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grounds.
"Let's see if we can pick up their trail," said Hathura.
Lokynen nodded and they walked to the far end of the little road beyond the
houses.
"See," Hathura said. He pointed to a trampled area with many and diverse
footprints. "A meeting was held here. The Trickster is right. The valley is
endangered."
Lokynen knelt beside a large paw print and measured it with his huge hand,
spreading his fingers. "Rakshasha. Several of them."
"And myn. Many myn and imp prints," said Meleajys from the far side. "Some
are going toward the hamlet of Three Stones."
"Let's follow them," Lokynen said.
When they drew near to the village, Lokynen signed a halt. "We've lost them.
The Trickster hasn't said anything about our revealing ourselves to the locals
yet."
"We have a group of predators to find and destroy," said Hathura said. "I
wonder how Pandeena is doing?"
* * * *
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Malthus arrived to take Merissa walking. She carried a basket on her arm and
wore a red ribbon in her hair, the first bit of brightness he had seen on her
since she received his forged letter concerning her lover's betrayal. Merissa
wore a slate skirt of soft material that swished around her ankles alluringly,
drawing Malthus' eyes instantly, and a loose blouse that matched the ribbon in
her hair. There were no petticoats and tight bodices to guard her from his
hands. It brought a speculative smile to his face. She had dressed for him;
the red vibrant against her fair complexion.
He glanced around for Darmyk and the cat, but found they weren't there.
"Just us?"
"You don't mind, Malthus?" Her voice held a tentative edge, a soft
vulnerability that attracted him and made him hungry. "Do you have someone
watching the girls?"
Malthus kissed her. "Need you ask? And, yes, Clodagh is watching them. Where
would you like to walk?"
"Silver Veils."
His hopes rose, knowing that the Silver Veils was a lycan trysting place.
Malthus took the basket from her, slipped his arm around her shoulders, and
pressed her close against him, feeling the warmth of her. She leaned into him
and, when his hand chanced to brush her breast, Merissa smiled.
The folks they passed nodded greetings. They were becoming accustomed to
seeing them together. Some stopped them as they passed, extending invitations
to dinner, telling them to bring the children. Merissa laughed delightedly at
this. Nothing had turned out as badly as she first expected and she felt she
owed it to Malthus, her ever-present defender. Rather than treating her
child's repudiation as more reason to chide her for her mistakes, they were
responding to Malthus' arguments for compassion.
"See, I told you they like you, Malthus," she said.
"It isn't me, Merissa, it's finally seeing you smile again." He kissed her
dark hair and her face brightened. She slipped her hand into his. He squeezed
her soft fingers.
They spread their blanket beneath a tree near the largest of Silver Veil's
falls, the rush of the water like a counter-point to their words. Malthus'
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hand stole across her to lightly brush the firm, fullness of her breast.
Merissa stiffened for an instant. "I I haven't let anyone touch me in
nearly four years... Not since he left."
"Too long without a man's touch for someone as lovely as you." He cupped her
breast, patiently observing her reaction. She shivered, yet did not retreat
from him. His thumb moved across her nipple, rubbing gently. Merissa rested
against him, her head on his shoulder. He pressed his lips to hers, pushing
them open as he slid his tongue inside. She twined hers about his, accepting
him hungrily. Malthus' eyes glittered: yes, she had come to give him what he
desired.
He freed the bottom of her blouse from the skirt, sliding his hand along
beneath it, finding not to much as a breastband to interfere with him, and
fondled her breast. She moaned softly. Malthus stripped her blouse off, and
laid her on the ground. Merissa's eyes filled suddenly as the blouse came free
and she lay half-exposed to him.
"I can never replace him, Merissa. I can only love you, poor mon that I am."
Merissa swallowed back her tears. "I know."
Malthus nuzzled her breasts. His mouth closed over her nipple, teasing it
with his tongue, sucking it to hardness. She moaned again, this time long and
low. Malthus gave her one last flick of his tongue and straightened.
Time to act the gentleman and pull back. "If you wish, I will leave it at
this. I don't want to push you, Merissa. I love you too much."
"No. I want you." She stroked his hardness, slid her hand inside his pants,
her fingers closing firmly around his cock. "I love you."
Malthus reached beneath her skirt, ran his hand up her leg, and discovered
that she wore nothing beneath it: she had come prepared to yield to him. His
hand covered her womanly parts and his long forefinger played with her
entrance.
"Oh gods, I shouldn't let you do this..."
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"Why?" He slipped his finger inside her.
Merissa caught her breath sharply. "I'm too close to my fertile time... What
if I'm making a mistake.
"Marry me, Merissa. I swear I will try to be a good father to your son...
And to ours should we have them. I love you."
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