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(Page 2 of 11) The Portal Kingdom Papers: Dumian Prophecy by Lara Taylor
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Her lips drew back, revealing a canine that was substantial and long. She released a brief low growl.
He waited for a heartbeat in the shade, loathing the idea of stepping into the stifling heat of the late Ellurian summer day. The perpetual cloudiness often acted like a thermal blanket once spring set in; the change of seasons noticeable only with the change in temperature.
Ophelia glanced over her shoulder, made eye contact with a garden tender and gestured towards her basket. With a graceful inclination of her head, the tender came and collected it. At this unspoken cue, others began to gather up their things and make their way inside.
Chord saw the tension in Ophelia's posture and knew that she was still angry about the upcoming trials. He dropped his eyes and exhaled long and noisily, trying to release his own apprehension. He was no good to her if he was emotional in any way. One of his titles was The Anchor and for good reason. Sometimes he was all that stood between Ophelia and whatever had triggered the Alluid, or the wolf guise, in her.
He waited patiently for her to approach him. When she stood in front of him, Ophelia searched his face hungrily with her amber eyes. Chord remained still during her greeting ritual, else she growl at him or fix him with an angry stare and he so disliked the angry stare.
When Ophelia leaned forward to smell the skin of his neck, tracing the contours of the muscle with her sensitive nose, Chord leaned forward as well. He was well-versed in both Consortship and Alluid protocol. He inhaled, taking in her own personal scent of lavender and soil, fresh air and linen and some sort of musk.
Forgetting about their unwelcome visitor, he placed his hands on her waist and drew her near. He leaned forward to bury his face in her neck, in her scent, so important to a wolf. While he was thus preoccupied, Ophelia nipped at his exposed throat, causing him to start a little. She chuckled low in her throat.
Ophelia sank into his body, scrunching down a little to put her cheek on his heart, and he began to massage her low back where he knew it ached after a morning of gardening. She sighed and relaxed even further, allowing her eyes to flutter closed. Chord made a mental note to warm an herb pack for her later and that a hot bath would be in order for them both.
He tenderly tucked her thick hair behind her pointed ears and lifted the longest of the hanging loops from her shoulders and flipped them to her back. His hands slid up and down her spine in perfect contentment, a smile growing on his face as she relaxed into him.
Nessa, the High Mother's personal assistant, cleared her throat from the shadows of the interior. Chord sighed. Kane was no doubt agitated by now. Not that that would be anything compared to Ophelia in a state of agitation, but Chord wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible.
Chord took Ophelia by the shoulders and gently pushed her away from him. The face she lifted was dreamy until she saw Chord's face.
Remembrance transformed her, tightening her face until all traces of gentleness were gone.
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