The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

At the far end of the table, Franklin sits beside Sari, Lucas with them as well. The three of them are discussing the traditions of Derven.

But the most surprising is Irving and Rick; the two are behaving more amiably than she ever imagined possible. Rick is quietly filling in Irving on the current politics between the nations, Irving casually asking questions as they arise. From time to time, Mora sees Rick’s eyes flickering towards her though she makes it a point to avoid catching his gaze. She is still too confused about her sudden pull to Irving, about Rick’s quick to anger attitude to know what the right choice is. For once her mind and her heart are in agreement-both men have virtues, both men have faults. And, at the moment, both men make her knees weak.

After they finish eating, they file into the library for a quick nightcap. With a glass of wine in her hand, Mora sits on the window ledge that overlooks the orchard, remembering her conversation with her father. It was the last time they were alone before he died. Her heart is heavy; though he kept many things from her, she still loved him deeply and she misses him dearly.

“Namora?” Irving’s soft voice draws her out of her thoughts. When she turns her head, she discovers that he is standing right next to Rick, both men looking at her expectantly. “Can we have a moment?”

She nods briefly, her eyes turning to Rick when he speaks, “Irving and I have been talking about the tensions between the countries; it has become clear that you believe in the possibility of Sceadu and Geofen forming an alliance.”

Looking at Irving for a moment, she stiffens; though her heart still yearns for Rick, the way he spoke when they spent the night together, his actions and response towards Irving has made her doubt where his loyalty lies. Aside from her outburst, she wouldn’t have dared speak ill of Sheyenne to him; she words it as carefully as she can, “Both Wallace and Sheyenne expressed a nervousness upon discovering that Derven was capable of fighting for itself.”

His piercing gaze doesn’t leave hers, “I would say that’s an understatement. Even if I didn’t know my mother before, after seeing the way she manipulated both you and I it would be obvious that she craves power and will do whatever is necessary to obtain it. The only thing that saved you was the secrecy of Derven; I imagine if she realized how formidable you truly are, she would have done whatever she could to see you removed from the equation. I realize now, when I expressed my apathy towards her political games to you, how you took that as meaning I didn’t care what happened to our lands. I care deeply for many things, Mora. I would like Sceadu to thrive once more and I will earnestly admit that it isn’t possible while my mother holds the crown. She and Wallace are from a different era, just like Irron and your father; they will do what they need to in order to assure their rule.”

Mora studies his face; she sees the earnestness behind his confession, the sorrow in his eyes that his poor choices had damaged their relationship. Her heart aches and yearns to be back in his embrace, though her mind still has its reservations, “Do you think Wallace and Sheyenne pose a threat to Derven?”

“To Derven and to you, Mora. I wouldn’t put anything past my mother, though she’d be a fool to send an assassin after you.”

“And what of Alumenia?”

Rick glances to Irving, “I will honestly admit that I am still unnerved at how much Irving looks like Irron. There is still a lot left that he needs to learn but having him take over the throne is about the best option there is. And,” he turns back to her, “I have the utmost confidence in you, Mora. If this is what you wish, I will support you in the matter.”

She nods slightly, “Prince Varickan, would you give Irving and I a moment?”

Rick’s eyes drop immediately, sensing her caution of him still, “Of course, Queen Namora.” He offers a slight bow before retreating to join one of the other groups.

Irving watches him go before he turns back to her, casually sitting on the window sill, “Perhaps I have overstep my bounds, Namora.”

Drawing in a deep breath, she replies, “Not at all, Irving. You were taking the initiative like a King would and that is commendable.”

“You do not trust him, still? Prince Varickan? Is it because of his mother?” He asks her outright.

“I… I don’t know, honestly, it isn’t that I don’t trust Rick, I am just wary of his behavior. In a way he still has to learn what it is like to become a King, just like you; I just fear that his desire to fill that position isn’t what it should be.”

“He admitted to me what he said to you. It sounded like he spoke and acted before he thought about it.”

“I would agree with that statement,” she mumbles before sipping her wine, “Why the sudden interest in Rick?”

“Know thy enemy,” Irving says, before shaking his head at her surprised look, “I’m not saying I have any enemies… yet. But I am not naive, I realize that with the Alumenian crown comes a whole caravan of complications. While you and I might be on the same page and can ensure peace between our nations, I am afraid the same cannot be said about Sceadu and Geofen. And if Queen Sheyenne is as both you and Rick say, then I imagine she won’t give up her thirst for power so easily after I become King.”

Mora suddenly feels guilty that she thrust all of this upon Irving, “If Rick thinks that it is a possibility for Sheyenne to send an assassin after me, then no doubt your life will be at risk.”

“Then we better train more tomorrow afternoon,” Irving says, sipping back his brandy, “I’d be appreciative for any Derven you’d be able to spare as a guard for me while in Geofen and afterwards.”

She smiles slightly, “Well, I will be with you in Geofen and Laren will remain at your side for a while; I dare say that we are the best guard you could hope for. None the less, I will have Franklin recruit some men for you.”

Irving turns to her, his eyes wandering over her face, lingering for a moment on her lips before he speaks, “I wouldn’t be opposed to you by my side after Geofen, Namora.” When she looks away, he continues, “I realize that I’m being forward, I just want to make my sentiments clear to you now.”

“You have, Irving,” she says softly, her eyes flickering over to Rick.

“If you tell me you have no interest in me in that way, I will never speak of it again,” he adds, with a somewhat dejected tone in his voice.

She turns to him, hesitating, “It isn’t that I don’t, Irving, it is just… not that simple.”

When he looks at her again, she sees the look in his eyes that Rick gives her, the yearning, the adoration, the need to be with her and it makes her heart ache.

SOVEREIGN

None of them are able to stifle their yawns and soon Mora rises and heads for the door; everyone follows her without question as they too are all ready for a full night’s sleep. In the hallway, Mora informs Irving of the large book on Alumenian policy that Laren left him, “I had it sent to your room. I am sure it is just what you need in order to ensure that you fall asleep quickly and get a good night’s rest.”

He smiles brilliantly at her, “I will give it my full attention, Namora.” With little regard to those still around them, he takes her hand and gently kisses the back of it, “Good night, my Queen.” With a quaint bow he departs ways.

Mora ignores the looks she gets, instead taking Amyee’s arm in hers as they lead the procession down the hall. While the others break off towards their rooms, Rick hesitates in front of them; it is clear, he wishes to speak to Mora alone but as she has ensured her friend’s presence, he is unable to.

Raising both hands, he offers her the jar of healing salve, “In case you still have injuries that are bothering you, my lady.” His tone is just as sad as his eyes, his regret and yearning for her clear.

She takes the salve, nodding her head-her heart aches at his pain, though she is still uncertain about him, about them, about everything, “Thank you, Prince Varickan. Good night.”

“Good night, Queen Namora,” he says longingly before parting ways.

Amyee has the courtesy to wait until they are in her room before she speaks to Mora, “Are you ever going to tell me what is going on between you and the Prince?”

Mora sighs, unlacing the ties at the back of her dress so she can shed it and relax in her shift. Amyee does the same, pulling a brush out of her bag; she sits on the edge of the bed and combs through her hair while Mora speaks, divulging every detail of the time since she first left for Alumenia, though she leaves out anything regarding the immortals or the unknown mysteries left by her mother.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Amyee silently listens over the next few hours, her attention never wavering. When Mora finally finishes, her friend draws in a deep breath, “That is… an impossible choice. While Prince Varickan was the first to capture your heart, there is so much more that you don’t know about him. And Irving, he is so kind, so thoughtful. I am sorry, Mora. What are you going to do?”

Mora rubs her face, joining Amyee in bed as the two lie back and stare at the velvet folds above them, “I haven’t the slightest clue.”

It isn’t much longer before both women start to nod off, Amyee the first to succumb to slumber. While Mora feels the pull, she forces herself up and out of the bed. Carefully grabbing her dress and the jar of salve, she locates the hidden panel and navigates back to her room in the darkness of the small hallways.

Once there, she takes the time to rub the salve into her ribs and her hand, sighing as the cooling concoction offers her relief of her physical pain. Though she is tired, she feels suffocated by her bed chambers, discovering the antechamber does nothing more than draw her mind to the mysteries left behind by her mother. Sighing in exasperation, she pulls on a deep red robe, securing the belt around her waist before slipping her boots back on and escaping the castle through the hidden passages.

Greystar snorts in excitement upon seeing her, he immediately presses his weight against the stall door, trying to get out. She gently tugs on his ear to calm the beast before leading him from the stable and mounting him bareback, not bothering with a bridle or even giving the horse directions. He quietly trots through the landscape to the lone tree in the meadow, halting just beneath its barren branches. As soon as Mora dismounts, the horse drops down onto his knees before settling back; she eases herself down to the earth and tucks in against his side, feeling the warmth of him permeate into her. Breathing the fresh, crisp air, her gaze turns upwards to the waning moon, the dark night sky offering her comfort. Slowly, her body relaxes and she finds the sleep that evaded her.