The Moon Witch

by Linda Winstead Jones

  He pulled away slowly, giving that sensitive curve of her neck one last lick. In his eyes she saw something new and frightening. Lust.

  Juliet was innocent in the ways of love and intended to remain that way, but she did have knowledge of the mechanics of a man’s body. She did not look down to see if Ryn was truly aroused, but kept her eyes pinned to his. Her heart beat too fast, and she remained overly warm. Not because of the rocks that sheltered her from the wind, not because of the bearskin beneath her. It was Ryn’s touch that kept her warm.

  Ryn lifted his own hair from one side of his neck, and arched his eyebrows slightly in question, presenting his own skin for tasting. That offered neck was massive. Corded and muscled and surely warm. While she was momentarily and insanely tempted, Juliet shook her head quickly. Ryn dropped his hand and the hair without argument.

  “You will be safe here tonight,” he said as he stood and backed away.

  Her heart continued to thud. Safe? She was anything but safe here.

  “I will return in the morning.”

  Her head snapped up sharply. “Return? Where are you going?”

  Ryn smiled. He did have a nice smile, she conceded. For a wild, possibly crazy man, that is. “You will miss me,” he said.

  “I will not,” she countered.

  He turned and walked away, leaving her alone. Already her senses had begun to return, and she questioned why she had been so moved by his strange actions. Tasting, indeed.

  She didn’t like being left here alone, in a harsh place so far from civilization. Maybe Ryn’s departure was a trick of some kind, and if she moved from this spot, he’d spring out from behind a rock to surprise her. It was a test to see if she’d attempt to escape. Not at all interested in having a large man jump out and surprise her, she stayed put.

  All was quiet as night fell, as gray sky turned to black and only the light from a full moon lit the austere landscape. Juliet delved beneath the bedroll and found the animal-skin sack filled with apples and bunting fruit and dried meat. She ate just a little, even though her stomach was quite empty. If she was careful, the food here might last three or four days.

  After Juliet had eaten, she crept from her shelter and glanced around, standing and shaking off what little remained of the odd heat and sensations ignited by her captor’s tasting. She couldn’t see Ryn anywhere, but it was dark and there were plenty of large stones and dark shadows where he might be hiding. She glanced up. He could even be up there, watching and waiting.

  Juliet walked to the precipice and looked down. Ryn had carried her up that steep path, and for the life of her she could not understand how he had managed it. The footholds were widely spaced and treacherous, and yet he had not once stopped to catch his breath or question his way. If she tried to climb back down the way they’d come, she’d end up killing herself; of that she had no doubt. She needed no special powers to see that truth.

  The terrain was treacherous, and she did not know this part of the country at all. She didn’t know what waited around the next bend in the path, or if she’d be able to survive on her own for even a few days. There would be dangers in a place like this one. And still, something inside her screamed run. Since Ryn was carrying her north, they moved farther from civilization with every step. If she had any chance at all of finding the road that would take her home, she’d have to make her escape now. To run might be foolhardy and risky, but the alternative was to blithely accept Ryn’s insistence that she was his wife.

  Juliet studied her surroundings in search of an escape route. The clearing had three sides, and three distinct routes of exit. Steeply up, treacherously down, and over a crop of boulders that led north. She did not want to travel north, but if that was what it took to find a way down the mountain, that’s what she’d do.

  She collected the small sack of food and rolled up the bearskin, preparing herself for travel. Unfortunately the skin was too heavy for her to carry far, so she left it behind. She hugged her cloak to her cold body and lifted her face to the full moon, thankful that she would not be forced to travel in complete darkness to make her escape. The moon was so big here, so close. It seemed as if it hung almost upon her, walking closely with her as she fled.

  She climbed up a short ways and rounded the largest boulder to see before her a path of sorts. It was narrow and uneven, but wound more across than up or down. If she was very careful with her footing, she’d be well away from this place before morning and Ryn’s return. She would think of him kindly, she decided as she picked her way across the path, since he had inadvertently saved her from Bors and the emperor’s soldiers. He would find himself another wife, she was sure. One who wouldn’t mind spending her life with a man who wore practically nothing and who lived in caves and who insisted on tasting the women he rescued. Kidnapped, she meant to say. Kidnapped.

  After only a few minutes, the path took a decidedly upward turn. Juliet studied the way before her for only a moment before continuing on. If Ryn was so bold as to lick her tonight, then what did he have planned for tomorrow night? And the next night and the next? The thoughts of what might come spurred her upward, though the short climb was not an easy one and she was soon breathing heavily.

  The path ended abruptly, and once again she was faced with three choices. Up. Down. Back. Since the “up” this time was a rock face of no more than six or seven feet, she grabbed on to cold stone and hauled herself up a few inches. At least the exertion kept her warm. At the moment she didn’t feel the cold so much, except for the chill of the rock seeping into her fingers. She continued upward, hoping that once she’d reached the top of this ledge, she’d find another relatively easy path awaiting her.

  She grabbed on and pulled herself up again, so that she could indeed see what appeared to be a path before her.

  Movement out of the comer of her eye grabbed her attention and she went very still, standing precariously on a bit of stone so that only half her face cleared the top of the rock face. She thought of Ryn, of course, and then of the bearskin and the very large bear that had once been attached to it. What other creatures might live in these mountains? Creatures that would no doubt do more than lick her if she ran across them.

  It was not a bear that slithered into her line of vision, but a wolf. A huge, flaxen wolf with blazing golden eyes that were not fooled by her stillness. It came directly to her, walking majestically and with undeniable strength in its haunches.

  A man who is not a man. A beast who is not a beast. The words popped into her head, much as they had last night. It was rare for her to sense anything at all without touching, but whoever this unseen man was, he could slip into her mind with ease, or so it appeared.

  She jerked her head to the side, hoping to see that man on the edge of the forest. He was the wolf’s owner, perhaps, or more likely its companion, since she could not imagine such a creature deigning to be owned by anyone. Would that man who had followed her when she’d been in the control of the soldiers lead her toward safety and what was left of home, or would he declare her his wife in a ridiculous manner and toss her over his shoulder as if she had no say whatsoever in the matter?

  But apparently there was no man in the forest. She could not see or sense him. There was just the wolf, and after that initial connection that had struck her like the flat of a palm, her mind had gone quiet and still. Powerless. When Ryn had touched her, she’d felt very little. And now, the message she’d received made no sense to her. She had originally thought that Ryn possessed the ability to block her invasion in some way, but that might not be the case. No one had ever been able to do such a thing, and Sophie and Isadora had both tried on more than one occasion. Perhaps her abilities were failing. Did being so far away from civilization weaken her? If she moved far enough into the mountains, would she be free of her gift entirely? If she had thought that was possible, she would’ve moved into the wilderness years ago.

  The wolf lowered its head and sniffed at her. It made no aggressive moves, but seemed simply
curious. That encouraged Juliet. “Nice wolfie,” she said softly. “Would you like to be my friend? I could use a friend right about now. You can help me get out of here. What do you say?”

  The animal placed its nose close to Juliet’s and she held her breath. Stars above, it was huge! Much larger than she had imagined a wolf could be. A growl began deep in its throat and the wolf showed her its teeth. Large, sharp teeth. Lots of them. Juliet made her decision. Down.

  She moved downward quickly. Too quickly. Her foot missed a hold. She scrambled frantically for a moment, and then she lost her grip entirely. After falling for a brief and breathless moment, she landed hard upon the ground and the wind was knocked from her body. The wolf leapt down to land gracefully and powerfully beside her. Juliet closed her eyes as she waited for the wild animal to attack her. Eaten alive; it was not the way she had expected her life to end.

  But the animal did not attack. It stood there, studying her with those odd glowing eyes, and waited. Waited for what?

  Moving cautiously, so as not to alarm the animal, Juliet sat up and then rose to her feet. “Did you decide to be my friend after all?” She studied the rock face. She hated the prospect of making that climb again, but there was nothing to be done for it. She’d be sore in a few hours, thanks to the fall, but nothing was broken or twisted so there was no need to lie here and moan. She took a single step toward the rock face, and the wolf growled. She looked down at the animal as it moved to stand between her and the route of escape. After a moment it nudged her with its nose. When she didn’t move, it nudged again. A huge paw lifted to prod her thigh more forcefully.

  “What do you want?” she asked. Using its nose and its paws, the wolf made her turn about. Juliet faced the way she had come. “Surely you’re not—”

  A nudge to her backside sent her forward with a squeal. “Hey!” She glanced around. She didn’t know where Ryn was tonight, but it wouldn’t do for him to hear her yell. Especially since she was not where he had left her. “That’s very rude,” she whispered.

  It seemed almost as if the wolf was trying to force her back to the camp, but surely that was impossible. It was an animal, acting on instinct and instinct alone. When she turned toward the rock face, the animal growled and blocked her progress. When she turned toward camp, it remained silent and calm. To test her theory, she began to walk purposefully back toward the campsite she’d left behind. The wolf followed, but it did not growl or push. When she tried to turn back toward freedom, the wolf placed itself in her path and snarled a warning.

  “You’re Ryn’s wolf, aren’t you?” she said as she stared at the animal, who herded her back to camp. “He didn’t leave me unguarded after all. You have been on sentinel duty all along.” Of course he had left a guard. Had Ryn not said it was his place to protect her? To keep her safe? And all she had to do in return was agree to be his wife and comfort him. Never.

  As she walked back to camp, the wolf at her heels, Juliet formulated a plan. Maybe escape would not be as easy as she’d initially thought, but there would come a time when Ryn would trust her enough to leave her unguarded. Not tonight, and perhaps not tomorrow night, but eventually. They would not stay high on this mountain forever. He spoke of a home far away, and surely somewhere between here and there the opportunity for freedom awaited her.

  Isadora would try to fight her way out of such a situation, and likely be killed in the process. Sophie would get her way by using her charm and beauty. She might cry a little, or try to wheedle until she got her way. If that failed, she would attempt to run. And when Ryn caught her, she’d run again, as soon as the opportunity presented itself. In truth, if Sophie hadn’t fallen in love with Kane Varden, she’d probably consider being kidnapped by a wild man who professed to be her mate exciting.

  Isadora would fight; Sophie would run. But Juliet possessed one trait her sisters did not. Patience.

  She kicked the bearskin and rolled it out once again, then sat upon it. Moments later, the cold seeped through her cape and her dress, and she began to shiver. It was much colder here, high in the mountains, than it had been on the road to Arthes. She was exhausted, but how could she possibly sleep? As she lay on the bearskin bedroll, still at last, the cold crept beneath her gown and to her skin.

  Patience would get her through the next few days, until a route of escape presented itself to her. All she had to do was convince Ryn that she could not offer him comfort of any kind. He seemed determined not to harm her, and had even promised in a most convincing voice that he would never allow any other man to hurt her, either. Maybe she would eventually find a way to reason with him.

  She laid her eyes on the wolf, who stood just a few feet away. “Is Ryn a reasonable man? Will he listen with any concern to the wishes of a woman? Maybe if he wants to convince me that we’re fated to be together, he’ll be wary of making me angry or upset. I can use that, I think. I can pretend to accept my lot as his wife and twist him around my little finger.” Sophie could very easily do such a thing, but Juliet? She relied on practicality, and practicality would likely not help her now.

  Juliet rubbed her hands along her cold arms and shook off the chill that seeped into her bones. When that didn’t work, she lay down and wrapped herself in the bearskin, as if it were a cocoon. Still she shivered. The wolf moved closer, striding slowly forward with its golden eyes on Juliet. It stood very close for a moment, and then moved nearer. Had the wild animal just been waiting for her to be in a completely helpless position before attacking?

  “Ryn will be very unhappy if you eat me,” she said softly.

  But the wolf didn’t so much as bare its teeth. It lay down beside Juliet, so close its fur was pressed to the bearskin Juliet had wrapped herself within. Immediately the animal’s heat seeped through the bedroll and warmed her. The wolf rested its head on the ground and readjusted its legs so it was comfortable.

  The wolf smelled like an animal, which was to be expected. It was musky but clean, not at all unpleasant. Its fur was long and golden and beautiful, and if she could bear to move her hands from the warmth of the bearskin, she might be tempted to reach out and touch that fur, to stroke and discover if it felt as silky as it looked. The wolf’s heat soothed her, cradled her. The animal’s very presence calmed her.

  Juliet worked one hand free of her cocoon, and very slowly reached out to touch the wolf’s fur. The animal did not seem alarmed by the gesture, so she worked her fingers into the soft, silky hair and stroked gently. The golden fur was as warm and soft as it looked, and was much more welcoming than she had imagined it might be. While she stroked, the wolf closed its eyes and made a low sound of contentment, something between a growl and a purr.

  Juliet closed her eyes, too, and in a matter of moments she drifted to sleep with her fingers buried in the golden fur of the wolf who warmed her.

  Chapter Five

  It was the wolf’s absence that woke her, the howl of a gust of cold wind and a deep sense of being alone. Juliet sat up, drawing her cloak close and shivering as her eyes were drawn to the empty path that had led her to the animal last night.

  The sun was rising, but it had not been visible on the horizon for more than a few minutes and hadn’t yet had a chance to warm the air. The night’s chill remained. That’s why she wished for the wolf, a little. It was the heat she craved—nothing more. How long had the animal been gone? Would it return? How silly of her to get sentimental over a wild animal that had bared its teeth at her and nudged her toward captivity.

  Juliet was more than a little surprised that she’d slept so well. She had not even dreamed, that she remembered. It was nice to have a night pass without the disturbance of the nightmare that plagued her or dreams that were more than dreams. It was sheer exhaustion, she reasoned. Even though she’d slept deeply for most of the night, she’d awakened a few times to find the wolf snuggled up against her, offering warmth and companionship.

  This morning there was no sign of the wolf or Ryn. For a moment, a fleeting moment that p
assed almost before she was aware of it, Juliet was frightened to be here all alone. She quickly chastised herself for being too timid in a situation that called for bravery. Isadora would never sit around and wait for a man to rescue her, and neither would Sophie. Juliet’s thoughts turned to escape once again. Would she find one animal or another—Ryn or the wolf—awaiting her on the path if she tried once more to make her own way down the mountain? She rolled up the bearskin, determined to find a way to carry it with her, and snatched up the sack of food. She wouldn’t eat just yet. She didn’t know how long the supplies she had would have to last her.

  “You slept well.” The deep voice was so out of place on this mountain morning that Juliet actually jumped a little. Ryn gracefully rounded the boulder that hid the path from her. Not only had he been silent on his approach, but she’d had no internal warning that she was not alone. “The bearskin is too heavy for you.” He took the heavy bedroll from her and tossed it over his own shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all.

  He made a move toward her, as if he intended to toss her over his shoulder along with the bedroll.

  “I will walk,” she said sharply. “Being carried all day yesterday was quite unpleasant.”

  His smile was brilliant as he backed away from her. In the morning light Ryn was all sun-bronzed skin, hard muscle, and golden hair. And that smile. “Perhaps you will enjoy today’s journey.”

  “Perhaps,” she answered suspiciously.

  “We must hurry.”

  She followed him down the same path she’d walked alone last night. Her view of his back was from an entirely different perspective than it had been yesterday, when she’d been dangling there. Ryn’s stride was long and powerful, and she had to move quickly to keep up with him. The muscles in his legs and his back and his shoulders worked together in a way that was fascinating. The basics of anatomy were the same for Ryn and any other man, and yet he seemed different, as if he were of another species altogether.