The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

LUST

A loud argument outside causes her to jerk awake. For a moment she believes she is back in her carriage, in the forest all alone, her happiness just a distant dream until she feels Rick’s hand wrapped around hers, their fingers entwined. He still holds her tight but loosens his grip when the front door bursts open. Though she doesn’t want to, Mora forces herself to stand up and lean against the table; she is slightly embarrassed at being seen in such a private moment. Several people burst into the bar, none seeing the two lovers’ embrace.

“Unhand me you sorry excuse for a woman! I tell you what, it is no wonder the sun avoids shining on this awful country-everyone would be forced to see exactly what Sceduian women have to offer!” A familiar, rough voice calls out.

“Oh shut it, don’t be sore about being beaten by a lady,” James taunts the man.

Sari, clearly irritated, shoves the bound man to the ground, “This coward says he knows Mora.”

His hands tied behind his back, he rolls to his side so he can shout at Sari, “I am not a coward! That horse would not stop, I tell you… and even if it did, it isn’t like I wanted to recall my last encounter with your kind!” The familiar voice comes from Franklin.

Mora walks swiftly over to him, determined despite her dizziness. She is forced to brace herself on passing chairs for support. She kneels down to the man, quickly untying his ropes despite Sari’s objections. When Franklin sees Mora he sits up enough to raise his left knee where he rests his forehead, right hand on his heart, left hand in a fist on the ground, “I’m sorry, Princess Namora, I didn’t think these heathens would actually take me to you. Please excuse my outburst.”

She laughs, glad to see her old friend. She holds his shoulders, taking a look at his healing eye, “You should be kinder to Sari, she isn’t as nice as I am.”

Franklin sits up, mumbling, “If that is what the Sceaduians call a woman it is no wonder the Queen wanted you to stay here for a while. Perhaps she wanted someone civilized to talk to,” he directs his statement to Sari.

Mora smiles, touching his cheek to draw his attention back to her, “Why are you here, Captain? Surely by now, you must realize that crossing the Sceaduian border isn’t without risk…” She is glad to see a familiar face.

“I came to give you this,” he pulls a letter from his pocket, “I meant only to stop at the border and wait to pass it off to a Warden but that damned beast of yours refused to stop!” He folds his legs in front of him, sitting before Mora as he waves his arms to emphasize his story, “Every day he has been waiting at the western most part of the royal pasture because he knows that you’re out there somewhere. Advisor Laren told me I must get this to you quickly and as soon I as mounted that thing you call a horse he took off and wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. He blew past the border, past those three and kept running. It was like he smelled you out, damned dog.”

Mora takes the letter from Franklin. She opens it, immediately recognizing Laren’s handwriting. As she reads, the smile begins to fade from her face. The sun rises high in the sky, looking for the brush tiger nearby. Not knowing the tiger has been slain, it grows restless with disdain. In distant land beyond yonder hill, upon the morrow the sun will rise feigning sorrow. Shall time pass it by, where they meet, eye to eye?

She sits back on her heels, clearly shocked. Franklin gently touches her arm to get her attention, “Princess, is everything alright? What did it say?”

“Nothing good. I need a piece of paper, something to write with…” Franklin pulls both out of his pocket and hands it to Mora. She stands, taking them to the nearest table where she places both in front of her. Sitting with her hands resting in her lap, she inhales and exhales slowly, her mind now wide awake with the news. It takes her a few minutes to come up with a response. Rick picks up Laren’s letter from the table next to her; he reads it. As the worry begins to cross his face, he reads her composition over her shoulder as she writes.

Time waits for none, but the tiger and so it shall, nowhere near the fire. Hunter with tiger pelt will greet, beyond yonder hill the sun they meet. Together no stone will be left unturned, the sun will set, never to return.

Mora folds the note. Rising, she walks back to her friend and hands it to him. As Rick comes over to join her, she reaches over and takes his hand. She quickly kneels down before him. She closes her eyes and presses the back of his hand to her lips. Everyone looks at her with surprise, though none more than Rick. Taking a deep breath, she looks up at him, still holding him tight.

“Prince Varickan,” she starts, unsure of how to continue, “I understand the customs of your country but I am asking that you pardon Captain Franklin and set him free as I need him to deliver my message. In return, I offer you the remaining years of my life, should you desire them.”

“Prince!” Franklin exclaims under his breath, “This place only gets odder.”

Rick’s brow crinkles together. He cups Mora’s face in his hands, smiling sadly at her. He pulls her up and into a standing position. Letting her face go, he wraps his arms around her waist so that he can draw her close. His forehead rests against hers, speaking in that tender, private tone, “I desperately desire all of the years of your life but it is worth more than you ask. I wish only to honestly earn your affections. Captain Franklin is pardoned; he is allowed to move freely between our borders as necessary.”

She closes her eyes; wishing to lean in, to melt into Rick yet she restrains herself. She smiles at him, “Thank you.”

Turning back to everyone, she fidgets with her vest awkwardly; she can feel herself blush, “Captain Franklin, if you would be so kind as to take that message to Advisor Laren…”

He bows, chuckling, “Amyee will be pleased by this.” When he rises, he gets an over exaggerated look of aggravation on his face, “You must come and assure that monster that you are fine or he will never leave.”

Outside, Jacob hesitantly holds on to the very end of Graystar’s reins, obviously terrified of the animal. The horse paws the ground angrily, huffing with impatience. As soon as he sees Mora he lets out a loud whinny and jumps up onto the boardwalk in front of the tavern. She rests her cheek against his forehead, rubbing his chin and whispering to him softly. Standing next to him, his size makes her seem like a child. She tugs playfully on one of his ears before standing back; the demeanor of the animal has completely calmed and he waits patiently like an old mule for Franklin to mount.

As Franklin climbs upon the beast, he offers Mora a small smile, clearly pleased that she has finally found a match. His smile fades when he looks to Rick; straightening up in the saddle, he attempts to threaten the man, “I hope that you realize how much Derven loves its Princess. Should you hurt her, in any way…” he shakes his head at the idea, “hundreds of men will be after you, but they will arrive only to find your body torn to shreds by a herd of frightening women, led by my Amyee. Tread carefully, Prince Varickan, we are not a people to be messed with.”

Greystar turns and begins to trot back to the woods; Daniel and James escort him, leaving Sari behind. Rick looks at Mora, unnerved by his threat but managing a grin, “Are all women of Derven as angry as you?”

She smiles, appreciative of the brotherly love that Franklin has developed for her, “Oh yes. And all of them fight almost as well as I do.”

His smile fades, “You aren’t going to tell them I broke your shoulder, are you?”

She laughs, “If I do, I’ll make it clear that I almost killed you after that.”

Once the horses turn off the main thoroughfare and to the road that leaves to the border, Sari begins to bicker, “I can’t imagine that any woman would subject themselves to his company-this Amyee, is she his wife?”

“No, Amyee is his sister,” she turns from the road to her friend.

“Poor girl,” Sari says.

Winking at her, Mora smiles, “I think he likes you, Sari.”This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“What! Did you see how he talked to me? I can’t imagine a dog would ever like that man…”

Rick tucks Mora’s arm under his and leads her back into the tavern. The three sit around a table, joined by Todd and a bottle of wine. Mora drinks from her glass slowly. She finds that she likes the taste, even if it comes from a sacrifice-nourished tree hidden in a cave. Rick remains seated next to her, his chair pulled up close so that he can lean his arm over her arm rest to hold her hand; he rubs the back of it idly with his thumb. Unable to stop herself, Mora leans towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. She no longer feels ashamed at their display of affection; their companions seem just as happy for them as they are.

Sari reads Laren’s letter. Her eyes narrow, mouth forming the words but not speaking them. Frustration grows on her face and after trying to figure it out for a while, she gives up, “Out with it then, what does it mean?”

Using his free hand, Rick plays with the bottom of his wine glass, “I think it means that King Irron plans on meeting Mora tomorrow. Doesn’t sound like he’s too happy, either-am I right?”

She nods her head against him, not to thrilled about seeing Irron again, “It sounds like Laren caught wind of it. I’m guessing that King Irron thinks my father was forced into it by Queen Sheynne and that it was against my will, so he wants to meet with me. Probably to assure me of his undying love or to declare war in my name. Laren wanted to know if he should tell my father.”

Todd fills her glass again, “And what did you say back?”

Rick looks down at Mora, trying to see her face but he can’t because she’s so close, “You told him not to tell your father until it was too late, right? I don’t think I quite understood the rest of it, though…”

She knows he’s lying but she affirms his suspicions, “I told Laren that you would take me to meet King Irron and that I would tell him where my heart has led me. However I don’t think that it will end peacefully and no matter what happens it will most likely start a war.”