Chapter 1

High priestess Tyrande Whisperwind rolled her eyes as Orolas continued to speak. She was sitting in the grand chamber – a place of meeting, where she and members of her governing body – the temple of Elune met with important nobles of the night elves. Merchants, guildsmen and heads of important families sat at the large, round table that filled the room.

On her right hand, her surrogate daughter, Shandris Feathermoon, leader of the Sentinels, the night elven military, on her left Maiev Shadowsong, leader of the wardens a separate military organization not under the direct control of Tyrande.

There were also important generals and captains and a representative from the Druidic Cenarion Circle. Oh, how Tyrande wished for her husband to be here with her. Instead, he was locked away, forever asleep, gone. And she was all alone now.

Orolas finally finished his speech and she thanked him for stating his concern. She was barely listening, as this meeting was dragging on for hours now. They were discussing improvements to the infrastructure of the city. Their new temporary home on Mount Hyjal at the foot of Nordrassil was growing with each passing day. What started as a tent camp for refugees and a center to organize their governance, quickly developed into a bustling city with more and more stone structures being erected every day.

Tyrande didn’t know how long would they stay here, but she knew her people needed a home. They needed to feel safe somewhere again and with parts of the land slowly healing, this was a good place to stay, for a while.

The cooperation of merchants, guildsmen and influential nobles was key to the swiftness of the building effort and Tyrande had to jump over hoops to make sure, they would go through with it. Most of them respected her too much, to give her any sort of trouble though. Most of them.

She noticed one of the troublemakers stare at her intently. Saerion Autumnbranch was an enigma for her. He usually agreed to any proposal she made of him, even pretending to be happy about them, but his piercing green eyes told another story. Their gaze was intense and despite everything she endured over the millennia of leading her people, he made her feel uneasy.

She had indications that he tried to turn other nobles against her, potentially even questioning her rule, but there was never any evidence and he never challenged her openly. Night elven society was ruled by the high priestess for millennia now, the theocracy of Elune was engraved in their society. Tyrande couldn’t figure out, what he hoped to achieve with his intrigue, yet.

“Will you too allocate some funds for the construction of the watchtowers on the perimeter around the city, lord Saerion?” she asked, innocently but with a stern expression that told to everyone in the room, that it was a demand, not a question. Tyrande wanted to push him a little, to make him show his true colors in front of others.

He clenched his jaw before releasing it into a wide smile as he bowed his head. “It would be my pleasure, high priestess.” he said with a voice smooth as silk. Tyrande thanked him and moved on to the next item on the list, she could find out more about that snake later on.

Much later, as the meeting ended and the cool breeze brought in the smell of night, she held up Shandris by her side, until everyone left the great council chamber. “Can you put someone to watch Saerion, please?” she said.

Shandris raised her eyebrow “Why him?” she asked.

“I have a feeling ... just watch him.” Tyrande couldn’t understand why that man raised all her alarms, but there was something ... sinister about him.

Shandris nodded and left quickly with a slight smile. To watch was easy, for her trained sentinels especially a noble idiot with no training.

As Tyrande was about to leave, gathering her papers and packing up, she heard steps enter the room. For a minute she thought she recognized those steps. Malfurion? She thought, her heart fluttered, her legs quivered slightly she thought that somehow maybe her husband was alive once more ... but it was a foolish thought. Doron Amberwing, the new leader of the Cenarion Circle entered.

This was not her druid, she thought.

“I wanted to stop by, priestess, and offer my sincere sympathies. All these efforts over the past two years must tire you terribly, if there is anything I or the Circle can help you with, just say the word.” he said with a tenderness she didn’t expect from him. He was the leader of the Circle, an old druid, even if his body still seemed youthful. He was one of the first that joined Malfurion’s side as his pupil.

“Thank you, Doron, but you and the Circle have already helped me tremendously. Your druidic craft aided in the construction of the city and in the healing of the land, there is nothing more I could ask of you.” she said with a polite smile. It was true, without druids, the city would be half its size by now, and with the constant flow of more and more refugees that wasn’t something she could afford.

He smiled back “I don’t mean that kind of help.” his eyes studied her for a moment “I meant, that if you, personally need something, just ask. Be it restful sleep a friend, or an ally, just ask.” he said still smiling.

Tyrande nodded and thanked him for his offer, saying that she would surely take him up on that before she quickly departed and headed toward her home. That was really fucking weird, she thought.

Tyrande’s home was on the outskirts of the city, just behind the new temple of Elune that was being built. It stood on a small hill, overlooking what would soon become the city’s new district.

Her home, just behind the temple itself was hidden in a dense grove of trees, its multiple stories climbing up into their branches. Its wooden exterior blending in with its surroundings, except for the windows. She wanted them there so that she could look out and see the grove around her.

The moonwell of the unfinished temple was ready and she saw some priestesses take from its magic for their rituals and healing.

But Tyrande didn’t need to go there. She had her own, much smaller moonwell here, in her home. She wanted something private, something just for herself.

Over the past couple of decades, some parts of her life became shrouded in secrecy that only she could know. After all the wars and strife she faced, she thought that a small indulgence was only natural. Stepping into her home, she took off her boots and her white, ceremonial armor. Walking up the steps towards the third floor of her house she threw away her undergarments and continued naked. This was her home, a place where she could be as she wanted to be.

If anyone could see her, their mind would twist and turn in on itself. Her firm, slender body, her big, shapely bust, her strong thighs, as she ran up the stairs, leaving all these jewels of her supple, purple-skinned body on display. All of them and more, she thought as she grabbed her shapely, strong ass. This one she liked the most about herself. Her nethers were already steaming with expectation as if her body knew what she planned for tonight.

She quickly ran to the top, where on her giant terrace, sinking into the stone floor, her private moonwell waited for her. She got so used to having this little luxury of her own, that she even washed in its magical waters.

She dipped her toe in it and found it nice and warm. She stepped into it, sitting on one of the stone benches, that she had made there for her comfort. She looked down and saw the temple, its construction almost complete, and behind it her city, growing with each passing day. Her people, strong and unbroken by their tragedy, were ready to rebuild their lives.

This terrace was cowered with magic. None could see her, none could even see the moonwell or hear anything that would be said up here. She wanted her privacy.

A thought appeared in her mind, it was just an image, just a small bit of sensory memory appearing in preparation for tonight. She rose up, sitting on the edge of the well and spread her legs. Giving a gentle tap to her yearning pussy she felt her arousal mounting, her blood boiling in her veins. She started gently rubbing her nethers. Switching from irritating her gate to assaulting her clit in irregular patterns to prolong her pleasure for as long as she wished.

Grabbing and squeezing her breast she closed her eyes. At first, an image of Malfurion appeared before her. Bathed in the silver light of the moon, they made love in a glade away from prying eyes. Tender, lasting, full of love.

The image quickly faded and a new one took its place.

Illidan, Malfurion’s brother.

It was during the last war with the legion. Their duties kept her separated from her husband and even when they were together, Malfurion neglected her, always having something more important to do ... and Illidan was there to talk. He was rough, his demonic corruption dulling his empathy, but still, he tried to listen. There was a time, long ago when she thought herself in love with both brothers. His attentiveness reminded her of those days.

During that campaign in times of calm, however scarce they were, she found Illidan, alone. Many times he took what she offered freely. Many times she took what he had to give. It wasn’t love that pushed them together. It was lust, animalistic need, it was the part of their bond that was still alive, together with the part of their bond that turned to hate.

They were like wild animals in heat, like nothing she ever experienced with Malfurion and soon after the first time she came back ... she wanted more.

Everything changed on that night, almost a decade ago. Tyrande discovered how deep her lust truly goes ... and she reveled in it.

While pushing two of her fingers into her overflowing pussy, she continued to massage her clit with her other hand.

She closed her eyes. It was a night like this one, hot and filled with anticipation.

Illidan promised her a surprise. A special night of lust even more intense than any so far, he said. She was filled with anticipation, only a small island of hesitation still unbroken by the waves of her lust, advised caution. She didn’t want to cheat on Malfurion, but he was not there. He abandoned her for millennia and now, that he was here again, he just ignored her? She couldn’t even remember the last time they were together...

Illidan on the other hand ... was here for her, with an understanding that what they were doing meant nothing more than a bit of fun ... he was ready to give and to take. As if he precisely knew what she needed ... at times even better than herself.

She was waiting for him in the forest clearing, as they arranged. Sitting on a rock in what remained of her armor after the last battle. It was torn and scraped, revealing her skin in multiple places, but there were no smiths around to fix it. Besides, she believed Elune, her goddess, would protect her.

The rustle of leaves in the bushes warned her of his approach and as she turned indeed, there he was, Illidan with all his demonic corruption, his torn wings, his horns and green, glowing eyes.