would be to openly admit he had been born on the wrong side of the blanket. “I know that’s not true. You’re the pack alpha. So keep them away from her. Sorcha deserves better than a drooling Lycan.”
“Does she?” Eynsford lowered his voice. “Do you suppose she deserves a vampyre instead?”
“I never said such a thing.”
“But you’ve thought it, MacQuarrie. I can see it on your face. So let me make myself clear—you may have known Sorcha all her life, but that means very little to me. The lass is part of Cait’s circle, which makes her part of my circle. And I will look out for her best interests.”
“Then you’d better keep an eye on those brothers of yours,” Alec growled as he noticed Cait closing in on them.
He glanced in her direction, nodded a greeting, and stepped away. “Good evening, Lady Eynsford.”
If that damned marquess wouldn’t keep his pack in line, then Alec would have to do it for him.
Chapter Eleven
Sorcha grinned up at Archer Hadley, Viscount Radbourne, as he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.
“You know,” he began quietly as he directed her toward a less populated area of the ballroom, “I have thought about nothing but you since last night.”
“You have?” she asked, not certain what else to say.
“Hmm.” He dipped his head closer to hers. “It’s a novel experience spending time with a lass who knows what I am. Rare indeed.”
Havers! He still looked slightly discomfited by the fact that she knew about his Lycan heritage. “I meant what I said, Archer. I will never tell anyone yer secret,” she said, trying to reassure him.
Archer smiled down at her, and his dark amber eyes glittered from the warm chandelier light above. “I trust you, lass. It’s just nice not to have to pretend with you.”
“Ta pretend ye’re somethin’ ye’re no’.” She agreed with a nod. Sorcha could most assuredly understand that. Only the families of her fellow coven sisters knew what she was.
Well, and Alec. But, no one else. It was often difficult to walk the line of being who she truly was while keeping that part of her a secret from the rest of the world. “I understand completely.”
He placed his hand over hers on his arm and squeezed.
“Somehow I think you do.”
“I am curious about the transformation.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “I’d love ta hear more about it, if ye’d like ta tell me.”
A slight blush crept up Archer’s neck and he glanced away from her as though he was embarrassed. “I’ve never told anyone about that. My brothers, of course, know all about it and our mother has never asked.”
“Yer father probably told her,” Sorcha suggested. After all, if she married a Lycan, she’d demand to know all there was about the creatures. Everything Cait and Elspeth had refused to tell her. That alone made the information worthy of knowing. If it was something mundane, there wouldn’t be a need to keep secrets or blush to the color of ripe tomatoes whenever Sorcha asked for details, would there?
Of course not. Perhaps Archer Hadley would tell her everything she wanted to know. “How does the change come on? Do ye feel it all day or—”
“Dear God,” the viscount suddenly grumbled beneath his breath. “This is an experience I could have done without.” A most stern expression crossed his face as he looked over her shoulder.
“I beg yer pardon,” Sorcha began as she spotted Alec, a severe look upon his face, barreling in their direction.
“Every time I’m speaking with a pretty Scottish lass, some vampyre or another wants to steal her from me.”
“Every time?” Sorcha couldn’t help but giggle. That couldn’t possibly be true. What a silly thing to say.
“Rhiannon and Blodswell,” Archer explained. Then he waggled his brow suggestively. “What is it about the bloodsuckers that you lasses find so irresistible?”
“Perhaps it’s the lack of drool,” Alec drawled as he stopped at Sorcha’s side and placed his hand on her shoulder.
Sorcha frowned up at him. “Alec! There was no need for that.”
“Oh, there was a need,” he assured her. Then he leveled his glare on Archer Hadley. “You can take your fleas and go bother someone else.”
The Lycan arched one dark, golden brow. “Am I bothering you, Sorcha?”
“Of course not,” she began, but Alec squeezed her shoulder in warning. When had Alec MacQuarrie become a brute?
“I have a few things I need to discuss with my countrywoman.”