The Price of Love

Chapter 3

Hunted

Kyrien bit back another hiss of pain as he at last decided to take a rest and leaned up against a tree. He was quick to disappear into the forest when his unlikely savior came to devour his assailants but as initial shock wore off his wounds had decided to make themselves known. The naga had hurt him deep within and it was getting harder to move about on foot; the gash on his side wasn’t helping matters either. Kyrien felt the cool night breeze caress his battered body and let out a long sigh. He was naked, hurt, and cold; he surveyed his surroundings, nothing seemed amiss. He turned around, a strange feeling tickling at his instincts. With little other option, Kyrien concentrated and with a little more effort than usual managed to transform into a sleek violet hued panther.

Once in his feline form, Kyrien leapt up into the trees and despite his pain he leapt from branch to branch trying to put some distance between himself and the aweful feeling his instincts had sensed. The pain in his side burned, forcing him to stop much sooner than he would have liked. Perched high he turned his attentions to his gash; he contorted his body so as to lick his wound, cleaning it thoroughly to prevent infection as well as prevent the scent of blood from attracting any predators. His fur coat kept him warm and as exhaustion set in he began to succumb to sleep high in the trees.

There was no telling how long he had slept, it might have been a few hours, or a few minutes, the moon shown brightly overhead and the forest was alive with the sounds of nocturnal insects. Something however wasn’t right, something had stirred Kyrien’s feline senses. His eyes flashed open and peered into the darkness, his perfect night vision however helped none. Despite not seeing any danger, he still felt it. Kyrien growled as he crouched on his tree limb, ready to pounce onto whatever adversary lurked nearby.

For several seconds, nothing happened, the crickets chirped, the frogs croaked and not even the slightest snap of a twig gave any evidence of a predator. Kyrien at last relaxed, telling himself he was letting his paranoia get the better of him. No sooner did he relax when it happened, a sharp vicious pain exploded in his left shoulder. Kyrien stumbled out of the tree, roaring in agony and shock. As soon as he hit the ground, it was upon him; teeth sunk into the back of his neck and bore him to the ground. Kyrien resisted, twisting beneath the beast and lashing out with his claws. He whipped his tail about angrily and hissed but the beast that held him would not relent. He tried again to swipe with his claws but his limbs felt unnaturally heavy and his vision began to tunnel. A rush of nausea hit him and before he could cry out in dismay, he felt his consciousness slip off into oblivion. The poison tipped arrow embedded in his shoulder had done its job. As Kyrien’s world succumbed to blackness he caught the faintest glimpse of the wolf that had bore down on him run to greet his master, a lumbering outline of a being, that Kyrien never stayed awake long enough to make out.

Kyrien’s stomach awoke before he did. The smell of meat roasting over a fire had forced Kyrien to open his eyes only to find an alarming darkness. Kyrien roared in alarm, still in his feline form but his feet were all bound together and he was blindfolded. Surprisingly both the gash on his side and the small gash in his shoulder had been treated and dressed appropriately. Being bound made it rather impossible for him to transform back to his normal self but then he still wasn’t even sure what he was dealing with. Kyrien heard movement, the wolf was nearby whining to its master who gave out the occasional odd grunt or grumble. Having little patience at this point Kyrien roared again as he struggled to get free of the impossible bindings, using up his last bit of energy.

“You be quiet!” growled a brutish voice with a thick rough accent.

Kyrien growled and began to thrash about but he soon discovered not only was he bound; he was also imprisoned in some sort of small cage.

“I said be quiet!”

A stone flew and smashed against the cage causing Kyrien alarm as he paused in his struggles. Thick heavy footsteps thumped upon the ground as someone or something approached grunting and cursing in frustration. Rough thick hands grasped the back of his neck by the scruff and wrenched his head back painfully to make a point. Kyrien growled low in the back of his throat.

“If you want to be fed, you best shut your trap. It’s not wise to be loud in the woods at night.” warned the voice.

Kyrien settled down, what other choice did he have? At last the large hand reached into the cage and offered a slab of meat to Kyrien’s nose. Kyrien hungrily snatched the meat from his captor and hastily devoured it. Whatever had caught him was remarkably strong because within moments Kyrien felt his cage being lifted and hoisted onto some sort of wagon. Kyrien felt panic as the wagon began to head in an unfamiliar direction. Kyrien roared again in protest but the sharp snap of a whip against the bars of his cage made him hold his breath.
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll kill you right here, feed you to my wolf and tan your hide to make a dress for my wife!” bellowed deep gruff voice.

Hours went by and the cage jostled about on the wagon, Kyrien felt his heart sink with despair of never getting home again. Thoughts of the cruel naga tormented him, as did his memories of Ryka. Kyrien no longer growled, no longer roared, part of him no longer even cared. At this point he silently hoped whatever fate awaited him would be over mercifully quick and end his life.

It must have been morning or midday, the sun was bright even through the blindfold. For what seemed like forever, the wagon carried Kyrien through a hot bright place which had he been able to see would have been terrified by how far from his forest he was being transported. Gone were the thick canopies of the Ferales Forest with it’s swaying vines, lost ruins, and ancient trees; now was the winding mage like gulch of towering stone pillars known as ‘Thousand Needles’. Kyrien had lost track of time but when the wagon began to roll onto something that sounding not like dirt but more like wood he stiffened in alarm; the wagon somehow seemed to levitate. Kyrien could hear the wolf whine with unease; this didn’t comfort him at all. When the wagon ceased in levitating, it began to once again move along, there was no shade; wherever they were it was warm, bright, and noisy. Sounds of commerce, revelry, and discussion could be heard all around. The wagon at last stopped and he could hear his captor grunt and scuffle off, leaving him still bound, blindfolded and caged on the back of a parked wagon. Kyrien wondered what would become of him, was he to be eaten, sold, or even be made a pet?

With only his self pity and regret to keep him company, Kyrien lay in his cage, hot, thirsty and uncaring; so lost was he in his stupor that he barely registered when hands reached in and suddenly cut his bindings and removed his blindfold.

“Get away from there! What do you think you’re doing!” growled the familiar voice of his captor.

“Calm down mon, you be gettin too worked up. Don’t ya know it’s bad juju to be mistreatin an animal?” came an exotic unfamiliar voice.

Kyrien’s vision took a minute to adjust to the bright sunlight; he looked up to see a light-blue skinned troll with long green hair in braids. He looked similar to a night elf except his taller build, broader ears, and a pair of long thick tusks jutting out his lower lip; yet still, he had a certain handsomeness about him that kept Kyrien starring for a bit longer than he might have wanted to admit.

“I don’t give is kodo’s shit about your damn juju! That cat is my prize and not your concern.” Kyrien could see now, his captor was an older orc with dark green skin and no hair on his head, and a scruffy beard tied in an uneven braid.

“Ignorin the juju be what cursed de trolls, you be wise to learn from our mistake mon.”

The troll glanced back at Kyrien and smirked with a grin that hinted at cunning. Kyrien wondered why his heart suddenly pounded then watched with a hint of disappointment when the troll waved up his hands defensively at the orc and walked off back towards another tent. Kyrien then peered about his surroundings, the tents and buildings were no doubt tauren in design. Large totems decorated the compounds. They seemed to be high up on a mesa, not far away was some sort of lift. Kyrien expected to be bound any minute but the orc simply grumbled to himself something about trolls and trickery and then tossed Kyrien another serving of roasted meat and a bowl of water.
Late that night, the compound seemed to grow quiet. Kyrien was wide awake as he looked without seeing into space, thinking about the peculiar troll. Despite that, nothing could have prepared him when said troll suddenly appeared once more, as if stepping from the shadows. The troll grinned again at Kyrien and cautiously reached up to put his hand against the cage, obviously testing to see if Kyrien would try to bite him. Kyrien felt no desire to bite the troll who had earlier released him of his bindings and he simply sniffed at the troll’s hand and gave a noncommittal lick to reassure the troll he’d lose no appendages.

“Dat orc’s a mean brute yeah? Les see if I can give ya a hand.” whispered the cunning troll. He pulled out some peculiar tools and instantly set to work at breaking into the cage’s lock. After a few moments, a resounding click, and the cage door swung open. Kyrien leapt out of the cage and glanced at the troll, still a bit perplexed by the troll’s behavior.

“What be da matter? Miss me already?” teased the troll.
Suddenly movement stirred from within the orc’s tent and the troll waved at Kyrien and then indicated a nearby tent on the other side of the mesa. Kyrien followed after the troll towards the other tent, panic led to impulse as he found himself sitting in the small one occupant tent with his odd yet charming savior.
The troll then further surprised him when he reached into a bag and tossed a pair of linen breeches at Kyrien.

“I suppose you be needin a pair me pointy eared brudder.” Smirked the troll.

Kyrien just looked at him, hesitant to confirm the troll’s suspicions and unsure how well he could continue his ruse.

“Oh you be da shy type, pardon me mon.” the troll chuckled, mistaking Kyrien’s hesitation for modesty, and turned away from Kyrien, offering him some privacy. Kyrien shrugged and transformed back to his true form and quickly put on the, albeit, oversized breeches. The troll smirked and offered him a short rope to use as a makeshift belt.

“How’d you know what I was?” asked Kyrien as he cinched the knot.

“Oh I ain’t as dumb as dey say. Besides, I got a sis who be in to all dat sanctity of nature business and I be meetin wit your kind a time or two in my travels. My name is Erllok; dat orc who had ye be named Grothgar. He got a wife who beats him so he always in a foul mood. I think she be angry she marry a hunter and not a warchief.” Errlok chuckled again and Kyrien felt a bit more at ease.

“My name’s Kyrien, I’m not sure where I am, but I come from the Island off the western coast of Ferales.”

“Well you be a long way from home my pointy eared brudder. This be Freewind Post, you be deep in the Thousand Needles closer to da Shimmerin Sands.”

Kyrien felt his heart sink, he couldn’t believe how far out he was from his
home. He must have once again slipped into his trance of thought, Erllok had managed to slide up close to him and place an arm around him, pulling him a bit closer than was comfortable.

“Dere dere little brudder, don’t be sad. I’m here.” Erllok’s smile made Kyrien’s heart race and panic at the same time. Erllok smiled and saw a chance when the night elf did nothing; with a simple shifting of his own weight and a little coaxing for Kyrien to adjust accordingly, the sly troll managed to get Kyrien on his back while looming over him with a smug grin planted on his face.

“What are you doing?” asked Kyrien as he raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

“Helpin you to relax mon,“ answered Erllok with amusement as he leaned down and gently nuzzled Kyrien while stroking his long green hair. Kyrien actually felt himself relax somewhat to the touch, Erllok’s hands were warm and he had the most intriguing scent of incense and spices.

“Heh heh, I knew it, I knew when I saw ya what ya be, and I knew ya be a samer by da way ya wagged yer kitty tail at me.”
Kyrien felt his cheeks darken when his host made amusement at his expense. Kyrien sat up and gently pushed Erllok aside.

“I think you may be suffering from too many assumptions. I appreciate you rescuing me but unless you plan to help me get off this mesa, I best be on my way before that blasted orc realizes I’m missing.” Kyrien was about to hoist himself up but a firm palm against his chest stopped him abruptly and with perfect agility, Erllok was upon him once more, this time however he straddled his young night elf and leaned down so that his face was within an inch of his ward.

“What the!..” Kyrien’s words were lost in his gasp as Erllok’s lips planted themselves firmly over his, tusks pressed against his cheeks and the troll’s hands found the night elf’s wrists and held them firmly throughout the duration of his stolen kiss. When Erllok released Kyrien’s lips for air, Kyrien was at a loss for words, he was somewhat outraged at the troll’s audacity yet he wanted to be kissed again.

“Like dat didn’t ya?” smirked the troll.

“Nonsense, get off me.”

“Oh but what I be sittin on is telling me otherwise.” teased Erllok.
Again Kyrien’s cheeks went a darker shade of purple and Errlok laughed in amusement at how easy it was to embarrass the night elf.

“I saved ya life my sweet Kyrie, you be owin me some kind of payment.” teased Erllok.
The nickname ‘Kyrie’ struck Kyrien like a stab to the heart, his memory pulling up Ryka and all the hurt came rushing back. Erllok looked genuinely alarmed as he noted the hints of moisture that suddenly filled the corners of the night elf’s crystalline eyes. Erllok got off of Kyrien and gently wiped the would-be tears away with his thumb.

“Dere Dere, I be jokin more dan I should.”
Kyrien shook his head to clear his thoughts and took a deep breath, forcing back the hurt.

“I’ll be fine, and thank you for saving me.” replied Kyrien as he carelessly placed a hand on top of Erllok’s. Erllok smiled at the gesture and wondered if the night elf even realized he had made such an unspoken declaration. Erllok smiled warmly at Kyrien and leaned in once more, this time however, just to deliver a chaste kiss on the distraught night elf’s forehead. Kyrien felt the smile on his face before he could suppress it and suddenly found himself wanting more; he reached out to Erllok and leaned against his warm flat chest, listening to his heart beat for a moment before he could feel the troll’s long muscular arms wrap around and hold him gently. It felt so good, the warmth, the security, after all that had happened to him, at last a being who showed some signs of affection toward him. Erllok grinned and hoisted the night elf onto his lap and embraced him, he took in the sweet earthy smell of the druid and began carefully kissing along his neck, cautious of his tusks. Kyrien moaned softly into the troll’s ear as soft eager lips tickled and caressed the sensitive skin along his throat. Kyrien let his head roll back, giving the troll easier access to his neck, a bulge quickly formed in the troll’s lap, one that desperately pressed itself eagerly against Kyrien’s pant-clad rear. Kyrien let out another soft moan, somewhere in his mind he cried out “stop this!” but the rest of his mind was too far gone in the moment to pay any attention. Kyrien gasped as Erllok’s fingers coiled around the hem of his borrowed breeches; the troll’s knuckles grazed the tender skin that covered the curve of his hip and led to the very edge of where his nether hairs began. Kyrien let out a mew and embraced Erllok as the skilled troll teasingly lowered his pants so that they barely rested on his narrow hips.

“You tink you can handle my juju?” whispered the troll playfully.
Kyrien simply moaned wantonly as he couldn’t help but grind against the thickening bulge in Erllok’s pants. Erllok thrusted up to meet his night elf’s maddening teases and began hastily undoing his own breeches when suddenly his tent was wrenched open.

“Grab him!”

Kyrien was suddenly wrenched away from the troll who had saved him and thrust into the rough iron grip of the very orc who had captured him in the first place. Two tauren guards had come at Grothgar’s behest to investigate stolen merchandise. The first tauren had grabbed Kyrien and handed him over to Grothgar; the second stomped up to a bewildered Erllok and delivered a bone shattering punch across the troll’s temple rendering him unconscious. Kyrien cried out desperately to the troll as he was hoisted over the orc’s shoulder and carried back to the first tent and unceremoniously tossed back into the original cage.

“Let me out! I’m not an animal!” he yelled angrily. Grothgar simply laughed and slammed his cage to shut him up.

“My wolf sniffed you out, it’s a good thing you’re not an animal! I can get more money that way, now I can sell a slave!”
Kyrien glared at Grothgar and struggled in his cage.

“You best be quiet, or I’ll be marring your pretty purple skin with my whip!”

Kyrien’s attention then turned to the middle of the compound where the two tauren guards hauled Erllok out and bound him in one of the stocks. Erllok chanced a glance at Kyrien, one eye was swollen shut but he still managed a smirk that no doubt was intended to reassure the caged night elf.

“Yeah say goodbye to that tricky, conniving troll, he’ll be lucky if they let him keep his hands attached for stealing.”

Grothgar laughed darkly and retreated into his tent and soon after emerge packed up and ready to continue on his was towards his original destination. Kyrien’s eyes never left Erllok as the wagon carried him once again to an unknown fate.

Erllok watched the wagon disappear down the lift; he felt a horrible pang of guilt for not getting his night elf farther away when he had the chance. Much to his dismay he’d let his lust get the better of him and now his poor night elf was going to suffer for it.

“Fear not me pointy eared brudder, I be takin ya back, I’m not done wit ya yet.” muttered Erllok with a smug grin on his face.

He’d wait for his guards to return to sleep then sneak out before dawn. There wasn’t a contraption made that could hold a rogue as skilled as he was in the art of lockpicking.