Chapter 13 - Doc Terry [https://cdn.midjourney.com/b95f384d-78df-48e6-b0ea-a5ea6aaae9f9/0_3.png]
Doc Terry…
The strength of her pheromones made him feel dizzy with need. Skin prickling along his arms, he couldn’t stop himself from trailing his fingertips across her skin. As a boy, he’d been warned about how difficult it would be to be around his own kind in season. The elders had made it very clear. Even touching would be taboo for him. A killable offense. Banishment, if he was lucky. According to his father’s community, he was incomplete and broken. The flawed weren’t allowed mating rights. Pregnancies were too rare. Those like him were banished to the lesser vessels, the non-Shepherds, where matings didn't lead to children. He’d taken a few travelers home, transients through the town, but his desire for them had been a pale translucent shell of what he felt now with his heart beating in his ears like a drum.
He had never known overwhelming need and longing before. Desire crawled around in him, making his skin ache. She was changing fast and most likely he was going to watch her die if he did nothing. She was much too old for her first change and her body was resisting the split. He’d been alone his first time, afraid, confused, and the return hadn’t gone well. He trailed her wetness across her thigh in looping patterns. Her orgasm had been like ambrosia, and his mouth watered with want. The taste of her an obsession. He’d already touched her, would tasting her damn him any more than his choices already had?
Easing her discomfort was the act of a fool, but she was accelerating. He was going to die for this, for her. There was no community here to help her. No mothers or sisters to sing her home by calling to her humanity. No Aunts to wipe the blood from her skin and ease the seams wider. No bowl of helpful herbs, smelling of sulfur and ash. The first change and her first heat weren’t supposed to be twined together.
In her wildling way, she was using her body’s pleasure to balance the ache of her first change. Her feverish hands roamed his chest; blindly undoing buttons. Wordlessly asking for something that could get him killed. Forbidden. Taboo. Unforgivable. Delicious.
What was her life worth to him? What was his own? She was coming apart and there was no going back from this place. A turn could not be avoided at this point with any amount of prayer or medicine. She pushed him onto his back and leaned over him to bite the curve of his neck. The sting caused his claw tips to slip through his fingertips briefly, adding the scent of his own blood to the air. Her nostrils flared as she pushed the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders. Blood ran down her wrists in thin rivulets. He could help her cross over or watch her bleed out.
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Surely this situation justified breaking the rules. She would be captured in some halfway state of being without his help. He hissed and tried to think. Organize the risk. His mind was blurry from her scent. His animal response to her was more powerful than he’d ever imagined. He had spent so little time with the people since his father’s death that this was his first time up close with someone in heat. He pulled his shirt up over his head and her greedy hands began hot quick work opening his jeans.
Fear gathered like copper pennies under his tongue. He had barely made it through his first change. Could he help her? Was this just selfishness? Coming back had been the hard part. He had fought his way back into his human form after spending days in his true heart shape. As her fingers slid against his hot taunt skin, he pressed his tongue against his damaged palate and swallowed a guttural moan. If only he was whole. Helping her would be honorable.
By the time he was brought to the healer, his flaw was unfixable. Too much time had passed and his human shape had become fixed in an unfinished state. He had been left with a reminder of his failure every time he tried to speak, marking him as an outcast. Forever, unable to claim full adulthood amongst the people. If she didn’t make it, at least she wouldn’t be alone.
When she wound her fingers around his rigid cock, white flashed before his eyes and all practical thoughts were swept from him. It was unfair to expect him to resist her. Especially knowing sex could help her. Save her. Pleasure could ease the way. Blood smeared his skin as she stroked him, and he lifted his hips into her touch. She was hot and slippery as he reached for her. Her thigh slid across him and she settled, squirming and wet. Gritting his teeth together, desire broke apart his own sense of self-preservation, and he slid into her yielding body. Pleasure burst through him like a supernova and he growled as hot itching lines snaked along his skin. Her changing called to him. He gripped her hips and pressed up into her. The animal pleasure of coupling sent rational thought far back into his mind.
He rolled her off of him and she squealed in surprise, fighting him until he pulled her under him. Her face and shoulders pressed into the ground as he brought her hips up and found her white-hot center. She howled as he sank deep, his thighs pressed to her own. Her voice graveled into a growl. Not long. Fast, she was changing so fast. His body knew the way. He split skin, blood running freely down his sides as he gave over into rut. He mated with her.
Moving heavily over her, he jerked her slippery body into him, taking more with each thrust. They were changing, driven by that white-hot place where they joined. Her back made angry resistant cracks as it yielded for the first time to her true heart shape. His chest slid over her arching back as he spent into her; roaring out into the field. Panting under him, she began to slip skin. He eased back from her, giving in to his body’s need to do the same. Relief gave way to the pleasure of becoming.