He played with the small blue beads around his throat as he looked at the report. Things were moving as he wished, they were expanding away from dangerous territory and towards this new and mysterious race. Four worlds, they only had four worlds and according to reports enough power to make the masters nervous. That is if what Asham the fifteenth had to say was true.
Sometimes he missed them, The masters, as most of his race called them. He had known them up close and personal, his fingers caressed the recording crystals around his throat. They held his story, all of it. Shyron's records, Asham the first's, even his own. Everything up to the moment he left and returned home, and he was willing to bet beyond that as well. They also contained the maps, start-charts, and reports on every world that had been explored by Shyron and his people. It was how he plotted where his people would move.
One of the aids came in, "M'Kay'el sir, most of us are taking a break to go hunting, would you like to come with us?"
The hero worship was plain in the young stallion's voice and even now it stung like acid in the veins. The older stallion shook his head, feeling his long braided mane brush the vulnerable junction between his H'vara and his H'varo, slide over the roots of his huge black wings. For black he was, from hooves to wing-tips, like most Myreth males, it was something his father and brothers all shared, his uncles and male cousins. Coats of inky black, manes even darker. His sisters were black too, though, like most mares, their wings were jeweled, deepest emerald, darkest blue, deep brown, a dance of colors that spoke of maturity.
He missed them still, even after so long, so much. He looked at the young male before him and waved a hand to dismiss him. Talking hurt him, damaged him now. Shyron had made sure of that. And no one could reverse it, not the Sysians, and certainly not the masters, not without it slowly killing him. His life was a mixed thing now, partially machine, partially Rin. And of all the Rin taken he was the only one to survive. He still didn't know why, thought he suspected it had something to do with the "unrepairable" part of his brain.
He continued his work when a strange young mare walked in, her wings the buffs, grays, and beiges of an immature female. She smells of n'rava, the tenuous time between becoming a breed-able adult and an unbreed-able child. He snarled low in his throat, irritated by this. How many stupid little fools had thought they wanted him for their first male, only to learn he was....twisted. And THIS one was tiny. Even for a Tira, she was tiny and delicate looking.
He pointed to the table, whatever she brought him she could put there. Instead of obeying him, she walks up to him and moves his plans aside, and THAT pisses him off, with speed of his augmented body he grabs her harshly by the scruff, ignoring her whimper of pain, ENJOYING it and letting her feel the fact he LIKES hurting her, he can't help it, his tongue runs over his teeth as the part of him that is killer enjoys her terror of him.
Still, HE rules, not his to hyped instincts and he shoves them down, her ears are flat against her skull, she's shaking. He uses his free hand to point to the door and snarls in her face, then lets the tiny thing go, she's only half what his mass would be if he wasn't augmented, her head barely reached his chest. She takes whatever it is she has in her hands and sets it down on the table, then swallows. She's got courage, he'll give her that.
She looks up at him, and even though her voice shakes, her words burn into his heart and soul, "I know who you really are, your name is Anasha M'kel T'ir Myreth, I want to talk to you."
She called him ANASHA. NO ONE called him that since Asham, since Elihien. He REMEMBERED the last time he was called that, before Asham sent him away, before Elihien helped him find what should have been home to him, but never was. He was to alien now to his own kind. No longer RIN. He had given them the secret to shape-shifting, but they didn't understand him anymore. Didn't want to.
Suddenly the girl was snarling in his face, "DAMN IT, I'm TALKING to you. I want you to meet my eyes when I do so." but he couldn't, he couldn't. Then he felt a pair of hands on his face. Cool soft female hands, that at once sooth and yet burn his skin, despite his fur, how can they be so hat and cold. How can this.....and he realized it now, she was beautiful, lovely in a way even Asham had not been, Asham hadn't been Shar'rin, their lovemaking had been with him taking her form, learning to enjoy sex the way her kind did. THIS was a female of his own kind.
"DAMN IT, WILL YOU LOOK AT ME!" She was shaking with so many conflicting emotions, she was scared of him, she wanted him, she wanted to hit him. He could feel his blood heat, he wanted to knock this arrogant little bitch down and make her scream in pain and pleasure til she didn't know WHAT she was doing. Like he had with Asham, with a few other females.
His eyes open and close of their own accord as he says firmly, despite the agony that causes lights behind his eyes, "I M'Kay'el." His title, a Holy Warrior, a fighter for the divine, for the sacred. What a JOKE. He hadn't been one for years. He was a murderer trying to make up for his deeds to forgive himself, though he knew Ishem forgave him years ago. He had yet to truly forgive himself.
Her voice is low, pleasing, even as she snarls in frustration, "I know they call you M'Kay'el, but I've done the research, that's NOT your name. You fought the masters, you are a decorated war hero and on BOTH sides of that war. but you turned it all down, from what I can learn, you never seemed to want the fame or the fortune. I can UNDERSTAND that. I may only be a five year old, but I understand that."
A FIVE year. She had only lived through five turnings of the seasons. She was still hardly more than a child, he was at least a thousand TIMES her age, more. His world's year may be four times longer than any of their neighbors, but that didn't change the fact she was YOUNG. Did she even REALIZE the fire she was playing with. She was pushing him, and he LIKED to make those he was breeding scream, submit. Not like these more...sophisticated males. These males who were over-gentle with a Mare's feelings, who let them think they were the boss.
She's foolish, she's stupid, "Find another." the words hurt, he is already getting aroused, and there is NO female he can take to ease that, still he isn't a monster, at least not yet. He doesn't Want a female, he could have P'Tera, Avera, Nytana. And he would terrify them, they couldn't handle him when he was aroused, he wanted things unnatural to them, things that made them feel TO vulnerable.
Then her hands move and he feels himself SCRUFFED, like a child, like a FEMALE, he's torn between wanting to tear into this female and strip flesh from bone and throwing his head back and submitting like he would to his mother when he was young and screwed up badly. What an impudent little bitch! And to make matters worse she's narling in HIS face, "I do NOT want another. I want YOU. But I think your a coward, to damned afraid to even TRY to take me. You don't want a female at your side. Well TOUGH. I'm not giving up, I KNOW what you are, the fact that the last female you EVER touched was terrified afterward. I DO NOT CARE. I have come to CHALLENGE you, and I do now, Either claim me, or I will hound you til you do. don't like it, then do something about it, or is that to much for your pride, Last of the M'Kay'els."
She thinks she KNOWS. OH HE WOULD SHOW HER. She wants him, she'll get him. Even as she turns and runs out of the pavilion, he's icy calm, activating every cybernetic component in his body. Bringing up the sensors, activating the muscle enhancers. It doesn't take him long, the only thing he doesn't do is sharpen his hoof-claws, he doesn't want to kill her, but he is going to make her regret her ever wanting him for her first male.
He stilled the part of him that wanted to rip the female from uppermost shoulder down to her hips. Instead he sniffed the air and took off after her. Challenge him, oh she would learn what a fool she was, and maybe, when she went to the high priests and priestesses crying about how he hurt her, tortured her, terrified her.....Maybe then they would understand he's NOT a hero, he's just short of a monster and should be left to those who knew his world of war.
He followed her scent. She wasn't stupid, she was heading for open country, and for most males of their type, that was difficult, female shar'rin tira were faster on open ground than the males. Ansha males would have an advantage in open ground, and she couldn't know HE was modified to share many Ansha traits, and trained in how to use them most efficiently. He had been expected to keep up with the Master's machines, so he had learned to move efficiently and effectively.
He moved quietly, slowly circling her, his mouth almost drooling as he thought about her screaming like a captured treehopper. He paced her, letting her wear herself out trying to get away from him. He waited patiently for her to start to slow, then he moved with the speed of a striking Ny'cor. Twenty and five tyrka of male plowed into the side of maybe fifteen tyrka of female.
She went down hard, screaming in fear and terror as she desperately pulled her right wing in close to her body to keep from breaking it. He used his larger size to force her onto her back and moved in to take her throat between his powerful jaws. He snarled, forcing himself to remember she was NOT his normal prey he would tear the throat out of, but something better. Something so sweet.
She was shaking, still, horrified, and he suddenly knew how he would make her regret this. She was already on her back, already helpless, at his mercy. He knew what would shame her, humiliate her, show her how helpless she was before a male like HIM, who was a MONSTER. Besides, he would ENJOY IT. It had been to many years since he had taken a female on her back. Should teach the girl to avoid "Big Bad" males. Now she would know just how big he was, and how bad.
"Please, let me up?" She whimpered it as he shoves her legs out of his way so he could mount her, breed her. She obviously was to innocent to know this was even possible for a Rin. This was the sort of things females would share only when they wanted to horrify each other. This was what he had come to CRAVE with all the hunger in his soul. He nuzzled her throat for a moment, nipping it to distract for for a second, ignoring her soft pleas to be let up, then he clamped his jaws down on her throat, cutting off her wind, preventing her from screaming as he viciously forced himself in to the hilt.
She was trying to twist and writhe, trying to scream, but he wouldn't let her breath yet. He withdrew almost all the way then forced himself into her three times more, feeling her small upper limbs try to force his teeth from her throat. She was tight, she was hot, and her scent was a heady mix of fear, pain and...lust? Was she actually ENJOYING this? HE stayed still in her and slowly let up on the pressure, letting her breath, letting her get over the quick and punishing pain as he snarled around her throat, "Bad girl."
Once he was sure the pain stopped he moved his lower hips once more, this was uncomfortable for him, the unnatural angle that he had to hold his body, but in a strange way it made it better, he wouldn't release quickly, his discomfort counting his own pleasure in this. He nuzzled her throat again as he started to take her in earnest, his tri-cloven hooves digging into the ground for purchase to shove himself into her harder and harder, faster and faster.
He could hear her breathing pick up, her her fearful shame filled cries. He let his mouth play with her fur, with the skin under it. He moved down her H'vara until he came to the hard nub of flesh that was the nipple hidden there and he closed his fangs around it gently then started to lick and suckle. He felt her freeze as the pleasure of that sensation washed over her. He let his hands travel along her H'varo until he found the "false nipples" down there and starts to play with them as well.
She is shuddering now, and not just from fear, he's forcing her to fell the pleasure he can bring as he drives into her, he can feel her tighten around him as for the first time she orgasms. Oh she was just STARTING to learn the pleasures and tortures he can inflict. He didn't stop, instead he took a true nipple between his fingers, the other one between his teeth and when he drove into her again he at once painfully pinched one and bit the other.
The effects on the little bitch mare were AMAZING, she almost arched off the ground under him, screaming as she orgasmed even harder than her first time. "Please Please, it's to much, to much." her voice was becoming afraid again, he KNEW she was loosing all control, she couldn't do anything but feel what HE wanted her to. Now she undertood her foolishness in challenging him.
He moved his head again and drove his tongue deep into one of her ears, teasing it, and again she arched in orgams, it look him doing so twice on the other to have her arch like that. "PLEASE!" She was screaming it loudly. He just leaned over and since he was on a pleasure high he could speak without fear of pain for now, "Good Girl, beg what you really want."
"Please, it's to much, Bayo, please."
He jerked back for a moment and stared into her eyes, looking at them, he couldn't move for a second, as he stared at her, her head went all the way back and she whispered again, "Please Bayo." And he stopped holding back, stopped trying, and he took her hands hand put them against his chest, holding them there, feeling her claws dig in as he drove the hardest he ever had, felt himself fill her at last and he roared with all the vicious desire in his soul.
He let out a deep shuddering breath, he hadn't felt that much pleasure since.....Asham. And this was better, this was with a female who was HIS kind, and he just looked at her, not bothering to move, not wanting to, she was helpless under him. She was....HIS. She can called him Bayo, she had admitted she was his female, of his herd. Her voice was shaking, "Please bayo, have I displeased?"
He shook his head and then took her throat between his teeth biting down until he just pierced the skin, enough to do a faint trickle of blood, but no more, then he licked her throat clean, licked until the faint puncture marks closed. Let her know she was at his mercy, her life was in his hands, he would ACCEPT her.
He forced himself to rise with one powerful down stroke of his huge black wings. Lifting his body up off the ground, and he roared out, "SHE IS MINE!"
He looked down on his new treasure and extended his hoof-clawed hand to her, feeling her take it, he pulled her up onto her feet, he moved her so he could cover her with his huge black wing and said softly to her, "You are mine." It held all the power of his earlier roar. And to himself he said in his mind, "And I'll never be alone again."