A Highland Werewolf Wedding

Damnation! Cearnach couldn’t protect Elaine like this. “Run to the kennels,” Cearnach shouted. “Lock yourself in.”



The kennels were much closer than the keep, if she could just reach them in time.



Guthrie and Cearnach swung their swords at two of the wolves while the others were fighting her cousins in wolf form.



Something more than wanting the treasure had stirred them to fight. Did they think Calla was staying at the castle? Was Baird going to war for her? Was the treasure worth a lot more than they had imagined, and Kilpatrick would do anything to get hold of it?



Elaine barely made it into the kennel, slamming the door behind her, as a wolf crashed into it, unable to turn away fast enough.



Cearnach pivoted to fight a wolf, glad Elaine was inside the kennel. Yet he still wished she was safely inside the keep and that he’d insisted that she stay there in the first place, even if it hurt her fiercely independent pride.



Chapter 25



The dogs in the kennel were barking so loudly that Elaine could hardly hear anything else as she slammed the kennel door, her heart pounding furiously as she quickly locked herself in.



For the briefest instant, she thought maybe Cearnach had been right. She should have stayed in the keep until they knew for sure everything was safe.



She shook her head. She couldn’t have done it. If she had to do it all over again, though, she’d have armed herself with one of Cearnach’s swords. She knew how to use one.



Secure the back door, she thought, but before she could turn to race that way and lock it, a man said in a harsh voice, “Hello, dear sweet Elaine, my mate, my darling.” Though his voice was roughened with age, it couldn’t be anyone other than Kelly Rafferty. “’Tis a treasure you were seeking, lass, when you returned to Scotland. ’Tis a treasure you have found.”



The blood drained from her face, her head becoming so light that she could barely stand. Kelly Rafferty. Him.



She turned around, afraid to see him, and saw the brute, older. He had the same leering expression as he devoured her with his green eyes. His long red hair hung around his shoulders and he was naked.



“You,” she said, gasping out the word and wondering if he was like Flynn, a ghostly visage, not real. She had to admit he looked damn real.



“Who hit you?” he said darkly, his gaze focusing on her bruised cheek as if he wanted to kill the bastard himself. He was the only one allowed to beat on her.



She reached up to touch her bruised face but stilled her hand.



He couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be mated to two wolves. She wanted to die. She probably would be dead as soon as Kelly knew she’d taken Cearnach as her mate. No, he’d want to keep her, abuse her, ensure she knew she was his property forever.



“I am the treasure you are seeking,” he said again as he moved toward her, and she realized that he must have slipped around the back of the kennels as a wolf while everyone else was a distraction. “You are mine.”



No, no, no. She hadn’t been his for centuries.



“You’re dead,” she said, her voice a whisper.



She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, to react. She’d feared and hated this man for the year they’d been together. She’d wanted to escape him, free herself from her bond to him. Every time he’d struck her, she’d wanted to fight back and kill him.



She’d known beyond a doubt, with all the passing years, that he was dead.



He had to be dead.



He smiled, the look so sinister that she knew he’d take a belt to her again, break her jaw, beat her until she barely lived. She wouldn’t let him this time. She wouldn’t let him beat her ever again.



“Why come for me now?” She backed toward the locked door, her legs wobbly from the shock of seeing him, her thoughts in turmoil as she tried to recall anything that would have clued her in that he had always been alive.



“I killed the last of my crew that had left me for dead,” he said, standing still, not drawing any closer now.



“No, no,” she said, recalling the words of one of his men who had come for her. “Your crew said that your quartermaster murdered you because you cheated him. After he killed you, they left him for dead because of what he’d done to you. He’d betrayed you. Not them.”



A sinister light glowed in his eyes. “My quartermaster? So they thought to make you feel they were justified in killing Terrance? He’d punished them for infractions on the ship, and the men wanted him dead also. They quickly turned on both of us, knowing that if one lived, the survivor would make them pay for their traitorous deeds. Which I did anyway. I never cheated my quartermaster out of his fair share of the treasure. He was worth his weight in gold to me.”



Despite his apparent fondness for Terrance, Rafferty was a cold-blooded murderer, a pirate, a thief, a demon. So were his men. Cutthroats, every last one of them.



The only good she’d seen in Rafferty was that he’d loved his father, as much as he could love anyone. The drunken, whoring man had drowned himself accidentally after going on a drinking binge while Rafferty was away at sea. It was the only time she’d ever seen Kelly’s eyes moisten with tears. Yet he’d quickly hidden his feelings behind a mask of indifference, swearing that his father’s love of whisky had been his undoing.



“I hired men to watch you for years. Ever wonder why all those beta wolves who’d expressed an interest in you suddenly just… vanished?” he said, breaking into her thoughts, his tone cold and imperious.



Her stomach fell. He was crazed with vengeance and willing to murder.



“You… killed my suitors,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. “You were dead,” she said again. “Your men told me so. You never returned to dispute their claim.”



Innocent. The men who had courted her had been innocent of any crime. She’d never suspected they’d been murdered. Just disappeared from her life. She’d always believed they had chickened out, been afraid to take up with an alpha.



She clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes. He’d murdered them.



She knew—even if he hadn’t come clean with her when she’d asked him before—that he had killed her parents. “You… murdered… my… parents.”



“Lass,” he said, coaxing her to see him for what he truly was. “You cannot still believe that. I never harmed your parents. I was there to pick up the pieces of your shattered life after they had that unfortunate carriage accident.”



Unfortunate. Her thoughts were whirling around and around as if in a tidal pool, threatening to drown her. He’d had so much control over her life once her parents died. What if her uncles had survived?



Her mouth dropped open. How had Lord Whittington known to arrest her uncles? Who had told him they would be arriving at port?



She’d always suspected that someone they’d stolen from had recognized them when they disembarked from the ship. What if Lord Whittington had prior warning instead? What if Rafferty had known all along where her uncles were going? And had planned to murder them to ensure they didn’t get in the way of him mating with her?



Rafferty had been furious when her uncles said they were taking her with them instead of allowing him to marry her right away. But why not have a ship accost them at sea?



Because she would have known it was Rafferty’s ship, his men, his plan. He had already set the wheels in motion to destroy her uncles in another way.



He would have known where they were going. She could see him planning this from the start. He could have sent word ahead to let Lord Whittington know her uncles were arriving in St. Andrews on an approximate date.



“You knew about my uncles. That they were hanged,” she said.



“Aye, of course. When I caught up with you, you were beside yourself with grief. Though you would not share with me what had happened, I learned soon enough what had become of them.” He shrugged. “They met their fate as so many of our kind do.”



“You had nothing to do with it?”



He didn’t even attempt to hide the wicked way his lip curled up. He stretched his hands out in appeasement and sighed. “They knew not to take you with them. I warned them.”



“You murdering bastard. You would have had them killed anyway, whether I had joined them or not.”



He sighed and changed the subject. “I’ve been here all along. You are my mate and now we are finally together again. You cannot have another. I encouraged Robert Kilpatrick to entice you to come to Scotland to find the Hawthorn treasure—’tis me, lass.” He looked demonically pleased with himself.



“You… you paid him?” Her cousin was even in on this? He had known she was still mated?



“Aye. Only he disappointed me. He stranded you with one of the MacNeill brothers. You cannot know how infuriated that made me. By the time he learned that you were his cousin, the same one he was to bring to me, it was already too late.”



Rafferty folded his arms, still too far away from her, but as soon as he drew close enough, she could only think to do one thing. Jam her knee into his naked groin. Bring the murdering bastard to his knees.



“Can I tell you how encouraging it was for me to spy you on the ramparts late last night and how discouraging that I could not reach you?” he asked.



“Why have you come for me now? Why not earlier?”



His gaze narrowed on her. “I thought you might have paid my men to mutiny on the ship. That you paid them to have me killed. I know you wanted to. They murdered my quartermaster first as he came out of my cabin, thinking it was me. He didn’t stand a chance. Poor Terrance.”



“Ha! You cheated your crew. You and your quartermaster.” She remembered clearly that day, hearing the men talking about the spoils and how the captain and the quartermaster had cheated their crew. One of the men guarding her had overheard, too. He’d glanced her way as he escorted her to the parlor, as if wondering if she’d tell her mate that one of their men had learned the truth. Then the man gave her a small smile, as if to say that if the men mutinied, she would be free of her husband and not to stand in their way. If she warned her husband, there would be dire consequences for her also.