Phantom of the Heart

by Stein Willard

  Sterling's body began to shake, as a heat wave rushed through her body, scorching her insides. She threw her hands wide as she gasped loudly. A soft, almost indiscernible purr filled the room as Orla's thrusts accelerated even further, pushing the breath from Sterling's body. The moment her orgasm hit, Sterling cried out Orla's name, as she clung to her wife's heaving shoulders.

  ***

  The sweat that ran into her eyes blinded Orla, but she cared less about seeing Sterling than feeling the sweet body bucking wildly into hers. With a shout of pleasure, Orla pulled Sterling's hips into her own, pounding briskly into the redhead's releasing body. Her hips began to slow until she could only manage a few sharp thrusts ending with a deep stroke that held Sterling's lower body suspended from the bed. Completely drained, Orla lowered her quaking body onto Sterling's smaller one.

  They lay motionless, waiting for their breathing to even out. When she felt she could move again, Orla lifted herself on her powerful forearms as she looked down at Sterling. The princess' face was a mask of utter serenity as she lay there, chest heaving and mouth caught in a silent scream. Orla made a move to pull out of Sterling, but two strong arms shot out and held her in place. Coppery eyelids fluttered open to reveal gleaming, silver eyes.

  “Not yet.”

  Orla took Sterling's lips in a deep kiss. “You can have all the time you need.” She rolled onto her back, bringing Sterling with her and cradled her lover gently. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” murmured Sterling, as she drifted off to sleep.

  An hour later after a short, invigorating rest, Orla woke Sterling to make love to her again. This time, she was more comfortable wielding the shaft and took her time as she brought them both to another earth-shattering climax. Spent and hungry, they dragged their bodies over to the table where food had been set out.

  Orla fed Sterling a bite of tender fig, putting the other piece in her own mouth. Their eyes held as they chewed the sweet treat. They had not spoken much since their last lovemaking session, instead enjoying the quiet presence of each other. Sterling leaned close and kissed Orla.

  “I enjoyed myself, my love. Thank you.”

  “I thank you, too.” Orla reached for her wine goblet, took a sip, and held it out to Sterling. The silver eyes studied her over the rim of the goblet, a familiar look in her eyes.

  “Shall we go back to bed again?”

  Orla took the goblet from Sterling. “Your wish is my command.” She swung Sterling in her arms and carried her back to the rumpled bed.

  Epilogue

  Cybralle's eyes followed the agitated stride of the woman before her. She took a long drink from her wine. She could sympathize with Orla. She, too, had been a wreck on the night Sterling was born. Earlier, she had tried to calm the woman down by offering her a drink, but Orla had declined, choosing instead to pace the length of the hallway. Orla looked terrible. Her hair stood in all directions from all the times she had combed her fingers through it. Worry and exhaustion gave her face a haggard appearance and her hands shook so much that it was impossible for her to hold onto anything.

  She dragged her eyes away from her observation of Orla to the closed door. It was quiet now; at least the screaming had stopped. She had struggled to keep Orla from bursting into the room every time Sterling let out an anguished scream.

  “Why is it so quiet? Should it be like that?”

  Cybralle looked up to find Orla towering over her. “She has the best people at her side, Orla. I believe they would have told us if something was amiss.”

  Orla's eyes gleamed with unshed tears, as she looked at the door. “I need to be with her.”

  “She will be fine. You will see her soon,” Cybralle said softly. “Come have a drink with me. It will steady your nerves.”

  “I do not…”

  “I insist, Orla,” Cybralle said firmly. “You look like you will fall apart any moment now and it will burden Sterling further when she sees you like this. Here…” She held out a carafe. “Drink.”

  Taking the carafe, Orla looked at it long and hard before she lifted it to her lips. After a long drink she handed it back to Cybralle.

  “Now, we just need to wait.”

  They both surged to their feet when the door opened and a tired-looking Mesmeria stepped out. Orla was immediately at the queen's side.

  “How is she?”

  Mesmeria gave Orla a bright smile. “She asks for you.”

  ***

  The room smelled dank and the scent of blood hung heavy in the air. Orla pushed past the three midwives to her wife's side. Sterling was pale and her hair hung in strings around her face. She was so still and Orla’s heart plummeted at the thoughts that crossed her mind. She was not going to lose Sterling. If the gods thought they could take Sterling away from her, they were greatly mistaken. She would brave the Underworld to return her wife.

  “Beloved,” she called softly. When Sterling's eyes flickered open, Orla almost cried with relief. Sterling weakly lifted her hand and Orla grabbed it, kissing it. “How do you feel?”

  “Torn up,” Sterling whispered, as she attempted to smile. Instead, her face pulled into a grimace. Orla shuddered and tightened her hold on Sterling's hand. “Have you seen our baby? He is perfect.”

  The baby! Orla had completely forgotten about the baby, her only concern at the moment was Sterling. She had heard too many stories of women succumbing, during and after childbirth. She would look at her son later, once she was sure Sterling was well on her way to recovery.

  “I have not seen him yet. I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

  Sterling's face pulled into a grimace again and Orla looked up at the midwives. “With the baby out already, should she still have pain?”

  One of the women shook her head. “The pain should be gone.”

  “Then why is she still hurting?” Orla threw a worried gaze at Sterling's face which, if possible, looked paler than before. Her heart hammered in her chest. “What is wrong with her?” When no answer was forthcoming, she left Sterling's side and advanced on the women. “If anything…ANYTHING…happens to her, I will tear you all apart.” Orla was surprised to find that she meant every word. If Sterling was to die, the world would be a very unsafe place for these midwives.

  The door opened and Vernera entered the room. The grey-haired woman walked to the bed and lifted the sheet. Her eyes, so like Sterling's, blazed with fury when they came to rest on the midwives.

  “Bring more water. There is another baby inside.”

  The women, including Orla, were stunned at the revelation and not moving. Orla was the first to snap to attention.

  “Do as she says,” Orla thundered, startling the dozing baby.

  She looked around the room and saw a wrapped bundle in a bassinette. She walked over and looked down at the screaming baby's red face. Her son! She threw a quick glance at the bed. Vernera was softly talking to Sterling, their heads close to each other. She was grateful to have the woman here, since Sterling adored her great-grandmother. Orla returned her gaze to her crying son and gently lifted him out of the bassinette. He was big and clearly had strong lungs, judging from the loud cries. She carefully held him against her chest as she rocked him. He immediately fell silent and opened his eyes. Orla’s breath caught in her chest. His blue-grey eyes stared straight into hers. At that exact moment, Orla realized that the small human had stolen her heart. It was only when her eyesight became blurry that she realized she was crying. She was so absorbed in her son's gaze that she had cut off everything else happening around her. When she heard the frail cry of another baby, she turned to the bed. Vernera held up a small, wrinkled baby.

  “It is a girl,” she said with pride in her voice and Sterling lifted her head a little to look at her daughter. Orla stepped closer to look at her daughter and smiled tenderly. She was small compared to her brother, but Orla's heart melted at the sight of the delicate ears and tiny fingers.

  “We have another one coming,” Vern
era said suddenly and, this time, even she sounded surprised. Orla went to kneel next to the bed. Sterling looked utterly exhausted, but her eyes were riveted on the bundle in Orla’s arms. “Give me one more push, Sterling,” Vernera called out.

  Orla shifted her son to one arm so she could hold Sterling's hand. “You can do this, my love. Just try.”

  “I am so tired,” Sterling whispered, as tears trickled down her cheeks. “I just want to sleep.”

  Brushing away the tears, Orla gently kissed Sterling's sweaty brow. “Shortly, my love. Just give one final push. You want to see the other baby, too, do you not?” At Sterling's nod, Orla squeezed her hand. “Then give us one big push. Afterward you can sleep and I will take care of them while you rest.”

  Sterling's hand squeezed Orla’s as she pushed, her torso lifting off the bed. A deep grunt came from Sterling and Orla had to bite her lip not to cry at the obvious pain her wife was experiencing. Another weak cry sounded and Orla's eyes shot full of tears again. She had never cried so much before in her life.

  “Another girl,” Vernera said softly, her voice heavy with emotion. She carefully studied the crying baby. “This one bears the same mark as Cybralle. She is destined to be a great warrior.”

  Orla gave Sterling a deep kiss. “They are all so beautiful, beloved.”

  “Sleep…beautiful,” Sterling mumbled, as her eyes fluttered close.

  Orla gave Vernera an anxious look.

  “She is fine. Go help those hopeless women take care of my great-great-grand babies.”

  Orla gave Sterling a final kiss and walked over to where the midwives were busy cleaning up her daughters. She handed the sleeping boy to one of them and accepted the smallest of the trio. The girl was quiet now and looked up at her with somber blue eyes.

  “Hello, little princess,” she cooed, as she placed a small kiss on the baby's cheek. She cradled the tiny infant against her chest, feeling as if a part of her soul was seeping from her into the child. Would her heart ever be the same again? It felt so full, as if it was going to burst anytime now. The midwife took the baby from her and immediately her arms were filled with another. Her lastborn was bigger than her sister and, unlike the others, she was born with a tuft of black hair. Orla smiled, as she stroked a finger over the black fuzz. “Your grandmother Cybralle will be exceptionally happy to make your acquaintance, little warrior.” She kissed her daughter and held her out to the midwives. Vernera appeared next to her.

  “Three babies, Your Majesty. I must say that not many triplets have been born to an Ulv in the last two thousand years. Congratulations.”

  Orla grinned at the woman, so glad that Vernera had been there to save the lives of her wife and daughters.

  “I will forever be indebted to you for being here tonight, Vernera.” Orla's eyes shot full of tears. “I could have lost them all if not for you.”

  Vernera reached up and cupped Orla's cheek; her eyes, too, were shimmering with tears. “You owe me nothing, my Queen. You made my old heart very happy today with the gift of my great-great-grandchildren.”

  They embraced and Vernera left the room. Orla walked over to the bed and pulled a chair closer. She was not going to leave Sterling's side until she woke again.

  ***

  Sterling stretched languidly, as she rolled over onto her back to look up at the bright sky above. The seasons were changing, but there was still a slight chill to the day. She stifled a yawn and sat up. She was alone…again. It did not bother her much anymore. She knew they were nearby. They would never leave her alone in the woods. She pulled the large basket closer and rummaged through it. She pulled out chucks of cheese, bread, a leg of pork and a flask of sweet, apple cider. They were always hungry when they returned. She was concentrating on setting out the food when she heard a twig snap behind her. Her hands stilled for a moment, before she continued slicing up the bread and cheese.

  Her sharp hearing picked up a soft footfall and she smiled. This was getting too easy. The next moment, she rolled to the side and shot to her feet, her sword in her hand. Three pairs of eyes looked up at her from furry faces.

  “I am almost completely sure that it was Drusa who stepped on the twig,” she said, as she sheathed her sword. “Bion, you will have to learn to lighten your step.” She went to sit on the blanket, her back turned to the three wolf pups. “And Hlif, you will get yourself killed going hunting with these two. Your lunch is ready.”

  She looked over her shoulder to see the cubs transform. They had entered their bedchamber one night, after a torrid lovemaking in the woods, to find three small pups curled up in the middle of their bed. Orla's face was a mixture of shock, regret, and immense pride. For a long while, they had stood there watching their children sleep. That was three summers ago, when the triplets were only four. Since then, Orla had taken them out to the woods regularly to go on runs and sometimes to hunt small prey. On the days that she was not needed in Senate meetings, Sterling accompanied them.

  Today was such a day.

  With the transformation complete. The three came over to her and each kissed her cheek. She cuddled each of them close and planted a kiss on their foreheads.

  “Your clothes are over there. Then come and eat. You must be hungry.”

  Bion rushed to grab his clothes and quickly shrugged into them. Amongst other Ulvs they seemed unruffled by their nakedness, but the moment an outsider was near, their human sense of modesty kicked in. Fully dressed, Bion came to sit next to her and Sterling put an arm around him, kissing his crown. He was big for his age. He would surely be taller than her in a few summers. She had a soft spot for her eldest and only boy, but what attracted her to him, even more, was the fact that he was an exact replica of Orla. Bion had the same pale-blue eyes and midnight-dark hair. It was obvious that he would be a very attractive man one day, just like his grandfather. He was the closest to her and they spent almost every chance they could get on the training field.

  “May I have something to drink, Mother?” a soft voice asked.

  “Of course, my love,” Sterling cooed and grinned when her daughter blushed. Drusa was Orla's favorite. Smaller in stature than her other siblings, the little redhead was more interested in reading and healing than sword fighting. If she was not dragging Orla around the woods to gather roots for medicine, or locked up in the blacksmith's hut with Orla, Drusa was reading with Mesmeria. The petite girl was even-tempered and not once had Sterling seen her temper around another person. Mesmeria was of the belief that little Drusa might just be the heir Karas needed.

  Sterling handed the goblet to Drusa. “Do you want more cheese?”

  The red locks bobbed as she nodded, a brilliant smile on her face. Sterling smiled back and added two extra slices of cheese on her daughter’s plate. “I would like some. Thank you, Mother.”

  With her two eldest served and busy eating, Sterling's eyes swept the area looking for her lastborn. The child moved like a shadow and could disappear just as fast. Hlif was the wildest of all her offspring. Just like Bion, she was tall for her age and sturdy. Whereas Bion resembled his mother, Hlif was the spitting image of Cybralle, who doted on the little hellion. True to Vernera's prediction at her birth, Hlif lived for sword fighting. At seven summers, she already ranked high as one of Karas' best swordfighters. All that was thanks to her grandmother, who painstakingly imparted every little skill she had onto her granddaughter. Although still the Commander of the Royal Army, Sterling doubted she would hold that position for long. With only seven more summers to go, Hlif would be would surely start to challenge her for the post.

  “Where did Hlif go?” she asked the other two.

  “She probably went back to swim with mother.”

  “She must not be that hungry then,” she said as she fixed a plate for Orla. Soft steps sounded, and Orla stepped out of the wood, carrying her dripping wet daughter on her broad shoulders. She set the girl on her feet, who came running to settle herself in Sterling's lap. Sterling went about serving her daughter
, as she watched Orla lower herself on the blanket. Orla gave each of her children a gentle kiss, before she gratefully took the plate Sterling held out to her.

  “Thank you, my love,” she said softly, the look in her eyes intimate as her hand lingered on Sterling's. Sterling smiled and accepted the kiss from Orla.

  “You are most welcome,” she murmured against Orla's lips. “Now eat. I know how hungry you get after the change.”

  Orla immediately dug into her food and Sterling sat back, happy to watch her family enjoy the simple meal. She was happy. More happy than she could ever express.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Stein Willard

  Stein started writing at the age of thirteen after feeling cheated by the ending of a novel she was reading. She took the novel and rewrote it from the ending back to the front, adding 200 more pages to it. Up until then she's only written in her native language, Afrikaans, a derivation of the Dutch language.

  In 2007, she decided to experiment by writing a few short stories in English. By pure accident, she came across platforms on the Internet to publish her work and was encouraged by a friend to try and post some of her stories.

  Stein resides in Windhoek.

  Connect with Stein online:

  Email: steinwillard80@gmail.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/stein.willard

  OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR

  The Guardian Series

  A Guardian's Touch

  A Guardian's Love

  A Guardian's Passion

  A Guardian's Salvation

  The Stone Warrior Series