QUILLA
Violence, blood, death.
Before Kyra brought forward the joyous memories of my parents and my family, the only memories I had of wolves were from the day I was taken by Cain.
Violence, blood, death.
The horrific memories of that day rush forward from the depths of my hell, wrapped in images of bloody fur, the thick scent of fear, blood, piss and shit, and the excruciating pain of my first broken bones: Cain’s favorite tactic for subduing me.
My vision fills with red. The coiling scent of wild bergamot grips my throat. Viggo’s face warps grotesquely into Cain’s angry dark features.
I stumble backward from the personified evil, my skin crawling. My bones burst with pain forcing a terror-filled cry from my throat
“Quilla!” Arms catch me before I hit the dirt, but I can’t escape the smell of blood and citrus or the monster surfacing in my memories.
“Please, No!” I scream and writhe, choking and sinking under the weight of darkness.
I hear my name being called again, arms gather me up but all is drowned by evil spewing in my memory.
“Cursed fucking bitch,” slap.
“This is just the beginning,” kick.
“Lykanos will end with you.” punch.
The pain builds until it bursts from my throat, vomit burning as I spew on the dirt. My stomach retches and cramps until nothing but air and bile drips from my lips.
The slow clarity that comes after my stomach empties on the dirt is a welcome escape from the waking nightmare.
I feel the warmth of Viggo’s palm running up and down my back.
I hear my mother whispering words of comfort.
I smell my father’s strong reassuring scent as he pushes my hair from my face.
I see the moon rising over the red oak tree on the knoll.
I taste the relief in the air as I lean back against Viggo’s chest with a deep sigh.
Seated in the dirt, my vomit between my legs, my parents crouch in front of me, staring with deep worry etching their faces. Neo’s face is streaked with tears.
“Quilla, what happened?” She asks, reaching to cup my cheek and brush my own tears with her thumb.
I don’t even have the words to explain and am surprised when Viggo answers for me.
“She had a flashback. I’m so fucking sorry, Quilla.” he presses his forehead against the top of my head, his arms tightening around me.
I don’t even know how he knows, I’ll hazard a guess it has to do with the mate bond. Whatever it is, I’m just glad I don’t have to attempt to explain what just happened.
“No Viggo, this is on me. I brought her here. I should have known better.” Neo replies clenching her fists, her emotions choking her words.
“Enough.” Sebastian says firmly. “The only person to blame is already dead. What Quilla needs now is rest. Viggo get her out of here and both of you get cleaned up.”
I bury my face into Viggo’s armpit, drawing on his scent as it cocoons me, and a wave of unexplainable calm sinks over me.
As Viggo rises off the ground with me cradled in his arms, I keep my nose buried in his armpit where the strength of his scent chases my demons away.
Inside myself I feel Kyra’s helplessness as she watches my breakdown unfold, whining her sympathy in my ears.
What Cain did to me occurred well before Kyra became a fully fixed part of my psyche. With every episode I have ever had she has been a frustrated witness to my trauma. I know she wishes she could help.
Viggo’s lycans part and make way for us as he carries me out of the training fields.
Embarrassment eats at me and I groan, burying myself further into Viggo’s chest. I had one goal coming to this execution: to at least attempt to step up to this insane role thrust upon me. I couldn’t have failed more. I’m too damaged to be the Queen this pack needs.
“Stop that. You have nothing to feel ashamed about. My Lycans do not judge you. You are their Luna. They love you.”
Viggo’s matter-of-fact words make me raise my head to look at him in surprise.
“How do you know everything going on in my head?”
His eyes soften and a small smile crinkles the corner of his mouth.
“Mate bond. You know you can do the same to me, you just haven’t had time to explore using your links before. It will come with time.”
I glance wearily at the passing faces of the warriors, a pressure building in my head. I push against it and Viggo stops walking.
“Let them in, Quilla.” he says and I breathe deep as I relax in his arms, letting the pressure building in my head relax.
A sudden wave of emotion fills my headspace. I gasp at what I find. Warmth, warmth, compassion, and yes, love.
My eyes flick open as I look over the bowed heads of the lycans before me.
I cannot even fathom what I’ve done to deserve such undeserved devotion.
“They don’t even know me, how can they feel this for me?” I manage to choke into Viggo’s skin as he begins to walk again.
“They love you for what you represent. The future of Lycanos. This pack is nothing without you and they will die for you and they will die if they let you down. So will I.”
I don’t know how many times I’ve heard Viggo say this to me but I don’t think it’s ever really sunk in as it does at this moment.
Viggo killed his wolves for me. I do not feel any remorse for them. My deep sense of self-preservation breathes easier, just as it did when Cain took his last breath. There are two fewer wolves in the world who prioritize their pleasure over my well-being. My world is safer, and Viggo made it happen.
Viggo’s face is cast in the shadows of the night, but I see him with sudden clarity.
He keeps his promises.
As the tendrils of my darkness wane I sink into Viggo’s protective embrace, lulled by the gentle rocking of his steps away from the fighting grounds and deeper into the woods.
Kyra peeks with deep interest as we venture further. The woods are old. I can scent their anciten age as we pass redwoods that are taller and thicker than any I have seen before. The air fills with the quiet sounds of the evening, animals and insects either bedding down for the night or readying to start their day.
“Your woods are beautiful,” I murmur, feeling calmer the deeper we venture.
“Our woods,” he corrects me, “This forest has never been felled, it is forbidden to cut a single tree.”
I lean against his chest and enjoy the darkening, peaceful scenery passing, wondering where we are going but not having the mental energy to even ask.
My ears catch the faintest sound of water running over rock. The scent of moss, and damp stone hit me just as the trees break into a mirage of a small, secluded rock pool.
A wall of glistening stone, flecked with brilliant multicolored crystal veins rises above a shallow pool with a gentle flow of water spilling down to fill the crystal blue pool below. A light mist of gentle steam rises from the surface in a beckoning, warm call.
Nothing but the sound of our breathing and the gentle trickle of water can be heard. I hold my breath not wanting to disturb the magical quality and peace before me.
Viggo lowers me to the ground, holding me against his chest as I steady myself. His stormy, smokey scent swamps me, and every frayed nerve I already have unravels further.
“How do you feel?” He brushes my hair from my face, a touch so gentle but feels like an earthquake rattling my bones.
“Like shit,” I sigh.
“The pool is thermal, I think a good warm soak will do you good. You’ll feel better when you are clean.” He lets me go and I feel the loss of his warmth. I wrap my arms around my body as the cooling night air bites at my skin and, cicadas rouse with an evening chorus.
I can still taste and smell the vomit lingering on my taste buds. Streaks of blood cover my skin where Viggo had me pressed against his bloody chest. I cringe at what I must look and smell like, although my inspection of Viggo determines he looks even worse.
His usually immaculate trousers are soaked in blood where his warrior’s arteries sprayed the last of their life onto him.
My eyes trace the smears down his blood-splattered chest. A tantalizing soft pelt of dark hair, leads down his ridiculously ripped abs to the promised land below.
Biting my lip, I slip my hands under my armpits lest they decide to go on another unplanned journey.
Viggo begins to unbuckle his belt.
“What the heck are you doing?” I blink as he turns and walks toward the pool, continuing to pull the leather through his trouser loops.
“I don’t bathe clothed,” he says matter of factually over his shoulder.
His pants drop to the ground and I shut my eyes in reflex making myself dizzy as I spin around blindly to face the forest.
“Holy salami on rye, Viggo. How about a warning or something.”
“What part of bathing implied not being naked?” I hear the amusement in his voice, but keep myself determinedly faced away.
“Well, I missed the part where me having a bath turned into we.”
There is no response from him and several seconds pass while my ears strain to hear what the heck he’s doing.
Unable to stand it any longer I tentatively peek over my shoulder, “Viggo?”
I’m pretty sure I’ve found the cure to my PTSD as I catch a glimpse of Viggo’s tight muscular ass peeking above the pool before he sinks under the crystal clear water.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, my throat very dry and my pussy quite the opposite. The terrors that haunt me take a decided back seat as Kyra surges forward to join eagerly in my voyeurism.
“Hopefully soon, mate.” He chuckles again. “Are you going to stand there all night watching or join me?” His voice carries over the sound of the trickling water and singing cicadas.
What on earth is this male thinking? That I’m just going to get butt naked and suddenly join him in a skinny dip? Ridiculous. He just seems to have no problem getting butt naked whenever the urge hits him it seems.
Viggo makes his way wading through the pool to the wall where the water trickles down like a shower. His broad back muscles ripple as he washes the blood from his body. Pink streaks run down his skin over the fabulous shape of his trim waist and hips. My entire body burns just watching him. I clench my thighs against the desperate pulsing between my legs holding back a hungry moan.
“Quilla,” Viggo sings my name over his shoulder. “ You know you want to come here, so just come. It is not that hard.”
“I seriously doubt that.” I quip drily and his booming laughter bounces off the rocky walls and causes a owl somewhere nearby to hoot in surprise.
“It’s your choice. Stay there and wait, or join me. But I’ll be here for a while so it’s going to be a long wait if that’s what you decide.”
How the heck Viggo knows so much about me irritates me to no end. But he’s right. I so want to hop into that warm pool and inspect the goods that he’s offered me many times already.
I can’t think of a better way to end this fucked up day, one that has followed the several fucked up days I’ve had this week.
Finding Grace, fighting a bear, almost dying, meeting my parents, getting marked, moving across the country, almost getting killed again, and PTSD. I think I deserve some cake.
“Fine,” I grumble resolutely, “but no peeking,”
“No promises on that one mate.” He quips with a pleased tone.
Okay. I got this. I’m just getting naked like I’ve done every day of my life before a bath. This is just that. A bath to get this crap off me. I pep talk myself as I take off my blood-stained t-shirt and dusty jeans and pile them on top of Viggo’s pants.
There just happens to be a very sexy, naked lycan in the pool with me. A horny one at that from his scent carrying over the water.
The bond between us sings inside of me. It’s song, a plead for completion, has only grown louder and stronger with each passing day. Every nerve in my body is begging to feel Viggo’s touch.
I have a moment of insecurity as I ditch my bra and stand fully naked in the open woods with the night air kissing my skin.
I’m fully conscious of all my ungroomed state. The hair between my legs is a soft dark forest andI frown as I inspect my unshaved legs, and cross my arms under my too-big breasts, wondering what the hell Viggo sees in me.
Kyra surges forward, angry at the dozens of self-deprecating, negative thoughts running through my head.
She has no doubts, no reservations. She never has when it comes to Viggo. She knows her worth and I feel her encouragement, her pride, and my skin shimmers with the overwhelming desire in her heart to go to Viggo and accept what he offers.
This is what she wants.
Surprisingly, this is what I want too.
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