The Adventures of Grim Dark and Noble Bright: The She-Wolves of HighPass Ridge- Part 1

    The wind howled a banshee’s wail, whipping up torrents of frost and drowning out the crunch of snow beneath steel sabatons. Sir Reynald cursed his luck, wearing full plate in the midst of an early winter storm.  His wolfskin cloak was drawn about himself, but the layer seemed thin and paltry. It did nothing to stop the winds from cutting through cloak, armor, and underclothes to bite at his skin, piercing it down to the very bone. Metal was not exactly the kind of wear one usually wanted in defense of the cold, but Sir Reynald did not expect to be in the midst of the raging storm.

    The figure beside him faltered, “I can’t feel my legs…” he said, only barely audible over the gale.  “Steel yourself, Ingram,” snapped Reynald, snow matting his black hair. Though only twenty six years of age, he wore the look of a man much older. “We must make it back to-”

    Sir Reynald never had the chance to finish telling Ingram where they must get back to, for a piercing howl tore through the gale, cutting even deeper than the cold that threatened to freeze their limbs solid. The howl caused Reynald’s heart to leap into his throat, and his stomach to tie itself into knots. “The enemy is upon us…” he whispered, though he doubted if Ingram was paying any attention. “Chief God save our souls.”

    They saw it’s eyes before anything else. A pale blue, shining with an evil light as it emerged out of the storm, as if it were formed by the very snow it trod upon. It wore the form of a nubile young female, with heavy breasts and smooth skin. The only parts of its skin that was not flawless were the parts covered instead by a stark white fur, the same color as it’s hair. Ingram collapsed into the snow, but Reynald clasped the freezing handle of his sword tightly. He felt his hands grow even colder as his grip squeezed warm blood out of his freezing appendages. “If there is any mercy in the Chief God,” he prayed as he watched the wolf thing circle around him, a gleeful expression etched onto its face. Reynald could see the points of her fangs, somehow even whiter than the snow. “Then let mine blade be true,” he continued. “Or let my soul to rest…”

    His other hand came to his longsword, and Reynald lowered himself into a fighting stance. A giggle, wickedly playful emanated from the wolf demon. “Mercy? Oh, you need not pray to some frigid god for that.” stated the wolf, who continued to circle the knight. “Just lay down that big sword and I will show you a delicious mercy the likes of which you can’t begin to fathom~”

    Reynald glared. “I look forward to cutting your blasphemous tongue from your head.” he retorted. His stance was practiced, hoping the cold would not dull his senses or slow his reflexes. The giggle came again, “Oh there are much more delightful things I could do with my tongue. I can show you if you’re so eager to have it~” the demon cackled. Reynald’s hardened expression grew even harder. He said nothing more to incite the demon to reply, intending to end the conversation at the point of his sword.

    The white wolf continued to circle around the knight still, and Reynald answered by moving his feet to remain square with the demonic canine. It was the monster that lunged first, crouching down then bounding wide towards Reynald, aiming to knock him off balance. Reynald, a seasoned fighter, was expecting this. He took a wide swing with his sword, trying to bisect the demon with the first blow. The demon twisted in midair, angling its dive away from the countering knight.
    The frost wolf landed skidding in the snow, sending up a small sheet of snow as it came to a halt. It turned and bounded after Reynald again, this time on foot. It’s claws raked against the frozen ice of the snow blanketed ground as it gained a great amount of speed in only a few bursts. Reynald lunged forward, attempting to use the demon’s own speed to impale it on the point of his sword. At the last second, the demon dog feinted right, and leaped left over to the left. Reynald fell for the feint, and cut his sword right, only to realize the demon’s deception, and sacrificed his footing to lash out with his metal sabaton. His efforts were rewarded as he felt his plated foot connect with something light, but hard.

    The demon gave a cry of pain, leaping back. It howled that piercing howl again, before charging in a zig-zag pattern toward the knight. Her movements were primal, powerful, but unfocused. Reynald was a trained fighter, as the many scars on his body could attest. Reynald readied his sword to slice in either direction, but the snow wolf bounded right over his head, launched by a powerful leap. Reynald timed his blade swing, and cut his sword right, but did not stop. He spun in the snow and felt the wolf scream as his blade bit deep. Once again, Reynald had sacrificed his footing, but the gamble had paid off. Blood spattered across the snow and the demon reeled away, allowing the knight to regain his composure. Reynald only needed a second.

    The knight advanced on the wounded demon, his wide, arcing swings causing the wolf to retreat, forcing the demon to even desperately roll away from the timed swings as Sir Reynald did not relent in his attack. Downward he stabbed, again and again, each time finding his blade to sink into only snow as the wolf desperately tried to avoid impalement. The demon was faster probably even stronger, but the human was vastly more experienced. Still, it seemed that Reynald was tiring, and the wolf was not. Even wounded as it was, the demon laughed at the dance, as if they were playing some sort of game.

    His blows came slower and slower, and each time the wolf had a fraction more of a second to recover. Soon, the wolf was getting back to its knees in time to roll away. It wouldn’t be long before the demon would be able to gain a solid footing and start to push back.

    Reynald spun around in a full circle, letting the momentum of a two handed horizontal swing carry him around into a second attack. Only Reynald had let one of his hands go. His free hand went to his belt, and grasped the dagger held there. In a desperate bid, he judged which way the wolf would dodge his followup attack, and then loosed the dagger at the intended spot. He was rewarded, by another cry of pain from the demon wolf. He had thrown his dagger true, and the hilt of his blade now stuck out of the white wolf’s ankle. Fresh blood stained the snow beneath them red, and for the first time, the demon stopped laughing. She looked up at the knight now with fear. Her ankle would not support any weight, and so she tried to scoot away before the knight could be upon her. She looked up at Reynald, who was slowly walking toward her with apparent fear in her eyes.

“L-Look, don’t do anything unreasonable, here!” she said, “I was only going to-”

“Save it.” Reynald said, cutting her off. “I am not interested in the words of a demon.” Her hand went to her mouth, his threat to her tongue from earlier ringing out in her mind. “No,” the knight said, “I am not going to dismember you, disfigure you, or otherwise cause you pain.” he said with a calm, if rather cold, tone. The demon seemed to relax, but immediately tensed up as she saw Reynald raise his sword. “I am merely going to save you.”

    There were only a few frantic syllables uttered in a desperate attempt to plead before the knight’s sword entered the demon between the neck and shoulder, silencing her forever after.

    There was a long silence that followed, the sounds of the storm not even registering to the knight who stared long and hard at the demon before him. There was no release of hellfire, no sudden combustion into ash. No portal to the hells opened to drag her soul back, no demonic voice cursed him for his deeds. There was nothing but the frozen snow, and the corpse of a young girl with white wolf ears and icy blue eyes. That’s all it ever was. Another corpse.

    Stoically, Reynald walked back to where his companion had fell, not even feeling the cold anymore. The brown cloak of his companion was almost completely covered with snow, so much that the knight almost missed it laying on the ground. Reynald knelt before Ingram, and turned the other man over. Ingram’s eyes were closed, though Reynald could not tell if the fallen knight’s breathing was just shallow, instead of gone, so heavy was the wind.

    Just then, dozens of howls pierced the storm, a demonic cacophony that made Reynald spring back to his feet, sword at the ready. All around him, more than two dozen twin pinpricks of burning blue light appeared.

“Chief God save me…”


    “My point is that most monsters seem happier than humans.” said Bright as he walked along the frozen road. The air blew about him in frozen fury, as if protesting his very presence. It whipped flurries of seething snow at him, but Bright walked on with a cheery smile on his face. The paladin only felt a pleasantly cool breeze through his shirt, even though it was matted with sweat and should have, by any other account, have long since frozen solid. His chain shirt hung around him, and his blue cape of a cloak trailed in the snow behind him. The load was not heavy, as Bright’s muscles has long grown accustomed to it’s weight to the point where he felt kind of naked when he wore lighter clothing. This was opposed to the feeling of being fully naked when he spent his nights with his wife. Perhaps he was lucky that the feeling of being naked was never the forefront of his thoughts during these times, as his mind was usually completely focused on something else.
        Unfortunately, the weather did not seem to be focusing on anything except the travelers, throwing everything short of a blizzard at them in a frustrated fury. The metal rings of Bright’s chain armor should have frozen to the blue linen underneath for how cold it was, but still the paladin seemed to be unaffected. He trudged onward, carrying a towering shield in one hand, and carrying his dulled metal half helm in the other. His cropped brown hair hung unkempt about his head, matted with sweat; a result of growing too hot. Normally, being too hot wouldn’t be a problem in the middle of the frozen north, but for Bright, it was a very common occurrence.
        “Well, duh. They’re literally meant to be that way. Monsters are fueled by demonic magic and experience pleasure beyond anything that humans are able to feel. Of course they’re all going to be happier when all they live for is to find a husband, then fuck for a few millenia until they die.” answered Grim in a flat tone as she walked beside Bright.
        She was dressed in far less armor, and indeed, far less anything, though that did not mean she was less protected. Her scales ran the contours of her body, over her hands, rather like the Salamanders. Her feet were similarly reptilian in appearance, covered up to her knees in scales. Her toes were long, black claws, and they traced deep gouges in the soft earth as the snow melted upon her passing. With every step, the white snow retreated as if the demon’s touch were agony, rendering the ground below a sloppy, wet mess. Grim was getting rather annoyed at the buildup of mud beneath her claws, and did not look forward to chipping it all out when it dried.
        While Bright only barely felt the cold, Grim did not feel it at all. Despite being dressed so scantily that she could have easily passed for the kind of dancer that gets paid to do more than dance, she trudged along as the storm raged impotently around her, unable to give her even the slightest chill. Grim bore no weapons, unless you counted the claws at her fingertips, making her hands look strangely long and wickedly spider-like. She had blades of red bone coming from her wrists, and her head bore a myriad of sadistic looking horns. As she talked, her supple lips revealed a maw of teeth filed to a razor’s edge. Teeth that led some people more familiar with Grim and Bright to question the sanity of the paladin for his decision to do some of the things he was known to do with Grim and her mouth full of knives. Like kiss her without the protection of a full helm and several strong enchantments.
        A black leather bustier covered her chest, but only barely. A tiny black silk bikini bottom covered her shame from the world, though only technically. While it did objectively cover Grim’s sex from view, the garment only seemed to tease and tantalize by accentuating the curves as lingerie is known to do, enticing anyone who would look upon it rather than discourage them undressing her with their eyes. Of course, anyone actually caught trying was usually dissuaded by other parts of Grim’s anatomy. Mostly, it was the aforementioned claws, blades, horns, and teeth, which were more often than not accompanied by explosions, fire, and explosive fire. The particular privilege of undressing Grim, with his eyes or any other appendage of his choosing, only belonged to one. Though much to her dismay, Bright never quite took advantage of it near as much as Grim would have liked.
        Despite many assurances from Grim that privileges were made to be taken advantage of, Bright never fully quite grasped the concept. So, it was after another morning of the couple waking up, Grim doing her best to sumptuously put on her two pieces of clothing, and Bright doing an amazing job of being just thickheaded enough to completely and utterly miss her intentions, did the couple now find themselves walking the road to Highpass Ridge. Bright made his best small talk, while Grim sulked and debated the pros and cons of just ripping off his chain shirt and taking him there in the snow.

    “At least monsters don’t kill.” Bright said as he walked alongside his demonic wife’s side. “Oh yes,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Killing’s far worse than stripping away all of what you are until you’re nothing more than her ideal servant, a drugged up fuck puppet, raising the young she birthed from your stolen seed.”
“At least the men enjoy it.” Bright said. He was not unfamiliar with the joys and pleasures a demonic mate could bring, and his opinion was that even an unwilling husband was much better than death.

    “Because they are made to.” Grim said coldly, “What part of ‘drugged’ did you not get?” Grim said, and Bright looked at her. “Surely the love for a child, even one born of rape, is not entirely chemical in nature?” the paladin asked in a soft tone.
Grim did not answer immediately. “Maybe. Maybe not.” she finally said after she’d felt the silence had drawn on for too long. Bright waited for her to continue.  “One can’t ever really know unless you find a way to take away the demon energy.” the red demon said after she collected her thoughts.
“Because that’s what it does,” she continued, “It can take the hardest, most hateful and violent man, and turn him into a meek, doting fool of a husband that lives only for his wife’s whims. It strips away everything the demon doesn’t want and leaves only what she desires, which she then shapes into her perfect ideal. Are you really so certain that such a fate is better, only because what is left finds some happiness in it’s predicament? Personally, I’d rather die quick and clean, instead of living as the mold someone else felt I should be.”

    “At least there is some measure of happiness.” Bright said, then turned his head to look away. “The alternative is not always so quick. Or so clean.” As a former paladin of The Order, Bright knew all too well the horrors and atrocities committed by humans in the name of the Chief God. They were among the primary reasons for Bright’s excommunication. Still other reasons were the haunting fact that such things were not always committed to demons, but to fellow humans who dared associate with them.

    Grim, for all her inherent irritability and general predisposition for disdain, recognized the silence and the lost expression in Bright’s eyes. She reached out to her side, placing her clawed hands gently across her husband’s chain mailed shoulders. “Not all humans are such monsters.” she said in an uncharacteristically soft tone. Bright smiled, looking back at her. “And not all monsters are such humans.”

    Grim’s gentle smile vanished as she just stared blankly at the ex paladin. “…What?” she asked incredulously. Bright shook his head, still smiling. “Nothing. I was trying to be clever.” he said, stepping forward to close the distance between them. The couple embraced, hugging each other tightly and tilting their heads to kiss. Their lips met, and Grim relished in her husband’s taste while Bright enjoyed the warmth of her skin and scales. Bright’s hands moved to caress her exposed back, causing Grim to give a visible shudder as she melted under the slight, ticklish brush of the paladin’s fingers along her skin. She gave a small groan before she could stop herself, her back arcing involuntarily to press her front against him.  
    It wasn’t as if Grim was averse to the prospect of pressing her breasts against her husband, it was only a matter of choosing. Grim was a demon of wrath, a monster from the depths of Hell. A Hell of fire and brimstone, of torment and endless suffering from a time before the Demon Lord had changed the nature of demons. Grim was among the last of demons to have felt the change, her features becoming soft and alluring while retaining their strength and power. Still, whether soft and alluring or towering and terrifying. Whether she obtained her spirit energy from ripping apart souls with her bare claws or in the throes of passion with her husband, Grim was a prideful creature. If she was going to press her breasts against anything, she would do it of her own accord. To be forced to groan and her body to press itself against her husband needfully was to be in a position Grim did not feel entirely comfortable with. Her pride took offense at her acting like a schoolgirl with a crush instead of the wrathful demon she truly was. Respect, her pride told her. That was the key of it. What respect was there in acting like an animal in heat?

    The ex paladin laughed as Grim attempted to break the hug, recompose herself, and shoot him an indignant glare all at once. Bright let go, smiling as Grim turned around, crossing her arms. “Don’t just touch me like that!” she snapped, more out of frustration than anger. The paladin always seemed to know exactly how to nfuriate her. All morning, she had been trying to get a rise out of him. She had shot him sultry looks all morning, hoping for a quick romp before they set out, but Bright seemed to mistake them for mere smiles. She’d tried to get him while they got dressed, bending in ways that were not strictly necessary while she donned her two pieces of clothing. Bright still hadn’t noticed, too busy with his own armor. She wanted to watch him flush with arousal, teasing him until they were both heated enough that Grim would have pushed him down and ridden his cock as if she were a rampaging mutant lizard and Bright’s pelvis was an unsuspecting coastal metropolis.

    Now, Bright had made her groan with only the slightest touch, and the loss of control sent flashes of indignation coursing through Grim like fire in her veins. She silently glared at the paladin. For his part, Bright smiled back at the grumpy demon. “What? You don’t like me touching you?” he asked with a teasing air. Grim gritted her teeth, her fangs evident. “That is not the point.” she said. Bright shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well. If you don’t want me touching you, I shall just keep my hands to myself.” he said, fully aware that it was not, in fact, the point.

    Grim have a low growl before throwing her arms down in concession. “Ugh, you know that touching is okay…” she admitted. She enjoyed his touch, there was no secret about it, though she did not know that Bright perhaps enjoyed their nightly liaisons even more than she did. They were lovers, married by demon standards, and both paladin and demon did not want to think about a single night away from one another.

    Surely, Grim was the more lascivious of the two, a consequence of her demonic nature, but Bright reveled in the pleasures of his wife to such an extent that were he still part of The Order, he would have been deemed heretical. Bright knew better than to even try to withhold sex from his wife,  for even though he had once taken a vow of chastity as a paladin, and would no doubt win in a contest of who could go the longest without it, he would not enjoy such abstinence. Indeed, he would relish the day that Grim’s nature overcame her reason, and the ravenous hunger for spirit energy, her husband’s spirit energy, would spur her to push him down and ravage him until they were both satiated.

    “I should certainly hope so.” Bright said in retort, still beaming a smile. He reached out to brush a bit of hair from Grim’s face. “You just try to stop me…” he challenged with a confident smirk, an expression which caused a smile to spread across the demon’s face. “No matter how grumpy you get.” he continued. “Now, what say we go ahead and get on to-”    Unfortunately, Bright never had the chance to finish telling Grim where they ought to have gotten on to, as the paladin’s boot had caught something in the snow. He toppled over into the melting snow, the cold and wet piercing through the magical aura of Grim’s protective magics. The demoness rushed over to help the paladin up, but they both froze as solid as the ice when they saw what had caused Bright’s trip.

It was half-buried in the snow, as stark white as the powder they trod upon. The frozen corpse, of a white wolf girl, her icy blue eyes gazing silently upward.

    The sun dipped low to kiss the Horizon, and the wintery air bit through even Grim’s demonic protections against it with a harsh chill. The land itself seemed bleaker with the coming of darkness, and Bright kept at his work with a stoic determination. It had taken most of the rest of the day to dig the hole he now stood in, almost six feet deep. Periodically, Bright would stop, climb out of the hole, and Grim would send waves of fire pouring into the hole to melt the frozen earth below into a slurry of mud and rock. Then, Bright would hop back down and use his helmet and his hands to sling the slurry out of the hole before it re-froze. It was slow going, even with the couple’s defenses against the cold.

    Bright, however, was diligent. Their work was soon done as the paladin judged the hole deep enough. Weary, his muscles aching, Bright hoisted himself out of the hole and moved to the frozen corpse of the wolf girl, but stumbled. Grim caught him, and steadied him. “Easy.” she said, righting him up. “I’ll do it, you rest.”

    Grim moved to the corpse, and breathed a soft plume of fire over the wolf’s corpse. Not enough to burn the skin, but enough to unfreeze the body from the ground. She scooped up the sodden body, and gently lowered the white wolf into the ground. Bright watched with a grim look on his face as his wife moved to inhume the body. He moved to help her pile the frosty dirt back onto the grave. despite her look of protest. Grim knew better than to try to dissuade her husband. She knew he would not rest until the task was complete. “Do we have anything to mark the grave?” she asked him. Bright looked around, then back to Grim. “That boulder. Let’s move it.” he said, pointing to a snow-covered lump off of the path.

    Bright attempted to help, but it was Grim’s sheer strength that rolled the snow-covered boulder over to serve as the headstone of their makeshift grave. The scraping of stone was drowned out by the howling wind as Grim used her claws to etch out an epitaph. “May this lost soul wander no more, and find rest and peace ever on.” Bright said, reading aloud from an old tome he tried his best to protect from the wind. It was an old dusty prayer book, with over half of its pages ripped out. Grim finished carving the inscription, a prayer to the fallen stranger. “I still don’t know why you carry that thing around.” Grim said as she finished her work, then moved beside her husband. “Didn’t you quit The Order?”

    Bright looked down at the tattered tome, “Not every prayer to the Chief God was without merit.” he answered. “The Chief God does not have a monopoly on faith, you know. Just because I don’t follow the teachings anymore, doesn’t mean I can’t pray.” Grim looked him over, then shrugged. “I suppose not.” she said, placing her clawed hands on his shoulder. “Come, my love.” she said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. “Let us leave this gloomy scene.” Bright reached up to place his hand over hers, and rose to his feet, rubbing her claws with his fingers. “Yes, let’s get on to Highpass.” The couple turned their backs on the grave, leaving the somber monument to bear silent witness to the grave of a white wolf girl.

    The night grew cold enough that the bitter winds took their revenge upon the couple for shrugging it off during the daylight. While Bright knew he would not freeze, it wasn’t from lack of trying on the part of the unrelenting north winds. His hands grew numb and painful, until Grim moved closer to take his hands in one of her claws, warming them with her touch alone. The moon was high into the air by the time a large black form loomed in the distance. “Finally,” Grim said, “Highpass Ridge.” The couple made their way before the portcullis of Highpass Castle, only to find it deserted. There were no guards, no lights, no nothing. Just a grate of heavy iron bars impeding their way.

    The couple looked at each other curiously, wondering if perhaps the white wolf corpse had been an even more macabre tiding than they had thought. Clouds that had hung heavy overhead suddenly cleared to make way for a full moon to shine brightly down upon them, illuminating what seemed like the entire castle. A dozen voices erupted in a unanimous cry, the howling of wolves. The couple looked at each other again, “Oh, for FUCK’s sake.” Grim said with her trademark air of annoyed impatience. She balled her claws into a heavy fist and beat them upon the iron grate, rattling what seemed like the entire castle wall. Bright moved to place his hands on his wife’s shoulder, but she did not relent. “They’re fucking…” she said flatly, “There’s no one to let us in because they’re too busy fucking…”

    “Full moon tonight.” Bright said, looking up at the shining orb in the sky. “Odd kind of thing for this time of the month.” the paladin mused. Grim continued to glare, then reached out to grasp the iron bars between her claws. Bright saw her muscles strain as she started to attempt to lift the grate, no doubt intending to rip it out of their path, before a white form came into view. She was naked, but for the white fur of her paws on her legs and arms. Her legs glistened with dripping sexual fluids, her breasts perked and the couple had little doubt that it was not the cold that made her pink nipples stand on end. She meandered forward a bit, though still far out of range. “We don’t usually get visitors this time of night…” she said. Bright noted subtle tones of annoyance in her voice. The paladin stepped closer, thankful that his wife had relented on her attempt to rip the grate aside. “We apologize for our inconvenient timing, we would have been here earlier but for an unfortunate circumstance that delayed us. We are but weary travelers hoping to find a warm bed to escape these cold northern winds on our way through the Ridge.”

    The white wolf crossed her arms, her silvery hair tossing about as she sneered at them. “No one gets across the Ridge this time of year. It’s more than likely frozen over.” “Be that as it may,” answered Bright, “We can’t be dissuaded from our course unless we find out for ourselves, and we shan’t be making Highpass Ridge tonight. I implore you, Highpass Castle is known to be a welcome stop for the weary who make for the Ridge, would you turn us away in the dead of night to the freezing cold?”

    The white wolf rolled her eyes, “You seem to be handling it just fine.” she answered. She looked suspiciously at Grim, then gave a strange look at Bright.

“Only just,” answered Bright, “My wife and I are tired, and we seek something softer to lie on than the frozen ground. Or has Highpass Castle stopped being so open to travelers. We have gold.” Bright added. Castles were usually a lot more friendly to outsiders who brought the promise of foreign gold.

    “Your gold can’t buy back the time I could be fucking my husband under the light of the full moon, but am forced to waste dealing with two upstarts who come knocking in the middle of the Demon-Lord-damned night.” the wolf snapped, a chill glare coming across her face.

“Ah ah ah.” came a voice, soft and sweet, almost lyrical. Another white wolf, almost identical to the first if not for a clearly older age, breezed into the gateway. “Let us not be rude Sansel.” she said, placing a hand on the first wolf’s shoulder. She turned to the demon and the paladin, “Highpass has never made its way to turn away travelers.”

    The first wolfgirl made as if to protest, but seemed to freeze upon seeing the stern expression in the second wolf’s face. The one called Sansel nodded, then said “Yes, Alpha.” in a meek tone before moving away. The one addressed as Alpha moved to the iron bars, smiling at the couple. “You’ll have to forgive Sansel,” she said, “The full moon always puts us wolves on edge, and our gatekeeper has never had the… warmest of dispositions.”

Grim had remained silent, always letting Bright do the talking. She never liked mincing words, Grim was a demon of action. “Well met, miss Alpha.” the paladin said, “We thank you for your hospitality. As we told miss Sansel, we would not be intruding if we had not been delayed. My wife and I are very weary from the travels, and could use a rest.”

    “Not to mention a bath,” Grim piped up, still feeling the mud caked between her toe claws. “Please,” the wolf said affably, “Call me Zena. Only the wolves refer to me as Alpha.” Bright nodded, “As you say, Miss Zena. Though my wife is right, is there anywhere we can wash the dust of the road off?” The matronly wolf nodded with a smile, “But of course. You can use the spring baths below.” A loud grinding sound echoed around them as the iron bars of the portcullis raised up, unbarring the passage into Highpass Castle. Grim and Bright moved into the gateway, and Zena turned to lead them in. “You’re actually in luck,” the white wolf said before they moved too far. “Luck? Why is that?” asked Bright, following behind. “Because you’ll find the lower levels almost deserted.” the wolf answered. “Deserted?” Grim spoke up, knowing that most monsters could not resist spending a day with their husbands inside of a spring bath.  “Oh yes,” Zena said, “If there’s one things wolves love to enjoy…” her voice trailed off as she rounded the corner.

    The couple rounded where Zena did, coming into full view of the castle courtyard. The moonlight and several torches around the perimeter of the yard illuminated the sight of dozens of writhing bodies. It was a venerable orgy of wolves on top of a layer of naked men. Bodies undulated and gyrated to a chorus of lascivious moans. Wolves both young and aged vied for position on top of the men, who were fed a bluish white milky substance from bowls tipped to their lips. “…It’s fucking under a full moon.” Zena completed her sentence, a wry grin across her face.

    “Fucking wolves.” said Grim, a scowl upon her face as she sat on the edge of one of the spring baths, a square hole cut into the stone floor of the lowest level of Castle Highridge. Steam wafted up from the water, a natural hot spring that always served as a welcome respite to travelers who passed through. “Well, yes.” Bright answered with a grin, washing his hair, “I do believe they were.” Grim shot her husband an unamused glance, “You’re not funny.”

Bright shrugged. “Well,” he said, “At least she was right. We have the baths to ourselves.” Grim set to trying to wash the mud from her claws and her feet, “True, I can only imagine how annoying even getting clean would be if I had to listen to the wolves fucking all the while.”

    “It’s not so bad, is it?” Bright asked. “Just husbands and wives enjoying the full moon. Even if the full moon brings an increased libido in wolves.”

“And daughters.” Grim said flatly. Bright looked away, “Well, yes.” Neither Grim nor Bright were unaccustomed to the demonic tradition of incestuous relationships, but Bright never found he liked the taste. He would never presume to tell anyone else that it was wrong, as he vowed to never let his personal feelings dictate someone else’s life. He’d seen too much of that in The Order, and as such accepted the practice as a foreign tradition that he just did not want to be a part of. “But still, happy families having fun together, is that so wrong?”

    Grim did not look up as she attempted to clean the mud between her feet. “I’m not so sure. I don’t trust Zena, and I’d be very interested to see what that blue milk was.” Bright blinked, “The Alpha? She was nothing but accommodating, and really, what demon do you know that wouldn’t use a stamina potion on a particularly rambunctious night?” Grim did not look up, the tension in  her face increasing as she tried to pick the mud from between her toes, but was unsuccessful with her claws. “You can’t possibly be that naive. Something feels off, and you know it.” Her muscles began to tremble, agitation evident on her face. “I don’t like the way that gatekeeper was looking at you-DAMMIT ALL TO HELL.” she yelled, throwing up her claws in frustration, and letting her feet sink back into the water. Bright moved over to his frustrated wife’s side.

    “My dearest Grim.” he said, moving his hands to take her foot and lift it out of the water. “You’re tired. Stressed from the long road.” The paladin moved his nimble fingers between the demon’s clawed feet, and steadily removed the caked mud. “I’m certain you’ll feel better in the morning.” Grim smiled, her fangs poking out over her lips as she looked into Bright’s radiant eyes. His touch eased the tension out of her muscles and her emotions, and she gave a deep sigh as she enjoyed the massage. Only rarely was the opportunity for this kind of attention reasonable, and they had been walking for so long. The deeper muscles of Grim’s feet, taught and cramped from bearing her considerable weight so many miles, melted under her husband’s attentions, and she giggled at the slight tickle his fingers sent through her. “A night of rest will do you wonders.” Bright said with a smile. She looked down, then tilted her eyes back up toward Bright, “You really have no idea.”

    Bright gently dug his fingers deep between her toe claws, and pressed onto the taught muscles, causing Grim to jump a bit in surprise. She had not expected the rush of ticklish release as Bright manually stretched muscles she had not had a chance to rest in days. He pressed the arch of her foot, and continued his ministrations up her legs until he reached her thigh. Then he dropped her foot back into the water, and picked up the other one to mirror his affections onto the second appendage.

     Grim grew anxious, and she maneuvered her free foot to brush along Bright’s crotch. Her scales were smooth and warm. They weren’t the softest part of her, but her touch was gentle, and she felt a sense of satisfaction well within her as the flesh stiffened under her feather-light touch. She never had any doubt her husband’s desire for her, but the physical, undeniable proof of it, sent a shiver of pride to mingle with the shivers of pleasure Bright was sending through her nerves.

    “Sit.” she said, gently pushing him back by placing her foot on his abdomen. She guided him to the other end of the pool, then slid into the water as graceful as a serpent. She glided through the water over to him, then sank below the surface, her red horns poking out above the water like a demonic shark’s fin. Bright watched the horns get close enough to almost poke him under the chin, then they sank down a bit. A warm softness enveloped his stiffened cock, as Grim took his full length into her mouth.

    Bright gave a sigh, leaning back on the edge of the pool and relaxing fully. He could not help but arc his back a little, pressing the tip of his cock into her throat. Grim took it in stride. She knew his movements, as she had tasted of him many a time. She anticipated his arcing, and pressed herself down to take the head of his length into the soft confines of her throat. She did not change her pace, though. She glided her lips along his shaft in a steady, slow rhythm. She did love to torture him so, and she loved to prolonge the taste of Bright for as much as she could. She lost count of how long she was under. With her eyes closed, her ears muffled by the water, time seemed an inconsequential thing with the taste she so loved filling her mouth, and it was not like the demon of wrath needed to breathe as much as a human. She remained latched onto Bright’s member, lightly dragging her claws along his thighs, keeping his legs held open even as her agonizingly slow pace caused Bright to instinctively try to close them.

    Above the water, the paladin was whimpering and moaning as the fire in his loins continued to burn with a delicious agony. He wanted release, but Grim would not let him, not so soon. Her weight was on his lap, holding him down, the electric jolts in his spine caused him to thrash a bit, trying to close his legs as if to get a bit of a reprieve from the tongue lashing, but she held his legs wide, keeping her slow pace. Bright panted, more tense than he was when he entered the bath, before after what seemed like an eternity, Grim lifted out of the water with a devious grin. Warm, comforting water enveloped his length, like a hot compress to ease his burning nerves. It served to calm him a bit, bringing him back from the edge of his orgasm.

    Grim gave him a devious smile, before he felt the barest touch of her claw tickle underneath his cock head, and he was pushed right back over the edge. She had caught him off guard, and Bright doubled over at the powerful sensation of his delayed onset orgasm. “Oh, you bitch…” he said in a trembling voice as his seed clouded the water they stood in, the paladin gripping the edge of the pool with shaking hands as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. Grim laughed. “Oh, don’t be surprised. You know it’s good for my skin.” she said coyly. She thought it was a good excuse. Bright’s orgasm would have infused the water with his spirit energy, making the bath all that more rejuivenative for her.
    Still, the demon was not without heart. She guided him to sit down in the bath again, then straddled him. Her naked form pressed against him so had an instant effect of Bright, who’s member started to re-harden almost instantly. Grim pressed herself against him, “See? You’ve still got some in you, Sir Bright~” she cooed into his ear before she gave him a playful nip on his earlobe. Bright looked back with a grin of his own, “Always, when you want to press against me like that, heheh.” he retorted, putting his hands on her hips and guiding his length inside of her lower sex.

    Grim rode her husband gently, mindful of his sore muscles, and more than willing to take the lead with the waters of the bath so invigorating her with the spirit energy of her husband. It was another hour before the couple slid out of the soiled bathwater, but feeling both clean and refreshed. They gathered their clothes, and made their way back to the assigned quarters Zena had let them use.

All the while they had not noticed the twin pinpricks of pale blue light watching them, hidden within a shadow.

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