Since they left Edo, their journey had been less of a steady trek and more of a relentless struggle against nature. Each day was a clash with muddy trails and pounding rain, as though the storms were deliberately trying to drown their progress. Kagome did her best to keep dry, but no matter what she tried, the rain seeped in. Even Sesshoumaru, usually pristine, had succumbed—his silver hair clinging damply to his shoulders, his silks and fur bearing the dullness of unrelenting wetness.
But it wasn't only the storm that weighed on Kagome. The real burden was Naraku's voice, which, stirred up by Miroku and Kaede's spiritual probing, had returned with a fierce full of spite and bitterness. Whenever she felt a moment's peace, his words slithered into her mind, mocking her mistakes, twisting her doubts, taunting that Sesshoumaru was only keeping her around as a temporary amusement and would discard her once her usefulness ended.
A week ago, those words would have sunk deep, cracking her resolve. But now, she saw Naraku's venom for what it was—frantic, hollow threats from someone losing control. She could almost feel his desperation, and that alone strengthened her. She wasn't running or hiding from him anymore. She was set on ridding herself of him once and for all.
At least, that was the plan. It would have been easier if they'd found better shelter along the way, but night after night they huddled under trees or squeezed into crumbling huts, cold and damp. Naraku's constant attacks wore her patience thin, making every passing day feel longer. On the fifth day, when the skies finally cleared, they flew over the land, basking in the brief reprieve from the storm's relentless downpour.
However, dark clouds began gathering once more. Sesshoumaru spotted an abandoned wolf's den tucked into a cliffside cave, and Kagome nearly cried in relief at the sight of a dry, sheltered refuge.
Once they descended and stepped inside, Sesshoumaru set her and their packs down before surveying the space. He aired out the old pelts left behind, draping them outside to rid the cave of its stale, musty scent. Meanwhile, Kagome grabbed her pack and found a shallow pool at the back of the cave to wash up. Emerging refreshed, she slipped into a comfortable yellow dress, though it was shorter than she'd anticipated—she'd gladly take any dry clothing at this point.
Now that the den felt a bit more like shelter and less like a ruin, Sesshoumaru moved to where she was kneeling, tucking things away in her bag. Without warning, he lifted her effortlessly, ignoring her surprised gasp and the way her dress shifted higher as he carried her to the makeshift bed of his mokomoko. He laid her down with unexpected care.
"Rest. I'll prepare a fire," he said, moving to rise.
But her hand reached out, catching his, her fingers curling around his with a gentle but insistent hold. Her touch froze him. He hadn't expected her to stop him—and he certainly hadn't expected to be drawn back down, her silent request pulling him close. He settled in front of her and waited as her eyes met his, filled with something he hadn't seen in days: determination.
"A fire can wait," she signed, her hands moving with urgency. "I want to end this." She paused, tapping her neck meaningfully. "You said a bite could work as another method… Is it more effective?"
Her words were like a declaration, a line drawn in the sand. Sesshoumaru studied her, surprised by her resolve. This had all started as a tentative attempt to ease her spirit, but in the process, they'd uncovered a grim truth: Naraku's dark influence still clung to her, parasitic and unyielding, poisoning her reiki from within. The realization had shaken her, leaving her vulnerable and afraid to continue the treatment, worried about what further problems might emerge.
But now her fire was back, her fight rekindled. She looked at him as if he were the final answer she needed, the hope she'd been clinging to through endless, tormented nights.
Still, he hesitated. A bite would indeed be more effective, allowing a stronger flow of his energy into her. But it also came with significant risk. A bite wasn't just an exchange of power—it carried a mark, a subtle claim that would linger on her until she accepted a mate or was marked again by another demon of even greater strength. The thought of that, of another even touching her, was something he did not want to think about.
"It would work," he said at last, "but it carries consequences."
She nodded, eyes bright with unwavering trust as she reached up and pulled her hair up into a messy bun and let her fingers brush over the place on her neck she intended to offer him.
He leaned in close, his fingers were now tracing along the curve of her jaw. His instincts warred within him, part of him knowing he shouldn't make this mark, but another, darker side, wanting to protect her in a way that would leave no room for doubt whose pack she belonged to.
"If you are sure…" he signed as he subtly leaned closer.
When Kagome gave him one last nod of approval before he stood and began to remove his armor, an intensity underlying his actions made her heartbeat stumble. The metallic clink echoed in the cave as he set the armor aside, his gaze never straying until he knelt behind her.
"I'm ready," she whispered out loud so softly it barely broke the silence, yet she knew he would hear.
In response, he slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her back against him until she rested fully against his chest. The steady strength of his body radiated through her, warmth seeping through the thin fabric of her dress. Gently, he placed his other hand on her jaw, tilting her head up and to the side just so, exposing the tender curve of her neck.
The soft brush of his lips against her skin stole her breath, her pulse quickening under his mouth as he inhaled. A quiet growl escaped him as the faint scent of her arousal hit him causing a deep sound that sent a heated tremor through her. Sharp teeth grazed her skin, testing her, the brief touch sending a spark that made her whole body tense in anticipation.
Unable to resist any longer, Sesshoumaru sank his fangs into her soft flesh, The moment her blood hit his tongue, he was lost in the intoxicating taste. She tasted even more exquisite than he remembered and with every drop he consumed his hunger grew.
Kagome gasped, her body shuddering against his. The bite wasn't painful—at least not in the way she had feared. Instead, it sent waves of heat and pleasure through her, each surge more intense than the last. His hand moved from her jaw to wrap around her throat, holding her in place as he drank deeply from her and his tongue teasing the edges of the wound.
Her mind was a blur, overwhelmed by the sensations of his power surging into her bloodstream. Her body felt like it was on fire, the demonic energy mingling with her reiki in a chaotic, yet thrilling dance. She could feel the blockage in her dissolving and with it the last pieces of Naraku, but it was almost secondary to the pulse of need that was now throbbing between her legs.
Sesshoumaru's grip on her tightened as her scent intensified. She pressed back against him, her body instinctively seeking more contact, more of him. His hips responded in kind, rolling forward with the now hard length of him pressing against her ass. A growl rumbled low in his chest vibrating against her back, and Kagome moaned in response, clutching his forearms tightly as the hand on her neck tightened.
His beast was rising to the surface, its crimson gaze seeping into the whites of Sesshoumaru's eyes as she continued to rock back into him. Needing to feel a sense of dominance over the small priestess, he pushed her upper body forward and down onto mokomoko and pulled her dress up over her raised hips, exposing her bottom half completely. His hand moved from her neck and found its way between her trembling thighs, parting them enough to slide his long fingers against the damp fabric of her panties.
Kagome gasped as the unexpected touch caused her to buck beneath him. His fangs released her neck, and she whimpered at the loss, only for him to soothe the wound with his tongue, planting kisses along her throat. It didn't occur to her that this was no longer part of the treatment but instead, the demon seeking out his own desires.
As his fingers pressed against her swollen clit, Kagome's entire body shivered, teetering on the edge of oblivion. Every brush, every stroke, sent waves of pleasure rippling through her, tightening the coil inside her until she was a trembling mess in his arms. Her breaths turned to pleading whispers, her words like a spark against the low growl reverberating in Sesshoumaru's chest.
"Again… please," she begged, the need in her voice fueling the primal hunger deep within him.
Sesshoumaru's beast surged forward, savoring her surrender, her willingness to give herself over to him completely. With a pleased snap of his jaw, his fangs sank once more into her neck, marking her, binding them together in ways words couldn't. Her blood once again filled his mouth, an essence so pure it was almost euphoric. His aura poured into her in response, flooding her senses, merging with her energy in a way that was possessive, and all-consuming. Her body trembled under his, her gasps turning into helpless moans as her own aura tangled with his, amplifying every touch, every sensation.
But just as she began to feel herself unravel, as her cries grew more desperate, his fingers slipped away from her heat, leaving her on the edge. Kagome's breath hitched, her body arching instinctively toward him seeking the touch he'd stolen away. The sudden emptiness left her thighs trembling and a growl of frustration and need fell from her lips as she squirmed in his hold.
No longer feeling any obstruction in the flow of her reiki, Sesshoumaru withdrew his fangs and watched her, his gaze devouring every reaction. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips parted with needy gasps—she was utterly at his mercy, and he reveled in it. His hand dropped to the sash at his waist, untying it slowly, while his eyes never left her. Despite the urge to fuck her roaring within him, he clung to a fragile thread of control, savoring her anticipation, her desperation. But that control was slipping fast with the sound of her every breath, every pleading look unraveling him.
Kagome's groans turned to soft whimpers, her thighs shifting as she waited, her body drawn so tight that every second felt like an eternity. Then, finally, she felt him—his warmth pressing against her, sliding slowly along the damp cotton covering her sensitive folds, the hardness of him stealing her breath.
A soft cry escaped her, and Sesshoumaru snarled in response as he gripped the outside of her thighs, his claws pressing just enough to hold her firmly in place. With each slow thrust, his length pressed against her hitting her clit with maddening precision. Kagome's moans grew louder, her voice barely coherent as she gasped his name.
Sesshoumaru continued his slow, relentless rhythm, his hips rolling against her with an intensity that bordered on torturous. Each thrust built the tension inside her higher, sending her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. Kagome's hands clenched into the thick fur beneath her, her head tipping back as she surrendered completely, her body a symphony of soft, gasping cries.
His grip on her thighs tightened, claws grazing her skin and leaving marks, anchoring her as her moans became breathy whispers. Sesshoumaru's control frayed as he took in the sight of her—so open, so utterly his in this moment. He picked up his pace, his movements growing rougher his own desire pushing him to the edge. The warmth radiating from her core, the slickness of her skin, and the way her thighs clung to him drove him wild and he surrendered to his primal urges, each thrust more powerful, more desperate than the last.
Finally, with one final surge, he pressed against her, feeling her shudder as the tension within her broke. Her body convulsed in pleasure, her cries echoing in the cave as she came, every inch of her shaking. The intoxicating scent of her release filled his senses, a rich, inviting fragrance that triggered his own release. A guttural groan escaped his blood-stained lips and with a powerful shudder he spilled his seed, the hot release marking her skin as he gripped her, every pulse of his climax drawing a shiver from him.
Breathless and trembling, Sesshoumaru braced himself over her, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from the rush, his senses swimming in the lingering heat of their passion. He watched her beneath him, her lashes fluttering, her cheeks flushed as she fought to catch her breath. A possessive thrill swept through him at the sight, knowing she had been completely undone by his touch alone.
His darkened amber eyes traced the marks he'd left on her—the faint indents from his claws on her thighs and the deeper, crimson bite on her neck that pulsed with his lingering energy. It was an unmistakable sign, binding her to him in ways Kagome likely hadn't yet realized.
As his breathing steadied, Sesshoumaru leaned back slightly, watching as her body went slack, her limbs loosening until she collapsed into the softness of the fur. Her breathing slowed, softening into the quiet rhythm of sleep, her expression peaceful and a serene smile lingering on her lips. Draped in the aftermath of their shared intensity, she looked ethereal, her beauty touched by the faint glisten of the setting sun seeping through the cave entrance.
Sesshoumaru sat beside her, captivated. Gently, he tucked himself away and tied his hakama back into place, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on the small red mark on her neck. He reached out, his fingers grazing the bite mark with an almost reverent touch, feeling the energy that radiated from it. Already, he could sense her powers stirring, renewing with a vitality that had been absent for so long. The barriers that had dulled her senses and inhibited her strength were beginning to dissolve, his own energy feeding into her, healing what had been broken.
The realization of what he had done was now settling over him: he had marked her. This wasn't just a bite to heal; it was a claim, a silent warning to any other males who dared approach her. A primal satisfaction filled him at the thought. For so long, he had been the master of his own actions and emotions, but something about this—about her—stirred instincts that lay deep within him. Possession, protectiveness, a fierce desire to keep her safe; it all blended into a singular feeling that refused to be ignored.
His hand moved to her jawline, his thumb grazing her cheek with a tenderness he hadn't known himself capable of. Her expression was soft in her sleep, lips parted as she dreamed, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was strange, this tug of care and gentleness, the unbidden need to shield her from every harm and danger that the world might throw her way. But there was a shadow to the satisfaction that settled in his chest—a reminder that though he had marked her, she was not truly his.
The thought that someday she might choose another, that she might walk away from this bond, left a hollow ache inside him. He wasn't accustomed to wanting something he could not keep, and the dull throb of it left was unsettling. But here, in this quiet, stolen moment, with her lying peacefully in the sanctuary of his presence, Sesshoumaru allowed himself to indulge in the illusion that she belonged with him.
As the last rays of the setting sun crept into the cave, casting soft, golden shadows over her sleeping form, Sesshoumaru lowered her dress back into place concealing the evidence of his desire covering her soft belly. Laying beside her he wrapped an arm around Kagome's small waist and pulled her back against his chest. Tonight he would forgo the fire and use his own body heat to keep her warm.