The Wolf and the Highlander (Highland Wishes) (3 page)

“What the bloody hell?” Aodhan said.

Somat clattered to the floor. Amidst the spinning, she glimpsed what had made the noise. The box. Though stationary on the floor, it streaked past, leaving a trail in her vision like a shooting star. Its lid was open.

The whirling floor changed from dust-streaked wood to dried leaves. The lantern-lit dimness of her da’s cottage changed to the gray light of either dusk or dawn.

“Anya! What’s happening
, lass?” Aodhan’s voice was distant.

“It’s the bloody box!” she cried. But the cabin was gone. Aodhan was gone. The spinning stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

She was surrounded by a thick gray forest. Cautiously, she sat up and searched her memory for clues as to where she might be. There were no forests this dense near Ackergill. The vines of ivy hanging from the mossy trees were like nothing she’d ever seen.

“Bloody hell.” The bloody meddling box. It had sent her who kent where. Mayhap across oceans. Mayhap across time, as Big Darcy’s wife had claimed.

Did that mean she was trapped here? Wherever here was?

A rusting noise drew her gaze around. A beast burst through some bracken and ran straight at her. A boar! A giant one! All great tusks and slobbering snout.

She screamed and scurried out of its path.

It charged past, grunting, its brown eyes glazed with panic.

Thank the good Lord it ignored her. Rolling to her side, she watched its hindquarters as it raced into the trees. She’d never seen anything like it before. Its coat was mottled like that of the calico cat she and Seona had kept as children. She doubted anyone would welcome
that
beast on their lap while they darned near the fire.

No sooner had the boar disappeared than more rustling made her look in the direction the boar had come. Two naked men crashed through the bracken, running at high speed. They were hairier than any man she’d ever seen before. And wilder. Their eyes fairly glowed with animal alertness.

Upon spying her, they skidded to a stop, both panting. One of them bent to brace his hands on his knees. They gaped at her for long seconds.

“The boar went that way,” she told them, pointing. Obviously, they were after the thing. She was eager to see them on their way. They did not appear the helpful sort.

One of them grinned at her. His teeth were bulky in his mouth, his eyeteeth especially. They were like daggers of bone. “Think we found something even better than marbled boar, yeah?” He nudged the other with his elbow.

“Must have escaped Bantus’s harem and walked here from Saroc,” said the other. That one had eyes the color of blood. These were men, but they weren’t like any men she’d ever seen before. “And she must have been there a long time to know our tongue.”

What were they blethering on about? Her escaping from some man’s harem? Made no sense. She’d only just arrived here.

The first man grunted in agreement. “Let the others have the marbled boar. If they can catch her. I’m more than happy to make use of our king’s leavings.” He cupped his cock and bollocks, leaving no doubt about his meaning.

They moved toward her as one.

Fear pounded through her veins. She struggled to get to her feet. Pain ripped through her left knee.

Saints above, she’d never be able to flee these men on her pathetic excuses for legs. She dug under her skirts for the dirk she kept strapped to her calf.
Och,
that’s right. She’d left it on her cot as meager payment for Gravois’ pony and gemstone.

She had nothing with which to defend herself.

The men towered over her. One of them reached for her, and his hand was tipped with black, pointed fingernails.

She screamed.

* * * *

Riggs tried not to think about the two measly foxes he’d had for breakfast instead of sweet marbled boar. Instead, he remained alert for signs left by the she-wolf. She wasn’t hard to track. All he had to do was follow the distinctive line the pole collar drew in the earth. She was taking him on a southerly route. At least she hadn’t turned west, taking him deeper into Larna.

A patch of hair on a thorn bush caught his eye. Several strands of white, a few of tan. He rubbed them between his fingers. The color and coarseness could mean only one thing. The marbled boar had crossed paths with the wolf. His spirits lifted. Maybe he’d catch the sow after all. That is, if she’d managed to elude the Larnians.

A few minutes more brought him to a moist creek bed, nearly dried up. The she-wolf’s prints stood out clearly, as did two sets of footprints that must belong to the Larnians chasing the boar. Unsurprisingly, the she-wolf changed direction, heading east out of the creek bed, toward Marann and his cabin. He followed the wolf prints.

A minute’s run brought him to a formation of boulders. Wedged between two rocks was the pole collar. The she-wolf was nowhere to be seen. She had managed to free herself.

Good. He squatted to rest. Should he continue east to home, or pursue the boar and risk running into a number of Larnians he couldn’t defeat?

A shrill cry to the south interrupted his thoughts.

What in the low realm?
That wasn’t the cry of either a boar or a wolf.

Curiosity piqued, he ran toward the sound. Before long, the low rumble of men’s voices touched his ears. He slowed, moving silently, cocking his head to listen.

“What are you doing?” one man said. “Stop toying with her.”

“I want to chase her,” another man said.

He heard a pained whimper. The she-wolf? No. She wouldn’t have let herself be caught a second time. Must be some other poor creature they were toying with. But no animal he knew of made a sound like that.

“She can hardly walk, you idiot. Look at that crippled gait.”

“Get up, you ugly cow,” one of the men said.

There was another pained cry. Then, “Ugly cow? At least I’m no’ a mangy cur! Get your filthy paws off me! Help! Help!”

By the moon. That is no animal.

It was something more valuable than a whole cart packed with marbled boar skins. A woman.

Snarling, he plowed through bracken and sailed over a formation of boulders. He rounded a thicket and found one Larnian standing by while another tried to mount a small woman in a faded blue dress struggling on hands and knees to get away.

The woman reared up, crashing her head into the nose of the pig atop her. It gave with a crunch.

“Aaargh!” The man shoved her down with a hand on the back of her neck, mashing her face into the leaves. “Broke my nose, the bitch did!” He struck the side of her head.

Riggs’s vision went red with rage.

He knocked the Larnian off the woman’s still form and tore out his throat before the pig could so much as raise a hand to defend himself. The foul taste of enemy blood filled his mouth.

Jumping to his feet, he faced the other Larnian. He bared his teeth in challenge.

The man was big and appeared fairly young for a Larnian. But Riggs was bigger and younger. Nevertheless, the Larnian didn’t run like the ones he’d found with the she-wolf. A woman was worth fighting a losing battle for.

They circled, sizing each other up. The Larnian had defeat in his blood-red eyes, but he kept his chin up, his gaze defiant. “We could both use her,” he said. “No one else needs to know.”

“You’ll touch her over my dead body,” Riggs growled. He made the first move, getting in quick and delivering a blow to the man’s side. He tried for a follow-up to the stomach, but the man danced away on fast feet. Riggs’s fist hit nothing but air.

They circled again. His opponent hunched around where Riggs had connected with that first punch. A few more of those, and he’d have the maggot beat.

“You kill me and take her, the others’ll track you,” the Larnian wheezed. “Think they’ll let a woman’s scent go unfollowed? You won’t get far.”

“I’m not afraid of a few Larnians.” Riggs went in for a punch to the face.

The man dodged, turning the blow into little more than a graze. He was fast. But Riggs could be fast too, when he needed to be.

“Not a few, yeah,” the man said. “I can see that. You’re a fucking beast. But there’s more than a few of us camped out here. We make good money catching she-wolves and selling them up in Saroc. We’re well supplied. Got horses and tracking wolves who’d be more than happy to cross into Marann and tear you limb from limb for such a prize. But enjoy the woman with me for a few days then walk away, and I’ll swear on my mother’s
grave to keep it secret. No one will ever know a Maranner was poaching on Larnian soil today.”

Yeah, right. Likely, this maggot thought to offer him the woman first and attack his b
ack while he was distracted. As if he’d give him the chance.

He flicked a glance at the woman. She
lay face down on the ground, too still. Enough of this. She needed help, and he was wasting time.

He charged the Larnian, a surprise move.

The man grunted at the impact and went down hard. Riggs slammed his fist into the maggot’s face, stunning him. Then he grabbed his head with both hands and gave a fierce twist.

It was over.

He rushed to the woman’s side. Instantly, her scent overwhelmed him. Sweet flowers, hyssop, and woman’s musk. She also smelled of horses and leather tack, of damp wool and mist. Glossy chestnut hair fell across her face, obscuring it.

Don’t be dead.

He crouched and reached a hand toward her. Pulled it back. She was so small. He was afraid to touch her.

He observed her instead, his gaze going to her back. It rose and fell with steady breaths. She was alive.

By the moon. He was in custody of a woman.

The tight coil of fury in his chest turned to wonder. It lasted only a moment before turning into a heavy weight of responsibility.

Shite. He was in custody of a woman.

“Where did you come from?” he asked. Of course she didn’t answer.

Gently as he could manage, he curled a finger around the silky strands of her hair and lifted them off her face. By the moon, her ear! It was rounded like a clam shell!

His heart pounded as he studied it, as he transferred his scrutiny to what he could see of her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted to reveal oddly blunt teeth, like a ewe’s. The graceful arch of her cheekbone looked as delicate as finely crafted porcelain. She wasn’t wolfkind.

“Where did you come from?” he asked again. She didn’t stir.

He touched a fingertip to her perfect eggshell cheek, careful not to scratch her. When she didn’t respond, he patted her cheek.

“Wake up.”

Still nothing.

Careful of his hands, so large compared to her thin arms, he rolled her onto her back. She went over limp as a freshly slaughtered doe. Her face turned up to the sky. Her loveliness froze the breath in his throat. Not even the old claw marks furrowing her left cheek could ruin such beauty.

Her eyelids appeared thin as vellum. He could make out the spider web network of vessels in the skin. Her cheeks looked like sunset, pale pink against her ivory-cloud paleness. Her lips were dark pink and full as dripping heart blooms.

His gaze roved downward, over the high neckline of her dress, over the mouthwatering swell of breasts beneath faded blue fabric. His whole body thrummed with sudden desire, which he resolutely ignored as he fixed his attention on those claw marks. Had this stunning creature been a plaything for the Larnians? Had some man marked her as his in this barbaric way?

No. He would smell mating on her if any man had had her recently. The Larnians must have found her moments before he’d heard her cries.

Shite. Larnians. In his shock over finding this treasure, he’d forgotten he was still in Larna.

He had to get her away from here. If the second maggot he’d killed had told the truth about this forest being populated by trappers with access to horses and tracking wolves, he’d better hurry. It took time to organize a tracking party. That would give him a head start. He’d need it.

He started to scoop the woman into his arms.

Her eyes opened. Her pupils contracted as she focused on him. She screamed.

He pressed a hand over her mouth. “Hush. Hush, now. Quiet.”

She continued to scream. Her tiny fingers with their blunt nails grasped at his arm. Her heels dug in the ground as she tried to get away from him.

“Hush, now! I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you! I’m not like them.”

The last made her stop screaming. Her eyes, dark brown, like the wary eyes of a doe, darted to the dead Larnians.

He released her mouth. “Easy, easy now. I killed them for you.”

She looked down the line of his crouched body, her gaze stopping on the evidence of his attraction to her. Her eyes grew wide, panicked. Shite, she was going to scream again.

He pressed a hand over her mouth again just in time. “Stop it,” he said over her muffled squealing. “There are more of them out here. If they hear you, it’ll be both our necks.”