Enough ti had passed that Amara now noticed a small shift in the atmosphere. The base of the tree had been thinly illuminated by tiny droplets of luminescent, lunar rain, whereas her current surroundings were slightly more visible. Flecks of unusual liquid light decorated nearly every surface around her, almost as if it had just rained. The extra light made her aware that a small canopy of branches and leaves now hung rather close to the surface of the climbing tree, just far enough away to impede anyone not climbing the tree. Thinking back to her initial flight through this clearing, she rembered nothing of sort, and wondered if the clearing itself had been altered to prevent creatures like her from simply flying over the tree.
Nevertheless, the extra light made it easier to see that the tree was beginning to curve inward. This angle was much more friendly to her climbing efforts, and optimism flooded her veins as she tried to take full advantage of the faerie’s absence.
It wasn’t long before even more light began falling from above her. At first, she wondered if this might be so kind of strange weather phenonon, but the faerie’s ominous last words hovered in the back of her mind. Amara quickly realized that this light fell much slower than the liquid it supposedly was, and it twinkled as it drifted peacefully through the air. A burst of cold air swept down from above, causing Amara to shiver as she cursed the lack of warmth in the clothes Saoirse had given her. It was when she inadvertently placed a hand in a small pile of twinkling light that her fears were confird; it was snowing.
This has to be the faerie’s doing. She even ntioned the fire inside , so maybe she’s trying to wear down? If she knows I don’t have access to my inner fire, a sudden winter storm would certainly suck.
Sure enough, the next ti Amara’s periphery vanished from an errant blink, the faerie reappeared. Her generous curves remained, though her colorful pixie-cut hair was now longer and fuller, even glowing sowhat in the presence of this strange semi-frozen light. With a devious smirk and playful wink, the faerie happily drizzled a pile of snow across her body, the sparkling lights drawing even more attention to her generous curves.
“Gosh, weather sure is unpredictable, isn’t it?” the faerie asked, barely hiding a smirk. “Hopefully it won’t be too difficult to withstand a bit of snow without all your hellish abilities!”
As if on cue, another blast of cold air raced down from above, only this ti it seed to permanently alter the air around Amara. The temperature dropped considerably, and Amara shivered as she reached for the next ledge. Frustratingly, she found it covered in a thin layer of ice. The next ledge had the sa problem, as did the third, and she was ultimately forced to reach for an uncomfortably far handhold to avoid grabbing fresh ice.
“I-I’ve been c-cold before,” Amara muttered, failing to hide her shivering body. “You’ve c-clearly never lived t-through a Chicago winter.”
The faerie pouted, her bottom lip quivering with emotion as snowlight danced across it. “Aww, but surely it’s not fun to be so cold? Imagine how warm it would be to give in, to dine on the finest arousal you’ve ever experienced. You wouldn’t just find strength in my pleasure, there’s an endless wellspring of emotions you’ve never felt, seasons you’ve never slled, sights you’ve never tasted, and they’re all just waiting for you.” Another playful laugh echoed through the clearing, this one reflecting off the countless lightflakes to create a dreadfully eerie soundscape of frozen iridescence.
The faerie turned around once more, positioning herself on her knees before falling forward so her shoulders pushed against the tree. Her deliciously curvy ass now rested a re handful of inches from Amara’s face, and she watched with intense desire as the faerie moved her fingers back to her entrance. Once again slick with spit, she spread her pussy open to show off her sparkling entrance, then pushed a finger inside.
Her sex accepted her finger with delight, pulsing with desire with each consecutive knuckle that disappeared. Amara failed to tear her eyes away, watching with fascination at just how tight the faerie’s sex appeared to be.
“Think of the warmth, my demonic friend,” the faerie whispered. “Not just the warmth of my arousal, but the warmth of my body.”
Teeth chattering, Amara forced herself to look away. Loathe as she was to admit it, in this mont, she was intensely aware of her tiny connection to her inner fire. Every thought of resistance was t with the slight numbing sensation in her hands; the cold was perating her body far too quickly. Every desire to rebuke the advances of her host felt uncomfortably brittle in the wake of her clothing, which did very little to ward off the snow that piled up on her back.
“I’m s-s-sure it’s wonderful, but I’m afraid I have to d-d-decline,” Amara muttered, her breath crystallizing the instant it left her mouth.
Her climb continued. She managed another minute without directly looking at the faerie’s deliciously tantalizing body, all while focusing on the next ledge, the next transfer of weight. In spite of the cold, the angle of the tree continued to change, ever so slightly favoring Amara most and more. Her body ached, her freezing fingers scread in protest of the snow covering them, and on several occasions the thin leather shoes she’d been given slipped as she attempted to grab new handholds.
The endless wall of bark that ford the side of this fallen tree, as beautiful as it was while covered with sparkling snowlight, gradually blended together to form a monotonous canvas of nature. That thought in particular helped buy her several minutes of distraction; the idea that even endless, impossible beauty could grow bland and uninteresting when not contrasted with sothing mundane.
Strangely, as if the faerie was sohow listening to her thoughts, the darkness above her soon gave way to a massive, inverted knot in the tree. The wood and bark warped in unusual ways as it twisted inward, creating a small cave-like structure in which Amara’s host now rested.
Well, rested was hardly the right word. She was settled on her knees next to the edge, her hips excitedly gyrating against nothing in particular as she held aloft another strange piece of fruit. This one appeared to be the sa size and texture as a cucumber, but had the color of dull scarlet. The ends of this fruit also flared in a suspiciously familiar way, leaving Amara to wonder if this was a natural creation or simply sothing willed into existence for the purpose of teasing Amara.
With a single, effortless motion, the faerie moved this fruit to her mouth and nearly swallowed it whole. She gripped the end tight, pushing the entire length down her throat, causing the outside of her neck to bulge out. The faerie swallowed once, twice, three tis as if this fruit was genuinely sothing that desired fellation, and once Amara climbed within a foot of the opening, the faerie pulled the fruit out with a gasp.
“Ohhh, that’s the good stuff!” she moaned. She moved both hands back to the fruit and started rubbing her saliva into it, the oily texture shimring in the snowlights. “This is a particularly potent fruit; I can taste the juices just by making contact with the exterior. It tastes just like the first ti I let myself be intimate with soone else!”
“A f-fruit that tastes like virginity?” Amara asked, forcing a smile. “Pretty interesting, but I’m m-m-more interested in that little alcove of yours. Any c-c-chance I might join you for a small rest?”
“Ohh, I’m so sorry, love!” the faerie moaned dramatically. “I consider this little opening as an extension of my ho, and I only share it with intimate partners. Though, I suppose I might be willing to make a trade, if you were truly desperate for a break after all that climbing…”
“Let g-guess, you want this bottle?”
“Hmm, I don’t know…” the faerie muttered, moving the fruit to the surface underneath her. She arched her hips, aid the bulbous, shimring tip at her sex, and sank downwards with a sensual gasp. Even more dazzling, dripping oil began to coat the fruit, and for a brief mont, Amara actually tasted a hint of the first ti she fucked Nick back in her apartnt. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you’re not giving it up, and I’m always fond of introducing new twists to my gas. For instance, the fact that your powers were able to be sealed away tells you’re no average demon. Either you’re incredibly powerful, or you’re perhaps so kind of fascinating mixed creature, a child of both worlds. Is that correct?”
Amara almost lost the conversation as she watched the faerie piston herself up and down on the fruit. Her sex quivered each ti it spread open, and Amara longed for the chance to replace that fruit with her tail. “That’s… partially correct, yes. My existence is slightly more complicated than most other demons.”
Hopefully that’s vague enough to satisfy her curiosity.
“Oooh, that’s the stuff, yes, right there…,” the faerie gasped as she fucked herself against the fruit. “I’ll tell you what, if you agree to forfeit your mory of the mont you discovered you were a demon, I’ll allow you a chance to rest in this little hovel of mine!”
The offer was not at all what Amara had expected, and, in her surprise, she inadvertently grabbed a patch of ice and lost her grip. The ledge underneath her right foot snapped from the strain, and her stomach dropped in fear as she began sliding down. She tried reaching out for every ledge she could, panicking more and more as she watched them break under the strain. That feeling of weightlessness terrified her; she imagined herself plumting down the entire face of the tree, landing on the hard ground below and losing not only her chance at saving Nick, but also her own life.
Her inner fire called out to her. It begged to be made whole again, to be given a chance to save her life. With each snapped ledge, each burst of snow and bark that clouded her vision, she ca closer and closer to surrendering to that temptation.
Then she imagined Nick, sowhere at Aurelius, terrified of the monster he was about to beco. This was all for him, wasn’t it?
She refused to give up, to damn him to an eternity of enslavent to so lycanthropic curse. Freezing cold air flooded her lungs as she took a deep breath and slamd her hand down on the tree. Pain shot through her fingers as they dug into the wood, finding purchase on a thick sheet of bark. Warmth briefly flooded her fingertips, and as much as she wanted to believe the feeling was simply adrenaline, the pain that followed told her she’d likely ripped off several of her fingernails.
In spite of it all, she’d succeeded at stopping herself. Weight returned to her, the clearing quieted down, and she looked around to try and figure out how far she’d fallen.
Thankfully, ti had dilated in her favor. The fall, despite feeling like a hopeless eternity of freefall, only left her about a dozen feet beneath the inverted knot in the side of the tree. She heard soft, pulsating gasps of pleasure from the hovel above her, and after several seconds of moaning, the faerie stuck her head over the side.
“Oh no! Don’t tell you fell!” she said, her overly saccharine display of worry intermixed with tiny gasps of sexual enjoynt. “Gosh, I imagine you need a break now more than ever! Why, there’s no telling how far it is to the top!”
The intense pain radiating through Amara’s hands might have been a deterrent under different circumstances, but in this mont, it served as motivation. It reminded her of the thrill of battle; brought back mories of how much she enjoyed cutting loose and throwing every ounce of her might against a threat. Pain changed her outlook, encouraged her to see this challenge as a true battle yet to be won, and her stubborn pride returned in full force.
“You will not take my mories this day, nor any other!” Amara grunted, pulling herself to the next handhold.
Inch by inch, Amara dragged herself closer to the knot, and soon found herself entirely beside it. She looked inside to see the faerie bouncing with renewed vigor on her strange, phallic cucumber, moaning and squealing with joy as she spoke. “But in the face of all this cold, how will you manage? Why, just imagine how much easier the climb would be with just a tiny fraction of this— this— oh, yes! This! YES!!”
The faerie’s hips slamd down against the wood beneath her, impaling her pussy to the hilt of the fruit as she began to shake and quiver from the might of her orgasm. Even without her heightened demonic senses, the scent of the fruit and faerie’s strange, oily secretions nearly overpowered Amara. Fighting against the urge to connect to her hellfire and dispel her exhaustion by feeding, she steeled her will and set her sights on the darkness above her. None of this creature’s prior plans had worked; not the striptease, not the fingering, not the cold, and Amara hoped that resorting to such a vocal orgasm ant that she was close to the top.
Thick, powdery mounds of snowlight gathered on the various ledges around Amara, her hair even freezing slightly due to the overwhelming persistence of this unusual snowstorm. The wind grew ever stronger, doing its best to once again knock Amara loose, but she refused to give in.
Then she saw it. A distinct shift in the bark of the tree, a plateau that marked the end of her ascent. Her lungs ached from the piercing chill; her heart pounded from the prolonged test of endurance. Glittering, magical frost assaulted her on all sides, even causing several handholds to snap as she attempted to grab them, but none of those factors were able to stop her.
She slamd her hand down, grinning with pride as she felt soft dirt beneath her palm. The rest of her body soon joined her, and she finally pulled her body over the edge of the wooden cliff face.
Collapsing onto her back, she splayed her arms out to her side and embraced her victory. She smiled wide, silently affirming her promise to Nick as she gasped for air, each breath coming just a little bit easier now that she had no need to cling to the side of a tree. Even the reappearance of her host was unable to tarnish her mood; she’d won, plain and simple.
“Well, it looks like this ga is over, friend,” the faerie said. With a snap of her fingers, the freak snowlight storm began to subside, trickling down in intensity to sothing far less hostile. As the weather receded, becoming sothing incredibly beautiful to witness, the various curves of her body shimred into less dramatic versions of themselves.
“I… knew I was… close…” Amara huffed, refusing to look at the faerie. “You were… too desperate…”
“You were truly a worthy opponent, fair demon, and I concede this ga. You have bested fair and square, you have seen through my clever tactics, and I am proud to say that we matched wits this day. Earlier, I refused to share my na, and I would offer you the kindness of familiarity in gratitude for a ga well played. You may call Féith.” The faerie bowed dramatically as she introduced herself. “May I have your na, esteed victor?”
So ecstatic was Amara that she’d bested Féith at her ga that she allowed herself a mont of respite. Her mind was every bit as exhausted as her body, and with acknowledgent that the contest was over, she failed to analyze the faerie’s every word as carefully as she had during the climb.
With a single, dismissive wave of her hand, Amara nodded as she continued huffing. “Yeah, yeah… I’m Amara.”
A ripple passed through the tree, the clearing, perhaps the entirety of The Wilds as Amara’s eyes lit up. Her body floated into the air, her delicate insectoid wings flittering with renewed vigor as a delicate laugh echoed forth from her small fra. Her fingers began jittering with excitent, her eyes darted back and forth as if processing mountains of new information, and the snowlight surrounding her swirled into a torrent of pure bliss as she spoke up once again. “Oh. Oh! OH! This is INCREDIBLE! The might! The pedigree! I had no idea how important you were!!”
Eyes snapping open, _____ lurched forward as fear gripped her heart. “NO!” Amara’s last request hung in the air, and full realization of what _____ had agreed to now hit her in full force. She watched in terror as Amara rose high and higher above the ground, overflowing with terrifying glee as she adjusted to her new na.
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