Possessing Andley Part 1

Chapter 3 continued

As Andley slept I felt myself stretching out of her mind like a shadow creeping across the room as the sun fades from a window. Waking, I finally merged with the darkness surrounding us, to mingle with the shadows cast by the blue light of the moon. As I rose our body shifted into my own form. I dropped my body to the floor and moved quietly on all fours, creeping to the curtained doorway listening for the vital signs of the the others. By the low rhythmic sway of their bodies I could hear they were all asleep save for the slaves far away, at the front of the carriage.
I krept the though the doorway still holding myself low, my flat belly nearly dragging on the hard wood like a serpent. As I passed through I used the clawed fingers on my wing to pull the curtain closed and then pulled myself in larger strides across the room. Still using my wings like spider's legs, carefully not leaving claw marks in the soft wooden panels, I pulled myself up the wall to the window and slipped through.
The night was crisp as the breeze hummed through the quills that hung down my back like hair. The small down feathers on my breast puffed out slightly as goosebumps rose hardening my exposed nipples. Standing there drinking in the night I raised up my wings and let the air flow around them using the force to hold me in place for a moment before finally allowing the air current to lift me away from the cumbersome earth.
With one strong downward pull I rose higher than the trees looming on either side of the wide stone path. Using the canopy to cover myself I flew ahead of the caravan. The stars were on full naked display tonight yet the moon covered herself so only her sly smile could be seen. Her light gleamed along my ivory feathers as the cool wind streaked through the silver fur adorning my lower body.
I had felt so restless in that wooden cave and I wasn't sure if I needed to hunt, fuck or fly. Right now I felt at peace so I thought I would just glide on the currents tonight. I was nearly drowsing when I happened to glance down and saw the heat marks of small shapes lined at regular intervals throughout the trees, skirting the road. I dipped down lower to see what was giving of the heat signatures and was pleased to see they were wolves. Rathon's pack was steadily lining the path for miles ahead of the caravan. I looked back and saw several others moving swiftly from the back of the line making their way to the head moving the pack forward one Wolf at a time. Apparently they intended to follow Andley the whole way to the edge of the forest. I wondered if they would embark all the way to the city walls.
I should have known Rathon would not let her go without holding on in some way or another. I imagined he was even now seeking a way Into the castle itself. I dove silently into the canopy and lighted on a high tree branch. Rathon's wolves were always on guard, I knew this one would pick up my scent in short order. I keeped to the far side of the tree trunk and dug my claws in, tucking myself neatly behind it. I have always enjoyed watching the wolves. their controlled calculating wildness always intrigued. They stood perfectly still watching and waiting until the command to attack came. They moved together as one body, it was as though they were telepathic with eachother. But I knew it was much more impressive than such a thing as that.
Their maneuvers were so well rehearsed and their understanding of the mission was so complete in each one of them, that they knew how to act moment to moment simply based on their mission and knew what the others would also do. Rathon told them to follow the caravan and to keep watch over Andley, so this was the natural way to carry out those orders. If Rathon told them to tear she carriage apart they would do that with such seamless ferocity, Prince Maston would think a storm had ripped though and not a word would have to pass between them to get it done.
I heard a low rumbling move like gravel though his chest of the wolf below me as he crouched low to the ground. He had picked up my presence before my scent. The fur on the back of his neck rose and trailed in a hard line along his spine. I saw his ear tilt in my direction as he lifted his nose to the air. They always react this way when my presence becomes known to them. It is what makes me certain that I carry no trace of Andley while I am controlling our mind and body. The feeling towards me must be the closest to fear Rathon's brave wolves ever get. They know a predator when it stalks them.
I tried once to approach a young warrior on sentry, similar to how this wolf was now. I had taken up a spot in a tree, upwind from him. As he caught my scent, it was as though the air were filled with the aura of a lightning strike. He'd raised his face to the treetops, sniffing rapidly while his fur lifted, like static along his back. He snarled and crouched low, ready to spring.
I had called out to him, saying I would do no harm, that I only wanted to meet him. I dropped to the earth landing several feet in front of him, so he would not feel crowded or under attack. Before I could utter another word, the wolf was upon me, tearing at my throat. I have taken many lives, warriors, wild ones and those in between, for equally varying reasons. I have no qualms about that, but I would never seek to kill one of Rathon's wolves.
I dug my claws deep in between his ribs and crushed them with my hands. But still the wolf fought, straining to rip my throat out and end me alongside him. I kept squeezing his muscular body and ravaged him with the claws on my feet and wings, tearing him nearly to ribbons until he weakened and began shifting back into a man. He held my neck in his blunt teeth, still trying to kill me until the moment he finally died. Looking upon him, torn to shreds, it was the only time I felt bad about killing.
When they found the body of their fallen wolf it caused such an intense ruckus across the forest. Not only was Rathon unafraid of the beast capable of what I'd done, he was furious. So much so that he ordered his pack out into the night for months seeking me. Andley was most distressed, she'd been forbidden from moving about the forest without a guard and Rathon's wrath had terrified her. His rage is never expressed outwardly, in yelling and thrashing around like other men. No, his rage narrows into a singular point like the end of a spear. He plots, he drives, he hunts. Anything he tells his wolves to kill becomes a fleeing rabbit. Anything other than me that is.
I had considered killing his pack when he sent them out, if not simply to convince him to hide rather than to hunt. Such a thing would have restricted me more though, what was I going to do? kill the whole pack? I thought of killing Rathon, which would have essentially solved my problem at the time. But I doubted Andley would be of much use if Rathon was suddenly violently murdered. It is also unfortunate that whatever Andley loves, I love too in some vague way.
No, I waited until the nightly hunts could not be sustained. They have standing orders to kill me on sight or scent. Although my scent does not linger, there was no way for them to know what the creature who murdered their comrade could look or smell like, they knew nonetheless. They just know. Every time they catch my scent some primal shared knowledge tells them to kill whatever creature it is coming from. If Rathon only knew he had ordered his wolves to kill his own love.