by Victoria Zak
Fury erupted inside her like nothing she’d ever felt before. How dare this man try to kill her wolf? Suddenly, the leash she’d been tethered to snapped and she charged Cormag. As he saw her running toward him, he raised his hands in surrender. But it was too late. There was no stopping the wrath of a blood drinker. She clawed at him mercilessly, reliving all her pain and sorrow, finally finding a worthy recipient for her pent-up rage.
Adaira kicked him in the stomach, sending him to the ground. Deep slashes covered his body and were bleeding out quickly. Though Adaira needed to feed, the thought of drinking Cormag’s blood turned her stomach.
She knelt beside him. “Ye were right. The curse plaguing me clan will end today,” she whispered in his ear, “Say hello to Beathen.” She snapped his neck, ending the threat to her family.
Adaira sat back on her heels, staring at Cormag. It was done, and she would never regret her choice.
“Adaira,” Teg called out.
She stood and ran over to Teg, who was in human form, kneeling beside his brother.
“He’s badly wounded and cannot shift,” Teg said.
Adaira fell to her knees. Blood poured from Rafe’s stomach wound.
“Wolf, I’m here.” She ran her fingers through his fur. “Do no’ leave me.” She swallowed back the tears. “Teg, what are we going to do? I dinnae know how to save a wolf.”
“Let’s get him inside a tent and warm him up.”
Adaira nodded. She helped carry Rafe to the nearest shelter. They laid him on a pallet.
William joined them. “Shite,” he exclaimed, looking at his fallen Alpha.
“The wound is deep. And there’s another on his hind leg,” Teg said as he examined his brother’s body. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Aye,” William agreed.
“I can give him mine,” Adaira said as she shouldered her way between the two men.
“Ye have done enough.” Teg glared at her.
“Teg, this is no’ me fault. I begged him to let me stay and help fight.”
“Are ye that self-righteous that ye actually believe that if ye had stayed and fought, Rafe wouldn’t be wounded? I swear, Adaira, if Rafe dies…” Teg choked back the tears.
“Tegwyn,” William warned. “We all agreed to fight. I know ye want to place blame on someone, but this is no’ her fault.”
Teg shook his head, his disappointment and anger clear.
“Me blood can heal humans. Can it help a wolf?” Adaira asked.
William scratched his chin. “I don’t know. It’s risky.”
“What do ye mean? Me blood can fight infection.”
“Aye, lass. That is the problem. Rafe is a wolf. Yer blood will kill his wolf.”
Adaira’s heart plummeted. Her blood could kill him? “Are ye sure?”
“I have not witnessed it myself, but the rumors are enough to tread softly.
No wolf will risk losing their kindred spirit.”
“So, there’s hope,” Adaira said. “No one knows for certain whether a Baobhan sith’s blood will kill a wolf?”
“Aye,” William confirmed.
“Ye’ll stay away from him.” Tegwyn pointed at Adaira. “As his brother, I know him better than any of ye. He’d die before he’d risk killing his wolf.”
“Teg, if we do nothing, he’ll die anyway. Please, let me try to help him,”
Adaira begged. “I can no’ lose him.”
Teg looked to William. Adaira prayed they would allow her to help, because nothing was going to stop her from saving the man she loved.
Finally, William nodded.
“Rafe would never accept losing his wolf,” Teg said grimly. “He’d want to die like a warrior, he deserves that respect.”
“I understand, Tegwyn,” Adaira said, tears burning her eyes. “B-but I
canna lose him.”
Teg stepped away from the pallet and looked at Adaira. There was deep sadness in his eyes. Had he changed his mind, then? Would he let her save the man she loved?
“Save him, all of him.” Teg left the tent.
Before departing, William placed his hand on her shoulder. “I have faith in ye, lass. Bring him home.”
Quickly, Adaira knelt beside Rafe. His breathing was labored, he was in a lot of pain. She examined the wound on his stomach, it was fatal. She bit into her wrist, then held it over the wound, letting drops of her blood fall on it.
Her wolf whimpered. This was a good sign that her blood was already doing its job. She caressed his head. “Shhh, my love. Today is no’ yer day to fade into the void.”
Within moments, his skin started to stitch back together and his breathing slowed down. Because he was too weak to shift back into his human form, he couldn’t drink her blood. Adaira held her wrist over Rafe’s mouth and drops of blood fell on his tongue. “Drink, Wolf.” He didn’t move. “Drink,” she demanded. “Ye have to drink.”
He didn’t move.
What was happening? “Nay, Rafe.” Panicked, she felt for a pulse. It was weak and erratic. “Nay,” she sobbed. “Ye can no’ leave me, Wolf. Do ye hear me? Ye can no’ leave me.”
She cradled his head on her lap and rocked back and forth. “I’m so sorry.
I failed to protect ye, just like my sisters.” Anger surfaced inside her as she contemplated a future they would never share. “This is no’ fair. We were so close to being happy.”
No matter how close she came to happiness, she’d never reach it. It wasn’t her fate. “I love ye, Wolf.”
She sobbed through the night, blaming herself for his impending death.
He’d still be alive if it was no’ for me. She curled up next to Rafe, snuggled against his fur. She took in her wolf’s spicy scent which only made her break down more. This couldn’t be the last time she’d hold her wolf, feel his warmth, or touch his soft fur. She closed her tear-filled eyes. He had to live.
The night had been long and worrisome for Adaira as she laid by her wolf; never leaving his side. Heavy footsteps paced outside the tent alerted her morn was here. Rafe’s pack were waiting for news about the condition of their Alpha. However, Adaira didn’t want to open her eyes and face the fact
that her wolf could be dead. As long as she felt him next to her, she could go on believing he was alive.
Nay. They deserved to know. She had to know.
Praying to the gods for a miracle, she opened her eyes. Stunned to meet Rafe’s gaze, she stared deep into his gaze. He’d survived the night? By the gods…Was this fae trickery?
“I’ve always loved watching ye sleep.” Rafe brushed her hair back from her face.
Adaira touched his face. “Is this a dream?”
“Nay, I’m here.”
Her heart felt like it was going to burst with joy. She wrapped her arms around him. “I thought ye were dead.”
“Just resting,” he teased.
“Dinnae ever scare me like that again.” She blinked, shocked and pleased his body had healed—even more grateful that his sense of humor was intact.
“How are ye feeling, Wolf? Do ye need more blood?”
“Blood?”
“Aye, I gave ye me blood to heal ye.”
Rafe sat up, shoving his hands through his hair. “Do ye know what ye have done?”
“Aye, Teg told me about the risks.” Adaira’s brows creased. “Rafe, are ye mad at me?” She watched his jaw tighten. “I saved yer life.”
“’Tis not much of a life without my wolf.”
“We dinnae know that ye lost yer wolf. Ye need time to fully heal. I can help.” She stood, looking down at him.
“I think ye should go.”
Was he really throwing her out after everything they’d been through?
How could he blame her for saving him? “Fine, I’ll go. Ye’ll need someone to set yer leg. Should I send Teg in?”
“Do as ye will.” He wouldn’t look at her. He stared at the ceiling as a tear rolled down his cheek. She wanted to comfort him, but it was perfec
tly clear he needed time to think, and she was the last person he wanted to confide in.
Adaira left the tent, holding back the tears. She knew she could never replace the love he had for his wolf. But wasn’t she worth living for?
Teg was sitting by the fire. He slowly stood and wiped his hands down his plaid as she approached. “Is he—”
“Alive? Aye.”
Teg sighed with relief.
“However, he’s angry.”
“His wolf?”
“Aye.”
Teg shook his head. “I knew it. This isn’t going to sit well with him.”
“But he’s alive. He just needs time to heal.”
“Can I see him?”
“Aye. Rafe still needs his leg set. He will no’ allow me to help.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“As soon as he’s able to ride, we’re leaving for Dornoch,” Adaira commanded. “Now that the battle is over, I need to find Leana.”
Teg nodded. “I’ve already sent word back to Dornoch that Laird Cormag is dead. His head on a spike should be enough proof.”
“Thank ye.” She walked away.
18
MASIE LOOKED DOWN and rubbed her stomach. “Are ye sure, Ina?”
“Aye. Ye are with child.”
Masie’s heart swelled with happiness. “I can no’ believe it.” She giggled.
“Kerr and I are having a wee one.”
The disappointment on Ina’s face didn’t go unnoticed. Dread crept over Masie as her past with Ina surfaced. It hadn’t been easy for her to forgive Ina for placing a spell on her and trying to turn Kerr against her all because of the witch’s love for Masie’s husband. However, in Massie’s time of need, Ina had a change of heart and helped her fight back against the fae queen’s magic that left Masie weak. For that, she was grateful.
Their friendship had grown over the months. They’d even found something in common, witchcraft. Masie had always been intrigued with spells, but never had anyone to teach her. When Masie asked Ina to show her, Ina was pleased to do so.
“I’m sure Kerr will be happy about the news.” Ina walked over to the water basin and washed her hands.
As much as Ina was trying to hide her displeasure, Masie saw right through her. “Ina, I can tell this news does no’ sit well with ye.”
Ina wiped her hands dry on a cloth. “I’m fine.”
Ina turned around and Masie met her gaze. “I dinnae believe ye. I know how much ye love Kerr. I need ye to be honest with me.”
Ina exhaled.
“Please. Ye can no’ tell me the child I’m carrying does no’ change our relationship. Ina, I enjoy yer company. But if ye can no’ be honest with me
and tell me how ye’re feeling, I can no longer trust ye.”
“Masie.” Ina walked over to the bed where Masie was resting and sat down. “Ye’re right. The news of yer child is like a dagger through my heart.
There will always be a part of me that loves Kerr, but our friendship is more important.”
“Aye. I never thought we’d become friends.”
“I was a nasty witch to ye.”
They giggled.
“I’m glad ye’re a witch. I would no’ have survived the queen’s spell without ye.”
Ina cleared her throat. “Ye want to know the sex of yer babe?”
Masie’s eyes widened. “Ye can do that? I’m barely showing.”
Ina stood and walked over to the dresser, pulling the top drawer out.
“Aye. ‘Tis auld magic, but my stone has never been wrong.” Ina pulled a gray stone out of a small, leather bag.
“A stone is going to tell me boy or girl?”
Ina returned to Masie. “This is no’ any auld stone. This stone has been passed down through my family for generations. With each pregnancy, a fertility spell was placed upon the stone. It was used to help women conceive and tell the sex of their babes. With each baby born, the power of the stone has become stronger.”
Masie listened intently.
Ina placed the stone on Masie’s navel. A warm sensation tingled through her body, then the stone glowed. “What’s happening?” Masie gazed at the stone, then Ina—worried.
“Shhh. Do no’ move.”
Masie swallowed her fear, knowing she should trust her friend.
A moment later, Ina picked up the stone. She closed her eyes, chanting words Masie didn’t understand. After what seemed like forever, Ina finally presented the stone to her.
“Ina, what does this mean?”
Ina opened her eyes and looked at the stone. She gasped.
Masie sat up. “What is it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Please, tell me what’s going on.”
“The stone will glow the color of one of the parents’ eyes which indicates boy or girl.”
Masie looked at the stone and squealed, “It’s a boy. The stone is green.”
“Aye, but wait. Look deeper into the stone.”
Masie took the stone from Ina. She looked deeper. “There’s a darkness swirling in the middle. What does this mean? Is there something wrong with the babe?”
“Nay, he’s a blood drinker.”
All the joy and happiness surrounding Masie’s heart faded. A blood drinker?
“Masie,” Ina held her hand. “This babe could cause ye much harm. He’ll be ravenous and drain ye of life. Ye must be watched verra closely.”
Masie placed her hand on her stomach. “I dinnae want it.” A tear rolled down her face.
“Ye must no’ think that way. This babe was meant to be.” Ina smiled.
“Once ye tell Kerr, ye’ll change yer mind.”
Masie stood and adjusted her dress. How was she going to tell Kerr? He would never accept the monster inside her? “Nay, I will no’ tell him.”
“Ye have to tell him. Ye’re his wife.”
“Nay. Dinnae ye have a spell to take care of this?”
Ina hugged her.
“I can no’ have this babe,” Masie cried.
“Shhh.” Ina tried to console her.
A knock at the door startled Masie. “Masie, lass, are ye in there?” Kerr called.
Masie looked at Ina, scared to death. “I can no’ tell him.”
“Ye must.” Ina swiped the tears from Masie’s face. “Trust in him.”
“Masie,” Kerr exclaimed.
“Aye, love.” She cleared her throat and brushed the rest of the tears away.
Kerr opened the door. “I bring ye good news this morn, my angel.” He kissed her cheek, then greeted Ina.
“Good morn, Commander Kerr.” Ina bowed. “I was just leaving.”
Kerr nodded as Ina left the bedchamber.
“What good news do ye bring?” Masie asked.
“I have word that Laird Keith has fallen in battle.”
“What?”
“Aye, Adaira is now the chieftain. The Gunn and Keith feud is over.”
Masie wrapped her arms around Kerr. “I can no’ believe it.”
“Adaira would like to see ye. We’ll leave in the morn.”
Masie stepped out of his embrace, her gaze averted.
“I thought ye’d be happy to see yer sister.” Kerr tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “We dinnae have to go.”
Tears rolled down her face. “I do want to go.”
“What’s wrong.”
“Nothing.” She walked to the window and looked out as she gathered her strength.
“Those are no’ happy tears, Masie.” He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Tell me what ails ye and I’ll slay it,” he teased.
Masie knew the truth behind his words. He’d kill anything that dared harm her.
“Ye can no’ slay this problem, me love.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “I’m with child.”
Silence sliced through the room. He was emotionless as she waited nervously for his response. Was he thinking what she had failed
to—how was this going to work? The silence was driving her daft. “Kerr, say something.”
She turned to face him.
Kerr shoved his hands through his hair and began to pace. “A wee one?”
Masie nodded. “I understand if ye dinnae want it. This pregnancy happened too fast, before we had a chance to talk about children.” Masie looked to the floor, rubbing her hands together. “Ina says it’s a boy.”
Kerr gave pause. “A boy.”
Masie closed her eyes, afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes when she told him the babe’s true nature. “He’s a blood drinker.”
She heard his heart skip a beat. She opened her eyes and watched Kerr’s face harden as he took in the news.
“Please… I will no’ keep him if it means losing ye. In fact, I dinnae know if I want him.”
“Masie,” Kerr whispered.
“Nay. I’ve cursed our son.” Tears streamed down her face.
Kerr took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Ye didnae curse our son, love. He’s got the best of us inside him.” She looked up and Kerr cupped her face. “This is our bairn. I will no’ turn me back on our child, no matter what. I’m proud to be yer husband and now the father of yer children.
We’ll get through this, together.”
Masie nodded.
Kerr placed his hands on her stomach. “A son?”
Masie looked down at Kerr’s hands as he rubbed her stomach. Happiness, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, swelled in her chest. They were going to have a wee one. “Aye.”
19
THE SWEET SMELL of honey woke Rafe from a deep sleep. He knew who had been in his bedchamber. Every night since they’d returned to Dornoch, Adaira left provisions on the table next to his bed.
Rafe winced as he rolled over onto his back and looked around the room in hope of catching a glimpse of Adaira, but she’d already left. She hadn’t said a word to him since their fight, nor did he want her to. He was still angry. Angry that she didn’t listen to him and stay away from the battle.
Angry that he couldn’t use his right leg. Angry that her blood killed his wolf.
How could she do this to him? It was a warrior’s right to die in battle with honor. Now he was nothing more than a broken-down man.
He eyed the wound on his gut. It was healed but still tender. His leg injury had left him a cripple, dependent on the walking stick propped next to the bed. The damned thing humiliated him, reminding him of his weakness.
