Happily Ever Mate

1

His lips kept dominating mine, sucking each other like we had never eaten anything else. I couldn't stop rubbing myself on his chest; my concealed moans from being devoured by his were driving him to the edge. I could feel his pre-cum in my hand. We weren't ever supposed to mix; a black wolf mixing with a white wolf was the devil's work at hand, yet here we were, ravishing each other as if we needed one another like we needed air.

We were of the same height, yet built almost opposite; as a white wolf, my complexion was white as dark snow, my eyes white as pearls, the moon shined through them, as tall but slim in body, I was no match for the man that roamed my now exposed chest with his though hand taping over my sensitive, sore breasts, stretching my bare skin till he heard my cries muffled in his mouth, all as his other hand rubbed my front lower abdomen reaching enough to grab in between my legs pumping into me his thick finger, he kept rubbing my clit against his harsh palm, a man built as one of the gods, muscles covered his body, white, pale skin with his clan's black hair, eyes as black as night with ice white Iris that would tear up your soul.

Lost in my mind, he backed; I whimpered, enticing him with a growl; I could feel the damp moist in between my legs; I have been married to my chosen mate for years; never once had we laid together; our marriage was a simple agreement to win the war against the man who has been ravishing me. With his exposed body, he takes my thighs, lifts me against my dresser, and rips what's left of my silver-colored silk nightgown, exposing my entire naked body. After raping me with his eyes, I couldn't contain myself as I started to touch my foreskin. He removed his garments, not leaving him with my now moist fingers, and he took my hand out of my aching body, taking me up against his hips. My legs wrapped around his lower abdomen. I felt his member pressing on my hot core.

Laced with lust, his voice spoke, "I need you now more than when I laid eyes on you, my mate." Moving his hips, he runs his shaft on my core, and my body moves to meet his, covering more of his post with my juices. "If we do this, there is no turning back," I had half asked him. I wanted him more than anyone in my life; how could fate be this evil to me?

My fated mate, who was so close to taking my virtue, just as before the man who had declared his desire for my flesh now as he did when we were but young in youth, was the current King, the King of the east side, yet just like my own pack, none who live in either kingdom know of our existence. To them, we are but their rulers; in any accident, we are but their frightening story of werewolves. "I hold no queen; you hold but a failed marriage; to a pathetic excuse for a ruler, who will you come to choose in the end? You belong to me! Mine!" He slowly rubbed his tip against my entrance; the heat of his coated cock made me quiver. As I whimper, the heat starts to become unbearable.

I took his hair firmly in my hands and pulled him closer. "It may be true that I am to be yours, but my marriage cannot fail; do not mistake my desires for my duty, I." He started to kiss me passionately. I had never kissed a man; I had kissed a boy, had him take my first, and after such, I never saw the bare body of any man, for I laid every night after I had been wed in the comfort of my solitude. As a young woman, I had my intimacy with his youth, which I believed would serve me as my everlasting memory. "Leave him, leave him, or I'll steal you away as my queen." I couldn't bear to leave him again, yet I knew he meant his words. A knock on the door stopped us both, and as we looked at the door, my white, long, thick hair fell over my sweating chest. "Who calls?" I asked in authority; I was still Queen.

"My Queen, your King wishes you to visit his chambers this instant," came the voice of his favorite servant. My heart is sinking; he never sends Isabella; under no circumstances does he ever send the love of his life to me. "Remain where you stand; I shall not be long," I ordered her in my aura; if I didn't, she would do as she pleased, the spoiled rat of my husband.

Letting go of my mate, he held tight to my hips. Looking deep into my eyes, I could see his pain. My heart felt heavy from the choices that were given to me. He knew my favorite was his. As he lets me go, walking away to take his ripped garments, my heart races. If Isabella sees him in the state he is in, no doubt I will end up enduring the pain of my husband's wrath. Taking my robe on, I ran towards him, taking his shoulder. Leonidas," I said as the door opened to reveal Isabella, who now had a devilish expression.

Gulping, my fears would consume me. I must not allow this watch to control me; she has no power of a queen. Using my aura, I commanded her, "You shall not speak of this to no one, that includes your King and lover. Head my words, you servant. I shall end you if you even try to fight my orders." She growled as she did when Leonidas took her by the neck. "You dare to growl to your Queen?" He snarls, returning all the arousal desires of our previous short encounter.

Isabella started choking on her breath. "Let her live; my King would punish me for harming his lover." After finishing the last line of my command, Isabella was dropped. I laughed as she started to move backward. This entire reason for remaining faithful will not last, and knowing this, I took my mate's hand. The sparks warmed me, soothing my fears that he had pulled me to his naked chest. A purr escaped me as I leaned to reach him with sweet kisses to his collarbone, and he growled in agreement. "Mark my words, servant, you harm my mate, and I end you," he threatened.

I gave him a slight squeeze on his hand, making him look back at me, his expression softened, "I will return, it may not be tonight, but I will return to you," he pulled me to his lips with passion; I eagerly allowed his mouth to devour me, letting go he looked at Isabella stating a silent death threat, he hasn't let go of my hair, turning it sideways where my bare neck was exposed, with his mouth he sucked on where his mark would be exposed too, I bit the insides of my mouth not to moan, even if the scent of my arousal was thick in the air.

As his lips left my neck, he placed his thumbs on my lips and caressed them softly. Holding my small frame in his hands, he spoke almost out of breath, "If you do not return to me, he will not save those who have harmed what is rightfully mine." Goosebumps rose all over my skin from his words. Taking a step away from this, he let me go. He was walking out with my long hair, smelling it as he slowly let it go from his hand. I could feel the tenderness behind his actions; he loved me.

Walking out of the room I was given, Isabella looked and decided to try something, she wanted to make sure I knew what she was capable of, but I refused to allow her any control; she and I grew together. Before we arrived, I felt the strength I had lost years ago. She was my most trusted maid; now, in my eyes, she is the gift I send to my pig for a husband. They live their happy crystal globe of love for mates. While I now live the life my heart desires, I needed to remind this servant of her place; taking my nails, I extend them towards her neck.

Isabella held the door knob. My nails extended when she started to move in, announcing us; my nails touched her mate mark, the same one I did not accept. After everything the devil did to me, wearing his mark would be the same as hating myself. She gulped, "A reminder Isabella, do not taunt me. You are not the ruler, and never will you be Queen, remember your place, and all is good." She gulped once more when she then announced us. "My King, your Queen is here, as you requested." A growl was heard from the inside of the room. Many would say I should not fear my husband because he is not as strong as my mate, but his mind is frightening. The doors opened to his room, and Isabella walked towards her mate. All while his eyes were on the map on the table he had set up in the middle of his room, he looked awful.

2. Seven Years Prior

My sights were on the delicate designs of wolves that decorated my white doors. In my posture, I, Louise Arktisk, shall remain still on my little round white marble floors. My room had an enchanting entrance. Unlike my nervous hands, whose shakes were hard to control, it distracted all the sighs from my room's beauty. For myself, it wasn't easy to remain in control of my body with everything relying on my shoulder. At the age of ten, I had to establish that I was fit to wed my welcome to womanhood on my eighteenth birthday to none other than a King of my clan.

Even in my mind, I doubted my power and ability to be fit; nothing would be the same after this encounter. This evening I'm to meet him; he would be my King, and we would be raised together to establish an alliance and court at our wedding. I could not be of disobedience; as the direct bloodline of my family, it was upon me to uphold my clan to victory. Since my infant days, I would be trained, learn my place as a high society lady, and then be the Queen Mother.

As my mother before me taught me to be loyal to my subjects, yet as a sword, a direct threat, when need be, to my competitors, the only thing I could not overcome yet was to give up on these foolish feelings, on these mystical stories of being loved by the one named to be my mate.

Only those blessed by our Mother could be worshiped from the heart. It was no hidden desire of my parents, who are both fated to one another; it was the heartbreak of learning the council chose for me as they did for my parents to unite my kingdom with my nearest alliance, the one that would tie the entire bloodline to one of the same species. We would finalize the line, and then our unity would be our own. He was not part of my family yet, but by the time of this marriage, he would be.

We needed this alliance. In these lands, there are only four species of werewolves: the highest of all, the black coats of the Fenrislfr, but of strength that could destroy the entire country if allowed. Their body features are all the same: black hair, black orb eyes with a bright sky blue iris, fair skin, and they are as tall as trees. According to rumors, they are known as the black wolves, who eat anyone from infants to grown men, which, to be frank, suits their barbaric hearts just the same.

However, my clan is known as Arktisk; my last name is my clan. With our dark snow skin, white hair, and white eyes, we are the sharpest minds of our kind, a strength of mind and wisdom, known solely as the white wolves of the north. As the doors opened, a young, slim man with the same definitions as mine stood behind both of our parents. The warmth my parents displayed calmed my nervous hands, which were facing me. They had walked past me. Staying still in my white Victorian ball gown, decorated in diamonds, I have my hands on each other on my chest, a costume from my upbringing.

Satisfying my King was a norm to uphold as future Queen in any way he desired, yet his attention was directed to my maiden, my best friend, Isabella. She had stiffened the moment my doors were opened; once closed, both rulers were divided, after which, once the prince had entered, he let out a short growl that did not please me; it was clear this wouldn't work. Withholding my expressions was an achievement that took me years to achieve. Yet how would he ever uphold his end of our duty? We had multiple responsibilities to uphold, one of which was to make an heir. How would we act when we aren't compatible?

Beta Ben was with another; they would introduce us. Standing behind the boy, the elder man spoke, "I, Elder Cameo, introduce Lady Loise Arkitisk, future Queen Mother, to you, young King." His face was distasteful toward me. Taking my left foot, I placed it on my toes, then bent my knees till my height met the floor. A proud growl escaped from either side: "The council's choice for a King and Queen, it is our greatest pleasure to introduce the young King Irvan Arkitisk, the last of his clan. With this union, the bloodline ties into one clan." Waiting on Ivan was proving to be difficult as he made me stay in this pose, yet behind me, Beta Ben spoke, "Young Irvan." A warning growl was heard from his mother; he moved his feet in the same motion, and with one hand, he took my hands that were in my face. My eyes moved to meet his when he spoke calmly, "It is with great respect that I meet you, Lady Louise." His words held no emotion for me. They are unpleasant to hear.

Those who surrounded us had a tension that would make the sides of one's sword blush. Taking a step back to lift myself, my facial expressions were those reflected by one's porcelain doll; his ignorance would be his destruction, and I intend to keep such behaviors to my advantage. My charming words disarmed him: "The pleasure to you, my King, goes without notice; however, my deepest apologies for not meeting your requirements, if I may be modest with my words?" I waited patiently for his approval to continue, yet it was clear he was angry.

Queens have higher wording than kings. However, a King's actions were not returned unless one wished for bloodshed; he did not answer; his hands abandoned mine harshly, to which father knight Ben growled in warning; Elder Cameo replied in Irvan's state, "In modesty shall you proceed, Lady Louise." I held myself firmly, placing my hands in the same manner but under my undeveloped chest.

Clearing my throat, I spoke softly, in my charm, "May I begin by requesting to use your name?" This brought a small joyous gasp from both our mothers; he closed his eyes not to show he had tried not to roll his eyes, let out a breath, then replied, "You may do as you please; we are to be wed; only a fool would deny such things from their wife, their queen." A slight disappointment was heard from his mother, yet I proceeded with a small smile, saying, "I too share your heart's desires, Irvan. Only we can rise together; I do not wish to be the thorn in your journey, as I wish the same desires from you. If it pleases you, we can begin with a simple trade of letters?" Irvan opened his eyes, reflecting to me that he was annoyed he hadn't come to this agreement, a fault I recognized immediately and recoiled with a sweeter expression. I took from the inside of my sleeping bag a small note I had written before our meeting.

Placing it on my lips, I lightly kissed it, an act to take place in the goodness of the council, in the eyes of our parents and those before us both. Placing the note in my hand, I extend it to him. Walking to me, he took this opportunity to overthrow me, yet he wouldn't win; he was my rival, and I would not lose. Taking the note in his hand, he turned my hand to kiss the top of it, and everyone in the room clapped in acceptance that we would make this arrangement work.

Ivan returned my hand gently and then spoke attentively, "This arrangement would benefit us perfectly. However, we must still meet in person at least once every other day; we have met today. We shall meet again on my moving to the east wing." I saw hope in his eyes, yet his eyes were directed to Isabella, just as they had been this entire time. I smiled, exposing a false sense of security disguised as excitement by skipping a bit in my place, earning me a shushed lecture from my mother, Louise, stop." I pressed my lips a bit to finish my theatrical act for the young, obnoxious, childish, ignorant, and arrogant excuse for a king.

The council seemed to be entirely pleased with both of our expressions towards each other as our parents and the council representative rose from their seated places to leave for the main hall. Pared between each other, they walked first from us in a fashionable order. First the council, then my parents, said his parents, and lastly, he held my hand tightly, then whispered in my ear, "It seems you've won this chest move." I held back a smile, yet in a whisper said, "Cheek mate."

3

Our last conversations were boring, as our parents entertained us during our walk to the main dining room. We passed the wall of glass that could show our land, which was always covered in snow, never disturbing the lives of others who commonly went on their merry way to then return to us again. Around our land, as it did for the other three rulers, were the villages of the Vargr. They were wolves that couldn't shift. They were always kept under watchful eyes, as my father warned prior; now he bragged of the power we would be holding, for the Vargr could create havoc at inappropriate times. I feared my father might be delusional.

Arriving at the dining room, Irvan assisted me to my seat, pleased with the arrangements for our circumstances. He was indeed a gentleman when his ego was not with him. Eating our dinner in a blink of an eye, I heard Ivan shout, mortified at what had come to happen to him. I was still not pleased by his natural nature, yet looking up at him, he stared at the pear. He had dinked his fangs in his hand, directing his concentration from my sight to the pear. His front two fangs were holding on to the pear for dear life.

My utilities had been dropped. Holding my modesty was proving to be the main challenge. Irvan's clothes started to become covered in his blood, and his low growl had earned him a good lecture. I kept chewing slowly on my meal, for I had no desire to harm him. His parents had done an excellent job of ridiculing him. Irvan had enough of his evening as he hit the table. "IRVAN!" His mother scolds, but the amusement within me warmed my rattled heart; perhaps my upbringing will prove a better husband could be suited for me.

He stood, dripping blood from where his old fangs had been. Finishing my meal, I carried on my theatrical tale of the devoted fiancée. Placing my hand on my lips, I allowed my eyes to water from the laughter within, yet I spoke in a broken vow, "My Irvan, how has this become of you? Should I assist you to the doctor?" I cried from laughter, yet no laughter was laced in my words. I moved our parents as if I had broken my heart from his inflicted pain. In truth, I couldn't have loved him more.

"Save your theatricals, Lady Louise! You hide your laughter behind shameful words of fake affection! My fangs!" A wolf's fangs only leave their host when their wolf is to be reunited with them; a change is to happen to their bodies shortly after. This was no laughing matter, yet Itvan had failed to realize such things. Having had enough, his mother held him by the ear, pulling him away. She scolded, "You disgraceful child! Have you no shame for your wife-to-be? Have I taught you nothing?" She shouted as she stomped her way to the clinic.

The rest of the table manners were resumed as the room became more tranquil, and the council elder began to speak to my father on my behalf. A woman must never speak out of place, always after, and accept what the man insists she can state, like a book they can read, but I cannot. While enjoying my meal, I heard their exchange of words.

"That young lad has a fire in him; quite the temper for a young King to have, and it would be a shame if his own Queen outmatched him. Mind you now; you hold a shared title for a King Irwin; make no fool of my daughter; her time as Queen will bring us to triumph against those who oppose us, but you are from the long line of Marquesses; have you been reminded of your loyalty?" Father clarified for him. After finishing my meal, I remained in waiting. "Yes, King Legolas, have no fears of my involvements; my son is to learn better obedience shortly," he replied sharply at my father. His words had me parched with knowledge. "May I speak, father?" I innocently asked my father, who growled at Irwin, the marquess, if my parents wanted the twins of the Duke.

Duke Jaxx and Duke Jaxton were the devil's howling dogs, monsters of one pure mind. Guinness was destroyed but gained the complete favor of four small kingdoms from the marquesses. I, a nearly ten-year-old, could never compare to the devils of just twelve. By far, all who dared cross them suffered even after their afterlife, as the rumors state. All at the expense of their boredom. This monarch was built to ensure success would be bestowed upon the chosen. I had the only direct royal bloodline. Because the mother could not bear any more children, the father denied further attempts to produce an heir.

After a short time, Irwin Marquess submitted to his father in obedience, displaying his neck. His father replied, "You may speak, my child." I smiled, knowing how I could demolish the competition. A lady who wants to be Queen must never falter in taking charge. Within my posture, I requested, "If it pleases Father, perhaps an invitation to have the twin Dukes of our neighboring country come to be Irvin's mentors?" Father retrieved his composure yet welcomed my suggestion with an attentive, prideful smile: "See what I told you, marquess? Already thinking like a Queen. My sweet Louise, your request is granted; you shall also join the fruits of this brilliant advice, messenger!" Father shouts, and our messenger arrives to take Father's words as fast as the air can bring the snowflakes.