Druid Fox Chapter 11

Druid Fox Chapter 11

Fox

“You seem more quiet than usual tonight. Is everything alright, Duncan?” Artie asked.

She always called him Duncan. The magic forced that. It wasn’t important.

“I think I’ve grown nostalgic watching Javier and Isabell. It has lost me in the past. Do you remember how we met?”

“Yes, I woke up in your bed with a splitting headache. Lothlian gave me to you as your servant.”

She frowned.

“I never figured out how that happened.”

“I had you removed to my quarters after he backhanded you into the castle wall. The hit cracked your skull. You were dying. But that isn’t when I first saw you.”

“I didn’t die. You saved me. You took care of me. I was the servant, but you served me instead. If that’s not when we met, then when was it?” Artie asked, confused as she tried to recall those long-ago times.

Did he dare tell her the whole of it? A four-hundred-year-old secret might best remain buried.

What if it killed them both, her knowing? Perhaps he could tell her the part about the loch.

“Earlier that morning, I saw you. You were bathing in the loch. You thought you were alone. I watched, transfixed. At first, I thought you were a pixie or a water sprite. In my head, you became the loch nymph. My fox knew you before I knew you. When you made your way back to the castle, I followed you. I had to know where to find you. I dawdled for a while, then went to the gates requesting guest rights.”

“You spied on me? Why have you never told me this?”

Artie wasn’t angry, just perplexed. Fox breathed again. He smiled sheepishly at her.

“I thought you’d be angry with me. I mean, I should have turned away and left you to your privacy, but I was so entranced by you I didn’t even realize my unacceptable behavior until much later. By that time, Lothlian hurt you, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask your forgiveness and cause you more distress.”

He hung his head in shame. Artie deserved more. She should’ve had a better man. She deserved a true alpha, not a man who wasn’t even strong enough to release her from ancient oaths. His long-ago behavior still weighed on his heart.

“Silly man, do you not know? I’m aware you’re a man! I mean, at least you didn’t take me by force at the loch.”

She sighed. Would she have wanted him to take her to the loch so long ago? Perhaps had he approached her there, things would’ve been different.

“I guess I’d gotten used to being ignored because few men seemed attracted to me. I’m too small. They didn’t think I’d live through childbirth and that meant the baby would die, too. I’m not angry. I’m flattered.”

Artie always saw things in a brighter light. He loved her. He’d never had a chance at not loving her.

If he was honest, he knew that he’d fallen for her that day at the loch. In all the years since then, no one had ever held a candle to the flame that was Artie.

“Come to bed with me, Artie?”

He always asked.

She smiled shyly at him. Still shy after four centuries. She slipped into bed next to him, and he sighed his relief at the feel of her. Fox held his mate.

“Get some sleep, Duncan. Whatever weighs on your mind can wait until tomorrow.”

Artie yawned.

His mind drifted back to the castle in Scotland and the argument they had about her clothes a week after she’d taken up her responsibilities as his servant.

They were sharing his apartment. There was a sitting room or receiving room where he could entertain a guest or two. That was how it all went wrong.

The truth could have been told to her then. He should have. He’d feared the results.

She didn’t know he’d bitten her, forced her to drink down his blood, and turned her into a fox. She was his mate.

He wanted her, needed her. He couldn’t face the loss of her. If she knew the truth, the shifter magic might dominate the fealty oath magic.

It could destroy her mind, and she might still end her life with her own hand. He played a deadly dangerous game. It was one he couldn’t afford to lose.

He’d found a text in England twenty years before, partly burned, and written by a wolf shifter. The work was Pictish. It included some spells and described a method of torturing captured prisoners of war with the rival Celts.

Wolf shifters were the guardians of the Picts. The guardians bit and turned the Celts to strike fear in a larger enemy force. The magic ripped apart the minds of those turned without consent. Some sought their end, others collapsed and faded. They had left all to be found by the Celts.

He’d read a couple of other similar accounts written by different people around the British Isles. It was enough to corroborate Duncan’s fear for Artie. Telling her the truth could end her life. The Celts had healed the turned. He would search for that answer. He would fix his queen.

“Yes, I will sleep with you.”

Four centuries later, he still requested, and she shyly complied. She still called him Duncan, even though everyone else called him Fox. Artie kept his den, laundered his clothes, and brought him food.

She never started the passion; she came to him. He offered it to her, and she never denied him.

He’d kept his word. No one else had ever touched her. He cared for her, provided for her, and protected her. He was madly, deeply in love with her.

After all the centuries, he was still desperate not to lose her. He was the only shifter he knew of to turn someone into a shifter without their permission, and they lived.

If it became common knowledge, he would be legendary. He told no one. The only one he ever wanted to confide in might die if he ever told her.

He sought a way to free her. Each year, she swore her oath. Every year, he swore to protect her. Each time the renewed oath triggered the Druid magic, and he ordered his slave to serve her king as he needed to be served. Artie remained with him. He still feared.

Linked and bonded by shifter magic, fealty magic from her original oath bound them just as tightly. He could never release her until he knew that wasn’t the reason she was with him.

The darker part of his heart still used her. His love for her was deep and abiding. She knew it. He denied her nothing, and she gave herself to him.

He sighed, selfishly wrapped her in his arms, and prayed for one more day with her. Snow in the pines filled his senses and lulled him to sleep.

Thank you for your support! Welcome to the dream… Sincerely, -OK

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