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I've probably been playing too much Horizon Zero Dawn, but I really dig the whole 'post-apocalyptic royalty' thing. History is cyclical, y'know?

Prince Maximillian of the North was the first of his name. His father had departed tradition to call him something different, a new title, and that was how he felt sometimes; cast apart from it all.

As firstborn he was to take the throne someday, but he was young still, twenty and a day, with time remaining for lessons and drills before the rigors of royalty would be pressed upon him.

His yearly naming ceremony had been the previous day. He had affirmed that he was part of the family, a coming link in the chain of rulers that had kept the North together for a century and a half now. Of the beaten iron that the past rulers seemed to be made of, cast as their likenesses were upon the walls of the chapel where the function had been performed...Maximilian felt apart.

Would he be strong enough? Would he lead well and be remembered? Would his own face be cast and added up there for future kings and queens to glance anxiously up at as they listened to the promise of their duties?

...Or would he be the one to let it fall apart? Would his be the link to splinter beneath the strain and let the old days of chaos and ravening barbarism return?

The chapel's Master, a wolf like all those of the Northern royal family, a great-uncle who had given up his chance at the throne to serve the divine some decades before, had framed Maximilian's face with his paws and pressed his thumbs over the young wolf's closed eyes.

_'Are you worthy of your place?' _ The Master had asked, and there in the darkness, cut off from all else, ears pinned back and body held low in respect, he had...

He had said yes, and yes again...and again and again, until he felt that he believed it, the repetition driving all doubt and nuance from his mind. The Master had released him and drawn a powerful sign that seemed to glow in the air for just a moment (had it really, or had his eyes been playing tricks upon him?), then released him to affirm his place in the world upon the strength of his own actions.

It still seemed to tingle upon his eyelids, the faint prickle of the Master's claws, a promise that unworthiness would be punished. But he had not, he had done nothing that could be punished.

There was frost upon the ground, tracing the tufts of dead winter grass and the strange, jagged topography of the frozen mud he walked upon. Behind him, if he cared to look, he'd see the stone walls of the inner keep rising to meet an iron gray sky. He was in the outer stretches of the royal castle now, a stretch of open ground ringed by low walls, just as tall as him. They were meant to slow. To be used to corral enemies to places they could be managed more easily. He had learned their function so long ago that their purpose seemed immutable and obvious now. Like the slate gray permanence of the sky or the slow regularity of the tide.

This was where training took place, in a space where the openness was absolute and nothing existed to get in the way. Shield walls could be formed here, advances run and lectures made to officers. The cold could be embraced and allowed to become part of oneself, so nobody in service to the North would balk or shiver or complain at any hour of the day or night if called to service.

Every so often there were little stone obstacles, pickets and walls for soldiers to clamber over, ropes for them to climb up, but it was still too early for drills to be running, the sun remained a silvery promise on the far horizon, its full potential still blocked by the outer wall.

His place was tucked there, specially cleared and floored with gravel rather than mud. A water barrel sat to one side, its surface rimed with ice. Maximilian went there, gravel crunching beneath his paws, and broke the ice with the wooden dipper that hung from the side of the barrel on a frost trimmed rope. He cleared the shards away, smoothing a space in the center where only water was.

And there he manifested, reflection becoming clearer. Black fur trimmed with silver on the front, amber eyes and whiskers kept straight and clean. There was the rabbit fur ruff of his cloak, the iron clasp at his throat stamped with the royal seal. And, beneath that, just a hint of leather training armor.

Even as he got a drink, a curl of cold dipping into the very center of him, seeming to conspire with the world's chill, the prince felt his ear twitch, a sort of tingle running through his fur. He dropped the dipper and turned sharply to one side, letting water patter to the ground.

There, coming around the far side of the weapons rack that stood next to the barrel, was a tigress.

Lady Katherine was not of the North, but she had served it long enough for Maximilian to nearly forget her foreignness. Indeed she came from elsewhere, some nameless place that had no location or story. Still, she spoke the North's tongue and wore both its colors and scars suffered in service to it.

Her fur was bright even in the slowly dissipating dimness of the early morning, her fur still seeming to have been set afire. That had been his first impression of her when she'd come to the court, fresh to Northern service, hard eyed and straight backed even then, clad in padded armor that was patched and worn, a colorless and crackly cloak of old-worldy plasticks clinging to her back. She was ablaze, the flames contained only by the stripes of purest black that girded her like bars on a cage. Otherwise, he had thought, she might explode forth and consume the entire world.

But there had been no fear to come with that thought. Even then, as a child, he had not been afraid of her. Even as his father carefully assessed her qualities and spoke in low tones with his advisors. Even as the court shifted in muted dismay, scandalized by just how...foreign she was.

He had wanted to go forward and touch her, to see if her fur emitted heat, if she was something like a furnace. Would sparks drift free from her mouth when she spoke? But, as badly as he wanted to, he had sat in place and acted the dutiful son. He had squinted and examined and mimicked every faintly suspicious motion his father made...until at last he decided to accept her service.

She had set to training him a year later, just after his eleventh naming ceremony, where he had stammered that he was worthy, tail all but tucked between his legs. He had traipsed to a corner of the outer wall, walking uncertainly over the gravel, and been surprised and delighted to see the tigress there before him.

She had seemed as tall as the world then, clad in leather training armor, tail swishing slowly behind her. He had wanted to ask her a thousand questions but she had moved deliberately forward and knocked him to the ground before he could.

His helmet, ill fitting, bounced off and clacked to a halt against the water barrel, Maximilian lying flat on his back, caught completely off guard.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, sitting up. He wasn't hurt, the armor had protected him from scrapes and bruises, but he felt weirdly shaken. The tigress had been a unique presence in the castle for the past year. He had endeavored to catch glimpses of her whenever he could...but now, the moment he finally came face to face, she had-

Stepping forward, the tigress placed one foot deliberately on Maximilian's chest and pressed him back against the ground until he wheezed, frightened tears coming to his eyes.

"What are you going to do?" She asked. Her accent was strangely neutral, like it might have belonged to one place a long time ago but had since been softened and blurred by years of travel.

He tried to grab her foot and twist it off of him, but Katherine maintained the pressure, not seeming to even feel the little prince's desperate efforts...even as his claws scratched and scraped, clawing out tufts of her fur.

Finally, he lay back, gasping for breath, eyes bright with tears, a helpless sort of anger boiling up within him. He sniffled, taking shallow little breaths, trembling with outrage.

"I'm gonna tell my father," he huffed, jabbing a trembling finger at her, "and he's gonna cut your head off!"

One of the tigress' eyebrows twitched upwards a fraction. She seemed amused.

"When you're king," she said, "your father wont be there to protect you."

Maximilian blinked hard. There was a simple sort of truth to that he hadn't really considered before. He had thought about being king, quite a lot really, but somehow the prerequisites of the station hadn't come along for the ride. Of course his father would have to be...

The thought was so dreadful it took the rest of his breath away. He lay limp on the gravel, feeling a tear cut through the sable fur on one side of his face. He said nothing, his anger completely extinguished.

"You'll have to fight your own battles once you're king," the tigress continued, "and in order to do that, it's important you know what it's like to feel powerless."

"Why?" He asked, voice faint.

"Because otherwise you might think it can't happen to you," she let her foot off of his chest and stepped away, as though nothing had happened, "now get up."

He'd gotten up, fearful that the tigress was about to knock him over again, but instead she'd just handed his helmet back.

So his lessons with Katherine had begun. He'd raced her around the castle walls, swum endless frigid laps in the nearby river and the placid waves of the nearest bay. He'd learned to make fires in the rain and set hunting traps. He'd learned to walk silently and detect when others were doing the same. And he'd learned to fight.

She'd trained him in swords and poles, axes and hammers, all blunt and wrapped in swathes of fabric in order to prevent real damage from being done. She'd taught him to use his armor to deflect a hit, and to go for the joints when facing steel shrouded enemies.

And the tigress had beaten him every time. He'd gone to bed many nights trembling with exhaustion, blood dripping from his nose, claws cracked and shoulders hunched. Beneath his fur he'd spent quite a lot of time mottled with bruises and limping more than walking. He'd hit her back, but she'd never so much as flinched, no matter how much punishment he offered back the tigress did nothing more than maybe offer the occasional smirk.

So she'd taught him how to think through the pain and aches. She'd taught him how to strip the bark from willow trees and boil it into tea. She'd taught him the names of plants that had healing properties and quizzed him endlessly on their varieties and respective usefulness. When he had protested that this was not princely work, she'd hit him even harder and then forbade him use any medicines he hadn't collected himself.

He'd learned without protest after that.

At times they'd gone on trips and treks across the land, endeavoring not to be seen by anyone. Maximilian had enjoyed these, it felt primal somehow, to be stripped down to nothing but a set of woolen peasant clothes and a plain steel dagger, then set loose to stalk across the moors, alone but for the tigress.

She had spoken about tracking and taught him the silhouettes of the birds in the sky. He had asked her once how she knew so much about the North if she was from the far reaches of elsewhere, but she had not answered. And he hadn't dared use royal privilege to force her to.

He was something other than crown prince when he was with her. His power survived intact, he thought, but it needn't be used. She wouldn't hurt him, not any more than training mandated, and anything he told her would be kept.

When they were away and upon the windswept highlands, alone but for the glint of old-world orbiters in the night sky and the squeak of bats, he'd spoken to her sometimes, of secrets and fears. And she'd offered bits of advice or, more often, an accepting sort of silence. But she was listening.

He'd come down with a bad fever on a trip like that once, just past his nineteenth naming ceremony. The tigress had taken him to a hollow when he was too weak to move and fetched him water and bitter, medicinal tea. He thought she might have curled up against him and sung in a purring foreign tongue at some point but his memories were vague and gossamery. It felt as though the very act of recollection made them weaker and even more immaterial.

"I'm sorry." He'd mumbled faintly, over and over again. He was to die, that felt certain, and the tigress would surely be blamed for the loss of the king's only son. He felt very afraid for her.

Had she kissed him, to silence his words and bid him rest?

He couldn't remember. Not for sure.

The trip back, when he was well enough to stagger home, had been a silent one. She had half carried him for quite a distance, and he had leaned into her warmth.

"You're on fire." He'd said to her at one point but wasn't sure why.

He had recovered, and they hadn't spoken much of that trip. Maximilian had once asked what had happened while he was fever dazed, but the tigress shrugged without any apparent interest and told him it was unimportant.

He had once come very close to asking if she had really kissed him, but the words froze on his tongue and he felt the insides of his ears color so intensely that he worried they would set alight. And, beyond that, he felt afraid. What would she think of him if it hadn't happened? What would it say about him that he had imagined such a thing?

Katherine stepped forward, until she was in front of the weapon rack, and selected a blunted hand and a half sword. Maximilian did the same, picking his own weapon. The practice swords were worn and dented, the blades slightly warped, but the thin burlap sheaths tied over the steel hid the imperfections well enough.

"Are you ready?" Katherine asked, looking along her blade, amber eyes flashing over to meet Maximilian's.

He nodded, and assumed a proper stance, both paws clasped tight over his blade's leather wrapped handle. The tigress examined his poise for a moment but didn't seem to find any issue with it. Her gaze was inscrutable from behind the visor of the helmet she wore.

Maximilian looked her over, searching for any sign of tension in her stance, a tightening of muscles, a sign she was about to strike. He was as tall as her now, but she'd lost none of that original sense of power. She still felt ready to incinerate the world, but for the moment her body language was relaxed.

Then she was taking a smooth step forward, keeping herself angled to the side, sword held in one paw. She was making herself a smaller target, putting him on the defensive. He accepted that state of affairs for the moment and met Katherine's exploratory jab, flicking it aside, taking care not to let his sword go too wildly astray. Overcompensating in blocking a strike could be lethal...and indeed the tigress was looping her blade back around into a slash that would have been better suited for a saber. It was aimed for his eyes, designed to make him flinch, but Maximilian simply took a step back and let the fabric sheathed blade flicker in front of him before he jabbed and forced the tigress away.

A good initial exchange, she was testing his reflexes. A skilled fighter sought to learn about their opponent even as they sparred, no matter if they were fighting that person for the first or thousandth time.

She was circling, putting her back to the open space, seeking to hem him in against the weapon rack and the water barrel. Maximilian circled as well, but against the grain, putting himself close to the tigress, who arrested her movement and feinted back. He'd forced her to abandon her plan...good. But the fight was still only beginning, he'd have to engage sooner or later. Simply countering an opponent's efforts was a sustainable way to fight, but only if you had the time to do it. And sooner or later the tigress would switch things up.

Still, he hung back for a moment, examining what the tigress had just done. She was being aggressive, still testing him but also trying to break through and bring him down.

He met a flash of her blade with his own, keeping her back. His reach was slightly longer than hers, so it was in his interests to keep her at arm's length. Not that he couldn't fight her if she got in close, but...

She changed the grip on her sword, one paw sliding forward to grip halfway along the blade. Maximilian knew what she was doing, the technique she'd adopted was designed to give her greater control over the tip of her blade. She'd spotted a hole in his defense and was going for a kill stroke. But where? His eyes? Groin?

Ah, she was going low, trying to slip under his blade. Maximilian made no effort to block her, it would be a wasted stroke, the tigress was too fast. Instead he twisted to the side, so hard he nearly threw himself off balance, the tip of Katherine's blade skating off of the leather piece protecting his left thigh.

He saw now. She'd been aiming for the juncture between his inner thigh and groin. There were arteries there, blood pulsing close to the surface. Had she hit then she'd have killed him, no doubt.

For a half second he was elated, he'd just dodged a killing stroke, then Katherine adjusted and rammed her shoulder into his stomach, a huff of breath exploding from Maximilian's mouth as he was knocked back a step. It didn't quite drive the wind from him but he felt a shocked sort of ache blossom in his center, a shortness of breath tugging at his lungs.

He twisted in turn, fingers scrabbling for the visor of the tigress' helmet, but she ducked her head, like a horse evading flies, and shoved harder against him.

She was strong, lean body banded with hard muscle, and she had an advantage in her pose, seeking to bulldoze him off of his feet. But even as she tried Maximilian was twisting away, leaving her with nothing but air to push. Turning, she jammed the tip of her blade hard against his ribs. It wasn't a killing stroke, indeed there was no way a sword blade could puncture plate, even with a hard head-on stroke, but it wasn't meant to be. She needed a bit of space.

Suddenly, though he knew it was an environment where the tigress otherwise thrived, Maximilian knew he needed to get in close. To keep the tigress pressed. She growled, a low menacing rumble that seemed to emanate from the very center of herself, eyes slitted with a grim sort of determination.

The thought had occurred to him before, but it came full force now. This was what Katherine looked like on the battlefield, when she was trying to kill someone. And though he knew she wouldn't hurt him, not really, it still sent a little chill through Maximilian.

Then he was plowing forward regardless, free paw grabbing hard onto the tigress' blade, forcing it against his side as he drove his own sword forward, aiming for Katherine's armpit. She twisted and it scraped off of her side, and suddenly they were face to face, the tigress ramming the top of her helmet into his, steel crashing against steel, Maximilian's visor squealing as a screw was sheared off.

It hung drunkenly from only one side of his helmet, leaving his face more or less exposed. Not good. For a moment he thought about drawing back, but knew he couldn't. To concede the close ground to the tigress would only encourage her. He had to keep fighting her here, if he played his cards right he could bring her to the ground, or take her sword away. He already had a paw on her blade, locking it against his side.

...But so did she.

Katherine forced her way in close, trying to hook a foot behind his ankle, but Maximilian forced her back with his chest, then bore in, driving her back. There was the wall, only a few yards away. If he could get her up against it-

Katherine twisted, gripping hard onto his sword-arm just above the elbow, and suddenly she was bringing him down, like a wild animal with its jaws locked into a deer. His legs trembled, then failed beneath him and suddenly he was on the ground, gravel squealing against the steel of his helmet, a sting expanding across one paw, which had just been ground into the stone. Still, he refused to let go, tucking one knee between himself and the tigress, trying to force her to let go of her blade. But the burlap sheath gave way before the tigress' grip did and suddenly she was tumbling back.

Maximilian fought his way to his feet, broken visor flapping drunkenly in front of his face, blood dripping from one paw, darkening the fabric sheath that covered the iron of his blade. He tossed the burlap sleeve that had covered the tigress' sword and looked to where she was picking herself up, breathing lightly, tail lashing behind her.

The battered steel of her dulled sword blade shone in the early morning light. Reaching down, Maximilian tore his own sheath free. Katherine nodded slightly, clearly approving, then started forward.

He snapped the burlap at her eyes, like he was holding a whip. The tigress ducked but her motion faltered for just a second and he was stabbing in, going once more for her shoulder, her arm, anything to cripple her ability to hold a blade. Recovering fast, Katherine blocked with her pauldron, driving in close to ram a knee between Maximilian's legs. Though he was wearing protection the force of the blow nearly lifted him from the ground. A growl working loose from deep in his throat, he locked the tigress' sword against his chest, the edge of her blade grating against the chin of his helmet, and hooked a leg behind hers. She did the same and once again they were staggering to the side.

They fell against the wall, Maximilian catching the side of his head against the stone. It nearly stunned him, his vision doubling for a moment before he twisted, forcing the tigress against the wall and trying to extricate his sword, which was pinned stubbornly against her side.

But she rolled against it and his grip was broken. But though a moment of panic darkened the corners of his vision, he knew the last thing he could do now was freeze up, not when he, in all other ways, had the advantage. Her blade was still trapped between them, her arm crooked at an odd angle. She hadn't the leverage to extract it. Not for the moment, anyway.

Cocking his armored fist back, Maximilian punched the tigress as hard as he could in the face. She leaned her head forward into it, bracing herself, the impact jittering up his arm. It was as though he'd just punched the wall behind her. Hooking his fingers into her visor, he tried to wrench it upwards, but then the tigress was pushing him back, and Maximilian felt her blade skitter free. She was holding it oddly, but she had a free weapon and he didn't.

He lunged for her arm, trying to wrench the sword free, and once more they were falling to the ground, but he'd done it, her blade was skittering away to join his. He was on his stomach now, the tigress next to him, her arm pinioned to the ground. For a frustrated moment both of them struggled, trying to gain some advantage from the position, then Maximilian shifted to the side, shoving Katherine's face against the gravel, stone squealing against steel, trying to pin her, face down, against the ground.

She bucked hard and he slipped, the tigress squirming under him, paws pressing against his chest, knees working between them. He had just enough time to grab hold of her visor before she shoved him off of her with her legs. He tumbled away, taking the tigress' helmet with him, Katherine jerking away, a paw flying up to the side of her face, where a tuft of striped fur had been torn away.

Maximilian landed hard on his back with a wheeze, helmet skittering from his head, but even as he struggled to sit up Katherine was moving forward, eyes narrowed. Before he could do much of anything, she kicked him back down, forcing the rest of the air from his lungs.

But he wasn't done. He couldn't be. The tigress ground her heel into his chest.

"Yield." She growled.

With the last burst of strength he felt he could possibly summon, Maximilian grabbed hold of the tigress' ankle and rolled with it, forcing the tigress to fall with him. She rolled even as she fell, landing on her knees, tearing her leg free from his grip. He lunged at her, but his motion was weak and the tigress rammed a fist into his stomach, Maximilian sinking to his knees, exhausted paws falling from the front of the tigress' armor as he gasped for breath.

He felt her claws at his throat, Katherine dropping into a kneel in front of him. He could feel her breath, quick with exertion, ruffling the fur on his face.

"Yield." She demanded again.

He nodded. There was nothing more he could do. She had him in a lethal position. A moment more and she'd rip out his throat.

"I yield." He acquiesced, voice faint, lungs still struggling to fill.

Some of the tension seemed to run from the tigress, her paws dropping from his throat to rest instead on his shoulders. She was very close to him, her breath warm and vital, fur mussed and a thread of blood darkening the white fur at one corner of her cheek.

"You almost had me." Katherine said.

Maximilian kissed her. It was an impulse, as sudden as a twitch or a wag of his tail, and just as natural. The tigress blinked as his lips met hers, a flash of tenseness passing through her like an electric shock, there and gone again. He caught a hint of her tongue, wet and with just a hint of roughness, then, suddenly, there was an expanding sting on his lower lip.

He drew back, a surprised paw fluttering up to his mouth, eyes going to Katherine, who watched him, expression unreadable. Reality began to catch up, a curl of dread gathering in the pit of his stomach.

Oh.

This was...

He...didn't know how to respond. She'd bitten him, there was a smear of blood on his fingers, the injury not serious, just a single, nearly surgical poke of a sharp feline tooth...but still...

"I've wanted to," he said at last, swallowing away his fear, "for a long time."

Katherine hadn't drawn back, the tigress remained exactly where she was, watching her trainee with amber eyes. Once again all he could think of was how she had held herself before the king, straight backed and square shouldered, not an ounce of fear for the most powerful man in the North.

She looked a bit like that now, the glow in her fur seeming to throb, contained only by her stripes...and the look on her face. It almost seemed contemplative, there was no trouble or worry there, not an ounce of anger or fear either.

She was going over the situation on her own terms, Maximilian realized. Hers and nobody else's.

"You remember." She said at last.

It took a moment for him to realize what she was talking about. He nodded.

"I do." He said, voice barely a whisper.

"You kept apologizing to me," she said, and drew him back in, gentle paws coming up to Maximilian's shoulders, holding him steady, "why was that all you could think about?"

"I knew if I died you'd go back anyway. And my father would blame you."

Leaning in, Katherine lapped the little bead of blood from the corner of Maximilian's lip with a tiny flick of her rough tongue. It sent a strange tingling chill through every corner of his body.

"My life is yours, as yours is mine." The tigress said.

He hugged her to him, as tightly as he could, Katherine returning the embrace after a moment, resting her chin between his shoulder and neck. He could feel her whiskers tickling his throat, the tigress' paws dropping to undo the clasps at the side of his leather breastplate. He did the same, and in a moment they were unarmored, back in regular woolen garments.

The tigress looked tired and mussed, her fur ruffled, the neck of her shirt streaked with blood. Maximilian had never seen someone as beautiful in his entire life. He wanted to kiss her again and never stop, to run his paws all over her and memorize every bit of her body.

Katherine regarded him with a coolness that only spurred him on further, there was the faintest hint of a smile on her face, and when he traced his paws over her arms, taking some time to feel the musculature there, a tiny purr rose from the back of her throat.

The tigress let him go over her, from her trim waist and flared hips to the firm mounds of her breasts, each capped with a hard onyx nipple that poked into Maximilian's palm. For a moment he paused, looking up from what he was doing, feeling faintly foolish, but the tigress just offered him the barest edge of a smirk and pressed her chest ever so slightly against his paws.

He was hard, he realized, so absolutely aroused that he was trembling, all but consumed with a mingled desperation and nervousness. He could scarcely believe that this was happening, and on such an ordinary training day nonetheless, but it was. The reality cut through him with every chill of frigid wind and twinge of the cuts and bruises his most recent sparring match had given him. But all of that was distant, barely registering.

Then Katherine's paws were on his hips, the tigress' amber eyes falling down between his legs, alight with unhidden interest. Hooking her fingers into his waistband, she tugged his pants down and let them puddle around his ankles, pressing herself close, grinding herself against Maximilian's exposed member.

It felt strange, the chill of the open air contrasted so totally by the tigress' warmth, especially as she tugged her own pants down. He couldn't help but look, paws dropping to cup her firm, round rear. The tigress' front was a snowy white, uninterrupted by stripes or the fiery glow of her fur. Between her legs, tucked nearly out of sight, was a little ebony slash, marked only by a glint of moisture.

Stepping out of her discarded pants, the tigress shucked her shirt as well, standing fully naked, seemingly inured to the cold. Maximilian drew her closer, the sensation of soft fur against his throbbing knotted member intoxicating. The color contrast too, the pinkish scarlet of his cock against the white of her fur, all contributed to enhance the buzz of pleasure he felt.

Leaning forward, the tigress nuzzled her face into the side of Maximilian's neck, offering just a hint of sharp teeth, sending a weirdly enticing chill through him as she forced him into a sitting position atop his discarded leather breastplate.

Katherine straddled him, grinding her sodden feline slit against his member with stern little shoves of her hips, paws gripping tight to Maximilian's shoulders. His own paws remained on her hips, encouraging her motions, his breath starting to come in desperate little huffs as pre slicked his member.

"I'm going to take you now." The tigress said. It was more of an announcement than anything else, she left no room for refusal, and Maximilian knew he wouldn't have. Not in a million years, no matter how cold or windy or miserable it was out, there was nothing that could convince him to turn this away.

Positioning herself, Katherine wrapped her fingers around the prince's length, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of his knotted lupine cock, then let the tip slip past the sable lips of her slick pussy.

The tigress was so tight that Maximilian's cock nearly slid free, a spurt of pre soaking her ebony lips, but she rolled her hips and let gravity sink her down, a little gasp interrupting the near constant purr issuing from the back of her throat. Maximilian groaned, ears pinning back as he gripped tight to the tigress' hips, drawing her closer to him, burying his face in the soft white fluff that covered her chest.

He could feel her heart beating, the pace accelerated, and teased one nipple with his tongue, enjoying the way Katherine's heart leapt each time he did so. But his motions were imperfect, halting each time she brought him deeper into her, the tigress' tightly muscled slit squeezing down upon his cock from all directions, muscles spasming in place, bathing him in impossible heat and a viselike tightness that almost seemed determined to push him out of her entirely.

But still she rode him, almost relentlessly, eyes slitted with pleasure, her purrs acquiring an almost growly edge as she continued, the very tips of her claws working from their sheaths, prickling the skin of Maximilian's shoulders, straight through his sable fur.

He in turn gasped and bucked his hip to meet the tigress' at the height of each thrust, determined to push himself as deep into her as he could. His knot throbbed, thickening with each splash of pre that splashed Katherine's hole, heart hammering faster and faster as he drew ever closer to climax.

Katherine glanced down at the height of her next thrust, eyeing the bulge of her partner's knot. An unmistakably enterprising look entered her eyes. Immediately, Maximilian realized what she was about to do.

"It'll take a while before it shrinks." He warned her, words punctuated with gasps and groans. The tigress nodded, unconcerned.

"I know." She said, and tucked her legs more tightly against the ground, forcing herself down onto Maximilian's swollen knot. For a moment she simply stopped, grinding uselessly against its circumference, the prince's cock firing off another spurt of pre deep inside of her, then she redoubled her efforts, eyes shutting entirely, and suddenly it was sliding into her, Maximilian's hips bucking uncontrollably, the entire length of his cock bathed in velvety slickness, pressed on all sides by Katherine's finely honed body.

The tigress ground lazily onto his length, adjusting to the canine knot she'd just taken. Her paws trembled on Maximilian's shoulders and he let out a little needy whine, ears still pinned back, a rising tide of ecstasy boiling within him. But its release was too slow, it was as though the tigress had suddenly decided to tease him.

Hooking one leg through Katherine's, he pressed the tigress to him and rolled over, placing her onto her back. She let him, a momentary tension giving way to relaxation, her legs opening more fully, giving him unfettered access to her. The tigress' amber eyes glowed with arousal, she had to be close too, curious about how he would make use of his initiative.

There was almost no conscious thought involved, he'd gone beyond that. The tigress was so tight, so welcoming, her purrs and little moans seemed to vibrate her entire body. Maximilian thrust into her, jamming his cock and swollen knot as deep into the squirming tigress as he could. Her striped tail curled tight around one leg and he felt the prickle of her claws once more, then he was pressing himself tight against her, drawing Katherine into a deep kiss as everything bored over and he exploded inside of her.

She moaned into his mouth, ten stinging pinpricks jangling across his shoulders as she made unconscious(?) use of her claws. But that hardly seemed important, he felt as though he was melting down, every bit of him being poured into the tigress, molten jets of cum splashing into her, filling her womb.

She wouldn't become pregnant, he was no more a tiger than she was a wolf, but that fact hardly seemed to matter. This was hardly about heirs or anything more than a wonderful outpouring of emotion.

Katherine guided him onto the side, Maximilian panting, completely spent. The tigress pulled him close to her, arms held around her partner with all the protectiveness in the world. Though they were naked, and tied on top of that, Maximilian felt as safe and secure as he ever had. Nothing could possibly harm him so long as he was close to her.

"You have a ways to go," Katherine said, stroking behind one fluffy black furred ear, "but perhaps it's not such a long distance."

He kissed her, and this time she didn't nip him.

_'I love you.' _ He wanted to say, but kept the words unspoken for the moment.

He'd have to earn them.