A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,9

not with Calla marrying the wrong wolf. He liked her family and they seemed to like him, but he was sure they wouldn’t care for him being here and upsetting things between Calla and her groom.

Elaine quickly studied the building and appeared to be fascinated by the design. She looked like she was a tourist. Maybe she had never been to Scotland before. He could just imagine her pulling out a camera and taking pictures. Yet, he’d bet that she had been. That he’d met her somewhere, and she didn’t want him to recall the incident.

Before she reached into her bag for a camera, he escorted her up the stone steps and into the church.

The front pews were packed with family and friends, most of the males wearing traditional Highland dress. The tartans of different clans were on display, but predominant were the red of the Stewarts and the blue, green, and red of the McKinleys. The MacNeill plaid Cearnach wore was also a blue and green, but with yellow instead of red in the sett.

The bride wore a gown of white and the bridesmaids were in lavender—to match the purple flowers decorating the church, Cearnach thought. Calla looked devastatingly beautiful, her long red-blond hair swept up in a bun, ringlets of curls framing her face, and small flowers decorating her hair as she stood in the wings with her father. She was mostly hidden from the view of the gathered friends and family as she waited while the closest family members were escorted to their seats up front.

Lavender, lilacs, heather, and thistle filled clear glass vases around the outer walls, scenting the confines of the small church. Stained-glass windows let in a small amount of dismal light from the gloomy day. Modern-day lights resembling candles in brass and glass flutes helped to brighten the church somewhat. Dark oak pews that had been used by Highlanders and guests for centuries during worship beckoned him to take a seat, the ends draped in lavender satin bows, ribbons, and flowers.

He glanced at Elaine to see her opinion of the wedding. She was smiling, her gaze sweeping the rest of the gathered clansmen, taking in their clothes and the chapel, breathing in deeply to capture the perfumed air and wolf scents.

As she stood there in that provocative dress, looking seductive and enticing, he wondered what Elaine was really doing here in Scotland. When had she been here before? Even though it was none of his concern, he found he wanted to know more about her: why she knew him, why he knew her, and why she didn’t want him to remember their former association.

In her red dress and with her dark hair, she stood out among the gathered wedding guests, striking and utterly appealing. In one sense, she looked like she was Little Red Riding Hood among the big bad wolves, an outsider, American, not invited to the wedding—and no one would want her here because she was with him.

He noted that the bride’s family was seated on the left side of the church. He was about to escort Elaine to the last pew, which was empty, when she whispered, “I would think you’d have some friends here at the wedding who could help you out.”

She hadn’t asked him a question so he didn’t respond, not wanting to explain that he was here because of Calla, and no one else would be happy to see him.

“Which side are you here for? Groom or bride?” Elaine asked, her voice ultra-low.

“Bride.” When her eyes widened, he clarified, “She’s a friend.”

Elaine’s mouth gaped briefly, then she smiled darkly. “Figures she’d marry someone else.”

Hadn’t he just said Calla was a friend? Not his intended mate? Before he could respond, Elaine pulled her arm free from his hand. He hadn’t realized he’d still been gripping her, keeping her close to him as if protecting her from any other wolf’s interest.

Several of the friends and family members of the bride and groom glanced back over the pews at Cearnach and Elaine, their expressions annoyed that anyone would be this late in arriving at the church as the bride walked up the aisle with her father, the music announcing that part of the ceremony. Then the guests’ eyes widened as they saw just who had arrived. Cearnach definitely wasn’t someone they expected or wanted to attend. Like the gray day outside, the expressions on the groom’s side were especially stormy.

Calla looked back and beamed at Cearnach. Her brilliant smile radiated