The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

The King, Quell and Wistan come to a halt, Coral stops several yards back. She keeps her chin down but is able to look up enough to see a stunning woman walk down the long ramp leading from the second floor; dressed in flowing white fabric, her long, wavy blonde hair falls down her shoulders and almost to her waist. She has a beautiful smile and with bright blue eyes the resemblance between her and Quell is obvious. It is only when she hears the knocking of hooves does she realize that the white extending back from the woman is a soft fur hide with a matching wavy white tail. The Queen is a female centaur.

“You are late, my love,” the Queen says playfully, walking forward to kiss Rainer.

“Just a little trouble with an ox, my dear,” he says with a gentleness that Coral hasn’t heard before.

The Queen kisses each of her sons on the cheek. As she turns to lead them to another room she stops, her eyes landing on Coral, “And whom do we have here?” Her voice is pleasant but portrays a mild surprise with a hint of threat. The Queen walks towards her, waiting for an introduction.

Unsure if she is supposed to respond or not Coral keeps her mouth shut. She grabs the sides of her skirt and dips down into a courtesy.

“This maiden, my darling, is Coral Blackthorn. Wistan injured his leg while playing too roughly with Quell and we were fortunate enough to stumble upon her in the last town. She is a rather gifted healer and was gracious enough to join us,” Rainer words it carefully, as if she had a choice.

“A maiden healer,” the Queen says, truly surprised this time, “and such a beautiful creature at that. We are truly blessed to have you, Lady Coral,” she says rather sincerely.

Coral rises, glancing up to take in the Queen; she is surprised to find that they are roughly the same height, her body smaller, more like a pony than a horse yet that doesn’t make it any less nerve wracking, “Thank you, your majesty. But it is just Coral, I have no title.” Her voice is soft and small, portraying her obvious nervousness.

The Queen reaches out and tips her chin up with a gentle hand, “You do now, Lady Coral. We value all gifted creatures.”

Coral nods slightly, offering a smile in response. Her eyes catch movement from behind the Queen. A tall, handsome man walks down the ramp, first encountering Rainer; he shakes the centaur’s hand, clutching his shoulder. They smile warmly at each other. She watches the man do the same to Quell before wrapping Wistan up in rough hug. When he turns towards the Queen his eyes meet Coral’s and she gets a good look at him. His long, black, coarse hair is twisted into dreads gathered at the nape of his neck and his smooth, earthy brown skin off sets his deep brown eyes. He is dressed as elegantly as any she’s ever seen and when her eyes glimpse his wrists she sees that he doesn’t wear any cuffs.

With a smile, the Queen glances to the man, turning back to Coral, “Lady Coral, may I introduce my oldest son, Prince Vadim.”

Coral draws in a sharp breath, just able to contain her shock; it takes her a moment to process before she quickly drops down into another courtesy, “Please, forgive me sir.”

She hears a soft laugh, “There is nothing to forgive, Lady Coral, simply a pleasure to take and that is all mine.”

Rising, she offers a small nod in acknowledgement but doesn’t dare look up at him.

“Well,” the Queen says, “I believe the feast is a few hours from being ready. That should give all of you time to freshen up a bit and rest.” She turns to leave, walking beside Rainer. Wistan follows a length behind yet Quell remains.

“Come, maiden, I will show you to your quarters,” he says softly, standing in front of her.

“Please, brother, allow me,” Vadim interjects, resting his hand on Quell’s shoulder, “you have had a long day of travel and are no doubt ready to relax while I, on the other hand, have been waiting with bated breath for your return. It is the least I can do.”

Cautiously Coral looks up to see Vadim smiling at Quell, while Quell does not appear to be in as pleasant a mood as his brother. He glances to Coral-she thinks she senses a hint of worry in his stance. None the less, he agrees, “Thank you, Vadim. Lady Coral, I will see you again at the feast.” He gives her a pleasant half bow before reluctantly turning and following his parents.

Vadim rests his hand on his chest, tipping forward, “Please, mistress, follow me.”

Coral walks beside him; compared to the pace of his brothers he strolls leisurely down the hallway, making pleasant conversation with her, “It is truly a stroke of luck that my father was able to retain your talents for our kingdom. I know he has encountered healers before but none savvy enough to catch his eye-you must truly be a master of your craft, Lady Coral.”

She finds that she is even more nervous around him than the centaurs, “I do what I can to help any who need it, sir.”

“Please,” he says, smiling to her, “call me Vadim.”

She nods anxiously; his words reminding her of a similar encounter with Quell.

“May I ask, Coral-if I may be so bold-but how is it that such a fair maiden as yourself was… unattached to her community?” He chooses his words carefully, smartly.

Glancing at him for a moment, she deciphers the true meaning of his question, answering quietly, “I was due to be crowned with a garland at my town’s Celebration this year.”

“Celebration?” he asks, “I am afraid I am not familiar with this term.”

It surprises her a little as she assumed that everyone had a yearly Celebration, “Where I come from and all of the places that I know, well, up until now that is, each town holds a Celebration following the Atonement. The Celebration is the time in which everyone celebrates another year past, marking them another year older. We are not allowed to marry until we have surpassed our eighteenth Celebration, during which a maiden receives her garland and as my village is holding theirs-” it gets caught in her throat when she realizes it, “tonight, during which I would have earned my garland, so I was not available to receive offers of marriage when I was plucked by the King. That is why I was unattached. Am unattached.”

“How truly interesting,” he says, opening a door for her. He motions a nearby servant, the woman comes rushing over and curtseys, “Lady Coral will be staying here with us; can you please arrange for a bath to be drawn for her in these quarters? And some clothes too.”

The woman nods and rushes away; Vadim follows her into the bedchamber. Coral sees that her bag is already waiting for her, looking worn and faded, entirely out of place resting at the base of the elegantly carved wood wardrobe against one wall. There is a large fireplace with a roaring fire; the floor is covered in a massive plush rug. There are several pieces of furniture, all human sized; a desk and chair, a vanity, a taller table with a pitcher and basin. While there is a small four post bed, there is also a large mound of pillows and a rather oddly shaped piece of furniture she is not familiar with; it appears to be a plushly padded narrow table with wide legs angled outward. It reminds her of the stands a carpenter uses when sawing wood.

She can feel him watching her curiously; suddenly realizing she is alone in a room with a strange man, she is a bit on edge and tries to elongate the conversation, “Is that not how it is done here, Vadim? The Celebration?”

He smiles warmly, somehow quelling her fears instantly, “No, we do not do it as such though I could see the benefit. Here we measure one’s years down to the exact day, so the day that one is born is celebrated on the same day the following year. It means everyone has their own special day but that also means more celebrations. It can be tiresome, especially in the summer,” he smirks, dropping his gaze, “as there is little to do during the winter that is generally when babes are conceived.”

Shocked, she laughs before she can restrain it; sensing that she has a hearty sense of humor, he laughs as well.

A man comes in carrying a large wooden wash basin, generally used for washing large amounts of clothes; it is roughly three feet across. Vadim frowns, looking strikingly like a lighter shade of his father. The woman servant rushes in with a large piece of stitched leather to line the tub with, to prevent water from seeping out. Before the tub is set down a third servant rolls out a cow hide underneath it.

The woman comes over to apologize, “I beg your pardon, Prince Vadim, my Lady, but this is the best we could come up with on short notice. There are no actual wash tubs in the castle and I am pretty sure there is nothing in town that would be suitable. I shall have a chat with the blacksmith right away and have him fashion one from copper.”

Coral looks at the tub, happy enough that it is twice as wide as the one she used to use, “No, please that won’t be necessary. This will do just fine.”

The woman nervously looks from Coral to the Prince. He smiles at Coral, “It truly is no trouble, my lady.”

She shakes her head, the title still odd to her ears, “Nonsense-if there are no wash tubs in the castle then I wonder where you bathe, Prince?”

He laughs, “I bathe in the castle bathhouse with the rest of the centaurs.”This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

“All right, then I shall bathe there too,” Coral says.

Surprised, he looks at her curiously before turning to the woman, “Please, Gladys, would you fill it up with warm water for my lady?” After the servants disappear he turns back to Coral, “If that is what you wish in the future then I won’t stop you. I assumed that perhaps you would prefer something more private-my kind are a little less shy about nudity than humans and far more familiar with the nakedness of other centaurs than the nakedness of a fair maiden human such as yourself.”

She holds his gaze but something in the way he looks at her makes her blush and look away, “Please, forgive me, Prince Vadim.”

Motioning her towards a plush settee he waits for her to sit down before joining her, the shortness of the seat causing them to sit closer together than would be proper in a less intimate setting. He rests his arm on the back, angling his body to face her, “It is I that should beg your forgiveness, my Lady. There are times that I forget that I am human as well,” when she looks up at him he continues, “I suppose it was rather jarring for you to be introduced to me that way-and rather like my family to not tell you ahead of time. It does not happen often, perhaps once in a thousand but between centaurs there is a possibility for a human babe to be born, though the offspring, to my knowledge, is always female. They all treat me as if I am one of them and the humans as if I were a centaur but it doesn’t change the fact that every day of my life I have felt out of place. As a woman and a healer, being thrust into this lifestyle, I imagine you are perhaps the only one who could truly know what that is like.”