Snippet 3- With An Heir (Narmon)

I had her.

She was still mine, so close and supple. I knew that the Elders would know she was imprinted wrongly to my brother.  I knew with the death of the Alpha, there would be no one aged enough with the discernment to oppose this. Tzipporah, as an amshun could only be with an Alpha. I am the oldest. I was the stronger of the four of my brothers.  I had been here with mother, and father. I had fetched water, listened to stories and learned how to lead. I knew of the legends of our people, of the land we were birthed out and from.

I knew that there would only one Alpha. Father had been grooming me for this for a century and more. There was an affliction that come over both he and his brother. There was this virus that had killed his brother, my uncle. No one knew what it was, where it had come. I felt kisses along my shoulders. I looked at my walnut brown face in the mirror.  “Lana, please.” I heard a low chuckle along my shoulder. “You always tell me that, I didn’t think you would be so distracted now.” I turned to face her, her ebony skin and dreadlocked hair enticing me all over again. I kissed her, bold and slow. Tasting the inside of her mouth my tongue. I needed the distraction. I needed her. I need not to think. My thoughts kept swimming with thoughts of Tzipporah and how to win her heart again. The fact we were still connected meant I had a chance. No matter now minute, there was still a chance.

I moved Lana against the wall, cupping her breasts as I moved my mouth from hers. Lana moaned as she had nights before. She wanted  not to think as well. Lana had let me read her thoughts, hear them as Tzipporah would never let me. I growled in her ear as she moaned name as I marked her once more. I bit into her neck, licking the wound so it would heal. She yelped as she moved my hand between the wetness of her thighs. Lana grinded into my wrist and I held her against the wall by her left shoulder.

Farron had marked Tzipporah, weakening the bond we had. He was erasing me from her memory, I could feel it. I fought it. I still called to her when she called to me in the vulnerable moments. She would be home soon. She would be mine. Farron would not take her from me again. I scooped her in my arms, kissed her on the way back to my bed, and make the stars witness the ache within me I had to subdue. I lay Lana on the cream colored sheets and she squirmed as I scratched at her thigh. “Please, Narmon. Make the ache stop.” I crawled on top of her, sliding my length inside as she kissed me. “Make the ache stop, love.” I pulled myself from her mouth, and nipped at her bite. I felt her body open and the climax ripple from her ears. Indeed, the ache would be sated for now.

*******

I watched Lana breathe, with her back towards me. I traced her spine with my finger, watched her body recoil. I thought about speaking to the Council about Lana. I knew she was a hybrid. Her mother was human. It was a miracle she had survived as long as she had. When I met her years before, she was betroved to the second son of an Alpha in Zaire. She had run away and been dehydrated when my father, The Second, found her. The Council wanted to kill her because she was a hybrid. I defended her. I loved her then. I had taken her as a Chosen as soon as she was healed. Lana was the closest thing to a true love that I had. This was one of the reasons why I needed to have Tzipporah. My mother had told me there was a way to break the bond. “Dangerous, yes. Impossible, no.” But I needed an Alpha to do that! They were strong enough to channel and shield the energies that would manifest from the breaking.

By right, I was supposed to be the Third. Not Farron. He did not hold father’s hand, his Alpha’s hand as he died. What right did the Council have to usurp millennia of succession and ritual! I was supposed to be the Third, the Alpha. Not the Beta. I was the first born. Tradition said I should be next.

I leaned over and kissed Lana’s shoulder. Her warmth settled me. I closed my eyes, hoping Tzipporah wouldn’t be there again.

Snippet 2-With An Heir (Farron)

I felt him before he called her.

Tzipporah was mine. She had been since we were so much younger. I had phased in front of her. I had marked her. She was mine. Who did my brother think he was. I splashed river water on my face, thought of her cinnamon brown face. I thought of her hair, how she smelled always of jasmine. I though about the night I had counted the eyelashes on her right eye. She was mine.

I remembered the conversation I had with my father the week before. “Farron, I know he is after me. I want you to know the mantle is yours. I know you are the younger, but the mantle was yours.” I remembered how week he had sounded. The age then evident in his voice. I could  only picture him, attended to by his second wife, haunted by visions of my mother, Ariah. He sounded far away as he continued to speak. “Come home son. Come home.” I walked back to my cabin, the hallow, as Tzipporah called it. I wanted her near me.  I wanted the comfort of her body. I wanted her taste, I wanted to be inside her again. I needed her.

I tried to connect with her two morning ago, and I couldn’t get to her. I sent my essence form to her as a comfort.  I knew she could feel my pain. I needed her to know I was okay. The Open Plane was the only place I could have her, keep her safe from Narmon. I had to keep her safe from Narmon. “Not this time!” I felt the wolf inside of me shift and groan. I placed my hands on the ground, felt the heat radiate from my belly and down my arms. I closed my eyes, ready for the wolf to take over. I couldn’t handle the loss of my father, the Second–my Alpha as well as my Chosen.

I knew that Narmon still had attachment to her. I knew that with what she carried she was more  susceptible to that connection. My body began to phase, the hands that caught footballs, and freed slaves became paws. My nose a snout and heard my voice quiet and the growl come from my throat. It was easy to think in this form. It was easier to plan and think when I was hunting. I had noticed a group of rabbits along the other side of the river, and once I was fed. I could think.

******

I sat on the side of the full-sized bed. The bed Tzipporah and I picked out. I thought about the last time we were together. I thought about how ample her breasts were. How sweet her lips were. I thought about how she was on top me, all of me impaled inside her. “Tighten.” I had growled. I kept my right hand on the small of her back. I nipped at her chest. I felt her body open and her release imminent. “Please, love. Please!” With a firm swat on her rump, I heard her sing my name through the walls of this cabin. I knew what Narmon would try to do when we got home. I knew what the elders would say.  I knew that the mantle ritual would take one week.

I stared at light of the setting sun on my feet, still covered in grass and dirt. “Not this time brother. Not this time.”

Snippet 1-With An Heir (Tzipporah)

The Second was dead.

The mantle is was to be passed to Farron was to be made the Third on the next full moon. This was custom for weres of my land. The Second was the Alpha, and had been for a century and more. There was no disease or illness in him. The fact that he was gone from us, so soon, and so suddenly was devastating.

I felt his death, the weight of his loss before my phone rang in my house in Myrtle Beach. I knew who it was before I picked up the phone. I felt rocks settle into my stomach as I picked up the phone in my bedroom. I heard his voice, and all of me roared. “Love.” His voice was low, hungry. I felt heat wrap around me, like his arms were around me. I swallowed. “Narmon.” Silence. I heard him sniffle, and breathe. “What is it?” I forced my eyes open, the warmth of the connection was lulling, dizzing me. I sat on the side of the bed, willing myself to keep breathing. “You shouldn’t be calling me.” He didn’t answer me.

“Tzipporah.” It was a growl then. The same way he growled the first night we were together. The night where he found out I was his, I was his Chosen. The imprinting is always made stronger with lovemaking. I closed my eyes and laid back, the warmth caressing my neck. “You need to come home. You need to be here. You are an amshun.” I felt my eyes water. “The Second is dead. The Third is to be crowned. As the amshun, you need to be a part of the Council.”

I couldn’t breathe. I listened to him go on about the history of amshun, and weres. I heard him plead for me. The tears flowed down into my ears. His voice faded, as my mind went to the Open Plain. I saw Farron, focused on him and his dark skin, and his over six-foot-tall frame. I saw his beard, his gold eyes. I heard his voice louder as Narmon’s faded. “Tzipporah.”

My eyes opened. “Either I am getting you a plane ticket, or I am coming to throw you over my shoulder and bringing you to Nambia.” I stared at the ceiling. “Narmon, I will talk to Farron and we will be on our way. Give me a few days.” There was a low growl. I rolled my eyes. “I need a few days. I’ll be there.” I put the phone on the receiver. I rolled on my left side, closed my eyes searching Farron and the warmth again. I knew who I belonged to. I knew Farron felt what I did. I had no idea if he would confront me about it later.

I knew that he was out at his hallow, he had been since the death of his father. He had left me a note the morning it happened. No warning. No kiss. Just a note. I felt my chest ache. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see Narmon. I didn’t want to melt in his gold eyes.  I didn’t want him to touch me, see me or feel my presence on the plane.

I had to go home. And I had no choice.

Mate For Life (short short story)

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It was raining as he watched her skip over a puddle to her front door. Her hair was wet, but he could see her pecan brown face. He watched her fumble for her keys in her red bag, before going in. He had found her, with her scent he could never forget her. How could he? She was what, what whom he had sought for and wanted. As she entered the house, he fought the urge to watch over, by watching sneaking in to watch her sleep. He would announce himself to her soon enough. “Soon, dearest one.” He whispered. His mind went back to when he saw her three days ago. He was leaving work, it was just after sunset. She had with a coffee in one hand, glasses, reading a book. She sat In the back of Gill’s, smiled up at him. She had a heat that exuded from her. He sat across from her, soaking her up, taking her in. He motioned for one of the servers to come to his table.

He wasn’t hungry, just thirsty. A blue shirted red head named Callie came over. “Beer, please.” He said. “Budweiser, okay?” “That’s fine.” Callie dashed off, pencil behind her ear. He looked over at her again, noticing her eyes were brown. This scent he knew, his tribe leaders had told him and the other young men coming of age. It was a hint to whom was to be yours, they would always say. The inception, he said, will be unlike anything before and nothing since. You will know the one purposed for you. Their scent will be a clue. Legend, he thought. Fairy tales. It takes more to know someone than liking their perfume or cologne. That’s insane.

He watched her sip her coffee, her full lips wrapping around the blue mug. Her eyes closed. Her lashes were thick and dark. Her dark hair, framing her face. Her legs slender, muscles detailed under the blue pencil skirt she wore, ending in black ballet flats on her feet. He counted how many times her chest rose and fell. He sat and felt his heart all but stop. Callie dropped off this beer, asked him if he needed something else. He didn’t look up, but paid for his beer and well over with the twenty he gave. She looked over at him, smiled. Her eyes pulled him in. He held them for a moment, before she looked down again. She didn’t seem to notice or mind him staring at her. The blue wall above the brown paneling just made her stand out more. The want welled up with him, was beyond sexual. It was beyond possession. It was protection of what was his. This must have been the love the elders spoke of, that one would just know once they experienced it. She returned to her cup and her book. When the server brought her check, he watched her reach in her red bag to pay it. He watched the form of her arm and shoulder as she reached for her wallet. She got up, and he saw her full height and shape. He noticed the backs of her calves and her waist detailed by her skirt.

She tipped the server, and he watched her turn to leave. She smelled of violets and honeysuckle. His mouth began to water as he began biting his lip. She was it. He couldn’t explain it, it was too radical to talk about. He drew a ring around his Budweiser watching the foam. The heat creeping up the back of his neck, a low growl rumbled in chest. He got up to go to the bathroom, pushing past the blonde texting on her cell phone without looking up. He shut the door behind him, before going over to the sink. He gripped the front of the sink. He felt the pull in his shoulders, indicating the wolf was rising from him. “Not here. Not now.” Phasing in public was not unheard of, but with this new feeling, this unfounded inception, he was hesitant of his ability to control it. Hold it together, Michael. Hold it together. He looked up into his own changed reflection. The calm blue of his eyes, became their green-gold counterpart. He concentrated, willing to pull the wolf back in. Her I have to find her. Feeling steady, he smoothed his University of Miami shirt, smoothed his hair. His forehead glistened with new sweat, as his eyes reverted back. He had to talk to the elders. He had to have her. He would have her.

That need brought him to her apartment. He could find her in snow or desert. She was his now. His. He looked for her light to go out, remarking at the silhouette of his intended against the gold curtain of her bedroom. He remembered the shape of her hip. The rise of her breast as she turned from the window, and loved the way she shook her hair out before turning off the light. He closed his eyes, imagined her taste, her warmth underneath him. He even imagined what it would be like to phase in front of her and have her stroke his fur, or nestle her feet in it. The inception will be like no other love you will ever have. The elders spoke this to generations of young males of their pack. There would always be eye rolling along the males, the girls accepted it as medicinal gospel. “Scoff now,” the elders would say, “when you experience it? It will be impossible to explain it or pull away from.” He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror again. His eyes were phasing. “Soon.” He said. “Soon.”
(This may be the start of a novel…Stay tuned)

[originally written 9/7/2018]​