Wolf rolled off of her and reached over to snuff out the candle.
His coyote’s brilliant, fiery hair was swallowed up in the blackness that embraced the two of them lying on the pallet of furs. Then she tucked in under his arm and the smells of roses and burning honey pressed against his face. He spit out of a few strands of errant hair and she huffed in amusement, tickling the fine hairs on his chest.
They lay in each other for a while yet before the coyote in flesh turned away from him to dry herself and cool after their excursions. From the ease of her breath, Wolf thought she had fallen asleep, but then she broke their silence with a whisper: “Why did you kill the Ashlander?”
“Why?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Then, about when sleep threatened even him, she said, “Beasts survive… Did that sand lion say something to threaten our territory? Or was it that he was small and easy to destroy?”
He sighed. “We needed the meat.”
She rolled over to face him, her expression surprisingly angry. She whispered, “He was a skinny desert dweller! And the seeds have taken for the first time in seven cycles! Something has happened beyond our fences and you--!” Her mouth snapped closed and she regained control of her emotions as she said blandly, “You won’t let me out of your sight. Elk is consorting with the other hooved ones. They’ll kill you, come rutt.”
Wolf’s laugh was guttural and genuine. “Finally, your stag finds his big balls. You must have left them where he could find them.”
“He hasn’t been the same since the last seven-day. Losing Rowena…” She petered off when she saw his face change. Then her mottled eyes narrowed. “Rowena.”
Wolf was grinning, his filed teeth glinting from a sliver of moonlight that split their faces in twos. He closed his yellow eyes as he rasped, “You needn’t worry over our queen, Coyo.” He opened his eyes and watched and waited for the words to transform her face from confused to shocked to worried. His answered smile was lazy. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Your daughter lives in the star of The Spice King, chosen.”
“Then…? The Ashlander?”
“A portent for a time yet to come. Other seeds have been planted.”
“Price paid,” she whispered against his chest and he bristled at that unprovoked turn of phrase. She continued with, “He said there would be a price even for our folly, Wolf. He warned us even then, but… if we hadn’t, then Rowena wouldn’t--”
“Shh,” he hushed her, combing a hand through her hair and pinning his grip on the back of her head. He hugged her to him and she wrestled against his grip, dragging in a gasp of air as she pushed against him. He said, “Quiet yourself.”
When she stopped squirming, he let her go and she looked up at him, a furious set to her brow. “You told me we would be the new gods! There would be no more sacrifices to The Spice King! You told me he would fade! You told me I would be free! You told me the killing would stop someday! Yet, you lie here like some fat--”
He cut her off with another shushing sound and squeezed her. He regretted telling her. Still, he had no one else but her. No one else...
“Shh?!” she demanded in a hiss of her own. She bit at his neck and he barked sharply at her. Still she quieted her voice as she snapped, “No wonder our seeds take! No wonder there is more game in the mountains! When will you tell Chief? When will you tell the elders?”
“Why?” Wolf asked tiredly, but grumbled a warning when she bit him again, and hard enough to leave a mark. He wanted to hit her, but instead he crushed her against him. He growled into her hair, “They are believers, Rufus! To them, the sacrifices have finally brought back a true Spring! To them, our efforts have not gone in vain! Do you think they know about your true nature? Do you think they truly understand what it means to be a beast and to survive?” His voice softened as she began to shake with barely contained rage in his arms. His grip loosened and his hands roamed from her hair to the small of her back. She moved to sit on top of him, her nails digging like claws into his sides. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she could see his. He said, “We are wolves, and we must survive. Rowena must survive.”
“What fruits will these seeds bring?” she asked him, her voice remote. She drug her nails slowly down and then rested her hands in the hollows made by the bones of his hips. “What did the Speaker have to say?” She rolled herself against him and his hands went from her back to her thighs.
He grunted when she moved, but gave her a cunning, crooked smile. “Revolution, my beautiful red wolf. Whatever happens, we ruin those that approach our territory. We--” His words hitched as she slipped him inside her. Then he gripped her buttocks and bent his knees, pressing his feet against the furs to help her find the right angle. She pressed a hand to his chest to bear her weight, but the other went around his throat. In the refrains between their labored breaths, Wolf managed to choke out from behind his bared teeth, “Let them believe whatever they want. We protect our own at any cost.”
Red Wolf’s hair curtained the sides of his face as she moved the hand from his chest to the one around his neck, bearing both of them down on his throat as she smiled. “The Spice King forgives us,” she said sweetly. "He loves us." Wolf’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as she whispered against his jaw, “Your god chose your daughter.”
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