Estrella
Mother kisses me on the cheek in an empty courtyard. Even the servants are gone, having carried all the remainder of the cleaning inside.
"You did wonderfully," she says. "As I knew you would. Now, sleep, and I will see you in the morning."
She leaves. I am truly alone. That hurts again, like it didn't scant hours ago. Before I saw Anwen in the crowd. Before he cornered me during the party and begged one last chance. I suck in a breath. The sound echoes around the courtyard.
Father told me not to lower myself for him. He betrayed me, dragged my name through the dirt, participated in the murder of my father.
And he came to me, without pulling the eyes of the room, and promised I'd misunderstood. A false lead, he called it. He's so sure King Kieran is not involved, but he hasn't tried to explain the note even once.
I've spent the last hours certain that, when this moment came, I would march upstairs and sleep peacefully, dreaming of him shivering in the cold desert night. But my feet turn toward the archway that leads out of the palace, out of the city.
I owe myself the chance to know if I truly have to spend my life alone.
I shed my coronation gown, fold it, and shift. North of the city, 2:00 in the morning. The stars in the bright, clear sky lead my way as I race to the point he described. Before long, I can smell him on the wind. It's so much more obvious here, where his scent doesn't blend at all. I could find him with no instructions at all.
When I pad up to him, he's in wolf form. A towering white wolf, outlined in the moonlight. A heartbeat passes between us. Will he shift, begin talking again? I don't know if I have room for more speeches. I've heard so many empty words today.
He huffs a great sigh and turns away. My wolf howls in betrayal and pain. Then, Anwen takes off running.
Memories of our first night together flood back, ones I'd forgotten. He chased me to the tent. Nessa said the white wolves were fastest in Dun's Crossing. Perhaps this is his way of spending time together without words.
Without words is all I want.
I race after him. Sand sprays up from his paw pads. He can't seem to find his footing on the foreign terrain. I leap ahead. These dunes are as dear to me as my family. Running across them is as simple as breathing. My muscles soothe, and my breathing steadies.
And then Anwen whips past me, the sand no longer slowing him. I throw back my head and howl. The bastard fell behind to watch me, to see how I'm navigating. He holds his paws at just the right angle and doesn't hesitate any longer.
Something bubbles in my veins. I prod at it, expecting fury or sadness or any of the emotions that have been my constant companions these last few weeks. To my surprise, I discover nothing more than the simple rush of competition. These are my dunes. If he wants a race, he has it.
I bite my howl over, duck low, and start moving. He may have speed, but I know the terrain. When he disappears over the top of a dune, I dodge to the side and circle around a particularly deep valley, the sort that slows even me. My heart pounds. My blood races. I veer around so he can see me at the mouth of the valley and-
He blazes toward me, somehow already nearly escaped. That's simply unacceptable. I lunge and catch his back leg between my teeth. He yelps in surprise, and I release him as he turns to look at me. Perfect timing. I burst ahead.
Mere moments later, Anwen catches up again, and this time, he nips one of my back legs before releasing with a short, sharp bark. The closest we can come to laughing in this form.
The world slows around me for a moment. When was the last time I laughed? When was the last time I played? I remember being the sort of person who did those things. Now, I'm the sort whose brother compliments them formally before state events.
Father laughs in my memory.
I launch myself at Anwen in a full-body tackle before I can think twice and hit him broadside. We tumble down another dune. He writhes in my grasp, biting whatever he can reach, never hard enough to hurt. I fight back, grab his tail, tug on his ears. When we stop sliding, I take off again, and he tackles me back to the sand. There's a rush in tussling like this, in not worrying about what I'm doing or why, just following my wolf I've been denying for so long. And if either of us rack up a few bright spots of pain where someone didn't guard their teeth as carefully as they might, I certainly don't mind.
A smell reaches my nose. Floral, deep. Dream thistle. I blink and look around as Anwen sinks his teeth lightly into my haunch.
I didn't think about the Haze often before Anwen. I knew the Goddess would take me by the paw and lead me where I needed to go. But when I allowed myself the thought, I hoped I might end up here. A tiny oasis, north of the city. Just large enough for a small pool of water, a sheltering copse of trees, and a blanket of dream thistle on the ground. The world has never looked so beautiful to me than it does here.
Anwen tackles me again, and we roll until he lands on top. The shift takes me almost before I know it's happening with a sweet shiver. I reach up and drag a finger along the soft fur of his snout. As soon as I take my hand back, he shifts as well.
There is nothing between us but night air and our own jagged breath. His body undergoes the same alchemy of everything in this oasis. He is even more beautiful, sculpted and moon-drenched. My core clenches.
Anwen opens his mouth.
Words will ruin this.
I surge forward and crush my mouth onto his then shove my tongue between his parted lips. He groans and wraps himself around me. His fingers seek purchase in my braided hair. I grab at his back, heedless of whether my claws are actually gone. Here, now, things feel just as simple and primal as they did the first night of the Haze. My wolf is free. I'll deny her no longer.
Anwen palms one of my breasts, kneads the soft flesh there. Want sends goose bumps over my skin. Already, my thighs are slick. He rocks up into me, rubbed his cock against my center with no real focus. I moan, and he slips his hand between us. When he brushes his fingers over the taut bud at the apex of my legs, I nearly scream in ecstacy.
I don't know what comes next for us. I don't know that there is a next. But we are keeping all of that outside for now. We are two wolves, two mates, finding each other in the night and wringing all the pleasure we can find out of each other's bodies. I push my hand between us as well and line him up with my entrance.
"Let's take it slow," he mumbles against my lips.
"No," I snarl. Saying anything else would break the spell.
Anwen hesitates, starting to pull back. My bite sears. My wolf howls. Not tonight.
I flip us over and pin his back against the ground. He stares up at me with wide, blue eyes, no sign of the ice I hated so much that first morning. But that's too much Goddess-damned thinking! I line his cock up and press my mouth to his chest. When I sink down, I bite.
"Fuck," Anwen groans.
He fills me up like puzzle pieces slotting together. I drag my teeth along his chest, his pale hair scraping my cheeks. His mate mark shouldn't be the only mark on his body. Right now, he's mine, and I need him to know that. I fuck myself on him and suck a series of bruises into his skin, haphazard and desperate. He fists a hand in my hair and chases my rhythm. I have never been so full, so free, so sure. The apex of pleasure races for me, and I sit up on his lap for a better angle. He sits up with me, crushing me to him, and finds that bud between my legs again. His fingers are so dexterous, so perfect.
As pleasure takes me, I sink my teeth into his mark once more. He stiffens and follows me over the edge a moment later. Thought, reality starts to filter back in as I fight to catch my breath, cradled against his chest.
"Are you done?" Anwen swipes his finger over that spot between my legs again. "Or can I fuck you slow now?"