1
Nine moons later
I saw the wolf through the branches of the berry bush. Large and reddish with a white splash on his tail, he sat with his tongue lolling out, watching me.
With a smile, I turned back to the waiting branch and picked another handful of berries for my lunch.
A subtle wind lifted my skirts and brought a fresh, open scent--like the earth after spring rain. Leaves crunched under someone’s foot--the sound too slight to notice unless I was waiting to hear it.
A pair of large, rough hands covered my eyes.
“Guess who,” the Scottish brogue tickled my ear.
“Fergus,” I whirled with a grin, and took in the young warrior, his handsome face and broad, muscled shoulders making my mouth water.
He stood bare-chested and unashamed, wearing nothing but a loincloth around his nethers
