Faolan

Description

Faolan – Mychael Black

A young, lone wolf, hidden in the woods for the past decade. A desperate lord, lovesick for something that once seemed to perhaps blossom, but never fully bloomed. There was no time for anything to come of the intense feelings… but there may yet be hope. When the lord reunites with the man of his unwavering, evergreen desire – what will come of it? Did both men’s love stand the test of time?

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EXCERPT:

Faolan flattened himself against the wall, the rough surface of the stone scratching his back relentlessly. The thin fabric of his shirt was no barrier as his senses were already on full alert, making him painfully aware of even the most minute of sensations. This was bad — very bad. He drew in a deep, steadying breath and quelled the instinctual fight-or-flight urge. At this moment, caution was of the utmost importance.

A shadow passed by the opening of the crevasse, then another. Seconds later, shouts drifted between the rocks of the fissure, the voices carrying to the far end and the man who stood silent as the grave. They had not seen him, but they were still searching for him. Only when he heard their voices carry away did he dare to venture from his hiding place. As he slid along the narrowed crevasse it became increasingly obvious that there was only one way he was going to get out. He stopped halfway and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then another. With his hands and knees firmly anchored on the ground, he gave way to the creature within.

* * *

A howl rang out shrilly through the night.

“We’ll be hard pressed to find the cur now,” one of the men grumbled.

“You’re lucky he didn’t fight you all, Captain,” came a tart, abrasive reply from behind the nervous man.

The captain swallowed hard and turned to face his formidable employer. His face drained of its color. “Lord Taran, we did not expect you.”

The lord’s black eyes narrowed. “I see that,” he mused quietly. “I seem to recall merely instructing you to find the young rogue — not for you to scare him into the depths of the mountain.”

The captain shrank back, shaking from the sparse grey hairs on his head to the black, mud-caked boots on his feet.

“Where is he?” the lord asked with an annoyed sigh.

The captain silently pointed to a darkened path that led to the mountain’s sheer face. The lord smiled and turned, leaving the captain and his men to contemplate what lay ahead in their punishment for failure.