To Fall into Rut by Mlmonty

The Capture

Dusk was approaching the clearing as a hush covered the area, giving a false sense of peace. A small breeze flowed through it, gently tugging at hair and clothing. The Lord of the Western Lands stood tall and proud, staring coldly down his nose at the circle of impudent monks that surrounded him. They were nothing more than pests, a mere inconvenience to him. He lifted a hand to move a stray strand of silver hair away from his face and hooked it behind a delicately pointed ear. The monks tensed at the gesture, nervousness and fear rolling off of them in waves. Narrowing his eyes, Sesshoumaru waited impatiently for them to make their move.

He still had half of his lands to finish patrolling before he could head back to the castle. In his opinion that sure as hell beat standing here within a circle of demon exterminators. Even if it meant that he would need to complete endless paperwork, it would certainly be better than this.

If he were anyone else, by now, he would be grumbling, however Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands, would never do something so undignified. It had started out as a terrible day, and hadn't gotten any better. His retainer had caused a large and unnecessary amount of commotion about a letter and its contents early on in the morning. Sesshoumaru had received formal documentation from the demon council causing a slight headache to form. They intended to call a meeting of all four lords and the council members about Sesshoumaru's current lack of a mate. This news had to be dealt with and had caused him to fall behind schedule. He loathed being behind schedule.

'What a waste of time, the council does not command the actions of this Sesshoumaru and I do not intend to bind myself to a bitch until I feel ready. Which isn't going to happen anytime soon,' Sesshoumaru thought with an annoyed mental scowl, presenting his emotionless mask to the world even as he wondered when the confrontation with these monks would end. Better yet when would it begin as they were currently standing and doing nothing, merely giving him calculating looks. 'Besides, I haven't entered my first rut yet. There is still plenty of time for this Sesshoumaru to find a suitable bitch.' Sesshoumaru felt insulted. True he was the youngest demon lord of the four that ruled Japan, but he was far from stupid. He knew the other lords and the council members wished for their daughters to be present during his rut, hoping his beast would choose one of them as his mate.

His contemplations didn't last as a voice called out to him, pulling him rather rudely from his thoughts. He snapped his fangs together with a soft click, displeased that he had been interrupted from his important train of thoughts. It may not have been terribly important, but it was more important than these worthless human monks, of that he was sure. He once more felt a stab of annoyance, they weren't worth his time. Even combined as they were they didn't match his strength. He couldn't allow them to live though. They had challenged him and he wouldn't spare their lives. Maybe if he was lucky they'd put up a decent fight.

"You spawn of the devil I, Ungai, am here to purge this world of filth such as yourself. Death is not good enough for one such as you. You must atone for your sins. You, whom have inflicted so much pain on others, must feel such pain yourself before you can be allowed the bliss of death," Ungai, the head monk of the small group of demon exterminators declared imperiously, making Sesshoumaru narrow his eyes even further while inwardly seething at the insignificant monk's autocratic tone. He was a little affronted that such a lowly human like Ungai had used such a degrading tone with him, the Lord of the West.

'This Sesshoumaru has committed no atrocities.' he released a mental sigh, 'I can hardly be bothered to correct every group of ignorant humans.' It was true Sesshoumaru showed no mercy to his enemies and the rare prisoners he took were kept alive only until he received what information that could be gained. He, however, never went around killing innocents. What was the point? They offered no challenge and he gained nothing from it.

Mentally shaking his head from further petty thoughts, Sesshoumaru watched with a calculating eye as the group of holy men, whom had remained still during the old man's speech, began moving around him in a swish of coarse, dark blue cloth. An electric blue circle formed at his feet that erupted into equally colored flames, forcing him to not move lest he burn himself with its holy fire. The demon seethed. He could feel his blood boil at their audacity. It rushed along just under his skin fueling his anger. The dangerous lord released a snarl, his thin lips pulled back to show his deadly fangs. The fading rays of the setting sun causing the sharp edges to glint threateningly.

Ungai's weathered features broke into a triumphant grin as he accused the demon lord, "Now you show your true self, demon. I will rid this world of you Men, capture him and render him unconscious, but do not kill him."

Sesshoumaru, in his own detached manner, envisioned the man going on incessantly about killing him. He could picture being forced to stand there encircled by the blue holy fire for all eternity as the man droned on. The fire burned almost enthusiastically at his feet as if in anticipation to such torture. 'What a terrible fate that would be,' he mused quietly to himself. 'Surely that would be far worst than anything they believe I have done.' Suddenly something broke him out of his reverie.

Unified shouts of "Yes Master Ungai" echoed across the clearing. Sesshoumaru smirked, a fang that poked from his thin lips glinting red from the dying light. Finally they were getting down to business. Sandal clad feet pattered heavily as they ran around Sesshoumaru, forming a blurred circle. They chanted continuously. Their voices were becoming like a buzz in Sesshoumaru's sensitive ears, similar to the sound a hive of bees made.

With a soft growl, Sesshoumaru realized he was at a disadvantage since he couldn't move. How could he allow his thoughts to wonder so much? True the monks offered little threat, but it was still unacceptable. 'I will no longer dally with such fools. I will kill them and leave as soon as this accursed ring of purifying fire disperses.' His thoughts were nearly spat out in anger.

Sesshoumaru's eyes widened unnoticeably, bleeding a dark fuchsia at what transpired next. He wasn't exactly fond of the word holy and he sure as hell hated anything holy near his person. He was highly resistant to being purified but being hit with it still hurt like hell. Worst of all his original plan was no longer going to work. His youki was being taken right out of his very essence.

The men chanted while they covered Sesshoumaru in holy sutras; the sacred paper glowed a bright blue as the demon lord winced. He was able to dodge a few but the tight circle of fire made it all but impossible. Cursing in his mind as they bit into his skin, seeming to leech his youki from the very depths of his soul, he felt himself weaken. 'How can they be this powerful? It doesn't make sense. They shouldn't be able to pull this off, their not strong enough even combined.' Another wave of weakness over took the demon lord.

"What is this?" Sesshoumaru's commanding tone resonated through the field, his back straight and strong even with the weakening of his power. He landed his steely golden gaze on Ungai, demanding answers with the will and strength of his eyes alone. Ungai tugged a little at his robes, looking as if he were nervous. 'The fool should be nervous,' Sesshoumaru thought with a snort of derision.

Having mustered his courage Ungai stopped his tugging and gave a sneering glare that wavered at Sesshoumaru's fierce one. "So the beast can speak, how amazing. Let me explain to someone as uneducated as you, what we are doing here is called the, 'Youki Vacuum'," He murmured in a mocking tone. Obviously his courage was seriously lacking. He couldn't even gloat in a convincing manner. "Its main function, as you can already feel no doubt, is to absorb the youki of any demon caught. Powerful or not all demons fall before this holy spell." For the first time Sesshoumaru noticed something disturbing in the man's eyes. Madness. "After this process is completed, you will feel as weak as a newborn kitten."

Hating that this measly old monk had so blatantly regarded him as an uneducated person, Sesshoumaru refused to allow his back to bend with the sudden lack of strength he felt. The arrogant lord sniffed disdainfully at the pitifully unaware human. "This Sesshoumaru has lived for centuries and is more knowledgeable than you will ever become. I have heard of this 'Youki Vacuum' plenty of times during my travels," he responded expressing his overwhelming haughtiness.

Though he had neglected to tell the impudent monk that he had never been treated to such a spell before, it came out as odd to him as to how he could withstand most poisons fed into his body, and yet be so vulnerable to holy spells. It was true he was less susceptible than most and they were specially designed to harm a demons body, but it ticked him off to have any weakness pertaining to holy spells. Those annoying things burned horribly. Once they started the long process of healing they itched even worse than the burns themselves. Already the effects of the spell the monks had cast were taking their toll on him.

Sesshoumaru let his beast out with a slight growl, but his youki was already far too depleted for him to do anything but remain in his weaker humanoid form. He heard his beast roar in anger, but his youki was simply too far gone to allow a transformation of that magnitude.

'Just how fast does this spell work?' Sesshoumaru thought. A slight frown tugged at his lips. His knees trembling at another sudden loss of youki that farther weakened his body, but he stood tall. As a last attempt to free himself, he allowed his claws to lengthen. Poison pooled under the surface of his fingertips, before he swung his whip. He watched with savage glee as his whip burned its way through skin and bone, beheading two of the unsuspecting monks before the lack of youki rendered him unable to summon his poison whip.

Silence reigned as the monks started to weaver in their resolve. They stared in revulsion at the decapitated bodies of their comrades. Blood pooled around their severed necks, the smell of burnt flesh and coppery tinge of the blood hung heavy in the evening air. They stood unable to react due to the suffocating fear and disgust engulfing them. Ungai planted his jingling staff firmly on the ground in front of him. Authority rang loudly in his voice while he worked his holy powers through the staff. "Let the spell take hold of you immediately for killing my followers you vile beast."

The monks holy powers glowed a vibrant blue around him and raced in the air towards the tiring demon lord. Sesshoumaru was on a bent knee keeping himself upright with the help of Tokijin, unsheathed and tip buried in the soft spring ground. Ungai's efforts quickened Sesshoumaru's loss of youki. With a low hiss of anger, the demon lord's balance wavered and his grip on the sword slackened causing him to slide further towards the ground. Most of his weight now on the sword.

Sesshoumaru knew he had overused his limited amount of remaining youki and with the command infused in Ungai's spell adding on to his exhaustion, he, the Lord of the West, suddenly felt all his energy drain from him. He managed to remain conscious long enough to hear the monks cursing, trying to figure out how he had managed to produce his poison whip with his youki draining away. He felt his world tip from underneath his dignified form, forcing him to the ground as his eyes blurred. The darkness that crept over his vision had nothing to do with the encroaching night and everything to do with him losing consciousness.

Insanely pleased laughter crawled slimily over the battlefield. "This is it," Ungai laughed with a sadistic form of happiness bubbling in his tone, "This filthy demon can be brought back to our shrine where he will be placed in a dungeon below the temple. Izanagi and Izanami smile upon us It's perfect, he will be trapped and unable to escape with the holy powers around the shrine even if he recovers his youki," and he stumbled, having used a little too much power to quicken the effect of the youki vacuum. Perspiration beaded on his forehead as he breathed heavily, trying to get his breath back.

'Finally I have captured The Great Lord Sesshoumaru. This specimen of the devil's spawn I will torture to make him feel the pain his victims felt until I deem him fit to die for all his crimes.' Ungai smiled through his weariness, bringing a long sleeve of his monks' robe towards his face he dabbed at the sweat.

"Master Ungai Are you alright?" Some of his followers surrounded him concerned. Nodding, Ungai stood up with no little effort. "After we bury our comrades, we shall head back to Izanagi and Izanami's holy temple".

A chorus of cheers rose from the small group of men even as their two dead comrades lay headless on the ground. In the night thick, cooling black blood spread away slowly from the corpses. A lone figure lay on the ground, no longer surrounded by holy fire. With his youki drained and at his weakest, Sesshoumaru was unconscious. His pristine white clothes remained dazzling even in the virgin night. "Men Take the demonic swords from the demons' possession and wrap them in cloth. We do not want him armed when he lies in his cell, understand?" Ungai ordered sharply.

"Yes, Master Ungai We understand" rang out as some of the men knelt next to the limp form. Chanting a quick spell to prevent the sentient swords from attacking them they were quickly wrapped. After tying the swords into a bundle, they rested a while more, before setting out with Sesshoumaru's body in tow.

A young priestess hummed a rhyme she had heard from her mother as a child, one that intrigued her to no end, "Kagome, Kagome, the bird in the cage, when will you come out? In the evening of the dawn, the crane and turtle slipped. Who stands right behind you now?"

When she had been still a young child, she had played this game with the village children. She had been forced to start her training to be the village's next priestess, for the last one had been aged when Kagome was still small. With a wistful smile, Kagome still remembered when the kind face of her elderly teacher had first appeared to her those fifteen years ago. She had peered at Kagome as if she could see the level of power she held.

A sad smile tilted her lips as she thought about how she had been at her teachers deathbed just a few months ago. It was then that the dying priestess had encouraged her with her last words. My dear girl, you are young and have plenty of power in you, enough to protect the village until you are as old as I. Do not fret' you will do everything just fine. She had left then, but her words still rang solemnly in Kagome's mind.

Just recently a traveling priestess had settled in her village and pleaded for Kagome to allow her to stay. She was tired of traveling and wished to stay in the village as its priestess. Begging to stay was begging Kagome to leave. One village cannot have more than one priestess protecting its people, and Kagome knew it by heart as much as she knew which herbs were most useful. She had been taught this and many other things by her departed teacher.

The simple reason behind that logic was the unspoken law between those of holy ranks. One village didn't need two holy protectors. If the current priestess took in an apprentice one must leave when the apprentice was promoted to priestess. The one to leave would have to become a traveling priestess, helping the rest of the world. Kagome had acquiesced to becoming the 'other' priestess. The one whom traveled was also essentially an 'outcast' of her village.

Kagome still remembered when she had bid her mother and brother farewell. She doubted she would ever see them again unless she came back for a visit. 'Mama had sobbed so heart wrenchingly, and Souta,' she sighed. 'He was comforting mama, what a good brother of mine. Of course, he's older by quite a few years than me. I wonder what papa would done had he been alive.' Kagome thought sadly, eyes clouding over with memories of her father. He had died from a rouge demon attack many years ago, before anyone could even get to his aid.

At that thought, Kagome strengthened her resolve to do her job well, 'I will become a good priestess and I will save the lives of those who are attacked by rouge demons. Just watch me.' That last part she seemed to direct to the wandering priestess, who had in a way made her leave her home, her heart and the place she was most comfortable in.

Darkness smothered the dungeon underneath the holy temple of Izanagi and Izanami's shrine. A silhouette of a lean sinewy body could barely be seen. It lay motionless on the cold, hard, filth covered floor. A solid metal collar fastened tightly around the male's pale, muscular neck, restraining him and preventing him from using his demonic powers to escape from his cell. Holy powers were weaved through the collar. The youki had been drained from his body leaving him too weak to even crush one of the insects that skittered around him.

Maroon shaded lids with thick silver lashes languidly opened. Unfocused amber eyes shone brightly in the near consuming darkness, blinking a few times to readjust to the dim light. A low groan emitted from his dry throat. The weakness he felt in his limbs was so great that he couldn't even find the strength to raise them from the ground. His whole body felt heavy. It disgusted him.

He wanted to get up and rip away the flimsy iron grills that trapped him. The lack of youki, however, made him unable to do anything but stay where he was. His rest hadn't even been enough to replenish more than the slightest bit of his youki. It was only enough for him to remain conscious for a short time.

'This Sesshoumaru must admit I did not expect to be so drained of energy. How was it possible for their attack to work? Even with their combined efforts it should not have been strong enough to capture me.' His eyes widened slightly with comprehension. 'Ungai's staff. He must have been using it to focus the spell, amplifying its power.' He was unsure of how he had missed the fact that the monk even had the damn thing until the end. 'I need to find out where I am and what this accursed collar is.' Sesshoumaru grunted softly. 'They took my swords as well.' he thought with slight agitation. He didn't like being away from both his swords, though it was expected in this situation. His eyes narrowed as he lifted his perfectly shaped nose to scent the surrounding stale air. He hoped to pick up recognizable scents he could use to pinpoint the locations of his captors.

Growling when he smelt nothing that could be remotely useful, he allowed himself to rest in a heap on the floor. He didn't know what else he could do except lay still and try to formulate a plan of sorts while he let his youki replenish itself. 'Did those fools think that without my swords I am helpless? I must be in some form of shrine. Those traveling monks have nowhere else to go.' It wasn't to hard to figure out some answers to his questions, but he still needed more information on what was going on.

Sesshoumaru stretched out as far as he could with his limp muscles. Slowly he allowed the lull of sleep to gently embrace him to conserve what little energy he had and replenish his sorely depleted youki. As he succumbed to the healing darkness he wanted the situation to end soon so he could get back to his castle and take care of paperwork. 'There's going to be a shit load of paperwork to do when I get back. I hope there isn't going to be too much though, it's so tiring.'

The clanging of iron grilles opening snapped Sesshoumaru's world back into place. He cracked an eye open glaring lazily at the pair of monks that had just come in for the rude interruption of his nap. Sneers met his glare as they looked at him with something akin to glee in their brown eyes. "You filthy demon, Master Ungai is tired tonight, and has bestowed upon us the honor of helping you atone for your sins." Sesshoumaru was quite sure that he had never heard the word 'demon' hold so much hatred before. It was spat out with such venom that if he had been a lesser male he would have recoiled from it.

"For killing our friends you shall know pain like no other," the second man condemned, his eyes glinting in a depraved manner. One he had never seen in a monk before and it led him to wonder how and why this male became one of the holy ranks. "Be thankful, beast, that the master has burdened himself with your salvation."

'Maybe he just happened to have holy powers.' Sesshoumaru thought with an internal shrug, not particularly bothered by the threats he had received from the two monks before him. "Do what you will, I do not care," he replied. His tone was detached and laced with ice so cold it seemed to burn.

With an ugly smirk the first monk laughed lowly in glee. "Let's see if you will sing the same tune after we're done with you."

"By then we shall see if you really do not care what we do to you," the second one gloated. "We'll have you begging to stop, monster"

At the taunts, Sesshoumaru just flicked a glance at them before looking away, mouth pressed into a thin line at their presumption that the Lord of the Western Lands would beg to be let off. 'Preposterous, this Sesshoumaru would never do such a thing even if I were on the cusp of death. These two hold little holy power which is next to incapable of harming me.'

The dungeon was roomy and the monks used that fact to their advantage. They drug him to the wall furthest from the entrance and chained him to it. He could see and even smell the streaks of dried blood on the walls and floor. Tilting his head he even noticed some had made it on the ceiling. His body pressed was flush with the dingy wall. His hands stretched over his head high enough and far enough apart that only the tips of his toes rested on the floor. An impressive feat, considering his height. He was still too weak to move, he needed more rest and time to recover his youki. The chains were more of a means to keep him upright than to prevent attack or escape.

"Do not forget to thank Master Ungai for that lovely collar, demon. It is there so that though you will have the freedom to crawl around in your cell, you will not have any power to strike the monks that come in here. A wonderful thing do you not think?" The sick curl of the second monks lips made Sesshoumaru wonder if he was mentally unstable. It would explain how he seemingly took pleasure at the prospect of causing pain. Who relishes harming others? Even Sesshoumaru did not enjoy harming others. It was necessary at times yes but to enjoy it? Deriving pleasure from a battle he understood. The way his blood sings as he fights for his life, the pounding of his heart as he moves across the battle field, the sounds of metal clashing against metal and voices raised in pain and victory ringing in his ears. This he understood. It was the way of a warrior. There was honor in it and your enemy has a chance to fight back and survive based on merit, skill and luck.

"Disgusting." Sesshoumaru spat, narrowed eyes focused sharply on the human males looking over his shoulder at them. Without a word, the man punched the proud lord squarely in the face, his smirk grew as he realized the hit had left a faint mark on Sesshoumaru's cheek.

A deep rumbling growl had erupted from Sesshoumaru's chest when he felt the slight sting of the hit. The demon lord was angry at himself for still feeling weak even after a short rest and infinitely angrier at the monks who had placed him in this degrading position. 'Although I must admit that if I had disposed of the monks sooner I might not have been in such a position.' Sesshoumaru thought. Overall he decided that it was slightly his fault for delaying in their deaths during the confrontation thus leading him to such a dismal result.

The reason the hit had even affected him was because he needed his youki to heal fast. Without the normal supply he usually had, his body practically functioned like a human one would. "Maybe abominations like you aren't quite so strong after all", the monk said. Shaking his head in laughter he lifted a staff from a weapons rack on the wall. He withdrew a knife from a secret compartment at one end of the staff. The metal eagerly caught the dim light. Though the dungeon was far from clean it seemed the monks kept good care of their tools. Sesshoumaru tensed as the male stepped up to him. In his condition he wouldn't be able to stand much and he knew it. The back of his shirt was gripped roughly and sound of silk tearing echoed in the quiet room bouncing off the grey walls.

"Now from what I hear you demons can heal really fast. Almost instantly." The voice curled around Sesshoumaru almost like a lover's whisper, low and husky, filled with the need to torture. Cool air accosted his naked skin as his shirt was cut away from his back. "I wonder how fast you will heal with your youki drained. That collar will suppress it but it won't stop it from returning." Sesshoumaru tensed again at the softly spoken words whispered in his hear. The hot breath of his tormentor caressing the skin at the back of his neck, making him uncomfortable with a man pressing against him.

A sharp blinding pain left Sesshoumaru breathless and gasping. "Now I want you to scream for me this being our first time and all." The voice still held the quality of a wanton lover as the hot breath fluttered against his neck. "After all this time is special. Once your youki replenishes itself it won't be quite the same. You'll heal pretty fast then and it'll take that special something away."

The deep slash was oozing with his unique blood. He could feel it sliding down his skin hot and sticky. A soft gold shimmer mixed with the dark red. The monk behind him finally moved away to look at his work. With quiet gasps, the monks could clearly be heard discussing him. "You even have abnormal blood. This does nothing but prove just how dirty and tainted you demons are." Sesshoumaru had no desire to answer such filthy humans so he remained as he was quiet, without a single sound.

Allowing his eyes to flutter shut he rested his forehead against the cool damp wall. Sesshoumaru took a deep breath to quell the surge of pain as the monks took turns carving his back. It hurt worse than some more grievous wounds he'd received in the past. The difference being before he started to heal as soon as he received the wounds. Now he had to wait till his youki replenished. The pathetic puddle of youki he had left in him was barely enough to keep him conscious, much less enable him to heal from his wounds.

Cursing the monks in his mind, Sesshoumaru refused to show weakness. Refused to throw his head back and howl like an injured animal. Instead he kept his forehead pressed to the cool wall of the dungeon, studiously ignoring the smells of his own blood, the dried blood of previous captives and the sent of sweat from his tormentors. Carefully he reminded himself not to give his captors the pleasure of seeing him pass out, even as he felt the last of his youki rush to the surface to heal the gashes that were continually being cut into his body. He reminded himself of what the monk had said. The collar suppressed his youki but it didn't stop it from replenishing itself. He'd heal in time. Youki didn't need to be summoned forth for healing like it did for his poison whip. While he wouldn't be able to use his whip he'd be able to heal once it was recovered. If only he'd be left alone long enough for it to happen.

After a while they stopped, and Sesshoumaru knew something worse was going to come. He gritted his teeth just in time to brace himself for the oncoming pain. He heard the air crack seconds before a whip snapped across his broken skin. His eyes snapped wide open, Sesshoumaru's throat could be seen convulsing as he kept the snarl of pain hidden within him just under the surface. A low thrumming growl broke through though, and he could practically hear his captors smile. Once more he felt the monk lean into his ear his fetid breath on his neck. "You know if you had only screamed for me it'd be over with by now. No matter I'll have you screaming yet." He could hear the other monk taunting him with, "So the demon can feel pain after all," and "maybe this should be done more frequently to keep the filth on his toes, allows him to know what fear of pain truly is like."

A particularly harsh crack of the whip hit one of Sesshoumaru's deeper wounds, causing him to stiffen in pain, teeth gritted tightly to stop the sounds that wanted to tear from his throat. His throat was starting to feel sore due to the effort he used to keep himself quiet. His pride refusing to allow the monks the pleasure of seeing him being affected by the torture.

With every whip his breath was knocked out of him. He grew to dread the cracking sound in the air signaling another strike. His back was in tatters. There was no other way to describe it. Flaps of skin hung off his wounds, his golden streaked blood pooling around his feet. In a way his back began to feel numb. It hurt so much that the new wounds were no longer felt, and his breath was nearly knocked out of his from the force of the whip. Sesshoumaru wondered, even amidst the pain, when this would end.

Eventually his captors became tired from whipping him so hard, and simply released his hands, leaving him to fall to the ground in a graceful heap. A graceful but mentally and physically exhausted heap. 'They left,' Sesshoumaru thought groggily before sinking into the blissful haven of sleep, heavy maroon lids drifting closed.

Sesshoumaru was slow in regaining the movements of his limbs, a sleepy look in his eyes declared for him without the need of words that he had just woken up. When he turned to examine his surroundings and see if any of the enemy were present, he found none. He supposed he felt a tad uncomfortable in this place due to it being a holy shrine of some gods or another, though essentially, that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

Sesshoumaru let out a silent sigh. He suddenly felt an odd stirring deep in his groin. When he moved he realized his youki had been pretty much replenished, and he could move freely about the cell. Someone must have drug him back into it after he passed out in the torture chamber. Carefully he flexed his back muscles and found that other than a tender ache he was mostly healed. Warmth pooled and spread throughout his body giving him an odd feeling. When he moved, a form of aching pain seemed to make his body shudder a little.

His eyes widened. Sesshoumaru had read about it enough times to know what was happening to him. His first rut had arrived and already from what he could tell it was not going to be pleasant, unless he had a female to sate his needs on. The first rut was always the worst as it was. It was the most demanding, the time where his beast could very well take over in its need to mate. Sesshoumaru did not grouse about bad timing, about how of all the times his rut could have come, it did not and instead decided to come now. He just wasn't the type of male to complain about such insignificant things. Besides he knew it was coming this spring just not when. It was five years after reaching his sexual maturity and like all demons he knew that meant his first rut this spring. He had known it would happen sooner than later. And it was happening now.

'This could either go very bad, or it could turn out half decent,' Sesshoumaru concluded before moving towards a wall and propping himself on it. Leaning back to rest on it he let his mind drift as his body began to heat with need.