I caught her wrist, gently twisting her arm back toward me, and pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Come back quickly,” I said solemnly.“Or I may perish.”
She snorted softly as I flopped dramatically onto my back.
“Yer family’s comin’tomorrow,” she said, shaking her head while pulling on her slippers.“And I want everything tae be perfect.”
It was insult added to injury when I heard Ranald greet his sister far too brightly.
She’ll be back, Wulfric consoled me.
I stared at the ceiling for a moment longer.
It would be best to see her fed—and then dragged back to our bed. With a plan firmly in place, I swung my legs out and rose.
Ranald would not get the better of me.
Not today.
? ? ?
I held the plum-filled pastry to her lips. Her eyes flashed a brief, burnt orange as she opened her mouth—Madadh, our vicious yet playful wolf, close to the surface. Her wolf form was far smaller than ours, but quick and alert. Once Wulfric ran with her, he was complete.
“She can eat by herself,” Ranald snorted.
“You should take note,” I said, carefully schooling my temper.“This is how one cares for his wife.”
I grunted in satisfaction when she tore off a generous bite. She knew I loved it when she abandoned any pretence of ladylike restraint—a sharp contrast to the women of the ton.
“Ah’ll never turn into a sap over any lassie,” Ranald scoffed.
Euphemia glanced at me, and we shared a knowing look. His bravado would not last—not if there was a dormant wolf in him, as there was in his sister.
“Aye, ye will,” Euphemia said lightly, lifting her teacup.“An’I’ll be there tae help ye through it.”
Wulfric nudged me, eager for me to feed her again.
The cook had been experimenting endlessly ahead of my parents’arrival.
“As long as I dinnae end up likehim,” Ranald muttered, biting into an apple with unnecessary force.
Euphemia slipped her hand onto my thigh, squeezing once before letting her fingers drift higher, brushing deliberately over my crotch. Her eyes held a quiet promise—one she’d made very clear this morning. I lifted the sticky pastry back to her lips.
She was all mine.
Ours, Wulfric corrected, satisfied.
Ranald rose abruptly and left the dining room.
Euphemia
Thaddeus was close behind me as he ushered me upstairs. He was rarely far from my side now—even when overseeing the new cattle or taking stock of the spring crops being sown. My aunt and uncle had declined his offer to live with us, though Thaddeus had insisted on improving their croft all the same.
Ranald, meanwhile, remained firmly attached to my shadow—ostensibly to keep me safe, should theSassunnach show his true colours.
His father had formally transferred ownership of the estate to Thaddeus after finally accepting that his son was settled in Scotland. However, he had not hidden his displeasure over our hasty marriage, only four days after Christmas.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind us, the heavy lock sliding decisively into place. A shiver traced its way down my spine.
