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It turns out, when one is a parent, being late to events becomes a more frequent occurrence. Despite not being a particularly organized person, Caitlyn is punctual. Or was, rather.
Getting ready on time for that evening’s get-together wasn’t the problem. Her daughter was relatively easily amused, being just shy of 8 months old, so she was captivated by the jingling, spinning mobile over her play mat. The mechanical piano music playing from it was bright and sharp, nursery songs drawing the attention of her daughter’s eyes. Cait glances at her every few moments from just beyond the doorway of her bathroom as she applies makeup.
She pulls her long hair up and away from her neck, the dangling earrings she’d chosen shiny where they fall from her long elvish ears. Her hands swipe over the silky material of her dress, smoothing it against her hips as she analyzes her appearance in the mirror.
“Are you going to be good for grandma?” She coos at her baby, exiting the bathroom and watching the infant wiggles on the play mat in response. “Of course you are, Junie is the best granddaughter in the whole world.”
The little werewolf gurgles in response, letting out a little squeal of delight when she’s lifted from the playpen and held against her mother’s hip.
What really delayed her arrival was her own mother, who spent no less than 20 minutes insisting on photographing her daughter and granddaughter. What was supposed to be a simple drop-off at the huge Kiramman manor turned into a photography session, with her mother insisting “just one more” more than once.
“Mother, I am late,” She mutters for the third time. The sun had dipped below the horizon, the hour ticking a little later.
“Oh, but you look so pretty, and your dress really brings out Junie’s hair color.”
It does, she agrees, the deep purple of her own garment playing against the lilac locks that whisp from her daughter’s head. She gives a little kiss to the crown where the waves part, her mother unsubtly capturing a picture for the umpteenth time.
“I have to go,” She says, pressing her daughter into her mother’s waiting hands. “Thank you again for watching her. Call me if anything happens, I can come by to grab her tonight if you need.”
She’s dismissed by Cassandra’s well-manicured fingers.
“I raised you perfectly well, I can handle your daughter. Besides, she’s far less fussy than you were at this age.”
She rolls her eyes, giving her mother a wave and exiting to her car, still thrumming from where she’d left it running in the driveway of her parents’ home. She’d, mistakenly, assumed it would be a quick in and out.
The elf is a little anxious walking up toward the familiar pub she’d been told to arrive at nearly 2 hours previous. She’d been to it countless times, especially back when she was still a field enforcer, far back before she’d first met her mate.
The bar was only a few blocks down from the precinct where both Cait and Vi’s offices were located, the building homey and familiar. She knew it, and most of the people within it, but she felt a little out of practice suddenly, being several months since she’d dealt with a larger group of her colleagues since having Juniper in September.
Her anxiety dissipates though, when she pushes open the great wooden door of the pub and enters the warm space. The chill of the late spring evening kicks up around her, swirling her dress around her knees as the doorway falls closed.
“Cait!” Jayce exclaims immediately. The minotaur is standing just off from the entrance, engaged in conversation with another enforcer, still in half-uniform with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up around his strong forearms.
The space is all crafted wood and low candlelight, comfortable for the relatively large group that had come to occupy most of the dining area.
She grins up at him, giving him a long hug.
“Congratulations, Jayce.” His eyes are sparked with mirth, and maybe a little alcohol. The beer in his hand half-full, sloshing a little when he moves away from their embrace.
“Caitlyn!” A familiar voice calls out to her, Jayce’s girlfriend approaching from the table in the back. Beyond her, Caitlyn can tell the specialist division had taken over much of the restaurant, many familiar faces milling about. Since they share a building with Cait’s division, she knows at least half by name, but certainly not all.
Mel gives her a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze around her middle. Her copper-toned snakes are swirled high above her head, each one with a little gold collar that match the one around the woman’s neck.
“You’ve missed some of the festivities.” the gorgon exclaims, clutching her hand and grinning.
“Not too much of them, I hope.” She smiles back. “You play the proud girlfriend part well.”
“Oh, it’s not so hard with him,” She gestures to her boyfriend who is caught up in conversation once more. “He’s very good at his job.”
“I hear his partner had at least some hand in their success.”
Viktor’s voice is cool and accented, but tilted with amusement as he approaches on a familiar, unsteady gait. The common elf smiles, giving Cait her third hug of the evening, wrapping one arm around her back while leaning heavily on his cane with the other. He smells of whiskey and cologne, a lopsided quality to his smile that suggests some alcohol consumption.
“I think you had more than just some hand in it. How’s adjusting back to normal life after being undercover for so long?” She asks.
“Not so bad, I think I’ll stick around for a while.” He jokes warmly.
“I read the report yesterday, I really am very impressed with your work. It takes bravery to go up against such a huge operation like that.”
He shrugs, a little sheepish.
“I wasn’t sure I would be able to pull it off, but Jayce convinced me with his endless pestering.”
“Pestering?” The minotaur exclaims, mock offense. “I think that’s more your area, Zaunite.”
The conversation devolves into boyish ribbing, the two men little better than teenagers in their alcohol-fueled banter. The high elf watches on, nudging Mel in amusement, who rolls her eyes at the show.
She feels a little pull through her mating bond, the inkling that she’s being watched falling into her consciousness.
She glances up, meeting storm grey eyes across the low light of the restaurant. She offers a little tilt of a smile towards her mate, seated at a far table and caught in between two coworkers who lean into her space and chatter.
“And you’re not listening to me,” She comes back to the conversation at hand, offering an apology to Jayce who waves her off, amused. “It’s fine, I know your mate is probably not listening to a word around her either. You two aren’t hard to read.”
“I resent that, she’s definitely paying attention.”
She isn’t, she can tell by the curling of sensation in their bond, indicating she’s being watched with rapt attention.
“Go get her, I’ll grab you a glass of wine.” Her gorgon friend offering a little pat to her shoulder as she passes. Caitlyn does just that.
“Hey,” The werewolf’s hand slides around the silky fabric over her hip as Cait leans down to give her a kiss in greeting. “How’s it going?”
“Vi is drunk.” One of the coworkers drawls, a nymph with a flush on her cheeks. She isn’t the only one, Cait muses.
“I am not,” the werewolf insists, turning towards the nymph with a petulant huff. Caitlyn titters, noting the redness high on her cheekbones and her relaxed appearance. She’d undone the two top buttons of her shirt, her freckled collarbones bared to the world. “I’ve had, like, 3 beers.”
So just shy of drunk, then.
“Wow,” she jokes, “Really making the most out of having the baby away for the night.”
“Aw, you should've brought her! Vi shows us pictures like every day.” The other coworker, a selkie, scoots over another chair to give Cait room to take a seat next to her mate.
“Aw, you do?” She teases.
“She’s my little prodigy, of course I show her off.” The werewolf states, proudly.
The high elf relaxes into the arm Vi slings around her shoulder, grasping the glass of red wine offered to her.
“I think you deserve a night off, after working so hard these past few weeks.” Cait resumes after taking a sip, the dryness of the drink pulling at her pallet.
Mel perches across the table from them, her stylish cream-colored dress fanning around her when she sits.
“Yeah, Jayce had mentioned you’d worked on a lot of the research for this case.” The woman leans forward, interested.
Vi nods, her empty glass clinking against the table where she sets it. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to take a step back from the field since JJ was born, but once we got our lead last week I’ve been at the station until midnight like every night.”
Her fingers brush over Cait’s shoulder, a little sparkle of warmth.
“I’m glad I’ll be back to a regular schedule now, I feel like I’ve already missed some milestones.”
“There’ll be plenty more.” Cait muses, nudging her playfully.
It’s not hard to continue in easy conversation, the group inviting and warm in their drunkenness.
It’s late when they get home, Vi’s eyes drawing lower with fatigue by the time they’re making their way through their apartment entrance.
“You look like you had fun,” she muses, watching the woman as she unlaces her shoes by the door.
“Yeah, it was nice. Not often I get to drink on the city’s dime, y’know?” She looks up, her hair falling from where it’d been coifed backward cleanly, some curls of pink brushing over her face.
“You didn’t have too much?”
“Nah,” she shakes her head, stretching her arms over her shoulder. Her shirt rides up a little at the motion, drawing her partner’s eye to the strip of tanned skin. “But it’ll be good to not have to be up first thing in the morning.”
“Most definitely.” Caitlyn hums, watching as she puts away her coat and Cait’s too. Her eyes trail higher, over the broad span of her shoulders. A thrum of excitement passes through her abdomen.
She takes a step forward just as Vi steps away from the coat closet. It’s easy to press up against her, encourage her to move closer to the terracotta walls of their entryway. Vi startles a little, but goes easily when she’s urged to step forward, trapped there by the elf.
Cait lets her purse slide to the floor, the metal handcuffs she’d taken from her bag clicking open easily when she flips them in her fingers.
“I wanted to say congratulations.” Caitlyn’s voice is sweet like honey when she whispers like this, directly into the pointy ear of her mate. Vi stands, unsure, her body pushed to the wall of their entrance hallway. She can practically feel the power thrumming under her hands as she locks the magical cuffs around her thick, muscled wrists.
The loud click of them tightening is punctuated by Vi’s heavy swallow.
“I feel like,” she licks her lips, suddenly, inexplicably dry. “I feel like you already have said congratulations.”
A little spark of mischief brightens the mutual space of their bond. Cait can feel that her mate can tell she’s smiling even though her face is tilted away, head resting against the wall she’d been pressed again.
She feels the way Vi’s wrists flex under her hands, rotating within the confines of the handcuffs that sit snug but not tightly against the delicate skin there. Though magicked, she knows deep down the woman could escape the confines of them with relative ease. She’s a highly skilled enforcer, and a werewolf at that – the academy had taught them no less than a dozen ways to rid themselves of their own brand of restraints.
And yet, the tension bleeds from her shoulders, her arms hanging a little lower as she lets out a low exhale that Cait can feel from where she’s pressed up against her muscled back.
“Sure,” she plays along, “I might have said it with words, but there’s more than one way to show you how proud I am of you.”
Her height is an advantage, made more apparent since she’d yet to rid herself of the strappy heels she’d worn to the restaurant that evening. She uses it to curl over the shorter woman’s frame, pulling her away from the wall with a hand that cups her jaw.
The werewolf’s head lulls on her shoulder, allowing Cait to press a gentle kiss to the skin of her neck. She feels under her thumb and forefinger how her jaw clenches and relaxes, feeling the press of another hard swallow under her palm where it rests against her jugular.
“You’ve done so well,” she hums into the skin of her neck. “Working so hard, you really are an excellent mate. The best mate. Doing so much to provide.”
She feels the telltale clicking of Vi’s contented purr shake to life at the praise. The bond flairs with warmth as the words have her desired effect.
Cait presses another slow kiss to the skin, the line of her muscles shifting under the touch as the werewolf lets her head tilt a little further, offering her neck, quite literally, to the delight of the high elf pressed to her back.
She feels a smile pull at her lips, letting them fall open around the cord of muscle and press her teeth into the skin there without hesitation.
The noise that falls from Vi’s lips is sinful, a shudder vibrating through her at the sudden press of pain against the vital area.
The skin is a blossom of color when she pulls back, splotchy red from her biting sucks.
“I’m going to keep doing this until you ask me for something,” she offers, pressing another bite into the skin slightly below the first. Vi rewards her with another whine, adjusting her stance to press more of her weight against Cait’s body which she takes easily.
“I don’t,” she gasps in a breath, “I don’t know what I want, what. What can I ask for?” Vi sounds a little overwhelmed, which isn’t shocking considering Cait is toeing the line of submission and dominance for her instincts.
She hums, licking over the new mark she’d made and pondering.
Vi’s chest is heaving a little, a blush decorating her pretty face that Cait can only see a little of from the angle she’s standing at.
“You have an idea,” she knows suddenly. “Something you want me to do.” It makes her prickle with desire despite not knowing the specifics.
They were open with each other constantly, not just due to their bond connection but also from their lengthy talks on anything and everything they’d come to have on a regular basis. Some of their more depraved desires had made it onto the table but hadn’t been acted upon since mention.
Cait is salivating at the thought of some of those very ideas being presented before her now.
“Won’t you tell me?” She whispers into the skin beneath her lips, feeling the way the muscles shiver.
“I want you to use me,” her voice is quiet at the admission. She feels another swallow under where her hand rests.
The elf hums into another slow press of teeth.
“In what way?” She asks, partially teasing, but mostly curious.
“Just,” Vi lets out a little noise, maybe the building edge of frustration. “However. However you want.”
Cait pulls back with a little click of her tongue, feigning disappointment as she slides her hand into the hair covering the back of her skull. She tugs, feeling the answering moan.
“I thought you were going to be good for me,” she tones flatly, sounding despondent.
Vi jerks a little in her hold, letting out a little whine.
“I am,” she insists, voice a little desperate with a pleading tone curling on the edges of the words. “I will be.”
“I dunno,” Caitlyn pets at the hair under her hold, scratching at the back of her skull gently with her blunt fingernails. “You’re not being very good right now.”
“I can be. Tell me,” she pauses, licking her lips, which Cait watches with rapt attention. “Tell me what to do. I wanna be good.”
It’s music to her ears, Caitlyn cooing in response to the dynamic that lies before her. She always liked hearing her mate beg, the frantic tone bringing a wave of heat that prickles through her nervous system.
“You can start by elaborating what you mean by “use you,” since you left that… vague.”
“Please, I want. I wanna give you anything, everything.”
Her eyebrow quirks a little, “But this is supposed to be about you.”
Vi’s shakes her head, the movement limited by Cait’s hold on her hair, the locks pulling through her fingers a little.
“No, I just. I wanna give you as much as you can take, and then have you take more.”
“Ah,” she tones, something sliding into place in her mind. “You want me to get off as many times as I want and, what, leave you hanging?”
Vi makes a little noise in the back of her throat, too neutral to parse a response from. A blush is starting to fan from her cheeks down to her throat, the skin warming under the string of interrogating questions. She can feel something sing through their room-shaped space of their connection in her mind. Something like wanting.
“If that’s what you want,” she offers. “I wanna see what it’s like. For you to do that, to act just for yourself. To use me to do that. If I,” she licks her lips again, “If I don’t get off, that’s fine.”
Cait ponders this, fingers resuming their gentle scratches.
“Okay,” She decides a moment later, walking back a step to release the werewolf from where she’d been pressed between her and the wall. Vi sags for a moment, her hands flexing again in the cuffs as she rolls her shoulders and then turns to face the elf.
Cait takes another few steps back, descending to perch on the couch a few feet away. Her fingers make quick work of her shoes, the heels thudding as they’re discarded, followed swiftly by black tights.
When she straightens up, Vi had taken a few hesitant steps forward, her gaze flitting between the articles and Cait’s face. The elf reclines, letting her back rest against the couch a little more. The long line of her body draws her mate’s eyes down where she opens her legs.
The skirt of her dress hikes easily up around her hips, leaving her bare. She’s already a little wet, the slightly chilled air of their apartment prickling along her skin and providing stark contrast to where she’s warm and slick at her center.
“Well?” She quirks a manicured eyebrow, watching the werewolf who flushes down past where her shirt obscures her chest, the top few buttons popped as she’d consumed alcohol throughout the evening.
Vi is on her knees before she can blink, hitting the ground a little hard in her enthusiasm. She’s a little unsteady with her arms locked behind her but she shuffles forward, eyes reaching Cait’s just as she bends to press her mouth to her cunt.
She watches as the storm grey eyes flutter closed, Vi letting out an obscene noise and rolling her tongue over the seam of her labia. Cait watches, refusing to break away from the image, regardless of how many times she’s seen it.
It is, after all, a little different this time.
Usually Vi presses her hands into the plush skin of her inner thighs, or cups her ass to pull her hip forward and keep her where she wants her. With her hands restrained, all she can do is sink into her cunt, balancing on her knees before her.
Cait’s hips hitch when her tongue dips further inside of her, opening easily around the slick pressure. She hums, pressing lower and allowing the woman a moment to readjust her own posture before she’s back at it, laving her tongue upward to press through her opening.
The elf trails her hand down, pressing back the messy pink locks that are still somewhat stiff with gel. She likes it when Vi would slick back her hair, but really, she’s always preferred the unruly waves that curl over her pointy ears. The locks pull easy under her hand, tussling to unwind.
Her fingers fist there, grip giving her leverage to pull her head where she wants it. To press onto her clit, throbbing for stimulation.
The answering moan that presses right up against her is heaven, a little of the vibrations pressing to where her lips encircle the engorged organ. Cait spasms a little when she’s sucked on, the spike of pleasure rippling through her.
Her hips press upward, uncontrolled in her search for stimulation, a thread of wanting pulling through their bond. She can’t tell where hers begins & where Vi’s ends, but the feedback loop of satisfaction is heady where it spreads within her. She feels it when the werewolf presses a whine against her, her fingers clenching hard in her hair as she crests.
Cait makes a little, desperate noise when she comes. It’s a combination of hitching breath and a whimper, the slick pressure on her clit pulling her through her orgasm.
She can tell from her bond that Vi plans to keep going, continuing the ruthless sucks against her clit. The woman whines a little, despondent, as she pulls away and keeps her from moving forward by the tight-knuckled grip on her hair.
“Good girl,” she smiles down at her, stroking her free hand over her face and delighting when Vi nuzzles into it. She’s a little breathless, lungs not filling all the way during her orgasm.
“C’mon, up.” Caitlyn urges her back, scooting forward on the couch so she can stand. The werewolf is able to curl gracefully to stand, despite her restrained state, something Cait finds suddenly very hot.
She goes easily down the hall, the lamp in the reading corner of their bedroom still on from when Cait had been getting ready hours previous. She strips out of her dress, the silk smoothing over her skin and fluttering away to rest on the sage green armchair that sits there alongside the lamplight.
Vi stands, obediently waiting, watching her from a few steps away as she disrobes. Her eyes are hungry, trailing over her nude form as she approaches.
Their lips meet, easy and sweet, Cait wrapping herself around the woman. It’s easy to pull away her clothing, buttons opening easily under her long fingers. Her pants are easy to discard, but her shirts must remain due to the handcuffs preventing their removal.
She strokes up her clothed arms, curling her hands around Vi’s face and drawing her into a kiss.
One of her hands trails over her face gently, stroking her as she draws the hand downward to rest at the base of her throat. The prominent jugular notch presses under her palm, the heartbeat underneath strong and steady.
When she leans back, Vi tries to follow her lips, stopped just so by the press of the hand against her neck.
“Get on the bed.” She commands, hand pressing a little harder to Vi’s throat. She feels the strain of muscle there, the woman trying for just one moment more to press forward and capture her lips again. She relents when Cait doesn’t move to allow her, her hand flexing against the push.
She cracks a grin when the werewolf lets out a low, measured breath, as if steeling herself. She obeys, turning to sit on the mattress, straightening up to look up at her.
“Back,” she nudges her, gesturing to the head of the bed. Caitlyn is wet between her thighs, the saliva and slick collecting, shiny in the artificial light of their bedroom.
The werewolf adjusts, somewhat awkwardly, to lie back on the bed, propped slightly up on their pillows. Her shirt, where Cait had opened it, fans out around her torso, leaving her in nothing but a white compression top that rids up on her toned stomach.
Her dick is flushed, heavy where it rests against her abdomen. The elf tilts her head, taking in the woman’s form as she remains, obediently reclined, on their shared bed.
“I’m going to ride you,” she muses, sharing her plan as she walks a long curve around their bed, taking her time. She feels wordless excitement from the woman. “And I know, that since you’re a good girl, you’re not going to come.”
Vi nods in response, her head turned to watch her where she’s paused at her side of the bed, hovering near her night stand.
“But I want to make sure you won’t. So,” the drawer slides open, a handful of miscellaneous items within rocking at the motion. She shuffles through the half empty spell bottles, discarded receipts, and miscellaneous charging cords she hadn’t bothered to organize. There’re two vibrators in this drawer, a third in Vi’s own night stand, but she knows for certain the item she’s looking for had come to reside in this drawer.
The metal is cool when she grasps it, pulling the stainless-steel cock ring to show the woman who still watches her with rapt attention.
Vi swallows audibly, eyes jumping from the shiny metal ring to where Cait knows she has a dark curled grin on her face.
“Yes?” She asks, bracing a knee against the bed, poised to move.
The answering enthusiastic nod prompts her forward.
Her dick is hot to the touch when she wraps her fingers around it, the skin taut with her arousal. Vi twitches when she slides her hand up, and down again, a little noise coming from the back of her throat.
The temperature difference of the metal cock ring compared to her skin is captivating, both of their eyes watching as she slides it until it rests snugly against the base of her dick.
There’s a little bead of moisture that had collected at the head, Cait swiping her thumb over it to spread it around the head and stare at the resulting shine.
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” she states, looking up.
Vi laughs a little, the edge of it short with strain, “Okay,” she responds.
Caitlyn swings her legs over her hips, feeling how slick she is when she pulls her folds to press the dick up against her entrance. It’s all too easy to slide down, the slow sheathing pressing against her walls beautifully.
She sits, pelvis to pelvis, pressing her hands down against Vi’s shoulders as she leans forward and says, “Then, I’m gonna sit on your face. Because it’s a great face.”
The werewolf rumbles underneath her, which continues as she flexes her hips, pulling herself up to press back down in an easy slide.
She moans, watching as her indigo hair flows downward to tickle over the skin of the woman beneath her.
Cait’s toes curl in pleasure, the weight of her dick is perfect, the position allowing it to press into her G-spot with each slide. The high elf sits back a little, grinding her hips downward as she presses her fingers to Vi’s stomach. Her undershirt slides upward, bunching just over the swell of her breasts where Cait abandons it to cup her palms into the soft tissue there. The line of long-scarred claw marks are smooth under the heel of her left hand where they pull from the wolf's chest down her sternum.
“Ah!” Vi’s startled sound is cute, bringing a grin to her lips as she continues to grind downward. Her thumb and forefinger surround the peaked skin of her nipples, pressing into it a little harshly and drawing another mewl from her lips.
“This is great,” she exhales, breath coming a little shorter as she resumes her thrusts. “No one else sees you like this, huh?”
She pauses, and is glad when Vi has the presence to shake her head.
“No, of course not. Strong, stubborn, dominant Violet, letting her girlfriend tie her up and use her?” Caitlyn grins, clenching around the dick inside her when Vi moans in response. Her hips twitch upward, unable to get much leverage from her position. “No one would believe you aren’t the one in control here.”
She presses her thumbs against her nipples, feeling them shift under the pressure, caught between her index fingers. Pleasure sings through their bond, featherlight like flower petals. It’s like a feedback loop, the press of it enhancing her own sensations.
“What would they think of my little werewolf?” She muses, loving the way Vi tosses her head a little at the question. The muscles in her neck are standing out against the motion, more prominent with her arms locked behind her, forcing different muscles to accommodate the restriction. “God, you love this, don’t you?”
Cait feels her breath hitch in her chest, the clicking of a growl coming forward, palpable under where her hands rest still braced against her chest. She presses her fingers together again, pinching the hard nipples between her touch, harshly.
“Don’t you?” She demands, eyes baring down when Vi’s meet hers again. She’d look away, watching where her dick disappears inside of the elf.
“Yes,” she states, breathless, honest. Cait leans back, pleased.
She’s horribly wet from her first orgasm, the slick sound obscene and punctuated by a little hitching sound Vi makes.
“Fuck,” Cait curses, sitting up further and letting her hips fall with a little more emphasis. The curve of the dick inside of her is perfect, the angle allowing the head to press right up to where she’s most sensitive.
Vi accommodates her shift, pulling her legs so that her knees are bent. It gives the werewolf more leverage, allowing her to shift up into Caitlyn’s thrusts, meeting them with force. She lets out a string of sounds, moving one of her hands to slide her fingers against her clit.
She’s sore where the organ is engorged, blood hot and peaked under her fingers. The slickness of her cunt collects there, easing the friction as she presses tight circles into her clit. Vi bucks, a little harder, the thrust angled perfectly as to hit her G-spot.
She shakes when she comes, feeling herself clench internally, rhythmically against the hard phallus. The fingers of her other hand spasm where they’d slid further down Vi’s torso, pressing hard into the skin of her sides.
It grounds her as she vibrates around the sensation of her orgasm, it drawing out a little longer being her second of the evening. When she does eventually inhale, eyes sliding open, she’s greeted with the blown expression of the werewolf under her.
She’s staring, lips parted a little, her face a beautiful flushed pink.
When she moves her hands, she’d left little crescent moons in the skin of her abdomen where her nails had gripped down harshly. She brushes her thumb against the little marks, grinning as they ripple and disappear under the quick healing.
“I have to work so hard to leave marks on you,” she makes herself sound put-upon, her head tilting to the side when she meets Vi’s eyes again.
“Sorry?” The werewolf responds, maybe half serious.
Cait snorts, sliding up and away from the dick, still painfully hard where it’d been resting in her.
It’s shiny from her slick, flushed a deep red. She slides her fingers across it, wrapping it in her grip and pulling slowly from root to tip.
Vi makes a strangled sound, head tossing back against the stimulation. Cait watches, keen eyes fixed to the pinched expression of her face, as she continues the stimulation.
This form of torment, she finds through their bond, feels like a thread being pulled through the head of a needle. The slide of it is mesmerizing, deep in her cortices. It’s good, but it horrible, and Cait is relishing in it.
The werewolf’s breath is hitching, a little growl punctuating on her exhales, her skin shivering under the stimulation.
“Baby,” Vi gasps out when she digs her thumb under the head of her dick, feeling the frenulum there shift. It’s the most sensitive part of her, Cait has found, a brilliant detail that lets her command pleasure easily.
“Yes?” She asks, innocently.
“I. Do you-” she cuts off with a garbled combination of syllables when Cait leans forward and licks over the spongy head of her penis. A bead of precum fills her mouth with the taste of salt. “Sit on my face.” She demands, desperately.
Cait hums, leaning forward to take the head into her mouth and pressing a little further down the length. Vi’s body nearly comes entirely off the bed, the spasm so powerful it looks painful.
“Why should I? You said I could do whatever I wanted, and I want to do this.” Her tongue pulls a stripe of moisture from the base of her dick upward.
“You said you wanted to sit on my face?” The werewolf sounds agonized, her voice tight and pleading. Bargaining, almost.
“And if I changed my mind?” She tilts her head, hair waterfalling over her shoulder as she stares intently at the flushed face of her lover. Her hand slides upward again, smoothed by her saliva and leftover slick. “If I want to do this for the rest of the night, would you stop me?”
Vi is at war with herself, she can tell. She’s pressing between a desperate desire to come, and her endless propensity to provide service. Her pleasure is torture, dripping close to an orgasm but stopping just ahead of it. It burns, almost.
She shakes her head finally, panting open mouthed when Cait’s mouth engulfs her once again. She presses deeper, letting her spit ease the glide further into the tight heat of her throat.
The werewolf makes an anguished noise beneath her. She’s trembling, eyes staring where Cait takes her in, eyes a little glassy.
“Ask nicely,” the elf presses it through the bond, eyes narrowed in a cat-like expression as she watches Vi blink against the message.
“Please,” she asks instantaneously. “Please, I want you to sit on my face.”
She swallows around her dick, the spit that had gathered in her mouth nearly spilling out due to its volume. But she yields, drawing back to admire the blown expression that greets her.
“Good girl,” she praises.
A rush of satisfaction and gratitude runs through the bond, Vi exhaling slowly as the horrible edge of desperation she’d been pushed against gets a little further away.
It takes a little reworking, what with Vi’s arms restrained behind her, but eventually Cait does just that. She presses over the woman’s face, sitting low on her knees that bracket her shoulders.
The first lick against her almost feels like too much, suddenly. She wonders if she’d somehow been affected by the edging she’s been throwing her way, the feeling of too-hot pleasure burning against her from where Vi had been feeling it.
“Ah,” she moans out, settling into the licks that curl over her center, tongue pressing deeper into her cunt where she’s warm and wet.
She clenches against it, the sensitive rim of skin right at her opening tightening over the appendage. The wet stimulation is completely different than being fucked, making her shiver and shake where she braces herself above her girlfriend.
Typically, there are hands pressed into the plush skin of her ass when they do this, short nails digging into her skin and providing another kind of stimulation as she rocks against her mouth. For a moment she wishes Vi was free to do just that.
It fleets away after a moment when the woman presses a little upward, tongue lapping against her clit where she’s a little sore from coming.
“Oh fuck,” she mutters, twitching as the pleasure burns lower in her belly.
A feeling of surprise touches her through their bond space, Cait realizing that her mate is shocked that she’s about to come again so quickly.
“I wish you had come in me, before,” her voice is a little breathless. “So you could’ve eaten it out of me. I always want you to do that,” she mumbles. “It’s so hot.”
Vi hums a little, pleased, the vibrations singing against her clit when it’s taken into Vi’s mouth. The pressure from it makes Cait clench, her hands twitching where they’d come to rest on the headboard for support.
Her palms are sweaty and slick, sliding over the wood and making it hard to keep purchase.
“Fuck,” she hisses, grinding down on the tongue that slides against her. The design, whatever it is, that Vi draws into her clit makes her spasm, shake, and then topple into another orgasm.
It’s bright-hot in her system, too many back-to-back, the sensations compounding to press like a tidal wave over her nervous system.
“Okay,” she exhales, twisting to sit on the bed next to the reclined form of her mate. She’s shaking, her legs feeling a little weak where she has them bent.
Vi seems satisfied, floating in some amorphous state of turned on but content. She seems uninclined to move, only tilting her head to the side so she can peer up at Cait where she tries to gain her bearings again.
When her breath is back to normal, heart beating not quite so high her throat, she meets her gaze with a pondering look. Three times is more than enough to feel the threads of satisfied exhaustion pulling at her, but there’s a thrum of something she still wants. Like a hunger for a specific food, but the name of it is illusive.
The werewolf’s dick is still hard where it’s flush against her stomach, the cock ring shiny against the base of it where it still sits snugly. She looks debauched, the way her shirts are pushed up somehow more salacious than if she was just nude.
“Roll over,” Cait commands, before she really thinks about it. Vi’s brow furrows for a second but she does so, shuffling a little awkwardly until she can get the leverage to turn. “On your knees,” She specifies.
Vi hesitantly obeys, sliding into a low crouch with her face pressed to the mattress, hips up. Cait stares at her, eyes trailing over form, moving her hand to press the over shirt further away so it doesn’t obscure the beautiful plane of her back.
“I’m gonna finger you,” she says, petting over her skin. She feels a shiver go through the werewolf, a little burn of trepidation in their bond.
She nods, nonetheless, hair shifting over the mattress where she has her face pressed. The elf purrs in delight, shuffling to the side of the mattress to disappear into their ensuite. A moment later she pads back into the room with a towel in her hand, pausing at Violet’s side of the bed and grabbing lube from the bedside table. Vi shifts, widening her knees to press lower in an arch that makes her salivate a little, pausing in her approach to take in her submissive posture.
When Vi wiggles again, uncomfortable by the stretch of inaction, she moves forward once more. The towel is placed beneath them, Cait taking up a spot behind her and drawing her fingers down one of Vi’s trapped arms.
The position gives her an excellent view, able to visualize both the restraints they’d used. The way the metal looks around her wrists and her dick is pornographic, shiny and clean against the freckled skin, heavily flushed with arousal.
“You should let me tie you up more often,” She muses, popping the cap to the lube with a loud ‘click’. Vi shifts a little, restless, but stills when her slick fingers pet over the warm muscle of her opening.
She lets out a low exhale when Cait just presses, letting her fingers draw circles into the skin there, letting her adjust under the sudden stimulation.
Vi lets her do this whenever she wants, which is at least weekly at this point now that she knows how much it affects her mate. Secretly, she can’t wait until the werewolf has another rut, just to see if she’d let her do this to her during it.
A low noise greets her when Caitlyn dips a single finger forward, pressing evenly into the heat within her.
It’s easy to fall into a rhythm, pulling the digit out and back in, letting her get used to the feeling of penetration.
When one finger becomes two, Vi shudders, clenching against the intrusion. She isn’t sore, Cait can tell, but it’s overwhelming. This kind of pleasure sits differently in her system in general.
Combined with the now hours of edging, it’s razor-sharp.
Caitlyn presses her free hand to her flank, thumb swiping gently over the swell of her ass as she watches her fingers disappear within her. She’s burning hot on the inside, the wolf gasping a little when she pushes her fingers as deep as they can go.
It’s not hard to stroke lower, curl her fingers down to where she knows Vi is most sensitive. The motion is met with a cry, Vi’s shoulders shifting as she nearly pulls away from the stimulation. Caitlyn does it again, and again, feeling how the muscles under her free hand jump in response.
The feeling of desperation in their bond goes taut, suddenly, feeling like a fish caught on a line rather than a sliding sensation.
Vi spasms, almost violently, the cords of her muscles bunching as she twists. She’s clenching down on Cait’s fingers causing her to lose rhythm momentarily. The elf watched with rapt attention as her hands, which up until this point had been balled into fists, pry open. They reveal the dark curve of her claws that had slipped out.
The sight of them pulls a thrill of delight through Cait. She leans forward, staring down at the sharp appendages she hardly ever catches a glimpse of, pressing her fingers in a little harder.
“Baby, you gotta stop.” The werewolf gasps around the plea, her voice hoarse.
She does slow, readjusting her posture a little to sit a little easier on her knees. Her free hand pets gently along her girlfriend’s hip, the skin slick with sweat.
Her fingers twist, allowing her to curl them downward and press deep where she knows Vi is most sensitive. Her whole body shudders, a hiccup moan leaving her throat as she strains against the handcuffs, sharp claws glinting in the lowlight of their bedroom.
“Please,” she begs, “Please, baby, you gotta. I can’t.”
“I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted?” Her accent tilts on the inquiry, punctuated by another curl of her fingers.
“You can, you can. But-”
“And that if that meant you didn’t get off, that was fine.”
Vi is twisting their head back and forth where she’s pressed her forehead to the mattress.
“Can’t say I’m not disappointed,” the statement is meet with a whine. A smile curls over the elf’s lips, “I thought you’d let me continue for a while longer before you begged to come.”
“No, no, that isn’t. I- Baby I wanna be good,” her words are thick, it occurring to the elf that she might be crying. “Please, please, I wanna be good, please.”
Caitlyn actually pauses now, captivated by the relieved sob that leaves the woman beneath her. She strokes her thumb across the swell of her ass where her free hand sits, fingers of her opposite hand heavy and still where they still penetrate her.
After a few beats, a little bit of the tension that had been pulled into the thread of desperation slackens. Violet’s breaths come a little less ragged, so she asks, “You okay?”
The wolf nods, face still mostly obscured from view.
“Yeah, yes. You can keep going in a second I just, I think I was gonna come somehow.”
Understanding falls over her like a shroud, her posture shifting to look down at where the cock ring is still adorning the base of her dick.
She’d been leaking a steady stream of precum against the towel Cait had placed below them, the damp patch growing in size. The skin of her cock is a brilliant red, flesh hot with arousal.
“You don’t wanna come?”
Vi’s shoulders roll a little as she shrugs awkwardly, wiggling a little to reposition. Her entrance clenches against the elf’s long digits as the shift pulls her fingers from inside her just a centimeter or two.
“That’s up to you?” She seems a little unsure. “You didn’t say I could so. I was gonna. Not.”
“Oh my god,” she exclaims. “How are you so perfect?” Her fingers pull back and press forward again in a slow curl. The answering moan is heavenly. “You’re so good for me.”
“Baby,” Vi twists underneath her, pushing back into the stimulation, but pulling away at the same time.
“I want you to come. Just do one thing for me?”
Vi mutters out a string of affirmations.
“Say please.”
It’s immediate, the full body shudder in response to her command. The werewolf obeys after a desperate gasp, “Please, please, please,” tumbling from her lips.
Cait’s free hand pulls toward her midline, grasping the steel ring and breaking the tension so she can slide it down and off of her mate.
“Good girl,” she purrs, pressing a bite to her left ass cheek, fingers curling around her dick and stroking root to tip, once.
Vi is powerless against the crest of her orgasm, topping over the edge she’d been teetering on for some time now. Her inner walls contract around Cait’s fingers as she comes and comes.
The stretch is lengthy, Cait knowing intrinsically that Vi is floating in some far-off place as her synapses reconnect. Her dick is drooling, the amount of come a little shocking, the volume maybe exceeding her rut orgasms. She lets her finger slide free, moving up to press over her wrists where the handcuffs had grown warm from her body heat.
Her magic thrums in her chest, the subtle feeling now a little more recognizable now that she’d been working with her father to understand it. She pushes her thoughts away, leaving nothing but the clear pressing desire to have her mate free from the restraints to the forefront of her mind.
The metal clicks twice before falling open, teeth pulling from the internal contraption in a zipper-like sound until she can pull them away. Vi’s arms fall to her side, the tension cut, appendages probably numb from disuse. She lets out a little noise of discomfort, muffled by the way her face is still pressed mostly against the mattress.
The towel is discarded, fluttering noisily where it falls off to the side of their bed.
“C’mon, take these off,” she ushers the werewolf to slide her shirts from her torso where they’d bunched, taking some creative reworking since it seems her arms aren’t particularly cooperative to the motion.
Eventually though, the woman settles, nude and slack against the bed, allowing the high elf to settle overtop of her.
Her skin is still warm and slick when Cait’s long-fingered hands run up the plane of her back. The elf likes the way the muscles bunch under the pressure, shifting easily under her command. There’s tension in the lines of Vi’s shoulders, not conscious, but likely from the multiple hours of being bound behind her.
Vi’s purring when she works her way over the corded muscles, pressing the tight lines out of them with little swipes of her thumbs. She hums, content, shifting where she’d come to straddle her lower back.
After a few minutes, she leans down to press her lips to the shiny scarred mark on the high edge of one of her shoulders, feeling the little answering ‘zing’ through their bond and Vi’s full-body satisfaction.
Cait curls over her, leaning her head against the skin at the nape of her neck, sliding her hands underneath her shoulders to press between the defined deltopectoral line and the mattress.
“Are you gonna sleep on top of me?” Vi’s voice is muffled, an amused tilt to the words.
“You said I could do whatever I wanted.” She snarks, pressing another kiss to the back of her neck before slipping off to the slide and curling next to her.
She’s laughing quietly when she rolls to face her, back popping as they curl to face each other.
“You okay?”
“I’m great,” She mumbles, eyes slipping closed as she curls into Cait’s waiting arms. She shuffles, pulling them flush together and rumbling contentedly.
______________
Their schedules had adjusted pretty significantly in the 7 months since their daughter’s birth. Caitlyn had only just begun to return to work for half days in the office a few weeks prior, opting to do most of her work from home. Violet, after her parental leave finished, was spending more time out of the field and instead on desk duty.
Typically, she’d make her way home by the early evening. Sometimes, if there was a particularly large case load, it’d be later. And a few times a week, she’d work out with Jayce, which would put her an hour or so behind as well.
So, when 7 in the evening comes and goes, it doesn’t concern her.
When the clock bleeds past 8, and then even further, it gives her pause.
“It’s only an hour,” she reasons to Juniper. Her lilac-haired infant stares back at her, unblinking, her little hands curling into the fabric of Cait’s shirt. She lets out a little series of noises, disjointed sounds that equate to babbling at this early stage. Despite the late hour, the little werewolf refused to be put down, demanding attention from her mother.
By the time an hour becomes two hours, the elf has bristled with anxiety. A newer, more pressing concern shadows her thoughts.
The connection she has with Vi, the mating bond she magicked into existence more than a year previous, is distant.
Typically, the mating bond exists almost like a room in her mind. Some space that had carved out in her cerebrum, with a door on each side. One from her, the other from her mate. Information filters through the space easily, subconsciously, and is perceived by the other just as readily.
It’s easy to tune out, to some degree, almost like leaving a door open a crack rather than fully agape. She would still feel the warmth of the connection, passing like a stream of light into her mind, but not overwhelming or demanding.
But right now, the room feels dull and empty. Like an abandoned home, the ghost of some sensations there but nothing present to disrupt the stillness.
She prods at their connection worryingly, flinging the doorway on her end of the bond space wide open as if that would change the hush inside.
Violet, being a werewolf, was a natural at balancing what she threw into that shared space. The impeccable control she exhibits over her instincts translates easily in this too, which was lucky for Cait that it does. It would be a challenge to have unimpeded exposure of her mate’s heightened senses filtering through their connection at all times.
She’d spent many nights since their bond with a headache throbbing through her mind in time with the tempo of miscellaneous heartbeats and conversations, the distant sounds of the city pressing up against her mind incessantly until she’s able to push them away. They’d been working on it, getting Cait more used to the heightened perception in measured practice, but primarily it’s the werewolf’s control over how much of this information she allows through their bond that keeps the level manageable.
Now, it’s as if the doorway from Violet’s connection is shut. Locked, even. There’s a low thrum of her presence still, but it’s far away, as if trying to speak to someone down a hallway and behind a wall.
Junie makes a distressed whine, the little werewolf picking up on her anxiety as it spikes with this new information.
She hadn’t even noticed until she’d tried, still somewhat convinced her partner’s tardiness wasn’t anything out of the normal, just a late night at the office. Or the gym. Or traffic.
Her hand tremors when her phone goes straight to voicemail for the third time, the automatic message playing distantly as she fumbled to end the unsuccessful call.
Her daughter makes a snuffling noise when she rocks her, shushing her gently.
Cait’s throat seizes when her phone buzzes to life a moment later. The caller ID, however, gives her pause.
“Hello?”
“Captain Kiramman?”
The voice is cool and accented, but familiar.
“Captain Grayson.” She responds questioningly.
The harpy wasn’t just her partner’s superior, but also a mentor of Cait’s from her early career. The women, despite going far back, didn’t have much of a relationship out of a professional one at this point, but Cait still viewed the elder woman with a high degree of respect.
“I may have some upsetting news. Could you come down to the station?”
“Does this have something to do with Violet?” She demands, fingers tightening their hold on the phone. Her daughter rubs her face into the fabric of her sweatshirt, borrowed from her mate with a large The Last Drop logo across the front of it.
Grayson pauses, obviously mulling over where it was appropriate to discuss this over the phone. Eventually, after a beat, she exhales.
“We believe that both Vi and Jayce have been abducted.” Caitlyn swallows, rocking her daughter on her hip, who makes another series of upset-sounding whimpers. “Their phones, as well as their personal possessions, were discovered in our parking deck as of an hour ago.”
“Why was I not informed immediately?” Her voice is tight, accent punctuating harshly on the words.
“We weren’t sure what happened. Surveillance cameras in the parking area were disabled. We were able to undo the distortion spell just a few minutes ago and review the footage.”
She lets out a long breath.
“Do we know who took them?”
“Viktor has a theory. He’s in my office if you come down to the station. We could use your help.”
Caitlyn presses an affirmative into the phone, ending the call and immediately making another to her parents.
By the time she reaches the station, an hour had passed, and her stomach had worked itself into horrible knots. She keeps prodding at their bond space during her journey into the city after her parents arrive to watch Junie, but to no avail. She can tell Vi is there but she’s so far from reach, absolutely nothing coming into the shared space despite the passage of time.
Viktor looks exhausted when she enters her mentor’s office, sitting hunched in a chair with his elbows propped on his knees. He looks up at her, a grave expression on his face. She stares at the other elf for a moment before turning her attention to the woman standing behind her desk.
“Thank you for coming,” Caitlyn nods, shutting the door behind her. “Viktor told me you may be able to help us figure out whether Vi is…”
“Alive?” She prompts, sitting heavily in the chair that sits adjacent to the sullen-looking man. “She is, but she’s… I think unconscious, I can’t tell.”
Grayson nods.
“They were tranquilized,” Viktor’s accent is gruff as it ribbons over his statement. “The footage is… hard to watch, I implore you not to. But they three men were able to subdue them both in a matter of minutes. They were injected with something, some kind of sedative.”
Caitlyn swallows, hands clasping under the information.
“I’m not convinced things went as intended by the abductors.” Grayson interjects. “When the men ambushed them, their focus was on Jayce. I don’t think they were expecting a werewolf, and she managed to take one of them down before being subdued.”
“What do they want with Jayce?” She demands, brow scrunching.
Viktor rubs a hand over his face before answering.
“You read the report from the Shimmer operation last week, correct?” She nods. “There was a single casualty from the arrests. A young man who fell from the third floor window of the warehouse were in. He succumbed to his injuries a handful of hours following the arrests.”
She stares at the common elf, unblinking as she processes the words.
“I believe he may have been close to one of the higher up orchestrators of this operation. A brother, or son, perhaps.”
He looks at Cait head on, his tone stark.
“I believe they want revenge. An eye for an eye.”
Anger flares in her briefly before she’s able to pull it aside. Her magic stirs deep in her chest in response, tingle along her nervous system for a moment before dissipating.
“So what, they plan to kill him? Both of them?”
“I believe Captain Grayson is correct, they weren’t accounting for Vi when they planned the abduction. I think that now that they have, it will be more difficult for them seeing that…”
“She’s a werewolf.” Cait finishes, taking a moment to breathe in heavily. Shifters in general were hard to kill, a sturdy and resilient species, with wolves being particularly known for their tenacity. It wasn’t impossible, but to kill Violet would mean a great deal more trouble than the gang had likely planned for.
Minotaurs weren’t anything to discount either, being one of the most physically strong species in their city. Containing him alone would be difficult, so if the gang was aware of who he was, there would have been significant preparation to allow them to hold Jayce captive. If they were willing to do that, she considers, it’s likely they were fully prepared to kill him, however challenging it may be.
“I believe whatever tranquilizer they used are not equipped for a werewolf metabolism. Potentially, your connection could lend information to help find out where they are.” Grayson states, her arms crossed over her chest. The feathers that curl around her face are a little flared, a subconscious tell of her agitation.
Caitlyn nods, tucking the few hairs that had escaped from her hair tie behind her long ears. Her hands have a little tremor to them, which she hides a moment later in the pocket of her borrowed sweatshirt.
“Her metabolism should take care of most sedative drugs relatively quickly. But… I. If they want to kill Jayce, they probably already have.” She swallows. “Right?”
Viktor looks far away, his eyes staring right through her.
“That is a possibility, however we believe they may also be attempting to extract information from him before they kill him. About how the arrests occurred.”
About how Viktor was an undercover agent. She stares back on him, sympathy sitting heavy on her shoulders for a moment.
“Do you think they know Violet was a part of the operation?”
Viktor sighs, shaking his head.
“There’s a possibility they assume she’s involved see that she was with him during his capture, but we can’t know for sure. I don’t know much other than a couple of the drop off locations within the city. I think they may be keeping them there, rather than going back to Zaun.”
Grayson leans forward, bracing her hands on her desk as she levels Cait with a serious look. It draws her eye from where she’d been boring them into Viktor’s, the other elf casting his gaze away.
“As a fellow captain, I know you are aware of our protocols. I should not be involving you in this, but you’re our best bet for finding them. Viktor told me your mating connection is very strong, but I need to know – are you able to do this? Knowing that your mate may be tortured, potentially killed.”
Caitlyn swallows, a shiver of determination going through her as she nods.
“If they keep her sedated, I won’t get anything from the bond connection. I think that’s what is happening now.”
Grayson nods, taking a look at her computer when a ‘ding’ rings out through the speaker.
“They’re still trying to trace the direction where the van went so we can get a better idea of their general location.”
“The connection is better the closer we are.”
The other captain turns away when a knock draws her attention. She excuses herself, following someone out and into the bullpen, the door clicking shut behind her with the two elves left facing each other.
“Vi told you about our bond?”
“Not entirely, she told Jayce some information which he is fully incapable to keeping to himself. My apologies for revealing anything I shouldn’t have, but it felt pertinent given the circumstances.”
“Do you know any specifics?”
He peers at her for a moment. His face is drawn, a heavy look to his eyes as if he hadn’t sleep in several days.
“She mentioned once, while I was actually present as well, that you could use her advanced senses. Hearing, smell. That you had been struggling with this since your mating.” Viktor pauses, seemingly mulling over something. “I am no expert on the inter-workings of shifter relationships. But as far as I know, that isn’t… typical of a connection with a non-shifter.”
His brown eyes are locked on hers, alert and unwavering.
“It isn’t.” She confirms, offering nothing else.
The common elf draws an eyebrow up, quirking it in question. He may have even asked her something, but Caitlyn suddenly cannot hear him over the overwhelming pressure of their bond swelling in her mind. It’s like a flood of information that waterfalls directly into her cortices, drowning out everything around her.
Cait makes a strangled sound, pressing the heels of her hands into her closed eyes, feeling her head throb from the communication.
Distantly, there’s the sound of the other elf calling her name, but it had might as well be worlds away compared the unyielding press of sensory information occupying her mind. Her skull feels like it may explode under it all, a stabbing ache forming inside her cranial vault.
Caitlyn shakes her head, moaning a string of disconnected syllables before the connection slowly dulls, falling into a lower thrum that aches rather than burns in her mind.
“She’s… She’s awake.” She mumbles. “But she’s in pain.” It’s bright against the back of her eyelids, a thread of nausea pulsing through her abdomen.
She feels a hand on her shoulder, a cool point of contact that helps to draw her out of the whirlpool of sounds, smells, and horrific pain.
“Is she okay?” She hears.
“I don’t know.” Cait nearly sobs, frustrated. “I can’t… It’s never like this. I don’t know what this is.”
Vi is there, she can feel the shape of her somewhere out there in the world. She can tell that she’s disoriented, and in pain. Pain that ebbs, pulsing along her in a constant burst that burns against her cortices.
“Oh my god.” She gasps, blinking against the lights of the precinct office. Little sparkles dance in her vision from where she’d been putting pressure against her closed eyes. “I think… I think this is what could be coming through the bond all of the time. I think she can’t control it right now. Because she’s hurt. Because they’re hurting her.”
The pain is lessening the longer it occurs, something in Cait getting more used to it as the minutes pass. Likely helped along due to it not being her own pain receptors flaring up, only her mind translating her mate’s pain as their connection bleeds into her nervous system.
“Can you tell anything about where they are?”
“Yes, yeah…” She mutters, rubbing her temples. She can, slowly past the shape of pain that overwhelms the connection. There are little details that spill out around it, as if seeing rays of light pass under the skirt of a curtain. “It’s… it smells like mildew. Like dampness and rot, and kind of like… cleaning supplies?” She guesses, brows scrunching as she goes through the details. A harsh chemical smell cuts through the earthy rot, so strong she can almost taste it.
Viktor turns to snag a legal pad off of the desk behind him, scrawling the words down and looking to her with a pointed expression.
“It’s cold too, she’s cold. She’s never cold?” It’s true, she isn’t. Werewolves run naturally hot due to their metabolism, rarely succumbing to the elements from their rapid healing abilities. “But she’s shivering. I think. Ow, god.” The stabbing pain behind her eyes makes her vision sparkle for a moment.
“Cait, what else?” the common elf demands.
“Jayce is there.” She knows, suddenly, like the information was always present in her own mind. “He’s there, not next to her, maybe like across a room. He’s there and he…” Metal and salt comes through suddenly, the smell of it spilling around the antiseptic smell to drip into her mind. “He’s bleeding, I think.”
She can hear, distantly, the sound of Viktor’s scrawl stutter for a moment before continuing.
“Can you… You can smell things, okay, can you hear anything?” He asks.
She prods at the connection, feeling it shiver under the press of her consciousness. Their bond space is overflowing with information, like wading through a waist-deep swamp, more vegetation than water. It’s sluggish work, trying to make sense of the information that filters through the bond.
She feels something like a whine come from Vi, her heart aching at the confusion and distress that sings through. She’s disoriented, hurting, and unable to right herself. A beat passes, Cait about to relay that she isn’t getting any sounds to pin point through the mess, when the shape of something familiar presses right up against her cortices.
It’s Violet’s heartbeat, loud and strong. A little further away, Jayce’s own cardiovascular system thrums steadily. His is slow, as is his breathing.
She lets out a long breath.
“I can hear their heartbeats. I think Jayce is still unconscious, his blood pressure sounds really low.” Caitlyn relays, squinting her closed eyes. “I can hear voices, I think. But they’re very far away. Like through a wall. Men, though. More than one. And… buzzing.”
“Buzzing?”
“Electricity,” she mumbles. “It’s like… two different frequencies, but it’s the only thing that isn’t ebbing so I think it’s. I think it’s electricity.”
Grayson is back in the office when she opens her eyes again. She’s watching Cait curiously from the doorway of her office, her hand still on the doorknob as she looks between the two elves.
“We have a lead,” she states. Caitlyn feels nauseous against trying to process the outward information compared to what’s going on in her mind. “We think they’re still within city limits, we had an informant call in about a vehicle matching the description of the one we have on video in the parking deck.”
“Vi is awake,” Viktor states, gesturing to where Cait is rubbing her temples with the thumb and forefinger of one hand.
“You can fill me in on the way, you’re both with me. A tactical team is being put together as we speak.” The captain swirls her coat on from where it had hung from the rack by her doorway.
The surveillance van they sit in is disguised on the outside as a package delivery vehicle. Inside, Cait sits heavily on one of the few seats, it swiveling with the motions of the vehicle as they barrel through the city.
The night was beginning to draw lighter as the hour passes more. The cloudy spring morning becoming pink, Cait realizing for the first time how long she’d been in that office.
Viktor sits beside her, dutifully jotting down information she shares as the minutes pass.
“We’re very close,” she says against a scrunched brow, “It’s all getting more- worse. It’s worse,” She nearly laughs at how overwhelming it is. The sensations feel foreign, being that they’re not her own, but that line blurs as they continue their drive. Grayson speaks through a 2-way radio, some vehicles housing the tactical team moving in line with them through the streets.
This is a much less populated part of Piltover, toeing the line into the Undercity. The buildings are desolate, many of the businesses having gone under during the last economic collapse some years previous. Only the very edges of the neighborhood have any signs of life, which quickly drop away as they drive further into the streets.
Viktor, speaking low as if to not disturb her on her continued mission to parse through the overwhelming bond communication, asks Grayson about their intel.
“There’s a hospital that changed locations years ago. The old campus has been abandoned since, but last night there was a call into the local precinct her claiming that there were voices and lights from within.”
Cait hears this distantly, swallowing thickly against a fresh wave of sensation. Vi is burning with pain, her whole body lit up with a thrumming energy that sings through her nervous system. She’s aching, her shoulders hurting terribly, likely due to being restrained.
“The local precinct assumed it had been vandals, but a vehicle matching the description of the one that took the two enforcers was spotted less than half a mile from the hospital campus.”
Jayce might be awake, she can’t tell. His heartbeat had picked up but it was jumping between being elevated and dipping low, as if skipping a beat. It’s unnerving, the disjointed sounds leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She wonders distantly what kind of tranquilizer they had used, something strong enough to put down a minotaur for hours.
“People are talking,” She says suddenly.
Viktor turns more towards her, his knees knocking into hers when the chair swivels around. She concentrates on the touch, a grounding point of contact.
“Arguing,” Caitlyn corrects. “I can’t tell if they’re in the same room but I can make out some of it.” Something like burning stings at her nostrils, making her sniffle against the smell.
Vi’s hearing is quite good, but whatever they’re doing to keep her subdued is interfering with the specifics. The sound keeps going in and out, almost like someone is pressing mute on a controller. Not to mention the pain that overwhelms her mind. It’s almost like it swells there, pressing everything else to the corners of her consciousness, demanding the most attention.
She can tell though, with a sinking feeling, that these individuals are doing something to Jayce. Something that makes him hurt.
“I can smell blood.” She mumbles. “I think it’s Jayce’s, Vi isn’t… nothing happened in the last few minutes to change her pain, but I think they’re hurting him.”
Viktor is pale, mouth drawn into a severe line as he continues to jot this information down.
“More people are talking further away. It’s. It’s very faint. I think they’re asking about directions though, or instructions? Someone is yelling. About werewolves.”
She swallows, the bitter taste of fear unpalatable in her mouth.
The vehicle they’re in isn’t moving anymore, she realizes suddenly.
“Where are we?”
“Just on the line between Piltover and the Undercity. Two enforcers from the tactical team are doing a preliminary search. We need a better idea of what we’re up against.”
“I think they’re underground.” Caitlyn states. “It’s damp wherever Vi is, and really dark. So somewhere without windows.”
“The hospital does have a basement that was used primarily for storage.” Grayson has a tablet open, clicking through a file.
Caitlyn flinches when she hears a dull sound ring out, unmistakably the sound of blunt force trauma. Concern rings through her bond, Vi’s consciousness flaring with it, compounding by Cait’s own worry that bleeds forward.
The werewolf is still disoriented, bleary from pain and unable to feed much consciously through the bond. Fear, sharp like needles, feels foreign on her consciousness, an emotion she’d never gotten from the other woman before. It thrums low in her body, underneath all the pain, but it’s there. Cait swallows past a lump in her throat, blinking and relaying the new information to Viktor. His eyes pinch in concern.
“They were definitely not planning on Violet, they’re arguing about werewolf weaknesses.” She mutters, rubbing her face tiredly. Adrenaline burns in her system, but her mind is exhausted from the processing and lack of sleep. “I think there are around ten men, maybe less. Two at least with Jayce, and more somewhere further, probably in a different room.”
“Can you tell what they’re asking Jayce?” Grayson requests, keen eyes watching Caitlyn’s eyebrows knit.
Eventually, she shakes her head. A wave of nausea sits heavy in her abdomen, her hands tightening their hold on the seat of the chair as she braces against it.
“No, not really. They’re… They might have already asked him. All that they wanted to.” She swallows against the information.
Time moves. The tactical team relays back no sign of life from outside, but they can detect some use of magic within the square footage of the abandoned hospital.
Sunlight stings at her eyes when she opens them next, letting out a little noise of complaint and shutting them again. Her headache has spread from her temples all the way back to her occipital bone, and through her neck.
Her shoulders feel bunched, maybe subconsciously adjusting her posture because of Vi’s own body aching from her unchanged, restrained position. The low, steady thrum of pain is exhausting.
Then, nearly an hour later, the elf can tell something is happening by the panic going through Vi’s system. Viktor presses a hand to her shoulder when she hunches over against the brightness of it flaring through her.
“What is happening?” He asks, tilting close to the woman curled in on herself. Caitlyn’s tries to sort through the somehow less organized information that pass through her mating bond, alarm frazzling the information to her dismay.
It’s a mad jumble of acrid fear and new smells, and the strain of trying to make out a conversation through a doorway. Voices that move closer, their words gaining volume.
She can tell her brow is furrowed in concentration, a dull thrum behind her eyes that stabs in time with the elevated heart rate that beats in her throat.
All of it together feels like overpowering white noise, like one hit after the next of some undecipherable tempo. She curls up further, trying to lean into the information as if that would assist in parsing through it all. She’s exhausted, jittery from the strain as she covers her head with her hands and fights through the overwhelming fear.
The space of their bond connection spills over, like a dam opening, leaving only her consciousness standing in this strange, meditative space. Dully, she can still feel the press of all the overwhelming sensations, but it’s like they’ve been allowed some distance now.
Her consciousness reaches out, brushing further into the space now that it’s not so full, trying to get her mate to answer. Instead, she feels something that gives her great pause.
The shape of a wolf peers back at her, offering quiet in comparison to all the massively overwhelming information she’d been struggling with for the last few hours. It’s the essence of Vi’s species, separate from the woman but still her, in some way.
Cait scrunches her brow against this.
Viktor’s soft voice filters through, “Caitlyn? What’s going on?”
“I can see her wolf.” She mumbles, eyes still closed, face pressed into her hands. A dull throb still pulses through her temples.
“Her what?”
“It’s her… it’s like her internal self, I don’t know how to describe it. I usually… this is a first. I’ve never seen it before, not like this. I- I don’t know what to do with this information.”
She feels a little desperate with it, feeling like she’s locked in a staring contest with the narrow, intelligent eyes of the gigantic wolf, standing across her in the bond space.
“Violet?” She presses forward in her thoughts. Maybe she’s regained some control, pulling back on all the sensations again like she usually does as to not overstimulate her elven mate.
Caitlyn finds that that’s not the reason at all.
She can tell immediately that wherever Vi is, there are people entering the room she’s be held in. The panic that was thrumming high in her throat is still there, and it’s because of these people.
One smells of magic, the other something else, maybe also a shifter. She can’t get past a sudden horrible scent. It burns at Vi’s nostrils, the stinging sensation passing to Cait who unconsciously sniffles in response to the harsh chemical odor.
The panic goes high and thready in response to the smell. Caitlyn’s eyes fly open, her mouth dropping in a gasp before she finishes the string of consciousness.
“They have methylmercury,” she says, detached in her horror.
Grayson’s eyes are wide, pupils nearly pin-points where they meet Cait’s. Viktor’s hand on her shoulder tightens, his slim fingers digging into her collarbone.
“Grayson, they’re going to kill her,” Cait can’t tell what her voice sounds like under the rushing in her ears. She feels, very suddenly, completely incapable of dealing with this in a way she never had when it came to her job duties.
“Grayson,” Viktor demands, “We cannot afford to wait any longer.” The harpy lets out a curse in her Slavic tongue, something harsh and biting against this new development.
This particular chemical was nearly impossible to obtain by the general public, being kept under lock and key in specialized research facilities and little where else. Manufacturing it was dangerous for non-shifters even, but deadly for them specifically. Even a small volume would be enough to kill a dominant werewolf like Vi, and by the panic thrumming like a burn through their bond, they have more than enough to manage just that.
“We need to mobilize, now.” Grayson speaks into the receiver with a clear commanding tone. “We have a new development, we believe they will be disposing of the agents here and now.” She moves as she speak, the group around them flying into motion.
Cait is shaking as she steps down from the surveillance van, feet feeling lead-like as they fall onto the pavement below. She meets Viktor’s eyes as she stands outside the opened doors, his face looking drawn, but his jaw set with determination. The other elf nods to her as she turns, joining the tactical team that pours from another enforcer vehicle a few yards away.
“We know they’re underground, and we know this building has basement access through the first floor. But we can’t tell how heavily enforced the door will be, the sound of a battering ram might spook them.” Grayson speaks to the group donned in magic and weapon resistant armor.
“We have detonators we can wire.” A first commander offers.
Grayson shakes her head, the feathers shifting under the movement. “No time, this is happening now,” she looks over to Cait for confirmation. Her solemn face alone must speak volumes because the team moves on without her even answering.
She feels a million miles away, concentrating on the thrum of heartbeats that play in her consciousness. Her and Jayce are alive, they’re alive, they’re mere feet away now that they’ve surrounded the building.
“Captain Kiramman,” Grayson look grave, “You should-”
“If you tell me to sit this out, I’m going in there on my own.” Cait bites out. “I think I know a way we can quickly get through-”
Her heart seizes in her chest suddenly, a huge wave of fear rolling through her stomach. She can hear, quite clearly, the sound of a man’s voice approaching Vi where she is still restrained, body thrumming with electricity that keeps her strength subdued. He sounds dangerous, voice curling in disgust as he gets right up near her mate. The overwhelming smell of mercury is pungent in her nose, burning at the werewolf’s sensitive nostrils.
“Grayson, now.” She hisses, pushing past the group and pulling away before she can be caught by the tactical team. The other captain curses behind her but she hears the footfalls as she forces her way into the dilapidated doorway.
The entryway lobby is filled with the skeletons of what once was. Rows of empty chairs, most turned over and out of sorts, are covered in a thick sheet of dust. The space had been vandalized, graffiti adorning most of the walls, the evidence of previous illegal activities lingering in the space where they’d been left carelessly to rot with the skeleton of a hospital. The only light is the red glow of an EXIT sign that still burns like embers at the end of the hall that she turns down.
She feels pulled through the building as if caught on a lead, illuminating the dank hallway with a flashlight and watching as several more cast her shadow forward, the tactical team falling in line behind her quick pace.
Their bootsteps are quiet and measured on the mildewed carpet, subtle as highly-trained officers encroach into the space and point their weapons into empty rooms. They call out little ‘clears’ to each other as more and more of them pour through the hallways, following the commanding steps of the high elf captain.
Cait walks forward, not bothering to check behind her. She can feel, somewhere even deeper than where their bond space is in her mind, the pull of her mate, louder than it had ever been in her mind before.
Vi is breathing harsh, heaving in the horrible smell of a deadly chemical, her heart racing.
The elf breaks into a sprint when she reaches the end turn of the hallway, her feet falling confidently beneath her, hair whipping behind her as she arcs into the next hallway. There’s a set of wide doors, closed with several chain locks over the handles. A sign demarks ‘Basement’ in dusty letters to the side of it.
She slides to a halt, hearing the team behind her approach when her throat closes on panic. She can feel hands on her arm as if she was the one restrained to a chair just below, the shape of a needle closing in to the curve of her elbow playing through her mind.
Her magic is driven by her emotions, swelling with the pinnacle of her passion to make happen what her deepest desires wish to see, illogical as they may be. Calling to a specific action, however, required the elf to exhibit extreme control over these impulses.
With all the panic going through her system, her thoughts are a frazzled, sporadic mess. She shakes, drawing in an inhale and trying to press away the crushing feeling of fear to reach down to where her magic is in her chest.
Their bond space was loud with how much she’d been accessing it, refusing to fall away from her mind when she presses. She lets out a frustrated sound before, nearly all at once, it dulls.
The keen eyes of Violet’s inner wolf peers at her from across the space, a quiet urge passing from it to her.
Save her, save her, save her.
Her magic flares and the doors opposing her creak dangerously. She feels a thread of trepidation, wondering if she hadn’t been right about relying upon her emotion-driven magic to gain access to where her mate and friend are being held.
There’s a stinging sensation at her elbow, the pain of it shooting through her nervous system. Her heart rate spikes, a massive flare of fear burning through her stomach.
The doors groan, shifting against the chains binding the handles. They seem to strain there, then a teeth-rattling crash rings out as they bend inward, as if under a great pressure.
The chains break, metal flying in every direction, little metallic ‘ting’s ringing out in the silence of the abandoned space. Magic swirls from the doorway, bright curls of color indicating broken runes from somewhere within. The smell of damp, still earth meets her nose as the basement stairs are revealed, a light visible where the stairs empty into a hallway below.
The sting at her arm is gone, she can hear some distant shouting from below – both through the bond and, further away, in person. The tactical team blows past her, their weapons drawn as they descend the stairs and call out a string of commands in aggressive direction.
There’s a hand at the elf’s arm, ushering her to the side as the team continues downward to secure the space. The team is large, some 30-odd enforcers who descend down the stairs and out of her view, the space coming to life with noise and chaos as the underground base is uncovered.
She’s shaking heavily, she realizes, as she’s encouraged to sit on the dirty floors just to the side of the ruined doorway. She slides down the wall until she’s crouched there, hands jittering despite the fists she balls them into. Her stomach hurts, magic still swirling somewhere within her, refusing to die out.
Grayson is staring at her as if she’s a puzzle to piece together; wise eyes watching her expression. Caitlyn meets this stare after a moment of righting herself. A beat passes between them, and she can tell the woman wants to ask her about what just occurred.
“We’ve got them,” comes over the 2-way radios, voice sparking with static and interrupting the silent exchange between captains. “They’re alive, we need medical. Over.”
Cait snags the radio from her mentor.
“Did they inject Vi with anything?” She demands into it.
“Roger, checking.”
She uses the hand the harpy above her offers to stand on unsteady legs, moving to walk down the stairs and find out herself.
“They haven’t cleared the area yet,” Grayson says, trying to halt her.
“So cover me,” she snaps, continuing her descent.
They’re halfway down the stairs, the sounds of shouted commands and movement just beyond the bend filtering through the space.
“Captain, nothing was injected, over.”
“Grayson and Kiramman approaching,” Grayson calls out as they turn the corner. There are far more men than she had thought going off of Vi’s hearing, at least a dozen lie on their stomachs on the floor as they’re searched.
Caitlyn brushes past them, taking long strides until she reaches a doorway where more officers are standing. Jayce is in this room, his head hanging in his exhaustion, but speaking as he rubs his newly freed wrists.
He’s sitting heavily against the wall on the floor, his shoulders caving inward, weighed down with fatigue. He meets her eye briefly as she walks further into the space, his expression relieved, a palpable sigh exhaling from his lips. He tilts his head, gesturing with his great horns toward the other end of the room where another doorway sits open.
In the adjacent room several tactical officers are standing between her the familiar grey eyes that meet her across the space.
Cait lets out a shaky breath, feeling herself wrap into an embrace despite not perceiving herself move forward.
Vi is soaked from sweat, her shirt damp with it, hair curling on the ends. She can feel the thrum of exhaustion from the other woman, clear as day through their bond, but also through the way her shoulders are rolled forward, arms shaky as they wrap the elf’s torso.
Cait’s ears, even without enhanced hearing, pick up the hum of car batteries that had hooked to her girlfriend through a complicated-looking series of wires. The mess lies discarded but still sparking as two officers work to disarm the torture device that had managed to keep her girlfriend’s strength subdued.
They had orchestrated this whole thing expecting a minotaur, and when a werewolf had joined the equation they’d thrown her into the same designed torture method. Both of the creatures, due to their extreme strength, were difficult to keep subdued. The gang had wired them up to car batteries, keeping them both restrained with low level electrocution.
The thrum of power makes her shiver with rage, her hands curling a little harder around her girlfriend and pull her until there is no space between them. Cait had hit the ground hard, knees aching a little as she feels herself scoot even closer to where the werewolf is seated on a chair, likely where she’d been restrained until just moments ago.
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” is whispered into her hair as she holds onto Violet with an iron-clad grip.
“You’re not,” she seethes, pulling back to hold her face gently in her tremoring hands. Vi looks exhausted, her eyes dark and sunken from the nearly full day of no sleep or sustenance, the physical demands of continuous healing taking a toll on her.
All of her veins stand out on her exposed skin, proclaiming the strain she’d just survived as her body works triple time to heal her from her wounds, sluggish from the lack of sleep or sustenance. Cait pulls a hand down to turn the woman’s arm, brushing her thumb over the unmarked skin of her inner elbow.
She repeats this a few times, staring at the skin that had knit itself together likely immediately after the electrical current was cut.
“I’m okay,” Vi repeats, brushing her hands over her cheek. “Is Talis alive?”
“Talis is alive,” he responds, his tone likely attempting to be comedic but falling short in its flat, exhausted delivery. “And going to the hospital.”
They turn to the minotaur who’s being held up by one of the tactical enforcers, his weight leaning bodily against the other man as he stands on weak legs. He’s favoring his right leg, Cait notes distantly. His eyes, despite their exhaustion, are bright and clear when he looks them over.
They have to repeat the same arrangement for Vi, her legs unsteady as they pull her from the room and up through the stairway to the ground level. They’re all more than happy when medical is able to take over, immediately putting the two enforcers on stretchers and taking them to the county hospital closer to the precinct.
_____________
Mere hours later, the adrenaline has fully subsided. It leaves Caitlyn in a state of bone-deep exhaustion, nerves fried. Jayce and Vi both were receiving several series of evaluations by the capable team of medical professionals the enforcers kept on payroll.
The werewolf, fortunate as a shifter species and being in peak health, was healing quite quickly. Her extreme dehydration being the worst of her state of being, and her nerves taking a toll from the unyielding hours of electrical torture.
Jayce was fairing worse, suffering from several broken bones on top of electrical burns. Resilient as he is, his body took a toll from the experience.
He was resting, asleep before they’d even finished his first X-ray. Vi was off getting another scan, a shifter specialist having arrived to ensure the healing of her mate going as needed.
It leaves the elf to sit in a low traffic hallway just off the entrance to the ICU along with Viktor, who offers her silent support and terrible hospital coffee.
The beverage she’d been nursing had dwindled to half volume and a lukewarm temperature by the time Captain Grayson draws her attention. The harpy leans against the wall across from the two elves, arms crossed over her chest, head tilting as she sizes up the other woman.
Cait answers by leaning forward, elbows bracing on her thighs as she looks up to her questioningly.
“So, crime scene investigation came back with a preliminary report.” She says, her accent taking on a conversational tone but something in the measured words makes the elf squint before making an inquisitive noise in response.
“The hideout we uncovered was just the tip of the iceberg. There’s an entire unground tunnel system, some leftover architecture from city planning back in the 80’s. Talis’ team had been trying to uncover how exactly the Shimmer operation was able to move such a large quantity of drugs and weapons without detection. I suppose we found it.”
She nods along with the new information.
“They had used some magic to obscure it, old cloaking spells that are pretty nasty to crack. We probably would have walked in circles in that hospital if you hadn’t led us right to the entrance.”
“Ah,” Cait offers, “Good thing, then.”
Viktor is looking between the two, the common elf remaining steadily quiet during the exchange.
She waits for the other shoe to drop. Keen, brown eyes focus on her for a moment before the other captain continues.
“Magicked the entrance, too.” Cait’s jaw clenches. “Might never had gotten it open with all the runes they put on that thing. Which we didn’t even see, what with the doors being… crushed.”
They’re locked in a staring contest. Her coffee draws colder in her grasp.
Eventually, the elf just offers a quiet, “Huh,” as if fascinated by the information.
“You know, it’s illegal to be an unregistered magic user.” Grayson’s tone is cool, but neutral.
“I am a registered magic user.”
The harpy blinks, unimpressed. “You’re telling me that was Kiramman magic that bent an expertly magically-reinforced steel door.”
“Yes.”
The older woman shifts her weight from one leg to the other, head tilting in observation.
“And if I said that I don’t believe you.”
Caitlyn’s eyebrows raise marginally, her own head tilting to match the angle of the other woman’s.
“I’d say that bond magic is a pretty powerful thing.”
Grayson peers at her queerly, one of her high arched eyebrows raised in scrutiny. After a beat, she breaks the staring contest with a shake of her head and a laugh.
“You did good work today, Kiramman, even if you did go off the rails a little bit.” Her tone is amused, maybe a little incredulous.
The elf sits back finally, sinking lower in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair, one of four that line the hallway.
“I won’t apologize for acting emotionally when my mate is in danger.” She states, seriously. “I’m level-headed with the other 99.7% of people in Piltover, allow me a little leeway when it comes to my family.”
The captain pushes off from the wall, approaching to pat her on the shoulder kindly, before turning down the hall.
“I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t.” She offers over her shoulder as she departs.
“You have some backbone, Caitlyn Kiramman.” Viktor breaths out, shaking his head in amused disbelief.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She mumbles, feeling more tired now than she had in years.
_____________
“Violet, Caitlyn!” Her mother’s voice sounds caught between alarm and delight, the regal woman standing to embrace her daughter and daughter-in-law when they make their way through the entrance of their apartment. “I wasn’t expecting you back this early, I thought it would be much later.”
“Hey mom,” Cait smiles tiredly, her girlfriend repeating the greeting before making her way over to the playpen that houses their daughter a handful of steps away. “The hospital cleared Violet to go home as long as she promises to rest for the next week, and come for a follow-up. How’s Junie?”
“An angel, but she will probably get quite fussy soon, she refused to nap at all today.” Her mother states, turning to watch where the two werewolves are now reclined on the couch, Vi grinning down at her child as she makes happy baby noises and climbs all over her torso.
“I’m sure it was a lot for her to be away from home so much this week. Thanks, mom.”
Her mother waves her off primly, “Of course, darling. Do you two need anything?”
“About a year of sleep, and maybe a career change.” The elf mutters.
“You don’t mean that,” Her mother’s teal eyes are a mirror of her own as they meet again. “You love this career, and you’re excellent at it. The both of you are.”
She sighs, rubbing her eyes a little with her thumb and forefinger.
“I do. And Vi does, too. We have a lot to consider, but definitely not right now.”
“You two need rest, do you want me to stay and watch Junie?”
“No, I think we’ve got it covered. Well, looks like Vi has it covered.” They turn to look where JJ is rubbing her face into the hollow of her mother’s throat, the pair radiating comfort. One of her girlfriend’s large hands pressed to the baby’s spine, rubbing over her little torso in soothing motions.
“Alright then, you two get some sleep. Your father and I can come again tomorrow if you need.”
She smiles accepting the hug her mother offers as she passes. She watches the high elf council member approach the pair of werewolves, kissing each in turn on the forehead and giving Vi a little affectionate pat before exiting.
Vi, despite cooing at her daughter’s attempt to teeth on her finger, looks like she’d aged a year at least in the past day.
“Come on,” Cait says, pulling the baby from her perched place on Vi’s chest. “You can babble at your daughter from the comfort of our bed,” she offers a hand to the wolf who takes it and pulls herself from her reclined position. She’s heavy, Cait having to brace her feet to leverage the woman upward.
JJ immediately latches a hand into her hair, tugging the locks she normally kept up and away from curious little hands. The elf snorts, pressing a kiss over the lilac-haired forehead and begrudgingly accepting the abuse of her scalp as they make their way back to their bedroom.
Their daughter wiggles on the werewolf’s chest when she reclines again on the mattress, bunching the fabric of the Piltover Enforcer t-shirt between her tiny fists as she pulls herself about. Cait scoots closer, sitting up against the headboard and watching over the two with a soft expression.
Caitlyn brushes her fingers through Vi’s hair, detangling the mess gently as the werewolf’s eyes grow heavier and heavier, finally slipping closed as she slips into heavy sleep.
Despite being unconscious, she continues to rumble contentedly, a low purr that lulls their baby still perched on her chest.
Juniper falls in line behind her, her round cheeks bunching where she lays belly-down, little face turned where Cait can see her eyes slip close. She’d gotten Vi’s eyes, the stormy grey color still at chance of changing being so recent since her birth. Cait hopes they stay as they are.
Cait spends a little time sending off some emails from her phone, and speaking to Mel about their respective partners. Jayce had been admitted to the hospital until his healing was more underway, but his girlfriend had joined him there shortly after they’d arrived. The gorgon was fairing quite well all things considered, but she had always been a particularly level-headed person to contrast Jayce’s easy-going nature.
Viktor had stayed back too, still soundlessly concerned for his partner. He’d sent a rather cute picture of both Mel and Jayce squeezed into a hospital bed, sleeping curled together.
Mostly, the elf spends the following few hours watching her mate and child as they slumber. The late afternoon draws onward into true evening, eventually pulling her to move JJ and take her properly into her nursery to sleep.
Vi’s eyes are open, bleary as they are, when she breaches the room again a handful of minutes later. She looks on, searchingly, eyes darting over Cait’s disheveled form. The elf hadn’t changed since they’d gotten back, only kicked off her shoes and ripped over the layer of her oversized sweatshirt. It leaves her barefoot, in a creased undershirt and leggings.
Her girlfriend wasn’t fairing much better. She sits in a standard-issue enforcer t-shirt they’d given her at the hospital, and she’d kicked her pants off, probably unconsciously, right before crawling into their bed. The boxers she wears aren’t her own, and Cait is amused at the idea of someone going out of their way to provide her undergarments during her brief hospital stay.
“Are you hungry?” the elf whispers, approaching the bed with soft sliding footsteps. Her feet seem to not be able to pick themselves up all the way as she walks, the heels dragging along their carpet with a ‘swooshing’ sound on each footfall.
Vi shakes her head, hair falling around her ears endearingly when she comes to a stop.
“I feel like you’re probably hungry.” She presses.
Cait can feel the thrumming pull of undernourishment low in her mate’s belly. She searches for it in their bond, the answering bruise-like soreness that is widespread among Vi’s nervous system, partially obscuring the more specific signals. She’s not starving, seeing that finishing a meal in the hospital was a condition of her release, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to throw together something else to sate her.
A corner of her mate’s lips quirks upward in amusement at her accusation, the werewolf reaching forward to usher her back onto the bed.
The elf is pulled forward when their hands meet and urged to embrace the relaxed posture of her girlfriend. Her skin is very warm where it presses to Cait’s, the sleep heat bleeding into the blankets and soothing something in her. She exhales as she curls into the hollow of Vi’s throat and hums, pleased, when her strong arms encircle her and hold.
She can feel satisfaction and safety bleed through their connection in a slow pour, heavy like honey.
“You’re not hurting?” She inquires a beat later.
“No,” Vi’s throat is scratchy from the impromptu nap. “A little sore, but more tired than anything. JJ still sleeping?”
“Yeah, she’s out like a light. Mom says she didn’t sleep a lot last night or today, so she’ll probably get a lot tonight.”
“Must’ve been hard, being away from home overnight twice in just a few days.”
“I think she probably picked up on a lot of the distress we all had. She’s intuitive, that one.” Cait muses.
“Ah,” Vi hums, a pleased little rumble under Cait’s chest. “I’d expect no less from our little prodigy.”
“She’s not a prodigy just because she can sense emotions, that’s pretty typical for werewolves at this age.”
“I dunno, I feel like she’s already surpassing me in that department.”
Cait titters, rubbing her forehead against the woman’s neck as she settles further into the embrace. They’re lying on each other now, Vi having leaned back so she’s mostly flat, only propped slightly on the pile of pillows they have adorning their shared bed.
Though Cait is the one curled on top of her, she feels incredibly protected in the embrace, her knees caging in her girlfriend’s hips, arms wound under her body to press at the curve of her shoulder blades.
“You’re better at it than you think.”
“You don’t count, we’re magically bonded.” Vi snarks, letting out a little exhaled laugh when long fingers move to trace playfully over her sides.
It’s the sweetest music to hear after the last day.
They doze for a little, Cait a little less alert now that they get hours out from the abduction and rescue. She can tell, in a fair away sort of manner, that Vi is now too restless to sleep quite so hard, but she’s floating contentedly in the space between consciousness.
It’s like she blinks, and suddenly the room is cast in far darker lighting. There’s an orange glow from their bedside sconces, giving rise to wild shadows that paint across the walls. The curtains had been drawn at some point, the bed rearranged to be less of a chaotic mess of sheets, pillows, and tangled blankets.
She shifts, wiggling as she rolls to the side and looks up at her mate. She’s sitting up in the bed, one hand curled over Cait’s back where she’s sprawled over her lap. Her face had been pressed into the woman’s hip, and now her head rolls properly onto her thighs to peer up at the woman.
She looks like she’d showered again, her hair darker with moisture, and tucked behind her ears. The werewolf had never liked the smell of any of the standard-issue stuff at the hospital or in the precinct, some ingredient irritating to her sensitive senses.
Vi knows she’s awake, but she keeps her eyes on the phone in her other hand for a moment more. Her thumb is moving, the sound of clicking keys disturbing the otherwise quiet of their bedroom.
“My father wants to thank you,” she says finally, looking down at Cait’s teal blue eyes. She makes and inquisitive noise, drawing a finger over the clothed thigh she rests atop. “For finding me. Saving me.”
“He doesn’t need to say thank you for that,” she asserts.
“Well, he’s grateful.” The phone is discarded, making a soft noise as it lands somewhere else on the mattress. “I think the pack is gonna come over tomorrow sometime, check in. Probably bring lots of food.” Cait hums in response, feeling content at the prospect.
They’re probably a little on edge, one of their own being in danger. Cait wonders if she’d told her father about the mercury, a difficult conversation to have with one’s parent.
Vi’s fingers, however callous, are soft as they draw through her indigo locks. The feeling soothes her, leaving little bursts of pleasure that sprinkle down her spine.
“Y’know you saved my life today, Cait.”
Her eyes blink open where they had fallen shut again. The werewolf sounds a little awe-inspired, staring down at her with an unblinking, intense expression.
Cait shuffles a little, getting her knees underneath her so she can swing one over Vi’s hips and settle into her lap. She slouches, meeting the woman’s eye with her own half-lidded gaze, her arms going to rest loosely over the woman’s shoulders.
“I would burn the world down if it meant bringing you home safe.” Her voice is steady, eyes drinking into the rapt expression on her mate’s face. Her girlfriend blinks against the statement, astonished by the vehemence in her words.
Vi kisses her like it’s a religion. It’s all pressure and warmth, their mouths sliding against each other’s in a slow glide. It feels lazy in the way that it’s unhurried, but something heady thrums through their bond.
Teeth, sharp but delicately controlled, push to her bottom lip and pull. The resulting sting curls a string of pleasure low in her belly, a short noise leaving her from deep inside her chest.
She doesn’t know who moves first, but one of them is fumbling at getting her pants off before it’s the both of them pressing at the waistband and encouraging the fabric away.
Vi’s fingers hook under her undershirt and she’s left in only a bra, cotton and black. The skin of her thighs is sensitive, feeling the soft brush of fabric from Vi’s lounge pants as she settles over her and presses her hands up through the clean, damp locks of hair.
The press of Vi’s mouth on her mating bite has her tilting her head back, her long hair brushing over the skin of her shoulder blades where they jut from her skin. She feels her body warm under the attention. The scarred skin over the mark had remained sensitive despite the long-healed status, and each press of lips and teeth send little prickles of heat down her chest.
The elf lets out a ghost of a whimper when teeth sink into the layer of her bra and press to the nipple underneath it. The fangs don’t pierce through the material but they feel like they could, pressing sharp little points of pleasure into her system.
Vi’s hands are dancing over her hips, petting the skin of her flank and pressing into the curve of her ass. She feels the woman’s dick hardening under where the apex of her legs is pressed to her lap.
Caitlyn’s hips twitch forward, rocking over the woman and back again. She feels Vi’s answering groan where it’s exhaled into the skin of her breast, the teeth fitting against the delicate swell of tissue at her sternum. One of Cait’s hands comes up, pulling the cup of the bra to the side and relishing in the immediate answering bite she’s rewarded with.
Vi’s tongue is perfect where it swipes over her nipple, lavishing the tissue with attention where it grows tight and peaked under the stimulation. Her long fingers tighten in the hold she has on the pink hair, the tresses pulling under her command to pull the attention away from her chest.
The werewolf’s eyes are blown, color swallowed by the dark pupils that swim for a moment before focusing on her. Ever so good, she waits patiently for Cait to move, sliding their lips together again. Her slim fingers curl, the pink locks pulling taut and she feels the full-body shudder that rattles through her girlfriend in response. She licks over her lips, feeling them part pliantly under the questioning press, allowing her to dip her tongue to swipe at the sharp points of her canines.
She moves her hands, one sliding around the curve of her skull to hold at the base of it, and tug at the shorter hairs that grow there. Her other hand presses lower, sliding atop the broad, strong shoulders to where Cait unconsciously knows her magicked bitemark sits. The fabric of the worn sports t-shirt she’d donned post-shower separates her touch, but she still feels the ringing sensation that presses from her fingertips as she reaches the scar tissue.
“Cait,” Vi’s voice is little more than a whisper. She hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t let the woman answer, instead licking into her mouth again. The slick slide of their tongues makes heat roll through her stomach, pooling low in her pelvis. Vi’s fingers move to press under her bra, pushing it up and away to cup her heavy breasts.
Her breath hitches at the skin to skin contact, her nipples caught between her thumbs and forefingers. Cait eventually breaks their kiss, letting her head hang between them as she shivers at the attention.
She was expecting to be less sensitive now that she’d been through the experience of breastfeeding, but she’d been shocked to find her breasts more sensitive than before. Vi has delighted in this.
The elf stares down at where wide palms cup her chest, pressing the skin up to meet where Vi leans forward and presses her teeth to the heavy curve of her left breast. The sharp fangs are like pinpricks in the baby soft skin there. Her fingers tighten in the hold she has on her hair, pulling a little harder than she intends from the sudden pleasure-pain combination.
Vi lets out a low noise in response, rolling her tongue over the abused area, pulling back to admire the little ruddy mark she’d left there.
“Babe,” Cait says, drawing her gaze upward. “Take off your pants.”
She’s shuffled immediately, gently to the side, where she sits on her knees and watches the woman disrobe obediently. The shuffling from undressing in a reclined position shouldn’t be attractive, but the way her muscles bunch due to the awkward movements make her mouth go dry. She’s so strong, physically, mentally. It’s unfair, Cait thinks distantly as she pulls her bra from her torso, leaving her naked. Downright unreasonable really, how attractive the woman in front of her is.
Her ogling must curl through the bond sweetly because a little blush rises to Vi’s cheeks when she tosses her pants across the room, followed by the shirt.
When Cait makes to crawl back over the now nude woman, she’s instead encouraged back, pulled until she’s lying back against the layers of pillows bunched at the head of their bed. She snorts, her hands running through the woman’s hair as she settles over her. The press of open-mouthed kisses to her breasts is her response, them leaving quickly-cooling patches of saliva as a pattern is drawn across the soft tissue.
Her long legs wind around the knees that splay her thighs open, the shifting letting them settle torso to torso. She feels the hot line of her dick against her pelvis, the organ flushed and blood warm. Cait lets out a little noise at the press of teeth to her nipple, the feeling of desire cresting into something demanding and unbearable.
There’s an unspoken conversation that passes through their bond. The demanding force of Cait’s wanting spilling into the liminal, amorphous space and Vi’s answering acknowledgement.
The woman pulls back, peering down at where her hair is fanned around her pretty face. There’s something warm and gentle that passes from each of them to the other before Vi moves, pressing her dick up against her entrance.
The slide is easy with how wet she is.
Cait lets out a little noise, feeling the way she opens up around her mate, yielding to the press.
“Come back here,” she commands, opening her arms for the woman to fall back into her embrace. Their lips meet under Cait’s urging, her body winding around the woman. Vi’s hips stutter for a second, finding a rhythm in the less than ideal position. With the elf closing her in like this, she can hardly pull back, but the slow grind of her dick deep inside of her is perfect.
Cait feels the way the muscles of the werewolf’s shoulders bunch and pull under where she’s wrapped her hands there, digging her nails into the skin that grows a little warmer. She can feel the way her breath becomes just subtly harder, only perceivable due to the press of her chest against Cait’s coming a little more often as time ticks on.
Through the bond, she can tell she’s still sore, an ache in the muscles that the elf’s fingers dig into.
She clenches, feeling the way her cunt yields readily to the slick glide of her mate’s dick. The grind barely has her slipping halfway out before pushing back in, her toes curling at the constant stream of stimulation that presses friction against her entrance.
“I wanna hear your heartbeat,” she demands suddenly, gasping as Vi presses a little harder into her.
Cait snorts as she feels a little playful jab come through their bond, something that takes the shape of “bossy” in her mind before the werewolf complies and lets her own heartbeat play through her heightened hearing.
It’s strong, thundering with even, fast thuds that she can practically feel vibrate in her mind.
Her eyes slide shut, head tilting back as a pleased hum escapes her lips. The slick sounds of her cunt opening around her mate is nearly just as loud in her mind, but she concentrates on the sound of the heartbeat that screams “I’m alive, we’re alive, we’re okay.”
Vi moans, head falling forward so she can press her lips to the mating bite on Cait’s lean neck.
The elf feels her magic swell suddenly in her chest, a little jump of confusion following at the unintended reaction. She blinks, brain desperately trying to figure out where her unconscious spell may have ended up.
“Fuck, baby-” the wolf sounds wrung out, gasping as she presses upward to separate them a little. Cait digs her fingers into the skin of her shoulders, clinging there to prevent her from creating much space between them. She moans, tossing her head back when she feels a shocking new development to their evening.
Vi’s knot is swelling, the widening at the base of her dick pressing up against her cunt.
“I’m,” She gasps, tempo stuttering. “I’m not in rut.”
Cait knows that. She moans, her hands flexing over the sweaty, freckled skin of her mate’s shoulders.
“Magic,” she mutters, hissing as the organ widens, pressing up against her rim where the skin is sensitive to the stretch. “Felt my magic, ah, do something.”
“Fuck,” Vi’s head hangs heavy between her shoulders. “Fuck, I didn’t know you could do that.”
She shakes her head, she didn’t either.
“Are you okay?” She gasps out instead.
She’d be lying if she said she was disappointed in this turn of events, it having been nearly one and a half years since Vi’s last rut, since pregnancy was a natural inhibitor to the werewolf hormone cycle. She’d learned that it’d be surprising if her mate went through one again before Junie was 2 years old, since it’s not common for wolves to have litters back to back.
“Yeah,” Vi breaths out, leaning up more to look down at where she’s fucking in Cait. The skin at the base of her dick is ruddy and hot, taut with the swell that greatens as the minutes pass. “That’s really hot,” She laughs breathlessly.
Cait hums, amused, which breaks off into a whimper when her thrusts resume their tempo. Her heartbeat thrums in the back of her mind, steadily rising under the physical demand.
The werewolf curls forward, letting out a string of half-formed noises. Caitlyn winds her arms around her shoulders again, pulling her close and digging her fingers into the skin underneath her hold. Little divots have formed where she was pressing her nails before, half-crescents littering the skin of her upper back. Vi’s face is pressed into skin of her neck, her hot pants of air fanning over her clavicle.
“Baby, can I knot you?”
“Yes, yeah.” She gasps out, feeling the swell of it press right up against her cunt, grinding against her opening that stings with the sudden shift. She presses her nails deeper into Vi’s skin, feeling herself yield and letting out a pathetic noise when they’re locked together.
Her dick feels heavy inside of her, and molten hot. The wolf is shaking, curling around her and pressing as deep into her cunt as she can. She comes with a stuttering gasp, hands twisting into the sheets on either side of Cait’s body.
The elf inhales deeply, feeling a sense of fullness she hadn’t in many months.
“Fuck, that’s wild.” Vi mumbles into her neck.
“Sorry,” she offers, petting down her back with long, smoothing motions. “I genuinely didn’t even feel it happening until it already was.”
“Don’t you dare apologize, I’m so turned on right now.”
“I modified your body without your consent.” She mutters, perturbed.
“Yeah alright, or you found the single most mind-numbingly horny thing I’ve always wished I could do and did it for me.” Vi leans back, grinning down at her.
“You never told me that.”
She shrugs, trying to pull back further but is stopped by Cait’s hold on her.
“Yeah ‘cause it’s like, not possible to knot on command. I guess unless your mate is a high elf sorcerer, it isn’t. Stupid teenaged werewolves everywhere wish they could do this shit.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you kept this a secret from me because it’s a juvenile desire?”
Vi is laughing, fully against her, her torso shaking with the sound.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Wow,” She tones, feigning disapproval. “Now I understand the phrase ‘knothead.’”
Her girlfriend is reduced to beautiful laughter, the sound of it bright in the quiet of their early morning bedroom. She hums at the end note of it, sounding still deeply bemused, pressing a kiss to Cait’s lips.
“Let me get you off.” She demands, still being held in place by Caitlyn’s unyielding hold around her shoulders.
She ponders, shifting a little and feeling where the knot is pressed hot and heavy inside of her. It wouldn’t take much to make her come like this, already wound up from the knotting, but a different kind of desires pulls at her.
“No,” She decides, “Just, lay down. I wanna feel you like this.”
Vi seems a little lost at the request, tilting her head in question. When Cait doesn’t expound on it, she shuffles to tuck herself into the reclined form beneath her.
She sighs, content with the weight of the other woman pressed over her, shrouding her in warm comfort.
Her hands resume their gentle press, up and down, and back again. The wolf purrs into her neck, the sound loud against her where the sound of her heartbeat had gotten further away in her mind.
“Don’t go where I can’t follow,” She demands, suddenly, speaking out into the quiet of their room.
“I’d be hard-pressed to find somewhere you couldn’t come after me.” Vi mumbles into her neck, pausing to kiss into the skin there. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Cait, for the first time in all of this, feels her eyes prickle with tears. Her face grows warm under the influence of emotion, a little sniffle leaving her.
“I love you.” Violet says it so easily, so often. It’s not like it’s hard for her to know, but in the shadow of the day they’d just had, it feels like the first time she’d heard it. The weight of the words press down on her, prickling over her skin like rainfall. “Everything I love comes from you.”
“Stop, I’m already crying.” She croaks, moving one of her hands to swipe at the tears that had collected in her long eyelashes. “I love you too.”
“Sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize for getting kidnapped.”
“Well,” she sounds a little troubled, pressing a little harder into her neck. “It upset you.”
“I was fine until right now.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re more stubborn than I am.” Vi shifts to lean up, looking down at her where she’s failing to clear away the tears before they curve over her angled cheekbones. The wolf shuffles her weight to one hand, bringing up the other to brush against her damp cheek where the tear tracks are starting to streak.
“I resent that.” Caitlyn tries to find the humor in their banter but she’s so emotionally exhausted, the tears continuing to fall despite her best efforts. She tilts her face into her hand, letting it cup fully around her jaw. “You were the one who nearly died today, you should be crying.”
“You’re the strongest person I know, but this was hard for you too.” Her eyes are soft, watching Cait’s expression that crumples under the validation. She cries, her breath hitching as she clings to her mate, the sobs hard where they catch deep in her in her chest.
“I was so scared,” She admits, not caring that she’s probably holding her a too hard, trapping one of Vi’s arms between them where she’s still curling her hand around her face. “I thought I wasn’t… I didn’t know if I could open those doors, I was so scared you were going to die only feet from me and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”
She feels all the waves of gratitude and comfort that crest into their shared bond space. It makes her ache with the idea that she could have lost this.
“You’re incredible.” Vi mumbles, voice a little muffled from how she’s being contained in Caitlyn’s embrace. “I knew you could. As soon as I felt you were close, I knew I was going to be okay.”
She sobs again, “Stop being so good, I hate that you know what to say to make me feel better.” Her voice is thick from her tears.
“No, you don’t.” Sings through their bond.
No, she doesn’t.
“I was scared.” She admits, thumb stroking over Cait’s cheek where her hand still rests. “I’ve never been in a situation like that. Not even prison was scary in that way. I was…” She sounds a little far away for a moment. “I wasn’t sure of really anything, I was disoriented the whole time, but… I knew you’d come get me. I could feel it, maybe the bond, I dunno. I just knew it was true.”
Eventually she stops crying, truly and completely exhausted by the years’ worth of emotional energy being expending in a handful of hours.
The induced knot goes down, Vi pressing fingers to her cunt when she’s able to slip out of her finally. Cait’s back had wound itself into a mess of tension from the angle, groaning as she curls onto her side.
“Hey, let me wash the sheets. My entire pack is gonna be able to smell this tomorrow.”
“Kinky,” she jokes, relishing in the answering laugh.
When they slide together, after a brief shower from Cait, and some late-night laundry by Violet, it’s like heaven.
The werewolf presses gentle kisses to her forehead, the emotion in them bringing a new wave of moisture to Cait’s eyes. She curls further into her, legs tangled so they can press together front to front. One of the wolf’s hands is curling around the base of her skull, thumb pressing gently to the curve of one of her large, pointed ears. It sends a little wave of pleasure and comfort throughout her body.
“Junie is probably gonna wake us up in like 2 hours,” She mumbles into her mate’s collarbone.
“Let her,” Vi whispers back. “I need more baby time.”
Sleep, blessedly, is dreamless.
______________
“I’m in your home!” Jinx calls from the entryway, having let herself in.
“Hey, welcome.” Cait calls from the kitchen, pouring herself a second cup of coffee. JJ teeths on a silicon ring from her bouncy swing that hangs from the high arch between the living room and kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No, but I am hungry for a teeny tiny werewolf.”
Cait turns, snorting at the image of the woman crouching over her niece with her arms up in a dramatic pouncing pose, fingers curled into mock-claws. She descends to press her fingers into the infant’s sides, the peals of laughter loud from her daughter.
“You can take her out of that, I just needed a minute with my hands free.”
Her sister-in-law obeys, the werewolves joining her at the table where the other woman sits heavily.
“How are you doing?” Jinx asks, bouncing JJ on her knee as she facing the elf fully.
“Still pretty tired, but feeling a lot better than yesterday. Your sister is in the shower.”
“I figured, I can hear it.” She tilts her head, pointy ear poised toward the hallway to their bedroom. “She doing okay?”
“Yeah,” Cait breaths out. “Yeah, she’s invincible, you know her. I think I probably was more affected by it all than she was. Did your dad tell you about it?”
“Somewhat, really just that she was abducted along with one of her coworkers, and that you helped get her back. And… well, he said it could’ve gotten bad. Like really bad.”
She nods, taking another sip of coffee from her blue mug.
“Yeah, it was… it was too close for comfort.” She exhales at the admission. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if we didn’t have a true mating bond like we do, I wouldn’t have been able to get enough details otherwise.”
Jinx looks up from where she was making faces down at her niece. Juniper makes another little happy sound when the bouncing resumes.
“Your magic is crazy, elf lady.” She says.
Caitlyn laughs.
“I guess it is. Well, really, I should be thanking you more than anything. We probably wouldn’t have this bond if it weren’t for you.”
Her dark brows scrunch, an expression of confusion passing over her freckled face.
“Why are you thanking me? I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did, you’re the whole reason we even made a mating bond like this. Well, at least some of the reason, my magic is really the main reason. I figured Vander would have told you about how it happened.”
“I mean, dad said you’d managed to make a bond form on your end, and that as far as we can tell it’s equivalent to any other shifter bond. But he didn’t go into, like, details.”
“Oh,” She sits back, taking another sip of her coffee, eyes crinkling at her daughter who tugs on one of the long blue braids that had made its way in her line of reach. Jinx’s head pulls to the side with the force of it but she keeps her eyes locked on Cait’s, undeterred by the action. “Well, I will say it wasn’t intentional. I had no idea I could do something like that, and I don’t think it would have happened had the set of circumstances not been what they were.”
“What d’ya mean?” She inquires, head tilting with another tug.
“I took your advice.” Cait says it more like a question, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. She was sure it had come up sometime in the past year. “I guess the combination of factors all compounded, my magic and that type of dominant werewolf connection. We bonded that first time we tried it.” She laughs a little at the memory, fingers toying over her coffee mug.
Jinx is staring at her when she looks back up, eyes wide but positively sparkling with mirth.
“You took my advice.” She states, imploringly.
“Yes?”
“Babe-” Vi warns from the mouth of their hallway, but it’s too late.
A grin breaks out on the younger werewolf’s face, her line of sight going over Cait’s shoulder to zero in on her sister. The elf turns just in time to see her mate flush from her cheeks to her pointy ears. By the time she catches up, it’s too late.
Jinx is full on cackling, her head thrown back, large sharp teeth on display. Their daughter bounces in her lap, adding happy baby gurgling alongside her aunt’s gleeful laugh.
“You gotta be kidding me,” She says through heaves of laughter. “You’re,” she pauses, inhaling on another laugh. “You’re telling me that getting dicked down by your girlfriend is what saved your life?”
“Well,” Cait logics, “That wasn’t. The whole reason.”
“Stop,” Violet moans, miserably, her hands coming up to cover her flushed face from view.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t tell her.”
She gestures wildly to the still hysterical form of her sister, who now has tears rolling down her face. JJ seems amused by the show, reaching her tiny palms up toward Jinx’s laughing face.
“This. This is why I didn’t tell her.”
The woman’s laugh is contagious, a moment of looking mildly sheepish in response to her mate’s glower is broken by a little giggle. Which turns into a snort. Which turns into an actual laugh, the two women seated at the kitchen table both descending into hysterics.
“Unbelievable.” Vi mutters, turning around and walking down the hallway, throwing her hands up in defeat.
“Babe, no,” She calls, still giddy with amusement, “I’m sorry, I am. Come back.”
“The power of love and strap on’s saved my sister’s life.” Jinx cackles wildly, lifting their daughter in the air who screams in delight.
“What did I walk in on?” Vander’s voice is loud but warm, his burly brow scrunched in confusion. He has a huge box over one shoulder, probably takeout from some restaurant, enough to feed a small army or a medium-sized pack of werewolves.
“Don’t worry about it, I have to go beg my mate’s forgiveness.” The elf smiles at him, patting his shoulder as she passes, leaving him in the kitchen with his still laughing daughter and equally delighted granddaughter.
She nudges the door to their bedroom closed behind her, leaning against it to stare at the pathetic form of her girlfriend. She’s sitting hunched on their reading chair in the corner of the room, face buried in her hands, elbows propped on her knees. Her ears are still burning red where she can see them poking out from under her wild hair, absolute humiliation burning through their bond.
“Hey,” she’s still a little amused, but it bleeds easily out of her voice as she steps further towards the woman’s form. “I really am sorry. I wouldn’t have told her if I knew it was going to bother you.”
Vi sighs, shoulders heaving with it as she finally scrubs down her face and looks up at her. She is nearly as pink as her hair, her cheeks burning.
“I’m not mad.” She says, honestly. “I just… really didn’t want to deal with that.” She gestures to the door behind her, and the woman who sits beyond the hallway.
“You could be mad,” she offers, sitting on her knees in front of the woman, bracing her hands on her knees. It puts them more at the same eyeline. Cait tilts her head, feeling her long hair brush back over the curve of one of her long elvish ears.
Vi’s eyes go to watch her hair fall for a moment before returning back to hold her gaze.
“I’m not.” She says a little more definitively. “My sister is…”
“A menace?”
“Annoying.” She grimaces, “But harmless. She’s just never gonna let me live this down.”
“I’ve never been more thankful to be an only child.” She muses, scooting forward to wrap her arms around her torso in a loose hold. Their lips brush together, the sensation of forgiveness weaving easily through their bond.
“C’mon, I can tell there are more people out there now.” She rolls back on her ankles and stands. Her hand, where she has offered it, is grasped in Vi’s and she joins her in standing. “You can think of ways I can earn your forgiveness while we deal with your pack.”
It’s quite the affair, casual as it is, but all the members of Vander’s pack make their way through their apartment throughout the rest of the afternoon. The group is rowdy and warm, full of life and embarrassing stories about both Vi and Jinx’s upbringing.
Juniper is the star of the show, more social than either of her parents, she only becomes fussy as the hour draws later.
“Her sleep schedule is all messed up.” Cait coos, rocking the whiny infant. “Too much sleep last night, not enough the night before. Poor thing.”
“She’ll live.” Vi muses, kissing the fussy baby on her forehead and stealing her from her girlfriend’s hold. Only her family remains, the other members of the pack having packed up and left a handful of minutes previous. “I’m gonna put her down, but thanks for coming by dad.”
“Kid, if you thank me one more time, I’m gonna kick you.” He tussles her unruly hair, which brings a grin to the werewolf’s face. “I’m glad you’re no worse for wear. I was worried about you.”
“I know,” she says, softly. “I’m okay.”
“All thanks to this one, really.” Jinx nudges Cait’s hip with her own. She has a lecherous grin on her face that Vi scowls at.
“Get out.” She shoots at her.
“Aw, sis, don’t be like that.”
“I hate you.”
“Vi,” Jinx whines, making an animated motion forward to fling her arms around the retreating woman’s back. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
“Yeah, yeah, love you too.”
Their father watches with an amused look on his face, throwing a thick arm around his elven daughter-in-law and pulling her against his massive form.
“I owe you a lot, Cait.” He rumbles.
“No, you don’t.” She smiles up at him when he pulls back.
Jinx gives her a hug of her own, promising to text her as the two make their way out of the apartment, taking with them the last of the boisterous energy that had filled the space for the bulk of the afternoon.
It’s evening now, the twilight sky painted rich hues of purple and pink. Cait stares up at it through their atrium as she finishes off the last of the dishes left to soak in the sink.
She can feel her mate draw close to her before their skin touches, so she doesn’t startle as the werewolf wraps herself around Cait’s back and crosses her arms across her torso. She hums, contentedly.
“Junie asleep?”
“Yeah, I read her exactly one page out of that fish book and she was out like a light.”
The elf laughs, shutting off the water where she’d been rinsing soap off some serving spoons. They clatter as she deposits them in the drying rack and turns, awkwardly, until she’s facing the woman in front of her.
“Hey.” She smiles.
Vi echoes it back to her.
“You tired? You look tired.” She feels tired too, the heavy press of fatigue weighting deep in her bones, tangible when Cait reaches for it through their connection.
A little thrill of anxiety passes through her too, right at the end, making the taller woman blink in surprise.
“Yeah, I just. I thought of something you could do, to make it up to me. Telling my sister about our bond night, that is.”
“Oh?” She inquires, drawing her hands up to brush back her hair where the pink locks had curled around her face.
Vi’s eyes slip closed as she continues to scratch there, running her blunt nails over her temples and feeling how her muscles relax under the touch. When she can tell she isn’t going to continue, Cait tilts her head up using her grip on the sides of her face.
“Would you like to share with the class?” She jokes.
Another thread of anxiety. Her curiosity is piqued.
“Y’know, the timing might be weird.” Uncharacteristically unsure and backpedaling. “A lot’s been happening, so it can wait.”
“Now you have to tell me.” Cait grins. A light blush colors her girlfriend’s cheeks, the woman’s eyes falling away from where they’d been holding her gaze. “C’mon, have I ever said no to something you asked for?”
“No,” Vi concedes. Her hands flex over Cait’s hips where they’d come to rest, a line of heat pressing deep into the skin there.
“Okay,” She finally exhales, seeming to steel herself. “Don’t feel obligated to say yes just ‘cause of… well, everything that’s happened. I won’t be upset if you don’t. You don’t like, owe me or anything, even after telling my sister about our bonding.”
“Violet.” She’s babbling. It’s amusing, sort of, but mostly it just increases her interest. It must be something significant to be having this much an effect.
“Sorry. Uh,” she fumbles for a moment, one hand pulling away from the curve of her hip and digging into the pocket of her pants. “My life belonged to you long before yesterday, and I know we’re already mated. But that’s more for me, and my culture. I want to make sure I’m giving myself to you in a way that’s significant for you, too.”
Cait’s mouth parts in shock.
“Cait, would you marry me?”
She has a ring box in her freehand, fitting perfectly in the center of her palm. Caitlyn stares at it, incredulous.
“Oh my god.” She mumbles. “How long have you been planning this?”
Vi looks cute, flushed and a little frantic.
“Since like, a month after we got together again.”
“You’ve been waiting to ask me to marry you for a year and a half?” Her voice is loud, she can tell, but she’s shocked.
“Cait are you gonna answer the question?”
“Yes, of course yes!”
Violet exhales, body going a little lax in her hold, relief palpable.
“How do you do that?” The high elf exclaims. “I feel like I can’t keep any secrets from you and you somehow kept the fact that you bought a ring from me for over a year!”
“Years of practice,” Vi is grinning widely. “You wanna see it?”
Caitlyn nods, relinquishing the hold she has on the other woman, allowing her to pop the little box open.
“Let me know if I made a good choice.”
“Of course you did,” She says, awed. It’s beautiful, a light green stone set in a winding motif of silver vines.
Falling in love with Vi didn't take much effort, she muses, letting her place the engagement ring on her slim finger. She’s kind and thoughtful, stubborn and funny. She’s an incredible partner, and even better parent. She falls headfirst into everything with the same degree of tenacity and drive, including how she’s approaches her relationship with Caitlyn.
“You’re going to be my wife,” Cait smiles into the third kiss the other woman presses to her lips in only a handful of minutes. “We’re gonna get married, I'm gonna perform about 80 protection spells on you, and we're going to live happily ever after because I cannot do another near-death experience.”
“If you insist.” Vi smiles, the edges of it curling into the next press of their lips.
It wasn’t hard to keep doing that. Most things with them, Cait was finding, weren’t really hard at all.
Fin.