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Well, here we go again. It truly is amazing how badly my creative energies were impacted by the stress I was suffering. I have been working on this chapter for almost six months, and I scrapped it and started over four times in that span of time. Anyway, I am finally satisfied with the way this one reads, so I hope you enjoy it. Can you believe I'm up to chapter 30? I can't.

If you like my writings, let me know with Faves, votes and comments, so I can keep providing the things you enjoy. If you see where I can improve, please point it out, so the next one will be even better. And now, I welcome you back to world of werewolves and demons.

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The high, vast roof of the hall above seemed barely adequate to contain the joy and the revelry that filled the space beneath it. The stone walls echoed with the laughter and song of hundreds of people, and, though it might have simply been the overwhelming golden joy that filled her heart, Julianna felt that even the Harvest Feast of Gulnia, the highest holiday in her homeland, did not compare to this. Beside her at the high table, her husband laughed at a climax of a story Torian was telling him, about one of his seemingly endless misadventures, but Galen's right hand still clasped her left, as unwilling to let her go as she was to release him, the cloths still tied about their wrists not making the slightest difference in their grip. The whole Galnikin family was arrayed to her right for the wedding feast, the priests and priestesses she had come to know in her time at the Slayerhold arrayed to her left, in lieu of her own bloodline. The rest of the large hall was filled to bursting with the people of the Hold. Slayers in white and silver ate and drank the wedding feast, interspersed with members of every other group that remained in the Hold, the hall a riot of colors. But unlike the feast that her father had treated them to on her return to Gulnia, there were no high nobles carrying themselves as above everyone else, nor arguing over precedence to see who would sit where. Here, the lowliest Slayers, those only recently released from training, drank with High Priests, ranking officers with the newest novices of the faiths.

This, Julianna decided, truly was a better way to celebrate. The food was not the overly rich dishes of the royal table; rather, it was the same hardy, wholesome fare favored by the demon hunters, but plentiful and somehow more...suitable, than that which the royal court always seemed to desire. She and Galen had both eaten two platefuls of the dishes placed in front of them, but, though growing another life within her had increased her appetite to a degree that she had never imagined, in truth, she didn't want more food right now. Glancing over at Galen, she saw that though he was eating a piece of dark bread with apparent enjoyment, he wasn't doing much more than picking at the food on his plate. Seeing her look, the large grey werewolf gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and leaned over, their muzzles meeting in a soft kiss. Though the kiss only lasted a few moments, it was a gentle touch imbued with the same meaning as if they had clung to one another for hours. When they reluctantly parted, Julianna leaned towards her mate and laid her head on his shoulder, smiling when she felt his head rest against hers as well.

A moment later, she perked up out of her comfortable musings at the sight of the trio of Myro who had led their group rise as one from the benches where they had been entertaining the people around them with stories and songs. The trio walked with easy strides towards the high table, and the whole room seemed to go quiet as they approached, their wondrous instruments coming into their hands as if summoned there by magic. When they stood before the two werewolves, the harper spoke, his rich, sonorous voice echoing through the hall without him seeming to raise it above a normal speaking tone.

“Julianna, Galen," He began, giving a slight bow to both of them in turn, “It is the custom in our order to give a gift of music to the happy couple on the day of their union. Please, allow my brothers and I to bestow our blessing upon you." Julianna nodded, her mate doing the same beside her. For a moment, complete silence followed the words, even the crackling torches in the sconces on the walls seeming to fall silent in anticipation. Then, the lute player stroked the pearlescent strings of his instrument, a single chord echoing through the room at the touch of his fingers. The mingling sounds of the note were far richer than anything she had ever heard, a dozen subtle tones echoing within it. But, even as the echoes faded, the minstrel's fingers began to pick a melody that would have been simple on another instrument, but in his hands seemed to enchant the very air around him.

After a few measures, the harper strummed the silver strings of his golden harp and the room seemed to shimmer with the sound, adding his own part to the melody of the lute, the tone of the two instruments as rich and joyful as the first days of spring, glorious and warm as the height of summer. But still, though the interplay of the melodies was like a painting of sound, still it lacked something, neither player taking the center of the song. Finally, the flutist raised his shining crystal instrument to his lips, the dancing light of the torches making the clear material appear to be made of fire. And now, as this last priest winded his instrument, Julianna understood why these three led the procession of minstrel-priests. The sound that came from the crystalline instrument was pure, resonant and beautiful, reaching deep down inside the listener to stir the heart and soul, sending shivers down the spine. Alone, it would have been merely ethereal, otherworldly, an unattainable beauty not of this world. But blended with the lute and the golden harp, the song it gave voice to was so rich, that nothing she had ever heard compared to it. It seemed to make the walls ring, the hall suddenly growing dim, leaving only the music behind. Within moments, it seemed as though not three, but dozens of minstrels were playing, and the werewolf woman felt her fur stand on end, the faint touch of magic dancing through her pelt.

Then, as the trio of melodies seamlessly blended into a single song, the entire hall let out a collective gasp, because suddenly, the hall was no longer there. Julianna felt her mate's hand twitch in her grasp as a glorious image appeared before their eyes. Wordless, the song spoke, showing the two of them fond sights of the life they had lived. Before her eyes, Julianna saw the pair of them walking in the wild places side by side, far from the cities and towns where others felt it was safe to dwell. Vividly, she saw the grove of sacred golden trees where she had first found out Galen's secret, and the endless green expanse of the Aspenhald. She saw the wild hill top where they had made love for the first time, the first morning when they had awoken in each other's arms. And even more strangely, she saw the moment again when her lover's fangs had pierced her flesh, giving her the gift they now shared.

Then, she was the one who let out a gasp, for she saw again the happy dream she had nearly forgotten. But this time the images were crystal clear, coherent and powerful, rather than the vague snatches of memory where it had flown after the night she had seen it. The crystal clear lake lapped at the shore with the wind, the grasses and wildflowers dancing in the pure mountain breeze. And she could scent the forever sweet aroma of dew laden wild grass, twined with the fragrance of the wildflowers. She could even feel the breeze as it danced through her fur. Once more, Galen sat beside her with an arm around her waist, but now she knew that Galen saw the images too, and she felt his breathing catch when the shadow of their child fell across the grass beside them.

As quickly as it had come, the lake with its phantom child was gone, and in its place was another image of a wood of evergreens under the pale moonlight, her and Galen running among them with the wild joy of their wolf spirits filling them. Another image came just as quickly, and another even faster. She saw mountains, forests, deserts and even the broad expanse of the sea before her, hundreds, thousands of places, most she had never seen, and always, there was Galen by her side. Somehow, she knew that time lay between each image, years, even decades passing before her eyes, and always they were together. As the parade of images ran on and on, she heard another sound, the deep, resonant howl of wolf song, the sound she had heard so often from the throat of her mate, but it wasn't one voice she heard. She heard her own song, higher, sweeter in tone than that of her mate, and then others raised along with their own, some deeper, some higher, until the howling voices nearly eclipsed everything else. Then, finally, she saw one last image, a valley in the mountains, lush and beautiful, surrounded by high purple ridges, leading up to snowcapped peaks. The sun was setting behind the distant ridge, and she looked beside her to find the Galen of the image changed as she had never imagined to see him.

Though his body was still as strong as ever, he looked weathered, like old stone. His eyes held the wisdom of untold years within them, and yet still, in his gaze, there was naught but love for her as he looked at her. She felt the weight of life in her own form, time laying its burden upon even the long-lived werewolves, but still, weathered and old, Galen was as handsome and wonderful to her as he always had been. She smiled, feeling the years in her own form melt away in the light of his gaze, until at last, though old and worn, she was as young and hale as the woman she had been, so long ago, when they had first beheld each other...

In the blink of an eye, the images were gone, the high hall returning with the last notes of the song the Myro played. Shaking her head in confusion, Julianna looked around in surprise, finding everyone wearing the same slack expression as those held spellbound often did. She couldn't imagine what they saw in the song, but a single glance in Galen's direction told her that they at least, had shared the same visions. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she smiled at her husband, perceiving at once the gift that the Myro had given them. It had been a glimpse of a love that had withstood all that had been thrown at them, endless years and countless challenges, and still their love endured. Galen smiled at her, giving her hand another gentle squeeze, and then looked at the harper who was almost smirking with the effect of his magic.

Giving a seated bow of appreciation and honor, the newlywed werewolves offered wordless thanks to the minstrels, who returned the bow with relish. With the spell broken, and the musicians returned to their seats, the assembled crowd cheered and applauded, drawing a bow from the masters. The rest of the hall was returning to the hubbub of the feast, but Julianna felt...different, was the only way to describe it. The food spread on the tables no longer held attraction for her. The high hall's confines, previously so wide and open, felt stifling, and she longed for the outdoors, longed for the wild places once more. Turning her head, she found her eyes meeting those of her husband, and she saw a knowing look within them. A moment later, Galen leaned over in the other direction, towards Torian, whispering to his brother words that even she could not hear over the merry hubbub of the feast. After a moment, she saw the other man nod and then rise to his feet with an unsteady motion that she guessed was only half from the wine in his goblet.

With an almost graceful motion, Torian vaulted the table, landing in the space before it with a great shout that drew the attention of many of the revelers. Standing straight, one hand raised before him like he was reaching out to take something from the air in front of him, the Master Hunter began to sing. His voice was not nearly so pleasant as the song of the Myro, but it was strong, hearty and at least on key. The song he sung was a popular tavern song, not bawdy, but certainly not one you would hear at a high court. After a few verses, Torian swayed into a dance to the delight of the crowd, and many voices raised to join him in the chorus. By the second chorus, several others were on their feet, joining in with the dance, much to the mirth of the hall. Everyone was singing now, and laughter echoed in the hall once again.

For a moment, Julianna was confused by the display, until, as the dance grew in vigor, Torian spun drunkenly outward from the growing circle of dancers, catching himself against the high table. As he staggered, she caught the wink he flashed to them, the jerk of his head towards the door behind them, the motion hidden within the exaggerated drunken sway he affected and at last she understood. As Galen's brother spun back into the dance, she felt a sudden affection for the family she had joined, feeling now, as she never had before, the deep bond that they shared. With a lithe motion belied by his bulk, Galen slipped easily out of his chair, Julianna following suit, the pair slipping out of the hall, completely unnoticed by the gathered crowd, whose attention was on the antics of the Master Hunter and the other dancers.

Outside the feasting hall, the sun was sinking towards the evening, the rim of the sky only beginning to yellow. The sounds of the Slayerhold were quieting as most of the residents and visitors were going to their evening meal, or else entering the taverns and inns, and she knew that few were out on the street to witness their going. That was as it should be tonight. Quiet as the night breeze, the lycans slipped down the side streets, unmarked and almost unobserved as the day sank into twilight. Only when they approached the great gates did they step into the open, but, though a couple of wagons had just passed through, and were on their way up to the keep, the drivers never looked in their direction, and there was no other traffic. The Slayers on guard barely seemed to notice as they passed out from the wall and into the open plain outside, giving the impression that the two wolves were merely ghosts, spirits that didn't touch the mortal plane.

The grass still bore the signs of the Nightlancers who had stood guard outside the walls during the council, trampled down where they had patrolled, but already it was beginning to sway back into its unending waves once more, the foreign warriors gone. The air smelled sweet, heavy with the green scent of wild grass and the clumps of wildflowers that dotted the plain, just like in the vision of the song, the stirring breeze sweeping the air towards the walls. Smiling broadly at the aroma, Julianna turned towards Galen and found him returning the grin in the same way. Turning as one towards the woods they had walked through on their way to the Hold, weeks ago now, the two wolves set off towards the trees at a pace that humans could never match.

Altering course only to avoid the few Chosen who were in sight, still patrolling the trees where they had made their camp, the werewolves darted beneath the branches of the nearest pines, passing with the same grace as the wind itself. When they were at last beneath the trees once more, they paused a moment to breathe, listening to the world around them. Hearing nothing but the distant sounds to the Hold, and the beckoning call of the woodlands so near, they turned to the deeper woods. As the last rays of the golden sun shone down upon the world, they ran once more in unison, the tree branches whipping by as they hurried to no destination, miles from the homes of man. Finally, as the distant horizon purpled with the coming night, the pair paused on the edge of a small hillock, crowned with grass rather than trees, deep into the forest, well out of sight of the hold and all who dwelled there.

The run had been exhilarating, more pleasing than the City of the Slayers could ever be. Looking up at the sky, Julianna was surprised to feel the familiar tingling surge in her soul that came only at the full moon. They had both lost count of the days within the walls of the Hold, but it seemed fitting, somehow, that it would be tonight that the moon shone forth at its height. With a wide grin upon her white muzzle, she looked over at the handsome wolf whose hand was in hers. Galen returned the grin and without another moment of hesitation, they slipped the tied bond from around their wrists, laying it upon an exposed stone like an offering to the open night sky. It was followed a moment later by their cloaks, jade green and twilight grey and lastly, white rune cloth and robes of jade and gold. Even as they shed the last vestiges of humanity and civilization, reveling in the freedom, the full moon rose into the sky, its pure, ethereal light filling the darkness. As the light fell upon them, and the tingling surge of strength and power rose within her, Julianna felt the human half of her soul step back, willingly allowing the wolf to come forth instead.

Gone were the concerns of the coming journey, gone were the priests and hunters of the Hold. Now, this night, there was only the woods, the wild home where they dwelled. Closing her eyes, Julianna raised her muzzle to the sky, drawing deep upon the fragrant air of the forest. Out here, this was where they belonged, and she knew it. She may have been born to a palace, and trained to the temples of the priesthood, but this was always home. The day may belong to the humans, and the Slayers and Priests might venture into the darkness, but the night, beneath the pale moonlight, that belonged to the wolves. Letting out the breath slowly, she opened her eyes to find her mate standing before her in all his naked glory, grey fur shining silver in the moonlight. There was no other word for it; he was the most beautiful thing in the world. Moving to him, she slid her arms around him, fur against fur, and held tight as the full moon's light alighted upon the hillock. Even as they stood, holding one another close, she felt the form of her beloved swell, growing even stronger, broader with the gift of the full moon. Her own form was growing as well, but not to the extent of her lover, physical strength was not her gift. Rather, she felt her frame becoming more nimble, flexible and lithe.

Their tender embrace lasted for a another few moments, enjoying the simple pleasure of being clad in nothing but moon lit fur, and surrounded by the wild. Finally, stepping back slightly, she looked at Galen's transformed physique, marveling at how different it looked. The first time she had seen him transformed on a full moon, his form had been powerful, dangerous and feral. Indeed, he should have looked monstrous, but even then, to her eyes, there had been something alluring about it too. Now, if anything, he was even more powerful, still feral and wild, but there was no denying that he was handsome. Then, as she examined him, she remembered what else had been special about that first full moon, and she felt the familiar heat rise within her, her heart starting to pound. It was fitting that tonight, their wedding night, would be a full moon, because that night, the night that seemed a life time ago, had been the real beginning of their life together. Then, a new scent reached her nose, a hot, spicy note that stoked the fires within her yet higher. Glancing down, she saw the tip of her mate's wolfhood peaking out from its sheath and she felt a mischievous grin crease her lupine features.

Reaching out with both hands, the werewolf woman caressed her husband's chest, tracing her claws through his pelt, making him shiver with delight. Looking up, she kissed him, tongue slipping out to meet his own, her hands roaming down his abs, his own caressing her back. The feeling of claws tracing her spine was a sensual delight all its own, and she arched into his touch, wanting this. But the wolf was tired of being cooped up in the Hold. It wanted to run, to be truly free, just as much as it wanted Galen. The grin broadening on her muzzle, Julianna stepped away from her love, then, with one last teasing look over her shoulder, she bolted off across the top of the hillock, her stride lengthening into the loping run of their people. She could hear the footfalls of her mate behind her as he tore off in pursuit and her grin went even wider as she reached the tree line, only a stride or two in the lead.

Laughing, she dug in with her right foot, pushing herself to the side as she felt him come close. Darting around the bole of a towering pine, she switched directions, pelting off in another direction, her lover close behind. A minute later, she sensed Galen's hands coming within grabbing range of her tail and she dodged again, her lover laughing behind her as she headed for an exposed knuckle of rock downslope from them, piled boulders like old bones, his own pace picking up in the relatively clear space, closing on her as they ran. But she had no intention of being caught yet.

When she reached the boulders, she pushed off, leaping to clear the first rock, barely touching the top of the second before changing direction a third time, suddenly charging off up the next hill. Her ears told her that her mate was falling back a few strides, but then, she heard his stride pause and instinct made her reach out, catching a thick tree with one arm and spinning around it to change her course once more, a grey blur marking her mate as he landed against the tree beside her, his leap leaving him almost parallel to the ground, practically defying the earth's desire to pull him down against it. Still sprinting, she ran off past him, narrowly ducking his hands as she went, his own grin displaying his fangs in feral joy. Like a ghost, Julianna flitted through the thickening trees up the slope in that direction, gleefully leading her mate on a wild chase deeper into the forest.

Julianna was more agile than her mate, playfully dodging around trees and rocks with an ease that surprised even her, but Galen was not exactly slow, maintaining the chase so close he was often only inches from catching her. Finally, the white werewolf reached the edge of a space within the trees, a flat meadow of grass bathed in moonlight and suddenly, she heard the stride of her mate pause once more, but this time, she didn't try and avoid him. The larger grey werewolf's pounce caught her two strides into the clearing and they tumbled, rolling on the grass to finally come to rest with Galen on top, pinning her to the ground. Both of them panted, the long run having tired even them, but both grinned broadly.

“Caught you." Galen whispered, leaning in and kissing her deeply, their fingers intertwining above her head.

“And what are you going to do with me, love?" She questioned when they broke their kiss. Galen's answer was to lower his head, nuzzling his head under chin, giving her neck a gentle lick. Sucking in a pleased breath, the white werewolf clutched Galen close, her arms enfolding his broad torso, pulling him down against her. A moment later, she felt the tip of his member against her slit, but, as he continued to gently tease her neck, he ground himself against her, a gentle press that sent rivers of lightning through her. Shuddering, Julianna gasped, eagerly grinding upward against him. A moment later, Galen raised his head, pausing for a moment, his eyes staring deep into her own, like deep dark pools. While he was staring into her, she felt his tip slide down the length of her sex to rest against her entrance. Raising her shoulders off the ground, Julianna kissed her husband once more, pressing her hips towards him.

Galen slipped into her slowly, steadily, not a hard thrust like the last time they had mated, letting her adjust and she gasped into his muzzle, her eyes wide. The exhilarating chase through the forest had left her excited, and his gentle, loving treatment had left her surprisingly sensitive. Moaning softly, Julianna lowered herself back to the soft grass, pulling Galen down with her as he gave a gentle press of his hips, sliding deeper until she felt the slight increase in girth that marked his knot against her. He didn't push it into her yet, the bulge of flesh pressing against her clit from below and she shuddered in pleasure. Despite the fire in her heart, she held her lover close, wrapping her legs around his hips, keeping him in that position, and Galen obliged, breaking off the kiss to nuzzle against her once more. For a few moments, Julianna luxuriated in the moment, joined with her mate beneath the wild moonlight. In that moment, she could have stayed like that forever, and not wanted for anything.

Then, with another lingering kiss, Galen withdrew, slowly pulling out of her until only his tip remained within her sensitive passage. He paused for a moment, just long enough to let her feel the anticipation of the thrust, then he pressed into her again, her toes curling at the long, slow thrust. His length seemed to hit all of the sensitive spots within her in turn, with just enough time between them so each touch was like a miniature peak and she shuddered in utter delight. Another thrust, a little faster this time and she moaned, her hips thrusting up in time with his motions, and this time Galen let out a low breath, closing his eyes with a pleased grin on his muzzle. As he treated her to another thrust, a little faster still, his eyes opened again, but the look in them had changed. Now, there was something teasing, almost playful in them; and there, beneath that, there was also a hunger, a familiar gleam that her already pounding heart racing in anticipation. Each thrust was a little faster, a little harder, but not hard enough to build into a climax, not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of gentle loving, Galen paused, holding himself barely within her once more, but Julianna didn't want to be teased any more. Seizing the initiative, Julianna thrust herself upward, hard, letting out a gasping moan and Galen was hilted within her, growing knot and all. Now Galen relented, pulling back and thrusting into her hard, eliciting a soft cry from her. Galen's hands landed on either side of her head a moment later and the rhythm picked up again, the slight change in angle hitting one last spot and Julianna felt her eyes go wide, her peak suddenly on her. Sucking a deep lungful of air into her lungs, she howled the ecstasy of the moment into the sky, her passage spasming around her lover as she climaxed, clenching down upon his full length. She knew Galen was close as well, could feel his knot swelling, the familiar tightness of the tie coming. Then, with one final short thrust that drove him that little bit deeper, the opening of his sheath against her lips, Galen's voice joined hers, a deeper howl that made the woods echo with the sound of their love.

Panting as her howl ended, Julianna let her body relax, slumping back into the grass, eyes closing as she felt the familiar warm afterglow settle into her once more, Galen's breath evening out swiftly as he too came down from the heights of their pleasure. Then, when he lowered his muzzle and kissed her gently once more, she reached out without looking, both arms encircling his broad chest and pulling him down to her, holding him closely. Utter and complete contentment seemed to radiate out from her mate as he settled into position, not quite resting the weight of his body upon her, but rather adjusting so just enough pressed into her. Allowing her eyes to open slowly, the werewolf woman looked up, past the silvery head that lay against hers, and regarded the moon with a strangely fond gaze. All her life, the moonlight had seemed cold and remote compared to the warmth of the sun. But now, this night, it seemed more wholesome to her than many sunlit days had before.

It was a few silent minutes more before Galen began to shift, adjusting as his knot began to shrink within her, putting more of his weight on his hands and knees, gently tugging with his hips. It was just enough pressure to make her shiver, her nerves still sensitive, but not anywhere near discomfort. He pulled so gradually that by the time her folds released him, the bulge was almost back to its original size and he tipped to the side, landing beside her, looking up as well. After a few moments of breathing the scent of mingled forest night and their love, Julianna spoke softly, unwilling to disturb the tranquility of that moment beneath the full moon.

“Do you ever wonder," She whispered, her hand seeking out that of her new husband. “What power the moon really holds?"

“Sometimes." Galen replied, looking over at her. “I used to think that it really was a tool of the demons, created by their power as some kind of mockery of Auré's light. But, I haven't thought that in a while. Not since that night."

“Me neither." Julianna replied, squeezing his hand, knowing precisely the night he meant. Then, as the tantalizing images of that first, awkward, hesitant, wonderful night danced across her memory, the white werewolf smiled to herself, her heart picking up its pace as she looked over at him, lying there in the fragrant grass, almost as he had back then. It was too perfect to pass up, too perfect to let the moment go unused.

Rolling over towards Galen, she rose back up so she straddled his waist, looking down at the expanse of muscle covered in twilight grey fur and smiled. He smiled up at her in return, his hands landing on her thighs, gently stroking through the fur that covered them, but she had no intention of staying still, just sitting there. She could feel him stiffening beneath her once more, and she ground her hips against his, his ears perking up straight as he felt the slick warmth of her labia upon his shaft, suddenly understanding exactly what she intended. As she had done the first night, she rose, reaching down with one hand to guide him upright, nestling the tip of his member against her, sinking down upon it slowly. Julianna let out a soft sigh of pleasure as he filled her passage once more, but this time, she didn't begin riding him as she had on that night. Rather, she stayed there, poised on top of him, joined at the hips for a few moments, taking his hands in hers and linking her fingers through his so they were palm to palm. Then she leaned forward languidly, touching their noses together like the wolves they were, before sliding into a kiss.

Even as their muzzles met once more, Julianna pushed herself upward, rising off of him until only his tip was inside her, then smoothly pressed back down, the now familiar movement making both of them shiver. Grinning broadly, the former princess pushed herself back upright, beginning to build the slow, steady rhythm her body demanded, using her lover's hands as leverage to steady herself. Already, the press and rub of his member within her was better than that night, better still for already having experienced it once this night. But there was something special about this position, something that sent the pleasure to greater heights, even if it was only memories. Every lift of her legs, every buck upward of his hips as he joined in her movements was another wave of sensation, another measure of joy and need. Their pace was quickening again, but she knew neither was close, not yet.

Arching her back, she raised her muzzle towards the sky, pressing herself down against him, changing the angle of her thrusts and Galen let out a sound of surprise and pleasure beneath her. Now she could feel the rising peak coming upon her, but though she knew she could prolong the experience, change the angles yet again and stave it off, she didn't want to do that. Her chest heaving with excitement, the white werewolf increased her pace yet higher, her hands clenching as she felt the familiar sensation of Galen's knot beginning to grow, the tie coming on fast. But, though her instincts told her to seek it, she smiled, the memory of the moment on that first night, the time where she had learned the difference between loving a human and mating a werewolf coming back. Grinning widely, Julianna clenched her muscles with perfect timing, keeping the bulge of flesh outside of her as it grew. Beneath her, Galen looked up in surprise, but when he saw the look of anticipation of her face, he understood what she was doing, and he held himself back, not throwing his full effort into his upward movements.

Then, just when the moment had almost passed, just when it was almost too late, Julianna pressed downward hard, feeling Galen thrust up just as intensely against her. And there it was, the familiar straining sensation she had felt the first time, and now, as then, she felt the same determination and desire. For a few exquisite seconds, the couple pressed hard against one another, and then, finally the resistance gave way and Galen's member shot into her once more, knot and all. The feeling was every bit as intense as it was, but this time, the howl of pleasure that rose from them as they came in unison wasn't the discordance of a human and a wolf. This was all wolf, the pair quivering and bucking against one another as they once again filled the night with their song. And then, it was over, and for a few glorious seconds, they were frozen, Julianna upright on top of him, then, as before, she felt her body slump forward, coming to rest nestled into the grey fur of Galen's chest.

But this time, there was no desire to lift herself free of him. Instead, she snuggled in closer, nestling into a comfortable position, Galen's arms once more encircling her, holding her close. If she had known the exceptional, unmatched pleasure and satisfaction that could only be found drifting off like this, she probably wouldn't have tried to move back then. But, then again, the journey from there to here had been more wonderful than she had imagined, even counting the dark times they had passed through, so who was she to complain. Nuzzling her lover's neck, Julianna laid her head into his fur and closed her eyes. She could feel the radiant sensation of comfort and closeness coming from the wolf within her and the werewolf who held her and let herself go, dozing in her mate's arms, the pair bathed in the full, rich moonlight of the night that belonged to them and no others...