Rating: M | Multi-Chapter | Paced Publishing

I love this series beyond comprehension, and while I never would have guessed the twist ending, I am not disappointed in it at all. Far from it, it gives the perfect imaginative twist that leaves me wanting to know more. This is my take.

Instincts

Chapter One

Two weeks, maybe three. Possibly three and a half weeks, he honestly wasn't sure anymore. Time was lost with space and space wasn't coming fast enough.

Trolls were massively strong warriors, capable of demolishing whole buildings like living wrecking balls… but they were also huge, clumsy, and so set in their ways that travel took forever. Add in one cantankerous old wizard, the majority of the group's inability to travel during the daylight hours, and the necessary needs of one uncomplaining human female, and Jim was not surprised that their ragtag group had only just crossed the California/Nevada border in the dusky, gray light of early dawn that morning.

Getting his whole pack safely from Southern California to New Jersey was starting to look like an impossible feat. Or – at the very least – an extremely long, hot, and exhausting feat. All the same, they had been relieved to cross the border as it marked some form of progress. Progress that – despite Glug's constant whining about not having any… well, Glug; despite Dictatious's groveling and shuffling along blindly; despite Bagdwella's screechy, 'better than thou' voice complaining at every opportunity – they had actually gotten a teeny, tiny bit closer to their goal.

The sense of victory only lasted so long, as the sun had risen closer to the horizon and the landscape became thinner, starting to give way to desert. There had been a moment of slight panic at the lack of shelter, but Claire's confident, soft voice had gently reminded everyone that they had been carefully following along the surface of a carven system for a reason. There hadn't been an urgent need of the system's use before then, coverage during the day easy to find as they had travelled through the forests and mountains. Thankfully, Blinky had been quick to pull out his horngazel and create a portal through the ground to the caverns below, and they had all made it safely inside just before the sunlight reached the area where they had been congregated.

The cavern system was huge, going further in all directions than Jim — even with his now-enhanced eyesight — could see. Claire had clung to him, blind in the complete darkness, until glowing crystals had been brought out by their troll owners. The air was chilly and smelled damp, but clean, and there was an underground river flowing clear, cool, and gentle through the middle of the room that they had found themselves in.

The sight was so welcome and his pack was so tired and grumpy that it was discussed and decided that they would stay put for a couple of days to recuperate before returning to the surface to begin traveling again. They were all reluctant to travel through the caverns, given the inability to judge the layout. Cave-ins and shifting rocks were always possible, not to mention that — while their current area seemed safe — there was no telling what could be lurking further out. Jim would be damned if he was going to risk dragging his pack and mate through a Nyarlagroth nest or the like.

Jim sighed and opened his eyes, shaking himself free from his thoughts. Despite his initial freak out over his new form, it hadn't taken him long to accept and adjust to the changes. Merlin finally being able to finagle his magic into getting the Amulet to release was a big help too. Even a troll, let alone a troll/human hybrid, could only go so long without a bathroom break.

But there were times when his new trollish traits clashed with his existing human traits; or, in this case, they had decided to combine forces and give him a mental breakdown. With the change had come a more animalistic nature to both his mind and instincts. He could see further in both light and dark, he could hear better, and he could smell practically everything — and, therein lay the problem.

Jim had noticed fairly quickly that his now-enhanced sense of smell was his strongest new ability. He could smell the mould on the wall, the calcium in the rocks, the minerals in the water, the type of wood that they had used to make a fire, the Argyle socks that NotEnrique had carefully tucked away in Claire's pack, and Claire...

Claire's scent was primary in his brain, like she was permanently tattooed into his senses. She had told him that he was still 'Jim' on the inside... but that wasn't really true. At least, he wasn't the same 'Jim' as he had been. He had loved Claire beyond comprehension before, but now it was... more. She was his, and he was hers. He had no other way to describe the feeling; it was possessive, without actually being possessive. He needed her, but was not jealous or angry if she happened to be out of his sight or speaking with someone else. If there was a threat, his first instinct was to protect her before anyone else, though he knew that his sorceress could defend herself more than well enough.

Jim had struggled with reconciling these feelings with what he had known as a human, but everything was far too intense. The love for her was still there, and while he had been physically attracted to her before, it was controllable; but this…

Jim huffed out a heavy breath through his nose, a slight growl rising in his chest as he slammed his fists down on his thighs. The cool water that he was submerged waist deep in splashed loudly, and he lifted his hands to grip at his horns anxiously instead, squeezing his eyes shut once more.

It was taking every ounce of mental strength he could find to stay as far away from Claire as possible right now. Thankfully, she was asleep for the day, curled up in their sleeping bag. Normally, he would be sleeping next to her, but… He refused to go too far, unable to suppress the instinct to keep her within enough of his range that he could come to her aid in a heartbeat if danger arose, but there were… other instincts that were vying for his attention — or, specifically, Claire's attention.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," Jim muttered angrily to himself, yanking almost desperately on his horns. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself—

"Fuck," Jim exclaimed under his breath as Claire's scent floated strongly in the air, and he could literally taste the pheromones her body was exuding.

"Mi amor? What are you doing all the way over here?"

Jim snapped his eyes open, immediately catching sight of his mate — Merlin's Beard, Jim, do NOT say that word to her — standing ankle deep on the edge of the river that ran through the cavern. He was a fair distance from camp, the glow of the fire barely visible beyond a mound of fallen rocks, well out of sight, so he wasn't quite sure how she had found him, but he was less worried about that than the fact that she was right there. In one of his old t-shirts, and nothing else, except — presumably — her underwear.

"Cl-Claire," he stuttered, his body reacting immediately to her very delicious scent, and even better tasting presence. He was wearing cargo pants and it was dark, but the water was clear, and he could only pray that she didn't come any closer. But, damn it, he wanted her closer, he wanted her, he wanted—

Jim shook his head roughly, huffing out a harsh breath in an attempt to expel her essence from his senses. "S-sorry, I just…"

The water sloshed as she trudged toward him through the river, and he wanted to run, but his body refused to listen. Instead, it reacted more strongly, and he could smell his own pheromones in the air now, mixing with hers, and he nearly wept with desire. Jim's hands released their hold on his horns and immediately reached for her own hands as she sat on her knees in front of him, the water coming up to just under her breasts, causing the t-shirt to float around her in the lazy current. He could see her nipples poking at the fabric of the shirt, tightening with the cool sensation of the river.

If she noticed the tremor in his hands or his harsh breathing, she didn't point it out. Instead, she pulled one of her hands from his, lifting it to caress his cheek. Jim couldn't help but lean into her touch, a whine of desire rising from his chest.

"Tell me," Claire implored, her eyes soft, concerned, loving.

"I— you—" he growled in frustration, wanting to explain himself to her, but not wanting to worry or offend her either. She waited patiently and finally — finally! — he was able to blurt the words out, if not quite as eloquently as would have liked. "You smell amazing."

To her credit, Claire didn't seem to become offended, nor did she laugh at his awkward confession. She cocked her head to the side a little, her voice innocently curious, but patient. "How so?"

"Your scent is always changing," he attempted to explain, watching her carefully for a negative reaction, all the while mentally waging war against his animal-like instincts. "But it's… different… stronger now."

Claire was silent for a minute, but her expression was neutral, simply processing what he was trying to tell her. Finally, she met his gaze again, her cheeks a tinge pink. "It's always changing… because I'm a female, right?"

Jim gulped, nodding hesitantly.

"And… I smell stronger to you, right now?" Again, he nodded, and — to his surprise — she smiled gently up at him. "Jim… am I, you know, receptive right now?"

He wondered if his face became a darker shade of blue in reaction to his embarrassment and shame. He looked away from her, closing his eyes as he nodded his confirmation of her assumption. He heard the water slosh around them before he felt Claire move.

"Claire!" Jim gasped in outraged shock as she slid into his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist to hook together behind his back. His hands automatically went to her waist, wanting to push her away, but only pulling her closer. Claire's scent was even stronger, her pheromones doubling in an instant. She was aroused. She ground her body into his, leaving no doubt in his mind as to whether or not she could feel him.

"Oh!" Claire laughed quietly and grabbed onto his shoulders as he instinctively jerked his hips forward and she bounced in his lap. The movement jarred his barely healed chest wound, and he gasped a labored breath, wincing in a combination of pain and pleasure.

Immediately, she calmed, her hands moving from his shoulders to his bare chest, caressing the recently sealed wound above his heart. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

Jim couldn't help but wheeze out a slight laugh. "I'm the who moved, Claire."

She smiled and leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat as she placed a gentle kiss to the wound. "I was teasing you."

She was still becoming increasingly tempting, but he was slightly more relaxed now that she knew and wasn't disgusted or freaked out. In fact, she was anything but disgusted, if he could trust his nose, which he did without question. The pain had been sharp, but brief, and did nothing to discourage his body's reaction to his mate. He had realized fairly quickly what the changes in her scent were all about, but he had never anticipated her fertile time to be so strong. Nor had he anticipated her more than favorable reaction to that information; Jim half wondered if maybe his own pheromones were affecting her, just as hers were affecting him.

"M-maybe you should go back to camp," Jim replied, his voice hesitant and shaky. Despite his words, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer.

"Maybe I don't want to," was her defiant answer, and then her teeth were pressing into his neck.

Riiiiiiiiiiiip.

The shirt Claire had been wearing was floating in shreds down the river, toward camp, and his arms hitched her body higher up his chest. Her lips found his, their tongues entangling for the deepest kiss they had ever shared. His mouth was wide enough that his teeth were not in the way, though Jim forced himself to resist the urge to reciprocate her love bite. His hands found themselves wandering, one coming up to fist her hair gently, and the other finding purchase on her bare bottom, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of her underwear. She squeaked against his mouth at the sensation, and it was enough of a surprise to jar him back into reality.

"Stop!" Jim gasped, his hands moving to clutch at her waist again, this time successfully pushing her back, despite her resistance.

"Jim, it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" he growled, frustrated. Her breasts — by Deya, those breasts! — were heaving with the heavy breaths she was taking, her scent thick around him. "You don't understand, you don't realize—"

"That I'll get pregnant?"

Okay, so she did understand. Claire's acceptance didn't make his resistance any easier. He knew his own body, changes and all, well enough by now to know that he really wasn't that much different from his human self, at least structurally. He'd grown taller, his chest broader, and his head had obviously been the biggest change. From the waist down, however, he had remained roughly the same; his legs had become strengthened, his muscles thicker, but he was still the size of an average adult human. If he still bled red blood, then it stood to reason… Well, he'd been kind of busy in the last few weeks to test that theory, but Jim was fairly certain of the answer.

"I…" Jim trailed off, his heart pounding in his chest beneath her fingertips. He swallowed roughly, nervously catching sight of her soft smile. "I'm… human enough… for that."

"Jim," Claire said, lifting her hands to caress his face, and his own hands loosened on her waist enough for her to slide her body against his again. "You do realize that when our parents gave us permission to go off together, they were basically giving their permission for us to elope?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted shyly, and her smile widened.

"So…" Claire's voice was quiet and mischievous, her expression sly as she ran her hands lightly down his chest. "If we're married, doesn't that include all of… this?"

The squeak he let out as she gripped him firmly through his baggy pants was far from manly. Despite the exquisite pleasure of her movements, what she was telling him without actually saying the words kept him frozen in shock. With the whole flour sack baby ordeal, while they had completely and utterly failed, they were admittedly less caring of a fake child than they would be with a real one (they had both been ready to — and nearly did — die in order to save Enrique's life, after all). Claire was his other half, and they had always spoken openly to each other, and the subject of children had been spoken of between them during that time, but it had always been a "One day…" dream. Since he had changed, he had silently accepted that she wouldn't likely still have that dream. Apparently, he was very wrong.

"Now?" he panted through her movements, hands tight on her hips as he resisted the urge to thrust forward.

"Why not?" Claire replied in a deceptively innocent voice. "I thought you said you would make a good father?"

"And you reminded me that I blew up our baby!" Jim laughed, relieved and not surprised that her thoughts were along the same lines as his. Honestly, nothing about their relationship should surprise him anymore.

"She died for the greater good," Claire's expression was solemn, but her voice was amused. All the while, her hand was still moving, and his willpower was crumbling to bits.

"We'll be traveling by foot for months, Claire," Jim warned, not really wanting her to change her mind, but he wanted her to truly realize what it was she was asking for. "You'll be so vulnerable."

Claire's non-busy hand shot up to grab at one of his horns, yanking his head down to bring his lips to hers. He relaxed into the kiss, his resistance all but gone, and the whispered words of her response against his lips obliterated it entirely.

"You'll keep us safe."

If anyone at camp heard the splash of the water, or the growl Jim let out, or even Claire's gasping laugh as he swung her up into his arms and ran further back into the recesses of the cave with her, he couldn't bring himself to care.

To be continued…

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