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Dreams of Destiny

Chapter 28

Yeneneshe prayed as hard as she could, prayed that Ayni would bring her to Mogethis, wherever she was. She was furious that Zeinara had purposely lied and manipulated her, pretending that she knew where Mogethis was just to secure her help! And then that big breasted bimbo, threatening to hurt her! She wished Ayni had taken Zeinara and Kayya both! She should have told Asres to let Ayni's fire burn them, let them rot and die. Ayni must have burned them for a reason! But Zeinara was Asres' niece. And Ettoras cared about Kayya, so she should care about Kayya . . . She didn't want to hurt Ettoras and Asres.

Asres wasn't aware of it, but Yeneneshe had sometimes stumbled upon him at his shrine, praying to his little bird statue with tears in his eyes, beseeching Maret to reunite him with his family and with Taiga, the sister he'd lost so long ago. Yeneneshe knew what it was to lose a sister, to lose parents, and had always wanted to hold Asres, to remind him that she was there and that he wasn't alone. But no matter how she tried to fill the void Taiga had left, she could not. And she was soon to realize she was foolish for thinking that she could.

But Asres had lost more than his sister. Aside from Taiga and his family, he had also lost a lover, a male he called Feven. He whispered the name with tears in his eyes, his praying lips brushing paws that were clasped before his mouth. Apparently, he and the lover had been on bad terms prior to his death, and Asres prayed for Maret to carry his apologies to Feven in that place where the dead went to be reborn.

Yeneneshe couldn't hope to understand what it was like to lose a lover, but the thought of losing Ettoras - who she had longed for so many years -- gave her an idea. Asres had known too much pain in his life. Losing Zeinara so quickly after finding her would likely devastate him. So no matter how much she disliked Zeinara, Yeneneshe knew that it fell to her to protect the princess and see to it that she lived. If only to keep Asres intact.

Yeneneshe was beginning to think that if she just got Zeinara to Wychowl, she could be rid of her and Kayya forever. Asres would be safe from Maret's wrath. And then she could set about finding Mogethis on her own. Wychowl was the perfect place to start, as it was the last place Mogethis had been seen.

But should Yeneneshe really bother? Maybe Mogethis didn't want to be found. Mogethis had a psychic link to her siblings, a gift of Yfel that allowed her to See her siblings wherever they were, that she might watch over them. She had likely seen the deaths of the others who, according to Gallus, had been imprisoned at Wychowl. So she would know if Yeneneshe was alive. She would know. Which meant . . . Mogethis had never come for her. Had never bothered!

It was something that had occurred to Yeneneshe the moment Zeinara revealed that she knew Mogethis, and the very thought enraged her. All these years, she had believed Mogethis and the others dead. But no. Mogethis was alive! She was just content to leave Yeneneshe to her fate while she raised Zeinara instead! If anything, Yeneneshe wanted to find her sister just so she could yell at her.

Yeneneshe went still when she heard noise in the hall. She had run to a secluded room far from the fire. There was a dusty, collapsed bed against the wall, and she was lying on it with her back to the room when she heard someone coming. A tattered curtain hung in the doorway, and it rustled as it was pushed aside. The strong musk of Ettoras hit her nose and she shivered. The scent of him took her back to that elegant room in Canderly, back to the carpet burning her knees, back to her anus straining as Ettoras plunged his enormous way under her quivering tail. The hurt, the humiliation, it still burned through her, and she glared over her shoulder at him.

Ettoras winced at her anger. His ears flattened and he smiled.

Yeneneshe hated that he was so handsome. There he stood, big, beautiful, and uncertain, his golden wings rustling behind him nervously. His muscular body was still wrapped in the coat he'd taken from Canderly, but it was so short on him, his strong thighs were bare to her, and they flexed when he took an uncertain step into the room and paused. He was having trouble finding his way through the dark, and she turned away again and smirked: foxes had better night vision. He was more dog than he appeared.

"Are you alright?" Ettoras asked.

Yeneneshe's years pricked forward to hear the genuine concern in his voice, but when he took a step toward the bed, she hissed for him to stay back.

"Why?" he asked.

Yeneneshe snorted at the hurt and surprise in his voice. He had been kind enough to heal her backside after her took her, but she still remembered the pain. And the humiliation.

"As if I would let you near me again," she said in a low voice.

"I had no choice," he said apologetically. "I tried not to hurt you."

"You failed," she said, more harshly than she intended. "You didn't have to touch me at all. Did it not occur to you?"

"No," he said honestly, and his voice softened as he whispered, "That never occurs to me when I look at you."

Yeneneshe swallowed miserably but said nothing, hugging herself tighter and wishing she could disappear.

"I'll . . . leave you alone," he said heavily.

Guilt stabbed her heart to hear the sadness in his voice, and when she heard him turning from the room, she sat up. "No," she said apologetically, her ears flat against the long sweep of her white mane. "It wasn't . . . your fault." She swung her legs over and sat on the edge of the bed, and when he sat beside her, she nervously went still. He was looking at her and smiling almost dreamily.

"So you're the female," he said into the silence. "The one from the water . . . the one who sang."

Yeneneshe looked away. "You could be mistaken."

"No," he said almost breathlessly. "I'd know you anywhere."

Her ears pricked forward to hear how wistful he sounded. She slowly looked at him and smiled. His large thumb touched her chin, and he looked at her lips. She blushed to her hairline when she realized he was thinking of kissing her.

He frowned softly. "You kissed me before."

"Yes," she said, shyly turning her face away. But she could still feel his touch and closed her eyes, savoring it.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Yeneneshe frowned at the floor. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Yeneneshe scowled. "Because I wanted to! Why do you think?"

Ettoras laughed softly, and the sound reminded Yeneneshe of Zeinara. Did he have any idea how much he and his sister were alike? Except Zeinara flirted with dirty words, while Ettoras didn't flirt at all, just stared at her with his doting eyes. One blue and one gold. They were such nice eyes and had such a pretty shape. Yeneneshe had to resist looking at him for fear of getting lost in them.

"You're not . . . related to me in some weird, unexplainable way, are you?" Ettoras asked at length.

Yeneneshe's pink nose scrunched up. "What makes you ask that?"

"You said Zeinara's uncle was your father --"

"Adopted father," Yeneneshe corrected bitterly. If only she really belonged to Asres and Gallus. If only such things were possible.

"Oh," Ettoras said with a sigh, and he sounded so relieved, Yeneneshe glanced at him in amusement. He gave her a handsome half-smile that made her heart skip a beat, and she quickly looked away again.

"Do not trouble yourself with me," Yeneneshe said quietly. She hunched her shoulders and hugged herself, and her white mane tumbled forward like a veil to hide her. "I have watched you in the water so long, I thought maybe Yfel meant for you to be the one . . ." She glanced at Ettoras sideways but looked away again.

"Be the one to take you," Ettoras supplied apologetically, and Yeneneshe knew he was thinking of the awkward way he had taken her under her tail back at Canderly.

"Yes," Yeneneshe said darkly. "But you took the wrong place! Maybe you aren't the one . . ." She sighed unhappily and frowned as she tried to understand. "But then, why did I see you in the water all these years? That must mean something."

Ettoras shrugged. "Maybe it meant nothing at all," he said, staring thoughtfully at the wall. "Maybe it was a happy accident, two lonely souls connecting . . . like clouds passing in a storm."

Yeneneshe smirked.

"What?"

"You're sensitive."

Ettoras gave her another half-smile. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"It's a good thing," Yeneneshe returned, trying to hold back a smile as she turned her face away. "But . . ." She frowned unhappily. "We shouldn't speak. We shouldn't . . ."

"Fall in love?"

"Yes!" Yeneneshe said irritably and blushed to her hairline. "If the gods meant for someone else to take me, forming an attachment to you would - stop laughing!"

But Ettoras kept laughing. He sighed the laughter away and shook his head. "Geez. Given how much you seem to hate her, you sound a lot like Kayya."

Yeneneshe made a face. "I do not!"

Ettoras laughed again.

Yeneneshe shook her head and angrily looked away. "You do not understand. You grew up in a world where the old ways were lost. For all her shortcomings, at least Kayya's mother tried to raise her in the old ways, with a sense of respect for the gods." She glanced at Ettoras sympathetically. "Didn't Azrian teach you anything about our world? About where you came from?"

Ettoras looked at his knees and didn't answer.

Yeneneshe guiltily looked away. "Our lives have always revolved around the will of the gods. The royal children of each clan are given to a specific destiny. They are named for it. My sister was to have been a great warrior priestess, and she was for many years."

"You mean Mogethis."

"Yes. They gave her a name that showed who she would become. So all the world would know her destiny had been set by the very gods themselves!" Yeneneshe drew herself up proudly, thinking with sadness of her siblings, her parents, and all that was lost.

"Except all the world doesn't speak our language," Ettoras pointed out. "Your name means She Who Bends and Takes." He laughed softly. "So many dogs would get such amusement from that."

Yeneneshe looked away irritably. "Dogs like you?"

"I'm . . . not a dog."

Yeneneshe laughed softly. "Don't deny it. Just because you lived so long among foxes doesn't make you any less of a drooling --" Her sentence was cut short when Ettoras kissed her. She trembled. And her first instinct was to escape like a startled bird. But his large paw cupped her face, and his gentle thumb stroked her cheek, and his tongue was so gentle and yet fervent, stroking as it coaxed her to surrender, gently tasting her. She moaned as the kiss deepened and frowned as their heads twisted. His strong arms suddenly closed around her slender body, drawing her near, until she found his great golden wings had enfolded them, and in the warmth of his embrace, she could feel her clit pumping, swelling, hungry for his touch. Her head fell back as he trailed hungry kisses down her neck. His lips were drawing near her breasts, but he didn't open her coat. Instead, he stopped to look at her. Her body was on fire. She wanted him to keep going . . . she wanted him to bend her and take her.

"E-Ettoras," Yeneneshe stammered. Her heart was beating so hard. She could still feel the heat of his kisses in her fur. She begged breathlessly for him to keep going, but he shook his head and just continue to look at her.

"P-Please . . ." Yeneneshe whispered and dropped her forehead against his. "I've waited for you so long . . . you inside me. . . . I want you inside me!" she cried breathlessly and kissed him with sudden passion on the mouth.

Ettoras surrendered to the kiss but only for a moment. "Y-Yen, no . . . listen to me."

Yeneneshe looked at him, waiting.

"Palesa told me how my parents fell in love. They were destined because Ti'uu planned it or something. My mother tried to resist and even ran away. But she met my father and fell for him anyway. It was her choice to stay with him, though. She didn't actively seek my father because Ti'uu told her it was her destiny."

Yeneneshe's ears slowly lowered. "You're saying you don't want this to be about destiny."

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying. To hell with what the gods want. This is about what we want! When we're together, I want it to be our choice. Not because you think some god ordained it."

Yeneneshe frowned, and she hated herself when her lip trembled, when tears started to her eyes. "But . . . what if it is destiny? What if you're the one our Seer saw in the vision? The one to first make l-love to me? What if Yfel meant . . ."

Ettoras closed his eyes. "Please, don't cry."

Yeneneshe pulled away, and his arms hovered as if she'd been snatched from him. "And yet, how easily_you made love to Kayya!" she cried, her voice thick with unshed tears. She folded her arms and continued bitterly, "Weren't you _ordered to love Kayya? And by your mother, a goddess!"

Ettoras looked at her miserably. "I've known Kayya all my life, Yen. While you were just . . ."

"A girl in a puddle?" Yeneneshe supplied, hating the sob in her voice. She hated that she was falling apart so easily in front of him. But she had spent her life believing he was meant for her, that one day she would meet him and they would fall helplessly in love. Instead, he was rejecting her and her gods. And even though she had rejected Yfel many years ago, some small part of her still sought to please the goddess. Perhaps it was a lingering effect of the many lessons of her sister. Mogethis had always sought to please the gods and had expected Yeneneshe to do no less. Perhaps the gods were the very reason Mogethis had neglected to find Yeneneshe.

Ettoras dropped his paws to his lap and looked at her helplessly. She could see he was trying so hard not to hurt her, but once again, he was failing miserably.

Yeneneshe lowered her eyes to the floor, and the sweep of her lashes nearly touched her cheeks as she raised her brows and said, "You don't trust me, do you? Did Kayya_fill your head with poison against me?" She laughed humorlessly, her dark eyes glistening with tears, her lips still trembling with emotion. "Asres and I _slaved to save her miserable life, but because our gods don't align with hers, we can not be trusted!" She swallowed hard and did not look at him. "Leave."

Ettoras looked as if he was going to protest, and if he so much as uttered some defensive crap about Kayya --! But a call from the hall made their ears prick forward, and then Ettoras was hurrying from the room. Yeneneshe watched his back bitterly before following.

Only Yeneneshe didn't want to follow. Back to the ones who believed her the enemy. Back to suspicion and glares and demands for answers she did not have. They didn't know it, of course, but after faking a dramatic exit and running down the hall, she had returned to eavesdrop. It was the oldest trick in the book, and in doing so, she managed to gather their honest opinions of her. Not that they'd held back before.

It was no secret that Kayya hated and suspected Yeneneshe. Half because she wanted to protect Ettoras and half because she wanted to protect Zeinara. But Yeneneshe was surprised when Zeinara actually defended her against Kayya's suspicion. She listened with raised eyebrows as Zeinara expressed real sympathy for her, and she had to admit that a part of her was . . . touched. No one had ever defended her like that before.

And that Palesa whore! Trying to convince the others that Yeneneshe could not be trusted! Motsumi, of course, had joined in. He suspected Yeneneshe because Palesa suspected Yeneneshe. And Palesa only suspected Yeneneshe because she hated Mogethis for reasons Yeneneshe couldn't even guess. It was hardly surprising, though. Mogethis had lived a long life and had many enemies long before Yeneneshe was even born.

Yeneneshe was born to her elderly parents in a last attempt to produce a child that could inherit leadership of the tribe. As a result, she was considered Kabira's "miracle cub," and though Mogethis had long before taken up her duties as a priestess, she insisted on helping her elderly parents to raise Yeneneshe, putting everything else aside, even the many battles she led against the dogs and the Guides alike.

The Guides had long been considered a nuisance to most tribes. They were preachy and dictating, always treating the other tribes as if they were beneath them or could not grasp the "complex" teachings of the goddess of love. They often attempted to stop foxes from fighting dogs and became physically involved in scuffles that usually centered on revenge. If a dog hunted and captured a fox belonging to Yfel's tribes, then the tribes of Yfel would seek out vengeance. But the Guides preached against vengeance and did not believe in taking life unless doing so meant preventing more death. They often had the gall to stop battles entirely, using magic to freeze the foxes so that the dogs could escape, or else commanding the trees to withhold both sides. In turn, the Children of Yfel hunted and killed those Guides who were foolish enough to stand in their way. Yeneneshe could only imagine that Mogethis and Palesa had "crossed paths" in such a scenario and had probably come to blows. But she could only guess. Whatever had happened between Mogethis and Palesa, Palesa seemed more than willing to dismiss the Guide teachings of "justice before vengeance" if she ever saw Mogethis again. And Yeneneshe was smart enough to know that someone who had "crossed paths" with Mogethis and survived was not someone to be trifled with. She would tread carefully around Palesa.

When Yeneneshe entered the front room, it was to discover everyone seated around the fire again. Motsumi had called everyone there, and Yeneneshe thought the elder fox looked worn and tired. Lines were under his eyes, and strings of mane hung in his face as if he'd been sweating. Beside him, Palesa cast him many worried glances, and Wilmer was brewing him herbal tea over the fire. Motsumi accepted a cup with a murmured thanks, but before he could take a sip, pain pulsed through his head, and he scowled as he touched his temple.

"What is it, elder one?" Kayya asked respectfully. "Did you receive a vision from Zuu'ma?"

Standing some feet behind Kayya, Yeneneshe rolled her eyes. As someone who had grown up in ignorance on S'pru, what did Kayya really know about the Guides and their supposed good deeds? There were some Guides who used their powers to steal from the tribes, bully them, and even destroy them - and all under the pretense that they were preventing more bloodshed according to Zuu'ma's code. What they really did just caused more chaos, made She of Madness cackle, and made the dissent between the tribes continue. But of course, someone from S'pru wouldn't know all of that.

"Yes, I d-did," Motsumi answered with difficulty. He drank from his cup with a shaking paw, and Palesa watched him with concern.

"Did you dream of . . . him?" Palesa asked Motsumi darkly. Yeneneshe thought she looked stiff and angry. Her paws were wrapped in fingerless gloves, and her long pink nails gleamed in the firelight as she turned a fork in her fingers. She flipped the fork a last time and slipped it neatly in her boot.

"Who's him?" Zeinara prompted at once.

Palesa glanced irritably at Zeinara, and it was clear she had spoken without thinking. Yeneneshe smirked: Palesa was so concerned for Motsumi, she had slipped up, revealing information she hadn't meant to.

Wilmer glanced at Palesa, and after hesitating, the Dalmatian explained to Zeinara with a lift of his paw, "Motsumi sometimes has dreams of Prince Florian."

"Whatever for!" Zeinara cried in amazement, and Yeneneshe could tell she was on the verge of laughing. The princess was sitting with her arms folded, her golden mane long and messy around her shoulders. Her rifle was near her boot, as if she had assumed Motsumi's call was a warning of danger.

Kayya frowned. "But who's Prince Florian?"

"The brat prince of Curith," Zeinara explained for her. "Be glad we never met him over at Canderly. Though I suppose it could have been worse. We could have met his _father._Wasn't too long ago that we were in Curith. And very near Norwich, I might add." When Kayya blinked in confusion, she added, "That's the capital, where WandourgCastle is."

"Oh . . ." Kayya dropped her eyes, and Yeneneshe knew she was realizing just how little she knew of Aonre.

Ettoras shook his head in confusion. "But what does all this mean? Why does it matter?"

M

otsumi stared grimly at the fire. "It means . . . we must return to Canderly."