MacRieve(2)

Nay, of course he was. Whenever Will and Ruelle quarreled, he comprehended that he was truly maturing-a grown Lykae. Adults bickered; they had concerns and cares that the young did not.

Yet if he was grown, why couldn't he satisfy her? A flare of anger took him by surprise. "If you have call to criticize my da, you should do it the Lykae way: to his face." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Her species was made to love, never to fight.

The idea of Ruelle openly criticizing someone so much stronger was laughable.

As if on cue, her gray eyes misted with tears. She even cried prettily. "You know I cannot do that, can never show my face to them. They will kill me, just for what I am."

His parents wouldn't necessarily welcome her into the pack with open arms, but surely Ruelle exaggerated about their reaction. "No Lykae would ever harm another's mate. We revere matehood above all things."

"What if they don't believe what we know to be true?" She pulled the silk covers over her breasts defensively. "Why do you continue to argue with me?"

"Because keeping this secret for so long sits ill." Lately it'd been weighing on him more and more, but he'd at least wait until after his mam gave birth to her bairn before revealing his secret. She was a couple of months along, just starting to show. Her "three braw lads"-as she called her husband, Will, and Munro-all sensed she carried a daughter and were ecstatic about the fact. Mam wanted to call her Isla.

A wee lass to spoil? Even now Will's lips curled with anticipation. He and Munro could scarcely wait until she was old enough to learn how to hunt, to fish.

Aye, his family needed no tumult now. Best to get back. He quickly donned his boots. "We'll speak of this in the future."

"No, we will not." Her gray eyes flickered to jade green, usually the only sign that her emotions were running high. "If you can't respect my wishes in something so important, then do not return for four nights."

Will froze. The fire in the hearth crackled. The wind whipped snow against the windows. "You doona mean it."

"I do."

"Four!" he bit out in disbelief. "You'd punish me thus?" The longest he'd gone was three. He'd barely survived the sickness.

"I wish that you hadn't forced me to."

"I forced you?" Everything was always his fault. When he'd panicked during their first time making love and wanted to wait, she was not to be denied-and it was his fault for being "irresistible" to her. He'd wanted to bring home all the gifts she'd given him-mainly to lord them over his twin-but she'd refused: "Your parents will suspect; it's not my fault that you were born into a closed-minded family."

And now he was to go the better part of a week without returning. At the thought of the agony he'd soon experience, his Lykae beast stirred. Though his da, uncles, and older cousins were training him to harness that wild force within him, Will unleashed it each time Ruelle mated him.

"One day, Ruelle, you will push me too far."

"Oh? And then what will you do?" she asked with a triumphant look, for they both knew the truth.

He was bound to her for eternity. Doubly so-not just because she was his Lykae mate, but because of the tie he'd willfully borne after three visits to her bed.

He was fettered to her for the rest of his life. Or for the length of hers.

"But before you go, my love, I truly do need once more."

With a painful surge, his exhausted body reacted against his will, readying for her to take. He grimaced, panic setting in, his breaths shallowing. "You told me you'd no' use your strew again!" It was how she'd gotten him to mate her in the beginning. He shuddered to remember those times. A sickly feeling roiled in his gut as he struggled to withstand her, knowing how futile it was.

"Why fight me?" Eyes glowing green, she dropped the sheet. "Any male would kill to be with me." She traipsed over and embraced him, pressing his face against her breast, against scented white flesh.

He couldn't get enough air. "I canna-Ruelle, nay!" Already his beast was rising, protectively.

She pulled back, grasping his chin, hard. "Your eyes turn blue," she said with a satisfied smile. "Your beast and I will take care of everything. Just as we always do."

"You promised me!"

She pressed him down on her bed, then rose above him, the position she chose without fail. "Look at you, my love. Who could possibly blame me?"

And the deep dragged him down. . . .

Conall Keep, Northern Outpost of the Woods of Murk

THREE NIGHTS LATER