Rosewood, Natalie - Octavia's Time [The Klawinken] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Natalie Rosewood

  Kala proceeded to pull up her shirt and unclasp her bra from the front. Octavia stood mesmerized by the sight of her friend’s small but perfectly proportioned breasts. Her nipples were pronounced, and the little silver rings were beautiful.

  “What do you think?”

  Octavia wasn’t sure what to say, so she decided to be truthful, even if it caused her embarrassment. “They’re beautiful. They really are. I mean the nipple rings.” She could feel her face turning red as she whispered, “Not that your breasts aren’t beautiful, too.”

  Kala giggled as she pulled on one of the rings. “Thanks. I just love them. I think you would, too. If you have an interest, you should contact the gallery I used.” Octavia remained silent, trying to look anywhere now but at Kala’s breasts before she thankfully fixed her bra and pulled down her shirt.

  “And,” Kala added with a grin, handing Octavia a business card from the gallery as they left the bathroom, “the staff actually make house calls for a minimal extra charge.”

  Normally she would have never considered wasting her meager savings on anything as taboo or frivolous as nipple piercings or tattoos, but ever since Kala had shown Octavia her own piercings, she had become obsessed with the idea. Along with student loans and some money her parents had saved, her tuition was paid. Her summer job at a podiatrist office helped pay for books and incidentals like gas for the secondhand car her father had found for her. However, Kala’s final words on the subject kept returning to her. “I’ve never felt so sensual and in tune with my own body since I’ve had the piercings. They’ve added a whole new meaning to the word ‘pleasure’.”

  A few days later, Octavia pulled out the business card she had stuffed in her purse, and against her better judgment, called the gallery. A gruff-sounding man answered the telephone and assured her they were most certainly licensed by the state. When she inquired about having her nipples pierced in the privacy of her own home, he responded without hesitation, “I have a technician that’s available on Saturday afternoon. He’s one of our best. Will that work for you, or would you prefer a woman? Where do you live?”

  She told him she didn’t mind a man. She didn’t tell him that she much preferred a man. Within twenty minutes after she hung up the telephone, he called her back to confirm the appointment. Mathieu, he told her, would arrive at her house around two o’clock on Saturday.

  Sighing, she peeled away the wax and cleaned up the kitchen. She ran her fingers lightly over her nubs that were now ultra-sensitive. She walked back upstairs, cleaned herself, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. No bra or panties were needed or wanted. She liked the rough feel of the jeans against her pussy and the way her shirt pulled tight across her breasts. She had to admit that they were delicious sensations. Her constant state of sexual tension was raising havoc with the life she had been quite happy with until her body decided it had a mind of its own. Could there be some truth to the Klawinken stories, or is it possible that my subconscious is feeding off them because I miss my sister more than I want to admit?

  She picked up her cell phone from the bed and arrowed down until she highlighted Evenela’s name. It was the last phone number she had for her sister. Her fingernail hovered over the green send button. She didn’t even know if her sister had the same cell phone number after all this time. This was stupid. She snapped the lid shut and threw her cell phone back on the bed. Evenela hated her as much as she did their parents, or she would have never left the way she did and then neglected to tell them she was getting married. Her sister had used her marriage to stick the knife in even deeper.

  Octavia remembered the day she had come home from school to find her mother sitting alone on the bed that had once been Evenela’s. Her eyes were closed, with tears streaming down her face, and her lips were moving as if she were praying. Octavia’s first thought was that something horrible must have happened to her father. Panicked, she ran to her mother. “Mom, where’s Dad? What’s happened?”

  When her mother didn’t respond, Octavia touched her hand to her mother’s shoulder. “Mom, you’re scaring me.”

  Her mother’s eyes flew open. “Octavia, dear…I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “Nothing’s wrong…that is if you think of your sister’s marriage to that man that she ran away with to Boston three years ago as a good thing. I feel like I’ve lost her all over again.”

  “Married. Evenela’s married. When?”

  “I got a letter from her today saying she’s been a married woman for the last few months, and according to her, happier than she’s ever been in her life. She felt obligated to notify us of her new last name. Kind of her, don’t you think?”

  Shocked by her sister’s revelation, Octavia sat down beside her mother. “I can’t believe she didn’t call to invite you to the wedding or to have Dad give her away. How could she be so cold and callous? I guess”—she shook her head sadly—“I never really knew my sister at all.”

  “I guess none of us did.” Her mother hugged Octavia to her, resting her head on daughter’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You keep your father and me going…knowing you love us regardless of our faults.”

  “I’m so sorry that Evenela treated you and Dad so badly. I really am. I’m nothing like her.”

  “I know you’re not. I just wish I had never allowed your grandmother to visit us that one time. I knew better, but I thought it was the kind thing to do. We had been told she didn’t have long to live, and all she wanted was to see you girls.”

  “You did the right thing. How could you have not allowed her to see us? I’m just sorry her mind was already gone. It’s a shame she hadn’t wanted to see us a long time before that.”

  “I told you there were harsh words between us. Terrible, hurtful things were said when I married your father. The estrangement was on both our parts.”

  “I know, Mom…I’m sorry.”

  “Now don’t worry yourself about that. What’s done is done. Besides, your father will be home soon, and I promised him I’d make stuffed pork chops tonight. Why don’t you go take a little nap? You look exhausted. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

  Octavia knew her mother well enough to know she was dismissing her for a reason. She obviously needed time to herself to further digest her daughter’s news. That night, at dinner, Octavia asked if she could see her sister’s letter.

  “Your sister’s letter contained things that your father and I prefer not to share…hurtful things that would serve no purpose for you to see. It would only cause all of us more unhappiness. Even now that your sister says she’s happy, she still wants to punish us for whatever demons she struggled with when she lived at home.”

  “I know, Mom. But I’m old enough to handle whatever she has to say. I would really like to read it.”

  “Well, that’s impossible because I’ve already destroyed it.”

  “Destroyed it! Oh, Mom. How could you?”

  “After I showed it to your father, I couldn’t bear to have it in my possession one more minute. Just remember, she’s living the life she’s always wanted with the family she always wanted, in Boston. Her new husband and family have her now.”

  The hurt and sarcasm in her mother’s voice was not lost on her. She also knew when she was in this state of mind there would be no changing her mind.

  Her mother’s voice rose in pitch as she continued. “She wants nothing more to do with us, and there’s nothing we can do to change that. You need to forget about her completely.”

  Initially Octavia had thought Evenela’s leaving home might be a good thing because she never seemed happy and was constantly fighting with their parents over the most trivial of issues. She had hoped that if her sister went somewhere new, she might learn to appreciate the family she left behind. She also hoped that the man she ran away with would help her find the kind of happiness that would spill over into all their lives. She still missed her sister regardless of what she had done. If only she could have read Evenela’s lett
er, it might have helped her understand. Now she would never know how her sister had worded the letter and if she had made any reference to her younger sister.

  “We wish your sister no ill will,” her father spoke softly, breaking the silence, his voice full of emotion. “I want you to know that sometimes, no matter how hard it is, letting go is for the best. Your sister was always so stubborn and wild. Hopefully this man she has married will be able to tame her and give her life direction.”

  “You, on the other hand,” her mother interjected, “have always been more grounded and even tempered. Evenela tried to convince herself that she was something she wasn’t. My advice to you is to learn from your sister’s mistakes. Your father and I have always tried to do our best by both of you. I hope you know that and don’t decide to leave us without a care the way your sister did.”

  Sadness tugged at her heart as she looked at the two people she loved most in the world. “You know I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you,” she choked out. “I’m sorry Evenela still hates us. I’m sorry about everything that’s happened. I don’t understand any of this, I really don’t.” With that said, she practically knocked over her chair as she ran from the table and up the stairs to her room and locked the door, where she sobbed her heart out. She cried for her sister, her parents, and herself. Upsetting her parents wouldn’t bring the letter or Evenela back. When she emerged from her room the next morning, she was once again the dutiful daughter her parents expected. Secretly, she hoped she might receive her own letter from her Evenela, but the letter never came.

  Not since then, until now, had she felt so alone. There was no one to help her understand the dreams and lustful cravings that were all but consuming her. She had taken a few psychology classes, and in one class in particular they had studied transference. She had used a few of the techniques to help control her unwanted behavior. However, more times than not, she succumbed far too easily to the agonizing thoughts and images that inflamed her primitive urges and caused her to do things she normally would have been far too inhibited to even think about, let alone try.

  She did find that working with the kids at the homeless shelter in town, where she volunteered for a few hours once a week, provided a slight reprieve when it came to thinking about someone other than herself. They were so eager to be accepted and to learn. The parents were down on their luck, but for the most part, loved their children. However, there were a few that seemed to care less about their children’s welfare, and they were the ones she had a hard time being civil to, even though she knew her job was to simply be helpful, comforting and nonjudgmental.

  Her mother, although supportive of her desire to help others, found the time she spent at the shelter a concern. “You know those people are unstable. Just be careful one of them doesn’t turn on you or worse.”

  She had tried to calm her mother’s fears. There was no way she was going to stop volunteering. She loved reading to the children and helping them with their studies. They needed her, and she felt it was one of the more worthwhile things she did with her time. Luckily, her mother backed down, and Octavia didn’t have to take a stand. She hated conflict and tried to avoid it at all costs, especially when it came to her parents.

  Forcing herself to think about her family and the kids at the homeless shelter provided a much-needed diversion. However, she still had some time before her appointment, so she pulled out her literature book from her book bag and turned to Monday’s assignment. Reading would help her to remain calm and focused while she waited for the man named Mathieu to arrive.

  She had just finished answering the questions at the end of the chapter when she heard a knock at the front door. Perfect timing, she thought to herself, grabbing her cell phone from the bed and running down the stairs. She stopped and took a deep breath at the front door, feeling her breasts swell and her nipples come to attention. Dear God, all he did was knock on the door, and this is how I react. What will he think of me when he begins the piercings?

  She was going to expose her breasts to a stranger, an act that would normally have kept her from even considering having her nipples pierced. She put her hands to her cheeks. They were warm. However, it wasn’t embarrassment that generated the unwanted heat throughout her body. Whatever was happening to her libido was intensifying by the minute, and not for better.

  Chapter 2

  Mathieu Lacroix stood very still with a black leather bag in his hand and waited for the woman who was destined to be his mate open the door. He had only seen her from a distance these past few years, biding his time until she turned twenty-one and would be ready to take her place as a Klawinken.

  The front door creaked open slowly until she was standing in front of him in just jeans and a T-shirt, her beautiful, long auburn hair framing the face he dreamed about every night. Pretty light-blue eyes looked into his, making his knees weak. She appeared startled by his appearance. He could see her body shivering uncontrollably and knew she felt the living current of their heritage flow between them. He moved closer and put his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. She leaned into him for support.

  Too soon, she backed away, regaining her balance. “I’m so sorry. I must have lost my footing or something.” She moved further back into the house, holding the door for him to follow.

  “No problem. Glad I was here to catch you.” He smiled. “I’m Mathieu Lacroix. We have a two o’clock appointment.”

  In person, she was lovelier than any dream he had ever dreamed. He was so ready for her. However, unlike Octavia, he was fully aware of who he was and had embraced his heritage. While waiting for her to mature, there was never a shortage of women who wanted to share his bed with the kind of wild abandon he demanded.

  They enjoyed running their fingers through his longish light-brown hair when they screamed his name and he filled them with his seed that had them begging for more. He loved the feel of a woman’s body in his strong arms, drawing her close to him until he could feel her heart beating out of her chest. But always it was Octavia he craved. Regardless of how experienced the woman or the intensity of the orgasm, he had never felt the oneness he knew could exist with his one true mate. There was only one woman who could make him feel that way, and he had only been told of her existence when he had turned eighteen years old. He had waited for this moment for ten long years.

  His father had taken him on a hunting trip to their summer home near Moosehead Lake, Maine, for what he said was some father and son time. It was there that his education into the Klawinken people began. He told him their people had been mating in secret for centuries. Only those born from the mating of Klawinken were given the gift of their heritage, the ability to find their one true mate and to develop the skills that were theirs as part of their enlightenment. They were gifted with the wonders of a love that knew no boundaries and a life that could be an asset to all humankind, if they chose wisely. Although the male could develop his talents without mating, a female could not fully develop hers until she became one with her mate. Some matings occurred soon after the male’s eighteenth birthday with an older Klawinken woman who was sometimes not so patiently waiting for him. Most males waited for their mate to turn twenty-one.

  At first Mathieu had laughed at his father’s story in disbelief, thinking he must have had a bottle of Scotch hidden away somewhere that he had taken a few too many sips from in secret. It was only when his father levitated himself and his chair to just below the ceiling of the room that Mathieu stopped laughing. He continued to stare while his father very gently lowered himself and the chair back down to the floor.

  “Now, Mathieu, I know this is a lot to take in. It was for me when I was your age. My reaction was pretty much the same as yours. My father, however, proved to me the truth of what he was saying by flinging me on his back and taking me so high up into the atmosphere I practically lost consciousness. Now that’s a trip I’ve never forgotten. Your grandfather always was a bit of a show-off. To me, it’s not so much how
you come to believe what I say, Mathieu. It’s that you do believe what I say.”

  Shocked, he just stared at his father, this man he thought he knew. “Does everyone have to go through this rite of passage? I mean, are all my friends doing something like this when they turn eighteen?”

  “No. We’re a select group of people that have survived through the centuries through pure determination and, I must say, love. Most humans go through their lives never using certain parts of their brains. We, on the other hand, at certain ages, eighteen for boys and twenty-one for girls, begin to develop our brains more fully, almost to capacity. Those areas that are never used by most of our brothers and sisters on this planet are awakened, and with that awakening comes the ability to interpret signals and signs that can result in feelings of unequaled pleasure, and insights into a world that others only glimpse in their dreams. There is no denying that our intellect level far exceeds the norm. However, we rely more on our instincts than the intelligent quotient that so many people measure the value of their lives by. Intelligence is only one small facet of what makes us who we are.”

  “I don’t understand. I hear what you’re saying, but I just don’t understand.”

  “Perfectly normal, and you won’t for a while. Your mind and body will be going through many changes over the next few years. Those changes will help you to begin to understand your potential. They will also give you glimpses of your mate, the woman who you will spend the rest of your days with.”

  “Really?” Now that interested him.

  “Yes, really,” his father said with a soft smile that seemed to take him to another place for a few moments. “I dreamed about your mother long before I met her. I knew everything a man could know about a woman before I ever so much as said ‘hello’ to her. When we did finally speak, she took my breath away. Nothing can prepare you or her for your first mating. Being Klawinken is truly a gift.”