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Serafina continues her affair with her pet werewolf Cash.

The door had no lock, but she moved a heavy bench in front of it, and had to be satisfied with that. She would only be in there a minute, she told herself.

Stripping off her tunic, and the now soaked undershirt, she hung them on racks above the steam vents, the blistering hot air rising up from the very bowels of the planet. A scratched and pitted sheet of metal hung on one wall, her reflection a warped and silvered thing, but the feeble candle light cast her skinny body in a harsh light of sharp angles and deep shadows. All her ribs showed and deep hollows beneath her neck held the darkness, but her chest was flat as any man's, a credit to the power of that horrid burning salve.

Lian slipped out of her stiff trousers and thick woolen hose, piling them on a bench near the shower area, and cast one last look at the door before removing her underwear. Feeling very vulnerable, she stepped into the shower, the rough slate tiles wet and warm beneath her frozen feet. This shower was big enough for a dozen men, with six shower heads pointing toward the center, but Lian needed only one. Hanging her towel on the hook beside the faucet, she let the almost scalding water warm her frozen body. It felt so good, she lost track of time, forgetting the hordes of men who could be leaving the hall at any time.

A noise behind her snapped her out of oblivious rapture. She tried not to panic, telling herself that whoever it was would see a man if she did not turn around. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a figure, completely naked, through the thick clouds of steam. If she couldn't tell who it was, maybe neither could he.

"Who's there?" she asked gruffly, going through the motions of washing. The man behind her didn't answer. Trying to look casual, she reached up to turn off the water and grab her towel.

"Don't," he ordered. The voice sent chills through her and she froze, then let her arms fall to her sides.

"Mirrik," she whispered. He came up behind her, his hands clasping her shoulders. For once, he wasn't wearing the gloves. She didn't move, hardly daring to breathe as his rough hands slid down her arms, stopping above her elbows. She cringed as he stepped closer, his hands brushing her sides as they moved under her arms to encircle her like a snake.

Lian closed her eyes, her body going rigid as he pressed against her. His hands explored her chest, her tiny nipples tingling as he rubbed over them, the sensitive flesh hardening beneath his touch. A tiny whimper escaped her lips as he lowered his head to her shoulder, his teeth scraping across her skin. No lurid, lustful kisses he bestowed upon her, just bites that bordered on pain.

"Sweet," he growled into the hollow of her neck, then bit and nipped his way up to her ear. His hands slid down her wet stomach, fanning out to caress her hips, then turning in to tug at her curly hairs. A solitary tear slipped down her cheek as she tried not to imagine what he would do to her once he found out the truth. "Such a sweet boy," he whispered in her ear as he moved to take her cock in his hand.

When he found nothing, Mirrik pulled back, stepping away from her. Lian grabbed her towel, trying to wrap it around her waist, but Mirrik spun her around and snatched it away. The towel fell to the floor as he pulled her to him and forced one hand between her legs, running a finger the length of her slit before driving it up inside. She turned her face away, but refused to scream or do anything else that might excite him.

Mirrik let go and she fell backward against the wall, catching herself on the water pipes. The king stared at her a moment, his scarred face for once showing the semblance of emotion, but it was no emotion she could read, then he turned and disappeared into the mist. When he didn't return, Lian let herself sink to the floor, her knees pulled up in front of her. She covered her face with her hands and wept.


Mirrik didn't tell anyone.

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