And he was on the floor and changing and all I could think was, I have become this unknown thing, and all I could feel was that I wished for more--
Wait. I think I need to back up again.
The days when the half-demon are gone from Lumindor, and I am in it, I admit, I get bored. I wander the woods, looking for capable diversions. Yesterday, I spent some merry hours wandering a nearly empty woodlands, practicing slashes with my sword. I think I'm getting quite good, but I haven't pitted myself in combat with anyone as of yet. And I met a very tall, very somber wandering elf, and guided him about, showing him beauties and dangers. My one mistake was taking him into the sithen--my Queen felt him enter, and came to her throne room to...talk.
But an accord was reached; as a wandering fey, he is welcome any time; and should he choose the Winter Court over the forest elves' arboreal dwellings, we will be glad of him indeed. And I guided him out of the sithen once more.
As I took him out, I met the young Hunter in the woods again. So young, I thought, so inexperienced....he might be a handy diversion indeed. His leathers were still damp from jumping in the bathing pool yesterday, trying to save a fellow resident of the wilds. I invited him back to my tree, and set about to entice the lad.
It wasn't difficult, though he was nervous. I was sincere in my offer of aid--I helped him lay his leathers out over my gargantuan chair, and enspelled them with small magics to dry a bit quicker than they would otherwise. It raised the temperature in my tree by a few degrees, and without much more effort, I had him down on pillows, curled against him and purring, my then-red fur sharp contrast to his darkly tanned skin.
All was going well until the monk bespoke me, mentally. He wished to come by and greet me, and perhaps...talk. I told him I was occupied, and he approached my tree, the echo of laughter in my head. He breathed out, and suddenly, my nerves were alight, my breath was catching, I was pushing the lad to the bed and--
I asked him what he'd done. He said, a small breath of incubi essence, nothing more, sent to me. I told him I'd never heard of such a thing before, and he sent me another..."gift", he said, before departing. The second offering swirled his scent and hints of his arousal around me, making me shudder against the human lad, moaning of a sudden, writhing on the Hunter and...growing so...hungry.
This was my error, I think. Trusting another incubus.
I did not think on it at the time, simply...falling on the human and near-devouring his mouth. It did not ease me, and I trailed kisses down his neck, across his chest, up his neck again. I narrowed in where the pulse beat strongest, licking, nipping, and...all thought went sideways.
I tilted my head back, my little fangs sliding into place as always, the tiniest traces of the vampiric spell that went awry. My little hunger, manageable, always, had mysteriously flared, and even knowing I held a Hunter of the fanged in my arms, I still bit. And I drew. And it was glorious, the taste, lovely, only...
I'd bitten him. He yelped, and pulled away from me, staggering from the bed. I licked my lips, turning, wanting to bring him down again, into my arms, onto my fangs, and I felt the first stirrings of internal shock. It was hard to think through the riptide of desire, but...and then I watched him fall. And change.
Where before had been a human lad of some few years, there now lay a black-striped neko, silver-tipped black hair cascading past his shoulders, tail curled around one leg. I'd never seen anything like it. I brought my hand to my lips, touching my fangs, and drew them back with some odd, clear fluid coating them--fluid I'd pumped into the boy, as a full vampire would, fluid from still-pulsing glands at the base of my fangs.
By seven kings and seven holy oaks...what had I done?!?
I am not too proud to say I lost my mind entirely. Throwing clothes on in abandon, I screamed for the First Claw of the neko tribe, and she came. A mage-apprentice overheard the call and followed. I explained that I'd turned a human neko, and the First Claw would not stop laughing. I was going into shock, and still so hungry, and my mind could not deal. The mage-apprentice asked to come up, and I allowed it, telling her how, and opened the door to reveal a great spider, filling half the room when she came in, and all three of us seeing her shrieked.
This did not help my mood, nor my composure. I sank to the floor, shaking, just as my half-demon walked in.
It was merry chaos sorting everything out. The human--now neko--wished to be human again; the King's alchemist, the chief mage of the land, could help, but he was traveling far lands; and the half-demon wondered why the human wished to change back at all.
Then he asked me why this had happened, and I mentioned the monk. And his expression darkened--a feat of skill, considering his skin is near midnight-toned anyway. He turned his one eye remaining to me and...such anger, such hate, as I'd never felt, poured from him--pointed at me. He spun on his heel and left, and I could not stop crying.
Eventually, the mage left to seek out research on the topic; the now-neko boy wandered off to greet the neko tribe; and the poor First Claw, exhausted from laughing so hard, curled up and fell asleep on my great chair.
I wandered out to speak words with the half-demon.
I found him in his chambers, the scent of blood on the air, making me shudder anew. I asked for entry, and got it, and walked in to disarray as I'd never seen it. His bed overturned, blood on his blades, furniture cracked and broken, crockery shattered...and in the midst of all, my demon lover, sitting in the one chair remaining, composed, calm, at rest...still very, very angry.
He spoke me words of choices. He said, if I had truly fallen under the control of the incubus monk, then I had violated our agreement to love only each other. I did not precisely agree, but if I had fallen under his control, I wished my control back. He said...I must choose. I must choose him, and my life now, or the incubus, and my regrets. He said...he would turn his face from me, never speak to me again, never hold me again, if I chose the monk.
I shuddered, hearing the echo of similar words, spoken from another source. This had all happened before. This had all happened before and I was here at the crossroads again. Asked to choose. Asked to say no.
What could I do? I am a creature of pattern. I said no.
And then the demon changed the game. He called to the fledgling within me, in that language I'd never understood from him, only now he asked and I answered--with as little comprehension as I'd had before. For it was not me answering. It was the fledgling demoness within, that the incubus had somehow tapped.
And he would not speak to me, though I stood right there, in his view. He would only speak to her. And when she stopped answering, he stopped speaking to me at all.
I could do no else, I fled his room. I fled to the wilds and the trees I knew. In distress, I wrapped my arms around one and changed to the first form that felt appropriate--pale, so very pale, so cold...spider-branch wings draped in cobwebs...melted pink eyes.
And the hunger began to bite holes in my soul.
I fled back to my tree, shuddering as I remembered the First Claw slept there, trusting me. I turned, and turned, in my room, seeking a way out, and there was none. My demon would not feed me; I did not trust myself to feed from the neko warrior in my chair. I had no other recourse.
I slashed my own arms to the bone, clenching them, watching my life bleed from me, and when my heart began to falter, I dropped to the floor and slept.
It was all I could do.
On the morrow, when I awoke, the First Claw was gone, and I was alone. My arms were healed. I spent some few very directed hours cleansing blood from my rug, and avoiding all other contact.
I do not know what else to do.
I still...do not.