Pendant of Fortune (6 page)

“
Really, Hef? I’d have thought you’d want to stay far away from that. Of course you can come.”

“
Thanks.” He fingered the gold chain on Volle’s neck. “What’s this? Something you got in your year away?”

Volle shook his head. “It’s been in my family for a while, but …” But Seir had told him not to wear it to Tephos, and Duke Avery himself had told him to go ahead and wear it on this journey. “I didn’t think it would fit my image as a noble. You know, it’s just a Ferrenian family’s heirloom.”

Helfer nodded and let the pendant drop. “Not so worried about that anymore?”

“
Not really. They know me now. Who I am doesn’t depend on what I wear or what I look like.”

“
Good philosophy. I look forward to catching up with you. And to getting to know this wolf of yours.” He flashed Streak a grin, and the wolf returned his smile.

“
You could stay here while I go up to the castle.”

“
I thought I was going.” Streak’s ears fell.

Volle lowered his ears, too. “I’m sorry. I kind of think…this first time I should go alone. I’ll take you up there tomorrow, I promise.” He wanted to be able to talk to Tish openly without having to shoo Streak out of the room.

Streak sighed. “Okay.”

Helfer walked over and patted the wolf’s side. “I’ll stay with you for an hour, then I’ll have to go look after dinner and take care of some affairs. But welcome to Vellenland, both of you.”

Volle smiled. “It’s a lovely country. You don’t have the accent, I noticed.”

Helfer shook his head. “Born and raised in Divalia, and so were my parents.” He grinned. “I get teased about that.”

“
I’m sure. Well, let us get settled, and I’ll call for the buggy in a bit when I’m ready to go up.”

“
Get ‘settled.’ All right.” Helfer laughed, then walked over to Volle. His soft brown paws clasped Volle’s larger black one. “It’s good to see you again, Volle. I’m glad you’re okay. Be careful, all right?”

Volle nodded. “I will. And thanks for all your help.”

“
Oh.” Helfer dug into a pocket and produced a sheet of paper with the King’s seal. “Alister asked me to give this to you until you get to the castle.”

Volle took it. “Thanks, again.” He put it down on the side table.

Helfer glanced at Streak. “Take good care of this fox, okay?”

“
I’m doing my best,” the wolf replied with a grin. “When he lets me.”

“
Help yourself to any supplies you need to ‘get settled’,” Helfer winked as he slipped out through the door. “See you in a bit.”

“
Let’s see the bedroom,” Streak said as soon as the door closed.

Volle grinned. “I know what’s on your mind.”

“
His, too, or didn’t you hear him?” The wolf wagged his tail as he entered the next room. “This is great!”

The parlor was large, with a frescoed ceiling whose four support beams were gilded, reaching to the corners of the room. The four panels of the ceiling created by those separators were each decorated with a scene featuring different Mustelids: in one, a village of weasels worked industriously under the benevolent gaze of their lord; in the next, an army of minks fought valiantly against savage-looking bobcats; in the third, a family of otters played by a stream; and in the last, a group of heavyset martens built a palace that was probably intended for the weasel lord depicted in the first.

The walls of the parlor were adorned only with a simple pattern, cunningly worked into the wood panels. The furniture was similar to the furniture in the outer room: simple varnished oak, sturdily constructed. There was a table against the wall of windows with eight chairs around it and a centerpiece of flowers; on the opposite wall, a sideboard with a chest of drawers stood. The small silver weasel statues on the sideboard proved to be candleholders, and Volle suspected that the drawers held the place settings for the table, but he didn’t inspect further.

A smaller room with three desks and two simple benches lay beyond the parlor. It had only two windows, one above each of the two larger desks, and the third desk seemed to be mostly used for storage. Between the desks was a large table that Volle paused at for a moment. He ran his paws along the surface, lost in thought.

Streak came up behind him and put an arm around his waist. “Something wrong, fox?”

The table had a raised edge, which Volle ran his finger pads along. “This table. It just reminds me of the one in the office beside Lord Fardew’s. The one their war plans were on. They had a map…” He drew his claws along the finished surface. “It was older than this one, scarred. And bigger. But it was this height, had this edge.” He ran his claws along the inside of the edge. “To keep papers on the table. They had paperweights too. I took the papers and…and ended up in prison.”

Streak hugged him. “I got you out.”

Volle nuzzled his cheek ruff. “So you did. I wouldn’t be here now if not for you.”

“
Did someone see you take it?” The wolf’s voice was soft and hesitant. They’d never spoken of Volle’s crime, nor of the prison, since the escape.

Volle shook his head. “I don’t think so. Dereath noticed the papers were gone, and saw me running away from him, but I’d already hidden them. He was convinced I was guilty anyway.”

“
He locked you up for five months without proof?” Streak was horrified. “I assumed they’d seen you take it…”

“
No. From what Tish told me, the King didn’t know much about it except what Dereath told him. That’s why they never took me to a trial, and that’s why Tish thinks we can beat the hearing. No evidence.”

“
That’s good.”

“
I hope so. Sorry, just…” He traced his paw along the table again and then gave Streak’s muzzle a lick. “One more room to see.”

“
Yeah.” The wolf’s tail wagged as they walked into the bedroom. Volle closed the door behind them.

The bedroom was narrow, but long. Three windows let fresh air into the room, and on the opposite wall was a large bed. A cushion had been added to the foot of the bed, extending it another two feet, and it had been made with fresh linen that spanned both the original bed and the addition. The extra two feet made it long enough for Volle and Streak, and Volle sprawled out on it immediately, stretching his arms over his head.

Streak licked his nose and then went to investigate the closet, in the far corner opposite the window. Volle saw the door open and then saw the wolf’s tail start to wag. “Wow,” Streak said. “He’s prepared for just about anything.” He sniffed up and down and then took a few things out. He padded back to the bed, holding them behind his back with a smile.

“
What?” Volle looked up into the grinning muzzle.

The white wolf reached down to one of Volle’s outstretched wrists and looped a leather strap around it. “I thought maybe we could relive our first meeting.”

Startled, Volle pulled hard against the strap reflexively, panting, “No!” as he struggled. His tail bristled out and he drew his body up. The leather around his wrist changed in his mind to metal, and the room seemed to grow colder. His chest tightened, and a small moan escaped him.

Streak dropped the strap, surprised, and Volle yanked his wrist out of it and threw it across the room. He sat up, still panting, ears back, and tried to smooth out his tail. For a moment, ashamed, he didn’t look at Streak, but the wolf sat beside him and he couldn’t help meeting the soft blue eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “I was in there for five months. I just…”

The wolf hugged him tightly across his shoulders. “No, no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you. You reminded me of that time and I saw the straps there, and I thought…I’m sorry, fox.”

Volle nuzzled him. “I know you didn’t mean it. We haven’t really talked about it. We just tried to start a new life at the farm and that’s what I wanted.”

“
Is it?” Streak licked his nose gently. “You seem really happy to be here.”

“
It’s good to see Helfer again.” Volle closed his eyes as the wolf’s tongue moved up his muzzle. The cold memory was already fading beneath that warmth. “I missed him a lot.” And he was glad to be back in politicking, he had to admit. The news that Dereath was here had angered him, but also excited him. He couldn’t wait to go see Tish and discuss what had been happening. His blood was racing and the scent of the wolf’s fur as he pushed his muzzle down inside Streak’s shirt just intoxicated him further.

“
Mmm, you must have.” The wolf giggled and nipped Volle’s ears. “Didn’t you tell me you and he weren’t lovers? You’re getting very frisky.”

“
We weren’t,” Volle said muffledly, nibbling Streak’s chest-fur and undoing his shirt with his paw. “It’s all you, sweet wolf.”

Streak giggled, trying to undo Volle’s shirt at the same time. Volle withdrew his muzzle and lifted Streak’s shirt, licking around the line defined by the wolf’s ribcage and down his stomach, which the wolf tensed and tightened as Volle’s muzzle brushed along it. Volle grinned and poked at the hard-furred surface with his nose, and enjoyed the wolf’s squirming as he did.

He untied the leather lace at Streak’s waist as the wolf was pulling off first his own shirt, then Volle’s. They lay back on the bed together and Volle began nosing down inside the wolf’s pants, inhaling the rich musk. His nose found the tip of the wolf’s sheath and the warm pink shaft already out of it. He exhaled across it and then pressed forward with the cold tip of his nose, flicking his ears when he heard Streak’s exaggerated yelp.

Using his warm tongue instead, he teased the ridged pink surface, tasting the small drop of pre that had already formed at the tip. The wolf’s paws stroked his tail as he licked, and the wolf’s member grew firmer and longer under his tongue. The musky smell, so familiar, intoxicated him; he couldn’t inhale enough of it, couldn’t lick fast or hard enough to satisfy himself.

Judging from the way Streak’s paws were stroking his tail, almost clutching it, he couldn’t lick fast or hard enough for the wolf, either. He wagged his tail’s tip and kept licking, and his licks became broader and wider until he found that the wolf’s maleness was entirely inside his muzzle. He closed it then and let his tongue wash up and down, curling around the now-rigid member and slowly unwinding.

A white paw strayed down to Volle’s pants, undoing them and sliding inside to cup the fullness of his sheath. The other kept stroking his tail, claws digging down to the skin as they moved through the thick tail fur. Volle pressed his hips into the wolf’s paw, starting to work back and forth while his muzzle held still. His tongue kept flickering until the wolf’s squirms became more pronounced and Volle’s own member was hard and full against the wolf’s paw pads.

Streak stroked back and forth, but distractedly, obviously more focused on Volle’s muzzle, which the fox had started to move up and down along the slick pink length. He teased the tip with his canines, pressing his tongue against the member as it slid back and forth, taking his time because he wanted the wolf to feel he was loved and valued, and he knew Streak wouldn’t want him to leave when they were done. He had plenty of time, and he was enjoying the feel and smell in his muzzle almost as much as the wolf’s softly stroking paw.

For several minutes, they made love gently, shifting weights slightly but keeping the same motions. Volle let his mind wander to Tish and what he would say when he saw him, and what Tish might reply, but he stopped thinking about the old wolf when he felt Streak’s paw quicken and realized his erection was subsiding. It only took a few seconds of focusing on the feel of the pawpads moving over his skin for him to restore it, and then he started moving his muzzle more quickly.

Streak thrust up into his muzzle, panting harder, and his strokes became less regular as Volle’s tongue brought shivers to his fur. Volle heard the low moans and felt the tremors against his tongue, and he wagged his tail as he started up the path he’d climbed so often with the white wolf.

Streak’s paw dug into the fur of his tail as the wolf moaned more loudly and his thrusts slid along Volle’s tongue. Volle felt the wolf’s paw tighten around his member, squeezing up and down erratically as his muscles tensed. He knew when the wolf was close, and knew when he was very close, and knew just when to stop moving his muzzle and wait for the warm rush of wolf musk to splash onto his tongue.

He wasn’t disappointed; the musk filled his muzzle as Streak’s howling moans filled his ears. He licked harder, cleaning off the seed as fast as it spurted out, smiling and wagging his tail harder. A few moments later, Streak lay back, panting. “Oh. Fox.”

Volle grinned and lifted his muzzle off the dripping member. He gave it a lick. “Nice?”

“
Very.”