Connor, who still stood at the end of the table, nodded, raising his drinking horn high once more. “Aye!”
“Aye!” Cups thumped against wood.
“But there will be changes … both here in the North, and in The Wolds too,” she went on, once the noise had died down. “Going forward, we shall learn to share our world with others. Itwon’t be easy. There will be obstacles, yet on this, I will not yield. My father persecuted the Shee, wulvers, and half-bloods. I won’t.”
A hush settled then.
Lara had spoken those last two words with deliberate emphasis, and fire pulsed in her belly as she stared the crowd down, daring any of them to contradict her.
No one did. Nonetheless, she marked the uneasy glances some of them shared. Change was coming, but that didn’t mean it would be easy, or that they’d like it.
She lowered her gaze then, meeting Alar’s eye across the table. Their gazes fused, and as their stare drew out, her pulse went wild. Suddenly, it didn’t matter what anyone else in this roundhouse thought.
Onlyhisopinion mattered.
The wulvers had turned on her, yet could she blame them entirely? Even at Duncrag, her people had treated them like vermin. Things had to change.
She wanted Alar to believe her, to know that she was committed to this. Over the last years, she’d teetered on the edge, torn between taking her father’s path or her own. However, revenge only ever left a bitter taste in her mouth. Aye, she’d deal with her overkings. But that wasn’t about justice or about restoring her birthright. It was about stopping greedy, ambitious men from destroying The Wolds.
Slowly, Alar smiled—and she knew he understood.
Lara rolled onto her back, staring up at the shadowed ceiling of her sleeping nook.
Curse it.The night drew out, and everyone else slumbered. But she couldn’t.
The furs were deliciously soft, embracing her like a warm hug. After everything she’d endured of late, and with a belly full of rich food and drink, she should be sleeping deeply.
But she was wide awake.
And no, it wasn’t Cailean and Bree’s nocturnal activities that disturbed her. The alcove next to hers was mercifully silent.
Her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not with so much unsaid.
She’d said plenty earlier. Her speech had shocked many of the crannog-dwellers. The mood afterward hadn’t been quite so merry as beforehand, yet Lara had lowered herself back onto the bench seat with renewed determination.
She voiced something that had burned inside her for a long time.
But not everything.
There were things she needed to say to Alar, and until she did, she’d find no peace.
Growling an oath, she threw back the furs and clambered out of bed. Her bare feet sank into the sheepskins as she threw her cloak around her shoulders.
She then ducked out of the alcove, stepping out onto the rush-strewn floor.
The hearth burned low. Above, the rafters creaked as wind buffeted the roundhouse. The drifting smoke swirled. A low rumble filtered through the air. Skaal lay curled up on a sheepskin by the fire, snoring.
Careful not to disturb the fae hound, Lara tiptoed across to Alar’s alcove.
Halting before it, she hesitated, her courage faltering for a few instants.
Irritation surged up.You’re not backing away from this … or from him.
And so, reaching out, she pushed aside the curtain and slipped inside.
Alar was asleep, propped up against a nest of rolled furs. Those furs covering his body had slipped down, revealing his naked torso. Fresh bandages wrapped around his chest and hand; he’d visited the crannog’s healer shortly after their arrival. The light of a dying cresset played across his bare skin and the wolf’s head tattoo.
The wolf’s eyes glowed red then, as if it had just seen her.
