Serena reached out and touched the strong, thick bulrushes. Soon, they would be picked, woven into mats and allowed to dry. Her heart was in utter turmoil, and she hadn’t slept well the past half moon. Was she going crazy? How could all of her but her head want Wolf? Her mind screamed that Wolf would hurt her just as Kingston had. Biting down on her lower lip, Serena stopped and absently ran her hands up and down the bulrushes.
“You are torn.”
Serena gasped and whirled around. Wolf stood on the bank, the flute in one hand, the courting blanket in the other. Touching her pounding heart, she whispered, “You scared me.”
He gave her an apologetic look and came down the bank. Placing the blanket and flute on the grassy ground, he moved to her side. “I could not stand the pain I saw in your face any longer, Cante Tinza.“ Wolf captured her hands and held them in his own.
Wolf’s touch was stabilizing as she looked up into his understanding features. “I am torn. It’s so stupid, Wolf. I don’t know what to do….”
“Listen to your heart, because it will never lead you wrong,” he advised, stroking her fingers and feeling the roughness of her skin created by the many activities she performed daily. He smiled gently. “Each of us must, at some time in our life, have the courage to believe what comes from our heart—no matter what others say, or what our head tells us. The greatest courage is to live, Cante Tinza.”
She felt his warmth silently embrace her. It was a wonderful feeling of love and protection. “You gave me a name that I haven’t been living up to,” she admitted in a raspy voice. “You called me Brave Heart because I attacked the miners. But I’m finding that the name you gave me means so much more than that. It’s a daily challenge to live up to my heart’s demands, not my head’s demands.”
“So, you see the sacredness of your name,” he murmured with a pleased smile. “That is very good, Cante Tinza. A name is more than just a name. It is a way of life. A way of becoming.”
“I haven’t been very brave of late, have I?”
He reached out and touched her red hair. “Each of us battles dark fears within ourselves,” he told her, “so do not be hard on yourself. The name given to you asks you to live up to that possibility. You were brave once, and you can be brave again.”
Serena’s breath whispered from her lips as she felt Wolf’s hand close across her hair and gently guide her forward. Closing her eyes, she came into his arms of her own accord, following her heart not her head. His arms, strong and powerful, held her close, but not tightly, against him. Serena rested her head against Wolf’s chest, and for the first time she heard the thunderous beat of his heart beneath her ear. Her hands rested against his sun-hardened flesh, and she felt the latent tension in his muscles. Serena was wildly aware of a startling heat uncoiling rapidly within her.
Easing away from Wolf and lifting her head, Serena looked directly into his eyes. “Kiss me?”
The words, whispered so softly, caught Wolf off guard. As Cante Tinza lifted her chin, her green eyes wide and lustrous, he, too, followed his heart and framed her face with his large hands. As he leaned down to touch her lips for the first time, he prayed for control over his screaming need to make her his woman. This was a test, Wolf realized somewhere in his spinning senses—a test to prove to Cante Tinza that he would not take her violently as Kingston had done.
“My woman,” he said thickly, as his mouth lightly slid across hers. “You are the rainbow in my life.“ Wolf felt her tremble and he grazed her lips more surely, asking her to explore him at her leisure. He was not going to force her into anything, so he waited. He waited in agony, the knots within him painful and begging for relief. Wolf would have gone through the worst torture imaginable before he would ever have taken from Cante Tinza. No, she must understand that between a man and a woman there was respect and sharing.
Serena trembled again as Wolf’s mouth captured her lips. She felt the strength of his mouth grow gentle against her. She could feel the warmth of the sunlight on them, and taste the salt of perspiration. This was the mouth that sang to her, that played the flute, that stretched into a dazzling smile, and that released deep and strong laughter. The cherished movement of his mouth sent a yearning through Serena. Each light, coaxing touch of his mouth made her want more. She leaned forward on her tiptoes, holding her hands against his chest, to seal his mouth with her own. She heard a low growl from deep within Wolf’s chest as she pressed her lips inexpertly against his. The vibration coursed through her hands, up her arms and into her body as if he had stroked her with his large hands. But he hadn’t touched her body; his hands continued to span and frame her face.
With a small cry, Serena wanted more of Wolf, and knew instinctively she must ask for it. He did not disappoint her as his lips coaxed and shaped her mouth strongly to his. The moment his tongue slid across her lower lip, a heat shattered and seared through her lower body. Serena was beginning to shake in earnest, and her knees grew weak from the tender exploration Wolf was initiating. Barely aware that his hands had moved from her face to her shoulders to steady her, Serena felt her breath come in ragged gasps as she eased from his mouth.
Staring up into his dark, burning eyes, Serena became lost in a storm of longing that threatened to make her faint with need. Wolf’s hands became firmer against her shoulders. She pressed her face against his naked chest and closed her eyes as his arms swept around her and held her tightly.
“This is love,” Wolf rasped close to her ear. “We love each other, Cante Tinza. I want you for my wife. I want you to be the mother of all my children. Walk back with me beneath the blanket through the village. Let the people know that you have chosen me as your husband. I vow to always love you, cherish you and respect you. The children you hold in your belly will be children fashioned from our love for each other. Will you walk at my side, my woman?”
Without a sound, Serena nodded. In that moment, she had felt her heart burst open like a flower. She loved Wolf. She lifted her head, drowning in his gaze. She watched as his eyes filled with tears of joy. Reaching up, she touched his tears with her fingertips.
“Yes, I’ll be your wife, beloved.”
Wolf wanted to howl his joy like the animal he had been named for, but instead, crushed Serena against him. He held her and rocked her. “You will never be sorry for this decision,” he told her in a choked voice. “I see the happiness in your eyes. I want always to see that gold light there, Cante Tinza. I want to make you smile. I want you to be happy, as you deserve.”
“All I need, all I’ll ever want is you, Wolf,” she quavered. And Serena meant those words with her life. She saw him smile brokenly as he caressed her cheek, and tears blurred her vision.
“Tonight,” he rasped, “I will be gentle with you, my woman. You will never feel pain from me, only pleasure, only my love. That is my vow to you.”
Serena believed him. “I’m afraid, Wolf, but I’m not going to let it stop me from living. I can’t.”
Wolf leaned down and picked up the bright red wool blanket. Without a word, he placed it around himself and then draped it across Cante Tinza. When her arm went around his waist and she stepped next to him, his heart soared like the eagle. Picking up the flute, he smiled down at her.
“Let us walk through the village so that everyone knows that you will, from this moment on, be my woman.”
* * *
Deer Woman was sitting outside her parents’ tepee with a bored look on her face, even though Swift Elk stood speaking animatedly with her. The sun had just gone down, and the sky was a vibrant pink and gold color. The black nighthawks were now flying and screeching around them, dipping for insects buzzing in the air just above the river region. Nearly everyone in the village was outside at this time of night—either eating their meals around the community fires, talking in low voices or playing.
“Look!” Swift Elk said, pointing toward the end of the village.
Deer Woman looked. Her mouth fell open. Her heart beat painfully. “N
o!” she cried, jumping up from the log she sat upon.
With a laugh, Swift Elk said, “Finally! The Wolf captures Cante Tinza! Ho! This is good.”
Angrily, Deer Woman watched Wolf proudly walk with Cante Tinza beneath his courting blanket. Hurt mixed with fury as she watched them draw closer. How could Wolf do this to her? He didn’t love that wasicun! He only fell in love with the idea because she was pale skinned and had fiery-colored hair! With a cry, Deer Woman turned and ran behind the tepee. She kept running until she got to the pine forest that ringed the large meadow. Once inside the forest she fell into a heap, and sobbing, pressed her hands against her face and mouth. She sobbed loud and hard, rocking back and forth in pain.
How could Wolf have done this to her? How? She was a comely Lakota maiden, and her father was rich with horses. She loved Wolf! The cursed wasicun had cast her spell over him—that was all there was to it! As darkness began to fall, Deer Woman stopped crying. Her grief was replaced with hatred. What could she do to tear the wasicun out of Wolf’s arms? Somehow, Deer Woman vowed to herself, she would make sure that Cante Tinza would leave their village—forever. She prayed long and hard to the Great Spirit to show her a way to do this.
Darkness was complete around Deer Woman. She knew she must get back to the village. Worse, she knew that Wolf would now take the wasicun to his robe and make her his wife that very night. Bitterly, Deer Woman got to her feet. She angrily wiped the tears from her face and began the long walk back to the village, where several cook fires still burned in the distance. Deer Woman’s pain nearly tore her apart, and she began to weep again as she stumbled blindly down into the meadow toward her parents’ tepee.
* * *
Tonight, Little Swallow had taken Dawn Sky home with her. It was her gift to Serena and Wolf. Nervousness stalked Serena as she completed the normal nightly tasks before they went to bed. Only this time, she would be sharing Wolf’s robe. The fire was small in the pit, mostly glowing coals, but the shadowy light chased away the darkness in their tepee. Wolf had shaken out the robes and laid them neatly on the dried bulrush mats. He had gone to the sweat lodge earlier and then to the river to cleanse his body and spirit for this sacred night. His hair was washed, hanging in dark black sheets about his powerful shoulders. A number of the married women had prepared a similar sweat lodge for Serena.
Hands trembling, Serena glanced nervously over at Wolf. He wore nothing but his breechclout. His skin was darkly shadowed and taut against the heavy muscle of his body. He sat there cross-legged watching her, his arms relaxed across his knees. She felt anything but relaxed. In the darkness of the sweat lodge the older women had counseled her on the ways of a new wife. They had accompanied her to the river, rinsed her off in the icy waters and dried her on the bank. Then they had unbraided her hair, combed it out and rubbed her skin with the fragrant wild bergamot.
They had told her how fortunate she was to be Black Wolf’s wife, that he was looked upon with great respect and love in the tribe. They combed her hair until it shone like burnished copper, whispering and giggling like young girls the whole time. Serena finally laughed with them, some of her nervousness dissolving beneath their care and teasing.
She could no longer find anything to do. She knew that she was supposed to pull off the dress and walk naked to Wolf’s robe, but she just couldn’t do it. At least, not yet.
“Come here,” Wolf invited softly, holding out his hand to her. He saw the fear in Cante Tinza’s huge green eyes. As her damp, cool fingers met his, he drew her down so that she knelt in front of him. He released her hand and threaded his fingers through her heavy red hair. “The women have made you even more beautiful, if that is possible,” he told her. Just the simple feeling of the heavy, silken strands of her hair flowing around and through his fingers sent unbidden longing through Wolf. He eased to his knees and began to gently massage her scalp.
“Do you know how many times I have dreamed of doing this?“ he asked her, holding her unsure gaze. Her lips were parted, begging to be touched once again. “A husband loves his wife in many ways, Cante Tinza. He massages her scalp, combs her hair and braids it…. If the sunlight is harsh, he places grease upon her cheeks and brow to ensure she does not become burned by it. Each night, I want to ease the tension I now feel in your shoulders. You work very hard. You never stop to rest.“ He smiled into her eyes and realized the fear was dissolving with each caressing stroke of his hands against her tense shoulders.
“Your hair—“ and Wolf sighed as he withdrew his hands from her now relaxed shoulders and cupped the weighty strands into his palms “—is living fire. I often felt that the fire you wore in your hair was like the fire you carry in your heart. I am not wrong, for I sense this about you. When you touched my lips near the river earlier, I felt your fire for the first time, and I knew….”
With a shaky breath, Serena surrendered to Wolf’s dark voice—to the beauty of his words that she knew came from his heart—and to the gentle touch of his hands upon her. She had seen him tame wild horses with that same touch. Was she any less wild? No. She had been as frightened as a wild horse, but for different reasons. She felt him take the hem of her deerskin dress and begin to roll it upward. Closing her eyes, she allowed him to pull it off her.
Unable to look up at him because she knelt fully naked before him, Serena saw him carefully fold her dress and put it aside. Hesitant and unsure, she gasped as Wolf’s hands lightly came to rest on her shoulders.
“Look at me,” he urged. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, my woman. In my eyes, you are beautiful to look upon. You make me feel powerful and good because you sit before me with such innocence and trust.”
It took every last vestige of Serena’s dissolving courage to lift her chin those scant inches to meet Wolf’s tender, dark eyes. Swallowing convulsively, she felt him begin to lightly stroke her shoulders, trailing his fingers down her arms to her hands and then back up to her shoulders. It was as if he were trailing fire up and down her arms, and she released a ragged breath, succumbing to his touch.
“Let me please you,” Wolf begged hoarsely. “Let me show you the love a man can give his woman. This time, allow me to give you pleasure. At other times, when it feels right to you, I will teach you how to please me in return.”
Serena nodded and closed her eyes, her heart beating like a wild rabbit in her chest. Wolf moved behind her, resting his thighs on either side of her as he began to gently soothe and massage her tight shoulders and stiffened spine. Each time he touched her, tiny rivulets of fire leaped through her. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his body—the energy that always surrounded him. As Wolf leaned down and pressed a series of small kisses against the length of her neck and across her shoulder, she shuddered. But it wasn’t from fear, it was from longing. His tongue wove wet, subtle patterns across her sensitized skin, and Serena moaned as she fell back against his body. The instant they touched, she felt as if they were melting into each other, for their flesh was hot and tingling.
She was no longer thinking, simply feeling and responding to each of his butterfly caresses. Never had she been worshiped in such a way, never had she felt her body respond in such a fashion, as Wolf’s hands created a hot, simmering magic wherever he stroked her. As his hands gently slid beneath her arms to cup her breasts, Serena froze.
“Do not run,” Wolf whispered against her ear, “but ease back against me, my woman. I will not hurt you, I only want to give you further pleasure….”
The shame of the scars made Serena stiffen. She felt Wolf release her. He stood up and came around to face her. “I—I’m sorry,” Serena whispered, her hands pressed against her breasts. “They’re ugly, Wolf. Ugly.”
Whispering her name, he captured her hands and drew them away from her breasts. “Not ugly, my woman. The scars you carry are from a battle you fought. There is never ugliness in scars earned in battle.“ He gave her a soft smile and gently cupped her breasts once again in his hands. Wolf saw desire clash wi
th fear in Cante Tinza’s half-closed eyes. He began to use his thumbs to gently brush her nipples, and they hardened instantly beneath his onslaught. A gasp tore from her, but it was a gasp of shocked surprise and pleasure.
“Your breasts are beautiful to me, Cante Tinza,” he told her in a roughened tone. “They remind me of the fullness of Mother Moon when she shines white in Father Sky.“ He leaned down, licking one nipple with his tongue. Instantly, she gripped his shoulders with her hands, a small cry issuing from her lips. Smiling to himself, Wolf knew he had pleased her. “The milk that spills from your breasts will feed our children, my woman. I do not see your breasts as ugly, nor will our babies. I feel your need of me when I suckle at your breast. I see your beauty and I taste the liquid gifted to me from your breast. How can any of these things be ugly?”
Serena gave another little cry as Wolf’s lips closed around her nipple and suckled gently. Her fingers dug frantically into his dark, brawny shoulders. His head was pressed against her as his lips teased and drew each nipple into the moist, heated depths of his mouth. She lost her reason when she felt Wolf move his hand downward in slow, tantalizing patterns, across her torso, splaying his fingers out across her rounded belly. The earth tilted and Serena felt herself being carried in Wolf’s arms to his robe. The soft, thick fur of the buffalo robe tickled her back as he laid her down. She saw the burning intensity in his eyes as he knelt above her.
Reaching up, she threaded her hands through his thick, loose hair. He gave her a very male smile and leaned over to once again capture one of her nipples. Serena lost all coherency as she surrendered to Wolf’s gentle assault upon her stubborn mind. As his hand roved across her belly, brushing down across her tense thighs, she became lost in the multitude of wonderful sensations. Heat collected between her thighs, intensifying the throbbing ache below his fingers. Of their own accord, her thighs parted, and Wolf’s hand moved downward caressingly.
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