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Chapter 4: Moonflower

For a long, quiet moment, Veronica stood still and silent in the sunlit corridor, alone. She listened to the roar of an engine starting--something big and racy, from the sound of it--and moved quickly and quietly to the window, padding along the wooden floor. She parted the curtain just in time to see a blood red Porsche 911 speed off into the long, dark, tree-lined drive. Behind it, converging upon the road it had run like wolves watching a too-swift moose, came the guard dogs. And wolfish they were; they slipped from the shadows and stood in the darkness of the trees for a long moment, looking toward the long-gone car, and then turned, seeming to stare directly into Veronica's soul. Golden eyes glinting in the sunlight, they swept off and disappeared back into the trees.

Veronica stood nude, white-furred body bathed in pale sunlight, thinking. A guy who could afford a Porsche could afford something a hell of a lot flashier, she knew--perhaps Xavier actually had a need for the Porsche's superior handling and performance. Or maybe it was just his style. Either way, she approved; she'd take a Porsche over a Ferrari any day. Though she was practical enough to know that something with four-wheel-drive would be a bit more practical.

Shaking herself from her thoughts (and from the blue Subaru she'd conjured up in her mind) she turned and gazed into her new home. She was alone here, and able to take her time exploring and not be nervous, for the first time. The wooden floors were polished to a shine, and the stone walls were free of even a single cobweb. The few tapestries farther into the house were rich, not the sort of standard mindless antique crap usually found in castles, but rather a beautiful assortment of scenes depicting hunts, feasts, battles, and the capture of a unicorn.

After gazing upon these for an hour or so, trying to rid her mind of fear, the white tigress turned her emerald eyes on the kitchen.

It was huge, easily the largest kitchen she'd ever seen. The reddish island in the center was overhung by cast-iron pots and pans, and the stoves--two of them!--gleamed with those nifty smooth glass tops. Veronica moved deeper in, not realizing that she was moving like a hunted rabbit, not noticing her finger toying with her tail, or her top fangs squeezing her lower lip, or her flattened-back ears. Her heart was racing. On the top, her mind was examining the kitchen, peering into the fridge, but beneath, she was terrified. What the hell was she doing here? What was he going to do to her?

She poked her soft pink nose into the fridge and sniffed. About ten different types of fruit juice, cold cuts of meat, eggs, some cheeses, fruits, vegetables, and various condiments... just the standard stuff. No hearts or brains or genitals or anything, she noted with half-hearted relief. She opened up the freezer, and found the one unhealthy thing in Xavier's kitchen--a one-gallon tub of chocolate-chip-cookie-dough ice cream, untouched. She blinked at it, her mouth watering slightly. She'd have some of that later, no question. Right now she was too full from the delicious breakfast. She grinned, and moved on.

The pantry, too, held only standard stuff; rice, pasta, various dry mixes, flour, salt, sugar. Nothing special. She left the kitchen and moved quietly upstairs, sniffing as she went; the place smelled mostly empty, with only the slightest hint of Xavier's musk.

She went to his door, pausing outside of it, hand resting on the smooth, warm black wood. Should she? He hadn't forbidden it. She didn't know what she was up against, and snooping now--and perhaps finding something incriminating--could save her life. But then, what sort of male would bring his victim-to-be breakfast in bed?

The sort who didn't want her snooping, she told herself, gently pushing the door open. It smelled good, she noted at once; inviting, almost... like cinnamon. Warm. It was also ludicrously neat--and terrifying. As her eyes swept up to the bed, her heart went cold; it looked like something out of a Gothic nightmare. Decoration resembling spiderwebbing crept up from the bed in what looked like black wrought iron, strung along the wall behind the bed like a zombie headboard. The bed was furnished with a black velvet-looking blanket, blood-red and black pillows, and white sheets beneath. A black chair stood almost throne-like beside the bed, done in what looked like stone but had to be finely worked metal, lined with black plush. A black cloth hung on one stone wall, swept just slightly to one side. Veronica, heart racing, approached it. What was behind it? More stone, or some awful secret? A cage? A torture chamber? A--

Closet. A nice, big, walk-in closet lined neatly with various suits, trousers, and coats. Black boots designed for digitigrade feet were carefully lined up against the wall. The white tigress let out a relieved sigh, and moved back into the main bedroom. It was huge. The light, which she hadn't noticed before, was also black wrought-iron, lined with electric candles in a chandelier style.

Shivering again at the spiderweb-looking headboard, she went to the window and looked out. Beyond, there was a feild, then dark trees. Nothing too exciting.

She turned, and thought for a moment. Where would a man keep personal things, if not in his closet?

Dropping to all fours, she scooted over to his bed and lifted the blankets, peering at the dark floor beneath. Only a small, worn wooden box, with black hinges, lay beneath. She stared for a long moment, then reached in and pulled it out. Hey, she'd come this far, might as well kiss the devil...

Veronica pulled the wooden box out and sat back on her haunches, peering at it. It looked old, tired--not very ornate, but perhaps just a bit mysterious. Taking a deep breath, she opened it.

Inside was a single blood-red rose, fresh and sweet-smelling. She stared. Beneath it lay a yellowed envelope sealed with a dab of red wax. She pulled it carefully out, wondering... On the front, there was a name, written in violet ink. Pulling back into the light, the tigress peered at it.

"To Veronica"

She blinked. To her? What the...

Slightly confused, and very nervous, she opened the envelope. A small piece of stiff paper, burnt along the edges, fell out. It was a letter, also written in purple ink, and in the same floating script.

"My dear companion...

I applaud you for taking measures to ensure your own safety. I would not truly respect you unless you had explored thoroughly; you do not seem like a meek and mild kitten, but rather a strong and intelligent tigress--which you are. Of course, this means that if I DID have something to hide, it is well-hidden, but I suppose that's something you would have figured out, as well. In any case, I admire you, and am glad you have located this; incidentally, if you would like a light dessert, the ice cream downstairs goes wonderfully with the hot fudge in the pantry.

~Yours,

Xavier"

Veronica stared blankly at the letter for a long moment, then finally took up the rose and letter and padded downstairs. She located a vase in the cabinets, then placed the rose in cool water; the letter she removed to her own room, leaving it beneath her white pillows.

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In town, Xavier wasn't having such a relaxed, uninteruppted day. No, he was bustling from here to there, shop to shop, trying to explain that the reason he had measurements rather than American sizes was because his sweetie was from Europe. This was, of course, completely false, but what was he to say? "I'm sorry, I bought a slave, and she doesn't know her sizes"? Ppphhfft. No, he would instead go from shop to shop, locating suitable clothing and being picker than a troupe of gay fashion designers. Xavier had a strong feminine side, to be sure, and was quite fashion-concious himself--not to the point of refusing clothes because they were out of season, but rather enough to know what looked good and what didn't, and to care about nothing else. He never came across feminine, though, because his masculine side was supremely dominant and confident.

So he bustled from shop to shop, making frequent trips to place the purchased clothing in the passenger seat of the Porsche, ignoring the frequent stares once he'd become too hot and removed his jacket (baring his unusual black-feathered wings).

Eventually, he had a good set of clothes picked out, enough to last Veronica a week of various social nights (one for hanging out, one for something as nice as opera, and a couple in between), and, after grabbing a quick sandwich and soft pretzel from a corner shop, headed out of the city and back toward home.

***********************

When the purring growl of the dark red Porsche echoed into the driveway, Veronica was curled up in the den downstairs, spooning hot fudge-coated ice cream into her mouth, obliviously emitting her own loud purr. Soft Enya played on the speakers, enhancing the already-calm atmosphere of the cavelike room.

Xavier headed into the house, bundled clothes under his arm, ignoring the watching guard dogs. When he first entered the castle, he almost panicked--the place was just as silent and still as it always was when he returned, with no sign of the soft-furred tigress anywhere. Eyes wide, heart stopping for just a moment, he called out "Veronica?!"

Silence. Then he heard the faint "Carribean Blue" playing from the den, and relaxed with a sudden flood of relief.

He headed downstairs, pulling his tie loose as he descended the brown stone stairs. The tigress, golden collar shining in the low light, was curled up on the couch, devouring the ice cream. She looked up at him, suddenly realizing he was there, and started, wincing back. He smiled reassuringly, but inside he was sad; he didn't like that she was still subconciously frightened of him. Or maybe not subconsiously. Ah, well, he sighed internally; it was unrealistic to expect her to warm up at once, after all.

"I bought you some clothes," he said softly, with a gentle smile. His deep, mesmerizing voice brought a slight flush to the tigress's pale cheeks, and she nodded and slowly stood. He smiled and stepped aside for her, leaving the music on as he followed her (and her ice cream) up the stairs. He tried to be a gentleman and not watch the perfectly-formed white rump before him, but knowing it was the last time he'd be seeing it for awhile, it was hard. No pun intended, he told himself wryly.

Once upstairs, Veronica set aside the now-empty bowl and went wide-eyed. The clothing was rich in both color and cost, she could tell with just a glance. Xavier smiled reassuringly and raised up a simple woman's suit--suit pants, blouse and jacket. The blouse was pure white, the suit itself a dull black with inlaid emerald-green piping--just the color to bring out the tigress' sparkling eyes. Beside it he placed a pair of black low-heeled dress shoes.

Next came the hanging-out clothes, a couple of pairs of sweatpants (one white, one black) and a few tee-shirts (one white, one black, one bright purple, one charcoal gray). Beside them he lay about ten pairs of white cotton socks and a pair of white sneakers.

He had also bought two bras (again, a white and a black), ten pairs of underwear (all white, two lacy and the rest cotton), a purple and black winter jacket, and simple silk lingerie--a pale pink spaghetti-strap shirt and matching rosy ankle-length pants.

Finally, he pulled out a simple black dress for her, with matching pumps, and the grand prize.

Grinning, trying to remain modest-looking, Xavier whisked out from behind his back a big, slightly ruffled, gleaming purple dress. It shone and glittered in the light, and looked absolutely exquisite.

Through it all, Veronica had become increasingly more flabbergasted. All of this--for her? She could barely believe it!

But now... The dress was absolutely gorgeous. Xavier handed it to her, grinning, and motioned toward the bathroom. She slipped in at once, still gawking, and he smiled after her.

When she emerged a moment later, still looking rather shellshocked, Xaver was standing proud, hands behind his back and wings slightly raised, like a man waiting for his date so they could go to a dance. Veronica emerged slowly, eyes down, blushing a bit; she felt more exposed now, wearing the beautiful dress, than she had naked.

And Xavier nearly fell over.

Her soft, sleek white coat shone, the well-made purple dress clinging to her curves, sparkling with her every move, ending mid-calf in a sweep of ruffles that called attention to her shapely legs. She had even laced on the matching violet heels, the crisscrossing laces running up just past the ankles. Her long white tail emerged from beneath, twitching slightly, as she blushed. The cut in front was scalloped, the shoulders bare; she looked... unmatched. Xavier went to her and put a finger gently under her chin, raising her face to his. She winced back just a bit, expecting a kiss, but instead was met with a gentle smile. "It looks great," was all he said. Her face lit up in a grin.

*******************

Veronica thanked him profusely, and Xavier helped carry her new wardrobe upstairs and helped her line her closet. Seeing the rose on her windowsill reminded Xavier of the gift he'd left behind, and he turned to her.

"Did you get the..." Veronica blinked.

"The other rose?" The black panther nodded. "Yes, I did, thank you," she replied, smiling a bit but unsure of what to say about her prying.

He brushed by it, and, smiling, left her to dress.

She emerged into the kitchen a few minutes later wearing a bra and black sweatpants with a black tee. In the simple, close-fitting black cotton, she looked great--like an assassin or something, Xavier thought idly.

"Dinnertime," was all he said, however, with a smile on his face.

Veronica gasped.

He stood there nonchalantly, but all he wore was a simple, loose-fitting black pair of trousers. His well-muscled, sleek chest positively glowed, pectorals well-formed, arms powerful and lean. His abdomen was trim as well, with a narrow waist and hips, but as Xavier turned back to the stove (politely ignoring her dropped jaw) Veronica noted the round curve of his tight buttocks. God, he was fit! His body was... perfect!

The black panther turned back to her, head slightly cocked, expression inquisitive. "Everything all right?" he asked. His voice was smooth as velvet and just as soft and sensual, and Veronica felt her body respond. She blinked, tried to speak, and found herself mute. She shook her head clear, and blinked at him a couple times, as if blinded by a bright light.

"F... Fine. Thanks," she responded. Then, clearing her throat, "Anything I can help with?"

"Hmmm, no," he responded with a smile. "Well, you can grab a couple of glasses out of the cabinet up there," he instructed, pointing, spatula hovering in his other hand.

Veronica retrieved the glasses. "Do you like orange juice, or apple juice?" Xavier asked.

"Orange," she responded after a moment. He handed her a jug of fresh orange juice, pulp-free, and she filled the glasses. He turned to her with a smile.

"Do you like chicken?" he asked. She nodded.

A few minutes later, Xavier plopped fried, breaded chicken cutlets onto mayonnaise-coated bread. "Sandwiches," he explained. "Not at all refined, but it's just a quick dinner; I didn't have much time to prepare, after all." He grinned, and Veronica laughed. The two ate right in the kitchen, sitting on tall black stools, munching down the hot, juicy, crunchy chicken stuck between the fluffy Wonder bread, tasting the tangy mayo beneath. After washing the meal down with O.J., the two sat back contentedly.

"Ah," Xavier sighed. "Now. To the den. There's something I'd like to show you," he added, smiling mysteriously.

Feeling a bit less nervous, and somewhat relaxed and curious, Veronica followed, trotting after him out of the kitchen toward the den.

Behind them, darkness began to fall, sifting over the meadows and trees, creating a world of shadows for the wolfdogs outside (who had been fed that morning). The moon rose slowly, its soft white light drifting over the vines and ivy twirling along the castle's stone, shining upon the pale flowers that hung there.

As the moonlight shone upon them, the flowers slowly opened, revealing themselves to the night, opening their pale innocence to the darkness...

Night had fallen.

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Okay, okay, I know it's boring as hell right now, and quite slow. I promise it'll improve soon. :) VERY soon.

Comments and suggestions welcome.

Thanks for reading!