Werelord Thal: A Renaissance Werewolf Tale (69 page)

When Altea went back inside, Thal said,
“Mileko, take this deer to trade for supplies for our journey.
We’ll leave when you get back.”

“Very good,” Mileko said, looking the closest
to happy that anyone had seen him.

“Regis, Raphael, and Carlo will go with you,”
Thal said.

“Why?” Mileko demanded, glancing unhappily at
the musicians.

“So you can get them a drink,” Thal said, and
his friends heartily approved.

“They will attract attention,” Mileko
argued.

“Then make sure they’re not memorable,” Thal
said with a meaningful look.

“We’ll be good,” Raphael said and Carlo
nodded.

Regis had easily guessed that Thal’s motives
went beyond merely getting him a mug of beer. “Mileko, don’t be
dense. Our friend Thal needs some time alone with his lady,” he
whispered and winked at Thal.

Thal hated the thought that he might be
blushing and maintained a stern glower. He cut off some meat for
them to cook.

When they shared a meal Thal handed Altea
pieces of roast that he cut for her. With both hands and some
creative finger placement she was able to feed herself now.

His friends cheerfully helped Mileko pack the
deer carcass onto his horse and hustled him out of camp. Altea was
surprised when she saw them all go.

Thal’s back was to her. He was banking their
fire so it could be saved for later. When he brushed off his hands
and turned, her nervous excitement reflected his own.

“Do you feel well enough for a walk today?”
he asked.

She could only nod. He approached her and
carefully took her hands into his.

“I want you with me always,” he said.

“Sometimes I think your mother’s magic has
bound us,” she said.

“I doubt she had matchmaking on her mind when
she recalled me from the forest. It’s your magic that claims me,”
he said.

She hugged him, and he kissed her. Warm
arousal thawed the restraint that had kept them apart.

“Come with me,” he said.

Arm in arm they strolled. Thal took her into
a grove of trees where the air was especially cool. At its heart a
great and gnarled tree much thicker than the others pushed past the
canopy with a glorious green crown that overlooked the other trees.
Its roots bulged and twisted in every direction and heaps of old
leaves made soft beds around its mossy feet.

Thal spread his wolf fur upon the leaves and
drew Altea down on it. She leaned back against the soft fur with
Thal beside her. Their mouths met and they descended into the
joyous place where their cravings could be satisfied.

Thal caressed her face and breasts and
loosened her clothing. He ran his hand through her long hair while
kissing her neck. She moaned and ran her crippled hands down his
arms. Her squirming body beckoned him with needy lust, and he felt
ready to burst out of his pants.

Gasping, he pulled away from her and moved
back onto his knees. He took her foot and pulled off a shoe and
then he removed her other shoe. Altea watched him with dilated eyes
as he ran a hand up her leg underneath her skirt and began to draw
down a stocking. The gentle slide of his fingers down her bare leg
made her shiver with anticipation. Every new place he touched made
her want to know more of what he could do.

After both stockings were off, his strong
hands moved up her thighs and pushed her skirt up all the way. His
caresses lingered on the tender softness of her inner thighs. She
arched her back. Her slack-faced willingness invited him to claim
the prize his body demanded.

He rubbed a palm upon her pubic area. The
coarse curly hairs beneath the thin fabric welcomed him to her
secret place. His thumb slid into her warm crevice. He smiled at
her sweet high pitched cry and soon felt moisture in her
underclothes. He drew them off and then lay beside her again and
unlaced her shirt. When he took it off her, he was mindful of her
delicate thumbs as he pulled her hands through the sleeves.

The bindings on her chest came off next.
Significant bruising remained but was much lighter. On both sides
of her body dots of fresh red scars started at her shoulders and
ran down to her thighs. Thal nuzzled the bounty of her breasts and
spent time drawing each nipple into his mouth. Her gasps and sighs
were musical. He wanted each peak of pleasure to be an apology for
the pain he had caused, but it was more than that. He wanted to
honor her. She deserved this gentle invitation to ecstasy and so
did he. Everyone did.

Awkwardly with her injured hands she pulled
him back to her lips. Thal shoved her skirt off. She kicked away
the tangle of fabric and tugged at his clothes.

He stood up and unfastened his clothing
himself, knowing it would be painful to make her fumble with
it.

The light in her hungry eyes was hard to
interpret when his erection popped out of his dropping pants. She
was both afraid and impatient. Thal fell to his knees and pulled
her legs around his hips. The scent of her helpless excitement
demanded that he express all his male passion.

Careful not to put his weight upon her torso
he slowly penetrated her. Altea was tense and tight and trembling
but he inexorably pressed himself inside her.

His groaning deepened as she enveloped him
completely. He had never felt so safe and free of care. In tandem
they moved against each other and discovered the nuanced inner
pleasures of their new connection. Their mutual momentum
accelerated until Thal was thrusting at her rapidly.

She cried out and he paused, fearing he was
hurting her. But she quickly shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt,” she
encouraged, and he resumed. He found a rhythm that made her cry out
many times until he could concentrate no more. He leaned back so
that he would not accidently press down on her and then gave into
the primal demands of his lust. Her squeals goaded their ecstasy
until Thal gasped at his finale.

The pleasure erased his cares for a timeless
moment. As his body pulsed inside her throbbing hot wetness he
crushed his mouth against her, grateful for her physical
generosity.

Finally they separated. His head was on the
fur next to hers. They petted each other’s naked bodies while
catching their breaths.

Altea eventually broke their adoring silence.
“You didn’t ruin my life for this is the most beautiful and alive I
have ever felt,” she said.

He smiled, sharing in the sentiment. “I’m so
happy you’re with me. I need you,” he said.

Altea had never felt needed before. She
pressed her face into his chest and kissed his hard pectoral. A
thin sheen of cooling sweat vented his inner fire.

“We have a long road ahead. There will be
dangers,” he warned.

“You will protect me,” she said with great
trust.

Thal took her chin. “Yes, but I must also
teach you to protect yourself,” he said.

The notion excited her. The world had damned
her but the blessing of heretofore forbidden possibilities awaited
her.

They returned to lovemaking. The comfort and
pleasure of their safe union made their lives new again. The fear
and violence that had brought them to this place were diminished by
the trust and kindness nurtured by their shared ecstasy.

In the cool shade they napped until a green
acorn fell from high up and hit Thal’s thigh.

“Ow!” he cried and picked up the nut.

Altea awoke and said, “It’s a good sign.
Something good will grow from our joining.”

He tucked the acorn into a pocket of her
rumpled skirt. “Keep this to remember this day. Mayhap you shall
have a home again where you can plant it,” he said.

His words made her think of the home she had
lost. Her chest of finely crafted linens had been packed with false
hopes and was gone forever. She tried not to think about her
beloved handiwork that would never furnish her home.

“I have nothing to give you,” she
lamented.

“You give me everything. Your love reminds me
of what is good in humanity. Too often does brutish greed and
hateful killing lure a man to bad deeds,” Thal said.

“You killed for me,” she pointed out.

Thal did not like that fact. He sat up and
reached for his shirt. “You were put in that cage by cruel men
meaning to make others cruel,” he said. Standing up, he pulled up
his pants. “We must be vigilant to avoid such traps,” he added.

“How will you not get caught when we travel?”
she worried.

“The musicians attract the most attention,
and people want to like me. We’ve done this before. Plus Mileko has
skills that I don’t fully understand but he will help us. My father
has sent him for this purpose,” Thal explained.

“And what will people see in me? A harlot?”
she asked.

“No!” Thal said. He helped her stand up.
“People will see my wife.”

To his dismay, she shook her head. “No priest
will do the ceremony,” she lamented.

He pitied her shame that she could not avoid
because of her upbringing. Drawing her close, he gestured around
the grove of trees. “Is not your God’s creation the finest temple?
Did we not join here in joy? I need only your consent and true
acceptance to be bound to you. This I promise,” he said.

In Thal’s world she was not judged for
indulging in the physical expression of her heart. Perhaps he gave
her more than she had lost. “And I shall call you husband,” she
said.

Their gentle kiss finished their ceremony.
And supported by the courage of the other they set forth upon the
road to the castle of Sarputeen.

******

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Journey of the Hunted: Werewolves in the Renaissance
Book 2

Good news! Werelord Thal has launched the
Werewolves in the
Renaissance series
. It continues in
Journey of the
Hunted: Werewolves in the Renaissance 2
.

Releasing November 8, 2014

Return to the dangerous world of the 16th century
Holy Roman Empire and join Thal and Altea as they make a desperate
attempt to reach Sarputeen. He lives in the castle Vlkbohveza, but
Thal must cross Bohemia and Moravia to reach his father in the
remnants of the Kingdom of Hungary. But more than the rising price
on Thal’s head threatens him. Tekax, a rival sorcerer to Sarputeen,
now knows of Thal’s existence and will do anything to stop him from
reaching his father, even if it means working the darkest sorcery
and creating an undying fext immune to werewolves.

Special Offer

Look for the preorder special on
Journey of the
Hunted
at your favorite retailer. Preorder it now for
automatic delivery on November 8.

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The group continued. The banter of Carlo and
Raphael subsided and everyone walked in thoughtful silence until
Thal suddenly burst into a run and shouted, “Pistol, no!”

The small brown and white dog trotted back
into the road. Fresh dirt coated his nose and paws. He went
obediently to his master’s heels and they waited for the others to
catch up.

“What is it?” Regis asked as he arrived
first.

Thal pointed into the tall grass. The trees
were few in this spot. Timber had been harvested in recent years.
Among the stumps was a mound of soil with a crude wooden cross
stuck in it. The green sprouts on the grave were still small,
attesting to its recent digging. Thal could detect a whiff of dead
flesh. Pistol had only begun to disturb the burial and Thal was
glad that nothing had been uncovered.

Carlo and Raphael regarded the grave
sadly.

“I wonder who it could’ve been?” Raphael
murmured.

“A suicide maybe?” Carlo whispered. Such a
one would not have been allowed to be buried in a consecrated
churchyard.

Mileko came up leading the horse. His dark
hood shaded his eyes from the bright sun. The cowl accentuated his
long nose that protruded above his thin mouth.

“It is likely that someone simply died on
their journey and their companions had little choice but to bury
him,” he said. He was not spooked by the grave like the musicians,
who seemed to feel everything and see a story everywhere.

Altea from her vantage point higher on the
horse had a good view of the lonely burial.

“The grave is small,” she observed, and
imagined the dead child. Out of habit she raised her hand to cross
herself, but then aborted the action.

She looked away from the grave and saw that
Thal was watching her.