Craved By The Highland Wolf (The Clan MacGregor Book 3)

by Stephanie Marks

  Even the normal sounds of wildlife were silenced as we passed, as if the forest-dwelling animals knew what was about to happen. I could not hear a single birdsong, even with my new heightened hearing.

  When we got to the clearing a large crowd of clansman had already gathered there. They stood behind Graham McConnell, whispering eagerly at the sight of our approach.

  My heart sank at the sight of the group. It did not bode well that Graham had drawn so many people to his cause. I gritted my teeth in anger at the sight. Alastair had led and protected his clan for years. To see how quickly so many were able to turn their backs on him out of fear made my blood boil. The Clan McGregor had gone unchallenged for so long that they were letting their fear cloud their judgment at the first sign of trouble.

  How could they hold their heads high and call themselves wolves when they showed such cowardice and disloyalty?

  As we came up to the edge of the challenge area, the groups on either side spread out to flank the two men, wrapping around the open space in a circle, effectively closing them in. In the center of the circle stood the magistrate, Mr. Alpin. His face bore a grim expression and his eyes betrayed his fatigue with deep lines etched into the soft, plump skin near his eyes.

  We stood silently and waited with bated breath as the last few rays of daylight began to disappear and Mr. Alpin slowly raised his hands above his head, the flats of his palms turned out in front of him as though he were trying to hold back the tide.

  “We come together on this night to bear witness to the challenge called forth by our clansman Graham McConnell. Graham has challenged our chief Alastair MacGregor for the right to lead our people as Alpha of our pack.”

  The people around me shifted uncomfortably and I scanned the crowd to take in their reactions to the words being spoken.

  Mr. Alpin lowered his left hand and held it out toward Alastair, who nodded and stepped forward into the clearing. Once Alastair had reached the magistrate, Mr. Alpin lowered his right hand out to Mr. McConnell, who stepped forward silently to join the other two men. Then the magistrate took a deep, shaky breath and pulled himself up to his full height, which was still well below the shoulders of the two larger men who flanked him, facing each other.

  I searched Graham’s face, but it betrayed no emotion.

  Mr. Alpin reached up and placed a hand on each man’s shoulder, then stepped back out of the way until he found a place at the edge of the ring among the crowd.

  The moment the area was clear, Graham swung his fist directly at Alastair’s face. The movement was so sudden that I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth as Alastair bent back at the waist, just barely dodging the blow.

  Graham stepped forward to close the distance, throwing a punch with his other hand, but Alastair ducked beneath it, stepping forward to meet Graham and bringing his own fist up to connect with the bottom of Graham’s jaw. My eyes went wide as Graham’s head snapped back from the force of the blow before he doubled over, Alastair’s fist now planted firmly in the pit of his stomach.

  Before Alastair had a chance to strike again, Graham shoved him back with both hands, slammed palms-first into Alastair’s chest. Having put some distance between them, Graham had a moment to collect himself and prepare for Alastair’s next attack. The men moved around each other smoothly, each taking the other man’s measure before stepping in and striking out.

  As the fighting went on, the blows got harder and less forgiving, each man throwing his entire weight behind his blow, determined to bring his opponent to his knees.

  Suddenly, I heard Alastair roar in pain and saw him stumble back from Graham’s outstretched arm. He turned toward me to reveal the ragged tears in his shirt, the edges soaked in blood and the long gashes in the flesh beneath.

  The fingers on Graham’s hand were elongated into vicious-looking claws and rage welled up in me at the sight.

  “Foul!” I screamed, lunging forward. I didn’t know if partial transformations were against the rules of the challenge or not, but I didn’t care. This whole challenge seemed wrong to me.

  Donald’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist and he hauled me backward off my feet before I had been able to take two steps toward the fighters.

  “Hold, lass! Ye canna interfere in this,” he hissed in my ear.

  I struggled against him for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding in acceptance. Once Donald was sure that I had my emotions under control, he eased his grip on me and then let me go.

  Alastair tore away the tattered remains of his shirt, exposing the injury for all to see. I watched as the muscles began to swell and roll beneath his skin and I took an involuntary step back as he began to shift.

  Graham wasted no time in quickly pulling off his own shirt so he could shift completely as well, and soon two giant wolves stood in the clearing where the two men had been.

  I watched as the pitch-black wolf that was Alastair circled around the honey-brown wolf that was Graham with his head low and his lips pulled back in a deep snarl.

  Graham snapped his jaws at him and the two wolves lunged for each other, tearing at fur and flesh with their claws and teeth as they fought for purchase and the upper hand.

  Graham’s jaws closed around Alastair’s shoulder and clamped down, causing Alastair to howl in pain. My hand flew to Donald’s and squeezed his fingers in fear. Donald pulled me closer to him so that we stood side by side, our arms pressed against each other and our fingers tightly entwined as we watched the two wolves roll over on top of one another in the grass.

  Graham had Alastair pinned beneath him and had started to lower his jaws to the back of Alastair’s neck when Alastair turned and threw Graham off at the last moment. Taking advantage of his moment of freedom, Alastair dove for Graham and wasted no time in wrapping his jaw around Graham’s neck and squeezing.

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the sound of Graham’s pained howls, but forced myself to open them again at Donald’s jostling against me. I had to watch to the very end. I listened to Alastair’s enraged snarls as he shook Graham, and I waited, on edge, to hear the inevitable snap of Graham’s neck breaking, but it never came.

  Surprisingly, Alastair stopped shaking his head and Graham lay still, trapped between his jaws, whimpering softly. I watched in shock as Alastair released the other wolf and took a step back from his opponent. Graham continued to lie there as Alastair shifted back to human form and bent down to wrap his plaid around his waist, covering his nudity.

  He looked down at Graham and then around at the faces staring at him in open-mouthed confusion. “I am your chief and your Alpha, by blood and by deed!” he roared. “I have been challenged and yet I stand before ye bloodied but unbested. If any of ye still doubt the right of my claim, step forward now and claim your right of challenge. But I warn ye, ye will fare no better than the wolf ye see here before ye.” He pointed down to Graham, then walked over to where the other man’s plaid lay in the dirt and draped it carefully over the wolf’s body.

  “We are one clan. One blood. One spirit! I know that ye are afraid. Never before have we faced such attack. But we are MacGregors! We are wolf born! We will face our opponents and we shall show them no fear. We shall show them nothing but the flash of claw and the glint of fang before we send them to meet their Creator. I ask ye to stand by me! To trust in me! And to fight by my side, because together we shall show all just what it means to carry the name MacGregor!”

  The clearing erupted into cheers and whistles of support at his speech.

  Alastair bent down and extended his hand to Graham, who had shifted back to human form. Graham clutched his plaid around him as he took Alastair’s hand and was pulled gingerly to his feet. Alastair stepped forward and embraced Graham gently, mindful of his wounds, before stepping back and holding Graham’s hand high in the air.

  The crowed cheered even louder and I let out a sigh of relief. Alastair’s position with the clan was secure once more, but I had no doubt in my mind that our work had only
just begun.

  CHAPTER 6

  Back in our bedchamber I watched in tense silence as the housekeeper, Mrs. Fletcher, saw to Alastair’s wounds. He sat stripped to the waist, offering me a clear view of the deep, angry gashes across his chest where Graham had slashed him. The wounds had already begun to close, but I knew that I would not be able to breathe easily again until the flesh was once again smooth and unmarked.

  Graham had been brought with us back to the keep and as soon as Mrs. Fletcher had seen to her chief’s wounds she would leave to see to those of the defeated challenger. Even though I was against it, I had bitten my tongue in the clearing when Alastair had commanded Donald to help Graham back to the castle with us so that he could be seen to. It worried me to think that the man who would have killed Alastair less than one short hour ago was now going to be sleeping under our roof.

  “You’re a tough lad, Alastair. Your father would have been proud of ye today,” said Mrs. Fletcher as she packed up the bloody cloths and the red-tinged bowl of water that she had been using to clean Alastair’s wounds.

  “Thank ye, Mrs. Fletcher. It’s kind of ye to say so,” said my husband, squeezing her hand gently.

  “’Tis no kindness on my part but the simple truth. We are in troubled times, young MacGregor, but this evening ye carried yourself with honor and showed mercy where you needn’t have. He lost his challenge and in doing so his death was your due, and yet ye spared him his life. You’ve a good heart in ye, even at the most trying of times. Your father would be proud to see that.”

  Mrs. Fletcher squeezed his shoulder and nodded silently to me before letting herself quietly out of the chamber.

  Once she had left Alastair stood and barred the door behind her before walking over to the side table to poor himself some wine.

  “Here,” I said, standing quickly and taking the pitcher from him. “Let me do that. You go sit down.”

  “There’s no need to fuss over me, Glenna. I’ll be fine,” he protested, but he released his grip on the jug and allowed me to pour.

  “Well, you may not need it, but maybe I do. Maybe I need to fuss over you a bit,” I said softly.

  The candle flames flickered in the light breeze from the open window, throwing our shadows dancing across the walls. I watched them absently for a moment, focusing on them so that my mind wouldn’t wander back to the fight in the forest.

  “For a moment there I thought that I might lose you,” I admitted, turning around to hand him the glass of wine.

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile and he moved stiffly to sit on the edge of the bed before taking a deep swallow from his cup. “Did ye think that my time had come?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “No, I just…” I trailed off before beginning again. “There was one moment when he had you pinned and I saw him about to bite the back of your neck. I don’t believe that I’ve ever been so afraid before in my life. You let him live, once you knew that you had won, but I don’t believe that he would have done the same for you.”

  I shook my head and began to pace as the words tumbled out of me. “If Mr. McConnell had succeeded in defeating you, I am certain that he would have taken your life. I would be here, a widow, my heart broken and mourning you. And yet he is here under our roof. His wounds are being dressed at this very moment. I find it hard to believe that it is just… over as easily is that. I do not trust him. How can you trust him?”

  “He is of clan MacGregor.”

  “But he challenged you!” I insisted.

  “And if not him it would have been another. The people are scared. They needed a show of strength. I needed to be reminded that I could lead them, defend them. Any member of this clan has the right to challenge for the position to lead.”

  “But what if someone else tries to challenge you now? Or what if he tries again? Or tries something underhanded next time?”

  “Graham McConnell would never be able to assume lead of this clan if he were to get rid of me through an underhanded deed. If I die before you bear me a son, then command would fall to my uncle Donald. The only chance Graham had of taking command from me was in the woods tonight. He had no reason to believe that he would come out of that challenge alive if he were to lose. I do not think that he would be so foolish as to throw his life away now by trying to make another move against me. What he did, I’m sure he did for what he believed to be the good of the clan.”

  “I don’t know how you can be so calm about this, have such faith in his intentions,” I grumbled.

  “I am their chief. I must stay calm and clear-headed. And I know my people. I have to believe in them, otherwise we have already lost. If we are not fighting for each other, then what are we fighting for?”

  I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “So are you telling me that you would now have this man fighting at your side? You would trust him to watch your back in battle after this? You would put your life in his hands?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I will give him the opportunity to prove himself, yes. We must show a united front, Glenna, and the only way to do that is with trust. And to trust someone is always taking a risk.”

  I sighed heavily and covered my face with my hands before dropping them back down to my sides in frustration. “I do not know how you do it,” I said finally. “How you walk such a line every day.”

  “Come sit with me,” he said, patting the bed beside him. “I want to tell you about my father.”

  I sat down next to Alastair, careful not to brush up against him. He was bruised and torn beneath the bandages wrapped around his forearm where Graham had gotten his teeth into him. Alastair might have been willing to put his trust in Graham and his intentions, but I was not.

  He took my hand in his, mindless of his injured arm, and pulled it over to rest on his knee. “My father was the strongest man I have ever known. Not just physically, but mentally as well. From the day I was born he raised me to lead this clan. To always put the needs of my people before my own. That in and of itself was nay less than what any chief should be raised to do, but there was always an extra edge to my father’s teachings. He didn’t just want me to be a good man, but to be a great man. From as early as I can remember he pressed upon me the importance of protecting my people from those who would not understand what we were.”

  “It’s a great responsibility,” I whispered.

  He nodded and looked off into the flame of a nearby candle. His eyes were distant as he thought back to the past. “As far back as I can remember, my father was there, teaching and guiding me.”

  “What happened to your parents?” I asked. My heart felt as if an iron band had been wrapped tightly around it.

  “They died together,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “We were out running together one night and were separated. While we were apart, they were attacked by a sick wolf, one whose mind had obviously snapped from the stress of the change. The wolf attacked my mother and cornered her at the edge of a cliff. She was a brave woman, and she held her own. My father went to protect her and dove for the other wolf. The three of them tangled together as my parents tried to take the wolf down, but suddenly they were falling, and they all went over the cliff together. I found them too late, and was too far away to stop any of it from happening, it all happened so fast. By the time I reached the edge of the cliff, it was too late.”

  Alastair closed his eyes and shook his head. “There are many injuries that we can survive, but the fall was just too much. Maybe if they fell individually? Maybe if they were not so injured before the fall? I canna say, and there is no going back and changing it now.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, my love. I wish that I could have met them.”

  “They would have loved ye, Glenna, of that I’m sure. They would have thought ye very kind and very brave. They would have been proud to have ye as their daughter.”

  I hastily wiped a tear away from my eye and gave him a watery smile. “I would have been pr
oud to know them as well. I would have loved to have met the people who raised such an amazing man, if only to thank them for making my happiness possible.” I leaned forward and kissed him softly, mindful of his split lip. “Your parents would be so very proud of the man you have become.”

  “Thank ye, love. I truly hope so.”

  CHAPTER 7

  I knocked on the door to Alastair’s study and walked in carrying a tray of cups, a large jug of ale and a hearty lunch of cold meats and bread. He had been in there all morning with Donald, Gregory and Mr. Alpin, poring over the latest correspondences from the scouts he had sent out. They had been so focused on working on a strategy that they had not stopped to eat for hours.

  When I stepped into the room I stopped short, surprised by the sight of Graham McConnell sitting with the other men in the chairs around the large desk. I moved forward slowly, trying to organize my thoughts as my mind reeled. Why would Alastair let this man take part in this?

  My eyes never left his back as I made my way forward, trying desperately to resist the urge to throw one of the cups I was carrying at the back of his head.

  He must have sensed my eyes on him because he suddenly turned and I found myself trapped in his piercing gaze. He cocked an eyebrow at me and stared back for a moment before one corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile before settling again, as if he could read my thoughts.

  I narrowed my eyes at him and tore my gaze away from his, only for it to land on Alastair, who was looking at me quizzically. I set the tray down on the desk with a little more force than I had intended and paused for a moment, hoping that no one had noticed.

  “Is that tray a little heavy there, lass?” Donald asked me.

  “I suppose it was a bit heavier than I thought it would be,” I said, avoiding his gaze.

  We all knew that now that I had the wolf in me, the tray was feather light, but I refused to rise to his teasing. I wanted to get out of the room as quickly as possible before I let my temper get the better of me. Pardoning Graham for challenging him was one thing, but Alastair was taking things a bit far.