Free Coven: a dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 2) by Steffanie Holmes Page A

coven’s moon priestess, Gussalen. A loud yelp came from within, followed by a guffaw and a pearl of high-pitched laughter.
    “He hasn’t finished his revels yet.” She smirked as she stared down at my naked body, her eyes flickering over my now limp member. Maerwynn gave a little nod of appreciation.
    “Even when your snake is cowering, he is still impressive,” she said. “I can see what had my sister so entranced—”
    “What did you bring me out here for, Maerwynn.”
    “You have said your goodbyes. It is time for you to leave.” She flicked out her wrist, and I saw that in her hand she held a small, straight blade.
    “What’s that for?” I nodded at the blade.
    “Hold out your hand,” she commanded. I shook my head. I wasn’t having any more oaths sworn. My palms were already cut up enough.
    “Ulrich, this is for your own good.” Sighing, I did as she asked. She pressed the handle of the blade into my hand. The double-edged blade gleamed in the moonlight.
    “This is the knife he used on Ellyn,” she whispered. “I have kept it all these years, so that it might taste his blood also, a fitting revenge for what he has taken.”
    “I don’t need a blade. I have my sword and—”
    “You need this blade.” Maerwynn whispered, her eyes blazing. “Over the years I have poured all my rage into this knife, all my hatred and hunger for revenge. It drips with malice, it calls to him, Ulrich. It wants to be united with his flesh. This blade will be your ally, and you have precious few of them.”
    Maerwynn looked up at me, and an understanding passed between us. Memories flooded back to me, of all the times I had stared at those cold eyes while they watched me walk away, of the way they burned into my skin as she watched the fire devour Ellyn’s flesh. I knew she hadn’t changed the way she felt about me, but when she looked at me, she saw her own sadness, her own regret reflected there. She wanted my father dead just as much as I did, and she trusted me to do it. We were united by my task. “Here,” she whispered, turning away and pressing the handle into my palm.
    I wrapped my fingers around the handle, feeling the weight of the blade. It was strange, but for such a small knife, it felt oddly heavy, as if it were carrying a weight much heavier than the thin metal blade.
    “Thank you,” I whispered.
    “You can thank me by gutting him like a pig,” she whispered fiercely, “and by bringing me that ring.”
    I nodded, sheathing the blade. I gestured back to the cabin. “I’ll need to get my things. Can you bring my horse?”
    “Of course.”
    Back in the cabin, I leaned over Ada, watching her chest rise and fall with each rhythmic breath. I wanted to wake her, to hold her in my arms and whisper all the things I would do to her when I returned. But she looked so peaceful, so serene and beautiful with her eyes closed and her golden hair fanned out around her like a halo. I wanted to remember her like this, and not as the weeping mess she would be if she saw me leave. I had told her everything she needed to know. And if I woke her now, she would beg me to stay, and I wouldn’t be able to resist those big, wide eyes.
    I got up slowly, gently shifting Ada’s body and bundling up the furs so she would not notice I had left. I pulled on my clothes, and grabbed my sword.
    “Goodbye, my love,” I whispered the words, and pressed my lips against her forehead. She whimpered, but did not wake.
    My chest felt tight, the pain of leaving her like this real and tangible. Sighing, I followed Maerwynn and Willow out into the night.

Ada
    I awoke in the night , my skin clammy with cold. I threw my hand over the other side of the skins, expecting to feel the warm, hard flesh of Ulrich’s body. But instead, I grabbed at thin air. My eyes flew open and I took in the cold, rumpled furs next to me, and the open cabin door.
    The candle beside the bed was still lit, nearly burned down to a stub. I picked it up and