by Donna Grant
“I do not know. I’ll sort through that when Andi returns. Until then, we have a long walk ahead of us.”
That made her grin. “Lead the way. I have no skirts to hamper me.”
Hungry eyes traveled down her legs. “I’m aware.”
Helena laughed as Jarin turned and began walking. Just hours before, she had been fearful of leaving the cave. Now, she was laughing. Things had changed so swiftly. But she wasn’t alone anymore. She had thought she was fine on her own, but she’d been wrong.
Valdr brushed past her as he hurried after Jarin. Not to be left behind, Helena ran, her smile widening at the freedom the pants gave her.
“I love wearing trousers,” she said when she caught up with Jarin.
He glanced at her. “Have you given up gowns for good?”
“I do not think so.”
Talking ceased as they moved swiftly. Every once in a while, Jarin slowed to a walk. Twice they halted to rest, drinking heavily from the waterskin. Helena was amazed at how much ground they’d covered.
By noon, they found a cluster of trees to rest beneath. Helena delved into her bag and pulled out a loaf of bread, some cheese, and dried meat. They set aside the cheese and ate the meat first. She tore off some bread for each of them.
There were clouds in the sky, but the temperature was warmer than it had been in days. After such exertion, sitting still too long made her cold. Oddly enough, she was eager to get back to moving to stave off the chill.
She looked up to find Jarin watching her. “What is it?”
“I was wondering if the Coven is searching for all witches who have escaped them or only you.”
“Oh.” She’d hoped he wanted to talk of other things, but how could they when they had such worries? “Part of me hopes it is all witches because then they haven’t singled me out. Then again, I would hate for anyone to be hunted by the Coven.”
“Edra knows what it feels like.”
“She spoke a little about the seven years she ran from them while we waited for my bath. She finally took a stand, as well. I can only hope my outcome is as good as hers.”
Jarin gave her a confused look. “It will be better.”
They remained for another twenty minutes before they were up and alternating running with walking as before. Valdr was never far from them, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, his ears perked.
The hours passed, and the sun sank. Perhaps it was because Helena now had a mission, something to plan for and focus on instead of just running. Maybe it was because she was with Jarin, but it was the best day.
It had begun on a tenuous note, but with every step, she felt more confident, more self-assured. There was a smile on her face when Jarin slowed them to a walk again.
The steep peaks turned into rolling hills. Jarin had taken them south, but she couldn’t figure out to where. She trusted him, though. He had been seeking witches for years and had no doubt been all over England and Scotland.
They reached the edge of the forest, and she gasped, her feet halting when she saw it.
Jarin nodded toward the large structure. “That is where we will await the Coven.”
“Stonehenge? Why?”
He continued walking. “The Celts favored it.”
“And?” she asked, jogging to catch up with him.
“The Varroki are Norse and Celtic. I know how powerful that ground is for me.”
That’s when it dawned on her. “As a Witch’s Grove is for the Coven.”
He shot her a grin. “With the right spells within the stones, I might be able to temper the power of the staff if Sybbyl comes.”
“Doesn’t the fact that she has the Staff of the Eternal mean that the entire Coven is stronger?”
Jarin gave a snort and shot her a flat look. “I do not imagine that any Coven member would share power.”
Helena hadn’t thought about that. “You think she’ll come?”
“If she’s the one looking for you, then aye. If not, I’m sure destroying whatever witches she sends will be enough to get her here.”
The closer Helena got to the megalith, the more at peace she felt. When they finally reached it, she paused beside one of the giant rocks and placed her hand on it.
“It...feels as if it’s humming,” she said.
Jarin passed between two stones and made his way to the center. “They vibrate with magic. Usually, only the Celts and the Varroki can feel it.”
His words surprised her. She followed him to the center where there was another large slab placed horizontally on another piece of rock. “I am neither a Celt nor a Varroki.”
“Are you sure of that?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure of much anymore.
15
Jarin couldn’t take his eyes off Helena as she walked among the stones. Based on the way she stared in awe and touched with such reverence, she was mesmerized by them.
He knew witches. He’d encountered all kinds, and the one thing he was certain of was that Helena was different than all of them. He longed to see her use magic to confirm it.
“We are safe here,” he said.
Her red head swung to him. “You say that as if I questioned it.”
“I say it, so you will comprehend that this place is magical.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Then it will shield our magic?”
“Aye,” he said before pointing his staff at the ground. Fire erupted from the earth, sparks flying upward from the burst.
She walked to him, her lips parted and her gaze on his face. “Do magic again.”
He frowned, confused, yet he did as she requested. The words in his head went through his hands and into his staff where magic lit the end. The flames soared higher.
Helena halted before him and slowly reached up to touch his cheek. “Your eyes go white when you do magic.”
Being on his own so often had made him forget things such as that. But Helena didn’t seem repulsed by it. In fact, it seemed to captivate her.
“Does that happen to all Varroki?” she questioned.
He gave a shake of his head. “It is passed down through my father’s family. It is considered a gift among my people, but it makes it difficult to hide my magic when I am away from Blackglade.”
“I think it’s beautiful.”
Desire rose quickly, blood rushing to his cock so he was hard in an instant. Their first kiss had been beautiful, the second scorching. And he craved more.
It was all he thought about, all he wanted.
Helena. A witch with as much fire in her blood as in her vivid red locks. A woman with immense beauty and a soul so solid, so vibrant that it couldn’t be extinguished.
Her hand caressed down his jaw to come to rest upon his chest over his heart. “The Coven will not find us?”
His body burned like liquid fire. He physically ached from not touching her, not pulling her into his arms and tasting her kiss once more.
He vaguely realized that she had spoken, but it took him another few moments to put a response into actual words. “Not until we wish them to.”
“Then tonight is ours?”
“Aye,” he whispered, his blood pounding in his ears.
She moved back and untied her cloak before laying it near the fire. After flashing him a grin, she bent and removed her boots.
Jarin leaned his staff against one of the ancient pillars and took off his own boots with hands that shook—not from nervousness, but from need. He almost used magic to take away their clothes, but he liked the idea of getting a glimpse of her a little at a time.
If he could restrain himself.
Helena unfastened the vest over her shirt and tossed it aside. He then removed his vest. Next, she reached for her pants. His mouth went dry when he saw her lean legs. When it was his turn, he opted for his shirt, which he tugged over his head and discarded to the side.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes locked on his chest.
She moved toward him and raised her ha
nds. She hesitated before placing them on his chest. “Such intricate work.”
His eyes closed as she looked over his tattoo that covered his chest and upper back to his neck, and ran over his shoulders and down both arms to his wrists. He had chosen the design himself. It was both Norse and Celtic knotwork with a Viking wolf head on either pectoral.
“What does it mean?” she asked as her fingers trailed along his back as she walked around him.
Her touch made it difficult for him to focus. He waited until she stood before him once more. His eyes opened, and he looked down at her. “It is my armor. Norse,” he said, pointing to the wolf heads and the Norse designs. Then he pointed at the other knotwork. “And Celtic. Every Varroki warrior has such armor.”
For long moments, she continued to caress the skin covered with the tattoo. Finally, she stepped away and met his gaze. With slow movements, she gathered her shirt that fell to her hips in her hands. Then she lifted her arms over her head, pulling it off.
Jarin’s mouth went dry at the sight of her. Her skin was the color of cream, a direct contrast to the vivid red of her hair and green eyes.
Her breasts were full, her pink nipples already turgid. Jarin couldn’t wait to run his hands down her body to the indent of her waist and over the swell of her hips before cupping her ass.
“I have never seen anything more beautiful,” he murmured.
Jarin stole her breath again and again. With his hungry looks, as well as his words. Then there was his body. She couldn’t get her fill of it. The thick muscles covered by the tattoo that was as much a part of him as Valdr and Andi.
The cool wind didn’t touch her, she was so heated from her desire. She licked her lips, waiting for Jarin to remove his breeches. She could make out the impressive outline of his arousal, and she wanted to see all of him.
Finally, he unfastened his trousers and slowly pushed them down his legs before stepping out of them. Her lips parted as she took in the size of his rod. Belatedly, she glanced down at his legs dusted with blond hair and corded with muscles.
While she wasn’t well versed in sex, she also wasn’t inexperienced. And she knew she wanted Jarin. She never understood why others fought their attraction. If two people were unattached to anyone else and attracted to one another, why shouldn’t they find pleasure in each other’s arms?
She held out her hand to him, noting that hers shook a little. His fingers touched hers, softly, gently. Then, he jerked her to him, wrapping his thick arms around her and slanting his mouth over hers to kiss her as if there were no tomorrow.
He was tall, well built, and knew what he wanted. If she thought he would be hesitant or clumsy, she was so very wrong. He was the opposite.
Jarin lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist while their frantic kissing continued. When he knelt down then leaned over to lay her on her back, she shoved at his shoulder until he relented and allowed her control.
She ended the kiss when she had him on his back, straddling his hips. His pale blue eyes stared up at her with such raw longing that her heart skipped a beat.
Helena bent over and kissed his neck and then his chest. She slid her body down as her mouth moved lower over his abdomen and then to his hips. Her lips touched everywhere but his straining cock.
Her head lifted until she locked gazes with him. Then she wrapped her fingers around his rigid staff and moved her hands up and down the length.
His deep moan caused desire to tighten within her. She flipped her hair to one side as she lowered her head to him. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he watched her. She didn’t break eye contact, not even when she parted her lips and wrapped them around the head of his arousal.
Jarin’s eyes closed, and his hands fisted in her cloak as she took him deeper into her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down with the movement of her hands as she pleasured him. His hips moved in time with her while his breathing grew harsher with every heartbeat.
She had always loved the decadence of pleasuring a man’s arousal. To have him begging for release or panting for more, she was the one making the decisions, the one deciding how much enjoyment to give.
“Helena,” Jarin groaned.
She paused and raised her head to look at him. His body was straining, fighting the desire she wished to give him. He grasped her shoulders and jerked her up his body to take her lips.
No one had ever kissed her as he did. Jarin made her forget everything when his mouth was on hers. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t realize she was on her back, his body between her legs until his hand was fondling her breast.
She gasped when he thumbed a nipple. Desire shot straight down to her sex, making it clench. Her hips rocked against him when his mouth latched on to her breast, and he began to suckle her nipple.
His lips moved from one breast to the other, teasing her until her breasts were swollen and her nipples aching for more. Then he kissed down her body, locking his gaze with hers as she had done him.
Helena bit her lip when he grabbed hold of her hips and hovered his mouth over the red triangle of curls at the juncture of her thighs. His gaze grew fierce, heated with a promise of pleasure right before he spread her woman’s lips and put his tongue on her.
Her breath left her in a rush. Only once before had a man touched her in such a way. Warmth spread through her, flushing her body and causing desire to tighten low in her belly. She arched her back when he found her clit, his tongue circling around the swollen nub.
The way his tongue, so soft and slippery, held her at his mercy made her ache to have him inside her. He knew the most sensitive parts to tease, how to push her ever closer to peaking. If only he would suck harder, she might find release.
He could feel her body quivering beneath him. She had brought him to the brink of oblivion with her mouth, and he wanted to do the same for her.
To have her held in such thrall simply by licking and teasing her made him want to keep her in this state forever. Her soft moans drove him mad. And the way the firelight danced over her body as she undulated caused his balls to tighten even more.
As good as she tasted, he wanted to bury himself inside her, to feel her slick folds envelop him. Jarin continued teasing her with his tongue as he slowly pushed a finger inside her.
Her moans turned to soft cries as he worked his digit in and out of her. The more her hips rose, seeking deeper contact, the more he craved to be inside her.
He finally gave in and rose up on his hands over her. Her eyes opened. The desire, the blatant need he saw there made his breath catch.
Shifting his hips, he aligned the head of his cock against her. He moved forward, letting it slide over her sensitive clit. She cried out, her body jerking from the contact.
“Please, Jarin. I need you,” she urged.
He moved over her sex twice more before he slowly pushed inside her. The sight of her lips parted, and her eyes rolling back in her head nearly made him climax right then.
But Jarin clenched his teeth and moved his hips forward and back, sliding deeper and deeper until she had taken all of him. She wrapped her legs around him, locking her feet. He was so far gone that there was no holding back for him now.
He began to thrust, his tempo building until he was moving hard and fast. The moment Helena’s body stiffened, and he felt the first clench of her walls around his cock, he could no longer hold back his orgasm.
With her body clamping tightly around him, they climaxed together. He watched the pleasure wash over her face, felt her nails dig into his back.
He remained inside her until the last of her orgasm waned. Then he kissed her, stroking her face. She looked up at him and smiled softly.
Jarin pulled out of her and rolled onto his back. Helena moved with him, curling up against his side with her head on his chest. For the first time in years, he felt content, as if peace had finally found him.
He knew that even if Malene hadn’t revised the laws, he still would have taken Helena as his lover. T
he attraction that pulled them together was unrelenting as well as unavoidable. He could no more deny her than he could make his heart stop beating.
What Jarin did know was that he would do whatever it took to keep Helena away from the Coven. She was his, and he was hers. The bond was there, already tightly knit.
No one could break that.
16
Everything seemed to be brighter, more intense. Or perhaps it was just her. Helena watched the clouds drift lazily across the darkening sky. Jarin’s fingers lightly caressed her back, causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh, it felt so good.
Her gaze landed on Valdr, who lounged on the opposite side of the flames. With Jarin’s heartbeat in her ear, the popping of the fire, and the sounds of nature, Helena had never been more content.
At one point in her life, she had dreamt of a home with a husband to love and children to raise. That had been her goal. Even after all the years of wandering from one village to the next, staying only a few weeks before moving on again. The entire time, she had looked longingly at the homes people disappeared into at night to be with their families.
She’d had that once, and she was determined to have it again. Or she used to be. Being with Jarin had shown her that having a building to call home wasn’t everything, because she had all she wanted right then in the open air, staring at the beauty around her.
“It is so peaceful here,” she said.
Jarin put his free arm behind his head. “Most do not understand the standing stones. They fear what they do not know, so they stay away from them. Those are the ones missing out on what is within them.”
“I have seen some megaliths, but nothing like this.”
“They have stood for thousands of years and, hopefully, they will stand for thousands more.”
She loved listening to Jarin’s voice. The deep resonance was soothing. “I’m thinking about how much I’m enjoying being here, but you’re thinking of the Coven.”
“Actually, my thoughts are on you.”