House, and she hadn't seen trace of Raven for weeks when she suddenly felt the pull of him. She had moved towards him, though she knew she shouldn't, but he had never been absent from the House for so long, and she couldn't resist the tug to see him. When she caught sight of him, she found that he was waiting for her. Her mind had opened to the force of his attraction, and her eyes had consumed his face, his body, to see if there were any changes in him since he had been to the House last. He waited silently as she walked toward him, his beautiful eyes as unreadable and hard as ever. But perhaps there had been something in her face, because when she was a step away, his expression shifted, his brow furrowing slightly. She had reached of her own accord to smooth his brow, and at the touch of her fingers, the gaping connection between them changed, and heat flooded her mind. Anya gasped at the beauty of his face, tears springing to her eyes at the intensity of his emotions, need, conflict, desire, now visible to her as they had never been before. His eyes burned into hers, before traveling a heated path down her body. Anya had stood still, caught by him just as sure as she had ever been, her heart beating a staccato in her chest. Her nipples tightened under her shirt, and her middle flooded with warmth that spread to the sudden dampness between her legs. She had watched his face, transfixed as Raven raised his hand to her left breast, lightly tracing the shape from the top down to her nipple, which he pinched lightly through her shirt. Her breath had hitched at the small pain of it, a flood of pleasure following in its aftermath, pulsing in her vulva as it rolled back up her body. His palm had opened, tracing circles with her nipple onto the openness of his hand, and when she swayed into him, he had brought up the other hand to pinch both nipples at the same time, hardening them further, and then soothing them both with his open palms. Raven's gaze was fixed on her pebbled nipples, desire etched sharply on his features, while his hands continued their caresses of her breasts, every so often pulling lightly on her nipples, until Anya was sure the pulsing wetness between her legs would drown her. "Please," she had moaned, needing Raven to satisfy the ache he had started in her. "Raven, please..." He had looked at her face then, and his hands had stopped, a curtain of control closing over his face. Confusion clouded Anya's mind, and then she felt him forcibly sever the connection between them, so that all she felt was coldness, where once his presence had blazed through her mind. Anya remembered it had taken her several moments to realize he had shut himself off, leaving her to pull herself out of the depths of desire. Heat had flooded her face as anger surged hotly through her veins. Shame that she would have surrendered all boundaries to him rose just as quickly. "You're despicable!" she had hissed at him, hating him, even as she deplored the feeling of his hands falling away from her body. "I wish you all the unhappiness you deserve!" Raven had stilled at that, and then she had run away towards the gardens, the heat of his gaze burning a hole in her back. She remembered he had never said a word. Anya's Raven Ch. 02 Anya strode to the woman she sought, who sold various charms at one of the smaller stalls towards the west end of the market, its tables shrouded in purple velvet. The edges of the cloths trailed the ground, and carried dust almost a foot along each edge, but otherwise the rest of the stall was impeccably neat. Crystals were laid out in staggered rows, some alone, others strung together in differing combinations. Pouches in a range of colors lay along another length of the stall. "Greetings," the stall owner said, her dark robes swishing as she bent forward in the hint of a bow. "Greetings," Anya replied. She looked at the woman squarely before speaking again. "You are Valdine, of the Sisterhood?" "I am she," the Sister replied. "Have you a matter that concerns the Grove?" Valdine's eyes were tranquil, though her lyrical voice had lowered. The Sisterhood worked towards its own ends, mingling with local populations as individuals, but never overt about their positions as Sisters of the Grove. "I have recently settled a matter for the Grove, and in return, I was given to know that you might have some knowledge of breaking a Kujheel's bond." Valdine paled slightly at Anya's statement, causing the black of her hair and brows to stand out in sharp relief. She studied Anya speculatively, turning after a moment to survey the patrons of the bustling market. "Let me close up. We will need to speak more than casually." "I thank you, Sister," Anya replied, bowing her head in appreciation. When Valdine had finished storing her items, she let down large heavy cloths over the entrances to the stall, securing them to thick wooden posts. She then lit a lamp, and unfolded two chairs from the corner of the stall, motioning Anya to sit. "Male or female?" "Male," Anya answered. "For you? Are you the Kujheel'a'ta?" "Yes." Brow quirking in inquiry, Valdine asked, "Is that all you can tell me?" "He has never bonded me fully, and not even partially for many years." Valdine gaped in disbelief. "Years? You've been accessible to him for years?" "He was acquired by our Household in his youth, and was still there when I left. I haven't had contact with him since then. Nine years now. Does it change the circumstances much?" "He knows you well, then. Well enough to practice his control of the bond at will. That will have made him strong, though the time apart could work in your favor. Then again, it may have garnered something of a hunger in him. Were you intimate with this Kujheel?" Though the years had hardened Anya considerably, heat rose to her face at the question. Perhaps because even the memories of those intimate moments still had the power to quicken her pulse, though she had tried to drown them with other lovers. "We were intimate more than once, but our relationship was never...consummated, so to speak. I left before it got to that point." "Quite remarkable that he just let you go. Quite unusual indeed," Valdine replied, tapping her chin with a thin, graceful finger. "He goes where my father tells him to go. He would only come after me at my father's wishes. For a time, that was not a concern. I believe it to be a concern now." "Would it be such a misfortune to bond, Kujheel'a'ta? There is a reason the Divine created such as you and he." Anya shook her head, though she had let herself on more than one occasion wonder at the life of the bonded after she had learned what Raven was, and what it meant for her. The question that kept nagging at her was, what was her father's scheme in all of this? She had spent the last five years of her independence dismantling what she could of her father's empire, sabotaging businesses and relationships, to the extent that she was sure he would have her killed. She couldn't just submit to his grand plan, if there was one, after she had already decided to ruin him. "I don't think that's an option. If circumstances were different..." Anya trailed off. If circumstance were different, she and Raven would most likely have never crossed paths. "I need to break with him." Valdine sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "It is a complex thing, attempting to sever from a Kujheel. The bond is woven with emotions, as well as the genetics that make Kujheel and Kujeel'a'ta. Are you willing to face the danger of failure?" Anya nodded. She didn't stand a chance against Raven if he was coming to kill her for her father, not when he could wipe away everything from her mind but being with him. And she couldn't bear to think what other plans Syril had for her and Raven, what ways Syril had anticipated using the bond. "I have no alternative. When can we begin?" "Come back tomorrow evening. Do not eat after the morning. I will attempt the severing within you, and I must find a surrogate for your Kujheel." ****** Raven stalked her dreams that night. Her heart stopped to see him, half in fear, because his eyes shone so coldly, but also half rejoicing, for he had meaning to her far beyond what she allowed her conscious mind to acknowledge. Her feet moved towards him, as they always did, but she stopped cold when she heard her father's gleeful laughter. Anya shot Raven a look, but his face remained impassive, giving no hint to his intentions. The laughter continued, and she turned to flee, though she felt the pull of Raven, even in her dreams. She ran just a few steps, and suddenly she was in the Grove, its towering trees providing a canopy for those it sheltered. Anya breathed in the purity of the place, and headed toward the Circle where she had first taken a lover. It was peaceful there, and warm. But when she arrived at the Circle, she found it blackened, as if burned, and a terrible stench arose from the ashes. Raven stood in the center, looking about him solemnly. "What have you done?" Anya cried. "Nothing," Raven answered, his jewel-like eyes rising to meet hers. "It is you who did this." Anya shook her head, stricken. She backed away from him, despairing of the scene before her, despairing of Raven's presence in the midst of it. "Be wary of turning the hand of destiny, An," Raven said, as he began walking toward her. "You cannot be rid of me." "No!" she protested. Anya turned again, but he was in front of her before she could run. His arms closed about her in a circle of steel. He stood nearly a foot taller than her, and the heat of his body mesmerized her, spread liquid heat through her core. It's a dream, she told herself, just a dream. "Give yourself to me," Raven commanded softly. His hands slid up her back to tangle themselves in her hair, her body quivering in response. "You've never given yourself to me." He felt so good, his skin hot through her clothes. He was broader than she remembered, a full man in comparison to the youth that lived on in her memories. Raven pulled her closer, and the burning press of his erection caused her loins to tighten in aching response. Hands still in her hair, Raven tugged her head back. His eyes roamed her face and neck, lids heavy with desire. Trailing one of his hands back down her back, he lowered his head, covering her mouth with his, nudging the seam in her lips with his tongue. Anya's mouth parted on a moan, her lids drooping closed, and their tongues clashed as their lips pressed harder together. Her arms came up under Raven's and around him, fingers exploring the rigid muscles of his shoulders and back. She could feel them contracting under her touch, and suddenly there were no clothes between them. Her eyes flew open, but drifted closed again when Raven ground his burning length to her body, groaning her name into her mouth. The scorching press of skin caused a rush of wetness to her pussy. When he released her lips, they were on the ground, soft now with new shoots of grass. Raven leaned above her, drinking in the sight of her breasts, flushed with heat and heaving with her breath. His head dipped to take a puckered nipple gently between his teeth, his tongue flicking its tip as he applied the smallest pressure to his bite. Anya's hips rose up instinctively to his, her hands buried in Raven's dark hair. He squeezed her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it around and pulling up on it gently, the pleasure so intense she could think of nothing but Raven. When his hand traveled over her abdomen and continued to the wet curls below, her legs parted wide without hesitation. "Raven," she moaned, as his fingers slid over her swollen nub. "Oh..." Sliding two fingers deep into her pussy, he thumbed her clit, and she near exploded. He alternated his mouth on each nipple, tonguing the hard tips while his hand slowed at her slick core, biting down with harder pressure while he flicked her clit hard and fast. The rhythm drove her crazy, and she cried out his name, her head tossing back and forth as her back arched, driving her hips harder onto his hand. "Come to me, Raven," Anya begged him softly. "I need you, now." But he didn't hear her, instead increasing the pace of his hands, fingers sliding ceaselessly through her wet cleft, pushing her to the brink of orgasm. "Raven, please!" Anya ground out, hips moving against him of their own accord. Her hands stroked over his shoulders and then tried to pull him up. "I need you to fuck me." "Tsk, tsk," a chilling voice said above her. "Such language from a woman of a noble House." Her eyes flew open in panic to see her father standing above her, his eyes riveted to Raven's mouth at her breast. Raven was oblivious to Syril's presence, and continued his barrage on her senses, his fingers working her pussy furiously now. "No, no!" she cried out, pushing futilely at Raven's shoulders. But she was powerless to move him, her own traitorous body leaden under Raven's ravishment. She was desperate to get away from Syril's leering smugness, and yet she had been too close to orgasm to turn back now. Raven pushed a finger to the pucker of her anus, and Anya went over the edge. A scream tore from her throat as the orgasm rolled over her, and her body convulsed with pleasure to her father's pleased laughter. When her eyes opened, it was to the darkness of her tent. She was free of the dream, awake, yet tremors still racked her sweat sheened body, her nipples hard and aching. A shaking hand reached down to her sex to find it sensitive to the touch, and dripping with her juices. Anya took a shuddering breath. Whatever it took, she was resolved to break Raven's bond. And break her father's scheme. Her eyes closed as tears leaked out, but she didn't sleep for the rest of the night. Anya's Raven Ch. 03 Anya swiped the sweat from her brow, the unusual heat of the spring day lingering into the evening. Her stomach grumbled its displeasure. Though she had not eaten since morning, Anya had felt compelled to exert herself, her body flowing through the Forms in stance after stance, her awareness stilling with each posture. But she couldn't completely erase the disquiet she felt. Her mind shied away from memories of her dream, which had left its resonance even now. What the dream signified, she did not know. Its vividness had not faded with the day, and the years separating her from Raven's presence fell away. Which added to her uneasiness about the night's events. Since she had broken with her House, Anya had moved very carefully, calculating each action to achieve her plans precisely. She had been driven to destroy Syril, removing the taint of Har'Boken House from this world. If it came to it, her life had been forfeit, well spent in exchange for the countless others who had been twisted and hurt by her father's dealings. And yet now, she was acting defensively. She had always known she was tethered to Raven somehow, for his effect on her had been plain. But something in her had thrummed to learn of the rare Kujheel, and the bonding of another, the Kujheel'a'ta. Even as her mind had reeled with the implications, another piece of Anya's mind had settled, as if a long-standing puzzle had finally been resolved. She had become fixated on the possibility of breaking the bond, inquiring discreetly for knowledge from those she had assisted. When she had learned of Valdine, of the woman's own history as a Kujheel'a'ta, she had reacted quickly, seeking the Sister out. Now, Anya wondered at her single-mindedness. Her blood quickened at an unbidden memory, her last of Raven before she had abandoned her bloodlines. She had been a fortnight before her Rites, a Noble custom for daughters passing their eighteenth year. After a day of celebrations, daughters were prepared for their lives as women, schooled in the arts of love by select partners, ensuring their enthusiasm for marriage by initiating the young women into the pleasures of coupling. Anya had been furious to find out her father's maneuverings, selecting Raven as her partner for the Rites. It was unheard of, for a family slave to participate, but then all of Syril's actions with Raven had been unorthodox. And when Syril had informed her of his choice, as was tradition for the father, there had been such a look in his eye, as of old machinations finally come to fruition, it had terrified her. Because she had been learning what miseries Syril could instigate for his own ends, and Anya did not feel protected from those miseries by the virtue of his blood in her veins. She had hated the flush that came to her face when her father had told her, an image of Raven's body unwillingly forming in her thoughts. Syril had noted that as well, and been too pleased with himself. His eyes had roved over her body, and his face had turned ugly, also flushing. Unable to bear his scrutiny, Anya had fled Syril's presence, turmoil pushing her legs faster until she had reached the far edges of the meadows, some two miles from the House. When her limbs had finally stopped, she had dropped down to the ground, chest heaving. She lay on her back, legs sprawled, eyes fixed on the night sky above her. Her breathing had barely slowed when she felt him. Raven. Her eyes drifted closed as a caress whispered over her skin, Raven closing in on her, though he was still some minutes away. Already her mind sensed the stillness that lay in his direction, the easing of the chaos her father had engendered. As her being reached for him, the tension in her body changed, warmth flushing the surface of her skin. Anya opened her eyes, watching for his approach. What use in fighting it, her mind distantly thought. Have this night, without Syril's agenda. When Raven came into view, her breath caught, the fire in his eyes scorching her splayed form. He stood over her, his eyes trailing fire along her legs, her breasts, her face. She could only see half of his face in the moon's light, though his amber eyes caught and reflected the light so that they gleamed down upon her. His face was taut with unchecked desire, and her body pulsed in response with delicious heat. The connection between them blazed to life, fires rushing back and forth with each beat of her blood. "Open your gown," Raven commanded huskily, no question of her obedience. Night birds called softly around them as she studied him. Her hands came up slowly, pushing the buttons through their holes, one by one, from the top. Her wrists grazed her nipples as her hands passed over them, the peaked buds tightening under the caress. Raven's eyes followed her hands, until they came to a stop at the top of her legs, where the last button lay. Of her own accord, Anya drifted her hands back up along the edges of her unbuttoned gown, laying it open as her fingers trailed up her torso. Her breasts stood proudly under his gaze, nipples pearled tightly in the balmy night air. They watched each other silently, each drinking in the other, and Anya felt herself grow wet and swollen with anticipation. "Touch yourself," Raven again commanded. The timber of his voice dropped down a notch, striking a chord within her. Though she hadn't any inclination to do such things for anyone, his command aroused her, and she imagined how he saw her, her dress open brazenly, her hands slowly traveling the surface of her skin. Anya touched lightly around her breasts, circling her nipples before finally succumbing to teasing the hard buds with her fingertips. A moan escaped her lips at the pleasure that streaked through her, further enhanced by Raven's eyes looking down at her, the bond between them licking fire along her skin. At the sound of her pleasure, the intensity of his amber gaze rose, and she heard the pace of his breath increase. One of her hands crept down toward her navel as her legs drew up, knees spread wide. Anya pulled the fabric of her dress up, the silken length sliding over her skin until it pooled over her hips, the wetness of her undergarments visible to Raven's smoldering stare. "Won't you touch me, Raven?" Anya asked. Raven shook his head as he watched her, ever more intently. "Don't you know that I already touch you?" With his words, the pulsing in her pussy surged, aching unbearably, as her nipples hardened further, her fingers squeezing involuntarily, wringing another moan from her throat. His eyes challenged her, though no further command issued from his lips, and her hand drifter further down, brushing lightly over her wet heat. "Show me, An." His voice now was rough, as uncontrolled as she had ever heard it, and a thrill ran through her to affect him so. She lifted her bottom as both hands peeled her panties from her hips, legs drawing up so she could pull the garments from her completely. Now bare to his view, her legs settled back to their open position, the fingers of her left hand coming to rest within the slick folds of her pussy, her right coming back to her nipples. She heard his indrawn breath, and felt his mental touch again as her nipples tightened with unseen pressure. Her fingers slid slowly over her clit, and as pleasure coursed through her, she imagined her fingers rubbing up and down on his cock. Instantly she felt a backlash of ecstasy, and groaned with the intensity. Raven breathed heavily above her, his hand moving slowly on his erection. Her fingers slid over her pussy faster, circling around and around her slippery soft flesh, images of Raven's cock burning through her head. She wanted him, wanted him to come inside her, wanted to take him in her mouth until he shuddered his release. Whether the images came from him or her own mind, she wasn't sure, but they fueled her desire, exhilaration shooting through her as her hips rose and fell, her fingers working on her nubbin of pleasure. Her other hand came down from her breasts, and for the first time ever, she inserted her fingers deep within her pussy. The fullness brought her ever closer to climax, and when she watched Raven's hand, moving in a controlled pace up and down his cock, she felt it thrusting in and out of her, and her world fractured as she came, cries spewing from her mouth. The connection between them crackled with electricity, and she felt Raven's pleasure with her, though he himself had not climaxed. She breathed heavily, shudders racking her body, her mind drifting in bliss. And then, as always, he cut her off, so that coldness seeped into her where once he had filled her mind. Though pleasure still clung to her skin, shame crept over her at her actions. Reality closed in on her awareness, and she sat up abruptly, angry tears filling her eyes as she watched him retreating back into the darkness. Why does he do it? Anya felt sickened to think it was at Syril's prompting, both of them manipulating her this way. The pleasure of her flesh was tempered with the cold wash of betrayal. It was the betrayal that she brought forth now, as her mind again focused on the present. Though, intertwined as always, was the arousal at the thought of him. Raven. Whose being represented a complication of emotions, not the least of which caused the current hardening of her nipples, and the damp swelling of desire between her legs. Huffing out a breath, Anya continued toward Valdine's stall, her troubled thoughts furrowing her brow. For all her sudden uncertainty, she had not decided to change her course. Tonight, she would be the one to sever the connection. Anya's Raven Ch. 04 Anya allowed Valdine to blindfold her before being led from the Sister's stall in the marketplace, and out into the still air of the forest. Night creatures scuttled about, their life noises surrounding her on all sides. Breathing in the scent of the trees, Anya attempted to quiet the flutter in her belly. She was accustomed to the secrecy of the Sisterhood, their worship rarely seen by outsiders, their places of worship seen even less. She respected that secrecy, given the prejudices of some of the populace. What left her uncertain was the unshakeable feeling that participating in this ritual was somehow unnatural. Anya couldn't erase the message of the previous night's dream, no matter the logic behind what she was about to do. The vividness of the dream made her uneasy, lending a reality to its contents that she might otherwise ignore. Yet there were so few occurrences of a Kujheel and his bondmate. Finding someone to consult with was rare, and Anya was unsure of what she was getting into. Valdine had stressed that Anya know little about the unbonding ritual, her mind allowed no time to collate the information and unconsciously interfere with the process of breaking the bond. As a result, Anya was unsure of her fears, perhaps even escalating them, in anticipation of the events ahead. They had walked for less than an hour, Valdine leading, and Anya sure-footed behind her. When they arrived at their destination, Valdine escorted Anya to a padded surface, and guided her down into a seated position. Her blindfold remained in place, obscuring her vision of their surroundings. She heard Valdine rummaging about, and soon a sweet scent cloyed the air. "This, the Breath of Ximona, to open your mind to me," Valdine said softly. Anya was certain she recognized the scent, though she had no recollection of where. Its sweetness lulled her, and she found herself somewhat adrift. Her skin began to tingle as heaviness settled over her thoughts. The sounds around her became nuances of a surreal world, coloring her consciousness with their ebb and flow. She felt Valdine raise up her arms as her tunic was pulled over her head. Fingers manipulated the buttons of the shirt she wore underneath. Within minutes, the cool air of the night touched lightly on her bare torso. "Beautiful," Valdine murmured. "Now your leggings, and then we begin." Anya tensed slightly as she felt hands on her thighs, nudging her pelvis up so her pants could be stripped from her hips. Another set of hands. The surrogate to take Raven's place. Valdine had mentioned him the day before. Calloused fingers trailed lightly in the wake of her leggings, shivers alighting on the surface of her whole body. Her heart thumped a languid beat. Her mind felt yielding, the excitement of her flesh lowering her barriers, and she gave no resistance when her hands were drawn together, and bound to something above her head. The sounds of rustling clothing came at her from behind and in front, and shortly thereafter Anya felt the heat of Valdine's body settle at her rear, though air separated their flesh. Valdine's breath teased lightly at her nape as the Sister closed the distance between them, her bare breasts pressing softly into Anya's back. Anya's breath hitched as fingers tantalized the skin on the outsides of her breasts, tracing a path down her sides, her nerves shivering in bliss. Upon reaching her hips, the hands changed direction, coming up behind her back and massaging their way back up again. Sighing in contentment, Anya leaned back, her head falling against one of her upraised arms. At the top of her back, those questing hands came around again, fingers just a little bit closer to the peaks of her breasts. Anya moaned as luscious fire burned a path to her core. "As the body finds pleasure, so does the mind lay itself open," Valdine said huskily. At her last words, Valdine's tongue snaked out and teased the inside of Anya's ear. Liquid heat raced along Anya's nerve endings, all her senses focused on Valdine's caresses. Thought was suspended as the smoky drug dropped veils over her consciousness. All her awareness centered on the rush of pleasure spreading through her core, dampness heating the juncture of her thighs. Another pass of Valdine's roaming hands, and suddenly the fingertips grazed over her nipples. Anya jutted her breasts forward, trying to increase the pressure, but the hands were already moving, and Anya moaned her protest. Still lightly teasing, they continued down her breasts, over her abdomen, and ventured over the tops of Anya's spread thighs. A groan tore from Anya's throat as Valdine retreated, circling again behind her back, and up towards her shoulders. The next time around, Valdine remained at Anya's breasts. Her fingers teased around and around until she reached the peaks, squeezing the hard tips lightly before moving away again. Anya's hands clenched and unclenched as her body blindly sought Valdine's hands, the restraint inhibiting her movements in sweet frustration. "Imagine him here, lovely," Valdine whispered. "Would you like him to suckle your beautiful breasts?" The thought of Raven just then inched her arousal up even further. Suddenly she could feel his scorching gaze on her breasts, and she moaned again in response. Her pussy contracted, sending spurts of ecstasy through her awareness. "Can you feel his warm mouth drawing your nipples out further?" Valdine lifted the undersides of her breasts up, and suddenly hot wetness closed over one of them. Anya groaned as her chest pushed out further, her legs clamping around the man she could suddenly feel kneeling between them. "Do you want him, little Anya? Do you want him to put his hands in your woman's flesh?" "Yes," Anya breathed. The rough hands of the surrogate started up her knees, while his mouth remained fastened on her breast. She saw Raven's hand, Raven's mouth, Raven's tongue, in her mind, and the images made her wild, her body swaying with abandon. She whimpered when he reached her cunt, his fingers sliding in her wet heat, and she pulled on her bound hands, wanting to touch him, touch Raven. "No, no, sweet," murmured Valdine. "You must be passive. Surrender to him, and free yourself." Anya's head tilted backward, her back arching as she moaned her pleasure into the night air. Her reality had shrunk to this moment. Her only thoughts were of Raven, and the physical man between her legs, stroking her pussy in Raven's place. "Feel your Kujheel, Anya," Valdine coaxed. "Feel him opening the bond to you." At Valdine's words, the surrogate's fingers entered her cunt, and Anya clenched around him as she felt her bond with Raven beginning to solidify. "That's it, lovely. Connect with him, now." The surrogate thrust inside her, his thumb circling her clit, and her hips gyrated against him, another groan surfacing from her lips. The tension grew sharper, yet she was kept on the precipice, the stimulation controlled and precise. Her head tossed back and forth, the climax just out of reach, and Anya instinctively fed her hunger into the bond between her and Raven. Valdine moaned behind her, pressing her breasts into Anya's back. "Take him into your mouth, Anya. Pleasure him." Anya felt him grab her hair, pulling her head into place, and the assertiveness of his actions excited her. She felt the tip of his erection at the entrance to her mouth, and she tongued the head of him before opening further for his entry. His cock filled her mouth, and again she saw Raven, could believe it was Raven finding his pleasure in her mouth. She sucked with reverence, tasting him at long last, her heart soaring as this desire was finally fulfilled. He pumped his cock into her, using her hair as his anchor, and she moaned around him, feeling the bond pulse with satisfaction. Valdine reached around and slid her fingers into Anya's pussy, finger fucking her in time with the surrogate's cock. She ran her other hand up and down Anya's slit, flicking her nub with every thrust into Anya's mouth. "Feel his pleasure, sweet. Let him feel yours," Valdine whispered tightly into her ear. But Anya was beyond Valdine's instructions now, reacting innately to the pulse of the bond. The sexual tension was flowing back and forth, a rising wave that increased with each pass. Her insides curled as ecstasy closed in, and she the cock in her mouth swelled, hardening more as orgasm threatened. She swallowed in anticipation, squeezing the head of the surrogate's cock with her throat, and heard a throaty yell above her as he shuddered in release. The pleasure backlashed from the bond, cracking her like a whip, and Anya shattered, coming hard and mindlessly, hot come filling her mouth. The world was a billion dying stars, fiery explosions filling her mind's eye. Her bound hands bore her body's weight, her frame shuddering for countless moments in complete bliss. ***** When Anya regained awareness, all around her was eerily silent. Her skin was cold now, as she was still unclothed, and her arms remained bound above her head. The blindfold Valdine had insisted on earlier in the evening continued to shield her sight. Stretching her legs down, her toes eventually encountered earth, and she shifted so she could take her weight onto her feet. Rising up, she could reach her face with her hands, and pushed the blindfold off her head. Blinking her eyes, she peered around her, extending her arms so she could unhook her hands from the sturdy branch they had been attached to. She dimly made out Valdine's sprawled form near her, the Sister's naked skin gleaming palely in the moonlight. The form of the surrogate was splayed some feet away. Her hands free, Anya approached Valdine, kneeling down to peer at the Sister's prone body. Shaking her shoulder lightly, Anya called, "Valdine?" Valdine let out a wheeze of pain before she her voice rattled out, "Anya." "What is it?" Anya cried, gently rolling the woman towards her. Anya gasped at the blood streaming out of Valdine's nose, made black by the light of the moon. Her heart in her throat, she stared at the Sister with a stricken expression. "What's happened?" Anya demanded. "If I had known you would be injured, I never would have asked this of you." "If you had known, foolish girl, there would have been no reason to seek me out." Valdine coughed roughly, and a dribble of blood escaped her lips. When she settled, her eyes were weary and resigned. It was a few moments before she spoke again. "Take me to the Grove when I pass from this world, Anya. That, you owe me, I think." "Of course," Anya whispered, tears sliding down her face. The blessing of the Sisterhood fell from her lips. "The Grove shall embrace you, forevermore." "Ahh, Anya. You are innocent, are you not?" Another cough shuddered out of her before she could finish. Anya shook her head in puzzlement, blinking back tears. "I will tell you this, lovely, so you will be clearer in what you seek," said Valdine softly. Hers eyes stared at Anya intently, her expression grave. "Your Raven isn't the Kujheel. You are." Anya's Raven Ch. 05 Raven clamped his jaw hard as he listened to the grating drone of Syril Har'Boken's monologue. The man inspired his fury at the best of times, the need for restitution forming a small, hard knot at the pit of Raven's stomach. But none of this was evident from Raven's carefully blank outward expression. "...she thinks she's running free, her will her guide, but every move she makes is according to my plans. Only a matter of time, now, and we'll rein her in..." The man was an idiot, but that didn't lessen the damage he was capable of. The magnitude of Syril's ambition was frightening to behold. And there wasn't much that frightened Raven these days. Syril Har'Boken spoke of his daughter, of course. The girl, woman, he amended himself, had been a fixation of Syril's of late. She had been more than a middling nuisance when it came to the Har'Boken holdings in South Tract, disrupting the slave trade there with stunning finality. Raven stifled a moment of admiration for the girl. Woman. He hadn't expected her to cut and run when she did those years ago, nor to survive so long outside of her privileged upbringing. An unacknowledged part of him had hoped she would be back. He had successfully kept thoughts of Anya to a minimum, thinking it easier to forget her existence then wonder whether she lived or died. Syril had raged for weeks at her disappearance, but then suddenly his ire had cooled, and his business had carried on as if he had never had a daughter. But these past few months Anya's actions couldn't be ignored, and Syril had drawn Raven's attention back to the girl who had changed the course of his fate. Raven had never understood the link between them, resenting the attraction to one of Syril's blood. He had fought it with every ounce of his strength. But there were times when Anya had been an oasis in a world of bitter ugliness, and he emerged from those times to wonder at her place in his existence. He had assumed the track of her life had passed permanently from his. Perhaps that was naïve, considering. "Did you hear that, slave? It is time to retrieve my misbegotten offspring. Despite her wayward motives, she must take her place in her House." Syril's face had suffused with blood at the force of his conviction. Raven acknowledged Syril's words, if not his purpose. He had his own reckoning to settle with Anya. To follow Syril now would serve Raven's objective without arousing suspicion. He wouldn't allow Syril to taint Anya with his depravity. Though Syril was correct in thinking it was time for Anya to come to terms with her bloodlines. And Raven had no qualms about using Anya for his own ends. The time to vanquish Syril's hold on him had come. Raven only hoped he could come out of it with what remained of his soul intact. ***** Gathering just a few necessary belongings, Raven prepared for the journey north. Collating the information from his network of agents, he had picked up Anya's trail just east of the Mere mountains. His hand shook slightly at the thought of finally going after her. He had woken this morning to a crushing headache, his cock swelled to painful intensity. Images washed through his head, but he hadn't been able to grasp them, and they faded into the ether as quickly as he was aware of them. Only one thing he knew for sure. They had involved Anya. Something had changed last night, and Raven feared what it implied. He could almost feel her, which left him relieved that she was alive. But the part of his mind that had always been aware of Anya felt raw and abraded. Urgency to see her was growing within him. Satisfied he was ready, he slipped from the House. ***** Three weeks of careful tracking and Raven felt her. She was close. The knowledge didn't ease him. Burning thoughts of her had filled his dreams every night, so that he woke each morning tense with need. His body was strung tight, pent-up energy making him jumpy. Though he could push her from his thoughts during his waking hours, she claimed his sleeping mind, keeping him on the knifepoint of control. It was relentless, and it was urgent, leaving his emotions raw, and his groin heavy. The last few days he had felt something more. Disquiet settled over him, as he tried to pinpoint the significance of his dreams. Picking up her trail at the Mere mountains, Raven had followed the evidence of her movements. He noticed she was unusually sloppy in her travel, haphazardly covering her tracks, but then seemingly indifferent to remaining unnoticed. As the gap closed between them, he found it easier to follow her without looking for clues. An internal compass directed him without fail, and as soon as he learned to trust it, he gained on her quickly. Now he stood on the edge of the Grove, and Raven was troubled at the thought of entering. The Grove was a place of harmony and magic. Rumors of mysterious happenings had abounded here for centuries, and the thought of Anya enveloped in the Grove was natural. His own presence in the Grove was another matter. Raven felt the discordance of his life even at the edges of this place. He had killed, and worse. Regardless of the reasons, he felt a certain rejection from the Grove. Steeling himself, Raven entered the cool shelter of the wood. He didn't worry about where he would end up, letting the pull of Anya direct him. Reluctance pushed at the edge of his thoughts. The Grove was resisting his movements through the wood, and a long ignored part of him was saddened by it. But the urge to see Anya was stronger than the persuasion of the Grove, and anticipation raced through him as the distance between them closed. With the anticipation came the familiar feeling of domination he felt whenever he was around her. He neither questioned nor resisted the compulsions when they came over him. Try as he might to fight his attraction to Anya herself, he relished the strange trance that came over them, his will suddenly subduing hers. He had never understood it. But the exhilaration it brought was addictive. His balls ached with all the thoughts of her lately. His cock was swelling right now as he recalled how she had looked the night before she was gone, round breasts lush with pleasure, nipples hard from her teasing fingers, the glistening folds of her sex pulsing wither her arousal... Closing his eyes, Raven attempted for control. The same kind of iron control he had had to enforce to step away from her that night. Back then, it had been too early, Syril's schemes too closely achieved. But now...Gods help him if he would have to step away from her now. He meant to resolve what was between them. He meant to sink into her folds as he had dreamed about for years. He wanted to plunge his prick into her mouth, her cunt, her ass. He needed to feel her coming around him when he did it. Groaning, Raven squeezed his fist together, the short nails of his fingers biting into his palms. After a few more huffing breaths, he felt ready to move on. ***** Anya rested her head against the tall oak in front of her, dizziness washing through her as another spell came on. Sweat beaded her brow, her body reconciling the torn changes to her spirit. Nothing had been the same since the ritual. She didn't know what was real anymore, her progress escorting Valdine's body to the Grove a hazy collection of disjointed images. Sometimes she felt Raven was with her. Other times he felt so distant as to be non-existent, and she realized how naïve she had been to think that he had ever been separate from her at all. Steadying herself as she swayed again, Anya opened her eyes to gaze in front of her. She was sure Raven must be here. His presence was vivid, and she longed for him to be real. She needed to rectify the terrible changes she had wrought in herself. She wondered if Raven had been affected. Anya longed for Raven so badly she thought she was hallucinating when his form appeared out of the trees. Her vision blurred as tears misted her eyes, and she blinked hard to clear them. But he was still there. "Raven?" she croaked. And suddenly he was there beside her, arms gripped around her and tipping her fevered head back. "What have you done, An?" Raven asked. He was beautiful, beautiful, and her heart soared at the same time the gateway opened in her mind. She screamed at the pain of it, her world exploding in fiery concussions, arms scrabbling to grasp futilely at her head. Raven held her upright, repeatedly asking her things, words she could neither understand nor entertain. Anya thought she would burn up, the world spinning faster and faster, pain lancing through her thoughts as her damaged connection to Raven reverberated chaos through her skull. Blackness closed in, and Anya lost consciousness with Raven's arms still around her. Anya's Raven Ch. 06 Voices carried through her head as Anya fought her way to consciousness. Pain slashed through her head, but she felt urgency about something. She just couldn't remember what. Raven, she thought absently. She drifted away from the voices, floating further from the pain in her head, before the sounds came back into sharp focus. "You aren't going to touch her. Enough damage has already been done." The vehemence of the voice brought Anya closer to awareness, and she chanced opening her eyes just a little bit. Shutting them tightly on a groan, the voices faded in and out again as her mind protected itself from the pain. A warm hand cupped the back of her neck as bitter brew was urged passed her lips. Anya's brow wrinkled in distaste, but she swallowed reflexively before turning away. "Come on, Anya. You must drink this." No doubt that time. It was him. Her body shivered with the knowledge. He lifted her head again, and she forced herself to drink, hoping the pain and foul taste didn't cause her to vomit. Allowing her stomach to quiet itself for a few moments, Anya lay back without urging her eyes open again. There was only silence now, and after a time, the pain in her head began to dull. Anya was aware of Raven's presence in the room, but the usual pull of him was gone. She was unreasonably distressed about its absence. "Are you able to talk?" Raven asked her quietly. Her eyes still closed, she responded with a question. "Did Syril send you?" Raven didn't answer for some moments. When he did, she was puzzled by his answer. "Yes. But perhaps not for the purpose you suspect. Regardless, I came for my own reasons." She looked at him now, and was relieved she could open her eyes without incident. Memories of the last weeks were erratic. She couldn't recall at all how he came to be here, nor what had occurred to put her in this bed. Had he attacked her? No. She wouldn't be alive if he had meant to kill her. She studied his face, but could discern nothing from his expression. As usual. Raven, in turn, stared at her, so that they sat in silence, each one gazing upon the other. Anya was surprised how similar her dream visions of him were to the reality. But it was still a shock to her senses to be in his physical proximity. His eyes were as shuttered as ever, the newer lines around them giving a character to the hardness of his face. He sat near her bed, his posture casual and watchful. Though less intense, his presence still dwarfed her own and Anya felt engulfed by him. With steady voice, Anya asked him, "And what are your reasons, Raven?" He didn't answer, just continued to watch her, and when he finally spoke, it was on a different matter. "The Sisters have explained some things to me. What you attempted to do. Despite their...wariness of me, they would like to study us." Anya remained silent, waiting for him to continue. "But I'm more curious about your father. What knows about the Kujheel, and from where. Aren't you?" His eyes were intent, and she couldn't help but nod, though her shock held her mute. This was so far from the encounter she had anticipated, Anya felt afloat in reality. Were they actually conversing? She couldn't trust him, yet. Raven had been the tool of her father for too long. When she remained silent, he spoke again. "There's something between us, Anya. What you've done may have altered it, but I can still feel you." He leaned closer so she could feel his breath on her face, and Anya's heart picked up speed as her body felt the familiar yearning for him. His voice lowered to barely above a whisper. "Can you feel me?" Her face flushed as she felt something stirring inside her. She couldn't break his gaze, and her breath became shallow. Yes, she could feel him. Every fiber of her body was in tune with him, though altered bond or not. Her mind protested the feeling, but her body wanted him, as she had always wanted him, and she was a slave to the euphoria flooding her senses. Raven reached a finger to her face, running a path along her jaw, and Anya shivered at the touch. Just the nearness of him caused heat to flood between her legs, and her nipples perked up in achy response. Had Valdine's death been for this? So she could just give in the next time Raven beckoned? Guilt at the Sister's sacrifice washed through her. Despite that, she found it hard to summon a protest. "It's what he wants," Anya whispered, hoping the thought of Syril would steer her away from this madness. "But is it what you want, An?" Raven whispered back, and then his lips closed over her mouth, inhaling Anya's gasp. She felt as if she was drowning in him, and her sex throbbed as their tongues collided. The dam was suddenly breached, unleashing pent-up desires that had been suppressed for years. She moaned into his mouth as his hands clutched her hair, turning her head to his will. They shared breath, hearts beating in sync, and Anya melted under the onslaught of his lips. Anya had the presence of mind to notice the difference in what they were experiencing. She was aware of her mind opening to Raven, but there was a wall between them now, and she wasn't sure if there was a way, or even if she wanted, to tear it down. Either way, her body glorified in being touched by him. When his hand came down to her breast, she arched up into him. He kneaded her breast and she groaned, her pussy aching and wet. Raven came up suddenly, throwing the blankets aside. One of his knees knelt between her legs, and he grabbed the bottom of her bed gown, roughly pushing it up so that she was bared all the way above her breasts. They were both heaving breaths, and his eyes darkened perceptibly as he stared at her naked form. Her nipples were dark and peaked, burning under his eyes, and the scent of her arousal filled the air around them. Anya's body felt like molten fire, and she ached for Raven to come back to her, but she couldn't move under his stare. Couldn't even speak. And then he was on her, kissing her mouth, her jaw, her neck. He pushed the gown the remainder of the way off her body, lifting her shoulders to tear it from her head. Her eyes shut in bliss as his mouth closed on her breasts, sucking the tender skin around her nipples, and finally closing the hard tips into his mouth. Anya was no longer aware of herself, or any of the reasons she had to protest this. Her mind was swimming in the sensations of Raven's tongue, swirling delicate circles around her nipples before sucking them in hard, drawing pressure to the nerve endings before releasing them again. She felt him probing at the edges of her mind, and they circled each other around the damaged edges of their bond. The barrier between them was a fluid thing, moving back and forth between with every touch. His hand drifted to her cleft, sliding up and down her slit with tantalizing slowness. She pushed her hips into his hands, groans of pleasure escaping her throat. Her hands squeezed rhythmically on his shoulders, moving up and down his arms and back around his neck. Without warning he thrust two fingers deep into her cunt, and she tossed her head aside as she bit her lip on a scream. She heard him groan at the tightness of her pussy, and her hips lifted as she felt his fingers moving. Raven's head moved down her abdomen, nipping her skin in sharp little bites, before soothing her with his tongue. Finally, his mouth stood level with her slit, and he blew softly on it, teasing her with the anticipation, while his fingers continued their slow assault from within her. When his tongue finally touched to her clit, she nearly exploded, moaning his name as he slowly licked all along her folds. Before she knew what he was about, he had withdrawn one of his fingers from her cunt, and was pushing it against the tight bud of her anus. She half raised herself, surprise blanking her features, and Raven thought she had never looked so beautiful as she did now, fully mature curves, skin flushed and heated. "What are you..." But she never finished as her body fell back, succumbing to the working of his mouth on her cunt. He pushed his finger as far as it would go, feeling the clenching of her sphincter around his digit. He was going to have her, but he couldn't risk a child, not until he was certain about Syril's intentions. But they could enjoy each other in every other way. His cock squeezed painfully at the thought of her ass tightening on his shaft the way it was clutching his finger. He eased second finger in when her moans grew more desperate. "Raven," she called throatily, and he gave her clit one last flick of his tongue before rising and quickly shedding his clothing. The taste of her in his mouth was driving his desire to the bursting point, and he plunged his cock into her pussy for the first time ever. Her beautiful eyes widened on her intake of breath, and he kissed her mouth hard as he thrust into her, the heat of her pussy nearly sending him over the edge. She mewled in protest when he withdrew, and then she wriggled in shock when he started pressing the head of his erection into her ass. "What are you doing?" she cried, futilely moving her hips away from his seeking shaft. Raven pinned her with his body, holding both her wrists above her head with one of his large hands. "I can't risk fathering a child on you An. Not if that's what Syril wants. But I'm going to have you. Now." "No!" she gasped. "Not like that!" "Yes Anya." And his other hand held her hip in place as he positioned his cock to the entrance of her ass. Her face was panicked now, and he pushed tentatively at her mind at the same time he pressed into her anus. Raven broke through both at the same time, the bond finally surging to life as the head of his cock entered past the tight muscled ring of her anus. She sucked in a gulp of air, and he flooded the bond with his exaltation, watching as her eyes misted over, her features relaxing into an expression of intense arousal. "Oh," she breathed, and Raven felt the muscles of her rectum relaxing. He slid in further, and groaned at the tight heat gripping his cock. He lifted her leg so her knee hung over his shoulder, and leaned down to capture her mouth again. His tongue thrust into her mouth as he sheathed his cock to the hilt, and they moaned into each other. Raven unleashed everything he was feeling at her, and she reciprocated in kind. He felt the agonizing pleasure of her as he began to thrust into her ass, and at the same time, he felt the pleasure/pain of his cock violating her anus, her confusion at her pleasure, her elation at his pleasure, which in turn fed her own. Reaching between them, he fingered her clit, circling around her nub in time with each steady thrust of his cock. Another groan burst from her throat, and her head turned aside, her brow furrowed as her mind reconciled the euphoric tension of her body. Raven dipped his head and licked the shell of her ear. She strained against him now, reaching higher. She was moaning constantly, and he could barely tolerate the intensity of their linked minds with the incredible feeling of fucking her. He increased the speed of his thrusts, rocking her body as he sank into her ass over and over. The force of his orgasm built in him, tightening his balls, and he grunted with the effort of holding himself back until she climaxed. He accelerated the movement of his fingers, driving her clit back and forth under his touch, plunging into her with his cock. And then she exploded, biting into his shoulder and screaming as she came, her ass clenching him with the pulse of her orgasm. Raven let loose, pummeling into her ass while her body squeezed spasmodically around his driving shaft. The intensity of her pleasure whipped through his body along the bond, pushing him to come with all the forces of nature. He unloaded into her, a hoarse shout emerging from his throat, energy seeming to shoot from every surface of his body. His mind floated with hers in oblivion as their bodies shuddered around and into each other. He heard his name, her voice in his mind, and he could see her there suddenly—not her physical form, but it was her, nonetheless, and holy gods, he could see everything she felt. Not just the rush of ecstasy they had just shared, but the uncertainty, the distrust, fear for the future, and still something else. Something he had seen all those years before, but never acknowledged. She loved him. Loved him helplessly, and feared it. And gods help them both, because he loved her back.