The Witch's Protector

The Witch’s Protector

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2023 Michelle Grotewohl

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter One

Fallon, Druid Warrior of the Bren clan, ran on four legs through the forest that surrounded his village, smelling the air for signs of anything- human or beast- that didn’t belong. For a very long time, he scented nothing, and was able to enjoy the cold winter air streaming through his fur, the pinprick bite of falling snow on his muzzle, and the enhanced vision and hearing his wolf form allowed him.

He could see every pine needle on each branch of all the trees, including those that would be far too high for him to reach in his human form even if he climbed. He could hear the trees whispering contentedly to each other, hear each flake hitting the carpet of snow beneath his paws, hear the birds rustling about in the foliage.

The entire forest was calm, serene, despite the chill that made the trees shiver and the air seem heavy.

It was Fallon’s favorite place to be, and he was glad it was his to protect.

Suddenly, the air changed, grew thick with trepidation from the trees and nerves from the small animals that made their homes here. Even as he felt the change, he caught the scent of something that didn't belong.

He stopped quickly, his abnormally large paws lifting a spray of snow to float away in the air. He lifted his head, inhaled, turned to the right. Another slower inhale gave him details about the intruder: Female, somewhere around twenty summers- though it was sometimes hard to tell the age of females because they didn’t get as powerful a scent as males did as they aged- and definitely not Druid.

The scent was far from unpleasant, but very unfamiliar. In fact, it was so pleasing that he felt a stirring in his man’s heart. It was something he’d experienced far too often recently, though never this strongly. His mother told him it was because he was ready to find a mate, bind himself to her, and have a family. Fallon rolled his wolf’s eyes just as he would his human ones when his mother said such a thing; none of the women in his village had ever struck him as more than bed partners, and he didn’t see how one would now, inexplicably, especially since she wasn't Druid.

He pushed all that from his mind; he had a job to do.

Curious, hesitant, he moved quietly on four paws toward a huge pine tree whose ice-laden bottom branches swept the ground at the tips, making what he knew would be a pine-scented grotto large enough to hide a small family.

He looked around but didn’t see any footprints to suggest someone had come through, which likely meant she'd been there for a while and the continuously falling snow had covered her tracks.

Deciding he would do better in his human form- at least until he’d gotten a look at the intruder- Fallon shifted from a golden-eyed russet wolf with a black saddle to a tall, lanky man with mid-back length red hair that had a black strip on the left side and yellow eyes. His leanly muscular form was draped shoulders-to-feet in wolf furs, pelts that had come from his first wolf pack as they had died over the years, gradually being completely replaced by their own pups to form the pack he had now. On his feet were boots made of stag skin that had also been insulated with wolf fur.

Feet moving nearly silently through the fresh powder, Fallon approached the tree, and then crouched without touching the branches so he wouldn’t alert whoever was on the other side of them. He bobbed his head around, trying to see between the branches using just the light coming through them from the other side of the tree, but saw no movement and heard nothing but the natural creaking of the branches and the faint whisper of a breeze.

Thinking he might have mistaken how recently the woman had been through, he frowned and inhaled deeply again.

No, she was definitely under there; her scent was too strong to have been weakened with enough passage of time to cover her tracks. She was either very good at staying still, or she was unable to move.

It was the second possibility that had Fallon brushing the branches aside, had his eyes sweeping the space until they found the woman.

He’d been right about the gender, and her approximate age. But he couldn’t have guessed at the lovely black waves of her hair, or the pale, creamy color of her skin.

She lay with her lower half on its side, her torso twisted so her arms were tossed out, as if she’d been thrown carelessly to the ground. Concern sharpened inside him.

She wore a crudely made dress, the plain brown color doing nothing to detract from her obvious beauty. Though the boughs of the pine would provide some insulation from the cold, the dress was definitely not warm enough to protect her from the elements. It made him believe she hadn’t planned on entering this particular clime.

Her eyes were closed, but her cheeks were pink, so he knew she lived. He could see her chest rising and falling as she breathed, her breasts billowing ever so slightly against the scooping neckline of the dress.

Fallon allowed himself one breath of relief that she wasn’t dead- Any loss of life was terrible, to his mind- but he couldn’t be sure she wasn’t injured or ill. His nose could only tell him so much- he didn’t smell anything off about her, but he wasn’t trained in such things. A Healer in his clan would know better.

He knelt beside her, checking for any serious wounds that implied he shouldn’t move her. He didn’t find so much as a bruise. It was as if she had magically appeared under the tree…

Frowning, Fallon untied the fur cloak around his shoulders and draped it over her, then gently slid his arms beneath her to stand and leave the confines of the tree, using his own body as a shield from the pine’s scraping branches.

He stood with the woman in his arms- she weighed next to nothing- and figured the fastest way back to the village.

After a moment, knowing his wolf form would be faster but would provide no way to hold onto her, he began loping through the forest on long human legs.

Halfway there, she stirred, and Fallon glanced down without slowing- Having grown up here, he knew this forest well enough that he could have run home with his eyes closed.

Her pretty face scrunched slightly in a frown, and she blinked a couple times, giving him a brief view of sky-blue eyes he had a feeling could be icy just as easily as they could be warm.

Their eyes met, held for a moment, and then with a smile and a sigh, she closed her eyes once more and fell back into unconsciousness.

Fallon thought it was curious that she should react so to a stranger running with her through the woods, but who knew what she’d been through before collapsing under that tree? Perhaps he was the lesser of two evils, or she could sense that he did not mean to harm her. Either was possible, and likely: When you lived in a village like his, where magic existed though it wasn’t prevalent, you could believe in anything.

A short time later, he slowed as he entered the village, nodding to the two sentries that were standing guard: Pairs were posted at every entrance, though they had never been attacked- Of all the Druid clans, the Bren had the most warriors, and all the other Druid clans knew it.

Posting sentries was merely a precaution in case humans happened upon them. This hadn’t happened in nearly two decades, but the last time it had, they’d come in unannounced, panicked upon seeing a warrior shift and had nearly set the Great Hall on fire in their ignorance.

He glanced around as he moved through Brenwood, taking in the numerous small wooden homes with gold accents, the white stone building that housed the High Priestess, Gaia, and her small group of female followers, the open-faced shops where everything from armor and weapons to food and clothing were sold.

He calmly met the eyes of any who looked at him curiously: It wasn’t every day that a warrior went on a guard run and came back with a person, and he didn’t want them panicking that he might have brought a paranoid human into their midst. He was a warrior, the leader as he could shift where no others could, so they would trust him so long as he was calm.

Fallon went straight to the Great Hall, a large building with wolf-carving-topped pillars on either side of the door. The Arch Druid, King, and his grown son, Tiberius, lived there. King’s mate, Dawn, had passed many years ago during childbirth along with the child, leaving King with only one child, whom he doted on most of the time.

Fallon thought Tiberius was a spoiled child, even though he was old enough to mate and breed himself. He knew the prince had been with many women, but he hadn’t mated with any of them: According to friends of his who worked inside the Great Hall, King had plans for Tiberius to mate with a princess from another clan, as soon as one came of age, which was a couple years off yet.

As soon as Fallon walked into the antechamber and King’s personal servant saw his arms were full, the smaller man hurried toward the back of the hall to fetch King, who would be in his private chamber.

Fallon moved into the meeting hall and was joined by King- wearing a laurel of holly twigs and dried long grass on his grey-haired head- and Tiberius, who wore a smaller laurel atop his blond hair and had likely heard his father’s servant announce Fallon’s arrival and latched nosily onto the gathering.

King took one look with his green eyes at the package in Fallon’s arms and frowned. At his side, Tiberius gasped slowly and then smirked with an evil glint in his equally green but far less friendly eyes; no doubt, he thought Fallon would be reprimanded for bringing the strange woman into Brenwood.

Fallon, what have you brought to us? King asked calmly.

Fallon could see he wanted to panic but was holding back. He appreciated and respected his leader for the restraint.

A woman. I found her in the forest, under a pine tree. She is not Druid.

He said the last so his leader would be aware that he was aware of his undertaking.

King’s hands came together, fingers forming a ladder. His knuckles were white.

And why have you brought her here, to us?

There was the tiniest hint of bite to his words, and Tiberius’ smirk grew darker.

She may be hurt, my king. And I have no idea where she came from, nor how long she was there. There were no footprints to speak of, no scent trail to follow. It was as if she’d just appeared under the tree.

Voicing his thoughts aloud made Fallon feel like a fool, especially when Tiberius’ smirk turned to a grin, but he wouldn’t lie to his king.

King stared at him for a long time, and Fallon did his best to hold his gaze. He knew he’d done the right thing by bringing the woman to Brenwood, and he wouldn’t apologize for it. Besides, King trusted him to lead the warriors, so he could continue trusting him to keep the village safe from inside, as well.

Finally, King nodded. Very well. We will have a Healer look her over. But you are to stay with her at all times until we figure out what to do with her.

Fallon nodded over the girl’s body. Yes, sire.

King swept his arm toward one of the small outer chambers, signaling Fallon to take the girl there.

As he walked past him, Fallon saw Tiberius snarl and roll his eyes, obviously furious that Fallon had not been punished for bringing a stranger into the home of the Druid leader.

Fallon laid the girl on the bed in the small chamber and stood watching her while King sent his servant to fetch a Healer. He noticed his leader didn’t come into the room, presumably as a precaution should she wake and act aggressively. For the life of him, Fallon couldn’t figure what his king was thinking she would do; she was so small, so delicate.

When the Healer arrived, a female named May who was no older than Fallon himself and whom he’d known all of his life, King remained outside and Fallon in, though she closed the door.

She gave the girl a cursory glance, flicked a light frown at Fallon as if to say ‘She’s fine. Why am I here?’, and then used her hands to quickly check the girl’s body for wounds, both visible and not.

While she worked, Fallon relayed the story of how he'd found her.

After a minute, May said, There is nothing wrong with her. In fact, I can’t see a single reason why she should be unconscious. Has she woken at all?

Once, on the way back to Brenwood.

Did she say anything?

No. She barely opened her eyes, smiled faintly, then went back to sleep.

May nodded. An injury has not induced her sleep, but perhaps emotional trauma. Panic or fear for her life. She will wake again, and we should do our best to make sure she is comfortable and feels safe, else she may rest again. Since she obviously felt secure with you, you should stay with her until we can find out who she is, where she comes from.

Fallon balked. Me? But I have things to do, work, sentry duty. Can’t you stay, or one of the other Healers? Surely she would feel more secure with a woman.

No. Changing her guard could make her more afraid. She needs stability. She needs you.

May’s words echoed oddly inside him as she left the room, leaving the door open.

Fallon stood over the woman, frowning darkly in dismay, as King entered cautiously.

What did the Healer say? he asked, standing just inside the door.

Fallon answered without lifting his eyes from the sleeping woman.

There is nothing wrong with her, physically. But May thinks she sleeps out of fear or panic, and since she seemed secure with me, that I should stay with her.

King nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face.

Well, since you are the one who found her and brought her here, and you are my strongest, most trusted warrior, I am inclined to agree.

Fallon’s head lifted sharply, having expected his leader to insist he return to his duties.

Sire?

King only nodded.

But, sire, I have many things to see to in order to keep the village safe, work to be done, sentry duty to perform. Surely the other warriors will be angry if they think I am getting out of sentry duty.

King smiled, for he could see the excuses were simply a way for Fallon not to be stuck with the woman when he had other things he’d rather be doing.

"I feel certain they will understand that you are doing your job here, keeping watch over the stranger. Besides, when was the last time our village was attacked? Surely you do not feel that