WAYLANDER II: In the Realm of the Wolf by David A. Gemmell

Miriel took Krylla’s hand, and the children tried to flee -but the demon was faster, stronger. One scaled hand closed on Miriel’s arm, the touch burning.

‘Bring them to me!’ came a soft voice, and Miriel saw a man standing close by, his face also pale, his skin scaled like a beautiful albino snake. But there was nothing beautiful about the man. Krylla began to cry.

The monstrous creature that held them leaned over the children, touching the cavernous mouth to Miriel’s face. She felt pain then, terrible pain. And she screamed.

And screamed …

‘Wake up, girl,’ said the demon, his hand once more on her shoulder. Her fingers snaked out, clawing at his face, but he grabbed her wrist. ‘Stop this. It is me, Angel!’

Her eyes flared open and she saw the rafters of the cabin, the light of the moon seeping through the knife-thin gaps in the shutters, felt the rough wool of the blankets on her naked frame. She shuddered and fell back. He stroked her brow, pushing back the sweat-drenched hair. ‘Just a dream, girl. Just a dream,’ he whispered. She said nothing for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. Her mouth was dry and she sat up, reaching for the goblet of water by her bedside.

‘It was a nightmare. Always the same one,’ she said, between sips. ‘Krylla and I were being hunted across a dark place, an evil place. Valleys without trees, a sky without sun or moon, grey, soulless.’ She shivered. ‘Demons caught us, and terrible men …’

‘It’s over,’ he assured her. ‘You are awake now.’

‘It’s never over. It’s a dream now – but it wasn’t then.’ She shivered again, and he reached out, drawing her to him, his arms upon her back, his hand patting her. Lowering her head to his shoulder she felt better. The remembered cold of the Void was strong in her mind, and the warmth of his skin pushed it back.

‘Tell me about it,’ he said.

‘It was after Mother died. We were frightened, Krylla and me. Father was acting strangely, shouting and weeping. We knew nothing about drunken men. And to see Father stumbling and falling was terrifying. Krylla and I used to sit in our room, holding hands. We used to soar our spirits high into the sky. We were free then. Safe – so we thought. But one night, as we played beneath the stars we realised we were not alone. There were other spirits in the sky with us. They tried to catch us, and we fled. We flew so fast, and with such terror in our hearts that we had no idea where we were. But the sky was grey, the land desolate. Then the demons came. Summoned by the men.’

‘But you escaped from them.’

‘Yes. No. Another man appeared, in silver armour. We knew him. He fought the demons, killing them, and brought us home. He was our friend. But he does not appear in my dreams now.’

‘Lie back,’ said Angel. ‘Have a little gentle sleep.’

‘No. I don’t want the dream again.’

Pulling back the woollen blanket Angel slid in beside her, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘No demons, Miriel. I shall be here to bring you back if there are.’ Pulling the blanket up around them both he lay still. She could feel the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart and closed her eyes.

She slept for a little over an hour and awoke refreshed. Angel was sleeping soundlessly beside her. In the faint light of pre-dawn his ugliness was softened, and she tried to picture him as he had been all those years ago when he had brought her the dress. It was almost impossible. Her arm was draped across his chest and she slowly drew it back, feeling the softness of his skin and the contrasting ridges of hard muscle across his belly. He did not wake, and Miriel felt a powerful awareness of her own nakedness. Her hand slid down, the tips of her fingers brushing over the pelt of tightly curled hair below his navel. He stirred. She halted all movement, aware now of her increased heartbeat. Fear touched her, but it was a delicious fear. There had been village boys who had filled her with longing, left her dreaming of forbidden trysts. But never had she felt like this, the onset of fear synchronised to her passion. Never had she been so aware of her desires. Her needs. His breathing deepened again. Her hand slid down, fingers caressing him, circling him, feeling him quicken and swell.

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