The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

Walking with the brothers, they make their way slowly out of the castle. Coral is surprised to see Margaret speaking to Tomir at the base of the ramp just outside; she does not look very happy about their conversation. As the three approach, she curtseys and looks up but Coral averts her gaze-she does not have the luxury to think of herself in at a time like this and no doubt Margaret is checking up on her to see if she told Quell anything about her pregnancy. She forces the thought to the back of her mind, thankful to have the love of her mate for now. His strong hands circle her waist and he lifts her up to her horse, her knee bent over the withers on the sidesaddle.

As they get ready to leave, Coral sees Margaret running towards Tomir and is just as surprised as everyone else when she jumps into his arms and kisses him passionately. She rests her forehead against his, speaking softly before reluctantly leaving his grasp and walking back towards town. Tomir stands still, cherishing the moment as he watches her leave.

When the party slowly breaks away from the castle ramps, Quell, Vadim and Reid in the front, followed by Coral next to Marcus and Tomir, Junta and two other guards Nevren and Letin in the back. Tomir doesn’t meet her gaze, but simply says to Coral, “Perhaps… centaurs can change as well.”

…

They do not stop for lunch, instead eating while walking or atop their horses. The afternoon air is brisk, a light cool breeze rustling through the dying grass just off of the well worn road. The span between the two countries, just beyond Severton, is uninhabited by either race, instead left to be claimed by the wild. As the terrain slowly turns from open meadows and sparse woods to rocky, loamy rolling hills, Coral projects her voice forward to her mate, “Centurion is on the sea, is it not?”

Turning his head back to her, he smiles and slows his pace, swapping places with Marcus before answering, “Aye. You have been to the western sea, yes?”

Eyeing him curiously, she replies, “No, I haven’t seen the sea.”

“Nor have I,” Vadim confesses, drawing her attention. “Surprisingly, my younger brothers are much more well traveled than I am. I have never left Centuarna before. I think father questioned my safety.” There is a slight frown on his face.

“Perhaps,” Quell says. Coral thinks that there is something left unspoken about this odd exchange between the brothers, but Quell interjects into his thoughts, “I assumed, my mate, that you had been to the western sea because of your looks.” He offers a smile, “And your name.”

Shocked, she fumbles with her words, “I-I don’t understand? You have met others that look like me? My-my family?”

He nods slowly, “There is a village by the western sea that we went to during the Atonement. Red hair such as yours is quite common there-it was a surprise to find a ginger lass in the midland. And your last name, Blackthorn-there are a few who carry that name as well. It would seem that they must be related to your father.”

The surprise hits her with force-she always assumed that she didn’t have any other family. Coral knew her father wasn’t from the town she grew up in but for whatever reason believed that he was simply a lone traveler who fell in love with her mom. The thought that she could have uncles or aunts, or anyone else related to her by blood sends her mind rolling.

The road winds around a large hill, dropping slightly downward into a flat clearing; much like Centuarna, the town is nestled against the protection of the southern mountain, the castle looks as though it is carved right into the side of it. Just as vast as the one she calls home, it is by far older, its architecture composed of sharp lines and stone peaked by metal points, lending it a very intimidating presence. She takes care to keep her head down as they make their way into the inhabited area leading towards the castle of Centurion.

There is no bustling town on the road leading to it, but rather haphazard, almost dilapidated homes built from mud and timber, thatched roofs an aged grey, making them look like the life has bled out from everywhere. Wary eyes, both centaur and man, watch them as they walk past and a quietness falls over the market square that lies just below the castle ramps.

Two Centurion guards wait for them there; they more aptly fit the description of the creatures she was told to fear as a child. Their shaggy fur does little to cover the large muscles beneath them, their skinned bodies bare, glistening with a murky mixture of sweat and dirt, unclothed chests crossed with leather harnesses to carry their weapons. Unlike the first time she saw Rainer, whose harness was finely tooled, almost delicate and later worn over his shirt, these are made from thick leather straps, crossing over the chest, the x adorned with a metal medallion bearing the crest of Centurion-a sword and an ax crossed on a shield. The men themselves have a wild look in their eyes, disheveled dark hair and unkempt beards, though they have the countenance about them to bow towards the Princes.

When they halt before the guards, Vadim and Marcus dismount; Coral follows suit, handing the reins of her horse to Marcus so that she can trail behind Quell with her head down and her hands clasped before her. Her heart beats fast, the nervous fear seeping into her bones as she realizes that no warning from Rainer could have prepared her for the truth of this place.

The guards lead the royal party through the front doors, leaving them as the King approaches.

“Quell, my nephew, it is so good to see you again,” Yulnar’s loud voice portrays a sincerity, a tone reminiscent of Kiera.

Coral cannot make out his face but sees his white body, shadowed in places with gray hair. Another centaur stands at his side; she is slightly unnerved that his shaggy, thick coat is a light, palomino color, similar to her mate.

Yulnar clasps Quell’s hand, squeezing his shoulder with the other. As he looks over to Vadim, a smile remains on his face, “And you must be Vadim-you very much resemble your father. It is a pleasure to finally meet my oldest nephew.” The gesture is repeated with him.

Quell’s soft, yet strong voice speaks next, “The pleasure is ours, Uncle,” he clasps hands with the centaur standing at his side, “As it is to see you again, Callen.”

His voice is quiet, lower than Quell’s, but crystal clear, “It has been too long, Quell,” he moves to Vadim, “And I am saddened that we had to meet under these circumstances, cousin.” As the shaggy palomino shifts and his eyes land on Coral, the tone of his voice sends a chill down her spine, “And who might this beautiful creature be?”

Quell steps back to stand next to her, “This is my mate, Lady Coral Blackthorn. She is a healer and our father thought it wise for her to come with, so that she may help your people.”

Keeping her eyes down, Coral curtseys.

“Please, Lady Coral, if you are my cousin’s mate, you are my kin. There is no need for such formalities,” a hand extends out to her as she rises.

Hesitantly, she glances at Quell; he nods his head, though she can tell that he is not happy. Coral slowly reaches out and places her hand into Callen’s. He bows into her view, placing a lingering kiss on her flesh. His light brown hair hangs free, though it has been neatly brushed. Clean shaven, smooth skin gives her the impression that he is close to Vadim’s age, though the angle of his nose gives him a very harsh look. When he glances up to catch her gaze, she is unnerved to see sharp, blue eyes darkly appraising her, discovering that he bears this small resemblance to Quell and his mother.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Quickly, she looks away, taking her hand back, her heart pounding as an eerie feeling washes over her.

“Come, we have a meal waiting for you, I am sure you are all hungry after your journey,” Yulnar says.

They dine in a large hall, though the table is centered in it and there are not many more additions to the group. Yulnar stands at the head of the table, his son to his right and Quell to the left. Somewhat relived, Coral is sat in a tall chair between her mate and Vadim, across from her a woman with dark brown hair and eyes sits beside Callen; the woman, Coral and Vadim are the only humans at the table but several other centaurs join them including Reid, Junta and Tomir.

Though she sits with her perfect posture, she keeps her eyes no higher than the middle of the table, able to see a lot from her periphery. The woman sitting before her is dressed well, moves with the grace of wealth but something in her eyes and in the coldness of her smile portrays a broken spirit, leading Coral to believe that she is Callen’s mate.

Coral keeps quiet, eating slowly, making it appear as if she is disinterested in the conversation yet she takes it all in. Her ears perk up when she hears a question directed to Quell.

“Tell us, cousin, how you found your mate.” Callen asks, “My father says that women in your lands have a choice?” There are a few chuckles from the other Centurions down the table.

“King Rainer obtained her through the Atonement this year. I made my wishes known to her, though I was amiss to discover I had some competition for her affections. In the end, however, she chose me as her mate,” his voice is soft.

“Of course she would pick a Prince over another centaur,” Callen’s voice comes out amused.

“My competition wasn’t with another centaur, but a man. And also a Prince.”

The table starts to quiet down, their attention drawn to the newcomers. Coral can feel her ears begin to burn as eyes are drawn between her, Quell, and Vadim.

Vadim’s voice pulls the attention away from her and to him, “It is true, I made an effort,” his tone is light and playful, doing well to cover up his true feelings for Coral, “but in the end, well, it was not me she wanted.”

The Centurions shift somewhat surprised, curious at the union. Yulnar’s voice forces Coral to look at him, “It is hard to imagine a woman would choose a life with a centaur of her own free will.”