Chapter 651: Wild Shape

Mason and Kitya made out like teenagers. Well, except for one of them being naked. But the elf’s hands didn’t move too far down, and he let her guide how far things went.

The answer was ‘not that far’. This was a strange and also kind of sexy experience for a man used to going from one to eleven sexually. But he used his newfound, limited patience, and just tried to enjoy himself.

Kitya had thick, exceptionally kissable lips, and it was clear this wasn’t a common experience for her. She started off unsure and closed lipped. Before long she was locked in and swapping tongues, exploring as she moaned. Every instinct (old and new) had him ready to push, but he held back.

She eventually just lay on top of him looking happy and satisfied. He played with her hair to stop himself from groping her ass.

“Thank you…for letting me…” she met his eyes and shifted against him, eventually glancing down with wide eyes. “Oh. I’m…sorry. About that. Is there…I’m not sure if I’m ready to…”

“Don’t worry.” Mason summoned his Vestments, which didn’t stop the giant bulge or discomfort but at least covered him. “There’s no rush.”

Kitya glanced at the nearby restless eagles as they went out hunting or slept or played around the mountain. She looked out at the beautiful horizon and sighed.

“It’s very romantic. The perfect place, really, to…”

“The right time beats the right place with these things.”

Mason smiled and decided it was time to go, knowing she wasn’t ready. He certainly was. But it was another valuable test of his own will, and he slowly eased the elf to a sit. It didn’t help when she spread her legs around him and sat facing him, arms over his shoulders…

He took another steadying breath, slowing down and just trying to enjoy the moment without…everything else. There was no question at all in his mind that he could pull the stops and seduce her. But she deserved time. More…effort? It wasn’t special for him yet, just another way to slake an endless lust.

“We should go. I’ll take you back to Nassau.”

Kitya struggled to meet his eyes.

“I haven’t….disappointed you? I feel as if I should have…”

He kissed her and smiled.

“You taught me to fly, Kitya. Well, fly properly. Trust me, you’ve done the opposite of disappoint me. We have plenty of time for…other things.”

“Once you’ve saved the world?” She smiled.

“Oh.” He gave her a teasing frown. “That’ll be months. I was thinking next week, maybe.”

Kitya laughed and kissed him again, a little less chastely this time. The fact that she was obviously struggling with her own decision only made it harder. But he persisted.

“Your other concubines won’t be jealous? I don’t think Lady Naya would object, but if she did I couldn’t possibly…”

“She won’t object.”

He lifted the elf and stood, sure he could have done it even without super strength. Something about the tiny, dark elf had him taking more deep breaths as he battled with his engorged libido. All three elves together might be an interesting dynamic…

Kitya was looking somewhere between shy and wishing she’d made different choices, so it was definitely time to go. He walked over to the eagles and bowed his head, wishing them well through One with Nature before turning to ‘Shawk’.

“I’ll be back soon.”

He blinked as he was about to tell the creature they were going to explore, glancing at Wayfinder. How much of the continent had the animal already seen from above?

He closed his way and activated their bond, focusing on his map. The ‘mind meld’ re-activated, and in seconds his mind soared thousands of miles, chewing up the grey of his map in huge swaths.

He opened his eyes and smiled. Yes, finishing his objectives might be a lot faster than he expected. If they split up, just how quickly might he and the eagle finish mapping the rest?

Without another word, he fey stepped with the power of the mountain holding Kitya in his arms, and raced her straight back to Nassau.

**

Once his very useful and tempting beast master was safely home with the other animals, Mason went to fey step back to his new eagle friends.

“Wait.”

Kitya grabbed his arm and glanced around. Seeing no one nearby, she went to her toes and kissed him again.

He smiled against her lips and sunk into it, letting his hands roam a little now that they were safely away from imminent sex. He could tell his small attempt at patience had only made Kitya want him more. So that was something.

“I feel…safer with you now,” she said shyly, touching his arms. “Though I’m still sort of afraid of… the act. I mean you’re so big, and…human. And…” she trailed off and looked ready to hide under a rock. He laughed and held up her chin to meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry, my other elves are handling things just fine. Maybe they can teach you.”

Saying it out loud had him going again, and he took a small step away to cool things down. Kitya’s eyes widened and she gripped his forearm.

“Do you think they might? Oh I’d feel so much more comfortable. If they weren’t…I mean if her ladyship didn’t mind…that is.”

He stared, battling the lust demons. Yeah. It was time to leave. His Cerebus-infused brain was trying to work out where his elven wife and concubine were and how fast he might get to them with Kitya half naked over his shoulder.

“We’ll…talk when I’m back.”

He squeezed her hand and stepped further away, then pretty much jumped straight to his great tree with a single leap. He warped back into the fey, stepping out onto ‘White-top Mountain’ so quickly he’d probably crossed a hundred miles in a minute.

Shawk was waiting, watching him with those wise old golden eyes. Mason was about to try his hybrid form before he felt Streak’s mind practically shouting for attention. He rolled his eyes and summoned the wolf, which immediately scrambled out to the edge of the cliff.

“You can probably use the boots and have a good long jump, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I’m not really here to…”

Streak’s body contorted as the wolf’s front legs spread and sprouted wings. Mason stared in shock as the animal became some version of a wolf-eagle. It took him a minute to remember it had a half wolf, half man form, and was technically a shapeshifter, if you looked at its name in his profile.

Without any hesitation, Streak leapt off the side of the cliff. It took to the sky, with a pretty cheeky feeling aimed right at Mason that might have translated to ‘yeah, what?’

He shook his head and Wild Shaped, shivering as he grew his own wings. As he did he also saw he’d gained a Stag form, and a bear form, with their own hybrids. The idea of finally head butting something into oblivion with real horns instead of his brittle helmet definitely appealed…

And as he came to that realization, he also understood he was no longer limited by his ‘half human’ aspect at all. He could pick and choose. He could combine two animal forms. He could probably combine more than just two, if he focused on different parts and features…

What it all came down to was simple: it was definitely time to play.

But for the exact moment he joined Streak and Shawk in the sky, flapping his new limbs and rising up with a slower but still very satisfying propulsion of winged force. He wheeled and dove, commanding the others through their bond as he turned towards the unexplored areas of the continent.

I want to see everything, he told them. Every piece of land to the edges of every coast. Follow my map. Full speed. Don’t stop except to feed and rest.

The intelligent animals howled and shrieked as they went to obey, and Mason turned for his own section of unexplored grey.

He tested his speed, playing with his density, dropping faster and faster and seeing how and when he could end the dive. He summoned his Claws and slashed at boulders in swooping arcs of death, his arms totally free from his wings.

He laughed and rose again, turning to summon his bow, running a hand over the beautiful elven craftsmanship. He dove again and loosed with Endless Quiver, spraying a hail of arrows at trees and pretend targets as he whipped over the landscape.

His Wild Shape and new, ‘customizable’ hybrid form was everything he could have dreamed. He instead grew his Claws like talons from his feet, still holding his bow. He grew stag horns. He extended his wings, floating himself like a kite as he made the elven bow literally hum with violence.

He finally landed on another cliff, talons gently wrapping around a sturdy tree as he stared out over the forest, heart still pounding. He thought of that infuriating dream in the ‘frozen pool’—the idea that he’d lay down and just die for some deal. It made him shake his head again in disgust. Giving him an impatient need to meet his enemy right then and there and show him it would never happen.

But he breathed, and struggled with patience. He had at least six months. Six months to practice his new forms, to learn new magic with his natural allies and maybe the elves, and see just how much the druid side of him could blast by draining his vast stamina.

Six months to rally every scrap of power on the primal plane, and ready it to protect life itself.