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Conrad cowered behind a collapsed tree and groaned, cursing his rotten luck.

It was supposed to have been a routine scouting trek. Those bastard elves had been encroaching on the pack's territory again, trying to siphon the land's essence to power their foul magic. The chieftain had made it known, in no uncertain terms, that these incursions would not be tolerated, and that she would make her displeasure known in equally uncertain terms if they tried anything.

And of course, they tried things, because elves always did. Which was why Conrad and his fellow scouts had been sent out to patrol the borders, making sure that everything was safe. They hadn't expected the ambush. But none of the parties involved had expected the blizzard.

Conrad felt himself shiver as a frigid gale ripped through him, causing the wound on his shin to sting. It had only been a graze, but those leaf-eared mongrels were using silver-tipped knives. If it had penetrated, he might have lost the leg. As it was, he would be limping for several days. He'd cleaned the wound as best he could and used what was left of his tunic to bind it. Now he had to consider his next move.

He trusted in his packmates. If they were alive - no, he couldn't go down that road. They were alive, he believed in them. Regardless, he had no way of contacting his fellow scouts, and he thought no ill of him for not trying to go back for him in this storm. The pack needed to be told, and even if he did find them, he would just slow them down.

Regardless, he had no desire to die out here. He did not fight off three elf warriors only to die of exposure. His shaggy grey fur did absolutely nothing to protect him from the onslaught of stinging snow. He had to keep moving somehow. Groaning, he hauled himself to his feet and walked. These were unfamiliar woods, and navigation was impossible in this blizzard. He couldn't even smell anything but ice and snow. But staying still was certain death. Moving forward at least meant he might be able to find something, anything.

He wasn't sure how long he had been wandering. Hours, at least. It wasn't like he could see the sun. If he was still out here after dark...

No. Keep moving. He had to keep moving.

The outline of something large and grey began to materialize in his vision as the snowfall momentarily lulled. He could see what might have been a rocky outcropping. Had he made it as far as the foothills? He pressed onward, drawing on what inner strength he still had.

Finally, in a moment of clarity, safety loomed before him. A cave! Shelter! Surely he could wait out the blizzard there. And if it happened to be the home of a bear or a mountain lion or something similar, then they could fight him for it. He was pretty sure he could take a bear in a fight. A wounded werewolf is still a werewolf.

The cave wasn't any warmer than it was outside, but at least it kept the snow off of him. He squinted into the dark. The cave looked like it went quite deep. Conrad sniffed the air, and he could smell... burnt wood. Someone had been here very recently and started a fire. Maybe it was one of his fellow scouts. Maybe it was just an unfortunate trapper. Maybe it was even one of the elves who had somehow managed to get away from them alive. That last one was doubtful, but caution kept you alive out here.

As he ventured further into the cave, the smell of burnt wood grew stronger, and in the distance, he could see a faint light. Whoever had lit that fire was keeping it lit. Conrad slowed his approach, creeping forward without making a sound, like he was stalking a target.

He soon came across the source of the light. The cave opened up into a high-ceilinged chamber, and in the middle of it was a small, sputtering fire that did little to light the chamber. If there had been someone here, they must have left recently. Conrad sniffed the air again. The cave wasn't terribly well ventilated, and between that and his nose being somewhat stuffed up from the chill, he tried not to kick himself too much for what happened next.

A pair of hands grabbed him and lifted him bodily off the ground, and Conrad suddenly let out a growl as he struggled against his unseen assailant. Before he could raise his claws, however, whoever it was spun him around, and Conrad could feel himself being wrapped with some kind of silken cord, tied tightly around him, and the next thing Conrad knew, he felt a pinprick in his shoulder, and the world began to go blurry at the edges, and the last thing he saw was a set of glistening eyes, far too many of them for his peace of mind, and then the world went dark.

~*~

Conrad woke up from what might have been the best sleep of his life. He tried to get out of bed and stretch, but he soon realized that he was not in bed, nor was he able to stretch. His eyes suddenly shot open, and he allowed himself to look around.

He was in the depths of the cave still, and he was stuck to a wall, bound by a series of white, fibrous strands, pinning him back. He struggled against his bonds and tried to figure out what it was. It didn't feel like rope. Some kind of fabric? Linen?

Then he remembered the multi-eyed face that he briefly saw before he passed out, and a new thought struck him.

It was webbing.

Conrad knew full well that the pack wasn't alone in the woods. There were things in the depths of the forest that the werewolves were more than happy to leave alone in the hopes that they would, in turn, be left alone. These things were fiercely territorial, but unlike the elves, they typically wished them no ill will.

Typically.

Conrad continued to struggle for freedom, for all the good that it would do him. If his attacker was what he thought it was, then he had a struggle ahead of him, but if he persisted, then perhaps in a few hours' time he would be able to-

Connor's thought process abruptly stopped in its tracks as one of his arms ripped free of the webbing. He paused for a moment in confusion, before deciding that he was not going to complain about his stroke of good fortune. With a hand free, his claws made short work of the rest of his bonds, and he managed to disentangle himself from the web. His leg was still throbbing somewhat, but being off of it for a few hours had helped. He would have to push through that, however, because there would certainly be a fight ahead of him. Bracing himself, he made his way toward the exit of the den, prepared to do battle with the fierce adversary that awaited him.

Pulling aside a sheet of web, Conrad once again found himself in the chamber with the firepit, and for the first time, he saw her.

He had heard of them, of course. The spider-maidens of the deep mountains. No friend to elf or wolf or anyone else, few who encountered them lived to speak of it. This one was an imposing figure, large enough to loom over even him. Her humanoid half was thickly-built, with dark hair that hung loosely over her shoulders and coppery skin, while her spidery half was black with dark orange patches and covered with coarse hairs.

Her figure would have been a lot more imposing had she been poised to strike, as Conrad had expected. At the moment, however, she was crouched down by the dying fire, a thin sheet of web wrapped around her shoulders as she attempted to feed it dry twigs and grass. She looked up when she heard him approached, her quartet of jet-black eyes focused on him, and she looked oddly resigned.

"Whatever you are going to do, do it quickly," she said, looking back down at the fire. "Kill me or leave."

Conrad was frozen in place, and it had nothing to do with the cold. He hadn't expected her to speak the common tongue, her accent unusual but perfectly clear. He certainly hadn't expected her to seem so dejected.

His instincts were screaming at him to run, but even for a wolf, instinct was sometimes subsumed by curiosity.

"...Why am I alive?"

She smirked at him. "That is the question we have all been trying to answer, is it not?"

So not only was she not trying to kill him, she had a sense of humor. Conrad's scout training hadn't prepared him to deal with this.

Cautiously, he sat down across from her by the firepit. It didn't give off much warmth, but there was some warmth.

"You know what I meant," he said. "You caught me completely flatfooted. I was certain I was going to be your next meal."

"I was thinking about it," she said, as she gave the fire a poke with a long stick. "I have been subsisting on dried meat for days, now here you are. I barely had the strength to make enough web to restrain you. And since you are out here, I suspect that it was a rather threadbare web."

"So why didn't you?" said Conrad, trying not to let his guard completely down. Eloquent or not, she was still a predator and he was not a fool.

She looked up at him and laughed. "This is not much of a den, you may have noticed," she said. "I am trying to outlast the storms. And when I saw the state you were in after you passed out... well, I suppose I could not bring myself to do it. It would be one thing if you had come in here with the intent to take my head for glory, or harvest my silk for profit. But unfortunately for my stomach, you were doing nothing of the sort. You are simply trying your best to survive, just as I am."

She looked back down at the guttering fire, groaning as she fed it more kindling.

"So yes. Leave if you want, though I suspect the snow will make it difficult. Fight me if you wish. Perhaps my meat will sustain you long enough to wait it out. Or you can just wait here and we can all freeze together."

Conrad stood up and straightened out, and the spider's gaze followed him.

"Do you have a name?" he asked.

She suddenly looked puzzled. "Zada will do," she said with a shrug.

"Zada, did you take my satchel?"

Zada gestured to a corner, where his satchel was stuck to the wall via a bit of web.

He retrieved it and opened it up. There wasn't much left in it, but what it did contain was his ration pouch and his tinder box. First thing was first. He opened up the ration bag and pulled out a large, waxy lump, pulling it apart and offering half of it to Zada. She looked at it curiously.

"What is this?" she said.

"Mostly rendered fat mixed with nuts and berries," said Conrad. "I don't think you'll care for the taste, but it fills your belly quickly."

After a moment's hesitation, Zada accepted her lump. She made a face as she continued to nibble on it, but didn't complain.

"I have one more question," said Conrad, as he chewed thoughtfully on his own portion. "I know of your people. You're said to be exceptionally strong and fierce. Even with the storms, what's been stopping you from going out to hunt for more food? Are you ill?"

She laughed around her mouthful of ration. "In a manner of speaking, yes," she said. "My strength is being sapped from me by a terrible parasite." Her grin widened as Conrad gave her a strange look, showing off her fangs. "I am gravid, little wolf. I must use everything I have in order to stay warm, else my brood will not survive."

Conrad nearly choked when she said the word. She looked almost embarrassed to admit it. But he supposed that it made sense that she would be reluctant to admit it. No predator wanted it to be known that they were vulnerable, else they become prey in turn.

"...Is it still storming?" he said, peering over her shoulder.

She looked like that wasn't what she had been expecting to hear. It took her a moment to respond. "The snowfall has lightened somewhat," she said. "But I do not believe it will last."

"Then I had best move quickly," he said, pulling himself up. "Those scraps you're burning won't last long."

She blinked both sets of eyes as she looked up at him. "I... beg your pardon?"

"You've allowed me into your home. It would be extremely rude of me not to repay your hospitality. Unless you've changed your mind about eating me? I suspect I'd be rather gamey, in any case."

She watched him as he made his way out of the cave once again. As she had said, the snow had let up somewhat; it was now falling in thick, powdery flakes. The skies were still bleak and grey, but at least he could see past his nose. There was still an acute chill in the air, however. Zada had been right. The storms weren't over yet. He got to work.

~*~

Over the next few hours, Conrad had managed to retrieve some crude firewood. It would have been nice if he'd had some proper tools, but his impromptu rest had replenished his strength somewhat, and while he'd be hard pressed to chase down large prey, it was easy enough to tear a number of dead trees apart for firewood. Along with this, he'd managed to subdue a number of hares and squirrels. Small morsels, to be sure, but meat was meat, and his rations wouldn't last more than a day or two if he would be sharing them.

Zada was pleasantly surprised when he returned. With his help, she managed to get a serious fire going. The cave wasn't quite what one would call cozy, but they probably wouldn't get a chill, either. It was a start.

The temperature dropped rapidly as the hours went by, and soon the sound of heavy winds and falling snow began to pick up once again. The two of them huddled together for warmth as they sat beside the fire, cooking Conrad's catches with an improvised spit. Her body was cooler than Conrad would have guessed; he didn't know if it was because of the weather or if her kind just naturally ran cold.

"You have done me a great kindness," said Zada, pulling Conrad closer, as if trying to get every bit of warmth she could out of him.

"We're in this together," said Conrad, shrugging. "It's what anyone would do."

"Perhaps not anyone," said Zada. "People are so quick to judge. Regardless, I thank you, though I fear it may not be enough."

"Do you need me to get more wood, or...?"

She shook her head. "I will spare you an anatomy lesson, but suffice it to say, it takes everything we have to sustain a brood. I have barely been able to leave this den for the past fortnight. I cannot get enough to eat. I cannot warm myself, even with your help. I fear my eggs will not survive the winter."

Conrad pulled her a little bit closer. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he said, almost pleadingly. "I owe you my life."

"Your life is yours and you owe me no such thing," she said, pushing him away.

"Maybe not. But please, is there something? If not for your sake, then for your children?"

Her cheeks actually flushed slightly. "There is something that my kind have been known to do, in times when we're unable to carry our eggs safely..."

Conrad urged her to go on, and somewhat reluctantly, she did.

She sighed. "We can... implant our eggs into the body of another, for warmth and safety."

Conrad's ears stood straight up in surprise. "Implant?" he said. "You mean, like..."

"I mean nothing gruesome," said Zada, very quickly. "It would not be pleasant, to be sure, but nor would it do the host any long-term harm. Nevertheless, you have done so much for me, I could not possibly ask you to-"

"I'll do it."

Zada's eyes went wide.

"Don't try and change my mind," Conrad pressed on, before she had a chance to object. "We're both here. Let me help you."

Zada's eyes - all of them - met Conrad's, and there was something deep and sad in them. As if she had never known such selflessness in her life, and did not quite know how to handle it.

"Well," she said, "if you insist-"

"I do insist."

She smiled at him, then pulled him into a close hug. "I will need some time to prepare," she said. "And so will you. I will need to give you a small dose of my venom. You will not fall asleep as you did before. It will just... loosen you up."

Conrad nodded. With that, Zada straightened up to her full height and helped Conrad to his feet. Holding onto his hand, she led him back into the den he had woken up in, the little chamber covered entirely with web, from ceiling to floor.

With a deftness that Conrad found quick impressive, she began to peel long strands of web off of the walls and knit them together, forming a crude hammock of sorts. She motioned for him to get comfortable, and as he did so, she ran a hand along his leg.

"Are you certain you wish to do this?" she said. "I will not proceed unless you are fully willing."

"I'm sure," said Conrad. "Do what you have to do."

Zada nodded, and with that, she opened her mouth wide, showing off her sharp fangs and long tongue, and bit Conrad on the thigh. It wasn't a hard bite. It barely hurt at all. But almost immediately, a tingling sensation began to radiate out from the spot.

"Relax," she said, running a hand over the spot. "I will return to you soon." With that, she skittered off, and Conrad did his best to relax. It wasn't as hard as he had anticipated. True to her word, the little nibble that she had given him wasn't painful at all. The pleasant tingling spread out from his thigh and out through his loins, and it wasn't difficult to get lost in the sensation.

He wasn't sure how long Zada had kept him waiting, because the next thing he knew, she had come back. She had discarded the silken shawl that she had kept covered with, and stood bare-chested before him. In her hands, she carried a small earthen jar. With care, she undressed him, peeling off his tunic and his trousers and folding them up. Then, retrieving the jar, she dabbed her fingers into it. They came back slick, and a floral scent hung in the air. Then she knelt down low, and Conrad felt her long fingers caressing his- oh!

So that was how they were going to be doing this.

She touched him with the utmost of care, and soon, she had applied a generous portion of the substance.

"I am ready for you," she said, picking him up as if he weighed nothing at all. Carefully, she leaned back against her nest of webs and carefully rolled over, laying on her back. Only now, with her body situated so, could Conrad truly appreciate how swollen her abdomen was. From this position, he could see how enormously it was bulging out, and he could almost swear that he saw it pulsate periodically.

She set Conrad down at a point on her spider-body just below where her upper torso ended, spreading his legs apart as she positioned him just so.

"Relax, little wolf," she said, running a hand along his cheek. "You may not find it entirely discomforting."

Then she took a deep breath, and Conrad let out a gasp as he felt something poking into his rear, something thick and slick. He had lain with many before, werewolves having few qualms about their bed-mates, and was no stranger to receiving pleasure this way, but this felt unlike anything else he had ever taken. It almost felt like it was wriggling its way into him of its own accord.

"What's... happening?" he said, holding onto her and trying to catch his breath. "What is that?"

"My ovipositor," she said, through a strained expression. "I need to... concentrate..."

Conrad didn't know what that word meant, but Zada did not seem to be in the right state of mind for further elaboration. The appendage within him began to pulse gently, and Zada gasped sharply. He felt a sensation of intense wetness inside of him, as if she had just climaxed, but surely she could not already be finished?

"Nngh... my eggs..." she groaned, her eyes unfocused. "Need... need to lay... nngh...!"

And then she suddenly took two handfuls of web and grit her teeth, and he could see her whole body tense up, and then he could feel it. Something pressing into him, as if it were traveling through her member, a round lump, twice the circumference of any cock he'd ever taken, if not thicker. He feared he would be split apart, but to his surprise, he felt himself stretching open with ease as Zada groaned, pushing the egg through her appendage and into his body. There was some discomfort at first, but parts of it felt good too, as the egg stretched him out inside, slowly moving through her, before settling in what felt like the pit of his stomach. Zada started to pant as the egg left her body and reached its destination, but before he had a chance to rest, she screwed up her face and began to push once again, and Conrad could feel another egg beginning to push into him.

He couldn't say for sure how many would be coming, but he had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

~*~

When all was said and done, Zada had laid eight eggs inside of Conrad's body. Even in his dazed state, the relief she felt at being no longer burdened by her precious cargo was palpable.

Once she had withdrawn from him, she wasted no time in retrieving a sheet of webbing and bundling him up within it. As he did so, he looked down at his belly. It was so swollen and distended that it looked as though he was carrying a full litter. Which, in a sense, he was.

"Brave, noble little wolf," said Zada, stroking his cheek once again as she carried him back over to the fire. "You cannot comprehend the good you have done for me this day. I swear to you, you will be cared for as long as you carry my brood. I will keep all of us safe."

Conrad wanted to respond, but speaking was too much of an effort. He was utterly spent. But he managed a smile, at least. Zada returned the gesture and gave him a kiss on the forehead. She continued to hold him until the exhaustion of everything he had gone through had finally set in, and a deep, blissful sleep claimed him.

~*~

Conrad carried Zada's eggs within him for sixteen days. He counted. During this time, he unfortunately could move about little. He spent much of his time either eating or resting. Without the burden of nurturing her eggs weighing her down, Zada was more than adept at caring for the both of them. The day after she'd laid her eggs, she'd gone out into the woods and returned with an elk that she had managed to subdue. When not eating or sleeping, Zada watched over him, keeping him occupied as they exchanged stories about their homes, or whatever idle fancies crossed their minds. Part of Conrad was being driven mad by not being able to run freely. But he endured. What he was doing was important.

On the morning of the sixteenth day, he woke to find Zada standing over him, weaving something out of silk and humming contentedly to herself.

"You seem to be in high spirits today," he said.

"The chill has finally broken," she said. "Your duties are near an end."

"Oh, thank Mother Earth and all of her children," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "I don't know how child-bearers can stand this. What do I need to do?"

Using the tip of one of her legs, she slid a cup over to him. It was full of a deep red liquid.

"Drink up," she said, as she continued her weaving. Conrad retrieved the cup and did so. It tasted sweet and spicy, and warmed him up inside. The moment he had swallowed the last of it, he felt a sharp pain in his midsection, like the worst muscle cramp he'd ever had.

"The eggs will come out of you soon," she said, smiling at him. "Hopefully it will not take long. Try not to tense up so much."

"How soon do you- urgh!" He winced, curling into a ball as he felt a squeezing sensation inside of him, accompanied by an immense feeling of pressure within his guts, aching to be relieved.

Zada straightened herself up, offering him a hand. "It will be easier if you are upright," she said, helping him up and over to the wall, where he braced himself as he crouched down. Almost instinctively, he knew what to do. Gritting his teeth, he bore down as Zada herself had done a fortnight ago, and soon he could feel an egg shift, making its way out of his ersatz womb.

"I know it hurts," Zada cooed, gently rubbing his swollen belly. "But it will be over soon. I know you are strong. Draw upon that strength."

As Conrad continued to push, he soon felt his rear burn as it began to stretch open. Had the eggs grown bigger since Zada had deposited them? It certainly felt like they had. He continued to push, trying to force it out of his body, and Zada brought her hand around, gently easing it out of him as his body finally disgorged the egg.

"Hello there, little one," she said, looking down at the egg. It was white and spherical, and about the size of a small melon. Careful, she deposited it into the silken sack that she had been weaving. "That is one down."

"Only seven to go," said Conrad, with a grimace. "And here I was worried that this would be easy."

By the end of the hour, all eight eggs had been safely laid and deposited within the woven sack, which Zada secured in the back of her den while Conrad lay prone, panting like he had just run ten miles without stopping.

"Thank you, little wolf," said Zada, sidling up to him and wrapping her arms around him. "When my children hatch next year, I will make sure they know who helped them come into the world."

Conrad smiled despite his exhaustion. "It was my pleasure to be of service," he said.

"I suspect you will want to get back to your pack as soon as possible," said Zada. "I insist you take a day to rest first. You just gave birth, after all."

Conrad let out a bark of laughter. "I suppose I have, haven't I?" Then he flopped back. The pack would never believe this. "You're right, though. They probably think I'm dead. I hope they haven't started divvying up my things."

Zada smirked and pulled him closer, rubbing his chest affectionately. He looked up into her four-eyed gaze and smiled in return.

~*~

Seasons came and seasons went. Time could creep by on you, and the time had gone by for Zada rather quickly. She could barely keep track of its passage nowadays. There was always so much to do. At the moment, she was fussing over a large stew pot.

Her hackles were suddenly raised as she heard footsteps approaching her den, and she recoiled back, poised to pounce... and relaxed, as she saw the figure approaching, clad in a light cloak woven from a silvery material that was very familiar.

The hood was lowered, and a grey-furred, long-muzzled visage revealed itself to her.

"Little wolf!" she cooed, running over to him. "You came back!"

"Of course I did," said Conrad, shrugging his cloak off. "After all, I wanted to-"

"Mama? Who's that?"

Both of them looked to the back of the den, the little nesting area covered by a webby curtain. A little face peered out from behind it, four eyes glittering with curiosity.

Conrad's heart leapt in his chest. "Is that...?"

Zada nodded. "Come on out, everyone. It's okay."

Another head poked out. Then another. The curtain was pulled aside, and all at the same time, eight little spiderlings skittered out, pushing and shoving each-other out of the way, each and every one of them wanting to see the newcomer first. Each bore Zada's colors, though with different patterns on their spider bodies. And, to Conrad's surprise, two of them had lupine ears.

"Who's this?"

"Ooh, he's fuzzy!"

"Can I hug him? He looks soft!"

"Me first, me first!"

Conrad and Zada shared a glance. She grinned at him.

"Children, I'd like you all to meet a very special friend of mine."