The Fated Cused

Chapter 6

"Are you absolutely certain of that?" asked another voice, deeper and rougher, belonging clearly to a male. "I was under the impression that you priestess types are sworn to chastity. Aren't you forbidden from… indulging in earthly pleasures?"

"I am bound by no laws but my own desires," came the haughty reply, accompanied by the rustle of fabric and the flash of long, straight blonde hair. Anastasia's heart sank as she recognized Mira immediately.

She pressed herself as flat as she possibly could against the trunk of the great tree, praying with every fiber of her being that the tall plants would conceal her completely. She did not dare make a single sound, for she had witnessed firsthand what happened to those foolish enough to cross Mira. The girl possessed a cruel streak a mile wide, and she knew exactly how to make the life of anyone who displeased her a living torment.

Mira was dragging a young man along by the hand—a village boy who was clearly a Werewolf, with shaggy hair that fell untidily over his eyes and prominent, sharp canines that peeked out from beneath his lip. In all honesty, Anastasia did not find him particularly handsome, but then again, she had very little experience in judging the male form.

She was about to receive an education far more graphic and unsettling than anything she had ever read in her books, though she did not know it yet. All she could do now was hold her breath and pray that they would not notice her watching from the darkness.

"Come here," Mira commanded softly, pushing the boy down until he was sitting on the grass. "Lie back and make yourself comfortable. I intend to have my way with you."

She immediately set to work on the laces of his leather trousers, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

"Gods, you're a demanding little thing, aren't you?" he chuckled, though there was an edge of nervousness and excitement in his voice. "You know exactly what you want, don't you?"

"I told you," she replied with a confident toss of her head, sending her shining locks cascading over one shoulder. "I always seize what I desire, and I never take no for an answer. Besides, I am dying to verify if the ancient legends hold any truth."

"What legends are you speaking of now?" he asked, but his question was left hanging in the air because by then, she had undone the fastenings completely. Anastasia had to bite down hard on her lower lip to stop herself from gasping aloud at the sight revealed to her.

It looked strangely like a thick, fleshy, complete with what appeared to be a head and a single eye that emerged as Mira pulled back the loose skin covering it. And as her hand wrapped around it and began to move, it seemed to grow larger and longer right before her very eyes, hardening and throbbing with life in her grasp.

"Ah! Careful there, love!" the young Wolf grunted, his head falling back against the earth. "That is extremely sensitive, you know! You hold my very essence in your hand."

But Mira paid no attention to his warnings, her curiosity fully piqued and satisfied.

"So it is not merely a myth!" she exclaimed in delight, continuing her slow, deliberate movements. "Werewolves truly are gifted with the size and strength of wild beasts! It is magnificent… thick and powerful. Mmm, I can hardly wait to feel this enormous length pushing deep inside me, filling me completely."

Anastasia sat frozen in absolute shock. Even being seen speaking to a male was considered highly improper within the temple walls, let alone witnessing something as scandalous and raw as this.

She had always been taught that men could not be trusted.

That lesson had been drilled into her firmly by Priestess—Sister Zera on the very day Anastasia had first become a woman, when she had been taught reluctantly about the mysteries of life and birth.

"Remember this well, child," Zera had warned her gravely. "Males carry a dangerous thing between their legs, and they will use every trick, lie, and charm imaginable to get it between your own. If you allow them entry, and if that thing spits its venom inside you, the ancient magic will alter you forever. The color of your hair will shift to something dark and tainted. Then the whole world will know you have been defiled, and the Goddess will cast you out of her protection forever. So you must stay far away from them, lest you lose your place here and gain a heavy belly in the bargain!"

Anastasia had taken those words to heart and had avoided every male she had ever seen, whether on her rare trips to the market or within the temple grounds. It did not matter if they were human, Wolf, or any other kind; she wanted nothing to do with any of them. Her greatest desire was to keep her hair color and her body pure, dedicated entirely to the service of the Goddess.

Because if she were ever thrown out of the only home she had ever known, she would have nowhere else to go and nothing left to live for.

The temple was the only world she had ever known, the only sanctuary she had ever loved. Without it, and without the protection of the Priestesses, she would be utterly alone. Having never known her true family or parents, she possessed no roots anywhere else, and she would be forced to wander through a harsh and unforgiving world with nowhere else to turn. That was a fate she dreaded above all else, and she would do anything to avoid it.

But clearly, such fears meant nothing to Mira. She seemed utterly unconcerned with the loss of her innocence or the possibility of being cast out into darkness. In the blink of an eye, the white robes were cast aside, and she lowered herself onto the young man, her body bare and exposed just as it had been on the day she was born.

She was graceful, delicate, and slender—the perfect image of what a Pure-blood Witch was supposed to be—and the male beneath her was so much larger and more powerful in comparison. Anastasia watched with wide eyes, thinking to herself that he must surely be far too big for her to take, judging by the small, pink folds she could see between the girl's legs.

Yet it was immediately obvious that Mira was no stranger to this act; she moved with a confidence and experience that spoke of many such encounters.

"Now listen closely," she instructed him in a tone of absolute authority, her small hand wrapping firmly around the thick, throbbing length of him. She guided the broad, flaring head downwards, rubbing it slowly and deliberately against her own soft flesh, which seemed to darken in color and glisten with moisture the more she touched it.

"You must not release yourself inside me. You mustn't do, for we cannot risk everything."