The Heir's Breeder

6

It took all of two days to completely give up on the notion that we could be in the same bed and sleep apart. The first morning, I woke to us being in the center of the bed with Tristan curled up behind me; he claims we both "moved in our sleep". The second night, I had another night terror. When we went to sleep after, Tristan just pulled me to his side saying that it was inevitable.

As uncomfortable as I was having a male beside me all night, there is comfort in being held, in waking up from a nightmare and feeling protected, feeling safe with the pressure and warmth overtaking me, consuming me. But I am always still slightly on edge. I at least know that he will protect me from others, but that doesn't mean I am safe from him.

Tristan always manages to vanish for the entire day, only returning in the evening to have dinner with me. There were only so many days of wandering before I had seen everything, or at least everything I am allowed to see, and started searching for something to do. When I was in the barn, my sisters and I found ways to pass the time with each other, often helping each other slowly try to keep ourselves presentable as a way to keep some dignity, never mind that it also made us easier to sell.

I found myself outside as much as possible. Initially, I had just wanted to walk the gardens and watch the pups, but I inadvertently found myself playing with the pups and....helping to brush out wolve's coats. It has never been something I thought about, but I stumbled upon someone helping to brush out a family member and found it nostalgic and oddly relaxing.

The next thing I knew, I was out in the garden every day after lunch and at least a few wolves would come. Most of the time, it was younglings, wolves who had only recently shifted and not yet come of age; they have the most trouble with keeping themselves clean and presentable. Sometimes, however, guards would come over after an especially demanding training or rough patrol. I never speak to the wolves, it's typically a quiet time, and I don't mind it with the younglings, but with the older wolves—I am always tense. Any of-age male is allured by my scent, and they are always a little stiff—both of us aware of what is going on in their head.

By the fifth day of me silently sitting on the balcony and staring out at the garden, the forest beyond, and watching the sun fade behind the trees, Rose finally got curious.

"What are you up to?" she asks in a cheery tone, peeking out from the inside of the room.

I took my time in responding, soaking in the quiet for as long as possible then sighing and facing Rose. "Nothing much," I shrug.

Rose keeps her smile as she walks over to me and sits down, "Why are you out here so much? I see you just stare out every day for hours."

I look forward again, fighting back the images her question, unknowingly, pulls up. My legs are curled up on the couch beside me and a pillow sits in my lap where I fiddle with my hands. "Before," I trail off, searching for the right words, "I was always stuck inside. Going outside meant that I was potentially being sold and even then, I didn't get to look around much. This world is so beautiful. The sun is so warm and the air fresh. It's just...pretty...to look at."

"Well, if you want," I look over to see Rose now fidgeting with her hands, "I could bring something out for you to do while you enjoy the outside?"

I turn to her, "Like what?"

"I see you looking at the art around the palace and Tristan's room," Rose starts, "I figured I could grab some paints for you and canvas."

I smile a little, almost laughing to myself. I shake my head then look back at Rose, "oh it's alright. I don't know how to paint."

"That's not the point. Art is about expression and what you feel. There is no right or wrong in it," Rose rushes out, not breathing, then laughs slightly, "And supplies aren't an issue here. I just figured it would be something enjoyable." Rose looks away, almost in shame—sorry she suggested as much.