A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,70

gate. They want to speak with Elaine.”

Cearnach snorted. “Tell them I’m planning on pressing charges.”

Guthrie laughed. “They said they’d contact the police and say you kidnapped Elaine. That she’s being held here against her will.”

They all knew no one would be contacting any police over the matter.

His brothers shifted their gazes to a point behind him. Cearnach turned.

Brows furrowed, Elaine strode toward them, looking like she’d take his brothers on in an instant. Both Guthrie and Duncan were fighting a smile. Not in a condescending way, but with respect for her alpha-ness.

“When they stole my car?” she growled, standing next to Cearnach. “They would have a hard time convincing a cop that Cearnach is in the wrong when they left me no choice but to go with him. Plus, there’s the little matter of their having destroyed Cearnach’s minivan.” She said to Cearnach, “I’ll go with you.”

Cearnach frowned down at her. He’d rather she stayed far away from her kin, as he was still worried she might be talked into leaving with them if only to clear things up between them, maybe learn about the stolen goods, and reclaim her car and personal effects along with Cearnach’s.

“I’ll speak with them. I’d rather you stayed safely here,” Cearnach said.

Instead of disagreeing with him and insisting she accompany him, she slipped her hand around his and gave his fingers a squeeze that said, “We’re in this together.”

Bloody hell. No words could have undone his steadfast resolve faster than her touching him in such a loving way.

His brothers’ eyes widened. Not because of what she had done, but because of Cearnach’s hesitation. If he’d been his indomitable self, he would have stated emphatically that she would remain behind. His hesitation said volumes to anyone who might be watching. That the she-wolf knew just how to play him. And that he would go along.

She added, “I’ll insert my two cents worth if they give you a bunch of lip.”

He’d never understand the strange phrases Americans were fond of saying.

He shook his head but tightened his hand on hers, confirming they were unified in this.

“We’re accompanying you also,” Duncan said. “The portcullis is down so they won’t be coming in. We’ve got men posted around the wall walk, watching them.”

“Are you certain you want to go with us, Elaine?” Cearnach asked one last time, knowing what she would say even before she squeezed his hand marginally.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to have dragged you into this, lass.”

She let out her breath. “I’m not used to pack politics.”

“A loner?” Cearnach asked as they followed his brothers through the hallway, down the stairs, and through the great hall until they were outside the keep and striding across the inner bailey.

He knew Duncan and Guthrie were listening to their conversation, as quiet as they were. They normally ate up the stone pavers with their lanky strides. Both were walking slower to maintain Elaine’s pace and sticking closer to them.

“Yes, by choice. I’m not a follower,” she said.

“Oh.” He realized then that if she’d had no remaining family in the States and she hadn’t mated with a wolf with a pack that she’d stayed with, she had indeed been a loner.

She gave him a small smile and pulled his arm around her waist as if declaring she was fine with joining his pack. “The cobblestones are slippery.”

They were, he had to admit. He knew her cuddling against him meant much more than that, though. She was declaring that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her—again.

His brothers cast them a look over their shoulders as if to see what she had done to make the comment about the slick stones, both slightly raising their brows in unison when they saw them wrapped up together.

“Path’s slippery,” Cearnach said to his brothers, grinning and giving Elaine a squeeze.

***

Cearnach saw Robert Kilpatrick first, scowling, his face as red as his hair as he watched him, Duncan, Guthrie, and two of their cousins walk Elaine to the outer gate, the iron portcullis firmly in place. More of the MacNeill clan stood atop the wall walk armed with bows and arrows as they observed the talks. Four of Cearnach’s clansmen had shifted into wolves.

Robert’s carrot-topped brother, Edmond, and Baird McKinley stood beside him. Baird’s four brothers were milling about some distance from the gate near their two vehicles as if to show they were the backup muscle but giving enough space to indicate they had come in relative peace. From their dour expressions, all of