After almost a week trapped in that cave with the fox bitch and the gray bitch, Mark had come to expect many things out of his new host. What he didn’t thought would happen was a room larger than the whole apartment he grew up in, and a bed that was proportional to a bouncy castle. With less bounce and a lot more silk. And enough pillows he could have hidden under them and likely never come out.

Understandably, the young man was keeping the hell away from the bed and expecting that just about anything was going to jump out of the shadows and drag him towards said silk-covered piece of furniture.

Mark held the small knife they’d left there to be used on the fruit with white knuckles. Little comfort in the face of inhuman monsters, but better than nothing, at least.

His eyes flickered towards the only other living being in the room. The mouse was curled up, knees pressed firmly against her chest, her head resting between her knees, and facing the wall. Noah had not moved from that spot since they’d dropped them there. As far as Mark was concerned, she was just as likely an enemy as whatever else might enter the room, but so far she’d done her best to avoid even giving hints at existing at all.

As soon as the door opened, Mark immediately shifted his concerns.

The woman that had just entered was far FAR worse than everything else he could have faced. With coal black skin that seemed to absorb light, and a presence that made the air around her buzz, the maiden had a soft smile as she stepped through, the door closing behind her.

The human couldn’t quite put it into words, but it felt as if the very air around her was threatening his very existence.

“Mark,” she greeted, with a slight bow of her head, beady, glassy white eyes piercing into him. She turned towards the only table in the room, approaching and taking the nearest chair. She gestured for the chair opposite to herself, the piece of furniture moving itself with a slight thud. “Please, join me.”

Did he have a choice? With a frown, Mark approached the table, not letting go of the knife in his pocket. Carefully he observed the maiden’s features- soft round cheeks and sharp long ears, silky white hair, and those eyes that spoke of her being far, far older than anything else about her might have suggested.

With a slight nod, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers. The door to the room opened again. And in came a woman.

A tall woman, tall enough she had to slightly crouch under the door, almost three meters tall. The only thing she carried was a silver platter with two cups. And that was the sole article on her person, for she wore not a shred of clothing either.

Mark’s eyes widened as he looked at the exotic woman. Her skin was a dark gray that had hints of purple delineating her arms and thighs in ways that hinted at the coloration being the equivalent of a tan. Her body was slim but well built, clearly an athlete, judging by the scars on her arms, a warrior. The woman’s eyes were a deep green, her statuesque features frozen into a serious expression, a single piercing on her lower pale blue lip.

The human’s eyes wandered towards the curves in the figure. There were few to be had, but her breasts were large and her hips powerful. Though the way she moved had little sexuality about it, it was as if she commanded respect by force of will alone, a commander that cared nothing at all for the lack of clothing.

“Let me present my daughter,” the old woman spoke with a slight nod. “Embla, please greet our very important guest.”

The woman nodded, gingerly placing the tray on the table before turning towards Mark. His hand gripped the knife more tightly. There was a split second as their eyes met; something flickered in those pale green irises, something he couldn’t recognize. And then she lowered herself to a knee, bowing her head. “I greet you, sir,” she said, placing both hands on the floor, and nearly pressing her forehead to the floor. The maiden’s white hair tumbled down and pooled around her naked feet, and he realized her neck was adorned by no collar. In its place was a pale band of discoloration that told him its presence having been there only until very recently.

“Please stay like that, Embla,” the other spoke, turning to Mark. “You may use her as a foothold, if you wish. You will find none here will attempt to stand above you.”

The human hesitated, seeing Embla’s powerful shoulders tense, but the tall woman did not move an inch from her half-kneeling position. His throat tightened, taking a moment to look at that pale grey skin, before he turned back to the true threat in the room. “What do you want?”

The question, somehow, amused the old woman. She chuckled lightly, as if having been reminded of some inside joke Mark wasn’t aware of. “For you to stay, willingly.”

That’s it? Mark frowned; something didn’t make sense. “Why?”

“Because you are the first pure human to walk these lands in over four hundred years.” The woman tilted her head. “And with your help, we can achieve many many things.”

A tiny squeak from the back of the room made Mark glance at Noah. The mousy maiden was looking at him with wide eyes, blinking rapidly in surprise.

“I don’t care what you want.” The human turned back to the old woman, refocusing himself.

“And I don’t see why you should.” She was nonplussed by his statement. “You get what you want, and we get what we want. Embla could very well be the first thing we give you.”

“Your own daughter.” Mark’s neck tensed, lips thinning, his brows furrowed.

“Such is the importance of our cause,” she spoke with smooth control, but with an urgent edge to it. “We do not expect your belief or loyalty, only your aid.”

He shifted further away from Embla, the scowl leveled towards the yet to be named woman that sat before him. There was a knot tensing in the back of his neck. She’d sell-out family just like that? Anger started to boil within him. “And what would that imply?”

“You only need to bond some maidens, break their feral state. We would take care of the rest.”

Mark’s grip on the knife tightened. “And in exchange, you would throw away your own daughter.”

The woman with darkness for skin shifted, showing a hint of discomfort, the tingling force she exerted in the room around her faltering ever so slightly. “She does this willingly. There are no slaves here. None are forced to do something they do not wish for.”

“She speaks only truth,” Embla spoke up, head still lowered. “For the sake of my sister’s freedom, I would gladly give my own.”

Mark snarled, jaw clenching shut. “I’m not interested in helping.”

A deathly silence followed, and the nervousness and apprehension from the dark woman vanished. “… I suggest you reconsider.” She stated with a forced calmness.

“I won’t change my mind.”

“I see.” Her own brows lowered slightly, her expression reflecting Mark’s own for only a moment. “I would have preferred to do this peacefully. Embla? Be gentle.”

The woman stood so fast, Mark barely had the time to pull out the knife. He aimed to cut her hand to get some distance. And the end result was that the knife bounced off of her flesh as if it were hardened leather, her palm wrapped around both the knife and his palm. Her naked form moved with an unerring slowness, twisting Mark’s armed hand behind his back, the other moving to pin his head against the table. The force her hands exerted onto his body was inexorable, unstoppable, and impossible to resist.

“I fucking knew you bitches were too good to be true,” Mark snarled, slamming his free hand against the table, a gesture both Embla and the black woman cared little for.

“Such is life, sometimes.” The older woman swiped at the table, knocking over the wooden platters occupying it. She reached with her thumb and bit it, drawing crimson blood. “Do you know what are the true requirements to form a bond, Mark?” With the red-stained finger, she began drawing a circle on the wooden surface. “One side must feel a distinct and clear emotion for the other, and the other has to accept it. This does not care for the direction of the emotions.” A slight pause. “Your anger for the fox and her acceptance of that hatred are what forms your bond to her. Quite a twisted little thing if I do say so myself.” The circle began to glow as the woman continued drawing upon it. “Humans are very easy to influence in that regard. I’m sure Embla will be more than happy to accept your feelings.”

With the increasing glow, Mark could feel a tingling that was seeping into his body, a familiar heat that was suffusing into his body like warm oil. He knew where this was going and wasn’t about to lie down and take it.

“Fuck you.”

He snarled, moving his free hand from attempting to remove the massive woman’s grasp on his head towards the glowing blood. The gesture was fast, a simple smear; and, apparently, it had not been expected from either side, because there was a brief moment of panic in the dark woman’s eyes.

Then there was a glow from the spot right above the glowing circle, a light that exploded outwards.

And Mark felt his whole body shudder. The heat had turned into an inferno that made everything into an unfocused blur. Dimly, he realized he’d been let go, tumbling backwards and to the floor.

Embla’s scream made him shake his head, fighting to clear his thoughts. The woman had whipped around, hand lashing at a gray blur as blood oozed out of a puncture on her bicep.

It took Mark a moment to find the strength in his legs, standing up and leaning against the wall. Between him and a scowling Embla was Noah. The diminutive mouse’s lower jaw was stained with blood. In front of both of them, Embla stood, flustered, breathing hard. Her bicep stopped bleeding within the next second, the wound slowly vanishing before their very eyes, the blood drying and flaking off.

Mark expected her to be angry, but there was only barely frustration.

But neither Embla nor Noah were really Mark’s concern. The back of his mind screamed for him to run, and it was purely and exclusively due to the singular entity that was still on the floor.

The black-skinned woman had been sprawled, her feeble thin body a tangle of long limbs. She was prone and fighting to stand; the very air around her crackled and twisted as power was accumulating quickly. And everything inside Mark told him he did not want to find out what was about to happen.

It all came to a sudden halt when there was an urgent knock at the door.

Everyone froze, turning to look at the lonely figure that peeked into the room. The intruding maiden grew pale as several sets of eyes glared her way.

“My Ladyship?”

“This is not the time,” the dark woman replied, standing up, her hands glowing with power.

“Our scouts have spotted a feral rush coming our way.” The woman coughed. “I… we deemed it best to inform you about it since the magical defenses...”

And just like that, the floating swirling energies were gone.

“I will handle it.” She looked over her shoulder. “Embla, gather your forces.” A pause as she turned to focus on Mark, milky white eyes flickering with power. “The human can wait until after we’ve dealt with this… inconvenience.”

There were no more words, no more comments or gestures. The tall, athletic woman just turned to leave without a second glance.

The door closed, and Mark felt his legs give out.

“We need to get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, shoulder slumping as she looked over her shoulder at him and sighed. “Or die trying.”