Highlander Oath Of The Beast Page 9

  After Wolf was back on his feet, he offered, “Drink to quench that thirst your journey has cost you and food enough to fill your belly.”

  Lars slapped his sizeable stomach and laughed. “An offer I can’t refuse.”

  Wolf spotted his wife as they got near the longhouse. She was with Iver and from the look of them both, dirt clinging to their garments and pine needles poking out of her hair, they’d been in the woods.

  “Raven!” he called out and when she turned his way, she smiled and it was like a touch of sunshine on an overcast day. He felt a catch in his chest and silently berated himself for letting her smile affect him. But if he was honest, it wasn’t only her smile that played havoc with his heart and tormented his loins. It was her beauty that shined through the smudges of dirt and the way she held herself erect with such confidence.

  “She’s a beauty even though she’s a bit messy,” Lars said as she approached them. “You and she will make fine looking babies together.”

  A reminder that it was not yet a possibility poked at him annoyingly. He had wanted a marriage with little angst, the main reason he had agreed to wed Eria. She was sweet and kind and would have made a good, obedient wife. She was the complete opposite of Raven.

  “And who is this giant of a man?” Raven asked when she stopped beside her husband.

  Lars stepped forward, his arms reaching out to grab Raven in a hug.

  “Stop right there, giant,” she ordered, her knife in her hand, warning him off.

  Wolf glared at the knife. How did she do that? The knife was suddenly there in her hand. He hadn’t even seen her reach for it and he was right beside her.

  Lars’ hands went up, but his generous smile stayed steady. “Impressive. I didn’t even see you reach for your weapon. You are lucky to have a warrior woman for a wife, Wolf. She will serve you well.”

  “What’s a Northman doing here?” Raven asked, returning her knife to its sheath without taking her eyes off the large man.

  “I’ve brought important word from Wolf’s father.”

  While Wolf would have preferred Lars hadn’t shared that information, he understood why Lars hadn’t hesitated to respond to his wife. Any good warrior responded without question to an authoritative command, and Raven certainly had spoken as one accustomed to such status.

  “Let’s retire to the longhouse and while you fill that large belly of yours with food and drink you can tell me of my father’s message,” Wolf said.

  Raven followed right along with them, having no intention of being left behind. Besides, she was curious as to the message.

  “Detta!” Lars yelled, seeing the elderly woman and ran to swing her up into a hug.

  Raven remained silent as she walked alongside her husband. The quick way his eyes had traveled over her and the disapproval she’d seen there of her appearance all but confirmed it wouldn’t be long before he said something to her. At the moment though, she was more curious as to why Lars was greeting Detta like a long lost friend. With all that had been going on, she hadn’t paid much heed to Detta, the woman doing as Oria had told her—keeping to herself. But seeing the way Lars greeted her poked Raven’s curiosity.

  “What were you doing in the woods?” Wolf demanded.

  She saw no reason not to tell him the truth. “Iver was teaching me how to track and there’s no need to remind me about my arm. I’m cautious with it and it heals nicely.”

  Something he already knew since he had insisted at taking a look himself when Wren was last here. But he hadn’t been the only one, her da had insisted as well. But her da had done so out of love and worry for his daughter. What had been Wolf’s reason?

  Before he could chastise her like her brothers once did, she said, “Lars seems to know Detta.”

  “He’s been here before.”

  A hasty response, at times, could be suspect. That’s what the old man used to tell her. She grinned and called out, “How long has it been since you’ve seen Detta, Lars?”

  The way the giant of a man froze told her what she thought and she turned to her husband. “You lied to me.”

  “Detta is from my tribe.”

  The news brought Raven to an abrupt halt. “Are you telling me you planted an old woman here to spy for you?”

  “And what of Clive?” he shot back. “His visits here as a merchant weren’t meant to acquire information for you?”

  “You compare—equal it to—Clive visiting as a traveling merchant to sending an old woman to live away from her family for years?” she asked.

  “All in my tribe do what is necessary and without question,” Wolf said. “A lesson, as my wife, you should learn.”

  Raven didn’t follow right away when he walked off. Something poked at her. Why send an old woman here to spy? And why leave her here after he’d laid claim to Learmonth? Didn’t she have family to return to?

  Her husband and Lars had disappeared inside the longhouse, but Detta had turned and was walking off toward the keep.

  “Detta,” Raven called out and the old woman stopped and turned to face her.

  “Lady Raven,” Detta said with a gentle smile.

  Raven could see past the years that had aged her to the beauty she must have once been, years that hadn’t robbed her lovely, soft green eyes of their luster. “We’ve yet to actually meet.”

  “My duties are at the keep, yours are at the longhouse, but if you should need me for anything—”

  “I do need you,” Raven interrupted and caught the slight rise of the woman’s brow.

  “How may I help?” Detta asked.

  “I’ll let you know. You can go now,” Raven said purposely dismissing her as one would a servant and once again caught the slight rise of her brow. There definitely was more to the woman than she was being told.

  Raven hurried into the common room to take a seat next to her husband. Lars was already busy eating from the wealth of food on the table.

  “You’re cold?” Wolf asked, seeing she kept her wool cloak on and hugged it around her.

  “Snow is in the air,” Lars said between bites. “I can smell it.”

  “He’s right,” Raven said with a shiver. “The animals are restless in the woods. They sense something is coming.”

  “Ida,” Wolf called out to the servant lass who lingered nearby. “Bring my wife a hot brew.”

  As the lass hurried off, Wolf got up and went to the table next to theirs, retrieved his fur cloak and brought it back to drape over his wife’s shoulders and tuck around her.

  His thoughtful actions stunned Raven and he surprised her even more when he sat close enough for their sides to touch and for his leg to lean against hers under the table, sharing his heat with her as he did each night in bed.

  “It is good you care for your wife. Marriage is much better when you care for each other,” Lars said.

  Raven was surprised when her husband smiled.

  “My wife does have very strong feelings for me,” Wolf said and turned a wide grin on her.

  She grinned back at him. “I certainly do have strong feelings for my husband.”

  “Wonderful. Your father thought for sure one of you would kill the other before you were wed for a full moon cycle.” Lars shook his head. “Not so your mother. She insisted you would make a good husband and you would treat your wife well.” He laughed. “She’s proved your father wrong again.”

  Raven hugged the tankard of hot cider Ida had brought, warming her hands, and wondering how his mother could think that when she knew Raven had reason to hate her son. Or did his mother know something she didn’t?

  “What message do you bring from my father, Lars?” Wolf asked to turn the subject away from how he and Raven felt toward each other. It was a thorn in both their sides, one he feared might prove impossible to remove.

  Lars rested his beefy arms on the edge of the table. “Brynjar is seeking a union with Eria.”

  Raven felt her husband’s anger surge, his arm muscles growing taut against her
.

  “Her family can’t be serious to agree to such a dreadful union,” Wolf said, trying to keep hold on his anger. “Eria wouldn’t last but a day with the brutal man.” He shook his head. “Brynjar doesn’t care about a union with her tribe. He does this to see what I’ll do.”

  “Eria’s family asked that she be sent here to you, fearing he’ll abduct her, leaving them no choice but to yield,” Lars said.

  “That’s exactly what Brynjar wants,” Raven said. “The perfect excuse to return here and finish what he started.” She looked at her husband. “He wants his revenge on you. Maybe his men are already here and it’s one of them who pierced my arm with an arrow. It did have a Northmen symbol carved in it.”

  Lars eyes spread wide at the news. “Someone attempted to kill you?”

  “She was too fast for him, the arrow caught the flesh of her arm,” Wolf said. “I sent trackers but whatever men the culprit met up with had dispersed in different directions, leaving it difficult to follow from there. The men continue to search to see if anything can be found.”

  “Well it certainly was no Northman from our tribe,” Lars said and gave a nod to Raven. “You’re safe with us.”

  She liked to believe she’d eventually be able to stop looking over her shoulder, but she wasn’t sure about that.

  “Since Brynjar expects you to bring Eria here, she’ll stay where she is,” Lars said.

  “No!” Wolf and Raven said in unison.

  Lars smiled. “You think alike. That is good, means less arguing between you both.”

  Wolf doubted that and from the way his wife rolled her eyes, he knew she thought the same.

  “It would be easier to battle Brynjar on land unfamiliar to him,” Raven said.

  Lars asked what Wolf had been thinking. “You are familiar with Brynjar?” Lars’ fingers disappeared into his thick beard, giving his chin a good scratch as his eyes settled on her in question.

  “All foreigners on my home soil are suspect to me,” she said, glaring at Lars.

  Lars smiled and looked to Wolf. “I like your wife.”

  Wolf ignored Lars’s remark and turned a scowl of his own on his wife. “Brynjar is not only a dangerous man but an evil one. If he should show himself here again you will keep your distance.”

  “What do you mean if?” Raven challenged. “You know he will come after Eria, though that will be just an excuse and do you not also use it as an excuse for him to come here, so you may finish what was started between you both?”

  Lars saluted her with his tankard. “A quick mind as well, and she’s right. It must be finished between you and Brynjar. His evil ways disturb the peace in our homeland. He needs to die.”

  “So where did you leave Eria?” Raven asked and shook her finger at him. “And don’t look at me like you don’t know what I mean. All knew Wolf wouldn’t hesitate to protect the woman he was to wed. And his father would send the man he would trust the most to bring her safely here. So where is she?”

  Lars shook his head. “Your wife’s mind works far too quickly. There’ll be no secrets between you two.”

  “There better not be,” Raven said.

  “That works both ways,” Wolf warned, leaning his head down so their faces almost touched. “That means later you will tell me the actual reason you were in the woods.” He lifted his head and gave a quick nod to Lars. “Where is she?”

  “Eria wanted to see her best friend,” Lars said.

  “She’s with Greta,” Wolf said and Lars nodded. “And if I know my father, he’s ordered you to remain here to help me.”

  “You wound me, Wolf,” Lars said, with a pound to his chest. “Your father didn’t have to order me. I want to be here.”

  “I have no doubt of that, Lars, and I’m glad you’re here,” Wolf said.

  Raven stood. “I’m going to visit with Eria.”

  “Sit. You’ll wait for me,” Wolf ordered.

  Raven laughed. “You forget so soon that I don’t take well to orders?” She dropped his cloak beside him on the bench and turned to leave.

  He reached out quickly and grabbed her arm and cursed when she cried out. He dropped his hand off her, realizing he had grabbed her wounded arm, and hurried to his feet. His arm shot around her waist. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She rested her forehead on his chest, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the sharp pain piercing her arm.

  “Raven,” he said softly, gently rubbing her back while keeping his other arm around her waist. “Are you all right? Should I send for Greta?”

  Raven raised her head, a wince on her face. “No, but we should go see her to be sure you didn’t disturb the wound.”

  “Is this a ruse to get your way?” he asked, but seeing the pain in her eyes he didn’t believe so, though he didn’t doubt she’d used it to her advantage.

  “No, husband, it’s an opportunity I intend to take advantage of.”

  Lars let loose with a loud laugh. “I really like your wife.” He waved them off. “Go. I intend to sit here and enjoy the food and drink and the heat of the fire.”

  Wolf grabbed a fur off the pile near the door and draped it over his wife’s cloak, bringing it snug around her shoulders before opening the door. He wasn’t surprised to see a light snow falling, though it had yet to cover the ground.

  “Eria is a gentle woman and could use another friend,” Wolf said as they walked.

  “Warning me to watch my tongue and be nice to the woman you love?” She bit her tongue too late. Why should she care if he loved Eria? Or that she was again seeking an answer to that question. And yet for some unexplainable reason she wanted to know if he did love the woman.

  His thought was the same as hers. “Why should you care if I love Eria?”

  It slipped out then, and damn if she could make sense of it. “Because I will not suffer a cheating husband. You dally with Eria and I’ll find a man of my own to poke.”

  Wolf stopped and grabbed her arm, making sure it wasn’t the wounded one. “Don’t ever dare threaten me with that. I’ll have no wife of mine seek another man’s bed. I’m the only one you’ll have slip between your legs.”

  “And I’ll have no husband of mine dip his shaft into anyone but me,” she said, jabbing him in the chest.

  Wolf brought his face near hers. “Since you honor your word, make sure you remember that and you don’t deny me when I want to dip my shaft in you.”

  Raven yanked her arm free, though she knew he let her go, his grip far too strong for her to free herself if he chose otherwise. “You’ll be lucky if you can keep me satisfied.”

  Anger caught him unware, his response sharp. “How many men did it take to do that?”

  Raven felt the slap though he never raised his hand and that she allowed it to sting her, upset her even more. She tossed her chin up. “None as I’ve repeatedly told you. But that doesn’t mean I’ve never craved a man and I doubt you have the stamina and skill to satisfy all that pent up craving.” She turned and walked away from him annoyed at the ache in her heart, but pleased at the tic in the corner of his eye.

  His wife was beyond frustrating and he cursed himself for losing his temper, which he did far too often around her. But damn if her quick barbs didn’t leave a mark.

  He shook his head, mumbling beneath his breath as he hurried after her, and his anger rumbled at the thought of her ever being with another man.

  Raven stopped when she spotted Eria. She stood talking with Greta, Fyn, and George. One look told Raven everything. Eria was everything she wasn’t. She was petite with pale blonde hair and an angelical face that could easily steal a man’s heart. She wore a pleasant smile and from the adoring smiles on Fyn and George’s faces, she spoke sweetly. The little lad Tait was even enthralled by her, staring up at her with a smile, from where he stood next to Fyn.

  Eria turned then and her face lit with joy and Raven knew the loving smile wasn’t meant for her. Eria took off in a run and ran right past her into Wolf’s a
rms.

  Raven felt an unusual jolt to her chest. Why should it matter to her if the woman hugged her husband and that he returned the hug, lifting the petite woman off the ground? Eria obviously cared for Wolf, while she didn’t care what happened to him. He’d been her enemy for the last five years, but now he was her husband and that changed things. Her brothers were happy with their wives and even her father had found happiness with Wren. What was done was done. Did she want to continue living with her husband as a foe or should she at least try to establish a friendship with him? Otherwise what would life be like for her?

  You have two choices. You make the best of what you’ve got or you strive for something better. That’s what the old man had taught her. Raven recalled asking him what you did when life delivered a severe blow. He’d told her you recover the best you can, though not always in the way you’d like, and you get your revenge by living life fully in spite of it all.

  Did she make the best of the husband she got? And hadn’t she enjoyed his kiss and wouldn’t mind kissing him again? And what about sharing a bed with him. He did keep her warm.

  “Eria, this is my wife, Raven,” Wolf said, yanking Raven out of her musings as he walked with Eria to his wife.

  Eria stepped forward once they got close. “I’m so pleased to meet you and so grateful that you allowed me to come here.”

  Raven didn’t mind her tongue. “You puzzle me. How can you be pleasant to the woman who robbed you of the man you love and were to wed?”

  “Raven!” Wolf warned with a sharp tongue.

  “It’s all right, Wolf,” Eria said softly. “I can understand how Raven must feel.” She turned to Raven. “Wolf makes whatever sacrifice he must for the benefit of his tribe as you did to benefit your family. And though he will not be my husband as planned, he still continues to protect me, see me kept safe, as he does for you, and for that I am grateful. And I am relieved you do not object to that or me being here.”

  “I don’t need Wolf to keep me safe. I can do that myself. And as for you being here, I have no objections, but a warning,”—Raven stepped close to her— “attempt to poke my husband and I’ll take a knife to you.”