Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,8
broad limb of a sycamore overhanging the path and swung himself up to safety. The wolf missed his ankle by an inch.
The beasts continued to range beneath the tree, growling and snapping in frustration at the prey they couldn’t reach.
Hallie was mortified. She couldn’t look the man in the eye. She’d been so sure her wolf—the one she’d hand-raised—would back down once the threat was gone.
Now both of them were helpless and weaponless, treed, at the mercy of the circling beasts. And it was Hallie’s fault.
She expected the Highlander to rail at her. To accuse her of trying to get him killed. To curse in frustration at their predicament. To bellow in rage.
But he didn’t. And his silence was almost worse.
Eventually the wolves stopped pacing. Hallie hoped they’d given up the hunt and would return to their den. That was not to be. Instead, they bedded down at the foot of the Highlander’s tree in patient wait.
Hallie perched atop the oak limb, waiting for them to leave.
An hour passed. And then another. And another.
It was almost dawn when the wolves finally rose on silent haunches and slunk away into the woods. Hallie glanced over at the Highlander to see if he’d noticed.
He was slumped against the trunk, fast asleep. His mouth was half open. His long legs dangled over the thick branch.
Her lips curved up in a rare smile. He looked less like a fierce Highlander and more like a helpless lad now.
Then she sobered as she realized she had the advantage. While her pursuer slumbered, she could clamber down the tree. Seize his sword. And steal away to Rivenloch. Right under his nose.
It was what cunning Feiyan or impulsive Jenefer would have done. Hallie could be halfway home before the dozing Highlander woke.
Then she sighed. Hallie wasn’t like her cousins. She’d made the man a promise. She’d sworn she’d return to Creagor with him.
He might be her enemy. But she couldn’t leave him to the wolves. He’d held up his end of the bargain. Against his instincts—and common sense, it turned out—he’d willingly surrendered his blade.
She had to keep her word. She owed him as much.
But she had another weapon left in her arsenal. Her wits. With a hostage in tow, she could change her strategy. She’d never specified exactly when she’d return with him to Creagor.
Chapter 5
Something poked Colban, waking him with a start that nearly toppled him to the ground.
“Bloody…!”
He’d forgotten he was in a tree. He made a quick grab for the limb to keep from falling into the jaws of…
The wolves were gone.
In their place stood a smug Valkyrie with a sword—his sword. She must have poked him with it.
He wondered how long she’d been standing there.
Then he wondered if she woke up every morn, looking as fresh and beautiful and magnificent as a newly blossomed rose.
“We should go now,” she said, interrupting his wayward thoughts, “ere they return.”
He was exhausted. His bones ached, thanks to a night spent huddled in a tree. He was in no shape for a long journey. But he knew she was right.
The sun had just lifted its yellow head above the horizon. It wasn’t too late for the wolves to return for one last kill before they retired to their den for the day.
He nodded, raking his tangled hair back from his brow.
Then he realized their situation. He’d been snoring away in a deep sleep. Oblivious to the world. The wolves had gone. The warrior lass had confiscated his claymore. She could have easily escaped.
But she hadn’t. She’d kept her promise. The lass appeared to be a woman of her word.
Still, he wasn’t sure he trusted her to keep it. Not while she was the one holding the claymore.
He swung down from the branch and dropped onto the path. Facing her, he was astonished again by her impressive height. He had to lower his gaze only an inch to stare into eyes as calm and blue as the summer sea.
A sunbeam shot through the trees, gilding her ice-blonde tresses. Warming her cheek with a rosy blush. Brushing her lips with a gentle kiss of light.
For an instant, he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Then she spoke, startling him from his reverie.
“Let’s go,” she said, nodding to indicate the path ahead.
He frowned, confused for a moment. The Valkyrie might be fierce and beautiful. But she apparently had no sense of direction. It was a good thing he’d followed her into the woods.