His scowl deepened. Ronin could find another lass. As for himself, in three hundred years he had never seen another woman he wanted or desired. Only Channa Leigh had touched his heart, quickened his need, aroused his desire until it beat within him like the beat of his own heart.
He rose, glad, at that moment, that she could not see the clear evidence of his desire.
She lifted her head. "My lord?"
"I'm going to saddle the horses and load the mule," he said, his voice curt. " 'Tis time to go."
He was in a foul mood the rest of the day, unable to shake off images of Channa Leigh in Ronin's arms. Channa Leigh, cleaning the hunter's house, preparing his meals, sleeping in his arms at night. Ha, the craven hunter was not worth a single hair of her head.
Hands clenched around the reins, Darkfest swore he would see the hunter dead before he would allow Channa Leigh to be his bride. And yet, if she loved Ronin, what right did he have to interfere? What right did he have to keep her from the man she loved? What right, except that he loved her himself, loved her beyond bearing. But she was his now. His until winter cast her shadow upon the land once more. In his heart, he knew it would not be long enough.
Channa Leigh rode beside the wizard, baffled by his silence, by the anger she had heard in his voice earlier that day. She cast back in her mind but could think of nothing she had said or done to rouse his ire. Still, he had not spoken a word to her since they left their camp that morning and she had no idea why.
Her horse came to a halt a short time later. Channa Leigh's heart began to pound when she felt Darkfest's hands at her waist as he lifted her from the saddle.
"Is everything all right?" she asked.
He grunted softly. " 'Tis time to seek shelter for the night."
"My lord?"
"Aye?"
She took a deep breath. "Are you… are you angry with me?"
"Nay."
"Something is amiss. Will you not tell me what it is?"
"Ye need not worry."
"Was it my kiss?" she asked, grateful that she could not see his face. "Did it not please you?"
"Is that what ye think, lass?" he asked.
She nodded, lowering her head as heat suffused her cheeks.
Whispering her name, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her ever so gently. "Sweet," he murmured. "So sweet."
She swayed toward him, her hands resting on his chest. "More."
He willingly obliged her, his arms wrapping around her waist to draw her closer as he slanted his mouth over hers. Where his last kiss had been gentle, this one was filled with all the yearning in his soul. His tongue plundered her mouth, tasting the berries she had eaten earlier.
She boldly returned his kiss, made a soft sound of protest when he took his mouth from hers.
"Do ye love him?" Darkfest asked.
"Who?"
"The hunter, Ronin."
"Nay, my lord."
"And ye do not wish to marry him?"
"Nay, my lord, though he was my only hope."
"Another will wed ye."
She smiled up at him. "Know you who this stranger might be?"
"Ye will belong to me, lass," he said, the husky note of possession in his voice leaving no doubt that it would be so, "and to no one else."
"Are you asking me to marry you, my lord Darkfest?"
"Aye," he growled. "I'm asking." Pausing, he took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice had gentled. "Will ye let me love ye all the days of your life? Will ye share your happiness with me, and yer sorrows? Will ye help me to turn away the darkness? What be yer answer, lass?"
There was nothing to think about. There could only be one answer. No one else stirred her the way he did. No one else ever would. Her memory of Ronin burned away to ash in the fire that was Darkfest.
"I should be honored to be your wife, my lord," she murmured. "You will not harm Ronin?"
"There be no need now."
"You will not turn him into a newt should we meet in the square?"
"Nay, lass," he said, grinning.
"Nor a gopher?"
He laughed softly, charmed by her gentle humor and her genuine concern for the hunter.
"Think no more of him," he said, and drawing her into his arms once again, he kissed her, long and strong, driving everything else from her mind but the wonder of his kiss.
This was right, she thought. This was where she longed to be, where she was meant to be.
That night, when it was time for bed, she slept in his arms.
Darkfest groaned softly as the light of the morning sun played over his face. Opening his eyes, he squinted against the brightness. More and more these last days, he had been bothered by the sun's glare. It made his skin feel strange, as if it was shrinking.
He had rarely spent so much time out-of-doors. At home, his days were spent within the thick gray walls of his castle. When he felt the need to go out, it was usually long after sunset. He stayed up long past midnight, preferring to sleep the day away.
Beside him, Channa Leigh slept peacefully, her cheek resting on one hand, her mouth curved in a mysterious smile. Was she dreaming of him? Did he dare walk in her dream? If she was dreaming of another, did he want to know?
He shook off his jealousy. She had said she loved him and he believed her. Deceit was unknown to Channa Leigh.
The curve of her cheek drew his hand. Lightly, so lightly, he brushed his fingertips against her skin. So soft. So warm. His gaze moved over her face, slid down the slender column of her throat to rest on the pulse beating there.
Almost, he could hear the beat of her heart, hear the blood thrumming through her veins.
With a shake of his head, he rolled to his feet, troubled by the dark thoughts rising up within him.
As if bereft of his company, Channa Leigh awoke. "My lord?"
"I am here."
She sat, one hand reaching out for him.
Hunkering down on his heels, he took her hand in his. "Something troubles ye?"
"I… I dinna know. I was dreaming. It was a lovely dream, at first. And then…" She frowned. "I dinna know what happened, but suddenly the world was dark and I was afraid."
"Dark?" He frowned. She was always in darkness.
"I dinna know how to explain it. It was not a lack of vision, but a lack of light. Do you understand?"
"Aye, lass." He understood all too well. The darkness she spoke of was the darkness that dwelled within him, but how did she know of it? If she stayed with him, would it begin to overshadow her, as well? Troubled by that thought, he released her hand and rose to his feet.