17
When I was a child and on my way home through the woods a wolf found me. I was not wearing a red hood, and he didn’t want to eat me. But he tore something inside of me - something like a veil perhaps. Because before I met this wolf in the woods I saw the world in a clear way. After meeting him, I saw it in several ways, which were not as clear.
Perhaps this change happened because it was the first moment that I realized I was mortal. The first moment I understood for certain that my life could end. Perhaps. I suppose every child has that moment. It sounds like it should be traumatic, but I don’t really recall that thought, or that moment of shock. I do recall the shock of watching the wolf shift. I recall how much it scared me then. I had never seen that before. I knew of it, of course, but my shifter mates were all too young to shift yet.
What I saw at first was a weapon. A creature whose purpose was to kill; his longer claws, his jaws and fangs. It seemed killing was his only purpose, until I saw his eyes, and how bright they were. Even shifted into a beast he had clear use of his mind, and his mind was sharp and keen.
He could no longer speak the human language, but I understood the shifter sign language, which I was taught even before I could speak myself. All infants now are taught sign in the crib. So, I understood him, and knew he was lucid in this state - which opened up so many worlds for me.
I understood there was a surface to things, and this surface was not wrong, and it was required, but it was never the full story. I understood then, to my core, that the full story could contradict the surface story, and still not be wrong or in error. So, what I understood at that moment, was perspective. After I came home and the wolf went away, it seemed all of my lessons were about perspective.
In the heavens there were red-shifted and blue-shifted stars. Light through a prism was sliced into colors. The eyes had in them a blind spot, caused by where the optic nerves collected, and fed back into the brain. What looked white to me, might look blue to others.
What I saw was not the whole story.
What I felt could be unreal.
My hand was on the back of this wolf’s neck now, and the world was closed off from us by my command. The wind and the sunlight were perfect together, on the balcony of my room.
He kept his eyes on the market area below. "What are they feeling?" I asked him.
Not turning to me he said, "There is some worry, some anger, but the strongest emotion is determination. They have never withstood a serious attack before, however. It is the courage of the naive."
"True, as it is with me," I admitted. I was untested in war, or battle.
"That may be our saving grace," he said, and stood straighter.
Our, he said. Our saving grace. I didn’t want to make more of that word than was meant, but my knees nearly buckled at the whispered chance that he would be with me, through this, and after. That this lone wolf would call my Keep, home.
"How so?" I managed to ask, letting my hand slide gently down his spine, feeling the curves of muscles and edges of bone.
He turned to face me, pulling his spine from my touch. "Because they won’t have deep expectations. This enemy is not attacking like any I have ever witnessed."
"So, it is an attack, then," I said, stepping slightly closer, and looking up to him, baring my neck. "All of these events are related, and part of a single plan with the goal of taking over my region."
"I’ve tried to see it in other ways, but the pieces all fit together too well, and the timing is suspect. Even if it is not an attack, it should be addressed as if it is." He stepped just that much closer and I tipped my head up to get a full view of his face. Beautiful from a far and even more beautiful up close. I don’t know how it always strikes me like it’s the first time I’m laying eyes on him.
"I need you here," I whispered, and allowed my hand to slip around his waist. "It doesn’t take a wolf’s nose to scent what we do to each other. And what we do to each other is greater than a passing thought as you watch my ass swish by. What do we do about this?" I put my hand over his heart.
He looked away and back down to the market. "They don’t know the story, but they know enough to make a fair guess at my age."
He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean he was right either, at least not when it came to how the people would feel about him. "Yes, yes they do. They know it was more than sixty years ago when rumors were spread about you leaving the Kind behind. Most would guess you at near a hundred. Older than any of them will live. Is that by design as well?"
He glanced at me. Impressed? Confused? I wasn’t sure.
"Well," I said, "it’s not like you look old. You look less than thirty by any standard, and if they didn’t know, they would never question us being together or even mating."
I meant ‘mating’ as sex for a child. He knew the term for what it was.
"Except," he continued, "they know now that I am an elder shifter. They know that I have left the ways of the Kind behind me. And these two things being as they are, I may seek to rule this area, either by subjugation or by removing you. Pushing the idea of an inevitable attack would play into that line of thinking. Our story of long ago is perfect for showing you as hopelessly infatuated."
I squinted at him, somewhat offended. "I’m not hopelessly infatuated," I denied.
"I believe you," he said.
"I do," I said, softer, after a pause, "want you."
He seemed to hear far more than what I said, and answered with stoic silence, and his attention turning to the market below. "It’s like a word game," he whispered, mainly to himself. "Like someone is creating a story."
"It sucks," I told him, "whatever story it is."
"It is a story in pieces," he said, softly. "To create an accepted ending."
My head tilted on its own. "You still here or are you far away?"
"Knowing the stories," he said, his focus suddenly sharp, and on me, "I should be far away, so as not to attract the attention of the other queens. I should not have been here this long. There was every reason not to come at all. But I am here and the attack has faltered, for now."
"What are you getting at?"
"The temple," he said, pulling me inside by the wrist.
"The temple!" I shouted, "Why in the Goddess’ name would I go there with you?"
"To create a new story," he told me.
Planting my feet, I jerked him around, "I’m not marrying you!"
His smile was wolfish, and wide and if he had dipped his head any lower, I might have been tempted to bite that lip of his again.
"Sounds like a challenge,” he mused. “But no. There are other reasons to go to the temple, than marriage, right? Unless you really are hellbent on marrying me.” His smile now stretched his whole face tight.
I chuckled, like a school girl. Not like a queen who was in charge.
Fenrir turned and lead me toward the door of my room, that smirk still tight on his face.
“You do know I’m not very close to the temple?”
Fenrir nodded. “Neither was your mother. But there are a lot of things you’ve done that your mother didn’t.”
Fenrir was right about one thing, mother was never one to use the temple, or to thank the goddess publicly. She didn’t scorn the religious and she ensured their presence, but I didn’t grow up with the temple as a part of my life. She would rather see me on the back of a horse with a sword or a rifle than in temple giving thanks.
The women of the Goddess, however, were the main source of new births. They were, without a doubt, important.
The Fall infected many people. Most of the population, in fact. It didn’t turn everyone into zombies. Those it passed over in that regard, however, were often unable to conceive afterward.
Not all who could conceive believed this was a world worth bringing a child into, and therefore refused to give birth. Some took it as far as to abstain from sex altogether.
The term ‘broodmare’ was thrown around. Whore. Cow.
The temple changed this. And so, even those who weren’t wholly religious, knew they needed to respect the temple. Because of the temple, women who could and would conceive weren’t scorned for who they shared their bed with. Neither were they scorned for how many men fathered their children.
Without women, we’d die out. That was a fact not to be disputed. We needed women and we needed women who didn’t fear simple-minded people branding them with such terrible names. And so, as time went on, things changed. Men no longer saw us as only a place to plant their seed. They didn’t hop from bed to bed. They knew that if they wanted their lineage to have a chance in this world, they needed to settle down.
They needed to stay loyal. Loyalty, though, was a rough term to accept at first. Men are jealous creatures. Try to tell a man that his woman is enough to be shared. That she can love another just as much as she loves him. Not an easy task at all. But it happened. And it worked.
There came reverence for those women who could conceive. Us women were worshipped. And…what you worship, eventually rules you. And here we are, on top. Rulers of the world, thanks to the temple. It’s worked out fine, so far. Turns out women are more level-headed than men. We’re not as quick to see red, to push a button, and call for war.
Other than these frivolous historic items, I knew nearly nothing about the Temple and what they did. My involvement was only as my office, and only with the babies. Adoptions, trades, determinations, and funds given to the families as dowries or payments for internships, were mainly handled through the Temple.
“So, what other reason is it you have for wanting to go to the temple, Fenrir?”
He stopped before the door and turned to me. "We just had several people infected and no one died. Isn’t that worth a bit of celebration?"
"Those who were infected were all shifters," I pointed out.
"Were they? Did no one else risk infection?" he asked.
"Well, I did, and the doctors..." I said suspiciously. "You’re not suggesting that a cure is found, are you? You know that’s far from tr..."
"No, not suggesting that at all," he said. "I’m suggesting that the goddess intervened and those who could have been infected were not.”
“Is that it?”
He smiled and in that smile I could tell he was nowhere close to being done. “I’m suggesting a change in the story being conjured up around us, forcing us to make decisions which are not ours, but required anyway. I’m suggesting that we celebrate, and are seen together celebrating, and that I hang around the market for several days while we celebrate. I’m suggesting that instead of remembering that elder shifters are threats near the throne, that luck, joy and bravery are on people’s minds. Change the story. Change how they feel about us being together."
"Did you say several days?" I asked, not commenting on the most important part of his statement, though feeling the beats of my heart leap over at the thought of us being accepted.
"Yes, a full on revelry," he said and smiled. "When was the last time you had one?"
"Um…never?"
"Goddess," he gasped. "About time, don’t you think?"
"You don’t even get drunk," I protested.
"I like to dance though. Dancing with you, that might certainly sweeten the deal."
“Even if you shouldn’t want to?” I gave back. Not because it was the right or the truthful thing to say, but because all other words failed me.
Fenrir’s hand slipped around my waist, and I was pulled into him, moving so smoothly as though I weighed nothing. “Mostly because I shouldn’t want to,” he said, each word slower than the next. I watched the curve of his lips as he spoke. Watched the glint in his eyes as he looked at me. If I were a smarter woman, I would have walked away. If I were a smarter woman, I would have stopped this before it started. Queen stands for a lot of things. But even a queen can be bested by her desires.
My lips met Fenrir’s in one desperate motion. The feel of him against my lips, the feel of his skin against mine, it was almost unbearable. Fire and ice combined. Two like ends of a magnet fighting to connect.
“Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you since I showed up here,” he growled.
I swallowed his words, gliding my tongue over his in a frenzy that I knew wouldn’t last nearly long enough. Lower, I could feel him harden against his pants. Straining to be set free. Against my better judgement, my hand venture lower and I rubbed against him, imagining his cock was free from the material that covered it.
“You have no idea what you do to me, princess,” he whispered. But that wasn’t exactly true. I had an idea, alright. I could feel his excitement, feel his desire bundled into an instrument that would not find its release. I almost felt bad. Both for him and myself.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I grunted out. “Not yet.”
His mouth was only a breath away from mine now. My eyes were squinted closed and so I don’t know what look passed his face in that moment.
“You suggested the temple. Let’s do that. Let’s go there. Change our story. See how open everyone is to the thought of you and me.”
“My head’s gonna spin with jealousy knowing that Karal or Adian will be teasing out the orgasm that I built in you,” he groaned.
“The Wolf of Destruction is a jealous man.” I smiled, freeing myself from his hold.
“When it comes to you, apparently so.”
“Good,” I settled, though no other part of me felt calm. Not with what had almost happened between us. Not with the moisture coating my undergarments.
“If it’s anything to you, I’ll take the edge off myself.”
The smile that flashed across Fenrir’s face was the most mischievous thing I’d ever seen. “Now there’s an image that’ll keep me high for days. The queen with her fingers buried deep in her pussy.” He moved just that much closer, secured his teeth around my earlobe and whispered, “Scrub your hands good when you’re done, princess. My sense of smell is impeccable and if I so as much get a whiff of what you did to yourself, I might just have to taste you myself, no matter where we are.”
The lump that rose in my throat was big enough to choke on.
I turned and walked the most uncomfortable walk out of my life. Away from him. Away from my release. My underwear sticking to my thighs.