A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,29
McKinleys could destroy them and she would have a hard time recouping her losses, but she was alive and well and so was Cearnach, and that was all that truly mattered. Though she couldn’t help biting back a bit of annoyance concerning him. If his car hadn’t nearly hit hers on the road, she wouldn’t be here now. She would have met with…
Robert Kilpatrick. Well, if she’d been on time.
She snorted. If she’d met him first, she probably would have thought he was one of the good guys. What a horrible thought.
Trying to make the best of a bad situation, she ran through the tunnel alongside Cearnach and back down the steps. The wind was blowing hard, and fog cloaked everything in a misty gray curtain as she and Cearnach made their way to the beach. They loped through glens and woodlands, behind a hill hiding them from the view of a farmhouse, alongside a creek where the trees kept them well hidden, stopping only to drink at the water’s edge. Cearnach stayed glued to her side as if he was afraid for her safety and was protecting her at all costs.
She and Cearnach had been running and alternately loping, a less tiring gait, for maybe an hour when she wondered just how far his castle was from the ruins. By car, maybe not so far. But he was probably taking her in a roundabout way, avoiding farms and houses and towns, and keeping to rivers and creeks and unsettled areas. The unrelenting rain had started up again.
After the second hour on the run, she was getting tired. When he saw her falling back, he began to walk beside her. Both of their tongues were lolling out of their mouths as they tried to cool their bodies, which were overheated despite the cold weather.
Elaine explored a little, figuring she’d never have the chance to run as a wolf in the wilderness of Scotland again and, in any other circumstance, would never do something so dangerous. She touched her nose to moss-covered stones, the feel soft and velvety, and listened to the wind rustling the leaves of nearby trees and the sound of water trickling in the creek just beyond them. Everything—the grass, the leaves, the moss covering ancient stone walls—was emerald green.
She ran in the Ocala National Forest and elsewhere in Florida in the heat, so she enjoyed this—the cooler weather, the wetness, no worry about rattlesnakes or alligators or other animals. When she’d run in the Everglades, she’d come across a protective bear and her cubs, and smelled the scat from a black panther, although she hadn’t seen him.
She felt relatively safe here—at least from other wild animal predators. Man was another story.
Furry russet-colored cows grazing in a field caught her eye. Their short faces were bent and nibbling on rain-soaked grass until they sensed the wolves’ approach. They were funny-looking creatures compared to American cows. But she was certain the Scots would think the same of the long-faced cows in America.
They mooed and moved together away from the perceived threat, as if Cearnach and she wanted to eat a cow on the hoof. She never hunted in wolf form, not unless she was in dire straits. If she was starving and lost in the wilderness, she’d make an exception, but she usually went after fish.
No farmhouse was in sight, which was a good thing. That meant no one would be worried about what was upsetting the livestock and come out to shoot at them.
A half mile farther, a gray stone farmhouse sat back off a road. The farmhouse wasn’t a problem. The dogs living at the stone building were.
Two border collies suddenly appeared, running at a full gallop, headed straight for Cearnach and Elaine, and intent on chasing them away. They were ultra-fast, extremely clever, hardworking sheepherding dogs. Elaine knew their herding instinct was actually a wolf characteristic, but instead of taking an animal down as wolves would on a hunt, the border collies had been bred to eliminate the killing instinct and would circle and gather, rather than using brute force to guide the herd.
One of the collies had a red face and white chest; the other was black and white. Both were equally aggressive. They were in full pursuit as they ran across the glen, barking at Cearnach and Elaine, alerting anyone in the house that someone or something had invaded their land and they needed backup pronto.
Cearnach and Elaine turned to face them down, growling