Wolf Pack - 6. Travels and Dreams

Sandor lay between Danuva and Paelius, his leg in constant contact with the elf. This jealous feeling in him was strange. Paelius was his prince; he could lay with whoever he wanted. They had made no promises to each other. He was there for his prince, and if Paelius wanted to take another to bed, he should accept it, and be grateful the elf had given him what he had.

They lay near the firepit in the kitchen, the warmth of the embers acting with the single bed linen to keep them warm.

He was happy. Danuva was heading to Astara to sell a few of his chickens and Masia had agreed to go with him. They would be gone for at least two days, if not longer.

Paelius, on the other hand, was not excited about Masia travelling without him. They had an argument about it over dinner, which the human had surprisingly won, with some help from Danuva.

His dreams that night were of Paelius. Of running with the wolf, curling up with him at night. If this was just the werewolf in him trying to get out, he would let it.

Sandor woke in wolf form, legs wrapped around the man he loved. He pressed closer to the body, taking a deep breath, inhaling his lover’s scent, the smell of lavender strong…

The wolf jerked back with a growl, baring his teeth. Danuva rolled away, rising to his feet clumsily.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” the human apologised.

Sandor snapped at the man, and Danuva swatted his nose. The wolf sat down in shock, glaring at the human.

“Enough of that. I did nothing wrong,” Danuva grumbled. “You destroyed my last set of clothes, by the way. You’ll have to go nude until I get back from the city.”

Sandor growled, turning away. He circled next to Paelius, who still slept fitfully. Curling up next to the elf, the wolf glared at Danuva, resting his snout on the elf’s chest. He felt his prince relax, and his eyes closed.

Masia closed the bedroom door quietly. Taking a deep breath, she turned and saw the grey wolf curled up with her fiance- her former fiance.

Danuva stood in the corner of the room, filling a sack with coins from a small chest hidden under a floorboard.

“I saddled your horse. We need to leave early so we aren’t sleeping on the road,” he said without looking up.

“Thank you,” the woman said quietly.

“There’s some bread in your saddlebag. It should last you the day.”

“Did you decide not to go?” Masia asked, startled.

“I’m going. I need to pick up some new clothes. These two have destroyed all of my spares.”

Masia nodded. There really wasn’t much she could say to that.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” she said.

The man tied the bag of coins to his waist and drew a black travelling cloak over his shoulders.

“The chickens are already loaded in the wagon. I’m ready when you are,” Danuva said.

The two walked outside, and Masia mounted her bay, her pants scraping the leather of the saddle. She nodded to Danuva, who sat at the reins of a wagon drawn by a surprisingly healthy nag. The man clucked to his mare, and the wagon began moving. Masia pressed her heels to her horse and followed the wagon.

Paelius sat on a rock beside the creek, guarding Sandor as the younger elf washed off the grime of his travels. He studiously ignored his squire’s body.

He had been taking liberties with the elf. It wasn’t right, not when he was promised to someone else.

But he wasn’t promised to her. Not any more. He could be with whoever he wanted.

Paelius growled under his breath. Who he slept with shouldn’t even matter. He was supposed to be searching for a cure. And all he was doing was sitting in a creek, cooling his feet.

The elf glanced at the sword laying beside him. Silver plated, a werewolf’s nightmare. There was one way he knew to destroy his curse. But he would not take it yot. Not until he knew all was lost.

Standing, the elf shook his legs off.

“Sandor, we need dinner!” he called.

Sandor stepped out of the creek and shook the excess water off, before shifting into a wolf. He leapt through the trees, soon vanishing from sight.

Paelius sighed, and started making his way back toward the house.

Danuva sighed in relief as the gates of Astara came into view, shining in the light of the setting sun. It was never fun to be on the road all day, but it had to be done.

He led Masia toward an inn, one of the cheaper establishments. The man was not a fan of the place, but it would be good enough for the two nights they planned to stay.

Masia tipped the stableboy as she and Danuva placed their feet on solid ground once more.

“Any news on the auctions?” Danuva asked.

“I heard a bunch of slaves are getting sold in the morning. Other than that there isn’t much,” the stableboy replied, taking Masia’s horse.

“Thanks,” Danuva nodded.

He and Masia stepped into the inn, spotting a dozen patrons drinking in the downstairs tavern. A young man passed nimbly through the crowd of drinkers, collecting mugs and replacing them with filled drinks. With his slender frame and long black hair, Danuva almost mistook him for Quarian. His eyes widened as he spotted a pair of calico cat ears sticking from the man’s head. Flicking into his magic, Danuva examined the strange aura, spotting a few bruises, mainly near the man’s butt.

“What is that?” he asked.

Masia studied the cat man.

“I believe they’re called nekos. They’re rare and usually keep to the north. What one’s doing here is beyond me,” she said with interest. “Get the rooms. I want to talk to him.”

She handed Danuva a silver coin, and he winced as the metal heated slightly in his hand. Parting ways, the man approached the innkeeper.

“Two rooms and a mug of ale please,” he said, pulling out an extra three copper.

The man behind the counter took the money before handing him a pair of keys. Filling an empty mug, he slid it to Danuva.

“So, what’s with the neko?” Danuva asked, taking a drink.

“Free pair of hands,” the innkeeper said. “I bought him off a trader a few years ago. Folks around here love him. I’ve made a good bit of silver hiring him out to patrons.”

“Hmm.”

Danuva kept his face neutral as he watched a woman grab the neko’s ass. A slave. And one for sale for sex.

“How much did you pay for him?” he asked out of curiosity.

“Twenty silver. Trader wouldn’t go below. You thinking of getting one for yourself?” the man grinned.

“Maybe,” Danuva said thoughtfully.

“Well for only twenty copper you can test him out for a night, see if you like the fur.”

Danuva studied the man.

“Deal,” he decided, fishing the coins out.

The innkeeper took the money and yelled, “Boy! Get your ass over here!”

The neko walked gracefully toward them, balancing a pair of plates and three mugs in his hand. Hands reached out, tugging his tail or stroking his ears. He seemed to pay them no mind. He bowed his head as he reached the bar.

“You’re done for the evening. This man has bought you for the night.”

The neko nodded silently, his eyes flickering toward Danuva.

“Enjoy,” the innkeeper leered.

“I will,” Danuva said, forcing a smile on his face.

He drained his ale and made his way over to Masia, who sat conversing with an elven woman.”

“I’m heading to bed,” he said, handing her a key.

Masia nodded, eying the neko. Danuva’s neck burned at the silent accusation, but he made no comment.

“Good night,” the woman said.

Turning, the man made his way to the stairs, the neko following behind him silently.