He lifted me off the floor and pressed a long, lingering kiss to my lips, his long red hair forming a flaming halo around his grinning face.
It amazed me that an evening that had started with such horror could end with so much joy.
***
Later that night Alastair and I awoke to the sound of insistent pounding on the chamber door. The room was still dark, with no sign of the early morning sun on the horizon. We must have only been asleep for a few hours.
"Sir, miss, ye must come quickly," came Donald's harassed voice through the door.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and hurried to dress myself in my nightgown before wrapping a plaid around my shoulders for modesty's sake. Alastair dressed in naught but his kilt, and opened the door to face a red-faced Donald.
"I'm sorry to have awakened ye, but there's been a messenger. He insisted that I wake ye both at once. He's brought a package with him."
"Where is it?" Alastair asked him as we quickly followed him.
"In your study. Gregory is watching the messenger in there as well," Donald explained.
"Did he say who it came from?" I asked.
"No, my lady, he didn't. But with the threats against us I thought it best to keep him here for questioning for the time being."
The lamps had been lit in the study by the time we arrived and a short young man cloaked in black sat in one of the leather chairs. Gregory, the clansman who had been with us in the library when Camden had been brought before me, was watching him suspiciously.
"Who are ye, and what brings ye here in the middle of the night?" Alastair asked the stranger, dispensing with the niceties.
The man—a boy, really, for he looked little older than seventeen years of age—stood and looked toward the wooden box that sat on the large desk.
"I was sent here with a message for ye, MacGregor," he said.
"And just who is this message from?" Alastair asked him.
"I have no name for ye," the boy told him.
"Do ye expect me to believe that you rode here to deliver me this message without knowing from where it came?" Alastair took a menacing step forward and glared down his nose at the boy. "Or maybe ye simply require some persuading to tell me what ye ken?" he asked quietly.
The boy swallowed audibly but did not back down. I admired his courage, but it would not help him if Alastair decided that he was a threat. The safety of the clan came first, always. And now we all had to be more careful than ever.
"Ye do not scare me, MacGregor," the boy said with only the barest of quivers in his voice. Then, suddenly, moving quickly, the boy produced a knife and slashed out at Alastair.
Alastair lifted his arm to defend himself from the strike and the knife slashed into his forearm. Ignoring whatever pain the wound must have caused, he moved without hesitation, and reaching out with both hands he took hold of the boy's head and twisted it sharply to the side, effectively snapping his neck.
I watched wide-eyed as the lifeless body of the boy fell to the floor. My eyes traveled from the boy to Alastair and back again, my heart full of sadness. This was not the first time I had seen Alastair take a life. He had protected me from another like him, a man cursed with the wolf, paid by Allina to assassinate me. But I had never seen him take a human life before, and for it to be one so young, even if the boy had been an assassin, shook me.
"For them to send a boy to try to kill me," Alastair said, shaking his head. "They had to know he would fail." He looked down at the boy's body, an expression of extreme regret on his face.
"I dinna think he was meant to succeed," said Gregory. "More likely he was meant to be another mark against ye. A spark in this war they're determined to bring to our door."
"Aye, Gregory, you're probably right," Alastair said, his voice tight with frustration. He walked around his desk and opened drawers until he located a handkerchief, which he pressed to his arm to stanch the blood flow.
"What about the box?" I asked. I walked over to the large, hinged box and placed a hand lightly on the lid.
It was well crafted. The wood was a deep, rich brown and well oiled. The metal hinges were of an intricate knotted design, and there was no mistaking the fact that it was obviously very valuable.
"Shall I open it?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at the three men. My fingers were already tracing the seam around the edge of the box and I began to lift the lid.
"Glenna, wait," said Alastair, but it was too late.
I tossed the lid back and looked down. "My God!" I gasped.
The men came over to examine the contents of the box.
"Damn them!" Donald yelled, kicking the desk in his anger. Then, glancing over at me, he added, "Pardon my language, lass."
The palms of my hands had gone damp but I reached over and grasped his hand anyway.
"Damn them," I whispered in agreement.
"Come away, Glenna," said Alastair.
"No," I told him as I continued to stare into the box. I could feel something inside myself hardening at the sight of it, as if an invisible wall were being built around my heart. It had truly begun. They were coming for us. And with this declaration of war, I knew without a doubt that I would do whatever it took to defend my new family and fight by their side.
The wolf had been a natural-born one, not someone with the curse. I knew this not only due to the comparatively small size of the wolf's head resting in the box, but by the fact that it was the head of a wolf. If it had been a clan member, then the body would have reverted to human form upon death.
We could breathe a little easier in the knowledge that this was not someone we had known sitting before us. It was a small consolation in the light of things, but a welcome one.
"Why is it covered in tar?" I asked, confused. The wolf's fur was tangled and matted, liberally streaked through with black.
Alastair leaned forward and inhaled. "To mask the scent," he said. "See how the inside of the box is coated in it as well? He pressed a finger to the inside of the wooden box and tested the tackiness of the dark substance. "The tar masked the smell of the wolf. The boy never would have gotten inside the keep otherwise."
"Do ye think that's why it was so difficult to track Camden and whoever was helping him with the murders? They were covering up their scent like this?" asked Gregory.
"They must have been. It's the only thing that makes sense," agreed Alastair.
"I want you to do it now," I said quietly.
"Are ye sure this is the time?" Alastair asked, understanding my meaning completely.
"There will never be a better time," I told him. "Do it."
"Donald, Gregory, I'd ask ye to excuse us, please."
"No," I said, stopping them before turning back to Alastair. "I would have them witness this. I want there to be no doubt. No question."
"It would be an honor, miss," said Donald, bowing low to me.
"Aye," said Gregory, giving me a sharp nod.
Alastair looked at me with a mixture of hope and trepidation in his eyes as he began to remove his plaid, slowly unwrapping the pleated folds of his kilt. I could feel the warmth rising in my cheeks. I had seen him get undressed countless times before, and I had watched as he and his men disrobed and shifted as a group. But this, now, in the hushed silence of his study, seemed even more intimate than all of those times put together, especially with both Donald and Gregory looking on.
Alastair looked into my eyes as the last of the fabric fell away and landed with a soft thump on the study floor. I held his gaze intently as he began to shift, until standing before me was a giant black wolf.
The beat of my heart kicked up as I looked at him. My fear of him in his animal form had been dispelled long ago, but as I gazed upon him now I could not help focusing on the sheer size of his massive jaws. He had to bite me with those jaws, and I did not see how he would be able to manage it without removing one of my limbs completely.
"Hop yourself up on the desk there, lass, and shift to the side a bit so he
can get your thigh," Donald offered, sensing my concern.
I swallowed and nodded. I sat on the edge of the desk with my legs dangling over the edge and turned to the side.
"Now, if you'll just, umm... lift your skirts a bit," he continued. His face went just as red as I was sure mine was. "A little higher, now. There ye are."
The gathered fabric of my skirt pooled at the top of my thigh, exposing the entirety of my leg. I stared down at the unmarked skin of my thigh and then looked to the wolf that was Alastair. He padded forward slowly but stopped before reaching me. Waiting, he tilted his head to the side, as if to ask one last time if I was sure that this was what I wanted. I held out my hand to him and he closed the distance between us, allowing me to run my hands over the familiar, comforting feeling of his fur.
When I had first arrived, the wolf had been my only friend, my companion as well as my guard, and I had come to care for it. Then, when I learned that the wolf was Alastair, I came to love the man. Neither man nor wolf had ever hurt me nor brought me harm, and as I touched his soft coat, I knew that there was naught to fear from him now.
"I'm ready," I told him, my voice strong and sure.
The wolf threw his head back and howled, then moved very quickly and wrapped his jaw around the soft flesh of my upper thigh. Pain like fire shot through my leg but I did not cry out. My hands clenched into tight fists and my nails dug into my palms but I did not make a sound, and his sharp teeth were gone from me almost as quickly as they had broken the skin.
Dazed, I looked down at the bite and noticed that it was surprisingly shallow as blood began to well up. Donald and Gregory hurried forward, but I shook my head. I did not need their help. Grabbing the edge of my wrap, I pressed it to my leg, stanching the flow on both sides.
It was over. I was bitten. I couldn't believe that it had finally happened.
"Glenna," came Alastair's voice.
The sound of his voice made me jump. I had not even noticed that he had shifted back.
"It is done," I whispered in wonder. "I thought there would be more pain, but it is passing already. The bite almost feels cool now."
Alastair looked stricken, and I noticed Donald and Gregory exchange quick glances.
"What is it?" I asked. "What is wrong?"
Alastair gathered me into his arms and held me tightly, pressing my face against the warm skin of his chest.
"I am so sorry, Glenna, my love, but it is not over yet," he said into my hair.
"What do you mean? I am bitten..." I trailed off as the cold in my leg began to intensify and spread. "Alastair?" I asked uncertainly.
"I am sorry!" he cried through clenched teeth.
The cold grew and tore through me like the fierce bite of winter, burning me from the inside, but the very worst of it was centered in my thigh, a cold that burned so intensely that I was sure the flesh would melt from my bones and fall to earth as chunks of ice.
"Alastair!" I screamed as I clutched at him, shaking uncontrollably.
All I could feel was ice and fire as my body shook and jerked, and then the world went black.
***
I awoke to the welcome feeling of a cool cloth pressed to my forehead. I was unbearably hot and shifted uncomfortably.
"There now, love. You'll be all right now," crooned Alastair in a low, hushed voice.
I reached for him and he grasped my hand, then kissed it over and over again.
"I am very hot," I croaked. My voice was raw and hoarse, my mouth dry.
"It will pass. The fever is breaking," he reassured me.
"How long have I been like this?"
"Three days," he told me. "Your fever was much worse than I anticipated. We are so close to the full moon. I should have waited until it had passed."
"No, I am glad that we did it now. We can be together for always now."
He smiled at me, his eyes filled with love, and set the cloth aside.
"Glenna, ye mean more to me than words can ever say. I never thought the day would come when I would find the woman who completed me, and then one night there ye were. I would have gladly gone to the ends of the earth for ye if it meant that we could be together."
"I know you would have. But I love you too much to ever ask you to make that kind of sacrifice for me. Do not regret what has happened here, Alastair, please. I wanted this."
He shook his head and leaned over me, pressed a soft kiss to my lips, then rested his forehead against my own.
"I don't know which is greater, lass, the guilt I feel about the pain I've caused ye, or the guilt I feel about how joyous I've been these past three days, even as ye lay here suffering. Because I knew that ye would awaken and be mine, and that not even God in heaven could take ye from me now."
I grabbed Alastair's face in my hands and let the joy pour out of me as I kissed him. I understood his words completely, because I felt the same way. There was nothing in heaven or on earth that would be strong enough to tear us apart. A storm was coming for us, that much was certain. But we would face whatever was in store for us side by side.
COMING SOON!
Don't miss the final part of
Glenna and Alastair's story in...
THE CLAN MACGREGOR – BOOK 3
Craved
by the
Highland Wolf
OTHER BOOKS BY STEPHANIE MARKS
THE CLAN MACGREGOR SERIES
CLAIMED BY THE HIGHLAND WOLF
SILVERLAKE CITY STORIES
HIDDEN FALLS
HUNTING CRIMSON
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Taken By The Highland Wolf (The Clan MacGregor Book 2) Page 7