The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

Getting the her dressed in a fresh shift, Margaret takes her to the bed before tucking her under the covers. She hovers there for a moment, waiting until Coral’s eyes close before quickly picking up the room; she rights the furniture, picks up the pieces of the broken pitchers, dabs the water from the carpet with a towel. Her body trembles and she tries to quiet her mind with the work, trying to force the images of her friend’s abused body from her memories. Once everything is relatively in order and she regains her composure, she quietly slips from the room.

In the hallway, Quell is on his knees with his head buried in his hands. He looks up at Margaret, his face wet from tears; he struggles to keep his voice level, “I am sorry I yelled at you, maiden.”

Margaret lowers her head, unable to maintain his gaze, “I understand, Prince Quell. I have cleaned her up and she is resting in bed now. She will be out for quite a while.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” he whispers, his voice tormented, crushed.

She can feel herself breaking, her eyes burning with the threat of tears. With a nod, she excuses herself so that she can leave before she adds anymore misery to the situation. As she heads towards the ramp leading down from the second story, Vadim appears beside her, “I shall walk you out, Margaret.”

They descend the ramp in silence before Margaret hands him the vial with the remaining laudanum, “She shouldn’t have any more of this.”

Vadim takes it, looking at it before he stops in his tracks; Margaret halts beside him, meeting his gaze when he speaks, “She had taken several doses of a mushroom she called the hooded harbinger.”

“Well,” she sighs, “I can’t imagine that’s any better.” It isn’t something she is familiar with, her knowledge about medicines substantially less than Coral’s and mostly limited to the common applications of herbs. Margaret knows that Coral wouldn’t have taken anything unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Is she…” Vadim looks at her, “is she still…?”

Margaret can see it in his gaze, the sorrow, the agony, the fear, the love. She closes her eyes, “Does her mate know?”NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

“No,” he whispers, “she had planned on telling him when we returned but she and I were taken and…” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Opening her eyes, she looks at him, “You were with her the entire time?”

“Aye.”

“The ones that took you-they were centaurs?”

When he realizes where she is going with this, he brings his hands to his face and rubs it mournfully, “Aye. Do you think that is why she-why she panicked with Quell and Pelium?”

Margaret purses her lips; if everything weren’t so horrifically turned around, she might have laughed; now that she has finally gotten past her fear of centaurs, Coral has found hers, “I do not know, Prince Vadim. This isn’t my area of expertise-I don’t know of some magic potion to snap her out of it. Did she bleed at any time?”

Vadim briskly shakes his head no.

“Then it is possible she is still…” She closes her eyes, trying to compose herself. She lowers her voice, “If she didn’t bleed, then there is still a chance. She needs to put some weight on and no more medicine-if she needs to calm down I am afraid chamomile, maybe some lavender will be all that she can have. I will discretely ask Janis if there is anything else that could be given to her.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” Vadim says, sincerely.

She nods, “Prince Quell needs to know.”

Vadim drops his gaze, his voice a soft whisper, “She forbade me to speak to Quell about it. She said she would tell him if the foal survived.”

Margaret’s eyes burn when they begin to moisten; she clears her throat, “She will most likely sleep through the night. You tell Prince Quell that when she wakes, if she starts to panic he must leave the room immediately-all of this stress is not good for the foal. When she wakes get some food into her-as much as possible; if she can’t be near centaurs then you must be responsible for her. I will come by after my rounds in the morning and help get a midday meal into her. In a few days, maybe a week,” she pauses, swallowing hard when the tears break free, “we will know if she is still pregnant.” Before he can say anything else, she offers him a small curtsey and swiftly walks away down the ramp towards the entrance.

When the cool late evening air hits her face, the tears are falling freely. She pulls her hood up in hopes to hide them but when she spots Tomir waiting at the bottom of the ramp, she knows that he will see her crying. He waits patiently for her to descend; without a word, he reaches forward and draws her in close, stroking her back while she cries against his chest.

“I do not like the idea of you being alone in your sorrow, maiden. You will come home with me tonight,” he states, not asking but telling.

Margaret nods, not arguing about it. She quickly wipes her tears away and does not object when Tomir wraps his arm around her shoulder and leads her from the castle. The walk in silence until they arrive at Tomir’s home.

Inside, he hangs his cloak up onto the wall before pulling hers off and doing the same. He leads her to the mound of pillows before the fireplace and gently pushes her down onto them. Once Margaret is seated, he kneels and begins to build a fire.

“Will you tell me what happened?” she asks softly. Truthfully, she does not want to know but she wants to help Coral and she will not be able to do so unless she can discover the truth.

Tomir sighs; it is clear he does not want to talk about it. When he looks at Margaret, she stares into his brown eyes and can see the sorrow in them.

“What happened is nothing that should ever be told to a maiden,” he pauses, “but I know you already helped the woman from Centurion who was attacked and you have seen Coral and Vadim.” When the fire catches, he stares into the dancing flames, his voice quiet, “I wish you to be my mate, Margaret-and there should never be secrets between mates. If you truly wish to know what happened, I will tell you.”

Her heart wrenches in her chest-Tomir still wants her and she wants him just as much but now is not a time to think about mating, not when her only friend is lying broken in the castle. She leans forward and takes his hand, tugging on it to move him. Reluctantly, Tomir allows her to pull him towards her. He rolls over on his long horse legs and kicks them slightly to slide to the mound of pillows. Resting against them, he intertwines his fingers in hers.

“Tomir,” she says quietly. Margaret draws in a deep breath and looks up at him, “I know it is a lot to ask that you remain patient with me. I hope that you can understand this but right now I have to do whatever I can to help Coral. She is my only friend.”

A small smile grows on his lips, “I am your friend too.”

Margaret scoots closer, pressing her face into his neck and breathing him in when his arms hold her tight, “No, Tomir-you are more than that. You are my mate.”

He squeezes her close, a long pause before he speaks, “It is a very odd day for me, one filled with such joy and sorrow-joy that I can now call you mine and sorrow for what befell our Princes and Lady Coral. I will wait for you, Margaret, for however long you need-I do not wish our first time together to be overshadowed by anything else.”

She presses her lips to his neck, “Thank you, Tomir.”

He doesn’t let her go while he explains all that he experienced in Centurion-about the offer of the elixir to the King, the frightened victims, the mating of a consenting couple and the disappearance of Vadim and Coral. He tells her that he was with Quell for nine days looking and how he saw the Prince’s steady loss of calm, how he started to become almost as vicious and violent as the Centurions themselves. He tells her of arriving back at the castle to discover Vadim and Coral had gotten free-and how Rainer lost his temper upon discovering that it was Callen who was responsible for stealing and raping women. Tomir tells her of how Vadim killed the Centurion Prince and what turmoil it sparked-as Callen was the only son of Yulnar, the only remaining heir of the throne is Callen’s son, a foal of only five years.

“King Rainer remained in Centurion?” Margaret asks.

“Yes,” Tomir replies, “I am not sure if he will kill King Yulnar or not. He almost did before Quell pulled him free.”

Margaret thinks about it, still slightly confused, “The elixir-why is it so important?”

Tomir frowns, glancing down at her before looking away, “I am sure you realize that a centaur is a lot larger than a man. Though we learn at a young age how to please a woman so as to make mating more enjoyable, it is still painful for a female human to take a centaur even once, let alone enough times to ensure that her garden is sown. I have heard from others that the elixir prepares a human woman, allowing her body to open wide enough to take a mate without tearing. Before the elixir, even with a centaur being gentle it would take a woman a month or more to heal-even then, it doesn’t mean that she would want to rush into getting mated again but with the elixir, there is no healing period needed,” he almost frowns slightly, “I have heard it from a few centaurs that their mates can take them repeatedly, even in the same night.”

Margaret blushes fiercely at the conversation but comes up with her own conclusion, “So since Centurion doesn’t have many women to begin with and a very low birth rate, something like that would help them?”