Fires Of Solstice Part 3

"He comes," Eibhlin said.

The druid grasped her arm. "You must go now. He'll be angry if he sees you here."

Her nostrils flared. "I have as much right to be here as you do."

Rhys shook his head. "He's had enough trouble accepting what he must do. Having to mount the girl before your eyes..."

Meredythe shuddered. This couldn't be happening!

Eibhlin jerked her arm free and nodded once, sharply. "Mind her then. And have him bring her to me when the ceremony is complete. Mayhap I can soothe her shock." Muttering blasphemies under her breath, she pulled her hood back over her hair and disappeared into the shadowy oak grove.

The druid turned back to Meredythe. "Open your eyes. I know you're awake."

Meredythe stiffened but complied. Angry tears spilled down her cold cheeks as she clenched her teeth. She jerked her wrists impotently against her bonds then spat, "I will not do this! You cannot ask this of me!"

The howls of the wolves grew closer and she shuddered. Her anger drained away to be replaced with fear. In a voice barely above a whisper, she pleaded, "Let me go. Please."

Pity momentarily flashing in his eyes, he stepped to her side and patted her shoulder. "Do not fear, child. Your destiny approaches." Then, as an afterthought he added, "He will not harm you."

As the wailing pipes and thundering drums reached a crescendo, the druid turned away from her and raised his oak staff above his head. Tendrils of dark green mistletoe richly swathed in small, white berries dangled along its length. "Behold," he proclaimed in a powerful voice, "he comes."

The drums and pipes ceased abruptly.

Meredythe strained her eyes, trying to see into the shadows beyond the bonfire. The howling of the wolves rose to an earsplitting crescendo and suddenly ceased. Only the hungry roar of the fire punctuated the silence. The pagan worshipers waited tensely, all eyes turned toward the shadowed forest. Even the dark seemed to wait with breathless antic.i.p.ation. Jerking harder against her silken bonds, she searched deep within herself for the anger that had sustained her thus far. She would not sit meekly and sacrifice her virginity to some man on a druid's altar. She would fight. Besides, if she could become angry enough, she could keep at least some of her fear at bay and not scream with the terror that threatened to overwhelm her.

A sudden movement drew her eyes to the edge of the clearing where black and gray wisps of night swirled and eddied. A single, triumphant howl reverberated around the clearing as the blackness deepened. Gradually, a form materialized.

Meredythe bit down on her bottom lip to still its trembling when a naked man stepped into the dim light. Violent shudders racked her body as he trod toward the dais, skirting the bonfire that now illuminated his features. Stormy gray eyes were locked on her. His cheekbones were high, his chin firm. His lips were drawn into a slim, angry line. His nostrils flared as if to catch her scent. Thick, black tangles cascaded about his broad shoulders and down his back. Muscular arms relaxed at the sides of his broad chest as his long stride carried him across the clearing.

He was the most compelling man she'd ever seen...and he terrified her.

When he stopped before the dais, she pressed herself back against the smooth wood. Jerking more frantically against her bonds, she still raised her chin defiantly as his gaze traveled the length of her body. By the blessed White Lady, she would not cower before him.

Stepping closer, he loomed over her.

She refused to lower her eyes. She would not look there, between his thighs where his c.o.c.k hung, thick and heavy. Trembling, she spat, "Get away from me, h.e.l.l sp.a.w.n."

He recoiled sharply. Then, eyes narrowing, he bent toward her.

Before he could touch her, the old druid stopped him.

"Wait, Bleddyn, your worshipers seek your blessing."

"They do not worship me," the younger man growled, his stormy gray gaze never leaving her. "This is simply an excuse to give their l.u.s.t free rein without worrying about the consequences. Release her and I'll take her to Eibhlin."

He did not want her! Meredythe released the breath she was holding when the druid grabbed the naked man's arm and pulled him away from her.

But the druid's words did not offer comfort. "I cannot. You must complete the ceremony. There is only one cure for the bloodl.u.s.t within you. You must take her tonight, under the Samhain moon."

He jerked his arm from the druid's grasp. "And what ancient laws demand an audience, old man? Why torture her like this? Why must I rut upon her like a stud in full view of his master? I am not an animal and she does not deserve this!"

The druid staggered back.

Hope momentarily flared in Meredythe's heart. The man, Bleddyn, was no more eager for this...ceremony than she was.

The druid raised his head to the sky and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. Slowly he straightened to his full height. In a low yet powerful voice he said, "Only under the light of the full moon, with the pure and untainted blood from your ordained mate, will the demon of l.u.s.t and carnage be driven from your soul.

Tonight is Samhain, a night of power. Those gathered here bring more power."

"Superst.i.tious nonsense!"

"Don't be a fool, young pup," the druid snapped. "Remember who I am."

A mirthless smile played about the younger man's lips. "Who you were."

Meredythe's eyes darted back to the druid. Only the slight widening of the old man'

s eyes betrayed how deeply that barb had struck. After what seemed an eternity, he acquiesced. He seemed to grow smaller before her eyes.

When he answered, his voice was softer, quieter. "Very well, who I was. But I have never lied to you."

Time seemed to stand still, but then taut muscles relaxed and a full, wolfish grin raced across the younger man's face. "No, old man, you have never lied to me."

Meredythe sagged with relief when he turned away from her and looked out over those who had a.s.sembled. Maybe he'd tell them all to go away. Her relief was short-lived. All fell to their knees. More than one woman, though, raised her head and greedily eyed his naked, muscular form.

The scent of l.u.s.t permeated the air.

From the back of the crowd, a male voice called out, "Take her, Bleddyn. Mount her. Mate. Be free."

Renewed fear stabbed at Meredythe's heart and she intensified her struggles, moaning as a splinter stabbed her wrist, but the silken cords were too tight. Biting her lip until blood dripped into her mouth, she raised her head when the druid stepped back to her side.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "but they will be satisfied with nothing else. Only this once..."

"Rape," she hissed, her gaze locked on Bleddyn's muscular back and taut b.u.t.tocks. "This is rape."

The druid simply shook his head. "They are drunk on mead and antic.i.p.ation. Without s.e.x, they'll rise up against us. Your fate will be even worse then." He lifted his hand and blew a white powder into her face. "Forgive me."

She coughed then stiffened when she inhaled the powder. Almost immediately, the world began to spin around her.

Bleddyn turned back to her as the crowd grew more raucous. She now sat immobile, muscles refusing to obey her.

A soft, incomprehensible oath escaped his lips. He jerked his head at Meredythe. "What have you done?"

"Calmed her," Rhys answered as he wiped his hands on his robe. "The effects are short-lived, but she must cooperate or the crowd-"

"d.a.m.n them to all the seven h.e.l.ls."

"Be gentle with her," the old man whispered as he stepped away.

Deep within her mind, Meredythe struggled to regain control of her body. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she ordered her body to fight, but her muscles refused to comply and all she could do was stare at the naked man before her.

For a moment, his chin dropped to his chest, misery evident in his gaze. "Forgive me this night. I'd give anything to take you away from this...travesty," he said in a low voice. "But I must be free of this bloodl.u.s.t! You are my only hope."

Leaning forward, he wiped the tears from her cheek, sorrow swimming in his soft gray eyes. "Perhaps the drug will make it easier for you. Later, when we're alone, I'll treat you more gently. I won't mount you again until you know me better."

Releasing Meredythe from her bonds, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her close to his chest. Stepping to the sheepskin-covered altar before the bonfire, he gently laid her down. Glancing about at the worshipers who drew closer, he growled audibly at the l.u.s.t blatantly evident on their faces.

A woman off to the left bared her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Internally, Meredythe shuddered though her body remained perfectly still.

Bleddyn ground his teeth and growled, "d.a.m.n them all!"

The wolves howled anew.

Turning his attention back to her, he brushed some stray curls from her face. She stared into his eyes, begging silently. He blinked quickly, but not before she saw his tears.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me," he whispered. Then his hands moved on her body.

Silent screams echoed though Meredythe's mind when he carefully slipped the shift from her shoulders and bared her chest. Cool air swept over her and her nipples puckered. Ever so gently, he traced the dark mole resembling the head of a howling wolf high on her left breast.

Ignoring the l.u.s.t-filled crowd gathered about him, he pulled her shift down her hips and legs, his gaze halting at V of her thighs. Meredythe's eyes widened when his shaft surged and jerked. Impotently, she willed her arms and legs to respond, to flee the violation to come.

Then the pregnant moon finally burst free of her cloudy prison and luminous white light bathed the clearing. The man at her side threw back his head to absorb her gentle light. Cords of muscle in his neck strained as he howled his triumph.

The wolves answered.

He slid his fingers between her thighs-testing, teasing, seeking a response.

Meredythe's scream echoed only in her mind.

Again the thunder of drums reverberated about the clearing.

Closing her eyes, Meredythe retreated deep into her subconscious, desperately trying to hide from what was to come. Locked away within herself, she would be safe, would feel nothing.

His supple fingers, however, became more and more insistent. She moaned low in her throat, his skilled caresses inexorably drawing her back to consciousness. Her body arched into his hand and she opened her eyes.

The ripe moon framed his powerful form as he bent over her. His stormy gray eyes stared deeply into hers. "Don't fight me. Please," he pleaded. "Just this once. Then I will take you away from here."

Sluggishly, she recoiled. "No!"

"Yes," he growled in a low voice. "We must."

She tried to struggle but her limbs refused to obey. The drug still controlled her.

Effortlessly, he locked his hands around her waist and turned her over. Leaping onto the altar, he knelt behind her, spreading her legs with a muscular thigh, the crisp hairs tickling and teasing the tender skin of her inner thighs.

The soft wool beneath her teased her nipples into aching points. He caressed and cupped her a.s.s, ma.s.saging and spreading each cheek. He slid his thumbs down between her thighs until he found the nub hidden in the soft folds of flesh. She moaned again when he pinched it. Her nipples tightened even more as shafts of tingling heat raced into her groin.

Meredythe buried her face in the sheepskins and sobbed. Why did her body welcome his touch when what he was doing was against all the laws of men and G.o.ds?

"Forgive me," he growled as he positioned her hips. His hard c.o.c.k brushed against the inside of her thigh. He slid it between her moist lips, guided the head into the opening of her quim and gathered himself for his first thrust.

Pflttttttt.

Pflttttttt. Pfltttttt.

Arrows fell like rain around them.

Meredythe's scream of pain echoed around the clearing when one arrow embedded itself deeply between her ribs. Blood spurted, its sweet smell filling her nostrils. The howls of the wolves changed from triumph to rage as she collapsed onto the altar.

Racked with pain, Meredythe stared through her tears at the b.l.o.o.d.y chaos that now surrounded them. The old druid was shouting and waving his arms wildly as more arrows arced through the sky. A burly, black-robed priest holding a huge cross before him led other mounted, sword-waving men toward them.

"Kill them," he screamed as his men attacked, slashing and stabbing anyone who moved. "In the name of our great and all-powerful G.o.d, kill the devil worshipers. Sacrilege and blasphemy!"

Blood gushed. Both men and women screamed as they were cut down.

"The girl. Save the girl," the priest bellowed as he watched the slaughter with a malicious, toothy grin.

An unearthly howl split the night to be answered by others deep in the shadows under the trees. Scores of wolves poured into the clearing, ripping and tearing at human flesh.

A fire burning in her side, Meredythe cried out as Bleddyn cradled her in his arms and rolled from the altar. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his shoulder. Darkness beckoned-a darkness that promised freedom from the horror of the last few days. She sighed. Yes. That's what she wanted. No horror. No pain. She floated toward the gentle darkness.

But his voice-Bleddyn's-refused to release her.

"No. Please, Meredythe, you must live. Don't leave me. I need you."

Struggling back through the pain, she forced her eyes open. Turbulent gray eyes filled with hopelessness and longing stared down at her. The silvery light of the moon bathed the two of them, filling her with a sense of peace and comfort. The gossamer form of a white-robed woman appeared behind him.

"Take me with you," she begged.

The woman's eyes met hers and she smiled. In that moment, Meredythe understood. Her life marched with Bleddyn's. She was his only hope, and he would never hurt her.

With the last of her strength, she lifted her hand and cupped his cheek.

"Bleddyn. Wolf..."

"Give her to me," Rhys commanded from beside him. "You cannot win this battle.

Go with the wolves."

Bleddyn's head snapped up, rage leaping in his eyes. Another unearthly howl split the air, this time one of loss and revenge. "I will not leave her!"

On the other side of the altar, the priest's horse reared as its rider jerked back on the reins.

"Sacrilege! Sp.a.w.n of Satan, you die now!"

Rising, Bleddyn quickly laid Meredythe in the druid's arms. Her protest died on her lips. She was too weak to utter it. She blinked as her sight became blurred. Bleddyn faced the priest, hate and the promise of death emanating from him.