Page 31 of A Wolf's Bargain
Nervous chuckles rippled through the room, but they disappeared at the man’s low growl. “It was a mistake!” he snapped. “Your husband had no right to enter a union—let alone such a perverse one as this—without consulting us!”
Cillian’s angry snarl quieted the crowd before Cora could answer. He leaned forward on the table, his teeth bared. His eyes flashed as he reached for the gold pin over his heart. “You’ll keep a civil tongue when you speak to my wife, Elder, or I’ll remove it myself.”
The old woman stepped between the two men. She raised her hands in a sign of peace while she cast disapproving glances at them both. “Cillian, that’s enough!” she barked. “You know better than to speak to an elder this way.”
Before Cillian could protest, she turned to the elder. “Youwill remember we are guests in this camp. Cillian is the alpha here, and you will show him respect.”
A moment passed, then both men nodded in agreement. The old woman turned her attention to Cora. Again, she looked her up and down, an unreadable expression on her face. “Quite a lot of fuss over you, isn’t it? Do you even understand why?”
Under normal circumstances, Cora would be terrified. A small corner of her brain insisted that she should be terrified. But she wasn’t. She was furious.
“From what I can see, it’s because your elders are inexplicably threatened by short, human women.”
The corner of the woman’s mouth twitched but resettled a second later. She turned her attention to Cillian and said, “We received word that Cillian Fane, alpha of Clan Fáelad, had takena wife. Imagine our surprise when none of the women of our clan knew anything about it?”
“Am I to send a message every time I take a piss, too?”
The woman arched a single imperious brow but otherwise seemed unmoved by Cillian’s comment. “You had to know how this would look, Cillian. A human woman? Married to the most well-known alpha of his generation without so much as a whisper to the other clans? You didn’t give the women ofClann Abhaileso much as a sniff when you visited last. There were many fine choices there.”
Something sharp and ugly writhed in her heart at the idea of Cillian married to one of those women. Warrior women. Women who could be wolves like him. She imagined him smiling at her—this other woman—and barely resisted the urge to growl.
Cillian glanced her way and smirked. “Cora made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
The old man spoke up again, still clearly upset. “What could she have possibly offered to make you go against your own kind? The luchthonn have never mixed with the humans before!”
Cillian’s sharp laugh echoed in the tent. “You were in a roaming pack yourself once, Elder. With all due respect, you’re telling me that no one ever enjoyed a visit to the local villages in all that time?”
The man sputtered and snarled. His reaction was all the answer that was needed. The old woman cleared her throat and gave the man a pointed look. “I think we can all agree that casual... encounters are not the same as lifelong bonding. But that’s neither here nor there. I too am curious about this offer.”
Cillian sighed in annoyance but explained the circumstances of their marriage. He described the situation in her father’s lands and the threat of Edwin’s invasion. His description of her arrival and offer differed somewhat from her own memory of theevent. She noticed that he conveniently left out the part where he nearly frightened her to death.
The old woman listened, occasionally interrupting with a question. “I’m not sure I understand the benefit for you—for the luchthonn—in this agreement. What is it you hope to gain from this alliance with Ossory?”
Cillian gestured around the room and replied, “Look around you. Even with themadraí, our numbers grow smaller each year. Meanwhile, the humans multiply like fucking rabbits. When our elders were young, it didn’t matter that the luchthonn roamed in packs because there was enough room to go around. Now, it seems every piece belongs to some lord or another, and they’re just as likely to chase us off as they are to hire us. Those that only know rumors won’t let us near for fear the stories are true. Those that know the truth won’t let us near because they fear what they don’t understand. We need a home for the roaming packs—a place where our males are safe between their jobs. A place where there’s no risk of pitchforks and priests.”
He paused, then nodded toward Cora. “My mate is the daughter of Lord Fergus Kilkenny of Ossory. Our agreement came with the condition that he allow the luchthonn to settle here undisturbed. This land is ours forever. In exchange, he charged the luchthonn as Ossory’s solemn protectors. We’ll guard the borders and protect the people as though they’re our own for as long as we claim this land.”
The old woman nodded thoughtfully. She said nothing for several moments, then turned to the older man who’d been so outspoken. “A slightly better deal than he would have gotten by mating your girl, isn’t it?”
The man scowled but remained silent. Cora tried and failed to keep a self-righteous smile from her face. When it seemed everyone was waiting for someone else to speak, she stepped forward.
“I know that ours is not the usual union—for humans or luchthonn. Necessity, not love, was the foundation of the match. It has not been a... smooth transition. I have had much to learn about your people. But I’ve found happiness here, and I consider this pack my own. You may disagree with what we have done, but the fact is that you can’t change it. What’s done is done, and though I may not wear the wolf’s skin, I think you’ll find that I’m quite willing to fight for my home and my mate.”
The elders stared at her as though they hadn’t noticed her before. As though she hadn’t been real.
She was damn well real now, wasn’t she?
Cillian grinned from across the room, his eyes shining with pride. Heat flared, a tangible thing despite the distance between them. They hadn’t been intimate since their wedding night, but Cora hoped that would change soon.
It had to.
Cillian clapped his hands together and asked, “So, any other questions? Or can we all go back to minding our own bloody business?”
Most of the elders nodded and filed out of the tent. The old man said nothing, just bowed to them before making his way outside.
Finally, the tent was empty except for the old woman, Cillian, and Cora. When everyone was gone, she looked at them and smiled, the ice in her expression melting for the first time. “You never could resist a spectacle, could you, lad?” she asked.
Cillian shrugged and drew the woman in for a fond embrace. “I’m not the one who showed up at your house and questioned your sanity, am I?”