Witch Hunter: dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 1)

by Steffanie Holmes

With a single swing of his great executioner’s sword, he severed the rope that held my hands. I fell forward, my body weak from the smoke, and he swept me up into his arms. Throwing me over his shoulder, Ulrich ran back down the pyre, his sword-arm still hacking and slashing as he fought his way to safety.

  “Ulrich!” But he didn’t respond. He was possessed by the spirit of battle.

  He tore off the bottom of his black cloak before the flames could damage his body. As he ran, the flames rose in the air behind us, curling over like a great snake poising to strike. The flames rose higher, and then crashed down, the great plume smashing into the town hall. The wooden structure caught fire quickly, and the flames leapt along the sheltered porch and began to tear at the roof, leaping to the neighbouring house. Villagers began to turn away from the pyre, scrambling to find water to put out the fires.

  Fire. That was Aunt Bernadine’s magic. But that means-

  “We’ve got him!” It was Aunt Bernadine. Never in my life had I been so glad to hear her grumpy voice. She and Aubrey emerged from the flaming house, dragging a coughing man between them. I recognised Tjard, Ulrich’s löwe.

  “We must run!”

  We raced for the village gates, which stood wide open. Simon was guarding them, but when he saw Ulrich coming, his sword slick with blood, he leapt out of the way and hid behind a stack of barrels. We dashed through the gates and out into the fields.

  “Head into the forest!” Aunt Aubrey cried. “We’ll lose them in there.”

  I glanced behind us, and saw the mob of villagers racing through the gates after us, flaming torches held high.

  “We’re not going to make it!” I cried. “They’re too fast.”

  “We can be faster.” Ulrich put both his hands in his mouth, and whistled.

  For several agonising minutes, nothing happened, save that we continued our painfully slow jog across the fields, and more and more people streamed from the village gates and raced after us. But then, I heard someone scream, and another shout, and hooves clattered against the road.

  Two beautiful black mares smashed through the crowd, knocking down people in all directions. Behind them, they dragged a wooden carriage, upon which sat a couple of crates that weren’t tied down. As the carriage bounced over the uneven fields, the crates fell off, flying open and spilling their contents across the dirt. Men pulled up short as tools and metal implements bounced across the ground. I saw a poker hit Elder Ernust in the head, and he toppled over.

  The mares galloped up alongside us, slowing to a trot as they grew level with Ulrich. In one fluid motion he grabbed the reins of the closest one - with a white diamond on her head - and swung us up on the horse’s back. “Quickly!” he yelled at my aunts. They didn’t need to be told twice. Aubrey rolled Tjard on to the carriage and helped Bernadine climb up, before jumping up after her.

  Ulrich yanked on the reins, and we flew into the trees, the carriage wheels bouncing and creaking as they clattered over the uneven ground. I stared behind us, my stomach tight with fear as I watched the torchlights enter the trees behind us. But they soon grew dim, before fading completely. We were too fast for them.

  Ulrich rode on, his face set forward, a look of grim determination in his eyes. He didn’t stop until we were well past the boundaries of the village. The horses were panting, their coats slick with sweat. Ulrich stopped at the edge of a deep pool, and guided them to drink.

  He set me down on the ground, and inspected my body for injuries. “The fire didn’t touch you?”

  I shook my head. “You saved me.”

  “You are wrong, Ada. It is you who saved me.”

  His words made my skin flush. “At the trial … all those things you said ... I thought you had forsaken me.”

  “I could never betray you,” Ulrich held my head against his chest. I could hear his heart, thundering through his ribcage.

  Suddenly, Ulrich started laughing.

  “What? What’s so funny?”

  “Do you recognise this place?” Ulrich asked me.

  I glanced around, taking in the crystal pool, the small waterfall topping down the rounded stones, the rows of white oak and fir saplings. We were in the grove.

  “It seems that neither of us can escape our fate,” said Ulrich, pulling me close to him. “Whether it was my God or your Goddess, someone has brought us together, Ada.”

  I stared to reply, but Ulrich leaned in, and pressed his lips to mine.

  “Hey, lovebirds.” snapped Bernadine. “I don’t mean to ruin this precious moment, but we have a village of witch-haters to outrun, still.”

  “Of course,” Ulrich turned back to his horse. “I’ll just check Willow’s tether, and-”

  Something landed on my back, shoving me into the dirt, and pinning me down with a sharp object in the small of my back. Before I could cry out, a skinny arm went around my neck, yanking my head up and back, bending my back. I felt the cool steel of a blade pressed against my throat.

  “None of you move,” said Clarissa, her voice rasping against my ear. “Or I slit her pretty little throat.”

  Ulrich took a step toward her. “Clarissa, what are you doing?”

  She pressed the cool blade against my throat. “I said, don’t move!”

  Behind me, I could hear the trees shaking, the rising of angry voices. The villagers were coming. We didn’t have much time.

  “Who are you?” Bernadine demanded, her cold eyes flashing. “What do you want?”

  “Ulrich knows what I want,” Clarissa sneered. “I don’t think it is too much to ask that after all my years of devotion to him, I be rewarded with a husband.”

  “If you want a man to marry you, threatening someone with a knife is not usually the way to get what you want,” Aubrey said, calmly.

  “Quiet!” Clarissa screamed, pressing the blade. I felt the sting of the metal as it pierced my flesh. No, please no.

  “Clarissa, come now. This isn’t right. Just put down the knife. I will help you escape here, I promise.”

  “I don’t just want to escape, Ulrich. I want to escape with you. I want you to take me with you.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Quickly,” Clarissa said. “You have only a moment before the entire village finds us here. Take me with you, Ulrich, and make me your wife, or I will slit the throat of this witch. What’s it going to be?”

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Ulrich and Ada’s story continues in Witches of the Woods Book II, Coven. START READING NOW.

  Excerpt from Coven

  Dark secrets. Forbidden love.

  Ada and Ulrich have fled from the persecution of the village, but now a more dangerous threat awaits them in the forest. Ulrich's father, Damon of Donau-Ries, has heard of his son's betrayal. Now, the world's most formidable witch hunter marches across Europe in search of his heretic son, and the witch who turned him against God.

  While Ulrich fights against his father, Ada faces her own battle. Her magic abilities have finally shown themselves, but she is in possession of a dark secret. Ada is more powerful than she could ever have imagined, but her power is also a danger to herself and to everyone she loves.

  Coven is a full-length novel by USA Today bestselling author Steffanie Holmes. It's part 2 of a 3-part steamy romance series exploring Ada and Ulrich's forbidden love, and ends on a cliffhanger. The story contains elements of BDSM and dungeon play. If you like dark, brooding heroes, magical forces, and fearless heroines who know what they want, then this novel will have you shivering all over.

  Enjoy this taste of Coven:

  That night Ada huddled against me for warmth, an action I readily encouraged. I had been thinking about her nonstop ever since we’d escaped the village, but I hadn’t been able to take her in the way I wanted to. At night she fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted by the demands of the road, and I had to stand watch and find some sleep myself. In this moment, it felt wonderful to have her next to me, alive and warm and intoxicating, but she wa
s a distraction. I had to keep her safe, which meant I needed all my senses on full alert. We hadn’t so much as kissed since Clarissa found us. My body ached with desire for her, but I was too tired, too worried. And Ada, of course, would not initiate anything, although I could see she too wanted me.

  But Ada’s curse hung over us, and I counted on my fingers the days since we’d last made love. Was it truly only six days ago? It felt like much longer. Nevertheless, I felt a familiar tugging against the cloth of my breeches. I didn’t mind at all being forced to do my duty to keep her powers.

  Although the night was cold, it was also beautiful. Ada’s aunts and Tjard were asleep some distance off, sheltered in the crook of a gnarled trunk. We lay together against the side of the cart, snow piling up around us, the blankets pulled tight around our faces to protect us from the wind. Just being beside her, inhaling her soft scent, was intoxicating. I watched Ada as she stared at the dark grey sky, awake and unblinking, the silhouette of her features just visible against the snow: her tiny nose, her heart-shaped face, her high, noble cheekbones. The cupid’s bow of her lips pursed, waiting.

  My cock stirred, starting to harden as I thought of those lips on mine, or wrapped around my shaft, sliding up and down, warming me in the way only she knew how. Ada. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been craving her these past days. But now my body was desperate for her.

  I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers, my cold nose brushing her warm skin. The kiss ignited the spark within me, as it awoke her also. I devoured her lips in mine. She tasted warm and fresh, as if she were made of dew. My tongue slid over hers, hungrily probing deeper. Now that we were locked together, I didn’t know how I’d survived for so many days without her. I needed her touch desperately.

  Ada’s kisses grew more fervent. She made a mewling noise as she raked her delicate fingers through my hair, pulling my head closer. She needed me as much as I needed her.

  I slipped my hands under her dress, relishing the heat of her skin. I moved my fingers across her chest, feeling for her nipples. They were already hard with desire, as I took one between my fingers and pinched slightly. Ada moaned against me, digging her nails into my shoulders. I was so hard that my cock pressed against her hip.

  I kept rolling her nipple between my fingers. Ada moaned louder now, her breath sharp in my ear. I’d never heard her make noise like that before. She almost sounded as if she were in pain—

  “Stop …” she gasped.

  Stop? She didn’t have to say that anymore. I needed to remind Ada that we weren’t in the dungeon any longer. She wasn’t my prisoner. She didn’t have to play the game by pretending to beg for mercy. I kissed her hard, pushing my tongue deep inside her mouth while I scraped my nail over her nipple.

  “Ulrich, stop!”

  I froze, my fingers dropping her nipple. Ada sounded serious. Her whole body was shaking. No, not shaking. Convulsing. I pulled back, searching her stricken features for the problem. But what happened?

  Ada tore herself from my grasp, pressing her hands against her chest, gasping for air. Her face crumpled with pain, her skin pale as death.

  Want more? Read Coven now.

  What’s new from Steffanie Holmes?

  A sassy heroine, a sexy fox-shifter, and a centuries old battle being played out at the Crookshollow Art Gallery …

  Alexandra Kline has landed her dream job - curating her first art exhibition at the prestigious Halt Institute in the small English village of Crookshollow. But the dream quickly turns into a nightmare when she’s forced to work with Ryan Raynard - the arrogant, reclusive artist who refuses to co-operate with her. When Ryan’s paintings don’t show up at the gallery on time, Alex heads out to his crumbling, gothic manor to give him a piece of her mind.

  Billionaire artist Ryan Raynard hides a dark secret. He is a fox shifter, who shuns the company of humans and hunts alone at night in the forest surrounding his home. But the moment he laid eyes on Alex, he can't help but be drawn to her. He can sense that she’s the descendent of a powerful shifter clan, and she is destined to become his mate. If only he was ready to fall in love again ...

  As Ryan and Alex are drawn together, they realise they are facing bigger problems than Ryan’s stone-cold heart. Crookshollow is being overrun with a different kind of shifter - ruthless and deadly, these shifters are killing humans indiscriminately for no apparent reason. And they are hot on Alex’s scent. Can Ryan keep Alex safe from harm, or will his need for her endanger them both?

  Art of Cunning is the first book in the 3-part Crookshollow Foxes novella series. This book contains scorching sex, adult language, and a cliffhanger ending. If you like dirty, raunchy sex with a hot fox and one clever, sarcastic heroine, then this book will have you howling for more.

  Read Art of Cunning now: Buy on Amazon

  Enjoy an except from the first Crookshollow Foxes book, Art of Cunning.

  I pulled away from Ryan. "You can't do this to me."

  "Do what?"

  "Before, you were…and then, suddenly, you're prowling around like something is going to attack you." I folded my arms across the chest, keeping my eyes glued on the shadowy forest so that I didn't have to look at him, so that he couldn't see the tears pooling in my eyes. When I spoke, my voice was hard. "What's wrong with me? I told you I wanted to be your mate. So why do you push me away?"

  He grabbed my arm and spun me around. "Something startled me," he whispered, his eyes boring into mine. His robe had come undone, revealing the outline of his naked chest beneath it. "The thread of a memory. I am sorry."

  "That's not it. It seems as if you're holding back. I see all the wild desire in your eyes, and yet, when you kiss me, it is tame."

  "I'm trying to be gentle," he said. His grip on my arm tightened, the pain sending a shiver of desire through me. I knew that's what he was trying to do, but I wanted him to stop. I didn't want to sleep with Ryan the sensitive artist; I wanted Ryan the wild, powerful fox man. I wanted the raw, primal lust I saw in his eyes, for that same desire burned below my skin.

  "Ryan, you can't pretend to be something you're not. If I am to be…your mate, then you treat me like one. I am to have all of you, or I am to have nothing."

  His eyes flickered. "Alex, you don't know what you're asking. The relationship between a fox and his mate is very…complex. It's an exchange of power, of vital, elemental magic. It's a test of the vixen's strength to endure what her mate desires of her. I wanted to ease you into it. I wanted to give you pleasure you'd never known before, before I tried to break you."

  "You can't break me, Ryan Raynard." I said, staring back at him with the fiercest expression I could muster. "Just you try."

  As I delivered this, I yanked my arm away. But he was too quick. He stepped in and grabbed my other arm, twisting it around so that I no choice but to follow it. He pinned my arm behind my back, pressing his naked chest against me, so I could feel the warmth of him through the thin layer, feel his hardness pressing against my ass cheeks. I was just where I wanted to be, trapped and completely under his power.

  This is more like it.

  Want more? Read Art of Cunning now.

  Support me on Patreon!

  You can support Steffanie’s writing via her Patreon page – it’s like an ongoing crowdfunding campaign where you get free books, deleted scenes, random fun stuff, and the chance to name characters and decide plots.

  Check Steff’s patron page out on: www.patreon.com/steffmetal.

  About the Author

  Steffanie Holmes is the author of steamy historical and paranormal romance. Her books feature clever, witty heroines, wild shifters, cunning witches and alpha males who always get what they want.

  Before becoming a writer, Steffanie worked as an archaeologist and museum curator. She loves to explore historical settings and ancient conceptions of love and possession. From Dark Age Europe to crumbling gothic estates, Steffanie is fascinated with how love can blossom between the most unlikely characters.

&
nbsp; Steffanie lives in New Zealand with her husband and a horde of cantankerous cats.

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  Other Books By Steffanie Holmes

  Crookshollow Foxes

  Art of Cunning - READ NOW

  Art of the Hunt - READ NOW

  Art of Temptation - READ NOW

  Crookshollow Ghosts

  The Man in Black - READ NOW

  Crookshollow Ravens

  Watcher - READ NOW

  Reaper - READ NOW

  Witches of the Woods

  Witch Hunter - READ NOW

  Coven - READ NOW

  The Curse (coming in 2016)

  The Engine Ward Series (as S C Green)

  The Sunken - READ NOW

  The Gauge War - READ NOW

  Thorn - READ NOW

  Want to be informed when the next Steffanie Holmes paranormal romance story goes live? Sign up for the mailing list to get the scoop.