He felt the approach of another, a human, and her scent reached him even in the still air of the forest. He was deep within his meditation, a state of absolute immobility that had taken him nearly two days to achieve. His mind had been locked in a hard fought place of quiet frustration – tranquility had proved unattainable even to him. There, deep inside himself and protected by a barrier of his youki, he was snapped into awareness by the subtle fragrance of carnations and dogwood. The scent, he was familiar with it and it gave rise to a tangle of emotions he had long labeled as irritated respect, broke the tenuous peace he had found and brought the agony of his body to his attention.
He still could not move, his muscles purposefully frozen to prevent himself from acting on the burn in his veins and doing something he would regret. He managed to lift his eyelids a fraction, but they would go no further. Still, it was enough to see the Shikon priestess as she stumbled out of the bushes. Her shoes were scuffed and dusty, but the rest of her was clean. He had come to expect that. She seemed to only have two states of being: freshly washed and covered in gore from Inuyasha's latest kill. She vastly preferred clean, and was willing to work hard to get that way – unlike most humans. That did not stop the urge to strangle her from rising as she spoke, "Sesshomaru?"
Her voice was quiet, not the shrill scream she used for the hanyou, or the soft, smiling words she spoke to her human companions or the kit. Since they had become allies – only a short time ago, it seemed to him – she had used such a tone with him. Low, strong, and respectful. He had approved of it, as he had approved of her more modest clothing. The indecent skirt she had worn before had disappeared since Naraku's defeat to be replaced with garments that, while not appropriate compared to what other females wore, were still a vast improvement. Her thighs were at least covered, although her bare calves under a longer skirt or the curve of her bottom in strangely tight pants still drew lecherous stares, he had noticed and appreciated her attempt at modesty.
Such clothing was not in evidence as she stepped closer, ignoring the barrier of youki he had created to repel other creatures as if it did not exist. Soft pants, if they could be called that, stopped only a few inches past the top of her legs. A thin blue shirt, paler than her eyes, with narrow straps hugged her breasts and did not quite meet her waistband, exposing a strip of pale skin when she moved. A robe of darker blue hung open from her shoulders, the thin, attached obi hung uselessly to drag on the ground. "Sesshomaru?" she called softly again.
Her concern only added to the way the sight of her angered him. He had no control over his body, but his mind was calling her every kind of fool for ignoring the warning of his barrier. He was not sure what it was about her that allowed her to pass, but he would find out once he had regained control of himself and it would not happen again. Another step closer and sweet flowers and ripe berries whispered on the air between them. His blood boiled, raging against the constraints he had placed on it.
Every twenty-five years his blood felt the call. Every quarter-century since he had come into adulthood he spent one moon cycle fighting against his instincts, fighting the blood that flamed under his skin and tried to overtake his good judgment. Only three times had he intentionally given in. Always in situations carefully selected and controlled by him. The first had been instructional and therapeutic. The second diverting and cathartic, but then she had attempted to become impregnated, violating their agreement – as if her devious actions would not be noticed. He was forced to burn his seed from her with acid, and it left him disgusted with his own lack of control. The third, several centuries later, had been poorly chosen. The bitch had attempted to mark him. She did not survive.
After that, he had determined that he would spend such unfortunate times far from any other living thing. It had grown increasingly difficult over the last century to ignore his instincts. During his last heat, he found that – although he was loathe to lower himself to try – he could not even ease his own pain. He had lost his reason to his beast for the last few days and had nearly assaulted a young youkai female. After such an experience, he had prepared himself for the next heat. He trained his body and mind to enter a deep state of meditation – a fashion of hibernation that would keep his desires impotent and without the ability to take action. A barrier of his energy would protect his body from assault, and he carefully chose a location that was considered holy by most demons. It was anathema to their kind and unlikely to be stumbled upon.
Rin had been left with supplies, Ah-Un, and his retainer They were close enough to Edo that she could seek help from the humans there if necessary. He would never admit, even to himself, that he trusted his half-brother to protect his ward, but he had intentionally set her camp within Inuyasha's forest.
All of that planning and preparation. A day of flying from his pack to this spot in the forest. Two days of meditating to reach a state where he could control his instincts. So much effort – wasted. He could already sense his beast beginning to work on the barriers placed around it. It would take time, perhaps several hours, before his blood had free reign, but then he doubted he would be able to cage it again. He almost hoped he would be free before the woman was frightened away. Perhaps he could kill her for her stupidity before he found a youkai female. If he committed rape, he would lay the blame at the miko's feet. Foolish girl.
"Are you injured?" She stepped closer, and he could smell the sake on her breath. The hot taste of it washed down his nose and throat, followed by her natural sweet scent and he hated her. Hated that his body, which had been eager for the heat since before he had begun his meditation, surged to life at the scent and sound of her. Unfortunately, one female seemed to be as good as another, as far as his blood was concerned. Human or not, the girl was present. Even if she had been swaddled in clothing and crying with fear, it would not have mattered. He realized grimly that he had overestimated himself. She was female and had a pulse. That would be enough.
"Can you hear me, Sesshomaru?" She sank down on her knees before him, her legs inches from his. The concern on her face and in her scent was unavoidable. Something unfamiliar – guilt, he wondered, and then pushed that thought aside – plagued him. He would devour her if she stayed nearby, and he was aware that she did not deserve that. She was foolish, naive and a little drunk. She was also ridiculously brave, loyal, and surprisingly intelligent. She did not deserve rape, and most likely death, at his hands. He struggled to work up a growl to frighten her away, but his voice would not obey him.
"I'm-" she swallowed hard and he watched her throat work, the smell of anxiety, but not fear, leeching into her scent. "I'm just going to look for your wounds. Okay?" She watched him intently, and when he was not able to respond worry overcame her scent and she reached for his hands. She tried to remove his clawed fingers from his thighs, but his stiff muscles would not allow it. She muttered to herself, or perhaps him, he could not be certain, as she instead stroked along each arm, pushing up his sleeves as she went. "No blood, that must be good...unless it's not...internal injury..." She reached his shoulders with cool fingers and then withdrew. Next she carefully slipped her small hands behind his neck, leaning forward over his lap to feel his spine from the top of his armor, over the collar of his kimono, ghosting across the skin of his neck and into his hair. Her dull nails had a light touch on his scalp and he could not help but inhale her scent. The sensations combined to have his beast tugging at its restraints and licking its lips in anticipation. Her fingertips found his ears and stroked down the outer edges, tracing his markings. Even his rational mind forgot for a moment that she was an inferior human who should fear him and instead wondered how the sensation could be made more enjoyable. Perhaps if she used her tongue.
Her whispered instructions to herself brought him out of his lapse in judgment. Her hands traced his collar bones and sternum until she met his bone armor. "Not moving...fracture...no...would have to be more serious...compound break..." She sat back on her heels and her hands moved to his feet. He did not understand some of her words, but it was clear she felt she would find a physical injury that could be healed. For both their sakes, he hoped she would not be so close – or anywhere within scenting distance – when his malady made itself known. Her eyes darted up to his again. "I'm sorry Sesshomaru, but I need to take off your boots. Is that okay?" He could not refuse her permission, and he doubted if she would have listened in any case. Stubborn woman.
She removed his boots and socks, then had the audacity to loosen the ties at the ankles of his pants. Her palms slid up his calves, leaving a stimulating chill in their wake, and he became aware of something else in her scent. A tart smell of embarrassment and something thicker. He could not place it immediately, and was aware that he had never been near her when she smelled that way before. It wrapped around his tongue, bringing his taste buds to attention before sinking down into his belly where it mixed with the heat that already plagued him. Her palms reached as high as his bent knees before she withdrew and studied him with concern. Her sake flush had spread from her cheeks to her slender neck, and his beast whispered to him that he could make it extend even further.
"Punctured lung? Bruised liver...Inuyasha nearly died..." He felt a growl building without any encouragement from him at his half-brother's name on her lips. His logical mind wanted to groan in frustration. If his beast could not stand the thought of her speaking of another male, Sesshomaru doubted it would let her leave before it had taken her for its own. "He is so much stronger though...would Sesshomaru even notice injuries that lay Inuyasha out for a day?" He did not have time to consider how the comparison between himself and his brother swelled his ego. Her question ended with a sudden movement to sit at his side. She nearly fell over, in her tipsy state misjudging the distance. She crashed into him and the press of her curves against his arm sent his blood screaming. From the corner of his eye he watched her sway and press one hand to her head. "Never again, Kagome," she whispered. Her face was close enough to his that her breath stroked across his jaw. Sake and sweet flowers.
It took a few moments for her to regain her composure, and then her hands were on his armor. She hesitated briefly before ducking her head to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry a human has to touch you, Sesshomaru, I know you don't like it. But I will figure out what is wrong and help you." Her determination was clear, and if he had been capable he might have closed his eyes in frustration. He did not want to hurt the miko, but the longer she stayed, the more likely it was he would lose all control. It was clear to him that his beast had scented a female it was interested in, and interest came closer to obsession with each touch of her hands and inhale of her scent. All because she could not bear to leave him if he was hurt. Perplexing, stubborn woman.