Queen Luna Helti, first of her name, Bitch queen of Rusgard, slaughterer of the enemies of the faith, owner of an oppressive hangover, woke to feelings she hadn’t known in years. Chief of these was the body beside her, which prompted a growl. For a brief moment she forgot what had been done, till her head cleared and she saw which wolf it was. Hackles falling again, she took in the rest of the room, the covers, the clothes, and the mess she'd made of herself. There was blood on the bed and on her fur, the whole place reeked of it and sex, and there was still Linden sleeping there, slumped at her flank, white as snow and peaceful.

Memories emerged in her splitting skull, the violence, the passion, the rage and the crying. Was she certain that was what she’d wanted? What had she wanted, and why did she need it to be him of all wolves? Feeling doubt for the first time in many years, she did as she always did, attack the matter directly. Her paw gripped him firm about the shoulder, shaking him to startled wakefulness, which in turn led him to leap free from the bed and land with a yelp on his smarting buttocks.

"M-mothe… majesty” Mewling and whimpering, Linden, former prince, now slave, crawled away on all paws, looking at her with watery pain filled eyes, which did little to settle her opinion. “Please… I’ll go, I’ll leave, I’ll never disobey again, I swear!”

"Go? You’re not going anywhere, boy," she let out a pained growl at the pitch of his barks, feeling her skull creak. "You’re my bed-slave now, you belong to me, more than you did. You aren’t free to go and lurk about the place and letch anymore. You’ll do as you are told, if you know what's good for you."

Not comprehending, the former prince whined the harder, and begged more than ever, hoping firmly her disinterest would perhaps win him freedom. “Please, I’m sorry, your majesty, I swear I am. Just let me go, I’ll leave, I’ll stay in my room, you won’t see me again I swear!”

“Your room?” She wracked her mind, sifting sand to find she knew very little about how he lived. “Right, some little hole I’ve let you slink to at night, with that southern slut. You’ve had it too easy, boy. Eating at my table, sleeping in my halls. Time you earned it, like last night."
She felt more like her usual self now, finding the justification, the reason. "You satisfied me, enough to keep around from now on. So this is a fresh start. As far as the world is to know, you saved yourself for me, I will have been your first, and that bitch will hang to keep everyone’s mouths shut! Now you can keep a little-”

"You were my first!” He barked, a tiny yelp of a bark, but a sign of true lupine behaviour nonetheless. All about him his fur was raised, his face twisted into a snarl to go with the swept back ears and stiff tail. "Nurse Wella is kind, and gentle and she never did any of those things to me! I don't know why you are doing this, but you can't kill her! She didn't do anything wrong!"

A little impressed at his anger, Luna took seconds to realise what he had said, and what it meant. But even as the implications made her neck hairs rise, her teeth came out to crush his disobedience.

"She was consorting with someone above her station, sullied your honour, what little you had of it. If you’d saved yourself for a proper wolf then I wouldn’t have to. Now, don't make me repeat myself, boy!"

"You are the only one doing these things!" Linden howled at her, "I never did any of that! I didn’t… I didn’t even know what that was until you! Why are you doing this? Why did you hurt me? Why can’t I just leave?!"

The queen looked at him, confused, she could see the blood and mess between her thighs. She could see the state of his rump, the scabbing. She knew it was her own doing, but she had thought…

"What do you mean? I saw you slathering all over her cunt, don't deny it boy, don't tell me you didn't sleep with her you little whore, I caught you in her bed! Lie to me again and I’ll give you something to really howl about!”

The boy’s jaw opened and shut in fuming, frustrated anger, his breath was becoming hiccups as everything began to choke up within him. Self preservation dying beneath a need to defend the person he loved.

"I never did any of that with my privates before! I didn’t even know that was mating until you shouted it at me! I was happy staying away from you, not making any trouble for you, and then, and then, you hurt me! You burned me, beat me, starved me and shouted at me! I hate you! I hate you and I don't understand why you keep doing this! I want my Wella, she actually likes me!"

A knot formed in her stomach, a feeling something she couldn't place. She felt angry, she felt robbed, she felt wronged. Her chest began to tighten as she saw something in those eyes, and she snarled, not wanting to see that ever again.

"You... you dare speak to me like that, boy?!" She roared, the sound echoing in the room, her teeth bared as she ripped her way from the bed to tower over him, claws landing on the wooden floor, curling ready to spring upon him. Linden flinched, and stepped away from the expected blow, but his backside still hurt and his legs were slow. He fell as the queen grabbed hold of him, pulling him free of the floor to hang by her claw.

"If you don't stop," she hissed, grabbing him by the fur of his neck and holding him up to her eye, "I'll have you killed."

Sobbing, paws kicking at her grasp, body burning with pain and humiliation, he voiced what he'd been holding back for years, defeat. "Fine! Just do it! Kill me like you did father! I know you want to! You've always hated me so just kill me and let her go and stop it!"

The queen glared death at him, before throwing him back down on the bed, falling atop him, her teeth bared in an angry snarl, crushing a yelp from his body with her weight alone.

"Now you listen here you little whelp! Your father tried to murder me in this very bed! Don't you dare think that traitor didn't deserve to be split in two for what he did! And if I hated you I would have torn out your throat myself! So stop your fucking whining! If you want to see that bitch of yours then keep your muzzle shut and do what I fucking say!" She wanted to hit him, to knock some sense into him, but she had a better idea.
She let him up, turning her back to him to snatch her discarded cloak and britches from the floor. “You want to see that bitch so badly? Fine, see if she still wants to fuck you now you’re both nothing but filth! I'm done with you," she snapped, grabbing her crown from where it had been tossed across the vanity, "now get out of here, and don't come back till I call you!"

Linden bolted for the door, being chased down the halls by the laughter of the guards, who would spread the stories of the naked and bloody pup to haunt him from then on.

***

The boy couldn't find his beloved carer in the thrall’s quarters, nor the space that had been his room, which he found ransacked and defiled. Every she-wolf he passed seemed to leer at him, every male turned up their nose and let him walk on without a word. He had lost everything, his life as he knew it, his fragile place in the structure of Rusgard society, leaving him aimless, friendless. He needed someone to hold him, sooth him, anchor him again, he needed his Wella.

Her chamber was deserted. None would speak to him as he tried to ask for her, or a simple kindness, leaving him to wander just as naked and shamed through the cool morning halls, till his paws led him down to the gaol. There, chained to a wall and slumped to the floor, was a flash of russet, who he flung himself upon.

Briefly startled, the vixen pulled herself up enough to wrap an arm about the boy, muttering soothing phrases and not yet noticing how ragged they both had become.

"I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered once his sobs subsided, "she said… she was going to… have you hanged.” He pressed his face into her neck, feeling her soft fur against his cheek. She sighed, rubbing his back as she'd done countless times before to settle him.

"She'll change her mind," Wella replied, though she knew better than many the cruelty of wolves. "You're a prince, after all, I'm sure there's something you can do." She did not expect the wail of misery she received from her honest plea.

"But I'm not a prince anymore," Linden said, tears welling up again, "she had me branded, and hurt me, and did horrible, horrible things to me! I… She… she says, I’m her… her slave now. I don't know what to do, she… she ruined me."

"Oh," The vixen stiffened for a moment as she heard all her former charge said, took in his nakedness, the stains around his thighs, the heavy scent, then she let out a defeated sigh. "Well, that's it then. Shit!" Her curse silenced the boy, who looked at her with those wide, innocent eyes.
Feeling a grim resignation at the end, she pulled him into a tight embrace, the boy's tears dampening her fur. She was cold, starving, and her back was still aching from the beating she’d received, but she was going to die soon, so there was no reason to play games anymore. She let out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling, feeling the solidity of the stone against her shoulders, and the warmth of the boy in her arms.

"You were good fun, Linden, and a quick learner. It felt good teaching you how to please me, you made all this tolerable. It was an unlikely gamble, but I always hoped you'd swoop in and free me one day. Well, at least we had some fun before the end."

Linden pulled away from her, looking up at her with confusion in those sad, wet eyes. "What are you saying? What do you mean the end?"

"Look around you," she said, gesturing with her arm as much as the chain would allow. "I'm going to hang. You're a slave. There's nothing left to do but curse whatever god spat your people into the world. Well, whichever bitch takes you next, you let them know it was Wella Stonebrook that trained you how to please a lady. They'll be lucky to have you, you've got a really talented tongue in that dense head of yours."

She tried to take advantage of the moment, to sink her teeth in the last wolf she could, but the young pup looked at her with the same innocent confusion he always had whenever he met reality. It was such a disarming face, it sapped the venom she’d prepared to spend on him. Instead she held him tight, stroking his face, his soft cheeks, the sensitive ears that were pressed flat against his head. That was a cruelty she wasn’t quite able to administer, even at the end. Instead, she’d wake him from his little world, as a kindness, to prepare him. Or hurt his keeper. It didn’t matter which.

"Linden, would you listen to me? I'd like you to know my story, before it ends." Yes, she’d plant her poison, and let it fester in him. "I was a serf, born to parents of no great fame or fortune, but my life wasn't hard. I grew up on a farm in what you call the southern lands, a nation called Kaliasta. When I was your age, I dreamed of nothing more than handsome boys with flowers in their fur, coming to take me away from my mother's kitchen. I helped with the farm, and raising my brothers as my elder sister helped raise me. A humble, honest life. I even fell in love, with a watchman from the market town I'd go to sell eggs at. Dani, he was called, and I did everything to get him. He didn't have eyes for me, at first, but I didn't care. I worked on him, and I seduced him, till the day he proposed to me."
She chuckled as she remembered it.
"We got up to so much mischief, I've always been a wicked girl at heart. I showed him so many things, just like I did you, we were to have so many kits that we'd get old and fat surrounded by grandkits to take dote on us." She laughed again, rubbing the former prince a little firmer as she remembered those heady, summer years. Then she gave a sigh, releasing her old and tired despair, a weary note that had sat stale and unspoken for too long.
"But we didn't get married. We never had kits. Because you wolves killed him. You came and destroyed my village, slaughtered everyone I ever knew or loved. Dani, my brothers, my parents… everyone. You made a sport of it, killing them that who resisted, and anyone that didn't resist enough. Everyone, but, me.
"You see, the big bad wolves have an even more evil queen, a great big monster who loves to kill for fun. But she has this weak, little boy back home, that she had no time for because he's just so useless, and so small, that he's no good at being a wolf. I was just about to have my first litter when they came for me, so I was fat with milk and motherly. They made me watch as they ate my babies, fresh out of my body. They dragged me here in tears and chains, burned me with iron and broke me, all so they could give me to this weak and feeble prince, so he'd have a mama to cry on while the queen bitch was away killing.
"Yes Linden, you were that prince, that spoiled child that meant mine had to die and why I was spared. I don't know if your mother meant me to be a gift to you, or just to pawn you off on me, it doesn't matter. I wanted to take it out on her, I wanted to hurt her like she hurt me, and you're all I had to do that with. You were easy to train, so much fun, I had all the time in the world to make you mine, make you pay back what your people took. It was so exhilarating, thinking that the son of my enemy had become my pet who would soothe my body and make the pain go away. Who'd get down on his knees and lap at my cunny if I just asked. You were so sweet, and I hated you for that. I hated how soft you were, how pure, how loving, like I was your real mother. It made it hard at times, but you made it all worthwhile."

"And you can pay for it in full,” came the voice of the watcher in the dark.

Wella Stonebrook looked up from the boy in her arms, hearing the voice echoing through the stone walls, a low and menacing tone, but she was robed of even the capacity to fear it at that moment.

"Well, it's the queen bitch in person," she replied, looking up at the door with a sad little smirk. "I was expecting a lackey, not her majesty herself. What do you want? Come to see me off?"

The door opened, and in walked Queen Luna Helti herself, crown of iron upon her brow, cloak hanging from her shoulders. She looked down at the vixen, feeling a cold rage run up her spine as she swallowed the venom unwittingly. The vixen looked so small and dishevelled in her chains, with the boy in her arms. But the way she held him, naked as he still was, was undoubtedly intimate. The dead woman was staring her down, making it clear that yes, she was the one that debased Linden, and she did it to spite her.

"I've come to see justice done. I've come to watch you hang for your crimes against me."

"Don't kill her!" Linden yapped, looking between the two women, head full of all he’d heard. But no matter how terrible some of the things she said had sounded, it did not erase the years of love he held for his nurse, or the life of fear he had from his mother. "She's the only person here who's ever done anything kind to me. If you want to hate me then just hate me. Don't kill her."

"Linden, get out of the way, or I will have to hurt you. Get out of the way."

"No!" He hugged the vixen tight as he looked up at his mother. "I won't leave Wella! I won't leave my friend behind, she's all I have! I'd rather die, if she dies I may as well die! She's the only one who doesn't hurt me! I'd rather die!"

"Boy! I won't ask again. This bitch has been using you, making you weak, making you her little slut. I should never have trusted a southerner to raise you, but I can still gut her for what she's done. Just move, and let me do what is right!"

The boy held his nurse tighter, hackles up again in a pitiful display to defend his chosen den mate, the bravado of the desperate. And even that was denied him.

"Let me go!" Wella snapped, giving the boy a smack on his buttocks, making him yelp. "Get out of here, your majesty, unless you want to see what comes next. Maybe she'll at least have the decency to not make you watch."

"Don't you dare touch him!" The she-wolf howled, as if to defend the child she'd neglected for years, snatching him free in that moment despite his frantic kicks and scratches as he tried to claw his way back to the woman that had tainted him, whose fault she was sure all this was, who was the viper this whole time. She didn’t have words to calm him, to explain, but she didn’t need them when he was so weak.

Minutes later, the queen returned, no Linden in sight. It was just the pair of them in the cold cell. Wella took some satisfaction in seeing the scrapes and scratches on the she-wolf's face and arms.

"Is that better, you heartless bitch?" She said, looking at the wolf with all the contempt in the world. "Didn't have the stomach to make him watch? Or have you already found someone else to throw him to?"

Luna Helti snarled and glared, but she didn't speak. The two of them stayed there in silence for some time, knowing the queen had not come to say goodbye to her, nor to see justice done. She had come to play with them both, perhaps expecting to break the child more, perhaps just needing to see for herself. But in doing so, the white monster had shown more of herself than she’d intended.

Wella laughed, honestly and mockingly as that golden glare sought to sap her courage. She saw that look on her face, the fever with which she'd ripped the boy out of her arms, and she understood the crude wall of muscle that was the queen of wolves.

"You think he's ever going to love you? After everything you've done to him? You think he'll ever want you near him after you kill me? He's a child, and he's stupid, and innocent. With a big heart that just needed someone to love, and I gave that to him. I own him, your majesty, like you never will.”

She could see the wolf's hands shaking with anger, she could see the way her brow twitched and her jaw clenched. She could see doubt creeping in, regret for what she’d done, hopes for what could have been. If she were not who she was. Wella saw all this in her face, and knew that she had struck a better blow than she'd ever dreamed of.

"You think you're so smart, fox?" Luna hissed, "you think you know me so well? I was only angry at you because you took what's mine, what's rightfully mine! And now you think I'm so petty and weak that I can't bear to have him suffer a little for his own good?! I've given him everything! I've protected him from everything!"

"Oh yes, he's been so protected by you. A fine sight he is these days, naked and covered in his own blood. And don't think I didn't smell the stink of your sour cunt all over him. Was it fun? Raping your own son? Taking his virginity as he begged and bled? You may not want to believe it, but that's the truth of what happened, and what you did to him. I never did that to him, no mother would. I've been a better mother to him than you have, just like you wanted me to be. So what if I taught him a few things? He enjoyed it. At least, he enjoyed doing it for me. Can you say the same?"

"He's a child," the queen looked away, feeling her certainty weaken, and hating it., "he doesn't know what he wants."

Laughing wildly, Wella felt the mad giddiness and freedom of the condemned. "Was it worth it? Did you enjoy him as much as I have? Did he hold you tight and comfort you and tell you how special you make him feel? Or did he cry himself to sleep as you rutted him like an animal? He's spent his whole life living in fear of you, and you just proved him right!"

The queen glared, growling as she tried to think of something to say in her defence. But what could she say? The poisoned words sank deep into her and took root in her own doubts. She had enjoyed him, and she had never loved him. She had seen him as an inconvenience and a distraction. She had thought he was a pest and a slut who couldn't keep his legs shut, a spoiled brat who needed her protection, that ate of her riches and slept in her castle. She had thought of him as a convenient solution to her own problems.

"What have I done?" She whispered to herself, not knowing how keen her audience was.

The vixen only laughed louder. "I'll tell you what you've done! You've shown me a kindness you didn't intend. Now I'm going to hang happy, knowing I've hurt you! I hope you choke on that little boy of yours."

Scowling, her face wet with tears she hadn't noticed she'd been shedding, Luna Helti did something she’d never admit, she turned and fled. Leaving the vixen to laugh as the cold stone cell took away her last bit of warmth and light.

***

The wolf queen did not acknowledge her guards, her people, nor did she let them see her face. She was not ashamed, no, never her. But she had much she had to consider, to think on. She paused only to tell the executioner to stay his hand and save his rope, to have someone take the woman away and see she lived, for now.
Her heart felt heavy, and her body too, the confidence of strength having drained away with the vixen's condemnation. As she climbed back into the light and noise of her domain, she’d decided on three things. She needed a drink, and she needed to think, and eventually she knew she'd need to confront the boy. But for now, she could not face him.

***

Linden awoke naked on a pallet bed as bare as himself. The guard he had been thrown at had locked the him in a vacant chamber, leaving him alone.
Groaning and grunting as he felt the pain return with consciousness. His head to his legs and everything in between, hurt, he was sore in ways he had never known. The thought of trying to move made him whimper and whine, but he did it anyway, lurching upwards to truly see the state he was in. Now with the dust and dirt marring his fur, he looked nothing like a prince, and the only person he knew to ask to make it better was about to die just to spite him. He howled fresh sobs at that, that his nurse, his only friend, was going to die because of his mother’s hatred of him.

He howled his misery long and low until he heard the latch turn, and saw the figure that filled the door, when he shrank back against the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest to hide from the beast. But she didn't lunge, she simply walked over and sat down on the bed next to him, sinking to her haunches with a creak of leather and a small puff of wine.

"I'm sorry," she eventually said, not looking at him, "I was angry, and I was confused. I hurt you because I was too quick, and I thought you were... something else. I've been unfair to you, and I'm sorry." Her words came rote and practised, something she’d prepared before hand.
“I don't expect you to forgive me now. I don't expect you to come running into my arms, but I want you to know that I don't hate you, or blame you. You disappoint me, and I do not understand you. But you're my son, my blood, and that means something to me."

"But... you said…" His voice shook as bad as his body, unwilling to believe those words against his lifetime of evidence, no matter how much he wished it was true.

"I know what I said, but... but I was wrong. You are still my son, and being a thrall cannot change that. I have taken this far too quickly, and you deserve an explanation. But if you hear nothing else, hear that I do not want you dead, and I had good intentions. I may not love you like a mother, but I have cared for you in my way. I thought you were... less innocent, I should have taken the time to be sure, and done this properly."

The boy sniffed and cried, looking up as she spoke, even as she did not meet his eye again.

"You're really sorry? You did all this, but I'm meant to forgive you?” He chocked on the idea, “Wella... my nurse... you had her hanged! She was the only person who's been nice to me since you killed father! She never hurt me, she just wanted to look out for me! And you killed her."

"I spared her," the soft admission tasted sour, "she means a lot to you, and I can see that punishing her for what she did would not help my case. She will live, for now." She turned to look at him, seeing him as he was now, and hoping to her peace offering was enough to move on.
"I'll be gentle with you," she said, reaching out to lay her paw on him, "you will have my protection and our nights together will be pleasant for both of us."

He flinched away from her touch, which might as well have been fresh from the ice, "I don't want that! I just want things to be like they were. I don't understand why you've done all this, I just want Wella back and for things to be how they used to be!"

The she-wolf sighed, closing her eye and shaking her head. "I cannot undo the judgement of the priestess, not when all my earls have heard and seen it, but I can promise your life as a thrall will be comfortable. And it is with good reason that this had to happen. You are not fit to be a prince, Linden, you must see that. Making you my thrall, my bedmate, takes you out of the succession, and gives you something to do here in the castle."

"Is that why you had me burned?" The boy asked, looking up at her with his blue eyes, "Why you made me do those things for you? Are you going to hurt me more to protect me? Is that how it’s going to be?"

She wanted to say yes, to tell him it would be hard, and painful, to shut up and that it was for his own good. That it was the way of things, and by his age she had already gained a fair share of scars from duelling her sisters and raiding with her mother's armies. But looking down into his accusing eyes, she couldn't say the words. Alien thoughts, intrusive and crippling, undermined who she knew she was, what she'd made of herself. They were an invading poison, an enemy to her self, and with any enemy she could not simply best, she found she grew angry and frustrated with them.

"I... I will not be so quick or harsh with you, only when you disobey me. But I cannot undo what has been done, and some of it I wouldn’t if I could. You were a weak prince, Linden, and I need strong heirs. I expect you will be angry for some time, but better that than your sibling's teeth in your throat, or my suitors knife in your eye. Better miserable than dead."

"But I don't understand!" The boy cried, "I don't know what you want from me, but I don't want any of this, I want Wella back!"

Roaring in exasperation, Luna Helti stood back up and raised her paws to the heavens for a moment. The cub shrank back into the bare bed, pressing himself to the wall, expecting her retribution to be swift and painful. She rounded that golden eye on him and huffed steaming breath to calm herself before she spoke, muscles tense with the internal war that raged between her instincts and her conscience.

"Want, want, want! That's all you say Linden! Gods give me strength! Listen," she loomed over him as he quivered under that glare, "I will have you fed, I will have you washed, clothed and taken to my chambers. When I am done with all the things I must do as queen to get you your food, your clothes and the fucking thralls to make them, then we will talk and you will do as you're told. Do not push me further! I will not raise my paw to you now, but you try my patience!"
She turned to leave, but stopped and sighed before speaking again.
"You may have the nurse to help you dress, but no more. I will not have you coddled like a child anymore, you need to become a man for me. And Linden... I will make sure you enjoy tonight."
And she left him with that threat, in the cold and empty cell.

***

Wella Stonebrook, dressed in plain and ragged cast-offs, and full of plain pottage, followed behind a guard, satisfied that if this was the end, she would go smiling. The heat in her belly came not from clothes and stew, but the knowledge she’d wounded the bitch queen. They proceeded in silence as she was led along the stone hallways to the private room for valuable thralls, where she had been fortunate to stay until last night. The guard stopped outside a door, the key ready in her paws.

"She said to clean him up, and get him ready, but nothing else. I'll be listening."

Him, ah… With a nod and a smile, the vixen walked inside, it seemed she wouldn’t die yet. She noted the tattered and worn clothes, the basin and cloth for washing, then the figure sitting on the bed, curled up in a ball, staring at the wall. If he weren't a white wolf, he'd look just like any other fresh thrall of the wolves. He hadn't noticed when she entered, or perhaps her words before had finally sunken in and he had no wish to see her anymore. That was fair, she considered, she was the reason for his mother's jealous misunderstanding. But she knew the pup and his bleeding heart, and so was confident she'd have him eating out of her palm again before long.

"Linden?" She spoke softly, stepping around to take the wash cloth from the frigid water, "it's me, Linden, come and let nurse Wella clean you up, alright?"

Dumbly, those big, blue, puppy eyes blinked away old tears from their bloodshot whites, an expression of pain and surprise appearing as he noticed he was not alone.

"You're really here?" He asked, voice weak and sad, "I thought she'd... that you'd be…"

"Dead?" She smiled, a little bitterly. "Not yet, my little prince. It seems the big bad wolf still needs me to look after you. Now come on, I don't have all day."

He unfurled, reaching out for her to confirm with his paws what his eyes, ears and nose were telling him already. She felt real, as he latched on and sobbed a moment more, barely believing that his mother had kept her word. He emptied his misery into her breast, and in the end she had him lying down on his front, still, saving his shivers. She dabbed away the crusted blood, worked him through his yelps and squeaks, and listened as he relayed all the things that had happened since that time in her bed two nights ago, before finally he turned to the most delicate part of what had transpired.

"Wella," his voice trembled as he used it, eyes still glued to her paws and the now pink cloth, "did you really do all those things with me... because you hate me?"

The vixen smiled, and shook her head. "No, my prince, all wolves but you. I just needed something nice, and good, in my life again, that's all. And wasn't it nice having fun with me? You liked our little games together didn’t you?"

He looked up at her, feeling himself become lost in that smile again as his heart thudded and her gentle tones played to his needs like a skilled artist.

"Yes," he said, "I always feel good when I'm with you. You've been so nice to me."

"Good boy," the vixen smiled, moving on to clean the rest of him. "I’ll look out for you, as ever. And when her majesty’s made a mess of you, I'll clean you up again, and again, and again, until she's tired of both of us." When at last he was presentable, she ushered him to his feet so he could dress, and once that was done she bade him sit beside her once more.
"There, now you look ready for her. You're going to need to be strong and brave, or the evil she-wolf will gobble you up," she said, stroking his head. "She's going to expect certain things from you, and if you don't do them she'll hurt you. But don't worry, my little prince, I can teach you just what to do to make sure she's happy. Just remember what I told you about how to please me, and we'll get through this together. The two of us against the big bad wolves, forever."

The white wolf smiled and looked up at her.

"Thank you, Wella," he said, "you're always here for me. I'm really glad I have you with me."

"You're very welcome, my little prince."

***

Linden stood there nervously by the bed, tail flicking back and forth as he waited for the queen to return. He'd been given food, and watered down wine to numb his pain some, and then been abandoned in the large panelled chamber with its stolen trophies from far off lands. The bed still smelled of blood, his blood, but he dared not move from where he had been put for fear that his mother would spill more of it as punishment.

He did not know how long he waited before he heard the heavy tread and the creak of boards, the doors groaning as she came striding inside. She looked tired and frustrated, shedding her cloak and crown with no care where they fell, just tossing them aside until she reached the bed.

"Come here," she grunted rather than spoke, gesturing to the sheets, "we have much to do."

Linden whimpered, but obeyed, knowing full well she could make him suffer for his disobedience. But then she lay down on the mass of furs, patting it to indicate where he should sit.

"You uh, look good when you're cleaned up," she said, awkwardly, watching as he crawled across the bedding, but seeing how he kept his eyes away, and his body out of reach. She disliked the silence that came, as much as she had his crying.
"I guess we should get started," she shifted to see him more fully, "I'll make this very simple, Linden, I need heirs, and you are going to help me make them. That means fucking, and we're going to do it a lot. If you don't like it then you need to toughen up and do it anyway. But if you make this good for me, please me, then I swear I’ll look kindly on it. You understand me boy?”

"I think so, yes," he nodded, his voice still uncertain. "You want me to, um, well..."

"Fuck, Linden, we're going to fuck. Do you know what that is? What people do for love, or when they’re bored, or married? Surely one of the men explained this to you?”

"No," he replied, shaking his head while expecting some rebuke, "no, I never… not till yesterday…  I'm sorry, your majesty."

The queen looked down at him, before sighing with resigned disbelief. "Well, I guess I’ll have to do it. Come here."

The boy slid closer to her on the bed, shivering as he approached. It was like crawling up the slumbering body of a dragon, waiting for it to wake up with a snap and finish him off. But still he did as bid, tail firmly between his legs, and ears pressed low to his averted head. The submissive look doing the opposite of what he’d intended, inviting her to do as she wished, to take and have him. But for now, she had restraint.

"Take off my clothes, Linden," she said plain, as her lessons on how to treat a husband came back across the years. "It's been a long day, I want someone to make me forget it."

His paws went to her foot wraps, undoing the leather straps and tugging them free. The heavy bands of protective metal and leather unwinding into a mess on the bed, leaving her to sigh as her toe-pads could breathe freely again. She let him work on the second boot, removing it in much the same manner, before she removed the thick metal bracelets from her forearms herself, and the simple woollen shirt to speed matters along.
Linden gulped as she pushed her chest towards him. About her middle and winding its way to beneath her mane was a thick wrap of linen that strained to contain her. He reached out, feeling the surprising spring of flesh and not muscle beneath. Slowly he undid the knots and wraps, letting them fall away. He looked down at her chest as it was revealed unable not to stare, feeling himself tense in expectation of a blow, knowing she could see.

"You don't need to be nervous," she sighed, pulling the now slack length off her body, tossing it aside, having him undress her wasn’t as fun a game as she had hoped. "We've done this before remember? It wasn't that bad."

The look of disbelief she received had her pause and consider just had drunk she had gotten.

"Right, well maybe it was, but it won't be this time if you listen to me," she continued, touching his head, trying to convince his ears to rise, "just do as I say. You need to understand that this is all about making me feel good. You don't need to be perfect, you just need to do what I ask of you. We’ll start with what you do know. Get my britches off, and use that tongue to help me calm down."

He did, nervous eyes lowering, fumbling with her fastenings, trying to get the heavy belt around her hips to open the tight leather trousers. His efforts were met with an exasperated sigh and a look that he knew too well, and when the belt fell away, she grabbed the waist and tugged them down, kicking the heavy garments off as if they were snakes.

"I... I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I've never undressed someone before."

"Well, you'd better get used to it," she snapped, patience thinning, spreading her legs before him, naked from top to tail. "Now, lick, I know you can do that. Be a good boy and do as you're told."

He leaned closer, getting in between her legs, feeling the fur of her inner thighs, the musky scent of her womanhood. Unlike Wella, the musk that escaped had a sharp and potent smell, something that cut through his senses as his whiskers brushed her thighs, and his eyes slid level. He had to get this right, he'd been told, had to make her feel good or she'd hurt him again. So at that last moment, when he heard her intake of breath and saw the tensing in her legs, he broke off his approach to look up at her.

"Um, where does it itch most?" He asked with innocent well meaning, not realising the tease he’d just become, or why she hissed in frustration.

Taking a breath to steady herself as she realised he wasn't trying to piss her off, she did her best to be gentle as she pressed down on the bridge of his muzzle with a paw almost the size of his skull.

"Just start, I'll tell you as you go along.”

He nodded and lowered his head again, licking at the thick thatch that hid her plumped lips. His tongue dug in, dragging across her exposed skin, tasting her sweat and the musk that filled her fur, and with a few careful licks he lapped at her clit.

The wolf queen groaned, leaning back on her bed as the touch of his tongue sent a tingle up her spine. She felt his paws gently touch her inner thighs, and she saw him settle his breast to the bed, all the better to work her. She pet his head again, cooing softly in rare encouragement.

"Good boy, keep it up."

Linden looked up at her, before lowering his head again, licking and probing at her now moistened sex. He couldn't recall a single time she had praised him like that, but then she usually didn't say a word to him for months at a time.

"Farther down, Linden, a little deeper," she husked, closing her thighs and pulling him closer.

He licked a little deeper, following the instruction, the taste of her was stronger there. It wasn't as bad as he'd feared it would be, but the more he licked, the more he noticed how she smelled. At first sour, it became, pleasant, working into his sensitive nose, becoming warm to his tongue.

"Mmm, yes, there you go. Good boy, lick it like that."

She worked his head again, scratching at the back of his ears with sharp claws. He pressed himself against her, pushing his muzzle deeper till his nose dug into the top of her cleft, letting her musk and taste wash over him. She groaned, keeping him pressed into the gulf between her thighs. It felt better than she could have ever expected, the first time she'd been too drunk to notice, merely eager to have her fill, but sometimes gentle was better than hard. She could feel the warmth of his breath, his tongue was just the right size to tickle those small places she dared not risk scratching with a claw, and the roughness of his whiskers added a ticklish element that had her almost, almost, chuckle.

Linden looked up at her, seeing a smile on her muzzle, not a sneer or a grimace, and his heart felt a little lighter, but he was still wary of her intentions. And his reward for doing so was a more forceful hand behind his ears.

"Farther in, lick as deep as you can," she pushed herself against him, wanting to see just how deep she could get his snout. "Yes, deeper, there, that's it. Oh, fuck yes, scratch that 'itch'! Fuck, I love that tongue." She laughed and gasped in equal measure now, restraint forgotten, feeling a giddy release building in her. The exhilarating ride towards completion.
"Yes, oh good boy, there we go, that's it! Right there, do that some more!"

Linden snuffed as she pushed harder against his scalp, getting the whole end of his snout inside her with a little effort. He could only breathe through her now, his mouth too busy lapping, leading to deep pulls of her aroma through his lupine nostrils. Her clawed fingers curled, forcing him closer, her meaty legs wrapping around his neck, not the soft and fluffy thighs of his nurse, but the powerful and muscle corded thighs of a seasoned warrior.

"There, there, there," she cried, holding him in place, "oh yes! That's it, yes! Oh gods! Yes!"

The queen held him close for some time, trembling as her body calmed down, and the euphoria of her release subsided. She smiled as she looked down at him, letting him free to pant for air, face painted wet by her. She couldn't help but smile wider, seeing his eyes were glazed, his breathing ragged, but his tail wagging.

"Good, Linden," sighing in relief as the tension broke "that certainly scratched my itch, but that's not fucking. That's called eating a cunt, or licking a bitch. You do it to please a woman, nothing else. That fox of yours has been tricking you into tongueing her out all this time. But now I get to teach you what comes next. We're going to fuck, Linden, and I expect you to learn how. Come on, you need to strip, nothing but your fur."

The wolf pup looked at her, before he clambered off the bed and started to disrobe, undoing the cord that was all that was holding the uncomfortable clothes about his body. She watched him as he removed his trousers and shirt, putting them aside with a cautious and furtive air, revealing his lithe body and long white fur. Watching him turn and duck down to place the rags away, she received a full view of his naked body and the large, pink and puckered scarring on his rear. While perhaps she felt some small guilt over the pain it must be causing him, seeing her runes adorning his flesh, her mark of ownership contrasting against the snow-white pelt, brought a smile of delight to her features. She patted the mattress again, watching him hesitate for a moment, before getting back onto the bed. Her arm came around him, pulling him close, indulging a moment in the softness of his coat dragging along hers, till his face was resting on a breast, her muzzle in his ear.

"I'm going to teach you how to mate, boy, so pay attention. This…" Her free paw went down between his legs, between his thighs, easily pushing past his surprised resistance to circle his furry sheath with its small tip of red. "... is your cock. You are going to put it inside me, like last night, and then move it back and forth till I’m done. Do you understand?"

She felt him nod, a plaintive sound escaping him.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yes, your majesty," he whispered, the words almost stuck in his throat, "I understand."

"Good boy," satisfied, she released him, "lie on your back."

The pup obeyed, settling down on the covers, chest rising and falling rapidly as his pulse quickened. She placed a paw in his barely present mane, pushing him down, feeling his quickening heartbeat beneath her pads while she rolled a thigh over him, leaning down to lick his muzzle, before planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Relax, I promise I'm not going to hurt you," her rough voice was as soft as she could make it, claws reaching down between her thighs to find and rub his sheath. "Just put that cock inside me, and fuck me like you enjoy it. This is supposed to feel good, for you and me. And if you find yourself wanting to give me a lick, or put those paws on my tits, then do it."

She saw him wince, uncertainty as plain as day, and her attempts to firm him up seeming to do little. But by degrees, she had the tip, and when it brushed her delta it didn’t shrink away. Once it was in the entrance, dragging several times up and down her furrow, slippery as soap, she knew that he was ready. Or at least, his shaft was.

"Look at it Linden, it's not that hard, just push it in, it’s bigger than it looks."

His eyes were locked on the union between their bodies as his cock entered her, feeling her flesh part for his, stretching out to embrace him, warm and moist as it almost pulled him to his full length. Hot, red canine meat seated itself naturally inside her valley, more eager than him, and causing a gasp, and a sigh, as it found its place.

"Mm, yes, that’s the idea," she rumbled, stroking his chest and shoulders, "how does that feel?"

Linden looked up at her, unsure of how to reply. Without the threat of death he'd been under before, or the constant fresh pain, he was able to appreciate the sensation of silk wrapping about him, rough in some places, smooth in others. But it was the movements it underwent as she lifted and fell again, that had him most uncertain.

"I asked, how it feels, boy. Don't just lay there like a gutted pig. Move with me."

The young wolf tried, but his first experience hadn't filled him with confidence, and his intrepid thrusts took more courage than they should. He moved his hips up against her, trying to meet her movement, but she leaned down to press her muzzle against his throat, pinning him to the bed.

"You're too stiff, boy, relax. There's nothing to worry about. The only way you can get this wrong is to do nothing. Up and down, that’s all there is to it, up, down."

Once her muzzle was no longer at his throat, he tried to do just that, to not think, just, move. His reward was more of that puzzling feeling, and it seemed to grow the more he repeated it. He didn’t find a rhythm, but he did find himself breathing deeper, needing the air as his head began to lose focus, and those deep inhalations filled his nose with more of her.

Luna saw this, and felt it too. Now not drunk on wine, she kept a measure of control. And once she saw his lips part to let his breath pant out, she leaned down, and kissed him, tilting her muzzle about his, feeling him start, sure his eyes were wide, but he did not retreat or fight. He was timid, but not nearly as much as he had been before, like prey caught below her, frozen in place. She tasted him, and found it good, her body confirming with one more sense that this was what she wanted. Her cunny quivered a little at that thought, the acceptance that this was going to continue, this was going to be his place, that she’d have a mate again, of a sort. Her sex dripped and spread her scent all over his balls on the descent, and it clutched and worked on the rise. Unlikely to finish with such a slow pace, she contented herself with the victory, more than anything.

The young white male felt something build inside him as she moved, a growing pressure, faintly recalled, but detached from yesterdays pains. It had him seeking more, to keep the momentum up, an urge in him that dwarfed all thought, even fear, so that his paws moved on their own volition to hold her thighs, to bury his fingers in thick rough hair, and feel hard muscle shift with every bounce. He whimpered, gasped, and finally yipped, as that pressure broke, a dam bursting in his mind and his cock, to loose a torrent of eager white. Hips jerking, mouth clenched, and eyes screwed shut, he rose and clung to her chest in likely their first ever mutual embrace.

"Good boy," she said, smiling at him, her own arms coming around his back, keeping him there, in her fur, until she no longer felt the pulsing wet of his seed entering her. Second climax denied, for now, she was at least satisfied that it had gone much better than it could have.

Once he could see again, he was greeted by her golden eye, twinkling in something like joy. Her arms did not release him, and his didn’t dare move, not while the spell lasted between mother and son. Only when she lowered him back to the pillows did he find his voice, breathy and shaken, quiet so with even the keen hearing of wolves, she’d be the only one to hear.

"What now?"

She leaned down and kissed him, pushing him deeper into the mattress. Her tongue beyond his teeth, tangling with his, tasting his muzzle and making him taste her too, taking more of his submission, his energy, till he was still and accepting. When she pulled away, he was panting, breathless, but his snout had fallen into a smile, dazed, but content.

"Now we sleep," she said, "and tomorrow we do this all over again."

He looked up at her, nodding slowly as he tried to take in everything that had happened. After years of learning the opposite, he felt strangely comforted by her closeness. It was something he could not put a name to, and perhaps it would have been wiser not to ask, but still he did.

"Why... why me?" He whispered into her neck, her heavy body folding him into her fur in the same way a child does a stuffed animal, "I'm weak, and I annoy you, and you hated my father before you... Why me?"

"Because you're mine," she growled, wrapping herself around him, "that's why."

He sighed, leaning into her embrace.

"Yes, your majesty."

***