Lonely Moon (The Wolf's Bane Saga Book 2)

by M. Katherine Clark

“Maelogan, Faolán, among others. You may choose one person to accompany you. Who will it be?” Marrock replied.

  “My father, naturally,” Weylyn answered.

  “What skills could an old wolf give a scouting party?” Marrock scoffed.

  Weylyn bit back his growl and raised his head. “I will have nae other by my side,” he said.

  “Verra well,” Marrock replied. “You leave at first light. Tell your father of your choice.”

  “Sire,” Weylyn bowed as Marrock stalked away.

  Weylyn tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a shudder that raced up his spine as he watched Marrock walk away.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  The scouting group stopped at a small alcove between two mountains. A shimmering loch lay before them, so peaceful. The gentle slope of their location granted them a view of the surrounding area. As their feet sank into sand, they each took turns drinking from the peaty-sweet water. Kinnon walked over to his son as Weylyn kept watch behind them.

  “They are asking for you to go ahead of us and see what you can,” Kinnon said.

  “Of course,” Weylyn answered. “I will leave soon.”

  “Be careful,” Kinnon stressed. “I donnae like what Marrock has asked us to do.”

  “I will be fine, Father,” Weylyn smiled.

  “I ken you are grown, Weylyn but I am and always will be your father,” Kinnon said. “I love you.”

  “Aye, I ken,” he replied and winked. “I will be fine. Donnae worry.”

  “I am your father, I will always worry about you,” he answered.

  ***

  Weylyn ran ahead ten leagues in front of the rest of the group. When the tree line of the forest was visible, he slowed and sent a message to his father, who was also phased, telling him what he saw and heard; human voices and laughter. Once his message was delivered, he phased into his full human form and inched his way to the edge of the woods, his eyes were the yellow of his wolf to help him see in the darkness. His nose caught a scent and his ears pricked up when the voices grew louder and more distinctive.

  Females, humans.

  Slowly he crept closer, crouching at the entrance of the forest; he watched a group of Highland females gathering heather on the hill. Easing forward, he closed his eyes when his foot stepped on a dried branch and the twig snapped. One of the young females turned towards the sound and he ducked into the shadows.

  ***

  “Brietta? What is it?” her sister, Gwen asked.

  “Nothing,” Brietta called back. “I thought I heard something. I will be right back.” She walked cautiously towards the entrance and immediately saw a man crouching low into the shadows staring at her. The odd thing about this man was not that he was hiding but that he had strange eyes. Almost yellow, but then they were gone. “Hello?” she called. The man appeared again but this time he rose to his full height and the sun shown on his dark brown hair. He took her breath away.

  Half of his hair was pulled back away from his face, which was covered in dark brown stubble. He was tall, the tallest man she had ever seen as she barely came to the base of his neck. His skin was tanned like her chief’s warriors since they trained outside without their tunics. But, his eyes were a deep mesmerizing brown and there was something about them that made her want to hear him speak.

  “Hello,” she said again. “I am Brietta,” she introduced herself. “It means strength… What is your name?”

  “Weylyn,” he whispered.

  “Weylyn,” she said the name and something made him tense. Her eyes drew together when she saw his suppressed shudder. “That means wolf’s son,” she said. His eyes grew wide for a moment, then he looked away. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I… I am… ehm… just passing through,” he said.

  “Welcome to Farquharson land,” she replied. “We have a small village at the base of the mountain. All are welcome in the Highlands. If you are in need of food or drink or some shelter for the night. We donnae ask for anything in return.”

  “I thank you,” he whispered. He spoke low and slowly almost as if he was unfamiliar with the Highlanders’ language.

  “Brietta,” her sister called to her. “We are leaving.”

  “Coming, Gwen,” she called back but did not take her eyes off Weylyn. “I should go… It was nice to meet you, Weylyn. And donnae forget what I offered. We stand on nae ceremony, only Highland Hospitality.”

  He nodded but did not say anything more. Smiling at him, she curtsied and followed the rest of the females of her clan. Before she started down the mountain, she stopped and turned back to the mysterious man. Taking a sprig of heather from her basket, she hurried back to him and offered it to him. He reached for it slowly but when their fingers briefly touched, a spark passed between them.

  Brietta smiled once more at him and hurried to catch up with her clan’s females.

  ***

  Weylyn stood absolutely motionless watching her retreating figure until she disappeared from view. Never in his life had he experienced the sort of feeling raging through him. He was not certain what the feeling was or what it meant but he wanted to feel it again and often.

  Unsure how long he stood there after the females left, Weylyn sensed his pack close behind. As the smell of the humans’ dinner roasting over their turf fires snaked its way up to his nose, his father’s voice came from behind him.

  “Weylyn?” Turning, he hid the sprig of heather behind his back. Kinnon watched his son closely. “Is everything all right, lad?”

  Weylyn nodded. “I am sorry, the humans have left but I wanted to make sure all was well,” he said.

  “Let us make camp then,” Kinnon said still watching his son. As the group began making camp just inside the woods, Weylyn discreetly tucked the heather sprig into the pouch that hung around his neck. That evening, Faolán hunted and they roasted the meat over a peat fire. As the males exchanged stories, all Weylyn could think of was when he could possibly see that beautiful human with the shinning blue eyes again.

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  Marrock stalked back towards the keep as he had just finished a patrol with the sentry on duty. Something at the edge of their land had worried the young guard and as much as Marrock hated having his time with Tiana interrupted for something so trivial as a human fire and the beginnings of a village, Marrock was glad to have been informed. The humans were becoming bold, encroaching on his lands little by little. Perhaps it was time to rekindle the legend of the yellow-eyed demon nearby.

  The new village, which had been dubbed Aberdeen, made Marrock scoff. The human Highlanders did not know their own language. From his brief introduction to Gaelic from Kinnon, Deen or Don, as some pronounced it, was the river that ran through their lands and aber in their language meant mouth. So, Aberdeen was at the mouth of the river Deen and also literally meant the same thing. Humans had no creativity. They even dubbed their pack as Aberlyall, which meant wolves at the mouth.

  With his pressing need to return to Tiana so she could finish what he was paying her for, he picked up his pace and passed through the village, reveling in his pack members bowing to him.

  But, when he passed two females, he paused. It was the same dark haired beauty who had convinced him to live nearly two years ago. He had not forgotten her and even when Tiana’s lips were hungry on his, he could only think of Heledd. He turned back to her and both females, Heledd and her mother, curtsied to him again.

  “Rise,” he ordered. They both did. “You, lass, Heledd,” he said. “Lift your gaze.” Strangely, it surprised him that he did not order her. When her dark brown eyes met his, he spoke again. “I never properly thanked you for what you did by stopping me from joining my mate.”

  “Oh, ‘twas nothing sire, I could nae see you so consumed with grief that you would make a mistake. You are a warrior, you deserve the honor of a good death, no’ one of a coward, nae matter how grief stricken you are.”

  He heard her m
other’s sharp intake of breath. They had seen, on more than one occasion, when his guards had spoken to him like that, he usually backhanded them. However, as he listened to her words, something softened ever so slightly within him. It was as if the shadow of Mabh was within her.

  “Indeed,” he said. “And I thank you for making me realize that. I desire to thank you, properly. Come to dinner with me tonight, you and your family.”

  She blinked in surprise as a wide grin crossed her lips. Gods she was beautiful and he ached to have her. Not as a mate, but to satisfy his need for someone he did not have to share with any lonely wolf as he did with Tiana. Heledd was an innocent and he missed that.

  “That would be an honor, sire,” she said.

  “Good, then I shall see you both at gloaming,” he replied then turned and left them as they curtsied once more.

  ***

  Everyone was asleep, it was his turn to keep watch, but all Weylyn could think of was that human female with big, beautiful blue eyes. He wanted to see her again but that was impossible, she was human and Marrock hunted humans for sport. The edict had been passed down after Mabh’s death; no one was to speak to a human unless under the direst circumstances and never reveal what you are to a human. No wolf was to ever feel what he was feeling for a human, he was a wolf, she was not, and they could not be mates.

  So far, in all of Weylyn’s seventy-five years, he had never gone against Marrock’s proclamation. But, there was something about that young female that made him want to go against everything Marrock had decreed and find out more about her.

  The urge to slip away, catch her scent and see her again was strong but as his eyes skated over to his father lying on the ground asleep, his red hair had grey streaks and the thought of his father ageing twisted Weylyn’s heart. He wanted to give his father and mother the joy of a grandpup while they still had the strength to enjoy one.

  Unbidden that human female’s face crossed his mind as he thought of a child but that could never happen. There had never been a union between a human and a wolf, surely the pains of bringing a wolf pup into the world would be too much for a human lass. And, there was always the question of what sort of pup it would be.

  Shaking his head, he stopped his thoughts. Even if he could mate with a human, he would live over a hundred years longer than she and her passing at the human age of seventy or even more would not be more than a mere blink in the life of a wolf.

  Shaking his head, he turned to his father again. Even being just over one hundred and sixty years, Kinnon still looked young, that was the curse of the wolf. They did not age as humans. But still… Weylyn twisted some straw in his hand and threw it into the remains of the fire.

  Faolán would be awake in a short time and he would take over the watch. Weylyn’s foot tapped nervously on the ground as he sat uncomfortably on a log. He needed a walk. Rising silently, he snuck away from the fire and made it halfway down the mountain when he heard footsteps behind him. Half-phasing, he spun around ready to pounce. Faolán raised his hands in surrender.

  “What are you doing?” Weylyn demanded, his voice low as he phased back to his human form.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Faolán replied. “Sneaking off after the witching hour, leaving us without a watchman.”

  “I heard something,” he lied.

  “I ken you are lying, Weylyn, what is truly on your mind?” He asked.

  “Please, take over the watch. I must do something,” Weylyn begged.

  “Is it to do with the lass we sensed you had met?”

  “Please,” Weylyn replied.

  “You toy with danger, my friend,” Faolán said.

  “I ken, but I must do this,” he answered.

  “Aye, go, I will make your excuses. But be back before the sun breaks the trees,” he said.

  “I will,” he promised as he turned and hurried down the mountain.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  “That was a wonderful supper, Alpha,” Heledd said seated beside Marrock at the head of the table. Her mother sat opposite her and her father sat at the other end of the small table.

  “I am pleased you enjoyed it,” Marrock replied. “If you would allow me,” he offered to take her plate to serve her a piece of the dessert he had asked to be prepared. “This is my favorite sweet cake.”

  “Oh, then please allow me, sire,” Heledd offered and stood taking his plate to the side table to serve him a piece of dessert. He froze in his chair; no female had served him since Mabh. It was a mate’s duty but Mabh had always called it a pleasure.

  “Heledd, love,” her mother began. “Have you and Faolán spoken more about when you will mate?”

  Heledd blushed but smiled as she sat. Marrock’s eyes twitched.

  “No’ quite,” she answered. “But there is time.”

  “Faolán?” Marrock questioned, his eyes searching Heledd. “My lieutenant? Do you have some sort of understanding with him?”

  “We are betrothed,” Heledd smiled. “Only waiting until I reach the age of consent.”

  “And when will that be?” he demanded.

  “In a fortnight’s time, sire,” she answered. “We are to mate at the end of the moon cycle.”

  Marrock’s jaw clenched. Faolán could not have her, he wanted her. He needed to show her the joys a wolf, who had been mated, could give her. Faolán was a lad compared to him. “I see…” he paused. “Are you musical, Heledd?” He changed the subject.

  “Aye, sire, some say I am blessed with a singing voice,” she answered.

  “Will you sing for me?” he asked.

  “If you wish it,” she replied.

  “I do,” he stated. “Come with me, now. Excuse us,” he said to her parents. He took Heledd’s hand, and without waiting for her parents to answer, hauled Heledd to her feet and walked out the door. He desperately needed to be alone with her and as he escorted her to the music room within the keep, he ignored his mate’s lap harp still sitting on her chair.

  Heledd’s face was flushed when he turned and his body immediately reacted to the sight. Dear gods, she was beautiful. He could not resist. Pulling her to him, he spoke low.

  “I ken you said you were Faolán’s, but you would nae deny your Alpha a kiss, would you?” he whispered close to her lips. She swallowed and blushed even deeper.

  “If my Alpha wishes, I will nae tell him nay,” she said. That was all he needed.

  Gods her lips were wondrous, tentative in their movements, and sweet in their taste. He never wanted to stop kissing her. Pulling her deeper into him, his hands roamed her back, pressing her hips to his with one hand and burying his other into her hair. Her lips were soft and innocent, that was the type of kiss he missed; Mabh’s sweet, gentle, loving kiss, not Tiana’s lustful one. She had to be his. He needed her. He wanted her more than he had wanted anyone for a long time. She could not mate with Faolán she was to be his. Feeling her hands on his chest and the slight bit of resistance she gave, he knew he should pull back but he could not. Finally, when he would not be able to control himself any longer and for fear of taking her as his right then, he wrenched his mouth from hers. Her eyes were glassy with desire and he enjoyed the feeling of her hands clenching the fabric of his tunic, tightening the linen across his arms almost uncomfortably.

  “Dear gods, lass, you taste so sweet,” he murmured kissing her lightly once more. “Never have I had something as fine as your taste. You have me undone.”

  She pressed her lips together looked down away from the pools of desire staring down at her.

  “Did you enjoy that as much as I did?” he asked.

  She looked away from him but spoke softly.

  “You must understand, sire, that I am innocent of the ways of males,” she replied.

  “Aye but no’ ignorant, surely,” he answered. “Your mother must have spoken to you about it and of course the gossip of other females.”

  “Aye ‘tis true,” she replied.

  “Th
en tell me, lass, did you enjoy that as much as I did?” he asked again.

  “I will confess that I did enjoy kissing you, Alpha,” she replied. “But Faolán is my mate.”

  “Aye so you have said,” he pulled away from her. “But you did admit to enjoyment.”

  “Kissing is always enjoyable,” she replied. He suppressed a growl, he did not want to think of Faolán kissing her.

  “Well, now,” he went on and took a step back. “Sing for me.”

  “What would you have me sing, sire?” she asked watching as he crossed his arms over his massive chest. Her eyes wandered the length of him in innocent curiosity. Faolán had kissed her before but it was always a soft, sweet kiss that made her love him even more. Marrock’s kiss was urgent, unrelenting, passionate, and gave her chills and fairly odd sensations she had not felt before but was not sure she liked.

  “Whatever you wish,” he replied.

  Thinking a moment, seeing his black hair, the first words of an ancient song came to her. Taking a deep breath, she began to sing.

  “My lover’s hair’s as black as night,

  His eyes are darker still.

  His hands upon me fierce and tender

  Upon the hearth doth still

  For on the hearth his lover’s eyes weaken into death.

  The reaper has come and carries aloft

  My lover’s heart and breath.

  Before him lies, the one he denies

  The one who loves him still,

  But, my lover’s eyes sees no’ the lies told beneath the sill.

  For if my lover

  Kenned the lies as told beneath the sill,

  His lover’s eyes would ne’er arise

  Upon me soft and still.

  His lover’s eyes would turn surprise upon the other’s will.

  And as they fought,

  My heart would rot upon my lover’s ill,

  And death upon my lover’s eyes would cause my heart to still.

  For both men fought and one will die,

  Upon my lover’s kill.