Part 3 (1/2)
”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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 wors.h.i.+pers 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 wors.h.i.+pers seek your blessing.”
”They do not wors.h.i.+p 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.