He seemed regretful and there was a long pause. When he realized that there was no reason to stay, the boy reluctantly left us in front of the tent, taking one last look over his shoulder.
“Why did you say maybe?” Larna said flatly, still looking straight ahead at Elaran’s form as he retreated into the darkness.
“I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I thought he could show us around so we don’t get lost,” I cooed, stroking Larna’s cheek with a pale hand, “I know who I belong to. If you want me to tell him no tomorrow, I will.”
For a moment, something dangerous rose in Larna’s eyes, but it faded under my touch. “It is all right. Just make sure I come with you.”
“Do you not trust me?” I asked, not insulted or hurt, only curious about her answer. I already knew that Larna trusted me.
“I do trust you. I am not trusting him. Now, come inside,” she said, kissing my hair. Together, we took our traveling packs into the tent and got ready to sleep.
…
The next morning at breakfast, my new admirer found us again. When she saw Elaran sit down beside me, Larna shoved a chunk of raw meat in her mouth and chewed loudly. Either she was trying to make Elaran uncomfortable or she was eating to keep from saying something rude.
“Good morning,” I said, since I had to be the polite one.
“Good morning,” said Elaran. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mostly.” I gave Larna a sidelong glance that could have been interpreted several ways. “Larna was wondering if her family might be here.”
My mate almost choked on her breakfast and Elaran reached over to start pounding on her back. She had not been expecting me to ask that question. “No, no! I’m fine!” she sputtered, still coughing as a piece of meat flew out of her mouth. “You shouldna be pounding on someone’s back if they are choking,” she explained, trying not to sound condescending. I appreciated it. “It can lodge the food deeper.”
Elaran blushed, embarrassed at being corrected, but I knew that he would remember the advice. “Anyway,” I continued, trying to gloss over the awkward moment, “about Larna’s family…?” I purposely ignored the dirty look that Larna shot me. I knew that she wanted to know if her mother and brother had made it out of Katar before it burned, but she was too proud and stubborn to ask.
“I might be able to help,” Elaran offered, eager to do anything for me. “Lots of people come here looking to meet their families.”
Larna relaxed and let me slip out of her embrace, but kept a protective arm around my waist. She gave Elaran a suspicious look. “Really?” she asked. “I am missing a mother and a brother.” She left out the part where she had not spoken to them in years.
“Where do you come from?”
“Katar,” Larna said. A shadow came over Elaran’s face and Larna winced. “Yes, I know it has been burned. I was just wondering if they were alive. If they survived, they would have been trying to make their way here.”
“Everyone that joins the rebellion has to register with Jett Bahari,” Elaran told us. “If they came to camp, then we should be able to find their names in the records. Besides, you two need to register yourselves.”
“It seems dangerous to register all the new arrivals. If the Queen got that list, she would know exactly who to execute for treason.”
“If she snuck in to camp, we would all be dead anyway. There would be no reason to worry about treason.” Elaran gave us a cheeky grin and started off through the camp, looking over his shoulder to make sure that we were following him. “Come on, we have to go to Jett Markku’s tent and ask him to check the registry.”
“Jett Markku?” I asked, not recognizing the name.
Larna explained. “Jett Bahari’s son.”
We hurried after Elaran, trying not to lose him in the busy, bustling center of the camp. Men and women were clustered around fires, eating, talking, and laughing together. There were one or two small children, but not many. I stared at a tiny, smudge-faced boy with scruffy hair and Larna caught me looking.
“Sometimes, the children are having nowhere else to go,” she said in answer to my silent question. “I suppose the healers would watch over them during the battles.”
“And where will you be?” I asked, giving Larna a worried look. I already knew what she would say.
Larna gave me a half smile and patted the knife at her hip, even though she did not need it. “Where do you think? I am a fighter. I can also hunt, cook, build a fire, mend clothes, find water underground, stitch and clean a wound, and sing.
I gave her a curious look. “Sing?” Another new fact that about my lover.
Larna shrugged her shoulders, a little embarrassed. “Yes, sing. Any Amendyri worth their meat can sing. Hurry, we are losing Elaran.”
We finally caught up with him as he entered a large brown tent. There were voices inside, but even my keen ears could not make out what they were saying.
“I thought the records would be in a building,” I said, glancing nervously at the tent. I hoped that Elaran was not up to anything. He seemed honest and trustworthy, but I could not be sure.
“No, Jett Markku is the keeper of the records. It is a very important job, and he is proud of it,” Elaran explained, sticking his head out of the tent flaps just in time to hear my question. “Markku is eating his supper.”
“Well, are we going to go in?” Larna asked impatiently. I grabbed her hand and she squeezed it lightly.
“Oh, of course,” Elaran said, turning around and holding the tent flap aside for them.
The inside of the tent was larger than I expected it to be, with a high, tapered ceiling, some basic furniture, two sleeping cots, and a small square table in the middle of it all. Sitting at the table was a young man with dark skin and even darker eyes. He smiled at them and stood up, holding out his hand. Larna took it first, and shook. I followed her example.
“Arim Dei. My name is Jett Markku, just in case this buffoon forgot to tell you,” the man said, giving Elaran a friendly nudge. Elaran grinned and nudged him back. “Stop,” he laughed, “I’m supposed to be in charge here!”
“Which is good for me,” Elaran said in a loud whisper, giving me a wink. “Markku and I grew up together and when his father is busy, I get to do whatever I want.”
“Not true,” Jett Markku objected, poking Elaran playfully in the chest. I smiled. Both of them were still young boys. I wondered if they had ever seen someone die. “Right now, you are going to follow orders and get the registry.”
“And not even a please for my trouble,” Elaran muttered, wandering over to one side of the tent and digging through a pile of papers. Finally, he came up with a blank sheet and handed it to Jett Markku, who smoothed it out on his thigh and set it on the table. He reached into his tunic and fumbled about for a moment, finally producing a pen. “Now, if you two ladies would please give me your full names.”
“Cathelin Raybrook,” I said, saying it slowly and clearly so that he could copy it down.
“Larna.”
Jett Markku looked up at her for a moment, but wrote it down. “No last name?”
“I am not using my last name,” Larna said stubbornly.
Jett Markku continued to stare at her for a moment, but quickly dismissed his thoughts and asked, “and where are you from?”
“I was born in the Forest, but lived in Seria for several years.”
“Katar,”
Jett Markku dutifully wrote it down. “Any particular skills or specialties?” Then, he remembered what we were and blushed. “Oh, sorry.” Everyone in the camp probably knew that Larna and I were Wyr by now. In a group like this, nothing stayed a secret for long. News spread fast.
Jett Markku wrote everything on the piece of paper and stuffed the pen back into the folds of his tunic when he was finished. “Good. Is there anything else you need?”
“I would like to check the registry,” Larna said, and I caught a note of uncertainty in her voice. “I am hoping that…”
Jett Markku shook his head slowly, standing up and pressing his hands into the small wooden table. “No one has arrived from Katar since the village burned,” he said softly. “No one but you.”
…
The moment that I opened my eyes, I knew that Larna was gone. My senses told me that it was still nighttime. There were no loud voices and the dirt and stone outside smelled wet. Stretching, I ran my fingers through my red mane. I would have to trim it soon or it would grow wild.
Larna had not seemed too upset before we fell asleep. Even though she had not seen her mother and brother for two years, I knew that a secret part of her hoped that they would be here. She could not completely let go of the idea that, if they saw her again, they might forgive her and accept her back into the family. I felt a wave of sympathy for my lover. First her family had abandoned her and now the Farseer pack. No wonder she was so possessive of me. She did not want me to leave her, too.
Deciding to show my lover that she was not alone, I pulled on some clothes and left the tent. Slowly, I walked the perimeter of the campsite, picking my way over rocks and patches of gravel. I saw a small group of night guards chatting over their dinners, but they hardly noticed me as I slipped away from them.
The stars were high in the sky and cool wind started to blow when I finally found Larna. She was sitting on a flat rock, looking down the mountainside even though it was too dark to see the forest or the plains below them. The sight of her, curled up into a ball with her shoulders hunched up and her arms wrapped around her knees, made my chest tighten. I came up behind Larna and put my hand on my dark-haired lover’s back. She could feel her body shaking.
“Do they believe in life after death in Seria?” Larna asked in a small voice. Seeing my protector so weak, so utterly helpless, threw me for a moment and it took several seconds to answer.
“Yes,” I said. “The Serians believe in an afterlife, just like we do. They call The Maker “God” and he takes your soul to paradise after you die.”
“God?” said Larna, not turning around.
“You seem like you are having trouble believing in The Maker right now,” I said softly.
Larna nodded, but did not answer, not trusting her voice.
We sat in silence for a long time. I climbed up on the rock next to Larna and hugged her. She hugged me back. We stayed absolutely still, afraid that if we moved, the moment would break.
“Do you believe in the afterlife?” Larna asked finally, her voice muffled by my hair.
“Yes. Sometimes I wonder, but I always go back to believing. If I didn’t, I would probably go crazy.”
“I dinna know if I believe, but I want to.”
There was no proper way to answer a statement like that.
Larna stopped crying, but she still held me tight in her arms. “I am sorry I was leaving you,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“It’s alright. You needed to be alone.”
“How did you know to come for me now?”
“A lover always knows,” I told her, kissing her forehead. “It always hurts worse at night.”
“I never really expected them to be here,” she said. “But I couldna stop hoping…” Larna sniffed and brushed her tears away with her thumb. “We should go back to our tent.”
“We can stay here, if you want.”
I could feel Larna’s smile through the dark. “No, we can go back to our tent. It is cold out here.” I knew that she was not cold, but did not argue with her. Our Wyr blood kept us warm on cold nights.
I held her hand, letting her fingers wrap around mine. “Come with me, Tuathe. Let’s go back to bed.”
…
Chapter Six:
The next evening, I felt restless. I was lying down in our tent, mostly because I had nothing else to do. I wanted to run, to change and explore the mountains, but I was afraid of frightening the soldiers. Jett Bahari had not forbidden me from changing, but if someone mistook me for a real wolf or even a dangerous Wyr, I might be injured. I knew that my other form was frightening to humans.
I was relieved when the tent flap opened and my lover slipped inside, staring down at me from her standing position. I smiled up at her and her brown eyes brightened. “Arim Dei,” I said, even though it was nighttime.
“You are restless,” said Larna, sensing my feelings immediately. She could probably smell them as well as read them on my face.
“A little,” I admitted.
“You should change, little bird. You will have to when the moon comes again, anyway.” That thought had not occurred to me yet. I wondered how the camp would react to my half-shape. Not well, I imagined. It would probably be best if Larna and I went as far away as possible when half-shape came.
“I don’t want to upset anyone,” I said. The excuse sounded weak when spoken aloud.
Larna shook her head at me indulgingly. “Ah, Cate… you are always thinking of other people.” She did not mean it as a criticism and she was smiling. “Do you want me to help you release some of your energy?” The words rolled from her tongue in a way that made it clear what she had in mind.
My eyebrows rose on my forehead. “Here?” I squeaked, a little nervous. Making love outside was one thing, but here, even though we were inside a tent, we were in the middle of a campsite and someone might hear…
“You are embarrassed?” Larna teased me, kneeling down and stroking my arm with her fingertips. I shivered.
“No…” I lied.
Larna knew that I was nervous and she spent long minutes just kissing me. Her soft mouth was the only part of her body touching mine. When her hand finally lifted to stroke my neck, I felt blazing heat along my skin. My eyes fluttered shut.
My hand curled around Larna’s hip, pulling her closer, wanting to feel her body tight against mine. I forgot my shyness as my lover pulled my shirt over my head, freeing my breasts and ruining my hair. I was past caring. She kissed her way across my chest right away, hardly giving me time to think or breathe.
Stripping Larna was difficult. She did not want to leave my breasts and held tighter whenever I tried to pull away to loosen her clothes. Finally, her leggings were tossed in a corner of the tent and her shirt was lifted up under her arms, but I could not get it over her head. I gave up and lost myself in the sensations.
Slowly, torturously, her lips moved down my stomach, stopping to pay attention to each freckle as she tugged at my remaining clothes. I looked down at Larna with large, frightened eyes, breathing shallowly. I could guess where she would go next. My lover felt my quick heartbeat and kissed my hipbone, stroking my side. “Be you all right, little bird? I canna force you.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing. “Be gentle,” I pleaded. The words caught in my throat, which was tight with tears.
With her cheek resting against my belly, Larna threaded her fingers through soft red curls, trying to calm me. My stomach was still in knots. Her hand made me less nervous. It was her mouth that scared me. This was a totally alien act. Luciana had not even kissed my lips, let alone… But this was Larna, I reminded myself. I let her ease my thighs open.
At first, she only stroked with her hand, waiting for the soft pink line to blossom open and swell. It took longer than usual for my wetness to coat her fingers, but she was patient. I held stiff as she slid inside of me, the tense muscles catching her fingers and clutching tight. She could not move her hand.
“Shh, sweetling. Let me in, Catie,” she coaxed, pressing light kisses between the points of my hipbones. Her voice calmed me and I relaxed. Her two long fingers probed deeper, finding their snug home. “My good girl.” I felt the words breathed just over me and I whimpered.
Larna growled in her throat and pressed her nose and mouth against me, breathing slowly. She was waiting a breath away. A few beats and I angled my hips up, covering the last small space. The first scrape of her tongue over me was like a shower of sparks – my body seized and then everything loosened. I could not decide whether it hurt or felt indescribably wonderfu
l.
And then I realized why I was afraid. It was too soft, too slow. I was adrift, undecided. I needed Larna to be the strong one for me. I needed her to taste me whether I felt ready or not. “No, love… please…” Larna looked up, looking almost as frightened as I felt, worried that she had hurt me.
“Stop?” she asked, concerned.
“No, it’s just… I said – gentle, but… I want…” I could not make my thoughts clear.
But Larna understood. Her fingers, still inside of me, curled sharply, and she gave a hard nip to my thigh. She started a harsh, rocking rhythm with one hand as the other jerked my legs further apart, forcing me open. Her lips stroked the small, hard pearl above as a flood of wetness poured onto her hand and wrist and into her mouth. This reassured both of us.
“Mine,” she murmured in between the heavy strokes of her tongue and hand. “You are… mine…”
It hurt wonderfully. I was delirious with pleasure. With Larna possessing me, claiming me roughly, I could allow myself to feel. Treated like something small, something precious, made me feel… safe. Cherished. The decision seemed like it was not mine anymore and so I was not afraid of it. The slow burn between my legs grew. I tossed my head, my hair plastered to my face and neck.
I opened my eyes for the first time, looking down at Larna’s dark head between my legs. Clear brown eyes met mine as her fingers pulled out of me and her tongue pressed inside. My inner walls fluttered wildly and there was another gush of wetness. Watching her taste me made me feel so much more… It was right.
With long, broad licks from top to bottom, she covered every secret place. I was completely open and vulnerable against her warm lips and mouth and tongue. She would stop every few moments to bite or suck certain spots that made my hips buck and twist. I breathed heavily, gasping and whimpering, frightened, loving tears streaming down my cheeks. Why had I waited so long for this? The same part of this gift that made it frightening also made it more – intimate, soul-baring – than only a hand.
She held me on the edge for what seemed like ages, but was probably only seconds. Larna wanted me to find paradise almost as much as I did. Perhaps more, if that was possible. “Come for me,” she ordered, and I released with a powerful shudder around her hand as she pressed one last kiss against my sensitive bundle.
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