At Her Oasis

2. Cat Got Your Tongue?

Lucien

As we approached the land of Karhu, the trees seemed to shrivel, the land hardening. I clenched my jaw, remembering it well from my last venture into these parts. Orsa caught my eye and smiled at me. It was different now and I took strength from her reassuring grin.

We stopped outside the borders, where the dragons had made camp.

“Thank you for coming,” Ryo said, as we dismounted.

He touched his hand to his chest in the traditional Zamee greeting. My thoughts were with Mama Zapada as I held my fist to him in return. It wouldn’t do to think that way. It wasn’t the fault of the dragons that she was no longer with us. The blame lay with Baka, the now deceased king of the bears. A satisfied hum went through me as I remembered how Mama Tasmina had finished him, forcing him to stare at the woman he had tried to destroy as his life drained from him.

I stole a quick glance at Sakina. Her hair had grown even longer, the brown waves cascading down her back in her long ponytail. She turned to me as though feeling my gaze and I restored my mask, winking at her lasciviously. She looked tired, but her proud jaw was tilted high, her training as a warrior keeping her posture straight and graceful as she dismounted. Her body was athletic, her long legs powerful as she landed. I had often thought about how she could crush my head between her thighs and the thought sent a pleasurable thrum through my blood. The combination of her agile, warrior body against the soft feminine curve of her small, pert breasts and the roundness of her rear was an irresistible combination. I had seen nothing in the world that I wanted more.

“Stop staring, asshole. I know you haven’t seen another woman for a few miles, but we’re nearly in Karhu. I’m sure there are plenty of willing bears who would love to sample a tiny wolf prick,” she drawled.

“I’ve been listening to Orsa and Kai f*cking in a tent for the past nine days. You can’t blame a man when he’s short on options,” I retorted.

She rolled her eyes at me and I fought every urge I had to grab her by the hand and lead her to a tent of our own. Even the dragons laughed at our exchange, Orsa rolling her eyes at the both of us.

“When will you two just…” Kai left the sentence incomplete, shaking his head at the both of us.

Never, brother. For she deserved far more than a broken mate who was just beginning to piece his life together.

I shook all thoughts of her from my mind.

“So, tell us. What problems is the young Prince Dama causing?”

We sat around their small camp fire and listened carefully as the dragons told us of their attempts to reason with the young prince.

“He’s drunk on power,” Orsa muttered, as they told us of his flat out refusal to return the egg.

“Thank you for waiting for us before you burned the city to the ground,” she said, gratefully.

Tiama, the mother of the egg, looked down in shame.

“It was the least we could do. I still think of your mother. I pray the gods keep her,” she murmured.

I saw Kai take a deep breath. I didn’t trust myself to speak, even though I knew it wasn’t her fault.

“She died at your hands. But you were being used as a puppet by Baka. The blame for her death died with him,” he said, every inch the graceful prince his Mama had raised him to be.

Orsa met his gaze, and they exchanged more with one look than words could ever convey. Despite all propriety, my eyes went to Sakina. I felt as though she was deliberately avoiding my gaze as I was met with her sharp profile. Her cupid’s bow lips, lush and inviting as she stared away from me. I took advantage, taking my fill of her, her small, straight nose pointing slightly at the end.

With great difficulty, I tore my gaze away from her.

“So, you want us to go in there, snatch your egg, leave Dama with scars that he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and then you’ll set the city alight?” I concluded.

“No. Where we can spare the loss of innocent life, we will. We just want our child back,” Tiama said, quietly.

“I will arrange a meeting with Dama. Under the law, the throne rightfully belongs to me. If he wishes to challenge me for it, he knows what he must do,” Orsa said.

I grinned, gleefully. There were few things I enjoyed more than watching a good fight. Perhaps my c*ck in a willing hole, but other than that, good combat was very near the top of my list. I stretched luxuriously, more than a little pleased when I saw Sakina eying my body appreciatively.

“It seems I haven’t been the only one short on options,” I teased.

She scowled at me, standing up and stretching. There was a small marking of a vine that crept up the side of her hip and disappeared below the waistband of her shalwar. I watched as her feline body stretched, her back arching. My throat went dry.

“What’s the matter, Lucien? Cat got your tongue?” she asked, her eyes blazing with a challenge that I longed to accept.

Instead, I grinned at her.

“Not a cat, no, but we’ll see if a bear can get it,” I said, winking.

She laughed loudly, the husky sound making my c*ck twitch. It was like a f*cking compass these days, and she was always north. But she showed no signs of jealousy, no sign of telling me to stop. I breathed deeply, grateful that she was here, she was alive and that goddess had heard my prayer. As for the dull ache in my chest – that was just something I would learn to live with.

“Let’s rest now,” I said. “Tomorrow morning, we will meet with this stubborn prince and get you back what’s yours.”

The party nodded in approval. Kai and Orsa were already setting up their tent eagerly. I exchanged a glance with Sakina and we both looked away, snorting with laughter.

—

Orsa

Kai was fast asleep when I heard rustling outside our tent. I grabbed my dagger and moved quietly, not wanting to wake him up in case it was just a poor rabbit that had lost its way. We were on the edge of the forest that sat at the border of Karhu – there were plenty of animals around. But I left the tent quietly nonetheless, only to see the looming figure of Lucien heading into the trees. What the f*ck was he doing?

I followed after him silently. He didn’t jump at the sound of my voice.

“A bit late for a pleasant walk in the forest, is it not?” I called.

He turned around, tousling his hair sheepishly. For such a self assured bastard, it was a strangely vulnerable habit.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Why are you here? If you’re not exhausted after a night with my brother, perhaps he’s doing something wrong,” he teased.

I laughed, shaking my head at him. He was just as bad as me, a habitual flirt, his reputation as a charmer preceding him wherever he went. He broke off a piece from a large chunk of soft bread he carried and threw it at me. Like me, he had a never ending appetite, his stomach seemingly a bottomless pit. We found a felled tree and sat on the trunk together. He chewed contemplatively.

“What’s on your mind, Lucien?” I asked.

“I’m just hoping that this morning goes well for you,” he said.

He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t being entirely truthful either. My pity for him had its reserve though – I couldn’t help feeling the small bud of anger that grew in me at the fact that he didn’t know Sakina was his mate. My poor friend was living in agony, smiling through her pain as she spent each and every day in his presence, unable to escape him, but unable to claim him as her own.

“You don’t seem like a praying man,” I teased.

His laugh was hollow.

“No, I most certainly am not,” he agreed, his eyes looking beyond me.

It may have been a trick of the moon, but there seemed to be a deep sadness behind them.

“So, why are you following me in the middle of the night, Orsa? Finally succumbing to your unrelenting desire for me?” he teased.

He had a habit of using his excellent humour to change the topic but I had wised up to it. I laughed.

“You Zal men are devastatingly handsome,” I admitted. “But I have my mate, thank you very much.”

He seemed to wince at the word.

“Lucien, what troubles you?” I asked, taking his hand in mine.

His small smile was sad, not brimming with its usual promise of mischief.

“Many things and nothing at all,” he said, speaking in his infuriating riddles. “Once we have returned the egg to the dragons and brought Skol to justice, I will be well. Perhaps I have spent too long away from home. It will be nice to finally have some peace.”

I nodded, agreeing with him. We held hands for a little while longer as the moon slowly made its descent. I had formed bonds with his entire family, but the one I shared with him was different. There was a visceral understanding that we both craved and didn’t have – before now. We both had trouble accepting love when it was given to us freely, for fear of it being taken away. He had built his walls so high. I had spent years of my life doing the same. Kai had slowly, patiently, brick by brick, taken down that wall, no matter how much I had frustrated him, no matter how hard I had tried to prevent it. His kindness and his patience had won. My demons had lost.

But I understood Lucien. The fear he held deep within him of being innately unloveable. It was a fear that still sometimes arose in me, although less so. I squeezed his hand gently.

“I love you, Lucien.”

He was startled for a moment, his eyes like a hunted gazelle’s. He recovered quickly, squeezing my hand in return.

“I love you, too, Orsa.”