Page 11 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

With a heavy sigh, Alaric stood and stretched, finding that his entire body still ached. It would be a long road to recovery, heknew, but at least he had gotten enough rest, even after the incident with Lucia, to continue on their journey.

He would not be going home, no matter how much he missed it. It had been a long time since he had been sent to his mission and just when he thought he would have the chance to return, all his hopes were crushed. How long was this going to take, he wondered? Lucia had told him to inform his brother he would be gone for quite a while, but Alaric didn’t know if that meant weeks or even months.

Did he have months to spare? Sooner or later, everyone would expect him home for his wedding. How long could he avoid that? When would the Sinclair Clan decide they had had enough and demand an explanation for his absence?

The sound of the door opening pulled Alaric out of his thoughts and he turned to see Lucia, all dressed and ready for the day. She stared at him for a moment, taking in his state of undress with a sour look on her face, before she stepped into the room.

“We should be on our way,” she said. “It’s already late. We should have left at dawn.”

“Why didnae ye wake me?” Alaric asked. If Lucia was so bothered by it, she should have, he figured, rather than blaming him now.

Lucia didn’t even spare him a look as she gathered her belongings. “I tried,” she said. “Ye were sleepin’ like a dead man.”

Alaric very much doubted that, especially since he had woken up when Lucia had leaned over him. He wasn’t so injured as to be sleeping so heavily, and he had never been a heavy sleeper in the first place. One couldn’t be, not when one had to keep one eye open at all times in case an enemy showed.

Still, he said nothing as he pulled on his tunic, tugging furiously at the fabric. The last thing he needed was a fight with Lucia when he hadn’t even broken his fast yet, and so he remained silent, grabbing his own things before the two of them headed down the stairs.

Predictably, Lucia dragged him away from the tables and to the door before Alaric could protest that he couldn’t ride on an empty stomach. When they got to the horse, though, and Lucia began to prepare the creature for the journey, his hunger made itself known with a rumble of his stomach.

Glancing at him over her shoulder, Lucia reached into her bag and brought out an apple and a bannock, handing both to him.

“Is this meant tae be enough?” Alaric asked, even as he bit into the apple, too hungry to make any more elaborate complaints.

“It’ll have tae dae fer now,” said Lucia. “We should reach the Ravencloaks by dusk, so I must keep some o’ the food from ye until then.”

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Alaric began to pace around her, restless. “How dae ye even ken where tae findthem?” he asked. “It isnae as though they tell everyone their location.”

“I’ve been plannin’ this fer a while,” said Lucia, tightening the straps of the saddle. “I have observed them an’ their ways. I ken where tae find them.”

That shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, Alaric thought. Lucia was a woman with a plan, that much was clear, and she was skilled enough to observe the Ravencloaks without being caught. He couldn’t help but think she would have made a great scout under different circumstances—a great warrior, even, seeing as she could fight better than some of the men he had trained.

Hopping onto the saddle, Lucia gestured at Alaric to join her, which he did once he was finished with the last bite of the apple, tossing the core aside. It wasn’t the first time he had been on the horse behind her, but it may as well have been. When they had ridden to the inn, Alaric had been barely conscious, the pain and dizziness making it impossible to feel or think about anything else. Now, though, he was entirely aware of how close Lucia was—his chest plastered against her back, his hands holding onto her waist, wisps of her dark hair flying into his face with the wind. She smelled of lavender and citrus, and under that, a scent that was uniquely hers, and Alaric had a hard time controlling himself when all he wanted to do was bury his face in her neck and press his lips to her skin.

This was going to be a problem—a problem he could not afford. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted even for a moment, iffor nothing else, then for the simple fact that distraction could mean death once they were near the Ravencloaks. He had to keep his wits about him. This was not the first beautiful woman he had encountered, nor would she be the last.

She may be the first an’ last who acts like this, though.

On the one hand, that was a blessing. Alaric didn’t know how many women like Lucia he could handle. On the other, it meant that he had no experience with women like her and so when it mattered the most, he didn’t know how to act.

The only thing that helped with his conundrum was the passage of time. As they rode down the path, the wind whipping their faces, Alaric’s eyes stinging with it, he became more and more comfortable with his position on the saddle right behind Lucia. He would have much rather been the one guiding the horse, but she was a skilled rider, much like she was a skilled fighter, and Alaric eventually found himself relaxing, taking the opportunity to enjoy some of the lush scenery.

A green valley stretched below them, right under the hill they had climbed. In the dying light of the day, it looked as though it was bathed in gold, the trees and the grass in the valley swaying with the wind. Alaric would never get used to such a sight, no matter how many times he had seen the likes of it in his travels. Every part of the land was different, every hill and valley holding its own beauty, and so it all took Alaric’s breath away like it was the first time.

“We’re gettin’ close.”

It had been hours since they had left the inn, and by then the sun was already setting in the horizon. Alaric had almost managed to forget what they were doing, where they were going, until Lucia spoke those words, pulling him out of his trance.

“Are they in these parts?” he asked.

“They are right over there,” said Lucia, pointing at a deep part of the woods they were overlooking from their hill. “They have more places around here, but that should be one o’ their camps.”

Alaric looked at what little he could see from their vantage point. There seemed to be a clearing indeed, deep in those woods, and Alaric could see wisps of smoke as they travelled up the air—a definitive sign of a camp where people still dwelled.

“Alright,” he said. “We should sleep here fer the night an’ then?—”

“We will attack tonight.”

“Attack?” Alaric asked, suddenly alarmed. Lucia had said nothing about an attack, certainly not one as careless and, frankly, foolish as the one she planned. “What dae ye mean attack? There are only two o’ us. How will we fight the entire camp? Didnae ye say ye wish tae infiltrate their ranks? Has the plan changed?”

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