THE NERVE OFthat man! The unmitigated gall! To leave her behind as if she were some... pathetic weakling woman. And to kiss her like that! Like he had the right to do it! Howdarehe?
Brie’s whole body trembled with anger.
That he’d saved her life back at Tordenet was all that kept her from wishing a pox to fall upon his head. Lucky for him her bow lay in its corner at Castle MacGahan, or she’d be tempted to...
Brie took a deep breath and blew it out with great deliberation, forcing her clenched fists open. How many times had her father counseled her on controlling her wild temper?
Losing herself to fury wouldn’t accomplish anything. There was nothing she could do right now. She had no horse and she had no weapon. But things would not always be this way.
“So be it,” she ground out, turning to find all her traveling companions staring in her direction. “So be it,” she repeated, this time on a huff of breath meant to calm her as she mentally wrestled the red haze of anger flooding her mind into a small, manageable ball.
If only Hall had listened to her, she could have helped him in his quest. What she knew of Mathew MacFalny and Eleyne, the cousin he’d left behind with the Tinklers, might have saved him days in his search.
But no, he’d left her behind with a stinging insult ringing in her ears.
If only he hadn’t kissed her. If only he hadn’t made it feel so—she touched a finger to her lips—soenjoyable.
Next to her, Eric cleared his throat. “The sooner yer back in the wagon, the sooner we can be on our way.” His horse pawed at the ground as he spoke, as if the animal could feel the emotions roiling within her.
The animal was obviously smarter than his rider, since the annoying man could barely hide his grin.
Bridget locked her jaw to keep from swearing aloud and strode back to the wagon to climb inside.
Patience,her father had always counseled. She wished to the Seven that she possessed even some small measure of that elusive virtue, but it just wasn’t a part of who she was. Determination was what kept her going.
For now, her path was to return to Castle MacGahan. Perhaps her brother would be there by the time she arrived.
Things would be different when Jamesy came home. Together, they could set out to track the sword themselves. They would find it, and they would put an end to both Torquil MacDowylt and whatever creature lived inside him. Revenge for her father’s murder would be hers.
And as for Halldor O’Donar?
Turning to look over her shoulder, she cast one last glare in his direction. As she’d promised, she wouldn’t forget this latest slight, his sending her away for a second time as if she were some fragile maid in need of his protection.
By the Seven, he was the most arrogant creature she’d ever met. But she’d show him. She’d track him and find him, and when she did, she’d give him a piece of her mind.
“What’s got that silly smile upon yer face?” Eleyne asked, her fingers twitching at the blanket covering her lap.
“I’m no smiling,” Brie denied, carefully wiping all expression from her face.
And even if she had been, it was only the thought of getting even with O’Donar that made her smile. Certainly not the prospect of meeting up with him again.
Two
FINGERS SPLAYED, THEhand reached out to cover the meat in front of him. With little effort, the fingers closed around the morsel and efficiently brought it to his mouth.
This body, this vessel that had become Fenrir’s new abode, was becoming his now, responding to his thoughts as if he had been born in this form.
A pity this casing was so weak and vulnerable.
Fenrir bit into the hot mutton and shivered, longing for the banquet tables of old in his home world. He longed for raw meat that dripped warm blood, fresh from the kill, rather than this pale, tasteless cooked fare that these creatures insisted on consuming.
Those days, like his original form, were long gone. But if he had his way, they wouldn’t be gone forever.
He was Torquil MacDowylt now. Laird of the MacDowylts of the North. And in this guise, he would soon rule all he set his sights upon. Nothing in this world could stop him.
At least, not once he regained possession of those treasures that were rightfully his.
What little appetite he had for the tasteless swill in front of him disappeared completely at the thought of his missing treasures, and he tossed the overcooked meat back onto the table.
