Evalayna raised her head slightly to look over her shoulder at the animation she had raised. She flicked her fingertips at it. "Go to sleep." It promptly shut its eyes and bowed its head.
Tranorva's harsh sob pulled Evalayna even farther from the rest she craved. Evalayna sat up, abandoning all notions of sleep entirely. "What is it, Daughter? What troubles ye?"
Tranorva further stunned her by sinking to her knees, folding her head into her mother's lap as she had when she was but a girl. "It is no use. 'Tis a fool's errand, Mother. The Faerie King will no' grant us this boon."
"Ye know this for a fact?"
"It came to me in a dream, Élandine's words. Love such as ours is forbidden in Faerie. I have made him an outcast amongst his own people. His king will no' ever return him to me."
Evalayna thought to comfort her child, but she knew with a mother's instinct Tranorva would not accept her platitudes. "Ye must go and gather much wood, then."
Tranorva looked up, her face wet with tears. "Wood?"
"Aye. As soon as thy sister and Seanen arrive, we shall commence with the funeral pyre. We can no' take the chance that some beast of the tundra might happen upon his cairn and uncover the body."
"A pyre? Ye mean to burn him? But–but Mother, ye said he is no' dead!"
"Aye, no' in the normal sense that a Human male might be dead, but he is dead enough, dead to this world, and if, as ye say, it is hopeless, then we must dispose of the body. We can no' have that following us about for the next eighty years, now can we? It is helpless as a newborn, and it can no' take care of itself."
Tranorva blanched. "Surely the gods would no' offer us this boon if it could no' be."
Evalayna shrugged. "Yet ye say it is hopeless. Perhaps the gods knew not of his disgrace."
"They are the gods!" Tranorva argued. "They know all!"
"Then will ye trust in them?" Evalayna asked, her voice softer this time. "Or shall we give up now?"
Tranorva's eyes searched hers. "I–I would trust in something, anything, rather than admit there is no hope. Yet I fear the hope as much as the loss, for hope is a two-edged sword."
Evalayna took her daughter's hands and raised them clasped between her own. "The Fey have few rules, Daughter, save they shall no' take a Human life without reason. Shammall himself told me this long ago. If there be a prohibition against the Fey mating with humans, I suspect it is one that has been broken before, and will be again, for hearts go most often where they are directed not to. Mayhap the King of Faerie might also be the one to ask a variance for this transgression, as well."
Tranorva nodded slowly. "You are wise, Mother. If I must I will give him up, rather than see his life forfeit."
"Let us pray that will no' be necessary." Evalayna glanced at the lifeless form that guarded her, trying to remember his face animated, his wisdom pouring forth when she had needed him most. He had waited over a century to fall in love, and then he had chosen a woman with a will to match his own. Somehow, she doubted the Mage would ever agree to such a plan.
* * * * *
Evalayna came awake to the feel of his hands smoothing over her pregnant belly, caressing, worshipping, making her feel less fat and awkward and more beautiful than she had in the last several weeks. He buried his nose against her neck and sniffed deeply. His teeth closed over the sensitive spot at the base of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Mine."
Evalayna laughed as she rolled in his arms. She closed her teeth over the edge of his jaw, very close to the dimple in his chin that she liked to admire. "Mine." She nipped gently on his lower lips, loving the way his body responded to her, his thick cock instantly anxious to bury itself within her warmth. "Mine. Ye are mine, Roahr VinDall, now and forever."
"Yours," he agreed, running his hands over her rounded tummy. "Yours and yours alone, now and forever." His hands cupped her enlarged breasts, lifting their weight away from her chest, running his thumbs across the sensitive nipples ever so gently. "Take me, my greedy lover."
Evalayna might have laughed at the audacity of his suggestion, had not her body responded with so much heat and longing to his simple caress. He helped her, his broad, strong hands steadying her as she moved to straddle him, feeling awkward and ponderous. She bit her lip in disappointment. "I'm no' sure this will work."
He raised his knees up behind her, supporting her back. "We can make it work, if it pleases you, my lover."
Her doubts disappeared as she slid down over him, encasing his hot, thick length with her needy sheath. She paused there a moment, enjoying the feel of him there within her, relaxing around him as her body adjusted once more to the size of him. Her breath drew in sharply as his knowing fingers swept once again over the taut tips of her breasts, and she shuddered around him. "I have missed this. I have missed ye so much."
"I have missed you. I am sorry to have had to leave you alone so long this late in your term. Let me make it up to you now."
"Yes," was the best she could manage as she braced herself against his arms, his hands locked now on her hips, guiding her as she began the dance, steadying her, demanding, and yet still allowing her to set their pace.
Once again his control amazed her as she rode the heavy, pulsing heat of him, moving slowly, driving herself insane with the slow pace of their mating, the feel of him within her both comfortably familiar and still brand new again. She clenched hard around him on each upward stroke, as if to keep him from escaping, building the speed and the tempo as she found her rhythm, learning how this new body responded.
She lay back against his raised knees, her hair hanging down over his legs as she linked her fingers with his, delighting in the feel of his cock filling her so completely. She felt the light sheen of sweat over his skin and knew what this control was costing him. Good. She wanted to make him sweat. Wanted to make him remember every thrust in the weeks to come.
He brought their hands, still linked, back to caress her heavy breasts again, and it was her control, not his, that snapped. She lurched up to her knees, only to drop down hard on the hot thick length of him as the first fingers of greed wrapped around her, raising herself up to slide down onto him time and again.
His hips moved in rhythm to hers, seeking her heat with as much greedy lust as her own, yet still controlled, still letting her set the pace. She wanted to snap that control. She wanted all of him. She wanted...the first orgasm hit her low and hard, spreading slowly up her belly until the flush set her nipples on fire under his touch and she leaned back again, crying out his name.
Not content to leave her there, he set the pace, faster now, driving her further up the peak, rising into her again and again until the spasms of orgasm shook her like a small tree in a high wind, and she knew not how to contain the pleasure. Then all control left them both, and the hands that held her turned her within strong arms, a man no more, cradling her within the powerful embrace of the giant grizzly, his magic strong enough to take her with him as they changed together.
They rolled together, his soft, dense coat pillowing her, protecting her, as the force of their need shook them, demanding all the passion those huge bodies were capable of. "Yes, yes!" Evalayna screamed, in a language only her mate understood. She gripped him hard with her bear muscles, demanding, taking, her orgasm shattering around him again and again. He roared out his need and his love as he lost all control, exploding into her with a full load of hot, thick seed that washed over her like a balm. She tightened around him convulsively, milking him of all he had to give.
Finally, long after the last shudder had quieted into the mixture of their heavy breathing, she felt him shift beneath her, snuffing anxiously as his muzzle sniffed along hers.
"You are unhurt?"
"I am unhurt," she confirmed with an answering snuffle. "Our cub is healthy. Sleep, my love."
His heat still pulsing within her, he held her wrapped in his warmth, shielding her from the arctic cold with his massive coat. "Mine," he whispered as his eyes slid closed.
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br /> "Thine," she agreed, burying her muzzle in his fur. "Thine, forever and always."
She came awake slowly, cold and alone, the fire long since died down to no more than a few glowing embers, dotting the night like cats' eyes in the dark. "Thine," she repeated, tears staining her cheeks. "Thine forever and always."
Somewhere in the vastness of the tundra the call of a giant grizzly echoed her words.
* * * * *
The night was no longer calm. A fierce storm had rolled in, blanketing the tundra with several inches of new snow while they slept. Tranorva stood at the outside edge of the small invisible dome that acted as their tent, her eyes searching the darkness. Something or someone was out there.
Shivers colder than the arctic air ran up her spine as the ancient grizzly called out again. He'd stayed close ever since she'd run from the carnage at Élahandara. She knew it. She could feel him out there, watching them, waiting. He was getting closer, circling, moving in.
Yet she didn't fear the great bear. She knew, somehow, that he was there to protect her. She knew the timber of his voice, could judge his moods by his calls. At time she felt the urge to answer him, to call him into the camp, to come face to face with this piece of her past. Yet if she recognized his voice, surely he would have known hers, for it had been her cry of grief and despair that had brought him to watch over her. If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her. She would not go looking for him. Not after all these years.
Something beyond the dome caught her attention again. She'd neither consciously heard nor seen anything out beyond their perimeter, but she knew with her Warrior's instinct that they were not alone.
The wind had kicked up again, swirling the snow about like a sandstorm. She was well accustomed to the rigors of the tundra, trained since birth to survive in these lands. Yet without the dome, without the small fire her mother had conjured practically out of nothing, Tranorva would have been blinded by now in this storm, lost, reduced to tunneling into the core of some snowdrift to hibernate with her burden, her body's warmth their only hope of survival.
Whoever or whatever she sensed, it was no Warrior. A Warrior would have approached the fire, dragged himself the last few hundred yards to safety, fought to live another day, that he might die honorably, in battle.
Whoever was out there now would surely die, feeling warmer at last, as the blood had less body to heat, until that final sleep overcame them. No more pain. No more grief. No more...
Perhaps that fate would have been better.
Tranorva stirred herself from her own bleak thoughts, substituting action for introspection, as was her way. "We are no' alone," she warned her mother as Evalayna stirred beside the fire.
Evalayna's expression turned sad. "I know. I have heard him. I have felt his pain."
"There is another. Smaller. Closer. This one needs our help." Tranorva reached out to touch the dome. It gave way as though it did not exist, yet sealed again as soon as she withdrew her hand. Encouraged, she stepped through the edge of the dome, headed unerringly toward the tiny bit of movement she'd felt more than seen in the swirling storm. The storm nearly knocked her over, but she kept her focus. She could feel the presence, almost smell it. She concentrated on her senses, using instinct when reason failed. She could smell nothing, yet she knew it was there.
The storm closed around her until she could see nothing, could find nothing, was as useless to anyone out here as she was to herself. Defeated, she turned back toward the camp.
She spun directly into the path of the largest grizzly she'd ever seen.
He stood on his hind legs, pawing the air, and roared once at her.
To her credit, she didn't scream. That would have been much too Human a reaction. Instinct once again ruled. He wasn't threatening her. He was trying to tell her something.
Tranorva sniffed, extending her nose just slightly to taste the air. Her upper lip twitched, showing a hint of her teeth. Somehow she knew he would not harm her. She backed away from him cautiously.
She almost stumbled over the silk wrapped bundle that lay nearly lost in the snow. So small. So fragile. So ill-equipped to survive out here. She scooped up the little mouse and shouldered past the giant grizzly, ignoring his bulk as she plowed back through the snow toward the relative warmth and safety of the dome.
The grizzly rose on his hind legs again, offering a snuffle and another roar as he backed away. She'd wonder later what he was doing here, how she recognized him with such certainty, why she didn't feel threatened by him...and what he meant by his snuffled messages.
For now there was the little mouse, half frozen and nearly unconscious in her arms. This was something she could deal with.
"What have ye found?" Evalayna demanded, holding her arms out to receive the burden.
"Her name is Dahlai. In Élahandara she served as my bondswoman. She must have followed us here. Perhaps she was expelled upon my leaving. The bear found her for me."
Evalayna flinched as if she'd been struck. "Ye have seen the bear?"
Tranorva glanced over her shoulder and beckoned. The giant grizzly hesitated, then pushed through the barrier as if the dome didn't exist, as if he, too, had been Summoned within its confines, only to lumber to his feet and split the night air with his roar.
There was pain there, and fear, and need. Tranorva felt them all. But mostly she felt annoyed. "Sit down," she admonished. "Surely all that racket is unnecessary. Whatever the two of ye have to settle, there is no reason to frighten the girl. Behave thyself, Father."
Chapter Three
Evalayna nearly dropped the small bundle as she stumbled to her feet. "No," she whispered, her voice hoarse with denial. "No. Ye can no' be here. Ye are dead. I know ye are dead. I am dreaming again."
Tranorva snatched the pile of wet silk from her mother, endeavoring to set the child on her feet as she pulled the ruined bedspread away from her skin, wishing she had somewhere to put it to dry. "Hold this!" she hissed at Élandine's animated form, blanching in distaste as he did precisely as she ordered.
"Wonderful," she observed. "My lover is reduced to a drying rack for wet bedclothes."
The grizzly sat on his splayed haunches well back from the fire, his liquid brown eyes fixed on Evalayna. Tranorva could have sworn there were tears in his eyes. His voice broke in soft snuffling sounds, almost as if he were speaking. She found if she listened with her heart instead of her mind she could understand him.
"My heart. My mate. You call me now?"
By the gods, she did not want to think of her mother, the feared Shaman Lady Evalayna Lochinvar, as some bear's mate, nor some man's lover! Especially not now, with her own lover's arms draped in a ridiculous tattered silk coverlet, steam rising off of its wet folds.
"All lost. All gone. So many days. So many years. So alone."
Tranorva flushed hotly, feeling suddenly like a voyeur, eavesdropping on something very personal. She turned away, both to care for the child and to allow the lost lovers some small degree of privacy.
Evalayna shut her eyes tightly, but when she opened them again, he was still there. "I thought I was losing my mind, imagining I heard your voice in every call that echoed across the tundra." She crossed slowly to the ancient grizzly, trying to see beyond the gray in his fur, beyond the dull, matted coat, to find the man she had once loved. Behind her the little honey-brown bondswoman who was neither Elf nor Élandra shrieked in terror. Evalayna heard her daughter's voice, uncharacteristically soothing, calming the girl, and then all else was gone. Her world narrowed to the shaggy coat, the lean build, the deep musk that was all grizzly, newly awakened from his winter's den.
'Twas not the first winter he'd spent buried in the earth.
Her hand trembled as she touched her fingers to the talisman she wore about her neck. "Roahr...I hardly dare to believe my eyes. How can this be?"
He did not reach out to her as she approached. If anything he shrank farther back into himself, making no move to touch her, either for ha
rm or for comfort. Evalayna lifted a hand slowly to his muzzle, grayed now with advancing years, to wipe the dampness from the fur around those deep pools of suffering. "Roahr."
"Lost. Years lost. So alone."
"I'm here now, my heart. Ye need not be alone any more. Come back to me."
"Lost..."
"I have missed ye as I would miss the air itself, Roahr."
He snuffed her once with his broad damp nose, breathing in the scent of her hair. "To be small. To be naked. To be afraid. I cannot. I do not remember the way."
Evalayna wrapped her arms around the shaggy head, stroking through his grizzled fur, trying to reach him with touch where her words failed. "I need ye, Roahr. Our daughter needs ye. Our way is perilous. Do no' leave me to make my way alone once again. Come back to me."
A heart-wrenching cry of grief split the night air as he lumbered to his feet. "Too late! Too late..."
The barrier of the dome might as well not have existed as he spun off into the night. He disappeared into the swirling snow in seconds, invisible as the night, but she could still hear his voice split the arctic air. "Mine! Forever and always. Mine!"
* * * * *
"I hate winter," Yarwyn snarled.
"I know, my love." It seemed a bad time to remind her that spring was almost spent, and this uncharacteristic snow squall would soon pass.
"I hate cold."
Seanen tried to suppress the laughter that pulled at the corners of his eyes. "Let me warm you, my heart."
"I hate tromping through snow."
It was useless. Seanen knew she could feel the laughter bubbling up inside him as he watched his tiny Elf attempt to match his stride through the drifts. She was far too stubborn to simply travel in his wake, allowing him to break trail. He let the laughter loose as he scooped her up into his arms and settled her onto his shoulder.
"Put me down you big ox. I can run on my own two feet."
"I rather like the feel of you there, your lovely curves so close to my teeth." As if to prove his words he bit gently into the curve of her hip as he doubled his speed. "Would that you had the gift of your mother's people. You surely share their affinity for long naps in the hot sun."
Way of The WOlf: The Northlanders Book I Page 26
