“I don’t have to like it,” Bastien said, claws scoring deep furrows in the obsidian.
“None of us like it,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. My legs trembled with exhaustion, but I forced them to steady. “But she needs someone there. Someone to protect her until we can return.”
Marcel nodded, his massive horned head dipping in that disturbingly human gesture that reminded me of who he’d been before the curse. Who we’d all been. “The prince saw us in the dreamscape. He knows what we are to her.”
“And he still wants her,” Bastien snarled, already starting up the newly formed slope, his dark mane bristling with agitation. “Human arrogance. They always think they can take what isn’t theirs.”
I shared a glance with Marcel before we followed. Three princes climbing an endless mountain in a hell dimension,arguing about a fourth prince who dared to want our mate. The absurdity of it almost made me laugh. Almost.
“She’s not a possession,” I reminded Bastien, my claws finding purchase on the treacherous surface. “She chose us. She can choose him too.”
Bastien didn’t respond, but his tail lashed behind him in agitation as we continued our relentless ascent. The claiming mark on my shoulder pulsed with each step, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Isabeau was growing into her power. I could feel it even across the barrier between dimensions. Her magic was evolving, becoming more controlled, more refined.
“Something’s different,” Marcel said suddenly, pausing mid-climb. His nostrils flared, scenting the air as if he could smell changes in the magic itself. “She’s—”
The sensation hit without warning. A wave of pleasure so intense it drove me to my knees, claws scrabbling for purchase on the obsidian. Heat exploded through my body, centered on the claiming mark but radiating outward in pulses that matched the rhythm of Isabeau’s desire.
“Fuck,” Bastien gasped, collapsing nearby, his massive body convulsing with each new wave. “What is she—”
“She’s with him,” Marcel managed, his words choked and strangled as he too fell to the mountainside. “They’re—she’s—”
Like him, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Could only feel as Isabeau’s pleasure flowed through our bond like liquid fire. Every sensation she experienced transmitted directly to us through the claiming mark. The weight of a man’s body pressing her into softness. The stretch and fill as he entered her. The building pressure of impending release.
My cock slid from its sheath without conscious thought, hardening instantly against my belly. The fur around it was already damp with pre-cum, my body responding to stimulifrom another dimension. Beside me, my brothers were in similar states, their bodies betraying them as surely as mine betrayed me.
“Deary me,” I groaned, unable to stop my paw from moving to my length, gripping it with a desperation that would have shamed me in any other circumstances. “I can feel everything she feels.”
Through the haze of shared pleasure, I caught Marcel’s eye. His face was contorted in a mixture of ecstasy and conflict, his own massive cock jutting proudly from its sheath. “The claiming bond,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “It’s...evolved.”
Bastien made a sound somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his cock in frantic strokes against the ground as he rolled his hips to continue. “I can’t…I can’t stop—”
I understood. None of us could stop. The pleasure rushing through the bond was too intense, too immediate to resist. As Isabeau’s desire built, so did ours, our bodies slaves to sensations from another world.
Without conscious decision, my form began to shift. Fur receding, limbs elongating, muzzle shortening into a face that was neither fully human nor beast. The hybrid form—the shape I’d worn when I’d first climbed this mountain. My brothers shifted with me, their bodies responding to the same primal urge.
The obsidian beneath us cut into skin now more vulnerable than before, but the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure coursing through us. My large cock grew larger with the shift, more human in appearance but still bearing the ridges and flared head of my wolf form. Pre-cum leaked freely from its tip, easing the slide of my hand as I stroked myself in rhythm with Isabeau’s movements.
“She’s fucking him,” Bastien snarled, his voice more human now but still rough with need. His hybrid form was the mostbestial of us three, his mane fuller, his teeth sharper. “Taking him inside her.”
“And she’s sending it to us,” Marcel added, his own hybrid form the most elegant. Still massive but with a grace the rest of us lacked. “Sharing it with us.”
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations flooding through the bond. I could feel everything, even the prince’s cock stretching her, filling her in ways that made her gasp with pleasure. He wasn’t our size, but his girth made her scream all the same.
The pressure building at her core, that tightening spiral that preceded release. The weight of his body over hers, his hands on her breasts, kneading and squeezing in a way that sent lightning through her veins.
Through it all, I felt her awareness of us. Not just as distant mates, but as present participants in this act. She knew we could feel her. Knew we were experiencing her pleasure as our own. And somehow, impossibly, she was reaching for us across the barrier, drawing us into this moment with her and the prince.
“Fuck,” Bastien groaned, his pace increasing as Isabeau’s pleasure built. “She’s close. So close.”
My own hand matched his urgency, stroking faster as the pressure mounted. We were linked now, all four of us. Three beasts and a prince connected through Isabeau’s magic and the claiming bond that tied us together. I could feel Alain’s presence, his essence seeping through the barrier as surely as Isabeau’s pleasure flowed to us.
When her release came, it shattered all conscious thought. The wave crashed through the bond with such force that I arched backward, a howl tearing from my throat as my cock pulsed in my hand. Hot seed erupted from me, painting my chest and stomach in thick stripes. Beside me, my brothers found theirrelease simultaneously, their cries of pleasure echoing against the obsidian mountain.
But it wasn’t over. Through the claiming bond, I felt Isabeau’s body grip the prince, holding him inside her as his own release approached. Felt her demand his seed, her body drawing it from him with primal certainty.
“She’s claiming him,” Marcel gasped between shuddering breaths, his cock still twitching with aftershocks. “Making him hers.”
“No,” Bastien protested weakly, though his body still trembled with shared pleasure. “He can’t be—”
