Written in her Stars

°☆•One•☆°

Past

Enya

Lear had been written in her stars. He was her fated lover. They had been created for each other and could never be kept apart. 

Enya was as sure about it as about the fact that the sun would rise again tomorrow while she ran through the forest at his side, so fast that the thickly grown trees seemed to skip out of their way as they approached them, for fear to be reduced to dust by the force of their love. Feeling elated, she let her eyes follow flocks of scared birds exploding darkly towards the bright blue sky from the trees' crowns, before letting them drop in pursuit of the wingless beasts scattering away from her and Lear in all directions. The mouthwatering scent of their warm flesh, the sussurrus of the blood coursing through their veins reached her mind, making her close her eyes to better enjoy this part of herself, the werewolf part that she enjoyed more than the one of a magician which her father attempted to force her into accepting as her only identity.

Careful, Enya, focus, Lear's instruction whispered in her mind obliterated the thoughts of her father and her other life, and she opened her eyes at the last moment to avoid hitting an outcrop of damp rocks, the sound of escaping prey morphing into a distant rush of a waterfall, signifying that they were almost in their destination.

A few turns in the winding path later the dry soil under her paws turned into mud, then water, and, splashing unnecessarily loudly, playfully, Enya sent a myriad of drops of the cool, pellucid liquid in a wide arc that turned into rainbow for an instant as the flying water caught a few stray rays of sunshine falling upon them through the curtain spun of leaves trembling in the breeze above them, into Lear's fur.

He shook his head at her childlike behaviour but accepted her game, and, stomping his large paws in the shallow stream sent a shower of cool drops much larger than the one she had produced in her direction, making her shiver when the cold water reached her warm skin.

Enya shook herself mid-leap, choosing the moment with precision to make most of the water from her fur fly back to him who threw it at her, then preceded Lear at a wild run towards the small clearing well hidden from anyone's view by the tall,  uneven and crevice-ridden rock face from which the roaring waterfall kept tumbling into the stream since the beginning of time. 

She morphed quickly then, impatient to feel Lear's touch in her human form, and stood in front of his wolf, unabashed, her alabaster skin and damp hair glimmering like silver in the sunlight muffled by the encroaching forest, impatient for him to morph too and encase her in his strong arms.

And he, knowing her desires as well as his own, obliged with pleasure.

"I... I wish I could just run from home... and... and marry you... already..."

She trailed off, giving up on words, resigning herself to Lear's skilled hands, and lips, allowing him to take her breath away as he laid her on the lush carpet of moss covering the forest ground in their secret place. Her bare skin erupted in gooseflesh at feeling the sudden, damp coldness momentarily, the sensation gone, substituted by another, more intense, even as Lear's lips covered hers to muffle any sound she might make while his hands resumed their trail across her body, searching for and finding her most sensitive spots, teasing, driving her almost insane before sending her over the edge to a place where he would join her moments later.

"I love you, Enya, nothing else matters, remember it whenever your father upsets you. Soon you'll be of age, we only have a few months to wait and then I can ask your father for your hand in marriage."

"I love you, Lear," she muttered simply in reply, reluctant to spoil their precious, counted moments of togetherness by thinking about her father and his uncountable possible reasons for not giving his only daughter to Lear. 

They were mates, after all, and even though neither her father nor her brothers were like her, he couldn't stand against her and Lear's mate bond. Whether he liked his only daughter being a werewolf or not, that's what she was, and since she had met Lear, she refused to go against her nature. Her father had tried hard and failed to suppress this side of her while she grew up, but now it was too late, Enya had encountered her mate and she wasn't going to renounce and forget him to please her family. She was almost twenty-one, old enough to know what she wanted. Lear was as important for her as the air she breathed; he was her other half, a part of her without which she would never feel complete, her heart... and soul...

Her silvery eyes observing the green leaves gilded by the afternoon sunshine shivering in the late summer breeze in the crowns of the age-old trees towering like silent guards above them closed, while her lips opened in another sigh of longing as Lear's head, resting on her chest until a moment ago moved lower, the silky strands of his black hair flowing among her fingers as he freed himself from her caress to kiss a new trail across the expanse of her rosy, still oversensitive skin.

"Lear... please..." she begged, not certain whether she wanted him to stop or continue. "It's getting late, they'll be looking for me, I really... should... go..." her last words morphed into sighs of pleasure as Lear's lips and his long, gentle fingers worked their magic on her, coaxing her into forgetting everything apart from the two of them. Nothing and no one except their love, and this moment mattered, as long as they had each other, everything else would settle around them into perfection sooner or later.

Enya felt that wonderful optimism starting to slip as she ran across the forest again hours later, her wolf beginning to fear the encounter with her father. He had forbidden her to shift, and she kept ignoring him, hoping that he wouldn't find out even though deep inside she was certain that he knew. Now she was afraid, she dreaded returning home despite hearing Lear's wolf running behind her, lending her his courage through their mind link.

We will be fine, Enya, she registered his thoughts above the muffled sounds of his black paws sinking into the long grass growing in bright green patches under the trees. Not even the king will go against a werewolf bond, she perceived above the noise caused by a herd of deer, which their fast and unexpected presence scattered into a wild escape.

I hope so from the bottom of my heart, she replied even as she slowed down upon reaching the apple orchard which spread beyond the tall castle walls, hundreds of trees sprinkled upon the undulating hillside descending smootly to a vast lake's shore. Enya looked towards the setting sun, the disc of incandescent light slowly vanishing in the cool, dark waters. She was late, yet again.

Enya dragged her silver paws towards the ancient tree in whose hollowed trunk she kept her clothes during those rare hours of joy when she managed to escape from her life of a princess with Lear. There, she stopped again and turned to her lover, who stopped right next to her. She licked his ear playfully, and he rolled her onto the grassy ground without any effort, his wolf, just like his human, so much larger than her.

She squirmed underneath him, missing the ability to laugh, and he let her go. Not understanding why the thought seeped into her mind, but always trusting her instincts, she sent it to Lear. Should my father cause you any trouble, run. I'll find you.

Then she morphed and reached quickly for her hidden bundle of clothes, relishing the passionate look in his eyes. She could see herself reflected in his black orbs, her pale skin kissed by the setting sun, her silvery-blonde hair cascading in thick waves to her chest, covering her like a veil.

Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his soft, furry neck, missing the skill to hear the thoughts she knew were running through his mind. But she could guess what he would tell her, that he would not run whatever happened, that he would fight for her...

"I love you, Lear, I always will," Enya pledged, pulling her dress on hastily as her eyes found the distant setting sun again, the great disc reduced to a vague, orange smudge in the darkening sky far beyond the orchard. She had to hurry.

Closing her eyes, she pressed her cool forehead to the warm black fur covering Lear's head for a few moments, then turned towards the small, arched, barely visible door in the stone wall behind them and opened it, smiling at her mate one last time over her shoulder before walking inside.

The sound of his paws running back into the forest echoed that of her feet as she walked swiftly across the cobblestones of the castle's courtyard towards the Entry Hall, desirous of her next stolen moments with Lear.