Excerpt from ILONA'S WOLF

Fantasy Erotic Romance

by Lyndi Lamont

CHAPTER 1

Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Velosia, magic was more precious than gold. The few who possessed it were highly prized, for not everyone could learn to wield the magic, only those who were sorcerers born.

Unscrupulous men tried to control the sorcerers, to use the magic for their own purposes. For power, wealth and control. And the magicians paid a terrible price. For in this world magic was designed to do good. Use of magic for selfish or evil reasons drained them of their power. And so the villains of the kingdom continually sought new sources of the precious magic.

And now an evil sorcerer schemed to gain control of the kingdom. What he could not bewitch, he tried to destroy. One courageous knight stood in the way, until he was cursed and banished.

Our story begins with a young woman in a crimson cloak walking through the forest, followed by a woodsman and a wolf. A familiar tale, you may say. Ah, but she is no common girl, and this is no ordinary wolf.

* * *

The wolf trotted through the forest, head up, senses extending outward, alert for danger. He’d been running for his life forever, or so it seemed. The smell of lust came first, musky and tinged with violence. He paused, sniffed deeply, then changed direction and speed, loping toward the scent, for now he sensed another—sweet, innocent and frightened. Soon he heard the rustling of feet on dry leaves. Two sets of feet, one following the other.

Protect, defend, avenge. The words pounded in his brain, though he knew not why.

Protect, defend, avenge. Running now, he raced toward the two humans, fearing what would happen if he were too late.

* * *

Ilona ran along the forest path, using her power to push away the branches barring her path. A foreboding sense of danger pervaded her senses and she castigated herself for coming alone to gather herbs in the woods.

Footsteps pounded behind her, coming ever closer. Her heart raced and she gasped for breath as she fought to keep fear at bay. Fear would diminish her powers.

The path suddenly ended at the edge of a raging stream. The waters rushed by, swollen from spring run-off. How deep was it? What was worse, facing her pursuer or risking her life in the water? She focused on a vine hanging from a tree on the opposite side of the stream and tried to nudge it toward her. If she could grab hold, it would swing her over the water.

The sound of pursuit increased, and she spun around to see a man standing at the edge of the trees. He was young and strong, but danger radiated from him, as did his rank odor. His leering expression sent a chill down her spine. She glanced around and saw a smaller path along the water’s edge and sidestepped toward it.

He jumped forward as she turned and ran for the path, but he grabbed her by her cloak.

She tugged at it, but he held on tight.

“Let me go.”

“What’s your hurry, pretty maid?”

She turned to face him. He was a woodsman to judge by the ax hanging from the belt at his waist. The pole tenting his breeches told her he meant no good. He towered over her, lust mixed with anger streaming from every pore.

“You gave me quite a chase, but you weren’t fast enough, were you?”

She backed up, summoning all her powers. “Please, leave me alone. I’ve done nothing to harm you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Think you’re too good for me, do you? You with your fine crimson cloak.”

She eyed a hefty branch a few feet away, but tried, once more, to use reason. “Nay, I never said so.

’Tis just that I don’t know you.”

“No matter.” He reached for her hair with a grubby hand, and she flinched away.

She summoned the branch with her mind and it slammed into his arm, the one still clutching her cloak.

He yelped and grasped his injured arm. “Witch!”

She turned to run, but he grabbed her again and slammed her into a tree. She grunted as her head smashed into the trunk, her basket of herbs flying out of her hand.

Injured arm dangling, he backhanded her with his good hand. “That’ll teach you.”

Woozy, she slid to the ground and watched as he started to unlace his breeches, his movements awkward. Blood dripped from her split lip and her head pounded from the impact with the tree. She tried to summon enough power to fling another branch at him, but it was hard to concentrate. Suddenly she sensed danger from yet another source.

“Wolf,” she cried.

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© 2008 by Lyndi Lamont

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED