Kagome’s heart seemed to stop. She had a split-second to register his words, a fraction of a heartbeat—and then he was stabbing into her, cleaving her open around him in the most exquisite, excruciating way.

A frayed scream ripped from her throat. But he didn’t pause. He didn’t quicken either. He just kept spearing into her, impaling her slowly but surely along the broad, stony length of his shaft. Unlike the rest of him, this part of him wasn’t cold at all—it was a beam of hellfire, lancing into her, melting her down from within. Her teeth scored into her swollen lower lip. Hot blood bathed her tongue. The black flinty ground splintered under her nails, as she curled her fingers into the burned, broken earth in a desperate bid for purchase.

Sheathing himself into her to the hilt, Sesshoumaru let out a groan so growlsome and full of primal satiation it rattled through her bones. “Kagome…” With a surge, he stabbed deeper, and her breath burst from her bloodily at the jolt. “Mine, at last.”

His voice was like tumbling stones. Beneath it, Kagome broke down altogether. Collapsing onto her elbows, she sobbed into the ash. With each guttering sob, she could feel herself convulsing around him. His pulse beat within her, in concert with her own pounding heartbeat, a sick sordid symphony of union. It pitted her sunken stomach that much lower, this visceral, goring sensation. At the gate of her womb, she felt the white hot stab of him like a ram, caving her in. Against the onslaught of his demonic assault, both ends of her wept profusely. Her reiki roiled, frenzied and disorganized as her thoughts.

Lying there hobbled and skewered beneath him, Kagome felt like she was dying. She was in hell already, and he hadn’t even yet started to move. She was in fiery agony, without and within.

She told herself that she hated this—

But she only wished that she did.

Because with little hungry motions of her hips, she was already urging him on. Grinding back against him, she huffed and whimpered, as if trying to bear up under the pain of his invasion, when in truth she was only goading him subtly, insistently.

Of course he saw through this. Of course he would spare her battered pride no shame.

Sesshoumaru’s claws bit into her hip, stilling her soundly. “So eager,” he rumbled, burying back into her and rooting himself there, wooden and unyielding in her torrid, aching depths. “But not yet. I want to savor this.”

Kagome ground her teeth in a rage of frustration. A part of her did hate him then. As if beating her into submission weren’t enough, he had to lord himself over her devastation. But then, as she was stewing over this, suffering from the need that was burning her up from within, he started to move. A tortuous drag at her insides, this slow, indulgent scrape. His cock was like a weapon of torture as it reamed her out, confirming all her worst fears in its fiendish slide—

He felt even better than she’d always feared he would.

It whited-out her mind, the sensation of him moving in her. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Her reiki froze in its vehement course. A barrage of images swirled before her, a chaotic jumble. Fragments of memory, of dreams forgotten. Of visions she couldn’t place. Shadowy figures rippling at the fringes of her subconsciousness.

As he possessed her, she felt possessed by forces that stifled her to deathly stillness. It was as though her life were flashing before her eyes. In a frisson of horror, she was transported—to the night of that freak accident that had killed her.

She had drowned to death in that icy river, and now she was experiencing the shadow of it again—

She was drowning in him.

Her fighting instinct returned with a flaring vengeance. Before she even realized it, she was giving back to him almost as good as she was getting. As he pummeled her, she strangled him. Her hips surged back as his surged forward, and they were growling and snapping in vicious tandem, reiki and youki flaring fit to scald. With relish, she cut into him, as savagely as she could.

“Yes, Sesshoumaru, fuck me harder—harder, gods damn you!”

Gravelly and unhinged, a cacophony of laughter grated against her ears, as he grated her from within. “Tell me something else, you mad panting bitch. I’m fucking you hard enough as it is.”

And he was, he was. He was fucking her so hard her bones were creaking. He was fucking her so hard she struggled to breathe through the smothering miasmic haze. But just as her vision began to spot, her reiki flared to clear it again, to punish him again—as thoroughly and sublimely as he was punishing her. Her blood boiled in her veins. Her cunt was a seething inferno.

Sesshoumaru laughed, a mad jarring snarl of sound. Psychotic. Utterly deranged. Reveling in the ecstasy of her incineration.

“Tell me, Kagome,” he demanded. His voice quaked through her. “Tell me now.”

Violently, she resisted. Her reiki slashed into him, a maelstrom of sheer annihilation. Even in her depleted state, it was enough to purify a demon horde a hundred times over. But Sesshoumaru was a horde unto himself. Even as his claws busted and his charred skin began to peel away from his adamant bones, he pressed her still.

His cracked claws cut into her blazing flesh, as he swelled so hot and hellishly hard within her. “Tell me.”

Kagome’s insides knotted around him, like a livewire cinched taut. She could feel the red heat of his gaze scorching into her like undiluted flame. He was teetering on the razor edge, and she was there with him. He was on the bleeding edge of transformation, and if he let himself go, if he transformed now, he would rip her apart like so much wet silk.

Against the rising tumult, she said in a defeated whisper, “…I love you.”

But it wasn’t enough. She knew it wasn’t enough even before he demanded—

“How much?”

She was losing herself now, too. She was coming apart, unraveling at the seams. She was all fire under the meager casing of her skin. Trapped only beneath him, suspended only on this thread of shared insanity that bound them together.

His demand was the tipping point. The precipice from which there was no return.

“More than Inuyasha,” she confessed bitterly. “More than my mother, my father, my little brother. More than myself. More than anyone—anyone, you filthy fucking fiend!”

Deeper than ever, he rammed into her. But the shocks that raged against her ravaged womb were nothing, nothing compared to the sudden clamp of his fangs at the junction of her shoulder and neck. Like a set of wicked blades they punched into her flesh, into her spirit, and then he was rampaging through every fiber of her being. His youki, his all-consuming presence, roared through her as he roared aloud himself, as the blinding white ecstasy of their soldered passion thundered through them both.

Kagome was lost along with him. Slain and resurrected in the span of a moment—as her mortal flesh gave way to the immortal form that recast it in his image.

Against this steely new shell, the soulfire that had been raging in her for years at last was contained. She felt the absence of its continual pain in a fresh rush of euphoria that left her dazed, long after the climax of their mating had passed.

By then, Sesshoumaru had released her from within. Unknotted, he slid from her, though his hair and limbs remained tangled up with hers still. When he finally stepped clear of her, she crumpled bereft to the blasted earth. For a time, all she could do was sluggishly breathe. The base of her neck blazed like dots of acid had been bored into it. Her flesh felt foreign to her still, as she gave her too-light fingers an experimental flex.

At last, she dragged herself up onto her knees. Exhausted, she peered bleary-eyed around her. With her enhanced vision, even the darkness of night was too crisp, let alone the sight of him. She clenched her eyes shut against the nausea that slammed at her throat. When she collected herself and opened her eyes again, there Sesshoumaru stood, clothed once more in his sheening white silks and fur, with Bakusaiga slid through the yellow sash at his waist.

For a moment, he looked her over, before he turned and walked away.

“Come along,” he said, when she remained frozen and kneeling in his wake.

Kagome felt the command like the pull of some invisible, inexorable rein. Before she even knew what she was doing, she’d scrambled to her feet and started after him. Belatedly, she realized that she was still stark naked, with only the blood, ash and grime of their mating clinging to her. Overflowing her womb, his seed trickled from her, thick sticky rivulets of it snaking down her thighs.

The night wind whipped through the trees. Kagome shuddered, hugging her arms around herself as best she could with her broken bow in hand. It was a grip that tightened white-knuckled as she peered through the darkness with her new, sharp eyes. Through the trees, she saw a shadowy congregation—

Youkai of every breed, from lowly sprites to fearsome daiyoukai. An audience of ghastly, glowing-eyed demons, who gazed back at her with expressions ranging from leering to wary. This was Sesshoumaru’s uncounted multitude, the great assembled legions of the Western Lands. Gathered here in dark sacrament. Gathered here to witness the consummation of their liege lord—

And lady.

Kagome recognized a few. There was Jakken with Ah-Un, and the army of imps who served him. Rising from the mists of a distant river was a serpentine beast so gigantic it towered over all the rest. The draconic daiyoukai who lounged atop its horned crown could only be the River Lord and his offspring. The inuyoukai she saw as she turned could only be Sesshoumaru’s own kin.

At the westernmost edge of the clearing, at the forefront of this fell congregation, Sesshoumaru’s mother stood, with Hirokin beside her. Before them, Sesshoumaru paused. In Hirokin’s hands was a familiar red bundle. As Kagome approached, a look passed between lord and tactician—the merest shadow of a glance, but it was enough to convey a shared understanding. With narrowed eyes, Kagome observed this. They understood each other very well, it seemed.

Inclining his head, Hirokin offered the red bundle to her. “Kagome-sama,” he said, demurring.

Kagome glared at him, her aura bristling. She hadn’t forgotten his treachery, and never would. From the subtle, salacious shiver of his youki, he understood this too. Tucking her bow under her arm, she snatched the bundle from him. It was the Robe of the Fire-Rat, with Tessaiga re-sheathed and wrapped up in it. Hers to keep.

Hers to bequeath.

Ahead of her, Sesshoumaru had moved on. From the moonlit clearing, he crossed into the shadowed trees. Holding her treasures to her, Kagome turned her back to Hirokin and all the rest, and followed her husband into the dark.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Thank you all for sharing this journey with me! It’s wild to be here, at last at the end. Hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did!

Here’s to more adventures to come! On that note, stay tuned for the epilogue 😉

<3

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