by Lyndi Lamont
Ilona’s Wolf
Lyndi Lamont
About Ilona’s Wolf
(Steamy Fantasy Romance)
While picking herbs in the woods, Princess Ilona is rescued from a woodsman by a wolf. When the creature licks her wounds, it is suddenly transformed into a man. A very handsome, very naked man who makes passionate love to her in a glade. She has dreamed of a handsome knight to aid her cause, but a werewolf?
Cursed by an evil wizard, Rolf was trapped in wolf form until he tasted the blood of a royal. Now he must escort the princess on a hazardous journey back to the castle to stop an ill-fated wedding and face the evil wizard who placed the evil curse on Rolf.
Passion flares between them, but both know there is no future for a princess and a werewolf. Or is there? In a world where magic and passion combine, anything may be possible.
(Previously published by Amber Quill Press, 2008)
Note: This is an 18,000 word novella, not a full-length novel.
Reviews for Ilona’s Wolf
Blue Ribbon Rating: 4.5… “ILONA’S WOLF is a unique twist upon an old familiar fairytale. Ms. Lamont has woven a fine tale filled with warm characters, passion and action that will satisfy any mature reader.”
– ladybirdrobi, Romance Junkies
“Ilona’s Wolf has to be one of the hottest werewolf e-books I’ve ever read, and I love the way Lyndi Lamont blends steamy romance, fantasy and fairy tales. The hero, Rolf, is sexy but also loving. I recommend this story to anyone who likes werewolf romance.”
– author Cassandra Curtis
Copyright © 2008, 2013 Linda McLaughlin (writing as Lyndi Lamont)
ISBN-10: 0989110133
ISBN-13: 978-0-98911013-6
Cover Art by Lacey Savage, copyright © 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Note: This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
About ILONA’S WOLF
Reviews for ILONA’S WOLF
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
About the Author
Coming Soon
About MAROONED
About HOW TO WOO… A RELUCTANT BRIDE
Chapter One
Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Velosia, magic was more precious than gold. The few who possessed it were highly prized, for not everyone could learn to wield the magic, only those who were sorcerers born.
Unscrupulous men tried to control the sorcerers, to use the magic for their own purposes. For power, wealth and control. But the magicians paid a terrible price. For in this world, magic was designed to do good. Use of magic for selfish or evil reasons drained them of their power. And so the villains of the kingdom continually sought new sources of the precious magic.
Now an evil sorcerer schemed to gain control of the kingdom. What he could not bewitch, he tried to destroy. One courageous knight stood in the way, until he was cursed and banished.
Our story begins with a young woman in a crimson cloak walking through the forest, followed by a woodsman and a wolf. A familiar tale, you might say. Ah, but she is no common girl, and this is no ordinary wolf.
*
The wolf trotted through the forest, head up, senses extending outward, alert for danger. He’d been running for his life forever, or so it seemed. The smell of lust came first, musky and tinged with violence. He paused, sniffed deeply, then changed direction and speed, loping toward the scent, for now he sensed another—sweet, innocent and frightened. Soon he heard the rustling of feet on dry leaves. Two sets of feet, one following the other.
Protect, defend, avenge. The words pounded in his brain, though he knew not why.
Protect, defend, avenge. Running now, he raced toward the two humans, fearing what would happen if he were too late.
*
Ilona ran along the forest path, using her power to push away the branches barring her path. A foreboding sense of danger pervaded her senses, and she castigated herself for coming alone to gather herbs in the woods.
Footsteps pounded behind her, growing ever closer. Her heart raced, and she gasped for breath as she fought to keep fear at bay. Fear would diminish her powers.
The path suddenly ended at the edge of a raging stream. The waters rushed by, swollen from spring run-off. How deep was it? What was worse, facing her pursuer or risking her life in the water? She focused on a vine hanging from a tree on the opposite side of the stream and tried to nudge it toward her. If she could grab hold, it would swing her over the torrent.
The sound of pursuit increased, and she spun around to see a man standing at the edge of the trees. He was young and strong, but danger radiated from him, as did a rank odor. His leering expression sent a chill down her spine. She glanced around and saw a smaller path along the water’s edge and sidestepped toward it.
He jumped forward as she turned and ran for the path, but he grabbed her by her cloak.
She tugged at it, but he held on tight.
“Let me go.”
“What’s your hurry, pretty maid?”
She turned to face him. He was a woodsman to judge by the ax hanging from the belt at his waist. The bulge in his breeches told her he meant no good. He towered over her, lust mixed with anger streaming from every pore.
“You gave me quite a chase, but you wasn’t fast enough, was you?”
She backed up, summoning all her powers. “Please, leave me alone. I’ve done naught to harm you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Think you be too good for me, do you? You with your fine red cloak.”
She eyed a hefty branch a few feet away, but tried, once more, to use reason. “Nay, I never said so. ’Tis just that I know you not.”
“No matter.” He reached for her hair with a grubby hand, and she flinched away.
Desperate now she summoned the branch with her mind. It slammed into his arm, the one still clutching her cloak.
He yelped and grasped his injured arm. “Witch!”
She turned to run, but he grabbed her again and slammed her into a tree. She grunted as her head smashed into the trunk, her basket of herbs flying out of her hand.
Injured arm dangling, he backhanded her with his good hand. “That’ll teach you.”
Woozy, she slid to the ground and watched as he started to unlace his breeches, his movements awkward. Blood dripped from her split lip, and her head pounded from the impact with the tree. She tried to summon enough power to fling another branch at him, but it was hard to concentrate. Suddenly, she sensed danger from yet another source.
“Wolf!” she cried.
The woodsman stared down at her. “There be no wolves around here. Stop your stalling, girlie.”
“Yes,” she insisted. In her mind she saw the wolf racing through the forest, sensed its blood lust. She fought down the fear, knowing it weakened her. Gods, was she destined to be ravished and devoured on the same day?
Then she heard the creature approaching. It bounded out of the woods and stood, snarling, lifted its head and let out a blood-curdling howl. The woodsman took one look at the fierce creature and ran off down the path. The wolf chased after him, then wheeled and trotted back toward her.
She sat frozen, her back to the tree. Oh, gods, don’t let it see me. She tried t
o cast an invisibility spell, but to no avail. The wolf looked at her, golden eyes gleaming, mouth open, showing off large, sharp teeth. She closed her eyes and gripped her throat with both hands. Quaking with terror, she listened as the animal padded toward her. She felt its hot breath on her cheek.
Opening her eyes a slit, she stared into the face of the wolf. Sad eyes stared at her, and her fears receded. Perhaps he’d been tamed. She reached out with what was left of her powers, but sensed no immediate danger. “Good wolf,” she stammered.
She held out one shaking fist, and the wolf sniffed it before licking her knuckles. It moved closer, sniffing her clothing. To her surprise, the animal hunkered down beside her and laid its head on her leg. Carefully, she touched it, stroking the soft fur.
Relief flooded through her. Saved by a wolf, of all creatures. “Thank the gods you showed up when you did. I’d no wish to be ravished by the likes of him.”
The wolf lifted its head and seemed to smile up at her, mouth open, tongue lolling.
She smiled at the canine as she continued to pet it. “Grateful I am for you rescuing me, but ’tis not exactly what a girl dreams of. Where’s my knight on a white steed? ’Tis he who is supposed to do the rescuing.”
When the wolf lowered his head, sniffing between her legs, she laughed and pushed it away. “Rude creature.”
The animal responded by sitting up and resting its head on her breast. She put both arms around it and hugged it close, dropping a kiss on its head. “Do not misunderstand, Sir Wolf, but I still wish you were a knight. A strong, handsome knight like my Werner.”
The familiar sadness filled her at the memory of her husband. “I miss him so much, you know. Dagmar says another knight will come for me, a handsome knight to protect us and make sweet, passionate love to me.”
The wolf whined and raised his head to lick her cheek. Laughing, she tried to push him away, but he licked her full on the mouth. She closed her eyes, stunned when her powers came rushing back, like a flood of magic coursing around her.
Turning aside, she summoned her basket to her side. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wolf jump up, staring at the basket. Her vision seemed to blur as the wolf’s face slowly became humanlike, then shifted back. She must have hit her head harder than she’d thought if she was seeing things. She closed her eyes and shook her head, but the aching had receded.
When she peeked again, the wolf was gone, and a naked man crouched in front of her. A handsome, well-built man with shaggy brown hair and golden brown eyes.
“Who are you?” she gasped.
Rolf stared at the auburn-haired woman, then down at his own naked form. What in Hades had just happened?
“You’re a werewolf!” She scooted away from him.
He reached a hand toward her. “Yes, but fear not. I would never hurt you.”
She stopped backing away and studied him, her green eyes wide with shock and wonder. “I believe you,” she said slowly. “You had every chance to kill me, but you did not.”
“I should hope not. But how did I get here?” His memory was hazy as it always was when he transformed suddenly.
“There was a woodsman. He was going to rape me, maybe kill me,” The woman shivered. “He was angry. You chased him off.”
“Yes.” Now he remembered his wolf senses picking up the scent of lust and fear. He’d run toward the humans and chased the man off. Then he’d licked the blood off the woman’s face. Blood, there was something important about blood. If only he could remember.
She stood, holding onto a tree, then undid the clasp on her cloak and handed it to him. “You must be cold.”
Suddenly aware of his nakedness, he took the garment and wrapped it around his waist as he rose to his feet. “Thank you.”
She smiled at him, and warmth flooded through him. “No thanks are necessary. After all, you saved me, not the other way around.”
He smiled at her. “On the contrary, you brought me back to human form.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about? You are a werewolf, aren’t you? You should be able to change at will.”
Rolf sorted through the shifting images that made up his recent memories. All he could remember was a succession of days wandering aimlessly through the woods, searching for something out of reach. How long had it been—days, weeks, perhaps months? He had no idea. “I have not been able to change for a long time.”
“Why not?”
He shook his head. “I cannot recall. But we should move away from here, in case the woodsman returns.”
The woman looked at her basket and it flew into her hand.
He raised his brows. “You’re a sorceress.”
She stared at him warily. “Yes. Is that a surprise?”
“Everything that has happened today was a surprise.” He frowned, trying to remember. “I think someone put a spell on me, to keep me in wolf form.”
Her brows rose in surprise. “Such a spell would require powerful magic.”
“Yes, it would.” The vision of a dark-haired man appeared in his mind and suddenly he remembered who was to blame for his condition, though the details still escaped him. “’Twas the most powerful wizard in the land.”
She gaped at him. “You were cursed by Bruno of Grimmdorn, the king’s sorcerer? Who are you?”
He gave her a formal bow, suitable for court. “Forgive my manners. I am Rolf of Klosterlupe, a knight of the king’s guard.”
She continued to stare at him as her face turned pink. Why was she embarrassed?
“I was merely jesting,” she stammered.
“About what?” he asked, and then remembered her telling the wolf—telling him—how she wanted to be rescued by a knight who’d make sweet, passionate love to her. His prick responded under the concealing cloak. Well, if coitus was what she really wanted…
He took a step toward her and reached out to touch her auburn curls. “You have not told me your name.”
She gazed at him, her green eyes dilating. “They call me Ilona Rez.”
Ilona of the red hair. A fitting by-name. “’Tis good to meet you, Ilona Rez.”
He cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to hers, noting her split lip was nearly healed. He kept the kiss gentle, not wanting to hurt her.
When he pulled back, she touched her lips, a look of wonder on her face. “My lip is healed. How could that be?”
He smiled at her puzzlement. “I licked it.”
“So you did. I had no idea werewolves had healing powers.”
He brushed the tangled hair from her face. “There is a great deal of nonsense spread about my kind. Did the brute hurt you anywhere else?”
“My head ached where it hit the tree, but the wolf, I mean, you licked that, too, and it feels better.”
He dropped a kiss on the rapidly healing bruise on her forehead. “But you are still weak?”
She nodded. “A little.”
His brow furrowed. “Is there aught I can do to help?”
Ilona hesitated, tempted to say yes, knowing there was but one way he could help. Thanks to the wolf’s kiss, her magic was stronger than it had been in years, but she knew what could heighten it even more. Lovemaking would increase her powers tenfold, for nothing in Velosia was more potent than sex magic. She should not, of course, but she was drawn to Rolf, wanting his touch on her body, wanting to touch him in return and bring him to arousal. Her lips still tingled from the kiss he’d bestowed on her earlier. The sweet caress had sent a surge of power up her spine and a twinge of need through her loins. It made no sense to want him after what had nearly happened with the woodsman, but she did. With a pang of guilt, she acknowledged Werner had been gone a long time, and she’d missed being loved by a man.
This man was a stranger, though her senses told her he had a good soul. May the gods help her, he wasn’t even a man. She started to say no, then heard herself blurt out, “You could let me make love to you.”
A shocked expression flashed briefly across his face
, then a slow smile appeared. “I would enjoy that, sweet maiden. But are you certain?” he asked softly.
She smiled at Rolf, and then remembered where they were. “Yes, but not here. This spot may not be safe. If only we could cross the stream…”
He untied her cloak from around his waist and fastened it at her throat. Then he lifted her into his arms and waded into the creek. Ilona wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, but his footing was sure, even though the water swirled rapidly around his legs. She reveled in the warmth and strength of his body.
When he set her down on the other side of the stream, she led him between the trees until she found a small, shady grove. “This will do.”
Taking off her red cloak, she spread it on the ground, and then turned to face her naked companion. He stood before her, resplendent in his masculinity. His body was large and strong, with the well-defined muscles of a man who hefted a sword for a living. Her husband had been built like this, though he was fairer, with little body hair. Rolf’s chest was covered with dark hair that trailed down to his groin where his erect cock stood up proudly. His legs were long and sturdy. Looking at him now, it was hard to believe that just moments ago he’d been a wolf.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare all afternoon?” His amused tone and self-satisfied smile galvanized her into action.
“Not all afternoon.” Smiling, she untied the girdle around her waist and removed her gray, homespun kirtle, hanging it on a nearby branch. Clad only in her linen smock, she sat on the ground to take off her shoes. After untying her garters, she glanced at Rolf through lowered lashes. “Would you like to help?”
He joined her on the cloak and slowly rolled one stocking down her leg, caressing her skin as he went. Then he repeated his actions with the other stocking. She moved to a kneeling position and let him remove her smock. The admiration of his gaze warmed her.
“You’re beautiful, Ilona.”
Slowly he reached out to touch her hair, twining a curl around his finger. He ran his other hand up her side to cup her breast, running his thumb over the nipple until it hardened. The muscles of her sex clenched in response, and she let her eyes drift closed.