She's taken him to her lair.

Air.

Sweet, blessed, air.

Coughing, Wiglaf greedily gulped down great big breaths of air. In a panic, his head was on a swivel, taking in where he was, survival instincts kicking in.

The first thing he noticed was light. Wherever he was, it wasn't dark, despite being inside what looked to be a hollowed-out root ball of an absolutely gargantuan tree. The earthen walls looked to be rubbed smooth, and if he squinted, he could see many tiny holes all over them, presumably to allow for air to move in and out. By the far wall, he saw something akin to a nest, made out of a large pile of animal furs, kept in one spot by large logs. In the corner, he spotted a large pile of discarded bones, picked clean. Next to it, he saw the source of this light, a small but serviceable fire, burning low in a ring of stones, giving off a faint light, and a scant amount of heat, with a small pile of twigs and sticks nearby. In the wall above it was a large hole, roughly the size of a fist, presumably a chimney, so that the smoke could escape.

For what it was, as caves go, it was much cozier and more welcoming than the previous cave.

Shaking some water off his face, he tried to move over to the fire to give it some fuel but realized that he couldn't move. Looking around, he discovered that he was being carried in the creature's mate's arms, much like how he carried his wife into their new home on their wedding night, as she strode towards her nest. His pride forced him to try and squirm free, but her grip was too strong. He needn't have bothered though, because as she walked, either at her command or on their own volition, a few tendrils of her tentacles slithered towards the fire. With amazing dexterity and precision, they quickly snapped up and fed fresh twigs to the fire, giving it more life, illuminating the lair even more.

Kneeling at the edge of her nest, the creature's mate put him down gently upon it. He tried to sit up, but quick as whips, he was pinned down on his back by tentacles latching onto his wrists and ankles. "Where have you taken me?" he snarled, looking up at her.

Her expression was soft, almost hurt. "Home," she said, her voice quivering quietly, as if she was on the edge of tears. "You are finally home."

He could only narrow his eyes in confusion. "What?"

Shuffling in even closer, the creature's mate brushed his cheek softly with the back of her hand. "I have missed you, my love," she purred. "It is good to see you again." Her sudden shift in temperament and declaration of love made Wiglaf's skin crawl, and a sting of fear prompted him to shift away from her.

A flick of a wrist and a sharp hiss prevented any more attempts at movements. Looking into the pair of dark pools she had for eyes, he could see that, to her, the person in front of her was and also was not her dead beloved. And for as long as he let her have her delusions, she wouldn't hurt him.

Her hand and eyes trailed down his body. "So thin, so small," she murmured, her clawed fingertips tracing along his sternum, until it reached his stomach. "You have not eaten," she gasped, her eyes going wide, before a sick smile grew on her face. "Of course you haven't," she laughed, "you said that you would not eat anything that I did not make you. Do not worry. You can eat your fill again."

Her hand began moving down once more, and a nervous chill ran up Wiglaf's spine, seeing those sharp claws travel towards his groin. When the base of her hand touched his flaccid cock, they both froze. Their eyes met, and they held each other's gaze for a long moment. She was the first to break, and she slowly turned her head towards it.