by Unknown
Monika gasped. “Oh, so do I. Don’t overtax yourself unless you’re ready to birth him.”
“Very ready.” She groaned. “I’m just going to walk some supper up to Papa Josef and Hans. They’re building a new stall for Helga’s calf, which isn’t such a calf anymore.”
“So soon?”
Irma smiled. “Yes, which means you’ll be helping me churn more when she’s of age!” She chuckled and waddled out the door.
Monika laughed at her departing friend, then hurried around the cottage to gather the supplies she needed for the second day of her ritual. Though she believed Father God and Mother Earth had granted her request for a soul mate in Broderick, she would use the last two scheduled days of the ritual for thanksgiving and celebration, ensuring she stayed faithful in her commitment to the ceremony. Now that she had Broderick on which to concentrate her spirit, she hoped it would redirect the results to him specifically instead of all this unwanted attention from these other men that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
At sunset, Broderick would come to call. She smiled and breathed deep, anticipation bubbling in her belly.
* * * * *
Thomas slowed to a stop as Monika emerged from the small cottage at the corner of the town platz. She held her basket on her forearm and a few blankets over her shoulder, her dark-brown hair cascading out of the back of the simple blue kerchief on her head. A few stray tendrils brushed against her cheek as she leaned into the cottage and closed the door behind her, drawing his eyes to her full, red lips. He had bided his time at the inn, giving Monika the opportunity to go home and settle in for a couple of hours. Wonderful timing, my dear. He strutted forward, making a small effort to keep a casual pace. Though he was eager to engage with her, he didn’t want to appear so. But she turned away from him and clipped through the platz toward the road disappearing into the forest. She hadn’t even seen him.
He frowned. With a quick glance around the empty platz, he approached the dwelling and peeked into the window, leaning on the sill. Thomas grew weak and his legs wobbled, dropping him to one knee. He backed away from the cottage and glared at the dwelling. The lethargy passed and he wondered if she had already concocted the ward from her mother’s recipes.
His mouth pressed into a grim line. Women didn’t resist him. It was just a simple fact. Monika was no different. Every time she came near, her thick scent of lust enveloped him. Because Monika knew of his condition, he was certain that was the only thing getting in the way of their coupling. He could understand her apprehensions about being involved with the type of creature that tore her family apart. Once she found the cure, though, his condition would no longer be an obstacle. Monika seemed to be a woman who stood by her convictions, so she would betray her own sensibilities if she considered becoming involved with him. Her resistance did make the chase a bit sweeter. Let her play her games. I’ll have her begging to fuck me before this is over. He grinned. Monika had already rounded the bend in the road, so he traipsed casually after her.
He stuck to the road and kept his footsteps light, even though she had diverted from the main path and into the woods. As she traversed deeper into the brush, he caught glimpses of her dark waves and blue kerchief peeking through the branches and trunks, but it was becoming more difficult to keep an eye on her. When he was relatively sure he was far enough away from her to remain unannounced, he crossed into the brush and gingerly pursued.
Was she perhaps gathering more herbs for the work he’d commissioned her for? The determined pace she’d set told him she had a definite purpose. What he hoped to gain by following her, he couldn’t guess at this moment. Mayhap to satisfy his curiosity. He’d originally planned to pay her a visit to meet on her grounds, to use her own surroundings to help her feel more comfortable around him. He was going to offer another apology, for her benefit, to hopefully smooth things over. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. The subtle desire flaring in her eyes whenever she looked at him was obvious. Soon enough. She was close to a cure. He knew it.
Thomas ducked behind a bush. Monika had stopped by a coppice, behind which she disappeared. The crackling of branches and leaves hissed and snapped around the forest. What is she doing? During the ruckus of activity, he crouched and crept closer, positioning himself for a better view, and settled behind a cluster of bushes. He was only a few feet from the line of dense trees that seemed to surround a small clearing, which was the object of Monika’s attention. Using a short branch like a broom, she brushed the ground of leaves and sticks, wiping the area clean.
He leaned to and fro to find the best angle in which to see her, careful not to rattle the brush. A nice parting between the trunks afforded him an excellent perspective of her doings. He crouched comfortably, the sound of his movements lost in her rustling and preparations.
Blanket spread and stones in a circle, she proceeded to build a small fire. Very interesting that the flames almost seemed to respond to her hands, as if entranced to do her bidding. Then she rose to hang the remaining blankets over the wider breaks in the trees. She apparently sought either solitude or privacy. How intriguing.
She knelt before the fire once more and raised her hands to the sky, mumbling with her husky voice. After she’d lit candles and hailed the four directions, he concluded she was casting a spell…but for what? He couldn’t really determine what herbs she ground in her mortar and pestle, but since she wasn’t using her leather gloves, he didn’t think the ingredients included the wolfsbane. She tossed the contents of the mortar into the fire while reciting phrases he couldn’t quite make out except for the words “soul mate”. He smiled. A love spell? Perhaps she was out here for him.
He hitched his breath.
Monika disrobed.
Chapter Seven
After folding her clothes, delightfully bending over before Thomas, Monika unbound her hair from the kerchief. Tossing the cloth to the folded pile of clothes, she shook her dark-brown waves, which cascaded down her bare back to brush just above the perfect, round globes of her buttocks.
Blood surged to Thomas’s groin so fast, his cock ached and strained against his breeches. From his crouching position, he fell forward onto his knees and crunched loudly in the dried leaves. Monika whirled around, her arm clutched across her breasts and the other hand at her crotch. A rabbit scampered and dashed from barely two feet in front of his hiding spot, drawing her attention away from Thomas.
He remained frozen.
After her wide eyes followed the rodent—which scuttled away from the scene—Monika sighed and dropped her face into her hands and chuckled. Shaking her head, she inhaled deeply and sighed. Now facing toward him, she sat down on the blanket, laid back and spread her lovely legs with her knees raised. The small clearing must have had a slight incline, for it gave him the perfect view up her belly to her luscious breasts. From the dark curls framing the treasure between her thighs to her full, pouty mouth, Thomas gawked at Monika’s flawless glory. And almost as if the heavens were blessing this very moment, streams of sunlight speared through branches and leaves of the forest on its descent into sundown. The sun exposed every detail of her body.
He sat enraptured as her hands smoothed over her skin, exploring her breasts, pinching her nipples and thrusting her mounds together as her slender fingers squeezed her plump flesh. Her lips parted and she moaned. Her hips rose from the blanket, her succulent bottom clenching tight. Thomas thrust his hand into his trousers and grabbed his rock-hard cock, already slick with dew at the head. His mouth went dry as her fingers slid down her stomach, between her thighs and parted her nether lips. Widening her legs, her other hand joined the sensuous caresses. The index and middle finger of one hand held her lips wide while she flicked and stroked her clitoris and silken folds with her other hand.
Thomas trembled, exerting great effort to maintain control over his breathing, straining not to groan aloud at the sexual goddess before him. He contemplated a moment, debating with himself on whether or not he should run int
o that circle and plunge his cock inside her. He gripped his shaft tight over the images such a thought invoked, and closed his eyes, losing himself in the fantasy of grabbing her hips and pounding her wet slit. Thomas shuddered. She would hardly be receptive to him and he wanted that cure.
He opened his eyes, resigned to enjoy her display instead.
As she stroked her glistening kunte, her fingers vibrating and teasing, sparkling with her dew in the waning sunlight, Thomas stroked his staff. Breeches now open, he gripped his rod in one hand and massaged his ballocks with the other, his eyes transfixed on Monika.
Panting, she thrust her hips up and down, riding her fingers and moaning softly. Thomas pumped his length, again envisioning himself buried inside that wet, hot center between her legs. He grabbed her hips and bucked against her, and Monika’s moans urged him to fuck her harder, deeper. Long, penetrating thrusts, his penis slick with her juices, his veins bulging over the surface of his erection, her core sucking around him, milking him for more. He dropped his head back and squeezed his cock harder, ready to burst. The musky scent of her sex wafted around him and his nostrils flared. He resisted the urge to growl.
Sweet, melodious tones of ecstasy fluttered from Monika as she climaxed, her head tossing to one side. Thomas spilled his seed and shuddered, gritting his teeth as he emptied himself, splattering onto the leaves in the bush before him. Mouth gaping, he made every effort to keep his labored breathing silent by forcing it in and out, slow and deep.
Monika laid motionless, save for the rise and fall of her breasts. Thomas dared not move for fear of being caught with his prick in his hands. She rolled to her side and raised up on her hip, a sensuous smile spreading over her full lips in the orange glow of the fire. Curling her legs beneath her, she raised her arms, palms to the sky, and mumbled something incoherent. As Monika dressed, Thomas tucked himself back into his trousers and tied his leather laces, securing his breeches. He hunkered down carefully and smiled at his semen clinging to the branches. His cock twitched in remembrance.
Once she’d performed a couple of hand gestures, turning in a circle, she murmured a few more husky words and sighed, a grin of contentment upon her mouth. Thomas gawked as she plunged her hands into the fire. Her arms glowed molten red as she seemingly sucked the heat of the fire into her limbs. The smoke dissipated on the wind and she dusted the ash from her hands. Monika engrossed herself in sweeping the dried leaves from the side of the clearing, spreading them back across the ground.
Thomas sat dumbfounded for several moments, then snapped out of his trance. When her back was facing him, Thomas used the noisy activity to slip away from the scene through the growing darkness.
He stopped by the main road, glancing left and right, and emerged from the brush once he was sure he was alone. He rubbed his hand over his face. Witches had a lot more secrets than what some curly script concealed. Thomas sighed, relieved he had not walked into that circle and had his way with her after all. Who knew what she was capable of? He paced the road, digesting this new information. And confronting her about it was out of the question, or he would reveal he’d seen her little sexual display.
It was obvious she was attracted to him and this werewolf curse was the only thing getting in the way. He nodded. He would easily win her over. And what an ally she would be! He chuckled. She would most certainly be a delight to bed! That girl had a bold passion, as most decent women he’d known would not dare do such a thing in private, let alone in the woods and risk being seen. His cock stiffened at the thought and he clutched his groin. Yes, a woman like that would excite him on command and his bed would never be cold…especially with her! He laughed at his own joke.
A familiar tingling started at Thomas’s appendages and he snapped his gaze to the sky. A midnight blue shroud had covered the forest, the last tendrils of daylight fading on the horizon past the trees in purple and pink streaks. The tingling crept up from his fingers and toes, then shot through his arms and legs, clashing into his torso, and he doubled over, grunting. No! Not here! He scrambled across the road and into the opposite clutch of trees, crashing through brush and branches. The yellow haze of his wolf vision bled into view, brightening the terrain around him and he increased his pace. Breath and legs pumping, he drove himself deeper into the woods. Branches whipped his face, lashing his skin. Tears of blood ran down his cheeks. The inevitable heaviness filled his gut and spread throughout his body, slowing his pace as if he waded through mud. Reaching behind his neck, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the ground. Just as he finished pulling off his boots and stripping his legs of his trousers, he fell to his knees, naked and clutching dry leaves in his fists. His body trembled and a thin line of spittle dripped from his mouth.
“God, let this end,” he gasped.
Thomas arched his back and a gargled cry ripped from him as the dreaded process began. He grunted as his spine snapped and contorted. A licking fire coursed from his chest and coiled up his throat, forcing another groan from his lips. Muscles across his body bubbled and roiled, tugging and twisting his bones as they crunched, transmogrifying his human shape into the snarling beast he despised. He jerked and quivered, flexed his arms and legs straight and then curled into a ball and wept. Hair growth sizzled over his skin, hissing as his body hair lengthened to a wiry, black pelt. Thomas panted and groaned as he rose on all fours and gritted his teeth as the final stage of change sliced through his head. His jaw and nose elongated, a tortured cry aching to burst forth, but he could only grunt and whimper. His teeth lengthened and he wailed at the sky, the man’s cry morphing into the howl of the wolf.
* * * * *
Broderick finished the task of tying his hair back with a thin strip of leather, then secured his sword at his hip. He gritted his teeth and paced his cabin, a hard-on still straining against his breeches in spite of the relief he just gave himself. More sexual dreams with Davina…with Monika. Prior to the sexual portion of the dream, she was arguing with the raven-haired man who caused her such irritation the night before. Rick would need to learn more about this rogue with ice-blue eyes.
But the sensuous and erotic visions were primary and they flashed before his eyes now, so intense and vivid. So much like Davina’s Amorous Invitations. After he’d told his wife about the erotic dreams he had of her—due to her thoughts about him during the day—Davina devised a sensuously devious plan. She purposefully sequestered herself away in their chamber, dressed in gossamer, silk robes he’d had shipped from China just for her. And lying on their bed, she focused on making love to Broderick…in extreme and intricate detail. The images of his dreams teased him into a frenzy. When he awakened, he hadn’t taken the time to dress, but clamored up the stone staircase from his underground lair, taking four and five steps at a time, and burst through the hidden panel into their chamber—naked and with a raging hard-on. Spread upon their bed, with her hands roaming her curves and a seductive grin on her lush mouth, Davina taunted Broderick. He ravished his wife, much to her delight…and his ultimate ecstasy. He could never get enough of her, especially on those nights.
What did all this mean? If Monika was indeed Davina, which seemed more and more plausible by the moment, then she had to have been intensely focused on making love to Broderick during the day. The woman had no idea what she was doing to him.
Where to feed tonight should be my current thought. He left his cabin and he stood a moment in the small hallway. His cock throbbed. Clenching his jaw, he grabbed himself. “Down, brute!” He positioned his sporran low on his hips to cover his groin and ascended the stairs to the main deck.
“Evenin’ Cap—” Andrew’s eyes grew wide. “You all right, Cap’n?”
“Aye. Why?” Broderick scowled.
Andrew swallowed. “Oh, nothin’ in particular. I’m just a-prayin’ I’m not the one you be angry with.”
Broderick sighed. “My apologies.” He patted Andrew on the shoulder. “You’re not the object of my wrath.”
His first mate relaxed. “Then you have yourself a fine evenin’, Cap’n.”
Broderick chuckled and hopped over the port side. Striding down the wharf, he stalked out of Vollstadt and on the road toward Kostbar. He remembered seeing a few farmhouses along the path and thought it best to hunt on quieter grounds to avoid the tumultuous emotions usually roiling around crowds.
A wolf howl echoed across the forest.
What in blazes. He cursed under his breath. A blood-curdling scream wrenched through the darkness and Broderick dashed through the trees toward the source. Trunks and bushes flew by him in a blur and he skirted the village of Kostbar, rounding to the south side of the tiny establishment.
“Lord have mercy on my soul.” A simple shepherd’s lamp trembled in the hand of a middle-aged woman, her face as ashen as the gray hair upon her head. A thin line of blood dripped from the gash on her forehead.
Standing on its hind legs, its long front arms out to the sides and claws bared, a hulking werewolf snarled and towered over the defenseless woman.
Broderick drew his sword. “Your battle is with me, beast!”
The woman collapsed to the ground, fainting and dropping her lantern. The wolfman spun to face Broderick and lunged with a roar. With little time to defend, Rick leapt to the side and slashed with his sword as he tumbled to the ground. He sprang to his feet just as the animal hurdled a felled tree, leaping into the air. Ducking, he shouldered the werewolf’s underside and flipped it over his back, twirling to face it with sword at the ready. But the creature had crashed through the brush and disappeared into the darkness, its retreating footsteps fading in the distance. He stood still, ears inclined toward the retreating animal, waiting to see if it would circle around for another attack. Blood dripped from his sword. At least he had wounded it.
A puff and crackle drew his attention to the woman lying on the ground. Her lantern had caught fire to some leaves. Broderick righted the lamp, still lit, and stomped out the flames on the ground. Sheathing his sword, he knelt beside her and blotted the blood at her temple with his kerchief. Since he hadn’t yet fed, he exerted extra effort to keep The Hunger at bay.