*Nemesia's POV*
As the relentless downpour continued, the chill of the mountain air bit through my damp clothes, seeping into my bones. I was huddled in a makeshift shelter, a small, dirty cave that had offered us some respite from the storm. Within this crude refuge, I attended to Evar's wounds using the old remedies I knew—spiderweb which contains penicillium mould and some bread and my own saliva which would be nutrients which will allow penicillium to grow. In other words... a very effective and natural antibiotic. Primitive methods, perhaps, but ones I trusted.
The constant drumming of rain on the leafy canopy above was punctuated by the eerie howl of the wind, a haunting reminder of our precarious situation. Evar lay beside me, unconscious, his breathing ragged and uneven. Every pained grunt he issued twisted my heart, stirring a fierce protectiveness I hadn't known I possessed.
I had just applied the last of the medicine when the heavy silence of our solitude was shattered. Shadowed figures emerged at the cave entrance—five cloaked men, their faces obscured and weapons drawn in the dim light. My hand instinctively went to the dagger at my side as I stood, facing the intrusion with a wary eye.
"We mean no harm," the leader announced, his voice cautious, echoing slightly off the stone walls.
"So why would they point weapons at us..." Athen growled in the back of my mind.
"But you smell like a lycan..." When they finished, Athena had her answer.
I bared my teeth fiercely and tried to put myself between Evar and them.
His words hung heavy in the damp air, mingling with the scent of earth and rain. I eyed them warily, assessing our odds should this turn into a confrontation.
"We seek only shelter and no quarrel with you... My friend is... wounded. Bandits attacked us," I responded, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
After a tense moment where the only sounds were the storm outside and our labored breaths, the men relaxed slightly, their weapons lowering but not sheathed. The tension eased but didn't disappear.
One of them stepped forward, his cloak dripping with rainwater.
"Murphey," he introduced himself, a hint of recognition in his tone as he looked at Evar. "I know this man. We've crossed paths in less dire times. We'll help..."
With Murphey's acknowledgement, the group's demeanour shifted subtly. They approached their movements cautiously but no longer overtly threatening and carefully helped to move Evar, still unconscious and now shivering, onto a makeshift stretcher they quickly made. I was stiff and watched their every move. If they dared to hear Evar, I'd go wolfy on them for sure.
"Let's get him somewhere dry," Murphey suggested, and I nodded, following them as they navigated through the dense forest to their hidden encampment—a cluster of tents skillfully camouflaged between the rocks and trees, behind a small cave entrance. Well guarded and hidden place indeed.
As we arrived at the camp, I was met with suspicious glances and quiet murmurs and sniffs. The rebels watched my every move, their eyes sharp and assessing. Despite Murphey's offer of help, I was placed in a tent under guard, receiving food and necessities but little warmth or comfort from my hosts.
"Are we a guest or a prisoner?" Athena growled uneasy.
"Not sure but I hope they're taking care of Evar..."
The day bled into an evening, and with Evar still unconscious and the rebels' wariness palpable, I felt the walls of isolation closing in. But I was keeping calm. Evar needed help. I won't cause trouble... not now.
Murphey approached me as the sky darkened, his face with no emotions.
"We've done what we can for Evar," he said, breaking the silence that had settled between us. "But we need to understand your intentions here, and until then, precautions must be taken."
"Precautions?" I echoed, my voice cool. "Is that why I'm being treated more like a prisoner than a guest?"
Then it dawned on me.
"Wait... you are the rebels Evar told me about... We wanted to meet you" I stood up looking at the man.
"Yes, but this is just a small guarding post. There's still a long way to the main camp, and you're not getting anywhere near there until I make sure we can trust you... which may be difficult," his voice was rather cold.
"Oh? And why's that?" I said trying to rein in my temper and stay calm.
Murphey didn't flinch at my tone.
"You're a lycan and of royal blood. Our distrust might be inconvenient, but it's necessary. For us, it's a matter of survival."
His words stung, reminding me of the rift between my world and theirs.
"You know me..." I didn't mean it like a question.
"Yes. Nemesia... the supposed future queen..." His mockery was clear as day, as he left me alone again.
As night fell, the guard outside my tent escorted me to the nearby river for a chance to wash up—a small concession to my comfort. The river's cold water was a relief, washing away some of the day's grime and tension, but the guard's smell nearby reminded me of my precarious position.
*Evar's POV*
I awoke to a world of pain, each breath a sharp reminder of the battle's toll. My eyes fluttered open, revealing the dim interior of a roughly constructed tent. Murphey sat beside me, his face a canvas of concern as he noticed my consciousness returning.
"You gave us quite the scare," he murmured, offering me a cup filled with water drawn from the mountain's spring.
"Where's Nemesia?" My voice was hoarse, my thoughts immediately searching for her, piecing together the fragmented memories of the ambush.
"She's safe, for now," Murphey reassured me, a slight hesitation in his voice suggesting the complexity of our situation. "The men are wary, but she's being looked after."
The urge to see her, to confirm her safety with my own eyes, propelled me to attempt sitting up, despite the searing pain that protested my movements.
"I need to see her," I insisted, my voice a mix of worry and determination.
The man looked at me weirdly. We've known each other for a long time... I guess I've never been a person to cares for others and worries for others this much.
"Where is she?" I asked with pain in my voice.
Murphey offered his arm, helping me to my feet. We walked slowly, each step a calculated effort to avoid jarring my injuries. The chill of the evening air bit into my skin as we neared the river where Murphey had mentioned she'd be.
Approaching quietly, I caught sight of her through a break in the trees. Bathed in the soft silver of the moonlight, Nemesia stood at the river's edge, her figure reflecting in the undulating surface. She was disrobing, her movements graceful and unhurried, revealing the smooth expanse of her back, the contours of her shoulders, and finally, the delicate structure of her waist. Her skin glowed under the celestial light, an ethereal sight that rooted me to the spot, hidden in the shadows.
Even with the scars covering her body, she was... breathtaking.
For a moment, everything else fell away—the pain, the cold, the looming threats of our predicament—it was just her, in her element, strong yet vulnerable. My heart thudded with a depth of emotion that was hard to name, tangled in loyalty, awe, and something far more dangerous.
When I saw the full swell of her breast... Gods I already saw her naked. It's nothing weird for shifters. But this... somehow... it was more intimate and exciting. It's like I can finally see her with my own two eyes.
"Peeping Tom" Ragnar snarled at me, but I couldn't stop myself.
I knew I shouldn't... I wished I could just go there, damn the clothes getting wet, and embrace her, tasting her skin. The mark of her fated mate at the back of her neck made my blood boil. How dare he reject such a gift from the heavens!
I was trying to calm down and move back... That's when I noticed a young rebel, barely more than a boy, edging closer to a place where he would be able to see her - a lecherous intent written clear across his shadowed features. A surge of protectiveness overwhelmed me. Without thinking, I stepped out of my concealment, confronting him with a low, menacing growl.
"What do you think you're doing?" My voice was a harsh whisper, the threat unmistakable.
He stumbled back, the moonlight catching his startled, pale face. "I... I was just—"
"Go back to the camp. Now!" My command was clipped, brooking no argument.
He nodded quickly, fear in his eyes as he scrambled away, leaving me to watch over her solitude. Turning back, I ensured Nemesia's continued privacy, my gaze lingering on her with a mix of admiration and a poignant ache of longing.
She seemed oblivious to the near intrusion, her focus entirely on the cold embrace of the river. Watching her there, so serene yet so fiercely independent, I grappled with the tumultuous feelings she stirred within me. My duty to protect her was clear, but the deeper, more personal bond that was forming—that was a territory I was unsure how to navigate. I've never had a mate, never met my fated too. I was bound to be a lone wolf it seems. But she made me... feel so much.
Closing my eyes I again imagine myself with her in that water, kissing away her worries, licking the water droplets from her perfect skin, and then... biting her neck, trying to remove that disgusting mark there.
I shook my head, feeling my trousers getting a bit tight. I have to stop...
As she slipped into the water, the liquid night enveloping her form, I retreated back to the shadows, my heart heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged desires. The storm within me was no less turbulent than the one we had weathered earlier, each thunderous beat of my heart a reminder of the complexity of our entwined fates.
Retracing my steps back to the camp, I mulled over everything that had transpired. Nemesia was more than just a mission or entertainment; she was becoming a pivotal part of my very essence, challenging everything I've told myself all these years. But as I walked away, allowing her that moment of solitude, I was left with a resonating solitude of my own, filled with echoes of what might be and the silence of what wasn't yet spoken.
*Nemesia's POV*
Returning to the camp, I was taken aback to find Evar waiting for me outside the tent. His presence, though reassuring, ignited a tumult of emotions within me. My steps quickened, and before I could rein in my impulsive heart, I found myself rushing towards him, my arms wrapping around him in a fierce embrace. The contact, though brief, was charged with the pent-up fears of the night. Some rebels around us were watching and seemed surprised, but not as much as Evar, whose beard tickled my neck, and his mouth touched my ear in that movement of mine.
Almost as quickly as I had closed the gap, I pushed him away, stepping back to put some distance between us. That made him even more surprised but his smirk returned very quickly.
"What were you thinking, Evar? Rushing in like that... you could have been killed, you bloody idiot!" My voice was sharp, the words laced with anger and fear, each syllable trembling slightly. I was furious but why? I wanted to protect him and look how it ended.
Evar managed a weak smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges despite the evident pain.
"I had to come. I mean... look at you... Getting abducted, lost and all of that when I wasn't watching over. What would you do without me?" His voice was overconfident, and a mischievous glint was seen in his eyes. Gods this idiot was trying to play it cool...
"We were supposed to part ways in that tavern..." My voice wavered.
"Yeah, but I saw that innkeeper girl acting suspicious. So I followed her and questioned her... After hearing about the innkeeper's scheme, how could I not rush after you Nem? She was plotting with those bandits, she sold you out. I couldn't let you walk into that alone." His voice, usually so full of jest and challenge, now carried a sombre tone that made the situation all too real. It made me feel like he cared and worried. And that was dangerous as it made my cold heart move a bit.
I felt a rush of warmth at his words, mixed with a spike of irritation.
"You reckless, foolish man," I muttered, the affection in my voice battling with my exasperation. The fear of losing him, made me realise how important he became to me.
Just then, Murphey joined us, his gaze sweeping over us with an unreadable expression.
"We should all talk," he suggested, his voice firm yet inviting. "Join us for dinner. It's time we understood each other better."
Helping Evar walk without tripping coz of pain, I felt the complexity of my emotions swirl—a tangled mess of gratitude and concern. Together, we followed Murphey to the communal area where a modest dinner was spread out by the rebels.
The dinner was simple, yet the atmosphere was charged with an undercurrent of tension and potential camaraderie. As we took our seats, the flickering firelight cast shadows over our faces, mirroring the uncertainty that lay between us.
"I know trust doesn't come easily," Murphey began, breaking the bread and passing it around as a symbol of goodwill. "But perhaps our mutual enemies can inspire mutual trust."
I looked at him in silence to see him continue.
"That is... if we have mutual enemies..." He added.
I sighed. I knew I'd have to open up to them a bit to make them allow me in. But still, I didn't feel good about it.
"My mate... My fated mate..." I started speaking loud enough so more people would hear.
"Made me work hard for him my whole life under the pretence of love. I've made him the heir to the throne. I've made him achieve a lot. And then when he got all he wanted, he cast me aside for some unknown girl from a forest... He was intimate with her dirtying our sacred bond..." I was breathing slowly, not to get too angry. I felt Evar's hand on my leg in a hidden, silent support.
"And when I decided I should protect what's mine... I was beaten badly like I've never even thought another person could be treated... and then thrown into the Tower..." I raised my eyes and looked at Murphey. I think I saw a glimpse of compassion in his eyes. To hell with that.
"So yes... We've got a common enemy. I want to destroy the naive king who's supporting my stupid husband... as well as my traitorous husband and the woman he picked... And their whole family. So none of their royal blood will be able to be passed down and sit on the throne" My tone was cold and dangerous. I could feel some rebels shifting uncomfortably.
Evar, decided to join in. "Neve has been into politics but... maybe it's time I do something about it... and I guess Nemesia is the best card for your leaders. So why not? Use us."
I listened, my gaze often drifting to Evar. A rouge wolf, living wildly in the forest, not caring about anything... what changed him? Why was he... so close to me?
"That sounds good actually... I will let my boss know, but you'll still have to prove yourself to the cause... Everyone does" he said carefully as if not wanting to offend me.
I nodded and was about to say something when Evar spoke. "Yeah pal, give as a job, and we'll show how useful we can be".
I raised my eyebrow and looked at him surprised, but then smiled lightly.
After that, the conversations were less serious, and we had a chance to spend some quality time while getting to know the rebels.
The night deepened around us, the sound of the rain outside a steady companion to our discussions. As we wrapped up the evening, the rebels began to disperse, leaving Evar and me sitting by the dying fire. He reached over, his hand covering mine, a simple touch that spoke volumes.
"No matter what happens, Nemesia," he said quietly, "you're not alone in this."
His words, soft yet resolute, echoed in the quiet and made my breath stop short as I looked into his eyes. Suddenly I remembered that night in the cave. I quickly stood up.
"See you tomorrow Evar" I whisper and... like a coward... I ran back to my own tent.