Warmth.
My mate was taken away earlier, the elders eager to steal her for themselves, though for what purpose, I do not know. At least she finished overseeing the disposal of the corpses before they dragged her away. I fed them to the wolves. And still, the wolves wait. They stick around at the edge of the village,never venturing too close, yet never leaving. They are watching, waiting for something.
“Have you tried mead?” A younger female approaches the fire, carrying pointed jars in her hands. The moment she lifts them, the stench hits me.
I wrinkle my snout. “What is this?”
Behind me, I hear sneezes from my warriors. The scent is foul, strong enough to make even a vólkin recoil.
“Don’t you have alcohol in Ávera?” the elder woman who has spent the evening feeding me cooked meat asks.
I shake my head. “It looks like water, but yellowed. What is it?”
“Oh, son, it is from Mother Nature!” She chuckles and takes a cup from another young female. “It is honey and water.”
Honey? Bee offerings to the goddesses?
“Try it!”
I take the cup from her, lifting it to my snout??—
And immediately sneeze.
The scent is pungent and sour. My fur bristles. What an awful stench.
“It might make you dizzy.” The elder near me grins.
“You blind fuck! Don’t you see his size? It won’t even affect him,” another elder scoffs.
I am big, but I do not trust anything that dulls my senses. I scan the gathering. Some of my warriors stand by the shackled men. Others help cook the hunt, a few talk with the females. Dozens have gathered by the central fire, filling the village with voices and laughter. Different scents cross my snout—blood from the fresh game, sweat from the males in chains, the scent of mating from a home nearby, and meals the females have brought from their houses. And then, the one scent that eclipses them all. Sweet and mine. My mate. And she is still far from me.
“You’re a strong, big boy. But tell me, do you know how to please a woman?” My attention snaps to another elder as she approaches, carrying a wooden tray.
“Of course. My mate is very satisfied.”
The elder hums, setting the tray down. “Do you use your tongue?”
“I do.”
“Where?”
Isn’t it obvious? “In my mate’s cunt, of course.”
The elders burst into laughter, their amusement echoing through the firelit clearing. The younger females blush, their faces turning red, just like my mate does. She would probably blush too if she heard this conversation.
“Just there?” The elder’s eyebrows rise. “Do you kiss?”
I tilt my head. “It seems difficult. I do not have lips like you do.” If they ask, then perhaps it means something important.
“Use your tongue,” another elder chimes in.
I frown. “Where?”
“In her mouth!”
I freeze even as a gasp escapes me.Of course. How have I never thought of that?
Ívar, seated beside me, nearly chokes on his meat. I see the realization strike his mind too. He’s already memorizing the information. Kaël would love this conversation.
