Chapter 1 • Nocturnal Lover

Chapter 1

Nocturnal Lover

 Clarissa

 It was the same as always: he came only in my sleep and I could not resist him. Wolves were very sexual creatures and I was not ignorant to the pleasures of the flesh but he seemed to know my body better than I. His confident fingers wrapped around my waist and urgently wandered down my spine.

 “Amaya, my sweet love,” he whispered lovingly, calling me by a name that wasn’t mine. Nevertheless, it sounded as sensual as his touch, and the gravity of affection with which he muttered the endearment almost made me overlook the erroneous name. Perhaps if he ever gave me the chance to look into his eyes, I would see the love radiating forth from the eyes or the face I had never seen before.

 Whenever he came to my bed, my body recognized him even if my mind did not know him and I readily submitted to the urgency in his fingers. My subconscious knew him and trusted him, willing my body to relax and enjoy the rewards of having a skilled lover.

 “Lance,” I heard myself say, no longer in control of the situation. “Will you stay longer tonight? I have sent my maid away.”

 He tutted his tongue, deep in thought while the tips of his long fingers whispered over the joint of my shoulder. “Tomorrow, not tonight. Enjoy this for now; tomorrow, maybe.” He always made that promise just when he was about to leave and I decided to make my move. Finally, I would satisfy my curiosity; I would gaze upon my love and know him at last.

 As I spun around on the thatched mattress that served as my bed, a soulful wolf howled in the distance, distracting me for a split second. It was enough for him to slip away, the howl a sort of herald for his departure. Tears ran down my cheeks at the loss of his warm proximity and with a scream of frustration, I leaped out of another dream. My window was wide open, giving me a view of the big full moon and the wolf’s cry still vibrated through me, setting my hair on edge. My skin crawled with tension and sweat dripped down my back.

 A limp was shifted lightly on the floor beside my bed and I was reminded that I no longer owned the privacy of my room. I had a handmaid now, a gift from my father after attaining the werewolf age of maturity. Kaira yawned and rubbed at her eyes, no doubt displeased by the unnecessary disruption of her nightly rest but unable to rant as she wished. 

 “Do you need anything, Mistress? Are you having a difficult time sleeping?” she inquired, more out of duty than concern. Kaira was an Omega and so, meant to serve her betters. She however did it with such reluctance that sometimes, I felt like bashing her head against the wall. On the other hand, she was relatively new to her job and by the looks of it, was forced into employment.

 “Fetch me my portrait and be quick,” I added when she still sat, staring at me through buglike eyes. Sluggishly, she picked herself off the ground and made for my dressing drawer. Blindly searching through them, she found what I requested and brought it to me. I caressed the wooden frame of the small picture, beautifully crafted by skillful hands and the scent of fresh sandalwood had not departed from it yet. It was another gift permitted by my father, despite how peculiar it was.

 Constantly troubled by dreams of my nocturnal lover, I had the pack’s artist make me a portrait of him. I only had to describe him to the best of my memory and whether Ari found painting a headless man weird, he did not say. He was probably preoccupied with doing a good job to impress the royal household. When it was finished, it was framed and presented to me, my most prized possession. His name, Lance, was etched into the back as a reminder of its inspiration.

Pressing the wooden frame to my bosom, I laid back on my bed, drying my wet cheeks. Kaira watched me curiously for a while before lowering herself to the floor. As I closed my eyes in sleep, no more dreams came. Instead, loneliness set in and my heart suffered.  

••

“A trip, Father? I must confess that this is too soon,” I protested, sitting with my father in his courtyard. He preferred me to sit in the chair once belonging to his Luna, my mother. I looked a lot like her, he was used to saying and I was occasionally ashamed that I did not remember what she looked like. She had died after giving birth to me.

“Yes, a trip and luckily for you, it is not a distant one. The Nightwalker Pack wish to have their Bonfire quite earlier than most and has invited us to celebrate with them. We leave tomorrow morning. Get Kaira to pack a light bag for your essentials.”

The Nightwalker Pack was close to us geographically but in the past, a venomous enmity had existed between us. Previously, we were banned from crossing the boundary over to their territory and vice versa. However, since my father, Alpha Gary took over, he and the neighboring Alpha had come to a compromise. Some werewolves had not forgotten the old days albeit and still maintained the animosity but in general, peace currently reigned between the Black Paw and Nightwalker Pack. 

“Tomorrow morning? How long do we have to spend there?” I was raised to be charitable and demure towards others but I preferred to be around my own people with all the familiarities of home.

“A week or less, depending on how long the festivities are. It varies across packs, I suppose.”

“Of course, Father. I shall make my preparations in earnest.”

A week was not that terrible. It would give me some time to think of my next move towards discovering my own peace as well as solving the mystery behind the man in my dreams.