Ronan: Night Wolves

by Lisa Daniels

  “Kissing in three, two, one…” He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. That first contact came awkwardly, clumsily. Nothing like what Anya had imagined, where she thought stars might burst around them and the heavens then fell – the things they only told you in the best stories when love flourished and didn’t have to worry about the grind of everyday life. Of being crushed to the point where nothing remained.

  Few people in the plantations became whole families, so they had to rely on the run of the community, and elected leaders within that community. Feeling strong bonds of love was considered dangerous, but people made those connections anyway. Some deep, primal part of them craved closeness. Craved affection.

  A kiss from Kalgrin at first felt disappointing, likely because she didn’t know how to kiss. She half expected fiery explosions and melting feelings in her, but really, it was just the unusual, smooth texture of the lips and the heat of their breaths that confused Anya. Did she keep breathing? Did she hold her breath until she couldn’t anymore? Did she keep her eyes open or closed?

  Open seemed rather awkward. Closed helped heighten the sense of the moment. Kalgrin worked at kissing with her, being patient with her lips, and it got to a point where the pressure they placed and the movements they conducted became natural and pleasant.

  Sure, the countdown Kalgrin did might have been strange, but then again, the whole thing could be construed as strange. What mattered was the rapid beating of her heart, and the gentle way he touched her, and the patient affection he showed. Being embraced in such a way embarrassed and pleased her at the same time, tinged with a hint of sadness. She should have known something like this before. Not spent eighteen years of her existence barely making it above water.

  Sometimes she wondered if she was doing the wrong thing when it came to the touches, the kisses. Those thoughts cleared away when she lost herself in the moment. They slowly led one another to bed, taking the time to stop, to kiss, to caress.

  The treatment made Anya want to cry – she couldn’t remember the last time someone held her with so much love. Not wanting to start blubbering her eyes out, she dove deeper into the kiss, into ruffling his floppy curls, into sharing herself with him. Just to stay in the moment, and to remember that Kalgrin wanted this as much as her. One by one they peeled off one another’s clothes, until both were naked – her skin had the hardened tan of working on the fields, and his was as pale as snow.

  What a wondrous thing.

  He stood back to admire her body, all the way from her freckled face to her soft, rounded breasts, calloused hands and strong thighs. She admired his body, too, the sculpted build, with broad, toned shoulders, not bulging with muscles but hinting at the power that lay within. He had a flat, hairless chest with the hint of abs showing – not quite a muscular demigod, but certainly an arousing sight to behold. Everything was just right.

  He reached for her hand and kissed the rough underside, not caring if her skin was hard and lacking in softness. She had other soft parts to make up for it. She also couldn’t help but notice his growing erection, from the way it uncurled from small to big. She liked the way he always asked her if it was okay, though it eventually reached a point where she simply whispered into his ear, “Just shut up and fuck me.”

  That worked pretty well. He lowered her down onto the mattress, those gray eyes dark and his body quivering in excitement. Anya’s cheeks flushed, her whole body raised up its temperature, making it feel as if she were about to burn up. Nothing else mattered at this moment except him.

  He kissed her neck, warm air wafting onto her skin. He braced his arms on either side of her, sliding into position between her legs. His erection pressed against her stomach in a promise. A shivering, tantalizing promise. Would it hurt? Would it be pleasant? Would she let out a sigh from her lips and arch into him, or stiffen in pain?

  He crawled backwards slightly, and rested his length upon her entrance.

  Heart beating in a frenzy, Anya let out a whimper as he moved inside her for the first time, the first time for anyone in her life. She knew something of masturbation and got urges like anyone else – she just didn’t want to risk having children in such an impoverished, cruel place. Even though the others didn’t care, and just went for it, Anya restrained herself.

  But here, it didn’t concern her. Not with someone who showered her with affection, who helped raise her life above the mud it had dwelled in, who helped save her family, and for some reason, loved the soul inside her. Not when she didn’t have to worry about her child growing up on a miserable plantation, knowing nothing but the slash of a whip upon their back, and the sad, gibbering voices of the humans around them. Or the musk of dark that followed people, like an evil that had attached itself to their souls.

  People used to think she deserved punishment for being so outspoken.

  Now, allowed to be who she was, she felt nothing but happiness and gratefulness for her new position. She whispered her love in his ear, perhaps encouraged by the feel of him so close to her. Maybe the feeling would vanish afterwards, when the tension wasn’t knotting up in her stomach, getting ready to spread out in a warm, delicious wave of bliss.

  He sped up his thrusts, continued snatching kisses from her lips, breathing harsh, his heart thundering at the same pace as hers.

  When he came, her heart soared at his pleasure and sounds, and she moaned as well. She noticed the drop in pressure inside her, and would have been perfectly happy leaving things like this. Then he reached down with his fingers and fumbled around her slit, until he hit the right spot. The electricity bolted through her like a thunderstorm, the feeling came hard and intense, and within moments, she found herself shuddering and moaning her way into orgasm.

  “Didn’t want to keep all the glory to myself,” he whispered in her ear, before kissing it, and allowing themselves to arrange into a comfortable embrace.

  Exhausted with happiness – who knew such a thing could wear you out? – Anya fell into a deep sleep, breathing in Kalgrin’s musky scent, secure in the wrap of his arms around her.

  Security. What a strange thing to feel, and to know you had it. Her family were tucked away safely in that fort town which she didn’t remember the name of. She flew the skies with Kalgrin, spoke to the broken, the people who had forgotten what hoped looked like, who had been reduced to animals, simply living for themselves and their own survival, not caring about anyone else. Anything else.

  It needed a special kind of work to coax these people out of their shells. Words didn’t work. Not really. Attitude did. Showing them the reality of their new world did. And giving them the chance to step out on their own.

  She couldn’t blame them in the end. Depression settled like a heavy blanket, smothering those it touched. Clouds followed them, brewing their storms. And their night terrors filled dark silences. They lived, but not really. And Anya had tried to live, but she was stagnating, withered away by the years. She would have died in that place.

  She woke up once in the night, sweat coating her face. A half-remembered nightmare, of being chased, the wyrm’s feet pounding the earth beneath her as she ran. There had been mud upon her arms and legs, but it dried up, caking her, making it harder to move forward. Maybe if she could fly, hop up into the air…

  But those wyrms would never stop. The sound of their feet somehow always clattered in the distance. The vibration of each footfall carried the taste of hate.

  Kalgrin slumbered like a babe at her side, his arms sprawled out, taking space under the pillows. Half the bed covers wrapped itself around his lower half, leaving his chest exposed, which rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm.

  Anya watched this for a while, relaxing in the calm of Kalgrin’s deep sleep. Reminding herself that somehow, this drake had become hers. She didn’t want to risk waking him up, so she left him untouched.

  It made her heart ache to see how beautiful he was, even cast in shadows. Sometimes in the dark, people’s faces took on frightening visages. She didn�
��t know why, just that the dark increased her level of fear. No fear lingered here. Smiling, she soon fell asleep again.

  Waking up to an empty bed, Anya stretched out languorously, the sheets slipping over her bare skin. She didn’t regret a moment of her choice. She didn’t regret staying with Kalgrin, with sharing her heart and soul with him, or falling in love with him.

  Yes. It was love. Such a tiny word. Such a powerful feeling.

  Her family existed in a better place. But many more families didn’t. And as long as she stayed by Kalgrin’s side, she actively helped contribute to the cause he followed. It became her cause, her calling. And she fell that little bit more in love.

  Kalgrin smiled at her when she walked into his kitchen. The smell of cooking food lured her, and she lifted her nose to sniff. Eggs and toast and sausages. Simple but filling. And exotic, compared to the slops she tasted at the plantation.

  “A good, hearty breakfast is the best way to start the day,” Kalgrin declared. “Though I usually prefer honeyed porridge. I work better in my day when I have a full stomach.”

  Anya agreed. She skipped meals in the past, but if you headed off to the wheat fields without food, you found yourself drained so fast that you could barely stay upright.

  “I could get very, very used to this. Having you cook for me in the mornings.”

  “You can do the same for me. When I go over to your house.” He winked at her, before flipping the egg over in the little pan over the hearth. The sausages were already cooked. The heat from the hearth radiated through the room, warming up the cool space. Anya stepped outside for a moment, inhaling the cool air, before she noticed that there were those little envelopes on the ground. The ones with the letters that she couldn’t read.

  Taking one last glance out into the crisp late morning, taking in the bustle of people going about their business and the calls of stall owners trying to attract people to their wares, Anya ducked back inside, clutching the letters.

  “Kal. Some letters for you.” The messy-haired drake took them from her and inspected them.

  “Huh. One’s for you. From… your mother, I believe.”

  “Oh!” Right. She hadn’t passed on the new home to her mother yet. Kendra still thought her daughter lived here, so of course the letters would come to Kal. “I can’t read it.”

  “I know. I’ll do it for you, unless you want to get a scribe?”

  Anya shook her head. She wanted Kalgrin to know the contents of the letter as well. The drake opened the envelope and examined the squiggles all along the page.

  “Actually, let me finish the cooking. We don’t want it to get cold, do we?”

  He cooked the last of the eggs and spilled them over buttered toast. Anya sat at his little table, grabbed a fork and knife, and tucked into her delicious breakfast. The smell of the food lingered in an appetizing way, saturating the air around them. Kalgrin wanted to finish eating first before starting on the letter, and he wolfed down the food fast.

  “Wow. You don’t waste time when it comes to food, do you?”

  He let out a belch, which made Anya blink, half in amusement, half in disgust.

  “Sorry. My digestive system can be a bit odd at times. Okay.” He cleaned his hands and dried them off, before taking the letter and settling back into the seat. “Dearest daughter. I hope everything’s well with you, and you’ve gotten around to a relationship with Kalgrin at last. I know you were stalling, but I’m telling you, you’ll be hard pressed to find better.”

  Kalgrin paused. “Huh. Did she try to foist you off on me?”

  “Yes,” Anya admitted. “But I didn’t want to think of her as being right that we were attracted to one another. She’d likely chase me to the ends of the world until I got into a relationship with someone respectable. She always had hopes I’d break the cycle.”

  “Well,” Kalgrin said, grinning, “you might just have done that, haven’t you?” Then he frowned. “Though should I be concerned that your mother wanted to shove us together?”

  “Probably not. Just watch out for the grandchildren queries.”

  Kalgrin chuckled before reading more of the letter.

  “I named all the children proper. Your two sisters are now Jeyna and Daisy, and the two little ones are Bodrin and Kallen. Named in honor of the wonderful drake who saved us, of course.”

  Kalgrin’s expression grew soft at the mention of a child being named after him. Meanwhile, Anya felt little stabs of irritation because her mother didn’t say which sibling was which. The rest of the letter mainly focused on when Anya was going to come and visit, or when Kendra might be able to visit her. She wanted to know all about everything, since although the fort town was a nice enough place, there weren’t a lot of humans there, and she still struggled at times to snap out of what the plantations had done to her.

  Five children, and she didn’t want to lose a single one.

  That was Kendra for you. Yet, for some reason, Kendra had risked all her family to get Anya away. She wanted to include that question in the next letter.

  “I’ve never had people praise me like this,” Kalgrin said, still wearing that soft expression. He passed the finished letter reverently to Anya. “Don’t tell anyone, but I feel like crying big, manly tears.”

  “Manly?” Now it was Anya’s turn to raise an eyebrow. She plucked at her food, finishing off the rest of the egg.

  “Of course. If I plan to keep you around, you’d rather have someone reliable to support you, right?”

  For some reason, this statement seemed to darken the mood. Anya wondered why her emotions had sunk. Perhaps it came because of her need for independence, instead of being constantly supported. She let it go, however. He meant well.

  And he’d found that place in her heart. They spent the morning together, just talking, considering her mother. Kalgrin wanted to understand better why the children hadn’t been named until now. He never asked their names when he’d saved them. Just Kendra. Anya explained, and Kalgrin reacted as expected – saddened by the reality of the serf’s situation.

  Back in her house, Anya aimed for another quick rest.

  She planned to go with him next week to one of the plantation areas. She wanted to see if all plantations were the same, or if some had more or less cruelty than hers.

  “It’s dangerous,” Kalgrin had told her when she had first asked, “but I can see you’ve got that determined glint in your eyes. I’ll say this: If you want to get involved with infiltrating these areas, you’ll need more training. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go to those places without some kind of basic self-defense.”

  “So, teach me,” was her response.

  “With pleasure,” he replied, bending to kiss her hand. He looked so proud in that moment, standing by her side. Admiring the spirit inside her body. Allowed to be a part of her life, by a choice of her own making.

  She knew full well the path she now chose wouldn’t be easy. She knew Kalgrin, despite his jovial manner, his casual way of dipping himself into dangerous situations, might die any day. One mistake when he crept into an isolated lordling’s home, and she’d no longer have a lover returning home. But, well, if a bloody dragon wanted to risk his life for humans, then surely, she could do the same in return. And support him in any way possible.

  A few of the former plantation slaves had chosen to settle in Tarn, enjoying the simple, vibrant life of a small town where people ended up sticking to one another like glue. Others had run away into the wilderness, not being able to handle the truth. Likely they would have died or been recaptured.

  Something, Anya decided, is very wrong with everything. If what Kalgrin said was true, if humans once used magic to rule the world, then lost it… had the wyrms originally started enslaving humans out of revenge? And did they never let go of that hate, even though the humans born centuries later no longer remembered what it was they did?

  She really didn’t like that the wyrms might have a valid justification for what they did. No. It�
�s not valid. It’s never valid to treat people like they don’t deserve to live.

  But it did feel like fighting a difficult, uphill battle. One where she wasn’t sure if humans could ever reach the top.

  He said humans had magic, though. And it might be possible that many under our noses can use it, but never reveal it. She decided that for Kalgrin, she’d pay attention to the serfs and slaves they helped, and see if any of them had the spark of magic.

  She scheduled a letter to send to her mother. Just her general thoughts and feelings, and confirming that she did get together with Kal, and worked closely with him on a number of projects. The scribe had glanced at her a few times, a little surprised to hear she came from a plantation, but otherwise kept impartial to the matter. Likely she heard all sorts of interesting things in her effort to transcribe speech.

  Anya wandered through the little town of Tarn afterwards, thinking hard on where she wanted to aim her life. Perhaps she could go to the northlands in time, without fear of the wyrms. Maybe not to a fort town – she suspected life in those to be uniform, with everyone having their set routines and cautions in place.

  She settled at the inn once more and saw Seon, strangely morose, taking her time cleaning out the insides of an already glistening jar.

  “What’s wrong, Seon?” Anya ventured over to the bar counter, and sat with her arms folded as Seon continued polishing the glass.

  “Oh, nothing.” She gave a wry smile when Anya appeared less than impressed with her answer. “Okay. It’s something. I’m just a little worried because I’ve been seeing more of a wyrm presence in the area lately.”

  “Really?” Anya had only seen a few in the whole time living here.

  “Yes. You just don’t get wyrms here, you know? But for some reason, they’re insisting on regular patrols through the streets. Drakes and humans might hiss at them, but we can’t legally stop the idea of community protection from the city. But it seems like they’re looking for something.”