"For Varian! For Gilneas! For! My! Son!" Greymane rampaged out of the shadows, fully consumed by his bestial form -- teeth gnashing, claws lunging out for the undead elf. Everything that had happened in Stormheim so far, so much of it had been leading to this. This clash between titans, between legends. The worgen lashed out with attack after attack, finding each not quite connecting. Sylvanas was like liquid shadow, somehow evading every strike even when he could feel her flesh beneath his nails.
A stream of arrows shot his way, ducked under or batted aside by white-furred claws, and he watched her sneer with annoyed superiority, flipping backwards in an attempt to create space yet again, nocking another arrow. Genn's gaze flickered to the soul cage fastened to her hip, its blue glow dancing across the surface of his feral golden eyes. He had to get the lamp, had to destroy it -- if he could do that, just that, the Banshee Queen's plans would be damned.
He lunged forward yet again with a rapid flurry of claw-strikes, this time aimed lower, aiming for the lantern, and it was this animalistic focus that became his folly. A sudden rush of pain reminded him that he should have been focused not just on the lamp, but the woman's bow, and as he skidded backwards across the vrykul temple floor from the force of the arrow's impact, he also felt the strength flush out of his body. By the time Genn Greymane had stopped sliding across the stone, he'd left his feral form completely, the raging wolf now a shirtless old gilnean with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder.
"That should hold you... for now," Sylvanas showed off a wry smile, tight-lipped over pronounced canines, walking forward to loom over the fallen worgen. "Tell me, dog, how does it feel to be defeated during your great final stand? So blinded by your own rage that you make Garrosh look graceful." She tapped a finger to her lower lip, giving herself a long moment to enjoy simply watching the man squirm -- the venom is her arrow would render even someone of Greymane's strength weak as a kitten, not to mention susceptible in... other ways. The question was, how confident was she in her own victory? Was she willing to seize this opportunity to debase the beast-man in one final way? To take from him the one thing he couldn't get back? To rob him of his dignity?
"What... rrgh... what have you done to me, witch?" Greymane hissed, turning slowly onto his back to look up at Sylvanas. The pain of the arrow, curiously, had subsided, replaced with a strange numbness, a tingling throughout his body as the toxin ran its course throughout his system. A wave of different sensations ran through him -- the rage and hate were difficult to dispel so easily, but along with them was a sense of shame... and weakness, not only of the body, but of the soul. Looking up at the Banshee Queen, he noticed her in ways he never had before. Noticed that she was merely a wretched creature, the object of his rancor. She was majestic, terrible. Beautiful.
His heart pounded as Sylvanas lowered herself down onto him, her smile now opening, showing off her small fangs as she sat fully into his lap, settling her light weight down and then grinding insistently forward. Despite himself, and to his loathing, Genn could feel himself reflexively stiffen beneath her, in more ways than one. "Defeated you, beast. And now I'll defeat you in another way."
Still straddling Greymane, Sylvanas reached down between her pallid thighs and slipped aside the front of her leather battle-panties, revealing the smooth slit beneath. Her dark grin widened, and with a second motion she hooked the same finger into the front of Genn's trousers, tearing away the buttons and laces that separated her from the massive, swollen length beneath, one she already knew would have risen to full life -- the toxin she'd infected the worgen with, along with even the slightest bit of coaxing, would leave Genn unable to resist her, unable to not react in the most primal of ways. She shifted her weight up, pressing the tight opening of her pussy down against the crown of his massive cock, and then lowered herself once again, hissing with pleasure as the huge thing filled her tight opening.
"How... vile creature, I won't le--!" Greymane reached one hand out to weakly try to push the elf off of him, but was effortlessly intercepted when Sylvanas shifted one leg out, stepping firmly on the man's wrist and pinning it in place on the stone floor, still mounted fully on his lap.
"Won't let me? You can't stop me," Sylvanas let out a soft, chilling giggle. "Mnnn..." she closed her eyes, pressing down a little more firmly, letting inch after inch of Greymane's massive manhood slide into her, filling her. One foot still pinning Genn's wrist, she planted the other at his side, using it to more easily push herself up and down, beginning a slow, steady, inescapable rhythm.
Genn's mind, though, raced faster than ever -- why was she doing this? Morever, why wasn't he resisting as much as he could? The poison; that had to be it. Yet when he looked up at her, he didn't see Sylvanas as the thing he'd always imagined her as: a wrathful, hideous, undead thing. The way she moved, the way she felt as her slick pussy slid and squeezed around him... Sylvanas may have lacked warmth, but she felt every bit as alive as he was. One leg propped weakly up, and he finally truly gave in, thrusting upward, drawing a moan of approval from the Horde's new warchief.
"Ahhnn... there we go, old wolf. I knew you couldn't hold back for long." Sylvanas shuddered as an arc of pleasure shot through her, clenching around the beast inside of her and starting to find her rhythm a bit more steadily, bouncing up and dropping back down, swallowing that thick dick into her elven cunt again and again. More than anything else, the pleasure she gained came from the look in Greymane's eyes, the conflict, lust mixing with horror as his body surrendered to that which he found most unthinkable.
Not that Sylvanas wasn't enjoying herself in other ways, too -- as she traced her nails down Greymane's bare chest, she found him remarkably fit, almost untouched by the age his silver hair belied, preserved by his curse. She felt that fitness, that vigor, every time he would thrust up into her, stuffing his throbbing cock up inside of her again and again, meeting her downward pumps with a ram of his own hips, each collision shooting a spike of excitement through the highborne's icy heart. A moan echoed throughout the stone chamber, eclipsing the worgen's ragged growls, and Sylvanas's back arched, eyes drifting shut as she reveled in what she saw as her total victory.
This, though, this moment of serenity, gave Genn the instant he needed to seize control of his senses -- and of the arrow in his shoulder. Reaching for it with his free hand, he wrenched it out of place, leaving a narrow, poisoned wound that his worgen physiology was already beginning to heal closed. Sylvanas's eyes snapped open, lunged for the man's wrist, but was too late to prevent Greymane's outward swipe with the arrow's tip. The attack didn't penetrate, not fully, not as intended, but did manage to scrape neatly across the smooth gray flesh of the banshee's exposed midsection, breaking the skin... and delivering what remained of the toxin.
"Idiot dog--!" Sylvanas hissed, recoiling, only to be pushed farther back by Genn as the worgen sat up entirely, shoving her off of his lap. His strength was still greatly diminished, though returning, but from the way she toppled backwards onto her side it seemed the venom was doing its job, bringing her to his level or lower. "I'll have your pelt for my ma--"
"Enough!" Genn snarled, stumbling forward in what could have been defined as a 'pounce' were he at the peak of his ability, grabbing one firm handful of the elf's snow-white hair and pinning her down, shoulder-first, against the stone floor. His other hand grabbed the lantern at her side, tossing it away to skid across the room, but he then found himself frozen. He lacked the strength to enter his wolf form once more, but... now, with her pinned beneath him, he found his lust not yet slaked. If anything, the corruption in his heart only grew along with the renewed vigor in his body. Furthermore, it seemed like the arrow's toxin was affecting Sylvanas in much the same way it had affected him, as he suddenly felt the pressure of the banshee's backside pushing up into his pelvis, his cock still exposed, still erect, glistening with the warchief's juices.
"Enough what?" Genn looked down to see Sylvanas looking at him over her shoulder, one crimson eye boring into his yellow ones, her grin matching the siren's song of her dark, seductive voice. She pushed up against him again, grinding that perfect ass along the length of his dick as he kept her held tightly in place, grip still on her hair. He couldn't resist. Didn't want to.
Reaching down between them, he sharply tugged the leather of the elf's scant bottoms down around her knees, spitting into the crevice of her upturned ass and then lining the tip of his cock up with the narrow entrance of the banshee's backside. At the first push against her, he heard a sharp gasp, felt Sylvanas tense and shudder beneath him -- and a moment later he followed through, forcing himself into her tight ass, turning that gasp into a trembling moan as he invaded her. The invasion was not without effort, though, even on Genn's part, with the impressive size of his glistening member struggling to breach that first barrier of muscle leading to the banshee's tightest hole... but it was worth that effort.
"Nnhahh! Fuck!" Sylvanas let out a rattling groan, still pressed into the floor, knees tucked beneath her and her backside upended, now a slick socket for Greymane's massive dick. Despite the arrow delivering only a scratch, the toxin was fast-working and intense, and she found herself quivering with unexpectedly intense pleasure as the worgen pushed deep into her asshole, bottoming out in the snug tunnel before mounting her fully, picking up a rhythm that was rapidly increasing in pace.
As moments passed, inhibitions began to drip away, and soon the only remaining vestiges of the hatred the two leaders shared for one another was expressed only through the negligent recklessness with which they fucked. Sylvanas kept her knees planted and legs spread, nails leaving grooves in the stone beneath her, while Genn's hips slammed rapidly into the tight, pliable flesh of the banshee's backside. Greymane's hoarse panting and Sylvanas's ethereal moans were only barely able to eclipse the sound of skin hitting skin, the sound of worgen cock slamming in and out of the highborne's tight ass. Dialogue waned to a minimum, neither willing to speak -- speaking had no choice but to lend some kind of context, some kind of reason, to what was happening, and that was a sacrifice neither was willing to make. All that mattered now was the pure, savage rawness of their union, Greymane throbbing within her while Sylvanas's backdoor quivered and clenched around that thick rod, reflexively trying to milk it for all it could.
"Hah... hah... shit..." Sylvanas clenched her teeth, forehead to the stone floor now as her ass was pummeled by the worgen's massive shaft, her legs wobbling from the pangs of pleasure reverberating through her body. As Greymane had, she could feel a bit of her strength returning, but she was too far gone now to turn back, shudders of excitement rocking her every few seconds as Genn fucked her faster and faster, harder and harder, as relentless as he was rash. Her asshole tightened, spasmed, an abrupt string of orgasms like a mallet trilling across a xylophone bringing her gasps and moans to a banshee's wail, nearly deafening Greymane. "AAaaAAAaeEeahhHh--!" she shrieked out, every inch of her slender figure shaking with the impact of her climax.
While a gentleman may have given the elf a moment to catch her non-existent breath, Genn was in no mood to be gentlemanly; Sylvanas had initiated this sordid union, and she'd have to see it to the end. Rather than pausing, he grabbed the woman's hips and flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs apart and ramming his cock directly back into her ass, propping one knee up to give himself a decent angle at which to fuck her. One hand reached outward to take hold of the warchief's throat, clutching firmly more as a means of conveniently pinning her than any attempt at a genuine choke -- not that depriving Sylvanas Windrunner of air would have much effect anyway. His other hand went to the skimpy segment of armor and leather covering the Dark Lady's chest, fingers hooking under it and tearing it away to reveal Sylvanas's firm tits, jiggling gently with each rough forward thrust of Genn's hips into her.
"Is... rrrgh... is this what you want? Is this what you wanted, Windrunner?" Greymane snarled, rutting forward again, hard, every inch of his impressive member vanishing into the snug, overworked entrance of the banshee's ass, drawing back in long strokes before drilling back into her.
"Nnhh... just... just shut up and..." Sylvanas hissed back, though she seemed to be struggling for words, teeth clenched and arms splayed out at her sides, still quivering with the aftershocks of her explosion of unexpected pleasure. Her eyes squeezed shut for a long moment as she just held on, focusing on the feeling of that huge cock rocketing in and out of her, indulging in it. Then, a gasp of mixed relief and disappointment when the worgen's rod finally slipped free of her completely, leaving a hollow, glistening gape where it had once been buried. "W-what do you think you're--?"
"Sit up," Greymane growled, taking hold of the elf's hair once more and backing her up against one of the building's stone pillars, then pulled her up until she was on her knees. His aim became clear in an instant, as he slid his cock up between the warchief's creamy gray tits, still slick with their combined juices, and thrust upward with a ragged, insistent groan -- he was getting close, and had no intention of planting his cursed seed in any one of the banshee's holes. To his mild surprise, Sylvanas reciprocated, placing both hands at the sides of her breasts to squeeze them together, creating a tight tunnel of cool flesh around his cock, despite an expression of more than mild annoyance.
"Ugh, I can't believe I'm letting you do this." she sighed, looking away but keeping in position on her knees, putting her at the proper elevation for Greymane to fuck her tits while standing. She could feel how close he was to erupting, how the hot veins in his thick cock throbbed and surged with need, ready to explode at any time. It was exhilirating in a way, even if she was already beginning to miss the sensation of actually getting fucked.
"Just sit still and be quiet," Greymane grumbled through labored breath, holding tight to the back of the elf's head and he thrust against her chest, slamming forward as quickly as possible between those soft, pallid tits. He briefly considered shoving his cock into her mouth, but despite the woman's unexpected compliance thus far, he wasn't willing to take the risk of her biting it off. This would have to do... and besides, she felt incredible, her breasts squished tightly around him, providing just enough friction to drive him further and further towards the edge of climax. A tingle crawled up his spine, and the worgen leader arched his back, letting out a howl to the ceiling as he finally erupted, a stream of long, sticky bolts of his accursed spunk shooting up to splatter across the banshee's face. "GraaAAagh--!"
"Pffh--" Sylvanas hissed, reflexively closing one eye to avoid an errant shot of seed, the rest managing to fall more along her cheek, lips, and chin, before dribbling down her neck to pool between her breasts. "Filthy dog, I ought to...."
"Lord Greymane! Are you okay?" A voice could be heard from just outside the temple's entrance, human from the sound of it -- or gilnean, at any rate. Sylvanas's eyes narrowed, and she shoved the worgen back with a husky grunt, still half-naked and covered in cum.
"Reinforcements? How dare--"
Even as Sylvanas reached for her bow, though, Genn pulled back, enough of his strength restored that he could transform once again. Shifting quickly into his feral form, he found himself once more covered in a coat of thick white fur, and lifted one clawed hand as if to attack -- but did not strike, instead snarling out a guttural "Until next time, Dark Lady." Dashing back towards the lamp, he quickly lifted it, smashing it against the floor as he dashed out of the building towards his allies, leaving Sylvanas alone. Alone, and unharmed.
The banshee growled through gritted teeth, lifting her bow and rising to her feet. A few steps brought her back to the shattered remains of the soul cage, that which she'd come here for. Immortality delayed, perhaps impossible. Greymane still alive. A setback, to be certain, but... not an entirely unpleasant one. Under her breath, a whisper, "Until next time, indeed."