A Highland Wolf Christmas
Page 4
Something moved behind her, not just the branches blowing in the wind. She dropped her bag, the instinct to protect herself coming to bear, and swung around. Baird McKinley stood in the woods in his dark gray wolf form, along with his two brothers and cousin, also in their wolf forms. They had to have been waiting here for her. The deer must have caught wind of the wolves and panicked, fleeing the area and probably causing her accident—which infuriated her even more.
Baird watched her reaction before he made a move. He gave her an expression of appeal, like he still wanted to make up with her, his eyebrows arched, his eyes wide, not narrowed and threatening. Maybe he thought he’d have a better chance at convincing her in his wolf form.
Then again, she could imagine the four of them talking about her on the way here, suggesting ways to get her to capitulate, agreeing that he couldn’t let her slip into Argent Castle without one last-ditch effort to appeal to her.
Heart pounding, she knew how nasty Baird could be with others in his pack when he didn’t get his way. And with her, he wasn’t getting his way. Just the fact that he’d been waiting for her to arrive—especially when he had a show of force instead of just trying to see her alone? Not good.
She turned, grabbed her bag, and took off running through the virgin snow. She couldn’t make good headway while dragging her field pack. But if she dropped it so she could move faster, they could get all her stuff, including the keys to her car if they wanted to steal it. Damn, damn, damn.
That brought the memories flooding back of Baird’s kin stealing Cearnach MacNeill’s and his mate’s cars and other belongings, and stranding them in wolf form—at Baird’s direction. That was why she had dumped Baird’s butt at the altar in the first place.
Baird bolted in front of her and snarled and snapped, forcing her to lunge around to his right flank. She would have bitten him if her teeth hadn’t been clenched around the strap to her bag. His kin quickly surrounded her and she stopped dead. She watched Baird, her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Her gaze met his.
His brown eyes were hopeful that she’d give in. That she’d want to come back to him. So she was certain he wouldn’t attack. The other wolves continued to flank her, not allowing her to move in any direction. Their panting breaths appeared as frosty mist, carried away in the blowing wind. They waited for her to give in or bolt.
She wasn’t going with Baird, and she wasn’t standing here all day in the freezing cold, even though her wolf coat kept her warm. She had a meal and friends waiting for her at Argent Castle. Hating to, she let go of her pack.
All eyes were on her, all ears perked up, as the wolves watched to see what her next move would be. Wolves were good at reading the slightest body movements. So they would know exactly what she was going to do next as soon as she lifted her chin. She didn’t have much of a choice.
***
Guthrie MacNeill was helping his brothers and several other male kin carry the Christmas tree into the great hall when he thought again about Calla. “Have you tried calling her, Cearnach?” Guthrie asked.
Cearnach glanced back at him as they struggled to get the tree into the hall. “We’ve been kind of busy.”
“Snowstorm’s worsening,” Guthrie reminded him.
“I assumed she’d stay put,” Cearnach said, “until the roads are clear.”
Guthrie didn’t say anything, still worried about her, as he would be about anyone coming to the castle in bad weather conditions. Given all the trouble he and his clan had had with the McKinleys both before and after Calla left Baird at the altar, he was certain she’d have more trouble with Baird before long.
Guthrie took a deep breath. He shouldn’t be worrying needlessly. Cearnach had her number, and Guthrie would call to ensure she was still at home. Well, once he wasn’t helping to carry this monstrous tree inside.
As they got the tree situated, Julia hurried to inspect its location. She smiled and said, “Perfect!”
Guthrie was glad for that. Wolves could get hernias!
“Julia,” Heather, Guthrie’s cousin, said, nearly out of breath. “You got a message.” She handed her the phone.
Julia checked her text messages. “Oh my God. Calla’s stranded and on her way here in her wolf coat about five miles out. From the time of the text, she is probably about here, but somebody should go and make sure she’s all right.”
Guthrie was already stripping, not waiting for their pack leader, Ian, to decide who would go. His brother smiled a little at him, and then told their brothers Cearnach and Duncan to come with Guthrie and him, along with a few other men.
Just as Julia opened the door for them so that the men in their wolf forms could race across the inner bailey and out the open gates, they heard the howl of a she-wolf in distress. Guthrie and the others ran full out. His heart thundered as his blood heated with a fresh surge of adrenaline.
Chapter 2
Calla got out one good howl before Vardon, one of Baird’s older brothers, lunged at her. Her heart skipped a bit as she tried to jump out of his path. The snow and his sudden movement precluded that. He slammed into her and forced her onto her side.
Growling fiercely, she snapped at him with wickedly sharp canines meant to tear. Her heart was beating triple time. She wasn’t putting up with this.
He jumped back, avoiding her biting teeth and snarling at her. She rolled off her side to lie on her belly.
Baird was studying her, not making a move and not growling at Vardon, which would have told her he didn’t approve of what his brother had done. As usual, Baird was using his kin to fight his battles.
Baird watched her reaction before he made a move. He gave her an expression of appeal, like he still wanted to make up with her, his eyebrows arched, his eyes wide, not narrowed and threatening. Maybe he thought he’d have a better chance at convincing her in his wolf form.
Then again, she could imagine the four of them talking about her on the way here, suggesting ways to get her to capitulate, agreeing that he couldn’t let her slip into Argent Castle without one last-ditch effort to appeal to her.
Heart pounding, she knew how nasty Baird could be with others in his pack when he didn’t get his way. And with her, he wasn’t getting his way. Just the fact that he’d been waiting for her to arrive—especially when he had a show of force instead of just trying to see her alone? Not good.
She turned, grabbed her bag, and took off running through the virgin snow. She couldn’t make good headway while dragging her field pack. But if she dropped it so she could move faster, they could get all her stuff, including the keys to her car if they wanted to steal it. Damn, damn, damn.
That brought the memories flooding back of Baird’s kin stealing Cearnach MacNeill’s and his mate’s cars and other belongings, and stranding them in wolf form—at Baird’s direction. That was why she had dumped Baird’s butt at the altar in the first place.
Baird bolted in front of her and snarled and snapped, forcing her to lunge around to his right flank. She would have bitten him if her teeth hadn’t been clenched around the strap to her bag. His kin quickly surrounded her and she stopped dead. She watched Baird, her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Her gaze met his.
His brown eyes were hopeful that she’d give in. That she’d want to come back to him. So she was certain he wouldn’t attack. The other wolves continued to flank her, not allowing her to move in any direction. Their panting breaths appeared as frosty mist, carried away in the blowing wind. They waited for her to give in or bolt.
She wasn’t going with Baird, and she wasn’t standing here all day in the freezing cold, even though her wolf coat kept her warm. She had a meal and friends waiting for her at Argent Castle. Hating to, she let go of her pack.
All eyes were on her, all ears perked up, as the wolves watched to see what her next move would be. Wolves were good at reading the slightest body movements. So they would know exactly what she was going to do next as soon as she lifted her chin. She didn’t have much of a choice.
***
Guthrie MacNeill was helping his brothers and several other male kin carry the Christmas tree into the great hall when he thought again about Calla. “Have you tried calling her, Cearnach?” Guthrie asked.
Cearnach glanced back at him as they struggled to get the tree into the hall. “We’ve been kind of busy.”
“Snowstorm’s worsening,” Guthrie reminded him.
“I assumed she’d stay put,” Cearnach said, “until the roads are clear.”
Guthrie didn’t say anything, still worried about her, as he would be about anyone coming to the castle in bad weather conditions. Given all the trouble he and his clan had had with the McKinleys both before and after Calla left Baird at the altar, he was certain she’d have more trouble with Baird before long.
Guthrie took a deep breath. He shouldn’t be worrying needlessly. Cearnach had her number, and Guthrie would call to ensure she was still at home. Well, once he wasn’t helping to carry this monstrous tree inside.
As they got the tree situated, Julia hurried to inspect its location. She smiled and said, “Perfect!”
Guthrie was glad for that. Wolves could get hernias!
“Julia,” Heather, Guthrie’s cousin, said, nearly out of breath. “You got a message.” She handed her the phone.
Julia checked her text messages. “Oh my God. Calla’s stranded and on her way here in her wolf coat about five miles out. From the time of the text, she is probably about here, but somebody should go and make sure she’s all right.”
Guthrie was already stripping, not waiting for their pack leader, Ian, to decide who would go. His brother smiled a little at him, and then told their brothers Cearnach and Duncan to come with Guthrie and him, along with a few other men.
Just as Julia opened the door for them so that the men in their wolf forms could race across the inner bailey and out the open gates, they heard the howl of a she-wolf in distress. Guthrie and the others ran full out. His heart thundered as his blood heated with a fresh surge of adrenaline.
Chapter 2
Calla got out one good howl before Vardon, one of Baird’s older brothers, lunged at her. Her heart skipped a bit as she tried to jump out of his path. The snow and his sudden movement precluded that. He slammed into her and forced her onto her side.
Growling fiercely, she snapped at him with wickedly sharp canines meant to tear. Her heart was beating triple time. She wasn’t putting up with this.
He jumped back, avoiding her biting teeth and snarling at her. She rolled off her side to lie on her belly.
Baird was studying her, not making a move and not growling at Vardon, which would have told her he didn’t approve of what his brother had done. As usual, Baird was using his kin to fight his battles.
