Wolf Warrior 02 The Solarian Raven Page 3

  Because I don't want to absorb her pain.

  He reminded himself what it felt like to touch another. The telepathic healing abilities he had been born with allowed him to sense others’ pain and from that knowledge help heal them. But what others didn't understand was that every time he sensed another's pain, he took it and owned it. He couldn't handle that anymore.

  He had been taking others’ pain into his heart since he was six years old, and it was slowly killing him. It was sucking whatever joy and happiness he had in his life directly out of him.

  So the only answer for him was not to let anyone close to him.

  But oh, this woman tests me to the very edge of my limits.

  When she raised her hand to touch him, he wanted to burrow his hands into the crimson of her hair and touch her back. He wanted to absorb every inch of happiness that she had ever experienced in her life, that she had ever worn on her face, into his heart and touch every inch of her soul. He wanted to do much more than that to her lovely body. He wanted to lick every drop of sweat from her skin and dip his tongue deep into her sweet wetness.

  He looked down and frowned at his aching cock. He cursed the fact the stiff organ wouldn't comply with his wishes to settle down.

  Christ, I'm going to have to do something about this.

  Slowly, he stripped off every inch of his clothes. Richard licked the palm of his hand and let it fall to his veined hardness. He caressed his dick, picturing the red-haired beauty on her knees before him, taking his cock into her mouth. Stroking deeply, pumping his cock as he strove to alleviate the need that the woman had brought forth in him, getting lost in the fantasy. He grunted and his hand pumped faster. His cum rose, pearling on the tip. He used his pre-cum as lubrication, running his hand up and down himself. Focusing on bringing himself to completion, he stroked faster. His heart stuttered, anticipating the explosion; his head fell back; his body tensed; it was coming ... His cum spurted out; Richard grunted, hoping this orgasm would help him find relief. He leaned into his pumping hand, pulling every last drop of moisture from his dick.

  Unfortunately, it didn't help. He still yearned for her.

  Chapter Two

  Shirtless men were wrestling, their kilts pulled between their knees; their women circled them, calling out for a victor. Megan laughed and wondered if the week-long celebration was simply an excuse to overindulge during such a dark period for her people. After fighting like savages for their cause, their freedom, and their independence, they plunged into the merriment as if it might be the last time they would feast and make merry.

  Her gaze left the wrestlers, seeking Richard. Yesterday he had returned from the springs with his wet hair cascading down his shoulders, but his demeanor had still been gloomy. He had made his bed apart from the camp that had been erected for the remaining MacGregor clan. Megan had watched a comely young blond woman take him some food. The woman had tried to get close to him to offer what Megan knew was more than a meal. He waved her away. The woman stomped off, while he stayed with Caine by his fire and whittled at a stick, seemingly content alone.

  Megan's mother joined her.

  "Have an eye for that one, do ya now, darlin'?” she whispered, a smile in her voice.

  Her mother, Adelaide, was small limbed, her glowing red locks surrounding her face in a halo of magnificence. Her features appeared angelic. She seemed delicate on the surface, but Megan knew the strength that flowed through her mother's veins. What she lacked in stature, she made up with in her temper and her kindness.

  "Da forbade me to talk to him."

  "Ah, did he now?” Her mother spooned their morning porridge into a wooden bowl. She handed Megan the bowl. “Now he dinna forbid you to bring him a morn meal, did he?"

  "Nay.” Her heart accelerated.

  "Go, my darlin’ girl. I'll handle your da."

  "Thank you, Ma.” Megan leaned forward and kissed her mother's rosy cheek.

  She greeted a few people but didn't stop as she wended her way to Richard's solitary campsite.

  She held out the bowl of porridge, as if in a peace offering. When he didn't reach out to take it, she realized why. He might accidentally touch her fingers in the exchange. She frowned and set the porridge next to him. In her mind she hoped Caine got to it before him.

  "A good morning to you,” she said.

  "Megan.” He stood.

  Megan was unsure why she felt the continued need to approach this man. He pulled her like the sun drew the flowers. She sat on an old tree stump across from him and pointed to the bowl.

  "My mother thought perhaps you were hungry this morn."

  He nodded and the corners of his mouth actually quirked.

  "Ah, your mother is like you then?” He picked up the bowl.

  "I hesitate to even ask for fear of insult, but how would that be?"

  "She has a big heart, my beauty, for lost causes.” He swallowed a spoonful of porridge.

  Megan watched his tongue flick out to clean a dollop of porridge from the corner of his mouth. She cleared her throat to keep from groaning at his actions. She almost wished she were that porridge. She shook her head.

  What am I thinking?

  "Humph.” She rose to her feet and waved a hand at Caine, who was lounging next to Richard.

  Patting her leg, she called the wolf to her. He came without hesitation. She squatted down to pet the near-extinct creature. Then she threw her arms around Caine's strong neck and nuzzled her mouth against his wide forehead. He nuzzled her in return with his wet nose and she laughed. Caine pushed her back against the stump in his play. Megan gently returned the push. He came forward and nuzzled her again, then started licking her face.

  She turned toward Richard and was rewarded with a lick to the ear. She laughed.

  "Oh, Richard, he is so beautiful. How did you come by him? Wolves have been hunted in England and Scotland for so long because of King Edward's decree. I haven't seen one since...” The longing in Richard's gaze stopped her words.

  He surged up, his empty bowl tumbling to the ground. His gaze never leaving hers, he knelt next to her, knees in the dirt. Caine stopped playing and stood still.

  Megan's hand rested on Caine's back and she watched in stunned silence when Richard's hand followed hers along the wolf's fur. He was so close, she could feel the heat of his hand radiating onto her. She lifted her gaze to his face and saw his eyes following his own movements.

  Megan froze, sensing she would startle him into running like a frightened animal. His hand stopped and rested next to hers. His fingers spayed out, separated from hers by a thin line of fur. Close ... they were so close.

  Abruptly, he pulled back his hand as if he had been burned. Megan let out the breath she had been holding. He moved closer. Two quick movements of his legs and they were kneeling eye to eye.

  "Caine is special.” His voice grew languorous. His hand lifted. Toward her this time, not Caine.

  Megan sucked in another breath as her eyes followed his movements. His hand raised level with her hair and he gently touched it, running her red hair between his fingers.

  "He is a protector for my people. He belongs to my sister. He was sent to protect me.” His eyes seemed to drink in the features of her face.

  "Protect you from what?” Her voice came out with the same breathy tone she might have used when soothing one of her wounded animals.

  He leaned forward, as if to catch the air from her mouth. Her hand fisted in Caine's coat to keep her from thrusting it into Richard's dark hair and kissing him with all her fierceness. She somehow knew he was closer to her than he had been to any one person and could almost smell his fear.

  She didn't budge and let him continue to explore.

  "He protects me from anything and everything,” he murmured. His scent permeated her senses. Her pulse beat so quickly she felt the throbbing in her wrist, against her throat, and pounding in her head.

  His gaze dropped to her throat, seeming to sense her rapid heartbeat. Then h
is eyes shifted to her lips. His eyes took on a drowsy appearance, his lids dropping to half-mast.

  She licked her lips. He hadn't kissed her but with his look, his breath on her lips, she felt as if he had.

  Did her nearness affect him as much as his affected her?

  "He need not protect you against me, Richard."

  "Oh, my beauty, that is where you are wrong. Very wrong.” His words puffed out against her lips, over her cheeks. He smelled like porridge and fine wine all combined into one.

  The hand that had been fingering her hair finally dropped next to his side. Then, as if he couldn't stop it, it lifted again and outlined her face, never touching, but so close she could feel a spark of heat.

  "I want to touch you, Megan."

  "I would very much like that."

  He paused and to her disappointment he pulled away, jumped to his feet and sank back down in his seat dropping his head in his hands.

  "I cannot. I wish I could explain but I cannot..."

  "Richard!” He raised his haunted light green eyes to hers, and she softened her voice. “I understand, think nothing of it."

  "Megan, I..."

  "I understand. Do not do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you ken?"

  He swallowed. “I ken."

  Megan nodded and standing, she moved closer. She had wooed many wild animals by simply stepping back and letting them come to her. Richard was like one of those animals. A wounded one. He was already close to coming to her; he just wasn't ready to take the next step.

  "Now, I have plans for us today and I willna be takin’ no for an answer.” She reverted to her Scottish lilt.

  "Do ya now, my beauty?” He imitated her accent, a smile touching his lips.

  "I do at that and,” she dropped down to her knees so she was eye level with him, “no touchin', I promise."

  He laughed. “I know how much those promises are worth."

  She pretended to pout, and then smiled. She placed her hand on her heart. His eyes followed her movement. Her heart gave a small skip at the hunger she saw in their green depths.

  "On my honor.” Her rapid breathing made her hand fall up and down on her chest. Finally, she rose to her feet, waving for him to follow.

  "A little fishing trip should help clear up that cynicism."

  He groaned. But she heard him sheath his sword and step after her.

  Megan glanced around. Her family was occupied, no one would notice them slip away.

  "I fear I will regret following you today, my beauty."

  Chapter Three

  Megan plopped down across from Richard at his camp the next day. It was the third day she was going to spend with him and she grew fonder of him with each passing moment. The previous day they had spent a relaxing, lazy afternoon at the surging river showing Richard her technique for catching fish.

  He had finally calmed under her gentle wooing. His persona took on an almost peaceful quality.

  Gone was the warrior that he had proven to be on the battlefield and in its place was a gentle, tender man. One who cringed when she baited her hook with live bait. When she gutted a fish, he appeared squeamish. Megan had to laugh at him. Except to describe his sister and say his home was in Scotland, he spoke little about himself.

  Once, when she was laughing at Caine playing with the whitecaps in the river, she looked up and saw Richard watching her intently. As if he had been caught stealing sweets from a baby, he quickly turned away.

  "Good morn to you, Richard,” Megan said as she set down his breakfast bowl.

  "Good morn, Megan.” He actually smiled at her and waved a hand toward the stump, which had become her chair.

  "Your mother again?” he asked as he took the meal.

  "Of course.” Caine moved in to greet her and she put her arms about him. She watched Richard's eyes soften at her movements.

  "So how long?” he asked between bites.

  "How long what?"

  "How long have you burdened your family with your candor and huge heart?” He was teasing her.

  "How long have you wanted to be a warrior?” she shot her question right back at him. She realized she constantly surprised him with her frankness. “Richard, I sense you were not meant to be a warrior."

  He appeared stunned by her insight. “What makes you think that?"

  She shrugged. “I just do, that's all."

  Richard laughed. “Perhaps you are right, my beauty, but this is the path I have chosen."

  "Well, ‘tis a foolish notion."

  "All right, enough about my life. Answer my question."

  "I'm afraid it's been all my life that I've troubled my family.” She sighed and took up her usual posture—elbows on knees, her face framed in her hands. “I cause my father much anguish when I bring home every injured breed of animal the forest has to offer. And I have always spoken what's in my heart."

  He stopped eating and stared at her.

  "So you're a healer of animals are you, my beauty?"

  "Some say I have a gift. I say I just have patience,” she said as she grabbed Caine's face and mussed his fur. Caine growled good-naturedly and began to play with her. “Don't I, Caine? I'm not gifted, simply too addlebrained to be afraid."

  She pushed the wolf and growled at him. Caine sprang forward, grabbed the material above her arm and gently shook it. She chuckled and pulled her arm away from his teeth. Her sleeve tore, and she laughed.

  She dropped to her knees and put her arms around him, kissing his face. “Aren't I too silly to know better, Caine?” When he licked her face in response, she laughed again.

  * * * *

  Richard laughed too, the sound rusty. He set the bowl down and watched Caine with Megan. He had never seen the wolf so lighthearted. Caine was very serious about his job. He had never played in the Realm, nor had he ever done so with Richard. But this woman brought out the joy in his wolf and took him back to when he was a pup.

  She was so exquisite, this beautiful woman, inside and out. She had charmed him as thoroughly as she had charmed his wolf. As she wrapped her arms around Caine's body, Richard groaned, wishing it was him her body was surrounding.

  Yesterday, when she had touched Caine, he had been so overwhelmed with the need to feel her.

  His memory took him back ...He ran his hand next to her arm. Her heat and positive energy had jolted though his system, and he hadn't even touched her. He jerked away, only to be drawn back to her again. Kneeling before her, he touched her hair. He smelled her sweet scent ... like honey and heather.

  The unique aura that surrounded Megan engulfed him and held him in an enchantment. He shook with the longing to touch her. He watched her small pink tongue come out and wet those incredible pink-pouting lips and he had wanted to take them then.

  It was an elemental, almost savage feeling. He pictured her small naked body entwined with his. He could taste the touch of his lips on her rapidly beating pulse and smell her woman's scent.

  He moved closer. So close he could feel her breath against his lips, hear the magic lilt of her voice. See the dark green of her eyes, smoky with her longing.

  He groaned now and closed his eyes, trying to clear his senses and the picture in his mind of this woman sensually wrapped around him in every way.

  Richard had vast experience with women. His extraordinary looks and honored position in the Realm had brought him many choices as to who would warm his bed. This woman, however, unmanned him. He couldn't free his mind of her as he did other women he had desired.

  "Richard, are you well?” Her voice brought him back to the present.

  "I am well, my beauty. Do not fear."

  "I have a place to take Caine today if you would allow it,” she said, sitting back on her stump. “It will give him a bit of freedom to run. Will you join us?"

  Her question punctured his thick skin and went directly into his heart. She was irresistibly innocent in so many ways. Richard decided it was that innocence that drew him so strongly to her. She ne
eded a protector and for some reason he felt a strong need to do just that, to safeguard her.

  He nodded at her request. “I cannot guarantee my mood, lass."

  Her eyes sparkled and she hopped up. “Richard, can you ever promise your mood?"

  Not waiting for his answer, she peered around. He assumed she was checking to see if anyone noticed them. Then she ran ahead, her fiery red hair swinging behind her. His mouth open in a wolfish smile, Caine loped after her. Richard shook his head as he trailed behind them, the noise of the wedding celebration growing faint.

  * * * *

  Richard leaned against a tree and watched Megan play with Caine in the vast field of heather. Purple flowers stretched as far as the eye could see, mile after mile of heather mantling the ground. The ball Megan had constructed from a hemp rope flew through the air. Barking, Caine chased after it. She trotted over to Richard and tumbled to the ground as Caine retrieved the ball. The wolf raced back and dropped the ball into her lap. Megan tossed it to Richard. He groaned when the sticky mess fell into his hands.

  "Ugh, Megan."

  She chuckled. “Throw it for him. You can heave it much farther than I.” She rolled flat on her stomach, propped her pert face into her hands and stared at him in adoration.

  He sighed and stood and threw the ball as far as he could. Caine chased it, his tongue flapping out of his open mouth.

  "That will keep him occupied for a short time.” Richard sat back down, gazing at Megan. “With you about, you would think him a pet, not a trained protector.” He shifted his gaze to watch Caine run.

  "I am so drawn to you, Richard."

  He stared at her in shock. For a moment he actually sputtered in his response. “Megan, must you be so forthright? It unnerves me."

  "Truly?” She tilted her head in an expression he was becoming familiar with. “Well then, tell me about why they say you are marked by death?"

  Richard sighed in relief; this he could answer. It was safer ground than thinking of running his hands through her auburn locks.