Highlander Oath of the Beast (Highland Promise Trilogy 3)

She hurried to obey that command, needing a bit of a distance between them, his innocent touch disturbing her in far too many ways she couldn’t explain.

He walked around to the other side of the bed and slipped beneath the covers. “You understand the wisdom of my words, don’t you?”

“As much as I don’t want to admit you’re right, I do understand the wisdom of your words,” she said, annoyed it made sense.

“I am pleased to hear that and now there is something we need from each other for this to succeed.”

“Trust,” she said before he could.

He turned on his side, his hand going to the curve of her waist to ease her on her side to face him. “Tell me what I must do for you to trust me, wife?”

Her skin tingled where he touched her and she did her best to ignore it, but it was far from easy. “First I’ll hear what I must do for you to trust me.”

His response was delivered without a bit of hesitation. “Confide and share all with me as you do with your men. There will never be trust between us if you don’t.”

She might have argued with him if she hadn’t learned to trust enough to confide and share. “I will agree to that if you agree to what I ask?”

“Tell me,” he urged, eager to seal their agreement.

“Trust my word that I’ve been with no other man and do not wait to consummate our vows.”

Chapter 12

Raven walked to the village, dawn just breaking. It was quiet and cold, her boots sinking into snow just below her ankles. No flurries fell, but the snow wasn’t finished with them yet. She had woken almost an hour ago snug and warm in her husband’s arms. It continued to surprise her how comfortable and peaceful she felt with him wrapped around her. He’d been her enemy for so long, it was difficult not to see him any other way. And yet she didn’t feel that way when sleeping in his arms. She tried over and over again to make sense of it, but it eluded her.

Last night when he spoke of trust, she had no argument with it. They were wed and would spend the rest of their days together. And as Purity suggested, wouldn’t she rather her husband be a friend than a foe?

Unfortunately, they had failed to seal the bargain Wolf had offered, more precisely he had failed to agree. He had failed to say anything after she had told him what she expected from him if he was to trust her. She couldn’t say it hadn’t hurt—it had. And that in itself had surprised her. Why should she care what he thought? But for some reason it mattered to her. Perhaps the sting of his failure to agree was a silent statement of what he actually thought of her.

A woman not worth trusting.

The thought stung. Had his words that they work together meant nothing more than empty promises? She had seen enough of that as her journey as a thief. She had learned there was more honor among thieves than nobles and that wasn’t saying much. How then did one truly trust?

She wished the old man was still alive. She missed him so much. They had spent endless hours talking, debating, arguing. He had taught her well and his knowledge continued to help her survive.

The glow of a fire caught her attention as she approached the cottages where her men stayed. She shook her head and corrected with a whisper, “Live. Where they now lived.” She had to remind herself this was permanent—unlike most places they’d been—this place was now their home.

A cauldron hung over the fire pit, no doubt brewing something her men would be grateful for and they showed their appreciation in many ways to Greta for seeing them fed. She had noticed Fyn spent much time with Greta and her son Tait. The men teased him about it and he gave as good as he got, but never once had he denied it. It made her realize how much they had all sacrificed the last five years. This was their chance of finally having a permanent home and more if possible. She couldn’t deny them that, just as she shouldn’t deny herself.

But how did she do that wed to Wolf?

Raven approached the cauldron, needing the heat from the fire to warm her some, when Greta stepped out of the cottage and gasped.

“You startled me,” Greta said as she went to the cauldron. “No one stirs yet, though soon they will.” She added a handful of leaves to the cauldron.

“What has you up early?” Raven asked, though from Greta’s creased brow, Raven surmised worry was the culprit.

“Concern that Brynjar’s men are here. They are an evil lot.” She shuddered. “Brynjar hates failure in any form. His agreement with the old chieftain of the Clan Macara to wed his daughter Purity failed. He will not let his plans, whether agreeable or not, to wed Eria fail. He will come for her, though it is truly Wolf he wants.”