She did not hear his footsteps, but she knew that he had left, knew she was alone.
She sat by the fire until her eyelids grew heavy, and then she sought her blankets.
She was on the brink of sleep when a cold nose pushed against her hand. “Magick, is that ye?”
The wolf whined softly as he stretched out beside her.
Channa Leigh sat up, her fingers searching for the knife she had placed nearby. “I need a bit of yer fur,” she said, as her hand closed over the blade. She let out a soft cry of pain as the sharp blade pricked her palm. Taking hold of the handle with one hand, she gathered a bit of the wolf’s fur in the other. Able to see now, she cut off some of the wolf’s fur and placed it in the leather pouch.
“Thank ye, Magick.”
The wolf whined softly.
“Tomorrow I am to see his face,” she remarked, stroking the wolf’s neck. “Will I find it frightening, do ye think? Sometimes, when he is near, I feel so strange. Not afraid, exactly,” she mused, and then paused. “I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe a little of what I feelisfear,” she admitted. “He is so powerful. I felt it today, in the valley. I was glad I could not see then.”
The wolf looked up at her expectantly.
“No walk tonight.” She slid under the covers and the wolf stretched out beside her.
He watched her steadily until she fell asleep, then he transformed into his own shape. Picking up the pouch, he walked away into the darkness.
Chapter Ten
She woke with the warmth of the sun on her face and a sense of anticipation.
On the morrow,he had said,when the sun is new, we shall look upon each other.
Throwing the covers aside, she sat up. “My lord?”
“I am here, Channa Leigh.”
“Tis dawn.”
“Aye. Are ye ready?”
“Aye,” she replied tremulously. “I am.”
“Hold out yer hand.”
She did as he asked, her fingers closing over something soft. She started to ask what it was, but then she knew. It was the wolf’s fur, twisted into a tight braid.
She felt his hand close over hers.
“I am Darkfest,” he said, his voice soft yet ringing with power. “Master of fire and light. Believe, Channa Leigh, and receive thy sight.”
Heat flowed into her hand, raced up her arm. She trembled as his power poured into her, as warm as the sunlight on her face. She blinked and blinked again as her vision cleared. Looking up, she saw him watching her.
He wore a black shirt open at the throat, and black trousers tucked into supple black boots. A long black cloak fell from his broad shoulders. She had not expected him to be handsome, but he was. Undeniably so. Why hadn’t her father told her? His hair fell past his shoulders, thick and black. His brows were slightly arched, his nose straight, his lips full. His expression was stern, but not cruel. But it was his eyes that held her gaze. Golden brown eyes that were familiar somehow. He was tall, as she had expected. His arms were long and well-muscled, his hands large and capable looking. She was sorely tempted to run her handsover his shoulders, to press her palms to his chest. She clasped her hands together tightly to keep from reaching for him.
“How is it possible that I can see?” She glanced at the bit of braided fur in her hand. “How long will it last?”
“Until sundown.”
“No longer?”
He shook his head. The power in the cuttings of the wolf’s fur grew weaker with time.
“What sort of magic is it, that grants me my sight?”
