Wolven

*Hi guys, this one's a different tale, not as fast paced as my other ones but I hope that it's still good enough. It was a dream I had not so long ago and something to keep you going until my next Summoner post! Thanks for all the feedback on those stories and I hope to get the next chapter off soon. In the meantime, enjoy! * SW

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Spring had settled in the village. A soft breeze wafted through the garden and Bronwyn lifted her head to breath in the warm air. After the long winter, it was a relief to know the warmer months were on the way.

She was small for her age, the other eighteen year olds towered over her five foot one, but she was well proportioned. Her breasts were full and her hips just wide enough to accentuate her toned waist. Her blonde hair, long and thick, was always tied back from her face securely making her seem older than she was and her green eyes were wary.

When she smiled, and that wasn't often, dimples in her cheeks took years off her appearance.

Unlike the other teenagers, she dressed more for comfort rather than fashion, usually covering up when the others flashed skin. She took everything seriously, having the responsibilities of running the manor thrust upon her at an early age.

The grounds of the estate were large and encompassed several fields, all of which she had managed with responsibility. Under her meticulous care, they had prospered.

The main produce was wool and meat, all from the flocks of sheep that roamed freely across her land. Her father's pride had been those flocks and many farmsteads across the lands would pay highly for one of his stock.

Unfortunately with such livestock came the ever-present threat of predators. Wolves were known to take the occasional straggler and, as such, had to be removed.

That was the reason why she made her way towards the stables to talk to her huntsman, Robert.

Not that she wasn't eager to see him anyway before he headed out on his monthly trip into the forest. Every four weeks with the rising of the moon, he left the village to stay at the woods cabin to hunt for game to stock the larders.

That and to deter the local packs from raiding the sheep.

As a young man of barely eighteen, he'd arrived in the village six years ago. Bronwyn's father had seen the potential in him and had employed him as huntsman, teaching him the ways of their woods.

Since his arrival, Robert had been successful in keeping the wolves away and he'd kept the woods clear of poachers. When asked, he'd simply said he kept the balance in the forest so the wolves never went hungry and didn't venture into the human's territory.

As a young girl, Bronwyn always shadowed him, learning woodcraft and how to shoot a bow. As she grew into a teenager, she started to see him differently. His gangly body had filled out and he had become a hansom man. His brown hair fell around his shoulders when not tied back and his hazel eyes were always serious when it came to his work but sparkled with mischief when he wasn't.

Especially when it came to women.

He'd been known to break a few hearts over the years and Bronwyn was no exception. Even though he had always treated her with respect, she would have given anything to see that mischievous gleam aimed in her direction.

As she approached the stables, she failed to see the usual gaggle of girls around. They usually crowded around to watch Robert as he exercised or did jobs around the manor, giggling as they described to each other what they would like to do with him.

That meant he had already left.

Sure enough, upon opening the stable doors she found his horse missing.

"If you're looking for our huntsman, he left a few minutes ago," a voice called to her.

She turned to see Melinda, her ancient housekeeper, hefting a basket of laundry towards the line.

"You know you shouldn't be carrying that alone," Bronwyn chided her as she took one of the handles. "Where's Jennifer?"

"She took of with her friends when she saw Robert leaving," the old woman said as she stretched her back. "She said she wouldn't be long."

Bronwyn shook her head. "She should know better than to leave her duties."

Melinda chuckled. "When you're young and a hansom man wanders past, the last thing on your mind is work. I can't blame the lass. Have fun while you still can, I say."

"I wish I had your sentiment," the younger woman said.

"You do take your job seriously, child. Your parents would have been proud."

The mention of her parents always made her melancholy. They had been dead for four years now, leaving their estate to a girl only just in her teens and not suited to the task. If it hadn't been for Melinda and Robert, she would have never kept her head above water.

Her father had died from his injuries after a cattle stampede at a neighbouring farm. He'd gone to help out when they'd been short handed. He'd always been like that, helping out when needed, but his charity had been his downfall.

Her mother had died shortly after, suffering from depression brought by her father's death and then dying from a fever that had ravaged the village.

It had been a hard year and Bronwyn had been forced to grow up fast.

She smiled despite her dark thoughts and started to help Melinda hang the laundry up but the older woman shooed her away. "You're a kind mistress but it doesn't befit a lady to do chores. You looked like you were on a mission and Robert will leave before you find him."

There had been a valid reason why she had sought out the huntsman that morning but it didn't stop the blush that started to burn her cheeks.

Melinda saw her flushed face and smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "You just leave the laundry to me. If you see Jennifer, tell her to hurry back."

Bronwyn nodded and went into the stable to saddle her horse.

From the tracks leading into town, Robert had twenty minutes head start. That was fine. He'd buy supplies before heading out so if she hurried, she'd catch him just before he left.

It didn't take long to reach the village, it was a good half hour walk, but she didn't have that much time. Urging her horse into a canter, she took off down the well-worn road.

Upon arriving, she saw Robert's mare hitched in front of the tavern and guided her gelding up beside her. The horses whickered to each other as she dismounted.

"Now there's a thing," a deep male voice drawled. "I usually don't see anything so muscular between a woman's legs other than a strong man."

The earlier blush that had been forgotten came back in full force at the implication and she turned to see the voice's owner.

A stranger leered at her from the shadows of the tavern. "And she blushes too," he stalked over to her moving with liquid grace. "I didn't think women did that any more."

He would have been considered hansom if there hadn't been a wicked gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. Long black hair had been tied back from his face in a low ponytail and his dark brown eyes gave her the once over, taking in the swells of her body as he bared down on her.

Bronwyn hadn't realised she'd backed away until she bumped against her horse. The stranger kept coming until he was so close to her that his face was inches from hers. He breathed her in, closing his eyes as he savoured her fragrance.

Eventually he opened his eyes again, looking down at her and grinned. His eyes seemed to change colour, amber glinting briefly in the dark depths. "You smell good enough to eat."

She couldn't move. His eyes had her transfixed and her heart thumped in her ears. Her breath caught in her throat, not from excitement but from fear.

"Bronwyn, are you alright?"

Robert's voice broke the spell and the stranger stepped back.

Using the distraction, she scrambled away, taking refuge behind her huntsman.

Robert didn't turn but kept his eyes on the stranger. "I see you're new around here."

The stranger lifted his lip in what could only be described as a snarl. "I've been here long enough to know who belongs to who," he said cryptically. "That one hasn't been marked. I was looking for a little fun."

"Consider her to be under my protection," Robert said evenly. "You'd do well to remember that."

The stranger chuckled darkly. "Even when the moon's out?"

"Especially when the moon's out."

The stranger shook his head. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair in a couple of days. I'm just passing through."

With that, the stranger headed back into the tavern leaving the two of them alone.

Robert turned to the young woman behind him. "What are you doing here Bronwyn?"

She'd been frightened before but now indignation raised its head. "I came looking for you," she said. "You didn't come to say goodbye like you normally do."

Instead of chastising her, Robert chuckled and patted her head. "I'm sorry. I've had other things on my mind."

She shrugged off his hand. "Stop treating me like a child. I am your mistress you know."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. She sounded every bit like a petulant child and the way she said mistress made it sound worse than it was.

The twinkle in his eyes stilled her breath. It was the mischievous look she'd dreamed about and it was aimed at her. "Well now, if you are my mistress there are certain things you should attend to."

She cursed the blush that marched up her cheeks. "You know what I mean."

He untied their horses and started off. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease." He handed the reigns of her mount to her and the twinkle was gone. "I know you're not a child. You haven't been for quite a while now."

They walked in silence for a while as they headed out of the village. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?" he asked when they were about to part ways.

She nodded. "Something's been at the sheep again. From the tracks it looks like a wolf."

He frowned. "I hear a 'but' coming."

"Yeah. The local packs know not to come this way. It has to be some new wolf."

Robert didn't say anything but stared over her head at the tavern. He frowned. "I'll see to it."

She gave him one of her rare smiles. "Good. I knew you would."

He smiled kindly down at her. "Make sure you bolt the doors and windows tonight."

Bronwyn frowned. They'd never used the ancient locks in the manor before. She didn't even know if they worked. "Why?"

He hugged her tightly with one arm causing her heart to skip. "Just please. Do as I say."

"Sure," she stuttered.

"Good girl." He let her go and mounted his horse. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

She watched his back as he rode away from the town. As he disappeared into the trees, she had the distinct feeling someone was watching her but when she turned, she found no-one.

Telling herself that she was letting her imagination get the better of herself, she mounted her horse and headed back to the manor.

Robert didn't want to go. A rival wolf had entered his lands and had designs on the one person he swore he would protect.

Over the years, he had watched Bronwyn grow from a stubborn child to a beautiful young woman.

When her father was lying in the dirt, dying from being crushed by the stampede, Robert had been with him. With his dying breath, her father made him swear to protect her and Robert had readily agreed. Since then, he had kept her from harm.

There was another reason why he didn't want to leave her alone. He didn't know when it had started but over the years, he started to think of her no longer as a child but as the beautiful woman she had become.

He knew she felt the same way, he would have had to be blind not to. There had been a few times when he had been caught watching her, his eyes drinking in her every curve. In those moments, she had blushed and turned away, pretending that she hadn't seen him. If she hadn't felt the same, she would have given him an earful like she did that time when she'd caught the stable hand doing the same.

Every time he had to leave her, he felt a pit inside that could only be eased when he saw her face again.

If it had been any other woman, he would have seduced her by now and bedded her as he had several of the young women in the village. None knew his dark secret and he had always left them before they suspected anything.

Bronwyn was different.

She wasn't to be swept aside but neither could he risk her knowing the truth. He couldn't take the look of horror in her eyes if she found out.

He had to go. The moon's pull was already causing his nerves to twang. Later, after he had transformed completely and taken care of his uninvited guest, he would swing by the estate to check in on her.

The Stranger watched the two of them leave. Now that the huntsman was out of the way, he had his chance.

The girl had never been with a man, he could smell that much, and as to why the huntsman hadn't already claimed her was a mystery.

She was ripe for the plucking and a beauty under all those men's clothes.

Along with the knowledge that she was still a virgin, he could also smell her desire for the other wolf.

Wolves mated for life and, after that night, he would make the young woman his and her lands along with her.

Night fell over the manor and the moon rose with it.

Bronwyn sat on the porch, watching the full moon and waited. The house was dark and quiet. Only a fire in the receiving room's hearth offered any warmth and illumination. Not that she needed the latter. The moon was so bright she could see the woods clearly.

She had a secret. Over the last four years, with the rising of the full moon, a special friend paid a visit.

One night, just after her mother's death, she couldn't sleep and had gone outside for some fresh air.

It was then that she first saw him.

She hadn't expected to come across the wolf and wouldn't have seen him at all if he hadn't been moving. His thick grey fur blended almost completely with the trees and she could tell that he was young, not quite fully grown.

Unlike the other wolves she had come across in the woods, he didn't run away but watched her with such intelligence.

Scared, she had backed back into the house and shut the door.

Every full moon since, she had seen him. He didn't do anything but watch the house and before long, he became a comforting presence.

She had even worked up the nerve to step outside and watch him back.

Over the course of the next few years, she had earned his trust, encouraging him to come closer with cuts of meat. One night she had touched his shaggy coat and he licked her hand.

Ever since that night, they shared the porch and sometimes in the summer, she even spent the entire night outside with him, sleeping on the porch as he stood guard. Those times he had always left before she woke.

After the trust they had built up, she couldn't leave him out there alone. When she had seen him and fed him, she would lock the manor up as Robert had instructed and go to bed.

An hour went by and she frowned. The wolf usually came around by now. She hoped he hadn't gotten caught in one of Robert's traps or even worse, been the one taking the sheep.

She doubted he would have been responsible for that. He'd never taken any interest in the flock before.

Sighing, she stood. It was getting late.

"So the blushing maid is a lady," a shadow detached from the trees. The stranger from earlier that day stepped into the light and her heart raced in fright.

For a moment, Bronwyn thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She could have sworn that his face had been longer and much, much hairier.

She backed away towards the safety of the manor. "What are you doing here?"

"So she does have a voice," he chuckled. "Don't be afraid. I only got lost heading to my camp and saw a light." He stepped onto the porch. "I was hoping to find a friendly soul and happened upon you."

Bronwyn didn't know why but she had the feeling he was dangerous. She certainly didn't want to spend any time with him alone but she'd sent the estate's workers home early in anticipation of her lupine friend's appearance.

She made it to the door in record time but his strong hand stopped her from closing it. "Now, that isn't very friendly, is it?" he drawled.

Bronwyn backed into the receiving room and he followed, chasing her slowly. She knew she was near the fireplace, her bare feet trod on the thick fur mat in front of it and she could feel the heat still radiating from the stone. All she needed was to back up a little further to grab the poker standing beside it. As a child, she had always loved running her hands through the mat's fur and now she was grateful to have it as a guide.

"Don't come any closer," even to her ears, her voice sounded panicked. Her hand wrapped around the handle of the poker and she brandished it in front of her.

"Or you'll what?" suddenly he was on her, gripping her wrist painfully with one strong hand. "Call for help? Don't insult me. You know that there's no-one here."

He twisted her wrist slowly until she dropped the poker and it clattered to the ground. Desperately, she raked her nails over his face but he only grinned and pushed her firmly against the wall, capturing both wrists in one strong hand.

"That is going to cost you."

Bronwyn's mind raced. She had learned some basic defence when she was younger but the stranger's hands were abnormally strong. The hand holding her wrists above her head felt more like a claw.

Reaching down, he ripped her nightshirt from her body, exposing her beasts to the chill night air. That feat alone was inhuman.

"I'm going to make you mine, little bitch," when he spoke, his voice didn't even sound human. "Wolves mate for life, you know." With his free hand, he gripped her chin and forced her to face him. "You might as well give in an enjoy it."

Defiantly, she spat in his face.

He chuckled. "So be it." With unnatural speed, he pulled her from the wall and shoved her face down on the floor. He was on her in a second, one hand holding her firmly down between her shoulders and the other ripping the last of her nightshirt away.

Bronwyn tried to struggle but the strong hand on her back kept her in place as his knee forced her legs apart. Over the thudding of her heart, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of a belt buckle coming undone.

His hand on her back shifted until it gripped her neck painfully, keeping her head towards the wooden planks as his other hand roughly positioned her until she knelt, spreadeagled before him.

She tried to reach for the poker, her fingertips grazing the iron handle, but she couldn't quite reach it.

A deep growl echoed through the room, low and threatening.

The stranger's lip twisted into a sneer and he rolled off her with lightning speed, eyeing the wolf standing in the doorway.

Bronwyn acted fast. She rolled out of reach and scooped up the poker smoothly. Getting to her feet, she swung it in one go, hitting the stranger solidly across his shoulders but he didn't go down.

Instead, he snarled at her, his lip lifting and showing canine teeth that were longer than they should have been. Momentarily shocked, she stood frozen before him. He used her hesitation to his advantage and backhanded her into the wall.

Her head hit the wooden wall and the edges of her vision started to cloud as she quickly lost consciousness. The last thing she saw was the stranger and wolf flying at each other before she surrendered to the black.

Bronwyn came round to a soft tongue licking of her face and the worried whine of her lupine friend. She opened her eyes groggily to see him standing over her.

Sitting up, she groaned and put a hand to her head. She remembered the stranger and she struggled to get to her feet, searching desperately for him. The poker, her only weapon within reach, was in her hand in an instant as she scooped it off the floor.