The Wolf and the Druidess

by Cornelia Amiri

  His fingers ached to roam her curvaceous body. To cup and squeeze her plump breasts and roll her rose-tipped nipples between his fingers. To skim his palms down the silken skin of her lush hips. Then, he would dance his fingers up to the downy mound at the junction of her thighs and slip his finger into the moist heat of her sheath and feel her muscles clench and squeeze. The bulge of his erection strained against his pants. His breath grew shallow.

  He came to a sudden stop in the hallway. The image of Seren’s naked body writhing at his touch engulfed his mind so, he’d forgotten to bid Arianrhod farewell. Gwydion turned and strode back to her chamber. He pulled the door flap aside and walked in, but froze at the sight before him. A cold chill swept through him as he watched his sister and Govannon with their heads pressed together, whispering.

  “I came back to say thank you. But I have to ask what you two are up to.”

  “It is of no concern of yours.” Arianrhod curled her full, elderberry-stained lips into a malicious smile.

  * * * *

  Seren spread out her arms and welcomed the transparent glowing image of a tall woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes peering out of a kind face. When she reached out to the floating spirit, her mother slipped through Seren’s body and stepped out on the other side of her. A surge of tingling warmth flowed in Seren and she turned around laughing. “How did you do that?”

  “It is a magic of the spirit, which I now am, until I am reborn again.”

  “I miss you so, Mam.”

  “And I you.” The tiny lines around her mouth deepened as she smiled. “I heard you beckon to me, but then you summoned a god. I do not ken the druid mysteries and I did not want to disturb your rite, so I waited until you closed the ritual.”

  “Do you mean the Samhain bonfire?”

  “No dear, the rite you performed here at my cairn. I did not know you had such power. You changed a wolf into a god and then you magically shed his clothing, leaving him bare.” She whispered, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

  “Mother, no. The god did that. Gwydion appeared to me and shape-shifted from a wolf to the form of a man, and then displayed his nude body.” She paused, wondering how she would say this to her mother. “It is Samhain and he crossed the veil to drink and make merry, and that is what he wants to do with me.”

  “Oh my... God Gwydion.” Her mother winked “So bronze and muscular, in truth the most beautiful male I have ever seen.” A thoughtful expression crossed her face as she drew her lips in. “Do you care for him?”

  “I do but let us not speak of him now. Mam, at this moment, I only wish to visit with you.”

  “I do not think you should see him. He is a god and you are a mortal woman. If it was for naught but Samhain fun I would see nothing wrong with it. But I can see in your eyes that you feel something deeper for him. He will only break your heart.”

  “I cannot say how I feel about him, Mam. I have just met him this eve. But please, I came here to celebrate Samhain with you not speak of Gwydion. I brought food from the feast so we may drink and sup together.”

  In the blackness of the deep night, a purple light burst in front of the druidess and the ghost. Gwydion appeared in the colorful magical flash, garbed in his gold-speckled robe and blue tunic. Long, blonde curls framed his smooth, chiseled face and streamed down his broad back.

  “You must be Seren’s mother. I am honored to meet you.” He shifted his gaze back to Seren. “Introduce me, druidess.”

  “Mother, this is Gwydion, god of magic and wisdom.”

  “The honor is mine, god of art and knowledge.” Carys bowed.

  “God Gwydion, my mother Carys ferch Delfrig ferch Gruffudd of the Ordovices.”

  “It pleases me to meet you.” He smiled at her and then leaned toward Seren. “I have come to partake of your goodies.”

  “What say you?” Seren asked.

  “Oh my.” Carys giggled.

  Seren shook her head. “I am sharing the Samhain feast with my mother. I hardly think this is the time to discuss my goodies.”

  “Is it that there are not enough? For I can take the goodies you have and multiply them to ten times as many.”

  “Can you really?” Carys’ ghostly image glowed brighter.

  “No. I will not need an increase in my goodies.” Seren quipped in fun. “My thanks.”

  “Is it not the way of the Ordovices to offer hospitably? Do you really mean to not share your Samhain feast with me, not even as an offering to your god?”

  “Oh, you are speaking of the Samhain fare? Those goodies.” Seren suppressed a laugh. “Yes, we have plenty, you don’t need to make more of them with your magic.”

  She reached into the wicker basket and grabbed three shiny apples. After handing one to her mother and one to Gwydion, she brought the other to her lips and dug her teeth into the juicy fruit with a crisp, crunchy sound.

  He opened his mouth wide for the ripe fruit and bit down. Their gazes locked on each other, until Gwydion had finished the apple. He tossed the core down to the ground.

  Seren finished her apple as well and grabbed an oatcake from the basket. She munched on the flat, round treat.

  “That looks sweet,” Gwydion said to her.

  “It is.” Seren stuck her finger in her mouth and licked off the last crumb.

  “Oh my.” Carys giggled as she stood up. “I do have to go.”

  “Mother, we have more fare. Samhain has just begun.”

  “I must leave, I am busy reflecting on my life so I can prepare for rebirth. I still have a lot of years to reminisce about. Spending this time with you, dearest, has reminded me how much I love this world. I must hasten back to the otherworld and continue the preparation for my next life.” She turned her head toward Gwydion. “Take care with my daughter’s heart. She is a special woman and deserves to be cherished. She is not a God’s plaything.”

  “In truth she is a woman above all others and I would never hurt her. You have my word.”

  “I told you not to worry about me.” Seren reached out to the glowing image of her mother and hugged the air. “I shall miss you.” The warmth of her mam’s spirit vibrated through her, filling her with love.

  “I like him,” Carys whispered to Seren. “But do not forget he is a god.”

  “I also like him and I shall never forget who he is.” She stepped out of her mother’s embrace. “Farewell.” Seren watched the ghost grow more transparent, fading bit by bit until she had vanished.

  She turned to Gwydion. “Thank you for getting Arianrhod to bring her to me.”

  “No, she came here on her own.”

  “I am so glad she did, but I feel happy and sad at the same time. It is hard to say goodbye.”

  Gwydion spread his arms, welcoming her into his comforting embrace.

  Seren stepped into the circle of his strong, bracing arms. No other man had ever made her feel this secure. Her skin tingled as he held her. No other lover had caused her heart to throb whenever he was near, the way Gwydion did. As her hips pressed against his thighs, a hot shiver ran through her.

  Winding her arms around his smooth, broad back, she tilted her chin and peered at his strong, pale gold face, and the sensuous flame in his eyes. Seren felt his breath hot on her cheek. He leaned down until his warm, wet mouth touched hers. She ran her fingers through his long hair and yanked on the strands, pressing his mouth tighter to hers. When the deep, lingering kiss ended, she untangled his yellow curls from her fingers.

  He flashed an even, white-toothed grin. “There is something to be said for the mortal way of undressing. Here, let me help you.”

  “No, Gwydion, I am a druid and it is Samhain. I must return to the hill fort, there is much to do for the feast.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  If he came back to the hill fort, she could lie with him later tonight. Seren felt ready to jump on him and ride him hard right now, but her duties as a druidess waited. “Can you come in wolf form? I am not ready to exp
lain to the tribe that I entered the forest for the Samhain feast with my ancestor and left the woods with a god.”

  “As you wish.” He folded his muscular arms across his broad chest. “Noble wolf, cunning hunter, howling in the night, I call upon my magic to shift to your form.”

  His muscles twisted, some expanding as others contracted. She watched his smooth, bronzed skin and his curly, untamed yellow hair change to thick, white fur. She gazed upon a large wolf, with sharp fangs, and yellow eyes.

  The empty basket swung from her elbow as she brandished the torch in her other hand and strode with the white wolf through the woods. She glanced up at the leafless branches overhead, catching a glimpse of the full moon as Gwydion’s furry body brushed against her leg while they headed to the hill fort.

  Stepping out of the dense forest into the clearing, Seren moved at a springy pace to match the wolf’s fast paws. As they passed under the wooden arch of the gate to the hill fort, Gwydion whimpered in approval as he gazed at the carved wolf head, the tribe’s totem.

  Chapter Four

  Everyone in the village stopped in their tracks and stared at the wolf. Every time Gwydion drew near to anyone, Seren’s tribesmen stepped back. She read the fear in their eyes and knew the wolf could smell it.

  “He will not harm you,” Seren called out to her tribesmen. “He is tame, he will not bite.”

  In truth, he wouldn’t hurt them, yet he was anything but tame. Anyone with a body as wicked as his had to be wild. Seren couldn’t wait for Gwydion to shift into human form and crawl into her bed. Now her mother had returned to the otherworld, Seren could couple with Gwydion and explore every inch of his body, if she could make it to her roundhouse without someone in her tribe slaying him in his wolf form.

  “Do not be afraid,” she called out to the villagers again.

  Seren hadn’t realized he should have come as a man, because she was thinking of her own needs and not the tribe’s. She must look moon mad, walking through the village with a wolf, bringing him near the pens of herds and flocks, by the slabs of salted pork the nine maidens had worked so hard to prepare to feed the tribe, and around the small children. Someone called out to her, interrupting her silent musings.

  “Hail, druidess.” As the chief approached, his plaid cloak flapping in the night breeze, he studied the wolf.

  Seren observed a glint of awe in Neithon’s wide eyes. Though the chief called her name, he focused all his attention on the wolf. Three of the nine warriors, Gwydderig, Meilyr, and Hywell joined the chief, their eyes all holding a glint of fear.

  “Chief Neithon, the wolf will not harm us. I say this as druidess of the Ordovices. No one need fear him, the gods revealed this to me,” Seren said in a soft, soothing tone.

  A wave of relief coursed through her. All the men and women who had shied away and glared at Gwydion’s beastly form now stepped forward.

  The chief walked up to Gwydion and stopped a breath span from him. He gazed into the beast’s glowing, yellow eyes. “What is this? You are not a wolf, you are immortal.” He bowed.

  “How did you know?” Seren asked.

  Meilyr stepped to the chief’s side. “Druidess, he bears the pink-tipped ears of the otherworld.”

  Seren shook her head. How had she forgotten? Any noble would know that.

  The bard spread out his arms and opened his mouth, framed by his thick red moustache. In a deep, reverberating tone he sang out, “Release the transformation, shift from the beast, reveal your true being, present your real shape.”

  The wolf howled as he stretched and twisted. Part of his body expanded as other features contracted and his thick, white fur shortened until shifting into bronze-tinted flesh.

  Seren’s heart raced and she gasped at the tall, nude man who stood before her. He waved his fingers in front of his chest and right before her eyes, suddenly, he was clothed. Her pulse still pounded. The firm muscles of his thick arms and chest filled out his blue tunic and gold curls spilled down to his shoulders. Seren let out a soft chuckle, as she noticed all the women who had gathered around, gazed upon the portion of his bare chest that peeked out from his white, gold-speckled robe.

  The chief glanced at him and then shifted his gaze back to Seren. “He is a god. He sparkles and shines.”

  “Yes, this is god Gwydion, Chief Neithon,” Seren replied.

  The warriors stood with their mouths agape. Seren had to hold back a giggle.

  “God of wisdom, welcome to our hill fort.” Neithon turned to Seren. “What a great Samhain. Well done, you brought the god for the mating ritual. We do not need a druid or warrior to stand in his place for the rite, we have the actual god. I take it you will perform it with him, in proxy for Goddess Agrona.”

  “Does he speak of the ritual coupling, Druidess?” Gwydion gazed at her and winked.

  Her mouth went dry. She shivered. She couldn’t give herself to him with the entire tribe watching. Seren had never dreamed of standing in proxy as goddess Agrona, to mate with Gwydion. The chief needed to be quiet. This was the worst idea he’d ever had.

  “No, Chief Neithon, I have chosen one of the nine warriors as well as one of the nine maidens for the rite. It is the will of the gods.”

  “I thought that was why you summoned him.” Neithon shifted his gaze from Seren to the god. “God of wisdom, I ask your forgiveness in that I mistook the reason for your presence. I know now that you did not come for the ritual.”

  “Not at all chief, I have not declined, it’s a great honor to celebrate Samhain and I am sure, the warrior chosen to stand in my place would gladly relinquish it to me.” With elbows bent, he held his hands out and grinned. “And if I am playing myself, the role of my goddess would be Agrona, but I know she is unable to come. The part should be played by the most powerful druidess of the tribe. Who would that be, Chief Neithon?”

  The big man grinned. “Why the very druidess you are standing with, Seren is most powerful, god Gwydion. You honor us by accepting our druidess as your paramour for the Samhain fertility rite.”

  “I think it is madness, but so be it,” Seren agreed, since she had no choice.

  He’d tricked her into the fertility rite. How could he consent to this? Do this to her? Seren didn’t want to play Agrona as she made love to Gwydion. It would remind him of his coupling with the goddess, and Seren wanted Gwydion and everyone else to know he might be the tribe’s god, but she wanted him for her lover, hers alone. Forget Agorna, he was Seren’s now.

  Though she hungered for his touch. Longed to feel his warm palms blaze a path from her breasts to her thighs and caress her tingling skin, even as she envisioned their naked bodies melding together as one, as his hard flesh flowed into her like warm honey. She desired intimacy and privacy. Seren needed Gwydion to herself. Especially, if there was any chance, of having more than a tryst with him.

  As they strolled, side-by-side up the hill to the bonfire, she whispered in his ear. “I do not want this. Not in front of the tribe.”

  “I can turn them all to frogs.”

  “No.” She jerked away. Rage boiled through her that he would joke about her feelings. “This is a bad idea.”

  Reaching out to her, he laid his hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture and tilted his head to her ear. His hot breath fanned her face as he whispered, “You said you were not ready to explain why I was here. The chief kenned I came for the rite, so I thought you would want me to go along with that.”

  “No,” she answered curtly, but she did not pull away this time.

  He withdrew his arm and shrugged as he kept a brisk pace at her side. “You have engaged in sex magic before for festivals.”

  “Yes.” As they strode on, she slowed her gait while she pondered his words. “But never with someone that I longed for.”

  A huge, lecherous grin filled his face. “My thanks.” His tone oozed with masculine pride.

  * * * *

  They came to a stop at the top of the hill, standing before the roaring b
onfire. As the onlookers gathered around, Gwydion slipped off the druid robe and yanked the blue tunic over his head, then let them both fall to the ground. He blazed like the fire he stood before and his heart pounded. Sliding his long fingers to the gold clasp at his belt, he unfastened it, then climbed out of his pants and kicked them to the side. The crowd cheered, but he had no cares for what they thought, he saw nothing but the woman before him. While scrying her in the sacred salmon pond, he’d watched her from afar, and now he would have what he long desired. Seren. With his eyes locked on her, he waited for her to disrobe and bare her body to him.

  His gaze devoured her as the gold-speckled druid garment swished around her bare legs, as her lithe feet kicked to and fro in a fast pace around the fire. As she slipped off the robe, it hit the dirt. Moving to the rhythmic beat of the drum, she unraveled the knot of her hemp belt and her plaid skirt dropped to the ground. Seren hoisted her tunic over her head and threw it down.

  Hurrahs rang out as they danced, circling the fire. Gwydion’s heart raced to the rhythmic beat of the bodhran as he jumped and kicked his feet in fast movements. Catching Seren gazing at his crotch, he knew his erect rod bobbed as he danced. In turn, as she leapt and swirled to the music, he ogled her jiggling breasts. Dancing up to her, he reached out, and in each hand he cupped a soft, jutting breast.

  She came to a halt. Through this tryst, by his power and that of the goddess, the tribe would prevail against their enemies, including those that came with winter; sickness and starvation. The cheering tribesmen pushed in closer to witness Samhain sex magic.

  As he squeezed her soft flesh and pinched her erect nipples, Seren’s breath grew shallow. She threw her head back and moaned. He moved behind her so the crowd could view her bare body and worship her as the goddess Agrona, while he knew he coupled with Seren alone.