Hungry Heart - Book #4 - Ch. 20 (Patreon)

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen 

Chapter Twenty – A Most Mysterious Thread

After the upheaval of the day that had just ended, the world seemed to be still again, but not in the ominous manner from before. It felt as if all their surroundings, trees, animals, and even the wind, had gone to sleep. The moon glinted over the vast expanse of snow, casting a pale light across the landscape. The night air was chill and crisp, with no wind. The trees were motionless, their branches laden with snow, while the ground was covered in a blanket of white.

It was quiet, save, of course, for their shouts and cheers as they raced through the snow. Toru had thought of waking up Lakan, too, but then he had reconsidered. His brother had been through enough over the last days, being inhabited by that nasty lizard, losing his mother to find her again and then losing her again in some way.

That was the thing he wanted to talk to Duril about, too, even if they were having fun now, running through the thick snow without a care in the world. Duril was the only one not running since Toru had offered his back so that the healer wouldn’t be left behind. Even with the extra sweet burden he carried, he still managed to beat Claw and Varg to a copse of fir trees, majestic and silent against the moon above.

“Always the first,” both his competitors praised him as they changed into their humans. They patted him on the back and Varg kissed his mouth vigorously, reminding him of the other thing he wanted to do with his friends as they were out there, in the snow, away from the castle.

“Duril,” he asked, “have you tried to speak to the trees again? I wonder if they’re truly asleep. They are all so silent.”

“They are, indeed,” the healer confirmed, “but I feel it as a comfortable silence, like the rest one gets after a formidable fight.”

Duril moved closer to one of the tall trees nearby and put his hand against the trunk, feeling its rough texture beneath his fingers. It was a large pine, broad at the base and tapering towards the top.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of the wood.

“What is it telling to you?” Toru whispered, while Claw and Varg moved closer, too, all of them in awe of Duril’s amazing gift.

“This tree is old, ancient even,” Duril explained. “It tells me that it is one of hundreds like it spread throughout the Niverborg forest.”

“Does the tree sound like he’s sleepy?” Toru questioned. “They all seem like they’ve fallen asleep.”

Around them, the forest seemed to have fallen prey to a sweet sort of slumber. Toru was curious about it, and Duril, due to his amazing gift, was able to ask the trees how they truly felt after being forced to uproot themselves and search for a new soul.

“I’m asking what they think of the new soul of the forest,” Duril said with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What are they saying?” Varg asked, filled with curiosity just as much as Toru.

Duril caressed the old trunk with reverence. “The tree tells me about Elpis, of how kind she is and even about what her life was like before this change. I wish you were able to hear him yourselves. He speaks of Elpis with such warmth and kindness that it feels like he has known her since forever.” He paused, as if to gather his thoughts. It had to be quite an endeavor to hear the voices of trees. “He says that she is brave, strong and selfless. She cares deeply about the trees and the creatures living inside their roots. Her love is unlike anything he has ever experienced.”

“That must mean that she is better than the one from before,” Toru pointed out.

Varg and Claw nodded in agreement. They were about to turn away from the old tree, when Duril said, “Wait. He’s telling me something else.”

Once more, they gathered around their friend. Duril’s face looked scrunched up in thought, and there were also signs of surprise on his face. Toru felt restless. “What is it?”

“He tells me something about a most mysterious thread,” Duril replied slowly. “He says that one of us holds it, even if he doesn’t know.”

“A mysterious thread with what purpose?” Toru asked.

Duril brought his face close to the trunk while his palm remained firmly planted on the tough surface of the bark. “A thread that will take us back home,” he explained. “A thread that will repair the divide, he also says.”

Toru scratched his head. He didn’t know what to make of that. All these old trees and creatures and whatnot, talking in complicated words that no one could understand. “Does he at least say which one of us holds the thread?”

Duril shook his head. “No, he cannot tell me.”

Toru snorted. “I can’t say I’m surprised. I saw a small cave not far from here. What do you say about making a fire?”

***

Varg had always admired Duril for his kindness and quiet strength, but his admiration had risen to new heights since the healer was able to talk to the trees and the spirits of the wind. The last thing he told them about the mysterious thread had left him feeling a bit restless. He couldn’t explain it; was it possible he was the one in charge of that thread? But how could he be, if he didn’t even know what it was? Maybe he was just overthinking things when they were supposed to be simple. Right now, any of his friends could be the one the tree was talking about.

He had to admit that he understood Toru’s displeasure with creatures that didn’t say clearly what they wanted to say and left them guessing.

They had reached the cave and made a small fire. Varg felt the heat coming off of it and the coldness of the stone beneath. The crackling of the branches they had thrown into the fire comforted his soul. There was no point in being restless, when nothing but warmth and kindness surrounded him.

He watched with keen eyes as Toru kissed Duril, while one of his hands already caressed the healer’s naked chest. Desire lit up inside him just like the fire around which they lay. Toru turned his head and threw him a sheepish, yet inviting, smile. Varg shook his head gently. Not so fast. He would love to watch for a little while before joining them.

Claw put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I think your lovers call for you.”

“And I think,” Varg replied in a pleasant voice, “that I would like to watch them for a while. It is the surest way to stoke the fire in my loins.”

“Do you really need to wait?” Toru asked his innocent question.

Varg laughed and shook his head. “No, I don’t, but it gives me great pleasure to watch you both.”

At his words, Duril let out a small, embarrassed laugh and turned his head away.

“You made Duril blush,” Toru said loudly, expressing his amazement.

“I’m not blushing,” the healer protested. “My cheeks are red because of the fire.”

“Should I put it out then?” Toru asked.

Duril shook his head and pulled the young tiger closer for a kiss. It seemed that was enough to make him shut up. Varg and Claw traded a glance. It appeared that both of them didn’t mind watching for a while. Slowly, they removed their clothes. It was so hot already in that small enclosure that the cold outside didn’t reach them.

Varg began touching himself, letting one rough hand move over his own chest, down his belly to the hard member between his legs. Toru looked at him and his eyelids dropped lazily. The young tiger enjoyed watching, too, after all.

A low chuckle rose in his chest. Varg brought himself to full length and started moving his hand up and down, coating his shaft with the first signs of his arousal. As he turned his head, he saw Claw doing the same with his long dark member. They looked at each other, and Varg leaned in for a kiss. The bearshifter met him halfway.

“I want to watch the two of you,” Toru whispered in a strangled voice, branded by desire.

“You should mount me from behind,” Duril suggested in the same breathless tone. “That way, we can both watch our friends.”

Varg knew for a fact that one of the things Toru enjoyed the most was to watch his lover’s face while making love to him. It was no secret that Toru favored the healer and held him the closest to his heart, but there was no room for jealousy in his large and kind soul.

Varg found himself feeling flattered by Toru’s decision to watch him and Claw while taking Duril like that. That would also give them the possibility to watch the pleasure blossoming on the healer’s face while Toru took him.

Duril now had his behind pressed firmly against Toru’s body, and he leaned forward, offering Varg and Claw the sight of his round buttocks rhythmically pounded by the young tiger’s vigorous lovemaking.

He was lost in the pleasures ignited by the image in front of him when Claw surprised him by cupping his chin and turning his face. Varg keened as Claw took his mouth and began to love it gently. He certainly knew how to move his tongue to fire up desire in Varg’s bones, even beyond what he had experienced so far tonight.

Then, Claw released his lips and moved lower to tease his nipples and make him moan so shamelessly that Varg wondered if the sounds he was making wouldn’t wake up the sleeping forest after all.

That wasn’t the last destination of Claw’s journey across his body. No, it appeared that the bearshifter had a very particular goal in mind, and when he found purchase with both lips and hand on Varg’s stone hard member, it became quite apparent what he was thinking.

Varg growled and let his head fall back as Claw’s warm mouth descended along his length, engulfing it in moist heat. In that position, he couldn’t buck his hips to take more, but it wasn’t needed anyway. Claw took him all, down to the hilt, and lavished his shaft with deft movements of his tongue that triggered all the pleasure he could give over and over.

With each lick and flick of the tongue, Varg felt that it was impossible for him to experience more than the pleasure invading all his senses. Yet, Claw proved him wrong, again and again. There was no end to it. It was pleasure above pleasure, and he had no words to describe it.

Toru moved his hips faster and faster. He leaned over Duril and moaned while taking his lover’s lips and kissing him deeply. By how Duril replied in kind, with desperation only someone at the gates of no return could have, Varg could tell that his friends were as ready as he was to spill their seed.

He put a hand on Claw’s head and gave him just a little nudge. Nothing else was needed, and he felt his balls constricting and pushing his entire body upward, channeling all his passion through what now seemed like a too narrow path. His shaft stiffened and it had to be spewing its seed, because Varg felt like he couldn’t go much higher than that, and as he collapsed from the heights, his entire body trembled with the power of his release.

Claw moved and kissed him, giving him a taste of himself. Varg didn’t mind it at all and received the seed from his lover’s lips like a gift. Never a selfish love partner, he searched blindly for Claw’s crotch and sighed in contentment as his hand filled with that majestic dark member.

Without being told to, only guided by Varg’s hands, Claw stood to his feet so that his leaking shaft was now face to face with Varg’s mouth. There was no time to hesitate. Varg moved fast and swallowed his lover’s turgid member just as Claw had done for him earlier.

“Do you think I can take you again, Duril?” Toru whispered. “Look how Varg swallows Claw. You’d think he wants to eat him.”

Varg would have laughed at Toru’s genuine desires, but his mouth was so full that he couldn’t allow himself that. Claw caressed his throat slowly as if to help him deal with such a task. But, in all truth, Varg didn’t think that he truly needed any of it. His entire body sang in the pleasure of giving, and having a part of Claw lodged so deeply inside him made him feel slightly dizzy and elated.

Toru continued his passionate discourse. “Oh, Duril, they look so good like this. I want to do that to Claw, too.”

“And I would love to help you pleasure our bear,” Duril whispered back. “You would look so beautiful with that hard shaft between your lips, Toru.”

Varg moaned as he pictured that image in his head. Toru was usually so proud; it wasn’t that he didn’t act like a selfless lover, too, but there was a part of him that always fought. Just thinking of him surrendering to the pleasure like that made his own member harden again. He began stroking it, parting his legs and offering Duril and Toru the proof of his desire.

“Varg, kiss me after you take Claw’s seed in your mouth,” Toru begged in a strangled voice, “please.”

He couldn’t answer, seeing how his mouth was still busy offering pleasure to the bearshifter, but there was nothing else he wanted to do more after Claw spent himself in his mouth.

It appeared that all that talking had the same effect on the bearshifter as on Varg. Claw put both hands on Varg’s head and used his mouth while succeeding in balancing the roughness of his moves with the gentleness of his soft moans, as if he was asking for forgiveness, as his pleasure grew stronger.

Varg gave out a stifled moan as Claw began filling his mouth with fresh hot seed. The bearshifter fell to his knees and kissed him briefly as a sign of gratitude. On shaky legs, Varg moved over to Toru and Duril, knelt in front of them, and gave the young tiger the promised kiss.

The sweet groans and moans escaping Toru’s lips as he was kissed like that assured Varg that they were all on the same page when it came to pleasure.

“Duril, you must have a little, too,” Toru decided as soon as Varg let go of his mouth.

He remained there, in front of them, as they kissed, and then, he grunted in surprised pleasure as Toru grabbed a good hold of his cock and put it inside his mouth.

“Please share Varg’s shaft with me,” Duril pleaded.

He remained there, in the same position, while his other two lovers took turns in lavishing his member with their hot naughty tongues. It took them all little this time around, too. Varg was the first to spill his seed, but the sounds the others were making let him know that they were doing just the same.

***

They were all fast asleep after that. Varg woke up with the feeling that there was something or someone calling out for him. As much as his ears pricked to catch any sound, it appeared that it must have been a dream waking him up and not something else.

He watched his friends, their sleeping serene faces. Now that he had awakened, just as well, he could go for a little run through the quiet forest by himself.

He stepped outside. The silence was no longer as deep as before. There were sounds of wolves in the distance, and a feeling of longing brushed over his heart for a moment. With one last look at his friends inside the cave, he decided that he could allow the yearning of his soul satisfaction of some kind.

Would the wolves of this faraway place answer to his calling if he tried? Varg took a deep breath, inhaling the cold, fresh air. The scent of the frigid air reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite place what. The wind rustled through the branches above him, and there was a faint whisper as its icy fingers brushed against his face. His eyes were closed, and he began to sense a change in the environment around him. A slight shift in temperature, an increase in sound, and then suddenly...

“Who’s there?”

His voice was hoarse and raspy, but it echoed into the darkness. He had definitely heard something. Someone was near, examining him keenly, protected by the thick forest, and unwilling, as it seemed, to step out of hiding and expose their intentions.

Varg fell back on other senses. He sniffed the air to catch where the observing creature could hide. Yes, his nose didn’t lie. The intruder had to be a wolf. But maybe he was an intruder, seeing how he was a stranger to those places, and not the other way around.

“Show yourself!” He had the voice of a pack leader, ever since he had been young, and he hoped that the authority of his words would not ring hollow to the wolf in hiding.

From the thick brush, a young wolf emerged. He was lean, with ice-blue eyes and black fur. He looked at Varg with wariness but didn’t seem hostile.

Varg felt as if he had to be the one to assure the other that he presented no danger. “Why were you watching me?” he asked.

“You’re new to this land.”

“So are you,” Varg said in turn. The forest had been as good as void of creatures before they had come here and Toru had turned Niverborg and even the soul of this forest around.

The wolf seemed amused by his words. To Varg, he smelled like a young one, no longer a pup, of course, but the equivalent of a human in their twenties. That gave him the power seniority offered, and the somewhat offhand manner of this youngster seemed grating to him.

“We’ve been asleep,” the younger wolf explained.

“And now, you’ve awakened. That doesn’t mean that you’ve lived enough,” Varg pointed out.

The wolf stepped closer and, as he did so, he shifted into his human. He was tall and lanky, just as one at his age would look, but he had presence and carried himself with his head high, as someone entitled to those lands. He had dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His body was covered in leather and furs, but something of his scent told Varg that the young wolf was not much used to spending his time outdoors. He was too well cared for to be a wolf that spent his days and nights out in the cold, hunting his prey.

“My name is Olivier,” the young wolf said and bowed courteously.

Varg considered it only appropriate to shift into his human self, as well. Olivier continued to examine him with curious eyes. Was the youngster not used with the sight of an older wolf? It made Varg wonder, but he decided that he could hold off for a while, to see what the other had to say.

“You are one of them,” Olivier continued.

“My name is Varg. I hail from Whitekeep.”

“I have never heard of such a place,” Olivier murmured and his eyes drifted for a moment. “But, as things stand, I haven’t heard of many places. We’ve been trapped here for what seems an eternity.”

It all made sense. The creatures of the forest, no matter what they were, must have remained trapped in time, as Lakan’s existence alone had postponed the inevitable.

“You’re no longer trapped,” Varg said. “Niverborg is saved.”

Olivier turned slightly away from him and stared at the moon. “I beg to differ,” he said in the same soft melodic voice.

Varg found himself more and more intrigued by the wolfshifter in front of him. “How so?”

Olivier gazed at him with wistful eyes. “Well, you see, as soon as I was up from my slumber, my yearning to leave this place took me to the outskirts, or what I believe to be that. I was denied passage, once more, just as I remember before our big sleep.”

Varg frowned. “That can’t be right.”

“It is the reason why I started looking for you. We’ve only seen you from afar.”

“Why haven’t you approached us?” Varg questioned.

“You’re very powerful. Too powerful,” Olivier said in an enigmatic voice. “It is in your power to destroy us.”

Varg noticed something else in Olivier’s affable voice this time; there was a hint of fear, and that surprised him. Not only did wolves have to be fearless creatures, but to think that anyone would see their group and think they would cause anyone harm, unless evil or unprovoked—

He stopped this train of thinking and his eyes fell hard on Olivier. “What do you mean, too powerful?”

“There’s a dark aura around you,” Olivier explained. “I see you here, and I understand that it doesn’t come from you. But it stays with you, whatever it is. It makes us fearful.”

Such a simple admission, and Varg remembered the feelings he had gone through when Toru was fighting Drahlung on his own while they were becoming prey to dark thoughts. “I assure you, you don’t have to fear us.”

“I don’t fear you,” Olivier said. “Can I sniff you?”

Varg understood the demand. Could it be that the pack here had no leader? How many of them were out there? He nodded shortly, and Olivier moved closer. He took a delicate sniff of Varg’s neck and he appeared comforted, if the short exhalation he let out was any indication of his state of mind.

It was only understandable and desirable for him to do the same. Unlike Olivier, he didn’t clothe his intentions with modesty. He grabbed a hold of the young wolf and buried his nose into the crook of his shoulder. That told him a lot more than words could offer him. Yes, the wolf was young, and their pack had no alpha. Could it be that they were in search of one, just like the pack living by the marshes, where they had found the first shard?

Olivier inhaled sharply and moved away. He seemed a bit flustered, and that made Varg shake his head in mirth. He had seen that sort of behavior before. “Have you not mated yet?” he asked kindly.

“That shouldn’t concern you,” the young wolf said, turning his face away.

“It doesn’t,” Varg replied airily, just to see if a thing like that was enough to rile up the other.

Olivier pursed his lips and cast his eyes down. “Yes, indeed. Your companions, they are all your mates, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Varg confirmed.

A wistful smile passed over Olivier’s handsome face. “It must be nice.” Then, as if that was enough to convince him to be more malleable in their discussion, he volunteered, “That is the reason why I must leave this place. To find a mate.”

“You can’t be the only wolf here,” Varg pointed out. “Not one of them is to your liking?”

Olivier put his head to one side and gave Varg a slanted look. “It is more like I am not to theirs,” he replied with a self-deprecating snort.

That gave Varg pause for a moment. One look at the handsome young wolf in front of him assured him that the youngster left nothing to be desired, at least as far as physical appearance was concerned. Maybe his manners were a bit stand-offish, but that was hardly a deterrent. The way Olivier had inhaled his scent assured him that the young wolf could be quite passionate if he allowed himself the pleasure.

“I can see from the way you look at me that you expect me to give you some explanation as to why things stand this way between me and the others in the pack. You see, there is no alpha to speak of.”

Varg nodded. He had gathered that much, of course.

Olivier continued after a brief hesitation. “My parents weren’t born here. I’m, how should I put this? – an anomaly among the others. They don’t wish to mix their blood with mine. And since there’s no alpha to decide what to do with me--”

“You simply thought of making their choice easier by being the one to leave,” Varg continued when he noticed that Olivier was hesitating again.

“Yes,” Olivier admitted. “And since I’ve come of age – it did happen before our deep slumber – the problem of mating has become rather urgent. My kind seems to be that way, with an urge more powerful to have a mate compared to the cold-blooded shifters here.” The last words were uttered with an evident tinge of regret.

Varg nodded thoughtfully. “And you are saying that you tried to leave this place? How were you prevented from doing so?”

Olivier appeared lost in his own musings for a while before offering an answer. “We witnessed the great battle from a far. We felt the forest uprooting and we feared that we would be lost forever. But then, a new soul of the forest emerged, a gentler one. And I had hopes that my time to leave Niverborg behind had come.” He stopped for a bit, and his eyes became unfocused just like before. “I ran to the edge of the forest, and the moment I stepped onto the snowy plains, my feet wouldn’t move. I can offer you no more than what happened to me.”

Varg knew that he would have to see for himself if they were all still trapped in Niverborg. Anything was possible, and the way Drahlung had perished, cursing them for destroying the order he believed to have held this part of the world together, still rang in his ears and played before his eyes. There would have to be a way, without a doubt, and they only had to find it.

“You are free to join us,” he said.

Olivier threw him a questioning look.

Varg realized that he had to offer a proper explanation. “We are not the kind to let ourselves remain stuck in one place for too long. We’ve traveled Eawirith high and low until we reached Niverborg. And nothing can hold us if we put our minds to it.”

“That tiger,” Olivier said slowly, “he’s one of a kind, isn’t he?”

Varg could tell that the youth in front of him chose his words carefully so as not to insult. “He’s a hero,” he replied, his chest filling with pride for his close friend and lover. “He saved the world.”

Olivier’s eyes grew wide. “That’s astonishing,” he murmured. “How did he achieve such a feat?”

“It’s a long story.” Varg smiled and took the younger wolf by the shoulders. “Come with me, and together we will find a way to leave this place. But, first of all, I must ask you. Are you truly sure you want to leave? That is a decision you might come to regret later. It’s not easy being on your own. Do you have a place where you want to go?”

“I know my parents came from a place warmer than this. I don’t mind being a lone wolf. I’ve been just that for as long as I remember. The road calls for me.”

Olivier’s words echoed in Varg’s ears, reminding him of how powerful the call of the road had been in Toru’s soul, guiding him to follow his destiny. Maybe it wasn’t so different for this young wolf.

More so, Varg was curious about testing whether Niverborg still remained separated from the world like before.

***

Duril woke up as he sensed someone entering the cave. He blinked and rubbed one eye, then the other. It was Varg, followed by a handsome young man. The newcomer nodded in greeting, as he seemed worried not to wake up the others. The dawn was breaking, and they had to return to the castle, so there was no need for so much caution. It appeared to him that the young man wanted to make sure that he didn’t inconvenience anyone.

Toru and Claw stirred in their sleep, and Varg knelt by their side. To wake them up, he flicked their ears, making them grunt in displeasure. However, his tactic seemed to work, because both the young tiger and the bearshifter began to wake up.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties,” Varg joked.

The young man remained standing and a few feet back, his hands linked together in front of him. Duril couldn’t help notice how attractive he was. Something of his scent reminded him of Varg’s smell. Could it be he was a wolf, too?

Varg nudged both Toru and Claw to their feet. “My dear friends, this is Olivier. He’s a wolfshifter living in these parts. He tells me the most astonishing thing.”

Duril offered his hand to Olivier, who shook it with reverence.

“What’s so astonishing that I can’t sleep in?” Toru complained.

“Please, tell them,” Varg encouraged the young man.

Olivier stepped closer and looked at each of them. “Varg tells me the curse upon this place has been lifted, and that Niverborg is, once again, part of the world. But I have tried to leave it, and it is impossible. We are stuck here, just like before.”

Duril traded a surprised glance with Toru.

“Then we should just go and see,” Toru decided and made a gesture for everyone to follow him.

TBC

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