by Unknown
“You’re been acting strange all night,” Calum communicated from his stone repose.
“Some lass on your mind?”
Was his distraction that obvious? Mason couldn’t admit the truth, that a tree witch had captivated him.
“Has she found a way into your stone heart or cock?” Gavin added, and his four brothers chuckled.
“Ha ha,” Mason replied. He had to regain control on his emotions.
* * * * *
Kayla spent much of the night staring at the thatched roof. Her room was a tiny octagonal shape, higher in the branches of a Scots pine tree while her mother slept in a room in an adjacent tree below. Their rooms in their tree house were connected by rope bridges to a shared living area with her mother’s two sisters, Muriel and Emma.
Kayla had never known her father, a witch from the Americas, who’d spent a summer on the Isle of Stone. He’d met her mother in Inverness one summer and she brought him to the island. He’d left that fall before knowing she had been conceived, and her mother claimed she knew no way to contact him. She’d brushed it off, saying if he wanted to stay in touch, he knew where she was, but Kayla saw the hurt behind her dismissal.
What Kayla didn’t know of him, she created in her mind. An image of a powerful witch with dark hair and blue eyes, eyes so striking her mother had found him irresistible and had fallen for him hard, against her better judgment. Kayla had inherited her blue eyes from her father, and she wondered if the resemblance brought her mother pain.
Another man now preoccupied her thoughts. One with long dark hair and eyes as green as the mosses on the shore. His chiseled lips had grazed hers with softness before he’d claimed her with hungry possession. When she pictured how he’d watched her with a mix of desire and fascination, something lit deep inside her. She ran her fingers over her lips, remembering how he’d taken her in his embrace, fastening his mouth on hers. His kiss had ignited something inside her, one encounter would never be enough. Longing spread through her body. Her nipples tingled with sensitivity, aching to be touched. Touched by his firm hands, caressed, and kissed.
She ran her hands from her lips down to her breasts, imagining it was Mason touching her. The way he’d looked at her with such wonder made her feel unique. It was foolish to think that way, but when he’d escorted her, she felt special, different. She moved her fingers down her belly and in between her thighs, easily slipping a digit inside. What would it feel like with Mason’s body on top of her, sliding deep inside? Penetrating her with his magnificent, hard body while he fixed his hungry eyes on hers?
She fantasized about being back in the forest and continuing with their kiss. The passion would heighten as their hands roved over each other’s bodies. In a frenzy to touch, he’d tear off her clothes, and she’d strip off his kilt. He’d lay her gently on the soft groundcover and take her under the cover of the trees.
She circled her swollen clit, and her need for more intensity rose higher. Her breathing escalated and then hitched as she applied more pressure. When she crested and crashed over the edge, she arched her back as waves of pleasure flowed through her.
Her breathing and heartbeat slowed, and she thought about seeing him again tomorrow night. With all hands attending for the summer solstice, she wasn’t sure how she’d sneak away. But, she’d damn well try.
When she woke, Kayla spent the morning outdoors, weeding and gathering cuttings from the herb section. Her gifts lay in horticulture and potions so she spent many hours tending to the garden, using magic to help it flourish. She picked a handful of basil, mint, rosemary, and other herbs before climbing over the stone border of the garden.
Stone. She touched the cool gray matter. Was it the same as that of the gargoyles? It couldn’t be, could it? Mason’s smooth skin was warm to the touch, not cool like this rock. Their stone had to be malleable somehow, turning to flesh. Or was it magic?
After delivering herbs to her mother, one of the best chefs in the coven, she followed her mother’s instructions on what to cut or steep.
“You disappeared from the gathering last night.”
Her mother’s tone shot Kayla into a defensive mode.
“We’d done the fertility rituals many times. I didn’t think I needed to stay.”
“We also finalized plans for the solstice tonight. Where did you go?”
Kayla feigned greater interest in the basil she was cutting. “Nowhere really. Just walking.” Her cheeks warmed with guilt.
“Be there tonight. This is one of our most important gatherings. If there are decisions to be made, you should be a part of the vote.”
“I don’t have a say,” Kayla protested. “The elders make all decisions. A young witch like me has little voice in any matters.”
“But still a voice nonetheless,” her mother said. “This is your coven. You are becoming a powerful witch, so you should take on a greater role in its future.”
* * * * *
Kayla gritted her teeth all afternoon. How would she escape tonight? Families were sharing in a potluck feast, and the celebration would last all night. She usually looked forward to the event with all the delicious foods and elderberry wine, but this time she was distracted.
She helped her mother prepare a casserole with fresh caught fish and garden vegetables, and they brought it to the feast. Witches had covered the oak banquet table with trays of stuffed tomatoes and zucchini, shellfish, and more. The table itself was carved by one of the male witches who was renowned for his carpentry skills.
Kayla’s foot tapped impatiently throughout the dinner feast, and she ate with far less gusto than usual. Even her wine goblet remained full. When her mother called her to the fire, she suppressed a sigh.
The circle was cast, and the altar was set. The elders led them through a ritual to burn away negativity, using bundles of herbs Kayla had grown. Then they presented the importance of the solstice to the young witches. Whey they asked if anyone had questions, Kayla piped up.
“I’ve grown up hearing I must stay away from the other parts of the island, but I’ve never fully understood why.
Matilda, an ancient witch with hair more white than gray, said, “I don’t see how this has anything to do with the solstice.” She straightened her cross-legged position at the fire. “Stay away from them.”
“But why?” Kayla prodded.
The old witch appraised her through her hooded eyes. “They attacked us many years ago. Accused us of doing things we didn’t do.”
“What did they say we’d done?”
“Gargoyles are bloodthirsty creatures. They’d find a reason to seek vengeance in even the most unjust of accusations. And the wolf shifters will find any excuse to shed blood.”
Kayla furrowed her brow. She’d seen the gargoyles play at night and didn’t see signs of this bloodlust. “Can’t we find a way to come together? Whatever happened in the past is long done.”
“We lost many promising witches.” She turned from Kayla. “Let’s return to the ritual.”
Although Kayla didn’t learn much, at least she’d made her presence known. Her mother knew she was here. The ceremony ended with witches beating drums and singing, some began dancing in a circle around the fire. Kayla glanced at her mother and saw her distracted by a conversation. Kayla moved to the edge of the circle. Night gave her cover, but the fire cast a glow lighting those closest to the flames. The further she moved into the shadows, the easier it would be to escape.
She seized an opportunity to blend in and sneak out under cover of darkness. It was earlier than they’d planned to meet so she’d head to the gargoyle’s territory and catch their show. Running through the woods, she had to lean forward, panting, when she finally reached the moors. She slowed her pace as she padded through tall grasses that tickled her shins. Excitement brewed within her as she approached their land. She quickened her step as anticipation bubbled as potent as a potion in a boiling cauldron.
An uncomfortable sensation prickled the back of her neck,
and she froze. Something was watching her. She spun around searching through the heather and taller grasses. She’d never experienced fear in this peaceful expanse, but anxiety pervaded her as it did on nights in the forests, when the dark realms encouraged her deepest fears to take shape.
Past the vertical obelisks left by her ancestors, she spotted a silver-gray wolf watching her. It was outside the border of the wolves’ territory with its hilly terrain. What was it doing there? The wolves kept to themselves in their land. Ice froze her veins. Was it searching for prey? Would it come her way, bounding through the woods to attack? Or was the wolf curious and hesitant, same as she?
Mason’s words about the wolves returned to her. She shot a quick glance to the sky and saw the moon was half-full. This gave her some comfort, the moon at its fullest could affect all creatures, especially ones sensitive to lunar cycles like the wolves. She watched the wolf with wariness and continued through the moors with quickened steps.
Once in the gargoyle’s land, she exhaled with relief. Excitement bubbled through her as she approached the amphitheater, knowing she’d see Mason soon. She quickened her pace.
She heard the audience before she saw them, a low murmur of discussions that hummed her way. A large crowd had gathered tonight. Each night it appeared to grow bigger than the previous one. As word of the gargoyle rock show spread, so did the size of the crowd.
The five statues loomed above the crowd, still and timeless. The last light of the setting sun cast an eerie glow around them. When she fixed her gaze on Mason’s stone form, her heart thumped. She scanned every inch of his silhouette, wondering about the spark of life within the stone that would animate him into flesh. A warm-blooded male with a heated touch and sensuous lips that made her melt.
Minutes pounded as she waited for the transition. At last, the fiery glow of sunset left the sky. Kayla held her breath, waiting for the change. A spike of dread drove through her. What if one night the spark of life wouldn’t light? If the magic faded and he could no longer transform? He’d be forever locked in stone. She’d never feel his wondrous lips pressed against hers again, nor the warmth of his caress.
When his finger twitched, she exhaled with relief. The magical transformation began. His black feathered wings unfurled as he stood upright. When the stone eyes animated with light, they changed to the green color of the forest, smoldering with intensity as they searched the cheering crowd. They stopped on her and widened. The world around her faded into the background when their eyes locked. She wasn’t supposed to meet him until later in the neutral space. He waved his finger as if scolding her, but then his mouth twitched into a grin. Her insides fluttered madly in response. She beamed, smiling back. She’d made it.
During the show, she studied him on stage. The way he strummed the guitar, the movement of muscles in his arms and torso, the sway of the tartan fabric with his movements. Her cheeks heated when she thought about running her fingers over his torso and under his kilt. Oh, the things he could do to her with that body. They exchanged glances throughout the set. After the last song, Mason winked at her before bolting into the blackened sky.
She left the amphitheater, her thoughts consumed with Mason. Did he sleep there while perched on stage in statue form or as humans did? She pictured him asleep, eyes closed and chest rising and falling, filling her with contentment. This image conflicted with what the tree witches warned her about with the gargoyles and she once again questioned the conflict between the clans.
She reached the edge of the forest and ventured in to the point where they’d met last night.
“You came,” a low voice spoke from the darkness. “All the way to our show.”
Her eyes widened as she witnessed him emerge from the shadows.
“I did.”
He scanned her from head to toe before taking two steps toward her. “That was risky. But I’m glad you did. I worried you’d change your mind.”
Her cheeks flushed under his burning gaze. He was so close she sensed the air around him pulsating with energy. “Why would I change my mind?”
Stroking her cheek, he replied, “Coming to your senses, perhaps. Listening to the admonitions of your clan on staying away from gargoyles.”
His fingers left a fiery trail on her skin. She struggled to find her voice. “They’ve warned me about you. Said gargoyles are filled with bloodlust.”
Mason dropped his hand. “That’s not true.” He took a step back. “You don’t believe that about me, do you?”
When she searched his eyes, she found them filled with earnest. “No. I don’t. I haven’t seen anything to indicate that.”
“Because that is not our way,” he said. “It is in our nature to protect, not destroy. Why do you think I escorted you last night? It wasn’t to harm you.” He shook his head. “Never.” He took her hand in his. “Come, let’s walk.”
They passed through lush green ferns among the trees. “I’ve been forbidden from crossing over to the gargoyle land since I was a child,” Kayla revealed. “They said you were not to be trusted, that you attacked our coven, but I never understood why.”
Mason’s expression turned grim. “The story I’ve heard from my clan is this. Our numbers dwindled over the past decades. The elders were dying out and women weren’t having new young.” He rubbed his chin before continuing. “They blamed the tree witches, thinking only they were powerful enough to conjure such magic.”
Kayla’s mouth dropped. “That’s black magic. That’s not the way we work.” She put her hand on her hips and stared at him with both defiance and disbelief. “Why would we do such a thing?”
“I didn’t say it,” Mason said in a reassuring tone. “I’m telling you the stories I’ve heard.”
“And did they say why the evil tree witches would curse them this way?”
“Aye. So the coven could take control of the entire island.”
“What?” Her voice came out louder than she’d intended.
“Once all the gargoyles were gone, they could spread across the land. With us out of the way, it would be easier for them to take on the wolves.”
“Wait a minute.” She blinked while forming coherent thoughts. “You’re saying this quarrel between our clans is a dispute over land?” She threw her hands out in despair. “There’s plenty of space here for all of us to live—and spread out!”
“No, not just land,” Mason added. “Revenge. Many gargoyles were killed. They believed the witches were trying to destroy our entire race.”
She didn’t know what to say. If what he said was true, her ancestors attempted genocide on an entire race of the island in greed for more land. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.
Could it?
Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts, the accusations tearing her apart.
“What is it?” Mason said. “I see I’ve upset you.”
“I need to go.” She turned and fled into the woods.
He caught up with her. “No, stop.” He commanded, but in a softer voice added, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I—it’s just—um…” she didn’t know how to finish her thoughts. Throwing her hands up in frustration, she said, “Do you believe it’s true? Do you think I’m so heartless and greedy I could murder your kind for land?”
“I didn’t say you,” Mason said through a tightened jaw.
“But you said all these terrible things about the witches. I am one.”
He gazed at her with conflicting emotions flashing from his eyes. “I know. That’s what makes it so difficult.”
“Difficult for what?” she said, exasperated.
He took a step closer and cupped her cheek. “To walk away.” He tilted her head back and searched her eyes. “Because inside, I know you aren’t capable of such evil.” His eyes dropped to her lips.
Frustration was replaced by raw need. The space between them again shimmered with a surge of energy she couldn’t quite place. But whatever it was between them was magnetic, powerful, and
difficult to ignore. She’d never experienced a connection like this, one that gripped her soul with its intensity.
“I do wonder about the power of a witch,” he said. “Because of the effect you’ve had on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m consumed with thoughts of you. Have you bewitched me?”
“Bewitched you?” She repeated. “As in given you a potion or cast a spell to make you fall in love with me?”
He nodded. “Aye. That’s exactly what I’m wondering.”
“No, Mason.” She put her hands on her hips. “Why would you accuse me that way?”
“It’s not an accusation. Just a question.”
“I have no need of bewitching anyone to care for me,” she turned away so he couldn’t see her eyes blazing with tears of anger. “That’s cheating,” she spewed through gritted teeth. “And I’m not a cheat.”
“No offense was intended.” He stroked her shoulder and down her shoulder blade.
She didn’t reply, still bothered by his words, but his touch left her breathing ragged.
“These feelings are not ones I’m familiar with,” he added in a milder tone. “I couldn’t help but wonder where they came from.”
His fingers traveling over her skin confused her emotions, calming the rage within and stoking her desire.
“Well, I have no control over what you feel,” she declared. “It’s all you.”
He whispered, “I hope it’s reciprocal.”
The warmth of his breath on her ear made her tremble. “Reciprocal?”
“Aye. Have you thought about me at all?”
Every waking moment. “I have.” The words lingered on her tongue.
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. His lips curled into a smile.
“Have you thought of me doing this?” He pressed his lips to her neck. Her already heated flesh simmered under his touch.