Bree's heart pounded like a drum in her chest as she raced through the sleek, modern halls of the manor. The place was a stark contrast to the ancient castle it once was, with its stone walls replaced by glass and steel. Yet, despite its openness, Luna Aisling was nowhere to be found. Bree's breath came in short gasps, her mind racing with worry. She had to find Alpha Liam and report Aisling's disappearance.
As she turned a corner, she nearly collided with Fenrir, the pack's second-in-command. His presence was usually reassuring, but now it only heightened her anxiety. "Fenrir, I can't find Aisling anywhere," she blurted out, the words tumbling over each other.
Fenrir's eyes narrowed, a deep growl rumbling in his throat. "What do you mean she's missing?" he demanded, his voice a mix of concern and command.
Bree explained, her voice shaking, "I've looked everywhere. She's just… gone."
Fenrir's jaw clenched. "Find something with her scent on it. I'll track her down," he ordered, already moving towards Aisling's room. The snow had started to fall outside, blanketing the world in silence and erasing any tracks she might have left.
Bree hurried to Aisling's room and returned with a nightdress, the fabric light and flimsy. Handing it to Fenrir, she felt her cheeks heat up with a blush. Fenrir, too, seemed momentarily embarrassed, but the urgency of the situation left no room for modesty.
"Alert Liam, but do it discreetly," Fenrir instructed, his voice low. "We don't want to cause a panic."
With the nightdress in hand, Fenrir stepped outside into the cold. He closed his eyes, focusing on the mind link—a private channel of communication among the pack. He reached out to Beta Finn, who responded with surprise.
"Finn, meet me at the compound immediately. Aisling is missing," Fenrir's voice echoed in Finn's mind, the urgency clear even through the mental connection.
Finn's reply was swift, a mix of concern and determination. "I'm on my way. We'll find her, Fenrir. We always do."
As Fenrir set off, following the faint scent clinging to the fabric, the snowfall grew heavier, blanketing the world in white. The manor's modern facade, usually so welcoming, now seemed to loom over him, a silent witness to the night's events.
The search for Aisling would not be easy, but the pack was united in their resolve. They would scour the city, delve into its darkest corners, and confront whatever dangers lay ahead. Because in the end, they were more than just a pack. They were family, bound by blood and loyalty, and they would stop at nothing to bring Aisling home.
Meanwhile, Luna Ingrid, the mastermind behind Aisling's disappearance, watched from a distance. She knew the power Aisling held, even in her unconscious state. After confirming Aisling's identity, Ingrid's boot connected with a thud against her side. She barked orders at her minions, "Take her up to Frost Peak. Let the snow bury her secrets."
When Fenrir reached the mountain's base, he found Aisling's scent leading up into the thinning air. He let out a distressed howl and began the climb, his wolf form braving the cold.
He called out for Aisling, but the mountain was silent. Finn tried to follow but was beaten back by the storm. Fenrir, however, wouldn't give up. His determination was fierce, even as the cold bit at his bones. At last, he spotted a piece of cloth from Aisling's dress, nearly buried in snow. Shifting back to human form, he used his enchanted ring to open a portal to a hidden cabin.
Inside, he lit a fire and carefully removed Aisling's wet clothes, her skin pale and cold. With no other choice, Fenrir stripped down and got into bed with her, wrapping them both in blankets. His body heat slowly brought warmth back to her. After giving her medicinal drinks, he held her close, hoping she would wake.
The cabin, a secret place known only to Fenrir, became their refuge as the storm raged outside. The others, unable to sense them, had to return home, defeated by the blizzard.
When Aisling finally stirred, she felt an unfamiliar pressure against her back, coupled with an overwhelming heat. The lingering effects of the drug that had rendered her unconscious, combined with a fever, made her delirious. She groaned softly, disoriented, and instinctively reached her hand backward to grip the rod that was causing her discomfort, hoping to remove it from her back.
Her fingers brushed against the firm, warm surface, and she gripped it lightly, trying to shift it away. Fenrir, who had been dozing lightly, woke up immediately at her touch. He realized that in her delirium, she had mistaken his body for an inanimate object.
"Aisling," he whispered gently, taking her hand in his. "It's me, Fenrir. I wouldn't do that if I were you." His voice was husky, but he still held her hand, which was grasping the rod. Her fingers could barely circle it.
"But it's making me uncomfortable," she whined, still trying to shift the rod away. However, soon after, Fenrir's words finally reached her understanding. She tried to pull her hand away, but Fenrir did not let her.
"Since you held it, let your hand hold it a bit longer. It's also making me very uncomfortable. After all, you put me in this situation while I tried to save you from being frozen to death. The least you can do is help me ease it," he murmured.
"I... I don't know how," Aisling murmured, blushing furiously. Somehow, she had managed to turn and face him, but her hand was still caged in his while holding him.
Fenrir's gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, seeing the confusion and embarrassment there. "That's alright," he said softly. "I can guide you."
Aisling's heart raced, but she nodded, her blush deepening. She could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was both overwhelming and strangely comforting.
Fenrir's hold on her hand relaxed slightly, but he didn't let go. Instead, he guided her hand gently, showing her how to ease the tension that had built up. Aisling followed his lead, her movements tentative but sincere.
Her hands were soft and delicate, feeling incredible as they slid up and down his rod. He let out a few intimate growls, his body reacting to her touch. He wished more than anything that she was in good health so that he could get lost in her completely, but now he had to settle for this.
"Yes, love, that feels great. Ooh, ooh, I'm close," he said suddenly, hugging her tightly as his release came, smearing his milk all over her stomach.
Aisling was shocked and rigid, her mind struggling to fathom what had just happened. Fenrir was still shaking with the aftermath, but he showered her sweaty head with kisses, trying to reassure her.
"Aisling, thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I needed that, more than you know."
She remained silent, still processing the situation. Fenrir's warmth and the sincerity in his voice slowly began to melt away her shock. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and uncertain.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I just... I got carried away."
After his release and relaxing a bit, Fenrir summoned a bath in his mind and then stood up, carrying a timid Aisling in his arms as if she weighed nothing. He took them into the adjacent bathroom and placed them in a hot tub filled with ethereal scents and herbs. Gently, he used a bath towel to clean her, while her eyes grew as big as saucers.
"It's okay, love. You can trust me," he reassured her, his voice soft and soothing.
As his hand went lower, cleaning her more intimate areas, she clamped her feet together, her heartbeat audible in the quiet room.
"Love, I am not going to make love to you when you are at your weakest," he told her gently. "When I do make love to you, it will be mutual and consensual. For now, let me take care of you, please."
Aisling's fear began to subside, replaced by a growing sense of trust in Fenrir. She nodded slightly, allowing him to continue. His touch was tender, his movements careful and respectful. He focused on ensuring she was clean and comfortable, avoiding any actions that might cause her distress.
The hot water and soothing herbs began to work their magic, relaxing her muscles and calming her mind. Fenrir's presence, his strong and gentle demeanor, provided her with a sense of security she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I just want you to feel safe and cared for," Fenrir murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "You mean everything to me, Aisling."
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
He smiled warmly, continuing to wash her with gentle, circular motions. "There's no need to thank me, love. It's my honor to be here with you."
After the bath, Fenrir wrapped Aisling in a plush, warm towel, carefully drying her off. He then helped her into a soft robe, ensuring she was comfortable and warm. He led her back to the bed, where he had prepared a fresh set of blankets.