20. Predators.

ENTIN

CHAPTER 20

The Great Fire blazed hotter and brighter than any Entin had seen. Harlak stood before it, bare-chested and wearing the skull of a horned mountain ox on his head. His headdress was ornamented with elaborate feathers and covered by strings of dangerous teeth and claws. The skulls and bones of other game and predators were arranged in an intricate design on the ground around him, spiraling out in a fractal pattern. A handprint painted with blood adorned each of his titanic pectorals. The scene looked like a shrine to death itself. And Entin hated everything about it. Cascade was right: Harlak was a demon.

One by one, he watched the trainees as they approached the chief. Each of them drew a fragment of bone from a vast leather satchel at his feet. Harlak called out their Journey as they did so. The tension in the air was palpable, and some seemed barely able to handle it. One woman and her trainer began to wail inconsolably when she withdrew an enormous paw. Harlak sneered at her.

"Bear," he declared.

"Glad that one is out of the way," Cascade whispered.

But all Entin could wonder was what other monstrous possibilities remained within. It went on like that until it inevitably came to Entin and his group. Aiel was the first to be called forward, and to his relief, she pulled a beaver's tooth from the bag.

"Shame. I'd have liked to see you pick something more exciting," Harlak said grimly.

She returned to their group with a grin, pleased that she'd dodged an animal that posed much of a threat to a discerning hunter such as herself. That said, Entin knew that some of the larger specimens reached nearly double the weight of a grown man. Under the right conditions, even an angry beaver could still inflict a mortal wound with its powerful tail or finger-length teeth. Nature was a brutal affair—and as he'd learned with the stag, it was not to be underestimated.

The gingers went next. Dire wolves, both of them. T'reer and Sivek shifted uneasily as the four huddled to discuss their misfortune. And then, at long last, it came to Entin. He was the final trainee to begin his Journey.

"Ah, yes. The worm. Come. Let's see what beast will have the misfortune of eating you," Harlak said.

Entin approached the Great Fire. As he drew near, the cruelty in Harlak's eyes caused him to shiver despite the heat of the flames. Harlak held out the giant bag, and Entin reached inside and felt around. He'd assumed it would be easy to tell one type of animal from the next. But it was far from. Some fragments were large, others small, some bone, others fur. After a while, he found it nearly impossible to know with any certainty what nightmare any of it belonged to.

"Hurry up, worm," Harlak jabbed.

Entin panicked. Then he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and withdrew the next bone he touched.

Harlak's booming laughter was all he needed to hear to know he'd made a terrible mistake. Entin opened his eyes and saw that he was holding a fang nearly the length of his hand.

"Sabertooth!" Harlak roared.

Entin looked helplessly at Cascade, knowing he'd likely just doomed them. Of all the earth's animals, it was common knowledge that sabertooths were by far the most dangerous. No one from Summerhome ever dared hunt one, and if there was a sighting on a particular trail during a season, his people would place a totem warning others of their presence. They were the deadliest thing that existed. And now he was going to be forced to hunt one.

"I'll see you in hell, worm." Harlak grinned.

Entin stared dumbly at the fang, unable to fathom what it would feel like when the beast bit into him with a complete set of teeth just as deadly. He returned to Cascade, who leaned in and whispered, "Come. Ignore him. We will figure this out."

But Entin hardly thought that would be possible. Cascade handed him his spear and the pair joined the others outside Main Cave.

Aiel and T'reer had decided to team up with Sivek and the others. Entin had noticed how her smile brightened when T'reer was nearby, and he felt he was observing the blossoming of a romance that neither could yet fully acknowledge to themselves. The gingers were milling about nervously, speaking frantically in their alternate tongue that Entin had difficulty deciphering.

"Well, we're all good and fucked, aren't we?" Sivek said.

He made a hole with the fingers of one hand and then rudely prodded it with the forefinger of his other.

"Sivek, you might be the best proof that the gods don't exist," T'reer replied sourly.

Sivek stopped fucking his hand but couldn't seem to stop himself from giggling nervously in the tense silence that followed. The predators they had been tasked with hunting were inescapable worries now.

"Good luck on your Journey. May the spirits guide your spears," Cascade said.

"You as well, Cascade. A sabertooth… by the ancestors. No one has drawn one of those in years. Though, if what Entin said about the gods is true, perhaps all this isn't as doomed as it seems," T'reer said.

Entin palmed the tooth disquietedly.

"Good luck, Entin. You have always been family to me. I will see you when we're done with this. Promise me," Aiel said.

She gripped him by the shoulders and stared at him imploringly.

"I promise," Entin lied.

She kissed him on the cheek.

"Remember to hold your spear like I showed you. And really follow through with your shoulder. I believe in you, brother," T'reer said.

He clasped Entin by the elbow and drew him in for an unexpected hug. A warmth spread through him. At that moment, Entin felt that he belonged more than he ever had before. It was nearly enough to make him forget the ominous fang in his hand, but not quite.

"I will do my best," he said.

He was grateful for the encouragement. But he wasn't sure it was warranted. As T'reer spoke, Entin realized he'd been holding his spear incorrectly this entire interaction. He tried subtly shifting his grip without drawing too much attention to his inadequacy.

"Right. Just a beaver, a couple of dire wolves, and a big, grumpy kitty. What could go wrong?" Sivek asked.

In time, they'd discover that the answer to that question was darker and more twisted than any of them imagined. But for now, the group said their goodbyes and set out on their respective Journeys.

"You know, you didn't have to grab the biggest tooth in the bag," Cascade said.

They'd climbed to the alpine ridge that paralleled the valley below some hours ago. The prominence they traversed was rocky, exposed, and nearly devoid of plants. The wind had begun to howl near midday, and it was hard for Entin to hear Cascade's voice over it.

"What happens if we don't find one?" Entin asked.

"That's not an option," Cascade replied.

The plan had been to scour the rocky outcrops that littered the ridge for a den. They'd even found signs of one, though it was empty and seemed long abandoned. Entin palmed the fang, unsure how he was meant to take down a sabertooth when he'd nearly died hunting the stag.

Entin gripped his spear, trying to remember the form T'reer had shown him. His legs ached, but his feet were surprisingly comfortable in the moccasins Cascade had made for him. He looked at them appreciatively and felt a glimmer of something he couldn't quite put his finger on. The feeling caused him to turn, though—and as he did, Cascade blundered right into him.

They'd been walking relatively fast, and the momentum sent them crashing clumsily to the ground. Entin felt a searing pain in his elbow where it struck a rock. His flesh was torn open in a jagged, painful cut.

"Ooomph," he moaned.

Cascade took a moment to right himself, then noticed the cut on Entin's elbow.

"You're hurt! I'm so sorry. I should have been paying more attention. Are you alright?"

His eyes were alight with worry, and his handsome face filled with concern. Entin looked to his elbow, then back to Cascade.

"I'm… I…" he stammered.

But the words wouldn't come. His focus felt split, distorted by the visceral feeling of pain in his arm and the yearning, gnawing need in his heart. He'd never experienced this before—never felt so compelled to be truly close. It was dizzying. He realized that his mouth was still moving but making no sound.

"I think I love you," Entin admitted.

Cascade propped himself up on his elbow and peered into Entin's eyes. The silence, coupled with his searching gaze, had Entin wishing he could take the words back, or go back in time and unspeak them. He felt his face flush with embarrassment, and the vulnerability of his admission made him feel like a fool. But then, inextricably, Cascade closed the small distance between them. Gently, he pulled off his leathers and laid them on the ground. Then, with his gentle, calloused hands, he freed Entin of his. Entin regarded their joint nakedness with equal parts arousal and confusion. He doubted anyone else would bring their Journey up to the ridge as they had, but the worry and thrill of being naked out in the open caused his heart to race and his cock to ache.

Cascade heaved himself on top of him and kissed him deeply. His tongue probed into Entin's mouth. The intrusion and the feeling of Cascade's muscular torso pressing into Entin's made him gasp. Then he felt Cascade's cock against his own. It was thick, and hot, and huge. The weight of it, coupled with the heat, caused Entin to let out a shameless and lust-filled moan.

"You like that?" Cascade murmured.

He pressed himself into Entin, and the feeling of being eclipsed by his enormity made Entin's breathing jagged. Cascade thrust the length of himself up and down Entin's shaft, dragging his heavy, smooth balls along his length. He kissed him along the soft of his neck, caressing him, sucking, licking, biting… and the sensations were overwhelming. Entin felt swept away by it. It was like a bonfire had been lit inside of him, and every part of him had begun to catch fire all at once. Entin found he was thrusting into Cascade, and he realized suddenly that he desperately wanted—no, needed—them to be one.

"Take me," Entin gasped.

Cascade went still above him, but Entin felt the great mass of his cock swell at his words.

"Are you sure?" Cascade whispered.

"Yes," Entin begged.

And with that, Cascade sat up and retrieved a small clay jar from the satchel he'd brought with them. Entin watched, mesmerized, as he opened it. Ivory-white tallow filled the vessel. Cascade took a swipe of it, then applied a generous dab of it to his monumental cock. Then, to Entin's surprise, he took a second dab and looked at him sheepishly.

"I think you'll need a bit of this… well, there…" He indicated.

Entin looked at the tallow and then at Cascade's now-glistening manhood—and the yearning he felt to be entered did the rest. He got onto his hands and knees and presented Cascade with ultimate vulnerability. There was a short delay, and then he felt Cascade's finger brush against his opening.

The touch almost made him laugh. It felt foreign but somehow freeing to allow another access to him this way. Cascade kissed his shoulder and the back of his neck, then applied a second dab of the tallow to his hole. This time, he drove his finger into Entin slightly. It was warm, and the tallow made the entry smooth. Entin grunted at the sensation of being entered, and he watched as his cock began to drip a stream of precum onto the leathers beneath him.

Cascade thrust his finger deeper into Entin, and then a second digit joined the first. Entin moaned as he felt himself being spread. The sensation was nearly too much already. But then, Cascade forced himself deeper and then deeper still. Entin threw his head back as Cascade finally inserted the entire length of his fingers inside of him. Entin took a breath and then another, and at last, he felt himself relax.

"I think you're ready," Cascade growled into his ear.

And then the fingers were gone—and Entin felt an odd, hollow void at their sudden absence. But he had little time to reflect on that. The head of Cascade's cock pressed against his opening. It felt nothing like the fingers, and Entin instinctively pushed against its warmth.

At first, it seemed an impossibility that he might actually fit Cascade inside of him. But the immense pressure at his opening mounted, and he felt Cascade's hand reach under him and grab him by the cock. The sudden pleasure at being enveloped alongside his need to be filled was enough for him to open himself.

Cascade entered him.

At first, Entin couldn't comprehend why he wanted this. Cascade was huge—and his enormous manhood felt like a white-hot spear driving itself deeper and deeper until…

"By the gods…" Entin gasped.

It was all he could do not to collapse onto the leather. He was completely skewered, and he wondered dumbly if he'd ever be able to separate himself from this moment. But then, miraculously, the ungodly intrusion into his body slowly morphed from pain to indescribable pleasure. It felt as though his cock were being fucked from the inside out, and he watched it with stupid fascination as it throbbed wildly between his legs with invisible stimulation. He'd never been this hard in his life, and the fountain of precum leaking from him now dribbled into a sticky pool on the ground beneath his throbbing member.

Cascade began to fuck him.

Entin screamed in pleasure. The sound of their ensuing rutting would be unmistakable to anyone within miles of that mountaintop. They were animals—and so they fucked like animals. It was sweaty and wild, and the threshold of pleasure and pain was a constant dance as Cascade fucked him this way and then that.

Eventually, Entin ended up on his back, enjoying the view as Cascade slipped in and out of him rapidly. Each time his cock left, Entin wished more desperately for its return, and in the moments he filled him, Entin felt at one with the universe.

Cascade leaned over him, panting, his hair and torso dripping with sweat, and shoved himself as deep into Entin as his size allowed.

"Can I fill you with my seed?" Cascade huffed.

But Entin didn't have a chance to answer. The sight of the handsome, muscular man above him and the feeling of his cock engorged inside of him was as close to pure joy as Entin had ever experienced. Without even touching himself, Entin's cock began to erupt in a geyser of cum. Cascade grinned at the sight of it and began to pump so rapidly that the effort shoved Entin halfway off the leathers. The sensation of being ravaged was enough to keep Entin's orgasm coming far longer than usual—and eventually, with a heave, Cascade grew rigid, let out a feral growl, and spent himself inside of him.

As Entin's thoughts reconsolidated, he realized something terrible. The growl hadn't come from Cascade. It had come from behind him.

Entin shoved Cascade off of him and leapt to his feet.

"Hey!" Cascade cried out in offense.

But then he followed Entin's gaze and noticed the sabertooth himself.

The beast was golden, with great zigzagging patterns of black etched across its pelt. Its eyes were cruel, and it flattened its ears against its massive head as it took first one, then another stalking step forward. Its two oversized incisors were readily visible before it opened its mouth to hiss at them.

Hissssssssssssssssssss.

Then it moved toward Cascade.

Entin reacted before his thoughts caught up to what his body was doing. He grabbed their spears and threw himself between the tiger and his lover in a single, fluid motion. He hurled the first spear at it—but the tip didn't connect with the beast's flesh, and it skimmed by impotently without even drawing blood.

The tiger growled, then swiped a mighty paw at Entin, who jumped backward just in time to evade its lethal claws. Then, in a burst of pure panic and madness, he charged and drove his remaining spear straight into its skull. The moments that followed were filled with gore and violence. A fountain of blood erupted from the wound, and a wild commotion set in as the creature began to howl in rage and pain. But the spear tip had been sharp, and Entin's strike had been true. He gripped the haft, then drove in the tip with all his strength. To his surprise, he was met with the horrible yet satisfying crunch of bone beneath its point as he buried it deeper into the predator. It thrashed this way and that, but eventually, it grew still and limp—as Harlak nearly had all those days ago.

It was dead for a long while before Entin released his weapon. It was then that he recognized he'd been screaming—he'd been screaming this entire time. Entin looked down and realized that the warmth he felt splattered across his naked form was the blood of the monster. He was covered in it. The breeze that swept across his body was already causing it to dry in spots.

"Entin," Cascade said quietly.

His gentle voice allowed Entin to reattach to the here and now, though he couldn't look away from what he'd done. He stared down at the corpse of the monster at his feet and then regarded his bloodstained hands with detached fascination. In his life, violence had never been an aspiration. He'd gone far out of his way to avoid it. He realized suddenly he'd done so because he'd hoped there was more to the world than this—he'd believed that compassion and tenderness were better survival strategies than violence and force. But what if they weren't?

The god's words echoed in his mind: Harlak must be destroyed. And then, all at once, he simply knew—he realized he'd always known, though he'd tried his hardest not to listen to his intuition. But now it was inescapable; now, it was real. For the first time in his life, Entin understood precisely what he must do next. He wasn't prey anymore, and he vowed that he never would be again. He had become the thing he'd feared: he was a predator.

As if to confirm his notion, at that moment, across the vast valley of Mountainhome, the Wolves began to howl.