Page 56 of Wulver's Flame
Sköll snarled from the corner of my soul, pacing in the dark.
The man who sold her like coin for peace, yet she still felt loyal to the man.
Ruaidrí’s gaze broke from her and met mine.
“Ruaidrí. An unexpected surprise,” I said tightly, offering a slight nod.“Welcome to our home.”
“I heard Liùsaidh was touched by sickness,” he said, turning to her with a softening expression.
He brushed a hand from the crown of her head to her shoulder. Sköll snickered.
My lips twitched. He had just touched the remnants of my seed-surge.
Liùsaidh’s cheeks turned crimson, and she quickly caught his hand, halting him before he could pet her again.
“As you can see, I’m fine, Da. It was just a wee fever.” She forced a smile.“How did you even hear I was ill?”
A good question.
Ruaidrí’s eyes met mine again. Harder this time.
“It seems gossip travels faster than truth,” he murmured before he turned back to Liùsaidh.
He gave her a bear hug. She hesitated for a moment before she buried her face in his cloak. Her eyes closed, and she held him tight.
“Och, ma wee lassie, ma hame isnae the same wi’oot yae causing a ruckus,” he whispered in a low and thick voice.
It struck me why the old man wanted Liùsaidh to be married to a man from Dunraith. He sought to keep her close.
I glanced at his men. There he was. Fergus. The pathetic excuse for a man who once touched what’s mine.
If I weren’t holding my tongue for her sake, I’d drag him through the mud by that smug little braid, slice open his chest and feast while he watched his heart stop. Let him see what it means to take a wolf’s mate in vain.
He didn’t deserve to speak her name, let alone look at her with those sheepish, shame-stained eyes.
And yet he looked. Gods, he looked. At her mouth. At her hair. At her belly.
He looked at my seed. At my pup.
The restraint it took not to draw my blade and paint the ground red with his guts.
Sköll’s fury joined mine, and there was no stopping his voice.
Let me kill him.
I’ll tear the flesh from his throat and shove it down his gullet. I’ll string his entrails between the trees like ribbons. I’ll gouge his eyes and fuck the sockets with my claws until he sees nothing but our rage.
He dared to want our mate.
I blinked at Sköll’s words. It was the most he’d spoken for at least ten winters.
The pissdribble turned his face away.
Good.
I focused on what Ruaidrí was saying, talking about gifts and herbs from her mother's garden. Although I couldn't understand some of his words, I felt Liùsaidh’s resentment of her father lessen.
The pup peered at me while clutching Liùsaidh’s dress, but he hid his face when I tried to smile at him. I towered over Liùsaidh, and he was much smaller.
