The Maiden and the Werewolf Read online

  Never had she felt so abandoned. So alone.

  Valgard watched from the forest. She would need help, but would she accept it from him? He raised his nose to catch the scents on the breeze, but didn’t detect the evil ones. But it was a certainty Skarp would return now that the old one was gone.

  The girl Kira would have to choose her path. He prayed to the Great Spirit that she would choose the right one.

  * * * *

  The frozen ground made hard digging, but, between bouts of grief, Kira scraped at it, trying to make a start. She would get on her knees if necessary to make the grave as deep as possible to protect Amma’s body against scavengers.

  Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her. Fearing the wolves had found her, she twisted around, swinging the shovel up, prepared to fight for her life.

  The man, Valgard, stood before her, his hands raised. "It appears you can use some help."

  "Go away." She turned her back on him and went back to digging.

  Big hands covered hers on the shovel’s handle. "Let me do this. Go prepare your grandmother."

  Shock at his words stung her. She raised her eyes to his.

  "How did you know?"

  "I know many things, sweet Kira." He took the shovel from her.

  She stared down at his hands for a long moment before finally releasing the shovel to him.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  He smiled at her. "Go, care for her. I’ll let you know when it’s done."

  She walked back to the cottage to prepare her grandmother for her long sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Valgard waited in the open doorway as Kira gently encircled her grandmother in a large, colorful fringed cloth. Lovingly, she pulled the corners of the shawl around her grandmother and then arranged Amma’s hands over the crossed material.

  She sat down in the chair by the cot and stared at the shell, all that remained of her family. He felt a twinge at the sight. He knew well the overwhelming sense of loss, the loneliness she was now experiencing. He’d had to prepare his own father and brother for burial.

  He swept away his own still lingering grief.

  "Kira, the grave is ready for her."

  She turned her large green eyes toward him, and even from the distance between them, he could see they swam in glistening tears.

  "She is ready for the grave," Kira said, her voice trembling.

  He nodded and approached. Kira moved out of the way so he could lift Amma from her bed. He carried her out the front door, Kira close behind with Amma’s blanket clutched to her breast.

  At the graveside, Kira spread the blanket on the ground. He lay Amma on it so Kira could wrap her in the warm wool.

  "It’s so cold." Kira spoke the words softly, her voice empty.

  "She is not here, Kira."

  "I know," she said as she pulled the blanket tight, taking one last look before she pulled it over Amma’s face. "It still seems cruel to lay her in the ground."

  He picked Amma up again and lay her in her grave. "It’s where we shall all return. Dust to dust."

  He stepped back, giving Kira time to bid her grandmother a final good-bye.

  "I don’t know what to say," she whispered, turning to him. "Do you?"

  It was the first time she’d asked for his help. He was pleased and nodded. He thought of the words his people had spoken for centuries over their dead.

  "The Great Spirit set this woman apart from humanity to serve Him. Now her service is done and she goes to sit at His side and pray for victory over the Darkness. Rest well, warrior woman. Enjoy the peace you have earned."

  He reached down and grabbed a handful of cold dirt. Tossing it onto the body, he looked to Kira, expecting her to do the same.

  She stood frozen by his side. Why didn’t she follow his example?

  "What was that nonsense about the Darkness and Amma being a warrior?"

  Had Amma told her nothing, even after his urging?

  "Didn’t she tell you?"

  Kira waved her hand at him. "She told me a fairy tale about people turning into wolves and of a battle between Light and Darkness. It was only a story."

  "Was it?"

  "Of course. What kind of idiocy is it that people can change form into beasts?"

  "It is no idiocy. It is the truth. A truth you have to face."

  "No."

  Her denial was softly spoken. The lack of vehemence gave him hope she could be convinced. But now was not the time.

  "Very well, do you have something you’d prefer to say?"

  Kira stared into the open grave for a long moment. Then she bowed her head in an attitude of prayer. He followed her lead.

  "Great Spirit," she began, "give Amma rest and peace. And help me to go on without her. Thank You for giving me such a loving grandmother."

  She bent down and tossed a handful of earth onto the body. Then she picked up the shovel to do the task of covering the grave. Valgard took the shovel from her.

  "Go inside and let me do this."

  She made no effort to resist his suggestion. He watched her return to the cottage alone.

  Kira sat by the fire, staring into the flames leaping in a mockery of life. She was warm and protected from the elements. Amma lay in the frozen ground.

  She shut her eyes, trying to relieve herself of the guilt of the living. Amma was at peace now, beyond pain, beyond the illness that had made her last days a burden. She should be happy for her grandmother’s release from this world. No doubt plagued her that Amma was now blissfully reunited with her family on the other side.

  The sound of the door opening made her turn. Valgard entered and came to crouch next to her. He held his large hands toward the fire. She knew she should offer him a warm drink, perhaps some food, but she couldn’t make herself speak to him.

  His words still echoed in her mind. He’d called Amma a warrior, but Amma was no warrior. She’d only ever been Amma.

  "She was much more than that," he whispered.

  "How can you know what I’m thinking?"

  He pursed his lips, clearly considering his reply. "Tell me about the dream you had last night."

  "What?"

  "Tell me about the dream of lovemaking you had."

  "No." Kira jumped off the stool and backed away.

  Valgard rose and approached her. "Tell me you did not feel my hands on your body."

  How could he know? And how could he say such things to her? Today of all days.

  "My grandmother is just in her grave--"

  "Yes, and she knew this would happen between us."

  "Nothing is happening between us." She scurried around the table. "Thank you for your help. Now please leave me to grieve."

  "You don’t have time to grieve, Kira." He followed her around the table. She found herself unable to move away from him.

  "Be my mate."

  The words from her dream formed in her mind.

  "Yes, sweet Kira. It was me in your dream. I loved you last night. All that remains is for us to mate in reality. I will protect you. I would die for you."

  "I don’t want you to die." The words were out before she realized she had thought them.

  He smiled and raised his hand to brush her hair back from her face. His fingers traced the line of her jaw, lingering on her chin. He tipped her face to his and lowered his mouth to hers.

  His lips grazed hers. "Kiss me, Kira."

  She could no more disobey his command than she could stop breathing. Her lips parted tentatively, as a nameless yearning raced through her body. He mated their mouths in sweet perfection.

  His tongue pushed gently between her lips and she opened to him, drawing him in, the sensation reaching down into her soul.

  Her arms circled his neck, seeking an anchor in the storm of sensations he had created. His solid strength grounded her and suddenly the world became a different place. A place where she was no longer alone.

  "No, sweet, you will never be alone. My people are your peopl
e and you are mine. Forever."

  Never alone. Mine. Forever.

  The words echoed in her head, soothing, reassuring.

  She tightened her arms around him, urging him closer, closer. It felt so right, as if this were where she had always belonged.

  Through a haze of desire she felt his strong hands slide her tunic from her neck as his lips left hers to press along her cheek to her ear. He nuzzled, then nipped her lobe in a way achingly familiar, for she recognized his loving--so exactly like the man in her dream. Her man. The man Amma had said her body, her head, and her heart would know.

  "Will you accept me, Kira?" he whispered in her ear, his voice deep and trembling.

  Chapter Nine

  There could be only one answer. "Yes."

  His hands slipped possessively downward and caught her tunic, drawing it over her head. She quivered, first at the cool air on her heated flesh, and then again, when his gaze fell to her bared breasts.

  She made to cover herself, but he captured her hands, kissing each finger, then moving them slowly down her sides. Releasing her hands, he slid his own up her arms. Her eyes fluttered as his thumbs found her nipples. She felt them harden under his touch. She moaned.

  Without realizing how, her trousers lay pooled at her feet and he had taken a step back, his silver eyes sweeping over her. She watched as a slow smile formed on his face.

  "So very beautiful you are. So perfect."

  His words sent a shiver of longing through her. Never had she felt so wanted, so desirable. Never had she yearned to know more.

  He lifted her onto the table’s edge. She reached out and slipped his vest from his shoulders. He stilled as she pulled the drawstring on his trousers, letting them fall to the floor.

  His manhood stood rigid, proud, and Kira gasped.

  "What’s wrong?" he asked, a knowing expression on his face.

  "It’s so big." She extended her fingertips hesitantly toward the rigid flesh.

  "Touch me, Kira."

  Her fingertips grazed him. The velvety feel surprised her. More boldly, she stroked him. This time, it was Valgard who gasped.

  "Have I hurt you?"

  "No, sweet Kira," he said, placing her hand back and wrapping her fingers around him. Then he moved her hand up and down the length of the shaft.

  "Gently, now," he said.

  He was so hard, yet so smooth. She liked the look on his face as she touched him. She liked the sensation touching him created in her.

  Valgard lowered his lips to hers and seared her to the center of her soul with a kiss of total possession. His tongue swept through her mouth, seeking all her secrets and giving her his own soul.

  He spread her legs and moved between them. His hardness pressed against her belly, as though a thing alive, seeking harbor. He gently pushed her down to lie on the table, then he raised her legs to encircle his waist. She squeezed tighter, pulling him closer. His fingers swept her private place, coming to rest at the center of all her yearning.

  She cried out and writhed on the rough wood. Again he rubbed his finger across the tight bud. She arched and again cried out at the pleasure of his touch.

  "Now, sweet, you shall be mine."

  He pressed himself against her, seeking the harbor of her body. She opened her thighs wider, wanting more than anything to be joined with him. His manhood, hard and rigid, slid inside her body, stretching her. More and more she took. More than she thought she could accept.

  He stroked, breaking her maidenhead in a quick flash of pain followed by pure pleasure. The thick, hard shaft was withdrawn, leaving her feeling empty, then it was back in a hard stroke.

  A cry of rapture flew from her throat.

  Then another as Valgard stroked. In and out. Again and again.

  Her eyes squeezed shut as though that could help her bear the incredible pleasure engulfing her. The pleasure blew through her like a winter storm through the forest, encompassing her, covering her, swallowing her in its fury.

  She opened her eyes as she swam through the fog of desire. Valgard’s eyes were closed, his face bearing the expression of divine agony she felt. She couldn’t look away from him and looking at him drove her own agony higher.

  "Kira, sweet," he whispered.

  "Valgard, my love."

  A final thrust exploded them both in a firestorm of sensation. She arched, taking him as deeply as she could, her legs squeezing him tighter and tighter to her.

  A howl thundered from him, vibrating through her heart. Her own cry of completion joined his.

  Valgard collapsed on her, his head pillowed on her breasts. She wrapped him in her arms and locked her fingers in his silver hair.

  Her heart beat like a drum. Her breath came in gasps. After long moments, Valgard raised up on his elbows above her. A smile warmed his face, creating creases by his mouth.

  She raised her finger to trace them.

  "You are my mate now." His voice was serious, though his eyes held a light of happiness. "We will share everything."

  "Yes." The thought of sharing her life with him brightened her spirit in a way she’d never believed possible.

  "You’ll bear me cubs to carry on the mission of our people."

  "Children," she corrected him.

  "Words. Offspring." He quirked an eyebrow at her.

  "Yes, offspring."

  Valgard stroked her hair and kissed her tenderly. "We should begin the training now."

  "What training?" she asked, not really listening, but leaning into his caress, aching for more.

  "You have never changed before, have you?"

  She looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

  "Have you ever changed your form?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Not more of that fantasy."

  "It is no fantasy, Kira."

  She jerked her gaze back to his face. His voice had been hard, stern, and disappointed. That she had disappointed him made her ashamed. But still, he was talking nonsense.

  He raised up off her to stand at the end of the table. His beautiful body glowed in the afternoon sunshine filtering in through the small window.

  "If I show you, will you believe me?"

  Chapter Ten

  Fear raised gooseflesh on the back of her neck. What was he saying?

  "If I show you, will you believe me?" he repeated when her answer was too long in coming.

  "Of course, but--"

  Valgard shut his eyes and took a long, slow breath.

  Before her eyes, his hair grew longer, thicker and, amazingly, began to grow out all over his body. Silver strands shot from his chest. Darker ones mixed in on his shoulders and arms. His fingers curled. His nails grew longer.

  Kira sat up and slid back on the table, away from the sight. Away from him.

  His back curled, forcing him to his hands and knees. His handsome face disappeared in a tangle of fur and fang.

  The silver wolf from the glade stared at her. The eyes she now recognized.

  Valgard.

  He jumped up on the table with her and nuzzled her neck.

  She stared in disbelief into the silver eyes she now knew so well. Only now she did began to understand. Terror ripped her mind to shreds.

  "No. No." She jumped from the table and spun away from him. "It cannot be true."

  "But it is, sweet. You accepted me. Now you are my mate."

  "I never accepted ... this."

  She dashed around him and up the ladder to the loft. Curling on her cot, pulling her covers tight around her, she tried to push from her mind the sight of Valgard transforming into a beast, an animal. How could she accept--

  "May I come up?" Valgard, the man, poked his head over the edge of the floor.

  "No. Go away. I don’t want you."

  "It’s too late for that, sweet. We are mated. Forever."

  "I refuse to be bound to an unnatural thing. I want no part of you."

  Valgard pursed his lips for a moment. "Perhaps I am unnatural. But then, so are
you."

  "No." She could not, would not accept that.

  "Your parents were both of our people. They were great warriors, and your shame of what we are dishonors their sacrifice."

  She was about to reply when he tipped his head and sniffed.

  "Skarp," he growled. "Stay here and put the bar on the door. I shall return."

  His silver mane disappeared as he descended the ladder. She stayed on her cot until she heard the door shut behind him and the latch fall into place.

  What should she do? She could not accept him now. His power frightened her, almost as much as the knowledge he believed she, too, had the power.

  Her head shook in denial. No, she was not unnatural. She was not a werewolf. She would not accept it, no matter how her heart broke that she would never again know the bliss of Valgard’s embrace.

  She looked around the now silent cottage.

  "I can’t stay here." A decision formed in her mind. She would leave, return to the village and live among real people. What she would do to provide for herself, she didn’t know, but the Spirit would show her the way.

  Kira grabbed the blanket from her cot and began to pack the things she would take with her to her new life.

  Skarp padded around the glade, his snout raised to the breeze. He’d caught the scent of mating. The two who followed him stayed well away, knowing him well enough not to interfere as he sought the scent again.

  There it was. Damn Valgard. Only this morning had he learned the old woman was dead. How could the bastard have gotten there first?

  "Master, what do you sense?"

  "Valgard has had the woman. She is his mate."

  Hrut shook his fuzzy face.

  "Then we must kill her?"

  Skarp cocked his head and thought for a moment. It seemed a waste. There was one male who had abandoned his mate and the Light and joined them. He wondered if the woman could also be turned. She was young and inexperienced in the ways of their people. Perhaps she could be convinced to renounce her mating with Valgard and take a new mate?

  Decided, he trotted back to Hrut and Oddbar.

  "We will attempt to turn her first. If she refuses, then we will kill her. And Valgard, too. Especially Valgard. He has interfered with me once too often."