Chapter 5: Exposure

The Hunter’s steps or the sound of his breathing as he trudged through the forest, still too far to be discerned by the natural ear. Tilla strained to listen. However, failing to detect another’s presence other than herself and the Lycan, who persisted to sit on top of her heavily, she instead looked back up at the wolf skeptically. 

Squirming in order to signal her discomfort in their current position, the movement provoked a crinkling of fallen leaves and other assorted remnants of forest debris, which prompted the man to press her back down more firmly into the ground. His ears, remaining keenly fixated on the sounds of the wood that were secret to her, he growled, “Hold still.” A crack of a twig heard shortly after this impatient warning was issued, Tilla’s head twitched in the direction of the noise. Convinced more now that the man had not been trying to deceive her, she no longer insisted on escaping from his grasp. 

Settling into her awkward situation beneath him, Tilla’s eyes moved back to regard his stern face as he whispered down to her, “This may be uncomfortable for you, but just bear with me.” Moderately frustrated to find herself subjected to whatever ploy it was that the wolf had in mind. Tilla breathed an exasperated sigh before finally consenting to participate in the plot with a circumspect nod. The lycanthrope freeing her hands, now that he seemed to express less concerns towards her potential as a flight risk. Tilla reached up to adjust the shawl over her head, covering more of the distinctly colored red hair so that it would be less recognizable if the Hunter should come across them. 

This effort hindered mildly as she felt the man’s coarse palm run up the side of her thigh, Tilla’s breath caught in her throat and easily swayed heart began to flutter excitedly. However, her eyes were fixed on him with a foreboding glare that communicated to him silently he was dangerously close to crossing over her boundaries. The Lycan’s mouth curled into a vaguely mischievous smirk as his fingers stopped at the band she had used to tie the knife to her thigh. Playing with impishly for a moment or two, Tilla had just begun to comprehend the premise of his plot, when he pulled back the string. Snapping it against her bare skin, the harsh flick incited a mild yelp from her that appeared to excite him more than they had intended. 

Leaning into the potential explicitness of the exclamation in order to better facilitate his plan, Tilla added to it by curling her leg around the man still pressing her into the forest floor. Surprised by the inviting gesture, there was a dangerous gleam in the Lycan’s captivating blue eyes and a rigidity about his body as the sound of the Hunter’s approach grew nearer to them. Leaning over her, the sensation of his hot breath close to her skin caused a quiver within her that only persisted as he lowered his lips. Clear that he intended to respect the limits she had warned him of earlier, he hovered just shy of taking her lips. However, committed to making their ruse convincing enough for few questions to be asked of them and unable to resist the temptation that was dangled so enticingly in front of her. Tilla wrapped her arms around his neck to gently pull him down into a kiss. 

His restraint felt as the tips of lycanthrope’s fingers dug into the soft skin on her thigh, they had begun to venture further, when the Hunter crashed through an adjacent bush. The Lycan separating reluctantly from the enticement Tilla’s lips had offered him willingly, he looked up towards the intruder with a mixture of vexation and dazed bewilderment that she had not been expecting. Their bodies mostly concealed behind the thick brush that surrounded them to remain somewhat discrete, there was enough revealed to the man for him to make a logical assumption towards their intended activity.

“What do you both think you’re doing out here?” said the Hunter, the question issued with a hefty note of irritation and disgust. He did not venture nearer to the couple as he spoke, but still held a cautious hand over the hilt of his sword whilst conducting his inquisition of them. 

Recognizing his voice from the night before, Tilla attempted to peek curiously out from between the branches to catch a glimpse of the man who spoke. However it was only the boots of the man the other Hunter had called Adrian that were visible from under the foliage as the lycanthrope began to give his reply, “We were just –“ His tentative explanation cut short by the other man as the answer seemed too startlingly obvious for him to entertain. Adrian did not wait before launching into a fervent chastisement, “Don’t you know that we’re hunting a potentially dangerous fugitive in these woods? You would be wiser to find somewhere else to fornicate.”

“Our apologies, Sir. We had no intention of disrupting your investigation. This is just the only place we are free to meet.” The Lycan replied. 

His tone convincingly contrite as he made a plea towards their feigned plight of forbidden love. Tilla could not see the expression that the Hunter adopted as he considered the Lycan’s words seriously. A tense silence, passing whilst Adrian made his decision, he finally announced, “Fine, just clothe and remove yourselves from the premises. We’re sweeping the entire area East of here, so just stay out of our way.” The two rewarded one last glare for their misconduct that Tilla was not able to benefit from. They waited until the Hunter had stomped far enough from their current location, before separating from each other. 

His body visibly dissatisfied with the unresolved business which remained between them, the lycanthrope slid off of her slowly. His eyes shifting away from her as wrenched her back from the ground, Tilla heard him grumble, “Follow me, Witch.” The demand made shortly prior to his transformation back into the hulking wolf that had stalked after her only a few moments ago, she frowned. Wishing to refuse his instructions at first, as she grudgingly wobbled back onto her injured ankle. Tilla acknowledged that with no other plan in mind and possessing very little knowledge of the forest that could be used to evade future encounters with Hunters, her best option was to adhere to the wolf’s gruff command to follow after him.

Still brushing the leaves and dirt from her skirt as she proceeded to tread in the beast’s footsteps. Tilla and the wolf took a very long and sinuous uncharted course between the trees. Weaving in amongst the brier bushes and thorny brambles of the wood, until they had eventually come to a steep sloping crevice that held the steadily flowing rapids of a waterfall. Clambering down the cavern to where the cascade of water descended into the depths of an icy pool, Tilla removed her boots and socks. Taking them in hand along with the edge of her skirt as she stumbled behind the wolf on the banks of the pool. They proceeded behind the white veil of the falls and into a hidden grotto that was well concealed from those who were not aware of its existence.

A small sprinkling of water, raining down on her as the creature shook its fur dry of the moisture it had accumulated from water formation. The wolf did not regard her as he flopped down against a side of the recess tiredly. The beat’s bones cracking and joints popping in a brutal procession of noises, it caused Tilla’s face to scrunch uncomfortably as he made the transition back into a man. Nothing with which he could use to provide him with some modesty, Tilla’s eyes lingered on the moisture that clung to his brow and glistened on the muscles of his torso as he leaned casually against the wall. Her stare continuing long beyond the amount of time that would be considered polite or even discrete, Tilla emitted a vexed puff of air.

Realizing her foolishness at allowing herself to be dictated by primal urges, Tilla removed the shawl from over her head. Tossing it down into his lap in a blatant request for him to display some modesty in her presence, she proceeded to rest against the wall opposite him. Although mildly annoyed to observe the gesture, the man began to place the fabric haphazardly across his lap. After covering only the bare minimum of the member that provoked such unease within her, he remarked impassively, “You’ll be too cold over there, little Witch.” Her eyes shifting over to regard him, she issued a curt correction in reply, “Tilla.”

The Lycan's gaze made more intense by the pristine waters of the falls that concealed them, it rested on her unwaveringly as he answered, “It’s pretty, but ‘Tilla’ wouldn’t happen to have a family name. Would she?” Evident, even to a stranger that ‘Tilla’ was merely a pet name given to her by someone that she once known in order to avoid the stuffy formality that went with a longer and more complex form of address. Her lips, pressing together as she half-heartedly poked at the obscured part of her memory for a more elaborate response. She looked away from the man as the answer did not reveal itself to her. 

“‘Tilla’ probably would have one, if she remembered it.” She confessed solemnly.

Her vulnerability, already viewed by him multiple times since their meeting, there was still a hint of surprise held within the Lycan’s brow as she chose to relinquish this particular fact to him. Unsure of whether Tilla regretted sharing this personal information with a man she barely knew, there was only the sound of rushing water audible in the pregnant pause that was to follow. Pondering what remained unknown to them for an instance, the lycanthrope finally permitted a reply. 

“Luther Bane.” he said. Blinking curiously at the name, Tilla repeated it as though she wished to discover the sensation of its form passing over her lips for the first time, “Luther Bane.” 

The sound of his own name, seeming to provoke a glint within his cold irises. A subtle shiver rushed down Tilla’s spine as their eyes met once again. The rebellious organ in her chest pounding as it enjoyed this risky flirtation, Tilla averted her attention towards the new cuts and bruises that marred her skin. Lifting the hem of her skirt to touch at her still throbbing ankle, there were now the distinct fang marks of Luther Bane present upon the thin arch of her Achilles tendon and the tibia. Their little indentations, not deep enough to promote persistent bleeding after more than a few minutes, she ran her fingers across them pensively as she considered healing them. However, beginning to feel that she might have been deserving of at least these minor wounds, Tilla chose to leave them as they were.

Admittedly glad that he had come to retrieve her in time for her not to be caught by the Hunters, Tilla regretted slightly the disregard she had displayed in her hasty escape from him. Preoccupied with the reflections of the actions she had taken within the last twenty-four hours, she did not hear as Luther removed himself from his position against the opposite wall. Jolted from her thoughts as he came to slide down onto the floor beside her, Tilla did not regard the lycanthrope as he asked mildly, “Does it hurt?” Not a hint of an apology about his demeanor and too embarrassed to give him the satisfaction of admitting another weakness to him. Tilla flicked the hem of her skirt back over her feet as she replied, “It’s fine.” 

Her lack of power or even the memories, never bothering Tilla whilst she had been sheltered within the moderate seclusion of the village. She now lamented the passivity she had displayed when operating under her naïve assumptions of peace. Her helplessness, coming to light under the scrutiny of recent events. Tilla turned to pose an odd query towards the being who obviously possessed none of the shortcomings that concerned her.

“The Hunter, you could have killed him and escaped just as easily. Why didn’t you?” She asked. Her question, evoking a vague crease to form between his eyes as the Lycan’s expression suggested that he took issue with the assumption of violence in this situation. He slouched back into his posture against the side of the cave as he replied, “I could have just as easily killed the Witch that led Hunters to my lair too. It doesn’t mean that I should.” 

Nodding thoughtfully as his response was a sobering reminder that power and responsibility should be constant bedfellows and not just temporary lovers. Tilla would not have blamed Luther if the thought of doing away with her after she had brought so much trouble into his life had crossed his mind at least a few times by now. However, her curiosity towards the restraints of those naturally endowed with power still not satisfied, she asked, “Did you want to?” Luther’s gaze moving back over to her, Tilla was engrossed in the silence that preceded his response. His eyes still searched as though hoping to discover more of her secrets as he answered with a resounding, “No.”