Shadows of the Beholder pt 1

Chapter 12 - Shadows of the Beholder pt 1.-

Aisling lies in bed, her hand gliding down her body and slipping into her pants. Her fingers lightly touch her lower lips, causing her mouth to part as a moan escapes. The elven archer recalls the sounds she heard from Jabulani's room just an hour ago.

Was that really the Duke's wife? she wonders, her finger beginning to caress the slit of her lower lips.

She was having an illicit affair with the shaman from what I could hear... but why? How? Her tiny mouth bit down on her shirt that was in her mouth and held it up, revealing her bare a-cup breasts as her face started to flush.

The petite elf closed her eyes, imagining the scene, her fingers moving feverishly. Her mind raced with questions and fantasies, the majority of which replaced the Duke's wife with herself instead.

Aisling's breath quickens as she feels herself becoming wetter than ever before. She pulled her finger back from her slit and held it up, her face turning crimson at the sight of how soaked her fingers had become. Fluids drip from her finger onto her bare chest.

Is this because of what those bandits did to me, or... am I really just a horny slut? the elf questioned, staring at her fingers in frightened disbelief.

She shivered, caught between the sensations of her body and the turmoil in her mind. She wiped her fingers on her bedsheet, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. The room felt too small, too suffocating, filled with the echoes of her own pleasure, and that's when she noticed just how wet she really was; the bed sheet underneath her was completely damp, stained with her juices.

Her thoughts wandered back to the Duke's wife and the shaman, and she tried to piece together the fragments she had overheard. The elven archer couldn't fathom the reasons behind such a scandalous affair, nor could she ignore Adalwolf's words: they were all Jabulani's mates, women of his pack destined to carry his children—including herself.

Aisling, lost in her thoughts, did not hear the footsteps approaching her room. Before she knew it, a knock came on her door. Startled, she looked at the door with a blush. She scrambled to her feet, pulling on her top and quickly adjusting her pants before opening the door.

"Aisling?" Jabulani's deep voice called out from the other side of the door.

She paused for a moment, trying to regain her composure. Then she opened the door and was greeted by his familiar dark skin. His robes were draped around him, hiding his well-toned body.

"Yes?" She squeaked out, her heart pounding against her chest.

"May I come in?" he asked.

She paused, momentarily considering his question, her mind wandering back to the sounds she had heard coming from his room.

"Yes," she responded, opening the door to let him inside.

The tall man entered, his large frame dwarfing her small stature.

"Thank you. Anyway, I'm going back into the woods, this time further south, and I was hoping for you to come along with me because of your tracking expertise," he stated, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

"Tracking?" she questioned, "you mean tracking the remaining six anchors?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "We might as well deal with the threat we already know about. The spellgazer controlling the bandit camp is one of the anchors, and it will be even more dangerous now that we can assume it's fae-touched like the hydra was."

"I guess so, yeah. You're right," she admitted.

He turned his eyes to the bed, his nose twitching as he took in the scent of her arousal, but said nothing about it.

A sinister grin spread across the shaman's face as he looked down at the petite elf. "Make sure you gather enough arrows from the armory," he said. "Now's your chance to make them all pay for what they did to you, making you their sex ****. I've already killed the ones directly involved, but now you get to unleash a fury of arrows on their entire main ****," Jabulani said, his tone dark and intense.

"Y-yes..." Aisling replied, her body shaking slightly as she thought of the bandit camp again. The thought caused her heart to skip a beat, and her eyes widened.

"Alright," she said, her voice trembling slightly but growing stronger with each word. "I'll be ready."

"Meet me in the main hall in thirty minutes," the shaman instructed before turning and leaving the elf to her thoughts.

As Jabulani left the room, Aisling stood there, her mind racing. She felt a mixture of fear and anticipation. The opportunity to put an arrow through the heart of her captors and make them pay for what they had done stirred something deep within her. Although she had already been grateful to Jabulani for rescuing her, now she felt she would fall into even greater debt to him.

Quickly, she gathered her thoughts and began to prepare. She grabbed her Elven bow and then dressed in her combat attire. Slinging the bow over her shoulder, she headed for the door with determination in her eyes.

Jabulani sat in the main room, waiting as each relevant party member began to arrive. First were Lord Eldric and Lady Cassandra, who were being served tea by the young maid Filia. Soon after, Seraphina entered, fully armored and ready to depart for the bandit camp to put an end to the threat once and for all.

After another fifteen minutes, Aisling entered the main room, her bow slung over her shoulder and two quivers packed with arrows. She found a spot in the back and sat down in a chair. Adalwolf was the last to enter, striding in with her usual confidence, head held high and hips swaying seductively. She smiled as she took what she believed was her rightful spot, a few steps behind her Alpha.

Jabulani observed the assembled group before he finally addressed them calmly. "I'm now going after the bandit camp and the second anchor; I believe it's been long enough."

Lady Cassandra nodded, her brows furrowing in concern. "So soon? Shouldn't you wait to see if we can gather more adventurers? Or at least use our guards and soldiers?"

Jabulani shook his head. "If I wait any longer, the anchors—if they are connected—might already be communicating. The spellgazer, I mean the beholder, may already be preparing for our attack."

"Isn't that more of a reason to bolster our forces first?" Eldric, the Duke, asked. We must ensure we have enough strength to face whatever lies ahead."

The shaman shook his head. "No, I alone am enough for this attack. I understand our enemy now; I will no longer hold back from then on. The more people we have around me, the higher the risk of casualties."

"Wait a minute... this sounds like you're planning to go alone," Seraphina said, stepping forward.

"I won't be going alone. I'll bring Adalwolf and Aisling so they can get **** and closure. But for the most part, I will do the full-on ****," he replied.

The room fell silent, a multitude of expressions flickering across their faces. Lady Cassandra found herself rubbing her legs together, the thought of Jabulani facing an army of bandits alone stirring a deep, hungry desire within her. She wasn't the only one; every woman in the room who had felt Jabulani's touch now stared at him, their loins burning with desire.

"And how exactly do you expect to do this?" Seraphina questioned. "Yes, you can cast powerful spells, I won't deny that, but when you attacked the bandit post, we had the element of surprise. Even against the hydra, you needed to create an opening. And now you're planning to take on hundreds, if not thousands, of bandits head-on?"

"Simple," Jabulani replied, his eyes beginning to glow. "You bring an army to fight an army. I'm going to summon every elemental I can. Hundreds of elementals will surge the bandit camp: fire, water, air, earth, and every variation you can think of!"

Adalwolf grinned widely, baring her sharp teeth, while her tail wagged excitedly. "An army of elemental spirits? That's why you're the Alpha—no one else could pull off such a feat," she said, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Seraphina took a step back, her expression shocked. "Y-you can summon your own army?"

The rest of the room mirrored her reaction, staring at Jabulani in stunned disbelief.

Lady Cassandra's blue eyes widened at Jabulani's words, her heart racing as she stood from her seat, her dress flowing around her like liquid silk. "Are you sure this is the right course of action?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"It's either this or put out a call for adventurers, sacrificing countless lives that would stand no chance against this threat," the shaman replied.

"That is true," Lord Eldric acknowledged, looking at his wife.

"I'm worried for our family's safety, Eldric. If this goes badly, not just the Winterbourne family will fall, but the thousands that serve under us will fall as well," Cassandra replied.

"You have my word," the shaman vowed, his voice resolute and confident. "You've trusted me until now, so I ask you to continue believing in me."

"Very well," Lady Cassandra said, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks.

"Good luck," Lord Eldric added, nodding to the shaman.

With the final words spoken, Jabulani turned to Adalwolf and Aisling. "A carriage is waiting outside. You have fifteen minutes to gather everything you need; we won't be back for a day or two."

Aisling simply nodded before leaving the room and heading directly to the carriage.

Adalwolf grinned, "Finally, more fun with the Alpha!" The wolfgirl responded as she followed the elf.

Lord Eldric turned to the knight captain. "Seraphina, increase the patrols between the villages, even if it means reducing the protection of the estate."

The captain bowed her head. "Yes, milord." Though she said nothing and maintained a stoic expression, she was clearly displeased at being left out of the attack on the bandit's base, even if she understood the reasoning.

Lord Eldric then turned to his wife.

"Cassandra, you will stay safe and not go anywhere without Seraphina or your guard."

The Duke's wife nodded. "Yes, my dear."

The Duke nodded, returning to his study with a heart weighed by hope and worry. Though much remained to be done, they were finally making progress for the first time in a long while. His next task was to contact the king about the heavy taxes burdening the people of his territory.

Lady Cassandra waited until the others had left before making her way down the hall, her long gown trailing behind her. As she passed a window, a cool breeze caused her to shiver slightly. Her hands moved unconsciously to her breasts, squeezing them together to try and ward off the chill.

"Jabulani," she whispered, her thoughts drifting to the dark-skinned shaman. Envy struck her as she thought of Aisling and Adalwolf accompanying him on this quest. She wished she could join them, but lacking both magical and martial skills, her only role would be to rely on his protection—a thought that made her heart race.

As she approached one of the windows, she paused to gaze out at the garden. Her eyes traced the flowers, but her thoughts drifted back to the shaman and the intense way he would touch her in bed—his commanding touch that left her body warm and crotch wet.

Lady Cassandra bit her lip as her hands roamed her body. Her fingers glided down her neck and across her chest, caressing her ample breasts and erect nipples. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as she lost herself remembering their night together.

She remembered the feel of his rough hands and the way his fingers explored every inch of her body, teasing her and bringing her pleasure like no man had before.

"Jabulani..." she whispered again, her breath quickening as her hands moved lower, tracing the contours of her stomach.

As she slipped a hand beneath her gown, her other hand continued massaging her breast, pinching her nipple. Her fingers moved downward, lightly brushing her inner thighs.

Her thoughts were filled with memories of Jabulani's dark skin contrasting her pale white skin, the way his hands explored her, caressing her every curve and sending shivers of delight throughout her body.

In her mind, she could feel his hand dancing across her skin, his fingers roughly pinching her nipples. He roughly took control over her, pushing her onto her back as his fingers delved deeper into the flesh of her breast.

"Jabulani, please..." she whimpered, her voice echoing through the empty halls.

Lady Cassandra gasped as she pressed her fingers against her wet lips through her gown, the sound of her juices filling the air. She could almost feel his presence, his dark, rich skin pressing against hers as his hand continued to knead her breast.

"Yes," she moaned, her eyes closed tightly as she imagined his hands touching her everywhere.

Lady Cassandra bit her lip, her hips grinding against the wall, trying desperately to find release.

She pictured Jabulani, his eyes piercing hers as his fingers pushed inside her. She remembered the feeling of his thick cock stretching her open, filling her completely.

"Please..." she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper.

She was close. She could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing. She could almost hear the shaman's deep, commanding voice in her ear, telling her she wasn't allowed to cum yet as he pushed her legs even wider as he put his entire body weight into each thrust.

Lady Cassandra arched her back, pressing herself against the wall, **** for friction. Her hips moved rhythmically, seeking release. She could feel her climax approaching, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to push herself over the edge.

"I need...please..." she pleaded again, her voice cracking.

Finally, her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor.

She looked at her hand, and even though she hadn't climaxed, it was drenched. A similar dark stain marred the front of her gown, and she could feel the soaking wetness of her panties.

"Damn it, when did I start getting like this?" she muttered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

She slowly got up and went to her chambers, determined to distract herself by reading one of her favorite books. She quickly changed into a clean gown and sat on her bed, grabbing a book off the nearby shelf. But before she could start reading, a knock came on her bedroom door.

"Milady?" a maid asked through the door.

"Enter," Lady Cassandra said.

Lady Cassandra composed herself, smoothing down her gown and taking a deep breath. She gave the maid a warm, albeit strained, smile.

"Nothing is wrong; I was just... lost in thought," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "What do you need?"

"My apologies for disturbing you, Milady, but this letter has just arrived at the estate," the maid said, handing over an envelope adorned with elegant calligraphy.

Lady Cassandra took the envelope, her fingers lingering on the delicate script. She dismissed the maid with a nod, waiting until the door closed before she carefully broke the seal. The letter was from another noble, Lady Alyssa Kingsley, requesting Lady Cassandra and Lady Victoria to attend her next social gathering.

The last gathering she attended was a direct invitation from the queen and princess themselves—an invitation she and her daughter Victoria could hardly refuse. That event, however, turned out to be fortuitous, leading to the miraculous encounter with Jabulani. Since then, his presence had started to bring stability back to the Winterbourne territory and ignited the fires between her legs.

The lady sighed, glancing down at the letter once more before placing it on her nightstand. She lay back on the bed, her mind wandering to the dark-skinned shaman. Her breath quickened as she recalled his rough hands caressing her bare skin, his thick shaft thrusting into her.

Lady Cassandra squeezed her thighs together, a tingling sensation spreading through her body. She imagined his strong arms wrapped around her, his hands gripping her breasts and roughly pinching her nipples. Her body instinctively started to mimic the movements it would make when he pounded into her.

"Ahh..." she gasped, her hips moving on their own.

Her body jerked, her breasts straining against her gown, yearning to bounce freely as they did when he was there. Her voluptuous figure, which she once viewed with embarrassment and shame, didn't jiggle with the same wild abandon it did when he was physically fucking her. Without his presence, her breasts didn't bounce chaotically and freely, and her ample backside didn't move with the same satisfying ripples from each pounding. Though he never explicitly voiced it, she could tell these were all aspects of her body that he truly relished, and it brought him immense pleasure to watch her in those moments.

Growing frustrated with her inability to recreate the sensations of being fucked by Jabulani, Lady Cassandra glanced back at the invitation. She noticed that the gathering was still a week away—a timeframe ample enough for Jabulani to return. This would allow him to escort her and reassure her husband that his wife and daughter would be safely guarded during the trip. Lady Cassandra resolved that upon Jabulani's return, she would request his company for herself and her daughter. Her husband would be compelled to agree, given that Jabulani's return signified the end of the bandits terrorizing their lands.

Feeling her mood brighten, the lady's lips curved into a confident, contented smile. She picked up the letter and reread it, her thoughts drifting to the array of outfits that would accentuate her figure and seduce the shaman even further.

The carriage ride through the morning forest was serene, starkly contrasting with the earlier excitement. The journey to the bandit camp still stretched ahead, and although the three had been eager to confront the bandits at the estate that morning, the mood had significantly shifted. Jabulani sat calmly, deep in meditation, while Adawolf restlessly fidgeted out of sheer boredom. Meanwhile, Aisling struggled with a tumult of conflicting emotions swirling within her.

The shaman sat cross-legged, his robe pooling around him like a dark, whispering shadow. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and deliberate—a ritual he had practiced for years. But today, he was not communing with the spirits. Instead, he delved deep within his mind, sifting through the potential outcomes of the battle ahead.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, partially exposed beneath his robe, drew Aisling's gaze. She observed the play of muscle and skin with a desire that was still slowly rising inside her. Aisling, seated opposite Jabulani and Adalwolf, quickly turned her gaze to the window, her face flushing a deep red as she caught herself staring at Jabulani with an intensity she hadn't intended. She struggled to refocus her thoughts, but they involuntarily drifted to the unsettling sounds she had heard that night—cries of animalistic lust from the duchess while alone in the shaman's room.

The memory of her own cries of passion, not in the arms of a savior but in the ropes and chains of those she was now journeying to kill, surged forth. This quest was as much a voyage through her fears and traumas as a physical journey. She was haunted by the fear that, if she failed, she might never find solace or safety in the embrace of a man again.

The verdant forest outside offered little comfort to her troubled mind. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs seemed to echo her past traumas, serving as a grim reminder of the peril that lay ahead. The lush greenery, instead of soothing her, deepened the sense of foreboding that enveloped her.

Adalwolf, on the other hand, was a tempest of suppressed agitation. She shifted uncomfortably, her claws tapping impatiently against the wooden floor of the carriage. Her black fur bristled occasionally, a visible sign of her inner turbulence. She needed action—her body craved the thrill of battle, the adrenaline that came with combat or from sex, the pleasure that came from being dominated by a powerful alpha, and she was getting neither, and it was driving her mad.

The tension within the carriage thickened like a storm cloud on the verge of bursting. The forest outside seemed to close around them, its dark green canopy punctuated by the occasional beam of sunlight that filtered through the trees, casting fleeting patterns of light and shadow on the carriage walls.

Jabulani's meditative trance was abruptly shattered by a sudden, sharp clatter. Adalwolf's pent-up frustration reached a boiling point, and with a restless growl, she leaped from her seat. Dropping to her knees in front of Jabulani, she gripped his robes almost frantically, catching Aisling by surprise.

"I-I'm right here!" Aisling almost shouted, her voice trembling with surprise and frustration.

Adalwolf barely glanced in her direction, her expression one of irritation. "Yeah, and what's your point?" she retorted, her tone dripping with indifference as she shot Aisling the most dismissive look she could muster.

He looked down at Adalwolf, kneeling before him, clutching his robes with an almost **** fervor. The shaman's expression remained inscrutable as he lightly sighed.

"Just be quiet about it," he said calmly, causing the wolf girl to break into a cheeky grin. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she deftly freed his member from his robes, licking her lips in anticipation.

With the exception of slurping and sucking sounds, the carriage ride for the next three hours through the forest was quiet until the group finally made it about a mile from their attended destination.

"Alright, we will be walking from him. I don't want anything to give away our element of surprise. I will make the first attack as big as possible, but first, we need to do the last scouting," the shaman said before finding a spot under a tree and sitting down.

Jabulani closed his eyes, extending his senses beyond the physical realm as he entered a deep trance to commune with the spirits of the forest. His dark brown eyes fluttered briefly before he delved into the mystical connection with the nature around them.

Aisling, her face still slightly flushed from earlier, gracefully climbed a nearby tree to scout for any signs of movement. Her keen, elven eyes scanned the horizon, ready to alert the group at the first hint of danger.

Adalwolf, having satisfied some of her pent-up frustration, settled beside her Alpha. She rested her head on his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. Her acute hearing remained vigilant, ensuring no one could approach them unnoticed.

"T...this makes no sense," Jabulani muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I knew it was quiet, maybe even too quiet, but this is just... unnerving. Nowhere around the camp can I sense any animals' presence. No birds, bugs, wolves—nothing within a mile of the bandits' main camp. Could they have hunted everything to the point where the animals' instinct for survival told them to flee?"

Jabulani's eyes opened slowly, his expression troubled. The eerie silence of the forest around the bandit camp was a bad omen, a clear sign that something was deeply wrong.

"I intended to scout the camp through the eyes of an animal again, but I'll have to rely on the wind instead. This method carries a higher risk, as the spellgazer is more likely to detect my presence compared to animal possession."

Jabulani took a deep breath, centering himself as he prepared to cast the wind-borne scouting spell. The air around him began to stir, rustling the leaves overhead as he whispered the ancient incantation. A gentle breeze swirled around him, carrying his consciousness forward, away from his physical form.

As his consciousness moved through the forest with the wind, he saw through the landscape rushing past him in a blur of green and brown as a mile went by within seconds. He approached the bandit camp, willed to the brim with bandits, hundreds if not thousands, as if multiple different groups of bandits came together for a single bandit army.

Various makeshift structures and tents sprawled across the clearing, surrounded by a crude wooden palisade. Fires dotted the camp, casting flickering shadows on the ground, while bandits armed with swords, bows, and other weapons roamed about or huddled in groups. As his consciousness continued to explore, Jabulani moved carefully, ensuring he didn't alter the natural flow of the wind he rode on to avoid arousing suspicion. His primary goal was to ascertain whether there were any additional **** pens or sex **** tents like those at the bandit outpost, as this could complicate their attack plans.

As he moved through the camp, he observed a heavily guarded central tent that seemed to be the focal point of the encampment. Inside, he found precisely what he was searching for; Women—some in chains, others in simple confinement—were being used as sex slaves. The number of captives far exceeded his expectations, and they represented a startling array of races: high elves, wood elves, drow, humans, dwarves, catkin, wolfkin, bunnykin, fairies, pixies, orcs, halflings, trolls, gnomes, tieflings, aasimar, merfolk, kobolds, centaurs, and even elementals. All were either female or took on female forms, being **** by the bandits.

Just as the shaman was preparing to withdraw and resume his scouting, an overwhelming surge of arcane energy suddenly disrupted the wind, causing it to spiral violently. The searing **** of the magical backlash struck him with excruciating intensity, tearing his consciousness from its ethereal form and hurling it back into his physical body. With a guttural cry of agony, Jabulani's eyes flew open as he was violently jolted back to reality, the pain of the **** reentry nearly overwhelming him.

Jabulani gasped, his body convulsing as he returned to the physical world. The searing pain from the magical backlash left him disoriented, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to regain his composure. His dark brown eyes darted around, taking in the concerned faces of Adalwolf and Aisling, who had quickly come to his side.

Floating at the entrance of the **** tent was a colossal, spherical creature, far larger than the average beholder. Its diameter was an imposing ten feet, and its greenish-grey skin was covered in a scaly texture. Each of its numerous eyes stared intently at the spot where Jabulani had been moments before. The creature's deep, resonant laughter filled the air, its tone flat and almost disinterested.

"So, you finally decided to make an appearance," it rumbled, its voice echoing with a chilling detachment. "I was beginning to grow weary of waiting. Show me your next move when you're ready... I'll be here."

With that, the beholder/spellgazer floated away, its massive form retreating into the shadowed depths of the camp.