"Our father loved me until I didn't make the change, but not after. I was his favorite; he trained me to be his next in command, but he dismissed me from the moment it became obvious I was not a wolf. Stupid bloody animal."
"It is not your lack of an inner wolf that makes you unsuitable to lead, but your lack of honor. I believe our father saw that."
Ulf attacked Lachlan, but within seconds he was insensate once again. "Lock him in the west tower," Lachlan ordered, his voice harsh.
Cait took Drustan aside for something. The warrior looked furious for a moment before giving instructions to another soldier. Emily couldn't dwell too long on what had been said by her friend to make her new husband look so angry because Lachlan had just called for the priest.
Which was how Emily had ended up where she was now, facing a priest and hearing the wedding mass spoken for the second time since coming to the Highlands. She'd seen the defeat and pain in Lachlan's eyes. He had lost a brother in the last hour and her heart had gone out to him. She had been incapable of adding to his torment by opposing him, but how could she allow Lachlan to make this sacrifice? How could she make it herself? He did not want to wed a human and she did not want to wed a man who saw her as less than she was because she was not half-wolf. Yet, he had agreed to the marriage, had not argued at all in fact. She didn't believe for one minute that was because Talorc had threatened war. Lachlan was too strong to be so easily cowed. No, he had his own reasons for marrying her, but she could not understand what they might be. She loved him so much, but she knew her feelings could never be returned, not while he thought her so inferior.
Only when they had touched it had not felt like he thought of her as inferior. It had not felt merely like an expression of lust either, and she did not think that was entirely the work of her fantasy. He had never treated her like she was "only a human" in his eyes, no matter what he said with his mouth.
When he was talking with Talorc, Lachlan had spoken of her as if he truly admired her. She could do worse than to marry a man who thought that highly of her. Couldn't she?
But when the time came for her to repeat her vows, she opened her mouth and nothing came out.
Lachlan looked down at her. "Is it so hard, lass?"
Mute, she nodded. Too many thoughts vied for supremacy in her mind; she could not give vent to a single one.
"I do not see why. You love me. You told me so. I will make you say the words again later, when I am satisfying your curiosity." He winked at her.
She almost swooned right then and there from shock and embarrassment. It would serve him right if she married him and made his life a misery, the fiend!
"Hush," she hissed.
"It is not a thing to be ashamed of."
"Says you," Talorc said from the other side of Lachlan.
"You don't want this," she whispered, finally getting her throat to work.
"If I did not, the priest would not be standing in front of us."
"But you wanted to marry Chrechte."
"I want to marry you."
"I could not stand for you to reject our children like your father rejected Ulf… that is assuming we can even have children."
"I told Ulf it was God's choice whether or not we have children. Do you believe that?"
"Yes."
"If we have children, I will love them no matter what. I promise you this."
"But—"
"Do you trust me, English?"
Tears wet her eyes. "Yes." He was not a man given to breaking his promises.
"Then speak your vows."
"But…" she said again, only she didn't know what she wanted to say after.
She would love Lachlan all the days of her life. She had come to the Highlands prepared to do whatever was required to save her sister a dismal fate. She was now being offered a marriage much more hopeful than the one she had contracted to make. Why was she balking?
She could have a measure of happiness while keeping her sister safe. According to the Highlanders, they only obeyed their king when they wanted to. As long as she wasn't returned to England in disgrace, Abigail should be safe. Her father had paid the price his king demanded of him, and by all accounts, it was unlikely the Scottish king would check to make sure his laird had.
But surely, even if he did, he would be as content to have the wild Lachlan "tamed" by marriage to an Englishwoman as Talorc of the Sinclairs.
Still, she wondered if this was the right thing to do. She cast a sidelong glance at Lachlan. He looked so sure. And suddenly she knew it was going to be all right. For him to have had the change of heart he did about marrying a Chrechte, he had to love her. He might not realize it. He might not ever be willing to acknowledge it, but she was confident the feelings were inside him.
He would never, ever consent to marrying a human woman, much less argue for the marriage otherwise. He'd told her he planned to claim her before, but she'd thought he was under the influence of lust alone. After what had just transpired, even he could not be under such an influence at the moment. He must truly want this.
And he'd said he would love their children no matter what. Perhaps one day, he would even acknowledge loving her.
As her thoughts and heart finally settled, Talorc sighed, long and drawn out it was, too.
He asked, "You would rather marry me? With the priest here, that could be arranged."
She practically shouted her vows to the background of his uproarious laughter.
When it was done, Lachlan kissed her with such a wealth of passion she couldn't help wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. He lifted her and cradled her against his chest, then carried her up the stairs and to his chamber. The sound of loud shouting followed them from the great hall.
When they reached his room, he did not give her a chance to stop and think.
They were both naked and in the bed before she became aware enough to warn him, "Once we make love there is no going back."
Despite her certainty that he loved her, she felt the need to give him one last chance to turn back. Marriage to a human woman was so far from what he had planned for his life.
"There was no going back from the moment I met you, but I was too stubborn to see it at first." He sounded too flippant to her.
"I mean it, Lachlan. As long as I am still a virgin, you can obtain an annulment, but once the marriage is consummated, I won't let you kick me out of your life, even if I'm not your true mate."
"I would never let you go." It was a vow and she took it as such, knowing it came from deep inside him. Then he kissed her again.
He touched her in ways he had not done before, bringing her excitement to a fever pitch of need. She widened her thighs, wanting him to join their bodies, to assuage the ache he'd created deep inside her woman's place.
He paused with his shaft pressed against her opening. "I offer you my body and all that I am, Emily of the Balmoral. Do you accept all that I am?"
There was only one answer she could give. "Yes."
"Do you welcome me into your body?"
"Yes. I want you to be part of me, Lachlan."
"I already am, lass, now and forever." He pressed inside then, his hardness stretching her to the point of pain.
She whimpered.
He brushed her face with an incredibly gentle hand that shook. "You must relax your body, love. It is not enough that I take you, but you must will your flesh to accept me."
"I don't know how." Though it was what she wanted. So much.
Reaching down, he touched her sweetest spot with his thumb. The light circular caress sent pleasure shooting through her and she arched up for more. He gave it to her, touching her again and again with the gentlest of strokes.
"That feels so good," she moaned.
"Aye. Think only of the pleasure, love." His voice sounded strained.