To my audience and readers. Take care of yourselves. This chapter is for me. And the events in it are... difficult to read.

I'm so so sorry, Lyra.

I'm sorry you are the object of my pain and past trauma, and function as a source of healing for this broken soul.

But... I WILL promise you this.

Never again.

All these soul drinking flesh eating fucks will rot while you blossom and find your happiness. For you are a wonderful soul of fire and beauty that will alter the Dream into a better place for you and yours. You will still feel pain and heartache, but after this, no one will be able to hurt you in this way ever again.

Content warning:

Physical/Amwella/Sexual assault and all the things abusers will tell you to try and force you to break for them. Skip this chapter or stop reading at the big bold warning later on if this will hurt you. I have two. One for the physical attack, then when things turn even worse.

But also know, the next chapter will be posted shortly after this one. And Lyra will be Biting The Fuck Back.

Talons dig into the wood. I consider fighting her on this. But… No. I can be quick. Maybe even…

“May I sing?” I ask, inspired to use my hiding song to avoid any Reavers.

She smiles, “When you return.”

I frown and open my mouth to argue, but without moving her head, those jade eyes turn up to bore into me. No words, but her message is clear.

So… I try to move as fast and possible without flat out sprinting. No one is in the hallway or the food room, and I just… ignore the smell and work as fast as possible to stack two trays with food and mugs of cider. Carrying them is a pain, and I can’t run, but… I manage. My Fae form is sure footed and has near perfect balance when I remain undistracted.

I end up making it back to Thendra’s room without seeing but one Reaver leaving a chamber much farther down a hallway. Thendra’s eyes roam over me, seem… odd. Then she looks at her tray. Nods. I managed to grab one of the less foul smelling meats for her alongside the bread and fruits. She has me sing a little thing, just… just use the melody to calm my nerves as we go back to our reading and eating.

But then Thendra speaks a nightmare into the room.

“You’re going to sleep elsewhere tonight.” She murmurs, as if simply stating the color of the walls.

I don’t move for a bit, just… stare down at the page.

“Wh… what?” I whisper softly. Hoping… hoping I just imagined her words.

“Still in the manor, just not here.”

I turn then, stare across the room. “Did… Did I do something wrong? Is this punishment for–”

Jade eyes flit up to me, nearly boiling over with… something. Not anger, not hatred… not… Or maybe it’s deeper? Maybe I messed up so bad somehow that she’s–

“Take whatever books you’d like, and go find a place for yourself.” She says with such a steady and flat tone that I cannot understand what lurks beneath. “Do not return until morning.”

I obey, but it's… just on reflex. And I find myself pausing with a couple books in my arms as I stare down at the floor tiles. Trying to… to understand. Why is she doing this? This… this has to be a punishment. I did something to somehow make her so upset that… that she’s wanting to hurt me.

But what?!? And why not just… tell me? Or hurt me herself!?!

I’ve stopped in a hallway, find my eyes wandering over the walls and half dark rooms. I never… never really explored this place. And… well… as I begin to walk through the hallways and peer down passages I never even considered before. End up losing myself in a bit of exploration of the manor. Almost… almost forget the fear and anxiety.

Some rooms contain sealed crates and boxes, even furniture or beds. Others have shelves with oddities and books. I even find a few rooms with beds and some pretty comfy looking couches that match the ones kept downstairs. I… I’m not brave enough to touch anything. After visiting the Matron’s libraries and hearing about the wards or traps placed I’m pretty scared of what might lurk beneath any such treasures.

However, a few times I do hear murmured purrs or movement, and end up ducking into a room and waiting for them to fade. Once or twice I even see silhouetted shapes pass. I’m too frightened to even work up my Amwella sight then, not sure I even want to know if it’s Twital.

Eventually weariness settles upon me, and I begin looking for a good place to hide and sleep.

I settle upon a room with lots of crates, some busted and disheveled. But out of sight is a little nook between the huge boxes that would make it difficult to see from the hallway or entrance. It's pretty uncomfortable, even compared to the times I’d slept on the mucky and cold forest floors. But… I’m so exhausted from the day I just use the books as a headrest and pass into a fitful slumber.

A distant purr stirs me, and I wriggle, twisting and turning to reach out for Thendra’s warmth and–

“I smell you, little Fae.”

My eye’s jerk awake, and instincts kick in. I pull myself deeper into my nook at the sound of Twital’s voice. She’s in the hall, at least I think she is from the slight echo of her voice. I can’t hear her footfalls though, Reavers are so Dreamer Cursed quiet!

Silence then. And I curl around myself more as I wait. And wait. And wait. Sleep is totally impossible now as a realization overcomes me. I’m… I’m being hunted!?! Why!?! Why is she doing this!?! Did… Did Thendra tell her she could feast on me again? Is she just… planning on cornering me in these secluded hallways and taking bites of me regardless?

I finally take a small and very very quiet breath, and activate my Amwella sight.

Nothing. It can’t see through most solid objects, at least… at least not normally. But with the enhancement to my vision I slowly crawl toward my little nook’s opening, and peek outside. The dim light of the hallway shows me nothing waits in the entrance, and the room seems clear of any Reavers. They’re all huge, so I don’t think she could sneak around–

A tendril of Amwella curls down from above me, and I freeze as I realize my mistake.

“Found you.” Twital purrs from the crates and wall above.

How did she… how did she get up and behind without a sound!?! I consider running in my sudden panic. As my heart pounds in my chest and thoughts shatter into a primal mess of old instincts. Fear of pain, fear of being pinned and beaten and tortured and–

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

But she waits, and I scrape talons on the floor in fear and anger.

“What do you want?” I hiss, and slowly turn to face her. Try to conceal my emotions behind a glare. Nearly glowing gray eyes peer down at me, feet and talons grip the wall as if they were twisting gnarled tree bark instead of smooth tiles. A smirk twitches at her lips.

“I want you to come with me.” She purrs, Amwella tendril curling around my neck.

“Why would I ever–” Although I can’t feel the horrid thing, a flinch jerks my eyes from her.

Twital moves in that second, causing me to need to scramble back into a nearby wall as she kneels and moves to crawl over me. Pinning me without actually having to touch any of my flesh.

“Because, that’s our best use of you.” She whispers, foul flesh coated breath washing over me. “Other’s Amwella wither and expire too quickly, and even fewer contain soulfire rich enough to be worth our time.”

I would have snorted if I wasn’t so terrified, so instead I just turn my head and move the wrist of a blackened hand to block the rancid smell. “Thendra won’t let you, she–”

“Not for the moment. But if you wander into our beds willingly…” Her tendril continues to twist and curl, now winding slowly around my own Amwella. Just barely far enough back to avoid touching it.

No. That’s… I’m not just… She’s… That lights a spark of real anger that begins to burn at the edge of the fear. Gives me a great deal more courage than sense.

I turn back, meet her gaze, and hiss very softly.

Start of a physical/soul attack start here.

That doesn’t even make her pause, only seems to make that smile turn even more cruel. Ugly black teeth shimmer in the darkness. Fingers suddenly grip my ankle, yank me beneath the big woman. Then her tendril of Amwella curls around mine, teeth pop out, dig into my soul.

I jerk to scramble back, trying to claw and twist away. Talons rake across her chest and shoulder and face. Panic floods me, I… I can’t even reach for my Amwella. Not because of Twital’s tendril or my own fear, but… but because Thendra’s threats still lay heavy on my mind. Promises of pain if… if I even think of using my songs to defend myself here!

“Just relax, little pillow slave, let me take my bites and this’ll be over quicker.”

The thing around my soul squeezes, begins to drag itself across my core’s surface. I’m vaguely aware of my own hissing and spitting and kicking. But… she’s just… too big! Too much muscle and weight and… and…

But… this isn’t a contest of the flesh.

Thendra’s words make me pause, almost… almost calm me as I continue to feel Twital’s horrid tendril begin to carve at my soul’s edges. But… what… how would I…

I focus, try to… to remember how I tore at Voe’s soul. How I’d controlled my little soulfire tendrils to rip and tear at her gross Amwella. Try to do the same as I wrap little wigglers around the sharp and twisting thing that bites into me.

I fail, of course. It’s… Dreamer’s Tit’s I’m like some baby panther struggling against a full grown bear! My little pathetic soul can’t… it can’t match this thing. Can’t even scratch the stupid outer layer.

It squeezes tighter, and… and… I… I can’t…

I almost sing then. Begin to weigh the punishments I’m willing to suffer. Gather up my Amwella in sudden anger and reckless instinct and–

My soul melts, goes… huh. Gooey? And just… kinda… slips free of the big ugly limb. Both of us stop then. A shared moment of hesitation and surprise as we both watch my soul wriggle about before popping back into its old shape.

Then Twital growls… and… oh. Dreamer’s Tits she wasn’t mad before. Then she’s re-weaving her tendril around my core as larger, more terrible shapes grow from its surface. I yelp in panic and renew my physical struggle before gasping in pain as she regains a hold of me.

Eventually I manage to turn my soul… um… well I’m not sure. Melty? But the curse ignores the change, so I wrap all my focus around the act, and wriggle my soul free again. This happens a few more times. Twital growls and snarls as her big hands hold me in place, soulfire tendril chasing and clawing and still sometimes biting and ripping very little shards free. But… So long as I focus I can keep my Amwella soft and… and I don’t know… melty enough so that her teeth and claws just pass through it like water.

As the Reaver’s rumbles of anger and annoyance grow louder and more annoyed, Thendra’s words pop back into my mind.

Next time, Bite her back.

That’s… Dreamers Tits that’s really stupid. I’m nothing but a… a jellyfish compared to this big ugly sharp thing! How… how can I even…

But between the loudest snarl yet, and a sudden twist. She’s leaned down closer to me, chest and teeth only a few inches away. I know that in any other circumstance this would be a bad idea. Know that the Reaver could kill me in a hundred ways before I could even flinch. But… Thendra promised…

So I reach up and around, sink talons into Twital’s shoulders while wrapping legs and ankles around her chest and hips, and pull myself up into her. I even sink teeth into her collarbone as I pull my chest into hers before wriggling my soulfire to sort of… um… kinda splat across her core.

She jerks back a little, surprised that her prey would come so close. But within a second I begin to feel her soul as it pulses with emotions. Anger, surprise, fury, curiosity, hunger, fear, worry, panic–

I don’t have teeth or claws or big ugly tendrils to use, so I rely on my soul’s everything to just… squeeze at her. Pinch and clutch at the huge core. I ignore what are now very loud and furious snarls. Feel giant hands begin to peel and pull at my various limbs and face while her own soulfire tries to carve at mine.

It’s very easy for her to begin to get me off and shove me away, but… then she jerks to a halt. My soul still clings to hers. And to pull it free would involve chunks of her own Amwella being pulled and ripped free. There is a pause, a… and Twital’s growls have lowered to an annoyed humming as she adjusts to a sitting position. I still cling to her with tooth and talon and both legs.

“Let go.” She snarls as a hand grips my hair, tugs.

I bite harder, both with my teeth and soul. Hiss and snarl as I feel blood drip down my chin. That makes her flinch and stop. She can’t hurt me too badly, not physically. And even with our huge strength difference she’d have to break a bone or two to get me off her now. And that’s not even considering the soul damage she would suffer.

I wonder how much she can sense my emotions? My own fear and anger and weary Dreamer blighted annoyance. That… that Thendra would let her do this. Why let this Reaver torment me? I just… I did everything she asked!

I lost… lost a talon for her and almost… almost…

I’m crying then. Tears bubbling out as I snarl and bite down harder. Talons dig deeper as I squeeze myself as close as possible to this monster’s body and soul.

Would she have left my corpse to rot with the others? The thought breaks something in me then. Floods me with such anger and rage that begins to wrack my entire body with shaking fury. I’m going to hurt you. I feel my Amwella growl as Twital continues to shift and work through possible ways to get me off. You came after me! Found me alone and tired and still healing and… and thought you could ravage me like… like some–

I’m biting as hard as I can now. And… Well I can literally feel Twital’s Amwella surge to begin healing the wound. Between that and her already tough skin even my Fae sharpened teeth can only go so deep.

We sit like that for… well it feels like forever, as I get to feel Twital’s soul work through this problem. I can’t read her thoughts, but her emotions lay clear just how annoying this is. My soulfire seems to be doing an okay job of hurting her. I can feel her emotions gradually shift from anger and annoyance to… I… I don’t recognize that emotion… What’s she planning?

STOP HERE, only pain lies ahead.

Then her hands wander down, fingers rake and trace patterns along my lower back and butt and–

I jerk and almost lose my grip as her fingers press up between my legs, redouble my snarls and growls as she begins to carve sensual patterns into me. She rumbles out a purring laugh as I bite so hard my jaw begins to ache. Begin to… Dreamer’s Tits what is she… w– why is she…

Flashes of memory hit me, the last time the Reavers feasted on my soul sends a cold spike of fear through me. How… how it was easier when I was… Then she pulls aside my underthing and–

I yelp and flail, begin to kick and shove and push away from the Flesh-eater. But she moves with me, pins the floor to my back while using her own wide hips to keep my legs apart.

Then she uses one huge hand to pin both my wrists above my head and… and she’s… she’s fucking me with the other one. Fingers digging and pressing and moving around between my second lips and clit. I growl and kick and snarl. Try to wriggle away, but she just bites down at the base of my neck to Hold me in place.

Angry cries turn to whimpers and sobs as I fight, eventually get control of my soul again to try and bite and tear at her. But… she’s just too big. I… I can’t…

My Fae body is still too sensitive, and I can feel the bubbling warmth begin to overtake me even as my soulfire finds purchase on her Amwella. Begins to yank and pull and tear at something hard and sharp and–

“STOP! P– Please!” I hiss helplessly. “Y– You’re not supposed to– To–”

It’s too late, and I’m bracing for the cold pain of a Reaver’s Amwella feeding when the shuddering climax overtakes me. As my hips buck one last time and my chest jerks back from her, my Amwella is yanked free. Gasping and twitching and whimpering I watch as her long horrible tendril wraps around my core. Dreamer’s Tits! I’m… I’m too weak, too twitchy, can’t… can’t move. Can’t… get away from that big ugly thing before she–

But the tendril simply rakes over my core, slowly and casually. Not even leaving a scratch, before suddenly jerking and slurping back into Twital’s Amwella. Then she’s leaning down, lips at my ear as she purrs. “Why fight this? Why resist your nature?”

I shudder and turn to curl around myself. Body still a twitching mess of warm spasms and deep weariness. Soul and mind a whimpering puddle as Thendra’s words roll through me.

All others with Scorn or Ravage you.

“Come with me.” Twital looms overhead, still pinning me to the cold stone floor. “Perform as the good little pillow slave Thendra bought you to be.”

I jerk my head. No!

Then brace for… for more… of… that or… pain or…

But she just laughs and rises, “Then I’ll be back tomorrow night. And the one after that. And… How do the Fae phrase it? Until the Dream ends, I’ll keep coming back. You’ll eventually come to want it, beg all of us to fuck and feed on you as Thendra does.”

And then she leaves me. Cold and alone and shuddering with sensations I do not want! That… that disgust me and drive me back into hateful tears. I… I don’t know how long I’m like that. But I must pass into a fitful slumber eventually.

When I awaken on the cold tiled floors my Amwella sight is still going, and before I push it away in horror and revulsion I notice something… a small piece of Twital’s soul slowly drifting through mine.

I broke something free as I fought her.

I almost spit and snarl and try to expel the thing, but… when I look closer I…

A tooth? So big and curled and sharp and… and made of Amwella?

Then, with pain and anger and spite, I begin to wriggle and melt my soulfire around the nasty thing.

Dark plans forming...

Never Again....

Next chapter (Biting The F*** Back) should either be up or will be up very shortly.