Chapter 94 - To My Soul

AYLETH

He swept her into his arms and down, into the water. Her legs naturally wrapped around his waist, so she was held both by him, and the water. 

He kissed her and he was trembling, even his breath shaking. She trembled too, but with a combination of thrill and tension. The look on his face when he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, traced her hair back from her face, was awe.

"You are… incredible," he whispered, looking at her lips, then back to her eyes. "I do not deserve you. But I am so grateful to have you."

Ayleth's eyes pricked. She was overwhelmed. "I feel so… uncertain. I want to learn, Etan. I want to please you."

"Oh, love," he whispered and kissed her again. "What you do not understand is that your heart speaks to mine. When you touch me… I feel you. It is… the best I have ever felt. We will both learn with time. But… I wouldn't trade this for anything. Please, believe me. There is nothing for you to worry about. You lack… nothing."

He had been treading water, she thought, keeping them afloat so they could speak. But suddenly she felt something behind her, and Etan lifted her from the waist so she sat on the edge of the large flat boulder that rose at an angle out of the lake. It was such an odd feeling to sit on the flat, warm surface unclothed. But Etan stayed close so she didn't feel exposed, She braced on his shoulders to keep herself balanced, but he smiled and stood between her knees so they were face to face. His hand, wet and glistening, rose to cup her face and tip up her chin. He kissed her slowly, one hand sliding up her back to fist in her hair, while the other gripped her thigh. 

Her heart pattered against her chest. Had he changed his mind? His kiss went deep, and his breathing hastened. He still trembled from his release, but his movements were sure now—he didn't fight himself as he leaned her slowly back, still cradling her until she lay flat on the rock, covering her with his own body.

His beautiful body that she wanted to see more.

But as he kissed his way down her neck, then to her collarbone, then her breast, she couldn't quite find the words to tell him to stop.

Her skin lit up, rippled by the water that lapped at her thighs, cradled by the warm surface of the sunning rock, and pressed by his weight, and stroked, always stroked by his hands. She let her head drop back and sighed as he laved first one breast, then the other, and then began to kiss his way down. 

When he stuck his tongue in her navel, she giggled and tensed, rolling up. But he growled and pressed her back down, his eyes fierce and intense, latched on hers from between the tines of his wet hair falling over them.

"Let me love you, Ayleth," he said, his voice a warm rasp. 

"I… but… the sun!"

"You are beautiful, my love," he said, and laid his tongue to her belly. "Let me show you how much. Do you trust me, Ayleth?"

"Yes."

He smiled then and his hand that had been at her waist slid down, down her thigh, to cup under her knee and bend it up.

Her eyes went wide and her cheeks flamed as he straightened and positioned her, open to him, her knees bent up, then—just as she began to lose her nerve and opened her mouth to tell him she'd changed her mind—he pulled both her knees up, over his shoulders and dropped his mouth to her core.

"Oh, Etan!" she squeaked, her hands fisting in his hair. 

He chuckled, but set to work on her with tongue and lips. Sucking and rolling until her breath came in gasps and she was no longer fighting being open to his view, but arching up, pulling him in, careless of what he might see or… anything.

"I… oh… I…" 

He lifted his head a hair and licked as he watched her and that glistening, rolling wave threatened. Her breath rushed out and back in and she didn't care. She didn't care that she was naked, in broad daylight, or that he could see even the most delicate parts of her. She just wanted him to do it again. 

"Close your eyes, and focus, Ayleth," he breathed, his breath fluttering over her most sensitive skin. She gasped again, but did as he said, letting her head drop back and closing her eyes to focus instead on the feelings. "Tell me what works, and what doesn't. Teach me, Ayleth, what makes you shiver."

"All of it so far," she panted. "All of it."

He chuckled again, but then his warmth was on hers and this time he touched her too, inserting first one finger, then two as she began to shudder. 

"Oh, there…" she cried. "Just a little more down… Oh… oh Etan I—" She sucked in as he rolled his tongue up from her deepest center to the bundle of nerves that crackled with his attention.

And then he sucked.

Ayleth shattered, wailing and keening, her entire body shaking and writhing—but he didn't stop and the rolling wave crested in an endless breath that seemed to last forever. 

She gripped his hair and panted, then her entire body shuddered and her breath rushed out. "OH ETAN!" she sucked back in as she rolled up to sit, pulling him up, to her, clinging him, her face in his neck as her body continued to jolt and roll as her climax eased and faded. 

"Oh… Etan…" she said, her voice high and thin. She wanted to weep—was swallowing tears! What was wrong with her? Why did she feel—

"Shhhhhh, my love… Shhhhh."

"Don't let me go… please…" she sobbed into his neck, clinging to his strength, suddenly terrified he would leave her there, exposed and alone. But he kissed her hair, and his magical fingers trailed up and down her spine. 

"I will never leave you, Ayleth. For anything. But least of all in this," he whispered, kissing her cheek and her neck and holding her.

Just… holding her. 

Her arms were too tight on his neck, she knew, but he seemed to like it, pulling her closer and breathing into her hair as he waited patiently for her to relax. 

Then, just when she thought she might finally gain control of herself, he combed back her hair and whispered, "I love you, Ayleth. To my soul."

She did weep then. 

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CHAPTER 1. What the Ever-Loving Hell?

ELRETH

Elreth was late. If her father, the King, noticed, he would have her hide.

He was already on the stage when she arrived, the long, sleeveless vest that was practically his uniform swinging around his knees. Its heavy fur collar framed his face like the mane of the Lion within him. He always stood proud in these moments, his massive shoulders back, no shirt beneath the vest so they could see the rippled muscles that still slicked his torso, despite his increasing age. At almost fifty, he was still shameless. She teased him about it constantly.

He growled something and his voice echoed across the amphitheater, but she ignored it, grimacing as she slunk through the crowd, twisting between the people, whispering apologies, until she made it to Aaryn, her best friend. He saw her coming and edged aside so she could fit between him and Gwyn on his right. Gwyn smiled, but her lips were tight. Elreth smiled, then turned back to Aaryn, rolling her eyes. Gwyn's very obvious yearning for Aaryn was getting old. Elreth hoped she'd move onto someone else soon.

Aaryn glanced at her from the side, his strong jaw tight and his ice-blue eyes piercing behind the strands of silver-white hair that always seemed to need a cut.

"What's going on?" she signed to him in the finger language they'd developed when she was ten, after her father roared at them for talking during training.

"Nice to see you, too," he signed back, but the jab wasn't accompanied by his usual smile, or the hooked finger that meant it was a joke.

Elreth frowned and signed again. "Sorry. Hi. What's going on?"

"There was a fight yesterday. Snakes and horses. Must have been bad. He's really upset," he signed, using the clawed fingers they used to symbolize a predator Anima's bared teeth. "Almost as bad as you when you're pissy."

She drew a quick cross at the apex of her thighs—a rude gesture she'd created specifically to imply he had no balls—but even when he snorted, she didn't smile back. Something icy was sliding down her spine.

The Tribes were fighting?

Elreth turned to the stage. She'd assumed this was just another of her father's dramatic addresses, something he always did when he needed to bring the people on his side of whatever Kingly decision he'd made. But Aaryn was right, the man on the stage was not her patient, good-natured father, who liked to laugh and tease, and steal kisses from her mother.

The man on that stage was the King. The angry King. The Lion. He stalked the space, shoulders back and chin down, eyes fierce and teeth bared. He was Reth, the King of Anima, and as Elreth paid attention to his booming voice echoing across the morning air, her uneasiness grew.

"…I have been patient, and your Queen has been patient, but it appears you will not be moved—your hearts will not be moved! We cannot allow this distance among the people. We cannot allow tension between the tribes—all of us have seen where that leads. We lived through the division of the tribes that took us to war and almost destroyed us. So, you leave us no choice!" he snarled, scanning the crowd.

Breath quickening, Elreth searched for her mother, the Queen, and found her standing further back on the stage, face tight, eyes on her mate, her arms folded beneath her breasts. She looked angry, and… afraid? Then she caught eyes with Elreth and something fierce entered her gaze.

But after a moment, her mother just looked back to her father, stress and worry on every line in her face. What was going on?

Her father glared and paced the front of the stage, while in a semi-circle centered on it, the rows of wide, grassy levels—each large enough for a full-grown male to lay down—rose, packed with Anima on every inch. All the tribes were there, the people of the lions, the birds, the horses, and serpents—even the few wolf packs that remained loyal to the King. There were more on the grassy tops, and gathered under the trees behind the amphitheater. With their Anima hearing, they didn't have to be close to know what was said.

Every Anima of age stood, riveted, as her father glared at them.

She'd been rushing to get here and hadn't paid attention to the people. But now she sucked in a long, drawn-out breath and let herself scent the tension and confusion of those around her.

"Big problem," she signed to Aaryn, the hair on the back of her neck rising.

Aaryn nodded and signed back, "Never seen him like this before."

Elreth had—but only when he spoke of the days when he'd almost lost her mother. The days when the whole Lupine wolf tribe still walked the forest of WildWood and… holy shit.

"What started the fight?" she signed quickly.

"What do you think?" Aaryn's face went flat as Elreth's darkened.

It had to be the disformed. She gave the little sign—one hand cupped around the other fist, but thumbs up, instead of curled as it would have been for the general Anima.

Aaryn just nodded, the little muscles at the back of his square jaw twitching.

The disformed were Anima who couldn't shift into their Beast forms. The Anima of generations past had always regarded them with suspicion. But her parents had worked hard for twenty years to begin integrating them more fully into the tribes. And they'd had some success. Especially with the younger people. But recent months had brought drought, and struggles over resources. The growing population of disformed had become a point of contention in the tribes that had a higher percentage of them.

Aaryn, as a disformed himself—and worse, a disformed wolf—had borne the worst of Anima prejudice since his earliest days when it was clear he couldn't shift into beast form. Add to that, he was the son of one of the traitorous wolves that had almost ended her parent's rule right before Elreth was born. He'd only been four when his father died in the battle. But now, twenty years later, the increase in the disformed population still raised resentment in some circles. And those circles were not silent.

Elreth lifted her hands to sign a question, to see if Aaryn was okay, when her father's voice rang out.

"The disformed will be asked to leave the Tree City, but allowed to remain in WildWood. They will be given their own tribe and encouraged to make their own way—"

As the crowd began speak, their voices rapidly becoming more insistent, Elreth froze, her heart pounding.

"No," she breathed.

Voices began to rise around her, mostly in surprise, but there were a few who showed excitement because they'd always been against the integration of the disformed Anima into their tribes.

Elreth's stomach plummeted to her toes—then rose again on the flames of her anger.

Aaryn's scent spiked in a strange tangle of fear and rage. She could hear his heart—as familiar to her as her own—pounding.

"Did you know about this?" he breathed.

"What?! No! Of course not! You know I'd never—"

"It is not the solution we would have chosen, but after physical conflicts yesterday between tribes, you leave us no other option!" her father snarled over the hubbub of the crowd below. Her mother's face lined with worry. "We will not allow another War of the Tribes!"

Dread clenched Elreth's stomach.

"He thinks he's going to make me leave?" Aaryn growled, bristling, his hands clenched. He moved to step forward, but Elreth fisted his shirt to stop him. He looked down at her, his piercing blue eyes furious.

It was instinct to fight anything—or anyone—that threatened someone she loved. Elreth didn't even think.

"If you will not hold to all your people, you don't deserve any of them!" she yelled, whirling to face the stage as the entire gathering turned to look for her with a murmur of shock.

But her father's eyes snapped straight to her face.

And then he bared his teeth.

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