Zeldris
The air hissed and crackled, like dying embers lingering in the atmosphere. Unseen, but present.
Zeldris was not expecting company, not to mention the kind of company that pounced from the shadows with enough force to throw even him off balance.
It happened so fast, barely in the blink of an eye, and he was tackled into the ruin's dirt like some infant Nyx, all strength and precision used against him in a flash of instinct and claw.
The beast, whatever it was, was relentless.
It couldn't be just a shifter. No, this had to be something older, something more savage. A beast forged of war and blood and moons gone mad.
And for the first time in centuries, Zeldris, High Scourge of Nethernight, was not predator.
No, he was prey.
His spine slammed into the earth, ribs caged by brute strength, wrists pinned in clawed hands that burned hot against his skin. It should have been insulting...It was insulting. But beneath the rage curling in his throat, something else churned.
Curiosity.
Heat.
Intrigue so sharp it felt like a blade cutting against his ribs.
Who was this beast? Who could be so daring?
Zeldris glared up at him, breath ragged. His chest rose and fell against the hard weight above him. His fangs were bared. Magic coiling under his skin like a snake waiting to strike. And still...he couldn't bring himself to strike.
What stopped him? It was the look in the creature's eyes. It was not mindless, it was something far more than that.
It was maddened. Consumed.
And it was focused...on him.
The air between them simmered with heat, heavy with something far more intense than battle. Zeldris could taste it, sweat and blood and want. The blood moon hung above them like an evil omen, crimson light gleaming across their tangled limbs.
He should have retaliated. Should have unleashed every dark rune etched into his bones to bring this beast down.
But his magic... stuttered.
Not weakened.
Hesitant.
The scent of the beast struck him like a blow, rich and masculine, mixed with smoke and rain and something forbidden. It crept into Zeldris's mind, drowning out reason, soaking into his every thought.
And then it clicked... the curse.
The blood moon.
Of course.
The ancient curse, the oldest binding of flesh to flesh when the moon bled. A hunger that ignored reason, logic, even power.
It was common to pure blood Nyx, but Zeldris had never known a canine afflicted by the blood moon.
He had long tamed his own urges, adamant to never fall to the influence of the blood moon.
But in that moment, Zeldris lost control.
He gasped, as the beast's claws sank deeper into his hips, grinding him against the ruin-stone beneath. A strangled sound escaped him, something between fury, pleasure and disbelief. His body betrayed him, heat coiling low in his stomach, pulsing through his veins.
It fed a growing need, a need Zeldris knew he would not be able to tame once it took hold.
"Y..You…" He rasped, teeth gritted against the desire bubbling beneath the surface. "Who are you?"
No answer. Only ragged, animalistic breaths.
Then... searing heat.
Zeldris's body arched as lips, hot and unrelenting, claimed his, putting an end to whatever else he might have had to say.
The creature's kiss was primal. His teeth drew blood, his tongue was a wild thing, and his lips demanded and took, kissing Zeldris like he was the last drop of water in an unending desert.
Zeldris groaned deep in his throat, struggling against the claws restraining his hands. He only managed to break one hand free, but rather than summon a blast of magic to disintegrate the beast where it stood, Zeldris's free hand reached up, curling around the beast's neck to draw him closer.
This was madness!
Those hungry lips finally allowed Zeldris some air, and while he gasped for breath, his armour was harshly tugged at.
This should have been another chance to end this madness, but the thought of it was too far from Zeldris's mind at this moment.
"There's a clasp at the back... damn!" Zeldris gasped out, reaching around him with his free hand, but the beast growled, ferocious and warning.
Zeldris's hand froze in place as the beast tugged it away, and with a measured slash, his armour fell apart, ripped into pieces.
"I see how you like it..." Zeldris murmured, his words dying out as the beast possessed his lips again.
The desire burning beneath his skin was unlike anything he had ever felt before. How could this savage canine stir such feelings within him? Zeldris could not understand it!
His robes soon joined his armor, torn off his body. And as the beast's lips trailed down his bare chest, every point they touched ignited a new fire. One that lit up his bones and boiled his blood.
And then in one move, his breeches were ripped off.
Zeldris gasped, his body shuddering beneath the weight pinning him down. His back arched as his throbbing desire was engulfed in the scorching heat of a hungry, untamed mouth.
Those demanding, relentless lips.... Zeldris could have sworn, he saw stars. Heat engulfed him, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. He hissed, half-moan, half-curse, his claws scrabbling against the rubble as his pride shattered.
A feverish moan escaped Zeldris, the fight drained from his limbs, leaving only raw, unrelenting pleasure.
His thighs trembled, forced open by brute strength, mouth falling open as wave after wave of hot, white pleasure crashed through him. There was neither rhyme, nor mercy. Just this painful pleasure.
The beast was feasting.
And Zeldris was the meal.
He knew it, and yet Zeldris was losing himself.
"You..." he gasped, every word drenched in disbelief and pleasure. "Who are you?"
His voice was fractured as another ripple of pleasure stole his breath, his spine bowing beneath the unrelenting rhythm. "T-Tell me a name, at least..." His voice trembled through the haze of ecstasy.
Still no answer. Just those brutal, ragged breaths, each one a promise of more.
His crown meant nothing here. His strength meant nothing here.
He was pinned beneath hunger.
Pleasure.
Madness.
Madness. That's what this was. And yet, Zeldris surrendered to it completely...
The blood moon pulsed overhead like a second heart. He should've fought harder. Should've ended this. But his fists clenched and unclenched in the dirt, body shivering beneath the sheer force of what he was feeling.
He'd never surrendered. Not in battle. Not in bed. Not in life.
And yet...
Here, now, beneath this beast with no name, no reason, no restraint...
He did.
With a cry muffled against the night, Zeldris shattered, his magic flaring in a violent arc of light as he reached climax.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
His limbs trembled. His mind spun.
And still, the beast lingered.
Breath on his neck. The evidence of the beast's desire pressed to his inner thigh.
Zeldris forced his eyes open, blinking through the haze, meeting the beast's gaze at last.
Crimson met golden.
He should have felt fury.
But all he felt... was need.
Something darker stirred in him. A whisper, low and cruel.
Keep him.
Break him. Or be broken by him.
Zeldris exhaled slowly, voice a shadow of himself.
"...What the fuck are you?"
The beast said nothing.
But his eyes burned brighter.
And Zeldris knew...
This night wasn't over.
Not even close.