The First Wolves

8. AFTER YOU WERE TAKEN

After they had slept, and Holda had eaten, a little colour warmed her cheeks. Otto told her about his time at the House of Heaton. Holda’s eyes were fixed on him the entire time, noticing the changes that the years had made to his physiognomy. He was broader now, built up with muscles, his hair still had the russet ginger vibrancy of his youth, but sparkles of silver broke the illusion of yesteryears, most of them were in his beard. She was desperate to run her fingers through his soft curls, but time had made this act seem forbidden. All her natural instincts made her nervous. Second guessing was one of the many scars left by her enslavement. Otto, always had wrinkles around his eyes, he had always been so quick to laughter, and the lines were the legacy of that former joy. More creases had joined his face over the years, but the deeper crevices in his forehead were the fixtures of frowns, fear and fury. The remaining constant still visible on his face were his stormy eyes, grey as the theoretical stone they had planned to build their future with. It was in them that she found her own confidence, and reached out to touch his cheek. He smiled. His heart soared as the tingles resurrected him. She still loved him as he loved her.

Reaching down into his pocket, he pulled out the totems he had used to focus on his prayers each night, and lay then on Holda’s lap. She picked up the smaller ones depicting their son and daughter, before crushing them to her heart.

“Each night I prayed I would find you all again. I asked my brother to protect you all, and I begged the moon Goddess to reunite us. Tell me, what happened after I was taken? Where do you think our children might be?” Otto held onto her closely, knowing how painful the memory would be for them both.

“After you were taken, and you told our pups to run, I blocked the path to the forest where they had fled. I told them not to look back. I told them to run no matter what they heard or saw. I fought the slavers as best as I could. I cursed myself the entire time that I didn’t let you train me like you always offered. It was no use, because they hit me on my eye with silver and I didn’t regain consciousness until after they had put me in the cage.” Holda stopped the story, touching the deep wide scar that cut through her eyebrow.

Confidently, Otto ran his thumb over the past hurt, and lightly kissed the shinier, silky skin. She heated at his affection, before she continued.

“The cart they put you in had already left, your scent was fading. I was thankful that I couldn’t see our pups. I thought at least they had been spared, but as soon as I finished the thought, I heard Annaliese. She was crying, and Adal was grunting, trying to fight with the human that had hold of her. They were put in the same cage. I called out to them, but the slaver whipped my cage. Instead, I waited until nightfall,” Holda paused, taking a moment to compose herself.

“What are you doing, my darling?” Otto asked her.

“I can’t cry, I just need a minute…it will pass in a minute” She answered determinedly.

“You’re free now, my darling. You do whatever feels right. You can share your tears, pain and anger with me. I’d rather have you messy and whole, than brave but partial.” He assured her, but she shook her head violently.

“Tears only cause pain with no benefit. What good can tears do now?” She spat in revulsion.

Otto didn’t argue with her, he knew these words weren’t hers, even the tone was stolen from another’s mouth. Otto only wished he knew who had made her fear her own feelings, and become numb to her own pain. If he knew the culprits, he would rip their tongues out to forcefully silence their suffering. Since vengeance had to be delayed, he rocked her in his arms until he felt the wet drops fall onto his hands.

They both looked over to Andre and his new mate, reminiscing about when they had first met. Andre had scooped his mate into his arms, one hand tucked beneath her knees, and the other gently placed on her head. Although the hunter was sitting down, it seemed as if he were ready to run at a moment’s notice to protect the most precious person he had ever known. Lost in the calming motion of stroking her silky hair, Andre’s seemed the same, but a touch of seriousness had changed his aura. He wasn’t alone anymore, and neither was his mate.

“Melissa,” he softly breathed her name, as though there were a chance that if he said it too loudly she would disappear.

She didn’t answer him, but held on tighter as if she were afraid he would disappear too.

Finishing her emotional relief, Holda resumed her story, starting from how she had spent the last hours with her pups.

“In the evening, we were allowed to huddle around the fire, so we sat together. Adal told me that Annaliese had tripped and twisted her ankle. He turned back to her and carried her on his back, but soon became tired from the extra weight. The slavers caught up with them, and he tried to hide them both. Our daughter told him to leave her and be free, but he refused. They were both taken. He just kept on saying sorry, over and over again. The next day, we were taken to the auction. They washed and dressed us in clothes that barely allowed us to keep our dignity, and they put the children in tunics. They tutted when they saw my eye and pulled my hair across the cut, pinning it in place. That’s how I ended up at the pleasure house. They didn’t see my scar when they paid for me. I was standing by the desk having my papers signed, and I saw Adal being pushed forward next. He was bought very quickly, and I saw some writing on the cart he was lifted into. I’ve never forgotten the markings, we just need someone who can read…” She clung onto this hope as the pace of her words increased.

“Our Luna can read, you only need to show her,” he interrupted, latching onto her contagious optimism. “What about Annaliese? What happened to her?” Otto asked.

“I don’t know. I was pulled away before I saw her fate, but Adal was still there. Maybe once we find him he will be able to tell us,” Holda answered.

Conri was sitting against the wall, with Fidella crossed-legged in front of him, her head resting on his bent knee. They seemed to be whispering and laughing, in their own world where they only had each other. For the leaders of a growing pack, moments like these were a rarity, it seemed a shame to interrupt them. Desperate to begin the search for their son, Otto and Holda walked to their Alpha and Luna’s small area, and explained how the markings would lead them to their son. Fidella was eager to help, and asked Holda to scratch the markings on the muddy floor. When she was finished, the Luna squatted down to read the words. Looking at both of them, she offered a broad smile.

“It reads; Vestini Butchers”

“That’s only three towns away from here,” Conri said, who had memorised the map with Fidella’s help.

“Looks like we have our next destination,” The Alpha smiled reassuringly to Holda.

Fidella still hadn’t risen, having been distracted by the painful burns on Holda’s ankle. Despite the imposition, she knew she would create. There was an inexplicable instinct to touch the raw skin.

“That looks really sore. Would you mind if I had a look at it? Maybe Winnifred will be able to make you a balm for it?” Fidella asked Holda, who nodded, not wanting to disrespect the Luna by refusing her kindness.

Reaching out to Fidella, she felt a warmth rush to her finger tips, but continued the inspection regardless. Gently, she touched the outer edges and then lightly brushed over the redder areas. Holda gasped, at the unusual sensation. It felt as if warm water had washed over the places the Luna had touched and removed the sting from the burned skin.

“It feels better already” Holda exclaimed, causing Fidella to stand abruptly.

“I’m glad, ask Winnifred if she has some thyme to help keep it clean,” the Luna suggested, trying to ignore the sense that something significant had happened.

“It seems you have healing hands!” Holda complimented, receiving a non-committal shrug and comforting smile from her Luna.

The two elated parents returned to their area, and lay down on the thin blanket. They fell into a pleasant silence, each having a million questions tangled in their heads like wool. Soothed by each other’s presence, and the happiness that in a few days’ time, they would find their son, their bodies relaxed into each other sharing their warmth.

“Holda, when you were sold to the pleasure house, what happened? I never felt any pain through our bond,” Otto didn’t want her to feel under pressure to answer, but he felt that they needed to be honest about their experiences.

Openness was key to strengthening their bond that had been stretched until it was as delicate as lace.

“When they pushed my hair back and saw the scar, they were furious. They told me that only perfection was allowed to serve the elite, so they made me the house slave instead,” She explained, always thankful for the imperfection that had saved her from that fate.

“What about you? I heard high up ladies pay well for a night with a gladiator?” She probed.

“They do, but those women considered my visage too rough, and course. Dare I say, I was too old for their tastes, and every day I was glad for my ugly, weathered, crinkled face.” He smiled at her, giving a glimpse of how things used to be in their cottage in the land they would never see again.

“It is as it ever was, my darling. You are my only one, and I am yours. We are together now and we will find our pups no matter what,” Otto leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, waiting for her to reciprocate.

As their tongues lapped across each other’s lips, Holda felt a little ember in her heart that she thought was lost forever. It was the glow that could only be ignited by her mate, and Otto let a little growl escape him as he reacted to her scent and body. Thrilled to recognise the normality between them that was slowly returning, their kiss became more impassioned. Most of the pack were in a deep sleep, excited by the day’s success. Holda lay down and Otto pulled the blanket over them, covering them both. The Holda he knew would never have let him be so physical with her in front of others, but she had changed, so he covered her face with kisses, focussing on the scar on her eyebrow that would be a perpetual symbol of her bravery. She plucked at his tunic, and ran her fingers through the curls on his chest that directed her down his stomach to his eager member. Her first grip caused him to muffle an involuntary groan. In response, he pulled at the laces of her tunic and circled her pink n*****s until they hardened between his forefinger and thumb. He admired how large they were after feeding two pups, appreciating how his mate was the epitome of the beauty inherent in womanhood. Nipping at her dark red cherries, he moved his hand to her wet vulva and rubbed his knuckles at her opening. Knowing her wish to be discrete, he covered her mouth with his own in the hope that they would swallow each other’s sounds of satisfaction. Plunging his fingers between her wet walls, he tested the theory. Repeating his massage of her inner walls, he cursed as she met the palm of his hand with her own thrusts, slamming her own clit against it. Close to their mutual end, Otto felt the tide of pleasure cover his hand, causing his own climax to explode on hers. Panting, they uncovered their heads, checking to see if they had been heard, but not noticing any changes. Wanting more, but needing to be uninhibited they enjoyed the afterglow of their orgasm. The soft tingles in their lower backs made them feel weak and strong in equal measure. They fell into a deep sleep aided by the haze of their love.

Neither of them had realised that Holda’s burns on her ankles were completely healed.