He’d been teasing her, saying that he could hop from
boulder to boulder without getting wet, while she’d played with an old rope, pretending
to be fishing when no one in her clan would allow her to do such a thing.
With a shout of terror, he’d lost his footing on the slippery rocks and fallen into
the swiftly moving water. Numb with cold, he had tried to reach the shore but couldn’t.
He wasn’t all that old then, not as muscled, not as strong. She’d raced along the
bank, shouting his name and desperately throwing the rope out to him, hitting him
twice—once on the shoulder, once on the head—before he finally was able to grab hold.
She had quickly wrapped it around a pine tree and held on with all her might as he’d
climbed onto the shore, choking on water that had gone down the wrong way.
Then he had collapsed on the frost-covered ground like a fish out of water, gasping
for air.
Now it was his turn to rescue a she-wolf instead of a she-wolf rescuing him.
He was so close to Elaine that he could almost touch her. He didn’t want to startle
her, so he bumped her side to let her know he was there and would help her. She yipped
in surprise.
He woofed, letting her know it was just him. She cast him a quick look of relief over
her shoulder.
With his powerful legs, he swam beside her, steering her away from the falls and toward
the boulders littering the sides of the river. She slid over them, still unable to
gain her footing. He pushed her again, moving her toward the beach, his whole body
pressing against hers, offering a wall of muscle that she could lean against, protecting
her while he worked at keeping her from being carried over the falls.
Almost there.
She stumbled on the slippery stones, but he kept nudging her toward the shore, wishing
he could put an arm around her as a human or lift her out of the water and carry her
to safety. As soon as she reached the shore, she scrambled over the rocks and ran
straight for the trees, a spurt of energy apparently charging through her.
He shook the water from his fur, then hurried after her.
She shook herself as soon as she was in the woods. Sheltered from prying eyes, she
collapsed on her side in the creeping ladies’ tresses and twinflowers, panting with
relief and exhaustion, her wet mink fur clinging to her, her eyes closed. Fatigued,
soaked, and beautiful.
He joined her, thanking God that she hadn’t gone over the falls. He was also glad
that the farmer hadn’t managed to shoot either of them. He hoped the men would believe
he and Elaine had been big dogs, not wolves. Strict rules governed the keeping of
wolves in Scotland. If anyone truly thought that he and Elaine were wolves running
loose, a bounty might be placed on their heads. Shoot to kill. All of his kind would
be threatened then.
He lay down next to her and rested his head over her neck as if they’d been friends
forever. That she was his to protect from all dangers. She opened her eyes, gave him
a tired wolf smile, licked his cheek, and closed her eyes again.
He sighed and settled more comfortably against her, responding to the wolfish showing
of trust on her part in allowing him to rest his head there. Trust on his part also
that she wouldn’t snap at him to give her space. For the moment, he felt he had finally
accomplished what he’d hoped to do the first time he met her. Help her. Take care
of her.
But this time he realized he wanted to get to know her better. Take her home to his
family. Wine and dine her. Learn all he could about her. Keep her here. Permanently.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the wet wolf smell of her, basked in the warmth
of their bodies touching, and listened to her breathing growing steadier, sleepier,
until he was sure she had fallen asleep.
They weren’t too far from the castle now. Though he suspected that Ian would send
out the troops, worried that Cearnach hadn’t called to
boulder to boulder without getting wet, while she’d played with an old rope, pretending
to be fishing when no one in her clan would allow her to do such a thing.
With a shout of terror, he’d lost his footing on the slippery rocks and fallen into
the swiftly moving water. Numb with cold, he had tried to reach the shore but couldn’t.
He wasn’t all that old then, not as muscled, not as strong. She’d raced along the
bank, shouting his name and desperately throwing the rope out to him, hitting him
twice—once on the shoulder, once on the head—before he finally was able to grab hold.
She had quickly wrapped it around a pine tree and held on with all her might as he’d
climbed onto the shore, choking on water that had gone down the wrong way.
Then he had collapsed on the frost-covered ground like a fish out of water, gasping
for air.
Now it was his turn to rescue a she-wolf instead of a she-wolf rescuing him.
He was so close to Elaine that he could almost touch her. He didn’t want to startle
her, so he bumped her side to let her know he was there and would help her. She yipped
in surprise.
He woofed, letting her know it was just him. She cast him a quick look of relief over
her shoulder.
With his powerful legs, he swam beside her, steering her away from the falls and toward
the boulders littering the sides of the river. She slid over them, still unable to
gain her footing. He pushed her again, moving her toward the beach, his whole body
pressing against hers, offering a wall of muscle that she could lean against, protecting
her while he worked at keeping her from being carried over the falls.
Almost there.
She stumbled on the slippery stones, but he kept nudging her toward the shore, wishing
he could put an arm around her as a human or lift her out of the water and carry her
to safety. As soon as she reached the shore, she scrambled over the rocks and ran
straight for the trees, a spurt of energy apparently charging through her.
He shook the water from his fur, then hurried after her.
She shook herself as soon as she was in the woods. Sheltered from prying eyes, she
collapsed on her side in the creeping ladies’ tresses and twinflowers, panting with
relief and exhaustion, her wet mink fur clinging to her, her eyes closed. Fatigued,
soaked, and beautiful.
He joined her, thanking God that she hadn’t gone over the falls. He was also glad
that the farmer hadn’t managed to shoot either of them. He hoped the men would believe
he and Elaine had been big dogs, not wolves. Strict rules governed the keeping of
wolves in Scotland. If anyone truly thought that he and Elaine were wolves running
loose, a bounty might be placed on their heads. Shoot to kill. All of his kind would
be threatened then.
He lay down next to her and rested his head over her neck as if they’d been friends
forever. That she was his to protect from all dangers. She opened her eyes, gave him
a tired wolf smile, licked his cheek, and closed her eyes again.
He sighed and settled more comfortably against her, responding to the wolfish showing
of trust on her part in allowing him to rest his head there. Trust on his part also
that she wouldn’t snap at him to give her space. For the moment, he felt he had finally
accomplished what he’d hoped to do the first time he met her. Help her. Take care
of her.
But this time he realized he wanted to get to know her better. Take her home to his
family. Wine and dine her. Learn all he could about her. Keep her here. Permanently.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the wet wolf smell of her, basked in the warmth
of their bodies touching, and listened to her breathing growing steadier, sleepier,
until he was sure she had fallen asleep.
They weren’t too far from the castle now. Though he suspected that Ian would send
out the troops, worried that Cearnach hadn’t called to
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