Deadly Darkness Page 3

  “Rafe , ” she sighed.

  “I’m here. I won’t leave ye.”

  “Is this real? It feels real.”

  Rafe placed Adaira’s hand over his heart. “Aye, ’tis real.”

  Relieved, she inhaled the serenity around her and exhaled the remnants of the nightmare.

  4

  RAFE HAD SEEN a lot of death in his time, but nothing compared to watching someone wither under the weight of fae magic. He held Adaira in his arms as she slept and lightly stroked her arm. A full day had passed since he witnessed the last wave of poison ripping through her body. As time went on, the better her chances of survival.

  She would be the first to beat it. Rumors said no one could withstand the pain, let alone face the demons that plagued the mind of the unfortunate soul suffering from the poison. His heart’s queen fought like a warrior.

  Mesmerized by Adaira’s beauty, he caressed her cheek. She sighed, and he stared at her red lips. He brushed his thumb ever so gently across her bottom lip. The bitterness of their last kiss still lingered on his tongue, reminding him of the day she left Dornoch without saying goodbye. He touched his forehead to hers. Her skin was cool. The fever was gone. He breathed in her intoxicating scent. It brought him back to a warm, spring day in the glen where the wildflowers bloomed. Aye, the smell of sunshine.

  He closed his eyes and leaned in further to kiss her. He brushed his lips against hers, then felt an uncomfortable squeeze against his ballocks.

  “Kiss me again and I’ll squeeze harder until they pop.”

  Rafe swallowed hard, then opened his eyes. Adaira’s cold, dark glare rendered him speechless. She was awake.

  “Rafe, why are we naked and in bed together?”

  He removed her hand from between his legs. “Now, I can talk more freely.” He cleared his throat. “I found ye in my tent two days ago. Ye were cold and had been poisoned by the fae. My body heat was the only way to

  keep ye warm.”

  “I’ve been here for two days?” Adaira sat up, tucking the fur around her chest.

  “Aye.”

  “I’ve wasted too much time. I must leave.” Adaira climbed over Rafe to get out of bed. She searched the tent for her clothes. “Where are my clothes?”

  Rafe stood and donned his plaid. “Ye aren’t going anywhere. My men out there have orders from Cormag to bring ye back to Dornoch for his son’s murder.”

  Adaira turned and faced Rafe, folding her arms across her chest. “Aye, I should have known the laird would send his dogs after us. How much is my head worth?”

  “’Tis not like that, Adaira.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  “Ye’d be happy to know Masie is safe.”

  Adaira’s eyes widened. “Of course she is. I left her at Ravens Landing.”

  “Nay, lass. My men had her and Commander Kerr surrounded in a cottage about three days’ ride from here. Thankfully, I caught Masie first and brought her to safety. She’s under Clan Gunn’s protection now.”

  “Ye mean to inform me that the loyal commander of the Honor Guard didnae turn her over to Cormag?”

  Taken aback by her angry sarcasm, Rafe tried to understand why she still didn’t trust him. It was absurd for her to think he’d harm her sister. He’d risked his life and betrayed his pack to save Masie. “Nay. I’d hope ye’d think better of me. I wouldn’t hurt Masie.”

  “What am I supposed to think, Rafe, when the Honor Guard is under Cormag’s thumb?”

  He clenched his jaw; ‘twas a challenge to stay silent. Being the wolf he was, his tempter ran hot. “Ye have some nerve, woman. At least my pack is loyal which I can’t say about ye, can I?”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “What were ye and yer sisters doing in Ravens Landings? They are our enemies.”

  Adaira slinked closer. “Ye’re jealous, aren’t ye?”

  Rafe ignored her ridiculous accusation and walked past her to a trunk sitting in the corner of the tent. Adaira followed him. “Ye think I left Dornoch to bed Laird Gunn, bear him wee bairns, and live happily ever after?

  Ye’re a fool of a wolf.”

  A fool? Aye, he was a fool for loving an uncontainable creature. Rafe spun around and grabbed Adaira’s shoulders, glaring into her eyes. “I saved yer sister and now I’ve saved ye. But ye still question my loyalty. Who’s the fool?”

  Rafe left her speechless as he let go of her arms. He turned back to the trunk and pulled out a tunic and trews. “Here.” He tossed the clothing to Adaira. “These should fit. Ye won’t find yer dress. I burned it. I didn’t want the remnants of fae filth in my tent.”

  Adaira raised a black brow. “Ye let me in.”

  “Nay, ye trespassed.” He grabbed a wrought iron pot and strode out of the tent.

  The damn woman knew exactly how to get under his skin. He strode over to a pile of fresh fallen snow and filled the pot, then placed it on the fire.

  Why did he keep torturing himself, believing Adaira would ever change her stubborn ways and accept him as a lover? How many times did she have to push him away before he got it through his thick skull that no matter what, Adaira wouldn’t love him?

  Mayhap, she was smart for keeping her distance. Mayhap, he should do the same. The only thing that mattered now was keeping Adaira’s pretty head attached to her neck while they found the true murderer.

  The tent flap rustled and Rafe turned toward the noise. The air in his lungs seized as he watched Adaira walk out of the tent. Her long, black hair was pulled back into a braid and hung over her shoulder. Even in an oversized tunic and trews, the lass looked beautiful.

  “Adaira.” He walked up to her and grabbed her arm. “Ye cannot be out here. Someone will see ye.” He tugged her back inside the tent.

  “Let go of me.” She yanked her arm free.

  “I can’t allow ye to leave. If one of my men sees ye, they won’t hesitate to take ye to Cormag.”

  “So be it.” Adaira raised her hands, surrendering. “I’m turning meself in.”

  Was she mad?

  “What are ye waiting for? Take me to Cormag. Either I turn meself in to one of yer men or ye can do it. Either way, I’m going back to Dornoch.”

  “Are ye daft, lass? Ye’ll be hung. I will not be responsible for yer death, Adaira.” He turned away, hiding the rage bubbling inside.

  “Rafe.” His name on her lips was spoken so softly. His bicep flinched as

  he felt her cold hand wrap around it. “I must return home and clear me sister’s name.”

  Rafe exhaled a frustrated breath. “Please tell me ye’re not responsible for Beathen’s death.”

  “Nay, I didnae murder the laird’s son.”

  Rafe turned back around. Her dark stare pierced his heart. “What happened that night?”

  “I wish I knew. All I know is what Masie told me. She said she saw Leana lying naked with two men in the blacksmith’s shop. Both were dead with puncture wounds on their necks.” Adaira began to pace. “I begged them no’ to go to the festival, but Masie wanted to pray for Mum. Leana, well, ye know how she is.”

  “Aye, she has a wild streak.”

  “Rafe, I want to believe Leana had nothing to do with Beathen’s death.

  But in order to find out what happened that night, I need to go back home and search the blacksmith’s shop. I can no’ run from Cormag and the fae queen any longer.”

  Her desperate plea tore at his heart. He understood her need to protect her sisters. Hell, he’d brave the fires of hell to keep his family safe. “Lass, I cannot allow it. If something happened to ye—”

  “Please, I need time to clear our names.”

  “And what if ye can’t? What if Leana committed the murders? Then what, Adaira?” Frustrated, he shoved his hand through his hair. “Ye and yer sisters will be found out. Cormag is already suspicious about yer true nature.

  This is madness.”

  “I didnae have a choice.”

  “Aye, ye do.” He cupped her face. �
��Let me keep ye safe. Let me deal with Cormag.”

  “This is no’ yer fight, nor is it yer choice. I’m the oldest, and it’s me duty to protect Masie and Leana. Being the Alpha of yer pack, ye should understand me decision. I’m going back to Dornoch with or without ye.”

  Adaira walked away, heading out of the tent. If Rafe wouldn’t take her as prisoner, she’d turn herself in to his pack.

  “There’s no changing yer mind, is there?”

  Adaira halted. She turned and shook her head.

  “Ye are one stubborn lass. I cannot let ye do this alone.”

  Adaira smiled. “Have faith. I’ll find the truth, then find Leana.”

  Aye, he didn’t doubt her determination; it was himself he doubted. He’d failed once in protecting the one he loved. Reliving that pain would be the death of him. As long as he kept his mind on the mission and his cock locked away, Adaira might have a chance at keeping her head.

  5

  RAFE PUSHED Adaira to the ground in front of his pack. “The Keith wench has finally been caught.”

  Adaira glared up at the salivating dogs surrounding her and hissed. The hatred in their eyes burned straight through her. “Aye, I thought I smelled the stench of Cormag’s dogs.”

  A tall man dressed in armor unsheathed his sword and approached her.

  He snatched her up by her hair and held his sword against her neck. “That would be Laird Cormag to ye, murderer.”

  “Ranger,” Rafe warned. “Let her go. She’s no good to us dead.”

  Adaira looked at Rafe. It hurt him seeing her being treated this way, but she couldn’t risk his pack becoming suspicious about her capture. No one could ever find out that she’d been right under their noses for the past two days. She’d do whatever it took to protect Rafe’s loyalty to his pack. He had taken a huge risk for her and she wouldn’t let him down.

  Rafe stood behind Adaira. His hot breath wisped over her ear. “This is yer last chance to run, lass.”

  She breathed in his comforting scent. “Not a chance, Wolf.”

  “Have it yer way.” Rafe motioned for Ranger to join him. “Tie her up good.”

  With a cunning grin Ranger nodded.

  “William,” Rafe called out. “Bring the cage.”

  In front of her, one of Rafe’s men, on horseback, halted his steed. Behind the horse a cart was attached carrying an iron cage. Adaira swallowed hard.

  Iron. For a brief moment she regretted her decision not to run. She was still

  weak from the fae poison; the iron would only weaken her more.

  The cage door creaked open and Ranger pushed her inside and closed the door behind her. “This ought to hold ye.”

  “Pray it does, because if no’, yer throat will be the first I rip out.” She grinned at him.

  He grabbed her arm through the bars and yanked her close. Her skin burned as her arm touched the iron bars. Shite, the one thing Baobhan sith’s feared the most, iron. Long exposure to the deadly metal would kill a blood drinker. Or, for the queen, it was a way to keep Adaira in line. She’d felt her skin melt away too many times. She didn’t need these wolves finding out her little secret.

  The smell of stale mead lingered between them. “’Tis best ye keep yer mouth shut, blood drinker.”

  Adaira hissed, displaying her fangs. “I do no’ scare easily, dog.” Even though Ranger showed no fear, the way he swallowed told her he was a frightened, wee lad.

  Rafe rode up next to them. “Ranger, is there a problem?”

  “Nay, my lord.”

  “Then stand down.”

  “Aye.” Ranger nodded to his Alpha and retreated into the pack.

  Adaira didn’t miss the glare he threw at Rafe as he strode off. That wolf was trouble, for her and possibly Rafe.

  “Give yer word that there won’t be any trouble, Adaira. I cannot afford to lose more men.”

  “Then control yer dogs.”

  “Brother.” A woman wearing armor and holding a shield rode up to Rafe.

  Adaira never knew he had a sister.

  “Teg sent me to inform ye he’ll be here shortly. Something about a scent he’d picked up from the north.”

  Adaira met Rafe’s concerned gaze and knew they were thinking the same thing—Teg was hunting Leana.

  “How long has he been gone?” Rafe asked.

  “Most of the morn.”

  “Very well, we’ll head north. I’m leaving the prisoner in yer hands.”

  “Aye.”

  The woman eyed Adaira with a familiar silvery glare. There was no denying her similarities to Rafe. They both had dark hair except hers was

  missing the gray streaks. She was tall and lean and looked ready for battle in her impressive armor.

  Adaira noticed the intricate wolf head design on her shield. It was the same design on the warriors’ breastplates and on the banners the lower ranked guardsmen carried. There was much pride in this pack. In a way they reminded Adaira of her sisters and mother. They, too, had been unwaveringly loyal to each other and proud of who they were.

  She missed her sisters dearly, and knowing she couldn’t protect them hurt. But that would all change soon. Mayhap, they were on Leana’s trail and were close to finding her.

  The jarring of the cart in motion threw Adaira to the back of the cage. The cold, iron bars seared her flesh through her cloak and tunic. She was careful not to show pain, because the last thing she needed was the wolves to find out they could torture her with iron.

  On the second day of travel north, the weather turned brutally cold. The snow had no intention of stopping any time soon. Relief washed over Adaira as a village came into view. She could only hope that Leana’s scent had led them here and her sister was safe inside. But Adaira knew better than to hold on to false hope.

  Rafe motioned for the pack to halt. He dismounted and approached Ranger. Adaira moved to her knees, trying to overhear what the men were saying, but the howling wind made it impossible. Rafe nodded at Ranger, then he walked toward a tavern.

  With Rafe gone, who would call off his dogs if one of them tried to challenge her?

  Adaira pulled her hood up for extra warmth and sat in the middle of the cage waiting for Rafe to return. She felt like a little bird surrounded by salivating dogs waiting to eat her. She smiled; their barks were much worse than their bites. No one was going to kill her. Besides, Cormag wanted that pleasure.

  “Ye see, love,” Ranger strolled next to the cage, the devil in his eyes. “He won’t always be around to protect ye.”

  Adaira kept silent.

  “Look at me, wench.” Ranger shook the cage. “I know the Alpha fancies ye, but I’ll be damned if we all burn because of a blood drinker.”

  “Step away from the prisoner.” Rafe’s sister walked up to Ranger with her hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword.

  Ranger grumbled something indiscernible before he trudged away.

  Rafe’s sister opened the cage door. “Did he hurt ye?”

  Adaira shook her head.

  “Give me yer word ye won’t try to run and I’ll let ye out.”

  “In this weather? I would no’ make it far before I froze.”

  “Give me yer word,” she demanded.

  “Aye, ye have me word.”

  The woman helped Adaira down. She stretched, appreciating the chance to stand. Two days in the cramped space had worn her down. She hadn’t fed in quite some time. A Baobhan sith deprived of blood was dangerous.

  Hunger dominated her emotions, making it difficult not to eye the woman’s vein pulsing in her neck. Adaira licked her lips, struggling to control her instincts.

  “Rafe said that the barkeep would allow us to stay at the tavern until the weather cleared.” Rafe’s sister untied her hands.

  “Thank ye.” Adaira rubbed her wrists. Why was she being nice to her when everyone else hated her?

  “Come.” She nodded toward the tavern. “Warmth and ale awaits.”

  Adaira gladly followed.

>   “I’m Seren,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Adaira, the blood drinker yer kind hates.”

  “Don’t take it personally. They even hate their own kind.”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “’Tis part of a wolf’s nature, something ye wouldn’t understand.”

  By the look on Seren’s face, Adaira decided not to press the issue.

  Instead, she’d stick to her plan to get back to Dornoch.

  They made their way inside where most of the pack had sat down to a warm meal and ale. She followed Seren through the throng. Adaira noticed how most of the men averted their gazes as they walked by looking for a place to sit. The tension was thick, unnerving Adaira. Why were they acting this way toward Seren? Adaira accepted the hatred Rafe’s people felt for her; it was natural. However, Seren was kin, the Alpha’s sister and a fellow warrior.

  A spot cleared at one of the tables and Seren motioned for her to sit. A man seated nearby glared up from his bowl and snarled, sliding further down the bench.

  Before Adaira could ask questions, a skinny lass with a stained apron

  approached the table with two bowls. She couldn’t be more than five and ten, Adaira thought. The poor thing shouldn’t be here, not with a room full of restless, drunk wolves.

  The girl placed the bowls on the table. “There be more in the kitchen.”

  “Thank ye,” Seren said as she ate a spoonful of stew.

  “Lass.” Adaira leaned forward and right before she was going to ask her name, Ranger crept up behind the girl and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her breasts.

  Adaira watched in horror as the lass struggled to get away. Ranger was too powerful for her to fight off. The swine was going to end up hurting that lass, Adaira knew it. She had to stop him.

  About to show the wolf her fangs, Seren seemed to read her mind and stood, brandishing a dirk. “Let the lass go, Ranger. She’s only a child.” Seren shoved the blade against his neck.

  Ranger hissed in anger but let the girl go.

  “Ye are not to touch that child or any other woman in this tavern. Do I make myself clear?” Seren warned.

  Ranger laughed at her. “The only thing keeping ye safe is yer brothers.