The Raven

The Raven

Eyes black as night glittered with eerie intelligence as they watched the man splitting firewood below. From the perch of a thick branch, the raven tilted its head first one way than the other, carefully studying the human's every move. There was a light April chill in the air, yet he seemed comfortable enough wearing only a simple linen shirt and breeches, and his boots. The next log split with a loud crack. Throat feathers fluffed up, the raven let out a call that echoed through the forest.

Ignoring the bird, Bradan added another log to the chopping block, lifted his maul. The strong muscles of his broad back rippled under his shirt as the blade came down, separated the wood into clean pieces.

Bouncing from foot to foot, the raven answered the splintering sound with another shriek.

Pausing, Bradan wiped his brow with his sleeve, looked up to where the bird was once more staring at him as if it was inspecting, measuring him. Then dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. Although known for their intelligence, the raven was likely just checking if he had any food on him.

When he bent down, reached for the next log, Bradan heard a flapping of wings. Straightening, he noted the bird was gone. An odd sense of relief washed over him. There were plenty of birds in this forest, making their home in the vast wilderness mostly undisturbed by humans. Yet something was different about this one.

The animal had shown up at his cabin every day for the past week - watching, studying, yet never coming too close. One day, he'd caught it sitting on the rail of his porch, staring at him through the window. While the seeds Bradan picked up on his monthly trips to the nearest town hung undisturbed in feeders.

Once more, he had the eerie feeling that the raven might not be after food, after all, but him. Then he blew out a breath, chuckled at his imagination. It might do him some good to spend a few days in the company of humans, he mused. Before he began expecting the bird to start talking. Next time he headed to town, he'd rent a room at the tavern for a night or two, he decided with another shake of his head. Then focused back on his work.

---

Gently, the raven landed on the leaf-strewn forest floor, hopped a few steps forward. Its eyes shone brightly as it attentively scanned its surroundings. Sensing no sign of danger or observers, it shook its blue-black feathers, let out another harsh, grating call.

A moment later, mist rose from the ground, cloaked the bird's shape. It obscured the dark form that rose along with it, growing larger and larger. Then the haze faded, little tendrils drifting through the air until they vanished, leaving no trace behind. In place of the raven an old woman stood, draped in a coat made of countless black feathers.

Her face was leathery and deeply lined with age, her nose too large, her lips too thin. All but a few of her teeth had long ago rotted and fallen out of her mouth. Her long gray hair hung in brittle strands down her back. Only her eyes glittered with a vitality that proved her tremendous power.

Cackling, for it had been a most interesting week, the Dornhar Witch stepped closer to the tall outcropping of rocks covered in moss, vines, and brambles. At the sweep of her gnarled hand, the wall of stone and greenery flickered, then faded, revealing the cave the witch called home.

Her shoulders were stooped as she walked inside, took off her coat, and hung it on a rack next to the entrance. Soundlessly, the illusion of rock and vegetation slid back in place behind her, forming a curtain that hid her from the outside world. It took no more than a small movement of her eyes to have the cave awash in warm light. The fire in the chimney corner blazed, then settled, and candles arranged around the place flickered to life.

Despite her age, her movements were spry and agile as she made her way over to a table laden with jars, bottles, and containers holding ingredients for potions and spells. After a week observing the strong, delectably attractive man at his cabin, she was ready to proceed.

On the way, she passed a large cage, recently empty. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. Soon, it would once more house a vassal who produced the essence that granted her such long life. The Dornhar Witch trembled with pleasurable anticipation. She couldn't wait to introduce the man she'd been watching to his new home.

Reaching the table, she pulled out a bowl, began to gather the ingredients she'd need for the potion. After all these years, she knew every last detail of the ritual by heart. Thanks to an ancient warlock's spell book she'd discovered some hundred-and-forty years ago, she'd learned how to use the seed that brought forth life to prolong her own life indefinitely.

Arousal tingled in her loins as she remembered all the wonderfully sensuous encounters she'd had since her discovery. No one could claim that she wasn't thoroughly enjoying the pleasures that acquiring the seed brought. And while on the outside her body might be aging, on the inside she was every bit as healthy and insatiable as she'd been in her youth.

Glancing at the cage, the Dornhar Witch let out a dry chuckle. True, she needed men's seed to heal her body, to extend her life. But she readily admitted that she also kept men there to sate her every sexual need.

She added some cubeb berries to the bowl, set the jar aside, grabbed another. Her latest pet, a tall, blond man, lean and muscular, had lasted much longer than all the ones before. To her delight, he'd also been well skilled in bringing a woman to pleasure. And his gorgeous face and body had been a joy to behold. But in the end, he, like all the others, had finally succumbed to madness.

It was a regrettable side effect that the potion which fueled a man's arousal to inexorable limits and bound him to her for life also caused him to go insane eventually. Yet there was nothing she could do to change it. So she simply considered it an opportunity to add a little variety to her life.

Yes, her last pet had been potent, sated her well. But she had a feeling that his new man she'd chosen wouldn't disappoint. Thinking of him, of what she'd observed, she carefully adjusted the ingredients to match his character, his attributes, his other traits.

A little dash of Arling root, a little spice of Wirym. They would ensure that his need to mate would be so strong that it would easily overpower any resistance. The spoonful of Moonyar mushrooms would keep his cock hard and throbbing, his balls producing load after load. She added herbs and oils from various plants to make him yearn for her, to bind him to her. Then used her power to ensure the components and combination were just right.

Satisfied the mixture was complete, she used a pestle to grind it into fine dust, mixed in a little water. Then added it to a small cauldron, set it over the fire to boil. Another cackle broke through her dry lips. With his broad, rippling muscles, that ruggedly handsome face, the man she'd been watching for a week now should make a wonderful replacement for the lithe, blond youth.

Another sweep of her hand, and a bowl of stew and a goblet of wine appeared on the small table she used for eating. Knowing the potion would take a while before it was ready, she sat down, picked up a spoon. As she savored a taste, she thought of the man who would soon occupy the empty cage in her cave.

He was magnificently virile. Pure, unadulterated male. He'd likely be rougher, more primal when bedding a woman. So very different from the man she kept before. Still, she found that the thought of having such a rugged man take her, use her to sate his needs was incredibly exciting.

Since looks could be deceiving, she'd used magic to check for any signs that there might be more to him than what met the eye. But, after a week of watching, overserving, and reading his energy, she'd detected no hint of special powers. He seemed to be no more than one could see—a simple human man.

She'd also learned that he lived alone, never entertained any visitors. So she wouldn't have to worry about anyone interrupting while she executed her plan. Since he hadn't made his way to town this past week, he should be running low on supplies. He'd likely be thankful for a loaf of fresh baked bread—a perfect disguise to mix the potion into.

Her approach decided, she rose to check on the brew bubbling over the fire. It was almost finished, its magic strong, she noted. A satisfied smile played around her lips as she set out another bowl, filled it with dough with a flick of her wrist. Then she lifted the small cauldron from the fire, added its ingredients to the bowl.

Rubbing her hands together, she prepared to add a bit of her own magic to the mix, just to be sure. The laugh that rustled in her throat sounded wickedly delighted. She enjoyed the anticipation almost as much as the execution of the ritual. The tingling in her loins was already turning into a throbbing.

It didn't take long before all was finished, the loaf of bread just fresh enough so she could claim she'd baked it this morning. Cackling, the Dornhar Witch added it to a basket along with some apples. Covered them with a thin cloth. It was marvelous to have such powers, she mused. Otherwise she would have had to spend the whole darn day in the kitchen.

With everything completed, she took another minute to gather and focus her powers. Then parted the curtain that hid the cave, and stepped outside.

The raven's call echoed through the forest as it took flight.

---

A short while later, mist rose from the ground behind the shelter of thick vegetation not far from the lone cabin. Once it cleared, the Dornhar Witch held out her arm, and the basket appeared at her side. Examining her gnarled, wrinkled fingers, she knew there was only one thing left to do. She closed her eyes, and the image of the old woman flickered, then vanished in a flash.

Like a snake shedding its skin, the woman who emerged from behind the cover with a basket over her arm was strikingly beautiful. Sleek auburn hair tumbled like a waterfall down her back. Her porcelain skin was smooth and unlined. Laughter danced in her deep blue eyes, and her full, sensuous mouth curved upward with amusement. For the next few hours, even the outside of the Dornhar Witches body would look like it had in its youth.

The rocking chair creaked as Bradan slowly moved it back and forth. From his seat on the porch, he watched the woman approach. She was a rare beauty, he admitted, her body luscious with ample curves. His groin tightened instantly. It had been near three weeks since he'd had a woman on his last trip to town. And there was something utterly sensual about the sway of this one's hips as she walked closer.

Still, he was wary, so he studied her carefully. One didn't often encounter a woman alone in this forest. Far less likely yet one so beautiful. There were no other cabins nearby, no reason at all for her to have ventured near his home, really. Her presence was more than a little suspicious. As she drew near the porch, he rose, walked down the three steps to meet her.

"Hello." The Dornhar Witch sounded a little breathless and excited as she greeted him. But she surmised it would only give her more credibility. "I'm so glad I stumbled across your cabin. Fool that I am, I opted to be adventurous, take a different route home from town today. Thought I would explore a new part of the forest, see what treasures it might yield. And, don't you know it, about an hour later I was lost."

Massive forearms crossed over his burly chest, Bradan slowly nodded. The woman seemed genuine enough. And her story was believable, offered a perfectly reasonable explanation for her presence here. People rarely ventured off the known paths, for it was easy to get lost in this vast forest. Still, he wasn't quite convinced.

"It seems a rather lucky turn of fate that you so happened to stumble upon my cabin."

She had sensed that he was highly intelligent when she'd read his energy these past few days. So his cautious attitude did not come as a surprise. "Well, actually, I started keeping an eye out for so much as the slightest sign of habitation the moment I realized I would not find my way home on my own." She jerked her head up toward the cabin's roof. "The smoke rising from your chimney saved me. The moment I spotted it, I knew there had to be a homestead or at least another person nearby."

When he only nodded once more, still not looking quite convinced, she decided it was time to make use of some feminine charms. Trailing her hand over his arm, she demurely lowered her head, looked up at him with pleading eyes. While she beamed him a smile that was utterly flirtatious. The combination had melted countless men's hearts over the years.

"I'm Illiana, by the way." She didn't hesitate to use the name her mother had given her those many years ago. He would no longer be able to remember it a few days from now. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to let me rest my feet for a while, get a drink of water." All she needed was for him to let down his guard the slightest bit. "And perhaps we can see then if you can point me back in the right direction."

The mention of heading home seemed to have done it. Or, perhaps, it was the female charm. Either way, he unfolded his arms, turned. "I'm Bradan. Come on up, have a seat. I'll get you some water."

His voice was deep and gravelly, and sent delightful little shivers down her spine. She tried her best not to let the feeling of victory show in her expression as she followed him up the stairs. Sinking down onto the rocking chair, she set the basket at her side. The first hurdle was behind her. Now it was time to focus on the next.

Bradan came back out of the house a moment later, held out a cup of water to her. As she took it, sipped, he kept studying her. There was some fire in that woman, he mused. Everything about her spoke of a strong, confident personality, not easily subdued. Yet she hid it well behind a proper, almost submissive attitude, likely ingrained in her by her upbringing. Overall, it was an entirely alluring mix that had his groin tightening even further. He wouldn't mind exploring the underlying sensuality that was as much part of her as her dark red hair a little further.

He chose to lean back against the porch's railing, she noted, rather than sitting on the footstool near the rocking chair. It kept him towering over her, emphasizing his dominant position. But that was fine by her. He could keep on thinking he had the upper hand. It would make him that much less cautious.

She took another sip of water, measuring him the way he measured her. He was strong, incredibly strong. His body tall and broad, and heavily muscled. At the thought of having him cover her, feel him spread her around his throbbing girth, she felt twinges of pleasure deep in her core.

His thick, dark hair was short and just a bit shaggy. A short, scruffy beard lined his powerful jaw, a firm mouth with thin lips. His cheekbones were wide, his browbones prominent. Overall, his features were deeply masculine, rugged. Yet nonetheless strikingly attractive.

Oh, yes, he'd make a marvelous and potent replacement for her latest pet, she mused as liquid heat pooled in her loins. And he was nothing if not virile. Already, she could see the outline of a thick bulge under his breeches, could feel the air all but sizzle between them. And she hadn't even fed him the potion yet. Barely, just barely, she managed to suppress the delighted laugh that wanted to bubble from her throat. Well, since he was already aroused, she might as well proceed to tackling the next hurdle.

Grabbing the basket, she threw back the linen that covered it. "Would you like some bread? It was baked fresh this morning, and it's the only loaf I didn't sell today in town. I was planning on using it with the stew tonight, so it wouldn't go to waste. But we have more than enough at our home."

His jaw worked as he leaned forward, examined the contents of the basket. "Where did you say you lived again?"

"I didn't."

Her smile was just mysterious enough to add to her allure, Bradan conceded. In answer, his own mouth curved up at the sides. "I'm afraid I might have a hard time pointing you in the right direction, then, since I cannot read your mind. Your home could be anywhere." He accepted the hunk of bread she'd broken off, held out to him. And his smile turned into a grin that was surprisingly boyish and disarming. "Unless you plan on roaming the forest all night, you might want to give me at least a little hint."

So he was able to smile. Illiana let out a throaty chuckle. And, my! He was even beginning to flirt with her. Well, this was going much better than anticipated, she mused, tapping a finger to her pursed lips as she feigned debating how much to tell him. She tried her best not to let her excitement show as he took the first bite of the bread.

When he'd finished half of the chunk she'd handed him, she pretended to relent. "My family and I live in a fair-sized cottage down by the Geblyr stream, near where it meets the miller's pond.

"The miller's pond, huh? I guess that explains why your family makes a living off bread. Really tasty bread, at that." If he noticed the quick gleam in her eyes when he finished the chunk, he didn't let on.

"The mill belongs to a distant cousin." It wasn't really a lie. Both the mill and the cottage had been in her family for generations. Illiana had merely omitted the fact that the last time she'd lived there had been well over a hundred years ago.

Setting the basket back down, she leaned forward a little further than necessary, gave him an excellent view of the creamy slopes of her breasts. Then she straightened once more, threw him another look from under lowered lashes.

The sight of the ample cleavage had the pulse pounding in his rock-hard cock. As did the coy glance—even if it hadn't fooled him for a moment. There was no denying that despite her pretense of proper behavior, the woman was an utterly sensual creature.

He wanted her. Yes, he wanted her. Wanted her wild and unbridled in his bed, moaning and arching up under him as he drove into her. And he had just the idea how to make his desire reality. Carefully schooling his face into a thoughtful expression, he shifted his weight.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news." He waited for her eyes to meet his before he proceeded. "You've managed to come quite far out of your way. It will take you at least a couple of hours to make it back your home. Even if you hurry, you will not reach it before dark." He threw a pointed look over his shoulder, to where the setting sun cast an orange glow through the trees.

Illiana leaned back in the chair, blew out a breath. "In that case, I consider myself incredibly lucky that I found your cabin. I've had to spend the night in the forest before. And I admit it is not an experience I care to repeat." She gave a little shudder for emphasis. "There are countless dangers lurking in these woods after dark."

Both of his dark brows lifted slowly while amusement played around his mouth. "You deem it safer, then, to put yourself at the mercy of a barely civilized man?"

Her head fell back, exposing the delicate column of her throat, and her laugh rang out, delightfully wicked and clear as bells. Then she shot him a look that was pure sultry, pure seductive. "I rather much enjoy being at the mercy of a man."

Braden's breath caught in his lungs, and his cock gave a violent throb under his breeches. So, she'd finally dropped the act. He had expected it to take a little longer than that. But he was certainly not complaining. Desire was burning like a roaring flame in his groin, threatening to consume him. He was somewhat shocked by its intensity, since he generally prided himself on his control. Yet there was something about this woman that drove him near mad with need. And if she was willing, he'd be a fool not to take her up on her offer.

Their gazes locked, and, for a moment, he could have sworn the air shimmered with heat between them. That he could detect a hint of something flashing in her eyes. Dismissing it, he held out his hand. "Speaking of sunset, we better head inside." His voice sounded hoarse, gravelly with arousal. "Even I prefer not to be caught out in this forest after dark."

She accepted his hand, let him lead her inside. Her throaty chuckle drifted into the night on a wisp of mist.

Illiana could feel the magic radiating from him. His body practically buzzed with it. She might have used a bit too heavy a hand with the Arling root, she realized, amused. And let out another mischievous chuckle. But since it seemed to only be helping her achieve her goal, there was no harm done. Well, at least not to her. And that was all that mattered. If the man ended up going mad quicker than the others, she'd just have to find yet another pet.

Bradan closed the door, turned back to face the wickedly alluring woman. For a moment, he forgot how she'd gotten there as arousal shrouded all rational thought in a haze. Then his mind cleared, and he noted she was watching him with curiosity, lips pursed into an enticing pout. The thought of having those lips wrapped around his shaft had his cock jerking violently against the fabric of his pants.

She must have noticed, for her blue eyes lowered to his groin, her thick, long lashes fanning out on her alabaster cheeks. He could have sworn he heard her purr as her gaze travelled back up to meet his.

Illiana knew he must be darn near ready to pounce on her by now. Yet there was something that kept holding him back. Figuring it couldn't hurt, she decided to give him another little nudge of encouragement.

Dancing her fingers up his massive arm, she gave a little shiver of female appreciation at the feel of steel-hard muscle under her fingertips. "So, . . . what exactly are you planning on doing to me, now that you have me at your mercy?"

"Are you certain you want to find out?" The words came out on a groan that sounded almost like a growl. In fact, Bradan was beginning to feel almost feral. Never in his life had he desired a woman as much as her, and the need to claim her threatened to shatter the last of his control.

Leaning closer to him, Illiana brushed her breasts against his broad chest. "Oh, I'm certain I will enjoy every moment of it. Particularly the end."

If he registered anything weird about her statement, he didn't give any indication. He made another sound—part moan, part growl. Then his mouth came crushing down on hers.

It was hot and hungry, and urgent, and her loins caught on fire from it. It had been too long, entirely too long since her needs had been sated, even though her previous pet had been gone for less than a month. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him with feverish intensity, taking his mouth as thoroughly as he took hers.

And felt a rush of power wash over her. Despite his superior physical strength, he was no match for her cunning, her abilities.

Slipping her hands under his shirt, she ran her nails down his back, felt his whole body tense. He was all but quivering with need, she noted, delighted with how well the potion had worked. Her hands travelled to his front, over the broad expanse of his hard chest. She teased his nipples with featherlight brushes. Then pinched.

His deep moan reverberated through her mouth. And the last bit of reserve he might have had crumbled. He pressed her back against the wall, trapping her there with his weight. His hands, large, strong, and calloused, flattened over her breasts through the shirt she wore, squeezed.

A mewling sound escaped Illiana's throat as she arched up against them. His fingers dug into her tender flesh, rough and possessive. It only increased the fire burning in her loins, fueled her arousal until it flashed almost as blazingly as his.

Greedy with need, he took her mouth harder, slid his hands under her shirt, over her waist, up her ribcage. His thumbs found her nipples, stroking, teasing the sensitive buds. With a skill she hadn't expected, he caressed them until they were tight and aching, until she moaned and shivered with pleasure.

Her whole core throbbed with desire, demanding attention. He was more potent than she'd given him credit for, Illiana realized as her body responded much stronger than it ever had before. Near mindless with need herself, she pushed her groin against his, rubbed against him with an urgency that turned her blood to steam.

She could feel the hard length of him throbbing and jerking against her heated core. The strength of his desire obvious even through the layers of their clothes. And she knew the potion was beginning to hit full force.

Impatiently, he yanked her shirt over her head, discarded it. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her intensely while arousal swirled in his eyes. Then she heard him catch his breath, and he leaned forward, brushed his lips over her nipples, softly, searingly, one at a time.

Grabbing his head, she pulled him closer, was rewarded when he drew a nipple into his mouth, sucked it, flicked his tongue over it until her head fell back against the wall. She let out another throaty moan when his teeth grazed over the sensitive bud, thoroughly enjoying his rougher nature.

Then his mouth met hers once more, kissing her with fierce, hot urgency that made her tremble and quake. She kissed him back with a flaming hunger of her own while his groin rocked into her, sending little sparks of pleasure shooting through her core.

She needed more of him, needed to feel his throbbing length deep inside of her. Reaching between them, she found his pulsing cock, gave it a few, rough strokes through his breeches. His mouth tore from hers as a deep, long moan rumbled in chest. Then he encircled her wrist in an iron grip, snatched back her hand.

Braden was barely hanging on to his control. This little vixen of a woman was driving him out of his mind with need. He knew if he let her tease him for even the slightest bit of time, it would be over all too soon. Already, he could feel his balls draw closer to his body, churning as if he hadn't released in over a year. And while it took all the remaining strength he could muster, there was still part of him that insisted on seeing her pleasured as well.

Impressed that he could still summon up so much discipline despite the magic that coursed through him, Illiana waited for him to make the next move. While she was thoroughly looking forward to draining him of his seed, there was no reason she couldn't enjoy the encounter to the fullest in the meantime.

She felt his hands at her waist, pulling at the laces that held up her skirt. A moment later, he let it slip down over her hips, and it fell to the floor with a silken whisper.

His eyes bore into hers as he sank to his knees in front of her. Leaning back, she pressed her hands flat against the cool plaster of the wall as he painted a hot, wet trail with his mouth down her right thigh, then her left. His calloused fingers dug into her butt, yanked her heated center forward.

She felt his hot breath feather over the apex of her thighs, caught her lower lip between her teeth while she waited, waited. Her whole core tingled with anticipation, and it was all she could do not to press her center against his mouth.

Then his tongue trailed a path between her folds—from the bottom of her heated entrance to her clit—one long, smooth swipe that made her hips jerk in response. He waited a beat, hovering a hair away from her, enjoyed the way her hips were squirming. Then repeated the process. He wanted her as wild with need as he was.

She gasped when his tongue found her clit, thrummed a quick, soft drumroll against it. Curling her fingers in his hair, she held him steady, urged him on. Then flung one long, shapely leg over his shoulder to give him better access.

His tongue danced over her clit, circling, flicking, tapping the sensitive bud until her head fell back against the wall, and she whimpered, near desperate with need. He changed the rhythm, the speed, the pressure until he knew exactly how she responded to every little stroke. Then used the knowledge on only her most sensitive spots.

Eyes closed, heart pounding, she dug her fingers into his shoulders as his tongue drummed against her clit relentlessly, as her pleasure rose and rose. Her moist tunnel clenched and released in a throbbing rhythm that matched her racing pulse. She craved to be filled, to feel herself stretch, to receive the hard, punishing strokes that would bring about her release.

Arching her back, she moved against his mouth, enjoyed the skillful movements of his tongue. The surprise at discovering he was a talented lover only enhanced the sensations radiating from her core. Featherlight strokes alternated with hard flicks and circles until she felt herself rushing toward her peak.

When she felt the tension, the tightening of her core that marked her imminent release, she pushed his head away. She had no intentions of failing to achieve her goal because she'd crested too early.

Mind hazy with lust, Bradan rose. The taste of her still lingered on his tongue, surprisingly sweet, and utterly addictive. His whole body burned, almost feverish, desire threatening to consume him. A little warning bell in the back of his mind cautioned him to keep up his guard. But he was too far gone too care, too aroused, too desperate to find release to pay it any heed.

Impatient to get on with it, he yanked off his shirt, discarded his breeches. The woman's sharp intake of breath only heightened his arousal further. Her blue eyes glittered as they studied him, her luscious lips turned up at the corners with an appreciative smile.

My, my, Illiana mused. The man was a sight to behold. Tall, broad, heavily muscled, naked. Glorious. Smooth dark hair formed a trail from his wide chest to the apex of his thighs. His legs were long and powerful looking.

And what lay between them was nothing short of impressive.

Sauntering closer to him, she ran her tongue over her lip. Gave him a perfect view of creamy skin over full, firm breasts, a narrow waist, and gently curving hips that swayed with every step. Stopping before him, she danced her fingers teasingly down his chest, over his washboard stomach, to the hard length throbbing between his thighs.

When he grabbed her hair, pulled back her head, she let out a wickedly delighted chuckle. Then slowly, seductively sank to her knees before him. Looking up at him, she slowly, slowly wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, fluttered her tongue around it.

His deep, long moan sent pleasurable little shivers down her spine, fueled the fire burning in her loins. She would have loved to play with him for a while, but she knew he was way too restless by now, his need too urgent. So she sucked him down, deep into her mouth, then began to slide her lips over the pulsing shaft with steady strokes. Her tongue flicked rapidly over the sensitive spot on the underside of his head, the thick, throbbing ridge on the bottom of his cock.

The first drops of pre-seed dissolved on her tongue, and she greedily swallowed, savored the taste. Already, she could feel little tendrils of the life-prolonging essence begin to flow from him. The accompanying rush that coursed through her as she absorbed it caused her to shiver with pleasure. Her moan reverberated up his shaft, drew a lower, deeper, rumbling one from him in answer.

Bradan felt the skin of his cock tightening to bursting point as his cock grew harder than ever before. The little vixen's hot, moist mouth felt heavenly, working his shaft with incredible suction. The flutters and flicks of her tongue caused his groin to tingle, then tighten, tighten, until he knew he was about to explode. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath came in short, labored bursts.

It took all the control he could muster to grab her hair once more, yank back her head. His balls were churning, desperate to release. His cock jerked angrily at the sudden lack of stimulation. The need to spill his seed nearly overwhelmed him. But he was determined to feel the wet, fluttering walls of her tunnel around his cock.

Pulling her to her feet, he molded his lips to hers again, felt her slide her arms around his neck. His large hands curved beneath her butt cheeks, picked her up. In a smooth motion, she wrapped her legs around his waist, eager and ready to receive him.

But he turned, carried her through the doorway to the small bedroom as if she weighed no more than a feather. The powerful muscles of his flanks rippled under her thighs, had a flood of moisture pooling in her loins. She could feel it trickle from her tunnel with every step he took.

A second later, he tipped them both onto the bed.

And thrust into her hard.

Illiana let out a short, sharp cry at the suddenness of it, the sheer pleasure of finally being stretched, impaled. He was big, so big, so hot. And filled her to capacity. Her walls were trembling around his thick girth, massaging his pulsing shaft with little spasms.

Her cry was swallowed up by his mouth, his kisses fierce, possessive, demanding. His cock drew back—one long, achingly slow stroke. Then he drove into her again. Her breath caught in her throat as he began to thrust through her tight, slick tunnel, deep, hard, and fast.

Her walls were clenching at the massive shaft as it slid through them, increasing the marvelous friction. The crown of his cock raked over her inner pleasure spot, caught wonderfully at the sensitive nerves around her entrance.

Long, throaty moans escaped her throat as she arched her back, invited him to drive even deeper into her. Her thighs tightened around his waist, and she pushed up her hips, met his every thrust. Sharp sparks of pleasure radiated from her core when he changed the angle, slid his shaft over her clit with every stroke.

She loved the way her tunnel stretched to conform for him, loved the way he took her, pounded her with near animalistic force. He was driving her wild, so that she could do nothing but gasp and moan, and surge against him.

She squealed when he grew even thicker, impossibly hard. His thrust came punishing, almost brutal now. The look on his face was pure feral, devoid of any control. And she knew it was only moments before he would release.

Exhilarated with the knowledge that she was so close to achieving her goal, she closed her eyes, focused. In her mind, she began to chant the incantation that would help her drain from him the essence that prolonged her life.

She hadn't finished the first line of the spell when he suddenly stopped, sheathed deep inside of her. Opening her eyes, she found his gaze boring into hers with absolute intensity. She could see the arousal still swirling in his eyes. But there was something else there, as well, beneath it. It sent a little shiver of fear down her spine.

Bradan made a sound that rumbled up from deep in his chest. There was no mistaking it for anything other than a growl. Not the growl of a human, either, but one of a wild, predatory beast. A moment later, Illiana gasped when she felt the cock still sheathed inside of her begin to change shape.

The head grew shorter, blunter, larger, more flared. Her tight walls quivered as large bumps formed along the shaft, stretched them even wider. Her eyes flew open when he pulled back, drove into her again. There was no doubt that the cock impaling her was no longer human.

"You're a shifter!" she screeched at him, raked her nails down his arm.

In answer, his eyes turned golden yellow for a moment, glowing savagely. Then she felt his cock change shape again. The head went down, the bumps disappeared. Instead, the shaft was now lined with numerous tall ridges. They stimulated her in the most incredible ways as he began sliding in and out of her once more, but she was way too furious to acknowledge the sensations.

Along with the fury came another prickle of fear as the full realization of her predicament settled in. He was a shifter. And an incredibly powerful one, at that, judging by the fact that he was able to shift just one part of his body. In all her years, she'd never heard of another one like him. But, as a shifter, there was no telling what effect the potion would have on him, should he decide to change his form. He could easily end up killing her if the magic ended up driving whatever he shifted into insane.

Futilely, she struggled, pounded her hands against his chest, tried to get away. But he simply grabbed her wrists, pulled her arms over her head, held them down. And she felt his cock shifting shape once more.

Illiana suppressed the flutter of panic, summoned her power. How she could have missed this when she'd read his energy this past week was beyond her. Cursing her carelessness, and him, she let the power built, built. She might be no match for him physically, but if he thought he'd get the better of her, he was mistaking. She was just furious enough to blast him with a shockwave that would sent him hurtling across the room.

Rearing as far as she could, she unleashed her fury. The air trembled with the massive release of energy. There was a sizzling, crackling sound, and the whole cabin shook.

But the shifter merely gave a little jerk. Then shook himself like a dog ridding itself of water. "Ouch. That actually stung." He gave her a grin that had her wishing she could plant her fist into his mouth. "You have some serious power. Witch. Too bad that was the last time you'll ever use it."

"What? How?" Illiana just barely managed to choke out the words as panic tightened her throat. "You should be dead."

Bradan's grin grew wider, and she once more noticed that there was a boyish charm to the thrice-darned man when he smiled. "Rest assured, you likely knocked about ten years off my life with that hit. But that's all right. I'll just drain them from your essence when you crest your peak. That should restore them."

Bending down, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, caressed the hard tip with his tongue, then lifted his head again. "Lucky for me, you already fed me the potion. So my body is ready for the exchange of energy."

Illiana's eyes grew round as saucers at his words. "How do you know about that spell? You're a shifter, your kind doesn't use magic."

"Actually, I'm a warlock. I merely learned to acquire the powers of a shifter. Some three-hundred years ago, I believe it was." He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, fluttered his tongue over it.

Irritated, Illiana shook him off. She wanted answers from this brute beast. And, as much as she hated to admit it, his stimulation of her nipples, the cock that was still changing shapes inside of her, were entirely too distracting. His deep, rumbling chuckle had goosebumps forming on her skin. This was absolutely ridiculous.

Bradan shot her glance, laughter dancing in his eyes. He'd thought her stunningly beautiful before. But with her powers stripped, her pouty, annoyed expression, and the defiance still burning strong in her, she was enticing in an utterly irresistible way.

"I have to admit, I'm rather amused that someone would actually be brave enough to try to use my own spell against me." His mouth closed over her nipple again. "The raven was a nice touch, by the way."

The words came out mumbled, and Illiana resented the pleasurable little shudder that went through her at the feel of his rough beard against her skin.

"Would you stop that?" A strangled shriek, full of frustration, burst from her lips. She couldn't think with all the warring sensations churning up her body and mind. And she needed her wits about her if she wanted to make it out of here alive. "Your spell? What do you mean, your spell?"

Bradan blew out a sigh that had her traitorous nipple puckering even further. "I told you, I'm a warlock. My house was lost under an unfortunate landslide while I was away, travelling the world. Since I knew all my spells by heart, there was no need to expel the energy to clear the rubble. And I figured my work was safe enough. No one ever bothered to head out that way." Slowly, steadily, he began to slide his cock in and out of her once more. "You must have stumbled across it somehow, retrieved the book that contained the spell."

Despite the shock still rippling through her, Illiana had to bite her lower lip to prevent herself from moaning at the feel of the exotic cock's languid thrusts. The sensations were incredible, stimulating her in ways she never felt before. "That landslide happened five hundred years ago." Her voice was breathless, hoarse with arousal. "Just how old are you?"

The muscles in his powerful shoulders bunched, then relaxed he shrugged. "I stopped counting after I passed my six-hundred-eightieth birthday. Figured there was no sense in it anymore."

"Bastard!" She spat the word at him. "You said you had no special powers."

"I made no such claim." His cock shifted form once more, thrust in and out of her faster. "I merely stated that I couldn't read your mind. Which is the truth. I can't. It takes way too much energy to block people's thoughts once you acquire the skill. Not worth the effort."

Her renewed struggles caused him to moan. "Keep squirming, witch. I do so enjoy the feel of your walls quivering around my cock."

"You can't do this." She arched up, and he drove deeper. Shifted her hips down, and his shaft slid more firmly over her clit. No matter what she did, it only increased the amazing stimulation.

"Do what?" His cock grew thicker, the shaft now lined with countless little bumps. "Use my spell on you the way you planned on using it on me?"

Illiana gasped as the bumps made her that much more aware of the slide of the thick cock moving through her moist tunnel. Each stroke was long, deliberate, putting the most amazing pressure on her inner pleasure spot, her clit.

Drawing on her last reserves, she tried one more time to blast him with wave of magic. It bounced off his broad body harmlessly.

"Enough," he growled. Gave her one deep, hard thrust. Then rested, deep inside of her, lodged firmly against her womb. "You think you are powerful, but you know nothing about true power. Your magic cannot hurt me."

In answer, she sent another shockwave aimed at him. She hadn't survived these past hundred-and-forty years without fighting for her life a time or two. If nothing else, it had managed to stop the maddening glide of his cock through her sensitive walls.

His snarl sounded pure feral. "Enough, I said," he bellowed. And drove into her with another punishingly hard thrust.

Her body responded before she could stop it—arching up against him, begging for more. Her tunnel throbbed with arousal, moisture pooled until it ran in little rivulets down her thighs. Her mind turned hazy, fuzzy with desire, and she realized she was beginning to have a hard time forming coherent thoughts.

There was a buzzing feeling in her body when she tried to summon her magic one last time. She knew he had won when her powers failed her, the energy sizzling like embers of a fire doused with water. In its stead, a wave of arousal washed over her, so strong, it threatened to consume her.

"Ah, I see it's finally working." Bradan's voice drifted to her ears as if through a fog. When she merely looked up at him with questioning eyes, he bent over, pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "I mixed a good dose of the potion into the water I gave you, just to be sure. In case your powers were greater than I anticipated. I must say, it took a bit longer to work than I would have thought. But now that you're with me, we might as well finish the ritual."

Once more, his cock shifted, this time back into its human shape. To her dismay, it felt no less magnificent, Illiana noted as it continued its slow, deliberate glide through her quivering walls. She knew she should keep fighting him, but his skillful thrusts felt marvelous. His strokes came harder, faster, heightening her pleasure until she burned with it, writhing and quaking beneath him.

She hadn't noticed he'd released her wrists until her arms wrapped around his neck, pulled him closer. His mouth came crushing down on hers once more, and she kissed him back with fiery abandon. The most intense sensations radiated from her core as his shaft thrust against her inner pleasure spot, slid over her clit again and again.

Bradan's deep moans drowned out her higher ones, her mewls and whimpers as her tunnel quivered and shuddered around his shaft, massaging his length with a fluttering rhythm. She was tight, exquisitely tight and wet, gripping, squeezing his cock like a hot, velvet vise.

Her auburn hair fanned out over the pillow, her back was arched, thrusting the glorious mounds of her breasts at him like an offering. Groaning, he flattened his calloused hands over them, pressed them together. His mouth travelled down the exposed column of her throat, then closed over the hardened peak of her nipple. When his teeth grazed over the sensitive bud, he felt her tunnel clench in spasms around his cock.

Repeating the process on the other side, he was rewarded with a series of flutters from her walls around his shaft. And her back bowed even further, pressing her breasts firmer against his mouth. Her tunnel rippled over his cock as he suckled, nipped at the buds, flicked over them with his tongue. The quivering spasms sent waves of pleasure through his core, until his loins tightened, tightened.

Lifting his head, he stared down at her. She was a stunning beauty in every way. But lost in the throes of passion, she took his breath away. She'd make a ravishing pet, and he intended to keep her for quite a while. He didn't need to use the potion that would eventually drive her insane. He'd simply tame her, and bind her to him with pleasure.

"You, witch, are now thoroughly under my command," he whispered in her ear. And drove into her even harder, faster, deeper.

Illiana was too far gone to care. Her tunnel tightened around his cock as her pleasure rose higher and higher, as she rushed toward a mind-blowing release. If this was what happened when she surrendered control to him, she'd gladly give it up.

His fingers teased her nipples with incredible skill. His cock, his magnificent cock hit every sensitive spot, every nerve just right. Her toes and fingers curled as the tension built, built until she was breathless, gasping for air. She hung suspended at the edge of her peak while her heart thundered in her chest, her pulse roared in her ears.

His lips brushed over hers once more, a whisper of harsh breaths and moans. "Go ahead, crest for me, my beauty," she heard his voice, gravelly with lust. "Once you do, you'll be bound to me forever. Mine for eternity."

The shock of it backed her away from the edge. She knew he spoke the truth. If the potion didn't bind her to him, he'd likely use a different magic to bend her to his will. She tried to fight the sensations as his cock kept driving into her, tried to will the immensely pleasurable feelings away.

Then he pinched her nipple, lightly at first, then harder. His other hand travelled down her body, slid between their bodies to her heated core. And his finger found her clit, stimulated it with amazing skill. He was a master at bringing a woman to pleasure, she soon realized. And felt her body rushing right back to the edge of release.

She dug her nails into his back as each stroke of his cock came quicker, rougher, more precise. He grew harder, thicker as his own pleasure began to spike, stretching her further and further. And making her that much more sensitive to every perfectly angled stroke.

Frantic with need, weak with passion, she surrendered. Greedily drank in the pleasure of every thrust. Her body drew tight as a bowstring, arching, freezing in place. His finger left her clit, but it no longer mattered. His weight came crashing down on her as pleasure overtook him, as he lost control.

And he thrust inside of her with barely controlled savagery.

Illiana clung to his broad shoulders as he made her shudder, made her scream. As her tunnel clenched and convulsed around his thick girth. And she knew she was lost. Her pleasure spiked, and she was catapulted over the edge, releasing in long, undulating waves that finally burst into an earth-shattering intensity that rocked her world.

She was still soaring when he drove inside of her one last time and, with a long, guttural moan, found his own release. His powerful flanks pressed hard against her bucking body, grinding against her clit. Sharp sparks shot from the oversensitive bud, caused her tunnel to clench down on his shaft, squeezing, milking his cock of every last drop of seed.

She almost howled with the overwhelming sensations as his thick length jerked inside of her with powerful spasms, as spurt after spurt rushed through the throbbing ridge and splashed against her womb. She was still trembling with little aftershocks of pleasure when the contractions of his cock finally stilled.

Lungs heaving, both of them simply lay there for a while, until their breathing returned to normal, their heartrates slowed down. Her body jerked one final time when he pulled out, rolled away from her.

A moment later, he rose, and left the room.

Illiana floated back to earth to discover that she was getting drowsy. Way drowsier than what was normal for the afterglow of a tremendous release. As her eyelids fell closed, she blew out a resigned sigh. And let the magic take her under.

When she came back to, it was fully dark outside, the room illuminated by torches. Blinking, she took a look around. A moment later, her eyes flew open, and she jumped to her feet. Her hands gripped the bars of the cage she was in, rattled them.

The scream that tore from her throat was one of pure fury.

Chuckling in that deep, rumbling way of his, Bradan stepped into the room. "Do not fear, my beauty. You'll soon get used to your new home." Crossing his arms over his chest, he moved closer. "If it is any consolation, I've never had a pet as beautiful as you. And, rest assured, I saw to it that you'll retain this rather stunningly attractive form for as long as you're mine. I don't find the old crow anywhere near as appealing."

Burning with rage, she beat her fists against the cage bars, spat curses at him. When he only laughed, she stopped, refusing to further entertain him.

"Tell me, witch. What do you get when a novice tries to fool a warlock on the first day of April?"

Illiana merely glared at him, refusing to rise to the bait.

Shrugging, he turned, waved a hand over his shoulder. "The answer is: A witch deceived."

As Bradan walked away, a single black feather drifted down from above. He held out his hand, caught it. Then curled his fingers into a fist. When he opened them once more, the feather had vanished.

The raven was no more.

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