She did not hear his footsteps, but she knew that he had left, knew she was there alone.
She sat by the fire until her eyelids grew heavy, and then she sought her blankets.
She was on the brink of sleep when a cold nose pushed against her hand. "Magick, is that you?"
The wolf whined softly as he stretched out beside her.
Channa Leigh sat up, her fingers searching for the knife she had placed nearby. "I need a bit of your fur," she said as her hand closed over the blade. She let out a soft cry of pain as the sharp blade pricked her palm. Taking hold of the handle with one hand, she gathered a bit of the wolf's fur in the other. Able to see now, she cut off some of the wolf's fur and placed it in the leather pouch.
"Thank you, Magick."
The wolf whined softly and licked her cheek.
'Tomorrow I am to see his face," she remarked, stroking the wolf's neck. "Will I find it frightening, do you think? Sometimes, when he is near, I feel so strange. Not afraid, exactly," she mused, and then paused. 'I don't know how to explain it. Maybe a little of what I feel is fear," she admitted.
"He is so powerful. I felt it today, in the valley. I was glad I could not see then."
The wolf looked up at her expectantly.
"No walk tonight." She slid under the covers and the wolf stretched out beside her.
He watched her steadily until she fell asleep; then he transformed into his own shape. Picking up the pouch, he walked away into the darkness.
CHAPTER 10
She woke with the warmth of the sun on her face and a sense of anticipation. On the morrow, he had said, when the sun is new, we shall look upon each other.
Throwing the covers aside, she sat up. "My lord?"
"I am here, Channa Leigh."
" 'Tis dawn."
"Aye. Are ye ready?"
"Aye," she replied tremulously. "I am."
"Hold out your hand."
She did as he asked, her fingers closing over something soft. She started to ask what it was, but then she knew. It was the wolf's fur, twisted into a tight braid.
She felt his hand close over hers.
"I am Darkfest," he said, his voice soft yet ringing with power. "Master of fire and light. Believe, Channa Leigh, and receive thy sight."
Heat flowed into her hand, raced up her arm. She trembled as his power poured into her, as warm as the sunlight on her face. She blinked and blinked again as her vision cleared. Looking up, she saw him watching her.
He wore a black shirt open at the throat and black trousers tucked into supple black boots. A long black cloak fell from his broad shoulders. She had not expected him to be handsome, but he was. Undeniably so. Why hadn't her father told her? Darkfest's hair fell past his shoulders, thick and black. His brows were slightly arched, his nose straight, his lips full. His expression was stern but not cruel. But it was his eyes that held her gaze. Green eyes that were familiar somehow. He was tall, as she had expected. She was sorely tempted to run her hands over his shoulders, to press her palms to his chest. She folded her arms tightly over her br**sts to keep from reaching for him. His arms were long and well muscled, his hands large and capable-looking.
"How is it possible that I can see?" She glanced at the bit of braided fur in her hand. "How long will it last?"
"Until sundown."
"No longer?"
He shook his head. The power in the cuttings of the wolf's fur grew weaker with time.
"What sort of magic is it that grants me my sight?"
"The power that lies in the hair of the wolf." Odd, he thought, that in his human form he lacked the same ability. "The power within your own blood. I wove the two of them together, then cast a spell upon it, to quicken it."
"My blood? Where did you get my blood?"
"It was on the blade of the knife." He did not tell her how tantalizing he had found the scent of her blood or how frightened he had been at the way it called to him. Nor did he tell her that he had licked her blood from the knife. It had sizzled through him like the purest fire. The memory of it thrilled him even as it repulsed him, and he shook it from his mind to examine more closely later, when he was alone.
"And now, Channa Leigh," he said quietly. "Will ye now grant me my boon?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as he sat down beside her. Moving slowly, he slipped his arm around her waist, his hand splayed over her stomach.
Her heartbeat grew rapid. Her mouth grew dry. Every nerve in her body seemed to come alive as she waited for his kiss. He lowered his head toward hers. He kept his eyes open, and so did she. His eyes were as green as the leaves on the trees. They drew her in, made her think of cool spring nights under starry skies. His kiss was light, his lips warm and firm. He demanded nothing of her, only the touch of her lips against his. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She deepened the kiss. His eyes grew darker. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer.
With a sigh, her eyelids fluttered down and she leaned in to him, her hands spreading across his back, her fingers kneading his flesh.
He groaned softly. Lifting her onto his lap, he kissed her again, his tongue stroking her lower lip, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her.
It was a kiss unlike any she had ever known. It burned away the memory of Ronin's chaste kiss and forever after spoiled her for any other.
She was breathless when they parted. Feeling bereft, she stared into his eyes, felt herself falling into the clear emerald depths. She felt the whisper of his power slide over her skin, heard the echoes of his lonely childhood, saw the small Cimmerian corner of his soul where his uncertainty lived, but before she could explore it further he drew his gaze away from hers.
"Something troubles you," she said, her voice tinged with amazement.
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What makes ye say that?"
"I saw it when I looked into your eyes. There is a dark place deep within you."
He did not deny it.
"What is it that troubles you?"
Lifting her from his lap, he stood and began to pace.
She sat down on her blankets and looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "Will you not tell me?"
"There is a darkness within me," he admitted. "More than the darkness of uncertainty. It is a love for the shadows of the night, for the dark magic that lingers just below my awareness." He held out his hands, palms up, and stared down at them. "The darkness calls to something within me that I do not understand. Sometimes…" He dragged his hand over his jaw, wondering how to explain the unexplainable.