Siebold

by Lee Savino

  The wolf’s ears twitched but he didn’t move.

  “He’s still learning that one,” I said. A few people chuckled.

  “’E’s a good un,” Dafydd crept up and dropped to his haunches. He extended a grubby hand for the wolf to sniff.

  We all waited, wide-eyed, to see what the wolf would do.

  Siebold sniffed the boy’s hand. He ducked his head and bucked at the hand, forcing the boy to pet him.

  Relieved murmurs ran through the crowd.

  “He’s a big un,” Cynog commented. “But I suppose that’s good for you. Woman living alone out in them woods. Can’t be too careful.”

  “Yes. Too right.” I stiffened my knees so I wouldn’t sink to the ground in relief.

  Dafydd kept petting Siebold, the villagers relaxed and started to drift away. Quickly as that, they seemed to accept the wolf in their midst.

  “Mistress Meadhan,” someone called. It was Alwyn. Mistress Donna’s son came ambling through the throngs. “Good morning.” He would’ve walked right up to my side, but suddenly Siebold was on his feet. Alwyn stopped in his tracks, hand on his long knife as the huge wolf snarled at him.

  “Siebold, no,” I shouted.

  Teeth still bared, Siebold settled back down.

  Alwyn’s shoulders lowered, though he didn’t take his hand from his knife. “I see you still have the wolf.”

  “Yes,” I smiled weakly.

  “Shall I walk you to your stall?” he held out a hand for my basket, but Siebold pushed between us.

  “I’ve got it,” I fisted my hand in Siebold’s ruff just in case he decided to lunge for Alwyn. “It’s all right. He’s...overprotective.”

  “Indeed.” Alwyn did not hold the wolf’s behavior against me. He chatted amiably as he walked me to my stall, and bowed his head to me before he left, promising to convey my greetings to his mother.

  “He does not lack bravery,” I muttered to myself as I watched his tall form stride away.

  At my side, the wolf growled.

  “As for you,” I rounded on the wolf. “I expect better behavior from you. Do not growl at my friends.”

  Friend? Siebold’s voice spoke in my head.

  “That’s right. He’s a good man.”

  In answer, the wolf cocked a leg and let loose a spray of urine in the direction of the retreating man.

  “Bad dog,” I scolded. The wolf’s ears went flat. He didn’t like being called a dog, but I’d had enough. “You heard me. Go lie down.”

  “C’mon, wolfie,” Dafydd settled himself near my stall. Siebold trotted over to him. It seemed the two would be my guardians today. I kept an eye on them, but they seemed to get along fine. The wolf never snarled or bit at Dafydd, and the boy was perfectly at ease with the wild creature, being half feral himself.

  It took the villagers longer to be brave enough to approach my stall, but by midday I was doing steady business. Siebold mostly bared his teeth at the men, but most of my customers were women. When I noticed a nervous man hanging about, waiting for a chance to slip past the wolf, I gave Dafydd a coin to buy some meat pies and sent the wolf with him. My male customer got his potion before the wolf and boy returned, sharing a pie between them.

  “’E likes pies,” Dafydd informed me solemnly as the wolf lapped at his fingers.

  “He’ll eat anything.” I shook my head, but watching the wolf befriend the boy made my heart sigh.

  “Did you eat all that buck?” Dafydd asked.

  “Of course not. There’s still plenty. I salted some of it, and put the rest in the smokehouse.”

  The boy’s eyes glittered as I described the food. “You’re welcome to come back with us, Dafydd. We’ll give you all the meat you can eat, whenever you wish.”

  Dafydd squinted at me. “You’ll make me wash again, though.”

  “Oh yes.” I turned to hide my smile. I noticed the boy’s face was cleaner than usual.

  “Suppose that’s fair,” Dafydd shrugged, and went to crouch near the wolf.

  Throughout the afternoon, the wolf and boy played in the shadows. As the sun began to dip lower and make way for the moon, a foul shadow came over the market.

  “Boy, come away from that creature.”

  Dafydd stiffened at his father’s words.

  With the two males standing in the same area, I saw the resemblance. They shared the same beaked nose.

  The priest went to cuff the boy. Dafydd cringed. A flash of fur, and Siebold was between them, snarling.

  The priest staggered back with a yelp. “He bit me!”

  I hurried out from behind my stall. “You should not antagonize him,” I said calmly to hide my pounding heart.

  The bite was only a scrap of skin on the backside of the priest’s hand. Punishment for trying to cuff Dafydd. But the blow had been dealt. A crowd was gathering. And the priest knew he had an audience.

  “Behold what evil stirs in the heart of this valley,” said the priest.

  All eyes went to Siebold who still bared his teeth.

  “Siebold,” I whispered, but it was too late.

  The priest paraded himself in front of our stall, pandering to the growing crowd. “This is why we need the protection of Offa’s men. They will save us.”

  “Save us from what?” Gruffudd, the blacksmith, called. His daughter Eira, stood beside him, wide eyed.

  “From evil.” The priest’s face turned red. “Witches and demons live in these woods.”

  A few frowns, but no one disagreed. And in my mind’s eye, I saw the flames rise.

  This was how it started.

  20

  Siebold

  The taste of the male’s blood on my tongue was as vile as his stench. I knew the taste of evil. It ran all through this man’s veins.

  It didn’t take my keen eyesight to see that the boy and the foul man were related, though the boy was thin from malnourishment. There was light in Dafydd’s eyes where his father’s gaze was little more than a dark pit.

  As the priest pointed his grubby finger at me, Dafydd edged closer to me. In the distance I saw the men who had tried to take Meadhan. It was time to enact my plan. I would kill those men. Added to the list would be the priest.

  But I felt Meadhan’s hand at the back of my neck.

  Please, she begged.

  I heard her words, but it was the vision in her mind that stayed me.

  Meadhan, younger, her face round and filled with fear. She crouched in the dark.

  Hiding.

  Her gaze was latched on a woman.

  The woman was older. She had Meadhan’s face, but her skin was pale. Her lips were pressed closed. Only to wrench open wide. A howl of pain erupted from her.

  In my mind, I could hear Meadhan screaming in terror. But her lips stayed shut. She stayed quiet.

  Hiding.

  Alone, in the dark, while her mother screamed.

  I staggered out of the memory. With a glance at Meadhan, I saw that she’d carefully packed away her thoughts of the past. Her face a mask that no one in this village had ever penetrated. I doubt anyone had ever tried.

  I will break all of her defenses. Smash them until she reveals her true nature to me. Only me.

  I stood guard as she packed her things from her stall. The priest kept droning on. But no one stopped us from leaving the village and making our way into the forest.

  21

  Meadhan

  I’d spent my life in hiding. A few days and this man, this beast, destroyed everything I’d worked for. Everything I’d built.

  Siebold shifted in the middle of the forest. I wanted to shout at him even then as the magic shook the leaves free of their branches. He planted himself before me on two legs instead of four. Gloriously naked.

  “What were you thinking?” I demanded, keeping my gaze off his ever ready manhood.

  “Those men are weaklings.” He wiped the comment away as though it were a fly nagging him. “The thugs, the priest. I could dispense of them with a flick of m
y wrist. And then we could rule this village. Together.”

  He reached for me. I moved out of his way.

  “You saw a handful of men,” I said. “But Offa the Bloody has many men. A pack. You have no idea what a pack can do.”

  “You would be surprised,” he muttered.

  “And you were about to attack the priest. Do you know what an important man he is in the village?”

  “He hit the boy,” Siebold growled.

  I looked away at that. I had had the same instinct. But violence was a part of this world. “There are worse things than being hit.”

  My mother’s face flashed in my mind. The bonfire flames rising higher and higher. The echoes of men’s voices as they laughed and shouted, Kill the witch!

  “At least I didn’t eat him,” Siebold grumbled.

  “Is that your excuse? You deserve a treat because you didn’t eat someone?”

  Siebold shrugged, confusion marring his brow. I would be struck by how beautiful he was if I didn’t feel the danger trickling down my spine. The magic in my fingers strained to be released. I balled my hands into fists to keep it contained.

  He took me by my shoulders. The magic surged, responding to his touch. It truly was him. He was the cause of my lessening control over what was inside of me. Every time he touched me, the bright sparks in me that I fought so hard to hide would ignite and push against my flesh to be free.

  “You need to go,” I said, shrugging off his touch.

  “Fine, we’ll go home.”

  “No,” I whirled on him. “I’m going to my home. You’re going wherever you came from.”

  “I’m not leaving you. You are mine.”

  “I belong to no man.”

  His teeth glistened. I knew for certain he wanted to bite me then, to mark me so that all the world would see that my heart and soul belonged to him. Wolves only mated to those who had magic. If he marked me everyone would know that there was magic inside me.

  But it was already too late.

  My thoughts turned dark as we reached my home. Siebold had fixed the roof as promised. I’d swept up the pottery, all signs of our violent lovemaking gone. The space felt different. More of a home. I’d made memories here, memories I didn’t want to forget. People I didn’t want to leave behind.

  But I had other, darker memories. And they told me I could not stay.

  Siebold watched me pace back and forth.

  “Meadhan,” he murmured. “Look at me.” I refused to do so and he pressed his forehead against mine. Despite myself, my fingers curled in his hair. “It will be alright.” His lips found my ear. “I will fix it.”

  “How?” My voice was broken.

  “I will kill them all.”

  My laugh was half incredulous, half despairing. “You cannot kill them all.”

  “Then punish them. They cannot be allowed to hurt you.”

  “I can take care of myself, wolf.” I pushed away from him, noting how he stiffened as I turned my back to him.

  “Then why have you not done so?” His voice was deep, cold.

  I whirled around. “You want me to reveal my powers? Produce some display meant to intimidate them all so they fear me?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’d be just like Offa and all the rest. The bullies who use fear to rule.” My lip curled. “You want that, Siebold? You want me to rule?”

  “Why not?” He cocked his head. “You’d be different.”

  “I cannot do it. I will not use my powers.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I cannot let them see!” I threw my hands up.

  A gust of wind hit the hut and banged the door open. Siebold caught it before it could slam. He latched it firmly and leaned against it for good measure. His posture was calm but his eyes were bright gold.

  I didn’t care. I started to pace in the tiny space. “You think I like hiding out here? Slinking into the market, healing in secret? Never to use my true powers, never to reveal who I am?”

  Siebold’s bright eyes followed me back and forth.

  “I can’t be who I really am. Not now, not ever.” I stopped and covered my face with my hands. The vision of my mother’s agonized face came unbidden.

  Strong hands caught mine. Siebold tangled his fingers with mine. He turned my hand over and kissed the knuckles. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

  So I did. “My mother was a witch, with curling red hair and pale skin. My father was a warrior from a faraway land. From him, I got my dark skin. From my mother, my wild hair and magic.

  “My father died when I was young. My mother and I traveled for a while. She taught me all I know of herbal lore. And a few spells. We settled in a village, much like this one, but on the outskirts. We had to hide.” People feared what they didn’t understand. First they might respect it, but respect easily turned to resentment, and resentment to distrust. And distrust to hate. I learned that lesson from my mother, too.

  I swallowed, remembering my mother’s face from that night. Everything will be all right, my little moonbeam. It was a lie. “The men came at night, led by a priest. They accused her of using magic to heal a woman. They told my mother to confess.”

  “I used no magic. It was only herbs,” my mother had said. But she hid the truth. It wasn't just the herbs. I had said an incantation over those herbs. Otherwise, the woman would've died. The magic in my blood compelled me to heal the sick. My mother had told me to hide, and I disobeyed. And for that she died.

  “Kill the witch!” the men had shouted. And the wind had kicked up. My mother stared through the crowd straight into my hiding place. She knew my fear was the source of the oncoming storm. The elements bent to my will when my emotions ran high.

  No, Meadhan, my mother spoke to me mind to mind, as she never had before. Her voice was faint, but I heard it. Run and hide.

  “I have to hide,” I repeated, my arms around my body. “They are coming. I have to hide.”

  “Meadhan,” Siebold murmured my name, calling me back. “I am here. No one will hurt you.”

  “Hold me,” I begged, and he did. And after a moment, I drew his head down for a kiss. Another moment, and Siebold growled and swung himself over me. He drew my leg up over his hips and entered me even as our lips still sought each other, our tongues tangling. I opened myself and welcomed him into my body.

  I could not have a life here, or a home, but I could have this.

  22

  Siebold

  She was pliant beneath me. Sedated with my lovemaking, because that was what it was. Not only had I worshiped this witch with my body, I’d poured my heart and soul into her.

  I now understood why males would fight to the death for their women, their mates.

  Meadhan and I laid in the hut, bare to the midnight moon from the window. I’d brought her to climax after climax. Now she clung to me. And I to her.

  Her pulse pounded against my cheek. I turned my face, my nose met with the perfect skin of her neck. It beckoned to me.

  My fangs lengthened. My mouth watering to have more of her, all of her. Her dark eyes flashed at me in the moonlight. I held my breath with great difficulty. This was going to happen. She would wear my mark. The question was, would I need to hold her down to give it to her? Or would she accept my claim without a fight?

  “Siebold, please. Please, don’t stop. Take me. I am yours.”

  She gave a long sigh. Her eyelids fluttered closed. She turned her face to the side… exposing her neck.

  A good man would ask if she was sure. A good man would be gentle.

  I was not a good man. I was a beast. And Meadhan belonged to me.

  I sunk my teeth deep into her flesh. She screamed, her body convulsing in my arms, her inner muscles squeezing me until I roared and thrust deep. My cock jerked and I spilled my seed.

  “Siebold,” Meadhan sighed and slumped, spent. Her shoulders jerked once when I licked the mark I’d made, but her eyes remained closed. I waited until the tears in her flesh start
ed to close.

  It was done. My bite would heal, but the mark would remain, branding her as mine.

  I cradled her close. My eyes grew heavy but I fought sleep, wanting to stay awake a moment longer. Just to be with Meadhan. Just to hold her. For the first time in a century, I was at peace. I held my mate in my arms and now my beast could sleep.

  23

  Meadhan

  It was the magic that woke me, not the rays of the sun. The tendrils of light danced over my skin. The warmth touched my eyelids. Heated my lips. A large body stole between my legs and thrusted inside of me.

  Siebold.

  After bringing me to untold heights into the deepest dark of the night, he demanded more of my body at first light. He found no more resistance within me. I opened to him completely, allowing my desire to flow out of me and join his.

  His golden strands were damp on his forehead as he hovered over me. The tawny gold on his chest glistened as he brushed my nipples. I caught glimpses of the thatch between his legs as his curls mingled with my own, slickening us both with our shared passion.

  When the act was done, I lay in a stupor. Too tired to move. Still not understanding the spell his body had cast on me. But I knew this could not last. I had to rise. There was still the matter of my livelihood.

  Before my feet touched the floor, his large hand snaked out and grabbed me.

  "Where do you think you're going?" His voice was more growl than man.

  When I looked over at him, his sun gold gaze sparkled with untapped heat. Could he possibly want more? Could I possibly resist?

  "I must get to work," I said.

  "I'll put you to work," he purred, pulling me to him.

  "Life is not all pleasure all day." But my protest was weak as he traced the line between my breasts.

  "It will be for you."

  "Siebold, please,” I giggled at his tickling fingers, then firmed my tone. “I must put food on the table or starve."

  “Woman, I brought you food,” he said as he nipped at my belly. “If you require more, I’ll go out and hunt again. After another a taste of you."