Chereads / Anima' Rising / Chapter 13 - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13 - Chapter Thirteen

SUNG

When he had finally finished with Erwin and the others, Sung raced back to the city to find Joyce. But he couldn't see her anywhere in the markets square, and she was not back at their cave when he checked with the guards who waited at the trailhead to escort her if she went that way. They told him that she had been taken by the women's council, and they had been told in no uncertain terms that they were not to be near Khloe's cave.

Sung knew the risk to Joyce was much less now that they had mated. However, his skin still itched with anxiety as he ran for Khloe's cave, praying to the creator they had not taken her deeper into the forest. He was yearning to see her and make sure she was okay. And he still did not feel comfortable about her wandering around without guards. But on his way back, he saw her in the stalls with three of the females from the Women's Council. They stood before one of the clothing stalls, trying to find something for Joyce to wear to the feast.

Joyce was smiling, her cheeks pink, and her hair beginning to fall out of the braid she had twisted it into that morning, so it drifted around her face and neck in loose curls.

Khloe pointed something out on one of the dresses the merchant held, and Joyce laughed, then touched the fabric, and her eyes went wide. The merchant spoke to her, but she was like a child in her delight, mouth open, urging the others to touch it.

Sung hung back, watching them from behind a tree.

She was so beautiful and so sweet. Something about her was as pure as the title she had given for the rite, though he knew she possessed the heat of passion. His mind flashed to the night before… She sighed and clawed her fingers into his hair, kissing him, desperate. The feel of her skin when he cupped her thigh, then dragged his hand slowly up her leg. The delicious temptation of skin on the skin when he rolled against her, seeking that perfect slide that had made her gasp.

The mating huff sang out of his throat before he could yank it back, and every male Anima in the area went still, turning to watch him warily, head down and shoulders rolled forward.

Fuck. Now he had to act like he had done it on purpose. With a rolling growl of dominance, he stalked into the open. All the males slunk away or kept their eyes down while the females watched with great interest or jealousy.

Joyce had not noticed his huff but had seen her companions shift their attention. She looked around, trying to find what had captured everyone, and then her eyes landed on him and widened, followed by a beaming smile that made his heart race. She watched him for two or three rolling steps before biting her lip, and her scent took on a new quality that perked the ears of every male in the area.

Suddenly very aware of her and the males near her, Sung snarled and had to stop himself from yanking her to his side in a show of possessiveness he knew was unnecessary, but his instincts were alight.

There was more than one way to demonstrate to any male watching that she belonged to him.

Strolling up to her quickly, he ignored Khloe's eye-roll and slid his hand to her waist as he joined her at the stall.

"Good morning," he said, more breathlessly than intended.

"I think you mean good afternoon," she said, smiling, but her eyes widened as he pulled her into his chest, bending her backwards over his arms, and kissed her soundly.

The children nearby screamed and laughed at their mothers and friends that the king was kissing the queen! As he straightened from the kiss and pulled her back upright, Joyce blushed, but he just nipped her ear and stroked the goosebumps on her arm, huffing his pleasure at how she responded to him.

"Sung, stop!" she whispered, but through a smile.

Khloe muttered something about alpha-male bullshit, and some council members tittered, but he did not care. He cared that any males close to him could smell the way his wife and mate blossomed in his arms. He cared that they smelled his sheer dominance and unbending certainty that she was his. And he cared that they pay special attention to the warning in him.

He would not accept any violation of her or her space.

She was his.

The creator knew he had been hers all along, so it was only fair.

"Lovesick, fool," Khloe whispered from behind him. He turned to give her disapproving snort, but she was beaming at him. Females were strange.

"I do not mean to interrupt your preparations, wife -" Khloe snorted from behind him, but he ignored it, "- but something is pressing that I need to discuss with you. Could I steal you from the ladies for half an hour?"

"I am certain you do not need more than fifteen minutes for your pressing business, Sung," Khloe said dryly and loudly enough for anyone to hear. Several of the women howled at that.

He cut her a withering glance. "Then you do not know your king very well," he said in a deep buttery voice.

"Oo hoo!" The ladies liked that, and he winked at her when she shook her head, throwing up her hands in defeat.

"Fine, fine. Take your mate. She needs food, so do not bring her back until you have fed her after your business."

Joyce looked back and forth between them, her cheeks reddening more with every word. Sung was troubled to scent some fear and embarrassment on her and gave her a quick, measuring look. Was she okay? Had something happened? But she was looking at Khloe.

So, he clasped their hands and led her away, calling back and waving to any people who cheered or greeted him as they passed. Some of the children ran along the path with them until they were called back by their parents, but Sung just kept leading her deeper into the forest.

SUNG

When they were finally alone, he looked around in every direction, scented the air, noting the wind direction, and then darted off the trail, pulling her behind him.

"Sung, what -?"

"I missed you," he said, rough and hurried, as he pulled her into the space behind one of the massive grandfather trees of the forest. Its trunk was so vast that he and Erwin could have stood beside each other behind it, and no one would have seen them. And because of its massive root structure, there was a clear space for several feet around it. Hemmed in by the bushes and trees nearby, it was like being in a little private alcove.

"I missed you, too, but – oh! Oh, what a lovely spot!" Joyce said as she pushed through under the bush to see where he had brought her. He turned to catch her eye, and she broke from scanning the little clearing to blinking at him. Then she smiled.

Without another word, he turned her, so her back was against the tree. He braced himself on one arm to lean in over and kissed her, slow and tantalising, letting his teeth draw out her lower lip before retaking her mouth. She was surprised but caught up quickly, her eyes sparkling as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in.

"Hello," he whispered against her lips a minute later, then dove in for another kiss. He did not pull away again until her breath had quickened, and it took her a moment to open her eyes.

"Hi," she said breathlessly. "How did your meeting go?"

"Do you want to know about my meeting?" His voice was little more than a rasp. He drew a finger along her jaw, then down her neck, pushing aside the shirt collar so he could see her shoulder.

"Not really," she said, dropping her head to the side to give him better access.

He groaned as he placed his mouth on that beautiful, soft skin where her shoulder met her neck and sucked. Her breath caught, and her hand came up to cup his neck and hold him in, her body arching against him as his other hand trailed down her side to cup her bottom.

She kissed the base of his throat, then took one naughty hand down to slide up his leathered thigh and higher, cupping him through his pants. This suddenly was not just a kiss, and Sung ached to take her. He whispered her name and pressed her back into the tree, plastering himself against her. And she murmured his name too, her eyes closed and her breath coming quickly.

But they were so close to people; there were children out there! He wanted to growl in frustration, and he wanted her to touch him again.

With a warm purr in his throat, he took her mouth, cupping her neck, his thumb trailing the line of her soft throat. His other hand slid down the back of her thigh and pulled her leg up, hooking her knee over his hip so he could grind into her. And she responded like he had lit a fire in her. He gasped as she pulled him in, delighted that his mate, his true mate seemed to want him as much as he wanted her.

"Joyce…" he groaned, but he could not find the words to express what a joy she was. So he kissed her again.

He could hear her blood pulsing in time with her rapid heartbeat, smell her desire rising, and shuddered when she rolled her hips against him. The slide of her tongue was so erotic that he almost gave in. He almost did it; he took her right there and to hell with the kids if they caught wind of what was happening.

But he knew… he knew she would be embarrassed if they were caught or someone commented on the scent. He knew she had already felt small because he had kissed her so openly and then discussed it with the other females. He has seen it in her face. It was a sharp reminder of how differently they had grown into adulthood and how easily he could harm her without her thinking.

He had to step softly with her. Let her find her balance in their world.

So, with a reluctant groan, he let his head drop to her shoulder, rolling his hips one more time and inhaling her scent when she gasped. But he slowed the pace, combed her hair back from her face with his fingers and pulled away far enough to meet her gaze.

Her head rested against the tree, and she looked at him through half-hooded eyes, her lips puffy from the kisses. Sung had to drop her leg and force himself to focus on her face, not the invitation she was giving with her eyes.

"Do we have to go to the feast?" She said, tracing a finger down his chest that made him shudder and almost grab her again. "Could we not just go back to the cave and… cuddle?"

He cleared his throat. "As tempting as that is," he croaked, "it might end in the people dragging us out. They have been waiting a week for this already," her eyes clouded. He cupped her face again, worried. "Hey, hey, I was joking. I just meant… I think we should go."

"I know," she sighed. "I just… I feel like I am constantly on the back foot here. All it will take is the wrong word or decision, and it will all disappear."

"I am not disappearing, Joyce," he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "ever."

She sighed, and he waited, but she did not look up. Just continued to watch her hand stroking his chest. Following the thought process would set him off again, so he made himself focus.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice husky and even deeper than usual.

"Mostly," she said, putting a hand on his cheek and letting her fingers curl into him in a way he was coming to adore. "The women… they are teaching me. I need that. I know I do; I just…."

"Can I help?"

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "I think I need to find my way with this one," she said. "But I do enjoy these little breaks. Can we take another one soon?" And she smiled.

Sung growled and kissed her again, and she laughed into his mouth.

It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

***

JOYCE

They found her a dress. A dress made from shimmering white linen and embroidered in golds and browns in a starburst around her shoulders, falling like a cloud against her skin to sweep her ankles.

She felt pretty for the first time since she had arrived in Anima.

The females from the council wove flowers and leaves into her hair and gave her necklaces, bone, teeth, and coloured beads. When she was ready, they all walked with her. As they approached the market, other females from all the tribes gathered around them, some singing, some stomping their feet, others clapping. By the time they reached the market, they were a crowd, and Joyce was overwhelmed. She could not understand the words they sang and wondered what they said.

"What are they doing?" She leaned into Khloe's ear.

The older woman walked alongside her, a small smile on her face. "They are calling your mate to tell him you are on your way and reminding him why he chose you."

Joyce frowned. "What reasons are they?" she asked, confused.

Khloe smiled and winked. "They may not know you, Joyce, but they know your mate," she said mysteriously. "Just relax and enjoy yourself. They are celebrating you tonight," she started clapping in time with the others and raised her voice to the strange song.

Joyce could feel her cheeks heating, but she was surprised at her and of her stroking her hair, calling like they were excited. Then, as they entered the market and began to weave between the tables, Joyce saw the men on the other side stomping and singing, but in a song that seemed counter-pointed to the women's.

The female voices soared and clapped when the males hit low notes and stomped their feet. And as the women sang hearty, throaty calls that made Joyce wonder precisely what they were saying, the males huffed and shuffled, clapping a beat at the end.

It was a fantastic show of unity, and Joyce found herself moved, though she could not say why.

Then the men parted, and she could see Sung clearly, walking up from the back in that long vest again, with the fur collar, but this time with necklaces like the ones the women had given her, only chunkier and more masculine

The people stomped, called, and clapped them to the centre of the market, then Khloe took Joyce's hand and passed her to Sung, who winked and, without saying a word, turned her toward the podium. They walked up together slowly with her hand in his until they reached the stage level, and he ushered her to her seat next to his at the centre of the large table.

Then he stood, his chin high and shoulders back, holding her hand and watching his people with a broad smile. Joyce did her best to look dignified and pleased as Sung did, but inside, she was overwhelmed. The people below made one more circle of the market, still singing, and then the song ended on what had to be the lowest note she had ever heard people sing. Everyone turned then to face them, and Khloe called out. "A cry for King and Queen, a cry for Anima!"

And the market erupted with the calls, coughs, screeches, and roars of the people below. Joyce covered her mouth with one hand, and Sung squeezed her fingers as he leaned into her ear.

"They are celebrating you, you know," he said in a low voice. His tongue teased her ear for a breath before he pulled away.

"I just can't figure out why?" she turned to him and said honestly.

"Well, frankly, they are just grateful someone took me off their hands," he laughed, then he threw back his head and roared in response to his people, who all began to clap and cheer. When the noise started to settle, he addressed them. "Feast, my friends. Tonight, we celebrate the union of the king and queen. We celebrate the future of Anima! Feast, and remember all that we have to be grateful for!"

They cheered again, and then Sung urged Joyce to take a seat.

"I hope you have an appetite," he grinned, eyes twinkling. "Because tonight we feast!"

He had not been joking when he told her they would be feasting. Platter after platter of rich meats, juicy fruits, and odd but delicious vegetables passed the table, and Joyce tried all of them. When things slowed, she wondered if she could even walk back to the cave; she was so stuffed. But the food was all so delicious, fresh and tasty, she had not been able to stop.

It was fun to have Sung smiling and feeding her grapes. And fun to have the women from the council at a table in front of them, all winking and laughing together, throwing teasing jabs at the couple. Fun to have Talia next to her and her sister, both gushing over her dress. And Sung's eyes…

His eyes rarely left her for more than a few seconds. His name would be called, or someone would visit the table, and he would turn. But every time Joyce looked at him, he would look back. Or she would feel his gaze like a finger touch on her skin and turn, and he would be staring, his eyes dark, alight at the same time. It stole her breath.

Then his hand snuck to her knee under the table. She pretended to ignore it, but as Talia turned and asked her where she got the dress, Sung was sliding the skirt up. Up her leg until he found the skin of her knee and thigh and stayed there. Her breath picked up. She got flustered, trying to explain to Talia which merchant they had visited to find the dress.

Then Sung leaned into her ear again and whispered. "Are you ready? First, we do speeches, and then we leave. And I am locking the cave door behind us this time."

Joyce snorted the water she was drinking and had to cough. When she spluttered her way back to dignity, Sung was still staring, his eyes ablaze and locked on hers.

"Let us get this done," she whispered, and his fingers tightened on her leg.

SUNG

Every time he stroked her thigh, letting his fingertips trail along her skin, the tiny hairs of her legs stood on end, and her skin prickled under his touch. The mating huff rose in his throat. He'd had to swallow it a dozen times already. He was swallowing and scenting like an adolescent at his first mating. It would have been embarrassing, but there were so many people and so much going on that he trusted that most were not taking the time to single out his scent. He prayed they were not.

Though it made him grow frustrated, he was almost glad when Erwin stood beside him and called for quiet. He was forced to take his hand off her, which helped immensely with his concentration, but less with the fire that urged him to touch, taste, and fill his nose with her. He did not want to think about anything else.

"Good people of Anima, we celebrate our new queen tonight and the beginning of a new dawn in the Wildwood." Many voices were raised cheerfully, and Sung was proud of the woman beside him. "Tonight," Erwin continued. "We start the journey into the age of king Gareth and his good queen Joyce and their cubs that will lead Anima in the coming generations," Erwin turned and smiled at them both. "Queen Joyce, your people would like to hear from you. Are you ready to answer to your court, to your people?"

"I will do my best," she said, and Sung's heart squeezed. She was so uncertain of herself; could she not see her strength. He resolved? to do better to remind her of it, show her how she appeared in his eyes.

Erwin nodded. "Would you address the people and tell them your hopes for this new phase of our kingdom?"

Joyce stood, wiping her hands on her skirts and smiling at the people. "I am… I'm grateful that you have accepted me," she said, her voice clear as a bell across the market. "I am so grateful to have Sung and that he chose me -" Sung's hand twitched toward her, and he could feel his eyes shining as she met his gaze. There was an audible murmur of emotion and approval through the crowd. Joyce tore her gaze away and looked back at the gathered people. "This is a new life for me. I ask your forgiveness for anything I may have done or said that offended you. I have not learned all the customs yet. I am working on learning, and I will do better. But I appreciate your forgiveness until I find my way. I am looking forward to the opportunity to serve you as queen."

There was a great roar of approval that shocked her. Her eyes went wide when the cheers began. She turned to Sung, who only smiled and raised his hands in applause. She put her hand to her chest, nodded at them, and then sat. But Sung shook his head and urged her to stand again.

"You still have to name your cohorts," he said.

She nodded and stood again as Erwin motioned for the people to quiet.

"Queen Joyce," he called. "Will you name your second?"

Joyce swallowed and recited the words from memory. "I will, as my stead. I choose Khloe of the pride."

Khloe stood and bowed her acceptance to Joyce, and another great whoop of approval went up from the people, and Sung nodded. It was an excellent choice. He had not wanted to mould her decisions but hoped the women's council had not chosen for her. He should have asked her before, dammit.

Erwin smiled and settled the people again. "And your heart's companion? Do you have a sister to name?" he intoned.

"Yes. I ask Talia of the wing to stand with me and weather the storms," she said clearly and smiled at her friend.

Talia's eyes widened, but she shot out of her chair and took Joyce's hand, bowing over it. Joyce tried to stop her, but Sung was glad the woman treated her more intimately. He had known they would be a good fit, but Talia had seemed hesitant before the mating.

Erwin adjusted his leather sash and then opened his hand to the masses. "And the last of your people, who will you choose to advise?"

Joyce smiled, confidence showing on her face for the first time since this started. Sung looked into the crowd wondering which female the council had pointed Joyce towards.

"I would ask my advisor to be… Gray of the Thunder Herd," she said, loud and strong. "He who listens to the wind can speak with me and help me hear the people's hearts."

Sung froze.

A murmur rose among the adults as a small group of young people cheered, shouted at the back of the market square, and started pushing a young equine to his feet, who stared in clear shock even as he bowed and mouthed his acceptance. Sung squinted at the youth. He only knew Gray for his unfortunate deformity, one he had discussed with Erwin several times. Sung looked at his friend, who stood next to him and was trying and failing to hide his shock. This time, there was almost no applause but a great deal of muttered words and whispers that made Sung sweat.

He knew… he knew what she doing. He knew what she intended. But they could not see it. A queen had not had a male advisor since; had it ever happened? He would have to ask Khloe. But worse, a deformed Anima? A man none were sure of and so young? He trusted Joyce's sense of the man, but she had no idea what a fox she had thrown among the chickens. His dear, sweet girl.

As his stomach churned, he prayed that when the time came, the people would choose to see her for her heart and stop judging her for her differences.

***

SUNG

Sung sat back in his chair, offering her a smile of reassurance when she turned to look at him, uncertain because of the cold reception to her announcement. She licked her lips nervously as she turned back to them, but he watched her eyes turn steely, her back straighten, and his smile grew.

She had no idea what she had done. But they had no idea whom they were dealing with. Joyce, his little hero, was going to show them. And he would help her do it.

Erwin cleared his throat and drew everyone's attention. The tension in the room had risen several notches, and Sung swallowed as Erwin made the final call to their queen.

"Tell us, queen Joyce, what passion resides in you? To what end will your cohorts serve? To what fate will you throw your favour?"

Joyce raised her chin and, for the first time, did not follow the traditional script. That meant she knew what she was about to say did not fit. Sung was half-proud and half-terrified.

"I am your queen, but I am also human, raised in a different world, created for a different purpose. I wish to make Anima my home and become the people's representative," she said, determined to be heard. "But to do that, I believe I must represent everyone in Anima and use my position and my unique background to favour the plight of the unseen, the discarded and the shunned. I wish to champion those who are also different and forced to walk a different path, either by creation or fate. I will be the champion of the people without a voice and the children who stand outside the… the pack," she finished, stumbling on the unfamiliar term.

This time, the people's response was confusion. Generally, the queen chose a form of trade or the arts to patronise. They were unfamiliar with her choice of a corner of the people. But Sung, remembering his own time in her world where he stuck out as someone so different, viewed with such suspicion, applauded, once again, her intention. He just wished his people could see her as he did.

No one seemed quite sure what to do. Usually, at this point, the master of ceremonies would invite representatives of chosen trade forward to accept the queen's favour. But not only was it inappropriate to ask the shunned to the stage but even naming them would add to their shame. Erwin looked at him, a pleading in his eyes. And Sung stood quickly, taking Joyce's hand.

"I charge you, Anima, to take the favour of your queen: Long live queen Joyce, the compassionate!"

"Ling live queen Joyce, the compassionate!" came the callback, but once again, punctuated by murmurs, whispers, shaken heads, and frowns.

Returning to the ordinary course of events, Erwin invited the cohorts to the podium table, where they would be asked to eat from now on. With Talia already there as a master weaver and Khloe only one table below, the people's attention was drawn to Gray, who was forced to weave through the entire market to reach the stage.

Sung had to nod in approval when the young man kept his head up and chin high, refusing to meet the eyes of those who scowled or muttered as he passed. He had a spine, no matter what people might think of the queen's advisor. Which Sung appreciated. He was going to need it.

When the young man made it to the stage, he approached Sung first, his scent shaky but clear-headed.

"Sire, I did not know. I would have told her -"

"Hush, son. Your queen has given you great honour."

"Yes, but I did not ask; I need you to know I did not know she meant to -"

"Soldier, stand too!" Erwin snapped from beside him, and Gray snapped his mouth closed and stood, chin up and eyes on his herd Leader. "You were not chosen by the king or by me. The queen gave you this honour; you will respect her choice and show her the honour of your gratitude that she is due."

"Of course, of course," Gray said, his eyes pained. He believed the king or his leader would be displeased with him. And while Sung was not excited about his wife's primary advisor being male and a young male at that, he certainly was not going to express that here, in front of the people. So, he smiled at the youth, barely more than a colt and indicated that he should approach Joyce.

Gray turned, his eyes shining, and went down on a knee in front of Joyce, who covered her mouth.

"Gray, you do not need to -"

"You have honoured me above what I deserve, majesty," he said through his teeth as though he fought tears. "I am humbled and grateful. And I will serve you with my life."

"Of course, you will, of course," she said, trying to get him to stand. "Please, Gray, you do not have to do this -"

He stood, his jaw tight and eyes bright, then positioned himself to Joyce's right and slightly behind, demonstrating his submission to her will to the people. She kept trying to turn and talk to him, but Sung took her hand and brought her back to face him, whispering in her ear.

"This is a time to let him appear as a servant to your expectations. But let the people see him follow you, as they should," he whispered.

Joyce nodded and looked at him, squeezing his hand, then turned back to the people with him, her cohorts all surrounding her.

"Good people of Anima," he boomed to the meeting. "Celebrate your queen and her cohort. She has chosen from among you, and from among you, she will rule!"

This cheer was at least more enthusiastic than the last couple. Sung prayed it was not because they were glad it was all over. Then, as the music began again and the voices of people rose in an excited babble, he turned to face her, forcing a smile.

"Well done, beautiful," he said, winking.

"I don't think they liked my choice in the end," she said with a sad glance back over the crowd. "I am so disappointed. I thought… I thought maybe all the suspicion was over. But…"

"Don't worry about it, Love," Sung said.

Erwin grunted beside him, but he pointedly ignored his second and embraced Joyce before turning her to her cohort.

"They follow you now," he said, flinging his breath in her ear. "Tell them you will speak tomorrow and that they should not disturb you tonight during your rest."

She glanced at him from the side, her cheeks heating, and nodded.

He smiled and let his hand brush her ass, praying no one could see it from the other side of the table. But some of him went cold as she turned to her people and gathered them to make a plan.

Would the creator not give her a break?