Pagan Fire Read Free Page A

enveloping him. Dylan looked up. Sitting in the branches of a sacred oak was the bird, as large and unmoving as any he had ever seen. It stared hard at him and he stared back.
    “What is it you cry so loud and hard for, Friend Raven?” he said. “What is it that brings you here to me in the middle of the night?”
    The bird cocked its head to one side and the white moonlight touched its eyes. “Caw!” it screamed again.
    “Were you, too, awakened from a dream-filled sleep and lured to this very spot, the same as me?”
    In response, the raven let loose with a furious beating of its wings, then descended from the branch and landed on the ground in front of Dylan. It took a step forward and, as it did, slowly grew taller and taller, its very shape transforming before his eyes.
    Dylan took a step back, his gaze transfixed on the sight before him. He’d seen much of magic over the years, during his lessons with Aethelred. Water that flowed in reverse, lead turned into gold and back again, fairy folk and all manner of strange beings. But he found – to his surprise – that he was unprepared for the shape-shifting raven.
    As he watched, the bird continued to metamorphose. It beat its wings again and they changed into shapely arms. It stomped its orange claws on the ground and they turned into long, well formed legs. It tilted its head from side to side as if its neck ached, and the feathers and sharp yellow beak were slowly replaced with a woman’s face. The cheekbones were high and angled, the eyes slanted at the outside corners. The hair, as black as the feathers, cascaded down her back. Everything changed but the color of the eyes. They remained the same luminous silver as the raven’s own.
    “Who are you?” Dylan said. His throat was tight and dry and the words were more of a croak than actual speech. Wide-eyed, he stared at the naked woman that stood before him. Her breasts were creamy and ample, her hips round and full.
    “I am Morrigu,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Do you not know me?”
    Recognition dawned on him. “Forgive me, goddess. I saw you but once and I was only a child then.” He spoke quickly. Morrigu’s temper was legendary among the people who still followed the old ways. It could be deadly to cross her.
    Morrigu’s eyes roamed over his slim, muscular form. “Not so any longer.” She smiled and the moonlight reflected off her wine-red lips. She ran her tongue across them, wetting them, drawing his attention to their fullness.
    “Why is it I never saw you again?” he said. “I’ve sensed you, knew you were here—”
    She took a step nearer. “The moment wasn’t right.”
    Her musky scent rose on the air and reached Dylan. The aroma entered him like a potion. It silenced his tongue and he couldn’t speak. He continued to watch her as she approached.
    Morrigu reached up and ran a long fingernail down the side of his face. He felt a  thin trickle  of blood as it seeped through his skin where she touched him. “Until now.”
    Dylan opened his mouth, then closed it, still wordless. He shifted uncomfortably as the damp ground chilled his bare feet. What was going on here? Was he dreaming?
    “No. No dream, my love,” she said, quietly. “I’ve been waiting for you all these years. Waiting for the perfect time to show myself to you.” She reached for his hands and placed them over her breasts. With gentle motions, she showed him how to knead them, how to pull at the dark rose peaks and tease them to hardness.
    “Tell me, Dylan mac Connall. What do you want more than anything from this lifetime?”
    His face hardened. He found the full strength of his voice and answered, “Revenge.”
    She tossed back her head and laughed, the sound a spell in itself. It stroked and taunted him. He felt desire begin to burn in his loins. Desire for the goddess and desire for the death of the man who had destroyed his life.
    Morrigu’s eyes locked onto his. She touched his shoulders and