Monsters and Maidens (187 to 191)

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[187] [Mark]

The house was, in a way, a prison.

Mark had quickly come to start thinking it as such, at the very least.

It was a nice place, all things considered. The amenities were mostly comparable to the two taverns they’d managed to rent a room at, perhaps a little better since it had its own wash-room rather than it being the bedrooms. The kitchen and basement were fully stocked, and the place had all the signs of having been kept in good condition.

And for all that was worth, none of them could leave.

The city of Aubria, if one could call it that and not an over-sized town, was still looking for them. It wasn’t an active manhunt. The disturbance they’d caused had not merited such, but just about everyone knew to look out for their faces by now. In any other place, such a thing would not have been possible, but Aubria in particular was tricky to deal with due to the noble in charge of the place. The viscountess owned a particularly annoying maiden, one with the power to indiscriminately spread snippets of information to anyone within her range.

And the psychic had been quite dutiful in spreading the faces of Mark, Shery, and Noah to everyone within Aubria. If any of them stepped outside, they could quite immediately be seen and reported. Brye had been the only one that’d gone unrecognized thanks to her usage of illusions.

The fact that the ones that had helped them enter the city were also the ones keeping a close tab on them was not helping. Now they were stuck there with nowhere to go until the “Boss” in charge passed a ruling regarding what was to be done with Mark.

But what was gnawing at Mark was how things had so abruptly changed.

He’d been given a single room for himself to use, and neither Shery nor Brye set foot inside. They both kept to themselves, the most Mark would get out of either were teasing comments from the fox in regard to Noah and little else. Whether it was because they were as tense as he was or something else, he didn’t know.

Meanwhile, Noah too had begun to show signs of things having changed. She no longer spent her time bound or gagged, but her presence remained near Mark at almost all times. Some of it made sense. Brye and Shery weren’t keen on Noah’s new freedom. So sticking to Mark ensured some measure of protection in a way. But some of that same closeness was not making much sense either. It had started without him really noticing. Small moments of physical contact. At first she’d just seat near enough they’d touch. But as the days started rolling through, the number of excuses used to get close was increasing.

She’d brush her tail against his ankle when passing him in the corridor, and she’d approach and touch his shoulder rather than call him out. The fact that Brye looked mighty amused about this was unnerving.

Mark hadn’t cared, so long as he got Noah to behave, that was that.

Or so he thought.

“What are you doing here?”

Standing at the entrance of his room, drying his hair, Mark looked at Noah as she lay on the bed. She wore a simple light brown piece of linen that covered her whole body. The mousy maiden had been laying on her back, snoring lightly. She’d only stirred awake after he’d entered the room.

“Sleep.” She replied with the barest frown, as if it was the most evident thing in the world.

“On my bed.”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing in my bed?”

“The sheets in the common room are uncomfortable, and the other two aren’t going to sleep.”

“And you couldn’t just go to the room with the three beds.”

“Not unless I wanted to wake up covered in bruises.”

Mark leaned back to stare at the common-room. The fireplace was still on, the fox and the gray skinned maiden were seated on the table, playing cards or something along those lines. He sighed, as he could only acknowledge Noah would be an idiot to share the room with those two. And at the same time, he didn’t want to be the one to share the room with Noah, either.

“I can just kick you out right now.”

“Or you could just kick me out once the two bitches go to sleep.”

He shrugged

Mark moved through the kitchen, grabbing one of the purple berries and putting it on his nightstand before he moved to lie on the bed. “You know how it goes.” He intoned with a warning. He didn’t expect her eyes to linger on the purple fruit with… anticipation? It wasn’t fear or apprehension, but she looked away fast.

Laying on the bed in his briefs, he didn’t bother to attempt falling asleep, just wanting to count the minutes off before he could kick her out. The lull of the resulting silence was only interrupted when he felt Noah’s back pressing against his own. Mark tensed, but nothing else happened.

Until Noah interrupted the silence again.

“I need something.”

“If it’s a piece of cheese, you can go get it yourself.”

She huffed loudly, clearly wanting to throw a retort, but holding her tongue in check. “It’s not that.” She finally declared after a long moment of silence. “Just… turn around.”

Not entirely sure what was going on, he obliged. Noah was lying on her side, not having moved, her back turned to him. And without turning to look at him, she reached out and grabbed his arm, draping it over her shoulder before she curled against his chest. The angle made it hard to see her face, but her ears turned an intense red.

“You’re kidding.” Mark frowned, confused.

“Tigermice crave contact.” She stated in a low voice. “Something about the psychic power needing touch to work properly.”

Mark tensed, eyes wide, moving to yank his arm away. Despite her diminutive size, Noah was faster and stronger. Her hands grabbed his own and locked them in place.

“Don’t.” Her voice was a soft plea.

He was mentally checking his thoughts, his defenses, his mind, measuring how much he’d have to move to throw her off properly.

“If I do anything, bite my ears, or tug my tail or…” Noah whispered the words. “Or…”

Still grasping his hand with an iron hold, she moved his palm from laying on her shoulder down her body. The movement was slow but tense, her hands trembling as she used her free hand to tug her dress upward and placed Mark’s hand against her inner thigh. The tip of his finger felt the presence of something slick just within reach.

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement.

Noah gulped loudly, trembling a bit more than she let go of his hand, hugging herself and pressing against his chest. The gray locks of hair hid her face, but the heat in her large circular ears could be felt against Mark’s face.

His finger twitched, and she responded in turn, quietly twitching.

He should have kicked her out, kicked her off, thrown her out. This was a trap. Someway, somehow, this was a trap. Even if he couldn’t consider how or why. His mind jumped to everything he’d wanted out of Noah, to the maiden that had tried to kill him, whom he owned.

Retrieving his fingers from her thighs, she let out a whimper, but froze as Mark moved his free hand under her, pulling her against his chest, his palm pressing against her lower stomach.

Grabbing the purple berry, he pulled it up to her face.

“Eat.” He whispered into her ear, slowly moving his hand back down her body.

With a silent nod, she bit into the berry. The moan was muffled by her own hands. She took the berry from him, biting again, swallowing, shuddering. Her tail wrapped around his calves as his free hand moved back down her body.

Without any prompting, she opened her thighs to give him easier access.

By the time Brye and Shery finished their game, a hazy-eyed Noah stepped out of the room, dragging herself to the pile of cloths laying in the corner to curl up and collapse, asleep before she could even register the feeling of the rough cushions against her face.

[190] [???]

The room was a quiet corner of the manor. Wood and glass covered the walls. Each window was a cabinet door, books and scrolls littering every available surface on every available wall, save one. The floor was tidy, devoid of either a stray book or so much as a speck of dust.

The man lounged next to the singular window in the room. His muscular frame was barely contained behind a soft white linen shirt, his hair was short and combed meticulously backwards. In his left hand he held a small pen, tiny for the hand that held it. On his right was a notebook, a rather empty one, only the first dozen pages containing information.

With a precise stroke of the pen, the head of the science department underlined the first two words written on the first page of the notebook.

Rick Cross.

The sound that escaped his lips was not a happy one.

Behind him, the shadow of the curtain cast bulged and grew, a hooded figure emerging into the material plane. “Something bothering you?”

“For a man who’d caused so many ripples upon his arrival, he’s been annoyingly cautious.” He answered.

“Hm…” The Vampire leaned closer, approaching the side of the couch, stepping into the beam of sunlight to cast a shadow over his shoulder. “No word from the earl of Balet?”

“Tylen has been uncharacteristically quiet. Normally he would have sent word to the King.” A slight frown as he wrote another note into the notebook.

“Has this offworlder warranted your frustration?”

“He tamed a Tigress on his own, and she shifted into a Sabertooth shortly after.” He contemplated the words for a moment, glancing over his shoulder and meeting the blood-red eyes of the ageless maiden. “But you knew this.”

“That I have.” She reached out to the notebook, her hand being swatted away by the man before she’d snatch it out of his fingers. “But is it worth your personal time?”

“Tylen’s silence has prompted it. After confirmation of Mister Cross’ arrival in Balet, no further news has been shared.” His finger tapped against the card cover of the notebook. “That means something about this offworlder has made Tylen extremely cautious.” Another pause, brows furrowed. “If I am to use Mister Cross, I need more information.”

“Do you have to, though?”

“He is a pure-blooded human, and has already shown potential. The subjugation of White Claw is proof enough. He is a prime option out of the offworlder group.”

“Then, perhaps, I may have something for you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

The man remained calm, even as the Vampire licked his throat.

“You?”

“There was a change of plans on our end.”

“I figured that would be the case. The King deployed the royal knights.”

“I wonder how he found out a Vampire was part of the attack?” Her voice was cold, her fangs scrapping his flesh.

“What makes you think he did?”

“The knights deployed to block all routes south from the capital. My agent and her companion found no safe way to move through undetected.” The pressure increased, her mouth locking against the pulse of his artery. The rhythm was steady and calm, unperturbed. “They are headed eastward.”

He didn’t nod so much as affirm the words. “Planning to trick the knights into thinking they’re going to leave the kingdom towards Coven?”

“It is so much fun talking with you, you catch on quickly.”

“Does this mean they will head to Balet?”

The Vampire traced a finger up to his jaw, pushing his head to lean to the side. “The revised plan would have them avoid such a large city, but…”

“But?”

“But I might change their orders… for a price.”

A sigh. “I cannot promise I’ll be able to put a gap on the net for them to slip through.”

“And yet you’ve not denied me.”

“Your stunt in the collar production facility went too far. You were supposed to only take a maiden.”

“And I did.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a human forcefully turned!” His eyes burned with an angry chill, his heart pumped faster for only a second.

Her tongue tasted his skin, cool, wet and slimy. “Was that why you informed the King how he could block my girl?”

“You haven’t paid from your end yet.” His heartbeat had not changed, slow, in control. “Your stunt would not warrant that loss, not when I can use it to charge you more.”

She pulled away, leaving behind a wet patch on his muscular neck he ignored. She sauntered back into the shadows of the personal library. They seemed to swallow her, reducing her body to a silhouette and two red eyes. “You’re asking to have my agent put herself at risk with no benefit.”

“That would be unwise of me.” His gaze returned to the notebook in his hands. “But she is traveling with someone else who is not a part of your little… clan. A Sabertooth. I take it you’ve made friends with the tribes?”

The eyes widened ever so slightly. “How…?”

Whether he had an answer to her question or not, he gave none. He kept his gaze on the pen, slowly marking the passage of time with quiet taps. Until, finally, the Vampire spoke again.

“Not while he is a guest of the earl. And it cannot delay the operation.”

He flipped the notebook open once more, flipping to an empty page as he began to write. “I do hope to hear news of your half of our deal. Soon.”

Within seconds, he was the only one left in the library, and he could return to the focus of his attention. His time, however, was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He closed the notebook, loud enough the one outside would hear. Three seconds, and the door opened. The maiden wore the standard maid uniform. Carrying a simple envelope, she placed the piece of paper on the small table next to him. A respectful bow followed, and she turned to leave.

The envelope’s color, yellow, betrayed the importance of its contents. But he did not open it, not right away. He already knew what was contained within. Its presence was more of a formality to signify the beginning. The stone that had been thrown, one that would trigger the avalanche that had been building over the past thirty years. The solution to …?

He wanted to savor the moment.

What were the odds? He dared not even try to guess. There was little doubt it would be anything other than an infinitesimal number proximate to zero. It was hard to not believe in some destiny when presented with such a fortunate turn of events. The unwanted guest was removed from his thoughts before he could indulge them.

It did not matter what fate had in store, he would push onward.

Reaching out, he opened the envelope, confirming its contents.

It was little more than a simple written message. The confirmation, an update in status, of a contingency of knights having reached their destination and begun their journey with some very special guests.

The man grinned as he savored the irony.

Earl Tylen Vitchatt, lover of peace and one of the strongest proponents for a peaceful reform of the kingdom’s laws, had just lit the fire that would consume the kingdom.

A grand pyre to save humanity.

[188] [Barry]

The door creaked open to show a single occupant within. Bound gagged, stripped naked, and tied to the wall, Barry felt Pan’s glare against his skin like a physical force. She might have been immobilized, her powers suppressed, but the pale blue eyes glared at him with a deep loathing that made his skin crawl.

She wasn’t all there, however, the maiden clearly was losing her mind. Pan’s eyes were wild at how they lost their focus. There were signs of the maiden Barry had grown to fear and hate, but there was now something else, something that was not in control of itself, or fully aware of everything else, only of its anger.

Barry had been told about the feral state of Valkyries. They were maidens that became highly aggressive, territorial, and entirely unwilling to back down. It was a prospect that would not help them with their goal. They had to get Pan to see that she could at least trust Barry, wouldn’t be like she expected him to be.

“Pan.” Kajou called.

Pan glared quietly.

“I’m not here to argue.” Barry said, moving closer. “I’m here to prove you can trust me.”

The glare turned to him. “I am bound.”

“Exactly.”

Barry made the proclamation while stepping forward, reaching out to the padlock that kept her wrist held firmly against the wall. With a simple click, the padlock opened, and with it, Pan’s hand was liberated. She couldn’t quite move it, but the rest of her arm remained immobile due to the other restraints.

“I need you to listen.” Barry whispered, nodding to himself slightly. “I’m going to set you free, but… but you need to listen until the end.”

Her brows furrowed, but she kept quiet. Her eyes went back to boring holes into him as he moved to start working on the other locks and restraints. He was making sure to move slowly, to give himself time to think and just… talk.

“The world I come from, it… there are no maidens, no ferals, only humans. We are all humans.” He started off, nodding along to himself. “It’s not a perfect place. We’ve had wars over slavery, and some places still use them for cheap labor. Even if they call it other things. And there’s been so much… death over slavery and killing people just because of what they were born as.”

Pan only gave the barest frown at his words, remaining perfectly still as she kept her focus on him.

“It might not compare to how things are here, but they are similar. I grew up in that world. People are people, and, to me, maidens are people too.”

“I can attest to that.” Kajou affirmed. “I can feel his emotions through the bond. It’s… it’s like nothing we’ve ever experienced. It’s as how the elder described it.”

That earned a glare from the Valkyrie, the blond woman tensing against the remaining restraints for a split second. The gesture startled Barry, making him jump back a bit, keeping his distance until Pan relaxed back down.

“I’ve seen some of the things the kingdom does, and heard the stories from the survivors. What the kingdom is doing is wrong.” He nodded slowly, unlocking another padlock. His voice grew in conviction. “Maidens should be free to choose who they’re with. I want to help Coven create collars that help maidens bond with one another. Hell, if this whole feral curse can be fixed, I’d go for that too. If possible, while I help Embla free other maidens, the slavery can’t… it’s wrong.”

One last lock left, the one on Pan’s throat. Barry hesitated as he met her eyes, trying to look into the depths of the blue irises. She was looking back at him, her face a mask of neutrality. Fear gripped at his chest, the tension felt like it would rip him in two.

“I… think this is what you think, too.” He said in a whisper, holding the lock. “Kajou trusts you’ll do the right thing and… so do I.”

With a click, the collar opened, leaving the prisoner entirely unbound.

Barry stepped back, putting his hands behind his back to hide the shaking. His smile was uneasy as Pan looked at him and then at Kajou in mild surprise. She took a step forward, checking her body over, ruffling her wings, slowly rubbing her wrists and throat.

“If… you know a truth spell.” Barry said, drawing her attention. “Cast one on me.”

Pan’s brow furrowed further, opening her mouth to speak and pausing, frowning and shaking her head. A slight grunt followed. “I…”

“Just a truth spell.”

“I can’t…”

Pan frowned, gaze losing its focus for a moment, brows creasing into a glare.

Kajou tensed, moving slightly closer to Barry. “Pan?”

“Kajou?”

The Valkyrie stared at her sister in confusion. “Why…?”

“Pan, I need you to cast a truth spell.”

Kajou spoke softly, raising one hand to reach out to her sister, the other quietly gesturing at Barry to move away. He obliged, taking a step back.

“Just a simple truth spell.”

“Just a truth spell.” Pan nodded, frowning further before closing her eyes and waving her hand a little. Her hands began to glow, but it wavered and flickered half-way through. Slowly, her eyes opened again, turning to focus on Kajou. “You… betrayed me.”

“What?”

“You… you are tricking me, the human? The human.” Her gaze swept across the room, locking on Barry. “He wants to trick me, too.” Her hands began to glow.

“Just cast a truth spell!” Kajou hesitated. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“His Lady is an aberrant. She could use her powers to alter the spell!”

“No, Pan, there’s no one else here!”

“He will not hurt you!”

Pan lunged, wings flapping and pushing her higher. The light in her hands takes a quantitative heat to glow. Blue eyes turned and focused into a murderous determination, her pathway clear. But Kajou moved faster, leaping to intercept. The ceiling wasn’t high enough for Pan to avoid, even with her wings. The two maidens tumbled and fell.

Barry couldn’t follow what happened as they became a heap of limbs and feathers. But it quickly became clear Pan was at a disadvantage, too tired, worn out, starved. While Kajou had had a chance to recover her strength and focus. Pan was pinned down before she had the proper chance to escape.

“The bond is controlling you!”

“Pan, you don’t need to do this!”

“It’s the only way to save you!”

Pan’s whole body began to glow, her skin turning iridescent, and then blindingly hot. Kajou shrieked as she was thrown across the room. The glow sputtered and died, and Pan returned to her feet, panting. “Just… step aside. I’ll… fix this.” Her hands began to glow, aiming her palm at the downed Amazoness.

“STOP!”

Barry stood between them, arms wide. His gaze locked onto Pan’s with a cold, hard stare.

“Siblings shouldn’t fight, not like this.”

Pan hesitated. She looked at him, eyes going wide. A tingle ran down Barry’s spine as the shock only appeared to grow on both their faces. Panic followed as Pan was clearly feeling it, too. The light in her hand flickered, her aim turning in his direction.

From her shadow emerged a figure, tall and lean, glaring.

“No!” Barry screamed in dawning realization.

The canine had reached up to Pan’s neck with her claws. The Valkyrie realized what was going on, turning towards the Hound. Claws met flesh, and the glow from her hands flashed with intensity. Both were sent flying in opposite directions, Barry’s chest exploded in burning pain.

“Orion!”

He dove for the dark skinned maiden, eyes adjusting to the light enough to quickly spot the burn marks all over her torso. The canine cringed and coughed, breathing hard as she struggled to get back up and failed. The wound was deep, dangerous.

A cry tore through the room.

Barry turned to see Kajou kneeling next to her sister.

Pan lay on her back, eyes wide, empty.

Dead.

[189] [Barry]

To Barry’s mind, Kajou’s cry for her sister tore at his soul. A deep rending within his chest, a gaping bleeding wound that was threatening to spill everything out and leave him hollow. It was a battle to turn his gaze away from Pan’s corpse and down to Orion. The Hound was damaged, badly, conscious but struggling. She could live.

The door to the room exploded in a rain of splinters. Embla hadn’t just knocked the door, she’d traversed it as if it hadn’t been there. The gleaming armor rushing inside before anything or anyone could move.

Barry reacted faster than anyone else. His voice came out in a below as he focused his attention entirely on her. “Save Orion!”

It was as if Embla had been physically struck, her momentum arrested within instants. The large war-axe in her hand dropped. Her visored helmet barely acknowledged Kajou and her sister before she took Orion into her arms.

“GUARDS, TO ME!” Her command shook the building to its foundation. Within seconds three guards had entered. “Take Barry with me.”

Her command left no room for rebuttal or complaints. Her steps were swift as she moved out of the room with the dark maiden in her arms. Four more guards were rushing in within the seconds that had taken them to walk out.

“The Amazon does not leave the room.” The command was cold, the growl of an angered beast.

Whatever thoughts he had on the matter were fighting against a tidal wave of sorrow and grief that was not his own. The further away he was dragged from the room, the clearer that distinction was becoming. But it was like a tide that threatened to drag him off. He could barely pay attention to his surroundings, to the growing number of maidens that were following them.

Embla, still carrying Orion, was throwing orders like a machine-gun.

Barry was dropped on a chair inside the apothecary while Embla proceeded further in, putting the Hound onto the old woman’s table, much to her complaints. She grew pale as she stared into the armored visor and began working faster than she’d likely ever had.

Embla did not wait, turning to Barry and bodily lifting him from the chair. “Hey!”

His complaint fell on deaf ears. She pulled him out of the apothecary and all the way into a different room. One with twelve guards standing at attention and waiting for them. The door closed behind the two of them with finality. Barry recognized the room. It was the one with the stool that doubled as a throne, the place where Embla had attacked Pan and Kajou before locking them up.

He was put on the stool.

“What is…”

The slap from her naked hand stung his cheek with a fiery bite.

“Never.” Embla spoke, reaching up to tear her helmet off, throwing it across the room. “Ever.” She removed the second glove. “Do.” Her breastplate complained. Straps tore with a shriek of broken buckles. “That.” Her hand shredded what was not there, her face contorted in rage. “Again.”

The last of her armor was gone, the metal parts in pristine condition, but everything else shredded in Embla’s rush to take it all off. Her hands fell on his shoulders with a death-grip that made his bones groan.

“Am I understood?”

Her eyes were wild.

Barry could only nod.

She pulled him into a hug with one hand, the other ripping her own shirt off. Her skin was flush, hot, her hands were trembling as she pinned him against her own body in a hug that threatened to break him into fine powder.

Too many things happening at once, too many confusing things. “Orion?”

“Will survive.” She spoke into the nook of his neck. “And I will punish you for releasing Pan from her restraints without permission. Later.”

Barry could only grimace. “Are you… alright?”

“No.” she stated flatly.

He had done this, somehow. He trembled, wrapping his arms against her as the emotions from Kajou did not stop. Was Embla suffering something similar? What had happened exactly? It was a swirl of unresolved things that were coming too fast, too quickly, too soon. He couldn’t process it all. He could only tackle one thing at a time. “How… do you feel?”

“Like I just lost my mother.” Her voice was strained in ways he’d never heard before. Her body was shaking slightly. “When you gave the order, it had power, and it was…” She slowly pulled him away from her embrace, looking into his eyes once more. “You must never use this on me. Ever.”

“I… I understand, but it’s… everything is…”

“I can sense it.” Her large palm pressed against his chest. “Like a psychic I cannot defend against. It will take time to learn.”

“Kajou…”

“Fuck her.”

The brusque response startled Barry.

“We are the Court. She is not. You put your life at risk for her and her sister. She is fortunate I do not march there to finish the job.”

“Embla-.”

“No.” She stated, more firmly now. “I do not need to read your mind to know you did something incredibly stupid. She was almost fully feral, you could have died. I am sure you would have if not for Orion.”

“She killed Pan.”

“And I’m sure she would do so a thousand times over, not just for her concern over you but also for the things those two sisters did to her.” Embla let out a slow, shuddering breath, releasing him further.

“I… she didn’t jump in until I… I killed Pan.”

This gave her pause. “Yes.”

He hesitated. “But if… I…” His words stuttered and faltered.

“Your actions resulted in her death.”

“But… you would’ve killed her.”

“Yes.”

“No, I, you…”

Her hand rose, patting his cheek with a firm but soft pat. It didn’t sting, but it felt like every thought in his head had been rattled loose. A well of emotions exploded through him, meeting her eyes and finding them firm.

“Let them out.”

“What?”

“Let them out, as I had.” She replied. “You must allow your emotions to exist. You must be true to yourself.”

“I don’t…” He stumbled back, out of her grasp, slumping onto the stool. “I just… I don’t know what to think, I… I failed? Kajou’s hurting, her grief-.”

“Is her own, not yours.”

“I got Pan killed.” The words repeated themselves, weary, heavy, dull. His eyes widened. “I should… I should feel bad. We bonded, right before-.” He swallowed, his hands began to shake. “I should feel bad.”

Embla, slowly nodded. “Do you?”

“There… there was a bond.”

“It might not have had the chance to fully form before it was cut off. Perhaps it had no depth yet.” She was wary, watching as Barry’s gaze was becoming lost in something only he could see.

“I… Orion almost died.”

“Yes.”

“… because of me.”

“Yes.”

His voice caught in a hiccup. “I… that stings.”

“You care for her.”

“But… I tried to save Pan, she didn’t deserve…”

“Did you care for her?”

“No, she was… I-.”

“You are in shock right now, Barry. Whatever your feelings and thoughts, they will come later.” She remained standing next to him, her hands pulling him closer. “I will stay here. You are safe.”

He found himself leaning against her body.

The room was silent, but he could hear it.

From the other side of the palace, Kajou wept.

[191] [Monica]

Monica lay on the soft bed next to Rick. Monica’s eyes were closed. The night was fresh, her human’s body was warm, her belly was full. Dia was not hugging Rick. Monica had him all to herself. And the annoying hard-hard one Deneva had left. Sleep should be easy.

But Monica could not sleep.

It was strange.

There were few times when Monica couldn’t sleep. Times when there was danger, or when there was hunger, or when there was cold. But this was different. Monica closed her eyes and sleep would not come. Something bothered Monica.

With a sigh, Monica pulled away from Rick, though not before placing one of the big soft things between him and Dia. Carefully, she kept herself quiet. Like she was hunting, except without prey. She knew that if she wasn’t quiet, the other hard-ones would notice, and they’d start bothering her. Or worse, they’d think that her not being with Rick meant they could occupy her place in the bed.

Monica had smelled the interest, she knew she had to be careful.

As she noticed this thought, she stopped.

Why SHOULD she care about her spot being taken? She could hurt them and win and show them their place! This was her spot! No one took it from her?

But what if Rick brought the shiny-hard-ones all at once? What if he had them all take her place at once? The thing inside Monica was similar to what was keeping her from enjoying her sleep.

She turned away from the bed and to the not-there door. She’d seen Dia open and close it, and Rick had said it would break easily. It was hard to open with her large paws, but she knew how to be careful. The air outside the not-den was cool and refreshing, full of all the bad and wrong scents and only one good one. Monica could track the good one, it was a food scent, but that was not her food.

“Eep!”

Monica snapped her head to the sound.

Someone else had been there! And so quiet!

It was not-food-brings-food not-soft one!

She did not have the white and black cloths on her, but she was not naked like Monica either. Not-food-brings-food wore some dark gray cloth, ones very right and very close to her body. Strange cloths Monica had not seen before. Why did she wear strange grey cloth? Why was she quiet near not-there door right out of sight?

“Miss Monica, excuse my-.”

Monica loomed closer, sniffing. Nothing! No sniff, no scent, no sound. Strange! She grabbed not-soft one’s arm and raised it, sniffing more closely. Ah! It was the not-scent juice. Why?

“Food?”

Not-soft one might not have smell, but Monica knew she was afraid. Which was good, because Monica was not in a good mood and soft-one not being afraid of her would make it worse mood.

“Food.” Monica confirmed with a nod, snatching meat. She’d been about to move, but paused, frowned at not-soft one. “You no here.”

“Yes!”

Not-soft one jumped down to the green area with not-really-real plants. Monica didn’t like that she couldn’t hear or sense her so quickly. But at least not-soft had shown proper fear. So many soft ones thought she was weak. So many hard ones had stopped showing fear. Monica didn’t like it, it felt wrong.

Munching on the tasty meat, she bounded over to climb the not-mountain to get a better view. There were strong-hard-ones around, so she moved carefully. If Rick found out, he…

Monica frowned, coming to a stop on a not-rock and perching herself out of sight from the hard-ones. She chewed on the meat, looking off to the not-forest with lights and hard-ones and soft-ones. Too many in such a small place, more many than Monica had ever seen, all in one place. Hard ones always fought when there were so many, Monica had thought hard-hard one Deneva controlled this place, that was why they didn’t fight, because… because?

More things that didn’t make sense.

Someway, somehow, this not-forest was not hard-hard one Deneva’s even though she was the strongest before Monica came. It belonged to the VERY soft one, that Rick treated with fear! FEAR!? Monica had wanted to growl, but there were so many things that didn’t make sense she didn’t understand. She still didn’t understand. But at least she knew Rick, knew he wanted her, needed her. She was strong, and she’d protect Rick from everything, but…

But then he beat her with that not-fight.

He hadn’t done it directly, the shiny-hard ones had been the one to do it. But they’d done so thanks to him!

Monica ripped the meat with a snarl, chewing on it. She’d tried so hard, she could have used the not-fair things, but then so would the shiny-hard ones and then it would not be a game and would be a fight. She knew she could have won. Hunt prey, that was what she was best at! But Rick had…

Were the shiny-hard ones his? No, they didn’t smell like they were his, and his scent was not on them, nor did they smell of wanting to claim him. But the shiny-hard ones moved like…

Like barons. But they weren’t barons… were they?

Monica’s brow creased. They didn’t smell like barons, they had many of the same weird smells, but the smell of baron wasn’t there. The anger, the rotten dizzy fruit, the bad sex, the wrong-hunger smells, none were there. Monica had picked a bit of that scent, from the not-forest, but not from the hard-ones in the not-mountain. And Rick was NOT a baron.

So why did she feel wrong? What was this thing inside her chest that shouldn’t be there?

Rick had challenged her. And won.

Was that it?

Monica almost took the last of the meat and stopped as she looked at it.

Every day food she had not hunted was given to them. The den they slept in had not been chosen by them. Rick and Dia talked and moved with others that were not strong but were being treated as strong. Monica was strong, but more and more she was seeing the others not looking at her as strong. And Rick was happier because of it!

Why!?

Because Rick was the stronger one?

No! She was strongest, she knew she was strongest!

Fuming, Monica kept her growl quiet, she had to remain quiet… why? Because Rick would get angry if he found out she’d been outside? Because she’d made others afraid? They were MEANT to be afraid! How else could she be sure things were safe? That they knew who was strongest? Who not to anger? Who not to dare raise a claw at? How could she protect Rick if everyone thought she was weak!?

But…

Monica flopped back down against the hard surface. Was Rick strong? Why was Rick strong? Why had the shiny-hard ones fought as Rick had… Rick had told the shiny-hard ones how to beat Monica in the game!

Monica’s back straightened, eyes wide.

Shiny-hard ones did not fight for Rick, they fought against Monica!

Rick had been tricked!

That was why the shiny-hard ones thought they were stronger than Monica, because they’d tricked Rick into helping them! They feared Monica less because they thought THEY had won! That she was weaker than hard-hard Deneva who owned but not-owned the not-forest.

There was only one way to fix this.

Monica dug her claws into the not-stone and began making her way up to the cusp of the not-mountain. This time she did not care for being quiet, no, she was loud, as loud as she could. All around her the smell of shock and fear. Many many hard ones had not detected her and now they could. Monica pushed to be louder, to be loud enough anyone in or near the not-mountain would feel the challenge.

The hard-ones above that could fly were startled, scared, some wary and thinking they could fight, but Monica didn’t pay them any mind. She had only one goal. Reaching high enough she could see all the not-mountain in its hard flat ugly surfaces with no trees and no prey and no nice hidey-holes, she inhaled deeply and let out the loudest roar.

Today, the not-mountain would be hers, and she would show them.

She was the strongest.

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