Sterling's eyes narrowed. “What does this mean for Orla?”
Audunn's eyes moved to scan the woodland. “She is the Supreme Ruler of the Ulv and the most powerful in our realm.”
Sterling swallowed twice before she asked the question which had been burning in her mind. “Does this mean she will have to return to Greece?”
Audunn turned to Sterling and cupped her cheek tenderly. “That is Orla's decision to make. She is the supreme ruler and no one can make decisions for her. She only answers to the gods now.”
“But what if they…”
“They need her, Princess,” Audunn said quickly and took Sterling's hand in hers. “I am of the opinion that they will try to abide by her wishes within limits.” The blue eyes were open as they stared into hers. “You are a priority to my granddaughter. Never underestimate your value when it comes to her.”
The words, spoken so convincingly, made Sterling smile. She would trust Orla to make the right choice for them…for their future. Sterling lifted her hand, still in Audunn's grasp, and turned it so she could place a soft kiss on the other woman's hand.
“Thank you, milady,” she murmured.
“Think nothing of it, Princess. I simply relayed what was obvious. Now, will you accommodate your mother's wish and retire to your sleeping chamber for a short rest?”
Sterling blinked at the unusual request until she saw a sheepish-looking Cybralle standing a few feet away. Audunn gave Sterling a warm smile before she turned to leave. When she passed Cybralle, she stopped to look at the warrior. Sterling noticed that they were the same height.
“If you have a few moments, later, I have someone I would like for you to meet.”
The statuesque blonde moved on and Cybralle came to stand with Sterling.
“Do you know whom it is she wants you to meet?” Sterling asked. Cybralle seemed to ponder the question for a few moments before she shook her head.
“I cannot think of anyone.” The silver eyes searched Sterling's face. “Are you feeling better?”
Sterling smiled at her mother and curled an arm around Cybralle's waist, as she rested her head against the strong shoulder. “I am now. Thank you for sending her to talk to me.”
Cybralle pressed a kiss on Sterling's hair. “She offered and I was desperate. I am indebted to her now.”
“Go meet the person she wants to introduce to you. I believe then you will have paid up what you owe her.” Sterling looked up at Cybralle. “I never thanked you for coming after me, Umah.” She stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to her mother's cheek. “I am so happy to have you here with me at this very moment.”
Cybralle gently cradled Sterling's face between her rough hands. “What else was I to do, daughter? Your mother and I could not bear the thought of you alone out here. You are all we have, Sterling. You are the manifestation of the love we bear each other.” Sterling's eyes shot full of tears when Cybralle's voice broke. “We will always be here for you.”
“I know, Umah. I love you too.”
“I think we can both do with a bit of rest,” Cybralle said, as she looked down at Sterling. “Afterward, I will seek out Audunn.”
“Me too.” Sterling scanned the forest again. I hope you are safe wherever you are, my love.
Chapter 25
Orla's whole body shook from exhaustion, as she lowered herself into the chair. Her eyes were fixed on the sleeping form of her wife, as she waited for her body to recover from the rigors she had put it through. The closer she had come to the castle, the stronger she sensed Sterling's sadness. That had caused her to push harder. Looking at the beautiful face, so serene in repose, Orla knew it was all worthwhile.
She found it strange that she had run off in the first place to find solace from her troubled thoughts, only to return and find that her comfort was here…lying in her bed. She pushed to her feet and waited a few moments for her legs to stabilize. With slow, small steps, she made her way to the bathing area and tossed the shift someone had offered her at the castle gate. She submerged her body in the cool water and sighed as she felt the fatigue seep out of her limbs. She finished up her bath and returned to the room.
Sterling was still fast asleep. As quietly as she could, Orla lay down next to Sterling, facing her wife. Her eyes moved hungrily over the beautiful face. The urge to touch Sterling was so strong, but she was scared to wake her and deal with the fact that she had deserted her yet again. How long before Sterling grew tired of luring the beast back to her arms? How long before she realized that she was wasting her time on someone who was not worth it in the end? Orla rolled onto her back, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay. She tried to envision a life without Sterling, and she felt her blood run cold at the very thought. A lone tear escaped. She had to find a way to make this right. She slowly sat up. She needed to talk to her grandmother.
“Where are you going?”
Orla looked over her shoulder. “You are awake. I…I thought you…”
“Stay with me.”
The soft pleading voice rendered Orla incapable of refusing. “Whatever you want, dearling.”
“Good.” Sterling pulled her down into her arms. “Please, be here when I wake up. I want your face to be the first thing I see when I wake again.”
“I will be here.”
Orla's heart thudded in her chest, as the slender form of her wife moved over hers. Sterling squirmed and shifted around a bit before she felt she was comfortable enough to sleep. Orla received a small kiss to the chin and then all was quiet. Holding her breath for a while longer, Orla finally heard soft snores coming from her wife.
Her talk with Audunn would have to wait.
***
Cybralle's eyes were sharp and alert, as she followed the tall, cloaked figure through the noisy, well-lit streets. She only had a glimpse of the city when she came through earlier, since her attention was focused more on her entourage of Ulvs than the scenery. Much more relaxed now, she was astounded by the beauty hidden amongst the rough, mountainous landscape. From the outside, the small city seemed to be carved out of a mountain. The entrance was hidden behind massive boulders and guarded by fierce-looking warriors. Once inside, it was evident why it was guarded so well. In total contrast to the harshness of the surroundings, the city exhibited a gentle, tranquil aura. It was almost like a labyrinth built from the inside out. The outer edges of the city were encircled by barracks, housing Ulv warriors as the first line of defense. Nestled behind them were cottages, which, in turn, enclosed the palace. Leafy trees and plush, green lawns lined the streets, which added to the serenity of the town.
Following the Ulv Queen as they meandered unencumbered through the charming little town, Cybralle absorbed as much as she could. The scene would not be a strange phenomenon, except that all this was happening in the middle of the night. Everywhere she looked, children played in the street, and adults filled outdoor eating establishments, talking, drinking, and dancing. She warranted a mere glance from the people as they passed by. Cybralle immediately thought of Mesmeria, and a small grin came to her lips. Mesmeria loved the night. With the dawning of the night, Mesmeria shed her crown and became just another fun-seeking Karasi. They would sneak out of the palace in rustic clothes to stroll through the city, or just to have a meal and a drink at a lively inn. She would fit in here quite well. Mesmeria would appreciate the anonymity she would enjoy here.
Audunn came to a stop and still absorbed in what was happening around her, Cybralle barely missed walking into the tall blonde. They stood before one of the many wooden cottages. The door was closed, but the light of a fire could be seen through a window on the side. She looked at Audunn and the Ulv Queen gestured for her to knock. Cybralle frowned. Now why would Audunn expect her to knock on the door of a total stranger?
“Go ahead,” the tall blonde urged her gently.
Taking a deep breath, Cybralle did as she was told. Just when she thought no one was home, she heard footsteps approaching. The door swung open and
a tall, slender woman was silhouetted against the light coming from inside the house. The woman's face was cast in shadows, making it impossible for Cybralle to make out her features. The woman curtsied in Audunn's direction.
“Welcome to my humble home, Majesty.”
Audunn acknowledged the greeting with a curt nod and gestured for Cybralle to enter when the woman stepped aside in obvious invitation. Cybralle hesitated for a few seconds. As she passed the woman, she made a point of trying to see her face, but the woman had averted her eyes in respect to the queen. Cybralle tried to take in as much as she could in that short glimpse. The woman was much older than Cybralle; her hair was grey, and her surprisingly unwrinkled face was darkened by the sun. She was rather tall, but a few inches shorter than Cybralle and the queen.
Cybralle's eyes swept the interior of the small, but neat cottage. A cheery fire burned in a fireplace and a pot simmered over the flames. The mouthwatering smell plucked at Cybralle's memory. She inhaled deeply, hoping for an elusive notion to surface. As she mentally relaxed herself to lure the memory outward, her eyes briefly touched on items in the room that stood out. A few scrolls lay on a table, an inkpot with quills nearby. There were no paintings on the walls, instead small clay figurines and plants decorated the room. On the far side, she saw another door and assumed it to lead to the bedchamber.
She heard the door close behind her and turned. For a moment her brain registered confusion; Audunn was not in the room with them anymore. Only the grey-haired woman was there and she was still looking down. Cybralle's hand moved to the hilt of her sword.
“You will not need that,” the woman said. Instead of feeling reassured, Cybralle's hand tightened around the hilt. She was not leaving anything to chance, especially not when she found herself in a town occupied by deadly Ulvs.
“Who are you and what do you want from me?”
The grey head lifted and the air in the room suddenly felt too heavy as Cybralle found herself struggling to breathe. Her eyes shot full of tears, as she watched achingly familiar eyes looking back her. The silver eyes burned with deep intensity as they roved over Cybralle's face. The woman moved with surprising speed for her advanced age.
“You returned to me.”
“Umaha?” Cybralle whispered softly, as she was pulled into a fierce embrace. She could not stop the tears that fell from her eyes, as she was surrounded by the sorely missed warmth and smell of her grandmother.
***
Orla's eyes flickered open and she blinked at the sight of bright silver eyes so close to her. The expression in those silver eyes changed from one of intense concentration to deep adoration. Orla felt a warm glow in her chest.
“What are you doing, beloved?”
“You smell different. That is probably the first thing I noticed when we met again.” Sterling snuggled back into Orla's arms, pressing her lips under Orla's ear.
“Is it unpleasant?”
“On the contrary, my love. That musky scent makes my heart stutter and my knees buckle.”
Blinking at the ardent declaration, Orla pulled her head back so she could look into Sterling's silver eyes. “Is the same thing happening right now?”
Sterling took Orla's hand in her own, her eyes a dark, stormy grey. Orla's senses were focused on the path her hand followed as it traced down the princess' naked chest, over each of Sterling's breasts. Their eyes held, as Sterling pushed Orla's hand farther down. Orla's breath caught when Sterling singled out one of Orla's digits and used the tip to gently probe her navel. Orla’s free hand clenched in a fist, as she felt a shiver run through Sterling at the sensation brought on by the touch. She did not have long to savor the feelings running through her own body, before Sterling steered her hand lower. She growled softly when her fingers were dipped into the soft, slick flesh of Sterling's sex. Orla was tempted to take over and ravish her wife, making her scream out until her voice was hoarse, but the mere thought of Sterling manipulating her hand to bring herself pleasure, made Orla shudder in anticipation.
“Ahhhhh…” Sterling gasped softly, as she used Orla's middle finger to circle her clitoris slowly. Orla's sex clenched in empathy, as she watched a look of sheer pleasure contort Sterling’s face. “How I have managed to survive so long without your touch is a mystery.”
Orla desperately wanted to say something to that, but just like when in wolf form, her brain was quickly running empty of thoughts. The only sense left for her to explore at the moment was to feel. Clenching her jaw, she closed her eyes when Sterling’s legs spread wider and a warm sheath enclosed her captive finger. Sterling threw her head back, as she began to move her hips slowly.
***
Sterling slowly slanted her hips and worked Orla's finger deeper into her sheath. She drew air through her teeth, as she felt Orla's other fingers skim over her swollen clitoris in the process. Desperate to see the play of emotions on Orla's face, she looked at her wife. The expression on Orla's face was one of unbridled desire. A sheen of sweat formed on the dark woman's upper lip. Sterling wondered if she was ever going to lose the awe she felt for this wonderful woman. Orla was powerful enough to let go of all restraints and just take her—use her to assuage the burning inside her own body. But here she was waiting patiently and painfully for Sterling to have her pleasure at her own expense.
Sterling placed a tender kiss on Orla's chin. “Join me, beloved. I do not want to see you suffer like this.”
With breathtaking speed and power, Orla quickly reversed their positions. Lying on her back, Sterling hissed when Orla slid down her body and hungrily latched onto her clitoris. With a deep moan, she lay there shuddering as Orla expertly ravished her sex with deep, open mouth kisses.
***
Cybralle sighed deeply as she lean back in her chair, rubbing her stomach. How could she not have recognized the smell at once? Nobody could make rabbit stew like her grandmother. Still self-conscious about the way she had broken down and clung to the woman, Cybralle dared to look at the woman who sat opposite her. This was the closest person to a mother for her and probably the only other person after Mesmeria who knew her better than she knew herself. Cybralle knew, deep down, she should be angry for the all lies, but she found she could not conjure up any of those emotions. She quickly looked away when the grey head lifted.
“It is more than acceptable to feel anger, my child.”
Cybralle swallowed hard. Did Vernera even know how much her granddaughter had missed her voice? As a child rejected by her mother, Cybralle had grown accustomed to the warm bosom of the stoic woman who had held her at night as warm tears streaked down her face. It was that calm, warm whisper that she was not alone that had made her crawl deeper into the loving embrace. It was this woman's love that had made her stand up to bullies who mocked her about having been abandoned by her own mother. She turned her head and met dark, grey eyes.
“Never anger, Umaha. Just regret,” she murmured. “Regret, because I feel I have deserted you in the end and missed out on many more wonderful years with you.”
The older woman's eyes shot full of tears. “You were on the path of your destiny, Cybra. I could never stop you from attaining the greatness for which you were intended.” Vernera wiped at her eyes. “My only regret is that I was not brave enough to be honest with you.”
“Why not, Umaha? You knew I adored you.”
A brilliant smile flashed over the woman's sad features. “And I you, my child. Not even the birth of my own child brought such happiness to me. You were a special little girl, brave and strong.”
They shared a warm look.
“Does this mean that we are Ulv, Umah?” Cybralle was scared of the answer for whatever reason she did not know.
“No, child, we are servants to the Ulv. The women folk in my lineage have been serving the Ulv as bards. We are of a handful of families who have been given the task of conserving the oral history of the Ulv. We have been rewarded greatly for our service and many blessings came our way.”
“Such as?”
“Longevity.”
Cybralle blinked. “Longevity?”
“Yes,” Vernera smiled. “I am eighty summers now and can easily live another eighty if I so choose.” Vernera placed her hand over Cybralle's. “It sounds complicated, but I assure you it is not.”
“For you perhaps.” Cybralle came to her feet, her head swimming with fear-provoking thoughts. “I cannot stay too long. My daughter is here and…”
“She is very beautiful. She has our eyes too.”
Cybralle gave her grandmother a sharp look. “Does that hold any significance?”
“No, Cybra. It simply means that she is most definitely of the Honig lineage,” Vernera said calmly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “It is truly rewarding to see you in the role of a mother. Your own mother does not know what she missed by not seeing you grow up.”
Buried pain and bitterness rose to the foreground. “Is…is she still alive?”
“Yes, and her children are grown too. I met them once, a few years ago.” The older woman frowned. “Your mother asked about you and I told her that you are better off dead to her.” The silver eyes grew dark with annoyance. “She has hurt you enough, I believe.”
Still looking out for me, Cybralle thought, as she circled the table to stand next to her grandmother. “Thank you. I would not have known what to say to her.”
A soft, wrinkled hand reached out for hers. Without hesitation, Cybralle took it. “You have done well for yourself, my daughter. Your destiny is in what lies ahead now, not in the past. Let the past stay where it is, with all its hurt and bitterness.”
“And you? Are you part of my past?” Cybralle held her grandmother's gaze and saw the shadow cross over the silver eyes.
“Maybe?” Vernera brought Cybralle’s hands to her lips and gently brushed over the back of the bronzed hand. “That is a decision you will have to make.”
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