Born to Bite Bundle

by Hannah Howell

  Adeline stumbled and fell to her knees, the pain in her head blinding her for a moment. She cried out when Osgar was torn from her arms. The three men ran even as she tried to get to her feet, determined to go after them. Lachann would come, she told herself as she swayed on her feet, her vision clearing but the pain making her dizzy and nauseous. All she had to do was try to slow the escape of the men who had stolen Osgar so that Lachann could reach the men in time to save the child. She staggered forward a step and prayed she could regain her wits and strength in time to accomplish that.

  Lachann hefted his sack of supplies more firmly onto his shoulder and almost grinned. He knew Adeline thought he had crept into the village to steal what they needed and he had let her think it. When they next halted their journey he would tell her the truth, that he had paid for everything. Old Beaton was a man the MacNachtons often dealt with on their travels. The man never asked why they came buying goods at such odd hours, nor did he talk about them. It appeared that his son was more than ready to continue that tradition, which would please the laird of Cambrun.

  His good humor faded as he made his stealthy way out of the village. Adeline was tying him up in knots. He had never wanted a woman as fiercely and constantly as he wanted her. MacNachton men were taught to control the passions that could ride them as hard as the need for blood, but every time he looked into Adeline’s wide green eyes he grew hard with need. The warmth in her gaze told him that she returned his need and that made it almost impossible to fight the urge to take her, to make her his woman. The urge to mark her as his own was so strong it made his teeth ache, and that was what worried him the most.

  “Fool,” he muttered. “Ye ask her to trust ye but ’tis clear that ye dinnae want to trust her in return. And just what has the poor lass done to make ye so wary, hmm? Taken to her heart one of the Lost Ones, a Blooded Son who takes a wee sip of her now and then? Saved the wee laddie’s life and put her own in constant danger? Left her own home to take the lad to a place many Outsiders say is naught more than a room in hell filled with demons? Ah, aye, such a treacherous lass she is.”

  He needed to stop blaming Adeline for the sins of others like Anne. Lachann knew he also had to accept the fact that she was fated to be his mate. He knew all the signs, had heard all the tales. Every MacNachton was told the ways to recognize his mate. His fierce need to mark her after only a kiss was hard proof that Adeline Dunbar was his. It was not going to be easy to explain it all to her when he finally gave in to the need gnawing at his innards. And it was definitely when, not if.

  The sound of Adeline cursing yanked him from his thoughts. Lachann fought the urge to forgo all stealth and caution and rush to her side. She was in trouble, and charging blindly into the midst of it would not help her. He moved with more speed but held fast to the silence needed to surprise an enemy. The sound of Osgar crying nearly broke his control.

  By the time Lachann reached the place where he had left Adeline and Osgar he was eager for a fight, bloodlust pounding in his veins. Seeing Adeline swaying on her feet as she staggered in an attempt to go deeper into the wood only increased that eagerness. He put down the sack of supplies and grabbed her when she started to crumple to her knees. Osgar’s crying faded in his ears as fear for Adeline consumed him. He cursed viciously when she faced him and he saw the blood running from a wound on the side of her head.

  “Ye are injured,” he said, the need to hunt down the ones who hurt her and his fear making his voice a harsh growl as the beast reared up within him.

  “ ’Tis but a scratch,” she said as she steadied herself. “Head wounds always bleed freely.”

  “Where is Osgar?”

  “They took him. Three men. That way.” Adeline weakly pushed him toward the thicker section of the wood.

  His fear for her receding when she sensibly answered his questions, Lachann could once again hear the men running through the trees and Osgar crying. He abruptly kissed Adeline and then started to hunt down the men who had stolen his child and hurt his woman. For the space of a heartbeat Lachann was startled by that thought. His child. His woman.

  Then he realized that it was the truth, the truth he had been foolishly fighting since the moment he had seen them, seen her. Osgar was his child and Adeline was his woman. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders to finally accept that. Now he would see that the men who had hurt Adeline and stolen Osgar never left the forest alive.

  The moment the men caught sight of him they separated, each running in a different direction, and Lachann cursed, knowing he would not be able to fulfill his vow. The frustration that surged through him nearly made him howl. He fought down the demands of his beast and set out after the man who held Osgar. Just as he came within reach of his prey the man turned and threw Osgar at him. Lachann easily caught the boy and watched the man run as if all the demons in hell were barking at his heels. The fool would be right if Lachann dared to put down the child clinging to him and go after the man, but he knew he could not do that.

  “Did they hurt ye, Osgar?” he asked the shaking, sniffling child as he rubbed the boy’s small back.

  “Nay, but one of them hit Maman and she fell down,” replied Osgar, rubbing his hands over his tear-stained face. “We got to go help her.”

  “I ken it.” He sighed and muttered, “But I truly wished to kill those fools.”

  Osgar patted his cheek with his small, damp hand. “Ye can do that after we help my mither.”

  Lachann bit back a laugh. “I think we had best get her somewhere safe first.”

  “Aye. Men shouldnae hit lassies.”

  “Nay,” agreed Lachann as he hurried back to where he had left Adeline. “Men shouldnae try to hurt wee lads, either, but I fear nay all men learn those rules.”

  The sight of Adeline sprawled on the ground made Lachann’s heart leap up into his throat. He put Osgar down and hurried to her side. The sound of her steady heartbeat made him nearly weak-kneed with relief. When he knelt by her side and looked at the gash on the side of her head some of that relief faded, however. Even small head wounds might bleed freely but, upon a closer examination, this one looked like a great deal more than a scratch.

  “Did ye see what the mon hit her with, Osgar?” he asked the child.

  “A big rock,” replied Osgar as he sat down on Adeline’s other side and patted her hand.

  Lachann cursed softly.

  “Is it bad?”

  “I ken little about wounds, but it doesnae look good to me,” admitted Lachann.

  “We can give her some blood. That always makes my hurts go away.”

  “She isnae one of us, Osgar.”

  “So it willnae help her?”

  “It will, I think, but she may nay like it.”

  “I dinnae like some of the things she gives me when I hurt or cough, but she stills make me take them. I can give her some of my blood.”

  “Nay, if I think she needs it, I will give her some of mine. Now, let us bathe the wound and put a bandage on it. Do ye think ye can get me a clean rag and a wee bit of water?”

  Osgar nodded as he scrambled to his feet. “I ken where she has her mending-people bag.” He ran toward the ponies with a speed and grace that firmly held Lachann’s attention for a moment. “I think I begin to ken why his father made him a Blooded Son,” he murmured, recognizing that the ritual marking had given the boy a lot of survival skills most young children did not have.

  The moment Osgar returned with the bag and some water, Lachann tended to Adeline’s wound. When she did not rouse or even moan as he bathed and bandaged her injury, he grew worried. One thing he did know about head wounds was that they could do a lot of damage that one could not see. The whole side of her face was already bruising, the colors livid, and that also troubled him.

  “Can ye ride the pony without help, Osgar?” he asked the boy.

  “Aye, but I needs to go slow,” Osgar replied.

  “We dinnae have far to go, lad, and if ye ride close t
o me I can lend a hand if ye have trouble.” Lachann picked Adeline up in his arms and then gently set her back down again so that he could settle Osgar on the pony and secure the bag of new supplies. “Nay, I think I will lash your reins to my horse so that all ye have to do is hold on.”

  “Maman did that once. Have ye mended her?”

  “We will see.” Lachann wanted to see Adeline awake and talking sensibly before he offered the child any assurances.

  By the time they reached the cave where they would shelter for the day, Lachann had no assurances to give the boy anyway. He did not like the way Adeline’s breathing had grown unsteady, or the slower pace of her heart. With every yard they traveled she had grown weaker. Something was wrong. The blow to her head had done more than simply knock her senseless and open a gash in her scalp.

  Lachann had Osgar spread some blankets on the floor and gently set Adeline down on them. He quickly built a fire and settled the animals. By the time he returned to her side, he knew he was going to have to do something more than bathe her wound and hope for the best.

  “She is verra sick,” said Osgar in a quiet voice as Lachann handed him some cold chicken, cheese, and bread.

  “Aye, laddie, she is,” Lachann replied. “Sometimes when a person gets hit in the head it can do things inside them that just keep on making them sicker and sicker.” He helped himself to some food and a hearty drink of cider. “As soon as I have filled my belly, I will do as must be done if she hasnae gotten any better.”

  “She willnae get angry.”

  “Ye cannae be sure of that, can ye? Ye havenae given her any of your blood to heal her, have ye?”

  “Nay. She has ne’er had anything save a wee scratch or bruise.”

  Seeing how the child’s bottom lip trembled, Lachann patted Osgar on the shoulder. “Dinnae look so afraid, lad. We ken how to help her and we will do it, will she, nill she. I think we are strong enough to endure her being angry, dinnae ye?”

  “Och, aye. She just yells a wee bit, nay more.”

  Lachann doubted Adeline yelled at the little boy very much at all, although he held little hope that she would restrain herself from yelling at him. He was going to make her take some of his blood even if she did sound and look a little improved by the time he had finished eating. The fact that she had gotten worse at all was enough to convince him to do it, and chance her anger, even her disgust.

  When he returned to her side, Lachann was almost glad to see that she had not improved. It gave him a good reason for what he was about to do, one she could not argue with. He suddenly smiled, knowing that Adeline could argue about anything.

  Gently biting his wrist, he held it against her mouth. If he could not get her to take any of his blood this way, he would mix some in cider and force it down her throat. Lachann would rather not do that but, as he waited for her to react to the moisture on her mouth, he knew he would. Adeline would survive. She would recover from this wound hale and as sharp-tongued as ever, he vowed to himself.

  After a moment so long it felt like an hour, her mouth moved against his wrist. Lachann firmly grasped her chin with his free hand and tugged on it, forcing her mouth open enough for the blood to drip in. She made a face much like a child forced to swallow bitter medicine and he relaxed a little. Adeline had to be aware in some part of her mind if she could react like that.

  The feel of her mouth against his wrist, the stroke of her tongue as she lapped at what her mind thought was much-needed moisture, made his innards tighten with need. He knew sharing his blood could be a sensual experience, as he had had a few lovers amongst the MacNachtons, but he would never have thought that giving his blood to an insensible woman could be so. It was. Too much so. He was almost sweating from the heat rushing through his body. Lachann suspected that if Adeline suddenly woke up and smiled at him, he would be on her like a starving wolf.

  Lachann gave her only a little blood before he forced himself to pull away from her and lick at his wound until it began to close. He looked at Osgar, who sat down beside him, leaning on him lightly. The boy was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open.

  “Ye need to rest, lad,” he said as he stood up and began to make a pallet for the child.

  “Maman will get better, aye?”

  “Aye. I have nay doubt about it.” He smiled at the boy. “She is too stubborn to do anything else.” He did not hesitate to give the boy hope this time, for he had seen far worse wounds on an Outsider mended by a few sips of MacNachton blood.

  “Then may I sleep in the wee room o’er there with Meg and Tom?”

  A quick glance into the far corner of the cave revealed a deep, narrow niche in the wall. “Ye will be far away from the fire.”

  “I ken it but it doesnae matter. I can see weel in the dark.”

  Lachann nodded and went to make the boy a bed inside the niche while Osgar relieved himself and cleaned his teeth. After carefully looking over the opening to the cave and the tunnel at the back to assure himself that both were well sealed with rocks, he released the cats. He and Osgar laughed as the animals raced around the cave with such exuberance he was surprised they did not bounce off the walls. After he got the giggling Osgar settled in the poor bed, the cats quickly curled up around the child and Lachann made his way back to Adeline’s side.

  “Ah, lass, ye have raised a fine lad,” he murmured. “He will have no trouble finding his place within the clan. Neither will ye but I have the strongest feeling that ye will need some convincing ere ye will believe that.”

  Chapter Six

  Another cursed cave, Adeline thought as she woke to find a stone ceiling over her head. She sucked a breath in through clenched teeth as she became aware of far too many bruises and pains. Her body felt as if someone had tossed her around a room and made certain that she hit every wall.

  “Adeline?”

  She looked to her right to find Lachann seated by her bed of blankets. “Osgar?” she asked, her fear for the child rapidly building as she recalled what had happened in the wood.

  “He is fine,” Lachann assured her. “He is sleeping in his own wee room but feet away.”

  “Room? But are we nay in another cave?”

  “Aye, but there is a small room cut into the rock. Osgar claimed it as his room. The cats are in there with him.” He patted her hand when she looked at him in alarm. “They cannae get out of here.”

  “If we can get in, they can get out, Lachann.”

  “Nay. The way we came in is now fully covered with large rocks, the sort I can move but many another mon cannae. The only openings are small cracks to allow air in and the smoke of the fire out. There is a wee bolt-hole in the back of the cave but it is also completely covered with rocks. I am nay sure where it leads.” He grimaced. “Should have studied the maps more closely.”

  “Maps?” Adeline asked, although she was distracted by how much better she was feeling except for a very odd taste in her mouth.

  “Aye. We carefully map each route, the shelters that lie along it, and the places where we can get new supplies.” He carefully touched the bandage on her head. “How does your head feel?”

  Adeline thought about that for a moment and then frowned. “Nay bad. And all the aches and pains I woke with are already fading away. The blow I took on the head must nay have been as bad as I thought it was.”

  Lachann briefly contemplated not telling her about what he had done and then quickly cast the thought aside. Osgar would soon tell her if he did not. He took a deep breath as he prepared himself to make his confession. How she reacted to what he had done would settle whatever last doubts he had.

  “I gave ye a wee bit of my blood,” he said. When he saw only confusion on her face, he continued, “One of the MacNachton differences is that we heal quickly.”

  “Aye, I have seen that in Osgar. ’Tis wondrous,” she said.

  “Weel, we have discovered that our blood can help to heal Outsiders as weel.” He sighed, his hope that she would fully accept him shat
tering as her curious expression turned to one of utter horror and fear.

  “Sweet heavens, Lachann, ye best be verra careful who learns of that.” She shook her head slowly. “It chills me to the bone to think of the danger that would put ye, and all of the MacNachtons, in.”

  He had been an idiot, he thought as he smiled at her and carefully removed her bandage, not surprised to find the injury healed. Adeline’s horror and fear were all for what could happen to him and his clan. Lachann decided that he needed to think more on the matings between Outsiders and MacNachtons that were good, solid, and happy, instead of only on the bad ones. He had committed the sin of prejudging her, just as so many people prejudged the MacNachtons, fearing and hating them without even trying to come to know who they were.

  “ ’Tis naught to smile about, Lachann,” she said as she cautiously sat up, noticing that she was feeling better by the moment. “Ye would have trouble with far more than the Hunters if word of how your blood can heal e’er spread. Everyone would be after a MacNachton just to make use of your blood, to cure themselves or their loved ones, or to sell to make themselves wealthy and powerful. I shudder to think of the tortures that would be visited upon ye and your people. They would tap ye like a barrel of ale.”

  Lachann leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then smiled into her wide eyes. “We ken it. We are all verra careful. We have e’en killed to keep our secret, although the ones who died deserved their fate for far more reasons than that. Several of my clan are now carefully studying the matter. My laird’s wife wonders if it works only when given freely, willingly, when there is a bond between the giver and the taker.”

  “A bond?” Adeline sternly told herself not to let her own needs and desires make her foolish, make her see more behind his words than there was. “Ye think we have some sort of bond between us?”

  “Aye, I do.” Lachann struggled to think of some way to explain without touching upon the fact that he was certain she was his mate, all his doubts about that having faded away with each passing hour. “Do we nay flee the same people? Do we nay face the same dangers? Are we nay both feared and distrusted by Outsiders? Do we nay both love that wee lad, would willingly die to protect him? I think all of that makes for a verra strong bond between us.” She could not completely hide her disappointment over his answer and that delighted him. “Do we nay feel the same need, the same desire, for each other?”