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Best One Out of Three

Chapter 19

Delilah staggered behind Storm, hooves tripping through the underbrush as she glared at the tall white mare's back. They had been traveling for weeks. She was draped in someone else's sweaty robes, she was filthy and tired, and she wanted to go home. She missed her great bath in Aramora Hall, missed being fed grapes and fanned and spoiled. She missed riding in a carriage, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had never walked so far in her life. Her thighs were burning, her calves were aching, and she was starving. She thought complaining loudly enough would make Storm take her to Aramora Hall. Instead, Storm completely ignored her, leading her deeper into the forest in silence, until she gave up with a huff.

With her head smarting as it was, it took Delilah some time to realize what had happened. Eventually the fog cleared, and now it was more than obvious Storm had brought some lookalike to take her place. She had been asking Storm to help her escape the palace for years, and now it seemed the mare had finally decided to.

At first, Delilah silently rejoiced. No longer would she live in fear of one day ruling the kingdom, assassinations, pregnancy and motherhood, court intrigue, boring garden parties -- all the things she loathed and feared were gone! But when they made camp that night and Delilah found herself huddling against the cold, she started to realize what living freely would actually mean. She sat before the fire, hugging herself and watching in disgust as Storm cooked wild vegetables on a stick. On a filthy stick._And she realized: this was it. She would be digging up roots to eat, sleeping in the dirt, wrapped in furs against the bitter cold, and facing the untold dangers of the wilds _for the rest of her life. She swallowed hard and wondered if she could endure it.

"Second thoughts?" said Storm, speaking for the first time in what felt like years. She was sitting beside Delilah, and the princess thought she looked very . . . content. Her stick was loaded down with vegetables she had spent the day gathering during their travels, and she held it over the flames, watching with approving eyes as the food roasted. Her white mane danced in the gentle breeze, slapping across her narrow-eyed gaze when she glanced at Delilah and passed the spit to her.

Delilah hesitated before taking the vegetables. "But . . . what about you?"

"I can endure without for a very long time. Eat."

"Alright . . ." Delilah muttered. She took a bite from the purple, root-like vegetable on the center of the stick and blinked in surprise at how delicious it was. Maybe she could live like this after all. But she was still worried. "Is this how the painted horses live? Cold and hungry all the time?" she asked Storm unhappily. "Pft. No wonder Mother wanted to be queen."

Storm's white brows drew down in a frown, and Delilah knew she had said something insensitive.

"What? What'd I say now?" complained the princess, rolling her eyes.

"Your mother loved King Athriel. She still loves him. Do not disparage her. And do not disparage the field striders."

Delilah wanted to argue but didn't see the point. She was pretty convinced her mother had married the king for his treasury and no other reason, though Storm was ridiculously devoted to Sun Tail and would defend the queen with her dying breath.

"So what made you decide to help me?" Delilah prompted to change the subject.

Storm's pale eyes remained fixed on the fire. "I didn't."

Delilah paused. "What do you mean?"

Storm still didn't look at Delilah, though her throat flexed when she swallowed guilty. "The mare who took your place was your sister. You know that," she said with no further elaboration.

Delilah lowered the vegetables slightly, her lips tightening impatiently. "Oh, just get on with it! What about my sister!"

"I helped her to replace you," Storm answered. "I didn't do this to help you."

Delilah's teeth set. "So what are you going to do with me then?" she hissed. "Drag me around the forest forever?"

"Perhaps," was the quiet response, and Storm stared unapologetically at the fire.

Delilah screamed softly in disbelief. "You traitorous whore! I'm out here wading through mud while that tramp who calls herself my sister is living it up in my place!" She threw the vegetables on the fire with a furious scream and was smugly satisfied when Storm's nostrils flared in silent anger.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Storm hissed, narrowing cold eyes on the fire. "You wanted to be free of your responsibilities. You _wanted_to live out in the forest. Well, now you can. Or was it all simply the naïve fancy of a spoilt little girl who didn't know how good she had it?"

Seething, Delilah sprang up and screamed indignantly when Storm grabbed her wrist and yanked her back down, forcing her to sit. She looked defiantly into Storm's flat, cold eyes, and without warning, she spit in her face. Storm was so flustered that she let Delilah go, and the princess sprang up at once. She hitched up her robe and had nearly fled when she felt Storm's hard paw snatch the back of her clothes.

Eyes wide and panicking, Delilah staggered backward into the half-angel's lap and struggled wildly to escape. She kicked her hooves against the taller female's shins and felt a thrill of triumph when Storm grunted in pain and released her. She sprang up again and had nearly tripped forward to freedom when the half-angel yanked her back another time, grabbing her tail through the robe and pulling several hairs free with a painful pinch that made Delilah whinny.

"Stop this foolishness!"

"No! Let go of m-me! Ah -- !"

Before Delilah could make another lunge, Storm's quick paws had grabbed her hips, then her waist, pulling the slender princess down on her lap. She tightened her arms around Delilah's middle and grimly held on as the princess bucked, flapped, and screamed in a defiant rage.

Delilah's tantrum lasted for some time before she realized that there was no escaping, that Storm was simply waiting for her to calm down. Breathless and mussed, she sagged in the stronger female's lap, panting and drained and suddenly very humiliated. Fury flushed through her as she realized she was at Storm's mercy. Completely.

Without warning, Delilah broke down sobbing. Her face contorted, and she sobbed shrilly and pitifully, bowing her head in choked hiccoughs that made her high breasts shiver behind her robe.

"Shh," Storm whispered, stroking Delilah's mane. "Hush. I was going to take you to my tribe. You could live out your days in peace there, only I worry they would not accept you. Sun Tail was considered a traitor when she left. They would likely run you off. It is probably better if you stay with me. You can not survive the forest on your own."

Delilah closed her eyes under Storm's stroking and her sniffling subsided. As much as she resented Storm in that moment, she knew the half-angel was right: she could not survive on her own. Though Storm had taught her to wield a short blade when she was a child, she still needed a protector. She was no fighter. She cried again, suddenly missing Captain Riley desperately.

"Shh," Storm soothed. One arm was still tight around Delilah's middle, holding her still, and the paw that stroked that Delilah's golden mane slowly smoothed over her shoulder . . . then down over one of her breasts.

Delilah went still when Storm's careful fingers massaged through her robe. The half-angel's paw moved in long, slow strokes over her supple softness to her nipple, as if she was milking. Delilah couldn't decide which was more shocking: that it felt so good or that Storm was doing it to her. Storm was like a sister and had often claimed to feel the same. Had that been a lie all this time?

"S-Storm?" Delilah stammered when the white mare's massaging paw traveled lower. Delilah's heart pounded in her chest and she blinked out tears as she watched Storm careful paw inch her robe up her thighs. Storm didn't answer. She opened her knees wide, forcing Delilah's thighs wide apart, until the cold air had slapped the pink lips of her exposed sex. Deliah's thighs tensed as she strained to close them, but Storm's thighs were holding hers open like an iron bar, interlocked as their legs were. Delilah shivered when Storm gave her ear a gentle nibble, and holding her tight in one arm, she slipped two fingers along the slit of Delilah's sex in a long, soft stroke.

Delilah closed her eyes and her lips parted in frowning delight as she was fingered gently, carefully, slowly. She tightened her sex on reflex against the sudden intrusion of Storm's fingers, which only seemed to encourage Storm to finger her slower, deeper. Her lips swelled with blood in response, fat and warm and wet, and Storm moaned softly. "Your pussy's as tight as your mother's," she whispered, shocking Delilah to gasping.

Delilah's eyes flew wide and her ears went forward. "W-What!"

"It smells like your mother's, too," Storm added huskily. She gently pulled her fingers free and stared with narrowed eyes at the glossy juices on them before sucking them slow into her lips. "Mmm. You even taste like Sun Tail --"

Delilah blushed furiously. "S-Storm! Were you and m-my mother --?"

"Lovers?" Storm said bitterly. "No." She trailed kisses along Delilah's neck, pulling the neck of her robe down over her naked shoulder. "I tasted her as she slept," she answered between kisses. "No pussy ever tasted so sweet. . . ."

Delilah scowled. "Without her knowing? That's horrible! And I'm to be her replacement, is that it?" She twisted to get free. "Let go of me!"

"No," Storm said darkly and tightened her arm around Delilah's middle. Her breath was hot on Delilah's ear, and Delilah twisted helplessly as she was fingered and groped yet again. Her naked tit shivered free as she struggled feebly, jiggling and jutting with a tiny pink nipple as she shrugged her shoulder against Storm's insistent kissing.

Storm whispered wet in Delilah's ear, "I have long craved the taste of your pussy on my tongue, the heat of it against my mouth_._ You would switch around the palace with your swaying hips and tail, fanning out that hot scent, teasing me . . . taunting me. I thought about coming to your room in the night, undressing you, kissing and licking every soft inch, but Daisy was always there, watching."

Delilah gasped.

"I can give you such pleasures Edward never could. We could live happily in the forest together, you and I --"

"N-No!" Delilah wailed. Her thighs were spread wide and Storm was fingering her slowly, curling her fingers until Delilah's hips rocked forward. Pleasure flushed through her body, and she was ashamed to notice how hard her nipple had gotten on her exposed breast. It jutted from under the fabric of her lifted robe, and when she sought to cover it, Storm gently pried her paw away, tweaking her pink nipple, kissing her neck as she fingered her.

"Mmm . . ." Delilah shivered, trying to ignore the pleasure, but her sex was swollen and dripping, her clit was throbbing. She felt ready to squirt. She wanted to squeezed her thighs against it, but Storm's strong thighs defiantly held hers apart, and as the stronger female fingered her deeper, slower, she melted in her grasp . . . gently sobbing.

"Feels good?"

"Y-Yes," Delilah bitterly admitted.

Storm's fingers slid along the split of Delilah's sex, gently teasing. "Shall I taste your pussy?" she asked with breathless anticipation.

Delilah blushed furiously, and she was about to stammer out a loud "No!" when something hot spattered the side of her face. She went rigid when she heard Storm's choked cry, and snapping her head around, she screamed to see the red blood that gushed from the mare's baffled mouth: someone had plunged a sword through Storm's back!

As Storm's eyes dulled and her paws went limp, Delilah scrambled up, screaming and hysterical and covered in blood. The sword ripped from Storm with a nasty squelch, and the white mare tumbled down to reveal the small black creature that had been standing behind her.

Delilah screamed.

"Shut up!" growled the creature. "You're mine now!"

Straining to see in the darkness, Delilah realized it was a black sheep, thick-maned, winged, and dour in her sinister armor. The sheep's eyes glowed in the dark, slanted, furious, and fierce, and in her paw was a needle-sharp sword that dripped blood. A demon of Araini! Delilah screamed again, screamed wildly, not knowing who would come and not caring. She only knew she had to get away. She turned to flee, and as she was running, she felt the sheep's violent claw snatch the back of her robes in a determined fistful.

"Where are you going?" the sheep snarled, dragging Delilah back by the robe. "I said you're mine now!"

Delilah's heart skipped a frantic beat as she was dragged back toward that terrifying creature whose eyes glittered in the dark like dying embers. Frantic, she kicked her hooves and was bitterly triumphant when the creature growled in pain and let go. She was fleeing yet again when the sheep snatched her mane, and with an impatient snarl, yanked her back hard. She screamed as her head snapped back, the tug burned her scalp, and then she was in the demon's arm, and the cold blade of the sword was her throat.

Delilah stood very still, breasts heaving with her panting gasps, waiting tensely for the monster to kill her next. But they simply stood there in the starlight, captive and captor, listening to each other's ragged panting. Delilah couldn't decide what the monster was waiting for, and after a painful beat, she snapped out, "Well? Aren't you going to kill me?"

"What? I didn't come here to kill you!" rasped the demon, startling Delilah with the shock in her voice.

Storm moaned from the ground, and a flush of relief went through Delilah: she was still alive! Get up, Storm! she thought frantically. Save me!

"I came to stop the Summoning," the demon went on, "not to rescue you. You can die now for all I care, so long as Araton doesn't get you."

"The Summoning?" Delilah scowled. "Release me, you fool! I'm not going to Araton!"

"No," whispered the demon, "you're not."

Delilah choked when pain exploded in a web across the back of her head. Darkness slipped over her as she slumped down.

Delilah woke again when warm sunlight tickled her bare breasts, when the breeze made her nipples harden with its chill caress. Her robe was gone! Frantic, she scrambled to cover her breasts and froze in horror when she realized her paws had been tied. Her bound wrists were above her head, forcing her perky breasts to lift high in her face. Her thighs were being held apart, and she could feel a hungry tongue lapping gently, relentlessly at her sex in long, slow licks from anus to clit. It sent a thrill of pleasure through her that shamed her. Terrified of what she would see, she looked down between her own trembling breasts and she went still: the demon was kneeling between her thighs, holding her legs aloft as she ate her out with frowning abandon!

Delilah lay there in shock and felt a blush flair hot up her face. In the sunlight, however, the demon wasn't nearly as terrifying. In fact, she was small, shapely, and lovely, a black beauty with slanted eyes. But was she alone? Trembling and afraid, Delilah glanced around, anticipating more demons, but there were none. She was lying in the bushes, completely naked, surrounded by flowers, and could hear birdsong. The forest was beautiful and blissful and was either oblivious or uncaring of her predicament. She felt so helpless that she started to cry.

The demon's ear flicked forward when she heard Delilah's sob. She groped her breasts in response, milking them in slow strokes as she buried her face deeper against the swollen lips of her sex. Delilah's eyes fluttered wide at this skilled touching, and her shapely body twisted and squirmed against the pleasure. She thrust her breasts to the sky, baffled and shocked that her tense, hot, clenching sex was about to release in a fount of ecstasy: she had never thought it possible a female could arouse her like this. What magic was this? Was it a demon spell? She didn't have time to wonder: she screamed softly as her swollen sex released against the demon's face. The demon was more than happy to lick her juices away with a slow, rolling tongue.

Delilah sagged. How had this happened to her? Passed from one molester to the next like a prize! "Release me!" she demanded crossly and squirmed against her binds. The demon paused, staring at her jiggling breasts with hooded eyes. Delilah's breasts heaved when she huffed irritably, and the demon licked her lips, slowly squeezing one her high tits, massaging it so deliciously that Delilah fell still.

"No, Daphne," said the demon quietly. "You're mine now. I'll take you to Vaine and let Mother and Father use you against Araton. You'll come quietly. You owe me that much after all my siblings sacrificed for you!"

Delilah scowled. This creature thought she was her sister! And suddenly, her doppelganger's eagerness to take her life made more sense: Daphne was the Purest One! In a sudden fit of anger, Delilah struggled harder, breasts trembling as she snarled, "Untie me! You have no idea who you're dealing with!"

The demon only laughed, her slanted eyes fixed on Delilah's soft breasts as she groped them now in both paws. "No, I won't be doing that," she answered.

Delilah released a scream of frustration that made the demon laugh at her again. She sagged in the grass, dismally resigned to her fate, but she went still when she noticed movement in the trees. Something was behind the demon. Something big. But the demon was so focused on Delilah's breasts, she hadn't noticed. Maybe it was a bear. Maybe it would attack the demon, and while that was happening, Delilah could escape!

Delilah pretended to continue her tantrum, arching her back and thrusting her breasts in a silent attempt to entice the demon. It worked. The demon leaned down with hooded eyes, and still groping Delilah's breasts in fistfuls, she squeezed one until the nipple jutted and started to gently suck. The second she did, a white stallion burst out of the trees, white wing spread wide, face twisted and roaring. Delilah's mouth dropped open as she watched the great angel swing his golden sword around in a whistling arc. She was fairly certain the demon was about to lose her head, but the creature leapt to its hooves at the last minute, narrowly missing the blow.

Delilah silently cursed, but as angel and demon were struggling, she wiggled up to flee. She had just gained her hooves when the angel managed to run his blade through the demon's side. He snatched it free in a rain of blood, and Delilah watched with her mouth open as the demon fell over with a scream.

The angel was terrifying, muscular, tense, and sneering as he was. He looked down at Delilah with golden eyes that burned like fire, and she looked up at him, frozen with fear. She was half-inclined to believe he would run her through next, but after simply staring at her for a moment, he came to her and without a word, scooped his bulging arm under her backside. She barely had time to move before he had tossed her over his shoulder like an empty sack, knocking the wind out of her, and then he was carrying her off through the trees.

"Were you sent by my father?" Delilah wondered miserably after some time. No answer. She gritted her teeth. "Are you taking me home?" she tried again. Still no answer. When the angel ignored her, Delilah drummed his broad back with her little fists, kicked her hooves, wiggled to get free of his tight arm. She noticed the stump on his back, the sad remnant of his shorn wing, and when her tantrum went ignored, she grabbed the stump and squeezed until her nails claws it. She was satisfied when the angel whinnied in pain, but rather than answer her questions, he gave her a hard clap on the buttocks that was so jarring, her eyes popped and she fell still.

Delilah remained bitterly, grudgingly silent for the rest of the journey. Her backside was smarting a long time after the angel's blow and she did not want to experience that stinging discomfort again. As he carried her in grim silence through the sunlight and birdsong, it slowly dawned on her which direction they were going. He was carrying her deeper and deeper into Hillback, past statues of cow goddesses and bovine figures. They were heading for the Tower. He was not an angel from her father's hall: he was an angel from Araton's hall!

"Oh, god," Delilah sobbed quietly and was surprised when the angel gave her backside a comforting pat.

They traveled for days and nights in silence, never encountering trouble. No wildlife. No bandits. It was too easy, and all so dreamlike and unreal. Delilah kept telling herself it wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening. She wasn't being taken to Araton! And yet she was. She tired to tell the angel she wasn't Daphne, she wasn't the Purest One, but he didn't seem to care. He just looked at her with his sad golden eyes and told her to sleep.

One night, Delilah awoke when she heard the angel grunting. It was raining, and as the water pattered down through the trees, as the cool mist chilled her fur, she was sitting against a tree, half-awake now for the moaning. When she finally opened her eyes, it was to find the angel beside her. He was sitting against the great tree with her, knees spread and an enormous pink erection standing tall from the skirt of his armor. He was stroking it in a desperate fist when Delilah looked at him, and finding her awake, he halted in shame, blushing to his hairline.

Thinking perhaps she could win him over, Delilah smiled and placed her paw over his, guiding it in a deep stroke that made his eyes hood. They both watched as his great cock heaved in their fingers, then without warning, he grabbed Delilah by her narrow waist and lifted her up. Delilah didn't fight it, thinking perhaps the angel would let her go if only she would make love to him. She held to his muscly shoulders as he brought her down on his cock, slowly plunging himself deep through her moisture, until her eyes widened and she gasped at the size of him. He filled her so deep, he was prodding her womb, and he held her so wide, her thighs felt forced apart.

With her robes falling back, the angel looked at her pink sex, which was split around the veined pinkness of his shaft, and Delilah knew he was looking for virgin blood. But there was none. His lips parted in shock, and he looked at her as if something had been confirmed. "Daphne?" he whispered. "No," Delilah whispered. She looked at the angel with warm eyes, and kissing him softly on the mouth, she moved her hips, slowly winding herself deeper and deeper on his cock, until her heat and moisture had wrung cries of sweetest pleasure from him. Her heart fluttered when he enfolded her in his big arms, holding her close to his chest, trembling as if for fear she would disappear. His kisses on her fur were soft, hesitant, but eager. His moans were pleading, his eyes were yearning. He dropped his face in her cleavage as she made love to him, and it seemed such a forlorn gesture that she cradled his head and kissed his white mane in sympathy.

For such a large brute, the angel really was a tender thing. He was just a boy doing what he'd been told, a child too afraid to think for himself. He yielded to Delilah completely as they made love, following her every gesture, obeying her every silent command. And when it was over, Delilah wasn't surprised when he flipped her over his shoulder yet again and carried off for the tower: he was determined in his grim purpose and there could be no swaying him.

Only a few more days and then they arrived at the tower. It loomed over them, standing solemn against the winking stars. It was a soaring construction made of white stone, its shaft disappearing in a wreath of cloud. At the bottom of the tower was a stair, its round steps rippling forward like water. Heaven's light streamed from above, shedding on the stair in a dazzling funnel. Delilah found herself staring at that stair, trying to reconcile herself to her fate. As she stood there, head back, peering at the heavens, she felt the angel draw close behind her. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "Goodbye."

Delilah's lashes fluttered. "Aren't you coming with me?"

"No," the angel said in a low, bitter voice. "I can not." Delilah felt his paw gently press the small of her back as he whispered, "Go on."

"Why can't you --?" Delilah turned to face the angel - and gasped when a blade pushed slowly from his belly, burning a red hole in his armor. Blood oozed from his open mouth, and his eyes were baffled and pained. The blade wrenched free with a wet squelch, and as the angel fell over in a heap, Delilah held her breath, wondering which of her former captors would be standing there.

It was the demon.

"D'you think you could esssscape me?" sneered the little sheep, whose paw was shaking on her sword. She was bent over and hunched, clutching her bloody side. Her armor was ragged and torn where the angel's searing blade had sliced it in a smoking line, and the paw that fumbled to hold the blood in was glossy red from its efforts. Her slanted eyes were unfocused, cloudy, and her words were slurred. She took a staggering step forward and pointed her black blade at Delilah with a crooked smile.

"I d-did it," the sheep slurred, bloody lip twisting. "I did it! I'm the best! I won! The other two, the horses_failed. Could _Laila have done this? No. No!" Her faced darkened and her slanted eyes glinted like hot metal from the wreath of her black mane. "Now . . ." she said in a voice that was practically menacing, ". . . come with me."

Delilah shook her head and swallowed hard, suddenly paralyzed with fear.

The sheep's face twisted furiously. "I said come with me! Where are you going!"

Delilah turned and fled, running desperately for the stair. She could hear the demon's unsteady hooves staggering after her, and though the creature was injured, she was running incredibly fast. Delilah screamed when she felt the barest graze of the demon's nails on the back of her robe. She silently spurred her hooves to thundering faster, harder.

"Get back here, whore!" the sheep roared, blood and fury in her voice. She managed to grab Delilah's robe and tore it viciously. Delilah screamed as her sleeve slipped down, as her naked tit shivered free, trembling against the cold air. The demon groped it roughly, squeezing it from under, hissing with breathless delight in her ear. The creature smelled of burnt flesh, and the scent curled in Delilah's nostrils until she felt the acid burn of sick at the back of her throat.

"Where are you going, beautiful, hmm?" the demon whispered hot in Delilah's ear, and Delilah shivered when its hard paw groped at her sex. "No!" she screamed and without warning, she elbowed the demon in the face. She heard its pained yowl as she took off running for the stair, and as it barreled after her, she thought its hooves sounded louder than they were, heavier than they were, as if she were being chased by some unholy giant in a fairy tale.

"Get back here! You're mine!" the monster bellowed. "I won't fail now - I can't!"

Terrified, Delilah glanced back and saw the creature's face was streaked in blood, which only served to make it more menacing. Heart pounding, mane streaming, she darted up the stair and disappeared into Heaven's light.