Page 66 of Wolf Pack

She supposed she was a little anxious that his people would be shocked and unhappy with the idea that she had mated him. Mating as wolf shifters amounted to being bound to each other forever. Elene had told her that marrying a Highlander only required both their consents, no witnesses needed, so they were lawfully married as well.

“What do we do about the living arrangements?” she asked Alasdair, running her hand over his bare chest, her cheek resting against it.

“I’ve considered the situation, and I believe we should let it be up to your cousins. Agnes and Dawy will abide by any decision they make. Of course, the MacEachens would like to keep the rest of your family at the croft, but it’s ultimately your kin’s decision. You know I will want you at the castle from now on.”

“Guarding it.”

“Guarding me.” He kissed her. “As I will guard you. The crofters have never had any trouble before. If they ever believe they will, they will turn into their wolves and escape to the castle. I have watched Conall fighting with the others in practice combat when he is not building the wall.”

“That is good.”

“He is a formidable opponent, despite his youth. He will help Dawy if he ever has difficulties with encroaching neighbors.” Alasdair ran his hand over her belly.

“Aye. We teach all children how to fight. Even Libby will fight like I did.” She sighed.

Alasdair nodded. She was glad he didn’t see anything wrong with the women fighting. She would teach his women to fight, too, if he desired it.

“And this eve?” she asked.

“’Tis late. I need to get back to the keep before my brothers send a rescue force. I wish to take you with me, though.”

She wanted to go with Alasdair in the worst way tonight, but she felt she had to discuss this matter with her cousins before she just abandoned them. And she didn’t want to wake the wee ones or disturb Agnes’s and Dawy’s sleep this eve as late as it was.

“I will stay the night at the croft and discuss this in the morn with my kin and Dawy and Agnes and see what everyone wants to do. But on the morrow, I’ll stay with you no matter what my cousins agree to do as far as living arrangements go.”

“All right. I understand.” He kissed her again, and then he said, “Wait here. I’ll gather our clothes.”

She waited for a few minutes, listening to Alasdair as he moved through the bracken, but then she heard a startled gasp and a thud and her heart pounded in overdrive.

18

Isobel shifted into her wolf and ran through the bracken, hoping she would find nothing was the matter but afraid she would locate her mate sprawled out on the beach where she and he had left their clothes, and he was dead.

That was just what she discovered—Alasdair was lying on the beach, his head bloodied—not dead, she prayed. Her heart practically stopped.Gods!Before she could reach Alasdair, she saw three men headed for the croft, their backs to her.

She was so angry that she could kill every one of the men. But she had to warn her family and the crofters of danger and then take care of Alasdair. She dashed back into the bracken and howled to wake Dawy, Agnes, and her family. And she howled to warn Alasdair’s pack that they were in danger.

To her surprise, the men headed toward the house stopped, and all three of them turned to peer at the bracken before she came out to help Alasdair and protect him.

One of the men called out, “Inge?”

She peered out of the bracken, recognizing the deep voice, though it was much deeper than what she had remembered. That’s when she recognized a scent drifting on the breeze—itwas her twin brother’s scent, but he’d been lost at sea. Only her family and Elene knew her name was Inge from Iceland.

“It is me, Leif,” he called out.

She left the bracken but heard wolves howl in the distance.

“What are you doing here?” Leif asked. “I thought you were a slave of these people.”

She couldn’t believe she was seeing her twin brother. During a violent storm, while she and her parents and brother were sailing with a crew, he had been washed overboard, and they’d never found him. He…he was alive. She stared at the man he had become, blond, tall, muscular, the other men darker haired, just as tall and muscular, Scotsmen, she thought.

“Who is she?” one of the men with him asked.

“My sister.”

Dawy threw the door to the croft open. He and Conall charged forth with swords in hand, ready to kill their foe, though Dawy was limping, and she thought any of the three men could easily knock him on his backside.

She shifted and threw on her chemise. “He is my brother, your cousin, Conall.” Then she ran to take care of Alasdair. He was coming to and a modicum of relief washed over her. “Alasdair is my mate.”

---