“I can’t see the bottom,” he said cautiously.
“It’s deep, but the water’s warm, and so am I, come in,” she motioned again.
He plunged in feet first, a great splash of water covered her as she laughed. She wrapped her arms around Thor and kissed him hard on the mouth. Her heart was light and she was so glad to see him.
“Apart only a night and my heart ached for you so,” she said breaking their kiss. His hands glided down her back to cup the smooth curve of her waist.
“It was the same for me, Mackenzie. I almost didn’t leave you, it’s as if being out of your presence is painful.”
They kissed again. The warm spring water lapped their skin. Mackenzie’s heart pounded as their kiss went from light and tender, to hard and intense. Her hands roamed his body, feeling every inch of his thick muscles, his strong arms and his face.
She paused for a second. “Here,” she pointed, there was a rock ledge that jutted out. She pushed him onto it, as tall as he was, the top of his legs were out of the water.
She crawled between them and kissed him again. She pushed him back against the dirt bank as she worked her way down his neck, to his chest. Her skin tightened everywhere, her stomach clenched, she couldn’t help the way she felt and she didn’t want to. She took one of his nipples in her mouth and sucked gently as her hand roamed between his legs and she found his manhood.
With deliberate pressure, she dragged her hand down his cock, eliciting delightful moans from him. She slid down, back into the water, so that she was eye level with his member. She’d never been so close to one before, it was thick, hard and long. She pulled back the foreskin to reveal the head and she wondered what it must taste like. She lifted herself up slightly and put the head in her mouth, letting her tongue gently swirl around it.
Thor’s whole body froze as a long moan of pleasure escaped his lips. She smiled around her full mouth at knowing she was bringing him such rapture. His hand cupped the back of her head and pushed her further down. She licked, sucked and swirled her way till she felt it hit the back of her throat, it caused her to gag a little, so she pulled back, his hand of course let her. She took a breath, his seed strung from her mouth to his cock.
“Oh god, Mackenzie,” he said with eyes that burned with lust.
“Ye like that then?”
He slid into the water with ferocious speed. He spun her and pushed her torso down on the small rocky outcropping. With one hand, he held her waist, the other he pushed on her back. She lifted her hips and he plunged his oak-like tool into her pussy. She sighed as he filled her. His urgency persisted as he rammed himself into her. Soon, his breath came in gulps, hers in screams as she felt her passion grow and blossom.
“Oh, fuck me, Thor, don’t stop,” she moaned. His hardness and rhythm blended with her, she could only feel him inside her, and the lightning that struck each time his tip slammed into her insides.
“Oh god, oh god, oh ahhhhhh,” she screamed as her back arched and her insides melted. Wave after wave of thunder crashed around inside her. Everything vanished, the forest, the water, even Thor, all she could feel was the unbelievable pleasure between her legs.
Thor grunted and slammed hard into her. His orgasm filled her with warmth. Her mind sighed as her joy at bringing him to such pleasure triggered a second, quieter, but all the same wonderful, orgasm in her body.
CHAPTER TEN
Mackenzie moved through the underbrush in the north woods without making a sound. Her feet somehow, without her telling them to, seemed to know exactly where to step to be silent. She crouched low, her mother’s sword in one hand, as she circled her prey.
She pondered the abilities the wolf, Freya, gave to her. Her strength was many times greater, she could smell, see, and feel so much more than she used to. While she hoped that she was still herself, she knew some of her outlook changed as well as her body. Animals were prey, the very idea of hunting them got her juices flowing. Her mouth watered at the thought of sinking her teeth into the flank of a deer.
Then there was her seemingly un-earned ability to walk silent through the woods. Mackenzie wasn’t a big girl, five and a half feet tall and weighed no more than she should. Some in the village remarked to her da that she was too skinny; he always told them that it was her mother's heritage. And it was.
Thor explained to her that she was born a wolf; his bite only freed her.
“The gods blessed our people many turns of the earth ago, more than my grandfather's grandfather can remember. Each child born to us is raised with the knowledge that when they are sixteen, the wolf will come out and they will be a full member of the family,” he explained while they relaxed in the warm springs.
She shuddered with the memory of the ecstasy, her insides doing a little flip to remind her they approved. A little guilt followed, they tarried at the spring for an entire day, making love in the water, talking, more love making. Before too long, night fell and neither of them were eager to be apart again, but they must.
Thor argued with her, vehemently in fact.
He was probably right if I were to think about this clearly. Why am I blindly following her, what if she is mad, or evil, what then?
Freya’s plan involved Mackenzie tracking the Revenaugh; once she found him, she didn’t know. Freya declined to share that part but she was adamant that only Mackenzie could go.
“Please Thor, watch over my people, my da. If Kirkpatrick comes early, help them,” she pleaded, her big blue eyes nearly filled with tears.
He looked down at her for a long moment. She could see the struggle within. When they first met, she thought of him a man, wizened and older, now though, she knew the truth. He was brave, courageous, patient and strong, but he was barely older than her.
“Okay, I will, but how will your da know it’s me if I have to help?” It was a good question, and one Mackenzie was ready for.
From behind her back, she produced a small braid of blond hair, “I made this for ye, for luck, and if ye have to, show it to me da, he’ll know.”
That was it. They said their goodbyes, though that took a while. Mackenzie licked her lips at the thought; she could still taste his savory sweetness in her mouth. She didn’t even know she could do that, not that Thor complained. He seemed more stunned than anything else.
Her thoughts returned to the present when she heard a branch snap. Her keen senses went on high alert, her breath froze and she didn’t even tremble in the cold wind. Freya told her that the Revenaugh would want an offering, a stag’s head to be precise. She hunted her prey as a human since she was certain that if she did it as a wolf, there would be nothing left of the beast to offer.
The magnificent buck darted into view. It sniffed the air but Mackenzie cleverly waited downwind from it. Once it was satisfied, it bent down to eat the grass. Mackenzie had no bow, only her sword and her wits. Her mouth watered just looking at the deer, but she held her wolf in check. She crept forward, one foot at a time; each step bringing her closer to her kill. Her stomach tightened with anticipation, her bosom swelled with each slow breath, her every instinct drove her to savagely rip it apart with her teeth.
I’m not an animal, I will do this my way, or not at all.
She could feel Freya’s presence in her mind, though the spirit said nothing. Inch by precious inch she drew closer. If the stag smelled her, or heard anything, it would run, and while Mackenzie was much faster than she used to be, she couldn’t catch it on two feet.
The stag froze, lifting its nose to the slight breeze that ruffled the trees. Mackenzie didn’t stop; she just needed two more steps. Whatever it smelled, it didn’t like. Mackenzie sensed that it was about to spring away. She leaped forward, sword in both hands bringing the blade down on… empty air. The stag was already twenty feet away and disappearing in the under brush.
“Dammit,” she swore aloud.
“What did I do wrong, Freya? I know yer there, answer me, woman,” she said angrily.
You waite
d too long. When you’re that close, it’s much easier for them to smell you. Wolves attack with a leap from the shadows, and if the prey bolts, we run it down. Turn, Mackenzie, and we will chase it down together.
“I’m not a wolf, I’m a girl,” she muttered, forgetting that she didn’t have to speak with her mouth.
You’re both, and if you refuse the wolf, it will make it that much harder for me to save you and your people.
She took a deep breath and let her anxiety at losing the prey dim somewhat.
I’m not refusing ye, but you know that I must learn to do things both ways, no problem will ever be solved by me being only a wolf, or only a girl.
She could tell Freya was still there, lurking the back corner of her mind though she remained silent. Mackenzie shook out her jitters. She could see the tracks plainly enough, something she could never have done before. She needed to decide if she was going to track the same one or start looking for a new one.
You are a wise woman, Mackenzie, I would call you girl no more, few would instinctively grasp what you just have. You’re right of course, forgive this old she-wolf, I’ve been in one form for too long.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Freya, ye're doing yer best to help me, and I need all the help I can get.”
There was no response, and Mackenzie felt her presence leave. It was all the same; she had a buck to track. A grin split her face, the thrill of the hunt excited her, and she was ready for it. With a snarl, she leapt into the forest, following the trail the buck left.
*
The buck’s decapitated head lay at her feet. Her sword arm dripped blood from the fresh kill. Her stomach growled with anticipation of the feast. It didn’t take long to start a fire and roast the haunches over an open flame. She briefly considered just eating it as is but that felt wrong somehow. If she were to have two lives, the wolf, and the woman, she would have to make a strong effort to behave like each.
The wolf’s instincts were strong in her, difficult to deny, the will required so much that the moments left a sheen of sweat on her skin.
“No,” she snarled to the fire, “I’m still a woman, not a wolf.” She sat down and watched the flame jump and swirl as it reached up to cook the deer. The pink streaks of light left by the setting sun were soon replaced by a dark sky full of twinkling stars.
Her stomach growled and she decided the deer was done enough. It tasted delightful as she tore meat from the bone. The world went hazy as she ate. All her focus was on the taste of the deer, the smell of cooked meat, the juices that flowed down her face.
Things slowly cleared, nothing was left but a husk on the ground.
I told you, you cannot deny your hunger, if you do, well…
“I didn’t even realize I was doing it, like I had no control, is that what you meant?”
Yes, you will eat everything and everyone around you until you are full. You need to eat a lot more as a wolf than as a human. Your abilities come with a price, dear girl.
There was a strange note of affection in Freya’s voice, one that echoed in Mackenzie’s own mind. It was like they were sharing something that touched each other’s soul.
Freya’s presence left her alone. She sat by the fire, warmed by its dancing flames. The world seemed much bigger to her now, bigger than she ever dreamed. She pondered what Freya had said, about eating everyone… that must have happened to her. Mackenzie instinctively understood that it could happen to her as well. When she shifted, it wasn’t just her body that changed, her mind changed as well. She just didn’t only look like a wolf, she thought like one. Her life became about the prey, and no other real thoughts came into play.
Thor, I wish you were here with me, to keep me warm. I hope my da is okay.
She threw more wood on the fire, enough to keep it going for several hours before lying down next to it. Sleep didn’t come easy for her.
***
She awoke with a start, her eyes snapped open and she rolled into a crouch, her teeth bared like a wolf. A low growl reverberated through the air and she realized it was coming from her. Two men, mountain people, were just on the edge of the camp, one had a net, the other a spear.
“Take it easy girl, we don’t want to hurt you, just sit down and let us put this net on you,” the one with the spear said. They were thickly built with scraggly hair and beards, They had the thick bearskin cloaks of the northern clans and a mismatch of tartans. As far as Mackenzie could tell, they had no clan. As a child, they were told stories about those that roam the far north, barbarians really, ancient pics, or cast off Roman soldiers who survived off of raiding and pillaging. None had ever come to Caern Weir that she knew of.
“I’m Mackenzie Weir, of Clan Weir, daughter to the chief, and sword maiden,” she said between clenched teeth. “Come at me if you dare,” she threatened.
The two men smirked.
“Lass, yer going to be warming me bed tonight, and for a long time to come, that's who ye are,” he said.
“So be it,” she countered.
She rolled forward over her sword, then picked it up as she came to a stand. The blade flashed out. The men were taken back but they didn’t retreat. They circled her; the one with the net went right, the other left. Her wolf told her that this was dangerous, that fighting two opponents like this only led to defeat. Whoever she turned to face the other would attack.
The spear put her at a severe disadvantage, its length countered her sword, and he could always stab at her ankles to wound her.
She charged him. He lunged with his spear, both hands on it in a powerful skewer. Her sword came up and slapped the spear aside. She spun and brought the blade hard against his shoulder. For sixteen years, her mother’s sword had adorned the throne room. Yet, it was still as sharp as a wolf’s fang and it bit to the bone. The man screamed, dropped his spear and grasped his nearly severed arm.
As she took a step away from him, the net came down on her. The weighted ends wrapped around her, and the fine mesh tangled with her sword.
“Skewer the bitch, we can find another,” yelled the wounded one.
The last man pulled a long dagger from his belt. He approached her with care. Mackenzie tried to bring her sword up, but the blade was pinned to her side by the net. She screamed in frustration and rage, a scream that turned into a howl as the man sunk his dagger deep into her stomach.
Intense pain made her vision go red and her heart felt like it would explode from her bosom. He pulled the dagger out. Mackenzie fell to her knees from the pain. Her legs felt weak and her breathing came in short, shallow gulps.
“Not so fancy with yer sword now, are ye?”
She looked up to the man who stood over her; he twirled his dagger in the air, her own blood dripping from it. A burning anger ignited deep within her. A rage unlike any she had ever felt. A fire that burned away the pain, fear and doubt.
A low, dangerous growl slipped from her throat, the kind that made men’s blood freeze, and their hackles rise.
With a strength she never imagined she had, she burst the net around, the fibers tearing, unable to contain her force. With both hands, she raised her sword high above her head and brought it down on the man’s wrist. The dagger, and the hand holding it, fell to the ground. She spun and plunged the sword into his chest before he had time to scream about his hand. The blade bit to the hilt and wedged itself into the bone. He collapsed.
“Gods in heaven, what are ye?” the spear holder said.
Mackenzie turned her clear blue eyes on him. “I am death,” she said. In one step she turned to her wolf, she couldn’t have stopped the transformation if she tried. The man screamed in fear, turned and ran as fast as he could. Mackenzie could smell the fear on him. Her instincts took over and she ran him down. She slammed into his back, a mass of claws, teeth and snarls. He screamed as she bit into him.
“Stop, spare me please,” he yelled in horror.
She found the spot at the back of his neck, placed her jaw around it and snapped th
em shut. His screamed stopped as his neck broke.
Satisfied that she was in no more danger, Mackenzie trotted back to her small camp. She stopped by the body of her first kill, her mind catching up with what she had done. In between beats of her heart, she turned back into the girl. She looked down at the body, unable to comprehend the level of violence she had brought to bear. She sat promptly on her ass and sobbed. Her whole body shook as tears washed her face.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The snow collected on Mackenzie’s shoulders while she waited. The rock she had picked out stood taller than any other in the ravine that was home to the Revenaugh. Though years had passed since the last time it bothered the village, she was still stunned at the distance she covered before she found its lair.
Two days, two whole days, anything could have happened by now!
Freya quietly chided her for impatience. Mackenzie could feel her other like a ghostly limb that she couldn’t see, only feel. She waited though, quietly, in the snow, watching. The giant cave the boar called home stood fifty feet from her. Its mouth was wide enough for several grown men to walk into shoulder to shoulder. She had never seen the beast, she had only heard stories, and if it was as big as the cave, the stories didn’t lie.
Her breath turned to steam as it left her mouth. The snow didn’t bother her, though it should, she thought. Her body seemed to keep itself warm. She closed her eyes and thought of Thor, her dearest love, far away, possibly fighting by now. She prayed to whoever would listen that he and her da would be safe.
Listen, Freya said.
She closed her eyes to shut out the world. Her ears picked up the angry snarls and snorts. She opened her eyes in time to see him emerge from the cave. The stories didn’t do the great boar of the north justice. Six feet tall at the shoulders, and she could only guess that he weighed as much as twenty men. His massive tusks dragged on the ground until he lifted his head to look at the sun.
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