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Chapter 11

One year before Elise soma-bonded with Fang, when she still lived in St. Belaroix, three female werewolves stood in the small clearing to the southeast of Howling Grove.

“So... that's it," somberly said the white one wearing a Moon Pendant. “That's my story."

The other two she-werewolves remained silent.

“From the bottom of my heart, thank you both for letting me say my piece," continued Anabelle. “You can judge me now, if you'd like. I won't even try to defend myself. If you both want to cut ties with me and hate me for selfishly keeping it all to myself even though we were friends, that's fine. I deserve it."

The jet-black she-werewolf, Rose, clicked her tongue. Although her eyes were downcast, her expression was evidently full of silent anger.

“Don't you ever say that again, Anabelle," she growled. “I'm dead serious. If I ever hear you repeating that you deserve to be hated, I'll slap you, you hear me?"

“Rose..."

“Yes, you shouldn't have waited until pretty much the last day before telling us all that stuff. All you accomplished with that is to rob us of the chance to maybe do more to help you," said the huntress, raising her gaze to meet Anabelle's. “But I get it. You're eighteen. I can't expect you to make rational decisions all the time, or even most of the time. Especially after all the horrid shit I now know you've been through."

“Yeah, I have to say..." began Marjorie, swishing her tail once. “I've always prided myself in being a fairly idealistic kind of person. I knew people could be terrible, but I always thought that there's always some good in even the worst of them. That's right: until today, I naively believed that no one is beyond redemption. But that step-father of yours... God almighty, girl! That man was a complete monster! He truly had nothing even remotely resembling a heart!"

“Absolutely," nodded Rose, making a fist. “I was so angry hearing all the things he did to you, Anabelle. That man definitely didn't deserve the air he breathed. Why, I almost wished I could have choked the life out of him myself! Although I would have definitely shoved his own balls down his throat first," she strongly declared. “So, uh... I guess neither of us can blame you for what you did."

“The question now is, what is going to happen when she meets with the Grand Alpha? Would he be willing to forgive her just this once?"

“Well, if it's true that he can see it all somehow, and that he can magically expel the bad apples at any time, even though he never leaves his chamber... then I believe Anabelle has a chance. Otherwise, he would have punished her as soon as she did what she did," reasoned Rose. “But she's still here with us. So, maybe he's willing to hear her out or something? I don't know, though we'll find out soon, I guess."

“Right. As soon as her Moon Pendant starts glowing," nodded Marjorie. “Well, Anabelle... You know we'd walk into the chamber with you if we could, but the ivory gate repels anyone who isn't wearing a glowing Moon Pendant. So, make sure you tell him we both vouch for you, okay? I mean... I guess he already knows, but you tell him anyway. Oh, and of course, promise him you'll never break the rules again; and stick to that promise!"

“I... I will!" exclaimed the white she-werewolf, relieved to see that she still had the support of her friends. “If what Rose says is true, and there's still a glimmer of hope for me not to lose Darkhowl, I'll fight for it!"

“Now that's the spirit!" declared the huntress as she patted her pupil's back with vigorous enthusiasm. “Keep that fire burning, Anabelle! Show that Grand Alpha guy that you deserve a second chance! And don't forget that nothing is over until it's over!"

“Thank you, Rose. And you too, Margie," said the angelic werewolf girl with the white coat of fur; her beautiful emerald eyes overflowing with tears. “I promise I will do my best."

~*~

Later, at night...

In a den somewhere in Howling Grove, one naked albino girl, clad in only her Moon Pendant, lay comfortably atop a large male lycca, wrapped securely in his arms. She liked it there, held by his warm, protective embrace; her face resting snuggly against his chest. That was her new home in life, the place where she belonged. It had been so ever since the night they had first met, ten days prior, when she cried eighteen years' worth of pain and suffering into his soothing fur.

'I can't lose him,' she thought to herself, reminiscing about the talk she'd had with Marjorie and Rose that afternoon. 'Right now, Darkhowl's embrace is the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. If I lost this... I fear I might just go insane.'

“Are you having trouble sleeping tonight, my angel-vanni?" he perceptively asked.

“I— I'm sorry. It's just... I can't stop thinking that this might very well be our last night together," confessed the white-haired beauty. “I don't want to lose you, Darkhowl. You've been so nice to me; so loving and patient, like no other man ever was. You've so generously shown me what it's like to be safe, hugged... loved. I could never thank you enough for that, even though it makes me feel a bit... guilty, I suppose."

“Guilty, you say? How so?"

“Well... you love me, right?"

“I do, with every fiber of my being," he said, tenderly stroking her wavy white hair with his large werewolf hand. “You are my beloved vanni-mate, she who chose me to be her lycca-mate. My heart belongs to you, and only you."

“See, that's what fills me with guilt. Despite all the love you selflessly give me every day, and how much both your gentle embrace and your company mean to me in turn, I haven't yet been able to gather enough courage to actually mate with you. And I don't think that's fair to you."

“Oh," quietly said Darkhowl, understanding her plight. “You need not to feel obligated to mate with me if you do not want to, Anabelle-vanni. Your body is your own. It belongs to no one other than you."

“I know that. I just— I'm not sure what it is that I want to do," she sighed, struggling with her inner turmoil. “I mean, if there's anyone in this world whom I know I could entrust my body to, that's you, and yet... the very idea of us mating scares me like you can't imagine. I know I should trust you, but... I can't help thinking that it'll hurt horribly. Like... like when m-my step-fath..."

“Shhhhh..." gently whispered Darkhowl, still stroking her hair. “Please do not feel guilty about not mating with me, my little angel-vanni. I understand that you are not ready, and likely will not be for a long, long time, for the wounds which have been inflicted upon you are not easy ones to heal."

“I'm sorry," she sighed. “You know... sometimes I wonder if I could have done more to fend him off at the time. Every now and then I'd go: 'I should have done this, I should have done that,' and whatnot. It haunts me. It's like... I can't help but think that, on some level, it was my fault that he defiled me."

“No," firmly, yet gently said Darkhowl. “In no way was it your fault that you ended up in the hands of an abominable monster. None of what he did to you was your fault. You did not deserve any of that, on any level. Unfortunately, you were in a position of vulnerability due to too many factors beyond your control, and that man took full advantage of it for his own nefarious ends. So, please, do not blame yourself for what that disgraceful man did to you, ever."

“I... try not to. Every day, I do. But it's difficult."

“I know it is. But I promise I shall be with you for as long as I can, holding you in my arms until the very end if at all possible. So, try to clear your mind and simply allow yourself to rest on my fur, if you would. Nothing more intimate than this needs to happen tonight, for I am happy just stroking your silky angelic hair like so," he affirmed in a calm, soothing tone as his gentle hands continued to caress her hair. “I am your servant, Anabelle-vanni. My love for you is unconditional. In other words, please cast away any feelings of guilt you may still possess about not mating me, as you have never owed me anything, and you never will."

“No, Darkhowl. I owe you everything."

The big werewolf thought it best not to argue with that.

“Tell me..." she eventually began after a few moments of companionable silence in the night. “What does mating mean to you?"

“Hmm..." he pondered, closing his amber lupine eyes for a moment as he carefully chose his next words. “Mating is communion — a holy miracle of nature. It is the most primal act of love between mates. To mate is to selflessly partake of one another's bodies to express that love. It is to briefly ascend to a higher plane together; to be one with your cherished soma-bonded partner. Mating is taking, sharing, giving and receiving for the sake of the other. It is both merging and liberating our hearts and souls at once. In essence, mating is the utmost expression of freedom. Or at least that is what I believe."

“That sounds... wonderful," longingly said Anabelle. “No. You are wonderful, like a dream come true. You always give me so much, without ever asking for anything in return. You, my savior, my mighty protector... I owe you more than you could possibly imagine. Yes, you may call yourself my servant, but... I think I belong to you, Darkhowl. Perhaps I always did."

“W-what are you saying, Anabelle-vanni?"

“I'm saying that I have no right to keep you from mating with me. Not when you're the mighty werewolf I had entrusted my life to," she said, gazing warmly into his surprised eyes. “Besides... I'm already in your arms, naked. Truly, I couldn't possibly be more vulnerable right now... and yet it feels right, like I am where I'm meant to be. So, m-maybe I should just swallow my fears and accept you fully. A-after all, I... I'm very clearly yours."

“My sweet angel-vanni..." he said, giving her a very gentle, if somewhat saddened smile. “I see that a part of you wants this to happen, but... the other part is still quite evidently frightened; and it has every reason to be, considering what you have been through. Please, understand that it would not be healthy for you to repress that fear just for my sake. I still maintain that we should not rush things unnecessarily."

“But if we don't do this now, then... when?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “We may have less than twelve hours before our bond is dissolved and we are both forcibly removed from each other's memories for good. This might be our last chance ever, Darkhowl. Yes, I'm scared, but I know that if I don't even try to power through my fear, I might simply never get another chance to experience something as magical as that 'utmost expression of freedom' you so passionately described to me."

The large werewolf sighed sadly.

“Ultimately, I will always do as you ask," he said, closing his glowing amber eyes for a few moments. “The desires of a vanni always come before the desires of her lycca. If you truly wish me to take you, I will. But first, I just want you to be absolutely sure that you will not regret pushing yourself to do something you might not yet be prepared for."

“Maybe I can't say I'm absolutely sure about this, but... I know that if I trusted you with the Offering of the Fangs, I should trust you with this too," softly said Anabelle as she caressed Darkhowl's furry cheek. “So, then, noble savior of mine... will you love me tonight? Please?"

There was a brief pause, and then:

“Little one... I shall."

~*~

The big, burly werewolf sat on the side of his rustic bedding. The small albino girl stood in front of him, reflexively covering her nakedness with her hands. Even though nothing was yet happening, his looming presence was already dominating hers with the same ease the shadow of a large wolf would dominate the shadow of a tiny dove. Indeed, metaphorically speaking, Darkhowl's overwhelmingly powerful alpha-male aura had permeated through the entire den, involuntarily making Anabelle feel very small and helpless. Certainly, her heart was racing, and for a moment she thought she'd faint on the spot the moment he made any move toward her, however small.

“Breathe, my little angel-vanni. I promise I will not hurt you. Remember that you stand before your soma-bonded lycca mate; he who has pledged his life to keep you safe and unharmed forevermore," he said.

“J-just... p-promise me y-you'll be gentle... p-please," she nervously stuttered out, trying valiantly to keep her fears under control. But the sight of the towering dark beast sitting in front of her made it so difficult...

“Of course I will be as gentle as gentle can be," he assured her. “I know you are bracing yourself for pain, but I need you to trust me that I will not hurt you. So, please do not fear my touch, for it will only bring you pleasure, never pain."

“I... I'll try," she said, inwardly begging her body to stop trembling already.

“Perhaps we should begin with a tongue-bonding kiss," he proposed. “Vanni tend to find them highly pleasurable, and I have heard that they can soothe an apprehensive heart like nothing else can."

Ah, yes, tongue-bonding; one of the three pillars of a fully solidified soma bond. Having lived in Howling Grove for ten days by that point, Anabelle had certainly seen that ancient lyccan ritual in action more than a few times. Both of her closest lycca-vanni friends, Marjorie and Rose, regularly joined lips with their respective werewolf mates, Fleetpaw and Daggerclaw, to engage in some lewd dance of the tongues with them. At first, whenever that occurred, she'd always turn away to avert her flustered eyes, but over time she slowly got used to seeing it happen.

But it was one thing to see other couples do it, and another entirely to actually do it herself with her Darkhowl. And every time Anabelle pictured her own self performing the act, she'd envision something like allowing a dog's tongue into her mouth; a mental image she obviously found quite revolting. Of course, she had asked both Rose and Marjorie about it, and they had both told her that lycca aren't dogs; that lycca are lycca, and that she owed it to herself to experience it with her own partner.

'So, the time has come,' she thought to herself, still trembling before Darkhowl. 'I— I'm going to let him put his tongue in... in my mouth... A-and then he's going to... lick me all inside... w-with his wolf tongue... a-and his s-saliva...'

“Anabelle-vanni..."

“Y-yes?" she exclaimed, startled.

“I just wanted to remind you that we can still simply go back to cuddling."

“N-no, it's fine! W-we are doing this!" she insisted, inwardly trying to fight off the disgusting mental images of herself getting a big dog's slobbery tongue in her mouth. “If you're going to mate me tonight, it only makes sense to start with a kiss, so... j-just do it. K-kiss me already."

And Anabelle shut her eyes tight, pursing her lips nervously. It was impossible to ignore just how tense she was. Thus, with a sigh, Darkhowl leaned closer to her and put a reassuring claw on her shoulder, causing her to gasp.

“Relax. I am not going to bite you," he said soothingly as he gently parted some loose strands of hair off her face with his other claw. “You know, a vanni's first kiss is a momentous occasion," continued the werewolf as he suddenly pulled the supremely tense girl into a most disarming embrace. “It is meant to be special, meaningful, memorable... and it has to come from the heart. It can never be forced, for it has to carry a valuable message — one that bypasses all the limitations of the spoken word and speaks directly to your soul. That, my beautiful angel-vanni, is the kind of first kiss I want you to have — the kind of kiss you justly deserve."

Tears filled her eyes. Tears which soon began to flow, running down her face. And so, as she felt his protective fur warmly enveloping her vulnerable naked body, she began to cry.

“I'm sorry!" tearfully wept Anabelle. “I'm so sorry that you had to soma-bond with such a stupid, worthless—"

Her entire world froze.

For a brief moment, time had simply ceased to flow, and nothing else existed other than Darkhowl's lips pressed against hers. It had happened so suddenly, her mind just couldn't process it. And so she simply stood there, frozen, her eyes opened wide.

Gently he cradled her head, hearing her emit a tiny gasp as his lupine tongue easily pushed past her lips and into her mouth. Within her arrested mind, an explosion of bright colors promptly ensued, taking down every barrier that was there. Slowly, her lids relaxed as her eyes rolled back into her head; all her anxiety swiftly melting into breathless nothingness. Thus, Darkhowl's warm, wet muscle tenderly caressed the inside of Anabelle's conquered mouth, paying particular attention to her own tongue, which simply lay there in utter submission.

The experience was... unlike anything she had ever felt before, and certainly nothing like the awful slobbery mess she had imagined. Soothing and electrifying at once, her first tongue-bonding kiss sent her mind to another realm entirely; a sublime one where all was Darkhowl, and Darkhowl was all. And it was there where she could finally hear the silent, wordless message his mighty conquering tongue was conveying to her as it gently danced within her thoroughly enthralled mouth:

'You are neither stupid nor worthless. You are my Anabelle-vanni, and I love you.'

When time resumed its flow and she came back to her senses, the large werewolf had already withdrawn his tongue from her mouth and was simply smiling at her warmly.

“So, did it work? Are you feeling more relaxed now?" he softly asked.

“D...Darkhowl, th...that..." she began, still feeling the lingering high of the lyccan tongue-bonding experience. “I... never knew that... anything in this world... could feel this... this... amazing..."

“I am going to take that as a yes," he said, smiling contentedly. “And if you thought that was great, just you wait until you have experienced the actual act of mating."

She opened her eyes wider, as though she could not believe that it was possible for anything to feel even better.

“Y-you mean to say... that wasn't... 'the utmost expression of freedom'?" she asked, her mouth agape.

“You could say it was only a small fraction of it. A tiny sample, if you will," he softly spoke; his gravelly voice flowing like the most irresistible honey. “Soon, surely, I will take you to heights you have never even dreamed of — wondrous heights that may only be reached by virtue of the sacred soma bond between a vanni and a lycca. Tonight, my little angel, I promise pleasure will acquire a whole new dimension of meaning for you. And I cannot wait to see you experiencing it."

“Wh...what should I do? A-are you going to... mate me now?" she asked; her heart pounding in her chest again, but not out of fear this time.

“No. Or, rather, not right away, and not in the manner you might be imagining it," he mysteriously said. “Tonight, I think it will be best for me to relinquish control to you. I will simply sit here and let you do with me anything you wish."

'And the reason for this,' Darkhowl thought to himself, 'is that I fear that positioning myself over you and taking control of the mating could have an adverse effect on your psyche at this time. It would be akin to re-enacting the moment your odious step-father defiled you, and I simply cannot have that happen. The last thing you need is to see his face in me as I mate you. But it is my hope that by taking on a passive role and allowing you to do things at your own pace, I will be able to help you work towards a climax powerful enough to undo most of the lingering psychological damage he inflicted upon you.'

“A...anything I wish?" repeated Anabelle, blushing adorably. “But... W-what should I do?"

“Whatever you want to do with the body of this large lyccan beast that has just surrendered to you completely," he answered, smiling. “The sky is the limit, my little angel-vanni. You are in control now, so you decide how you would like to play with me."

“B-but, I... don't even know what I sh-should even be doing..." the petite albino girl said as she gave bashful sideways glances to the massive werewolf sitting invitingly on the bedding in front of her.

“Well... The discovery of the other's body is an important part of mating," said Darkhowl. “Intimately exploring your partner during foreplay can be very rewarding in and of itself. After all, the most primal parts of our minds crave physical contact as a way to give and receive affection. It is a basic need that is deeply ingrained in nearly every living creature on Earth. In fact, that is a big part of why you like it so much when I hold you close to my chest. So, if you are willing to discover more of my body beyond the feel of my fur, I invite you to explore me, Anabelle-vanni. I am all yours."

Oh, how fiercely her heart pounded in her chest. And how brightly she blushed.

“H...how... sh-should I... begin?" she asked.

“Hmm... Well, you have caressed my cheeks before, so that would be a good starting point, I would say," he proposed. “Come. Do not be afraid to let your hands express your innermost desires, for this night belongs to you."

And so, she gave a hesitant step forward, extending her hand toward the side of his face.

“There you go," he softly said as her delicate fingers dug into the thick fur of his lupine cheek. “Now, simply listen to your soma and let it guide your hand for you. And remember; nothing is off-limits, little one. So, feel free to explore away to your heart's content."

Slowly, she moved her hand onto the exuberant fur surrounding his neck. It was so thick, her entire hand disappeared underneath. And as the rich tactile sensations fed steadily into her limbic system, Anabelle began to want more. Soon, her wandering hand moved down from her partner's neck to feel his broad pectoral muscles.

“M...my God, just look at how strong you are..." she said in awe as her fingers dug shallow trenches along the fur coating his well-developed chest muscles. Almost without thinking, she moved onto his arm, avidly exploring his bulging deltoids, biceps and triceps with reckless abandon. “So strong... So male..." she absent-mindedly whispered to herself as she basked in the thoroughly breathtaking masculinity his body exuded.

“Ah... all that you touch is yours, my little angel-vanni," he said, reveling in the feeling of her delicate fingers hungrily sliding along the length of his strong, muscular arm. “It all belongs to you, and only you."

Moving back to the werewolf's torso, the awestruck albino girl dedicated several long minutes to exploring each and every one of his astonishingly chiseled abdominal muscles. She lazily traced every bulge and crease on that rippling wall of manly vigor, marveling at how hard and strong it felt to the touch.

Feeling more adventurous now, or perhaps spurred by the burning fire growing steadily in her nether regions, Anabelle allowed her fingers to trace the prominent V shape of Darkhowl's Adonis belt. Ah, how deliciously forbidden it felt to explore the enticing vascular beauty of that sinewy surface. And how it kept adding more and more fuel to that inner fire drenching her insides with need.

Then there were his sturdy thighs and legs; those tree-trunk masses of strong, bulging beastly muscle. Slowly did her quivering hands slide along the powerful limbs, paying particular attention to the inner side of his thighs for some unfathomable reason. She was panting now, her own body pearled all over with countless droplets of glistening sweat...

Up to that point, Anabelle had been trying her hardest to ignore the large mass that lay between the strong, muscular thighs her kneading hands had been busy with. It was such an attention-grabbing presence too; one that she didn't want to acknowledge, perhaps because she thought she'd faint on the spot if she did something as sinfully lewd as staring directly at it. But her trying not to look at that bulging mass when it was less than an arm's reach away from her face was, in essence, a fool's errand. Although she valiantly did all she could to keep her eyes averted, there simply was no fighting the superbly strong magnetic pull it seemed to exert on her gaze.

It was inevitable, as all paths led to it. In the end, Anabelle had to accept that she had to face the final frontier. And so she looked. And a shocked gasp immediately escaped her lips as her eyes widened, her pulse quickened, her blush deepened... Even at only half-mast as it was, its impressive size and girth already rightfully demanded their due respect. Certainly, that was the pride of a true alpha male, and an uncontestable testament to his stallion-like lyccan vigor.

“Oh, my God..." quietly exclaimed the stunned girl, now finding it impossible to pry her gaze off its disarming presence. “Darkhowl... M-may I... t-touch it?"

“All that is mine is yours, Anabelle-vanni," he repeated reassuringly. “Like I said before, no part of my body is off-limits to you."

After a moment of heart-pounding hesitation, the terminally blushing albino girl made contact with that which beckoned her on a primal level. The size, the heft, the texture... All of it was simply mesmerizing. Irresistible, even. Slowly she slid her fingers along the sizable virile warmth, taking notice of each snaking, bulging vein crisscrossing its generous girth. Travelling upwards and downwards, Anabelle's wandering hands alternated between caressing the steadily engorging pillar of maleness and worshipping the hefty orbs underneath as her enthralled gaze stared at it through half-lidded eyes.

And then, a sudden urge seized her whole self. It made her spring forward and bury her face just under the base of Darkhowl's endowment, deep between the roots of the two pendulous orbs hanging underneath. Before her rational mind could even begin to process what was happening, she reflexively inhaled as deeply as her lungs would let her, promptly flooding her nostrils with the werewolf's potent scent. Although it was in no way offensive to the senses, said scent certainly carried a decidedly strong manly musk that pierced directly into the innermost layers of Anabelle's brain, immediately submerging her mind into a most wonderful haze of intoxicated lightheadedness.

Or, in other words, she got drunk on his musky, masculine scent.

In the inebriated stupor that followed, Anabelle greedily coated the entire mast with her saliva in a frenzy of sloppily wet kisses and licks. 'More,' her innermost primal instincts demanded as her tongue and lips danced hungrily all over the hardened malehood. 'More, more, more, MORE.'

At last, the frenzy subsided and she came back to her senses — mostly. Darkhowl's fleshy spear stood proudly before her, fully engorged and slick with both its own fluids and her saliva. Panting heavily now, with sweat tracing copious rivulets down her skin, the petite girl could almost feel her nether folds overflowing with the unbearable fire of her lustful desire. She absolutely needed that itch scratched, and she needed it now. But...

“Alright, my wonderfully greedy angel-vanni. My nose tells me that you are more than ready now," said the werewolf. “Climb on me, then, if you will."

“B...but Darkhowl..." quietly spoke Anabelle, understandably concerned. “T-there's no way that could fit. It'd kill me."

“I assure you that your body is very much ready to handle me, Anabelle-vanni. That is what your scent is telling me right now, and scents never lie," he said, tapping his own lupine nose lightly with his index finger. “Besides, I promised you that there would be no pain tonight, and I still stand by that promise. I only need you to trust me one more time, just like you trusted me with the tongue-bonding ritual. Trust that I will take you to those wondrous heights I told you about, and it will happen."

“A...alright. But, please, be gentle..." she said, already losing herself in his eyes.

“Always. Though you must not forget that you are still in control. You decide how much of me you want inside your body, and you set the pace of the consummation of our union. None of that has changed. I will simply hold you steady and guide your descent. Everything else will be in your hands. And, of course, we can still stop anytime you wish."

Slowly, and not without some trepidation, Anabelle crawled atop the large werebeast. With his sizable hands on either side of her hips, Darkhowl gently aligned the delicate entrance to her sacred womanly shrine with his beastly alpha-male endowment. Although the young albino girl was certainly intimidated by the sheer size of her mating partner, the glistening juices of her unbearable need were already leaking down her thighs; a testament to the sexual readiness of her youthful petite body.

As she held onto the werewolf's muscular torso for support, Anabelle closed her eyes, bit her lip and began to lower herself onto the waiting, throbbing column of veiny masculine flesh. Despite all of Darkhowl's reassuring promises, she still braced herself for a painful experience. Soon, the slickened red helmet parted her quivering folds, sliding effortlessly into the soaking wetness of her warm womanly passage...

And there was no pain.

Although she certainly felt the rock-hard girth stretching her intimacy wide, it didn't hurt at all. On the contrary; it felt good, as though Darkhowl's impressive lyccan malehood was the missing puzzle piece that completed her. And she wanted— no, she needed more. Thus, a series of gasps and moans escaped Anabelle's mouth as she began to rock her hips reflexively in a subconscious effort to get more of that shockingly pleasing filling sensation.

The electric waves of pleasure radiating from her nicely stretched inner depths began to wash over her brain. Something powerful was growing within her; something explosive that demanded release. 'Faster, harder, deeper!' insistently shouted her innermost instincts to herself. 'Take it all! Surrender to the conquering might of his sacred phallus and let it make us whole!'

At last, she collapsed over his chest, wrapping her arms around his muscular neck. “Give me all of you, Darkhowl!" she desperately begged. “Make me yours!"

And Darkhowl complied.

Taking back control, he enveloped her smaller frame with his strong arms, holding her tight. Then, he began to rock his hips back and forth with animalistic vigor, mightily slamming her insides with his beastly malehood, taking her to a whole new realm of unbridled pleasure; her Moon Pendant shaking wildly around her neck. In a way, she was like a tiny ship at the mercy of a roaring, wolfish thunderstorm in the middle of the sea. So did the primal, uncontainable force of Darkhowl's unbound desire rhythmically rock Anabelle's entire body toward their inexorable mutual climax.

Finally, with a gruff grunt and a powerful last thrust, the werewolf drove all of his unyielding flesh into her tight velvety tunnel, promptly pumping her full of his warm and plentiful lyccan seed. Even through the haze of her release she could feel his liquid essence flooding her insides, claiming her as his and making her whole at long last. There were no words to describe the colossal rapture that shattered Anabelle's mind into the next dimension. As it turned out, 'utmost expression of freedom' had only barely begun to scratch the surface of what was, in spirit, the ultimate form of soma-bonded bliss.

After a few magical moments of ethereal weightlessness, the divine glory of the plateau gave way to the soft, hazy veil of the afterglow. Slowly did Anabelle's heightened spirit float back down to Earth; to where her blissfully limp body lay. “Ah..." she sighed contentedly, relaxed well beyond what she ever thought possible. Her torturous past, the rule she broke, the test she was doomed to fail... none of that existed. Or, at least at that particular moment, and as far as she was concerned, everything was perfect in the world.

“Darkhowl, my mighty savior..." she quietly said, gazing dreamily into his lupine amber eyes, “I love you."

“And I love you, my little angel-vanni," he said back, smiling happily.

“I felt it," continued the girl. “The utmost freedom you spoke of; I felt it... and it was just as marvelous as you said it was. Thank you for taking me to that wonderful height. Thank you, thank you... A thousand times thank you."

“No. Thank you for trusting me," he said after licking her cheek lovingly. “It was your trust that made it happen."

“I will trust you forever," she promised, giving him a kiss on his canine nose. “No matter what, I will always, always trust you."

“You honor me, my Anabelle-vanni. I have no words to tell you just how happy I am."

“Me either," she said as she stroked his furry cheek. “But... I do have words to tell you that I want more of you. So... can we maybe do it again?"

“Of course we can. However many times you would wish. Nothing pleases a lycca more than giving boundless pleasure to his vanni."

“Then let's do it. Let me experience you all over again. I want to touch you, kiss you, worship you, taste you, explore you, feel you... All that your powerful alpha-male body can give me, I crave it. I... want to drain you, Darkhowl."

“You are very much welcome to try!" said the werewolf, smiling. “But I must warn you: it is very difficult to fully drain a lycca. I am afraid you will sooner exhaust yourself than deplete my stamina."

“Is that so? Well, I suppose we'll see..." sultrily said Anabelle as she crawled towards Darkhowl's lower abdomen, where the massive pillar of virile flesh rested. She didn't waste time taking what she could fit of it into her mouth, eager to indulge herself in savoring its addictive manly scent, the rich texture of its thickly vascular skin, and the intoxicating taste of his salty masculine fluids.

For the next few hours, their moans and gasps dominated their den as the two soma-bonded mates consummated their union time and time again, in various manners. However, just as Darkhowl had said, Anabelle ultimately failed to completely drain him, though not for a lack of trying. Indeed, after her tenth orgasmic climax, her fully spent self simply collapsed into a deep, peaceful sleep in his arms, bringing their very first mating marathon to an end.

“Sweet dreams, my lustfully lovely little angel. I love you," softly spoke the werewolf as he gazed warmly upon the beautiful serenity of Anabelle's sleeping form.

~*~

The next morning...

A number of werewolves stood near the ivory gate. Among them were Rose, Daggerclaw, Marjorie, Fleetpaw, Darkhowl and... Anabelle. She stood the closest to the gate, facing it with a mixture of fateful fear and tragic determination. Hanging from her neck, her Moon Pendant was glowing.

“So, looks like this is it..." somberly said Marjorie, who stood next to Fleetpaw's smaller frame.

“Yeah..." sadly nodded Anabelle. “It was already glowing when I woke up this morning. I guess there's nothing else to do but to face whichever fate awaits me on the other side."

“Wait," said Rose, stopping her. “You don't need to do this right away. The gate will wait for you for twenty-four hours before it automatically fails you, remember? That means you still have at the very least twelve more hours to spend in your mate's arms or something."

“No," said the snow-white she-werewolf, giving her trainer and friend a half-smile. “I already spoke to Darkhowl about this, and we both agree that there's no point in dragging this out further. If the Grand Alpha truly is willing to listen to me, then the least I could do is show him that I'm not going to delay whatever punishment he has ready for me. I'll face it head on, with dignity. If that doesn't show him my resolve, nothing will."

“I understand," firmly nodded Rose, touched; a blaze of pride and respect glowing brightly in her eyes. “Go get 'em, Anabelle! We'll be rooting for you!"

“Yeah, girl!" added Marjorie. “Make sure you come back to us, okay? We'll be waiting here!"

“I promise I'll do my best!" replied Anabelle, tearing up.

As Rose and Marjorie stood back, Darkhowl approached his beloved vanni for one last good-bye.

“Darkhowl..." said the snow-white werewolf girl, turning to him. “I don't know what's going to happen, but... I want you to know that you will always be my savior."

“And you will always be my beloved angel-vanni; she who graced this big lycca with the high honor of choosing him to be her servant and soma-bonded mate."

“Hug me, Darkhowl," she tearfully asked, her wavering voice cracking. “Let me feel the warmth of your strong, protective arms holding me safe one more time, please..."

The large werewolf didn't make her ask twice. Soon, his mighty lyccan arms were tightly wrapped around her white-coated body, giving her the fierce embrace her agitated heart needed.

“Please return to me, Anabelle-vanni," he said to her, betraying vulnerability for the very first time.

“I... I will," she promised, sniffling. Deep down, they both knew that she was in no position to promise anything of the sort, but those were the only words he wanted to hear at that time, so she made him that promise anyway. Anything less would have surely broken his noble lyccan heart.

Finally, the white she-werewolf turned toward the gate.

Clutching her glowing Moon Pendant, she took a step forward. With an ominous roar of sliding rock, the ornate ivory gate opened inwards before her. Beyond only lay darkness.

'Grand Alpha, here I come,' Anabelle thought to herself as she crossed the gate's threshold, trying to steel her spirit. And then, once she was swallowed by the veil of darkness, the heavy slab of ivory closed shut of its own accord. Rose, Marjorie, Darkhowl and the others watched solemnly as it happened; silently praying for the tragic albino girl to find favor in the enigmatic alpha of the Howling Grove lyccan pack.

Minutes passed. Many of the other werewolves went on their daily routines, but not Darkhowl. The big lycca simply sat down in front of the gate, gazing at it in silence as would a faithful dog waiting patiently for his master to return home after a long day of work. Rose and Marjorie stayed there too, as did their respective soma-bonded mates.

“Don't worry, big guy," the robust she-werewolf with the gray coat of fur said to Darkhowl. “We're going to stay here with you."

“Yeah," nodded Rose. “I'm not moving from this spot until either she comes back to us... or we all suddenly forget what we are even doing here."

“Marjorie-vanni, Rose-vanni, thank you," he said with earnest appreciation.

“Have faith, noble pack brother of mine," spoke Daggerclaw. “Believe in your vanni as she has believed in you."

“Sh-she will make it," awkwardly, yet sincerely said Fleetpaw. “I, uh... I have faith that our exalted Grand Alpha will understand her, um... circumstances."

Darkhowl, arguably the tallest and strongest lycca in the pack, had always been seen as a big brother of sorts by all his packmates. This was doubly true for Fleetpaw, whom — as the runt of the pack — couldn't help but admire the large werebeast with all his heart, seeing him as both a paragon of lyccan virtue and a role model to follow. Thusly, he was very happy to hear him say:

“Daggerclaw, Fleetpaw... Thank you, my brothers."

More minutes passed by. None of those five werewolves moved from their spots. They simply waited; their souls united by their solemn companionship. Like Rose had said, all five of them were determined to stay there until either Anabelle returned to them, or all traces of her were removed from their memories. The huntress had set her hourglass nearby, eyeing it every now and then.

'Don't you dare take her from us, Grand Alpha,' she bitterly thought to herself, making a silent, powerless fist as she watched the sand flow.

At last, fifty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds after Anabelle had entered the Grand Alpha's chamber, the ivory gate opened again. Everyone turned their gazes to it at once. Darkhowl stood up, and his tail began to wag furiously. All eyes were on the impenetrable darkness that extended past the opened gate, waiting with bated breath for their friend to come forth...

And then, finally, a figure emerged. Walking on four paws, a beautiful white she-wolf with resplendent green eyes exited the chamber. She was smiling.

“Anabelle!" shouted Marjorie and Rose in unison as the ivory gate closed. Anabelle simply smiled. Then, she changed back into her werewolf form just in time to receive the ferocious hugs of her two lycca-vanni friends.

“You did it! You came back, girl!" jubilantly shouted Marjorie as she ruffled the fur of her head, inadvertently smothering her between her ample features.

“I knew you'd be forgiven! After all, as far as I'm concerned, you did nothing wrong!" exclaimed Rose, patting her back with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm.

But Anabelle only smiled.

Just as the huntress began to notice that something wasn't quite right, the white she-werewolf turned to Darkhowl and silently pointed at her own mouth. Then, she crossed her index fingers in front of it, forming an X shape. The large male werewolf stared at her for a few moments, until he finally gave her a sad nod of his head.

“Then, me too," he declared before pulling her into his arms. And those were the very last words anyone had ever heard him say.

“Anabelle... Y-you can't speak?" asked Rose, receiving a brief shake of the head in response.

“The Grand Alpha took your voice?" asked Marjorie in turn, receiving another, more vigorous shake of the head.

“I, uh... I think A-Anabelle-vanni was made to take a vow of silence," humbly offered Fleetpaw. “T-there are accounts of, um, something like this happening once, about five centuries ago. If I recall well, a lycca-vanni had to voluntarily take a permanent vow of silence as, uh, penance for unnecessarily drawing her lyccan claws against a human. T-the alternative to that was, as you would imagine, the prompt severance of her soma bond and, um, banishment."

“Is that so?" asked the jet-black she-werewolf. “But... I thought no vanni ever remembers anything of what happens inside the chamber! If this vow of silence thing is voluntary, how did Anabelle even remember that she had agreed to taking it in the first place?"

“Do you remember anything else, girl?" Marjorie asked the white lycca-vanni. “Can you recall what the Grand Alpha looks like, or what his Oneness Test is about?"

Anabelle shook her head dejectedly, making it clear that she didn't remember anything else other than taking that vow.

“I see..." sighed the big gray she-werewolf. “Well, I suppose that's fine. The most important thing is that you're here. In the end, that's really all that matters."

“Right, though I can't imagine how awful it must be not being able to speak ever again," said Rose, crossing her arms and swishing her tail in frustration. Then, turning to Fleetpaw, she asked him: “What would happen if she broke the vow?"

“I, um... I would imagine the same thing as if she had refused to take it in the first place," answered the small, lightly-built werewolf with the bluish coat of fur. “T-that is to say, banishment and—"

“Yeah, okay, I get it. Well, I suppose it could have been worse..." she said, watching Anabelle smiling contentedly in Darkhowl's arms, her eyes closed. “But, as long as she's happy, I guess that's fine."

“Maybe later we can see about teaching her how to read and write," proposed Marjorie. “It may take years, but I think we should give it a try anyway, for her and Darkhowl's sakes."

“I guess, though that's more your domain than mine. Between the two of us, you're the brains and I'm the brawn, remember?"

“Oh, I know. When I said 'we,' I meant my fluffball and me! You can keep polishing her physical aptitude if you want, Miss Books-are-boring," she said, giving Rose a toothy smile of friendly rivalry.

“You bet I will! She's only the second best sparring partner I've ever had after you, and I know she can grow much stronger still!" answered the huntress with a hot-blooded grin.

And thus they continued talking about Anabelle in this manner for several minutes more, even though the white she-werewolf in question was hardly paying attention to any of it, happily lost as she was within the loving warmth of Darkhowl's protective embrace.

~*~

One year later, on the second night after receiving her Moon Stone, Elise listened attentively to Anabelle's story at a sleepover in Darkhowl's den. Both Rose and Marjorie related said story to her themselves, since the white she-werewolf had long voluntarily renounced to her own voice in exchange for the Grand Alpha's pardon.

By the end of the story, Elise was understandably humbled, as well as in awe. She could have never suspected the kind of hellish existence her silent friend had to trudge through before hearing the liberating call of the forest and meeting her lycca savior.

“Rose was right," she said to the white lycca-vanni, still in awe. “You are incredibly strong, Anabelle. Both in body and in spirit. I... don't know if I could have endured even a quarter of... of all that."

Anabelle simply smiled. Even though only one year had passed, those torturous days of her painful past already felt so distant to her. She truly was a different Anabelle now — stronger, wiser and infinitely happier. As with all the other vanni in Howling Grove, the Offering of the Fangs had essentially allowed her to be born again, granting her the absolute freedom she always deserved. And so, together with the lycca who completed her and the dear friends who stood by her side, she now lived in perfect harmony with nature. As they all did.

“Yes, I remember the fire," said Elise, reminiscing. “I heard about it the next morning. But I could have never imagined what had happened in that house on that night. All along, and as far as I know, everyone thought Mr. Marder lived in there all by himself. I had heard that he was a widower, but no one ever knew you even existed, Anabelle."

“And the only person who knew, that Child Protection Services inspector from Roud, never crossed paths with anyone else," observed Marjorie.

“Yeah, that was so unfortunate; though I suppose it couldn't be helped, since he didn't live in the village and only visited them once a month," the grayish brown werecanid girl lamented. “Oh, and you know what else was unfortunate? I always waved Anabelle's step-father hello as I passed by his home whenever I went to the market. And I did it so cheerfully too! God, do I feel disgusted now. Ah, if only we had known what kind of horrible monster he was."

The white she-werewolf shook her head appreciatively, as though she was trying to convey something like: 'Don't worry. That's all in the past now.'

“Listen, Anabelle," suddenly spoke Elise again, a spark of determination filling her eyes. “When it's my turn to cross the ivory gate, I promise you I'm going to ask the Grand Alpha to release you from your vow of silence. God knows you've suffered enough already."

The silent lycca-vanni began to make a gesture akin to: 'It's fine; you don't have to,' but it was quickly interrupted when Elise simply threw her arms around her body and gave her a firm hug.

“You leave it all to me, okay?" she told her. “As your friend, I want to do my part too, and you won't convince me otherwise."

“Well said!" loudly proclaimed Rose. “And make sure to relay my and Marjorie's sentiments as well, alright?"

“Will do! All for one and one for all, isn't it?"

“Hah, that sounds familiar! What was that from again?"

“It's from 'The Three Musketeers,' Rose," sighed Marjorie with exasperation. “Seriously, read some freakin' books!"

“Make me, ya big nerd!"

“Ah, I swear you're impossible sometimes!"

“Only sometimes? Man, I must be losing my touch!"

Thus, the rest of the night passed as the four vanni laughed the somber sorrow of Anabelle's story away, replacing it with the warmth brought forth by the tight sisterly bonds that made up the foundation of their odd companionship.

And then, the next day...

To be continued...