Ilona's Wolf: (Steamy Fantasy Romance) Page 5

  She glanced at Rolf’s naked form. He had gashes on his arms and legs, and his hands and feet were bloody. Her heart swelled with love and pride for her heroic werewolf. She removed her kerchief and handed it to him. He used it to wipe his hands, but she saw how raw the skin was.

  Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him on the mouth. “That was the bravest and most noble thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He drew her close and she felt his heart pounding, his breathing still hard and labored. How he’d managed to climb the nearly perpendicular slope was something she’d never fathom. She kissed him again, desperate to assure herself he was all right.

  “There’s no time for that now,” Val said.

  She pulled away from Rolf. “No, of course not. Antal needs our help. What can we do to help?”

  “Hold him still.”

  Ilona held down Antal’s good shoulder and arm while Rolf immobilized his legs. Val used a knife to cut the improvised bandage Rolf had made and felt the injuries. Antal cried out at the pain.

  “So sorry, my friend,” Val crooned. “Your arm is broken, but I can fix it.”

  “Can you make the pain go away?” Antal asked through clenched teeth.

  Val brushed the dark curls off Antal’s forehead with a gentleness that surprised Ilona. The two young men had bonded more than she’d realized. “I can heal the bone, but you’ll have to put up with the pain for a while longer.”

  “Dagmar gave me some herbs for pain,” Ilona said. “But I’ll need to heat water and let them steep so it will have to wait until we make camp tonight.”

  “We can move on as soon as I do my healing,” Val said.

  “Hurry up, boy,” Rolf added. “I’m about to freeze to death.”

  Ilona removed her cloak and handed it to Rolf, who wrapped it around himself, not for the first time. She smiled at him, recalling their first meeting in the woods.

  Val gave Antal a piece of leather to bite down on, then placed his hands on the injured arm and closed his eyes. Holding onto Antal, Ilona could feel the energy Val was pouring into the other man’s body and realized Val was a powerful healer. She looked at him with new respect. No wonder Rolf valued his squire so much.

  When Val pronounced the healing complete, he helped Antal sit up. He flexed his arm, seeming surprised to find it useable. “Amazing.”

  Val grinned proudly. “Told you I was a healer.” He helped Antal to his feet. “Can you ride?”

  “I think so,” Antal said. He turned to Ilona and Rolf. “My thanks to you all. I thought I’d die down there on the ledge.”

  Ilona kissed him on the cheek. “I’m very glad you didn’t. But now we’d best get moving.”

  Chapter Five

  Two days after Antal’s close call, Ilona saw her childhood home again. The group of riders had paused at the top of a hill above a wide valley. On the other side of the valley, the white stone towers of Castle Novita stood silhouetted against a bright blue sky. Perched on a cliff above the town and lake below, the castle dominated the scene. She’d spent many a happy day inside those walls, and not a few sad ones.

  “Are you ready?” Rolf asked her.

  She turned to face him. “Yes. The wedding is tomorrow, and we have plans to make.”

  The sun was setting by the time they reached the town nestled below the cliff and found an inn with a room available. They led the horses to the stables to bed them down. The building was deserted, but still they spoke in whispers.

  “We’ve been away too long,” Rolf said. “We need to know what has happened in the last few months. Val, you’ll have to get the lay of the land first.”

  “I can go with him,” Antal offered.

  Ilona studied him. Despite Val’s healing and Dagmar’s herbs, Antal looked worn to a shade. “No. Go to the room and rest, Antal. Royal order.”

  Antal straightened his shoulders and grimaced. “I am fine.”

  “Brave lad,” Rolf said approvingly. “But no, you heard Princess Ilona. You’ll stay here. Besides, there’s too much of a chance you’ll be recognized in the castle stables.”

  Antal grinned. “No one notices a stable boy. ’Tis more likely someone will remember that fine black stallion of yours.”

  “True,” Rolf agreed. “I’ll leave Orion here with you. Tomorrow, if we don’t return by the end of the day, take Orion and go back to Klosterlupe and report to Brother Ulrich.”

  Antal’s eyes widened. “Will he let me ride him?”

  Rolf stroked the stallion’s nose. “Aye, he should.”

  “Feed him a carrot and he’ll go anywhere with you,” Val joked.

  “If we do not return, take care of Dagmar and my little Fritz,” Ilona said, her voice thick with unshed tears.

  “Let me see your palm, my lady.”

  Antal took her hand and studied her palm. “As I’ve said before, you’ll live a long life with your new love. Naught has changed. But I will bide here as you ask.”

  “Go on,” Val urged. “Rest.”

  Antal lingered, staring at each of them in turn. “Take care, my friends. I expect to see you tomorrow.”

  After he left, Rolf turned to Val. “On your way now, lad. Meet us at the postern gate two hours after sunset.”

  Val mounted his horse and rode out of the stable. Ilona watched him ride off, wondering what fate beheld them all.

  *

  Val was waiting for Ilona and Rolf when they arrived at the castle. They’d caught a ride on a tradesman’s wagon, saving them the long and tiring hike up the hill. The courtyard was a bevy of activity, with servants rushing to and fro, and no one paid any attention to two more peasants.

  Rolf drew her and Val aside. “What news, Val?”

  “The bridal party and guests are at a banquet tonight, so we should have no trouble moving around.”

  “Good,” Ilona said. “I want a look inside Bruno’s chamber.”

  “So do I,” Rolf added. “But is it safe for you to go there? Won’t he be able to sense someone invading his room?”

  “I doubt it,” Ilona said. “My impression of his powers is that he’s good at casting spells and manipulating others, but not particularly sensitive. I think it was why he wanted me so much, because of my ability to sense danger.”

  “Very well, we’ll go together,” Rolf said.

  “Val, will you keep watch on Prince Leopold’s room tonight?” Ilona asked.

  “Of course, my lady.”

  They separated after entering the castle through the servants’ door. Ilona and Rolf moved quickly to the tower where Bruno lived. Her heart beat fast as she climbed up the winding stone stairs to the wizard’s room at the top. Rolf pushed at the stout wooden door, but it was locked.

  “Let me.”

  When Rolf moved aside, Ilona placed her hands on the door, closed her eyes, and used her mind to search for the locking mechanism. It took but a moment to find and unlock it. She pushed the door open and led the way in. “I’m glad most thieves don’t have your abilities,” Rolf observed with a chuckle.

  Ilona smiled at him, and then looked around Bruno’s chamber in the light of Rolf’s lantern. A large canopied bed stood against one wall. She shivered at the thought of her young sister sharing it with the magician. Though she had not told Rolf, she had no intention of letting Bruno live were she forced to marry him. The gods help her, but she’d kill him herself if need be. She sent up a silent prayer to Fortuna to bless their endeavor.

  A cabinet in the corner drew her. Inside she found a mortar and pestle beside jars and vials of potions, all carefully labeled. She examined them carefully. Most were typical ingredients for magical work, but she gasped when she found foxglove and hemlock. What on earth was Bruno involved in?

  She glanced away and saw an open book lying on a table. “Let’s see what he’s been up to.”

  As expected, it was a spell book. She turned the pages idly, but stopped when she found an incantation for a dream-sending spell.

  “Here’s the sp
ell he used to control Mila.” The book contained many instructions for spells and potions, and she began to wonder how many others he’d bewitched.

  She opened a leather box on the table and found a collection of items. Rifling through it, she spotted a familiar object. Her soft cry drew Rolf to her side.

  “What is it, Ilona?”

  She lifted a gem set in silver on a broken chain. “My husband’s amulet. He said he’d lost it, but…” Her throat closed up, and she swallowed hard.

  Rolf drew her into his arms. “You think his death was murder.”

  She blinked back her tears. “Yes. I warned Werner he was in danger. I sensed it all around him. If he’d been wearing this, he might have survived.”

  Rolf kissed her head. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

  Drawing a deep breath, she tamped down her sorrow. There would be time to mourn Werner later. “Come, we mustn’t be caught here.”

  After leaving Bruno’s rooms, they hurried to Ilona’s old chamber. The door was unlocked, and she opened it slowly, not sure what to expect. Memories flooded her as she entered. Her childhood flashed through her mind, then the years she’d lived here with Werner. Years of joy, and years of sorrow, all mixing inside her in a bittersweet yearning for what used to be but could not be ever again.

  Her sigh filled the room. “It seems so strange to be back here.”

  “Yes,” Rolf agreed, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She burrowed into his warmth for a minute, savoring the heat of his body, resting her head on his broad shoulder. Love had filled this room once. With the help of the gods, it would again. Silently, she thanked Fortuna for sending Rolf to her.

  He kissed the top of her head and let go of her. She shivered without his warmth, but said nothing as he strode to the hearth and lit a fire. Then he returned to the door, keeping his distance, letting her deal with her memories and feelings.

  She wandered around the room, the lantern held aloft, touching everything. Yes, strange but comforting, too. The furniture was free of dust, as if it had been waiting for her return. As if someone knew, or at least hoped, she would return one day.

  She set down the lantern and opened a trunk, pleased to find her gowns had been carefully packed away. She held one up to her shoulders. “I think it will still fit. At least I hope so. It will be best if I look like a princess tomorrow, don’t you agree?”

  “You’re always beautiful to me,” Rolf said.

  She laid down the gown and turned to smile at him. “And you are my gallant knight.”

  He stared at her, his expression full of longing. “I should leave now. You need your rest.”

  She dropped the gown and held out a hand. “No, what are you talking about? Where could you go? What if you’re recognized?”

  “No one will pay attention to a servant. I can bed down in the stables.”

  “No, Rolf. I need you tonight. My powers have to be at their height tomorrow.”

  He moved toward her. “Are you sure, Ilona?”

  “Yes. We know not what will happen on the morrow. Do not leave me alone with my fears, or I’ll be of no use to anyone.”

  He walked to the bed and held out his hand. “Then come to me, my lady, though it be the last time.”

  She moved toward him, her heart full of love and anguish. This night might very well be the last time she found joy in his arms. “Don’t talk of the future, just love me now.”

  He swept her off her feet and sat her on the bed. Slowly, he began removing her clothing, starting with the hood that held her long hair. He untied the thong binding it and sifted the long tresses through his hands. “You have such beautiful hair. It shines in the light like copper and gold.”

  She smiled and lifted her arms so he could pull off her tunic. She’d bound her breasts with linen, and he unwrapped them now, freeing her breasts.

  “That feels much better. I like the freedom of men’s clothes, especially the breeches, but not binding my breasts.”

  She stood long enough to push the breeches over her hips and down her legs.

  He knelt to unfasten her shoes and garters. “I like you in breeches,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “I like the way they show off your shapely legs.” He ran his hands over her limbs, tickling her sensitive skin.

  “Perhaps I should start a new style,” she mused. “Shorter skirts worn over breeches. Think of how much more practical that would be for serving women and farm wives. No long skirts to trail in the mud and dung.”

  He laughed. “I’m not sure how much work would get done.”

  She joined his laughter and tugged at his tunic. “Off. I want to feel your strong muscles.”

  He made short work of his clothes, and she admired his muscular body as the light played over its planes and angles. He had the upper body strength of a trained knight used to wielding a heavy sword and strong thighs to grip his horse. He needed a shave and his shaggy brown hair hadn’t seen a haircut in months, giving him a more rakish appearance. All in all, he was an impressive male animal.

  And just as impressive as a wolf.

  She pushed the unbidden thought away. Tonight was for love, not worry. She scooted back on the bed so he could join her. She lay back as he loomed over her, supporting himself on his arms. She ran her hands over his bulging muscles, delighting in the hardness of his body, as she stared into those gold-brown eyes, so full of wisdom and pain. Her heart ached with love for this man-wolf. What would she do without him in her life?

  He lowered his head to kiss her, his tongue delving deep into her mouth. She kissed him back with all the passion of her pent-up emotions. His erect cock pulsed against her stomach, signaling his readiness. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer.

  “Easy, love, we have all night,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I know.” But that might be all the time they had. She pushed against his shoulders. “Lie back.”

  He rolled over, pulling her on top of him. “Am I too heavy for you?”

  “No, ’tisn’t that. I need to make love to you.”

  “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

  “No, you were making love to me. Now lie there and let me take charge.”

  He grinned at her. “Whatever my princess commands.”

  She kissed his lips, then her tongue danced along his cheek to his ear, before she lingered to nibble on his earlobe, then traced her tongue around the edge of his ear. A slight shiver went through him. “Does that feel good?”

  “Um-hmm.”

  She repeated the action with his other ear, then moved to kiss and nip at the column of his neck as her hands explored his chest. A fine pelt of dark hair covered his powerful muscles, but she didn’t mind the hairiness. ’Twas just part of what made him unique.

  Her explorations continued, down his flat stomach, following the trail of silky hair to his proud cock. She stroked her hands down the sides of his body, then touched his inner thigh. He tensed under her touch.

  “How long is this torture going to last?” he asked.

  She laughed. “As long as it takes to satisfy you.” She knew he wasn’t complaining. With each touch of her hands, she felt her magic increase and knew he was enjoying it.

  She took his prick into her hands, lowered her head and feasted on the sides. Turning her attention to the head, she pressed her tongue against the tip, tasting drops of his cream.

  “Sweet heaven,” he murmured, “you can do that all night if you like.”

  She looked into his slightly glazed eyes and laughed. “Dreamer. You won’t last that long.”

  A languid smile was his only reply.

  Lowering her head again, she licked his cock from base to head, reveling in his reaction. She felt his body tense and more drops leaked from the tip. Her arousal was building and she felt the moisture between her legs.

  Straddling him, she guided his prick toward her core, but he grabbed her thighs, stopping her.

  “I want you inside me,” she said. />
  “Are you certain? What if we make a baby?”

  Tears misted her eyes. “I’d love another child.”

  “What if he’s like me?”

  She leaned down to kiss him. “Then I will love him all the more.”

  He grabbed her hips and surged into her. She rode him, taking him into her body as the magic rose in and around her, heightening her senses and filling her with magic. Her heart pounded and her breath rasped in her throat, but she bit her lip to keep from crying out as her desire crested. He bit back a cry as his seed spurted into her womb. Power rose within, taking her into a realm where magic suffused her body and soul, replacing all fear and doubt with possibility.

  Later, as she lay drowsing in Rolf’s arms, she heard him whisper, “I love you.”

  I love you, too. But what good was love in a world that hated and feared werewolves?

  *

  The next morning, Ilona and Rolf joined the throng of guests waiting for the marriage of Princess Mila to Bruno of Grimmdorn. Nobles from far and wide, garbed in their best clothing of silk and velvet, crowded into the circular temple. Ilona remembered most of them, but so far no one had recognized her. She had been pleased to find her old clothing still fit, though the style was sadly out of fashion. She’d donned a fine silk gown of deep green and covered her hair with a veil of the same shade.

  Rolf squeezed her hand. He was dressed in dark blue, with a hooded cloak to conceal his features. His face was clean-shaven though his brown curls were still overgrown and tousled. He looked more handsome to her than ever. “It will be soon over.”

  She forced a smile. “Yes, for better or worse.”

  She glanced to where her mother and father sat to the side of the altar, aching to embrace them, but uncertain how they would greet her reappearance. Surely, they would be happy to see her, would they not? Or were they so deeply in Bruno’s thrall that they would spurn her?