by Mia Harris
“Oh, no. That’s terrible. I hope the poor woman gets better soon. I was speaking with your father the other day; didn’t he say that she had only just moved to the village?”
“Yes, quite recently. I haven’t even seen her new cottage yet, because I have been so busy helping Mama with her sewing. It’s out on Cottenham Woods Road, though, and Papa assures me that she is very happy with the cottage,” Emily replied.
Mr. Prentice slid a heavenly-smelling warm loaf of bread into a paper bag.
“I just love all these new inventions they are coming up with. Paper bags; next they will have paper houses!” he joked. “Say, does your Grandma live at number four Cottenham Woods Road by any chance?”
“No, she is in number ten. Why?” Emily asked.
“I often take long strolls through the woods, and I came across number four a while ago. Beautiful little garden out the front, and it’s tucked away into the woods like a little fairy cottage. Absolutely wonderful,” he replied.
“I daresay all the cottages out there are like that,” she said, smiling. “I would love to live in a little cottage, tucked away in the forest like that.”
“Well, you’re eighteen now. It’s about time your father found a suitable young man for you to marry. Maybe your future husband will buy you a cottage out there.”
“Maybe,” Emily replied, casting her eyes down so that Mr. Prentice wouldn’t see how embarrassed she was.
She had been interested in the boy next door for quite some time, but when she had daringly brought up the concept of them getting married one day, he had laughed in her face, and cruelly told her that she was too plump. She had never felt unattractive up until that moment, and she had gone home crying. Her Mama had given her some comfort, telling her that she wasn’t overweight; she was just buxom, and many other girls were probably envious of her generous cleavage.
Emily had tried to push the incident from her mind, but Mr. Prentice’s little speech had brought all the memories flooding back. After paying him for the bread, she placed it in her basket, thanked him and then headed to the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the tall man in the grey coat, still standing on the other side of the bakehouse looking at some cakes that Mr. Prentice had made.
She turned her head slightly and noticed that he was actually looking at her, and only pretending to be examining the cakes. Her face turned bright red, and she hurried out onto the main street. Now, Cottenham Woods Road… I have to walk down Darby Lane, and then turn left when I come across the sign.
Once she had found the road, she headed down it with her heavy basket swinging from one arm. Humming an old tune that her Papa had taught her as a child, she noticed that the sky seemed darker all of a sudden. Looking up, she realized that it was because of the heavy tree cover. The road cut directly through the woods, and she was getting deeper and deeper into them with every step that she took.
After passing a sign that said ‘Number Four’, she craned her neck and looked to her left. Mr. Prentice was right; from the road, she could see a beautiful little garden, and could also just make out a little cottage. If I ever do get married, I’d like a garden just like that. After admiring the garden for a moment longer, she continued on her way.
The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up, and something told her that it wasn’t from the cold. She stood frozen in place for a moment, and then turned around. A grey and white wolf was following her quite closely, and she was petrified. She had heard awful stories of people being attacked and eaten by wolves in her childhood, but never in Cottenham Woods. This forest was meant to be safe; that was why so many people built homes out here.
Looking around, Emily noticed that there was no one anywhere around. No one to help her. Oh no.
The wolf kept stalking slowly towards her, and her legs felt like jelly. Please don’t collapse. Her Papa had once told her that if a dangerous-looking dog was approaching, one should not display fear. Perhaps it is the same with wolves.
“Um… shoo!” she called out, once she felt bold enough.
Her heart was beating crazily, and for a minute she thought that it might explode out of her chest. She bit her lip nervously, and placed an apple from her basket in front of her.
“Would you like an apple? If you’re hungry, these are really nice. They are freshly-picked from my Mama and Papa’s apple tree,” she said.
The wolf cocked its head to one side and studied her, before leaning forward and sniffing the apple. It looked up at her again after a moment, its green eyes glowing brightly.
“Perhaps you would like some soup instead. You’re a wolf, how silly of me… you want meat. The soup has chicken in it.”
Emily reached into her basket and pulled out the covered bowl that her Mama had put the soup in. After carefully placing it on the ground, she watched as the wolf sniffed it, and then pawed at the covering.
“Here,” she said, removing the cover.
The wolf looked up at her with what appeared to be a grateful look, and then lapped up the entire bowl of soup in seconds. I suppose I’ll have to go home now, and get some more soup.
She suddenly remembered that the bread was warm and fresh, just how she knew Grandma liked it, so instead of heading home, she decided to drop the apples and bread off at her cottage, and then bring some soup back a little later in the afternoon. The wolf was sitting back on its haunches now, watching her.
“Goodbye, wolf,” she whispered before turning on her heel and walking away as quickly as possible.
As she turned around and looked over her shoulder, the wolf appeared to chase after her, and for a moment she was terrified again. Instead, it dashed ahead of her until she saw it finally disappear into the woods much farther up the road. Her heart was still beating crazily, but she was proud of how she had handled the situation.
She strolled up the road, getting deeper and deeper into the wood, and noticed a little sign saying ‘Number Eight’. Grandma’s house will be coming up soon.
The next home that she came across was a dark brown wooden log cottage, with an even more beautiful garden out the front than number four’s had been. As she gazed at it, marveling at all the colorful flowers, she wished that she could find a husband who would buy this exact cottage for her, so she could spend her days tending to such an incredible garden. Also, this must be number nine, which means I would be living right next door to Grandma! I suppose a girl is allowed to dream.
She looked at the sign, still assuming that it was number nine. It was number ten. Oh… I suppose I must have passed number nine and not even noticed it, she thought as she walked up the little pathway up to the set of steps that led to the front door. My, Papa sure did buy her a wonderful cottage. I can’t believe Grandma is so lucky; she gets to sit out here in this incredible garden all day… when she isn’t sick, that is.
After knocking on the door, she waited for a second, but didn’t hear her Grandma calling for her to come in.
“Grandma? It’s me, Emily. I’ve brought you some food. Are you in there?” she said, wondering if Grandma was asleep, or perhaps too ill to even call out.
“Grandma, I’m coming inside, alright?”
The door was unlocked, and as she pushed it open, she gasped in shock. The interior of the cottage was even more amazing than the exterior. It was filled with beautiful furniture and paintings, and on one side of the main lounge room, there was a shelf filled with books. I had no idea that Papa could afford this. I suppose Grandma deserves it, after all, she did raise him.
“Grandma?” she called again.
Still no answer; not even a sickly moan. She must be sleeping. Emily set the basket down on the kitchen table that sat near her, and then looked around. There was a little hallway leading down to the other end of the house, and she assumed that it led to the bedroom. As she began to walk down the hallway, she saw a familiar shape emerging from one of the rooms. The wolf.
This time, Emily screamed. She tried to turn around and
run, and heard heavy breathing directly behind her. Suddenly, two strong, hairy arms encircled her waist, pulling her backwards, and she screamed loudly again.
“Shh, little girl,” a deep, masculine voice said.
The voice was familiar, and Emily immediately realized who it was. The man from the bakehouse earlier. She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he simply let her go before pulling her around to face him. The wolf was gone, and she had no idea how it had escaped the house so quickly.
“There was a wolf!” she said, her heart beating faster than ever before. “What are you doing in my Grandma’s house? I’m very worried about her; I think the wolf might have attacked her.”
The man smiled at her and took a step backwards.
“Your grandmother is fine,” he said, offering no explanation as to how he knew that.
Emily stared at him as she rubbed her waist, still clueless as to what was going on.
“Well, where is she? My, you have strong arms. I think you might have left a bruise on my waist.”
“All the better to hold you down with, my dear,” he replied.
His eyes glowed a preternatural green, and within seconds, he was gone; replaced by the same grey and white wolf. Emily gasped, and as her hand flew to her mouth, the wolf transformed back into the man again. A werewolf. Oh no. It was common knowledge that they existed, but Emily had never heard of one living in her village.
“What….? I don’t understand…” she babbled, utterly terrified. “Please, don’t eat me!”
“I’m not going to eat you,” he said, moving closer to her again and sliding his arms back around her waist.
Emily felt a confusing mixture of emotions surge through her mind. She was absolutely terrified; this man had just transformed into a wolf right in front of her… what if he’s lying? He could still eat me! On the other hand, his strong, muscular arms and deep gravelly voice were causing a warm feeling to build in her neck and chest, slowly spreading down her soft belly and between her thighs. She had no idea what it was, but it felt strangely good, and she had the distinct feeling that it was the kind of sensation that people got when they were married and deeply in love with the other person. But I’m not in love. I don’t even know this man… wolf… whatever he is. So what is this feeling?
The man’s eyes glowed again as he pulled her red hood down, revealing her tousled blonde hair. Emily suddenly felt bold, and slapped him in the face.
“How dare you touch me!” she said.
His grip around her waist had loosened somewhat, so she squirmed out of his arms and made a run for the door. As she ran, she heard a deep growl behind her, and seconds later he was behind her, holding her in his arms again. She struggled against him, but it was pointless. He was too strong.
“Please, let me go!” she whimpered.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he growled, before pulling her around to face him again.
His green eyes blazed with anger, and a fierce expression crossed his face as he stared down at her. Emily stared back, her eyes wide, and he reached forward and grabbed her by the shoulder, and then gripped her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. She was still terrified, but the warm feeling was spreading through her even more rapidly now, and she suddenly felt the need to take her red cloak off. My, it’s getting so hot in here.
The man leaned down and roughly kissed her, his tongue hunting for a way into her mouth. Emily had never been kissed before, and she was surprised to note that it actually felt quite nice. Shivers began to shoot down her spine, and she realized that she didn’t want the man to stop as he continued to assault her mouth. He was rough, but something about his kiss was undeniably delicious.
Wait. My Mama and Papa would kill me if they knew that I was letting a man kiss me… especially a werewolf, if that’s what he is.
Despite her desire for him to continue, she knew that it was wrong to let a man touch her before marriage, so she struggled against him, trying to push him away. She failed, but he finally came up for air and smirked down at her.
“Please… tell me what you want from me,” she whispered, rubbing her chin. His stubble had grazed her soft skin, and she knew that her face was bright red.
He didn’t answer her, and pulled on her red cloak. It slid down her shoulders and onto the floor, and he picked her up in his muscular arms, hoisted her over his shoulder, and then carried her down the hallway towards one of the rooms.
“No… please! Put me down!” she protested, pummeling on his back with her small fists as he stalked closer to a closed wooden door.
Kicking it open with one foot, he entered the room and then threw her down on a large, soft bed. Emily skittered to the furthest end of the bed, half-expecting him to climb onto it and attack her, but he stood next to the bed instead, staring down at her with his glowing eyes.
“You asked me what I want. I want you,” he growled.
“Why… why do you want me? Who are you?” she whispered, her cheeks still burning.
Without her red cloak on, she felt vulnerable and exposed. The blue dress that she was wearing underneath was made of a thin fabric which pulled tightly around her full breasts and hips, and she saw the werewolf’s eyes lingering on those areas of her body. He smiled down at her, and his eyes seemed to burn with some kind of emotion that was unfamiliar to Emily.
“My name is Henry Grey. I saw you in the bakehouse today and wanted you immediately. You see what I am; I am a werewolf. I have reached the age where I must take a mate, but so far in this little village, I have not seen a single suitable female. Until now, that is,” he said, his deep voice making goose bumps prickle up all over Emily’s skin.
“Why me?” she asked, still terrified.
“Because of your scent, your face, your kindness… and your body. Even under your little red cloak, I could see the real woman’s body that was underneath. You will be my mate.”
Emily realized what the expression in his eyes meant. He wants me in… that way. The way that I felt myself responding earlier. She knew that her body was telling her that she wanted him to touch her, but she couldn’t disappoint her Mama and Papa like this. I must resist temptation.
“No,” she said. “I must be married before I let a man touch me in that way.”
He glared down at her.
“If I must conform to your ridiculous human ceremonies to have you, then I will. But first, I want to take you as my mate in the way that only one of my kind can,” he growled, stalking closer to the bed.
The warm feeling in her body was fast becoming a tingling sensation, and seconds later she felt a tiny area directly between her legs beginning to throb. It felt strange, but in a nice way, and she realized that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
“Alright,” she whispered. “I will be your mate. But please… don’t hurt me.”
The werewolf growled.
“I can’t promise you that. I am rough, like all the males of my kind are, but I can promise you that I will make you feel good,” he said.
He began to transform right in front of her again, and seconds later, the grey and white wolf was leaping onto the bed. Emily lay down, frozen in place, and the wolf raked its claws down the front of her dress. She looked down, expecting to see that it had broken her skin, but it had been a lot gentler than she had thought. Only her dress was damaged.
The wolf was suddenly Henry again, and he growled softly as he tore away the now-ruined dress. Underneath, she wore thin cream-colored undergarments that her mother had made for her, and his eyes burned with arousal as he pulled them off.
“You are the most incredibly beautiful human that I have ever seen,” he growled, once she was completely naked. “Your luscious curves are enough to drive any wolf completely mad.”
She had never let anyone see her naked before; even her Mama and Papa hadn’t seen her body since they used to bathe her as a child. After the comment that the neighbor boy had made to her, she had never expected to hear a man
speaking to her in this way, so clearly attracted to what lay beneath her clothing.
After running his hands all over her skin for several minutes, caressing and admiring her, he yanked her legs apart and climbed between them before sliding his mouth over ear.
“Now, little girl… are you wet for me?” he murmured.
Emily didn’t know what he meant. Why would I be wet?
“Umm… I don’t know,” she whispered.
Henry pulled his face back and slid both hands over her full, soft breasts. Her pink nipples stiffened under his hands, and Emily was mystified. I’m not even cold, so why are they getting hard?
“You really are an innocent,” he said, his green eyes twinkling with amusement.
