A Spice Books
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Yield to Me by Saskia
Walker
The year is 1705. Annabel McGraw seeks to make a home in Carbrey�a small
village on the Scottish coast�ever fearful that her secret will be discovered.
A practitioner of the forbidden ancient craft, Annabel faces the hangman�s
noose if the truth is revealed. When the villagers become suspicious, she knows
she should flee, but her lust for local merchant Ewan Findlay makes her
reluctant to move on.�
When Ewan interrogates Annabel at the local inn where she works, it is soon clear
that he knows she is a witch�and that he wants her just as much as she wants
him! Unable to resist him, or to trust him, Annabel willingly gives in to her
wildly passionate nature, risking both her heart, and her very life! But it
seems Ewan has a secret of his own.�
Chapter One
I sensed it was him the moment he crossed the threshold. Ewan Findlay�the
man I had craved from the moment I first saw him�was here in The Silver Birch.
The very sound of his boots on the flagstones made my lust surge, his presence
setting me aflame.
I plunged my scrubbing brush into the pail of water and carried on with my
work, my emotions tumbling as I considered my folly. To be distracted by any
man was foolhardy. I had to be alone in order to survive, because no matter
where I roamed on
Desire was leading me into dangerous ways. I knew it, and yet I could not
stop my gaze flitting to the silver buckles on his shoes. How I wished it had
been me who had polished those shoes this morning�me who had, perhaps, flaunted
myself to distract him from his work. His legs were long and his thighs strong,
outlined as they were in his tight breeches. I wanted to look higher but told
myself to resist, lest anyone notice. It was an impossible task. Master
Findlay�s image had bonded to my blood the moment I arrived in the
I pushed my loose hair back over my shoulder and ran my hand around the back
of my neck, arching as I glanced his way. He smiled at me and then reached into
his pocket for a coin, affording me a glance beneath his frock coat. The shirt
he wore revealed the breadth of his shoulders, his breeches only emphasizing
his arrogant, proud stance. My stare lingered on his fine figure while I
scrubbed on across the muck-covered flagstones of the inn.
Ewan nodded at the landlord as he pushed the coin across the wooden counter,
his gaze alert and enquiring. �Tam.�
�Good day, Ewan. �Tis a fine morning.� Tam Moray
poured ale from a jug into a tankard. Beyond him, a gaggle of older men
gossiped over their drinks. Tam watched where Ewan looked, and Ewan continued
to look at me.
The nature of his stare thrilled me, for it was filled with desire. How I
wished I were on my knees before him in more intimate circumstances. There
would be much pleasure in that.
He supped from the tankard and then set it down. �Miss McGraw, might I have
a moment of your time?�
The scrubbing brush in my hand stilled. I lifted my head from my work.
His smile had gone. �Several of the villagers have spoken to me about you.�
It was then I noticed he was not alone. Hovering outside the doorway was a
man who held a musket in his hands. They were here to interrogate me. Familiar
fears crowded in. I dumped the brush in the pail and rested back on my
haunches, drying my hands on my skirts, attempting not to show how I felt.
�They are concerned,� he continued. �You are a stranger here. Is it a crime
of some sort that you left behind in
I stood up, wanting away from this. �No!�
The truth was I�d had to run, and I might have moved on from Carbrey by now
if it were not for him. I again cursed my folly. His question brought out my
stubborn streak. �Is it wrong to seek a home here?�
�A woman, alone, no family. It is not right.� His
hooded eyes watched me closely as he spoke. Beyond him, the old men craned
their necks to hear what was said.
I held my tongue, lest my defiant nature get me in trouble. The worst of it
was that even while he questioned me, there was a vibrant potency about him
that I could not ignore. We stood but a few paces apart and the distance only
emphasized his stature, his fatal allure. In a small place such as this the
merchant was a man of power, although that was not what drew me to him. Ewan
compelled me to observe him, to desire him. I�d felt his gaze on me, too, yet I
found no welcome in his words today.
�The minister is concerned,� he added. �He wonders how you will support
yourself.�
Tam cleared his throat. �The wife took her in,� he said, taking his chance
to indicate he had nothing to do with me. �She�s done good work in return for a
cot and a few meals. I told her we can only offer her keep for another few
days.�
Tam Moray�s words riled me, but I had to be cautious. I did not want any of
them to discover my secret. If they did, the hangman�s noose awaited. �I will
find more work. I can turn my hand to many things.�
Master Findlay�s hooded eyes scoured me, his handsome lips parting. �I�m
sure you can.�
The tone of his voice made my body quicken. There was lust in his eyes, I
did not imagine it�and with his attention on me the room seemed suddenly
smaller, the air more difficult to breathe. Yet he stood firm, the very angle
of his head suggesting that he was expecting me to say more. This truly was an
inquisition. My mind worked quickly through the possibilities, and then
recalled a notion I�d had.
�I mean to keep a bee hive. There is no bee keeper here.� It was mention of
the Reverend Salter that brought it to mind. I�d arrived in Carbrey on the back
of a rickety cart. I�d paid two coins for the privilege of having my bones
jarred instead of walking. The minister had joined me at Abernathy, the village
along the coast. He carried a package of candles, which informed me that he had
to travel to buy them.
�A bee hive, how industrious.� He seemed pleased
with my answer, his mouth lifting at one corner. �We are wary because we
discovered a practitioner of witchcraft living amongst us, last year. We will
not tolerate such a thing here.� He studied me intently as he delivered his
warning. �That woman was ousted and condemned.�
My belly churned and my heart thundered. I should have gone away and
forgotten about my lust for Ewan Findlay. I had to move on, as I had so many
times before, a wee bairn dragged behind my mother every time she feared
discovery. I lifted my chin defiantly. �Tell your townsfolk they have nothing
to fear from me.�
Now run! My mother�s voice echoed in my ears.
I turned on my heel and headed for the door.
�We are not finished with this,� he declared loudly from behind me.
I darted away into the scullery.
Four strides and he was at my back, his hand on my
shoulder as I entered the smaller room. Wriggling frantically, I could not
shake his grip. I didn�t want to turn to magic, but there seemed little option
if I was to escape and be on my way.
I attempted to whisper an enchantment in the ancient tongue, to become fluid
in his grasp, but to no avail. Before I could say more than two words, he
captured me to him and then covered my mouth with his hand. He was tall, and
his body was hard at my back. I ached for it to be a more passionate embrace.
�Hush now.� His breath was hot against my ear. With his free hand he reached
back and pushed the door closed, isolating us in the steamy corridor of the
scullery. When the door slammed, he clasped my waist through my woolen dress.
�Or do you want to show them their fears are well founded�my wild little
she-witch?�
My innards clenched. Ewan Findlay, the merchant of Carbrey, knew my secret.
Chapter Two
My fate was in his hands. Ewan Findlay knew that I practiced the ancient
craft of our pagan forefathers. He knew that I was that which was feared and
condemned by so many�a witch.
He had me locked against him in the narrow, cluttered space of the scullery,
where the kettle of stew I had prepared earlier that day simmered over the
fire. While my urge was to flee this place and his accusations, the feeling of
his powerful arms around me began to strip me of my resolve, my intimate places
growing hot and needy while I was locked in his embrace.
�Turn your back on the temptation,� he whispered.
His voice was soothing, but I feared he might try to make me forsake my
craft for the sake of my soul. Whatever his motive for dissuading me, he was
right about the consequences. If I were to cast a spell now, with so many
witnesses close by, I would be strung up before the day was out.
Desire and mistrust battled within me. I whimpered, my body snaking in his
grip. Then he stroked one finger up and down my neck. The fleeting touch made
me tingle everywhere. My breasts tightened, my toes curling inside my shoes. He
tipped my chin back, forcing my head to rest against his shoulder. Then he
stroked his hand the length of my hair. I felt his breath warm against my face.
My eyelids lowered.
�Do not let them know what you are, Annabel.� His mouth pressed against my
cheek in a brazen kiss, sending a dangerous flare of longing inside me.
I wanted his touches so badly, but this was a mistake�of that I was sure. I
had lusted after an inquisitor, and now I was at his mercy. I could not trust
him. Turning in his arms I broke free, blurting a warning as I did so. �Perhaps
you should fear me, as they do.�
He snatched my wrist, capturing me easily. �Perhaps I should.� His gaze
devoured me. �And, perhaps, it is because the sight of you makes me harden that
I am willing to risk this?�
My urge to struggle diminished and my heart beat wildly. The gleam in his
eyes assured me that I�d heard him correctly. Those times when we had looked
upon one another with hunger and need were not imagined. Master Findlay desired
me as I did him.
I flashed my eyes at him. �Is that so?�
His hand on my wrist still tethered me. I tugged against the confinement,
but his words had made the nature of this struggle so much more pleasurable and
arousing.
�Aye, Annabel. Perhaps it is desire that made me take this task�instead of
letting the minister do so.� He paused, allowing me to absorb the import of his
words.
The acknowledgement of our shared hunger raced between us. Then he smiled,
devastating me with that one simple gesture, his handsome mouth so desirable.
Behind me, the kettle of stew over the fire simmered and hissed. From the room
beyond I heard voices and laughter.
When I glanced at the door, he nodded his head back at the outer room. �They
will not share your secret, but there will be a price.�
My interest stirred at the offer. �Name it.�
His lips parted and his gaze raked over me. �Since you came here, you have
filled my head. You are a fine looking woman, and when you want a man you have
a canny way of showing it.�
Triumph plumed inside me. I would enjoy him before I went on my way. �Your
price,� I urged, willing him to ask for that which I was all too willing to
give.
�A taste of you, to slake my thirst.� His eyes
turned stormy as he spoke. �You have haunted my thoughts. I cannot rest until I
have known you more intimately.�
My body hummed with expectancy�we would have each other, and soon.
�If you are willing?� he added, and then he reeled me in against him. His
hand went to the small of my back, where he pressed me firmly to him.
Hip to hip, I could feel the hard lines of his body through our clothing, as
well as the growing bulge in his breeches. I ached for it. Looking into his
eyes, I assessed the danger. The truth was he could have me and then spit on me
for my beliefs, casting me out where I would be at the mercy of the villagers.
I should run now, before he changed his mind and had the commissioner condemn
me, as witches had been condemned here before. But I could not, because I
wanted him. And at that moment my need for him was greater than the fear of
what lay ahead. Despite the danger, I nodded. �Aye, if I have your word, I will
pay your price willingly�and on my back.�
He cupped my head where he tangled his fingers in my loose hair. His other
hand stroked over the outline of my breast while he lowered his head to kiss
me. Pivoting within his embrace, I pushed my hands inside his frock coat to
gain the measure of his chest through his shirt. His body was hard and warm�so
enticing. I wanted to be naked against him.
His mouth was firm and persuasive, and I melted under him, my lips parting.
I was so eager for the feeling of his weight over me�eager for the thrust of
him between my thighs the way his tongue thrust so surely between my lips. My
body rocked against his while he cupped my breast in his hand, squeezing it
roughly through the fabric of my bodice, setting loose a crazed need for more
contact�skin against skin, inside and out.
He reached down and grappled for a handful of my skirts, hauling them up the
length of my legs to gain better access. With the back of his knuckles he
stroked the front of my thigh, making me tremble with need. My cunny yearned
for that firm touch. I was already slick and hot, so ready to be taken. If he
touched me there I would not be able to stop myself from having him, and there
was something I had to know first.
I broke with his kiss. �Tell me this. How is it that you knew that I
practice the craft?�
A soft laugh escaped him. �Because I recognized you as
brethren, she-witch.�
My heart leapt. Ewan knew what I was, because he practiced the craft.
Humor filled his expression. He had no intention of ousting me, because this
trade was driven by desire.
Chapter Three
Ewan Findlay was brethren�a he-witch who had both power and the respect of
the villagers�and he wanted me. His eyebrows lifted as he watched my reaction
to his comment, and his vibrant blue eyes shone with latent power, reinforcing
the import of his words.
I could not withhold my pleasure. I whispered his name aloud, calling to him
with all my being.
He moved his hand under my bunched skirts, directly between my thighs, where
he stroked one finger along my sticky folds. I thrilled to his bold touch,
moving my hips to aid him. His fingers roved the territory of my intimate
parts�an inquisition so much more pleasant than the one I had endured moments
before.
I lifted one knee alongside his flank, urging him closer. �Do you truly mean
to explore me here and now, while they stand outside the door and speculate on
whether you have decided to cast me out of Carbrey?�
I gazed up at him and rocked my hips, so that my mound filled his palm.
He gave a hoarse laugh and nodded, his hand closing
over the plump cushion I offered. �Aye, and I will tell them you showed a most
charitable nature when I questioned you further.�
Suffused with pleasure, the forbidden nature of our encounter thrilled me.
He urged me back. I took a tentative step, and again, until I hit against the
wooden table. It rattled behind me. I set my hands on it and pushed the pots
aside, filling with delight when I realized he meant to have me right there in
the scullery, while the villagers were but a few strides away, awaiting the
result of his inquisition.
When I was perched on the table with my skirts gathered around my waist, he
glanced down between my legs and shook his head. �I do not think either of us
can wait a moment longer for this.�
One look at his breeches assured me of his honesty on that point. The bulge
there was large, his erect rod pressing against the fabric most insistently.
He nodded at my chest. �Bare your breasts for me.�
Delighted, I grappled with the laces on my bodice, half undoing them before
I hurriedly pushed the fabric down, loosening my thick linen stays so that my
breasts spilled free. While I did so, he stroked my thighs with possessive
hands, fondling me through my woolen stockings before he rolled them down to my
knees.
Squeezing my breasts in my hands, I offered them to him. He ducked down and
suckled one and then the other, grazing the nipples with his teeth. Taking
advantage of his position, I pushed my fingers through his thick, dark hair,
reveling in the texture of it. The sting of his brusque kisses on my peaked
nipples surged through me, making my hips lift against the hard surface of the
table.
�Yield to me, Annabel McGraw,� he demanded, his eyes stormy, as he lifted
his head.
Oh, how those words lit my blood!
My cunny grew damper by the moment, my spirit delighted by his blatant,
lusty demands. I parted my legs, and gasped in delight when he stroked his hand
down my furrow. Exposed, mightily aroused, and thrilled by his exploration, I
groaned aloud when he ducked down to take taste of me.
His tongue danced over my sensitive places, making my hands fist in his
hair. When he plunged his fingers inside me to test me, I moaned low in my
throat, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I was ready to be mounted.
As he straightened, he licked his glistening lips, grinned and nodded at me.
�You taste every bit as good as I thought you might. Is it any wonder I could
not resist this?�
With a decadent laugh, I gripped the collar of his woolen frock coat in both
hands and drew him down for another kiss. And it was fierce, hungry and
lust-fuelled, our hands roving one another eagerly as we shared the taste of my
desire in our kiss. When he grasped again for the heat between my thighs, I
knew I could wait no longer. I pulled free and rested on my elbows, positioning
myself to take him.
�I knew you would be like this�� he said ��brazen and wild.� His hands went
to his breeches, and he undid them as he spoke. His cock bounced free, long and
hard and ready. �One look at you assured me of that.�
�And I knew you would be like this,� I responded, devouring the sight. I
stroked my hand up and down the length of his shaft, my core clenching in
expectation of it filling me. When he groaned at my touch, I pulled my hand
free. Licking my palm, I stroked the underside of his cock, anointing it.
He shot me a warning glance. �You surely know some canny tricks, Annabel.�
I nodded. �It is my way to be bold about such things. We who are closer to
nature revel in the pleasures of the flesh, is that not so?�
He cupped my jaw in one hand, locking eyes with me. Tension flitted through
his expression. �It is true, but it is rare to find a she-witch quite so instinctive and bold as you.�
He seemed to stare into my very soul, and poised as we were and about to
mate, some strange emotion coiled inside me. I knew then that this would not be
enough. I would want more of him. Mercifully, he reached down and stroked my
damp cunny. My body arched, my breath coming ever faster as he touched my most
sensitive parts. When he eased one finger inside me, I was gone, adrift on a
tide of bliss.
Then he stroked his thumb back and forth over my swollen bud, and I had to
bite the back of my wrist to stop myself crying out loud as my cunny pulsed and
throbbed in release. �I need you,� I blurted.
He took his shaft in his hand, shaking his head at me. �Aye, this must be
done, or I fear we shall both be driven mad by it.�
Easing inside me, he stretched me open. Gratefully, I savored his girth and
clung to him, my hands wrapped around his upper arms through the stuff of his
coat. He thrust deeper, giving me his full length, and the table rocked.
Bliss, sheer bliss, rolled through my entire nether regions. He began to
ride me, stroking me deep inside, where I had ached for him. Each time he drove
his length into me, the table rocked and the pots and dishes clattered loudly,
and still I could not get enough. I locked my legs around his hips, moving in
time with his thrusts, desperate to rise with him and slake our lust together.
Our movements became frantic, and a wooden spoon fell from the table to the
floor. �They will hear,� I said, rounding my eyes at him as unbidden laughter
escaped me.
Ewan only seemed to find my comment a challenge. Thrusting harder, he
wrapped his hands around my bare buttocks, lifting me from the surface of the
table as he pulled me closer. �I will tell them you knocked something over,
while you cried for mercy and assured me you are a good woman.�
�You are a clever man,� I said breathlessly. His crown was so deep I had to
pant for breath. My cunny tightened, release imminent. �Know this, Master Findlay, if I weep today, it is because I�ve been so well seen
to!�
He groaned and drove in and out, owning my furrow. I welcomed each thrust,
each bountiful stroke of my sensitive places.
We were both about to spill.
Then a cautious knock sounded at the door, intruding on us.
My heart leapt.
Tossing back his head, Ewan�s eyes turned wild.
It was then I saw the immense power of his magic. The swirling light
reflected in his eyes mesmerized me, holding me in the moment, refusing to let
me break with him.
A louder knock sounded at the door.
Chapter Four
Ewan Findlay had me on my back, over the scullery table in The Silver Birch,
while several of the villagers waited beyond the closed door. I had willingly
given myself to him, grinding my hips against his as he plowed into me, but we
were in danger of being discovered.
It did not put a stop to Ewan�s actions. He was riding me as if his life
depended on it�and now somebody was knocking loudly, as if about to open the
door. At any moment they might walk in and see us. But we were too close to being
done. Neither one of us could halt. I hovered at the very edge of my peak, my
intimate places throbbing.
The threat of discovery did not deter Ewan one little bit. He thrust on, the
muscles in his neck standing out, his lips parted as he worked into me, over
and over. Then, when he flashed his eyes and whispered my name, I blossomed
into climax, my center tightening around his shaft.
�Yes, oh yes,� I sighed, delirious with pleasure, and then wilted against
the table.
Ewan tossed back his head, thrust deep and gripped my hips tightly while he
pulled free and spilled over my belly. I watched as his engorged cock released
over me, devouring the sight.
�Master Findlay,� a voice outside the door queried loudly. �Do you need
assistance?�
My hand went to my throat, and my heart thundered in my chest. If they
opened the door now, they would find us thoroughly compromised. I was supposed
to be under investigation. This would spell trouble for us both. I could still
turn away from Carbrey, but Ewan�s whole life was here. As thrilling as it had
been, I did not wish to bring him trouble.
For a brief moment, Ewan closed his eyes and then he lifted his head. �Do
not fret,� he whispered. �I will shield you from their sight.� He turned to the
door. �We are deep in discussion,� he called out. �No assistance is needed.�
I chuckled softly, mightily relieved and unable to resist a teasing comment.
�You do not need assistance, for you are more than fully able to satisfy this
woman all by yourself.�
I climbed to my feet as he did up his breeches, mopping my belly with my
petticoat, watching his cock disappear from sight regretfully.
He slapped me on the rump. �You have a cheeky mouth on you, Annabel McGraw.�
I noticed that his eyes were brighter than they had been before, his hair
wilder. I laced my bodice quickly, pulling my dress into order. A flush on the
cheeks could be the result of fierce and emotional debate, but not a bared
breast, and we would be forced to emerge from this encounter soon. �And you
have a canny ability to pleasure a woman, the like of which I have never, in
all truth, known before.�
Ewan gave a slight bow. �I am driven by selfish desires.� He lifted one
eyebrow. �To see you thoroughly debauched and struggling with your lust makes
my own release that much more pleasurable.�
I inhaled deeply, which made my head swim. I was about to respond when there
was another knock on the door. Curiosity had clearly got the better of Tam
Moray, for he cleared his throat loudly outside the scullery. �I have your ale
here for you, Master Findlay.�
Ewan rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. He straightened his frock
coat and then put a finger to my lips.
I watched as he opened his palms. The mood in the narrow room shifted
dramatically as he whispered a few words in the ancient tongue. It hit me
oddly, for the words of the spell were so familiar to me, but never before had
I heard them spoken by a man�a he-witch who had pursued me and mated with me.
The experience set loose an odd ache.
Light glowed in his palms. I had to grip the edge of the table again,
because he had sourced my essence in his spell-making. Drawing upon the rich
pollen that surrounded us after our fevered lovemaking, he harnessed its power.
The action tugged at the very quick of me, where he had satisfied me so well.
The light glowed, and then began to shift and move between his open hands.
Dizzy, mesmerized and filled with the heat from our coupling, I watched as he
pointed at the door and cast his spell. Just as the doorknob shunted and the door
was shoved open, a nearby broom fell across its path, stopping it from opening
more than a crack.
Ewan strode over and reached his hand into the gap, accepting his tankard of
ale. �Thank you, Tam,� he said, and then shut the door again.
A scuffle sounded, and a hushed conversation took place outside.
When our eyes met, we shared a smile. He had thwarted the intruder with a
simple spell, but the fact that he had drawn upon the essence of our coupling
not only flattered me immensely�it made my lust simmer.
He supped from the tankard and then handed it to me. Gratefully, I took a
swallow of the ale, before setting it down.
�We must put their curiosity to rest.� There was regret in his voice, and he
cupped my face.
I turned my face into his palm and kissed it, then nodded.
No matter what happened next�no matter if this was the one and only time we
were able to be together�I would relive the memory of it many times, and it
would keep me warm on the cold and lonely nights.
When he drew back, he ran a hand through his hair and I felt him draw away
from me.
I felt vulnerable, and now he was readying to leave.
My instinct for self-protection pushed to the forefront. What would he tell
the villagers who waited outside? Despite what had passed between us�and
despite the rising need for more of the same�I needed to guard myself. Trust
no one with your secret, my mother had told me with her last breath.
I mustered after him, wary that he could still point the finger my way in
order to protect himself. With my hand on his arm I forced him to stop,
assuring myself that I had not lost my good sense for the sake of a tumble with
him.
�What will you say?� I demanded, unnerved.
His expression was both overcast and thoughtful. �I will deal with them. Do
not concern yourself with that.�
Sensing the distance he put between us in that moment, I wanted to deny the
sense of loss I felt. More important was the fact that my fate was still in his
hands.
�Meet me tonight, at the top of the village where the forest begins�� he
said ��and we will find out whether you were well guided or not, when you came
to Carbrey.�
Those words were so unexpected. �We?� I queried.
He closed his hand over the doorknob. �There are others who practice the craft
here, and the Carbrey coven convenes tonight.� His eyes grew shuttered. �It is
them you should be worried about, not this rabble.�
A coven? A coven I had to present myself to? Wary
of what was beyond the door and suddenly unsure of his motives, I asked, �How
do I know that I can trust you?�
He lifted his eyebrows. �How do we know that we can trust you?�
His statement was delivered as a warning, and I knew that my inquisition was
not yet over.
Then his gaze roved over me once more. �Join us tonight and we will see what
you are made of, Annabel McGraw.�
Chapter Five
We will see what you�re made of.�
Ewan Findlay�s words echoed in my thoughts as I stood down by the Carbrey
seashore that night. He had invited me�nay, instructed me�to meet his coven. I
pursed my lips, considering my situation with caution. I felt as if I were
standing on a precipice�behind me was danger, ahead the unknown. I did not know
which way to turn.
The incoming tide lapped closer to my feet. I pulled my shawl closer around
my shoulders and breathed deep the smell of the sea, savoring it. Along the bay
from where I stood, the cottages huddled together on the shoreline. To have a
home like that, a haven, was not for the likes of me. Deep down I wanted it, though. That�and a man in my
bed.
My skin still raced as if he were touching me, my body simmering. My
emotions were every bit as back and forth as the waters on the incoming tide.
That morning Ewan had convinced Tam and the others that I was welcome here, yet
his words had been filled with warning when he left me.
The rising sense of hope I had felt when we bonded was gone. There were more
witches here in Carbrey�a coven. What would it be like to be part of such a
thing?
I had always known there were others who practiced the craft scattered
across
I sighed, wary of the tangled emotions assailing me.
�The more people who know�� my mother had said ��the more danger we are in.
Friend or foe, be sure to keep the knowledge to
yourself. People may seem to welcome you, but they can turn. Look to your own
lot, and hold your tongue.�
News of more and more persecutions had reached us. One day my mother turned
her back on our heritage of magic, weary of running, weary of being afraid of
discovery. I hated to see the fear in her eyes, the denial. When I tried to
ease her pain and make her well with my enchantments, she pushed me away. When
she breathed her last, I took only what I had learned from her and left
I traveled east, taking shelter and work where I could find it, until I
reached the very edge of the sea and the
It was then I saw them, two women and a man, walking toward me. I recognized
the man. I had seen him at the inn. He was a gangly youth with long limbs, a
twinkle in his eyes and an eager step. One of the women was also familiar to
me, the other not so.
�We will show you the way,� one of the women said, when they got to me. She
eyed me, seemingly as wary of me as I was of her.
Ewan had sent them. I was being summoned. I nodded, not sure whether I should
be thanking them or not. The young man smiled, for which I was grateful. They
led me quickly through the village and toward the woodland beyond.
It was when we drew closer to the forest that I noticed the two women had
linked arms, their fingers locked together in a lover�s embrace. Instinctively,
I knew they shared each other as Ewan and I had shared each other that morning.
One of the women looked back over her shoulder at me. Cautious, perhaps, that
their closeness was being observed by a stranger in their midst, someone whose
disapproval could spell danger. I nodded at her, indicating that she had
nothing to fear from me. I was rewarded by a grateful smile.
What layered secrets Carbrey held, I reflected, as we delved into the thick
trees beyond the edge of the village. When I had stepped down off that rickety
cart, I had seen a village in a pretty cove�a safe harbor for a lonely soul.
Little did I know how much else there was to discover.
Moonlight lit the way, and it took a few moments for me to adjust to the
gloom. Beneath our feet a carpet of fallen leaves rustled expectantly. In
amongst the trees dark shadows rose up around us, like sentinels guarding the
forest. The fecund earth entranced my senses, the smell of pine and the damp
undergrowth filling me.
The path grew steeper, and through the trees on the higher ground I saw a
fire flickering. The lilting sound of a flute player wisped through the trees,
calling to us as we approached. My curiosity grew. The two women who led me
darted on ahead and the young man beckoned, urging me on as he followed them.
I could still turn away. Then I caught sight of the revelers between the
trees, men and women dancing by the light of the fire, laughter ringing with
the sound of the flute. It was a celebration of nature, and it called to my
soul. I hastened after my guides.
Someone reached out and grabbed me as I passed, hauling me off the narrow
moonlit path and into the gloom beneath the trees. My shawl fell to the ground.
Was it one of the suspicious villagers who had been waiting to pounce? I
struggled to break free. Then the man put his hand against my throat and
stroked me there, stilling me, and I knew it was Ewan.
He stood close at my back while he bent his head to kiss my neck. The touch
of his lips was tantalizing, and when he stroked my breasts through my bodice I
whimpered. I was drawn to the heat of his body. I couldn�t help myself. Leaning
back into him I closed my eyes, allowing him to seduce me.
He laughed softly and moved his hands lower, until he pressed the fabric of
my dress between my thighs. I shifted from foot to foot, restless with arousal.
His touch was too delicious. I could not help wanting to be claimed by this
man. Even so, I forced myself to be wary, and plucked unsuccessfully at his
hands, lodging my objection.
�You came,� he whispered, his grip tightening, his voice husky against the
sensitive skin of my throat.
�I had little choice in the matter,� I retorted.
Torn between desire and mistrust, I could not ignore that this might be a
test of some sort. I could be in danger of being driven out of Carbrey by a
coven who guarded their patch�or worse still, ousted
for my beliefs, if they differed�should I fail to behave correctly. I was so
used to being alone, so used to not relying on anyone or anything but my wit
and my will to survive. This was foreign to me.
The sound of the flute stopped abruptly, and laughter echoed through the
trees. A moment later the music started again, accompanied by a man�s voice
lifting in song. The sound of it made me ache. �Across the moonlit heather�� he
sang ��my lassie calls as I roam. �Tis soon we�ll be together in that heaven we
call home.�
Emotion welled inside me.
Ewan rested his hand against my breastbone. �Come. It is time.�
Chapter Six
Ewan had stepped out of the woods, capturing me in a passionate embrace.
Beyond us, where the coven gathered around a fire in a clearing, the sound of
the flute seemed to grow louder by the moment. And my heartbeat raced alongside
it.
I twisted in Ewan�s arms, turning to face him. I needed to see him.
Moonlight filtered through the trees and reflected in his eyes. �Regardless
of what has happened between us�� he said ��we are a coven, and you are the
stranger amongst us.�
�That I am.� Perhaps it would always be so.
He brushed his finger along my jaw. �I must present you. Although, I would
much rather you were still paying your price to me, on your back�or perhaps on
your knees.�
Images flashed through my mind, as he knew they would. I saw myself at his
feet, pleasuring him with my mouth, and then on my hands and knees, with him
rutting me from behind. How easily his carnal suggestions captured me. My body
wavered unsteadily.
He nodded his head and led the way. As we emerged into the clearing, I
caught my first real sight of the revelers. The flute player was a gray-haired
man, and beside him a woman moved her hands to his music, as if weaving. As she
did so, fallen leaves lifted from the forest floor and fluttered between her
fingertips like butterflies.
The two women who had guided me were dancing together. They embraced the
moonlight that funneled down between their clasped hands. Their craft was
redolent in the air all around, a haze of celebratory magic that merged with
the heat given by the fire. Beyond the dancers, I saw a couple mating up
against a tree. The man groaned loudly as he thrust into his woman. She was a
tiny thing, and her dress was up around her waist. He had lifted her with his
hands on her bared bottom as he rode her against the tree. The woman�s mouth
was open in a cry of ecstasy. Both of them were close to release. I could not
stop staring. There was no shame in them, nor any disapproving glances from
those nearby. These people were as close to nature as I wanted to be, and that
called to the deepest part of me.
�A dram?� It was the young man who had guided me up
here. I took the flagon he offered and swigged from it. The rough,
heathery-tasting whisky was welcome on my palate and in my belly, and I thanked
him.
Ewan stood on the opposite side of the fire, watching me through the
flickering flames as I absorbed the spectacle. Here, he seemed so much more
untamed than those times I had seen him striding through the village. He wore
no coat or hat, and his hair was windswept. The shirt he wore was loose and
trailed leaves here and there. I recognized him to be the lord of this forest,
and every time I looked his way, my cunny heated.
The couple who had been by the tree rejoined the group, who were now mostly
waiting expectantly. The flute player continued to play, but much more quietly.
Nervous of what I would be asked, I knotted my fingers together to still my
hands.
�Annabel McGraw,� Ewan said, to the assembled group.
I nodded at the onlookers. Several gave their names. Two of the older women
looked at me with suspicion as they announced themselves. I could not begin to
imagine them welcoming me.
�Tell us, why did you come to Carbrey?� Ewan asked. I was on trial once
more.
I lifted my chin. �I found it a good place, and thought I might make my home
here.�
Ewan was still and masterful�he easily held the small gathering in thrall.
�Do you intend to practice magic here?�
I was unable to deny it. Not while I was amongst such a vibrant magic
circle. �As I am a woman, so am I a woman of the craft. My desires are led by
both things, but I do not seek to harm anyone in what I do.�
A favorable murmur ran amongst the onlookers. Ewan�s face, however, was a
mask. I wondered then if the witch who had been condemned was part of their
coven.
Eventually, Ewan nodded. �From whom did you learn your craft?�
�My mother, who had been taught by her mother before her.�
I shivered inside, for this was the first time I had
spoken of my legacy aloud. �Both of them feared persecution. They died with its
shadow over them.�
Questions came at me quickly from all sides. The young man who had guided me
up here asked, �Why did you leave
�I used my magic to protect myself. I was in danger of being discovered.� I
wondered if I would find sympathy amongst them. One or two looked more kindly
on me as I explained.
�What do you seek to do with your magic?� a woman asked.
�I wish to live in harmony with the earth and her seasons. As the sap rises,
so does my lifeblood flow.�
The woman seemed pleased by that.
Ewan took a step closer to me. �Tell me, Annabel, when do you feel that your
magic is most potent?�
A heady thrill rang through me. Without hesitation, I responded. �When it harnesses the life force between lovers.�
�Quite so.� He smiled then, and the sensuous nature
of it made me restless and slick between my thighs. �Would you care to
demonstrate?�
I had never created magic in front of anyone other than my mother, but the
gleam in his eye connected with the deepest part of me and urged me on. He was
the witch-master. This was my chance�all that was female and powerful inside me
recognized that.
I stepped around the fire, gripping my skirts loosely as I went, glancing at
each member of the coven and then back to Ewan. Approaching the two women who
had come down to the shore, I dropped to a squat and delved my hands into the
fallen leaves at their feet. Physical and spiritual lovemaking enabled the most
powerful form of magic. I opened myself to the women and let their essence fill
me.
Chanting, I called for a picture, and then threw the leaves into the air. As
they hovered and drifted, images of the lovers appeared�naked and joined at
lip, hip and slit. The two women stared, mesmerized. When the images faded,
they laughed in delight and embraced. I captured the leaves in my arms before
they landed and threw them onto the fire. Flames shot high in the air, the sky
above us suddenly radiant and pulsating with their essence.
A murmur of approval ran around the gathering. The flames of the fire
flickered ever higher, the logs crackling in anticipation.
�You surely have the gift,� Ewan said.
I let his compliment lodge and simmer inside me, taking strength from it.
He glanced at each member of his coven. In turn, each of them nodded.
His eyes burned from within as he addressed me again. �We are but twelve,
Annabel. One of us, Agnes, was�taken�last year.� A shadow crossed his eyes. �Will
you be the one to make our coven whole again?�
I wanted it, but the lingering presence of persecution was all around. But
that would, perhaps, always be the way for the likes of us. I considered.
Could I truly pledge myself to them?
Chapter Seven
This lone witch had been asked to join the Carbrey coven. Filled with doubt
but empowered by passion, I recognized that Ewan Findlay had sought me out,
coaxing me into his circle with his undeniable prowess.
They awaited my response, stationed around the fire as they were, revelers
who had paused to greet a stranger and offer her a place amongst them. Could
this be the essential thing I longed for�a coven of my own? I wanted their
companionship, their shared magic, but I also knew that joining them might make
me vulnerable. People can change, Annabel. Trust no one, my mother
would have warned. But she had trusted no one and she had lived a sad, lonely
life shadowed by fear. I did not want to be afraid anymore. Whatever happened,
there was joy here.
All the while, Ewan stared at me steadfastly, awaiting my response. Now, as
I met his gaze, I knew that he surely wanted me. Because he had asked me the
one question he knew I would be able to answer. Even if I had not previously
known about the potent magic that drew on desire and love, he had shown me the
way that very morning, when he sourced the vitality from our hurried joining in
the scullery in The Silver Birch. I understood that, and I could harness it,
too.
My bosom swelled in my bodice as I recalled our encounter that morning. How
lusty and demanding he had been, how he had thrilled me when he had asked me to
yield to him. That statement meant even more to me, now.
Yield to the witch-master.
Aye, I would. I cast back my doubts and opened myself to them.
�Do you think I am worthy?� I asked, but I could not keep the teasing tone
from my voice.
Ewan�s mouth lifted. �Undoubtedly.�
I smiled. �Then I am honored to join you.�
Victory shone in his eyes, and I knew it was reflected in mine.
The flute player chortled loudly, and then began to play again, with gusto.
Each one of them came to me and embraced me. The youth who had offered me his
whisky grinned. �Old man Cawley said he knew you were the one.�
He nodded at the flute player, whose rosy cheeks were puffed as he played a
joyous tune for the dancers. I remembered the song I had heard in the woods,
and it made me wonder. The youth offered me his flagon again and I supped from
it. When I handed it back, he snatched me to him in a hearty embrace. �Welcome,
Annabel.�
A celebration ensued. Dancing and merriment surrounded me, and the forest itself
seemed to shiver and come alive. Moonlight flitted through the undergrowth.
Creatures emerged from their burrows, startled, sniffing the air that we filled
with our spirit.
My pleasure mounted when I saw the way Ewan watched his coven welcome me. I wanted
him, but I knew that he would have other lovers amongst the members of the
coven. Although he spoke with them, he did not dance with another woman, and my
body lit with hope. He had beckoned to me. And I had drawn on all that was
vibrant and alive inside, because of him. I hoped that I would know him more
intimately again. The way he watched me suggested it. Our connection made my
heart race, arousal flaring in me.
My desires whispered around my mind, while I held his gaze. Ewan, you
stepped away, and I have followed. You have nodded your head, and I have shown
willing.
We circled and then closed on each other. He lifted my hands and kissed the
back of each one. �Thank you, for making us whole again.�
He lifted my chin, and claimed me with his kiss. First brushing his mouth
over mine, and then teasing his tongue between my willing lips. The rhythmic
thrust of his tongue over mine made me rock on my heels. I clenched at his
shirt. A cheer rang out in the background, and then Ewan broke free and lifted
my hands in his. The shadows in his eyes were gone. Instead, I found pride, and
brazen hunger. We danced with the others by the fireside, and our mutual desire
built all the while.
Later, when we danced a breathless reel, I snatched at the rough bark of a large
oak as I passed, running my hands over it, connecting with it. Ewan was close
at my heel, and when I circled the tree, embracing it, his body caged mine. He
flexed his hands over mine, shielding them. The action struck me oddly.
�You protected me, this morning,� I whispered.
Would he always do so?
�I wanted you.� His voice was hoarse, and he laid a kiss upon my hair.
Closing my eyes, dizzy with pleasure, I nodded. �It was the same for me. I
thought of little else but laying with you.�
He groaned and I felt him grow taut against me.
I turned my face to the side, glancing over my shoulder at him. "But I
did not know what you were.�
He rested a kiss against my cheek. �I felt you had the gift, but doubted
myself because you turned my head so.�
My heart soared. �You took a great risk.�
�I had to know.� He laughed softly. His warm breath swept over the surface
of my skin, as delightful and elusive as a summer breeze. He moved his head
lower and kissed my neck beneath my ear. �There was something about you�I
couldn�t be sure. Not until you tried to whisper that enchantment.�
Delighted, I began to whisper that very same spell again.
He put his hand over my mouth�just as he had that morning�and moved one knee
against the tree, caging me in as I tried to slip out of his grasp. �Have you
not learnt your lesson? Do I need to forbid the use of that particular spell?�
I bit his fingers softly and laughed aloud, delighted.
He thrust his hips against the soft cushion of my bottom, making me feel the
bow of his erection, making my legs weak. �I mean to have you.�
Sighing loudly, I wriggled up against the rough bark of the tree, adoring
the way it felt to be pressed between the sturdy old oak and this potent
he-witch. He moved his hands to my breasts, cupping them through my bodice,
squeezing and kneading my sensitive flesh. My nipples peaked, and when he
pushed his fingers inside my bodice to touch them, they stung with pleasure,
taking my breath away.
Baring my breasts, he captured my earlobe between his teeth and pressed me
up against the tree. The surface of the bark rubbed my sensitive nipples
roughly and I cried out, my cunny clenching, my fingers bedding in the seams
and ridges of the old tree.
A trickle of my juices reached my upper thighs. Unable to help myself, I
rubbed my nether regions up and down against him. Hard and virile, the very
touch of him made me want to abandon myself to fornication.
Lifting my skirts, he pushed one hand between my thighs and ran his fingers
along my damp seam. �If I am not mistaken, you are ready for another portion of
what we shared this morning.�
It was true. Lust had me in its grip. My body was weak with it. But I knew
that if I bonded with Ewan again, now, my connection to him would deepen and
grow. Was I ready to risk my heart?
Chapter Eight
I had committed myself to the Carbrey coven. Could I give myself to their
witch-master, as well? Right here in their ritual circle, knowing that it might
tie me to him�perhaps for all time? I was no innocent. I had enjoyed many men,
but never before had I felt such kinship. However, I knew I had to accept the
risks if I was to flourish as both woman, and witch.
�I want you,� Ewan whispered hoarsely at my back, stroking my intimate
places again.
The answer was on my lips. I was ready to couple with him. But then he spoke
again, and his face was buried in my hair as he did so.
�I need you, Annabel�my beautiful Annabel.�
My knees buckled.
�Take me,� I begged, desperate for him.
He pulled me into his arms, lifting my feet from the ground. I looped my
arms around his neck, awed at his strength as I looked up at him. His image
filled me completely. Dark, brooding and powerful, he looked as if the flames
that flickered nearby had been kindled in his eyes�in his very soul. I
shivered, half desperate for him, half afraid of what might be.
Carrying me to where there was a bed of fallen leaves, he lowered to his
knees and rested me gently on the ground. Lifting my skirts to my waist, he
pushed my legs apart. His touch was so sure, his vitality unquestionable. My
spirit soared from joy and desire. He climbed between my legs and reached for
his belt.
I rolled restlessly, my body arching against the forest floor. At my back,
the earth seemed to rise, offering me up to him. Around us, I felt the coven urging
us on. The very air we breathed was alive with sensual abundance. I clutched at
my aching breasts, squeezing them for relief.
As he opened his breeches, I sighed with longing. Drawing up my knees, I put
my feet flat to the ground. I moved one hand to my cunny and opened myself to
him, a hot tide rushing over me when he looked at me. Arching my hips, I pushed
one finger inside my cunny. �I give myself to you, witch-master.�
His cock sprang free from his breeches. It was long and hard, its head
swollen and glossy. He wrapped his fist around it and stroked the shaft up and
down while he watched me touch myself.
�I am all but blinded by my need to be inside you,� he whispered, and closed
on me.
My breath caught when he locked eyes with me, holding my gaze as he eased
his swollen crown inside me. I panted, my body so wrought that I needed his
rhythm to steady it. Yet his gaze seemed to challenge me, to search my soul for
knowledge. I rolled my hips, meeting his thrust, urging him on. Clutching at
his arms, I cried out into the night. �I have yielded.� I flashed my eyes at
him. �Now use me well.�
Cursing low in his throat, he thrust deep, his engorged cock stretching me
open, stroking every part of me as he filled me. My bud thrummed in delight
when his weight moved over me, the pressure of his body in all my sensitive
places making me wild�as wild as the creatures of the forest, a thing of
nature, a thing of pure instinct. Moonlight outlined his profile as he worked
into me. And when he tossed his head, his image was one of such potency I
melted anew.
He let out a triumphant bellow as he rode me deep, over and again. Each time
his crown pressed deep inside me, right where I had ached for him. My head
rolled from side to side, leaves catching in my hair. The sound of the flute
danced within my blood. I closed my legs around his waist, our bodies locked
together in this most primal act.
Shunting me against the earth, he grunted heavily. My arms dropped out to my
sides and my fingers rooted into the leaf-strewn forest floor, clutching at the
tufts of grass beneath. I had to fight for my breath, each stroke of his long,
hard shaft pushing me closer to release. Around us a haze of
revelry, moonlight and flames blurred together in my vision, making my moment
all the more poignant.
As I am a woman, so am I a woman of the craft.
The words whispered around my mind, harnessing the magic of the moment as I
blossomed.
I ride the earth with a joyous cry.�
My cunny clenched, released, clenched again. �Ewan��
He tossed back his head, flicking his hair from his eyes, and nodded. �Aye,
lover, I feel you.�
The hot, heavy weight that had built at my center dissolved and rippled over
me in a tide of ecstasy. Carried, I was aglow. Over me, my lover grew as taut
as an arrow drawn back in its bow.
Rising up on his arms, he pulled free and spilled on the earth between my
thighs. His entire body shuddered mightily. I let him level, and then stroked
his face. �I appreciated your generous welcome, Master Findlay.�
When he lifted his head and laughed softly, I gave him a push and rolled him
over, rising above him with my knees rested on either side of his hips. With
the moonlight full on him, I saw how well sated he looked, and a sense of pride
bloomed in me. Leaning over him, I pushed my fingers into his hair and kissed
his face�forehead, eyelids and then mouth.
�I believe I might stay here in Carbrey,� I teased, a moment later, pressing
my breasts to his chest as I did so.
He stared at me, long and hard. �That is just as well, for I have no
intention of letting you leave.�
Reaching up, he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and kissed my
mouth most passionately.
I smiled as I returned his kiss, joyous to the core.
I had finally set down my anchor in Carbrey, and I was glad of it.
The End