To Tame a Wolf

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To Tame a Wolf Page 13

by Wendy Stone

Wulf grabbed her hands, holding her slim wrists in one of his. He pushed her away, getting up to follow her as he forced her down in her rocking chair. He picked up her clothing and gave it back to her.

  "Get dressed. The only woman who would have had my son is dead. She has my heart and my soul. Now, they are both as dead as she is. I thank you for your food and for the shelter for my horse, but I will leave now. I was mistaken to run away from my people. They will need me even more now.” He turned and laced his pants. Even as he heard the first sobs, he refused to look at her again.

  Hermes welcomed him with a low whinny and a push of his big head. “Yes, I know, boy. We'll go home now. We need to find her body so that I can give it a decent burial, some place for us to go to mourn her.” He saddled the horse quickly, then led him out of the small barn. Closing the doors behind them, he urged Hermes into a trot, heading back to the smoking ruins of the manor and Rose's body.

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  Chapter Eleven

  Hermes seemed to know the way. This was good, for Wulf's mind focused not on his riding, but on the picture in his head. Rose and the look in her eyes when she'd told him she loved him. He couldn't stop thinking about her; he couldn't get her face out of his head. Tears streaked down his cheeks unnoticed and the road in front of him blurred.

  The walls of Red Thorn emerged from that blurry distance. He could barely see the still-smoldering ruins of the old manor. Plumes of smoke blocked out the clear night sky. Wulf felt the horror of that night again. The knowledge that his one and only true love had died, coughing and hacking in the billowing smoke, captive of his crazed half-brother.

  He choked back a sob, her name on his lips. “Rose, I'm so sorry."

  Hermes flicked his ears back as if listening to his words. He whinnied, as if in answer, as if to say he missed her too.

  Wulf patted his arched neck. A long sigh escaped his lips and he kicked Hermes into a trot. Riding through town, he thought of stopping at his mother's cottage, then dismissed the thought. He wasn't ready to face anyone. He turned Hermes down the wide road to the castle proper.

  The gates to the bailey were open wide, the smoldering ruins clearly visible. He jumped down from Hermes’ back, throwing his reins over a post. He ducked under Hermes’ head, walking slowly toward the rubble. He entered the debris.

  The ashes were still almost impossibly hot. He could not linger, but stepped back, his cheeks reddened and his boots smoldering. Letting his face cool in the night air, he resolved to try once more, determined to find his lady love and give her a proper service and burial. Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily, reaching into his jerkin and pulling out a soft piece of cloth.

  He dunked the cloth into a bucket of water left from the brigade he'd started earlier, when he'd still hoped Rose had survived. A humorless chuckle passed his lips as he stared at the wreckage. The arch of the doorway, sans wooden panel, hung precariously in the air and he passed through it, walking cautiously through the remains. He used the wet cloth to cool the heat of the fire against his skin. “Rose,” he called, hoping against hope that she could possibly be alive.

  But until he found her body, how could he give up?

  "Rose!” he called louder, then once again, walking toward what was left of the stairway that to the second floor and the master's bedchambers. “Rose!"

  He couldn't stop calling her name, even as the smoke made him cough and every failed attempt sent more tears streaming down his face. Clean lines were left on his cheeks in their wake, his eyes wild as he peered into the burned husk of the manor house.

  The staircase creaked, then shuddered, tipping precariously. He knew he was going to fall before it happened and he threw himself toward the second floor of the manor, shouting his mantra loud into the night air.

  He grabbed the top stair, pulling himself up and onto the creaky floor. The center of the hallway seemed to be disintegrating under his feet and he quickly stepped backward, against the wall where the floor seemed a bit more stable.

  "Rose!” he shouted again and again, carefully making his way towards the yawning doorway of the Master's chambers. “Rose!” Then he heard it, the sound he'd been dreaming of hearing.

  "Wulf!"

  * * * *

  Rose stirred, a sound waking her from her restless sleep. Every part of her body ached with Wulf's loss and she found it hard to care about much, if anything. Consciousness brought back awareness and a sob shook her shoulders. She welcomed the tears, letting them spill unheeded from her eyes. “God, Wulf. I miss you so."

  She heard Lucy rise from the pile of hay where she'd been resting and felt the younger girl pull her into an embrace meant to comfort. “I'm so sorry, Rose.” .

  Rose nodded, though her sobs continued, wracking her body until she thought she would be sick with the grief of his loss. She thought of the bards her mother had read to her as a child and their platitudes of love and loss. She now understood some of the lines her mother hadn't tried to explain. “Wulf!” she cried.

  With shaking fingers, she pushed Lucy away, lifting her hands to her thick, dark hair. Finger combing the mass into three manageable hunks, she braided it quickly and then lifted the knife they'd found earlier. She loped off the long tail.

  "What are you doing?” Lucy cried, putting out a hand to stop her. “Your hair?"

  "I want to find him, Lucy. I want to find Wulf's body and make sure he's given a proper burial, one to his status.” She lifted the fat braid, “He will hold this in his hands for eternity."

  "It was so beautiful."

  "If I cannot have Wulf's eyes upon me, what point is its beauty? I will remain unmarried.” She sobbed, tucking the braid into the pocket of her gown. “If Geoffrey remains alive, I will kill him."

  "You speak blasphemy. Threatening the lord's life is treason.” Lucy tried to sound mature but Rose was beyond being comforted.

  "I care not. Geoffrey stole the only person I've ever loved. He is no lord to me.” She took the hem of her skirt and wiped her face with it. Pushing away from the young girl, she pushed open the stall door and went outside, heading for the ruins of the manor. Her hands went to her hair, tugging on the now short curls. “Wulf!"

  For a moment, all was silent but the crackle and hiss of the embers in the manor. Then a loud creaking broke the quiet. Seconds later, she heard her name called in a hoarse voice and her heart leapt in her chest.

  "Wulf?” she called again, holding her breath as she waited for an answer.

  "He's gone, Rose."

  "No! He's not. I heard him call me.” She shook her head emphatically, pulling away from Lucy's soothing hands.

  "Wulf!"

  "Rose!"

  Her eyes went wide. “Tell me you heard that, tell me it isn't a dream,” Rose urged, her hand fisting in the sleeve of Lucy's gown.

  "I heard that.” Lucy stared at the smoldering shell. “He's in there."

  Rose was already halfway across the empty courtyard, ready to tear through whatever stood between her and the only man she would ever love. “Wulf!"

  Her eyes met his as he leapt down the tilting staircase, his feet barely touching the ruined risers. She saw his eyes widen with wonder as they found her. Then he was in front of her, his hands encircling her waist, lifting her easily and twirling her around.

  "Tell me I'm not dreaming,” he said huskily, setting her on her feet. “Tell me you're really here."

  Before she had the chance to say anything, his lips were on hers. He kissed her, holding her tightly against his chest, unable to stop.

  Rose's hands caressed his face, fingers skimming over his skin as if she wanted to memorize him with her touch. “I'm here,” she whispered against his lips. “You're here.” The last words were spoken in awe. “I thought you dead."

  "I thought you were dead,” he whispered against her skin, his lips touching her face over and over. “Your father said you were in the master's chambers, with Geoffrey."

  "No...no, Lucy saved me.” Her h
ands framed his face. She leaned just far enough back to see his eyes. “She showed me a hidden passageway that got us out of the manor house.” It was her turn to wonder. “Geoffrey had locked you in the great hall. I saw you there."

  "Your father got me out.” He ducked his head a bit, as if ashamed. “I'd wished he hadn't, when I thought you dead Rose. Not even the flames could have been worse than losing you."

  Rose smiled, her hands lifting his face to see his eyes again. “But you're alive and so am I."

  "You are,” he breathed, his lips finding hers again.

  Wulf bent and lifted her in his arms, holding her high on his chest. His mouth never left hers. His tongue explored the satiny texture behind her lips.

  Her hands curled in his hair, holding him close.

  His rose to her hair and his body went still as he felt the shorn tresses. “Your hair? What happened?"

  Reaching into the pocket of her dress, she pulled the braid out and handed it to Wulf. “I-I thought you were dead."

  He took it, running the smooth satiny hair through his fingers. He touched the ends before he kissed her softly on the top of her head. “I'll treasure this."

  "Oh my. Lord Wulf?"

  He raised his head. A young girl stood before them, hands twisting in front of her. “Lucy?” he asked, waiting to see the shake of Rose's head. When she did, Wulf took the few steps separating them, dropping to his knees. “You saved my life when you saved Rose,” he said, taking her hands in his. Dropping a kiss upon the back of one, he rose slowly. “I owe you much. You've but to ask, Lucy. I will do whatever it takes to get you whatever you want."

  Lucy looked confused and a little awestruck as her eyes moved from Wulf to Rose. “I didn't do it for reward,” she said slowly, her voice so low it was difficult to hear.

  "Which only makes giving you one much more enjoyable,” Wulf said. He held his hand out behind him, drawing Rose back into his arms. “I love her more than my own life."

  Lucy smiled at the two. “Anything?"

  "If it is within my power,” Wulf added.

  "Then I would stay here with you and Rose.” Lucy stared at Rose hopefully. “That is, if you would have me."

  Rose glanced at Wulf, then nodded at the girl. “How could I say no?"

  "Then don't,” Wulf added. “She'll live here with us and my mother. But it won't be easy at first. We will need to rebuild the manor. Until we do, we will have to stay in the crofter's hut."

  "I can help,” Lucy offered immediately. “I want to help."

  Wulf chuckled. “We will have to check your mettle,” he teased. “Maybe she can haul stone from the quarry?"

  "If that is what you need,” Lucy said determinedly. She glared at the couple as they burst out laughing.

  Wulf held his arm out, offering it to Lucy. “That's all well and good for now, young one, but we should seek beds for the night. It's been a long day."

  Lucy took his arm, her cheeks growing pink as she walked beside the couple. Her eyes went wide as she heard Rose squeal in excitement. A loud whinny sounded from the horse in front of them.

  "Hermes!” Rose gave Wulf another quick hug before she hurried to the big horse. She heard Lucy call her name nervously and Wulf's soothing answer before she reached the big stallion, smiling up at him as he nipped at her gown. He nudged her, his nostrils twitching as he sniffed at her. “Oh, he wants a treat."

  She patted his head, finding the spot that he loved to have scratched. “Later,” she whispered as Lucy and Wulf finally reached them. “Settle down, Hermes."

  The horse, smelling the stranger amongst them, pranced in place, his feet coming off the ground as if he would buck. Rose grabbed his bridle, pulling down and scolding him softly. “She's a friend, now. You behave and don't scare her."

  Hermes turned, sniffing at Lucy. The little girl stood as still as one of the statues in the garden.

  "He won't hurt you, Lucy.” Rose reached out, taking Lucy's hand and placing it on Hermes muzzle. “Let him get your scent and he'll be gentle as a lamb."

  Wulf laughed. “Big damn lamb,” he teased, pushing Hermes head away when he turned to Wulf's voice. “Behave,” he warned the horse. Then he lifted Lucy onto Hermes's back, making sure she was comfortable. He untied the horse and they started toward the village.

  "You're going to have me wondering if you're more excited to see Hermes or me,” he said softly to Rose, wrapping his arm around her again.

  Her eyes gleamed as she put a thumb on her chin, staring thoughtfully between her two males. “Hmm, now that I'm going to have to think about."

  Wulf turned her face toward his, nipping at her thumb before he kissed her hard.

  "Mmm,” she moaned. “You. Definitely you."

  "Good answer.” He kissed her once more before wrapping his arm around her again. He'd draped the reins over Hermes neck and the horse followed along behind them like the most devoted of dogs. Lucy, lulled by the steady gait, soon slumbered against the horse's wide shoulders.

  The cottage was dark. Snoring came from one of the back rooms. Wulf got Lucy settled in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket from his mother's favorite chair. He went to the small trap door on the floor and pulled it open. He lit a candle and held it high, carrying it easily down the rough ladder and positioning it so Rose would have no trouble seeing as she made her own way down.

  At the base of the ladder, she turned, smiling up at him. “It feels like forever since we were here before.” Her hand rose, touching the whiskered roughness of his cheek. “I thought my life was over but some miracle saved you. I think my life is meant to be spent with you."

  "Fate,” he whispered, bending and gently finding her lips. “Destiny has declared us a couple. Who are we to discard its edicts?"

  Rose breathed in his smoky scent, her thumb rubbing over a smudge of soot left from the fire. “I wouldn't dare argue. I love you so much, Wulf."

  His green eyes seemed to glow in the light of the candle, shutting just as his lips took hers again. Her warm mouth clung to his, her tongue searching out his to tease and rub. A soft moan escaped from her, the desire within her stirring to life. It seemed a miracle that she could feel it once again, that it hadn't been torn from her grasp by his death. She welcomed it, her hands touching his hair, holding him close.

  His moan echoed loud in the earthen rooms under the village. She smiled at the sound as his hands pulled her even closer, his mouth twisting on hers. Her body pressed to his, her hips moving with an urgency based on what she had thought lost forever.

  "I love you, Wulf,” she moaned against his mouth. “Make love with me."

  His hand was hampered by the candle he still held and he pulled away, handing it to her. Then he swept her easily into his arms, striding impatiently down the long hallway to his room. He set her down gently, lighting the two tapers within from the candle. By the time he was ready to face her, she'd stripped off her gown, standing before him in nothing more than the chemise.

  "You're beautiful,” he said, the awe in his voice bringing a rosy blush to her cheek.

  "You're biased,” she said, holding out her hand. “Your eyes are colored by the love you feel for me. If not for that, you'd find my poor shape lumpy and distasteful."

  "Lumpy?” he said with a laugh, moving close to rub his hand over the curve of her breasts. “I think curvaceous would be a better word.” He thumbed her nipples, which had risen at his caress. “Of course, these might be considered little lumps.” He caught each tip between his fingers, twisting them gently and smiling at her soft moan. “But nothing I see would ever be thought of as distasteful."

  "What of the day when I grow fat with your child?"

  One of his large hands slid down her flat stomach, teasing the sensitive skin below her navel.

  "Then I shall have more of you to love.” He dropped his head, kissing her with a tenderness that seemed like a miracle to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, rising onto the tips of her toes.

&nbs
p; She pulled away only seconds later, tearing herself from his arms and holding up her hand to stop him from drawing her back. “But...what of this child?” she whispered nervously, her eyes on his face to gauge his response.

  "You're with child?” His voice was soft but a smile bloomed upon his face, spreading from ear to ear.

  "So you tried to claim, these past few days. And you have convinced me. Call it a woman's intuition, but I believe it."

  "T-the fire didn't...” he stuttered, his hand sliding across her slender belly.

  "No. We're fine.” She held out her hands, waiting for him to take her in his arms. When he hesitated, she stared at him in question.

  "I don't want to hurt you, or the baby."

  Rose laughed. “Don't be foolish. The baby, if there is one, is perfectly protected inside me."

  His hand touched her stomach with gentle care and she could see the hope in his eyes. “Make love with me,” she said again, tugging his hand up her body until it cupped her breast. “I need you."

  He groaned, unable to resist her passionate request. “You have me.” He sank down next to her, pulling her into his arms. His hands were incredibly gentle, pulling off the straps of her shift and exposing the curves of her breasts. His head dipped and he kissed the hardness of her nipple with his tongue, circling the pink bud.

  He smiled at her groan, rubbing his head into her hands as her fingers stole through his hair. She arched her back, pressing him to her and he suckled a bit harder, loving how she reacted to his touch.

  "Wulf,” she groaned. “Love me."

  "I do,” he whispered, loud enough for her to hear. “I love you, Rose."

  He toyed with her nipples, his mouth moving from one to the next, his tongue flicking over them. Her body moved under him, pushing into his. He tugged her shift lower, groaning as it caught on the curve of her hips, frustrating him. Pulling harder, he heard the fabric rip and he swept it off her legs. She lay beneath him, her legs parted, exposing the soft, wet pink of her pussy.

  "Ahh,” he groaned, his finger sliding over the slick flesh. He pushed inside her, her pussy clinging to him, welcoming him. “Come for me,” he hissed, fucking her with one, then two fingers. She gasped, her hips moving in time to his thrusts, her hands grasping at him.

 

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