Page 16 of A Wolf's Bargain

“Was it, now? And who told you that?”

“I—” Cora searched for an answer and failed.

“You went and convinced yourself that someone ought to play at being a hero, and you volunteered yourself, my love. And now you’ve made a promise that you must keep. I only fear that you will come to regret it.”

Cora thought of the way Fane had looked at her on the ride back to her father’s home. He’d watched her with those icy eyes, and while she wouldn’t say she felt safe, she was reasonably certain that he wouldn’t murder her on their wedding night. For now, he needed her alive.

He’d said little to her during the journey home, but when he had, it had been—well, not kind, but not cruel or aggressive. He’d been trying, she thought, to put her at ease, and he didn’t have to do that. When not speaking to her, he’d smiled and joked with his men. He hadn’t seemed quite as cold as he had when she’d barged into his tent.

He’d been a right arse when he’d approached her father. His threats had seemed authentic enough, and Cora knew he could make good on them. Who was the real Cillian Fane? The cold, dangerous king of the wildlings? The cruel, biting negotiator who’d agreed to her terms only when they suited him best?

The monster who still haunted her dreams?

Sometimes she thought she’d dreamed it all. She told herself that she must have imagined the beast he’d become at his camp. It was fatigue—nothing more. But then she caught sight of the wolf skin around his neck and remembered everything. She considered telling Deirdre what she’d seen but decided against it. It was her love for the old woman that kept her mouth closed. Deirdre already had her own thoughts about Cillian and his men, and she likely believed the stories about him the way most people believed in angels. They’d say on a Sunday mass that the winged messengers from heaven were real, but it wouldn’t stop them from attacking if they met one on the road.

Deirdre didn’t need to know her fears were accurate. To know the truth about Fane and his luchthonn would only frighten her. Cora forced a smile to her lips and laid a hand on Deirdre’s shoulder. “If I must marry, I want to help those I love the most. Cillian Fane and his men will protect our people. For that, I will go to him with a happy heart. Besides, it could be worse. I could marry some simpering dandy who couldn’t lift a sword without breaking a nail!”

Deirdre covered Cora’s hand with her own. “No,A stór, you’ve chosen someone far more dangerous than that.” Shecleared her throat and patted Cora’s hand before turning back to her work. “Still, what’s done is done. You’ve already agreed, and you will honor that agreement. I only pray he sees what a treasure he’s found.”

CORA PRAYED THAT Apretty dress and flowers in her hair would be enough to hide the way her knees shook.

Rare as her childish imaginings of her wedding had been, she still recalled what she’d wished for. She’d pictured a beautiful gown and flowers woven through her hair. A hundred candles filling the great hall with a soft, warm light, and everyone she loved crowding around to wish her well.

Her reality would be quite different. She would wed Cillian Fane outside, in the middle of the night, with only her father for support. Cillian had insisted. Apparently, his people required that all weddings take place under a full moon. Their choices were few. The next full moon was only two days away. Her father suggested waiting until the following month, but Cillian refused.

A day after her conversation with Deirdre, Cora waited at the entrance of her home. She paced back and forth in front of the door, wringing the stems of the bunch of wildflowers one of the kitchen girls had brought her. Her hair hung loose and wild down her back—another one of Cillian’s demands. A woman of her station would often be married with elaborate braids and jewels on her dress. Her husband-to-be had requested a plain dress and for her hair to be left free for their bonding. Her father had tried to argue, but it had done no good. Cillian Fane was nothing if not stubborn, and he’d made his expectations for their farce of a marriage clear. She would come to him like some sort of poor forest fairy under the full moon, and somehow that would satisfy the traditions of his people.

Footsteps behind her distracted her from her thoughts. Her father approached, his face solemn and drawn as though he hadn’t slept in days. Perhaps he hadn’t. God knew she hadn’t slept herself since before she’d sold her soul to the devil.

“Are you well, Da?”

It wasn’t often that she called him that. For propriety’s sake, he required her to refer to him as “Father” or “My Lord.” He hadn’t been “Da” to her since childhood. It seemed appropriate at that moment.

He tried to smile, but only one side of his mouth obeyed. “Aye,A leanbh. You remind me of your mother tonight.”

Cora tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and grimaced. “I’d hope she was a wee bit more excited about her own wedding.”

Her father laughed and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Oh, I’m sure she was plotting her escape right until the very end.”

Cora’s eyes widened in surprise. “Surely not! I thought you were a love match?”

Her father’s smile turned sad. “I loved your mother from the first moment I saw her. I spotted her at a county fair and knew there would never be another for me. It wasn’t so easy for her, but I’d like to think that by the end, we made each other happy.”

Cora had been young when her mother died, but she still remembered the few times she’d come across her parents locked in an embrace. Her mother had never appeared to be anything but madly in love with her husband, and suddenly, that was all Cora wanted for herself.

Was it too much to hope for when she’d agreed to marry a man like Cillian Fane? Would she ever know love like her parents, or would she be sentenced to a life of icy stares and frightening monsters?

Cora gathered up her courage and kissed her father’s cheek. “You made her happy, Da. I know it. May God bless me enough to know the love of a man like you.”

Tears gathered at the corner of her father’s eyes as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Oh, my darling girl. ‘Tis my only prayer now, that you will know love. What you’ve done... you’ve sacrificed for our people. I pray that somehow, some way, you will not be completely unhappy. “

If it wasn’t a typical prayer for a bride, that was fine. She wasn’t a typical bride. This wouldn’t be a typical wedding.

The bells in the church tower rang, jolting them from their moment of peace. It was time. Her father straightened his back and gave her a hard look. “Chin up, Cora. Hold your head high and show no fear, no matter what you feel. Let him see your strength. You’ve chosen to do a very brave thing for the sake of your people. Do not let him forget that.”

Cora tightened her grip on the wildflowers and nodded, thankful for her father’s presence. He’d seemed so angry before, but now she couldn’t imagine being in this moment without him. She thanked God for whatever clarity he’d found to allow him to forgive her. When he offered her his arm, she took it gratefully.

“I’m ready.”