The Black Wolf

by Fela Dawson Scott

  "Would you like some wine?"

  They had stopped in front of The Raven, and a sudden uneasiness descended on Kolyn. She couldn't hide it from Ainsley. "I don't think so," she said softly, hoping Ainsley would understand. "I'm sure Molly would like to see you again. Even Leslie seemed quite fond of you, Kolyn." "I lied to them about who I was."

  "That's the past, dear. They'll think nothing of it, I'm sure." Ainsley linked her arm in Kolyn's and led her inside. Molly was there instantly, her face smiling, her arms extended. "You found her, I see."

  Before Kolyn could say anything, she was engulfed in a tremendous, smothering hug, the woman's girth swallowing her.

  "Bless me, lass," Molly wheezed. "What made you run off without even a good-bye?" Kolyn felt the warmth creep up her face, and knew she had just reddened to a brilliant shade. Ainsley came to her defense.

  "Now Molly." Her voice took on a soft chastising tone that said more than her words. "I promised Kolyn we'd not pester her with our questions. All that matters is that Ian did find her."

  "And married her, I hear," Molly said, her eyes rolling widely. She grabbed Kolyn and gave her another hug. "I cannot believe it. 'Tis a miracle." "Aye," Ainsley agreed, her eyes misting with emotion.

  Before Kolyn could catch her breath, she was comfortably seated before the fire. Leslie brought their wine, a small smile greeting her. "'Tis hard t' believe you've married Lord Blackstone, my lady." She set the wine down. "I wish you much happiness."

  "'Tis Kolyn, Leslie. There's no reason for you to be so formal with me."

  Leslie laughed, then shared the thought that prompted it. "For a fine lady, you certainly served the ale up fine." "You worked hard," Molly added coming up behind Leslie. "I've had no luck replacin' you." "I figured you were different." Leslie's smile faded and she turned serious. "That you were a lady."

  Leslie drew a deep breath and went on. "But you never acted as if you were better than us.

  I be admirin' of that an' proud t' call you my friend. If," she added, "you still call me friend." Kolyn stood and faced the blond girl whose downcast eyes studied her bared feet. Kolyn pulled Leslie's chin up to look into her eyes. "I still call you my friend."

  Tears swam in the blue pools, and Leslie shyly hugged Kolyn. "I've work t' do." "Aye." Molly tried to sound stern, but failed as her voice broke with emotion. "We've both work t' do." They bustled off, Molly kicking out at the goose as she went, her laughter telling Kolyn she was merely being playful. The goose ignored it altogether as he wandered about at his leisure. Finally, he settled at Kolyn's feet.

  Kolyn began to feel comfortable. She and Ainsley sipped their wine, neither feeling the need for conversation, the quiet moment enjoyable. When they prepared to leave, Molly returned, a gleam in her eye. "'Tis a celebration we be needin', Lady Blackstone." Her gaze moved from one Lady Blackstone to the other. "A great celebration for this miracle."

  Ainsley readily agreed. "I think that would be splendid, Molly." "We can have it right here, where Ian met this lass." Molly reached out and squeezed Kolyn's hand. "I'll have my cooks bring down the food, Molly. And put the ale on our bill. If there is anything else you need, just ask." Molly bustled off in a flurry of apron. "I have it all under control, my lady. It will be a great celebration."

  Ainsley led Kolyn out the door. "What does she mean by a miracle?" Kolyn asked. "Only love can conquer hate, Kolyn. With you and Ian married, the clan feuding is over. Everyone feels it's a blessing, or a miracle."

  "Oh," was all she could think of to say, the reminder dragging her mood down again. For just a few moments, she had forgotten what ugliness she must be about. Ainsley looked concerned. "I'm sorry, dear. Did I upset you?"

  "No. You've been more than kind." Ainsley did not seem convinced. "You looked so . . ." She couldn't seem to find the right word, but Kolyn understood. "I am fine. It's all happening so fast, I just need time to understand everything that's running around inside my head." "You will, Kolyn. You will."

  Ainsley pushed a stray curl from Kolyn's face, much like a mother would do. It stirred a strange longing in Kolyn, who still grieved for her mother, so long dead, yet so strong in memory. Kolyn liked Ainsley, and this made her turmoil even worse. All the worry and strife that had plagued her during the long night returned in a rush. It stole her simple pleasure away, leaving only disturbing thoughts. She felt sick and wanted to be left alone with her misery.

  "I think I need to take you home to rest," Ainsley said. "Yes," Kolyn agreed. "I could use some rest." As the two women left the inn, a sudden intensity touched Kolyn, as if warning her of something. It increased as they walked through the village, the feeling distracting Kolyn from Ainsley's conversation. "Are you looking for something, dear?"

  Kolyn turned back to Ainsley, her question bringing her mind back from the danger she felt. "No, not at all."

  She tried to relax, to tell herself nothing was amiss. Still it dogged her every step back to Stonehaven. Ainsley stopped for a moment to speak to an elderly man, hunched in front of his tiny cottage. Just as Kolyn came to the decision it had been merely her imagination, she saw him. Dwight stood only a few feet away, his stare sending a tremor through her.

  She plainly saw the anger, the hate, glow in the dark depths of his eyes, and she now understood the danger her instincts had been warning her about. Kolyn stepped closer to Ainsley, hoping her presence would deter Dwight from doing anything rash. They were close to Stonehaven, close enough so that he

  would be foolish to try to take her. She turned away, unable to stand the look on his face any longer.

  When Kolyn dared to glance back, he was gone. This discovery sent another wave of shivers down her spine. It was almost better to know exactly where he was than to imagine it. Her nerves strung as tight as they could go, Kolyn wished Ainsley would hurry. "Ainsley," Kolyn said, interrupting her conversation. "I think I'll walk on ahead if you don't mind?"

  "Of course, Kolyn. I'll catch up to you. I'll not be long." Kolyn set her sight on the gate into the courtyard and walked as fast as she could without actually running. Dwight stepped out in front of her, and she collided with him, his arms keeping her from falling. "Do not touch me," she hissed beneath her breath, trying not to draw anyone's attention as she twisted away. "You are a fool, Dwight."

  "Aye," he agreed. His voice was flat, but his eyes told her what to expect next. "I'm a fool for you, lass."

  He reached for her again, but she put her hand up to stop him. "Touch me and I'll scream. Every man in Stonehaven will come, perhaps even Ian. You'd best leave while I am feeling generous enough to let you go unharmed."

  "Generous," he sneered, his lips twisting into a frown, creating an ugly look of hatred. "You are so innocent. I'll not let you go, Kolyn. Marriage or not. You are mine, now and forever."

  Angry words came to her lips, but he left before she could utter them. Ainsley came up behind her. "There." Ainsley smiled. "I wasn't so long, was I?" "No. You arrived in time." Ainsley's look turned curious, but she didn't ask Kolyn to explain. They walked the rest of the way home in silence.

  Before Kolyn had time to dwell on what had happened, she was home and lying in bed. Ainsley quietly closed her door, leaving her to nap. At first, Kolyn thought it silly to rest during the day. But it was only a moment before her eyes drooped and sleep overtook her, despite her mind's activity. "Kolyn."

  She opened her eyes, the dream so real she found it difficult to bring her mind back from it. "Drew," she whispered hoarsely. "'Tis Ian." Ian sat on the bed and pushed her tangled hair out of her face. "You've been dreaming, Kolyn." Finally she realized where she was and who she was speaking to. She sat up. "What are you doing in here?"

  Her question had come out accusing, sharp. She had not meant it to. She turned away from him, embarrassed that he found her so disoriented. ''Who is Drew?" A tremor went through Kolyn, a tremor of dread and horror. "No one."

  "You were sobbing and crying his name. That is what made me come in." She said nothing
.

  "You don't cry out no one's name." Kolyn remained silent. What could she say? Ian grasped her by the shoulders and shook her, his frustration showing in his fierce look. "How can we truly be man and wife if you keep things from me?"

  "We can never be man and wife," she screamed, stopping him. "Don't you see that?" "No," he ground out between clenched teeth. "Don't be a fool, Ian. It can never be." He stared at her, unbelieving. Kolyn would not give in to his look. Ian's hand slid from her shoulders and down the length of her arms, his hands warm on her flesh. He didn't stop. His hands moved back up to her neck. His fingers massaged her muscles, relieving the tension along the ridges. She began to relax, his persistence making her feel languid. His hand pulled her close, his lips nearing hers.

  Kolyn could smell his musky scent, his breath sweet like wine. His teeth were white against the dark tan of his face, a faint line of bristle starting to show on his cheeks. She had never seen him shave, and had the urge to shave him herself. To feel the strong curve of his jaw in her hands as the razor slid over each inch, scraping the remnants of his beard away.

  She wanted to feel his lips on hers, but he held back, teasing, tempting. Licking the dryness from her own, she leaned forward, their lips nearly touching. "Do you love Drew, Kolyn?" His voice was soft, seductive. "Yes, very much." Kolyn didn't even realize what she had said, not even what he had asked, her mind preoccupied with his touch. Ian pulled away.

  "You love this man called Drew?" Confusion shook her, bringing her back to what he said. "What?" "You said you loved Drew. Supposedly a no one." "Y . . . you . . . tricked me," Kolyn stuttered, unable to comprehend what she had said as anger took away all other thoughts but one. He had tricked her. But worse, she had fallen right into his arms.

  "Who is this man?" She pushed Ian away and scrambled from the bed. "Get out!" Ian stood and walked over to her. "Who is this man?" "Get out!" She felt as if she would explode with anger, and began to push at him. "Get out of my room." "Your room," he yelled back. "I do believe it is my room." He was right, but it didn't matter. "It's my room now, and I've asked you to get out." "Ask all you like, my lady. I'll leave when I damn well feel like it."

  She gave him another shove, but he did not move an inch, his great height towering above her. Kolyn began to pound on his chest in earnest. "You better damn well feel like it now." Ian crossed his arms over his chest, her attempts to evict him useless. She struck out, slapping him across the face, the sound loud. Kolyn could feel the blood drain from her face, and she stepped back. Caution finally made its way into her mind, bringing with it the sense she needed.

  His eyes darkened dangerously. She took another step back instinctively, to protect her from his anger. She turned to flee, but his arm snaked out and grabbed her about the waist, pulling her back to him. "Leave me be," she whimpered, anger no longer forging her courage. He lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the bed. He tossed her on it, and she sank down into the soft mattress. Like a sinking swimmer, she struggled to gain her balance and get up.

  Before she could do so, Ian was there, his muscled length lying beside her. His long legs captured her, bringing her struggles to a halt. He laughed, soft and low, his eyes alight with mischief. His slender fingers played with her blouse, pulling it free of its ties, the fabric sliding down, revealing her shoulder to his gaze.

  His lips were hot on her flesh, moving up to the curve of her neck. Kolyn felt her own heat renewed, fast and unrelenting. She tried to ignore it, to will it away, but failed miserably. It controlled her, consumed her. It started in the pit of her belly, causing a tightness between her legs. She closed her eyes against the look in his eyes, the look that told her he had control and he knew it.

  She hated him. No, she loved him. "Do you want me to leave, Kolyn?" Kolyn opened her eyes. Victory lightened his golden ones. "You are cruel, Ian." "Aye." He smiled wickedly. "Tell me you want me to stay." She wanted to throw his words in his face but couldn't. Kolyn was beyond going back. "Don't go."

  Her words came out so softly Ian almost wondered if his own longing had created them. But when he reached out to stroke a soft cheek, flushed with desire, he saw it in her eyes. She wanted him to stay.

  He lowered his head to kiss the silken lips he'd dreamed of so often. Kolyn opened her mouth to let his tongue explore, to taste the sweetness inside. He pulled her closer, anxious to feel her against him, flesh against flesh.

  His kiss moved down to her slender neck, to one breast, then another. They seemed fuller, firmer, motherhood filling out her body for his child. Never had he felt so fulfilled, so aroused. Quickly, he pulled her clothes off, revealing to his gaze the rounding of her stomach, so slight, yet apparent to his keen eyes. Gently, his hands felt the swell, the marvel in every touch.

  Ian kissed her belly, her flesh quivering beneath his moist lips. Kolyn thought she might go mad with his persistent examination, each tender touch leaving her breathless with wanting. Finally, she pulled him up to her, her fingers tearing at his breeches to remove them. He helped her, and in seconds he lay naked beside her. Her lips sought his, demanding their attention. He gave it.

  At that moment, nothing else mattered. Promises, threats, vowsit all melted away in the light of something stronger, more demanding. She wanted only one thing, one man. Ian quietly slipped from the bed and pulled his clothes on. He looked down at Kolyn as she slept and felt a pang of guilt assault him. They always seemed to be at odds, yet their passions could surpass their fighting and bring them together. But when it was past, the truce was over. This he regretted with every part of his being.

  He stood for the longest time just watching Kolyn sleep, her slumber deep and undisturbed. His thoughts returned to what had brought him to her room to begin with, her cries alarming him as he had walked by. The dark circles that lined her eyes told him her sleep was fitful, and he wondered what haunted her. Was it this Drew she had called out for?

  Jealousy slithered into his brain and took control of his emotions. She had confessed to loving Drew, and this made Ian's heart tighten painfully. Who was this man? And why had she lied about him when Ian asked? Questions rolled about, twisting into a horrible knot in the pit of his stomach. Unable to bear it any longer, he walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The dream came upon her again, awakening Kolyn from her deep sleep. It was so real, so frightening, she couldn't discard the emotions it triggered. Awake now, alone in her dark room, she continued to see Andrew, fear in his eyes, his arms outstretched to her. He called for her to help him, but she was unable to.

  Something deep and stirring gripped Kolyn, a fierceness so great it startled her. This same feeling guided her, pulling her from the bed. She put a robe on, but still didn't know what prompted her. Giving in to its power, she allowed it to guide her, to take her from the room and out into the hall. Slowly, she moved to the next doorway. Ian's room.

  She opened the door and silently maneuvered in the darkness. When she stood beside his bed, she hesitated, not fully understanding what she would do. Her eyes had adjusted to the room's light, and she looked about, instantly spotting his dagger on the night table. It was where he always kept it, easy to reach should he ever need it. Kolyn studied it, the long handle glistening in the dark.

  Kolyn stretched her hand out, touching the intricate markings. It felt cool, while she felt a strange heat moving inside her. She felt vicious, ugly. Her hand slowly wrapped about the dirk, her grip strong and unwavering. Power surged through her as she thought of Andrew.

  If Ian had not cast his son aside with his hatred of Blair, Andrew would not be in danger now. Even the fact she would never have been a mother to him would be more acceptable than what she was being forced to do now. She must kill to save her son's life. She knew she would do anything to protect Andrew, even take a life. Wouldn't she?

  This thought surprised Kolyn, drawing the air from her, sucking the smallest bit of doubt from her with it. She despised herself, yet it made no difference. M
otherhood dominated all else. It was stronger and more firmly rooted in her than this new and confused feeling of love.

  She closed her eyes and lifted her arm to strike. Visions of Andrew calling to her haunted her creating a will that moved her. Ian stirred. She hid the knife behind her back. "Kolyn?"

  Her mind snapped, and emotions flooded in. She ran the gamut fear, hate, love, anger, confusion. They all mixed and ran headlong into one another. She could not speak, she could not run, she was frozen, body and soul.

  Reaching up, Ian touched her cheek. It was like a shock, moving her back a step. "What's wrong, Kolyn?"

  She felt the table at her back and laid the dagger down. Kolyn shook her head. "Nothing," she finally whispered.

  An alarm sounded in Ian's head, as it did when he was facing danger. Yet he pushed it aside, not wanting to acknowledge Kolyn could be the cause. "Why are you in my room? Something brought you here. What is it?"

  "Nothing," she repeated woodenly. Ian ran his hand down her arm. She felt cold. "You'd best get back to bed. You're freezing." "Aye." Kolyn turned away and left the room. He watched her leave, then sat up in bed. The alarm still sounded in his head, and he quickly searched the room. His gaze settled on the night table and his dagger. Ian's heart sunk. Kolyn had moved it. Disappointment was quickly replaced with anger. What was she about?