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Thaelen Teaches Harithen
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The Pack's Rebels Big Trouble
Concordia, Seven Hundred Years BeforeHarithen lay between Thaelen’s thighs, his cheek on his chest, their wet c-cks trapped between them. They had f-ked themselves empty, f-ked themselves to the point of contented somnolence, and they lay listening to the rain striking the canvas in the peaceful lull left behind the satiated lust.“I should go,” Harithen sighed eventually. “But it’s miserable out there.”“Stay,” Thaelen invited immediately. “I would like for you to stay.”“Hmm, and risk me being seen leaving your tent in the morning? My sisters would love that,” Harithen laughed into Thaelen’s chest.“I will ensure you return to your tent unseen,” Thaelen told him. It was nice to lie skin to skin, warmed by another body, with the damp cold seeping in through the canvas, and he was still fascinated by the man, not yet prepared to let him slip from his bed potentially forever.“How will you do that?” Harithen wondered, amused.“I will wake you before dawn. No one will be around in this
The Pack's Rebels The Chest
Concordia, Seven Hundred Years Before“This was your doing,” Thaelen said under his breath to Sigrid as they waited for the horses to be brought by the squires. Quite a crowd had gathered, and what Thaelen had originally intended to be a private horse-ride had become a spectacle, with many nobles and guards preparing to ride with the royals of both Concordia and Greibron.“Of course,” Sigrid replied complacently without looking at him, smiling politely and inclining her head to those who entered her field of vision. “Nothing happens in your life, Thaelen, without my hand in it somewhere, surely you know this.”“Believe me, I do,” he replied resentfully. “I will remind you, however, that I am a man grown, and capable of making my own decisions on occasion.”“And what decisions would you have made today, precisely, Thaelen?” She arched a brow at him. “You made a decision many weeks ago and charged me to ensure the success of your endeavour. Everything you see before you, every event tha
The Pack's Rebels Thaelen Chooses a Bride
Concordia, Seven Hundred Years BeforeAs if in recognition of the events of the day, the rain resumed, the heavy drops seeking to penetrate the canvas of the tents, and setting a chill into the air.Alandra’s body lay on the bed where Thaelen had f-ked her brother only the night before. Her brother sat on the arm of a chair, Freanya pressed against his side. She wept brokenly into the fine fabric of Harithen’s coat. Her priest hovered behind them, having been brutally rebuffed by Harithen when he had offered “It was the One God’s will,” as comfort to Freanya.“The One God wanted his faithful followers torn to pieces by flying fragments of metal in an explosion?” Harithen had demanded. “How blood thirsty of him.”“We should not be here,” Father Gedina complained, wrapping his fingers around Freanya’s upper arm. Harithen tugged her back against him, hissing at the priest. Their eyes met and there was a battle of wills between them. “They were to blame for this,” Gedina accused spitting
The Pack's Rebels The Vigil
Concordia, Seven Hundred Years BeforeThere was a shocked silence in the tent as both royals and their priest stared at him gape mouthed.“Thaelen,” Sigrid said darkly, her tone promising a thorough tongue-lashing when they were alone. “You have had too much to drink and are in shock. Excuse him, please,” she said taking the glass from Thaelen’s hand as she stepped passed him, and set it down crisply on the tray. “He thinks that he is being clever, thinking outside of the problem before us, but does not realize that what he has suggested is in bad-taste and…”“Flattering,” Harithen’s smile was stiff but warm, his pleasure tinged by his grief for his sister. “It is flattering, my king, your offer, but…” He shook his head. “Not a solution for any of us, and considerable trouble for you. I thank you,” he inclined his head as he lifted Freanya to her feet, and began to guide her towards the tent entrance. “But this is Greibron problem, and not a Concordian one. We will call upon loyal Gre
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Concordia, Seven Hundred Years BeforeThe rain had driven everyone into the tents and, due to the lack of space within them, early to bed – other than those which had injured from the explosion within them. Light spilled from those tents, and door flaps opened to the night revealing the activity within, servants carrying out bloody water to cast out onto the sodden earth, and others leaving bowls out to collect the falling rain.Thaelen and Meguitte paused in their path. Their own injured had already been tended and were on the mend, however, miracle recoveries amongst the humans would only risk exposing the Concordians for that they were, and helping the humans would bring danger to his own people so they had left the humans to their own devices.“How are your injured?” Thaelen enquired pausing in the awning of one such tent. The broken wails from inside chilled his bones. The roaring percussion of rain against the canvas and ground had stolen the sound from the tents until they drew
The Pack's Rebels Betrayal and Births
Concordia, Seven Hundred Years Before“We are trying to save Harithen,” Thaelen knew that it would look bad despite his words, for he had Harithen’s blood on his face and in his beard and he had just been licking his wounds. He and Meguitte were in a tent of Greibron bodies, without witnesses other than Harithen, and with Harithen slipping into and out of consciousness, the human could hardly speak in their defense.Behind the priest were a half dozen noble men and soldiers, and already they had drawn their weapons. Very clearly, Thaelen realized the danger that they were in, and that those people responsible for the slaughter of everyone in the tent probably stood before him. They had every reason to want to blame him and Meguitte, and to silence them and Harithen.Meguitte realised it as well and he saw her reach into a pouch at her waist as she rose to her feet. “Pick Harithen up Thaelen,” she said darkly, the red glowing in her eyes and he felt the change in the air raising the ha
The Pack's Rebels Hang Man
Havermouth, Present Time“Do we cut him down?” Dan wondered looking up at the man who was slowly treading air above their heads.“I do not think that wise,” Sigrid shook her head. She had gotten a good look at the man’s face, and he was definitely dead, his neck twisted and his eyes vacant. The rope biting deeply into the skin under his jaw had broken the bone so that it pierced the flesh. That he was still moving told her everything that she needed to know. “He is a zombie, but not like the ones that Leighton has been helping. He is dead. Hanging is probably the safest spot for him to be or he will be attacking people.”“Is that why they hung him?” Dan’s hand encouraged her to stand back. There was a steady leak of urine dripping from the toe of one of the man’s boots. “To keep him out of the way?”“I don’t know,” she replied. The man was a Van Helsing from his clothing. Why had they hung one of their own? Because he’d become infected? As an example? Or as bait? She looked around the
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Havermouth, Present TimeThe high bank on the Havermouth township side of the river had held back much of the flooding, however on the other side it swelled out into the fields and over the roads. The bottom of the boat scraped over submerged branches, and the current made it almost impossible to steer, until the water settled over what had once been farmland.At one home, an island within a flow of water, a woman watched Leighton’s boat pass from an upstairs window. The first story of her house was entirely submerged. She pressed her palm to the glass in a silent plea for help, but there was none that he could offer her. She would be alright, Leighton told himself, the water would begin to recede now that the peak of the storm and the flood from the dam bursting was over. And she was safer where she was than in Havermouth.His ride was far from peaceful even where the water had stilled, as the debris hidden beneath the surface caught and tore at his boat frequently requiring him to m
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