One of his men and father of one of those dead raced to the body of his son and cried.
“Who did this?” was a common question passed around the pack.
“I remember those three from the wandering pack attacking us,” one of his men said.
“Aye, Aedan and the Alpha along with the older one,” another agreed.
“I remember they fought with us,” someone said.
“They must have killed them!” another shouted.
“Then we kill them!”
Gregor did not like where it was going. The pack mentality was such, when one had an idea they all agreed.
“Show them who we really are!”
“How dare they come into our lands and kill our males!”
“Kill them!”
“Tear them apart!”
“Take their women!”
“Nay! Kill their women they could be carrying their bastards!”
“Aye!”
“Enough!” Gregor bellowed. His pack went silent. “Listen to yourselves. We have just lost two of our own and you want to kill more?”
“They are no’ ours!”
“They must pay for what they have done!”
“So you want to take their women?” Gregor demanded. “You want to kill innocent women and children simply because they are here?”
“How do we ken they are innocent?”
“My brother was innocent!” one of them shouted near the other dead man.
“Look down at your own hands, my brothers,” Gregor stated calmly. “Look down at your own bodies. If nae one sees any blood on them then we can go.”
“What are you saying, Alpha?”
“I am your Chief when in human form,” Gregor corrected. “The moon will release its hold on us only when we release our hold on it. Think. Do you honestly think there are nae other options?”
“I am clean, chief,” one man shouted.
“Aye, as am I,” another said.
“Are you saying you suspect one of us?”
“Our brothers were killed, aye,” Gregor said. “But I will nae condone a witch hunt when there are other possibilities.”
“Like what?” the father of one of the dead men asked.
“Why do we all phase away from each other? Why do we all seek solitude until the sun rises?” Gregor asked. “We all ken what it is like. Any one of us could be guilty of this.”
“Chief,” a voice called. “I have blood on me.”
Everyone went silent and turned. Jakob Sutherland, a man about Gregor’s age and his dearest friend since childhood stepped forward. True to his admission, Jakob was covered in dried red blood from mouth to mid-chest. He walked toward his best friend and knelt before the body of one of the men.
“’Twas me, Chief,” he stated. “I killed Hamish.” Looking up at Hamish’s father his eyes pleaded. “He came upon me in the dark while I was phasing. He was already in wolf form. We fought. I… forgive me. I donnae deserve your forgiveness.”
Gregor closed his eyes. Jakob had a new babe and was practically a brother to him. The weight of his judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. If he easily forgave him others would expect that too and if he did not and met out his punishment he would be punishing himself.
“I ken what you must do, Chief,” he whispered. Their eyes met and he read Jakob’s acceptance in their depths. “I just ask you do so here and no’ in front of my Mari.”
“Chief,” Hamish’s father stepped forward. Gregor looked at him. “My Hamish was a rash man. I am in under nae delusion what young Jakob said is true. I will mourn my son but I will nae mourn more men than we have lost today. Jakob is a good man. I say we judge what he has done in human form; this act of coming forward and taking ownership of my lad’s death, no’ the rash decisions he made while in an animal-like state. We all have been there. We ken the type of feral conditions that come with phasing. I say we take our lads home and speak nae more on what happened here.”
Gregor was silent for a moment weighing what the older man said.
“And what about my brother?” one of his warriors said from beside the other body. “Did Jakob kill him?”
Gregor looked back at Jakob who shook his head.
“I would remember that,” he stated.
“Who killed our brother?” Gregor shouted over the pack. Each man looked from one to the other when no one spoke up the brother of the man who was slain shouted.
“It was those guests,” he said the word with such disgust everyone slowly nodded their head.
“We have nae proof,” Gregor reasoned.
“We need nae proof,” he answered.
“I will speak with them,” he promised. “Let us clean up and head home.”
“Speaking with them?” the man’s brother shouted. “What good will that do, Chief? My brother is dead!”
“Aye and we all share in your grief,” Gregor stated placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “But I will nae have us acting on revenge without the needed proof. Now gather our fallen brethren and let us head back to the keep.”
Chapter
Twenty
Eithne healed Aedan’s deep cut on his arm and abdomen early that morning as Isla, being with child could not use that much energy. Aedan stayed within his room when the herald announced the Chief’s return and his desire to speak with them. Locking eyes with his father, Aedan knew what they would speak of. The three men approached the Chief’s study and knocked. Hearing a deep voice calling for them to enter, Tristan opened the door.
“You desired to speak with us, Chief?” Tristan asked.
“Aye, come in, shut the door,” Gregor ordered. They obeyed, giving him what he wanted. “Last eve was a full moon, I ken you were there, I remember it. I suppose I should have told you what I was, what my men were, but ’tis a harshly guarded secret and no’ just mine to keep. Besides that, I ken you saw your sister in my arms and I wish to tell you that I am heartily sorry for taking such a liberty with her. That being said, I ask you to tell me truthfully, did you kill one of my men?”
Tristan was silent for a moment but turned to Aedan and nodded once.
“Aye, chief,” Aedan replied. “His death is on my hands.”
“May I ask the circumstances that surrounded his death?” Gregor asked.
“He followed me when I was trying to get Loeiza to safety. He was chasing after her. I confronted him and we fought. Loeiza escaped. I received deep cuts from his claws to my arm and abdomen.”
“May I see these cuts?” Gregor asked.
“As you ken, chief, two of our women are druids,” Tristan spoke up. “One healed him but you can see the fading scars.” Aedan raised his tunic to show the jagged scar on his abdomen and raised his sleeve to show the other.
“And Loeiza is safe?” Gregor asked.
“Aye my sister is well guarded by my brothers,” Tristan answered.
“’Tis glad I am to hear it,” Gregor stalked to the window and gazed out. It was a long time before he spoke again. “My men will require justice for our fallen brother. As you are my guest, I will do what I can but they are thirsty for blood revenge.”
“My son was acting in defense and the protection of one of our own,” Weylyn began. “If anyone needs justice for his killing a man who would have killed a wee lass then your men have more wrong with them than shifting with the moon.”
Gregor nodded slowly. “Perhaps we can come to some sort of truce then,” Gregor said.
“What are your terms, Chief?” Tristan asked.
“Your sister,” he stated. “I require Loeiza to be my wife.”
“She is a lass and I will nae have her betrothed to a man who cannae control his shifting,” Tristan shot to his feet.
“Shifting is well taken care of so long as the moon does nae change its pattern,” Gregor said. “I care for her a great deal. And I do believe she cares for me.”
“Caring is all well and good but we are wolves, we have our mates and she has nae found he
rs yet nor will she be able to until she reaches her seventieth year which is no’ for some time,” Tristan replied. “You are nearing your thirty-fifth summer or at least you look it. You will be an old man by the time she is ready to wed and I will nae allow her to be in a loveless marriage.”
“Tell them, Gregor,” Loeiza’s voice from the doorway drew their attention.
“Sister? What is the meaning of this?” Tristan demanded.
“I asked for her to come,” Gregor replied.
“You must tell them,” she said. He reached for her and she hastened to take his hand. Pulling her to his side, he turned back to Tristan.
“I am descended from a druid bitten by a wolf during the winter solstice,” Gregor began. “I will leave it to your druids to explain what that means but as such I am granted with long life or immortality. When I reached the age of consent, I was given a choice. I chose immortality. I have walked this earth nearly ninety years.”
“How is that possible?” Tristan demanded. “My wife told me the tale that your mother told the females last eve. She said her grandfather fought my father nearly seventy years ago.”
“Aye,” Gregor answered. “She was but a babe when I left.”
“How?” Aedan breathed.
“Our women are nae wolves, they do nae have immortality,” he stated. “They have grown into adulthood kenning that when the men introduce them as something to pretend that is what they are. My granddaughter is nae exception to that. She is introduced as my mother when we have strangers near.”
“And your wife?” Tristan asked.
“As I said, our women are nae blessed with long life,” he replied.
They were silent for a long time before Loeiza spoke.
“Brother, you ken that as wolves we believe in one mate and when mated it is for life,” she said. Tristan nodded. “The moment I saw Gregor I kenned he was the man I was to mate. He is a good and kind man and I… I love him.” Gregor pulled her tighter into him.
“That feeling is mutual, Tristan,” Gregor replied.
“But you have already had a mate,” Tristan countered. Weylyn leaned forward interested in Gregor’s answer.
“Aye,” he agreed. “But I am also of druid descent. Druids believe that there could be as many as two mates for us. Our soul mate, the person we are destined to be with in this life or the next, and a mate. If we miss meeting our soul mates at the proper time, we are granted our mates and can live a long and happy life with them. But, if they are taken from us, with the gods’ permission, we could possibly meet our soul mate and the pull will be so great it would consume us.”
“Loeiza you are nae immortal,” Tristan said. “What will happen to you when you age and die and he remains young?”
“There is a way for us to die,” Gregor replied. “As witnessed by Aedan last eve. Only wolf teeth can tear through our hide. Only another wolf can kill us. And when I lose her, I will have my clan kill me and name whatever child we have as Chief.”
Tristan looked from one to the other of them and his eyes finally rested on Loeiza.
“Is this truly what you want?” he asked.
“Aye, brother it is,” she answered. “I love him.”
Tristan sighed but finally nodded.
“I swore to you I would nae be like father,” he addressed his sister. “I will nae stand in your way. You have my blessing to wed when you are of age.”
“Oh, thank you!” she raced to him and threw her arms around him.
“I suppose it is your desire to stay here until then?” Tristan asked.
She nodded and looked back at Gregor.
“Aye, Alpha,” he said. “As my future lady wife, she will be needed.”
“Well then, so long as I have your solemn vow that you will protect her, I give my permission,” he turned to his sister after Gregor nodded. “Loeiza, I pray you will be happy. And send me word when your marriage approaches. I will be here with you to celebrate.”
“But how, brother?” she asked. “You will be well advanced in years by then and Uncle Weylyn… you may no’…”
“We will all be here, my dear,” Weylyn stepped forward. “Trust us, all will be well.” He turned to Gregor. “We give you a flower. Take care of her.”
“I swear to you upon the grave of my forebears, I will,” he swore.
“And my son?” Weylyn asked.
“I will make the announcement that it was a death in battle saving their future lady,” Gregor said. “All will be well.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
Everyone at Sutherland Keep was pleased to have a new lady for their chief but the warriors were glad to see the backs of the pack. Aedan felt the most hostility and spent most of the day within his room to not cause a scene with another.
Once they had reached the tree line away from the keep, Weylyn turned. “Where will we go?” Weylyn asked as he wrapped Eithne in his warmth. The temperature had dropped and the wolves felt the storm looming.
“Skye,” Tristan stated. “We have nowhere else. We will make our way south and see if we desire to cross to the isle or stay on the mainland.”
“I donnae like leaving our sister, Tristan,” Eion said. “I wish you had thought this through.”
Tristan put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I love our sister, Eion,” he began. “But this was her choice. I made the decision to leave and you promised your loyalty to me. If you desire, I can release you of that and you are welcome to stay with Loeiza.”
“Nay,” he answered too quickly. “Nay,” he said softly. “Forgive me, I merely worried for her safety.”
“Gregor has sworn he will protect her,” Tristan replied. “She will be well. But now we must travel. I feel a storm approaching and I donnae want Isla out in the cold.”
“I thank you,” she replied huddled into Aedan’s side.
***
Winter Solstice brought with it a snowstorm as never before seen in Alba. The pack made camp in a large cave near standing stones for their druid women. As the wind and snow howled passed the entrance, Weylyn stoked the fire and warmed some whisky Gregor had gifted them. Isla’s strength was returning and as she sat between her husband and sister, she caressed her stomach soothing the child within.
“How long do you believe the storm will last?” Eithne asked when a gust of cold winter air whistled through the cave scattering ashes.
“Donnae fear, Eithne,” Eion said helping her up while Weylyn and Aedan used his plaid to cover the entrance. “All will be well in the morning.”
“I thank you, Eion,” she said accepting a drink from him. “I am chilled to the very core.”
“Here,” he promptly removed his outer cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Sinking into the warmth of his wolf temperature she smiled up at him. Weylyn returned and sat beside her.
“Are you chilled, lass?” he asked.
“Aye, but your nephew was so kind he lent me his cloak,” Eithne explained.
Weylyn looked up at Eion. “My thanks,” he said. “Perhaps it would do well for the women to rest near to the fire. If we could form a line of our bodies between them and the entrance it may help.”
“Aye,” Eion jumped around to help Tristan set out some logs for them to sit.
“Are you well, lass?” Weylyn whispered to her.
“As well as can be expected, Weylyn. I thank you,” she replied. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him.
“I am glad that Eion has helped you,” he said.
“I donnae wish to hurt him,” she went on. “But I do believe he…”
“What is it?” Weylyn asked gently.
“I believe he has formed some sort of attachment to me in his mind,” she admitted.
“Does it trouble you?” he asked.
“Only when I think of the possibility of hurting him,” she answered. “I donnae care for him at all in that way. He is your nephew and a member of the pack but more than that,
he… frightens me. I remember Marrock and he looks so very much like him.”
Weylyn looked over at Eion helping Tristan set out the logs for the men to sit on. ’Twas true what she said, Eion had the true look of his father. His black hair and light eyes, he and Faolán had mentioned to each other multiple times that Eion was the image of his father at his age.
“I will speak with him if you wish me to,” Weylyn offered.
“Och, nay,” Eithne looked up at him. “I donnae wish to hurt him. ’Tis nothing I cannae handle and I have no desire to cause a rift between you and your kin.”
“Eithne, you should nae feel uncomfortable in your own pack,” he said. “I promised you I would look after you. Please let me.”
“’Tis nothing, really, Weylyn,” she urged. “I thank you for your desire to help me but I am well and can take care of myself. I truly appreciate all you have done for me, but I must face some things alone. We are no’ mated yet, please stop forcing it. You asked for time, I am striving to give it to you. It does nae help me when you are like this. It only weakens my resolve and in the end it will hurt me when you push me away again.”
Eithne stood and went to Alexina who was playing with Giorsal to calm her during the storm. Weylyn stared after her, feeling the dull knife still in his chest at her words. Perhaps he should let her go. Perhaps it would be best if she began to care for Eion. He was young, virile and could give her everything she could want. His eyes drifted to his nephew and watched as he gathered up the wood for the fire at the entrance. He was a fine lad, growing into a fine man. He did look like his father but he had never shown that he was his father. Eithne could be happy with him so long as Weylyn distanced himself from her heart, mind and body and allowed her to fall for another.
With an aching chest, Weylyn stood determined to remove himself from the situation. It was a rash decision but one he needed to do. He would never be over Brietta’s death. He may never act on his feelings for Eithne. Asking to give him time was just an excuse. Eithne deserved better.
Heading to the entrance of the cave, he looked back at his pack. Tristan was directing Eion and his other brothers and sisters, Aedan was laying out more plaids and blankets for the women to lie down, Isla was resting, Eithne and Alexina were playing with Giorsal. He had to leave, he knew he needed to, but he could not make his feet work. Catching his son’s eyes, Weylyn saw a question darken his brow. Weylyn smiled slightly and motioned outside. Pulling back the drape, he stepped into the gale.
Midnight Sky (The Wolf's Bane Saga Book 3) Page 10
