The Wolf and the Druidess (2 page)

Dried brown leaves and brittle twigs crunched beneath her feet as she trudged on. The apex between her thighs felt empty and on fire, from gaping at the men’s bare bodies. She craved to be held in the sturdy arms of a warrior as he slid his hard, sinewy length into her pulsating core. The cool breeze soothed her flushed skin. It lifted a few strands of her hair, reminding her of Cynfarch’s long, warm fingers playing with her red tresses. She throbbed again.

Glancing at the basket, she breathed in the strong, meaty scent of blood pudding links, sweet honey, and fresh apples. The aroma turned her thoughts back to her mother. Her lust slacked as she ached anew for the only parent she’d known, as her father had died shortly after her birth. Soft warmth filled her at the thought of seeing her mother’s ghost tonight.

Tears threatened to fall, engulfed by the memory of her mother. The moon had waxed and waned only ten times since she’d fallen ill in winter and death had taken her.

Seren glanced at the white, gleaming orb overhead as she entered a small clearing, but the movements of the wind or small creatures in the dark, caused it to appear as if other people or creatures loomed in the shadows, hiding, watching.

Shaking from the chill wind, she swallowed hard and spoke aloud. “I come to visit my mother. If you are spirits, follow the path to the village and meet with your kith and kin. I have not come for you. Hasten to the homes of your loved ones and leave me alone.”

If they were ghosts, they would listen. She hoped. Seren didn’t have time for a spirit to take over her body on Samhain. After waiting ten turns of the moon to visit with her mother, she wouldn’t let anyone or anything stop her. The pain of her mother’s death reminded her of a minor parting when she was twelve and went to the druid center of learning for fostering, just across the
Menai
River
to the island of Ynys Mon. She‘d been horribly homesick away from her mother at that age.

Her mother had been so proud and told everyone, “See how wise my daughter is, so blessed by the gods, the druids took her to foster.”

Few were chosen, training took many years, and a druid’s ranking in the tribe placed as high as the chief’s. Seren was surprised how much older she was now, five and twenty years, still she had a need for her mother. The loss was deep. It had left a hole in her. Warmth and joy would return to her heart tonight when she celebrated her favorite feast day, Samhain, the New Year, with her departed mother.

Just moments ago she’d heard the call of an owl, the chirp of a bird, and the whistling wind, but the forest had grown so quiet she could hear the crackle of dried leaves and the rustle of her elbow brushing across a bush.

As she walked, she glimpsed a creature passing like a black shadow between the spooky trees. It crept in stealth like part of the darkness itself. A shiver shot through her. But the mysterious being didn’t make a sound and seemed uninterested in her. Seren held the torch out as she turned around, searching for anything there. She saw nothing.

Seren kept to the narrow path as she walked deeper into the forest. She’d sensed something. Mayhap a spirit, they came to earth tonight, but she knew it wasn’t her mother’s ghost, she’d recognize her.

There was no turning back. Whatever it was, she would make peace with it. Seren had to bring the Samhain meal to her mother and honor her, yet she couldn’t shake the odd feeling someone was watching her.

Holding the torch high, she chanted. “The torch is burning, the year is turning, by this light, I greet the spirits of Samhain night.” Seren called out. “Who is there? Be you sprit or man?”

No one answered and she picked up her pace down the dirt path through the thick forest, so dense with trees. Brandishing the burning torch like a bright weapon, she hurried on shaky legs toward the cairn. She gasped, when she nearly tripped over a large fallen branch, but caught her footing just in time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the shadow again. Something was following her. To muster her strength, she took a deep breath. An icy chill crept into her chest. Sensing something behind her, she spun around, but no one, nothing, was there. With a tight grip on the torch, she shifted her shoulders back, tilted her chin up and walked on toward the cairn.

“I am a powerful druid with naught to fear from anything in this forest. It’s Samhain, my favorite holiday and I’m carrying a fine feast prepared by the nine maidens, to share with my dear mother,” Seren said aloud. “Hear me, spirits, trouble me and you shall regret it. I shall call upon the gods and have you tossed back into the otherworld.”

From the eerie silence of the forest, a haunting howl ripped through the air. She stopped in her tracks. It sounded too close. A wolf hunting. There was better game than her. Knowing there was nothing for her to be afraid of, she remained brave, yet her body trembled. With her next steps, she kept her footfalls as light as possible, walking
stealthily
on the path,
to not draw the beast’s attention.

When she came upon the clearing, she held the torch out and gazed at the large, smooth stones, piled one on top of the other. Her mother’s cairn lay in a pool of dried leaves. Her throat tightened and she swallowed back a sob as she moved closer. She couldn’t breathe. Heat radiated from the grave as if her mother stood there. Seren bore a hard stare at the stones as if to call forth the image of the tall woman, with a compelling oval face framed by shoulder-length brown hair.

“
Mam
...” Her voice choked. “I have brought a basket of Samhain treats.”

Though her mother didn’t appear, she knew she soon would.
Her body quivered, not from fear but from joy bubbling in her. She shone the firebrand on an old oak stump in front of the cairn and plopped down on it. Seren stabbed the end of the torch into the ground, so she had light. Facing the cairn, she called out to her mother’s spirit.

“We have a lovely feast.
”
Seren pulled out a large red apple. She stood, stepped forward, and stooped down to set it on the pile of stones.

When she straightened, she gasped. There, by the oak, facing her, with naught between her and it, but the cairn, loomed a white wolf with pink-tipped ears.

Seren stood transfixed. Her heart hammered at the look of hunger in his amber eyes, glowing like a Samhain fire.

Fighting her fear, she remembered her druid training, her knowledge of wolf lore. In a soft, soothing tone, she spoke. “Wolf, we live in peace, you and I and your kind and mine. On this eve of Samhain, it is best you stay with your pack. For those who appear human, this eve, may not be.”

She smiled and he seemed to grin back, but the flash of his white, jagged teeth roused her fears even more.

She didn’t want those fangs sinking into her flesh. She took a deep breath. “Do not chew on me, there is better meat for you in the deep dark woods.” His pink tongue, hanging from his huge mouth captured her gaze.

As the beast jerked his neck back and howled, the haunting sound reverberated in the air.

Slow and quiet so the wolf wouldn’t become alarmed, she took one step back. He wiggled his nose as if smelling her. Seren shivered as she gazed at his long snout. The looming wolf took one step closer.

She could not outrun him. If she managed to trick him and get away long enough to hide, he would sniff her out.

“Wolf, look what I have for you.” Pulling out a black pudding link, she tossed it toward him. It landed in a patch of grass at his side. “Food.” She smiled. “Eat your food, wolf. It is good.”

The white wolf never turned its head. With his gaze fixed on Seren, he stared hungrily, as if he thought of her as a delicious treat.

Seren blinked and wondered if it was all the tall trees amid the darkness and the shadows in the night that caused the beast to appear as if his form shifted. She clutched her chest. Her heartbeat quickened as the wolf’s fur and muscles twisted. The beast’s body emitted sounds like the creaking of joints but much louder. Watching the wolf’s body expand while other features contracted made her stomach lurch. She slid her hand from her chest to her belly. A voice in her head told her what she saw couldn’t be real. She blinked, yet still the wolf changed before her eyes, his gorgeous white pelt shortened until it transformed into bronze-tinted skin.

A tall man with cascading golden hair and eyes the gray-blue of a stormy, summer sky stood nude before her. Seren blinked again. The man fluttered his hands in front of his body and suddenly he was clothed in an opened white, gold-speckled druid robe and plaid pants covered his trunk-like legs. Heat emanated from him. She gawked at the lush bronze skin of his bare, muscular chest beneath his robe. “Druid robe...shape shifted from wolf to…” As realization dawned, she dropped to her knees. ”God Gwydion, it is you?”

“Rise.” With a flutter of his fingers, he gestured for her to stand. “Druidess Seren, bewitched by your charms, I had to follow you to your mother’s cairn.”

Her flesh prickled. “God, what say you, why have you come?”

As his gaze roamed over her body, his eyes gleamed with a sensuous fire. “For you.”

Seren’s heart thundered. “Why have you appeared to me, only, and not the tribe?”

He flashed a white-toothed grin, sending a surge of heat spiraling through her.

In his deep, smooth voice he said, “the tribe does not interest me as much as you do.”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to rasp, “Why?”

Standing before the tall, muscular god, she had an overpowering desire to strip off her clothes. Fiery heat rose from his flesh. She yanked back the hood of her robe and slipped it off, tossing it atop her mother’s cairn. Yet her skin still burned like a Samhain bonfire roared inside her. An actual god, Gwydion, the deity of druids and magic had come for her. Her body went limp, woozy.

Seren longed for Gwydion to draw her to him and crush her breasts against the hard muscled wall of his physique. Her fingers itched to glide down the sprinkling of soft blond whorls on his chest. She wasn’t a fool, she knew the god had come for a tryst only. She could never hand-fast with him. But they could couple around the bonfire and she lied to herself that it would be enough.

As a druidess, she kept the balance and knew she had to embrace what was, rather than yearn for that which could never be. He would never see her as more than a mortal woman he’d come to tryst with for Samhain.

Seren raised her gaze to his face, fascinated by the long, golden moustache framing his parted lips. Shivers of desire raced through her as she imagined his sultry mouth covering hers in a savage kiss. She longed to watch his wet lips part to rasp her name and utter wild groans in the height of love play.

He took a step closer and fluttered his strong fingers in front of his chest again, and this time his clothing vanished and he stood nude before her.

She stepped back, shocked. “God, why did you take your clothes off?”

“Now that we know each other, I thought you would prefer to see me bare. Most women enjoy the view.”

Her gaze roamed up and down his chiseled body and then locked onto his loins. She gaped at the plentiful length of his stiff rod. She licked her lower lip. The moist place between her legs throbbed.

“This can’t be happening.” Her gaze drifted to her mother’s cairn. She stepped up to the grave and looked down at the stones. “No, I cannot do this. Not now.” She turned toward him. “I have not come here, this eve, for love play. You are tempting, but it is Samhain. I have come to visit and sup with my mother.”

“She is not here.”

“Yet, she will come. It is the day between time when spirits cross the veil so easily. And I do miss her.”

“I can bring her here.”

“Do you mean to summon her from the otherworld?”

“My sister, Arianrhod assists mortals in transitioning from life, to death, to rebirth. Just as she sailed your mother to the otherworld on her ship, Oar Wheel, she can bring her here to spend Samhain with you.”

“I would love nothing more, yet I cannot be selfish.
Mam
may be busy, she may even have chosen rebirth.” As her gaze dropped from his face to his broad chest and then slid to his erect shaft, the smoldering fire in her, blazed to a red-hot heat. Knowing she had to resist this urgent yearning, she turned away. She’d come here to see her mother. “Gwydion, conjure your clothes. Please, dress.”

“If you insist.” With a flick of his hand, his clothes appeared again. “Arianrhod can help you. She will know if your mother has been reborn or has some quest or duty that would keep her from you this Samhain.”

Seren set the basket on the cairn. “Then, call upon the goddess so I may see my dear mother.”

“An offering must be given first.”

“Do you mean to the goddess Arianrhod?”

“No, for me, I ask for a kiss.”

“A kiss I can give, Gwydion.” She viewed his full lips curving into a wide, captivating smile. It was getting harder to put her mother first. The pull she felt toward him, the throbbing attraction for him grew stronger.

He moved closer and wrapped his warm, muscular arms around her, leaned down, and ran his tongue across her upper lip.

A shiver of heat shot through her as his warm lips engulfed hers. With a subtle to and fro thrust of his lips, the kiss was more of a massage than a caress. His lips burned into hers. Gwydion forced her mouth open with a thrust of his hot, wet tongue and flicked it in and out. The pressure of her urgent need coiled in her. When his lips eased off hers, Gwydion panted and his face beamed with a red flush.

His mouth swooped to her ear. Delicious sensation engulfed her as his teeth grazed her earlobe. He blew a puff of hot air into her ear. Seren let out a soft moan. She quivered as his wet mouth blazed a path to her neck. The sensitive skin of her nape tingled.

“What a beautiful torque,” he rasped.

Seren touched the thick, open-ended gold band ringing her neck. “It belonged to my mother.” She’d almost forgotten about her. “Can the goddess summon her now?”