Page 51 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

“I’ve had them set up a bath for you in the next room,” Dane said with a slight smile. “If you’re ready?”

I got to my feet straight away, glad for an opportunity to get out of the room. Dane followed me down the hall, opening a door for me where a welcoming bath of hot water was gently wafting steam.

“Use one of Axe’s shirts for a nightgown,” he said, handing me a pile of neatly folded fabric. “That’ll just about reach your ankles. There’s a drying cloth there as well. Just hang it up on one of the hooks on the back of the door and the staff will see to it. I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

“Outside?” I asked, in a quavering voice, then berated myself internally for doing so.

Where was the woman with fangs and claws from the barracks? Why was my voice a thin little thing, not much more than a whisper? And why did I swing between the two states with little impetus? In some ways it should have been business as usual for me. I’d shifted between multiple different personas at the keep, so why couldn’t I do that here? The realisation struck me that I was still just learning about the new part of me, something I needed to find out more about when I was finished washing.

“Outside,” Dane confirmed with a nod. “I won’t be walking in on you, but Darcy…” Dane was the most contained, the most controlled of all of them, so when his hand reached out towards me now, I was too surprised to pull away. “Neither will anyone else.”

He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and that was all, pulling away with a polite smile, but the burning blue of his eyes told quite a different story, one I pondered over as I ducked inside the bathhouse and shut the door behind me.

My heart raced just like it had when I had leapt into the ring after Axe. But I loosened the laces of my jerkin, stripping that off, then my shirt and trews, because I knew how much work it would’ve taken for the inn to supply this bath and it was a luxury not to be wasted. Once I was naked, the cool air playing over my skin; when I’d dropped down into the water’s depths and grabbed a cake of soap that smelled of lemons and lavender and started to smooth it over my skin, that’s when my eyes slid back to the door.

Could I hear the wood creaking over the muffled sounds of the drinkers below? Could I hear Dane’s long sigh as he settled against it? Did he press his body to the door, perhaps his ear, to try and catch the sound of my hands moving through the water? It seemed hopelessly egotistical to assume that. And yet, they were so intense, each one of the wargen princes, and that was both frightening and flattering by turns.

The soap slowed its passage across my body, becoming a much more sensual thing than just something to wash off the stink of the road. Because it wasn’t hard to imagine one or more of the wargen sharing the tub with me, that I rested against a broad chest, that hands other than mine took control of the soap and used it as a means to discover me. We’d been told over and over that a devout woman does not learn the pleasures of her own body, that she leaves that for her sworn husband to do and, in that respect, I’d been largely compliant. Touching led to sex which led to babies, and I wanted none of that.

But now? I was out from under my father’s thumb for certain, but I was also free of the gods’ oppressive gaze as well. The priests would’ve said otherwise, insisting that our gods ruled over the whole world, but I didn’t feel their presence here. This was a land ruled by the wolf gods and perhaps it was that which had my hands sliding to my breasts.

Men went on and on about that part of a woman’s anatomy, I’d caught that much from lurking in the barracks. Small ones, big ones that poured out the top of a girl’s bodice, they had odes for them all, but as my palms settled over my own, now bobbing breasts, I didn’t understand it. They were soft and rounded, just as the men had said, and for some reason that was a very good thing. Perhaps because men were so big and hard and angular, they liked the comparison.

Would I be similarly moved if I stroked the rigid chests of the wargen when we slept? I felt something clench down deep inside me, making me shift restlessly in the water, an echo of what Weyland had managed to show me. But right now, holding my breasts, giving them a squeeze, did very little, and I almost gave up, until my palms slid across my now-hard nipples.

I shivered, then paused, feeling a ghost of what Weyland had been able to wring from me. My fingers searched curiously, moving to circle one breast and feeling another little shiver as a result, but that was nothing compared to when my fingers clamped down on the nipple proper. They got terribly sensitive and aching when my monthly menses came through, but that was both alike and utterly different to now. At those times of the month, I carefully avoided my breasts, not wanting to anger the painful mounds further, but this? My fingers plucked experimentally, a small moan escaping my lips as I discovered very different kind of sensitivity.

When Kris had rocked himself between my thighs, when Weyland had placed his hand over my pelvis, I’d felt a restless kind of pleasure that hadn’t been fully satisfied. I always seemed to want more. Now, as my fingers worked at each breast, I felt some of that again. The sensation was both weaker than what they’d shown me and yet, at the same time, pleasure was a sharp knife twisting inside me. I moved then, faster, harder, water sloshing out of the bath as I reached out for… what?

“Everything all right in there, lass?” Dane called from the other side of the door, and I jerked my hands down as surely as if the priests had walked in and caught me at my ministrations. “Darcy?”

“I’m fine,” I replied, my voice sounding too high and warbly, making clear I was up to no good. “I’ll be out soon.”

I washed much more quickly then, scrubbing my body, though much more cautiously when I got to the place between my legs. I felt echoes of that same pleasure, even as I made no attempt to stimulate myself, and that made me wonder about the connection. But, aware of the warg outside the door, I got out of the bath, dried off and got dressed, collecting up my old clothes, just as Dane said, then opened the door.

He filled the doorway, standing there, staring at me with those fiery blue eyes. He tried to smile, but didn’t do a very good job of it. All his energy seemed to be directed to his gaze.

His brother’s shirt was huge on me, coming to my knees and yet not doing a complete job of covering my body. I’d tied the laces up as tight as I dared, but still the massive collar hung off my shoulder, made for a much broader body than mine. Dane seemed transfixed by this small display of pale skin, tracing the shape of my shoulder with his eyes until he forced himself to look away.

“A good night’s sleep,” he croaked, trying for calm and failing utterly. “That’s what everyone needs.”

But I felt an echo of his pain when we returned to the room and I found the wargs were in a similar state of undress to me. Boots had been tossed aside, as had shirts, leaving the three of them lying there in just their trews.

Axe and Weyland were discussing something, Gael lying in the middle of the bed with his nose buried in a book, yet they all looked up when we walked in. I got halfway into the room before I stopped, hearing Dane, behind me, remove some of his clothes, ready for bed.

“So…”

My throat closed up, wouldn’t allow another word past after I managed to get that first one out.

“Sleep here,” Gael said in a clipped voice. “Between me and Dane. It was agreed that we are the ones most likely to be capable of controlling ourselves.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that at all,” Weyland growled before letting his eyes slide slowly over me. “Though perhaps you have that right.”

“I’ll wear that shirt tomorrow, still warm from your skin,” Axe said with a smirk. “I’ll smell your perfume in my nose all day.”

“And none of those confessions are going to help our mate sleep,” Dane said, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder before steering me towards the bed.

I climbed on, seeing a mirror of my wary expression on Gael’s face as I did. I quickly dove under the covers, feeling all shivery, but not cold as I buried my face in the pillow. Then Dane settled down next to me.

“Pep will take you on a tour in the morning,” he told me as I lay shrouded in blankets. “We have some business to take care of, but one of us will come and find you and spend some time with you, if that’s alright?” I just nodded. “Well, good night then, Lady Darcy. Axe, turn the lamp down.”

A warm kind of darkness settled around me, but it was too densely filled for sleep to come yet. I could feel their body heat, smell their rich spicy scents, hear the sounds of their sighs, and I couldn’t have been more aware of the slender gap between me and the males either side of me. But at some point my racing mind had to set that all aside and eventually let me slip into sleep.

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