Amber Waves - 14. Chapter 14

ITUMAK

The neko was totally checking him out.
Itumak had noticed it recently, more and more as he hung out with Ren after work. It was the same look everyone seemed to give, and the white neko wasn’t sure if it was just his wolf reading into things that weren’t there. If it was anyone else, he’d feel them out, see if they actually wanted to do anything. But Ren was a coworker, and worse, he was not a wolf. Itumak wasn’t sure he could be responsible for turning the neko.
Which was an easy fix. He had condoms at home, thick enough to resist his barbs. But tonight hadn’t been about sex; it was about celebrating Ren’s seventeenth birthday. Itumak consoled his wolf with promises of sex later. The wolf didn’t need to rut; Itumak knew he’d be happy enough just licking himself.
Ren’s tail was flicking nervously, and the werewolf could smell the acrid scent of adrenaline coursing through his friend. Itumak waved the bartender over, slipping a handful of copper across the counter.
“Another Ordavar, please,” he said.
“Virgin?”
“Yeah.”
The elf took the coins and turned away to make the drink. Itumak could feel Ren’s eyes on him, nerves filling the air around them.
“You just… give them a number as a drink?” Ren asked suddenly.
“Askani Ordavar. It was a howitzer used in the Battle of Two Rivers,” Itumak shrugged. “Gin and sparkling wine in lemon juice. You don’t see it coming until it lays you out. The virgin is just lemon juice with tonic.”
“They really used elven numbers to label a neko gun?”
“Look at it this way. If a bunch of nekos were about to kick your ass with a gun that could pound your fort with fifteen rounds a minute, would you want to waste time trying to describe the gun in another language?”
A thin flute was set in front of each neko, a clear, bubbly, liquid sitting with a lemon peel floating in the mix. Itumak murmured his thanks, before taking a sip of the drink. He came away with a bitter tartness, the slightest hint of sweetness offering a brief reprieve from the taste.
“How do you remember all these drinks?”
“I just remember my favourites,” Itumak shrugged. “It’s not too hard to order them virgin.”
“Because the virgin is here,” Ren scoffed, his ears twisting in subtle shame.
“Hey, easy enough to fix that if you want,” Itumak shrugged. “All you have to do is ask for it.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Ren snorted, shoving the other neko playfully.
“Well fuck you. You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is,” Itumak smirked. “Do you know how horny werewolves get? It’s easy to fuck us. Well, most of us.”
“How the fuck do you do it though? I mean, you’re so fucking confident. And so hot you succeed way more than I like to see.”
“So you’ve been watching me for a while then,” Itumak said, taking a sip of his drink.
So close, but the Askani wasn’t asking the right questions. The werewolf would have to nudge a bit more.
Setting the glass aside, the white furred neko turned his full attention to his darker companion.
“We all know what I am. What is it about me that attracts you? The fantasy of a strong wolf, or the reality of a guard who can never have enough? Don’t get me wrong, if you ask me to, I’ll still take you as hard as you want. But I want to know what you are hoping for here.”
He couldn’t be any more obvious if he tried. The rest was up to Ren. The neko had slipped up. Would he backtrack, or was he actually going to ask for what he wanted?
“Fuck, I don’t know,” Ren frowned. “I never felt this way before.”
The Askani shook his head with a sigh, and pulled out a silver coin.
“Can I have a beer please?”
He dropped the coin on the counter.
“Sure, what kind?” the bartender asked.
“Goldhill.”
Itumak waited for the neko to drink. Ren must have known what he was waiting for. The werewolf was not going to push.
The beer vanished down Ren’s throat slowly, the silence growing more and more awkward.
The Askani’s half-empty glass thumped on the counter.
“Itumak, will you fuck me?”
“Yeah. Just needed you to ask,” Itumak smirked. “You got protection?”
“Uh… no,” Ren frowned. “I didn’t exactly plan this out.”
“No worries, I have plenty at home.”
Ren’s ears flattened, his eyes widening slightly.
“Your home… you mean the Captain’s apartment? We can’t do it in there!”
“Sure we can. Just do it very quietly,” Itumak grinned. “And spray a little air freshener after so he doesn’t smell it. This isn’t my first sleepover.”
“I’m not afraid of being a werewolf. We don’t need protection,” the Askani said. “It’ll be nice to get away from those fucking elves anyway.”
“It would be nice to see another neko in the wolf barracks. Fine, no protection. But the only other place to do it is the barracks, surrounded by wolves that can smell everything, or a hotel-”
“I can pay for a hotel,” Ren said quickly.
“Nope, not happening. It’s your birthday dude. I’m paying for it,” Itumak denied. “Are you going to finish your drink, or should we get going?”
The Askani stared at the rest of the beer and shook his head. The nekos stood up and Itumak headed toward the door, grabbing Ren’s hand. He could feel the other neko’s nerves building, and the werewolf knew he was going to have his hands full keeping Ren calm.
But he also knew it would be absolutely worth it for them both.

AMBER

The queen pushed a stack of papers aside, letting out a sigh. Leaning against her desk, she looked at the painting on the wall, wondering what Captain Darren was doing. It had been six months. Six months since she’d been declared cancer free, six months since she’d shared a dinner with the captain of her guard.
She was exhausted. And it pissed her off. Amber was supposed to be strong. She’d beaten cancer, for fuck’s sake. She was strong. So why couldn’t she handle a little extra paperwork?
A knock at the door pulled Amber out of her thoughts.
“Enter,” she called, reaching for a report on the cost of water in the Ythin desert.
A cost that had only been rising since the drought in Khorsa started. It made sense for the price to increase in the desert, but not by the amounts it was. The Ythin were jacking the cost of water up to line their pockets, and that pissed Amber off to no end.
She barely held back a growl as an elf stepped into the room.
“Dinner is ready, your Majesty.”
“Thank you Paelias. I’ll be there shortly,” the queen said quietly, fighting back her frustration.
The elf bowed, before scurrying from the room. Amber allowed a sigh to escape as the door closed. Now the entire palace would know she was upset, and that only served to increase her frustration.
Part of her wanted to escape. To impose upon her captain, and enjoy his company again. They both knew where they stood; this was a good friendship and nothing more could come of it. But Amber couldn’t vanish from dinner. Too many tongues would wag, first among the palace servants, and then among the city.
Rising to her feet, the queen of Astara drew a deep breath, slowly soothing her frustration. Only then did she step from her office, and make the journey to the dining room.
Aaron was already waiting for her as she entered, though Amber noted with relief that Finley was missing still. She wasn’t late.
“Dowager Finley said he wasn’t feeling well,” Aaron provided as Amber sat across from him.
“Oh. Perhaps some time in Sarelin will do him well,” Amber suggested. “I had been thinking of taking a vacation in Mydara, but if Father is unwell, the mountain air might not be good for his health.”
A brief frown crossed Aaron’s face, vanishing just as quickly as it had come.
“Is something wrong?” Amber asked, as plates of food were set on the table.
“You’re using political speech,” Aaron chuckled quietly. “Did you have a meeting today?”
Amber echoed her son’s frown, before letting out her own chuckle.
“I did,” she smiled. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t clean myself of the politicians’ stench properly.”
It took a bit of effort to remind herself that she didn’t need to use flowery speech, not here in the privacy of the dining room. Amber cleared her throat as Aaron began eating.
“I do think some time in Mydara would be nice. It’s been ages since I was out there last, and you haven’t seen the royal palace there. It’s a relic from the time of the Mydaran Kingdom.”
“It sounds like a fun vacation. But I wouldn’t mind visiting Sarelin either, as long as Itumak got to go with us,” Aaron suggested.
“Darren and Itumak would both go with us, as the heads of the guard.”
“Itumak isn’t the head of the guard,” Aaron frowned. “That’s Aime. She would be going with us, but I want to include Itumak.”
It would be a good move for the elf prince, a very political move. He hadn’t dealt with nekos publicly since his sentencing of Itumak and Renshin. But Amber knew better than to play up the political aspect of their friendship.
“Perhaps you should go for a run with him tonight,” Amber suggested instead.
“I can’t. He’s off duty. It’s Ren’s birthday today. I think they went out to drink.”
“And you didn’t go with them?” Amber asked.
“No. Ren’s my friend, but I feel like my station is coming between us. He’s always been very… rigid, I guess, but now it’s almost unbearable,” Aaron sighed. “It would have spoiled the mood if I went with them.”
Amber nodded slowly.
“It was going to happen. Some people can’t handle this kind of change. I could almost guarantee if you went back to the orphanage, you’d be treated very differently now.”
The conversation stalled as they continued eating.
“Dowager Finley seemed rather upset earlier,” Aaron added after a few minutes.
“I don’t think he was expecting the intramural wolf addendum to pass,” Amber provided. “That was a stroke of genius, sticking that into a bill involving the council’s pay.”
“I figured they wouldn’t fight too much if their gold was on the line,” Aaron scoffed. “They were falling over each other to agree to it.”
“And now you can take this victory and add onto it. If teen werewolves can play sports without any harm coming to their classmates, why would they need to be muzzled for professional sports? If they don’t need to be muzzled for sports, wouldn’t that imply they aren’t as dangerous as everyone seems to think?”
Aaron nodded, a frown on his face.
“I know he’s your father, but I don’t like Dowager Finley. What happened to him? How does someone with a werewolf mate enact all these laws to neuter werewolves?”
“I cannot answer that question, except to say that he was from an orphanage under the patronage of Lumara’s temple.”
Amber sighed quietly, studying her son.
“Aaron, I know I’m several months late, but I owe you an apology. When I first learned you were a werewolf, I must admit I thought of annulling your adoption.”
“I expected it,” Aaron said, pushing his plate aside.
“Father was the one who made me see reason,” Amber revealed. “I don’t think he hates werewolves. I think it was the situation he was in. He developed a harsh stance toward werewolves that helped when there was a lot of anti-wolf sentiment in the city. But he’s stuck by that stance, when it is no longer acceptable. I’ve learned to grow beyond what he taught me, and I apologise for my derogatory thoughts toward werewolves.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Aaron stood up. He slid his chair against the table, a frown on his face.
“I’m going for a run,” he said quietly. “Thank you for your apology Mother.”
The prince of Astara fled from the room, leaving Amber to puzzle through his exit. She couldn’t help the feeling that she’d made things worse for the werewolf, but Amber needed to be honest about her faults. She would just have to hope Aaron would accept her apology.

AARON

The blonde wolf paused by a tree, his guards shadowing him from a distance. A soft grunt escaped him as he sniffed around the trunk of the mighty oak, one of the youngest oaks in the woods. He knew the history of the woods; the trees around him, kept a respectful distance from each other, marked the graves of Astara’s rulers from generations back. Humans, elves, and nekos all lay under his feet, their bodies providing life after death.
The oak he stood by belonged to Queen Erin, Dowager Finley’s mother. Aaron was near the edge of the woods now, and could see the plots marked out for Finley, Amber, and himself. Near Finley’s lot, a willow tree held a lonely vigil, its branches weeping as it waited for the dowager. Prince Consort Zaddis was one of two werewolves in the woods; the only other with that distinction was Aerin the Healer, the prince who had given his life so his mother might live on.
Crickets chirped slowly in the cool night air; spring was starting to give way to summer. A breeze whistled through the trees, disturbing the peace, and driving a myriad of scents into a nose already clogged with the smell of decomposed skeletons. His wolf rumbled at the fresh smell of a rabbit, but Aaron held the beast back. He wasn’t here to hunt.
He didn’t know why he was here.
The wolf’s feet had wandered through the Queenswood, randomly, the elf thought. To be here, feet from his future grave, felt like a premonition of some sort, and Aaron shivered, even as his wolf scoffed.
Live for the day, and do not fear the future. The world was his pack, and as long as his pack was healthy, his wolf would be happy. Life was simple.
For Aaron, doubts and fears kept life from being simple or happy. Was his mother right? He had never had issues with werewolves before he turned. Was he fighting for werewolves, or was he fighting for himself? And did it matter? If he won, it would be a victory for the werewolves anyway.
His eyes were starting to burn from exhaustion. Aaron turned around, watching his two guards melt back into the woods. He let out a soft woof; they needed to lead him back to the palace. Captain Darren and Aime fell in on either side of their prince, guiding him back to the palace.
Slowly the trio picked their way back through the woods. Aaron listened to the sounds of the woods as he stepped over a root. A yawn slipped from his jaws, and the werewolf chastised himself for not controlling his body better. He shouldn’t have stayed out as long as he had. As far as he could tell, it was nearly ten at night. Aaron found himself craving a friend. Maybe Itumak was back, and he could get the neko to stay with him tonight. If nothing else, Itumak could scoff at his worries and explain how he was doing the right thing regardless of how it felt.
The wind shifted as they neared the palace, and Aaron froze suddenly as a scent struck him. An instant later, he was racing across the palace grounds, the sharp yelps of his guards telling him to wait. But he couldn’t wait, not with that smell in the air.
Aaron nearly slammed into the palace doors. A footman opened the heavy wooden barrier, letting out her own yelp as a large wolf shoved past her and toward the flight of stairs deeper in the palace. Warning barks broke from Aaron’s mouth, alerting anyone who could hear that there was trouble, that the scent of death was thick in the air. He didn’t know how Darren and Aime couldn’t smell it; the stench was pouring through the palace.
Bounding up the stairs, Aaron dodged a startled guard. He let out another bark, racing down the hall. A door opened, and Amber stepped out of her room with a robe wrapped securely around her.
“Aaron!”
The wolf wasn’t listening, he couldn’t listen. But he did slow down, letting the others catch up to him as he neared another door. Whimpering loudly, Aaron scratched at the wood, his body held tense as though he could fight off this enemy that dared invade his home.
There was no fighting it, not now, but Aaron was not going to back down. He didn’t know what he could do; he felt helpless, but surely there was some way to stop what he already knew.
A guard knocked on the door loudly, the hall filling with palace denizens. There was no response.
“Open the door,” Amber said quietly, dread filling her voice.
Aaron whimpered again as a key slid into a lock. With a click, the door opened.
Dowager Finley lay curled in his bed, heavy covers fighting off a chill that came from an open window. His jaw sagged, his ears drooping heavily, and his skin was pale.
“Someone…”
Amber’s voice trailed off, even as the group hovered around the door. A moment later, Darren pushed past the onlookers, his body rippling as he shifted back to his human form. The captain of the guard crossed the Dowager’s bedroom swiftly, his eyes scanning Finley’s face. A hand touched the neko’s neck, Darren’s other hand held under Finley’s nose and a pregnant pause filled the air.
The words came calmly, quietly, hiding the agony they all felt in the moment.
“He’s gone.”