What Comes Before Love - Chapter 1: Instinct

The celebration was an assault on the senses. Hundreds of bodies meandered throughout the camp, excitedly chattering among themselves and preparing for the main event. Food and drink were being passed around for a modest fee, and the smell of freshly cooked meats tempted her with their delicious aroma. Yet there was one smell that called to her even more, and she knew this would be her only chance. Her keen sense of smell could pick up and differentiate between dozens of scents, and it was only a matter of time before she tracked down her pray through the crowd.

It wouldn’t have been difficult to find regardless. The calling of the auctioneers rose above the rest of the camp noise. A large clearing had been made in the center of camp with the goods on display in orderly rows. It was here that her nose led her, she just needed to navigate the crowd and find it.

The recent incursion appeared to have been a remarkable success. An entire company of human soldiers had been routed with very little loss of life on either side. The new prisoners were chained to posts in an orderly fashion, blindfolded, and kept placid under the influence of calming magic. While she didn’t care for such magic, such precautions were deemed necessary after several tragedies involving humans that gone mad with fear.

She had been searching for a male of her own for several years, but they were in short supply where she had been born. Mother willing, she wouldn’t be alone ever again after tonight. A quick prayer under her breath, and she entered the auction.

Several auctioneers called to her as she passed, each promising the man of her dreams.

“A fine specimen!” a succubus shouted, waving a hand over a man to highlight some aspect of his physique.

“Imagine his stamina!” called a minotaur, making suggestive motions with her hips.

She ignored them all, focusing on following the strengthening scent that had so ensnared her mind. She was close, and in her eagerness began to roughly shove through the crowd. Some of those she pushed past ignored her, equally intent on their own prey. A few readied themselves for a brawl, but upon looking at her wisely decided that their energy was better left to enjoying the celebration.

At last she found him, quivering pathetically in his chains. Handsome, yet plain. The sort of man who could be a soldier as easily as bread-maker or scholar. His smell was wafting through her nose, but now that she found him, the overpowering urging of her instincts had subsided. Though he wouldn’t be able to see her, she was unable to suppress a gentle smile.

Unfortunately as she reached out a paw to caress him, she failed to notice the nearby attendant’s sudden alarm, or the shout of warning.

Her touch was met with an immediate and violent reaction. His chains rattled as his body attempted to throw himself away from her touch, but only succeeding in his back and head colliding with the pole behind him. The unmistakable smell of pain and fear began to assault her nose as he shook and cried, and she was frozen in shock at his reaction.

“Can’t touch this one,” came an annoyed voice from behind her. “Look what you’ve done, I had just managed to get him quiet.”
She whipped around to the demoness behind her, causing the attendant to take a step back in shock.

“What did you do to him?” she snarled. “Why isn’t he calm like the others?”

“I didn’t do anything!” came a fearful reply.  “He’s resistant to our charm magic. Any stronger of a charm and he’s likely to end up a vegetable.”

The blue woman seemed to shrink under the fire of her gaze. A reaction that would normally be quite satisfying under different circumstances.

“L-look I can help a bit, but it won’t last long! I’m not kidding, any more manipulation and his mind might not recover.”

Edging around her, the attendant reached out a hand, and began to lightly brush the shaking man’s cheek. The girl continued this for a few moments, making quiet soothing sounds as she did. Despite the unpleasant feeling in her gut at seeing another woman be so intimate with her soon-to-be mate, she grudgingly admitted that the attendant’s attention did seem to be having a small effect. The shaking and crying at least stopped, and the smell of terror subsided somewhat.

She allowed herself a long sigh of relief before a quick prayer of thanks. A proper tribute would have to be payed tonight. She smiled to herself as she imagined the future she and her new mate would have together, and the pleasure she would have turning this terrified soldier into her pleasure slave.

After snarling at a nearby manticore that was entirely too interested in her man, she turned back to the smug looking demoness.

“I saw the way you looked at him,” the woman purred. “I know a chosen pair when I see it.”

She growled only half-heartedly in reply, trying to suppress the faint blush creeping into her cheeks. Her image must be preserved after all.

The smug bitch only looked more amused.

“Now before we talk price, why don’t you tell me what a Hellhound wants with a man like this. You could claim any man here, stronger or braver, yet you choose this one. Why?”

How could she possibly put it into words? The Mother and Eros had gifted her and all Mamono with a heart to feel love, but for now she acted only on instinct, and instinct wasn’t beautiful. There was no poetry in blind desire. Yet she knew there could be no other, so she merely shrugged.

“He’s the one.”