The Cannibal Princess

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The Cannibal Princess

Sometimes, while I'm working away on something else, I start to wonder how Sascha and Lucas from Slave to Sensation

are doing. What generally happens then is that I write a scene from their lives. Since these scenes don't really connect in the sense of being complete stories - they're usually fleeting glimpses, like you'd see through a window, (maybe a page or so long), I generally don't post them up. But this particular scene ended up being close to a short story, so I thought you might enjoy seeing it.

Timewise, this story is set after Slave to Sensation

and before Visions of Heat

. Enjoy!

"Sascha, darling!"

Sascha felt her lips twitch at that childish shout. "All your fault," she said to Lucas as he did a not very good job of hiding his grin.

"What can I say?" He spread out his arms. "Kid has good taste, not to mention excellent language skills."

Ignoring her mate as he trailed her out of Tamsyn's huge kitchen and to the living room, she made her way to where Julian and Roman sat side by side on the sofa. "You called, your highnesses?"

The cubs giggled, then shifted apart. Julian patted the space in between and Sascha sat. They immediately snuggled up to her, small and warm and so precious. Every time she held these two, she wondered about what the future held for her and Lucas. Her eyes lifted and clashed with his as he sat down on the edge of the coffee-table in front of her. The beautiful green of his gaze held the most intense kind of promise.

Her heart jerked. Impossible, her Psy mind told her. But she knew it was possible. Emotion had a strength most of the Psy had forgotten. It could hurt and it could give such joy it was beyond anything she had ever imagined possible.

A small hand patted her left arm. Roman, she thought, turning to press a kiss over the top of his head. He was the quieter of the pair, but together, they were Trouble on four legs--eight if they had shifted into their animal forms. "Missing your Mom?" she asked.

Roman nodded. On her other side, Julian asked, "Back tonight?" His voice was uncharacteristically plaintive.

"Yes, back tonight." Tammy and Nate had had to make a quick trip out of state, leaving their cubs in Sascha and Lucas's care. Sascha adored the pair--it kept surprising her that the adoration seemed mutual. Now she looked at both in turn. "I'll make sure to tell her how good you two have been."

That earned her a smile from Julian and a kiss on the cheek from Roman. Lucas watched, teasing her with his eyes. He knew she was a sucker for the kids. She made a face back at him.

"Story, Sascha?"

Sascha froze at Julian's question. Even after months with DarkRiver, she kept getting caught flat-footed by things she hadn't thought to prepare for. "You want to hear a story?"

Two nods, two pairs of shiny eyes looking to her in anticipation.

Lost, she glanced at Lucas. She didn't know how to tell stories. Her childhood had been spent squeezing emotion out of her soul.

No one had ever told her any story but ones that warned her to keep emotion locked away, where it couldn't destroy her. Her mother had whispered to her of the rehabilitated, the nightmare creatures who were nothing more than walking vegetables, their life drained away.

Her most powerful childhood memory was of standing inside the Center, watching the rehabilitated shuffle from one end of the room to the other, their features blank, their eyes empty of any but the most faded remnants of humanity.

The darkness of memory threatened to claw into her, but then a wave of love traveled down the twisting threads of the bond inside of her, this magical thing that tied her to the panther perched on the coffee-table opposite, his long legs spread to bracket her own. "I have a story," he said, catching the twins' attention. "But it's scary."

"Really?" Julian leaned forward in excitement.

"We're not babies," Roman added.

Lucas made a face. "I don't know. Your Mom might get mad."

"Please, Uncle Lucas!"


"Please! Please!"


Lucas gave a solemn sigh and leaned forward a little, forearms braced on his thighs. "Okay, but I did warn you. If you have nightmares, don't come complaining to me." Looking at him right then, his face indulgent, his voice gentle, no one would have pegged him as one of the most dangerous predators in the area, a panther who could tear enemies to shreds with his bare hands.

But, Sascha thought, he was still DarkRiver's alpha. Except this time, he was seeing to the needs of two of the pack's youngest members. And her. He was looking after her, too, with a quiet support that let her know he was there to help her as she figured out this new life, this new world.

"Once upon a time," he said, "there was a princess--"

"A princess!" Julian's disgusted shout, followed by Roman's scowling nod.

Lucas growled low in his throat, making both cubs quiet and snuggle against Sascha with fearful shivers. She knew it was all for show but she hugged them anyway.

"As I was saying, there was a princess. She lived in a tower in the middle of a forest and she had seven servants."

"Seven?" Julian dared whisper.

"One for each day of the week," Lucas said. "You see, each day, one servant would go out to the nearby village and--"

"And?" Roman this time.

"I don't know." Lucas frowned. "This is the really scary part. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Two very fast nods.

Nodding, Lucas leaned closer, his voice a whisper. "You see, the Princess had really big teeth, sharp as knives."

Roman gasped but didn't interrupt. Julian wasn't so quiet. "Like wolves?"

Lucas's lips curved. "Exactly like the wolves."

She threw him a scowl. The wolves were supposed to be their allies now. Unrepentant laughter danced in his eyes as he continued the story. "The princess could cut through anything with those sharp wolf teeth--flesh and bone, wood and metal, even...little boys' bedroom doors."

As the cubs shivered again, Lucas looked up to catch Sascha's wide-eyed look. She appeared as innocent as Julian and Roman at that moment, a child surrendering to the magic of story for the first time. A tearing rush of tenderness filled his heart, but with it came a steely determination. No one was ever going to hurt her again, not in his lifetime.

"Now, down in the village--the village that the servants went to every day," he continued, spinning the story as he went, "there lived a little boy. Every night, he went to sleep after locking all the windows and doors in his house."

"Why?" Sascha asked.

"So the princess's servants wouldn't get him," he said, as if that should have been obvious.

"But why?" his analytical Psy mate persisted.

"Because," he paused, let the tension build, then growled out the last words "the Cannibal Princess liked to eat little boys for dinner."

His audience--all three of them--gripped each other. He almost laughed at the look of shock on Sascha's face. She was probably wondering what he was doing telling such a bloodthirsty tale to two such small leopards. His darling kitten hadn't yet realized that children were far more feral than grownups.

"Her favorite dish was roasted little boy with honey glazing and pineapple slices."

"Lucas, maybe--" Sascha began

"Shh." Two small voices, four hands clutching at her waist. "More, Uncle Lucas."

"Well, sometimes she liked them nicely fattened up so she'd keep them in her special little pantry and feed them cake and pie and--"

"--sausage!" Roman added.

"Yes," Lucas agreed with a solemn nod. "And that pantry--full of cake and pie and sausage, was where she put the little boy from the village. She told him to eat, she could eat him."

As he sat there and told a deliciously dark tale of how the smart little boy defeated the Cannibal Princess with his wits alone, he watched Sascha, felt her love for him, for the boys, surround them in a silken wave. She didn't realize how extraordinary she was, how being in a room with her made people feel better about life, about hope, about everything.

And she was his.

The panther within him pleased by that thought, he smiled, bared his teeth and finished the tale with a growling grab at the twins and Sascha. All three screamed and then giggled. Julian and Roman pretended to bite him, while Sascha was a rainbow inside his mind. In front of him, her face streaked with laughter as the cubs turned, looked at each other and decided to make her their next victim.

Ten minutes of mock-wrestling later, she held up her hands in laughing surrender and declared herself "eaten."


That night in bed, she turned to him and said, "Tell me a story, Lucas. No cannibals."

He sighed, stroked a hand down her back. "I only know cannibal stories," he teased.

"Please," she said, in imitation of the twins. "Please, please!"

He kissed her, remembering how very restrained she'd been when they had first met. But even then, he had sensed the wildness in her. "If I can't have cannibals, can I have deranged monkeys?"

Her eyes went wide and she nodded.

"Before I start--when are you going to tell me a story?"

She paused, thinking. "I need to do some more research." Her hand laid against his chest. "Teach me."

The panther purred in approval--this was a woman fit for a mate, this woman who didn't give up, no matter what the obstacle. "How about"--he began to undo her braid--"we tell this story together."

A slow, sweet, perfect smile warmed up her eyes. "Once upon a time," she whispered, "there was a princess and she lived with a panther."

Two days later, Lucas got a call from Tamsyn during which he was asked to explain how her cubs now knew the meaning of the word "cannibal."

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