The Guardian

Chapter 15

Oh, I loved writing this chapter!

Truth is an elusive mistress. Once uttered, she can destroy your shackles, but she can create them too. Once out, she demands respect, attention, importance.

She can create. She can destroy.

Much like the Moon.

For the wolf, the truth made him proud. In a world where a mate was rare to come by, having a Guardian as a mate was a matter of pride, power, and privilege.

For Xanor, the truth was what he had wanted to hide. The truth was what he tried to deny. Overcome in a moment of instinctive passion, the beast had rushed to the front, guiding the skin's voice, making the skin speak.

Had the truth let him free?

Or had his gyves tightened?

Xanor? Did you hear what you just said?

He stared out of the window blankly. The growing Moon sneered at him. The irony engulfed him, and he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

He nodded.

I do.

"Funny, isn't it? How the best laid plans of wolf and man are broken into smithereens at the whims of gods?"

Ximi laughed. An unhappy, malcontent, exhausted laugh.

"Will you accompany me to the library tomorrow? I would like to read the ousted books."

"I swore that I shall accompany Kamaria-"

Please.

His eyes begged her.

I need-

She nodded.

"I shall try."

***

Kamaria sighed as she tossed around on the mattress, sighing. Sleep eluded her; the bleeding hadn't ceased and her womb was on fire. She growled silently, praying to the Moon for relief.

She swore as the rising sun's rays hit her eyes.

It's no use trying to sleep.

Sighing, she decided to get ready for the day. Ximi had promised to take her to the library.

She threw the covers, and stared back at the bed, checking for any stains. Aina had been scared out of her wits the day before when she found the bed splotched with blood.

Kamaria walked up to the mirror and checked her skirts. Straightening the girdle around her waist, she proceeded to discard the moss napkin.

Ximi, you are a wonder!

Stripping, Kamaria stepped into the bath. Aina had prepared a hot bath for her in the night, but she had dozed off before she could use it. The fuming waters had turned frigid in the night and Kamaria shrieked with delight as the icy water sent thrills up her spine.

Her skin erupted into goosepimples and the hairs on the nap of her neck stood up as she splashed the icy water on her back. She moaned, her breasts had grown ridiculously sensitive, their peaks erect as the water trickled down her skin. The water lapped at her sex, the gelid water a stark contrast to the heat in her womb.

Kamaria felt trapped.

She was tired of the skin.

She wanted to be free.