by Victoria Zak
“Careful, I hear the Mad Dog barking.”
Rafe eyed Teg. “Mayhap, the beast should come out.” Those were strong and dangerous words. The urge to storm Cormag’s bedchamber and slit his throat in the middle of the night was a thought that had played out over and over in his mind. He could even taste the laird’s blood on the tip of his tongue.
“That look on yer face scares me,” Teg said. “Are we going to battle?”
“Battle?”
“Aye,” Tag said. “Why would there be any question about it? Adaira
needs our help.”
Rafe’s brows creased. “Why do ye care about what happens to Adaira?”
“I know I’ve been harsh toward her in the past. But I see the way ye look at her. Ye love her, which makes her family.”
Rafe shook his head. “Nay, this is my fight. I want ye to lead the pack now. Take them far away from here and start a new life. I cannot allow any more bloodshed.”
Teg looked shocked. “I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Have ye forgotten that we live and fight together? Trust in yer pack, Brother. Don’t break away from yer family. A lone wolf is a dead wolf.”
“My decision is final.” Rafe began to walk away.
“Don’t go.” Teg grabbed his arm. “The pack needs ye. I have felt a change coming on for a long time. Our people have grown tired of serving the laird like dogs. ‘Tis time we make a stand. Let’s take back this clan for Adaira. She’s the rightful heir.”
“I’d watch yer tongue. Clan Keith has been good to us when no one else was.”
“Aye, but it was for their benefit, not ours. They use us. What do ye think will happen when the laird grows tried of us?”
Rafe yanked his arm free from Teg’s grip. Everything his brother said was true. He’d sensed it in the air and seen it on his men’s faces. No longer would he look the other way and allow Cormag power over him. ‘Tis best for his people to leave. He’d finish off Cormag. Adaira would be free and so would his pack. “Brother, I cannot allow the pack to stay and fight. Lead them to safety.”
“With all due respect, I’m not asking for yer approval. We fight together.” Teg pushed by him.
“I will not bring the pack into this matter,” Rafe called after his brother.
“We are already involved.”
“Ye’re as stubborn as Seren.”
“Aye, and prettier.” Teg turned around and wriggled his brows at Rafe.
Rafe scratched his chin. Why was the laird so quick to condemn Adaira?
Rafe thought about what his brother had said about Adaira being the rightful heir. There was something more here than justice for Beathen. If his suspicions were right, Cormag wanted to eliminate any threat to his seat as chieftain. And Adaira was the biggest threat.
The great hall was full of laughter, the savory aroma of cooked meat and pleasing music had put everyone in a good mood. It made Rafe’s gut turn knowing what they were celebrating. In the last two days, hatred for the Keith sisters had grown. The laird held meetings, reassuring his people that he’d caught his son’s murderer. He’d increased the bounty on Leana’s head.
Groups of hunters had left the castle in search of the girl so they could collect the reward.
With everyone distracted, now was the time to free Adaira. Rafe would help her prove her innocence, and then he would deal with Cormag, alone.
Rafe made his way toward the back of the room where his pack sat together at a table. He walked up to Teg. “Tegwyn—”
“Come, sit,” William, one of Rafe’s oldest and most trusted mentors, interrupted. “We need to talk.”
Rafe eyed Teg suspiciously. What was he up to?
“It has come to my attention ye wish Teg to lead the pack,” William said.
“Aye.” Rafe cleared his throat and clasped his hands together on the table. “I see Teg has informed ye of the situation. I have been dishonest. I’ve been secretly helping the Keith sisters escape Laird Cormag.”
“Tis about time someone stood up to that bastard,” William said.
Rafe gave Teg a sideways glance. Teg shrugged.
“There’s more here than Adaira’s alleged crime. I believe the laird isn’t after justice. He feels if Adaira or her sisters are alive, then his seat as chieftain is threatened. I must help her escape and prove her innocence. I don’t expect the pack to get involved. As I told Teg, it’s too risky. I want him to lead ye to safety and let me deal with Cormag. I don’t expect, nor deserve yer loyalty.”
William leaned forward. “Neither does Cormag. Love is a much greater force than a man seeking vengeance.”
“William—”
“Let me finish. ‘Tis true, we no longer want to be under Cormag’s rule.
Ye are our leader, our Alpha. We are loyal to ye. If battle is the only way to free us from the laird and save yer woman, then ye have my sword.”
“I cannot ask that of ye.”
“Have ye lost faith in yer pack, young pup? They may outnumber us ten-to-one, but our wolves are more powerful.”
Rafe exhaled and looked down the table. Hope shined in their eyes. There was no talking them out of it. They wanted their independence from Cormag.
“William, do ye understand what ye’re turning down? Ye can start a new life without the Mad Dog sullying yer name.”
William emptied his tankard of ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And leave all the fun for ye? Bah, we stay and fight proudly with the Mad Dog. Now, let’s get ye inside that tower.”
Rafe nodded. He couldn’t force the words of gratitude past the lump in his throat. No matter what, this pack stayed together.
13
ADAIRA BLEW a stray hair out of her eye. She’d spent the better part of the day scraping away pieces of stone that secured the iron bars to the lone window in her room. Her fingernails were broken and her fingertips were bloodied, but she continued to claw away for her freedom. It was the only way out.
Her hand slipped and slammed into one of the iron bars. Pain shot down her wrist as her skin blistered from contact with the iron. “Shite,” she hissed and held her hand to her chest. Defeated, she sat under the window, resting the back of her head against the wall. As she looked around the chamber, she was amused at how well Cormag had shut her in.
In addition to being heavily guarded, the room reminded her of a tomb.
The curved walls were pure stone and the wooden door was reinforced with iron bars. Adaira chuckled. The bastard knew iron was the only thing that could keep her inside.
Tears stung her eyes. Two moons had passed—where was Rafe? Had he deserted her? Was this his way of punishing her?
Maiden, Mother, Crone, she was slipping right back into old habits—
second guessing Rafe’s love and loyalty.
Rescuing her meant he had to continue to lie to his pack. Mayhap, she wasn’t worth Rafe losing his family over. She exhaled. She should have known—to wolves, family always came first.
Adaira hugged her knees to her chest. The fight within her was beginning to fade. She was tired and hungry. Without her sisters, the isolation alone was playing tricks on her. Her body wanted to give up, and her mind wasn’t far
from its breaking point.
Her mother’s voice echoed inside her head, “Courage does no’ always roar. Be brave and try again tomorrow.”
Adaira sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek. Leana needs me. She looked at her hand as the last blister disappeared; her ability to heal quickly was something she appreciated. She made a fist, then opened her hand. Her fingertips were healed, her nails stronger than before. Aye, it was her duty as the eldest to keep her sisters safe.
Feeling pity for herself didn’t suit her. That kind of thinking would only slow her down. She wasn’t defeated. Cormag had no idea who he was dealing with.
Adaira had gone back to scraping the stone when the door swung open.
She turned around and charged the door, showing her fangs.
; “Easy, lass!” Rafe threw his hands up. “Adaira, it’s me, Rafe.”
The sound of his voice settled her restless spirit. She stood in front of him, hesitant to believe her eyes. “Rafe?”
“Aye, my queen.”
She threw her arms around him, squeezing his neck. “What took ye so long?”
“I got to ye as fast as I could.”
Adaira stepped out of his embrace. Rafe grabbed her shoulders and looked her over. “Are ye hurt?”
Adaira shook her head.
He cupped her face and kissed her. The taste of mint and spice exploded inside her mouth. Rafe.
She began to pull away, but was soon stopped as Rafe shoved his hands through her hair, keeping her in place so she couldn’t break the kiss. He edged her backward with his big body, shutting the door behind him. He cupped her breasts. By the saints, she’d missed her wolf.
“Rafe,” she said breathlessly. “As much as I want ye right now, we must stop.”
Rafe growled against her neck and it sent a shiver down her spine. “I hate it when ye’re right.”
Adaira took a step back. “Wait, how did ye get past the guards?”
“I had some help,” he winked.
“Yer pack knows about us?”
“Aye, and I’ll explain everything. But first, we must get ye to the
blacksmith shop. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Adaira nodded. “Aye.”
Rafe opened the door and whistled. He waited. A second later, another whistle sounded. He looked back at Adaira. “We go now.”
Adaira held his hand and followed him out of the chamber. They weren’t far from the stairs. Halfway down, Adaira tripped into Rafe. His body stopped her fall. As she regained her balance, she saw what she’d tripped over. A dead guard propped against the wall with a broken neck.
Rafe looked back at Adaira. “Are ye all right?”
“Aye. I see how ye stormed the tower.”
“The bastard won’t stand between me and my queen again.” He kissed her cheek. “Be careful and watch yer step.”
Adaira smiled. “Aye.”
As Adaira continued down the stairs, she sidestepped more bodies. She hadn’t realized just how many men had been guarding the tower. Blood dripped from one step to another. The copper tinged smell of fresh blood caused her gums to throb. Her gut to tighten. Resist the urge, she warned herself.
Finally, they made it out.
Two of Rafe’s men were disposing of the bodies in the woods. Adaira watched. There had to have been at least twenty dead men. Body parts littered the ground. She’d never seen a slaughter quite like this before. Aye, she’d seen dying men on the battlefield. However, this was different. These men had died because of her.
“Adaira.” Rafe’s concern was evident in his tone.
Knowing Rafe, he was worried about her witnessing the aftermath of a wolf battle. However, she felt no pity for these bastards. They should have run when they saw the wolves coming. To her, this was the price paid for choosing the wrong side to fight for.
“Yer pack did this? For me?” Adaira asked.
“Aye. They like Cormag as much as ye do.”
“Wolf, I’m impressed and honored they would fight for me.”
Rafe took her hands in his. “They think of ye as family.”
“And why is that?”
“Because ye’re mine.” He caressed her cheek. The coarseness of his skin gave her gooseflesh.
Adaira shook her head. “I dinnae deserve such loyalty.”
“We have an eternity to debate that point. Right now, we must go. We need to get ye to the blacksmith shop.”
“Aye.”
They sneaked their way through the bailey to the shop which was a few yards away. Adaira’s heart began to race the closer they got. The dreaded smithy. Aye, part of her was a wee bit afraid of what she’d find inside. What was even harder to take was facing her past, a man she loathed and a name she vowed never to say again for as long as she lived.
She followed Rafe behind the forge wagon in front of the shop. They crouched down and stayed hidden.
“Let’s go,” Rafe urged.
She panicked and grabbed his arm.
“What’s wrong?”
Words escaped her. She couldn’t force herself to go inside.
“Adaira.” Rafe squeezed her hand. “Look at me. What’s wrong?”
She inhaled and closed her eyes, trying to ward off visions of the blacksmith. Her sister needed her to be strong. Adaira drew strength from Rafe’s presence. “Auld ghosts,” she said.
Rafe nodded. “I’ll go in first. Ye stay put until I come for ye.”
Adaira nodded, though reluctant to let him go.
“No one will harm ye ever again.” He kissed her hand. “Ye have my word.”
His intense gaze made her stomach flutter with desire and filled her heart with happiness. Rafe was risking his life for her family. All he wanted in return was her love.
Love? Was this what love felt like? She cupped his cheek and smiled tenderly. “I know, Wolf. Never would I have doubted it.”
Rafe kissed her quickly. “Listen for my whistle.”
“Aye.”
Adaira watched Rafe slip closer to the smithy. He shouldered the door open and disappeared inside. She kept her eyes locked on the door while taking slow, steady breaths as she awaited his signal. She hoped she would find what she was looking for. Whatever it was, she prayed Leana was innocent. If not, she didn’t know what to do. They couldn’t keep running.
The madness had to stop.
Rafe’s shrill whistle sounded. She ran inside where Rafe waited with a lit torch. “I searched the shop. No one is here.”
Relief washed over her. She wouldn’t have to face the blacksmith.
“Do ye want me to wait outside?” Rafe asked.
“Nay.” She looked around the dimly lit room. “Just keep an eye out for the blacksmith.”
“Aye. Let’s hope he’s at the gathering, drunk.”
“A gathering? The laird has much to celebrate, aye?” Adaira walked over to the hearth along the back wall.
“I hope he feasts well. It will be his last,” Rafe growled.
Adaira turned and gave him a questioning look.
“’Tis not the time. Find what ye came for and let’s get out of here.”
“Wolves.” Adaira shook her head.
Rafe followed her with the torch.
Adaira reached inside the forge. The wood was still hot, which meant the blacksmith hadn’t been gone for long. She inhaled a shaky breath. Leana needs ye.
Carefully, she scooped a handful of ash and stood. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she looked toward the middle of the room. Something pulled her to that spot. She looked up at Rafe. “I need to start a fire over there.” She pointed to the center of the shop.
Rafe nodded. “I’ll go look for some wood.”
While Rafe searched, Adaira made her way to the area. As she got closer, the air warmed around her and coiled up her body. Her skin tingled from her toes to her fingertips. Aye, there was some kind of magic here.
Rafe returned with three pieces of wood.
“Put the wood there.” She pointed in front of her. “Rafe, I can already feel Leana’s magic. She was here.”
Rafe gave her a concerned look. “I hope we get good news.”
“Aye.”
Rafe placed the wood on the floor, then lit it with the torch. Adaira spread the ash she’d taken from the hearth, making a ring around the fire. “Rafe, can I have yer dirk?”
Rafe handed the weapon to her.
Adaira cut a long lock of hair off her head. She threw it in the fire and watched it curl and singe until it disappeared. She grabbed the blade and slit the palm of her right hand, then quickly held it over the flames. As soon as her blood mingled with the fire, the flames flickered angrily.
Adaira retuned the dirk, then licked the wound on her hand to make it
heal. She knelt in front of the fire and closed her eyes. All fear left her body as she took in a deep breath and cleared her mind.
“I call upon the power of the blue flames. I humbly ask for the truth that lies in the past. Show me.” Adaira repeated the chant three times. Her blood heated and raced through her veins. The magic was working. The sensation intensified and she opened her eyes and stared into the flames.
The fire burned blue as a scene unfolded before her. Leana danced around the Samhain fire as two men watched her with lust filled eyes. Normally this wouldn’t raise concern, however Adaira couldn’t shake the danger she felt lurking in the shadows. Her sister’s naughty laughter echoed inside Adaira’s head. She knew the laugh too well. Aye, this wasn’t a good situation.
Afraid of what she’d see next, Adaira closed her eyes tight. Did she really want to know what had taken place that night? Could she live with the truth?
Could she live with the fact her sister went rogue and had killed these men?
Suddenly the smell of ale mixed with burning iron struck her with concern. Knowing Leana and the alluring ways of the Baobhan sith, she feared the worst. Adaira opened her eyes and gasped as she flashed back in time and was standing inside the blacksmith shop cloaked by the spell. Next to the hearth she spotted the threesome tearing each other’s clothes off and ravishing Leana’s body. Shite, they were drowning in Leana’s seduction.
Adaira took a closer look. She didn’t recognize one of the men, however the lad standing behind Leana squeezing her sister’s breasts was indeed Beathen.
Leana peered over Beathen’s shoulder, and Adaira gasped. Her sister’s eyes had turned black—a darkness Adaira knew all too well. It was the look of a Baobhan sith before she dragged her victim into blind passion. It was bloodlust.
Dread consumed Adaira. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Leana…nay…
dinnae…” Adaira yelled into the flames.
Suddenly, black smoke rolled into the room. Confusion spread across Leana’s face as the smoke engulfed them. The men didn’t notice; it was as if they were under a spell. Adaira panicked. She couldn’t see the men anymore, but their screams shook her to the core.
Leana covered her mouth with both hands, stifling a scream. A figure with black wings stepped from the smoke and walked toward Leana. He spread his wings, blocking Adaira’s view of her sister.
