Page 50 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Alphas are a little sturdier than Solvekh she-wolves, I assure you.

Her mind drifted to Eidan as she climbed. He still hadn’t returned from whatever business had required his attention away from Sabletail Castle, and she realized she’d never even thought to ask him what he had to do.

Not that she had any right to know.

But what if it was dangerous? What if had to do with that other clan, the Bloodmoons?

After hearing the alphas discuss them in the Council Chamber, Fern couldn’t help but pick up other bits and pieces from the Lurvekh while she worked.

Talks of scouting, training, small skirmishes and raids along borders…

All while Fern swept in the corners.

One afternoon, after everyone had left and the Solvekh had gone to the kitchen for their own meal, Fern took a moment to look out one of the tall, thin windows.

The rain had finally stopped, and with Midsummer approaching, she could practically see the humidity in the air, a heavy haze that caused the wolfkin to sweat as they worked.

Several hadn’t bothered with tunics anymore, taking them off and working half bare. Fern swallowed as she watched, their arms thick and chests broad and dusted with hair. Her fingers twitched at her side, and her mouth watered.

Bodies, made for fighting, for protecting, for…

Heat unfurled like a blossom in the sun low in her stomach, a strange dampness growing between her legs.

Was this what the lack of touch could truly turn her into?

It was pathetic. Almost as pathetic as the soft whine that escaped through her lips.

She ignored the footsteps in the room, until they paused.

“Is that delicious scent coming from you?”

Fern whipped around, gripping her broomstick in her slick palms.

A wolfkin had entered, his skin glistening and tinged pink from exertion and sun. His pupils dilated and he sniffed the air around them, his hand slowly grabbing the crotch of his pants.

“Why… how are you smelling like that?”

The dampness between her legs grew slicker, and it was almost like the wolfkin could tell, fighting with himself to get closer but knowing he couldn’t.

“It’s not fair, Ashpaw,” he growled.

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” she said, surprised she found the will to speak.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “A fucking tail-tease, aren’t you?”

Fern shook her head. She didn’t want to tease anybody. Because if anything, based on the way the slightest bit of friction against her nipples and down below was like lightning shooting through her veins, she wanted very much to see things through with the next wolfkin who approached her.

She’d let them do whatever they wanted to her.

He took a small step towards her, then snarled and stopped.

Her heart pounded. If she met him in the middle, would he—

A Solvekh entered with her arms full of linens, and the wolfkin moved instantly, lunging with terrifying speed. He slammed her chest-first onto the table and yanked up her skirts, untying the laces of his pants with one hand while the other held her still. He ordered her to stop screaming as he mounted her.

Fern couldn’t watch this. She ran as fast as her injuries would allow her, past the kitchen, down the stairs, and through the sleeping quarters until she reached the bathing room.

Stripping off her dress and blanket, she jumped straight in, shock from the sudden cold paralyzing her for just a moment. When she surfaced, she found the closest bar of soap, heat coming off her skin in curling ribbons of steam as she washed her neck, under her arms, between her legs… anywhere that might produce a strong smell.