Uncaged Page 9
~*~
Bruce had everyone split up into groups of two and at dusk, they met back in the forest to check on Amelia.
“I didn’t find out anything. No one’s willing to talk. The whole damn town is afraid.” Bruce said
“We found nothing, either,” the wolves echoed.
“We even found some more kids, but they ran from us when we asked,” the panthers added.
Bruce threw his hands up. “Anyone else?”
There was a collective mumble of no’s and heads seen shaking.
“Goddammit! And I’m not catching a whiff of her! Nowhere! She must be locked in a hole somewhere!”
“What if the girl was lying?” the jackal asked.
“I doubt it. She knows her name. Surprising though that she was willing to talk.”
“Only because Bruce had her in a tizzy,” the she-hawk cooed.
The others chuckled, for it was true. Bruce was a looker. It was clear the girl fancied him.
Bruce raked his hand through his hair. “If only I could find half a dozen more like her! Maybe then we’d find her!”
“Sir? Do we have your permission to hunt?”
Bruce had forgotten about food. “Aye, yes, I’m sorry. Go feast and meet back here. We’ll formulate another plan. Will you bring back a nice juicy mouse for our wounded friend here?” Bruce asked the male owl.
The aging shiftie nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Walking deeper into the woods, the men and ladies parted, each going their separate ways, except for the wolves who hunted together. Bruce stayed behind, too worried to hunt. He walked over to Amelia. She cocked her head up at him when he approached. “I’m going to rest a few trees back, Amelia. Perhaps a few winks will help me think.”
The owl nodded. Bruce found a large slate boulder, jutting beneath a stately pine. Sitting down, he reclined against it and closed his eyes. There was nothing else to do but call for her again, though the silence he knew he was likely to hear would break his heart. He had tried to reach her all day in town and had had no luck.
Wren, can you hear me, sweetheart?
Bruce heard nothing but his own rapid breathing. He watched a beetle crawl over a dried leaf and onto his boot. He’d try to sleep for an hour to regain his strength. He’d need it soon enough.
~*~
Wren refused to eat another thing. She contemplated whether it was worse to be lucid for her death or drugged out of her mind. If she had any chance of survival, she’d have to be alert. Though she was starving, she refused to eat and buried her food in the black dirt beneath her, feigning a wobbly head, even speaking in garbled tones to fool her captors. Toward nightfall, they had brought her a bath, the first since she had been taken from the tavern. At least they would allow her to die a clean woman, she thought, though it made no sense to her. Why would they bring her a bath if she were about to die? Nothing and no one in the God forsaken town made sense.
She pretended to stumble to the bath. Even her captor seemed sedate and serious. Perhaps he had an inkling of kindness in his bones that Wren might use to her advantage, but she could not count on it. He had hit her too many times. The other two women were fast asleep, one of them snoring loudly and the other mumbling and drooling in her drug induced sleep. They had each told her that they were being held on charges of witchcraft but their trials had been delayed to rush hers through, an oddity for sure. Why did Wren have to die first? And where was Bruce? She was certain he would come looking for her, but even that thought did little to comfort her now. She had swooned from the shock of it all and slept half the day away in her cell, having suffered terrible nightmares full of fire. Flames raced up her legs and into her face, waking her, just in time for her bath. Her captor had delivered a ratted towel and wash cloth along with a lumpy piece of lye soap. Wren waited until he was gone and then stripped off her tattered clothes and stepped into the tub.
“Ahh!” she moaned.
The water was steaming hot, a luxury to her now. She lay her head back onto the planks of the wooden barrel and closed her eyes. This would be her last bath ever. She intended to enjoy it.
Wren!
Wren jumped, splashing water over the sides and then shut her eyes tight.
Bruce!
Oh Darling! Thank God, you’re alive! Where are you?
I don’t know. In a prison cell somewhere.
Do you know the name of the town? Is it White Friars?
Yes! That’s it! I saw that name on a store front!
Are you underground? I can’t smell you. I’ve been all over town.
Wren laughed for the first time in days. You don’t want to smell me!
Oh, I assure you, I do, my love!
This is the first bath I’ve had since my capture.
I’m in the head of a naked lady?
Aye, sir.
Bruce’s crotch tightened. He groaned out loud. God, I miss you.
Wren‘s face heated. And I you.
Listen, sweetheart. Why couldn’t I reach you? I have to find you before tomorrow.
Wren nodded. Bruce saw the gesture in his mind’s eye.
Darling, do you know of their plans for you?
Wren nodded again. Bruce recognized the fear behind her blue eyes.
Don’t be afraid, darling. It’s going to take some time, but I will find you. You will not burn.
But, Bruce, they have pistols! They’ll shoot you dead, whether you shift or not.
I’ve brought others with me. We are stronger in numbers. Do you trust me?
Of course, my love.
Good. Now why couldn’t I reach you? Were you drugged?
Aye. The bread is soaked in laudanum. My cell mates are always asleep. I have only been half alert during the trial.
Bloody bastards! Don’t eat another thing they give you.
I haven’t. I bury my food.
Good girl. Keep your mind open, love.
I will, but I’m so afraid.
Don’t be. Soon you’ll be in my arms. I’ll get you out of this, I promise. You must promise me something.
Anything.
If I ask you to, you must shift!
Oh no! I can’t!
Even if it’s to save your life?
I don’t think I remember how.
You can. The power is within you.
I suppose.
You have to promise me, Wren!
Wren stared back at his amber eyes and saw the longing, the pain he was suffering right along with her. I promise.
Good. Now I want you do something else for me, love.
Of course.
Open your eyes without seeing. Keep them open but open your mind. Will you try this for me?
I’ll try. Wren opened her eyes slowly and looked past the rim of the wash tub and into the barren brick wall. She blocked out the noise of the old woman snoring, the mumblings of the other woman. Her surroundings flashed white. Brilliant rays of light shot through a luminous ring of blue where the wall once stood and out of nowhere walked Bruce, smiling proudly.
I knew you could do it!
Wren blinked and the image disappeared. She blinked again, refocusing and there he stood before her with both hands on his hips.
Where did you go?
Am I dreaming?
No.
Are you really here?
In spirit I am.
Can I touch you?
Try it.
Wren leaned out of the tub and reached for him. He took her wet hand and pressed it to his lips.
You feel so real.
I am and so are you. We are together in spirit.
Can anyone else see us?
They see a woman sitting in a tub. Nothing else.
Will you kiss me?
Bruce growled as he knelt down and kissed her split lip tenderly. Wren jumped at the pain from even the slightest touch, a surprise to Bruce. They were only united spiritually, not physically. He had never been able to feel physical force while in this stance before
.
That bastard!
It’s better now.
Bruce made a mental note to take extra care when killing her captor. May I join you?
Of course.
Bruce imagined his clothes gone and they disappeared as he stepped into the tub. Wren threw her arms around his neck and planted tiny kisses all over his face. She felt too real to him. He wondered if they were both dreaming. Wren had given him very realistic dreams many times before. He breathed in her scent and sighed. Even in spirit form, the woman smelled glorious, like a smattering of fresh sunshine and silky gardenias. He pulled her to him and instead of his ghostly image traveling through hers, his flesh clung to hers, skin on skin. Her breasts pushed against the hard muscles of his chest. Her nipples teased him.
Ah darling. I’ve missed you. You feel so real.
Mmm. So do you. Have you ever made love like this?
Never. I didn’t think it was possible.
Is it?
I don’t know. Bruce’s cock rose higher, causing a little ripple in the water, nudging her thigh.
Wren took him in her hand. Bruce groaned.
Wren!
Wren straddled him, wrapping her wet limbs around his neck and torso. Her ass landed softly on his lap, making him harder. Now his cock was throbbing. Real or not, Bruce was going to see this thing through. She nibbled at his lip, taking small nicks with her teeth while she palmed his chest, fingering his erect nipples. Bruce pulled her to him, devouring her neck, breathing her in. Long, black tresses fell over his face and her aroma engulfed his senses. Wren whimpered.
Please, Bruce! I need you inside of me.
Bruce grunted as he grabbed her firm ass, picking her up and sliding her on top of him in one swift move. Wren gasped, flailing her head back in ecstasy as pleasure sliced through her spirit. Bruce let out a brutal growl, more animal than man as he thrust again, pushing her onto his swollen cock. His tender balls swayed in the warm water, slapping her ass. Water splashed onto their laps and between the two of them as Bruce took one breast in his greedy fist and suckled with a raging hunger. He grunted when she arched her back, moaning lower, grinding her hips over him while he danced inside of her. The water made it too difficult and too slow for the eroticism he was now prepared to perform. He stood quickly, his features stern, his face flushed with passion as he hoisted her onto the edge of the tub with his hands cushioning her soft ass. She lifted her legs to his shoulders and leaned back, allowing him full access to her soaked pussy. Bruce dove into her again and again while water splashed out the sides of the tub. Wren held onto the planks of the tub, holding on for dear life, her mouth forming a perfect “o” of raw pleasure as he slid in again and again, groaning each time she squeezed him back, flexing her muscles onto his raging cock.
Ah, love!
Bruce! she cooed back, barely a whisper in his mind.
I love fucking you! God, I’ve missed you!
Bruce, it’s so real!
Aye, my sweet.
Bruce blinked and she was gone. He slammed his eyes shut and was back inside of her, his cock throbbing, sliding into her wet, luxurious cunt.
Bloody Christ, Wren!
Oh, Bruce, Bruce, am I dreaming?
Bruce grunted before he grabbed her by the hair, forcing her face to his. He stuck his tongue into her delicate, warm mouth. Her wet breasts heaved with desire. Her nipples pressed into his chiseled chest muscles. His cock grew inside of her. Her juices flowed while her pussy hugged him fiercely, quivering. Bruce withdrew himself as he held her perched on the edge of the tub. Wren shook her head.
Wait, darling! With one hand under her ass and the other on her hip, he knelt into the water and lapped at her tender nub.
Bruce!
You have the most heavenly pussy! With a raging hunger he lapped the full length of her, from her quivering asshole to her dripping pussy. Her legs shook. Bruce steadied them, petting her thighs, her knees, muttering softly.
Ah, my sweet. I’ve missed your taste, my beautiful, beautiful Wren.
Wren sighed as she tossed her head back while running her fingers through his hair. He thrust his tongue inside of her, twirling, sucking and licking her sweet cunt. She pressed her pussy into his face, into his rough whiskers, grinding against his chin while his tongue dove into her again and again. She locked her feet behind his head, fucking his mouth with her dripping cunt, drenching him with her musky juices. Bruce growled as he nipped at her swollen lips.
Please, Bruce! Her voice was rough and low inside his head, begging him with crazed passion. She clawed at his hair, sunk her nails into his neck.
Bruce stood, slicing his fat cock into her as water spilled over the sides of the tub.
A scream tore through her with the first powerful thrust. Bruce was so stunned by the reality of the heat, of the velvety clenching, the sublime, pure lust-he blinked and saw Wren sitting alone in the tub. He blinked again and was back inside her with one hand massaging her swollen clit, watching her glorious face as she careened into blinding ecstasy, smiling while crying and calling his name.
Bruce opened his eyes and found himself lying naked in the woods and alone, out of breath, his cock lying spent across his wet thigh.
~*~
Wren awoke the next morning with her head throbbing. She couldn’t remember finishing her bath or going to sleep for that matter, but she felt a new knot near her temple and guessed that her captor had hit her again. The other women were gone. She was wondering where they had been taken when her captor unlocked her cell and barged inside. He unlocked her shackles and pulled her to her feet.
“Time to burn, witch!”
“No!”
“Don’t fight me, hag! Quite a racket you were causing last night. Trying to conjure up a spell while you were in the tub, aye? And to think I felt sorry for you! All that spooky moaning!”
Wren stumbled forward when he pushed her out of her cell and up a flight of stone steps.
“The sooner you’re burned, the better. For all the town!”
Wren cried out when she missed the top step and fell onto one knee.
“Onward, witch! There’s a pile of kindling waiting for you!”
Wren shuddered as he pushed her into daylight. The sun hung low in the western sky. Glorious orange, magenta and lavender layers striped the horizon. She sniffed. Her last sunset. Today she would die. She was sure of it. She was convinced now that she had dreamed of Bruce and their lovemaking. She must have fallen asleep in the warm bath and cried out while dreaming of her lover. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she thought of his face. She knew she would never see him again, never feel his arms around her, never experience his love.
Her captor led her to the center of town where a large crowd waited. Wren scanned their faces, all of them blurred from tears swimming before her eyes. Her captor tossed her over his shoulder. Wren kicked and screamed to no avail. The man spanked her ass. The crowd howled with laughter.
“Die, witch die! Burn the witch!”
“Burn in hell, you hag!” Wren heard from a woman.
Then the crowd began to chant. “Burn, witch! Burn! Burn witch! Burn!”
Wren screamed and covered her ears while the man tied her to a wooden stake, bounding her at the waist and then her feet. Then he pulled her hands off of her ears and tied them behind her. She kept her eyes shut tight, screaming in vain.
The crowd grew louder as they moved closer, all of them anxious to see a witch burned at the stake. “Burn, witch! Burn! Burn witch! Burn!”
The man lit a massive torch and showed it to the crowd. A wild cheer ripped through the autumn air as he touched the torch to the first log, setting it ablaze. Wren screamed, flailing hopelessly as flames leapt up the tower of sticks, licking at her feet. Black smoke filled her lungs as it billowed in thick clouds, seeping through the cracks and piles of wood. She coughed and opened her eyes for half a second as smoke stung them. She resigned herself to her fate and began to pray fervently for a swift death.
Wren!
Flames licked at her calves. Wren screamed as pain shot through her.
Wren! Shift now!
Bruce! The pain! It’s unbearable!
Bruce could smell her flesh burning, reminding him of a love he once had in the heart of the jungle. They had killed her, cooked her and taken her from him. He wouldn’t allow it this time.
Shift, Wren! Now!
Wren focused, unsure if she was near death and hearing God or Bruce or both. She imagined herself as a lioness, remembering the last time she shifted and how it had felt. Flames licked at her knees. She shut off the pain and melted into herself, reaching for the past, reaching for her other half. Her muscles began to quiver. Silver sparks began to travel from her head and flit over her singed skin, mingling with the fire below, turning it electric blue. A surge of heat leapt forward, engulfing her trunk.
Wren screamed inside herself and forced herself to fight, to shift into a creature she despised. The crowd watched as strange sparkles of circular light swirled around the dying witch. Her head hung low. She appeared dead to her captor and the crowd when the ropes burst from her as she expanded in size. Her long hair quickly shortened and disappeared, looking as if it melted. The crowd gasped as her face grew. Her nose lengthened into a sandy colored muzzle. She had cast a spell for all to see. Before the frenzied sea of onlookers, a lioness roared to life, springing from the pile of sticks and flames like a nightmare intent on revenge. Her fangs and claws shone like sharp white daggers of death as animals leapt from the crowd. A lion, leopards, panthers and wolves sprung from out of nowhere. The crowd screamed and ran as the captor and his men aimed their pistols, all of them too stunned to shoot and too afraid they would injure onlookers.
An owl swooped down, clawing out the eyes of the captor, seconds before a male lion pounced on him, spilling the man’s blood onto his yellow fur with one mighty crushing blow to his neck. Wolves took down the other two armed men as the crowd separated and fled to their homes. The lion searched through the chaos looking for her, sniffing the air. He found her almost instantly, licking her wounds near the edge of the woods. He sprinted to her, nuzzling her, licking her face, wrapping his giant paws around her lovely neck.