He had felt every century without her.
So I repeated the chant to him—quietly, steadily, until the words sank deep.
Do not fret. She is ours, I murmured through our bond.
Only when his tremors eased—only when that low, aching grief inside him settled—did I stop. This was my wolf’s sole vulnerability.
We trotted to her croft. We sat beneath the trees. When he ran, I felt his joy of freedom. He wanted to hunt, but he won't because he needs to be close to Euphemia. I didn't complain, but sat with him, content to be within range of her scent.
? ? ?
Now that I focused on Wulfric, I could feel his giddiness as she ate at our table. His delight in her appetite. His quiet pride at us providing sustenance for her belly.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t take my eyes off her mouth for an entirely different reason.
The yolk dripped down her plump, pink lip—and the tip of her tongue swiped out to catch it.
A faux pas at the dining table.
Then reality came crashing down on me.
She could lick every single thing on the table—me included—and I would not give a single damn. I would encourage her further. Preferably into debauchery.
I poured her more tea into her cup, not because it was empty, but because I did not want her to leave our presence.
She does not have much time left, Wulfric said after we inhaled her scent.
He was right. Every day it deepened.
“My parents are sending a few things up for Christmas,” I said, forcing myself to take a bite of my food.
Her head tilted up—but my eyes betrayed me, dropping to her chest, remembering the glorious flash from the loch.
They were mine.
She was mine.
I shifted in my chair until it creaked beneath my weight.
“What kind of things?”
When my eyes returned to her face, Wulfric stirred—and I smiled despite myself.
Those rich brown eyes were hungry.
And not for food.
Chapter 16
Euphemia
He was being unreasonable, and he knew it.
The weans knew something was up too. Ronald shook his head and picked up his book again. I almost smiled. Wait until he saw the library at Eilidh House—or Manor, as the Sassunnach Laird insisted on calling it.
“It’s just a wee cart ride, Callum. What’s gotten intae ye?” Aunt Flora said, winking at me.
“Exactly. And Rowlands will be with me. I huv tae do ma job, and this is part o’it,” I said, exasperated enough to fling my hands in the air.“I cannae very well inspect supplies from the hearth.”
