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he moved closer and closer after a while of staring, making a dip in the side of your bed as he sat down next to to you. he lifted his veiny hand above your thigh, heat radiating to his hand before he even touched you. you flinched, eyebrows knitting together when his hands slid up your legs and his pinky slightly pressed against your hole. dex thought it was so cute how you reacted to his every touch, his special girl. he was getting harder by the second and impatient. jaw clenching as he slid the tip of his middle finger into your cunt, soaked already, “all wet for dad huh? such a needy girl..” he chuckles plunging his finger deeper warning a whine from you, “mmm” you express in discomfort. “shh shh..” he adds two other fingers and you start fussing around, raising your ass in the air to turn to a more comfortable position on your back and your step dad turns his head to the side, getting a better peak at your pussy. “aw, jesus baby..”

when his fingers slip out of you he gets on the bed completely, and being careful to raise your legs upon his shoulders to take of your shorts. throwing them somewhere in your room.. dex spreads your legs apart and sighs when he sees how sloppy your hole is, convinced it’s because your waiting for him. you breath a sigh when you feel breeze dance across across you, hands just tangled up in your sheets. “my pretty girl.” dex would whisper looking at you, all ready for him. pulling his sweatpants down to take out his hardened dick, already dripping with pre cum in anticipation.

he taps the tip to your entrance and groans quietly, being careful to keep the noise down not wanting to draw attention to the room in the middle of the night. he presses the head of his dick into your hole and you scrunch your face up and your legs squeeze against his waist from the stretch. as your step dad pushes deeper you start to moan, whimpering in confusion. you wake up hazy only seeing dex above you and a pleasurable sensation in between your legs, connecting the two of you. “mn dex wha-what are you doing?” you say sleepily, rubbing your eyes you feel him plunge even deeper and now he’s panting.

“s’just dad sweetheart, it’s okay.” he coos, taking a hand off your thigh to caress your jaw. “dad”, the slight correction doesn’t even register in your mind, you just fix your vocabulary for him.

“but we c-can’t do this together da-“ you can’t even protest before dex covers your mouth and gets up in your face. “that’s not true sweetheart.” he says shaking his head, “it’s dads job to make you feel good, I want to make you feel good baby.. you’ll stay quiet for me right?” you don’t know what to say or even do, all you know is how good it feels to get stretched by dex. “nod if you understand.”

you don’t know why you do, this is wrong. but you nod with your pleading eyes. “that’s my good girl.” and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty for earning his approval. dex takes his hand away and you gasp as he thrust into your cunt so hastily, he reaches so deep in your tummy that you can barely keep quiet. “oh no you gotta keep your pretty voice down if you want dad to keep fucking you, gotta keep this a secret between us baby.”

He wouldn’t admit it, not in a million years. But the cold was beginning to get to Valerius as well. Discomfort was something he did not find himself partnering with often. He had spent the better half of his life surrounded by it like sewage to a rancid rat. And that was to say, Valerius did not take kindly to things that interrupted his calamity. He was a man of many powers, many strengths, many enemies and worshippers alike. But he was not a man who could force mother nature to bend to his will. Instead he’d sulk next to the fire, his lamb at his side until the winter resided and crawled back into its cave.

“It’s been one hundred and six days since you got me.” Valerius stared at her blankly as she rose up all her fingers and mouthed numbers quietly. “So it should be the… uhm… the 32nd day of Winter’s Quarter.”

32nd day of Winter’s Quarter…

Ah, he remembered, just in time for another impatient pound of flesh against wood to startle Alyse half into her lord’s lap. She was like a chipmunk that would scurry up the nearest tree at the whistle of the wind.

The elf flicked his hand, much like he was swatting away a fly, his eyes never straying from the crackling flames. A click could be heard, solid and firm, followed by the trample of boots.

“What took you so long? Were you going to let me freeze out there?”

The voice was unfamiliar, harsh like an elf’s but not as low as Valerius’s. Alyse didn’t like it. Not from the very first sound that came out. Just as Valerius wasn’t fond of the cold, the lamb was not fond of things she was not used to. Which settled her world down onto the pin of a needle. Valerius was all she knew. All she needed to know. There was no need for others, no friends or family. What family did a lamb need anyway? None but her shepherd.

And this man? This elf? This stranger?

Did not look like a shepherd of any sort.

Alyse’s frame of reference was Valerius, so she could not help but compare the two when the snow-covered elf stomped his way into the sitting area. He had a leather cap on, soaked and dripping as the warmth melted away the cold. He was shorter, perhaps short enough that if Alyse was a little more brave she wouldn’t have feared him at all. It was almost comedic. Well, he was taller than her, but shorter than the shopkeeper, therefore the shortest elf she’d ever seen.

“I miscounted the days.” The lord drawled out.

Xyrus, the closest thing that Valerius would dare call a friend. He had been one of the rats that blindly swam through the muck and waste all those years ago. To his reward, Valerius had given him an estate, and the privilege to say Valerius would not kill him. Which was more than most other lords, dukes, ladies, or otherwise could say.

“Miscounted the days.” Xyrus repeated, yanking off his heavy coat and letting it fall in a wet splat to the floor. “I didn’t know my lord couldn’t so much as keep track of his days.”

Then the elf with the short stature, as he kicked off his boots, noticed the little thing curled at his friend’s side. Valerius pretended not to notice the way Xyrus’s eyes trailed down the length of his pet, or the similar way her eyes staggered like a drowning mouse over his discarded clothing.

It was–

It was downright insane! For someone to storm in here, damp, ruining the floors, and then simply throw their soiled garments around as if– as if this was some sort of brothel! Alyse would never. Never in front of her lord. Never in front of the shopkeeper. Never in front of a stranger. Never in front of anyone!

How his neck was not wrung already from the abysmal amount of disrespect shown in a matter of minutes, Alyse did not understand.

With one more drop of fabric to the ground, Xyrus plopped himself down into the opposing couch. His teeth spread across his face, lips pulled taut, like a snarling honey badger. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Valerius had forgotten about his friend’s visit, after all it had been planned so many days ago. He was sure there was a servant around that was supposed to remind him of this, but he’d deal with them later.

Alyse flinched at the weight of his stare. It was not the glance of curiosity, or even of passing interest, but something that stripped flesh from bone. Her throat went dry. She tucked herself tighter against her master’s side.

Valerius did not stir, simply spoke, his voice iron flat. “Alyse, greet guests when they come through the door. I thought you’d know something so simple.”

Of course– how could she be so stupid?

“Hello, sir.” Alyse rose up onto her feet, settling her hands at the junction between her thighs, lowering her head in a bow. “Forgive me, I hadn’t– I hadn’t meant any disrespect.”

“Do you always tremble like that or am I special?”

He spoke like a cat that had already caught the canary between his fangs, and smirked like it too. His head, in a mocking way, was cocked to the side. Alyse decided right then and there, she did not like him. Not a single bit.

“Why so afraid? I don’t bite.”

Lies fell from his lips, in a brutish way, like the demolition of rock as it was thrown off a cliff.

Any response eluded her, words drying on her tongue, sticking like tar. The only thing she could do was stay still, perfectly and entirely still, hoping the wolf would pass on by her. If not, she’d run, she’d hide. She knew these halls better than him or at least she thought she did. But that would be a last resort since she knew her master would not appreciate such a rash action.

Xyrus’s face pursed as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Does she swallow her tongue often?”

“I wonder the same thing.” Valerius dropped his feet down off the table, boots slamming into the rug. Alyse flinched, both their stares feeling as if they were made of cement, poured over her skin, weighing her down, burning her alive. “Speak, Alyse.”

Not darling, not lamb. Just Alyse.

“Yes, master. I–I don’t know what to say, sir.”

“Aw, is she a simple thing?” Xyrus was eating her, inch by inch, with his eyes, tearing away bits at a time, chewing her up, and then swallowing. “Poor little creature. In fact, what is she? That’s not a faun, is it?”

Dry as a lizard hung out in the middle of summer. “A mutt.”

She flinched. It wasn’t the first time she’d been called that, but it was the first time that it felt like a physical blow.

The man’s brows shot up to his hairline. “A mutt? I never thought you’d slum it with the poor.”

“I find her entertaining at times.”

They took turns staring her down as if she was a slab of fresh cut meat. They checked for quality, scrutinized every imperfection. This was almost worse than being eaten alive. Dreading, knowing it was coming, looking into the hungry eyes of the beasts.

There was more wrong with her than right. She wasn’t a purebred, not a human, not a faun. Something that shouldn’t exist. Something that could be pulled out of the gutters, something that shouldn’t have even had the resources wasted on it. That’s why the shopkeeper lied on her labeling. That’s why no one wanted her.

She was ugly and wrong. Fur in places there shouldn’t be, digits in places that hooves belonged. And that wasn’t all. She couldn’t even do a simple thing like greeting someone right. She hesitated, she was scared, so scared, horrified, trembling. Did she tremble like this all the time? Or just for this stranger? She didn’t know, couldn’t remember. Her brain had been plucked apart and rearranged, puzzle pieces shoved where they didn’t fit, memories of old and new intertwining themselves into a tight unforgiving knot.

The darling once again found herself fighting back tears that she did not want to spend impulsively.

Xyrus drank in her sight, his tongue slowly sliding along his lower lip. “Has your master taught you any tricks yet? Huh? Can you kneel?”

Valerius watched, brow perked. But Alyse didn’t move a muscle.

“Come on, girl. Kneel.” Xyrus’s tone was no longer fun, no longer teasing, it edged on impatience, danger.

Alyse froze. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she stood caught between two wolves. Her body trembled with the instinct to obey, to fold to the ground immediately, but some small, desperate part of her screamed wait. She cast her wide eyes toward Valerius instead, searching his face, searching for anything that might guide her—approval, permission, a sign.

Valerius leaned back in his chair, one long finger resting against his jaw. His lips curved at the corners, but he gave her nothing. Not yet.

Xyrus’s smile soured. “Did you not hear me, little lamb?” He rose from his seat, steps echoing like a drumbeat in the still chamber. “When a man of my station gives you an order, you do not hesitate. You obey.”

His hand shot out, quick and rough, closing around Alyse’s arm. She gasped at the sudden sting, her breath catching as he tugged her forward. “On your knees—”

The rest never left his lips.

Valerius’s hand, fast as a viper, grabbed the back of Alyse’s dress. He pulled back with enough force to break his friend’s grasp and send her stumbling back onto the couch.

How dare he?How fucking dare he?

To touch his property? His pet? His lamb? The audacity, the stupidity. Even a friend should not be that stupid, though that’s not the word Valerius would use to describe this fool sitting before him. Not in this moment. Perhaps never again.

The lights above flickered, candles waning as if someone was about to blow them out. The entire manor let out a groan, stone shifting, walls settling into new positions, the snow around moving out of its way, hurrying to safety.

Valerius’s face was stone cold, but beneath was a roaring anger that clawed against his rib cage and screeched to be let out. His mouth parted, just enough to get air in, just enough to douse out the monster that sought blood.

He did not want to have to clean up the mess, nor act so boldly. What kind of lord would throw away an alliance that had been carved through decades for one simple action? One that did not rule long, one that tossed their power away for the simple comfort of livestock. And that one was not Valerius.

Even though he wanted to rip him to shreds, tear those treacherous fingers off one by one, toss them into the fire, listen to the sizzling crack. No one touched what was his. No one.

Again, another breath, cold and calculated rushing down his throat. The candles evened out, the air around the fire became breathable again. “My friend, you’ve traveled far, haven’t you? Would you like to rest?”

Xyrus’s eyes narrowed, daring to challenge. “A little possessive of this one, are we?”

“I’m not one to share, you know that.”

“Oh but she just looks so delectable. I’ve never tasted mutt before.” Valerius let a smile draw across his lips, watching his friend’s every move as he stood from the couch. “How can I persuade you?”

Alyse scrunched herself into a ball, pulling her gown over her legs, arms around her knees, staring horrified. The fear was not lost on either of them. Though, Valerius was not about to let someone else have a sip from his cup. “Perhaps another time. Is it so wrong to want to take the first bite of my meal?”

“Oh, but haven’t you already had so many?”

“Not nearly enough.” An arm snaked around Alyse, jolting her stiff. Valerius thought she’d relax once she realized it was him, but that assumption had been wrong. “You test the boundaries of my hospitality, old friend.”

Xyrus chortled, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and back. “Whatever you say, my lord.”

And with that, and a last glance towards Alyse– hungry, disappointed–, he stepped around the couch and started down the hallway, as if he lived there himself.

There was but a single beat of his heart before Alyse crumbled. She slid down from the couch, to the floor, where pets belonged, where she belonged. Her chest heaved as if her lungs no longer remembered how to breathe without permission.

Don’t apologize unless instructed. Don’t apologize unless instructed. Don’t apologize–

“Sorry– so sorry– I’m sorry.” Her fingers dug into the fabric of his trousers, her head dropping down until she was bowing against his knee. “Master– I’m sorry. I’m sorry– I’m sorry-”

“You’re sorry.” Valerius repeated, reaching to perk her chin back up. He smudged a single tear away from her eye, just to wipe it along her chin. “If I wanted you crying at my feet, darling, I assure you I have many ways to make it happen.”

Her lips trembled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll do better—”

“Better?” Valerius chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. He leaned closer, his shadow spilling over her. “And what would that look like, hm? Dropping to your knees the second any man commands it? Offering yourself like a little gift without even glancing at me first?”

“No–no, no, sir– No, master.” Alyse’s stomach twisted, shame rising up from the acid so thick that it nearly made her choke. “I don’t– I don’t– Master I can’t– Oh god–”

Truly a lamb, not able to control her own tongue, not able to get even a sentence out, just sitting there and bawling at his feet. He allowed her the respite for a second longer then regained her attention with a stern press of his nails against her delicate flesh. “Whose voice do you obey, Alyse?”

“Yours– yours, master.”

His expression, already cold as the weather outside, hardened. Not like the wet bite of snow, but the harsh stab of ice. “And who else’s?”

Who else? Alyse sputtered, eyes widened, tears halting. She racked her brain, digging into the files, tearing them out, searching with desperation that was unmatched to anything she’d felt before. Who else commanded her? Who else did she obey?

Sheepishly, with even her ears trembling she whispered. “No… no one else, sir…?”

The flames flickered, crackling, the only sound as Valerius studied his pet’s little face, counting each tear that slid down her cheeks, noticing their puffiness, the red, the snot that similarly dripped onto her upper lip.

Disgustingly pathetic.

And yet, his hold softened, the nail drawing away from her skin. “Smart girl. Now, did I tell you to get on your knees?”

Alyse hadn’t even realized in the moment that she was down on the floor. “No, master.”

“And did I tell you to apologize?”

She messily wiped her eyes and nose with her silk sleeve, paying it no mind. Valerius’s lips twitched, seeing the string of snot pull away, but he did not mention it. “No, master.”

“Then perhaps I am mistaken at the sorry sight that I am looking at now, aren’t I?” He offered her an olive branch, which she stupidly looked at as if it were a piece of poison oak. The lord swallowed, never had he been forced to be so patient with a creature like this. “Perhaps my pet has simply forgotten herself and will remember. Perhaps she should come sit at my side instead of on the floor. Perhaps she should stop apologizing before her master gives her something to apologize for.”

That was enough to jerk out the rock that had gotten stuck and froze the gears in her busy little head. She clambered up onto the couch like a clumsy puppy, back snapping straight, eyes on her lord and savior.

“Darling–” The tears flooded forth at the softness of his voice. Her spine cracked, for just a second, nearly doubling her over before she regained control. “–I know you can behave better than this, so I will try to forget your blatant disobedience and stupidity, how’s that sound?”

“Mmhm…” Words, words. She needed to use words. “Thank– thank you, master. Thank you.”

Merciful, benevolent, perfect.

Everything she had ever wanted but did not deserve.

Valerius gave her a smile, a wicked, awful smile that the lamb was too relieved to read. “You are very welcome. Now, go to your room and change your dress. You’ve ruined it.”

– – – 

Hours passed. Dinner had been brought to her door, but there was no sign of her master nor of Xyrus. Part of her liked it that way—the safety of her room, her very own fire, her books, her comforts. But another part of her was filled with an ever-creeping, bitter dread.

It was a torturous limbo, to have her master leave her actions unaddressed. He had said he would forget, but Alyse was sure that was a lie. Why would her master forget such insubordination? Why had she done it in the first place? Couldn’t she think? Couldn’t she listen? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid lamb.

No one came to her door, even as the sun fell below the mountains of snow. She stayed up far longer than she was meant to, waiting, hoping. But eventually her hope diminished as sleep stared at her with a heavy, unforgiving glare.

Stripping herself down and pulling on a nightgown, Alyse settled into her bed. It was warm in her room, and yet she felt so incredibly cold against the silk blankets and sheets.

It was troublesome, fighting to rest while her mind ran rampant, but eventually she managed—curled up, shivering, whimpering, desperate for any sort of reassurance from her master.

A sound jolted her awake—the unmistakable click of her door, followed by the low groan as it was pushed open. Alyse sat bolt upright, curling the blankets around her, hoping it was her master but knowing it wasn’t.

The fire was too small, casting a shadow across the room, horrifying firelight framing half of his face, gleaming over a mischievous set of teeth. A monster, Alyse realized with horror. A monster far worse than anything her nightmares could have conjured.

The door clicked shut behind him, sealing Alyse inside with the shadow. Xyrus leaned against the frame, head cocked, as if enjoying a private joke at her expense.

“Mm,” he hummed, tongue clicking against his teeth. “Your master is generous, isn’t he? You ruin his silks, his evenings, and yet he keeps you. What does he see in you, little lamb?”

Alyse’s throat constricted. She clutched the blanket tighter around her body, shaking her head mutely, hoping silence would protect her.

Xyrus grinned wider, prowling a step closer, his boots whispering against the rug.

“What, no answer? Has he muzzled you already? Or are you only trained to bleat for him?”

“I–I’m not—I didn’t mean—” Her words collapsed, tumbling out like stones.

“Didn’t mean,” he echoed cruelly, crouching slightly to bring his eyes level with hers, though he was still across the room. “Do you think intent matters? Stupidity doesn’t excuse disobedience. If you were mine—” his voice dropped to a hiss “—you’d be broken already.”

Her breath hitched, tears threatening again. She pressed herself back against the headboard, shaking her head frantically.

Xyrus laughed, sharp and unkind.

“Look at you. Cowering. Pathetic. No wonder he hides you away like some dirty secret.”

“Stop…please, sir…” Alyse whispered, but it only fueled him.

“Stop?” He bared his teeth, stepping closer still, the firelight catching the hunger in his eyes. “Why? This is fun. Watching you squirm. Do you know how loud lambs scream when a wolf steals them from their bed?”

No—no—this couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now. She wouldn’t listen—not to him. Only to her master, her lord, her—

Saviour.

Alyse had never screamed on purpose before, only out of direct fear or pain. Those sounds had been feral, ripped from her throat, torn out, forced. This sound, however, was purposeful. Loud. Shrill. She was horrified, yes, but not because of anything he’d done. Not yet.

It was so like a lamb to cry out for her shepherd to save her.

And there he came, within seconds, appearing like a shadow across the walls, cloak around his shoulders, amber eyes glistening in the flames. The air tensed, much to Alyse’s relief—the familiar flood of his presence, his power. She scurried off the edge of the bed, tucking herself behind him as he stood like iron.

Valerius ground his jaw, forcing the words he wanted to say into dust.

“It seems you’ve overstayed your welcome, Xyrus.”

Xyrus’s smirk slithered back, but his hands lifted in mock surrender. “Just talking.”

Valerius’s gaze didn’t waver. “You mistake me for someone interested in your excuses. I won’t repeat myself.”

The monster in the firelight hesitated—then stepped back, grin lingering like a wound, before slinking past the lord much like a fox caught in the barn.

Shoulders tense, entire body wrought like steel, Valerius did not move, did not breathe. He was thinking—thinking heavily—trying to convince himself not to do something he’d regret. He did not want to destroy an alliance over a lamb. But to think that Xyrus was bold enough to enter her sleeping chambers while he assumed Valerius was incapacitated…

It was enough to make his blood blister.

“Master…?”

Her tiny voice was like the snap of a cord, pulling him back into reality.

No words were said as he guided her back to her bed. She stood, tears anew in her round eyes. She did not want to get into bed—not if it meant he was leaving, not if it meant the monsters could crawl back out.

“Sit.”

Her bottom hit the mattress before her mind even processed the word.

“Did he touch you?”

Her voice was a tiny whisper, soft as a mouse. “No, sir, just—just words.”

Valerius’s thumb brushed the wetness from her cheek, his mouth curving into something cold, dangerous. “Then that is all he will lose.”

He sat on the edge of her bed, gathering her trembling form against his chest, the fury in his body carefully leashed for her sake. “Such a delicate little thing. Do you need your master to make sure nothing happens to you while you sleep?”

Alyse clung to him, relief drowning out fear at last. He smoothed her hair, his voice velvet against her ear.

“Please… stay.”

A command from a servant to her master—how outrageous. But Valerius let it go, delicately petting her curls, feeling her tiny body melt against his. “I will stay, my lamb. Sleep now.”

And she did, finally, and no nightmares dared to bother her when she slept in her lord’s arms.

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