She was not losing her mind. Another wolf had growled behind them.She edged closer to Ronan as the wolf in front of them moved.
The beast’s ears perked forward, and she shifted her stance as though standing at attention. A low grumble clicked deep in her throat as she jerked her long, narrow muzzle first at Kenna and then back toward Ronan.
“Aye.” Ronan nodded as he drew Kenna out from behind him and hugged her to his side. “She is my mate and not to be harmed.”
Kenna glanced at the wolf, then swung her gaze up at Ronan. Was he actually communicating with it . . . uh . . . her? “You two understand each other?” She noticed that the wolf flicked her ear as though answering.
A sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes pulled at the corners of his mouth. He slowly dipped his chin in a single nod. “Aye. The great one and I know each other well. We share . . . ” His voice trailed off as though he had lost his train of thought. He blinked hard and scrubbed the heel of his hand against his temple. “Ye might say we share a cursed history.”
“A cursed history?” Kenna returned her dagger to its sheath. Somehow, it seemed rude to keep brandishing the weapon when the wolf merely seemed to be amicably standing its ground. For the first time, she noticed the gaunt leanness of the creature’s body and her very noticeable ribs. “She’s starving, and it’s not even summer yet. How can she possibly take care of pups as thin as she is?”
Ronan’s grasp tightened on Kenna’s elbow as he motioned with the other hand toward the hillside on the far side of the creek bed. His voice softened as he spoke to the wolf. “The lads have felled ye a fine stag,Máthair.The meat lies close to the place ye hide the wee ones. Go now. Sate yer hunger and the hunger of yer charges.”
Máthair.Kenna knew that word. Gray used it whenever he handed Chloe to Trulie. Ronan had called the wolfMother? The tingle of the unknown shivered across Kenna, pricking every hair on end. Was Ronan’s cursed history as odd and mystical as her own?
The great gray beast seemed frozen in time. Her icy stare locked on Ronan. Kenna held her breath, waiting for the wolf to move. The regal beast finally blinked, twitched an ear, then leapt to the far embankment in one fluid motion. Standing on the ledge of the washed-out stream, the gray wolf turned, stared back at Ronan, then yipped out a single deep bark.
Ronan nodded. “Aye. Take them to Draegonmare. The clan awaits yer return as eagerly as they wait for mine.”
The mother wolf pointed her nose toward the cloudy sky and released a chilling howl before melting into the landscape.
Kenna expelled the breath she had unknowingly held as the wolf disappeared like evaporating mist. “Who was that? What did you mean when you said you and that wolf share a cursed history?”
“Now is not the time for those explanations.” Ronan shook his head and gently pulled her forward. “Yer Colum has fought free of the drugged whisky. Make haste. Come speak with the man whilst ye have the chance.”
While she had the chance? The unspoken meaning behind that ominous phrase shuddered through her. Kenna hitched up her damp skirts and churned through the slippery leaves to get back up the hill. Damn the cold. Damn the mud. Double damn this stupid dress.She could have run so much faster if she’d had on her favorite pair of jeans.
She floundered in the tangle of skirts and stumbled forward. Ronan yanked her up from the cold wet ground and steadied her. “Take care now. If ye break yer wee neck, ye will do the man no good at all.”
She fought against the urge to shout a rant of Granny’s favorite curse words and instead just hitched her skirts higher. The cold wind stung her thighs as she broke into a long-legged run. If she had to run bare-assed to get to Colum in time, she would do it.
A roar of pain halted her just as she reached the back of the wagon. Colum’s fury seemed to shake the trees as he shouted, “What have ye done with Kenna? I will kill every single one of ye bastards!” Four of Ronan’s men flanked Colum, trying to hold him down as he flailed between them.
“Colum! Stop!” She clambered up the iron framework and pitched herself into the bed of the wagon. “I’m right here. Colum, you have to lie still. You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”
His head thrashed wildly from side to side, straining against those attempting to hold him still. His red-rimmed eyes bulged wide open and unblinking. “Free me!” he roared as he bucked against Ronan’s men.
Kenna scrambled up to him, worming her way between the men so she could plant her hands on Colum’s chest. She nearly sobbed out loud at his fiery, mottled coloring. How had he gotten this way so fast? His hot, dry skin nearly seared her palms as she pushed him back down into the pillows. Fever. A terrifying, unholy fever had taken hold of him.
She blinked hard against her fears, refusing to give way to more tears as she grabbed the skin of water from overhead, wet a rag, and smoothed it across his face. “You have to be still, my love. Please, you have to be still.”
He stared up at her with unseeing eyes. His burning-hot breath burst free of his lungs in wheezing gasps. She had to get him cooler. He had to hang on. He had to be kept still.
A glance at the rags wrapped around his leg confirmed her greatest fear: It was too late. Fresh blood already seeped through the strips of cloth, soaking into the split lengths of wood holding the leg straight. “We’ve got to get him still. We’ve got to get him calmed down.”
“Where is she? Where is Kenna? What have ye done with my woman?” Colum stared blindly up into her face. His splotched skin deepened to an angrier red with every word he spoke.
“I am here.” She drew closer, until the tip of her nose nearly touched his. “I am here, Colum. I am right here with you.”
“Ye must find her.” He shook his head free of her hands as though she had never spoken. “Ye must find her and tell her I love her. Ye must make her know I love her more than life itself. Tell her I canna live without her. Tell her I would rather die if she can never be mine.” He grabbed hold of the front of her dress and yanked her down closer. “Swear it to me. Swear ye will make her believe my love for her is truer than the North Star.”
Tears broke free and blinded her. She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder to stanch their flow. “She knows you love her.” Kenna coughed through another sob as she lifted his head and leaned all her weight against him. She took the bottle of herb-laced whisky from Liam and held it to Colum’s mouth. “I swear to you, she knows how much you love her. Now drink. You must drink this if you ever hope to see her again.”
He obediently gulped down several swallows, his eyes still wide and unseeing.
Ian jumped into the wagon, a fresh length of rags in his hands. He looped them tightly around Colum’s leg and tightened them around the splints.
Colum grimaced and thrashed against Ian’s ministrations, all the while spitting out a tirade of screamed Gaelic. He threw Kenna against the side of the wagon as he fought the men.
