The autumn leaves cracked beneath Lawrence's feet as he walked through the wooded grounds of Patenia. He smelled the air, the crisp breeze, and the smells of nature mixing in a delightful cacophony that tickled his senses. And deep in that cacophony, he smelled the faint scent of dead lamb.

Lawrence smirked as he followed the scent, his nose leading him closer to the end of his quest. The kingdom's shepherdess needed the king's aid in tracking a beast that was killing her flock. As usual, such a menial task fell to him, the bastard son of King Robert. 

He was, of course, well-suited to the role. His rugged features were built up over 2 decades of hard physical labor. His combat skills were exemplary thanks to his time observing his eldest brother train in combat with the king's guard. His knowledge of the beasts that lived in the kingdom was second to none. And of course, his sense of smell was unnaturally gifted. Like the bloodhounds his father bred, he could seemingly sniff out a drop of blood in a forest. 

It was a trait of many uses, but one which sadly had been used for abuse by his cruel siblings. When his eldest brother, Alexander, came back from horseback riding, he tasked Lawrence to clean the beast and its stall, which, in his younger days, left Lawrence in tears as the vile assault on his senses was too much to bear. His younger brother Jeremiah had declared it a sign from The'oth that their god considered him to be on the same level as a dog. This observation had led Lawrence's younger sister Rebekah to call him Mutt, a name which spread throughout Patenia and was how children addressed him as he went out to act on the kingdom's will.

He sighed as he thought of it, tracking the scent through the forest. He wondered if the shepherdess he spoke with, who seemed on the surface so kind when speaking to him, harbored similar disdain for him. While some in the kingdom showed him kindness, the word of The'oth made his status clear. A child born out of wedlock is a living symbol of sin, and to be such a symbol of The'oth's chosen emissary, the king, made his very existence heretical. 

Shaking his head, he returned to the task at hand. The kingdom required his service, and him feeling despondent would not aid him as he hunted the vile beast who had been plundering the king's flock. 

His iron broadsword was strapped to his hip, more than capable of taking care of any normal beast. His lightweight leather armor bounced slightly with every step, capable of stopping a bear swipe or wolf bite if needed. If the beast were anything more serious, such as a harpy or troll, he would need reinforcements. Even the king's most sturdy armor crumpled like paper when bitten by trolls.

Thankfully, such creatures' appearances had become far less common since his father had become king. Blessed by The'oth, Robert had purged the lands of dangerous creatures like trolls or dragons, the blessed silver sword he wielded providing him divine protection in his younger days. 

Lawrence came to a stop at a clearing and pondered whether he bore similarities to his father when he was his age. He lacked the golden hair that King Robert was blessed with, for certain. Lawrence's black hair was instead a product of a mother he never met. However, he had inherited his father's natural good looks and facial features, or so he was told by several tavern maidens.

Lawrence gazed at his surroundings and breathed deeply. The scent pointed him in the direction of a small cave he could see several yards away. It seemed his beast was a wolf based on the size of the cave entrance. 

Wolves were not dangerous when caught alone; their strength was in numbers and cunning. It was essential to the kingdom's prolonged survival that the ones who gained a taste for the king's flock be culled before they formed more robust hunting groups.

Lawrence walked gingerly, approaching the three-foot hole in the hill before him, careful not to make much noise, should the beast be sleeping. He drew his sword as he approached the den and reached into his back with his other hand and grabbed a potion that gave the drinker the ability to see better in low light conditions. He quickly drank from the small vial and peered into the dark hole before him.

A small tunnel seemed to continue for several feet with no wolf or other beast in sight. Lawrence sniffed the entrance to ensure he was in the right spot, and the scent of freshly slain sheep emanating from the cave left little question that he was on the trail of the thief. There was no telling if the wolf would be coming out any time soon, given its recent bounty, which left Lawrence little choice but to get on his hands and knees and crawl into the opening.

Lawrence was careful to still make as little noise as possible. He kept his sword pointed toward the cave as he crawled, ensuring he'd be able to fend off any surprise attacker who rushed from the dank cave he was entering. The tunnel soon opened up to a larger opening, a wide chamber about 10 feet tall. The space was eerily quiet as Lawrence rose to his feet and examined his surroundings. A shiver was sent down Lawrence's back as he examined his surroundings. It was clear to him that this was no natural cave.

The walls had been chiseled and decorated with crude carvings of wolves and there were places where a human could place a torch into the wall to illuminate the space. Lawrence shuddered as the possibility that his prey was no beast entered his mind. Still, the King's will must be carried out, and there would be no quarter for thieves, be they beast or man.

Lawrence crept slowly deeper and deeper into the cave, hugging a wall as the cave bent into the hill. His hand ran over a carving of a wolf with its jaws open as he crept forward. A sound started to tickle his ears as he stepped forward, the unmistakable crackle of wood that carried flame. Whatever this sheep thief was, it was no simple beast. Soon, a warm glow began to paint the walls before him. Lawrence's search would soon be at its end. He hugged the wall before the final bend and gripped his sword tightly. He hoped to be able to take the criminal in peacefully, but those caught stealing from the king often would rather fight than see justice be done. With one last deep breath, he walked slowly through the bend and towards the glow.

“If a thief be present, show yourself!” He barked as he entered the last chamber of the cave. The campfire in the middle of the chamber revealed intricate wolf carvings in the walls and ceiling of the room, which was similar in dimension to a small house. Shallow holes filled the wall to his right as if they were beds for the beast that decorated the space. Most imposing was that against the far wall was a great statue of a wolf, its fangs bearing down to a small altar, on which a dead infant lamb lay, still bleeding from a large cut on its neck.

Unnerved, Lawrence continued to walk into the space. Still, he bravely walked to the center of the room as he continued to call out.

“This lamb was taken from the king's flock,” he shouted. “Clearly, it hath been slain for a sacrifice to a heretical being. However, if you show yourself now and come peacefully, I will ensure you only face the consequences of the theft and not be put to death for heresy.”

Suddenly, a feminine laugh rang out from behind him. Lawrence quickly pivoted and turned to face his prey, sword facing a dark figure walking toward him. As it walked closer, his jaw fell agape.

The figure was that of a voluptuous woman, dressed immodestly in only a coat of wolf fur. The figure seemed human at first glance, her large breasts and kind face being the first things Lawrence's eyes were drawn to, but on closer inspection, there were traits only a beast would have. Her ears sat not on the sides of her head but at the top in small wolf-like triangles. Her eyes were not circular and white, but yellow with the small slit of a predator. Her grin was punctuated with large fangs that escaped her lips. Her hands had large, imposing claws and fur. And a bushy tail, which matched her hair, followed her as she walked

In spite of these beastly traits, the woman was stunningly beautiful. Her long black hair had streaks of grey and flowed like water to the small of her back. Her portions were delectable, and her waist tapered inward before expanding to wide hips. She approached him barefoot, with dainty human-like feet, with just a bit of fur.

“The'oth is allowing his followers to put people to death now? Far has the elder god fallen indeed,” she said in a melodic voice that rang pleasantly in Lawrence's ears.

“Who are you?” Lawrence said with a snarl, raising his sword to the woman before him.

“Oh, the boy is quite brave and sturdy,” she responded in a teasing manner. She daintily placed a claw on the sword and pushed it lower. “You need not raise your sword to me, Mutt. If my intentions were to harm, I would have already done so. You may take me peacefully to your king if that is what you desire, but I arranged our little meeting today so carefully that it would be quite a shame if that is how our time together ended.”

Lawrence could detect the truth in her words and bolstered his broadsword. “A meeting with me?” he replied. “What purpose do you have for meeting with the king's bastard? And why arrange this in such a vulgar manner?”

The woman laughed. “Inquisitive and sharp as expected. I like you already,” she said with a giggle, walking past Lawrence and toward the altar without fear. Lawrence blushed as he couldn't help but have his eyes drawn to her rear, which swayed pleasingly with each step.

“To answer your first question,” she continued as she walked. “My name is Vivian, and I am the chosen spiritual emissary of Va’run, the god of nature and power, and The'oth's younger brother in the pantheon of gods.”

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. “Pantheon of gods? There is but one god of light in our teachings.”

“In your teachings, yes,” she replied with a smile as she gazed at Lawrence. “But The'oth has corrupted the faith when he chose your father as his envoy to the kingdom. Before you were born, he was just one of many gods. But he also desires control, and the worship of all mortal beings, and so he has used your father to destroy all traces of their teachings. I imagine that's why your father would eagerly put me to death if you were to present me to him.”

Lawrence frowned as he ruminated on the words Vivian spoke. Had his father truly been killing innocents on the whims of a jealous god?

“I see you questioning the word of your faith,” Vivian purred as she continued. “Though I imagine it is not hard, given your status. You are one that The'oth would never bless after all.”

Lawrence was taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”

Vivian laughed. “Oh my sweet boy. Surely you already know. Has your brother not already labeled you as living heresy? Is your existence not one of toil and misery at the hands of those closest to you? Your very presence here is proof of your station. A quest too dangerous to risk your blessed siblings, but without any glory. You would return home with scars and wounds, and be left to treat yourself with not a soul in the kingdom left to care for you. All by The’oth’s cruel designs.

Vivian strode toward Lawrence, who stood despondent, reflecting on all she had said. The truth of her words pierced him to his core like a spear, and a great sadness he spent much time suppressing welled up inside him

Vivian caressed him delicately like a lover. “My poor Lawrence, suffering endless toil and cruelty for a deity who cannot love him. For The’oth is not the god of light but the god of control. He blessed your father with the ability to inspire others, the wisdom to control his domain, and the power to craft law. However, your father committed heresy when he fell in love with your mother. She was such a pretty young woman, working that tavern your father frequented. But a King must have control enough of himself to see that lying with another is a strategic consideration. Your birth jeopardized a treaty with the kingdom your false mother came from and brought shame to The’oth. So The’oth ordered your mother banished, and your father chose control over love and banished your mother. The poor thing lasted nary a month in the elements before meeting her end. You were supposed to be banished with her, but your father pleaded for mercy sufficient that The’oth allowed him to keep you.”

Lawrence felt tears welling up in his eyes. He knew this was also true; the cruel taunts of his siblings and kingdom dignitaries had long ago made clear his existence was an inconvenience to his father and to the kingdom's god.

“But,” Vivian continued in a husky whisper, “you were not forsaken. Va’run blessed you for your conception pleased him. Nature is to fall subject to one's whims, to fall in love, and to make rash decisions. Your conception was an offering that he gladly accepted and marked you with the sign of his blessing. Your keen sense of smell, which led to your dreadful title of Mutt, was a blessing that shows your connection to nature and the natural order. Your upbringing, while harsh and destructive, has turned you into a capable warrior and deeply empathetic man. While your father's power decays, yours rises, and Va’run believes that the right to rule belongs to the strongest, and your power far exceeds that of your petulant siblings.”

“What- What are you proposing?” Lawrence said meekly as Vivian held him close.

“Such a sharp mind,” Vivian cooed. “My god sent me here to provide a simple blessing. You will become his emissary to the kingdom, a magnanimous and gracious ruler who will free the populace of the cruel shackles of The’oth and your family. You will corrupt every citizen and turn them away from their faith and towards Va’run and the other gods long forgotten.”

“And if I refuse?” Lawrence asked.

“Nothing, silly boy,” Vivian replied. “My god is not one of cruelty. If you refuse his offer, I would simply leave and wait for a more opportune time and a better person to bless. You, however, would spend your remaining days alone and miserable. You would live in a kingdom that hates your existence until you mercifully die and are forgotten to time.”

Lawrence's gaze shifted down. Her offer was all that he could have wanted. His life was cruel, and she offered not only reprieve but one of joy. But his thoughts shifted to his father. While cruel, he had spared him from death, and was that a debt that he could forsake so easily?

Vivian grinned. “Your thoughts shift to those of your father. You feel like you owe him something for sparing you? Ask yourself, if you were to die on your quest, would he shed a tear for your passing? Had he spared you for your sake or for his own conscience? Your cruel upbringing would be something he shielded you from. If he truly cared, would he have you suffer like this?”

Lawrence glared at the woman; her words again were those of uncomfortable truth. He knew he was chosen for these missions because, in the unlikely event he would pass, his father would be able to cleanse the one sin he had committed. Lawrence’s heart hardened in that moment, and he turned to Vivian with a look of determination.

“What must I do?” he asked.

Vivian clapped her hands together.  “Wonderful, it's much more enjoyable for me when the chosen one chooses to be blessed,” she said with a sultry expression on his face. “I'm sure you have surmised that my form is no accident. Nature is defined by reproduction, and so, the servants of Va'run take great pleasure in the act of fornication.”

Vivian punctuated her statement by dropping her fur coat, leaving her body fully exposed for Lawrence's appreciation. “By lying with me, you enter holy communion with our lord,” she continued. “You will receive his blessing, and your form will be enhanced. You will be blessed with more traits from nature. And the more you spread our lord's influence the more you will find your abilities enhance.”

Lawrence grinned as he undid the clasps of his armor. “Sounds delightful," he said as he left himself fully undressed and lay by the fire.

Vivian gave a predatory grin. “It will be,” she cooed, kneeling down and bringing her face close to the bastard's growing penis. Delicately, she began to lick up and down his shaft, her form amusingly and appropriately wolflike in nature. Lawrence grinned as her tail tagged back and forth like a loving puppy.

The sensations were new and delightful for Lawrence. The kingdom strictly forbade fornicating but for reproduction, and needless to say, no woman desired a bastard's child. His penis ached with pressure as Vivian began to buckle him.

Unfelt by Lawrence, his form was shifting. With every lick from Vivian, his hair was growing, steadily becoming akin to the pelt of a direwolf. His toes cracked and became beastlike, and his hands grew imposing claws which gripped gently around Vivian’s ears as her head bobbed up and down on his shaft. He was impressed that the wolf woman with such imposing fangs had not cut him.

Vivian pulled her head from Lawrence's penis with a grin. “Ready to receive your blessing?” She said as she straddled him, rubbing her wet pussy up and down Lawrence's length in a way that made his dick ache.

Lawrence let out a beastlike growl. “Do as our god wills,” he demanded forcefully.

Vivian let out a sexy giggle. “Spoken like a true pack leader. Our lord has chosen well.”

Vivian punctuated her statement by dropping herself on the changing wolfman's shaft, sighing with pleasure as he filled her fully, hitting parts of her insides that caused her to quake uncontrollably. Lawrence, for his part, also let out a satisfied snarl, and his rugged form became covered in plush, silky black fur.

The changing man thrust wildly into his mate, his teeth growing into imposing fangs. Vivian was sharing in his transformation, each becoming full anthropomorphic wolf beings, growling and snarling with pleasure as they mated. 

Lawrence felt a sudden surge of strength and forced Vivian to her back, ending up atop her. With a clawed hand around her throat, Lawrence thrust violently into Vivian's gushing cunt. She squealed with delight as his thrusts lost all sense of control. The beast was loose inside her, and she couldn't be happier. Her god had chosen a true alpha to lead his kingdom's pack. Vivian cried out as she climaxed, her legs wrapped around Lawrence tightly.

Overwhelmed with sensation, Lawrence too climaxed with a howl. He felt strange pressure in the base of his penis as he climaxed, a wolflike knot inflated inside the trembling Vivian beneath him. His strength suddenly failed him, and her collapsed onto Vivian with his knot still firmly stuck inside his mate.

“You were wonderful,” she whispered into his ear as the edges of his vision turned black. “Show the same pleasure to the kingdom. Let the populace's bestial nature's free from their bondage.” She instructed just before sleep overtook the bastard.

Lawrence awoke to pitch black. He quickly touched himself, finding the claws and fur he had hours earlier were gone. The embers of the fire lingered on the ground beside him. “Vivian?” He called out, but the echo of his voice was the only response he received. He closed his eyes, deep in thought, and when he opened them, he suddenly found he could see, his eyes changing to those of a direwolf. He grinned.

“Must be one of those blessings from nature,” he muttered to himself as he dressed himself, the path before him clear.