Highland Shadows (Beautiful Darkness Series Book 1)
Page 7
“Whatever ye just did,” Jamie whispered behind him. “Don’t do it again.”
Alex closed his eyes, his mind spinning. He remembered Cora’s cries and the sound of her bones snapping. Bile rose in his throat. The beast must have ripped her body to shreds. The horror was too great to handle. He hadn’t been fast enough. He had failed her. His eyes opened and looked at the fierce claws inches from his face. His stomach twisted when he imagined those claws tearing into Cora’s flesh. Again the wolf growled, bringing his mind back to the present. He and Jamie were at the mercy of the murderous beast. If they did not do something soon, their blood would also be spilled.
Blood.
His eyes returned to the large, gleaming white paws. There was not a trace of blood. Keeping his head low, his eyes once more scanned the room all the while the beast’s low growl filled his ears. There were no signs of struggle and no blood anywhere. His eyes once more settled on Cora’s shredded gown. His body strained while he fought to remain still. Then his mind returned to their wedding night in the shelter. He remembered the jarring pain of her nails raking his back. His eyes returned once more to the large, sharp claws in front of him.
It was all he could do not to move.
“Jamie,” he whispered. “Slowly, and I do mean very slowly, back away.”
“Fangs are inches from your face. I dare not move.”
“Do as I say,” Alex gritted.
“I will not. I’ve no wish to see ye eaten before my very eyes.”
“As your laird I command ye to slowly back away and leave us.”
“Upon my word, I will not.”
“I’ll be alright,” Alex said. “I think,” he muttered under his breath.
“How can ye possibly think anything could be alright when the biggest wolf I’ve ever seen is literally breathing down your neck?” Jamie snapped.
The wolf lunged passed Alex, bearing its teeth once again at Jamie.
“Because ‘tis not a wolf. ‘Tis my wife.”
“Have ye gone mad?” Jamie cried.
“Trust me,” Alex said. “Now, back away.”
“I’ve sworn my allegiance to ye. I’ll not let ye kill yourself.”
“Your allegiance demands ye follow my orders. Leave.”
“Never,” Jamie promised.
Alex heard the intent to attack in Jamie’s voice. He pushed off the ground just in time to block the large splinter in Jamie’s hand from stabbing his wife and his wife’s slashing paw from maiming his friend. Instead, Jamie’s makeshift weapon plunged into his shoulder while Cora’s claws raked his chest. He cried out, landing in a heap, but he leapt once more to his feet, standing between the two. Reaching over his head, he pulled the shard of wood from his shoulder, and threw it back at Jamie.
“Enough,” he shouted. “Open your eyes. If this is not Cora, then where is she?”
Jamie’s eyes scanned the room, then settled on Cora’s dress on the floor.
“Leave us now,” Alex said.
“How can that possibly be—” Jamie began to say, but Alex cut him off.
“Go,” he shouted. “And speak to no one of what ye’ve seen.”
Jamie said nothing but planted his feet firmly in place.
“Fine,” Alex snapped, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “But squat down and lower your eyes.”
Alex turned back around and slowly dropped to his knees once more. His eyes narrowed on the ever present display of sharp fangs. With small movements, he inched forward, careful to keep his eyes low. His heart still raced, but he focused on quieting his breathing. Her growl deepened, which he took as a signal that he was close enough.
For a long while, he stayed in that spot, ignoring the pain of his injuries. Then he drew a deep breath and slowly reached out his hand, filling his mind with memories of Cora when they first met. She had stood up beside the empty hearth in her room, her blond hair sweeping the floor. He remembered her candid laughter and vulnerable shyness, which had touched him so deeply, and sparked the beginnings of an affection that brewed within his heart for his lovely but sorrowful wife.
From a dark corner in his mind, trouble emerged. He’d been tricked into marrying a demon sent to destroy them all.
The ferocity and suddenness of her growl shattered his imaginings, and he tasted the bitterness of his thoughts. He knew she had sensed his unbidden hostility. Exhaling, he expelled the poisonous accusation from his mind. Somewhere hidden deep within the deadly animal poised for attack was Cora. Despite it all, she was still his wife. He inhaled the heat of her breath, and listened to the sound of her uneasy growls. Then, suddenly, there was silence.
After a time, he raised his eyes. She sat before him, her snowy white head cocked to one side. They were eye level, though he intentionally did not make eye contact. He heard his mother’s voice echoing in his mind. Love. Respect. Faith. She would have opened her heart to Cora. This he did not doubt.
Inviting peace into his soul, he slowly eased his hand out. When she did not lash out, he stoked the tips of his fingers down the space between her eyes. Then he retracted his hand and held still. Long moments passed when suddenly she released a short bark and stepped forward, then skittered back. Again she approached him, but chose once more to back away. This dance continued until at last she nudged his chin with her nose.
A smile stretched his lips wide as he reached out and stroked the thick fur behind her ears. She sniffed his chest, and to his surprise she began licking his wounds. His eyes widened as he watched the bleeding quell and the welts begin to close. Then she walked around him and did the same to the puncture wound on his shoulder. It did not take long for the pain to ease, and then she circled back around and sat before him.
They locked eyes and at last he found her. Through a cloud of sadness and fear she was there, staring out at him, her pain palpable and urgent. Raising her snowy head, she released a howl, which cut him soul deep.
“Come back to me, Cora,” he whispered, inching closer. She lowered her eyes then and nosed his arms open, nuzzling into his chest. Bringing his arm gently under her belly, he strained beneath her larger size and carried her to bed.
“Ye may go now,” he said quietly to Jamie who stood transfixed in the broken doorway. “And keep everyone away until ye hear from me.”
At first, Jamie did not move, and so once again Alex bid him leave.
With a jerk, his friend’s senses appeared to return. “I…I cannot even begin to….”
“Jamie,” Alex urged.
“Aye. Right. Forgive me. I’ll leave ye to your…wife.” He stumbled out the door, making a quick retreat down the hall.
Alex sat on the bed beside the large animal and began stroking her thick, white fur. Her eyes were heavy. “Hush now,” he whispered. After a time, her side rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm. He stood and stared in shock at his sleeping wife. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. He could not for the life of him know what to do next, and so he did what seemed most natural. He climbed into bed and curled up against her soft warmth.
CHAPTER 10
Cora’s eyes eased open. The candle on her bedside table had burned down to a stub, the flame floating on the surface of pooling wax. Then in a puff of smoke the flame disappeared. On most days that was exactly what she wished for—to disappear. But as she listened to Alex’s heart beating beside her, and breathed deep his masculine scent, she was suddenly very happy to be alive. She shimmed back so their bodies touched. Expecting to feel his hard warmth, her breath caught when she discovered his icy limbs. She leaped out of bed. Her naked body came alive, awakened by the crisp morning, but Alex needed heat. She knelt beside the hearth, and for the first time in years, she arranged cuts of peat on cold, swept stones. It took her unpracticed hands several attempts to strike the flint just right, but soon she coaxed a small spark into a warm blaze.
She returned to bed and drew a wool blanket up to his chin. Then she did what she knew would warm him fastest. She crawled
beneath the blanket and pressed the length of her smoldering body against his. Easing her arm around him, she stoked his thick muscles. His skin was hard and smooth. Her hand swept across his taut, ridged stomach, causing his heartbeat to quicken. She jerked away, knowing her bold touch had awoken him.
“Nay,” he whispered, turning over to face her. “Come back. Ye’re soft and warm and…a woman.”
Pain he had not wished to cause shadowed her features as she turned and hid her face in her hands.
“Forgive me. I hoped a jest might put ye at ease. I can see I was wrong.” He tugged at her hands. “Please do not hide from me.”
She dropped her hands in her lap, and slowly lifted her eyes. “How are ye doing that?”
His brows came together. “What exactly am I doing?”
“Ye’re being kind to me. Ye’re acting like somehow everything is going to be alright.”
He sat up then and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Ye’re my wife. I’ll not pretend to understand what happened last night, nor will I claim to be unconcerned. But I will stand by ye just as I vowed.”
She turned away, feeling unworthy of his kindness. “Ye know I can tell when someone is lying. I can smell it. I can hear their heart beat faster. Every time my father told me everything would be alright, I knew he never truly believed it would, not once. But ye…” she swallowed hard. “Ye’re not lying. Ye really don’t mean to reject me.”
He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to her lips, which caused greater warmth to spread throughout her whole body. “Look at me,” he said. She turned and lost herself in the promise she saw in his mismatched eyes. He took her hand and pressed her palm against his scarred cheek. “Ye could have rejected me,” he said pointedly.
A mirthless laugh tore from her lips. “Ye cannot compare a little scarring to what resides within me.”
“Goodness is what resides within ye, goodness and light.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his mangled cheek. “I love that ye truly believe that, but ye’re wrong,” she said softly. Then she drew away and stood.
“Come here,” she said, pulling a tapestry away from the small window.
The sound of his footfalls crossing the room filled her ears as he came up behind her. She leaned against his chest.
“Look out over the moors and tell me what ye see,” she said.
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I see hills, a dusting of snow, fat sheep grazing thanks to my fine wife.” She followed his gaze down to the courtyard where children played and people milled about. “I see my clan doing what they’ve not done in many years, going about their morning with full bellies. Do ye not see that your coming has been an unspeakable blessing to my clan?” His hand grazed her cheek, but she stepped free from his arms.
“Ask me the same question,” she said.
His arms dropped to his sides. “Tell me what ye see?”
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Beyond the courtyard and the gate, beyond the outer wall and the curve of the road, beyond the hills that rise and fall and rise again, atop that most distant slope, I see a rabbit nibbling on dried grasses, poking up through the frost.” She felt him stiffen at her side. “I see the tracks of deer that ventured out into the open during the night to graze at the edge of the forest.”
She glanced up at him and watched his eyes narrow at he stared hard at the tree line in the distance. She shook her head, realizing he had barely begun to understand the woman he had married. “I see tracks from wolves that followed the deer in the night and attacked. The snow bears the stain of blood. I can still hear their howls echoing in my mind, calling to the wolf within me. It never sleeps. ‘Tis forever poised and ready to break beyond my control. It merely waits for me to feel.”
“Feel what?” he asked.
“Anything.” She gripped the window ledge. “Happiness, excitement, anger, sorrow, passion, fear. The emotion itself does not matter. ‘Tis the intensity that counts. If I feel too strongly, I can lose myself.”
He swung her around to face him. “The thought of that pain claiming ye again as it did last night makes me crazy. Does it hurt ye like that every time?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to. It only hurts if I fight it. My bones snap one by one. But I can change in a flash, if I do not resist.”
She could feel her heart begin to race. Sweat beaded her brow. She hasten over to the fire. “I’m sorry, but I cannot take the heat.” She knelt and smothered the flames with her hands.
“What are ye doing?” He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees, cradling her hands. She looked up at him and met his astonished eyes. Her skin was smooth and unblemished.
A smiled tugged at her lips. “It takes more than a small fire to hurt me.”
He thought of that first night after setting out from Dun Brae Castle when they had sought shelter from the night. She had tripped, cutting her arm and refused his care. Now, he at last understood why. Her body had already begun to heal. He glanced down at his chest. The claw marks from the night before had grown faint.
“Remarkable,” he breathed. He led her back to the window just as an icy breeze rushed inside. Returning to the hearth, he grabbed one of the large chairs.
“Sit,” he said, placing the chair down in front of the window. Then he turned away, crossing back to the hearth to fetch the other chair, but he froze. She was there waiting for him. His eyes darted back to the window where he had left her, and then he met her gaze once more. “But…” he began.
Another impish smile played at her lips. “Let me help ye.” She grabbed the chair by the arms and lifted it off the ground. His mouth dropped open as she carried the heavy chair with greater ease than even he had. He was tall with the sinewy brawn of a trained warrior. She was petite and delicate, and apparently, stronger than him. He studied her while she sat down before the window and closed her eyes, reveling in the cold breeze. He shook his head in wonder. Angel, wolf, healer—there was no limit to her depth, and amid a world so wicked, he thought that rather fine. Wrapping his shoulders in a blanket, he sat beside her. Questions weighed heavily on his mind, but he held his silence.
“I am better,” she said at last. “Now ye can ask the question that burns on your tongue.”
“Were ye born this way?”
She shook her head. “I came into this world the normal way and lived an ordinary life until that day, long ago it seems now, when I was traveling home with my sister and mother from Inverness.”
“I did not know ye were with them,” he said.
“Aye, I sat beside my sister, Isabel, in the carriage.” A wave of sadness rolled off of her tongue when she spoke her sister’s name. It settled in the air around them like black fog. “We were just ten at the time. She was my twin.”
Was.
The simple word struck his heart. “Tell me,” he said.
*
She tore her eyes away from the distant, blood-stained hill and looked at Alex. His heart was wide open. She took a deep breath. He deserved the truth. Closing her eyes, she allowed the pain to come to the fore as memory of that day crossed into the open…
Isabel’s golden head rested in Cora’s lap. Their mother sat across from them, poised and proper despite the heat and late hour. Cora absently fingered her sister’s thick golden braid as she turned to stare out at the moonlit countryside. They had passed several weeks in Inverness visiting father’s sister. William had chosen to stay behind not wishing to travel during the warmest summer month. Cora’s finger pulled at the wimple fitted around her head and at the long wool sleeves covering her arms. She decided then that her father had made a sensible choice. She longed to be home in her room where she and Isabel might strip down to their kirtles and sleep.
A horse and rider suddenly blocked her view of the shadowy hills. Cora leaned out the window and peered up at her favorite guard, Robert.
“How are ye managing with the heat?” he asked.
“Is there still much ground to cover?” Cora asked.
Robert’s warm, brown eyes glinted with mischief. “Do ye wish me to tell ye the truth, or would ye prefer I lie and say Dun Brae Castle is just around the next bend?”
She was about to ask him to tell her another of his adventurous stories to help her rest when all at once his countenance changed.
“Get down,” he hissed. He reached inside and yanked the curtain in place over the window.
A horseman on the other side of the carriage did the same. The thick velvet blocked the lantern light. Trembling in the darkness, she held her breath and listened. A bloodcurdling scream rent the air. The carriage skidded to a halt. Suddenly, vicious growls surrounded them, raging over the guards’ cries for mercy. Isabel jerked awake and locked eyes with Cora. She clasped her hands over her mouth. “God save us.”
The carriage shook. Kathryn reached for her daughters, but an unseen force ripped the door off its hinges. A guard fell face down on Cora’s lap. She gasped at the raw, bloody holes where his arms used to be. Isabel screamed. Cora shoved at the corpse, pushing it onto its back.
“Robert,” she mouthed the word, staring down into his lifeless eyes. Her mother’s arms came around her. She squeezed Kathryn’s neck, hiding her face from the horror. Screams and howls blasted her ears. Her heart pounded. She dared peek out just as a shadow with unnatural speed flashed inside and snatched her sister away. Kathryn shoved Cora back and lunged after Isabel, falling from sight. Cora seized, the breath sucked from her lungs. She flailed her arms, reaching for her mother. But she was gone. Cora couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t scream. Her heart lodged in her throat. The carriage jumped forward. She grunted, thrown back against the seat. She scurried from the cushion, stepping on Robert’s lifeless body, and leapt from the carriage, plunging into horror.