Ravished by the Wolf God: a medieval fantasy erotic romance (God of Night Book 1)

BOOK: Ravished by the Wolf God: a medieval fantasy erotic romance (God of Night Book 1)
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RAVISHED BY THE WOLF GOD

GOD OF NIGHT #1

 

 

By

Belle Divine

 

KINDLE EDITION

 

* * * * *

 

Ravished by
the Wolf God (God of Night #1)

Copyright (c)
2014 by Belle Divine

 

Cover
photography © conrado | Shutterstock

Cover Design:
Love Hypothetically Books

 

All rights
reserved.

 

Kindle Edition
License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other
people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please
purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're
reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use
only, then you should return to the Amazon website and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the author's work.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

I've
lived by my wits my whole life, but the first time I'm caught thieving is by a
seven foot tall wolf man shape shifter claiming to be the god of night. When he
proves it, I submit to him, because I too am of the night, and in the night we
will consummate our furious passion...

 

 

I
scaled over the rooftops, silent in my soft leather boots, and almost invisible
under my stolen cloak of shadows. I grabbed a secure handhold and paused, glancing
back the way I’d come.

Silence.
No one knew I had even been in the manor, let alone escaped with one of the
biggest prizes to ever reach the black market.

The
lord of the manor was filth, a scumbag notorious for pilfering from his poorer
employees to furnish his own house. He taxed them higher than they could afford
and worked them almost to death. He’d stolen the infamous cloak of shadows from
a merchant in a dirty job, and I was stealing it back.

I
had been concerned that one of the guards might have seen me: a tall brute –
one of the expensive wolf men topping out at seven feet tall – hidden half in
shadow himself, but there was no one following me. How could they? I was a
master thief. I’d never been caught. No, scratch that. I’d been caught before,
but I always got away. I’d never been
punished
. I smiled to myself,
tucking the cloak tighter around my long hair before leaping to the next roof.

I
landed clumsily, a tile under my foot moving before I could right my balance. I
slid, flailing in terror and trying not to scream. My hands reached for the
gutter but one tangled in the silky soft cloak and I missed the chance to stop
myself tumbling off the roof…

and
into the strong arms off…

The
wolf man!

I
gasped for breath, but before I could scream the wolf jammed a fur-covered hand
over my mouth. Terrified, my eyes rolled back in my head in a double F – my
signature Faint Feint, which normally took gentlemen by surprise and loosened
their grip enough for me to take flight on the rare occasion I was caught
stealing something.

The
wolf wasn’t fooled. His grip tightened on my arm caught up in the cloak.

“Lose
something?” he said softly, his voice deep and gravelly, cultivating a growl
deep down in his chest. He was built like a hairy barbarian warrior, his fur
soft and sleek over large, defined muscles, but it was his face that gave him
the name ‘wolf’. That face wasn’t quite human, except for the shocking sapphire
blue of the eyes. A protruding muzzle hid long sharp teeth, showed a black
nose, a deep brow.

I
lurched to my feet and tried to extricate myself from his grip by surprise, but
he was more canny than he looked. His bright blue eyes bore into mine as he
hauled me by the arm into the air to his eye level. My feet flailed, finding no
purchase. The hood of the cloak fell back, exposing my long brown hair, and
thus my gender.

“Let
me go,” I pleaded, grabbing at my restrained arm with my free one, trying to
lessen the pressure of his massive paw-hand. He could crush my wrist easily. “You
can have the cloak, just let me go.”

“Now
why would I do that?” the wolf growled, his eyes narrowing. I felt a flurry of
fear shimmy up my spine. The last thing I wanted was to have the wolf drag me
back to the manor I’d just escaped from. To say the lord had a bad reputation
was an understatement. I was sure he’d flail the skin from my back. Or cut off
my hand. Or have me raped to death.

“Please,”
I begged, my mind flashing to any possible escape route. Unless the wolf let go
of me, I wasn’t going anywhere. Like a fool I trusted in my own skills and carried
no weapon to defend myself. I’d thought the cloak would be enough to hide me.
“I’ll do anything.”

His
sapphire eyes brightened. “Anything?” His gaze roved over my body, almost like
he could see underneath my clothes, and liked what he saw. I nodded slowly,
dread clawing at my heart. I had a bad feeling the wolf had just thought of
something deliciously wicked.

He
lowered me to my feet and began walking, dragging me along beside him. I
stumbled and almost fell, tripping over cobblestones.

“I
can walk unassisted,” I snapped.

“You’re
not going anywhere,” he snarled. His grip tightened, bruising, around my
forearm, although the silken water effect of the stolen cloak soothed the
burning feeling.

“Where
are you taking me?” I squeaked as we passed through the town. “Don’t take me to
the magistrate, please, I promise I won’t do anything like this again! You can
take the cloak back to your employer, please I beg of you, don’t turn me in!”

He
stopped and hauled me against the wall of an large, solid building, shoving me
bodily against it with both hands on my shoulders. The cloak slipped off one
shoulder, exposing the skin there. His eyes trailed to that patch of skin and I
fumbled at the knot at my throat. The cloak released from my shoulders but
stayed in place, caught between my back and the wall behind me.

“I’m
not working for anyone,” the wolf said, his gaze moving from my shoulder to my
face. “What’s your name?”

“Sparrow,”
I blurted, the first word that came into my head.

His
eyes narrowed, and I knew he knew I’d lied.

“What’s
your real name, little sparrow?”

“Kayla,”
I squeaked.

“Kayla,”
he said softly, all hints of the growl in him gone now. “I’m not going to hurt
you, and I’m not going to turn you in, but you made me a promise.”

My
eyes widened.

“My
name is Nocturne, and I give you my word, no harm shall come to you if you
submit to my will.”

“You’re
named after the god of night?” I whispered.

“No,”
he said, a smile upon his lips. “I am the god of night.”

I
stared at him. It wasn’t uncommon for the gods to enter the earthly realm on
whatever whims they fancied, and they had even taken mortal lovers, but I’d
seen a dozen people claiming to be one of the gods in mortal form in the last
week alone. One was a fool dressed in a cloak made of crow’s feathers, pretending
to be Corax, the god of the underworld. He’d been carted away to an asylum. One
of the lesser imaginative people put a fish on their head and claimed to be
Halio, the god of the ocean. There was no law against impersonating a god, as
we retold their stories through playacts and literature, and it was supposed to
be easy to tell when one crossed your path. If you were fooled by an
impersonator, you deserved to be fooled.

“Forgive
my scepticism, my lord,” I said, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of
my voice. “But I can’t just-“

When
I raised my eyes to his I lost my voice. His eyes glowed brighter, the clear
blue illuminating every curve and angle in his pointed wolf’s face. In that one
moment I swear he appeared human, his soft coat of smooth fur replaced by pale
flesh, and his angular muzzle softening into the face of a handsome man,
clean-shaven and boyish.

His
point made, the glow faded. My voice wouldn’t work. I squeezed my eyes shut and
willed to scream, but there was nothing. I was in the grip of a god, and I was
helpless.

“I
don’t mean to frighten you, little sparrow,” he said at last. “But it would be
more pleasurable for the both of us if you do not fight me.”

He
took my hand and kissed it gently, his breath a soft summer’s breeze on my skin.
In shock my eyes flew open and he captured me in his hypnotic gaze, his eyes
never leaving mine, burning into me, flaying my soul.

“My
lord,” I said, my voice cracking. It wasn’t so unusual that the god of the
night would choose a thief to dally with, one born for the darkness such as he.
For the first time I allowed my gaze to linger over his fur-covered body, his
muscular physique evident beneath all that lush dark grey fur. He wore nothing
but cut-off canvas trousers, a meek appearance for one who could summon the
masses to do his bidding and be served by royalty itself. Would I enjoy giving
myself to such a beast?

Did
it matter whether I enjoyed it? He seemed intent on taking me regardless. The
thought made me shiver.

“Did
you follow me from the manor?” I whispered as his whiskers tickled my palm.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He
stopped and looked at me. I barely came up to his shoulder. “You intrigued me.”

He
took my hand in a much gentler grip than before, and I hesitantly curled my
fingers around his own, trying to squash my fear and anticipation down in that
bold move. It was an honour to be chosen by the gods. One of my school friends,
Mimi, had been chosen by Halio the god of the ocean when she was fourteen, and
lost her virginity to him. She soon decided no lover could ever be as
wonderful, and promptly took herself off to a convent to pledge herself to him
forever more.

But
I had to be careful. Tales abounded of maidens and lads who pined after their
immortal lovers, waiting for them, broken-hearted that one so mighty could use
and abuse one so meek. The gods were ageless, eternal, and saw us mortals only
as ants, or pets.

I
would dally with Nocturne, and then I would return to my life, thankful I still
wore all my skin and wasn’t rotting in jail. It was a steep price to pay for my
life, but I would gladly pay it.

I
dared to reach out and stroke that luxurious fur on his chest. It felt silken
and smooth beneath my fingers, and he closed his eyes as a happy rumble
emanated from his chest.

“I’m
not afraid,” I said, but swallowed hard.

“Good.”
He smiled serenely, and tugged on my hand. “Come with me.”

I
trailed behind him as he led me out of the dark street and the city, and into
the forest. The trees pressed all around us, but I wasn’t afraid, not with the
cloak of shadows tucked around my shoulders once more. I was of the night, too,
born to it, raised in it, living in it. And nothing would dare bother Nocturne.

I
kept stealing glances at him as he led me further into the forest. If he hadn’t
already proven he was who he said he was, I never would have gone with him. I
watched as his bushy tail, hanging low and heavy down to his calves, swung back
and forth, twitched like his ears atop his head. I wondered what it would be
like to lie with such a being – not the god part, because Mimi had described in
great detail her own experience – but the beast part. He had so much fur! And I
wasn’t sure how to kiss a wolf’s muzzle – or even if he would want to kiss me
at all. Perhaps he just wanted to rut like an animal, base and instinctual and
all things godly.

He
paused and looked behind. “Just a little further, little sparrow.”

I
let him lead me far into the woods, farther than I’d ordinarily travel by
myself, or at night. I couldn’t help but feel safe with Nocturne. Maybe it was
the residual power lingering from his brief show of immortality. The way the
noises of the night fell silent as we passed. Even the shadows bent to his
will.

At
last, he came to a halt before a small, cosy but strong-looking cabin. By the
light of the crescent moon I could tell it had been well build, but I wondered
who it belonged to, out in the middle of the forest.

“It’s
a traveller’s hut,” Nocturne said, opening the door and stepping back to let me
pass the threshold first. “In case there’s a snow storm or wild weather,
travellers can take refuge. I hope you don’t mind, only I find the city hems me
in, especially on such a glorious night as this.”

“I
don’t mind,” I said, looking around the cabin. It was one room, with one small,
firm-looking bed, a fireplace already set with firewood and kindling, a short
table with two hardy-looking chairs, and a cabinet I assumed must be some kind
of larder.

Nocturne
bent before the fire, but instead of striking a match he simply touched one claw
to the kindling and it leapt to life with a hungry roar, hot and bright. I squeezed
my eyes shut from the bright glare, and when the white spots faded I opened
them again.

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