She pulled up the hem of her chemise, looking up at her grandmother. “I thought you wanted us to be together?”
“I wanted you to give the poor boy a chance. He’d been sweet on you since you were too young to understand what that meant. But after you pushed him in the creek for trying to kiss you, I knew there was someone else meant for you.”
“How could you know that?” She hardly understood it herself. She recalled many nights she’d spent in this room, wishing she could be interested in Hunter, wishing she could be happy with him, afraid there would never be anything else in life for her. What made her happy—a tortured, wounded man like Wolf—the thought had never occurred to her.
Her grandmother cupped her cheek, smiling affectionately at Abigail. “I know everything about you, Red. I know you have no interest in Hunter, just as I know how much you love the man out there.” She waved towards the bedroom door, then shifted over, sitting down on the bed next to Abigail. A large grin spread across Abigail’s face at the mere mention of Wolf. A sudden warmth grew beneath her breast bone, accompanied by peace and calm.
“You’re just like your mother in that way.” She grabbed Abigail’s hand from off the bed and clasping it within her own.
They rarely spoke of her parents. It was a difficult topic for both of them. Abigail had so many questions but she’d never mustered the courage to ask them. She recollected only a few scattered details about her parents—the exact pitch of her father’s loud, merry laugh and the feel of her mother’s soft hair brushing her face. Her mother had always smelt sweet, like cookies, and her father was never without a smile. She preferred those memories to her last ones, filled with heat, the smell of smoke burning away their home and clogging her throat.
“Your father might not have been the man I’d have picked for my daughter. Bear was such a large man. It frightened your poor grandfather to death the first time Bear arrived with his daughter in tow. But he was one of the sweetest, most giving men I’ve ever met. And the most devoted father. He loved you deeply, Red, you and your mother. I know they would be sorry to miss this.” Her grandmother smoothed a lock of hair back from Abigail’s face, tucking it gingerly behind her ear. “They’d have been so pleased to see their baby fall in love, get married, and have children of her own.”
Abigail’s eyes dropped from her grandmother to the bed between them, unable to meet her gaze. Of course her grandmother wasn’t upset by what she’d seen—she assumed they were getting married. Her grandmother believed she and Wolf would be as happy and committed as her parents had been. But Wolf had made no such declaration.
He’d stated she was his, had professed he wanted to tie her to him, to always be able to demand of her, but he’d never made any direct mention of marriage. He didn’t speak of the future. In the time they’d been together, he’d only seemed interested in one type of claiming.
Abigail bit down on her bottom lip. She wouldn’t push Wolf. He had a stronger will than most and wouldn’t be badgered into anything. And she didn’t want to force him into loving her.
The soft squeak of a hinge moaned from the other room, followed by a loud slam. Abigail tried to breathe but couldn’t seem to grasp enough oxygen as her mind swirled. She flew to the door a step ahead of her grandmother. Holding the knob so tightly it creaked beneath her grip, she turned it quickly, yanking the door back, afraid of what would meet her on the other side.
Stamping into the room, she swivelled her head over and back so quickly she feared she might do permanent damage to her neck. But she needed to keep looking. There had to be some hidden space she’d missed, a figure lurking in the corners just beyond her sight, concealed in the shadows.
Her grandmother placed her hand on her shoulder. Her breathing and the shift of her clothing as she embraced Abigail were the only sounds in the room.
Wolf was gone.
Chapter Nine
“Don’t worry, Red. I’m sure he’ll be back.” Her grandmother rubbed her hand along Abigail’s arm, offering her comfort. She looked down at her tenderly, a hopeful smile covering her lips.
She wasn’t as sure. With her grandmother now home, he could leave her, without guilt. Unaware he was taking her heart with him.
“It’s typical.” Her grandmother huffed.
“What is, Grandmother?”
“It would be just like a MacTíre to leave without a goodbye.” Her grandmother almost spoke to herself but Abigail pulled back to stare up at her.
“What did you say, Grandmother?”
“Oh, nothing. Your Wolf just reminds me of the MacTíres.”
“MacTíre, as in King MacTíre?” She took a deep breath, her head swimming. Her grandmother believed Wolf was related to the king.
“Yes. It’s those eyes. Those golden eyes are distinctive to the family. Before you were born, your grandfather used to train horses for the royals. We got to know the whole family during his many visits, but I don’t remember Wolf. He might be an illegitimate child. Lord knows, there were a lot of those.” Her grandmother chuckled a little to herself.
Abigail looked to the door separating their home from the rest of the world, the pieces of his puzzle sliding into place.
“Didn’t one of the illegitimate brothers try to take over the monarchy?” She took a short step to the table, gripping the edge to calm the shaking in her fingers. Her Wolf was royalty. All the implications of what that could mean slammed into her head at the same time.
“Yes,” her grandmother continued, unaware of her distress. “A few years ago. He claimed he could no longer watch the kingdom’s people suffer.”
Abigail turned back to look at her grandmother, surprised. “I thought it had just been a play for power.” She couldn’t believe Wolf would be interested in a mere coup. He didn’t need to take others’ power to rule. Authority and command oozed from his every pore.
“It probably was, but he claimed he saw the pain of the people better than his legitimate siblings. He tried to storm the castle and take back the monarchy, claiming he was going to give it back to the people when he was successful. But who knows if he really would have, or just taken all the power for himself.”
If Wolf had made a promise, he would have followed through. He thought everything through. He’d kept every promise he’d ever made to her.
Her grandmother walked across the room to the table, sitting down on the bench beside it, and Abigail followed after, desperate to hear more. “But, of course, he wasn’t successful. His rebellion failed against his brother’s army. And they say that afterwards they killed him, along with his whole family, to spread a message that such rebellion would not be tolerated. It’s probably just another lie, told to keep the king in power.”
She nodded. It was a lie, but the king probably didn’t even know. He probably believed he had killed his brother. The truth of the tale hit her like an axe through the heart. This was her Wolf, who’d risked his own family to help many. The story only made her love him more.
He’d lost everything. He stood completely alone in the world. Except for her. She’d found her heart with Wolf, and everything she’d ever wanted. She had no plans to just let him walk away.
Wolf wandered up the dirt path, his feet crunching the hard-packed earth. A cool breeze filled the forest, pushing the hair back from his face and filling his noise with the smells of earth and pine. He turned from the defined road, slipping off the dirt way into the tall weeds of the forest floor. He counted his steps methodically, touching the trunk of each tree as he walked past it.
He breathed a deep sigh. He knew it couldn’t stay the same. He couldn’t keep Abigail to himself forever, a constant devotee to his needs. Life had taught him that change happened often, and with little warning.
He was glad Abigail’s family was restored. That her grandmother truly loved her, and was devoted to her, as she deserved. Abigail was happy to have her back. Happier than he could ever make her alone.
He slumped down on a familiar flat rock, the
hard surface cold and damp beneath his rump. Somewhere in the forest a single wolf howled, the sound echoing his own emotions. He’d never planned to come back here. He’d never believed he would reappear, let alone with an even stronger burn in his heart and a new desperation eating him alive. But he’d never imagined he’d meet anyone like Abigail.
He kicked at a pile of rocks, stacked to the right of the boulder. He dislodged three of the large stones with his boot as his gaze drifted out to the forest.
How ridiculous. He’d only left the cabin moments ago, but he already wished to be with her again. He wanted to pull her warm body into his, to smell the sweetness of her hair. But in the end she’d be happy he’d left. He’d be giving her exactly what she deserved. Still, he’d rather be with her than perched upon this frigid rock in the orange-draped late afternoon forest.
“Wolf.” His name floated along the breeze, as if from a dream. What has become of me? He missed her so much he thought he heard her voice in the air. It was only the whistle of the wind whipping through the autumn branches. But all he heard was Abigail.
“Wolf.” The sound was closer, the same soft decibel Abigail’s held.
“Wolf,” the voice called again, accompanied by the swish of leaves and weeds beneath frantic feet. Curses floated along the breeze. The same words he’d taught her as he released them while pushed deep within her body, swirling in her sweet tone.
“Abigail?” He hoped in equal parts it was her trudging through the forest towards him, and that she was safely back in the cabin welcoming her grandmother home. He missed her but hated the idea of her walking the path on her own.
The footsteps sped up. The bright red of her still-damaged cloak peeked between the trees. The branches crackled, breaking as she pushed her way through the forest. She raced towards him. Her sunset tresses streamed from her hood, whipping in the wind.
Anger puffed his chest. He wanted to shake Abigail so hard her teeth rattled. Damn woman was determined to be reckless at all costs, trampling into the woods alone. Didn’t she know what sort of wild creatures she could meet among the trees?
She stopped inches from his stiff frame. She didn’t throw herself into his arms, where he wanted her to be. Instead, she remained separated, her body shaking.
“You shouldn’t have walked off the path! Do you have any idea of the danger you might have been in?” Wolf shouted, too angry to hear the irony in his words.
“I had to. For you.” She looked up at him, her large amber eyes shining like tear-filled ponds. Her lips quivered, the edges curling down into a frown.
He wanted to roar at the sight. It would be the second time she had broken into tears in front of him. He hated tears, especially on Abigail.
“Why did you leave?” She hiccupped around her words.
He looked up in surprise, a chill racing from his insides out. She thought he’d left. Did she really think him so unfeeling? He could never do that to her. He would never be so callous as to just walk out of her life without a word. Not after everything she’d given up for him. She deserved better than that.
Abigail sniffled, fighting back her tears with the same determination and pride as she’d fought him. She was stronger than she realised, stronger than even he’d first seen. “I know my grandmother returning changes things, but not so much that I don’t want you. Not so much that I can bear for you to leave. You’re my whole heart, Wolf. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll do whatever you need me to for you to stay. I’ll give you anything—”
He held up his hand to stop her words. The ragged edge of her statements ripped at his heart. “I didn’t leave.” His words were stilted by shock and confusion.
Abigail blinked up at him, her eyes still filled with liquid, but the sadness lessening. Her gaze roamed each of his features, her expression sceptical.
“If you didn’t leave, why did you come out here?” she asked, trying to suppress the hopeful glimmer in her voice. But he wasn’t easily fooled, especially not by this woman. Above all others, he knew Abigail, as no other ever could. She’d never be able to hide from him.
Wolf bent, pushing away the remaining rocks, dislodging their careful mound. The last few blocks were the heaviest, as he’d intentionally structured the pyramid to protect the prize hidden within. Beneath the stone, he used his hands to claw at the dirt, digging only a few short inches before his fingers made contact with the smooth texture of a leather pouch.
“I came to get this.” He pulled the pouch from its grave for the curious eyes of the woman before him.
Abigail remained silent beside him. He grabbed her hand, twisted within the lengths of her scarlet cloak. He wanted to reach farther into those tempting yards, to find other treasures hidden within, but stilled himself. There would be plenty of time for that later. Now he needed to reassure her.
He extended her arm, palm up, as he upturned the small pouch into her grip. A small, square-cut ruby, inlaid upon a gold band, dropped from the bag to lay flat upon her palm. It wasn’t much compared to what others had, but it was all he’d ever received from his father. Given to him on the day he’d reached manhood and his father had thrown him from his home, into the world to fend for himself.
Abigail’s gaze flicked to his. Her stare wasn’t focused upon the jewel in her hand, but on the man who’d given it to her.
“But I thought…”
“I told you I wanted to make you mine.” He curved his hand around her cheek, unable to stop himself from touching her. “Did you think I lied?”
“I don’t know,” Abigail responded shakily as he brushed his thumb across the seam of her lips. “I thought it might be different now.” There was a subtle shiver to her words he couldn’t place.
“Why? Because your grandmother’s home? We always knew she’d return when she’d completed her errand.”
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, almost under her breath, but still loud enough for him to pick up in the almost-silent forest. “You’re royalty.”
He stepped forward, grasping her face between his hands, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Nay. You’re so good and pure, Abigail. You bring out a better man in me. A gentler one. It’s me that doesn’t deserve you. But I can’t force myself to walk away.”
“You plan to stay with me?”
He bent down to place a short kiss on her lips. Not nearly enough to satisfy him, but he kept the touch brief to show her he could control himself. She could trust him, with every part of her. “Yes. There isn’t anywhere in the kingdom I’d rather be.”
Abigail smiled at him, her entire face glowing with joy. He coasted his fingers down her neck. She shivered beneath his touch and he hardened in response.
“And this is…?” she asked huskily, pushing her palm upwards, highlighting the new jewellery. Her eyes darkened as she stared up at him.
God, how he wanted her. Every day. For the rest of his life.
“It’s to show everyone you’re mine.” He plucked the band from her palm, pulling her hand forward to slide the cool metal along her finger.
Once it was seated against her skin, he looked up at her, noting the liquid sheen of her eyes. Surely she wasn’t going to cry again. If he planned to spend the rest of his life with her, he’d have to find a way to keep this woman from crying, even if it meant never leaving her sight again.
She looked down at her hand for a moment before returning her gaze to him. She breathed deeply, releasing the puff against his skin. The moisture evaporated from her eyes, replaced by a wicked glow.
“But how will everyone know you’re mine? I don’t have a ring for you.”
He swallowed as the seductress within her was revealed beneath his gaze. “I’ll remember. That will be enough.”
She pouted slightly. Wolf clenched his jaw, fighting back the yearning to reach out and nip the soft flesh. Her soft palms caressed up and down his chest. “What if you forget?”
He almost roared at the invitation in her eyes. She pressed into hi
m, her breasts brushing him until he couldn’t think of anything but her. Not the forest, the setting sun, or the dropping temperature. “You’ll have to find a way to remind me.”
“And how can I do that?” she asked as her hands quested down his body, smoothing over the tight muscles of his abdomen, circling his hips.
“I can think of a few ways.”
He clasped her forearms, pulling her into him. He found her lips with ease, his tongue plundering her sweet mouth. Her soft body moulded into his. She wrapped her arms around him, tugging him closer. She moaned beneath him and Wolf hardened further, almost painfully, against her belly.
He stepped forward, pushing her back against a nearby tree. She let out a soft shriek, her hold tightening around him like a vice. The rough bark rubbed his hands and arms wherever they came in contact with the trunk, his embrace still twisted around her warm body. He shifted his weight against the sturdy maple for support, pinning her between him and the tree. The graze of the cold, golden ring on her finger brushed his flesh.
He pulled back and a soft, complaining whimper whispered from her throat. Her eyes popped open. Her lips were swollen and full from his kisses, her taste still tempting his tongue.
He skimmed his hands down her thick scarlet cloak, caressing into the folds of her skirt. Gripping the fabric, he slowly eased it up thighs. The cool evening breeze wafted against them, his hair tickling against his neck.
Wolf blew along the column of her neck, adding his own warm, moist breeze to that supplied by the thick forest. Abigail flinched at the unexpected gust.
His chest tightened in increments, his heart bounding at her reaction. How he loved it when she fought. Almost as much as when she finally submitted. Her body stiffened. Every muscle locked down in battle against her rising desire. But he had far stronger weapons to fight such need with.
He continued his seductive gusts across her skin, blowing warm drafts across her nipples until they pebbled. A conflicted moan escaped her lips. He worked his way down between her breasts. Along the muscles of her stomach, and the delicate curve between her hipbones.
Wandering Off the Path Page 9
