Whisper Bloodrose

Chapter-17 Red

Chapter-16

Red

‘A war for a woman, it sounds like a bad bedtime story.' Raina commented, leaning against the door frame of Lucien's room. His leather clad back faced the Gamma, who held a straight face. The Alpha placed his palms on the window frame, through which he was staring at his kingdom. His blue eyes appeared to make out, every little movement that took place on the landscape, as he didn't blink for too long.

‘Fortunately you would not need one.’ He shook his head, not facing his wife and mate and continued staring at the land before him. Raina looked down. She sensed a faint anger in his voice. He was holding onto a last thin thread that could break and unleash a firestorm, anytime.

‘I am leaving.’ Raina sighed in a strong voice and did not waver from the fear of the irrepressible anger, of Lucien. He couldn't tell, if the sharp intake that the Gamma took was due to regret or relief, perhaps both.

‘I bid you farewell then.’ He declared in a voice, so unaffected that it even surprised Raina. She regretted, not leaving but coming to that man before leaving. ‘I can't stop you.’ He added.

‘You can. You are not.’ Raina replied with a bitter chuckle. She wanted to blame her fate, but ended up blaming herself for being tortured too long.

‘I don't want to.’ Lucien stated. It hurt, it shouldn't but it did. There was a familiar clutch in her heart, the one she felt when he left after using her. When he ignored her pain. When Whisper entered the palace.

‘You are not going to survive this, Lucien.’ Raina commented. The rancorous judgment made the said Alpha turn on his heels. He finally faced, the miserable Gamma behind him. His sharp blue eyes darkened with wrath and he stared his mate straight in the eye. This time she didn't look away, like she usually would. Turned out a certain Omega had inspired his mate.

‘Don't be so sure.’ He smirked furiously. His fist clenched tight, as he held back an urge to kill another werewolf; that too his own mate.

‘You too.’ She said then left. Raina had surprised the king. There was a new confidence in her; she did not fear him anymore. They were losing their fear in him and that scared him. Upon the exit of his mate, he turned back around to stare at the never-ending forest, but this time something else welcomed him.

The last time he saw the sky, it was crystal clear and a beautiful light blue in color. Now it was flaming, red. The sky was burning in the colors of fire, highlights of saffron and yellow against blood crimson. He immediately recognized the reason; it was a faction of Fierce Rise.

‘Dazzling.’ He sarcastically remarked to himself, with an arrogant grin plastered on his lips.

He was amazed again, when all the ruby shade in the sky, started accumulating at one place. Strings of the hue came at one place, like wrapping multiple threads on a spinning needle simultaneously. A huge fire ball was formed; like a second sun.

Lucien furrowed his eyebrows together and squeezed his eyes, now puzzled at the strange actions. Soon the gravity won over the fire sphere and it came falling down. Lucien was sure, it was meant to attack him; kill him before the war. Before he could run, the globe of fumes was only inches above him. With a fearful reflex, he raised his hand to cover his face and embraced himself for a burning pain.

It never came.

After minutes of feeling nothing, he opened his eyes and saw no change in the room; neither an addition nor a subtraction. Lucien than looked down again, this time, it wasn't green. His entire majestic garden was covered in a shady gray. The only thing the fire sphere left behind was ashes of the grasses and trees in his plot. A group of soldiers ran towards the area to check, the destruction; and the thing they left behind.

Lucien growled angrily, the silence of destruction was followed by a blood curdling voice. He wanted to scratch every wall of that castle, the castle he couldn't capture, Whisper. His nails grew longer and pupils narrowed, he was ready to turn. The long claws scratched the wooden window slit and he released an animalistic growl.

He felt a presence behind him and calmed down. He never liked showing his anger towards an enemy. Anger always displayed fear. His nails sank back, into his finger. His eyes gained back their humanity; if he had any. Then, when he felt his breathing at peace, he turned around.

‘Alpha you should see this.’ The Delta asked and extended a scroll towards Lucien. The Alpha glared at the message, the sighed and took it from the hands of that soldier. He opened it, and as he had expected, it was from a certain Omega.

The war is coming; even worse I am coming. Run, hide or loose.

-Omega Whisper Bloodrose,

Daughter of Alpha Saige Bloodrose

As he finished reading the letter, the corner of his mouth twitched angrily. His hand went to the side of his waist and he pulled a sheath from it. The Alpha stared at it with a smirk and produced a dagger from it. The Delta shivered, feeling his end come near. Even before he could plead for his life, or try to run; the knife had pierced his neck. Lucien had hit the bull's-eye of his neck.

With a damaged vocal box, he barely yelled, but gasped for air, even with a punctured throat. Then he died on Lucien's watch. The king, derived his pleasure from his death and smiled again.

‘I hate writing letters.’ He flicked his wrist with a breathy laughter, and the entire Forever Forest shivered.

…………………..

Whisper closed her eyes, and sat crossed legs, taking in deep gulps of air. Her hands were laid on his knees, palms pressing on them. She focused on having a conversation with her Omega, but failed. She had not talked to her Omega since the day, she ran from Lucien. It scared her, what if the Omega emerged on the day of war, determined to not let her kill him. She needed to take control again, like before. She wished Christian was here to help her, to build that connection.

Whisper inhaled deeply, and then exhaled the air. She knew meditation helped her contact her other half, but the Omega didn't respond, no matter how hard she tried.

Why aren't you responding?

Her chest heaved up and down and she focused on the image of her wolf. An average wolf, with hickory color fur. She tried so hard, that her head had started beating like her heart, but she was not stopping anytime soon.

‘Whisper, come here.’ Rebel nudged his neck towards his left, unaware that Whisper's back was facing him. He stood in the doorway, waiting for her to reply. It broke her meditation. Not like Rebel, was not intending to do it. It surprised him, how the sudden boom of the voice in the awfully silent training room did not startle her.

Her eyes opened slowly, as if they were unveiling a secret. Her lips parted slightly, and only then, she realized how dry her mouth was. She ignored her need for water, just like she had always ignored her other needs.

‘Rebel, you knew.’ She stated. Her voice was gruff from the lack of use. She rubbed her face with her hands and ran a hand through her hair to massage her tensed scalp.

‘I did, and perhaps that is the reason I interrupted.’ Rebel remarked, raising an eyebrow. She sighed; she knew very well that Rebel had come to take her and wouldn't leave until he had. She stopped trying to stay.

Their relationship might not be, forever but it was enough. Enough for Whisper to know, when Rebel lost control. Enough for Rebel to know when Whisper was broken. They had learned each other like a sacred chant, and every time they said each other's name, it felt like it revived them. Rebel was her relief, her recovery, her reason and her respite. Everybody needed somebody to hold onto; her entire life she lied, that she didn't. She stopped lying when he touched her. Like a touch, a mere touch of a rough hand, had renewed her. With his hand in hers she could go to core of the ocean and be back, then ask for a journey to the moon.

Rebel didn't know he could love like that, lest be loved like that. He was unaware that he was capable of giving this intense affection and compassion to anybody, until she changed it. Whisper was no more a word, it was a story. It was a medicine, like everything that was linked with that name was pure and devoid of sins. He could drink poison with the name Whisper on her tongue and he believed he won't die. He could touch fire with the sensations of her skin on his hand and he wouldn't burn.

‘I'll be out in a moment.’ She replied after a moment of silence.

……………

Whisper's hand was tucked under Rebel's arm as they idly wandered in the palace's garden. The garden wasn't even half as majestic as the one back in Seba. It still had that one thing, Lucien's garden could never have, peace. There was a beautiful calm vibe in that area, Whisper couldn't tell why it was there. Maybe because of Rebel's protective presence, or perhaps because there was a certain sense of freedom. Without knowing the reason of such joy in that place, she was not hesitant on cherishing it.

‘So you disturbed my much needed meditation, to wander to nowhere.’ She laughed slightly. Rebel could not begin to describe, how blissful he felt when the genuine sound of happiness left her lips.

‘You appear to appreciate that.’ He looked at her with a wide smile on his lips. For some reason Whisper was reluctant on accepting that smile, the smile never reached his eyes.

‘What happened, Rebel?’ Whisper questioned softly, now looking at the Rogue, who looked straight ahead and refused to meet her gaze.

‘I don't feel very well Whisper. It is not like I am not feeling this, rather I am sure something is about to go wrong.’ He whispered while looking at his shoes. She could sense that hesitance in him, he was almost scared.

Whisper wanted to comfort him, tell him that it was just a thought that would not go away. She knew better. She knew that these feelings, they more like warnings. She had felt these sensations herself. She didn't know how to describe them. It was just a strange rush in your blood, like the mind was beating continuously and was trying to grab the attention of the soul. No matter how much you want it to stop, it won't. It keeps going higher and higher, until that thing actually happens and the high is gone.

‘It will be fine.’ She soothed in a feather like voice. Rebel nodded, only to assure her that he was acknowledging her words. She leaned her head on his shoulder and linked the fingers of his hand with her own.

Rebel's nerves had only begun to calm down, when it happened. It was so sudden, that barely anybody comprehended it. Talon's voice boomed in the garden, he was calling for guards; the voice grabbed the attention of both Rebel and Whisper.

Her first thought was, Talon was in danger. The couple ran towards the main door of the castle that led to the council room, where the voice had come from. Whisper raced towards the door, with the Rogue king way behind him. His legs were shaking from a certain fear, not knowing what it was, only made it more terrifying.

They finally reached the council room. Rebel stopped at the door, not wanting to go in, scared of what he might witness. There was an awful and excruciating silence in the chamber. Darlene was there her fingers were loosely wrapped around the hilt of her sword, while she gazed at the floor underneath her.

There were four Rogue soldiers, standing silently and frozen in their positions. Talon was the closest to the door and beside him was Ace. The Beta's arm was covered in his own blood, a dagger in his hand and grief in his eyes.

Rebel stood frozen to the core, and stared at the center of the room. His mouth opened wide, and pupils dilated at the sight in front of him. He walked towards the corpse with shaky legs and a shivering hand. He had forgotten how to breathe, or talk, do anything for that matter. He could only see, see the ugly sight before him.

There lied an Alpha soldier, with a sword stabbed in his gut, Astera's sword. The sword she had made herself, sword which was built in the fire of her heart and decorated with a ruby of her own blood. But where was Astera herself?

There lied her lifeless body, not too far away from that of the Alpha. A dagger was stabbed into the center of her chest, meaning there was no way she could be saved. Blood poured from the deep wound and pooled around her body, coloring her dress a deep red.

Taking those few steps towards the lifeless figure had drained all the energy from the Rogue. Whisper was sitting on her knees beside Astera's face, staring at the deceased with eyes full of surprise and grief. His legs wavered like paper in wind when his feet had carried her close to Astera.

Rebel saw a pale face, sealed lips, closed eyes and a heart that wasn't beating. His lips parted slightly, as if to breathe, like the air coming from his nostrils was not enough anymore. He raised his hand to touch her dead skin, but before he reached any further his fingers shivered and he fell to his knees, beside Whisper.

A breathy sound escaped his lips and goosebumps rose on his skin. He extended his left hand in an attempt to touch his mother. He was still expecting that when he will touch the stagnant form of Astera, he will wake up.

Rebel touched her now pale face. It was still warm, like an Omega's is. The heat oozing from it was comforting Rebel's own cold hand, like Astera wanted to make sure that his son was fine, even when she was dying.

‘It is not a dream.’ He breathed and pulled his hand back quickly, as if he just touched fire.

‘Calm down, Rebel.’ Whisper soothed. She held Rebel's hand that was now trembling from the previous touch.

‘It is not a dream.’ He looked at Whisper with wide eyes, with honest astonishment in his eyes. He sincerely believed that it was a dream but it was not. ‘It is not a dream.’ He repeated and shook his head. Whisper squeezed her eyes shut and caressed his knuckles with her thumb in a soothing gesture.

It is not dream. I can't wake up. He was rapidly mumbling the sentences under his breath, not stopping to take in the essential air. His lips quivered but he went on like it was a sacred mantra meant bring his loss back to life.

‘Leave.’ Whisper commanded. Everybody filed out of the room, at the Omega's order. Leaving there king alone to cry. No matter how bad times were, a king must never cry among his people. His tears are like flood in the kingdom.

‘I can't wake up, Whisper.’ Rebel's voice cracked as he started pulling his hand from her grip. He was unable to breathe, his chest heaved up and down rapidly. Complete hopelessness escaped his eyes in form of tears. His bottom lips quivered and shoulder fell in defeat.

He was not hurt, he was not broken, and he was much more. There was a void in his heart that no one could fill, not even Whisper. No matter how honest and unconditional Whisper's love was, it could never replace Astera's. He could never give Rebel what his mother given him. Astera had taught him that family didn't start with flesh and end on blood. She was gone and Rebel felt alone, even when Whisper was there.

What injured him the most was, he could have saved her, only if he was there. If not saved her, he would have been by her side while her soul took its leave. He could only imagine how heartbreaking it would have been to die with her son’s name on her tongue and not having him beside her.

Astera always said she wanted to die like a warrior. She wanted nothing but her sword and her son beside her while she was closing her eyes. Rebel failed to fulfill her last wish. He had failed her in more than one ways; he had failed to save her, to fulfill her final desire. His insides were chaotic, on fire. He felt so empty; he was barely recognizing anything other than his own agony. He had slipped into forever darkness, until a hand pulled him out, Whisper's.

‘Rebel, she died like she wanted to. Let her go.’ Whisper wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed his back with her palm. A whimper escaped Rebel's lips at soothing action. He was desperate to let his misery out. The miserable Rogue, slipped from the warm embrace. The warmth of Whisper's blood resembled Astera's, it made his heart clutch awfully.

He held his mother's face in his hands and placed it on his lap. His hand softly brushed through her hair and caressed the earth colored skin of her forehead. He wanted to leave, unable to stand the lifelessness of her mother. He couldn't, he needed to say his goodbye, and the one he hadn't said.

‘I am sorry. I wasn't there. I am sorry mother.’ He sobbed. It was a sob that pierced Whisper's heart into a million pieces. It reminded her of when he lost Saige. She had buried all that pain, tears and sobs deep inside her, he was happy Rebel was not doing the same. Fortunately, he was letting his feeling out.

At least he got to mumble a few words to the lifeless body of his parent; Whisper was devoid of that luxury. He got to make sure that Astera had the funeral she deserved, but Saige, he was still lying on the house for all she knew. He bit his bottom lip and gulped all the surfacing grief, to comfort her lover.

Rebel extended his hand towards the dagger in her chest. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of it and pulled it out, so gently as if it would still hurt his mother. There was a hollow hole at the end of the hilt of that dagger. It was radiating wickedness and an unrivaled evil. A piece was paper was rolled and placed in the hole, Whisper was the first one to spot it and pull it out. Rebel was still holding onto that weapon.

She rolled the paper open and it had a message that explained it all. I am waiting, Whisper. I have fought for land, greed, pride, anger, enmity and things much worse, but this war is in the name of love.

Lucien had left his soldier behind, to strike when he wanted. That devilish Alpha killed Astera to tell his message. He wanted to break Whisper, so he broke Rebel. She was not even astonished, he was a man of wickedness, and he could do anything to prove himself. He made sure his message was just as painful as the war.

The angered Omega threw the paper at her side and sighed to keep herself together. She was brought out of her trance when she heard Rebel speak incoherent words. She was sure those words meant nothing to him and even he didn't know what they meant. Her eyes darted at his hands. His hand was wrapped around the blade of the dagger and blood had rushed out from his skin.

‘Rebel, what are you doing?’ She yelled in an attempt to bring the said Rogue back to his senses. He didn't even flinch. A deep shade of red was trailing down his palm and towards his wrist, faster than his heartbeat. Whisper had to grab his hand and snatch the knife from him, or he might have ended up cutting an important nerve.

She gently held his palm in front of her face and examined the damage he had done to himself. It was deep cut, blood was pouring from it, like a river after rain, wild and unrelenting.

‘Oh my god! What have you done?’ Whisper hollered again, only this time she got a reply. Rebel looked straight into her eyes, that anger in his blood shot eyes scared Whisper. He was already burning in revenge, he could have marched to kill Lucien then and there.

‘Make him pay.’ He whispered softly, but it was more threatening than the roar of a tiger, the drum of thunder and the scream of a monster.

…………………………….

Rebel was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He didn't want to cry, mourn his loss or shed his tears. He wanted to let Whisper know that she could rely on him, but he could not help himself. Why would Whisper lean on something so broken?

Whisper sat on her knees, beside Rebel's legs and grabbed his wounded hand in her own. She started cleaning the cut and the area around it with water. She was expecting Rebel to wince, as the water would sting at his wounds. Not one sound escaped his lips. She kept going. Dipping the cloth in water and cleaning his palm, until the crimson on it was vanishing and his pale skin was coming into view.

‘How did you handle Saige's death so well?’ He suddenly questioned. Whisper stopped, clutching the cloth tight in her hands, just like her heart was clutching in her chest.

‘I don't know. I am just used to bury my feelings, I am good at it.’ She replied not meeting Rebel's gaze and fixing her gaze on the battered area of his hand. She placed the cloth aside, once she was satisfied with her job.

‘Now we have another reason, to kill Lucien.’ Rebel chuckled bitterly. Whisper could not describe how hard she was missing that blue of his eyes. A vibrant sea color, that sparkled when he smiled. The mischievousness in them had disappeared like it was never there. The stars in his eyes were replaced by stones, making his eyelids heavy.

‘Honestly, I had enough.’ Whisper smiled sadly. Her fingers were now rubbing a dull yellow colored paste-like ointment on his cut. She did it so gently, it even surprised her, that the hand that had killed people, could give such gentleness when it had to.

‘I should have been there; she was, every time I needed her.’ Rebel commented shaking his head, as if he was disappointed by himself. Whisper rubbed another layer of ointment onto his palm completely covering the cut. She wished she could do that too, heal the wounds in her heart.

‘I should have been too, with my father. But destiny is cruel; we cannot always reach the right place on the right time.’ Whisper answered. She started wrapping the wound with a white red cloth to fasten the healing.

‘Whisper can I tell you my final wish?’ Rebel questioned. She stopped, again. It was a reminder that if they lost, they would never see each other again. It was warning that perhaps, it was a few last moments they were living. They were so close to their death, that Rebel thought it was the right time to tell her his final desire. She nodded and stood up, gazing into his now dull eyes.

Rebel held her hand with his own unhurt one. They looked into each other's eyes. Whisper was intending to find that wish before he officially said it, she was too impatient.

‘If we have to, then die with me.’ He declared. Whisper nodded again and agreed to his terms of war. Rebel initiated it. He pulled her down into his lap and her legs wrapped around his waist. She enclosed her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her thighs. Their lips crashed against each other in a soft kiss, their lips molded together. Whisper knew, she had a death companion.

…………………….

The night had started waking up. Stars were twinkling against the dark blue, almost black, but not so much black sky. It was a full moon, a bright yellow colored moon was watching upon the creatures of The Forever Forest. Even, the moon appeared to be astonished by the events that had happened after Whisper's birth.

It seemed like it was frowning sadly at the kingdom of Fragment, as the funeral ceremony of Astera Bloodrose started. Rebel was dressed in all black, looking stronger than ever. Only Whisper knew how shattered his heart was from the inside. But like he had been taught before, a king must never show his weakness, not to his kingdom.

Rebel was carrying his mother towards the boat. It was a ritual, only the child of the werewolf carried the body towards its final journey. One of his arms were wrapped around her knees from the back, the other one around her shoulder as he walked towards the bank of the Imperial river, a river with no end, just like the Forever Forest. Astera joked about, how Rebel would never be able to carry her, but when the time came he learned how feather weighted she was feeling. No weight of heart beats, feelings or strength.

Astera was dressed like a queen; she would take her farewell in all glory. She was wearing a long white dress, adorned in diamonds with her crown on her head. Her ring was still resting in her finger, Tyson's ring. Rebel remembered that ring as Astera's most cherished possession, she never removed it. Every loving touch that her mother had given him was incomplete without that ring on her finger.

Whisper walked beside Rebel, with a bunch of white roses in her hand and escorted him towards the boat. The entire Fragment had gathered to bid their queen a final goodbye. All of their heads were turned down in mourning. All the soldiers were holding the torches, it lightened the dark night. Jedrek was behind Rebel with Astera's sword in his hand. Darlene was leading the king with a lamp in her hand. The elder priest waited beside the boat with his own head down.

Rebel placed her lifeless body in the white colored boat carefully. Then Whisper placed the flowers beside her. As soon as her fingers were no more occupied, she entangled them with his. Jedrek passed the sword to him, and he placed it gently beside her sleeping figure.

‘No hour is as depressing as this one.’ The elder priest started. ‘Astera Blueblood, was an impeccable queen, a woman of valor and intellect. We prospered under her rule and wish that her coming posterity is equally worthy.’ He ended and gestured with his hands for Rebel to move forward. The internally broken Rogue stepped forward and pierced the skin of Astera's wrist. Holy red dripped from it, in which he dipped a satin cloth to keep as a souvenir.

The boat was gone, Astera was gone. A piece of Rebel's heart was gone with them. Whisper's inspiration was slowly fading away, until there was none left. She still held his hand, his death companion's hand. His hold tightened on Whisper's hand when he saw the boat drifting away and about to leave his eye sight.

………………………

Whisper was sitting against the headboard of the bed, with Rebel's head on her lap. His eyes had closed with relief, as she brushed her fingers through his hair and occasionally massaged his scalp. It was peaceful, and Rebel kept swinging between the poles of sleep and consciousness. It was hard to get him to sleep, the grief was too much and kept him awake for too long.

‘Two days, then we will either win or die.’ Whisper stated with a straight face. Rebel snapped his eyes open at the sudden and bitter declaration. He couldn't deny the truth. Rebel wasn't too upset with the thought of dying, what saddened him was, he never got enough time with Whisper. If only it could be a little longer, that somehow, time could take a pause, for them to start again.

‘If we are reborn, then I want to have you in my next life.’ He whispered, loud enough that only Whisper heard it. She didn't know how to reply, so she remained quiet. ‘It is too soon.’ He softly added.

‘Rebel.’ Her voice was suddenly too loud compared to her previous pitch. Perhaps, it was to grab his immediate attention. Rebel sat up and stared at her waiting for her to continue.

‘Yes, Whisper.’ He was now looking at her intently, as if expecting some type of danger around. Whisper smiled an honest smile, in reaction to which his own lips curved unconsciously.

‘I love you.’ Whisper said, just feeling a sudden urge to speak those words, lest she didn't get much time later. Rebel placed a hand on her cheek and caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. She leaned into the touch and felt a sudden wave of calmness take over her. He leaned in. The Rogue's lips grazed Whisper's so slightly, that she barely felt it, but what she felt was too satisfying.

He kept caressing her cheek gently, making her eyes close in contentment. With his other hand he tucked the stray piece of hair that had fallen on her face behind her ear. He stared at her face with pure admiration in his eyes. He had never seen somebody so beautiful, so pure, and so angelic. He marveled at her versatility of being a gentle lover and a fiercer warrior. His heart would swell at the thought that she was with him, and was giving herself to him so willingly. With his thumb he stroked her eyelashes delicately, and she sighed releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

‘Open your eyes.’ He breathed. Whisper obeyed. The blanket of her eyelids uncovered a beautiful green wilderness. Her eyes were slightly wide and they were almost talking. With their lips only inches apart, Rebel let her feel his breath on his lips. It made her crave further.

He grabbed her wrist and slowly raised it to his lips, kissing the tip of each of her finger. Whisper almost melted at the touch of his lips on her skin. His hand found their way to her lips and stroked her lower lip lazily.

‘I love you too.’ He replied and in no time, she felt his lips against her own. His arms embraced her body, like a soft wind engulfing a flower and leaving it quivering. She melted in the embrace and wrapped his arms around his neck, her finger combing through his hair. Their lips molded together and Whisper took a while to catch up with him, eventually Rebel slowed down letting her catch up.

‘Make love to me.’ She mumbled against the kiss, making him pull away. Rebel stared at her searching for signs of doubt and he found none, so he went further.

Rebel placed his head in the crook of her neck and his lips touched the area teasingly. Whisper's breathing had become shallow from pleasure and she bit back a moan. He bit into the soft skin sending Whisper into an endless state of Euphoria. She pulled at his hair harder, failing to keep still. She was writhing under Rebel's hold. He sucked, nibbled and lapped until the once tan area was purple.

‘Rebel.’ She moaned loudly, eyes squeezing tight from feeling such delight for the first time. Her head fell back from desire and she didn't even realize when her hands were gripping his shoulders.

‘Be patient, darling.’ He whispered seductively in her ear. His voice was deep and husky, increasing her craving even more. He licked the shell of her ear with the tip on his tongue, and felt her squirm in his hold. His hands went under the skirt of her dress all the way to her thighs and stroked it. Whisper groaned with need into his ear. He tormented her further by nibbling at the spot between her collarbones, with an attempt to tease her more.

His hands stroked the areas between her legs, with his teeth pulling the sleeve of her dress down. Whisper was a panting mess underneath him. She moaned his names more times, than he could count on his fingers. She raked her hands on his naked chest, felt what intimacy felt like.

It was longing, pleasure and joy all brought in one place. The same stars that had hidden, unwilling to witness the torture Lucien had done to Whisper, twinkled brightly to witness Rebel making love to her.