A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,3
though the pirating stopped a century ago. As far as he was concerned, they were still a bunch of ruthless brigands.
Determination was etched on Ian’s scowling face as he studied Cearnach while remaining seated at his dark oak desk. He was struggling to allow Cearnach to attend his friend’s wedding, worried about his safety, not happy about it, but reluctant to take a stand and say no. That was one of the reasons Cearnach loved his older quadruplet brother. He was a born leader of men with a heart of gold. Though no one would say the latter to his face. Ian was certain that he hid that part of himself well enough so he could take on the world and them when he needed to.
His people knew better.
The weather was dismal this fall day at Argent Castle, and the room itself was dark and gloomy. The bookshelves were filled with leather-bound volumes of the history of their clan. The rich, burgundy Turkish tapestries covering the floor, the brown leather chairs, and Ian’s oak desk all took on an ominous cast, like a scene from a gothic novel.
Ian’s jaw clenched like it did when he gave one of his brothers an order or at least a strong suggestion, or when any of them disagreed with him on an issue. Since Cearnach was the second eldest brother and next in command, Ian usually gave him more leeway, knowing Cearnach’s heart and head were normally in the right place.
“I don’t understand,” Ian said finally, his dark brown eyes gauging Cearnach’s resolve like a wolf attempting to see the inner workings of someone’s thoughts. “You’re not looking for a fight, are you? Attending Calla’s wedding could stir up bad feelings we don’t need with another Highland wolf clan. Especially that one.”
“You’re right. You don’t understand. You would do whatever it took to be there for family or in choosing a mate. But you’ve never had a female friend who wasn’t family. With me, Calla’s just a friend. Being there for her is important to me.”
“Aye, a friend. She tossed you a rope to keep you from drowning in the swollen river when you were a wee lad, and now you feel you owe her the same. She’s made her choice,” Ian reminded him, though Cearnach didn’t need the reminder. “She doesn’t believe she needs rescuing.
“Alpha males don’t take kindly to other wolves crossing the line. You’ve tried to talk her out of the mating, but she’s making the commitment to Baird McKinley anyway. Neither her family nor the McKinleys will be happy to see you, Cearnach. You’ll be the enemy in their midst. Some will know you tried to dissuade her from marrying the brigand. We all know what he’s like. She’s too stubborn to see it.”
Aye, she was, but Cearnach didn’t want to hear Ian telling him so. “She asked me to be there. I have to go, Ian. I’m already running late.”
Ian furrowed his brow at his brother. “You’re never late to anything. You’re always early or on time. Doesn’t that say something to you about this whole ludicrous venture? That you shouldn’t be going? That you don’t really want to go?”
Cearnach looked out the window at the Caledonian Forest beyond the castle walls, where the hearty breeze stirred the branches of the Scots pines while smoky gray clouds stretched across the sky. He didn’t answer.
“You’re not going to object to the marriage, are you?” Ian said as more of an observation than a question.
Cearnach straightened. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he got there.
Sounding deeply exasperated, Ian let out his breath. “Couldn’t you have worn something less… antagonistic?”
At that, Cearnach couldn’t help but smile… an evil smile. He turned to face his brother. “What? My kilt? I’m proud of being a MacNeill.”
“Aye, and the sword?” Ian said, motioning to it.
“Part of the formal dress. All wolves wear them to Highland weddings. I wouldn’t be caught dead without it.”
“Aye, but in this case they might consider you a threat, thinking possibly you have plans to steal the bride away, a time-honored tradition in the Highlands and still among wolves. Here’s hoping you won’t have to use your sword. Call me when you get there and after it’s done. I want to know if I have to send the troops out to rescue you.”
Cearnach bowed his head slightly in acceptance. “I’m off, Ian. Wish me luck.”