WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,46

Tor simply nodded his head and the pair walked past him, back to their destroyed stall.

But Isalyn was still standing there and he turned his attention to her. He looked at her for a moment before finally shaking his head.

“Had I not come along when I did, this situation would have had a considerably different outcome,” he said in a low voice. “I found you in town yesterday and I saved you from a wild horse. Today, it was from soldiers who more than likely would have happily molested you. What is going to happen to you when I go home and am no longer around to save you?”

Isalyn was trying not to look ashamed. “I have survived this long without you,” she said. “But I do appreciate your assistance.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted. “Why did you come to town this morning, anyway? What is here worth risking your life over?”

Isalyn realized she was still holding one of the daggers. Looking to her left hand, she could see that it was, indeed, the dog’s head dagger. She had no idea what happened to the other one. She had dropped it somewhere in her panic. She lifted the dagger up so that he could see it.

“I came to buy this for you,” she said, thinking it sounded stupid even as she said it. “I wanted to thank you for yesterday and for… well, for everything. You have been kind and attentive and I wanted to thank you for it. I wanted to give you a token of my gratitude.”

Tor was looking at the dagger with the sapphire eye. When he realized that she’d come to town to purchase a gift for him, it doused any irritation he felt.

But not completely.

He was still wound up from the fight.

“You did not have to do that,” he said, somewhat gentler. “A kind word would have sufficed.”

Realizing the gift did not have the same meaning to him as it did to her, Isalyn suddenly felt embarrassed. She wanted the man to remember her, but not as a foolish lass who needed constant saving. She had thought… she had hoped… that he rather felt some attraction to her as she was feeling for him. But realizing that was not the case, she immediately lowered the dagger and her gaze.

“I am sorry, then,” she said. “I did not mean to cause you such trouble. You have been kind and I have very much enjoyed conversing with you, so forgive my boldness in thinking to purchase you a gift. It was wrong of me.”

She pushed around him, quickly, heading back to the metalworker’s stall just as the metalworker and his son were starting to pick up things that had been scattered. She handed the metalworker the dagger, apologized profusely for the mess, and gave the man about half the contents of her purse to pay for the damage. The man was grateful, but he tried to give her the money back and she wouldn’t take it. She insisted. Leaving the metalworker looking concerned, and a little confused, she tucked her head down and headed down the street.

But Tor caught up to her.

“Hold, my lady,” he said, grasping her by the arm. “Where are you going?”

Isalyn was deeply ashamed and, truth be told, still upset about the fight. Something about it had damaged her sense of safety, the one that permitted her to travel alone whenever she pleased. Tor had been right – had he not come along when he had, her personal well-being at this moment would have been decidedly different. In fact, the entire morning had been upsetting and she simply wanted to go back to Featherstone.

“Home,” she said, unable to look at him. “I am going back to Featherstone, pack my belongings, and return to London where I belong. I do not like it up here in the wilds of Northumberland. I want to return to the city that I know.”

Tor could see that she was fighting off tears. She still had blood streaked on her cheek, which fired him up again. But knowing she was safe and the threat was vanquished brought him back down. He’d fought for her, defended her, and he felt as if he’d never done anything more worthwhile in his life. Even though her actions had been foolish… well, he wasn’t one to point out the obvious. She knew she had been foolish.

… didn’t she?

It occurred to him that this probably wouldn’t be the last time she charged out on