Kelly continued introducing me to the tribe members one by one. The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows across their faces, the scent of roasted meat and smoke filling the air.
Then she pulled me toward Rúna, the pale-skinned woman with white hair and blue eyes I'd noticed earlier. Up close, she was even more striking—her skin almost luminous in the firelight, her body slim but curved, her breasts full and firm beneath the hide wrap.
"Sister Rúna," I said, my voice respectful, my gaze lingering just a second too long on the way the hide clung to her hips.
Rúna smiled, her blue eyes curious as they met mine. "Hello, little brother," she murmured, her voice soft but not shy.
Then Kelly gestured toward a mature woman nearby—a voluptuous blonde with bronze skin, her body full and heavy in all the right places. Her breasts were massive, straining against the hide wrap, her golden pubic bush visible beneath the loose fabric.
"This is Aunt Astrid," Kelly said, her voice bright.
Aunt Astrid stepped forward, her hips swaying, her dark eyes assessing me with a seductive glint. "Welcome to the tribe, Welheim," she murmured, her voice low and warm. "If you need anything... anything at all... come to your aunt."
I smirked internally, my gaze dropping to the way her wrap clung to her curves. "Thank you, Aunt Astrid," I said, my voice innocent. "I heard your waist hurts sometimes... If you want, I can examine it... privately... with you lying down..."
Aunt Astrid's eyes widened just slightly, her lips parting in surprise before a slow, knowing smile curved them. "Oh?" she murmured, her voice husky. "We'll see about that..."
Suddenly, a woman stepped into the clearing, her long, white hair catching the firelight like silver.
"Mother!" Rúna called, standing up.
Kelly tugged my hand again, leading me toward the last woman. "And this is Aunt Ylva—Rúna's mother."
Aunt Ylva stepped into the firelight, her long white hair cascading down her back like a river of silver. She was older—fifties, maybe—but fuck, she was built. Her body was full, voluptuous, her tits large and heavy, straining against the hide wrap that barely contained them.
The leaves skirt clung to her wide hips, her ass round and firm, filling out the skirt in a way that made my cock throb. Her skin was pale like Rúna's, but marked with years—lines around her eyes, scars on her arms—evidence of a life lived hard and well. Her blue eyes were sharp, knowing, as if she could see straight through me.
"Aunt Ylva," Kelly said, pulling me closer as the woman approached. "This is Welheim..." She grinned. "He's my brother now."
"Hello, Welheim," Aunt Ylva said, her voice deep and smooth, like warm honey. "Call me Aunt Ylva, just like your sister."
"Aunt Ylva," I repeated, my voice respectful, but my mind was already racing with filthy thoughts.
The way her hide wrap hugged her thick waist, the way her tits swelled above the leaf, the way her bush—white, like Rúna's, but thicker, wilder—peeked out from beneath her skirt. I could already imagine kneeling between her thighs, burying my face in that soft, curly bush, licking her until she screamed.
Kelly beamed up at me, her eyes shining with pride. "Welheim, you're amazing..." She squeezed my hand. "A healer at such a young age..."
I shrugged, pretending modesty, though my gaze kept flicking between the women—Rúna's slim, pale body, Aunt Astrid's mature curves, Aunt Ylva's full, soft flesh. "It's nothing amazing, sister..." I glanced at Aunt Ylva, then back at Kelly. "My grandfather taught me everything..."
Kelly turned to Aunt Astrid, her voice excited. "Aunt Astrid, hasn't your waist been hurting these days?" She grinned. "Why don't you let Welheim see it?"
Aunt Astrid's gaze snapped to me, her eyes darkening with something hungry. "If Welheim thinks it'll help..." Her voice was low, suggestive, as if she already knew exactly what kind of help I had in mind.
I let my gaze linger on her waist—thick, soft, perfect for gripping—before meeting her eyes. "Sister..." I said, my voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "I have to take a closer look... at Aunt's waist..." My fingers itched to touch her, to trace the curves of her body. "Examine it properly..."
Kelly nodded eagerly. "You have to help Aunt Astrid, Welheim..."
"Don't worry, sister..." I murmured, my voice a promise. "I'll definitely help Aunt Astrid..."
Rúna spoke up, her voice concerned but laced with curiosity. "But, Welheim... but do you need any herbs?"
I pretended to think, my eyes still locked on Aunt Astrid's full, inviting body. "First, I have to see Aunt's waist clearly..." I let my voice drop, suggestive, filthy. "See where she's hurting..." My gaze flickered to Kelly. "It's best if she's lying down... so I can examine her properly..."
Kelly grinned, "Don't worry, if Aunt Astrid needs herbs. I'll ask my father to get the herbs Welheim needs to heal Aunt Astrid..."
Suddenly, as Kelly was talking, I spotted the familiar faces of the guards I'd met earlier with Grom. They were heading straight toward me, their expressions friendly yet purposeful.
One of them—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a confident stride—stepped forward and said, "Hey, Welheim! Once you're done eating, come with us. We'd love to show you around the place." His voice was warm, almost inviting, as if they'd been waiting for this moment.
Without hesitation, they began introducing themselves. The first, a man with sharp features and a quick smile, extended his hand and said, "I'm Patt." Next was Eric, who had a calm, measured demeanor, nodding as he spoke his name.
Then came Luke, the most talkative of the group, already launching into a story about something that had happened earlier in the day. Finally, Joe, the quietest of them all, simply gave a firm handshake and a nod, his presence steady and reassuring.
I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere—on Aunt Ylva, on Aunt Irene, on the way this tribe was unfolding before me like a feast of flesh and desire. The women's bodies—Rúna's pale, tight curves, Aunt Astrid's mature, voluptuous figure, Aunt Ylva's full, soft flesh—burned in my mind, each one a promise of pleasure waiting to be claimed.
Then Aunt Astrid's voice cut through the chatter, her tone playful but sharp. "Kelly... when is your man coming back?"
Kelly glanced up, smiling. "Krag? He should be back soon..." She shrugged, her voice light. "The sun is going down. He'll be here with father and Uncle Tharok..."
Krag.
The name triggered a memory—the young hunter I'd met with Tharok and Grom. The one Tharok had introduced as the tribe's youngest hunter. The one whose woman—Kelly—was now standing beside me, her hand still clasped in mine.
I smirked internally, my gaze lingering on Kelly's curves, the way her hide skirt clung to her ass, the way her tits swelled beneath the leaves.
Sorry, Krag.
Your woman is mine now.
And I'll mold her into my shape.