Wolf Pack - 16. Epilogue

Paelius moaned as the werewolf moved in him. A long warm tongue flicked against his neck, and he gasped as another thrust hit that magical button inside him.

“Almost there my prince,” Quarian murmured, thrusting deep into the elf.

Paelius felt the human tense up, his thrusts coming quicker, with a sudden urgency. Quarian collapsed on him, and Paelius felt the tiny knot grow inside him. It was bigger in wolf form, but he preferred to be in his natural shape when they made love. The prince was still learning to fully accept his transformations.

They remained stuck together for almost ten minutes, Quarian stroking his prince lovingly.

“You have ruined me,” the elf said, leaning into Quarian’s body.

“Mmm… Any time you want to switch, you have but to ask,” the man smiled into Paelius’ neck.

He slowly pulled out of the elf, eliciting a tiny protest.

“We need to go. You have to put the wolves through their paces and Danuva and Masia will be here in an hour with Arian. I need to make sure everything is prepared for them,” Quarian said, sitting up.

Sighing, Paelius joined him in getting dressed. They shared a tender kiss before Paelius left the room.

Heading through the palace walls to the training area, Paelius stepped into a guard house, scanning it carefully for threats as he had learned to do since Riardin. He removed the clothing he had so carefully put on, before heading out the back door of the house.

Fifteen people stood in a confused mess in the middle of a walled off courtyard, chatting with each other. All wore simple loincloths and nothing else. The location had been chosen for its privacy; these people would be kept secret at any cost.

“Form up!” Paelius yelled.

The group came to attention, hastening into a long line. Paelius walked over to a basket of wooden weapons and knocked it over. Weapons fell in a jumble and he made his way back to the line.

“Open skirmish today. Let’s work out the energy of last night. Weapons free, but spend equal time in both forms. We’ll pair up, so make sure you trust your partner.”

Motioning to a young human, one of Riardin’s victims, Paelius found some space to work in. He didn’t need a weapon, but he needed to work on his shifting. A mock fight would be just the right teacher.

Letting his wolf take over, the elf shifted and howled. The fight was on.

Masia climbed down from the wagon, smiling as Danuva handed her a small bundle. The journey had been long and arduous on the new mother, but she wanted to show off her daughter.

“Lady Masia!”

Turning, the human spotted Quarian hurrying toward the wagon.

“Prince Quarian,” she smiled with an awkward curtsy.

“And is this my niece?” Quarian asked, gazing at the child in Masia’s arms; the infant who shared the green of his eyes

“What, no hello for your brother?” Danuva asked.

Quarian grinned and ruffled Danuva’s hair.

“Hello brother,” he said. “You’re a father!”

“Yeah. I heard you might be a father soon yourself,” Danuva said.

He poked at Quarian’s stomach.

“You certainly look like you’re carrying.”

“Oh shut up,” Quarian laughed. “Come inside. I’m sure King Arethal would love to see Arian.”

Sandolin stared down at the sobbing elf at his feet.

“Please my lord, it was an accident!”

“You killed your wife and two children. That is hardly an accident.”

This was the worst part of his new position, judging the guilty. Most of the time it was boring, trying to settle land disputes between families, but then there were people like this man.

“Tathar Edaro, for the crime of murder on three instances, I sentence you to death. You will hang from the gallows this night.”

Turning to his guards, the werewolf waved for the man to be taken away.

“I am taking a break,” he said, standing from his chair.

Sandolin wandered through the halls, trying to force the elf from his mind. Servants hurried out of his way, not wanting to be the focus of his wrath.

It wasn’t often he killed a person. This man tonight would be his third in nearly two years.

This wasn’t working.

With a sigh, Sandolin directed his steps to the keep’s sallyport, kept empty for his use. Hidden by a wall of bushes, the werewolf removed his clothes and shifted, running out from the walls of the keep.

He didn’t worry about hiding from the guards; they had been told he kept a red wolf as a pet. None had seen it in the keep or kennels and he knew rumours were floating about him, but no one would dare to risk his anger by accusing him of being a werewolf.

Striking out for the woods, Sandolin passed through his territory, marking the edges of the lands. It kept predators away from his villages and werewolves away from him. The herds of cows and sheep in his land were some of the best animals in the kingdom with his extra protection.

A villager spotted him in his work and stared, awestruck. He was considered a beneficial spirit in the villages, a sighting was good luck for the person who saw him. Sandolin indulged the fantasies of the peasantry, making sure he ran at least once a week.

He had to care for his people, after all.

END