Bend Her (The Transformation Trilogy, #1)

by Cassie Alexander

She was my death made flesh, and she was beautiful.

And my beast had a feeling she would taste good, no matter where he licked her.

My entire life I’d been told that I was precious. Too precious to see the sun unguarded, too precious to see the stars at night. It was what my father told me, and my brother, and the mages that guarded our doors, and my mother too, up until the Deathless killed her.

that once precious things were put away, they were easily forgotten. And if they’re forgotten long enough, nobody notices when they break.

Every mage gets one clear vision on the eve of their Ascension into their full powers, right before they get the brand of their mage-mark: you see the thing that will cause your absolute demise.

And so, when a group of soldiers brought a bound and drugged woman to my doorstep, and pulled the bag off of her head and I saw her there—the woman from the vision at my Ascension, and who has haunted my dreams ever since—I knew it was the beginning of my end.

My castle moved frequently, so the fact that he kept finding me said something about the power of the mages on his side—many of whom I did know, in passing—and his unwavering belief that my magical addition to his cause would help.

I dropped my impeccable control and let him free. I raced down the stairs of my castle, my form changing as I gave in to the monster my magic made of me: a massive beast covered in short, dark fur, roped with muscle, fingers tipped with claws, and my mouth transformed into a snarling muzzle filled with teeth and cruelly curved fangs.

“King Jaegar sends you his most valuable possession, All-Beast,” Castillion growled, standing firm in the face of my monstrosity. “Princess Lisane.”

In sleep, she was perfect. Soft. Quiet. Helpless. And my beast had a feeling she would taste good, no matter where he licked her.

Castillion eyed me and nodded. “And when can we expect you?” I stared down at her helpless form, and metered out the rest of my life against her slight weight. “Three hours on the field of battle a day, every day, starting tomorrow.”

As I watched her eat with her fingers and threaten my life, it was possible I’d never been so hard, my heavy cock pressing against my leather’s laces beneath the table. It was all I could do not to smirk at her. Yes, I would die, and yes, she would kill me, but until then, I was going to earn out every moment of my glorious death from her, for as long as fate allowed it.

I found something the embroidery’s complicated pattern had hidden—a thin loop of gold, beautifully made. I held it up and worked its subtle clasp, found its hinge, and that was what gave it away. It wasn’t meant to be a circlet fit for a princess—it was a collar. Like one might give a dog.

“And just what does it feel like to be a gentled mare, passed along from hand to hand? Instead of a collar, would you prefer a bit and reins?”

Deathless would start pulling themselves out of it any moment now. They were messily made creatures, with no genitals, ears, or eyes, just mouths full of sharp teeth and limbs that ended in claws, and full of a foul, dark ichor that appeared to power them.

certain mages had sold their powers off to the highest bidders for fighting and espionage, which was why we high-born women had to be hidden in windowless chambers, so no mage could see us and portal in to steal us away.

My castle’s crenulated roof was only accessible by one door if I didn’t portal, and it currently opened up to a gorgeous view of the sun about to drop between two craggy mountains. I’d created a small pavilion on my castle’s stone roof to enjoy such views from my bath, which was an inset marble tub much like a milky gem.

I wanted to be feared for my mind rather than dreaded for my appearance. And on the occasions when I did fuck, the size of my own cock and the fact that I’d pierced it was problematic enough, before the inclusion of a sheath and a knot.

“Do not think good things where I’m concerned, little moth.”

“Sit on the desk, little moth,” I said, getting up to draw my own chair closer. She did as she was told, but watched me warily, her knees clenched disappointingly tight. Little did she know how I could smell her.

“Is it dinner time?” Finx scurried in, jumping up to sit on his haunches on one of my counters, all eight of his legs somehow tucked under himself.

The monstrosity of a cat, now sitting on the floor, rolled all eight of his golden eyes at me at once.

“Tell me the worst things that have ever happened to you, Lisane.”

“My . . . mother dying,” I answered slowly. “And then, being here. This.” I looked around the room quickly, trying to understand. “Prepare to add a third,” he said. He produced a knife from somewhere on his person and reached for the hem of my skirt.

“Run.”

it was hard not to imagine her struggling in other ways to please me solely. Swallowing down the gasp she would give at seeing my cock’s pierced head. The lips that wrapped around my pipe stem also wrapped around my shaft. The hand that held my pipe’s bowl, stroking at my sack. The amber eyes that the smoke watered tearing up, as I pleasured myself with her mouth. At the thought of my knot flaring in my fist as I poured my seed down her throat, I full-body shuddered, wracked by temptation.

He hungered, and it was a full-body thing: his claws wanted to tear, his teeth wanted to sink into flesh, and he felt lust such as I had never known.

I knew the things he felt for her, because they were merely amplifications of my own urges, without decorum or boundaries.

Yes, my beast refuted me. She belongs to me, he continued, curling his claw-tipped fingers into grasping fists. And someday, I will mark her and knot her and make her mine.

“Bold, Lisane,” he told me, sitting up, smacking my ass again with an open palm, moving to stand behind me.

I’d leaned forward on the table with her at first, to judge just what she could take of me,

her legs and much tighter hole between her ass cheeks. I’d been strongly tempted to fall forward on my knees, spread her wide, and taste her.

I could read the lines of her body as she tried to ride through the pain, to find places inside herself to put it, until she couldn’t take it and she overflowed— And that was when the desk cracked.

I suppose I should’ve been glad it didn’t decide to hurt me instead—but if my final death was beating a beautiful woman’s ass red, I was prepared to go. It would’ve been an ignoble death, for a noble cause.

I’d been hard the whole time I’d been spanking her, of course—how could I not be?—and I ached still.

One set of golden eyes opened, pupils slit like a cat’s, then another, and another, wrapping around its head. By then, I was screaming, sitting up, then hissing from the pain. “Hello, princess!” the creature announced, waving my panic down with two limber legs.

“His name is Finx. He made you that,” he said, pointing a fork in my direction, before waving it up and down. I stood there, trembling. “What is he?” “A cross between a spider and a cat. And I gave him the voice of a ten-year-old boy,”

He picked up a piece of what looked like bacon from his plate, and tossed it across the room. Finx chased it, skittering with all eight legs, batting it even further out, then pounced, crunching on it loudly.

“He is the first thing I made when I tried alone—no, I take that back—he was the first thing I made that lived. So do not practice your powers without me from here on out, you may not be so lucky as to make yourself a reasonably charming spider-cat.”

The temptation to cut her loose, shove her forward, and make her scream for different reasons wound inside me like a snake, and made the piercing at the head of my cock chafe against my pant-leather.

“Do not break my bed without me in it, woman.

There was a rope tied beneath my breasts, and beneath my arms, and then again to something behind my back.

I brought the fabric up to my face without thinking, breathing it in as an animal might, not just with my nose, but with my mouth slightly open, like I could not only inhale her but taste her too.

I twisted my head and forced my beast down, letting the sheer silk trace against the skin of my cheek, wishing that it were her hand instead.

I was very, very full of . . . something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Life seemed possibly too meaningful, and power seemed too strident, and wasn’t even maybe what I wanted. No, what I wanted was to matter.

Her eyes were as virgin as her body. It made me want to take her and teach her more than magic, but I knew that would be impossibly selfish and cruel.

“I am Vethys, your betrothed, here to save you!” he said, mystified at my reaction. “Go away!” I shouted at him, but there was no magic in me right now. “I don’t want to be saved!”

“Finx!” I sat up instantly, gasped in pain, and flung my arms out for him regardless. “I saw him hit you!” He jumped onto the table by my side. “Did you see me bite him first?” “Yes—I did—it was glorious.”

He wanted to rip her skirt, spread her legs and enter her—he wanted to hear her cry out as he thrust, to feel the snug tightness of her cunt as he made her fit him—and he wanted to fuck her until he came and knotted her, then crouch down after his knot subsided, to lick his cum and her virgin blood away until she was ready for him again.

Everything he did frightened me. I never wanted him to stop.