The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

She leans against his touch, not wanting wake up and spoil the moment. Reluctantly, she opens her eyes. The man standing before her, though the face is familiar, is completely transformed. He is dressed like proper royalty and for the first time she sets eyes on the Prince of Sceadu. Wearing a white button up shirt under a lush, deep green over coat and dark pants he seems suddenly out of place in the humble room. His blonde hair is brushed back perfectly, accentuating his handsome features.

Feeling completely infatuated with him, Mora blushes at her hunter, “You look… different.”

She sits up, sliding out of the bed. Mora can’t help but smile at him; she is looking forward to spending the afternoon alone with him in the carriage. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, feeling uneasy about how she looks at him. Rick clears his throat, turning to walk across the room as if he just remembered something. He lifts up a black velvet box from the couch and carries it back to Mora.

“The Queen sent over a dress for you to wear,” he sets the box on the bed and opens the lid.

Mora gasps, quickly covering her mouth. Rick mistakes her distaste for shock; he lifts the blood red dress out of the box. It unfolds neatly, the silky fabric flowing down to the ground. Rick tries to hand her the dress but she holds her arms close to her body, trying to find a polite way to decline, “That is… my mother’s color. It would be disrespectful for me to wear it…”

She tries to smile at him but bright color seems unnatural to her and makes her feel nervous. While she is used to seeing her mother in a red dress in her portrait, she has never seen the color on another person in her life.

“Well,” he appraises her for a moment before setting the dress on the bed, “I’m afraid unless you want to go in pants, there isn’t much choice… besides,” he leans in, brushing his lips against hers, “you should get used to wearing the color of a Derven Queen, Namora.” Rick touches her cheek, trying to dissipate her anxiety. He hovers near her for a moment, hoping that she will come around but when she still looks warily at the dress he realizes that it is something she will have to overcome alone. Though he worries that she might need help, he only offers her a smile before turning and leaving the room.

The thought of wearing red makes Mora’s stomach churn. Even though she is now free to choose whom she will spend her life with, she has begun to question if she is ready to be a Queen. Despite the fact that the cancelled wedding to King Irron was beyond her control, as is the inevitable war looming on the horizon, she feels selfish that the events unfolded in a manner that was amiable to her. Her conflicting feelings of the love she has for Rick and the love she has for the people of Derven make her wonder if she should have completely sacrificed herself and tried harder to keep the peace.

She busies herself by attending to her hair, brushing and twisting it as best as she can to hide the blood still soaked in it. Mora manages to pin it all back carefully before she takes off her night gown. Though her body quivers with panic she tries to tell herself that since she is in Sceadu, red is just a meaningless color. She forces herself to pick the dress up; it feels just like fabric. When her hands start to shake, Mora squeezes her eyes shut trying to imagine the color is anything but. She pictures a deep, luscious green that matches Rick’s jacket. The dress slides over her skin like a snake but she keeps the image of Rick in her mind. She is able to open her eyes and smile when it dawns on her that he will be the one to take her dress off.

It fits differently from the white one with a square cut neck, tight sleeves that stop at her elbows and a slender waist–the dress emphasizes her womanly features significantly. Upon gazing at herself in the mirror she is taken aback, now able to see for the first time that she bears a resemblance to her mother. Her body begins to calm down as the confidence seeps back into it. Smoothing the fabric around her waist, Mora speculates that the Queen’s dresser has a knack of picking out clothing to reinforce the events of a meeting.

She leaves the room, knowing this time that she will see it again. As she walks down the stairs with her head held high and her hands folded neatly in front of her, she understands that she must confront King Irron in order to begin creating a life with Rick, much like one must cross a bridge to get over a river.

Mora takes a deep breath before pushing the tavern doors open and walking outside. Before her, Rick waits patiently with Daniel, James and Sari. When her friends see her, despite her dislike of the dress, the looks on their faces makes her believe that it was the right choice. When Rick sees her, the look on his face makes her blush.

Just as he begins to reach for her, they notice a black carriage coming down the road. Drawn by two magnificent looking black steeds, the elegantly crafted, well maintained carriage seems entirely out of place in the worn down town. As it pulls up to the boardwalk, she feels like a true Princess for the first time in weeks when Rick properly takes her hand to help her into the carriage. But when the coachman opens the door, both are shocked to see the Queen sitting inside. It never occurred to Mora that all three of them would ride together-she assumed that the Queen would meet them in the Meadow.

She motions the pair to join her and they hesitantly comply. Mora’s confidence retreats allowing her nervousness to once again take hold of her.

Queen Sheynne’s cold demeanor seeps into the air; none of them talk. Mora formally arranges herself in the seat, making sure her dress is draped adequately over her ankles before she clasps her hands in her lap. Within the close vicinity of the Queen, she is able to get a good look at her for the first time. Her tightly pulled back blonde hair is mounded on top of her head, inside her black crown. Her pale skin seems almost translucent and the same piercing eyes she shares with Rick draw the

As the ride draws on, the frigid silence between the mother and son causes her to feel like an intruder. She gracefully allows her head to droop so that she can stare at the floor.

Beside her she can feel Rick’s body tense with agitation during the duration of the almost two hour trip. When he finally draws in a breath to speak the Queen beats him to it, “Thank you, son, for coming along on this trip.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Mora,” the anger directed towards the Queen only emphasizes the mysteriousness of Rick and Mora’s relationship.

Though she can feel Sheynne stare at her, Mora keeps her face blank and her eyes down. She wishes to stay out of their dispute. When she feels Rick shift next to her as if he is angry at her for not coming to his aid, she realizes that he has been out of high society so long that he has lost the finer points of polite social interaction.

Silence once again falls on the three of them. After about another mile of it, the Queen lifts a square box onto her lap from the bench beside her. She opens it slowly. Mora allows her eyes to look up though she doesn’t raise her head. She is shocked to see a thick, dark, masculine crown in it, though shiny like metal it is crafted in such a way to appear as intertwined branches. Rick looks displeased. When the Queen reaches into the box, she doesn’t pull out the crown but rather a small, ornate silver key. Mora recognizes the designs on it as a match to her chains and her collar.

Queen Sheynne hands Rick the key; when he takes it, she speaks to Mora, who lifts her head up to give the woman her undivided attention, “For the purposes of this meeting, I believe you will agree that it is necessary for you to appear to be here of your own free will and for King Irron to believe it was your choice to call off the marriage.”

Rick turns to Mora, reaching for her collar. His fingers intentionally brush the back of her neck as he reaches around to find the small keyhole. It clicks quietly when he turns the key. Again his hand barely grazes her as he removes it from her neck; Mora hides her shiver by reaching up to touch her now bare skin. Though the collar is small and delicate, she feels lighter. Queen Sheynne continues to watch her; Mora lets her face remain calm, pushing away the heat that threatens to make her cheeks flush.

She keeps her voice level and neutral when she responds to the Queen, “I am not here of my own free will? I thought my actions made my intentions clear, your Majesty.”

The Queen’s cold affect remains unchanged, “You are of Derven; your actions merely emphasized your choice to take the path with the least amount of casualties.”

It finally occurs to Mora that while Rick’s feelings for her are obvious, she has kept her own sentiments hidden safely behind her learned nature. The Queen has not seen Mora’s jealous outbursts, anger or laughter; all she knows of the Princess is the selfless acts she has done to save another. She briefly thinks of telling the Queen about her love for the Prince, but dismisses the thought when she realizes that words are but a poor substitute for action.

Sheynne continues, “The place we meet King Irron is a large field of neutral territory that we call the Meadow; it lies south of the trees that mark the border of Sceadu and north of the public road. If you leave that field and therefore my custody I shall see it as a violation of the arrangement between King Nathanial and I, at which time I will have no choice but to declare war on Derven.”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“That’s absurd, Mora would never–” Rick’s voice is thick with the grit of his aggravation.

Mora cuts him off, trying to save him from the Queen’s displeasure, “Sceadu could never win; if I were to-as you say-violate your agreement with my father, it would be in favor of Alumenia. Your declaration of war against Derven would cause both countries to respond, surely you realize.” She has no intention of leaving the field with anyone but Rick but the way the Queen speaks to her causes her anger to boil inside.