The paintings made by Iona were lined on a wall in the antechamber that led to their bedroom. "Gods, Ileus!" she rasped. "What if Cora finds out that they are missing?" she said as she peered at the paintings. Her husband was full of mischief.
Ileus came and wrapped his arms around her waist and said, "She won't. By the time she wakes up in the morning, she will see them. I have got them only for the night."
Anastasia giggled as she clutched her husband's arms. He kissed her on the temple and said, "You can continue with your research on these, honey, but before that you have to fulfill your bet."
"What bet?" she asked as her attention went to the largest painting.
"Something about making me come a dozen times." His erection was pressing against her belly already.
"Ah, I see," she teased him. "Well then, let's get inside."
The next moment Ileus picked her up and took her in the bedroom as she squealed. He set her feet on the bed and looked at her with his bright golden eyes that swept a gaze over her face. Anastasia laughed. She bent and kissed the tip of his nose. She got down and walked away from him with a teasing smile. She removed all her jewelry lazily and when she turned, she found that her husband was already naked, and that his massive erection faced her. Her cheeks heated up like a thousand suns. "Are you going to make up for three days of my absence?" she asked.
"No, I will make up for them later. This is only for tonight," he replied promptly as he waited for her to fulfil her promise.
When Anastasia took her gown out and tossed it away over his clothes, Ileus hissed in a sharp breath. His wolf was clamoring on the inside to grab his mate. Languidly, she removed her lacy bra and threw it over the pile and then shimmied out of her panties.
"That's it!" he said and lunged at her. She shrieked and tried to run away but Ileus caught her, hauled her over his shoulder and took her to the bed. "Never tease a werewolf!" he growled as he crashed his lips on hers and thrust his erection at the same time. Her body arched in response and her nipples grazed his chest every time he thrust inside her. He came inside her with a bellow to the ceiling and then slumped over her, mindlessly thrusting. "I can never get enough of you Natsya," he whispered. He didn't know what he would do without her for three days.
When the two finished, they were totally exhausted. Ileus was lying beside her with his face buried in the crook of her neck.
"What am I supposed to do in the temple?" she asked.
"The High Priestess will make you pray to the wolf deities every day. They have a strict regime, which you have to follow. The Shaman who is the head of the priestesses, is a holy man who rarely meets people. The only people who he meets without any appointments are the king and the queen. I don't know if he will meet you. He is a powerful man for he runs the temple, but he is loyal to the kingdom and hence neutral in his approach."
"I don't want to meet him," said Anastasia and turned away from Ileus. She closed her eyes as he wrapped his arm around her waist and the two went off to sleep with nervousness for the days to come.
Nightmares revisited.
She floated in the gray smoke. The smell of putrid flesh and bones made her retch. She forced herself to touch the ground and found herself walking on the black and gray paints. Her feet splotched as she walked in it towards shadows that were slowly taking shapes.
"Mother!" a voice shrieked in the background. It was filled with pain and fear.
The smoke swirled around her and she slipped on the ground, no, an abyss. She kept falling back in time, in the night, in the darkness until she was small and helpless and looked like… little Maple.
She could see a man clearly, his gray skin and black hair in the dim torch light of the room. His eyes were a yellow slit and they were half closed, as if in pain. He looked at his daughter. And over him was standing Etaya… with a dagger in her hand… the jambiya.
Maple ran to her father and covered him with her body. "No Mother, no. Please don't do this."
The man lifted his head to kiss her. "I have to go, my precious child," he whispered.
"No Father, no. I won't let you go. We don't want to rule Vilinski. I want you. I love you a lot."
"My precious baby," he cupped her face. His breathing was ragged. "I love you and your brother more than anything else." His hands trembled on her cheeks. "I will return. You have to be patient."
Etaya came forward, with her face as white as that of a ghost. "You should leave this room Maple. Sedora will soon come."
Maple shook her head. "No, I will not leave my father." She was howling.
Anastasia could feel the pain of the little girl. She wanted to get out of there but felt so trapped in little Maple's body.
Thunder sounded with a loud clap of lightning on the outside. Loud unintelligible voices rose. Gusts of wind roared.
"Go Maple!" Etaya shouted. "Trust me. Your father will be safe."
The swirls of gray smoke intensified around her. Etaya lifted the jambiya.
—
Anastasia jerked open her eyes and found that she had walked to the antechamber and was standing in front of the paintings. Her skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. She was panting. She clutched the sheet she must have around her and looked at the largest painting. The nightmare felt so real that it spooked her. Why did she see Serapah in her nightmares? What had he got to do with the paintings? And did Etaya kill him?
Her gaze flitted to the armoire in the painting and her fingers went to trace it inadvertently. She could feel strange energy over there, something so eerie that it didn't make sense. Iona had captured the curtains fluttering on the window very well. Anastasia's eyes examined the rest of the painting and she could make out the bed, the canopy overhead and the flowers in a vase on a study table. But everything was badly blotched and blurry. And why was it that while the curtains swayed, the rest of the fabric in the room was still? She touched the curtains and a sharp icy pain hit her fingers. "Ah!" she removed her fingers as if jabbed by ice needles.
"Anastasia!" Ileus' sharp voice distracted her. She whipped her head at him with wide eyes.
"Ileus," she said in a breathless voice. "There's something in these paintings that I am unable to figure out!" She pointed at the painting. A wild panic rose in her chest making her breath shallow. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She felt weak.
Ileus came and immediately wrapped his arms around her and she fell on his chest. "There's something she wanted to convey…" said Anastasia and fainted.
