by Candy Nicks
"Wolf's a greedy bastard. Takes all my energy at the best of times...” Finn's voice slurred and slowed. “Was nice seeing you. My beautiful saviour."
The words overawed her, even as part of her glowed at the unqualified trust he placed in her. Would she have the strength to weather the storms ahead? “I'll come back later with some food.” She placed a light kiss on each of his eyelids. “I need to go help...” She stopped short, cocking her head at the sound of rapid footsteps on the gravel path. Placing a warning hand on Finn's arm, she said, “Keep your eyes closed. Someone's coming."
The handle rocked up and down twice. Kandar's voice boomed through the wood. “Naima, open the door. Something's happened."
"What is it?” The urgency in his voice made her fly to the door and unlock it. He almost knocked her over in his haste to get inside.
"Carine's been hurt. Stabbed, we think. She's calling for you. You need to come now."
For once, she didn't question him, nor push him away when he lent her a steadying arm. She sagged against him, unable to move until the words had sunk in.
"How? What happened?"
"Brynn and Doctor Pietr are with her. Ancel's out of his mind, the children are asking where their mother is.” Kandar let his gaze linger pointedly on Finn and the exposed shackle on his wrist. Naima saw his eyes narrow briefly. “Come,” he said shepherding her firmly to the door. “Your family needs you."
* * * *
"I'm all right. It's nothing more than a scratch. Doctor Pietr says it missed all of my vital organs."
"For the Gods, will you stop moving? You'll re-open the wound. Naima, thank goodness.” Ancel lifted his head at the sound of the door opening, his face a mixture of fear and frustration. “She needs to lie still or the sutures won't hold. Tell her. I can't get her to see sense."
"I will, father.” Naima took in the scene. Her father, white-faced with concern, anger at this outrage simmering under the surface. Brynn, arms folded, his eyes never leaving Carine. He looked furious enough to down a Krillian dragon single-handed. The fate of the attacker, when caught, wouldn't be pretty.
Carine turned to her as she entered. “It's a small flesh wound and a few scratches. One of the traveller's dogs attacked me, nothing more. Dr Pietr said as much. Please stop fussing.” Falling back onto the pillows, she reached for Ancel's hand and smiled weakly. “You look worse than I feel, sweetheart. Why don't you step out for some air?"
"I'm not leaving you with a potential murderer on the loose. We're closing the gates and doubling the guard until this we find out who did this."
"It will affect the trading fair and everyone's hard work. We can't live our lives locked behind doors, Ancel. Don't stop the fair."
Kandar stepped forward, bowing respectfully to Carine. “Who's to say it wasn't someone inside the Settlement? I say let the fair continue and double-arm everyone to give the message that we won't be easy targets. Hiding behind walls will only mark us as cowards."
Ancel's fist tightened at the mere mention of the word coward. “I challenge anyone to call me coward and live to relate the tale."
"No offence intended.” Kandar bowed and stepped back to show that he hadn't issued a challenge. “Your bravery is without question, Ancel of Faylar. It's our greatest strength, and we should flaunt it."
"He's right.” For the first time, Brynn took his eyes from Carine. “The trading fair is important to the Settlement. So is the safety of our traders. We can protect our perimeter and still trade in relative safety. It's all relative, anyway. If someone wanted to get in, they would."
Naima sat with Carine, who she suspected was bravely playing down her pain. No one appeared to have asked the most obvious question. Why? Carine hadn't been robbed or sexually assaulted. No one they knew of held her in grudge. What motive would anyone have for attempting to kill her?
"Take your war council outside and let Carine rest,” Naima ordered. “I'll sit with her. Father, have Tragiria bring in the children. They need to be reassured their mother is all right."
Ancel left with a great show of reluctance followed by Brynn and Kandar, who had thrown her several puzzled glances during their walk from the isolation hut to the house. Naima turned to Carine, feeling his stare on her back as he turned to leave. She bristled at his blatant disapproval.
"Oh my,” she said when they'd finally moved out of earshot. “How are you feeling?"
Carine screwed up her face. “As if I've been skewered by a devil's three-pronged fork. The scratches sting, but really, it looks worse than it is."
"How can you be so calm?” Naima placed a hand on Carine's brow, relieved to feel the life force throbbing strong against her palm. “Why would someone want to do this to you? Who would benefit?"
The empty space between the question and Carine's assertion that she knew of no one who would benefit from her demise, brought Naima up with a jolt as she remembered Finn's earlier disappearance. “You can't think...” She stopped and gentled her tone. “Finn's been in chains since he arrived,” she said quietly. “And even if he'd been free, he wouldn't do this."
"I know. Naima, calm yourself. It's a small puncture wound that could easily be from a dog's large canine. I went gathering silvergolds without protection. Stupid of me. How could I blame Finn for it?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to agitate you. Look, the children. Happy face for them?"
"Mother?” Sol moved uncertainly towards the bed. “Are you going to die?"
"Of course not.” Carine held out her arms and embraced her eldest child.
"Truly?” His muffled voice held tears. He sniffed and wiped them away with his sleeve.
"Of course she's not going to die.” Tallin pushed past him, Larissa in tow, and stood smiling widely at his mother. “I found a blue frog. Would you like to see it?"
Naima envied him his innocence while her heart ached for Sol. Old enough to realise bad things happened. Too young to make a difference. She stroked her brother's yellow hair. So like her own.
"She'll be fine,” she reassured him. “One of the traveller's dogs bit her and it gave her a shock. Tallin, perhaps mother will see the frog tomorrow?"
"Okay.” Tallin shrugged and hopped from foot to foot. “Can we go now?"
"Of course, darling,” Carine extended her hand in blessing. “Change your shoes if you're going puddle-jumping."
Tallin placed a quick kiss on his mother's cheek and, grabbing Larissa's hand, raced from the room. Carine gazed fondly at her youngest son's unstoppable optimism and with concern at her eldest, standing so seriously by the bedside.
"I feel better knowing I have such fine warriors to keep me safe,” she told him. “Sol, you have the makings of the finest of them all."
Sol beamed at his mother. Shoulders squared, head held a little higher, he grasped the hilt of his wooden sword.
"I'll stand guard outside your door. Nothing will get past me."
Carine nodded her thanks. “Put on a brave face. We don't want to scare the young ones, do we?"
Sol shook his head. “You can count on me,” he said and moved to take up sentinel on the landing.
Tragiria appeared carrying a sleepy-looking Ayla, who, at two summers old, accepted life as it happened. After a brief cuddle, she stuck a thumb back into her mouth and burrowed under the quilt covering the large bed.
"Leave her, please,” Carine said when Tragiria moved to extract the child. “Tell people I was bitten by a dog. Nothing more serious. We don't want to start a panic or unfounded rumours."
The old nurse cast a sceptical eye and nodded assent. When she left the room, Naima busied herself fussing with the bedclothes, her own mind divided and in turmoil. How easily and quickly the wheel of life turned. A whole future might appear in the blink of an eye and then, just as quickly, crumble to dust.
"I saw the Pit, Naima. A flash of what might be. The Companion held me fast and brought me back. It was the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced.” Carine's voice died to a tremor
. She swallowed and sighed deeply. “I thought I'd accepted all this. Thought I was stronger, but I'm just a coward. Now it's too real..."
"It's a scratch, you said so yourself.” Naima took Carine's hand and held it firmly. “You have many, many happy years ahead of you."
"I can't avoid it forever. One day it will come."
"How can you pray to her?” Anger welled up inside of Naima, threatening to spill in a tirade she knew she'd regret. “You give that Goddess of yours undying devotion. You make a sacrifice of monumental proportions, and She repays you with this? She's abandoned Finn, and she's abandoned you. It's all a game to her."
"Don't say that, Naima.” Carine mouthed a short prayer asking forgiveness for the outburst and regarded Naima patiently. “To all things there is a pattern. A bigger picture we cannot see and, like it or not, we will all have to play our parts."
"Finn included?"
Carine nodded. “I'm sorry. If the Goddess calls her own, he'll have no choice but to obey. I believe She set him free and She brought him here."
Naima backed away, denial on the tip of her tongue. What could she say? Her heart ached for both of them.
Carine's eyes closed, although she failed in her effort to appear relaxed. Naima guessed it was her way of ending this difficult conversation.
Outside the room, the men continued to debate security issues. High over the mountains the sky was darkening, another storm rolling in.
"I'll call by later, when you've rested,” Naima whispered. She tip-toed from the room, past Sol who sat with his back to the wall, wooden sword laid across his bent knees. He raised anxious eyes to hers.
Yes, she thought. I feel it too. Things were changing never to be the same. The threads of individual stories were somehow clashing and meshing to become one new drama. The ancients called it the Vortex. A time when the Gods themselves intervened to shape the destiny of mankind.
Or the Goddess? Naima had learned much about the unpredictable deity from Carine. How she toyed with her followers, demanding undying devotion in return for her fickle and somewhat sporadic attention. Few had prayed harder than Carine for divine intervention. How could Naima tell her that Finn was the slenderest of straws? If she clutched too hard, he'd snap and they'd all lose.
They said the Vortex brought things to a head. Imbued those astute enough to recognise it with the energy to move mountains. Naima broke into a run, past the surprised men and down the stairs, two at a time. Searching in a drawer, she pulled out a pair of eyeshades and stuffed them into her pocket. The storm broke overhead in a bone-jarring crash of thunder, a jagged flash of blue light and she became one with it.
However this drama played out, Finn would not be a helpless puppet. The wolf would decide its own destiny and to do that it needed to be free.
Stopping only to grab pants, shirt and something far more important from the infirmary stores, she entered the hut to find Finn waiting, his head turned in question towards the door. A zing of electric fire passed between them. His amber eyes glowed with intent as if absorbing the storm's energy and radiating it back to her. Naima dropped the clothes onto the chest.
"You're free,” she said and fumbled the key into the metal band securing his wrist to the bed. “No one will ever again hold you in chains.” She heard laughter, loose and hysterical, and realised it was her own. Rebellion was a heady, potent drug, making her feel as if she were flying high above the Settlement and as drunk as someone who'd sunk a whole bottle of apple brandy.
"I got what you asked for.” She pulled out the protective sheath taken from the infirmary's limited supply. “Finn, make love to me right now. Whatever happens, I want you to know I'm yours."
Without waiting for a reply, she ripped away the bed-clothes, exposing his already-aroused body. “What do I do?” she said, running her palm over his flat abdomen, her blood boiling at the way his breath hissed through his teeth. “Show me what to do."
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Chapter 9
They didn't have the luxury of time. No leisurely fore-play or words of endearment to ease her passage into womanhood. Consummation was all that mattered. From deep within himself, Finn dredged up his last reserves, spurred on by her contagious urgency and used them to bind them together forever. The lowered window-blinds threw the room into shade allowing him to make out her blurred features, her pale curves flashing into sight as she threw off her clothes. Shuddering with both pain and pleasure, he arched into her groping hand, feeling the tight pressure of the sheath encasing his cock. The moist softness of her body rubbing over the length of him.
He steadied her, hands cupping her breasts while she set the pace and lowered herself carefully onto him. Her knees and thighs gripped his sides and he felt the tightening of muscles resisting his invasion of her body. The muffled whimpers as she discovered the pain of first-joining. He found enough strength to slow her down, holding her on rigid arms, letting her become accustomed to him bit by bit.
The storm breaking so violently inside of her surprised and delighted him. Each time she rocked forward her plaited hair brushed his face, his chest and arms. The scent of her building arousal engulfed him, making him dizzy with desire. The words pouring from her mouth mesmerised him. To be so wanted and so loved—the most precious of gifts. One he knew to grab hold of and never let go.
Questions flooded his mind. He pushed them aside and concentrated on blissful release. The catch in Naima's breathing, her erratic movements, told him she was near, searching for something she would only understand once she'd experienced it. Try as he might, waiting for her was beyond his control. Sex had rarely involved finesse, and old habits died hard even with someone you loved.
He desperately wanted to see her expression, but nothing remained for his wolf. “Naima,” he said raising a weary hand to her cheek. He stopped for breath, filling his lungs with much-needed air. “That was wonderful. I have to ask, though—why so urgent?"
A feeling of dread stole over him, replacing the elation of finally making her his. A lead weight settled low in his stomach. He grabbed at her arms to steady himself overcome by a wave of nausea. “Talk to me,” he said terrified by her silence.
Her voice cut through the tension, unfocused and confused. Laced with a hint of frustration and desperation.
"Seeing Carine hurt. Realising how fragile our lives are. I wanted us to have this, now."
She wasn't making any sense. He felt himself softening, her body moving to lie beside him on the narrow bed, one leg thrown over his thigh, a hand convulsively clutching at his upper arm. Her braid rubbed his cheek.
"How bad is it?” he asked.
"She'll be fine, but it gave her a fright.” Naima paused. “She said she saw the Pit."
"I can't help her. Why can't they just leave me alone?” He ground out the words, unable to moderate his anger. “I'm not her lap-dog, and I won't be backed into a corner, do you hear?” He held on to Naima when she pulled away from him. “Can't you see what she's doing? How she's manipulating us all?"
"Carine wouldn't do that."
"Not Carine. Her. Our wonderful Goddess.” He loosened his hold—the only way to find out where Naima's loyalties really lay. To his relief, her lips sought his. Her tense muscles relaxed. The kiss calmed him, and he berated himself for his misplaced wrath.
"I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't need to scare you. I'm frightened enough for both of us."
Naima laid a gentle palm on his chest. “Your heart is pumping fit to burst."
Raising his wrist, he tested his new freedom, wondering what her actions really meant. Was this a silent plea for him to run?
"Did Carine say anything else?"
"Only that you belong to the Goddess, and whatever we do makes no difference to the grand plan."
"Hush now.” He sought the comfort of her mouth before the storm that had brought her here just as quickly carried her away. Better to enjoy these few moments of intimacy than spend precious time railing against fat
e. The scent of their arousal filled the room along with the faint tang of her blood from the first-joining.
"I can't help Carine. She shouldn't pin her hopes on me. Naima, how are you feeling? Do you have any more protection?"
"No. But don't stop."
He touched her, reining back his own desires and the feeling that he was skidding down a slope so steep, he wouldn't stop until he hit bottom. Burying his face into the curve of her neck, he inhaled her scent and listened to the whimpers turning into gasps of disbelief.
"Taste how you feel when you let go,” he said pressing his wet fingers to her lips.
"I have to go. They'll be wondering where I am."
The apology in her voice did nothing to lessen his frustration. As if sensing his change of mood, she remained close until he gave her a push with the flat of his hand, his blessing on her leaving. Understanding why she couldn't stay made it worse, not easier to bear.
Fuck and run—the same old story. Trying to hold on to something lasting was like grasping a handful of water, each time watching it pour through his fingers. “I want more than this,” he said, listening to every rustle of clothing, every breath and sigh. “Tell me I haven't just swapped one cage for another."
"I shouldn't be here at all. Everyone is rallying around Carine, and I'm here with you."
"If you took a husband, wouldn't your first loyalty be to him?"
"This is different."
"How?” His groping hand found only thin air. Naima hovered out of reach, doubts and insecurities shoving aside the confidence with which she'd given herself to him.
"I'm not sure it's possible to have it all,” he said. “Not for us. I understand your conflict. It's filling this room. Somewhere along the way, you will have to make a choice. Take my hand and tell me you choose me.” He flexed his fingers and strained his shoulder towards her. “Otherwise this room is just another cage and I'll never be truly free. Life's about choices, Naima, not all of them easy and straightforward. You ran to me and now you doubt? Well, I'm not prepared to live life on those terms. If you can't walk through fire and blood for me, you're right. You shouldn't be here. I'm offering you my hand and my life. These are the only words I have for you. Tell me they're enough. Please tell me they're enough."