by Pelaam
“This is yours, Storm.” Rain finally spoke, touched Ceron’s shirt again, and looked over at Storm.
“Ceron’s was torn when he was assaulted by a man from his village. I gave him mine.” Storm tilted his chin up as he met his father’s gaze.
“You don’t think I’m good enough for your son,” Ceron whispered softly.
“I have not said so, have I?” Rain looked at Ceron and Storm saw the flicker of surprise in his father’s eyes at the sight of Ceron’s drooped shoulders. His people were used to arrogance, disdain, and superiority; deference was not usual. “Look at me, boy.” Rain tilted Ceron’s chin so they could gaze into one another’s eyes.
Without speaking, Rain ran his fingers down Ceron’s slender arms, cupped the thin hands, turning them to examine the fingers, calloused from hard work. The scents of grain and flour that were part of Ceron told him what Ceron did as work.
Wordlessly Rain removed Ceron’s threadbare hood. Storm heard the soft sounds of appreciation from those nearest to them. Red-gold hair fell past Ceron’s shoulders and emphasised his exquisite bone structure.
“What of your parents?” Rain frowned as tears welled in Ceron’s eyes.
“They failed to survive the winter before last, sir. The doctor would no longer come to us when they seemed to be failing, and we could not meet his demands for payment. I survived thanks to my grandmother. Her cottage is a little way off yonder on the outskirts of the forest.”
“I know it and Vevina. She has never turned away one of my kind.” Rain nodded slowly.
Sliding an arm around Ceron’s waist, Storm met his father’s gaze. He had done all he could to ensure Rain would hear, see, and scent his love for Ceron and know that between them it was not merely surface lust, but love that was deep and steadfast.
“Bide here a moment.” Rain walked away, taking Ceron’s hood with him.
“There are so many people here. I had no idea this place was home to such a large number of Wolven.” Ceron’s voice was filled with awe as he looked into Storm’s eyes.
“Father decreed all must be here today. No one was to be abroad, not even hunting, as he has important news for the pack. That was why I had to bring you back. Even I could not stay away. And I wanted to make the announcement of our engagement in front of my entire pack.”
Smiling as Ceron huddled closer, Storm looked up to see his father returning, his mother at Rain’s side. However, they were intercepted by Nightshade, one of the women of the pack, before they reached him and Ceron.
Trying not to be obvious, Storm twitched his ears, angling them to try and pick up the conversation that Ceron would be unable to hear.
“What is this, Rain?” Nightshade spoke angrily, her hands on her hips as she leaned forward toward Rain.
“It seems my son brought his mate to meet the family, Nightshade,” Rain replied.
“What of my daughter? What about Moss? She was supposed to be the intended mate for Storm. You said as such.”
“What I said, was that I would consider her suitable, but the choice was my son’s. Nothing more, Nightshade. If you gave her any other indications, then the fault lies with you.” As the silver-haired female turned away, she angrily hissed something that even Storm’s keen hearing couldn’t decipher, then his parents came over to them.
Rain smiled at Ceron as he indicated the woman at his side. “This is Ceron, mate-to-be of our son. Ceron this is Shade, my mate and mother of Storm. Welcome to our pack.”
“Welcome, Ceron.” Shade stepped forward and embraced Ceron. Smiling at Storm, Rain nodded. Storm was elated and the twins bounced around him like eager cubs, hugging him and slapping his back.
Some will be less happy. Storm spared a quick glance in the direction of Nightshade whose glare in his direction was angry and hate-filled.
“While I make my announcement to the pack, your mate-to-be can select a better hood than this.” Rain turned the threadbare garment over and over in his hand. “There are a couple laid out in the caravan. My preference would be for the red one,” he spoke quietly, looked directly at Ceron, and reached to touch Ceron’s hair.
“It’s a beautiful colour, and so unusual.”
As Ceron blushed delightfully, Shade also ran a hand down Ceron’s hair. Rain continued speaking to the younger man. “Shade will look after you, Ceron. Afterward, we can drink some voda to celebrate and set a date for your wedding to our son.”
Unable to contain his elation any longer, Storm grasped Ceron around the waist, lifted him up and spun him around, both of them laughing aloud with joy. Dusk and Twilight bayed loudly.
This was the happiest day of Storm’s life.
Chapter Five
Returning to his village, Ceron was warm from his new, thick red hood, the voda he had drunk, and the welcome from Storm’s family. He thought back over all Rain had told him.
There would be a formal ceremony to recognise his position as Storm’s mate, the date to be decided. There was only thing left for him alone to decide upon: whether he would continue with his work in the village. Ceron wanted to contribute to his new family, and still had his grandmother to consider. I’m no hunter, furrier, or weaver.
At the sound of the village bell, Ceron groaned. Already the street was filling with people gathering for a meeting that would be held in the village square. With a sigh he went to see what was happening.
As the villagers gathered around, Ceron saw Torrin talking animatedly to the town’s current burgher. Torrin was only recently returned from his time in the town and Ceron already wished the woodsman was back there. He shuddered at the sight of the dark and evil look on the big man’s face. With his slight build, it was easy for Ceron to slip through the modest crowd and get closer to hear what was being said.
Standing and listening, Ceron fingered the warm, deep-red hood that Rain and Shade had both insisted he take. He drew some of the thick material to rub against his face, and closed his eyes dreamily, as he pretended it was Storm’s furred hand caressing him. Then he started at Torrin’s booming voice.
“If it hadn’t been for Sulwyn happening along, Urian might have been killed. The doctor said that the marks on his arm and back are claw marks. It had to be a Wolven. They’re becoming dangerous animals and you need to get them to move away from decent folk like us!”
Torrin’s words were greeted by a murmur of assent that Ceron noticed was led by Torrin’s men: Sulwyn, Tudor, and those otherwise employed by the woodsman. As the burgher confirmed the time of the attack, Ceron’s eyes opened wide.
Pushing himself forward he spoke up. “Then it couldn’t have been a Wolven. They were all in their camp as their Alpha ordered. He made sure he did a check of his people to verify all were present. No Wolven was abroad at that time today.”
“Are you certain, Ceron?” The burgher looked over at him. “Can you be certain that all were in their camp?”
“I’m certain.” Ceron blushed at being the focus of attention. The townsfolk had moved aside to enable him to be clearly seen and heard.
“And how would you know?” Torrin’s voice was sly.
“I got a new hood from them today.” Ceron rubbed the fabric lightly between his fingers. “Vevina, my grandmother, exchanged some of her vegetables and baking for it.” Torrin wasn’t the only one who would know he could not have afforded something so well-made himself.
“Your grandmother lives not far from their camp.” The burgher rubbed at his chin. “She’s closer to the Wolven than anybody. Has she been having any problems with the Wolven as Torrin claims has happened to him?”
“None, sir,” Ceron was able to reply truthfully. “My grandmother is liked and respected by Rain and his pack.”
“As she is here, my boy.” The burgher beamed at him. Then he looked out at the gathered crowd and raised his voice. “I will discuss these events with the sheriff and see what can be done to establish who was responsible for the foul attack on Urian. He never saw his assailant. Until then, I s
uggest that anyone needing to go into the woods finds a companion to accompany them. I will call another meeting when I have further news for you.”
It was clear that was the signal for the meeting to end. Ceron stood for several minutes, lost in thought as the crowd melted away. Realising he was alone, Ceron headed slowly toward the mill and his attic room. However, before he reached its safety, he was caught from behind and spun around. Held tightly by his upper arms, Ceron stared into Torrin’s unfriendly face.
“You seem on very friendly terms with the Wolven, Red.” The big woodsman tightened his grip around Ceron’s arm.
“I-I occasionally m-meet them when visiting Grandma,” Ceron stuttered slightly, the ferocity of the other man’s gaze making him shudder. He tried to pull away as Torrin fingered his hood; the man rubbed his thick hand against the skin of Ceron’s cheek as he did.
“Exchanging vegetables for a hood as well-made as this?” Torrin’s voice dropped in timbre. “Some might be fool enough to believe it. I think you’ve been whoring yourself.”
“I have not!” Ceron’s face flushing crimson at the insinuation.
He almost wished he had not denied it so vehemently as Torrin’s face grew sly. To his shock, a hand smothered his mouth as another began to fondle where only Storm’s hand was permitted. He tried unsuccessfully to writhe away from the unwelcome touch.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Torrin leaned closer. “I wouldn’t want someone else to beat me to taking that lush, ripe arse of yours. It gets me all hot and bothered just thinking about having you.”
The words were spoken with a rasp of pure lust. Torrin released Ceron’s mouth, but before Ceron could draw breath to cry out, Torrin pinched his buttocks sharply. Ceron’s gasp of pain was smothered by Torrin’s ravenous mouth. Ceron tried to pull back as his mouth was despoiled by a slick intruder. He did the only thing he could think of. He bit down hard; there was a bellow of pain and rage from the bigger man.
His face contorted with rage, Torrin drew back his fist, but the punishing blow Ceron expected never came as a blessed voice called out.
“Ceron is that you still down there? It’s time you were in. I won’t want to hear about tiredness in the morning.” The miller’s wife shouted down from where she leaned out of a window.
“Yes, Mistress Carys, it’s me. Please open the door,” Ceron shouted back, almost sagging with relief.
“I’m on my way down, Ceron.” Her voice grew faint as she ducked back inside.
“There’ll be another time when it’s just you and me, Red.” Torrin growled the words, the threat apparent in his voice. “Then I’ll take what I want, and no man will stop me.”
Taking deep breaths, Ceron watched Torrin and one of his men, who had been hidden behind the woodsman, hurry away before the miller’s wife could open the door. That was his second lucky escape from the woodsman. Perhaps moving into the pack’s camp is my only real option.
“It wasn’t wise to naysay Torrin.” Carys opened the door and she ushered Ceron safely inside. “He isn’t a man to cross.”
“But it couldn’t have been the Wolven, Mistress Carys.” Ceron was touched that the woman was so concerned for him. “They were all at their meeting with Rain when Urian was attacked and the Burgher said he didn’t see his attacker. “
“Perhaps so.” Carys shrugged. “I’ve never had any trouble with the Wolven.” Her face grew thoughtful. “Mayhap Torrin is thinking if they were to move on he could let his rangy pigs loose in that field. There’s a tiny piece of land he owns that the Wolvens’ field backs onto. If he got his pigs onto it immediately after the Wolven left, he’d claim occupier’s rights to call it his own. It’s free land otherwise.”
“Perhaps.” Ceron rubbed his arms where he’d been held by Torrin. He hadn’t known the woodsman owned any land, just the large house Torrin lived in.
“Wait here a minute.” Carys looked at him with a worried gaze and hurried away.
Ceron was cold and realised he was trembling and wondered if he looked as bad as he felt. He wished Storm was there to hold him and keep him warm. He would miss his lover that night. He smiled gratefully as Carys returned after a minute with a deep bowl of sweet tea and a large scone.
“Take these upstairs and have them before you settle down.” She patted Ceron’s shoulder and smiled kindly.
“Thank you,” Ceron whispered.
He carefully ascended the steep, winding staircase to his garret bedroom. Setting the food and drink down, Ceron stretched out on his bed. Sipping at the tea and nibbling at the scone, it suddenly struck Ceron that perhaps there was a rogue Wolven. Yet Rain had said all his people were present at the meeting.
Ceron was confused. It was something he would need to discuss with his lover. Because if the attacks were not by Wolven, then who was responsible?
Chapter Six
Heading to his grandma’s cottage, Ceron and Storm walked hand-in-hand, occasionally stopping to kiss and cuddle, but nothing more. “I will come for you at the usual time,” Storm promised as they kissed at the edge of Ceron’s grandmother’s vegetable garden. “My family is patrolling the forest. While you visit, I’ll join them. Under my father’s decree, which is the mirror of your burgher’s, none of my people are to be out alone.”
“Grandma will be sorry you won’t come in.” Ceron nuzzled his lover.
“I’m sorry, precious. But it’s for the best.” Storm kissed Ceron’s cheek. “Enjoy your visit.”
While Ceron headed along the path toward the cottage door, Storm walked back to the forest. Ceron sighed. Storm was right. It was better for him to be with his family. The last thing Ceron wanted was for any harm to befall the man he loved.
Knocking on the cottage door, Ceron was surprised when his grandma did not answer. He wondered if perhaps she was feeling the chill and was ill. The door was always unlocked and he pushed it open calling out to her. Puzzled by the lack of reaction, Ceron stepped deeper inside. There was no one in her living room, although the fire was lit and the room warm.
“Grandma? Are you in there?” he shouted as he tapped on the bedroom door before opening it and peering inside.
The room was empty. About to turn back into the living area, Ceron thought he heard a thud from the closet. He moved forward then screamed as he was lifted easily and thrown onto the bed.
“No Grandma, Red, just you and me,” Torrin growled in Ceron’s ear.
Desperately, Ceron tried to buck the bigger body off but only succeeded in making the older man laugh cruelly. He was flipped, as if no more than a child, to look up into Torrin’s leering face. He cried out, in pain and fear, as Torrin tore his clothing open and raked his rough, jagged nails down Ceron’s bared chest. He realised the man was trying to make it look as though he had been attacked by a Wolven as the man’s teeth bit down on his defenceless nipples.
He screamed Storm’s name but it was cut short by a blow to his face so hard that Ceron’s world went grey. He felt Torrin working at his leggings, but was powerless to resist as they were opened, and yanked down to mid-thigh. Torrin pinched and bit at him, again. He was marking Ceron before mounting him.
Dimly, Ceron heard the mournful cry of a Wolven close by and Torrin froze. Drawing on the vestiges of his strength, Ceron lashed out, trying to dislodge the bigger man. He earned another vicious blow for his troubles. As Ceron descended into blackness, the last thing he heard was the sound of something crashing through the window.
§ § §
Howling his fury, Storm flew through the window snarling and slavering. All he thought of was protecting his mate. Torrin had the greater height and weight, but he was still no match for a Wolven. Storm was almost feral from fear and fury, and used his teeth and claws to protect his mate.
He rolled Torrin off the bed, and they crashed onto the floor fighting furiously. Torrin produced a thin, deadly blade, and tried to use it against him, succeeding only in raking it down Storm’s arm. With a howl of pain, Storm knocked it from t
he human’s grasp, and hit the man with all his strength. Torrin went limp beneath him.
Slowly Storm eased himself from the inert body, gasping with his exertions. He had no idea whether Torrin was dead or alive. However, before he had time to check or see to his mate his arms were grasped and twisted cruelly behind his back, and a stunning blow was delivered to the back of his head. He went limp, too dazed to fight.
“What do we do, Sulwyn?” A man’s fear-filled voice came from behind him.
“We hang the Wolven, and make sure the boy and old woman are dead just like Torrin intended. Then there will be no one to gainsay what happened. If Torrin lives, all well and good, and if he’s dead then he was killed trying to protect the boy and we killed the beast responsible. Hasten, Tudor. We need to get him to that tree at the edge of the old woman’s garden.”
Despite his struggles, Storm, already exhausted by his fight with Torrin, lacked strength enough to break free of the grip of the two burly humans. Thick rope was looped around his wrists and pulled tightly.
Helpless, he howled urgently, hoping his family or any members of his pack might be close enough to come. If these men succeeded in killing him then his beautiful mate would be next.
He continued to resist as he was dragged toward a tree where more rope, formed into a noose, dangled ominously. In the distance, Storm saw his father running toward him as if possessed. His cousins, Dusk and Twilight, were overtaking Rain, and a couple of the men from the village were running as best they could to keep pace. But as fast as they all ran, and as hard as Storm resisted, he was shoved up onto a rock and held in place by Tudor as Sulwyn wrapped the noose around his neck. There was no way, even at the speed his father and cousins ran, that they were going to reach him in time. He gave an agonised howl. No parent should have to bear witness to their child’s death.
§ § §
Pushing his pain aside, Ceron sprinted from his grandmother’s house. Storm. Storm. Storm. His beloved’s name was a mantra to give him strength. He hurtled forward, reaching Storm just as he was pushed off the rock on which he had been forced to stand. Ceron grasped his mate around the waist to prevent the noose from choking Storm. He willed himself to bear his love’s heavier weight and keep him alive.
