Orin mounted Evan, and tugged on the reins. “Let us return to the cave. We shall rethink our plan to hunt in this area. Where there be one wolf, there might be others.”
There’s a happy thought.
Wolves usually hunted in packs. With his belly satisfied, he allowed Orin to lead him back to the cave they shared with Vika and the pony. When the growls of at least two other wolves grew louder, he thought of his brothers. Were the wolves that followed them related to the beast he had killed? What would he do if someone had murdered one of his brothers?
Galloping through the forest, even carrying the extra weight, was a prudent choice. At the same time, he prayed that his dragon brothers were keeping an eye on him. When breaking branches and cries of a battle off to their right grew silent, he knew he and Orin would return to the cave unscathed.
Slowing to a trot, Evan listened for more threats, but there was only the wind whispering through the trees. Orin was unusually quiet, and Evan wondered if he had sensed the extent of the danger. Before he could think of how to approach the problem, Orin tensed.
Pulled to a stop, Evan raised his head and sniffed the air. The scent of a red deer filled his nostrils. His rider grabbed the crossbow hanging from his saddle, leaned forward, and took aim right beside Evan’s right eye. The snap of the bow and the whistle of the bolt as it flew toward the reddish fur, beyond a stand of thin trees, ended in a thud. As it landed in the stag’s chest, the beast screamed once, then dropped.
Good shot. Glad he doesn’t hunt dragons.
Orin quickly gutted the stag while Evan walked around and searched for more grass. All he found were acorns, dead leaves, and moss. Orin dragged the carcass closer, then tied it, but left it on the ground. Evan was glad. As a horse, he wasn’t nearly as strong as a dragon. It appeared that they would drag it the rest of the way to camp. The fresh scent of blood was intoxicating for his inner-dragon, but he pushed it aside.
The going was slow, and Orin needed to help lift the stag whenever they reached a downed tree. When their surroundings looked familiar, and the light scent of heather and lavender wafted up, he whinnied. It was an impulse, nothing more, but he could not wait to see her. However, when Vika exited the cave, she fisted her hands on her hips. As she glared at them, his hooves slid to a stop.
CHAPTER 7
“You two be muddy and covered in blood, like me! What has happened?” She stared at her brother, glad he was safe. Her clothes were drenched with blood because she hadn’t thought to wear her sealskin cloak today.
“Sister, calm yourself. We had a bit of bad luck, but we have returned in triumph. I’ve a huge stag and…” Orin pointed to the carcass on Spark’s back.
It was mangled, and blood dripped down the stallion’s rump. At this angle, she couldn’t tell what he’d killed, so she walked around to the other side. At the sight of the tooth-filled open maw of a very large and deadly wolf, she stepped back.
“Praise be! ‘Tis a wolf! Where…how?”
Orin untied the rope and slid the wolf’s body to the ground. “I fell off the horse, and the wolf attacked. Before I got to me feet, Spark was stomping the life out of him. He saved me.”
Vika glanced from her smiling brother, to the horse. Spark nodded his big head, as if agreeing with everything Orin said. Stunned, she didn’t move, and could only watch as Orin dragged the wolf and then the stag to the hanging tree. She glanced back at Spark, and at two large amber eyes that seemed to read her soul. Her heart raced, and her fingers tingled. Her hand rose and stroked the horse’s cheek, while her other cupped his velvety nose. “I thank you for saving me brother,” she whispered. If anything had happened to Orin, she had no idea how she would go on. He was the only thing that gave her life meaning. The animal beside her, with a bloody rump, and whose breathing seemed labored after his ordeal, had saved Orin. “The least I can do, be to bathe the blood from your fur. Follow me.”
“Bathe yourself, Vika. I will wait me turn.”
“Aye.” After collecting several bathing cloths, clean clothes, soap, and an apple, she led Spark to the waterfall. She sat on the grassy bank, removed her boots, and rolled up the bottoms of her breeches. She pulled Spark into the stream, and rubbed a wet cloth over him. The water around his hooves ran red for some time, but once it grew clear again, she rinsed out the cloth, and Spark drank.
The air had warmed considerably since the morning, and she was dirty. She had shot two small deer and several pine martins, and had to smile. Orin would see them as he dragged his catch to the hanging tree. Gutting them was a messy chore, and she hadn’t taken time to bathe. Starting their supper was more important. They needed sustenance in order to finish their quest. The elusive boar was waiting for her, somewhere. Tomorrow was her last chance to fill the pony cart. If she hunted down the boar, their cart would return to the village in triumph.
As she thought about the many delicious meals she could make with the meat they had already gathered, she slowly removed her clothes. With the water looking so clean and refreshing, the dirt and sweat was too much to bear another minute.
She had grabbed a bar of homemade soap, and wanted to wash her hair. As she untied the braid, and combed her fingers through the long strands, bits of leaves and twigs tumbled to the ground.
“I be disgusting from head to toe. The water ‘tis not too cold and clean clothing awaits me.” She unlaced her shirt, and threw it onto the bank. When she pulled off her breeches, she washed them as best she could. Finished, she slapped them on a rock to remove excess water. Turning back to the stream, she walked with care across the slimy rock bottom, and headed for the deeper pool by the waterfall.
As she neared the thunderous cascade, its spray coated her lashes. Her nipples hardened, and she shivered.
***
When her clothing hit the grassy bank, Evan lifted his head. He could not believe his luck. The human was undressing in front of him! As she unselfconsciously revealed each curve, and her sun-kissed skin came into view, he stood motionless. The urge to shift into his new human form, and delve into whatever parts came together between humans, grew. She had loosened her red hair, and the curls tumbled to the small of her back. Smears of blood coated her thighs, arms, and hands. She was a hunter, and he had witnessed her deadly accuracy with a bow first-hand.
When Vika submerged beneath the foaming current near the waterfall, Evan trotted back to the bank. He was clean and had his fill of water, but he wanted her. He must be cautious. Frightening her away was not the answer. He certainly did not want to remind her of Toal MacMorgan.
He stepped out of the stream and nibbled grass, until she surfaced, then dove beneath the waterfall. Alone at last, he called on his shifting power. He stood motionless as sparks flew and bones cracked. He closed his eyes at the brilliance, and gave in to the euphoria of the shift.
When he opened his eyes, he stood naked and aroused. Grabbing a dry cloth, he twisted it around his lower torso, and waited for her to appear. Would she let him mate with her? Or, would she scream? Might she throw rocks? Time would tell, but he feared he and his brother dragons had little time left.
“Praise be! Who be you, and what have you done with me horse?” Vika’s head and shoulders lifted above the surface, and she pushed hair out of her eyes. As she glared at him, Evan gave her what he hoped was a disarming smile.
“Don’t fear me, lass. Your beast be grazing a bit farther downstream. He seems friendly, and very handsome. Might we talk?” He raised his empty hands to prove he had no weapons. He kept his voice soft and welcoming, and remained as still as a mountain. A cool breeze ruffled his loose hair, but he kept his eyes on her.
“Hand me clothes, if you please?”
“Have I a choice, lass?” He smiled wider, hoping to put her at ease. He settled the pile of outerwear at the edge of the stream.
“Turn around.”
He did as she asked, though his body wanted nothing more than to touch her, taste her, and mate with her. His human body’s natu
ral reaction barely hid beneath the cloth he had borrowed. He hoped she did not recognize the strip of wool as one she had brought to the stream.
Splashing water, and her light footsteps, made him want to turn his head, but he needed to gain her trust. Unlike his brothers, he only lived and hunted in dragon form. His brothers claimed he was too young to shift, which was why he had wanted to try. Besides, it was his turn to save their clan. He never felt the need to shift into a stag like Dougal, or a wolf like Wynn, but he always assumed he had that power. All he had needed was a reason, and he’d managed to impress his brothers by shifting into a horse and a human male.
After this adventure ended, would he continue to shift into a horse, or would he wish to keep the human male form?
“I do not like being spied upon. Be you one of Toal’s men?”
Evan turned, shocked at her question. “Nay! I know of the man, and he be a disgusting creature. You do well to keep your distance from a cur such as him.”
“I try.” She had pulled her shirt on over her head, and had twisted a dry cloth around her hips and legs. As his eyes trailed down to the curves of her calves, and her small feet, she gathered her hair with a strip of cloth, and tied it into a long tail. “What be that on your back. Oh, dear me. How rude!”
Did she think his markings were an injury? Was that the best way to explain it? His brothers neglected to mention that the mark of their clan would appear whenever they shifted. As he contemplated his answer he realized the damp strands of her hair looked like a dark red waterfall, which suddenly reminded him of the red wolf he had stomped to death. His body trembled, especially when he recalled how close this woman’s younger brother came to dying. He decided to draw attention away from his body.
“What be you doing bathing naked near Crystal Falls?” Evan asked.
She slipped on her breeches, dropped the cloth, and stepped into her boots. She hadn’t mentioned his own lack of clothing. “This waterfall has a name? I like it. ‘Tis fitting.”
“And, you be swimming here why?”
“I hunted all day. I was rather bloody.”
He smiled at the proud tone of her voice. “If you be a successful hunter, there be no shame in blood and gore. But, have you no fear of the predators in these woods?”
“Such as wolves? Me brother dealt with one earlier today.”
“I was referring to larger killers, such as dragons.”
She laughed.
Tingles raced up and down his spine, and his mouth went dry. Reacting in such a way was new, yet he was unsure how to approach her. He had mated once or twice years earlier, when female dragons were more plentiful, but he had a feeling things were different among humans. If a female did not care with whom she shared her body, why would Vika have turned Toal away?
“I be serious. I have seen dragons. I recently caught sight of one with brown wings and scales the color of blooming heather, and I believe it makes its home near here. They say the peaks of the Cuillin Hills house an entire clan of dragons.”
“You must be a traveling storyteller, sir, so you might wish to head west. The village I come from has many wee bairns, and they enjoy tales of dragons and fairies. I told me brother the same tale just the other day, as a jest. He be a bit gullible, but not I.”
She assumed he was a teller of tales? How could he make her believe in him in his natural state after she mated with his current form? Before he could form an answer that might appease her, the trees on the far side of the stream shook, and a whoosh of fire turned a nearby bush into a flaming torch. When a green dragon with white wings stepped out of the trees, Evan snapped his mouth closed.
In all his ferocious glory, Wynn was a sight to behold. He must have listened to their conversation, and decided to help, but frightening the woman he wished to mate with was not the way to go about it.
When Vika screamed, Evan splashed across the stream, grabbed a burning branch, and swung it in the air at the dragon. Wynn’s mouth opened, and his fangs glistened. He was huge, compared to them, and if he swung his tail, could kill them both.
As Evan shoved Vika behind him, she rested her open palm against his shoulder blade, and his body leapt to life. He wanted nothing more than to turn, gather her in his arms, and kiss her senseless. Unfortunately, he had a feisty brother with which to contend.
“Go away, beast. There be nothing here to eat!” He crouched, and he felt Vika place another hand on his waist, and crouch behind him. She was so close, and smelled of fresh water and heather.
The dragon raked a clawed foot through the grass, and swung his scaly tail over their heads. Wynn acted a little too much like a dangerous behemoth, but finally slithered back into the dark forest. The air was thick with the odor of the growing fire, and the only noise was Vika’s sobs.
He turned to find tears falling down her cheeks, and she surprised him by throwing herself into his arms. When their lips met, his surprise was replaced with lust. Her salty tears added to the rich flavor of her mouth. As he sipped and licked her lips, he recalled that even dragons cried tears. When he and Dougal witnessed Dougal’s mate murdered by humans, he had witnessed his brother’s tears. The image was still clear and too recent to forget, and bile rose in his throat. How could he think to mate with a human?
Evan broke the kiss, and moved away, enough to make her hands fall away. He walked unsteadily to the bush, and stomped it until he had extinguished the fire. As he cooled his feet in the stream, he took a deep breath. He steeled his features, so as not to show her how bewildering her touch had felt. His chest hurt, which confused him. He wished to save his clan, so he would not allow his expression to show he was at war with himself.
Turning to face her, his shoulders stiffened. She had stopped crying, but her cheeks were damp with tears. Her skin was pale from fright, and she was shaking uncontrollably. His first concern was to let her know she was safe. The second was to keep his distance until he could discuss his new feelings with his brothers.
“Do you believe in dragons now?”
She nodded. “I thank you for saving us from that horrible demon!”
He laughed. “That was no demon. ‘Tis a dragon, one of a few that be said to live among the black rock peaks of the Cuillin Hills. Aye, they be large and dangerous, but when was the last time you heard of someone disappearing from your village? Wolves be much more dangerous.”
“Oh! I forgot about Orin and Spark!”
“Who?”
“Me brother Orin dealt with a wolf, today. Our horse, Spark, killed it by stomping on it.”
Evan grinned, and tightened the cloth around his waist. The air had grown chilly, and blew his hair across his face. Brushing it back, he watched her eyes widen.
“Your hair. ‘Tis the same shade as me horse.”
His laugh echoed through the trees, and he turned away in order to catch his breath.
“I know you!” Vika cried, “I recognize your back. You climbed our fence, several nights ago. Be you following me?”
How could he explain his motives? The truth might be an expedient way to explain his current actions. “Aye, ‘twas me. I was out for a walk. I love moonlight, and when I came to your farm, the fenced paddock was in the way.”
“You did not think to go around it?”
He chuckled, as he thought up a better lie. “I thought I spied an owl, and followed it from fence post to fence post. I thought to capture it, but it eluded me at every turn.”
“You hunted naked?”
“Me plaide slipped off in the dark. I beg your forgiveness for trespassing. I shall avoid your property from this day hence.”
“Not so fast. What be your name?” The wind was picking up, and she had to brush her long tail of hair back over her shoulder. As she waited for his answer, she wiped the dampness from her cheeks. Her gaze wandered to the woods, probably searching for the horse.
“Your beastie be fine. I can hear him chomping grass just past those trees.” He pointed downstream, and hated to lie.
“I must be getting back to Orin. Your name?”
“I go by Evan.”
“What be your other name? I be Vika MacKinnon, and hail from the village of Morbhan.”
Two names? Must be a human tradition. The color of his wings came to mind. “Evan Brown, lass.”
“Good day to you.” She began to walk away, then turned back. “Would you like to share supper with us?”
He opened his mouth. Aye was on the tip of his tongue, but he could not be Evan and Spark at the same time. “I thank you, but I have somewhere to be this night. Perhaps another time?”
She nodded, turned away, and walked along the stream’s grassy bank. After she ventured toward the small trail, and was finally out of sight, he dropped the cloth, waded to the far side, and snuck behind the trees.
“That was quite the display of heroism, brother.”
Evan glared up at Wynn. “I had to gain her trust, and make her believe in dragons. Our future depends on such trust and beliefs. I have more to discuss with you and Dougal, but Vika be searching for her horse.”
From behind a nearby tree, Dougal laughed, spewing flames that ignited another nearby bush.
“Stop that!” Evan stomped out the fire. “Ouch! That hurts this fragile skin.” He jumped back into the water and sighed.
As he rose, and walked farther downstream, he began to concentrate on turning back into a horse.
“Why must you turn back into a beastie?” Dougal asked.
“She and her brother must win a wager.”
“The prize?”
Spark (Clan of Dragons Book 1) Page 6