MasukThade’s POV
Yes, she says without a pause and I’m so incredibly grateful. I wonder if she can tell that I was holding my breath. I’ve won a prize, or something. After kissing Lana, it was clear she wasn’t a whore, that she’s sweet and innocent and inexperienced. I could feel the longing in her body, everything in her wound tighter than a bow string. Lana told me I can kiss her again and I don’t hesitate either. I watch, mesmerized as a drop of cool water peels away from her rich dark curls and slides over her features, pooling at the corner of her mouth. I lean forward and press my lip to the bead of moisture. I’m so curious about everything she is. Where did she come from, why is she here? First I want to taste her again, and see so much more of her. My wolf, Kilak, is raging at me from within. He’s desperate to tear off the clothes that cling with such invitation to her soft skin and to sink into her. Claim her! He’s snarling at me and it’s taking far too much effort to keep him in check. Illure, the Kingdom I serve isn’t ready to learn that the Otherworld is real. That werewolves and fae live outside of legends and stories, we’re still here among them. That our magic drives the magic that they accept so easily as part of their daily lives. Ravaging an innocent woman would raise far too many questions. He’ll have to accept compromise. Neither of us want to endanger our people. I kiss her again, dominated by the sense of her. The gentle curves in my arms. I want to touch all of her at once and it takes the rest of my restraint to hold back. I’m rock hard with unspent passion and her body fits so well against my own. Caught between me and the door I can feel all the lusciousness of her curves against my frame. Her skirts are hitching, damp from the rain and making my trousers wet. I couldn’t care less. I lose myself in the kiss, in every honied moment. Her lips part and I sink harder against her. Probing gently with my tongue. I can taste her inexperience, feel the flutter of her racing heart as I run a hand across her shoulder and hold my palm against her chest. I want to pull down the top of the fabric and worship the exposed skin, but if I start getting her undressed, I’m not convinced I’ll be able to stop myself. Kilak’s demands are tempered and he’s growling within, protective. He knows that I’m right. That we both want her, but it’s not worth hurting her. If I scare her, she might run from me and I’m not sure I could face that. I absorb every movement of her mouth against mine as she leans into me. Melting perfectly against my form. On her toes, her chest is pressed to mine and I groan. I lift my hands, burying them in the thick curls at the back of her head. Holding her still as I probe again with my tongue, exploring her mouth as she presses back. When she lifts her own hands, I realise that I’m holding my breath again. Eager for her to touch me. Her small hands land on my shoulders for balance, fluttering nervously against my skin and I force myself to remain still. Even as every hair on my body lifts, standing to attention. Eager for her touch. It feels like magic, but not something I’ve ever experienced before. Like a pulse of warmth washing over us both as she relaxes. As each second passes I can feel her growing bolder. Her hands slip down, over my bare chest, through the tangle of hair that leads toward my abdomen and groin. Surely she can feel the press of my erection. I could burn through my trousers, I’m pressed against her middle and I need to be inside her. I’m panting, drawing back from the kiss. I have to put a stop to this, before the madness takes over. I draw back and she lets out a breathless moan and I’m lost. Leaning back in to kiss her again. It’s already too late. Whatever lies and promises I told myself about staying in control, I can’t keep them. Maybe I am a monster. I can’t fight Kilak and myself at the same time, not when she’s making soft little noises like that and looking at me from hooded eyes. Her lips swollen from my kisses, hair tangled in my hands. I drop my fingers, echoing the path she explored on me. I grip the shoulders of her dress before following the scoop over the tops of her breasts. Thumbs dipping beneath the fabric, her skin is burning and I grin, looking down to watch the swell of her bosom as she sucks in a breath. Hard nipples pointing through the fabric sticking to her skin. I grin and glance up at her face once more. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ it’s a harsh whisper and her cheeks flush. Her breath catches again and her breasts lift into my hands. I smirk, feeling far too smug and satisfied that this profound and reckless desire isn’t onesided. I lick my lips, studying the fastens of her dress. A single cord wound back and forth in the centre of her chest and tied in a neat little bow. I glance up at her again, then back at the cord. We both know what I’m about to do as I hold the tail of the bow between finger and thumb. I can’t help the wicked little grin that escapes me as I pull it taut. Slowly, slowly increasing the tension as the damp cord grips then starts to release and unravel.Lana’s POV The sun warmed the stone of the courtyard, a gentle, golden contrast to the cold, shifting shadows that still haunted the edges of my mind. It was a rare, quiet afternoon, the kind that felt fragile, like spun glass. My son, little more than a bundle of energy and curiosity, sat on the thick blanket I had spread out for him. He wobbled, his small, chubby hands splayed out to keep his balance as he successfully, and with great effort, propped himself upright.'There you go,' I whispered, my heart swelling with a fierce, protective ache that never quite faded.He didn’t answer, of course, too occupied with the treasures I’d given him. He grabbed a chunky model of a wolf, its carved wooden fur worn smooth by his persistent, gum-heavy gnawing. It was a strange toy for a babe, perhaps, but fitting given the blood that ran through his father’s veins. He brought it up to his mouth, then paused, his grey eyes, so like Thade’s, shifting toward a smaller, sturdier horse. With a grun
Thade’s PovI followed Cynan in her pursuit of Moira, warning my long time companion of the Elder Wolf's intention to play match-maker.Tell her I’m not interested, Moira replied, terse.I have, I reply and force a smile down at the wiry woman as she glares at me. Her disappointment in my not marking Lana, apparent whenever she looks in my direction.‘You can’t interfere with the plans of the Goddess,’ Cynan tells me, curling her frail hand over my arm, ‘you may as well stop trying and make your claim on your beautiful wife,’ she gives me a knowing look and I restrain myself with a slow breath.Moira, she’s trailing you. She is determined! I warn and relax as Moira steps out from a nearby room, crust of bread in her hand. Her expression blank as she looks at us both before shaking her head.‘Come on then,’ she sighs and gestures to Cynan, ‘you may as well tell me, Elder - whatever it is you want to tell me. I know I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.’Cynan detaches from my arm, m
Thade carried me back to the city walls, through the gate and to the Palace itself. The journey was blurry, my consciousness struggling to maintain control and stay awake as the sheer force of the Dragon within retreated once more. I dreamt on and off in the safety of his arms, surrounded by wolves, bears, cats and walking trees. A knight on horseback followed us, metal armour stained with blood and beaten through battle. In my dreams I was flying, not the handful of wing beats that had happened in my battle with Valerius, but drifting endlessly over mountains. The sky was a canvas of bruising purples and infinite gold, and beneath me, the world was a quilt of jagged peaks and deep, shadowed valleys. I could taste the wind, the scent of pine and ancient stone sharper than any breath I’d ever drawn in human form. My wings, vast and powerful, caught the updrafts with a familiarity that made my human bones ache with a phantom hunger.‘You are small, little one,’ a voice resonated, not
With the adrenaline from the battle fading, I felt uncertain in the body that had felt so familiar. The ground was still warm, a phantom heat rising from the stone where my scales had pressed only moments before. I moved with a gait that felt foreign, my limbs too heavy and cumbersome against the heavy air. My gaze was shaper, I could see the outline of magic everywhere I looked, spilling forth from the ground like glitter rising over the landscape. As though Valerius had been a sponge, pulling it into his form. His tendrils had extended through souls and into the depths of the ground itself. But he had failed in his coup to take Illure. I couldn’t stay here, in this form. Every twitch of my wings, every subtle movement of my tail saw the nearest soldiers scampering away. They were joined by Boren, working side by side without concern as they tended to the wounded, collected the dead and placed those who had fought against us, under arrest. Yet Boren and Illure alike looked askance a
The grit of the parapet stone was the first thing I felt, pressing into my cheek like a thousand tiny needles. My lungs burned, each breath tasting of the sulfurous ash and the biting chill that Valerius had unleashed upon Illure. For a heartbeat, the world was nothing but a chaotic vibration of stone beneath me and the distant, discordant screech of magic tearing at the city’s walls.I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt heavy, anchored by a lingering, ancient weight. My vision was a blurred tapestry of grey and obsidian, until a sudden, sharp pulse of light flared behind my eyelids.It wasn't the suffocating, parasitic dark of the Duke’s magic. This was something else.A wash of cooling emerald light began to ripple through my veins, chasing away the localized winter that had settled into my bones. It felt like the first breath of spring after a century of frost, a wave of relief that hummed with the frequency of the land itself. It was the magic of the runes, the ancient pro
The grey Alpha wolf that had dared invade my territory was defeated and his forces scattered through forests beyond the city. Another time we’d hunt them down and ensure they never returned, but with the roar of a dragon erupting behind us, there were more important things to attend to. My paws don’t feel my own for a moment, clumsy with the primal fear that rips through my body. A fear that I ignore, with Kilak growling his agreement within my thoughts we charge back towards the tournament fields, the city and the besieged wall that protects the people of Soln.The white light of the Dragon’s emergence had scorched the air, leaving behind the ozone-heavy scent of overtaxed spells and the sour, parasitic rot of Valerius’s true nature. I was a mountain of dark fur and unrestrained instinct once more, my paws digging into the grit of the earth as the magical integrity of the land pulsed, faint and dying, beneath my claws.Between the gathered wolves and the wall, stands the dragon, a hu
Two Years Ago - Thade’s POV Summer in the Year 514 It’s late at night, the hours starting to stretch towards the morning. I should be fast asleep, my body aches, muscles burning from exertion. But despite the storm that’s raging over the city, I can’t sleep. Thunder cracks and rolls, shaking th
Lana Air won't reach my lungs. My heart hammers an erratic rhythm against my ribs, aching. On the other side of the doors, the Nobility of Illure wait to watch me marry a monster. ‘You should be excited, Lana!’ My mother squeezes my fingers as I bend double, gasping. ‘I'm not going to do it.’
Coy? I don’t think I’ve ever played coy, I wouldn’t even know what it is. I feel all the air trapped in my lungs, like there isn’t enough space for it. They’re burning but I can’t think beyond the sense of his face so close to mine. The overwhelming awareness of the heat from his bare body and his c
Two Years Ago - Lana’s POV ‘You can just stay with us,’ Rune shouts over the loud crack of thunder as we race across the courtyard. The water that splashes up from the puddles is warm against my ankles but the heavy rain hurts. Pinging against my face as we run. I look across at her, her short b







