Chapter 34: Cruel Acts

CLANG!

A sharp, silver-bladed curved scimitar flashed through the smoke, parrying Sato’s obsidian dagger inches above Keith’s throat.

The kinetic force of the parry sent a violent ripple through the air, forcing Sato to leap back several paces. He landed lightly on the scorched earth, scowling as he spun his dagger.

"Who the hell—" Sato began, his voice dripping with irritation.

The smoke cleared to reveal a stunning figure standing defensively over the fallen chieftain.

She was a breathtaking beastkin woman with long, midnight-black hair flowing in luminous waves past her waist. Perched atop her head were soft, pointed wolf ears lined with pure white fur, and behind her swayed a lush, dark wolf tail tipped with white. She wore an elegant black and deep-purple flowing gown intricately embroidered with golden patterns, draped with dark feathered trim along the shoulders. Golden amber eyes burned with fierce intensity from her flawless face, fixed dead-center on the human assassin.

Sato froze. His narrow eyes widened, slowly scanning her from head to toe.

His irritated scowl melted away, instantly replaced by a vulgar, predatory grin.

"Well, well, well..." Sato breathed out, letting out a low whistle as he casually slid his free hand into his pocket. "What do we have here? A real beauty hiding in this trash-heap village?"

He looked down at Keith, who was coughing up blood on the dirt, and then back up at the woman.

"Don’t tell me... this beat-up old dog is your husband?" Sato chuckled obnoxious, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Talk about beauty and the beast. What a complete waste."

"Stay back, human vermin," she spoke, her voice deep, velvety, and resonant with authority. She held the curved scimitar firmly with both hands, placing herself squarely between Sato and her wounded mate.

"Lyra... no..." Keith choked out, struggling to push himself up on trembling arms. "Get back... take the cubs... run into the forest..."

"I will not leave you, Keith," Lyra replied without shifting her gaze. "The Ironclaw do not abandon their kin."

Sato’s grin widened even further. A twisted, arrogant thought formed in his mind as he twirled the obsidian blade between his fingers.

"Hey, lady, how about we make a deal?" Sato proposed casually, taking a slow step forward. "Your husband here is completely finished. One flick of my wrist and his head rolls off his shoulders. But I’m feeling generous today."

He tapped his chin with the flat of his blade, his gaze locking onto her with smug entitlement.

"Surrender yourself to me," Sato sneered, his voice laced with the cruel arrogance of an entitled thug given absolute power. "Kneel, swear complete obedience to me, and serve as my personal prize. Do that, and maybe I’ll let your pathetic husband keep breathing as a slave in our new garrison. What do you say? Trade your freedom for his miserable life."

Lyra’s golden eyes narrowed into slits of pure, burning disgust. Her wolf ears flattened back in utter contempt.

"You speak of submission as if your words carry weight, whelp," Lyra declared, her voice cold and unyielding. "My husband fought for our people with honor and blood. I would rather see us both fall beneath the sky of the Moon-Mother than surrender our dignity to a wretched coward who hides behind borrowed power!"

Sato’s face darkened, his smug amusement instantly vanishing into ugly, wounded pride.

"You stubborn mutt," Sato hissed through his teeth. "I gave you a chance, and you threw it in my face."

Before Sato could lunge, a deafening snarl erupted from the dirt.

"Don’t you dare look at her, you filth!" Keith roared.

Fuelled by the last drop of primal mana in his shattered body, Keith seized his fallen war cleaver with a bloody grip. Ignoring the agonizing pain in his crushed knee and severed tendons, he launched himself forward in a suicidal, explosive charge.

The colossal cleaver descended like a falling guillotine, aimed straight for Sato’s neck.

"Die with your pride, then!" Sato barked.

[Shadow Step: Instant Reversal]

Sato dissolved into a wisp of purple smoke. Keith’s heavy blade struck the empty sand with a thunderous crash, throwing up a crater of dirt and stone.

In the next microsecond, Sato materialized directly behind Keith.

The obsidian dagger, surging with dense, corrosive shadow-mana, drove straight through Keith’s back, piercing directly through his heart and bursting out the front of his scarred chest.

"Keith!" Lyra cried out, her composure shattering.

Keith’s massive body froze mid-motion. The amber fire in his eyes slowly dimmed as a river of dark crimson spilled from his mouth.

Sato leaned in close to the dying chieftain’s ear, whispering with pure malice.

"See? Useless to the very end," Sato mocked, ripping the blade free with a wet tearing sound. "Don’t worry, doggie. I’ll take real good care of your wife."

Keith’s colossal frame collapsed heavily onto the sand, lifeless.

Lyra’s breath hitched in her throat. Grief and fury surged through her veins like molten iron. With a ferocious cry, she swung her scimitar in a blinding arc, lunging straight for the assassin’s throat.

CLANG!

Sato blocked the strike effortlessly with the flat of his dagger, barely shifting his stance. With a flick of his wrist, he deflected the scimitar, stepped inside her guard, and caught her wrist in an iron grip.

"You’ve got fire, I’ll give you that," Sato smirked, his dark eyes locked on her trembling, furious face. "Makes capturing you even more entertaining."

He looked down at her body and he licked his lips, her big breast, and alabaster skin was too tempting.

He shoved her roughly onto her back, pinning her against the dirt and the blood-stained clothes of her dead husband. The woman struggled, scratching at his arms and trying to kick him away, but Sato was far stronger. He slammed his weight down on her, trapping her limbs and pinning her shoulders to the earth.

With a cruel smirk, Sato reached down and gripped her chest. He didn’t tease or coax; he simply lunged, his hand clamping firmly over her breast, squeezing the soft flesh with bruising force. The beastkin woman let out a choked sob, her body arching instinctively away from the violation.

"Stop... please..." she whimpered, her voice cracking.

Sato ignored her, his fingers digging deeper into her chest, kneading her breast like a piece of meat. He shifted his grip, pinching her nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it until she gasped in pain. He loved the way she trembled beneath him, the contrast between her wild, beastly strength and her current utter helplessness.

His other hand began to roam, sliding down from her waist to her thighs. He gripped her hip, pulling her leg wide open to expose her to the open air and his predatory gaze. He began to touch her, his fingers sliding roughly over her damp heat, ignoring her pleas and the way she sobbed into the dirt. He pushed a finger deep inside her, forcing himself into her tight channel without any preparation, relishing the way her body tightened in shock and resistance.

He continued to grope her chest with one hand while the other worked relentlessly between her legs, his movements aggressive and demanding. He wanted her to feel every inch of her defeat, ensuring she knew that her body now belonged to the man who had murdered the only person she ever loved.