Ronan: Night Wolves

by Lisa Daniels

  Bethany wasted no time then trying to get Ronan out of his clothes. It seemed like a great idea—revealing what lay under those now fresh, clean blue silk shirt and white pants. The clothes suited him, giving him a scruffy, easy-going manner that suited the rakish smile he wore. She had managed to catch glimpses of his chest before, and arms, but nothing else. And she wasn’t disappointed with the exposed, lightly-furred chest that followed. He had pale blond curls over his pecs, the hint of toned muscle around his stomach—a male specimen in his prime.

  Even with the scars, they didn’t detract from his beauty. Though she saw some unpleasant ones, banding under his ribs, knotting over one corner of his chest. She salivated otherwise at the sight of such physical beauty, and the lust must have shown in her eyes, because his grin turned wicked.

  “Hey, I want to see you, too.”

  His hands helped unbutton her white dress. Bride colors in Fjordan, but not here, for some reason. They preferred red for a virgin bride.

  With her front open to him, his eyes traced over her soft, pale skin, her breasts, and the light pink nipples which stood to attention, partly from the drop in temperature, mostly from his scrutiny.

  “Lovely,” he murmured, a hand reaching out to touch under her chin. “You truly are. Any man would be lucky to have you. I’m definitely lucky, since without you, I couldn’t be standing here this night.” The grateful look made Bethany’s heart melt. The flattery did its job—except she knew he was being genuine. He meant every word.

  She sighed, even as they slowly worked off the rest of the clothing, leaving nothing but the skins they were born in. One short stagger to the very inviting bed later, they slid themselves along it. His erection took her attention for a moment, since she’d never actually seen a male part.

  “So that’s what they look like.”

  Ronan blinked, before smirking. “Oh, good. No one to compare it to. Even more lucky, see?”

  She laughed, before her fingertips wavered near it. “It’s not like I’m a virgin for nothing.”

  “Yes, but people kind of get to see one way or another. Bursting in on a sibling… kids going you show me yours, I show you mine. It happens. Or maybe it’s just me.”

  “Yes… because it didn’t happen with me. Princess, remember?”

  He shook his head. “How can I forget? That’s only the hundredth time you’ve told me you’re a princess.”

  Bethany shushed him again, before pointing at his erection. “Um, Ronan… can I touch it?”

  Ronan’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he still wore the amusement on his lips. “Sure. It won’t bite. Don’t worry.”

  The texture of it was so strange to Bethany. She heard the guard complaining about being kicked between the legs before, and understood better why it might hurt so much. And the… testicles underneath. Encasing what helped contribute to children.

  Now was probably not the time to start getting embarrassed, but Bethany managed it all the same.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never actually seen a female body before. Shocking, I know. Man at my age.”

  “Really?” Now it was Bethany’s turn to be surprised. “But… you’re old. Older than me. And men… don’t they sleep around more?”

  “Depends who you’re asking. I certainly don’t. Though to be fair, I did spend time being a slave and dealing with moody Golubrians for a good slice of my life, so… it builds tensions up. If you know what I mean.” His eyes gleamed in sudden lust. His pupils dilated, filling up the yellow. “And if you keep touching me like that… I might not be able to control myself.”

  “I don’t want you to control yourself,” Bethany replied, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.

  He shuddered at that. Then, in a swipe of movement, he moved her hand away from him, pushed her onto the bed, and his pelvis brushed between her legs.

  Bethany’s heart fluttered at an incredible pace, and threatened to explode when his erection pressed against her wetness there, seeking a way inside. When he did, it became difficult to concentrate after that.

  Well, until he stopped abruptly, concerned, and said, “Isn’t there supposed to be, um, resistance? Doesn’t this hurt?”

  Mother did mention about the hymen, at least. “It’s fine for me. My, uh, resistance is gone because of the horse riding I’ve done. It happens.”

  Ronan appeared reassured by that, and before Bethany could comment on the fact that if he kept interrupting the sex, they might lose the mood, he began thrusting in her again, and her words soon crumbled into a litany of moans. She whimpered, crying out as the orgasm ripped through her. He kept going for a few moments afterwards, crackling pleasure through her, and when he came, too, he did so with a series of sharp thrusts.

  Then, panting, he nuzzled his head in her neck, and his sweat mingled with hers. Sharing their warmth. Their emotions.

  “Did that… feel good?”

  Of course it did… Bethany fought past her floating, beautiful feeling long enough to say, “Yes… and you?”

  She felt him nod against her neck. “Mm. That… I liked that.”

  “I think we both did.” There was a kind of dull ache between Bethany’s thighs, but a good one. First-time sex for both of them, and she had loved it. Enough to want to try again as soon as possible, but she saw the bone-deep exhaustion keeping Ronan down. Perhaps not now, then. Ronan adjusted himself further, now facing opposite her, with one arm looping over her ribs.

  They lay in each other’s arms, the lights weaving about them. Happy to talk, to decide whether they should get up or fall asleep.

  They eventually opted for sleep.

  After all, it had been a tiring journey for them. And they still had so far to go.

  Chapter Nine

  Although they were named husband and wife, although they consummated, leaving no room for doubt, Bethany still found it hard to look at Ronan and connect him with the word husband.

  Even after about a month since their return. It became easier to have him in her life, of course. To imagine doing everything with him. To wake up with him by her side, and to know the first thing she saw was either his sleeping face or his smile.

  Also, being with him induced a kind of drunken happiness. One she suspected would wear out… eventually. But the period of new love definitely felt nice. All those little butterflies in the stomach. Exchanging glances. Wanting to be in each other’s company.

  They usually spent time in Bethany’s assigned quarters, since Ronan didn’t get a whole lot of privacy back in the little cottage, and he didn’t want to have a place with the other werewolves in the palace. He wanted to be separate from them.

  Kiara didn’t have so much trouble with her husband. Mordred. Tall and imposing and perhaps a little arrogant in his manner. Nothing like Ronan, of course. Kiara spent a lot of time in the company of her redheaded servant, Winifred something.

  Turned out Winifred was actively trying to teach Kiara—and she must have been about level eight with her lightweaving. That lowly little servant did things with light that Bethany could only dream of. She conjured up multiple living lights, refracted colors, and obviously had mastered heat transference. Someone like her shouldn’t be a servant, but Bethany decided not to enquire too closely into the matter.

  The one thing Bethany knew that set them apart was the fact she knew what it felt like to take the light from everyone else. And to know she condemned others to certain death in the process.

  When she admitted this to Kiara, as predicted, Kiara saw nothing wrong with the light-stealing.

  “Are you joking? I think that’s a brilliant idea! They wouldn’t have seen that coming. Get it?”

  Bethany groaned, wanting to strangle her sister in that moment. She wasn’t sure she missed that part of Kiara’s personality…

  The only thing they needed to prepare for, on top of the palace life, was helping to promote the idea of an alliance by making a few diplomatic appearances to the public, with Ronan by her s
ide, visiting shops and the rich and poor alike, since the Kanthians needed to open up to the idea of the alliance. It was in place, of course, but all it took was for a rebel group like what happened in Golubria to ruin everything. So Bethany also went around with disguised guards. Just in case it didn’t work out the way they wanted. It was a great shame, really, but obviously alliances didn’t work like that.

  They needed to be built up with time, maybe forced down some people’s throats…

  Until eventually, everyone was on board with the concept. Fjordan needed the alliance of this powerful nation. And Kanthus itself could do with the additional resources Fjordan offered with iron, steel, and other metals.

  The last obstacle in their way was trying to explain about the underground catacombs and the murals they saw there.

  And for that, they needed the Kanthian scholars on board, direct from Bridgeside University.

  Bethany now waited anxiously with Ronan in the lower palace grounds, surrounded by books, and by a few highborn students who were able to study in the palace itself.

  “They won’t believe us,” she said, grasping Ronan’s hand, nervous for some reason. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but the idea of the scholars outright rejecting them made Bethany angry in advance. They couldn’t reject this. But of course… it wasn’t like they carried any evidence with them, either. It frustrated her.

  Yelena joined a few minutes later. Maybe with the three of them able to back it up, the scholars might pay more attention.

  “Settling in okay, Yelena? They found your family?”

  The former bandit shrugged, though a little smile spread over her face as well. “Yes. It’s… strange. We don’t really know what to make of each other. But they are accepting me as my mother’s daughter.”

  “It’s… good, right?”

  “Maybe. She had a mother, father, one sister. The sister is near my age, actually. So I guess it’s easier to see the family resemblance.”

  Okay was about the best they’d have for Yelena. If a stranger stumbled into your life and claimed to be the offspring of a long since missing daughter, how exactly would you react to that? At least they were accepting Yelena for now. Maybe in time, she’d feel like she had a family.

  Just as long as it wasn’t a family like Bethany’s. Poor girl didn’t deserve that.

  “We have to speak to a bunch of old people about the paintings?”

  “Yes,” Ronan answered Yelena. “We don’t have any evidence, so it’s just the word of us three. And we don’t know how significant the find is. If it even means anything.”

  The shadow man, Bethany thought. The one that stole the light from the world.

  That image of all the light disappearing into his fingertips, of the sun growing into a dark ball—of the moon being pushed in front, blocking the invisible heat from making it fully through…

  What kind of magic existed to be able to do such terrible things? No such magic was around these times. Just ordinary lightweavers. Except…. Kiara had something different. Something like those murals. Light turned solid. Light turned into a weapon.

  Maybe there was truth in it after all. Perhaps magic lost to time. Or a magic their nations weren’t aware of.

  A servant scuttled in. “The professors are here from the university, masters.” He gave a great bow, especially averting eyes from Ronan. “Shall I send them in?”

  “Yes,” Ronan said, with a bite of impatience. Since they were waiting specifically for those scholars.

  “Let’s hope it works out for the best.” Ronan kissed Bethany on the back of her left hand, brushing the knuckles, and Yelena made a pretend gagging sound.

  “Yelena, you’re eighteen, this shouldn’t be so gross for you anymore,” Ronan observed.

  “It’s not. But when you two go all gooey-eyed and then start groping each other in public, that’s where I draw the line.”

  “We’re not…”

  Two scholars came into the library. Both men, both entering their forties, and both with yellow eyes. Which probably made it easier to admit them into the palace, being highborn.

  They introduced themselves as professors Merle and Darcen. Merle, the shorter, portly one, looked as if he’d eaten a few too many good meals. Darcen fit the role of professor better, with his half-moon glasses, well-trimmed, light blond, slightly graying hair, and sloping thin features. Both wore the blue robes of the academy.

  “Let’s get down to business,” Merle said, apparently unconcerned by Ronan’s status. “We’ve heard that you uncovered some information regarding the disappearance of the sun, but you were unable to recover anything to help back up your story. So we have to take your word on it.”

  Bethany didn’t like the faint sneer of disdain in his voice. As if he was prepared already to throw away their statements.

  “Yes, well,” Ronan said, “we were a little under stress at the time. Given that the catacombs we found in the swamplands were overpopulated by night horde creatures. Scholarly research wasn’t the first thing on our minds.”

  “Catacombs? Under the swamps?” Now Darcen raised his thin eyebrows, slightly incredulous. “We’ve uncovered little such evidence.”

  “We could show you,” Ronan said. “But I wouldn’t advise going in there unless you have a few hundred people with you to fight. And scholarly expeditions don’t get the resources to do that, do they?”

  “Oh, please, just stop,” Bethany said. “You’re already getting heated up. You two are prepared to dismiss what we say immediately. Despite three of us going through the same experience. Just listen, please, before you make your waspish observations. You are supposed to be open to information, right?”

  “Right,” Darcen replied grudgingly. Merle’s chin wobbled petulantly, but he nodded.

  “Alright then, Princess. Describe what you saw.”

  As best as she could, Bethany described falling through the bog and landing in the caves, which had paintings all over the walls. Yelena and Ronan backed her up whenever needed. The scholars at least didn’t interrupt, though they did look like they wanted to in places. When she talked about the mural images, Darcen actually took out a quill, inkpot, and paper to record what she said. The quill scratched rapidly across the surface, putting any scribe to shame.

  Finishing with the night horde worshipping the effigy, they waited for the scholars to say something.

  “And all three of you, again, confirm that this is what happened?” Darcen finished scribbling on the paper.

  “Yes,” Yelena said.

  “Believe me, we’re still processing what had happened ourselves.” Ronan glanced helplessly at Bethany, believing, like her, that they didn’t find the information compelling at all.

  “It’s not the first time we’ve heard about some mythical figure taking the sunlight,” Merle said. “Obviously something happened to the sun. People are torn with what occurred. The information you’ve said—none of it is new.”

  This deflated Bethany’s ego. “Oh?”

  “No.” Merle gave her a thin smile. “Scholars have already postulated about the moon’s orbit and positioning changing, blocking off the sunlight. That’s actually the theory we most support at the moment. The one we’re not sold on is the concept of some legendary being responsible for taking all the light.”

  “And about the night horde worshipping an effigy?” Ronan leaned in. The scholars exchanged looks.

  “That’s interesting. If it’s true. We’d need to see these caves for ourselves. But if they’re as dangerous as you say… it’d be hard to figure out night horde culture.”

  “You’re interested in night horde culture? Not the bit about the sun?”

  “We don’t know much about the night hordes,” Merle admitted. “We know they’re scattered around in the endless dark, that they’re sensitive to light. We don’t know if they have good higher thinking or whether they’re just braindead bodies that react only by basic instinct to anything. But if you saw them worshipping some
thing… that implies a culture.”

  Bethany snorted to herself. She didn’t care about the night horde culture. It was the least of their concerns, honestly. But it irritated her to think that this information they’d gleaned, at the risk of their lives, however accidental it might have been, was dismissed. Just like that.

  Then she thought about her sister.

  “Maybe the mural is more truthful than you give it credit for,” Bethany said, now clasping her hands together. Yelena’s leg twitched nervously under the table. Ronan scratched at his nose, yellow eyes narrowed in irritation. Sprawled in an armchair at the end of the rectangular table, he looked like a decadent king, minus the crown.

  “Yes?” Darcen was rereading his notes, not really paying attention.

  “You remember that I mentioned about the light warriors? People holding weapons made of light? You know we have an actual person in the palace that is able to conjure up light into a physical form?”

  Merle’s lips puckered in an unpleasant way. “Yes. We are aware of Kiara’s odd affinity with lightweaving.”

  “That’s something else the mural got right then, isn’t it? The moon is blocking the sun. That’s your favorite theory. So you can argue that’s one thing they’re close to. The depiction of light warriors, wielding objects forged from light itself—and you have a living person able to do this. That’s two things explained. And then,” she said, feeling inspired, “you have the night horde outright worshipping this shadow man image. Something that was likely passed down to them. And we do know that light can be stolen.”

  Ronan and Yelena looked at Bethany, startled, as she raised her hands dramatically. Within seconds, every single light source had been extinguished in the library, leaving them in absolute blackness.

  The scholars gasped. Bethany returned the lights as quickly as they had vanished. Merle’s eyes were bulging. Darcen looked ready to explode.

  “I better not get arrested for that,” Bethany muttered.