The feather quilt was soft and light against Clara's bare body, its warmth rousing her from her sleep. The summer sun had risen, bringing with it the heat of the solstice. Not yet willing to fully wake, Clara buried her nose under the quilt. It smelled of the forest, and of Torbin. She let her dark eyes fall on his sleeping form beside her. He laid on his stomach with his head turned from her, his back rising and falling with slow breaths.
He had thrown back the quilt in the night, his upper body exposed. His skin was smooth, marked by scars both faint and pronounced, and Clara knew if she ran her hand over it it would be scorching hot. She almost reached out to trace her finger down the most prominent scar, a long white mark that crossed from his shoulder to the dip of his spine, but pulled her hand back.
She had been here for a week now, and despite the moments of intense intimacy they had shared, she found Torbin to be scarce. The morning after she had shown him the depths of her desire, she woke to find the cabin empty, and it stayed empty for the next two days. On his return he barely spoke to her.
Making up her mind, Clara slid from the bedding. She stepped quietly through the cabin to the door, her footfalls soft in an effort to let Torbin rest.
Outside, the morning sun shone hotly. The sheen of sweat across her skin reflected it, and she was grateful for the cool breeze that brushed against her as she made her way around the cabin to the spring pool.
Clara felt a small smile break across her face as she stepped across the soft grass to the pool. Her gait was confident; upright. In her past life, fearing a slap from her aunt at the slightest sign of disobedience, she had kept her head down and stepped cautiously. Here, she felt herself blossoming in her freedom.
Clara pulled her beige cotton nightgown off over her head, mirroring the confidence she had seen in Sarina when she did the same. Clara's smile grew, bursting into a giggle as she remembered their encounter. A heat flushed through her at the memory of the encounter, the image of Theon's wolfen form taking Sarina from above filling her mind.
Trying to push the image away, Clara plunged into the pool, gasping at the shock of the chill. Her pink nipples hardened at the change in temperature and gooseflesh pimpled her body.
Each morning after Sarina had bathed her here the first time, Clara had come herself, revelling in the shock sensation of plunging into the chilled mountain waters. Whether it was the newness of the experience, or the way her senses seemed to slowly be shifting and heightening since her Offering, Clara felt each touch to her skin with a focused pleasure.
The sound of the cabin door closing made Clara turn. The sight of the valley forest ahead made her pause, her breath catching for a moment at the way the dawn light fell across the carpet of green.
Torbin's figure appeared around the side of the cabin, stepping lazily toward the pool. He had pulled on his trousers but remained shirtless, and Clara couldn't help but let her eyes roam over the lean muscles of his chest and arms.
She smiled shyly as Torbin reached the edge of the pool. He did not return the smile, but instead ran a hand through his hair, his grey eyes locked to hers.
"You know that today is the summer solstice," he spoke.
Clara made no reply, feeling her earlier boldness shrink in her chest under his dominating gaze.
"It means I can't guarantee your safety. You have seen that I don't always have control over my changes. Sometimes the wolf is... stronger. The night of the solstice brings it out."
Clara nodded and looked down, thinking back with a shiver to the transformation Torbin had undergone as he had taken her against the wall of the cabin.
"What do you need me to do?" She asked, trying to summon back the confidence that had fled her.
Torbin's intense gaze moved off her as he considered the question.
"You'll stay in the house. I'll take myself off hunting stag, that'll keep me busy til dawn."
"Will you go with Theon?"
At the mention of his brother's name, a smile crept across Torbin's lips.
"No, that bastard is no longer chained to the will of the moon and the seasons. He likes to call me a late bloomer in that regard."
He chuckled dryly and met Clara's eyes once more. This time, she felt he was really seeing her. His gaze pierced her.
Crossing her arms across her exposed chest, she watched as his eyes slowly moved down her form, the clear water of the spring providing no coverage. As if absentmindedly, and without looking away from her, Torbin undid the buckle of his trousers and let them fall, stepping out of them unhurriedly.
Clara swallowed at the unexpected sight and couldn't help her gaze from falling to the swelling cock before her. When he left her alone at the cabin, her mind wandered perpetually to the way he had fucked her and how constantly she craved him. But when he was before her, she became acutely aware of her own inexperience. How little she knew of who he truly was.
Torbin stepped down into the pool, the water only reaching his mid chest, and moved to her. Clara moved backward until her she was pressed against the cold stone of the far side, her body buzzing with nervous energy.
Her mind went blank as he reached her, the heat of his skin slicing through the chill of the water like a blaze. He batted her arms away from her chest effortlessly and pressed himself against her, connecting their bodies. Clara could feel his cock pressing into her hip, hardening.
One broad hand cupped her under her chin and tilted her head up, closing the space between them swiftly as Torbin softly pressed his lips against hers. Clara responded to the kiss, unable to resist, parting her lips and moving into the embrace. Her breasts pressed against the rough hairs of his chest and she moaned as she felt his cock twitch against her.
Suddenly the heat was gone, chilled water swirling around her as Torbin pulled back and moved away.
Blinking in surprise, her wide eyes met his.
"I can't," he said, regret and mirth mingling in the expression on his face.
"What happened last time was... manageable," he continued, "but today... I don't know what could happen."
Frustration washed over her like waves, imagining the myriad ways he could take her in the spring pool. She nodded stiffly to acknowledge him, her arms returning to their place across her chest.
The two bathed in strained silence, Torbin facing away from her. He dunked his head underwater, his sandy hair matting to a chestnut brown as he emerged, water streaming from him. Declaring himself clean enough, Torbin left the pool, not looking back at Clara.
Alone, Clara sighed. The feel of his hardening cock touching the flesh of her hip had set off a chain reaction of sensations through her body. She thought briefly of pleasuring herself, but after having him so near to her, the thought of her own hand was not enough.
When she finally pulled herself from the pool, dressed, and returned to the cabin, Torbin was gone. The silent, empty day stretched ahead of her.
She busied herself with summer chores, airing and beating the feather quilt and the straw tick they slept on. She threw open the doors and windows with a little too much vigour, dust motes sparkling in the heavy sun of midday.
Clara was no stranger from hard work, and found herself falling into a familiar rhythm, her day eerily similar to one that she would have spent while in her aunt's home. Beads of sweat fell from her forehead and ran down the dip of her back as she scrubbed and swept the floors until they shone.
Her frustration was only eased temporarily by her efforts. When she flopped down on the wooden steps to the door to catch her breath, the heat of the sun seemed to make its way inside her, a gnawing pit of warmth spreading through her chest.
She hauled herself up and stepped quickly to the spring, gulping down a handful of water taken from its source in the rock face. The coolness of the water spread through her body, but the persistent heat inside her remained.
Thinking again of Sarina, Clara quickly de-robed and once again plunged into the spring pool. Even the chill of the melt from the mountain snow was lessened by the sun's oppressive rays, the water around her tepid and doing nothing to cool the unnatural heat in her core.
Sarina had told her that she would begin to change, and though Clara had been sceptical, she now believed her. When Clara inhaled the air of the forest, she could smell the rich, earthy scent of the life around her. When she touched the mossy grass that carpeted the ground outside the cabin, she could feel acutely each soft blade bending under her hand.
But the most noticeable change had been within. She had always felt a pulsing core of desire within her, but it had stayed muted in her past life, suppressed and pushed away, only embraced in the brief moments of dawn when she lingered between dreams and wakefulness.
Now, she couldn't imagine pushing it away. Even if she wanted to, she didn't have the strength. She understood now the dark hunger she had seen in Sarina's eyes as she had stalked over her.
Trying to push the alluring image from her mind, Clara hauled herself from the pool and clothed herself, hastily inventing more chores to keep her body and mind occupied.
