Sara raises her gloved hands to her mouth, warming them through with her breath. Winter will soon be upon them, and desperately she walks through the forest, using the final moments of the fading sun to gather enough herbs to last them through. Those in the village relied upon her balms to cure their ailments, and unable to afford the medicine from the local physicians, they travelled the two hours on foot to reach her. She daren't risk failing them, and even as the last of the sun disappears, she continues her search.

Unusually the woods are silent tonight, and the stars appear unnaturally brighter as she trudges over the rustling, dry leaves. In truth, she should feel afraid in this remote, darkness, but she was often left alone for days on end whilst her father went hunting, and although he did ask her to remain close to home, she never listened.

Getting close to a meadow a distance from her home, where the herbs and flowers grow in abundance, Sara spots some mushrooms and hums to herself whilst she picks them. They'll be perfect in a stew to warm her father's belly when he arrives on the morrow, she decides.

A loud yell from not too far away suddenly distracts her. Dropping her basket, she immediately breaks into a run towards the noise coming from deeper within the trees; then, as she crouches down behind a bush, she clutches her small hunting knife in hand, listening to the voices ahead.

Peeking through a gap, she is startled to see the shadowy outlines of two figures cloaked in black, incanting a language she cannot comprehend from a black and gold gilded book that appears to be hovering before them. At their feet, a man writhes on the ground, appearing to be in agony and she spots horses nearby.

"Clara, what do you think would be most suitable for him?" A female voice giggles as the pages of the book are magically flicked through, endlessly.

"This one, Rose. It's perfect for him, and we cannot displease our Lord."

The pages settle, and as they resume their spell, the man starts growling, emitting a low, menacing, guttural sound. His face becomes terrifying as he continues to contort in pain. I need to do something, Sara thinks, they're going to kill him!

Looking around at what is close to her, she picks up some rocks and hurls them in their direction, distracting them, not knowing what she'll do when they react.  

"Who the fuck is there?" Clara yells out. "Continue the spell, Rose. There's more than just wolves out here tonight."

Wishing for a miracle, Sara delays the inevitable, remaining behind the bush into the final possible moment, the footsteps growing ever nearer until eventually, she cannot put it off any longer.

"Leave him alone! You're hurting him!" Sara yells, in a reckless act of bravery.

The woman standing only feet away, pulls back her hood and releases a cackle of laughter, her blonde, shimmering hair, flowing out behind her. Her stunningly attractive face is marred by the cruel smile etched across it.

"Foolish girl! Do you think we'll stop for you? Hah! I'll take care of this, Rose. Quickly finish him."

As the witch lunges at her, Sara wills her trembling legs to move, fighting against her fight or flight response. Clutching the knife tightly, she runs towards the book in an attempt to damage the pages. It may not work, but she can't stand idly by knowing someone needs her help.

The tip of the blade nicks the cover, and the other woman cries out in horror, as the book suddenly slams shut, and vanishes to protect it's pages, leaving her unable to continue her spell.

"No! The Lord is going to kill us!" Clara shrieks from behind her.

The horses begin to paw at the dirt nervously, and then moments later a howl pierces the air. Interrupted, Sara and the other witch whip their head around towards the sound of the wolves near to them in the undergrowth.

"It's the wolves again!" Rose screams hysterically, immediately fleeing to her horse. "They've followed us!"

"We cannot fail our Lord! We need to return him."

"Do it yourself! I'd rather risk our Lord, than these wolves. Let them eat him."

The blonde witch cries in exasperation at their failure but then joins the other, taking off at speed behind her. Their abandoned victim now lays eerily still, and Sara nervously approaches, frightened by the distressed animalistic noises he had recently been making.

Crouching down, she sweeps his black hair from his eyes and stares at the youthful, handsome, ashen face before her. His clothing, although torn and bloodied, is beautifully made from the finest of silks and cotton so he can't be one of the villagers. Someone is probably searching for him, from wherever he lives, she thinks. Lifting his wrist, she checks for his pulse, and faintly she detects one, so she reaches to her satchel and removes a flask of smelling salts to rouse him. Heavily lashed, brown eyes, blink open, appearing dazed.

"Who are you?" he demands, his voice betraying anger.

"I could ask you the same question. I saved your life," Sara retorts. "Can you walk? There's wolves nearby although I'm sure they're after those witches."

Reluctantly the man accepts her hand as she helps him to his feet and with his arm over her shoulder, she guides him through the trees towards her home, collecting the basket on the way. It's a slow journey as he limps beside her and a bitterly cold breeze chills her to the bone, reminding her she hadn't completed what she set out to do. Winter may be coming early this year, she sighs to herself.

At her cabin, Sara ladles out a bowl of soup for the shivering man sitting at her table, then stokes the fire. She turns around, but he appears reluctant to eat and stares at the bowl before him.

"You need to eat. I don't know what those witches meant to do with you, but you're weak. You need to gain your strength back."

"It looks disgusting! Do you not have any pheasant or even a pigeon, peasant woman?"

"Peasant?! How dare you speak to me like that. I should have just left your ungrateful self to those witches. Now eat it!"

The impertinent man wrinkles his nose in revulsion, but then he dips the spoon in the bowl and closes his eyes as he eats it. There's a noise of contentment, then he drops the spoon, raises the bowl to his lips and drains it, ravenously.

"More!" he yells as he slams the wooden bowl down.

Shaking her head at his rudeness, Sara reminds herself that the man before her has been through an ordeal and she picks his bowl up to get him some more. His hand reaches out, grabbing her by the wrist firmly.

"Let go!"

"Maybe after this, I'll let you warm my bed for the night?" he grins mischievously. The slap is instantaneous and horror flashes across his face. "You should be honoured your Lord would even risk sharing his seed with you!"

"A Lord?" she scoffs. "Release my arm this instant, you lecherous beast!"

The grip on her arm relents, but it's not purposeful. The man slumps and falls backwards off his stool, his face appearing pained once again as he groans.

"I don't feel so good. You've poisoned me! You're a witch just like them! My father warned me about your kind!"

Sara presses her hand to his head and recoils from the heat. He's burning up with a fever, and unless she does something soon, it may kill him she fears. Immediately she moves to her medicine cabinet and removes a vial, then by clamping his nose shut to force him to open his mouth, she releases five drops of the foul-tasting medication.

"We need to deal with your fever. I will then set you up in the outbuilding for the night. My father is due home, and he won't take kindly to a man being in the house."

She pulls off his shirt, disinterested, but then marvels at the taut muscles of his perspired chest as she briefly touches him and bites her lip. With a cold compress, she attempts to cool him down further, looking away in shyness as his intent eyes meet hers.

With his fever finally coming down enough to move him, Sara helps him out towards his bed for the night. She would prefer to keep him close to keep an eye on him, but she didn't trust him to not seek her out in the night. He seems unimpressed with his surroundings and tuts in disgust, but he appears too exhausted to complain further and gets into the bed she makes up for him.

"Who are you?" he asks as she turns around to leave. "I feel better because of you."

"My name is Sara. I know a small amount of medicine, but my father calls it a gift; something I inherited from my mother. I read her old books, and I try to help those who need it, although we're outsiders."

"Thank you, Sara," he smiles genuinely, giving her the sensation of butterflies. "I'm Edwin."

Crimson faced, Sara leaves Edwin and mentally reminds herself that he is a stranger who has already tried it on once. Under no circumstance did he deserve her, regardless of how rich he may be, although she'd never known a man before. Her interest had always been in helping those in need, and a temptation like him had never been put before her until now.

Sara undresses then climbs into her bed. Her thoughts unable to be dragged away from what may lay under the trousers of the man she could have, if she wanted, her hand slides down to discover the wetness of her desire. She may be a virgin, but her body already knew pleasure, and with her fingers gently stroking over her clit, and her other hand grabbing and tugging at her breasts, she imagines what her first time would be like with him and how it will feel to have a man inside her.

Was he thick and would it feel like being torn in two when he plunged inside and spilled her virginal blood? Or would it feel better than it did when she touched herself? And if he didn't pull out, would his seed feel hot as it pulsed inside? She desperately needed to know.

Tilting her head back, Sara cries out as her legs shake in orgasmic pleasure, wishing Edwin could hear her delight. Perhaps he'll be doing the same right now, she dirtily thinks, wanting him between her thighs.

Quickly dressing and then wrapping herself in a blanket with the night becoming colder, Sara tiptoes out of the front door and walks up the path,  nervously, as the wolves loudly howl in the distance, unsure on how to proceed. She only knows that she desires to lay with the virile, man she saved only hours previously. Her father would be furious if he knew, but she never listened to what he said, and audaciously she raps on the door.

"Are you awake?" she whispers hopefully, opening the door slightly.

"No," he responds. "The wolves seem restless."

Placing her candle on a small table, she moves towards the man and sits beside him, checking his fever with the back of her hand on his forehead. His skin is no longer clammy; instead, he seems strangely cold, although when she checks his pulse, he appears well.

"You're cold! Here, have my blanket," Sara offers.

"I don't feel cold, Sara, I'm perfectly fine. At first light, I shall return home. I'll never forget your kindness. I didn't deserve it after the way I spoke to you, but thank you."

Realising he has now decided to act perfectly honourable, brazenly, Sara pulls off her nightdress and sweeps her red, curled hair back, exposing her full breasts and neck to him.

"If you don't accept my blanket, perhaps you'll allow me to warm your bed instead?" she says coyly. "If the offer still stands?"

The mischievous smile from earlier returns to his face and drawing back the blanket covering him, he reveals his partial state of undress, and with strong arms wrapping around her, she's pulled into the bed, with her naked body pressed up against his muscular chest.

Rolling on top, positioning himself between her legs, he ardently kisses the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes upon. Never had he met someone who dared to speak to him the way she did and the moment she stepped out, he'd left the bed meaning to talk to her further then listened beneath her window as she moaned softly in pleasure. Enamoured, he wanted to know how delicious she tasted and with an urgent need to know her carnally, he'd returned to his bed, hoping she was thinking about him and would seek him out.

"You're stunningly, beautiful," he whispers, cupping her face as he undoes his breeches with his other hand.

Having never seen an erect cock before, Sara watches with fascination as it springs forward and to both her excitement and trepidation it appears deliciously thick and lengthy.

"I'm a virgin," she sighs as his lips caress her neck and then nibble downwards to her breasts.

"You are? We don't have to do this," he murmurs, disappearing beneath the blankets "I can do things in other ways."

With his firm hands, gripped around her thighs, he parts her, then the most overwhelmingly, pleasurable experience comes over her as his tongue laps at her entrance. Sara blushes in shyness, as he kisses her so intimately, barely hours after meeting, especially knowing she'd climaxed only minutes previously and he'd be able to taste it.

As his tongue travels over her clitoris, rapidly building her up towards orgasm, Sara moans and writhes desirably beneath Edwin's touch. She tastes just as deliciously as he had envisioned and a deep wish to make her his, fuels him on, regardless of the difference between their status.

She cries out as he sucks her clit, and with a chuckle, he pulls off the covers so he can watch her as her cheeks flush slightly and her mouth parts in climax whilst her legs shudder around his head.

Sara, breathless from the sheer ecstasy that had wracked her body, looks down upon the attractive man smirking from between her legs. Her hand strokes over his raven hair, and then she smiles.

"I want you," she breathes.

Sara cries out in pain as he penetrates her, his girthy cock tearing through and deflowering her in an instant. She had no romantic notions about her first time, knowing she'd likely end up in a marriage of convenience, but as Edwin kisses her beneath candlelight, she can't help but feel like this is as romantic as it could get.

Edwin gazes over the body of the woman beneath him as he pulls away from their kiss, bewitched by her gorgeously lustrous, red hair, green eyes and curvaceous, womanly figure. His need for her grows, and he thrusts, gradually taking full enjoyment of her body as she opens up to him, taking the entirety of his length.

He may even release his seed inside her, he thinks to himself as pleasure courses through him. He'd never done that before, always using self-restraint with his previous Mistress. He wasn't like his brothers or father, with their numerous liaisons and multiple, illegitimate children they wouldn't acknowledge. In fact, the moment he arrives home, he'll request permission to marry, and if refused, he'd give up his titles and live a simpler, honest life, he decides.

"You don't know what you've done to me, Sara," he groans. "Dammit, I'm falling for you."

"And I, you," she sighs.

Sara had never known a feeling like this as she gazes into his brown eyes, her entirety melted to the core by his intense ferocity. Tilting her hips, he grinds against her, and his lips meet hers again as he continues to make love to her, his thrusts becoming urgent and rough as he draws nearer. Their ragged breath mingles as together they reach climax, embraced in each other's arms.

His lips press against her forehead, gently planting his endearment for her as they remain entwined together, breathlessly basking in the afterglow.

"After I return to my father tomorrow, I would very much like to see you again," Edwin says softly, feeling his need rise again.

"I would like that too," Sara nods, feeling emotional. "I need to go to bed now."

"Don't go! Stay with me!" Edwin pleads, playfully pinning her to the makeshift bed. "Let me love you again."

"My father may come home in the early hours," she smiles, kissing him for a final time. "I'll see you soon."

Hurrying back indoors, Sara presses her fingers to her mouth, swollen by Edwin's aggressive kisses and sighs. It was everything she imagined it would be and more, and she knew he would forever be etched upon her heart, even if he disappeared after this.

Walking towards the stairs to go to her bed, the front door swings open and the formidable figure of her father appears, carrying several rabbits and pigeon.

"Father!" she cries out, wrapping her arms around his neck. "How did your hunt go?"

"Terrible," he mutters, placing the game upon the table. "I nearly had him! I'm sorry, Sara, but I'll be leaving again tomorrow."

"You're making it sound personal," Sara laughs, serving him some food. "I don't mind eating rabbit all winter, just forget the big game this year."

"It is personal! He escapes my fingers at the last possible second, every time," he shouts, slamming his fist on the table furiously, startling her. "Those wolves are noisy tonight. Is everything okay here, Sara?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" Sara laughs nervously as his eyes narrow.

"Make sure you keep that door locked and remain close to home when I leave. Don't go visiting those villagers you're so keen on. They're different to us, and they wouldn't help you the way you help them. Right, off to bed with you."

Despite the noise of howling, not far away, Sara falls into a restful slumber the moment her head touches the pillow that night, and she dreams of the man she saved.

In the early hours, Sara wakes up disorientated from a loud noise crashing through the cabin, and sudden heavy pressure against her chest. Unable to see in the darkness of the room, she reaches out, and with horror, she touches cold, plush softness, and a low, threatening growl resonates around her room. Careful to not make any sudden movements, she pushes her curtain gently open to flood her room with moonlight.

Snow, white fur is tinged red immediately before her eyes, and wetness drips upon her face. Fearfully, she glances upwards and discovers fierce maws bearing hideous fangs, snarling at her, frothing with saliva. Upon its head, horns, larger than any she'd seen on a stag and at around nine feet tall, she couldn't fathom how this could be anything more than just a nightmare. The jaws of the beast open mere centimetres from her face and realising it's real she releases an ear-piercing scream of pure terror.

Her father appears at the doorway, momentarily looking horrified then, aims at the monster, calmly, but before he gets the shot off, it leaps through the window, leaving a trail of destruction behind it.

"Wendigo?" her father utters, appearing shocked. "A man-eater..."

"Man-eater?"

Hearing her father's words, and fearing for Edwin, she stares out through the gap in the wall. The outbuilding no longer stands where it was, destroyed by the monster. He wouldn't have stood a chance and Sara bursts into tears, inconsolably.

"Sara, what's wrong?"

"Father, I helped someone. I set his bed up for the night outside, and he was going to return home tomorrow," she sobs. "Edwin's been killed by the monster!"

"Edwin?" he responds, dumbfounded. "In the outbuilding? Did he touch you, Sara? I told you to stay at home and not to open the door!"

Slowly Sara nods and her father slams out of the house in a fury, returning moments later with remnants of clothes.

"Oh, my god! Edwin," she gasps.

"I will get this man-eater, and once I do, I'll be finding a suitable match for you next!" he seethes.

The snow arrives the next day, much earlier than expected, and immediately Sara's father sets about to repair the damage wreaked upon his home and then obsessively he plans his capture of the beast plaguing the forest, ignoring her, and disappearing for days at a time. Apart from a few rare sightings from other hunters, it appears elusive, although the remains of large game animals were regularly found scattered through several areas. Sara, however, finds herself unable to will herself to do anything, and she falls into mourning for the man she had lost.

Two months later, whilst her father is away, a messenger arrives on horseback in the early hours of the morning, requesting urgent help for the village. Hearing that several children are sick with scarlet fever, Sara removes several vials of medication and makes haste, unable to leave others in need despite her sadness.

The journey is arduous in the bitterly cold weather. Still, Sara sets to work immediately after her arrival, managing the fever and discomfort of the children for several days, barely resting with more families than she expected needing her.

By the end of day four, Sara herself begins to feel sick and dizzy, and she takes a moment outside to regain her composure. She'd always loved the bustling village, the smell of the fresh baked goods and the laughter of the children as they played so she loved when she was able to visit. The forest was her home though, and despite a monster being on the rampage, it still gave her a sense of peace to be surrounded by nature.

Walking by the village well, she notices the high stone wall marking the boundaries of the Marquess' estate, and stops, wondering about those who lived there. They appeared to care little for those who needed her help.

"They've not been seen since the youngest Lord disappeared," a woman from behind her says.

Sara turns around to look upon the older woman standing beside the well.

"Disappeared?"

"He was travelling home through the forest after finishing his studies I heard. His escorts made it back, shrieking about wolves like madmen. Good riddance, I say. That's one less to deal with."

Feeling faint, Sara falls to the ground. Edwin was a Lord like he said, and thanks to her, he was no longer alive. Maybe if she'd told her father about him earlier, he may have survived.

"I don't feel so well."

Helped to her feet, the older woman brings her to her home, sitting her down for some food. She can't remember the last time she'd properly eaten since she'd come here, but staring at the stew, she cannot bring herself to eat and her stomach retches.

"Eat up lassie. I've seen you running around helping the younguns."

Reaching to her stomach, Sara suddenly realises she is late. In her grief, she'd not noticed the passing of days, and she was with child. For those short hours she'd known him, he'd changed her life so completely. No longer able to think about just herself with the new life blossoming inside her, she eats as much of the food as she can manage, and thanks the woman for her kindness.

Days later there is raucous in the village with news that the Marquess and his family had died in some odd bear-like attack, in the estate grounds during the night. Promptly, Sara sets off for home to notify her father, hoping to make it back before dusk but the conditions worsen and night falls. Near to home, she hears wolves growling, and she breaks into a run, realising they're closing in on her as they dart between the trees.

Sara sprints towards the meadow where the flowers and herbs grow in abundance. Reaching it, she pauses for breath momentarily and is stunned by the beauty of the pristine snow. She then hears snarls, yelps of pain and then whining from the undergrowth, before it eventually turns ominously silent. A sudden gust of cold air hits her from behind, chilling her through and Sara turns around slowly, trembling with fear for both her and her unborn child's life.

Before her stands the beast, magnificent in size, and larger than any creature she'd ever seen. She wants to scream, but she freezes and watches as it limps towards her with huge wolf-like front legs until it is only feet away and towering above her.

Unlike the first night it appeared, it isn't growling, and shockingly, it collapses at her feet, emitting a low, pained, whine. Sara isn't sure how to react, but she spots a wound to its back hooved leg. In it's wounded state she expects it to lash out, but instead, it lays quiet, apart from the sound of laboured breathing.

Sara, not entirely sure if she's doing the right thing opens her satchel and removes some ointment then tears off a strip of material from her underskirt. Kneeling before the creature, with shaking hands, she begins to clean the wound from water in her flask and then carefully applies some cream and wraps the injured limb.

With the creature peaceful and subdued, Sara can't help but find it beautiful, with its dense, luxuriously soft, white coat. She stares into its amber eyes, unable to find it within her to hate it. From the appearance of the wound, it seems to have fought the wolves off, saving her from a terrible fate.

"Get away from that monster!" The gruff voice of her father commands behind her.

Turning around, Sara sees him, with a silver spear in hand alongside two hooded figures in black; the witches that had attacked Edwin. Her mind reels in shock, unable to entirely understand the situation, but knowing she needs to protect the creature from him.

"No, Father! It saved me from the wolves!"

"It eats men!" he yells, looking sideways at the witches. "Well, it would have, if these idiots had done the job and returned it to its home so it could wipe out the Marquess' lineage."

"We're sorry, my Lord," the witches respond, downcast.

"Not as sorry as I am. Eight years I've spent tracking down that book, living in this hell whilst I tried to get to that monster hiding up behind the wall! Move Sara, so I can kill the last of his line and send him to hell along with the rest of his family."

"Last?" Sara utters.

"That there is Edwin," he laughs, maniacally. "I dispatched the others last night, doing what these two failed."

Hearing that Edwin is alive and laying behind her, she drapes herself over his wounded body, protecting him from her father.

"If you want to kill the last of his lineage, you'll need to kill me too," she yells.

Her father, understanding the meaning of her words recoils and drops his outstretched arm.

"Sara, tell me it isn't true? His father wiped out our village, killed your mother all because she was a witch! You can't possibly?"

"I am. Are you prepared to kill your own flesh?"

Her father seems indecisive, but he then raises the spear and points it towards her.

"No! I worked too hard for this. Sacrifices need to be made," he mutters. "I'm sorry, Sara."

Raising onto all of his paws, Edwin gently whines, pleadingly at Sara. Swiftly she climbs on to his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her head against his soft fur. Her father throws his spear, grazing Edwin's shoulder but into the darkness, they flee to safety, to his fury.

In a small cave, deep within the forest, Sara sleeps, exhausted from what had transpired, buried against Edwin's warm fur. She doesn't know how to cure him, but she's sure she'll find the answer someday, and she dreams about the family she'll raise with him when that happens.

Dawn breaks, and as Sara turns around, she realises the fur she was snuggling has been replaced with the firmness of a masculine man's body. Opening her eyes incredulously, she finds Edwin's perfectly handsome face beaming at her.

"Good morning, beautiful," he says, stroking her wild hair.

"How are you cured?"

"I'm not, but it appears when you saved me, you may have ruined a crucial part of the spell. It only happens at night," Edwin muses. "Also, from my vague memories of last night, I seem to recall you may have some news to give me?"

"Edwin, I'm with child!" she gushes.

Rolling Sara, on top of him, he kisses her passionately, giving her no doubt of his feelings for her as they make love, cementing the bond growing between them. Throwing her head back, Sara calls out into the brisk morning air, ecstatic from the pleasure soaring inside her.

"Anyone would think this is some kind of fairytale," Edwin jokes, watching in wonderment as the redheaded temptress rides him, entirely in love.

Neither Sara nor Edwin returned from the forest afterwards, but their mating calls could be heard every morning by the hunters to their amusement, from deep within the trees. There were accounts of rare glimpses of a white beast, larger than a bear running in the darkness with a redhaired witch upon its back, but as the summer arrived, they were never sighted again, their love story becoming nothing more than a folktale to keep children safely tucked up in bed before nightfall.