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Accepting Mortality
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The Pack's Hybrids The Plague
Concordia, Nine Hundred and Fifty Years BeforeThe plague spread with frightening speed amongst any human that had any contact with the new slaves. Meguitte tried desperately to contain it to the harbour and the stronghold, but it leaked out into the city, seeping through the streets and to neighboring strongholds. They did not understand how it did so, how it passed so efficiently between person and person.At some stage, the new slaves also sickened.“I have seen this spoken of before in my mother’s grimoire,” Meguitte said grimly. “I wish that I had it still, but it was long ago burnt. In my mother’s village, there was an illness, a pox. Every year, with the change of season it would return and kill almost everyone who sickened with it, but it grew weaker or the survivors stronger, and soon it was no longer something to be feared, but just a minor inconvenience.“It would have been the same for these new people, Thaelen,” she continued. “Whatever wakes these illnesses would occur,
The Pack's Hybrids The Storm
Concordia, Nine Hundred and Fifty Years BeforeThere was a reason that the vampires raided at certain times of the year. The stretch of ocean between Concordia and the neighbouring continent became treacherous in the wrong seasons. The passage across to the other continent was miserable as a result, spent cramped below deck, or saturated on the slippery deck aiding with adjusting the sails and riggings.They travelled without blood slaves and reached the other shores starved and feral, attacking the villages with a savagery unusual to them. They sated their hunger brutally, reduced to beasts by their thirst, and wasted no time celebrating their conquest or taking valuables from the village. They loaded what food and water they could onto the ship, along with every human, male, female, child, leaving only the sick and elderly behind, before moving on. They took three villages, much closer together than they liked, and turned sail back to Concordia.The slave pens below deck were overcr
The Pack's Hybrids The Witch Hunt
The Coast of Alden, Nine Hundred and Forty Five Years Before An army approached the village, but not the army that Thaelen sought. This one came from inland, not from the sea. He watched from the shelter of the trees, squatting in the tangled roots, using his flint-knife to skin the rabbit that had been his breakfast. He had been intending to take the brace of rabbits that he had caught that morning to the little fishing village where he was currently staying. The rabbit’s meat had no value to him. It’s guts and skin, however, were another matter. He would stretch the guts into string and use it to sew the hides into clothing and boots, such as he wore. A brace of rabbits could be traded for many things of value in the village – from clothing made from cloth woven by the village women, blades made of metal, or even coins which, eventually, might buy him a night in a tavern, a glass of wine, a warm bath, and a bed. The arrival of an army from inland disrupted his plans, and he watche
The Pack's Hybrids Thaelen's Fury
Concordia, Nine Hundred and Forty Five Years Before Thaelen fixed a smile on his face as he walked towards the soldiers. They were laughing and muttering amongst themselves, their attention on the house where the young woman’s screams had changed tone, losing the sharpness, becoming resigned to her fate. I’m sorry, Thaelen thought to her. He had made a callous choice to use her to buy the time to tend the child and old woman. It had been a dispassionate, cruelly efficient prioritization. The guard before him met his eyes, his expression becoming alarmed as he recognized the death in Thaelen’s expression. He began to draw his sword, but Thaelen reached him first, snapping his neck and throwing him into the others, so that they fell under the weight. He caught the arm of a soldier who escaped the burden of the body, preventing his sword from striking, and pulled the arm from the socket, tearing the sword from the hand as the soldier screamed, whilst catching the soldier against him, hi
The Pack's Hybrids Making a Friend
Concordia, Nine Hundred and Forty Five Years BeforeThaelen heard her follow, her footfalls clumsy through the undergrowth of the forest floor, the noise silencing the wildlife who shared the trees with them. Although he knew that her survival was more assured in his company, she was a complication that he didn’t want to deal with. She had already stabbed him in the stomach in a moment of unexpected treachery. He would be unable to sleep until he delivered her to her destination, or risk that she tried to kill him again.“Why do you have daggers and a bow, if you do not need them?” She asked as they wound their way between the trees. “You did not use a weapon with the soldiers…”“I had the element of surprise today,” he replied as they reached the small campsite where he had been staying on the bank of a fresh-water creek that ran towards the beach. He lifted off his leather tunic and laid it on a rock, hissing in a breath as it stretched his barely-repaired stomach wound. He knelt by
The Pack's Hybrids Besafora
Concordia, Nine Hundred and Forty Years Before Thaelen paused in his labor to remove his shirt and cast it to the ground. He was filthy but had almost completed caulking the hull with oakum. He squinted up at the sun. Another hour, and he would go down to the beach for a swim. He might encounter Ettel’s husband, Ferin, on the sand, and be able to discuss the next stage of the ship building with him. As a fifth-generation fisherman, Ferin had participated in many ship-builds and would, on occasion, come and assist Thaelen with his project. Thaelen would then wait until night fell to head down to the village for his evening meal. There was always someone who wandered from the house alone, to take a piss, meet a lover, or to check something that they left undone from the day. He would stalk through the houses until he found a likely human and could discretely take what he needed from them. He had his favorite regular meals - the repressed priest of the One God who preached about purity
The Pack's Hybrids Delwyn's Education
Concordia, Nine Hundred and Forty Years Before Thaelen undressed slowly, lifting the shirt up his torso, the knap of the fabric rasping on his skin and the neckline gathering his hair as he lifted it over his head. He dropped it onto the table and stood waiting assessment. The past ten years had made him lean, and the physical exertion of building a ship had refined that leanness into muscle. “Ah, very, very nice,” Besafora rested the tip of the jade phallus against her lips and the pink tip of her tongue darted out to trace the slit carved into the stone. “Delwyn?” “Yes,” Delwyn agreed breathlessly. “He is… um…” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and giggled. “Rather… pleasing.” Besafora chuckled with satisfaction. “The rest of it my king, if you please?” Thaelen smothered his smile as he released the ties of his trousers, and let them sag on his hips. “Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow teasingly. “I don’t look like your green carving. I would hate to disappoint.” “I’
The Pack's Hybrids Sex in the Ute
Havermouth, Two Weeks Before“Uh-ah,” Heath snagged Rhett by the wrist when his dark-haired mate went to get into the front passenger seat. He tugged him back and nudged him into the backseat. “You’re mine,” he leered, gripping the doorframe and caging Rhett in as he landed on his back and pushed himself up on his elbows his face lighting in surprised laughter.“F-king oath, Heath, be gentle,” Rhett snickered. “Take me to dinner first, perhaps?”“You are dinner,” Heath swung into the cab and closed the door behind him.“I’m always driving,” Cameron pouted as he put the Ute into reverse and backed out of the driveway of Aislen’s house.“Ute is best for this. Small windows, high up,” Heath replied as Rhett slid along the seat until the back of his head and shoulders were against the door. Heath crawled over him, and ran his tongue over Rhett’s bottom lip, nipping the lip ring between his teeth and giving it a slight tug. “I’ve been thinking,” he murmured against Rhett’s lips. “About how
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