by The Maiden
The Maiden and the Werewolf
Taylor Manning
© copyright June 2004, Kathryn Overton & Betty Kasischke
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright June 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
Chapter One
Kira flicked her eyes from side to side, gauging the moments left in her life. Her breath puffed quick white clouds into the icy air as spasms of fear shot through her. Her gaze froze on the wolf in front of her--a huge beast black as midnight with gleaming amber eyes. He snarled, revealing long white fangs. A growl rumbled from his chest.
I must not run.
Movement caught her eye. More danger appeared on both sides.
Two more wolves, one on each side, slinked into the moonlit glade from the shadows of snow-boughed firs. Her heart pounded faster.
Her gaze snapped back as the leader stepped nearer, his keen eyes locking onto hers--a mesmerizing gleam, holding her, paralyzing her. She could not look away.
Suddenly she sensed this was no bestial countenance facing her. There was more than animal intelligence in those amber eyes.
The eyes appeared ... human.
Her knees buckled briefly as a spasm of horror shot through her.
A movement forced her to break the bizarre connection to the wolf approaching from the front. The creature to her left was coming closer, head lowered, teeth bared. The wolf on her right copied the action.
She sent up a prayer to the Spirit of All Things. And began to mourn, not for herself, but for Amma, who would be alone now, with no one to care for her.
If only I’d waited until dawn.
But Kira knew self-recrimination was useless. Her grandmother desperately needed the medicine she carried in her apron beneath her cloak. Delay had been impossible, so she had pushed aside her fear of the forest at night and gone out because she’d had to. Amma must not die.
But now, Amma would die. And she would die alone, back in the cottage, without Kira’s presence to give her what comfort she could.
Unless she could run. Perhaps she could escape.
Her gaze flicked from one side to the other, then back to the leader. He moved slowly forward, step by step, as though he didn’t want her to bolt. His amber eyes caught hers again, and this time she thought she saw a question in them.
Then she heard words in her head.
"Your time has come."
Shock made her shake the sound of a man’s voice from her head.
At her movement the wolf in front leapt forward, halving the distance to where she stood. High into the air he arced, exposing his long underbelly, and within its darkness, a florid erection.
The sight of the glistening carmine shaft shot a shudder through her body. Spirit help her.
Then the voice came again.
"It cannot be denied, my beauty. You have met your fate."
She almost laughed at the madness of it. The horror of what was happening had made her lose her reason. Her breathing quickened. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst. She closed her eyes and prayed to the Spirit for death to come quickly. The next time she would see Amma again would be in the Beyond.
A rustling from behind her made her jerk and her eyes snap open. Another wolf? Truly she was dead now, four times over.
Then an arc of silver flashed over her head, a rumble of thunder following it. A scream formed in her throat, but she was unable to open her mouth to free it.
A massive silver wolf--teeth bared, forelegs rigid, hackles raised--faced the black leader. He growled, the force of the rumble echoing on the night air, and Kira recognized the thunder she’d heard before.
The black leader returned the growl.
"Run."
The word formed in her mind, like before, only this voice was different. Deeper. Stronger.
"I will protect you. Run."
Kira heard the words clearly in her mind, but her body would not respond, her feet frozen by the instinct of all prey.
A twig snapped to her left. She dared a glance to the side only to see the wolf approaching from that side move closer still.
The silver wolf swung his head in that direction and growled a threat. The beast slunk back into the cover of a thicket, its tail between its legs. Then the silver wolf turned a menacing eye to the wolf on her right, a bigger animal who turned immediately and took off at a lope into the forest.
"Run. Now."
The voice again pierced her mind and this time, not knowing why or how she did so, she obeyed, clutching the apron to her breast, protecting the precious cuttings, and fled down the snowy path toward home.
Lungs struggling for air, heart pounding in her breast, legs watery weak, Kira pushed herself.
One more step. I can make one more step.
Chapter Two
Soon one more step had her at her door. She longed to lean against it and rest, but terror pushed her on, into the safety of the cottage.
Kira dropped the heavy oak bar across the door and collapsed against it. Relief robbed her of her remaining strength and she sank onto the packed dirt of the floor. She sat there for what seemed to be a long time before her breathing returned to normal and her mind was again clear of the horror of the glade--and the voices.
The medicine.
She released her apron and let it fall open on her lap, a sigh ringing from her chest when she saw the white berries and green twigs lying safe within the buttery linen folds.
All was well. She had not been killed and devoured by the wolves. She had not lost the precious berries.
She must put the plants into hot water to draw out the medicine within, but first--Amma.
Pushing her still trembling body from the floor, Kira quietly approached the alcove where Amma slept, lifting aside the faded curtain and peering in. Her heart twisted.
Shallow breaths barely moved the thin chest. The once thick snow white tresses now lay lank and yellowed on the pillow, a mere memory of the glorious hair Kira had loved to comb.
Sadness turned to anguish as she took in her grandmother’s face. Blood trickled from Amma’s mouth, a stream of scarlet life escaping a dying body.
The end was near. Kira threw up a prayer of thanksgiving to the Spirit that she had not come back to find her Amma gone. She craved every moment she could wrest from Death. He would not have Amma, not yet.
Tucking the apron into her belt, she got a clean cloth and dampened it, then knelt by the bed and gently cleaned the blood from Amma’s cheek.
"Kira?" The words, barely audible, fell from gray lips.
"I’m here, Amma. You must not try to speak." She took Amma’s hand, only briefly glancing at the blued fingernails. Amma’s lungs were failing her.
Gnarly fingers squeezed, only love making the caress perceptible. Kira squeezed back, careful not to do so too strongly.
"See, Amma?" She held up her apron. "I got more of this for you and I think it will be enough for some days yet. Now you must rest while I fix your posset."
Amma shook her head. "I rest too much. Soon ... I will rest forever. Talk ... to me."
Kira smiled in spite of her breaking heart. What would she do once Amma had passed over to the Beyond? She forced herself to put aside her own pain and try to comply with Amma’s wishes.
"I fear I have no gossip to pass on. No peddlers have come by since the snows began. But I had an interesting afternoon. Shall I tell you about it?"
Amma nodded.
Kira turned from the bed and made her way to the fireplace where a large pot hung. As she went about ladling some of the hot
water into a bowl and adding the berries and twigs to it, she started her tale.
"I saw wolves in the forest today."
"Wolves?"
Kira snapped her head up to look toward Amma. The force of the question shocked her. Amma had not had such strength in many weeks, and her eyes were wide with fear.
"Yes. But they did not hurt me. In fact," she laughed, trying to lighten her frightening tale, "a great silver wolf saved me. He was much larger than the others, with a thundering growl. He was quite handsome, actually."
"The others?"
Again, the strength in Amma’s words.
Kira spooned a draught of the potion into a mug, glancing at her grandmother, growing more and more unsettled by her reactions.
Silly. She’s been cooped up in this cottage for so long, she’s hungry for any news.
As she went back and knelt down beside the bed again, Kira replied, "There were three others that I saw. One was the leader. He approached me." She spooned some of the posset into Amma’s mouth and brought the terrifying image into her mind again, so she could describe it to her grandmother.
"He was completely black. His eyes were the most astonishing amber color and," she paused, wondering how Amma would react, "I got the feeling of human intelligence behind those eyes. I almost felt as though he were asking me something."
Amma suddenly sat up straight, grasping Kira’s hand with astonishing strength. "You must not go into the forest again."
Kira could only stare at her grandmother, whose green eyes, mirrors of her own, beseeched obedience. This change in Amma frightened her almost as much as the wolves had.
"Amma, please. I’m safe. Nothing happened. The silver wolf came to fight and I was able to get away."
Run. Now.
The words of warning echoed in her mind.
"I think the Spirit protected me. I heard a voice telling me to run and I obeyed. The wolves didn’t follow. It must have been the Spirit, don’t you think, Amma?"
Amma’s old eyes held hers for a long moment. "The Spirit often uses us to accomplish His will."
The reply left her unsettled. "What do you mean?"
Another burst of strength seemed to animate Amma and she clutched Kira’s hand tighter. "I have been wrong, my dearest. I thought I was doing best by bringing you here, hiding you away. But soon I will fall asleep and I have done nothing to prepare you. I am so sorry, Kira."
Hit by the grief of the loss to come, Kira could barely speak. "No, no. You have been the most loving grandmother. You’ve taken good care of me."
Amma waved off her words. "I have never told you of your place in the world."
"My place is with you."
"No, my dearest. Your place is beside your mate. I’ve refused to see it for too long. And I must tell you about your dam and sire before it is too late."
Kira smiled. Amma was right, the end would be here soon and she did want to know more about her mother and father. She had always wondered why Amma had not told her much.
"If you feel you can, Amma, I would like to know about my parents."
Amma smiled weakly. "Your mother, my daughter, and your father loved perfectly. So beautiful they were, so perfectly matched." The old eyes caressed Kira’s face in a glance of love. "They made a lovely cub."
Such strange words Amma used: dam, sire, cub.
"The world is full of Light, but it is as full of Darkness. The Spirit has appointed some to fight with the Light." She paused. "And others become servants of the Darkness."
Amma’s sudden change of subject jarred her. Kira nodded uncertainly. "There are evil people and good people. I know this."
Amma nodded. "Yes. But there are things I have not told you. Things you must now know." A coughing fit overtook her. As her body wrenched, blood spattered on the covers before her.
Kira covered Amma’s mouth with a clean cloth, holding it there until the coughing was done. After giving Amma a drink of cool water, she sat down on the edge of the bed and waited. Amma seemed determined to speak her mind, but her eyes had closed and Kira thought she slept.
"Beware the wolves," Amma whispered. "They are not merely wolves. They are men and women who can assume the form, but they remain in their souls, men and women. Some are of the Light, some of the Darkness."
Wolves who are men? Unbidden, the intelligent eyes of the leader in the glade came back to her.
"Your dam, your sire, they were of the Light. They fought against the Darkness and gave their lives to defeat it."
Her own dam ... mother? Her father? What is Amma saying?
She rejected the immediate conclusion. There were no such things as werewolves. Such tales were told to frighten children and old women. Surely Amma didn’t believe--
Amma’s eyes shot open. "Do not reject the truth, Kira. You must be prepared when the time comes to take your place in the Army of Light." Amma’s eyes closed and fluttered, and her breathing fell into a steady pattern.
Of course, Amma was near sleep and dreaming, drawing out a story, much as she had to entertain her as a child. Tales of fantastic beasts, of men who could work magic, of miraculous acts of courage, and of the remarkable power of love. Tales where the Light always defeated the Darkness.
As she tucked the covers around Amma, Kira remembered these tales were for children. There would be no miracle to save Amma, for all the prayers she’d sent up to the Spirit. It was difficult to believe, to hold onto the sure knowledge there was a force larger than herself, when she felt so alone.
Leaving Amma’s bedside, she fell to her knees before the fire and began to grieve for Amma. And for herself.
Chapter Three
Heavy snow fell with the dusk the next day as Kira prepared Amma’s posset. It seemed Amma was stronger today and now she slept, breathing evenly. She’d spent a good deal of time telling Kira about her mother as a child, funny, sweet stories of a young girl of beauty and spirit. And Kira felt more than ever the loss of her mother.
The only irritant was Amma’s insistence on referring to Kira’s mother as her dam and her father as her sire, as though they were beasts, but thankfully Amma said nothing more about wolves.
She was glad for Amma’s strength and it gave her a glimmer of hope Amma might recover. Perhaps the Spirit had heard the prayers she had poured up on Amma’s behalf and taken pity on them both.
She clung to the hope as she stoked the fire, preparing to bank it for the night. And nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock echoed at the door.
Who could be out in such a snowstorm?
She hurried to peer through the peephole, instantly wary.
A tall man stood on the other side, his face hidden by a long scarf. A long cloak hid his form.
She glanced over to where Amma lay sleeping. Before Amma’s warning yesterday, she would never have hesitated to offer hospitality to a traveler caught in such straits. But now, she had an unsettled feeling, not fear exactly, but something watchful, wary.
She raised the bar and pulled the door open a crack.
"Good woman, my mount was taken by wolves and I find myself afoot. Might I find shelter in your abode from the storm?"
Hospitality could never be refused when requested. Though the scarf wrapped tightly around his head muffled his voice, its deep rumble was a living thing, coiling into her mind, leaving her feeling naked to his eyes. Amber eyes.
Prickling fear scratched up her spine. Should she let the man in?
Refusing hospitality was impossible. She opened the door wider and moved aside.
He stomped his feet at the threshold and stepped into the warm cottage, loosening the scarf around his neck.
"Thank you, my lady," he said, taking the heavy bar from her and setting it back into place. He held out his hand for hers and, when she had offered it, bent low over it, his warm breath brushing the back, sending a frisson of heat up her arm. "I am in your debt." His lips, hard, hot, pressed against her skin, possessing her. She jerked away.
The stra
nger straightened. "I am Skarp of Brenberg."
She raised her chin and met his gaze. "I am Kira."
"Are you alone, my lady Kira?" he asked, his voice all innocence, though she sensed something else, something not so innocent behind his words. Something even dishonest and dangerous.
"No. My grandmother lies yonder." She realized immediately how ridiculous that sounded. Amma would be no protection from a man who wanted to do her harm.
Desperate to regain the upper hand with this troubling stranger, she quickly added, "I have some stew prepared if you are hungry. It is not much, but you are welcome."
He smiled, a charming smile, showing beautiful white teeth. "I am sure food from your hand would be more than a feast."
"Please, take off your wet cloak, sir, and make yourself comfortable. I will prepare you food and drink."
Skarp shed his cloak and scarf and hung them on a wooden peg to dry by the fire.
"I apologize for bringing the weather inside your comfortable home. And I deeply appreciate your hospitality."
She looked closely at him then. Hair, black as an abyss, curled like shaggy midnight around his face. His cheeks were hollow, lending a sleek sharpness to his handsome features.
Kira put a bowl of steaming stew on the table and went to pour him a mug of ale. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him watching her, his eyes strangely burning with some unrecognizable emotion. Anticipation? Excitement?
Bringing a spoon of stew to his lips, he blew on it and Kira took in the sensual bow of his mouth.
A very attractive man. The kind of man Amma had warned her to be wary of. And yet he drew her to him. She sat at the table across from him, handing him his ale.
"Thank you." He took the mug from her hand, his fingers trailing along hers.
She pulled back from the tingling his touch sent along her nerves.
What is happening to me?
Skarp smiled and spooned stew into his mouth, chewing the meat. His smile grew.
"Ah, rabbit. Delicious, Kira."
As he ate, his eyes never left her face. They moved from her nose to her mouth and then returned to her eyes. His attention made her stomach twist and her limbs tingle. To her horror, she realized her nipples had hardened and the rub of her rough linen tunic against them was becoming sweetly painful. His dangerous allure captivated her, making her skin hot and her pulse pound.
