By the Light of the Scottish Moon - Unrated (My Kilted Wolf, #1) (6 page)

F
reya sat up and curled into a protective ball, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Why have you come, Bryn?”

“Ye should not die alone.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “But I don’t want to die.”

A look of anguish washed over him. Bryn shook it off, growling under his breath before walking over and picking her up. Despite her vocal protests, he carried her up the stairs and placed her gently on the soft bed.

It wasn’t until he lay down beside her that she noted how completely and utterly naked he was, but he didn’t seem to notice. He enfolded her in his protective arms and breathed into her ear, “Yer safe now.”

His voice filled her with profound peace and she repeated the word “safe”, no longer concerned about his lack of clothes.

“Try to think of death as a gift.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head as fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

“Try,” he encouraged.

They lay there in silence as Freya tried to calm the panic building inside her, convincing herself that the end rushing towards her was wanted.

She couldn’t.

Freya cried out in fear when the next wave of pain hit. Bryn stroked her hair whispering soothingly, “Shhh… shhh… It’s almost over, ye have almost won the battle.”

After the pain had passed, she looked up at him gratefully. “Thank you for protecting me from the others… and for being here with me now.”

“I’ve seen enough brutal deaths in ma life. I dinnae want to add ye to the list.”

Another spasm wracked her body and she groaned in agony.

His voice was gentle when he told her, “Do not fight it.”

Freya shook her head violently. “You don’t understand. It’s in my nature to fight.”

“Aye, but I do,” he snorted, with an admiring grin. “I’m the same. I must keep fighting, even when I
kin
all is lost.”

She gazed into his eyes, losing herself in their fiery depths. “Is that the reason for those scars on your back?”

Anguish darkened his amber eyes as Bryn shifted, propping his back against the headboard and choosing not to answer her.

“Is it the reason you were at the tree tonight?” she prodded.

He continued to remain silent.

While Freya was contemplating how to get him to open up, a searing fire clawed through her middle. She looked up at him in pain and fear, not ready for what was coming.

“Please talk, Bryn. Your voice soothes me.”

He nodded in empathy and began, his tone lulling and kind even though what he shared was anything but. “To answer yer question, it was under that very tree I vowed to the Mistress that I would do whatever was needed to ensure the survival of our pack. Fer countless years, we’d been under the rule of a progressively unstable
Ceannard
, one that seemed to be systematically destroying our future as a clan. I fought hard fer our survival, believing I had the Moon’s blessing, but in fighting to protect The Chosen, I ended up sacrificing all that mattered to me.”

He stared down at her, stating matter-of-factly, “Our
Ceannard
was a cruel and shortsighted leader, threatening our very existence by targeting the humans that live in this region. We’ve coexisted fer centuries by keeping ourselves hidden amongst them, but over time he’d grown to despise all humans and longed to declare war. When one of our respected elders, Keir, questioned his wisdom, Ranulf made a terrible and bloody example of him.”

Bryn stroked her hair tenderly as she suffered through another wave of pain before continuing. His voice remained calm, even serene, despite the story he shared. “Ranulf called Keir up before the assembly at Sacred Point and asked him to explain his concerns to the pack. Naturally, Keir was flattered by such an honor and humbly shared his reservations, all of which were valid.

“Our
Ceannard
listened carefully, but surprised us by laughing afterwards. Using Keir’s words against him, he told the pack. ‘Ye claim ye cannae fight against the humans in our territory and I agree with ye.’ Ranulf addressed the rest of us with a cruel leer that spoke to his intent. ‘Unfailing obedience to yer
Ceannard
is the law!’

“He ordered Keir to bow before him. I’ll never forget the resignation on Keir’s face as he fell to his knees. He had done nothing wrong, and yet the entire pack stood quietly, doing nothing as our
Ceannard
transformed into wolf form.

“I refused to stand by and watch a respected member of our pack die, so I transformed into a wolf to the violent protests of my family.”

“They didn’t join you?” she asked in disbelief.

“Ranulf was
Ceannard
fer a reason, Freya. He was the strongest of all the Alphas and I was no match against his strength or brutality. He played with me the way a cat does with a mouse as he finished off Keir in front of the assembly, tearing the old man limb from limb. Ranulf saved Keir’s throat fer last, so that the entire pack would remember his screams of agony.”

Freya shuddered, imagining the bloody scene.

“Would ye prefer I stop?” Bryn asked, cradling her closer to him.

“Please don’t.”

“Very well.” He sighed deeply before continuing, “It was quick and brutal when he finally stopped toying with me. Any attacks I scored were simply because Ranulf allowed it. When the final attack came, I fell to the ground to protect my underbelly. He closed his teeth around the back of my neck and ripped my back with his claws. My whole body went numb, smelling his blood-tainted breath as he shredded my skin.

“But I’ll never forget that moment when I accepted my death—I felt total peace.”

Bryn looked down at Freya tenderly. “Ye will feel the same.”

She nodded, wanting to believe him.

He let out a deep and painful groan. “If only I had died…”

Bryn gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Instead, I woke up to the terrified screams of my sister. I regained consciousness in time to see her gutted by my
Ceannard
.”

His voice caught when he shared, “She looked at the pack and whimpered, ‘I don’t want to die’ before choking on her own blood.” Freya felt warm tears drop onto her arm as he stated bitterly, “Not
one
tried to save her.”

“But what about your parents?”

“They were already dead. My entire family-line wiped out fer my insubordination.” Bryn held her tighter. “As Ranulf stood gloating over her body, I gathered all my hatred and found the strength to stand. I came up behind him while the pack remained silent and then I lunged, ripping out his throat before he knew what’d happened. I fell next to my sister’s body fully expecting to die.

“With blood pouring from his gaping wound, Ranulf turned to finish me. That’s when the pack finally responded, jumping on him as one unit. In a matter of seconds, our great
Ceannard
was dead.” Bryn paused, adding with regret, “Unfortunately, I did not die with him.”

Freya stiffened in his arms as another, more intense spasm took over. It was so severe she nearly blacked out from the pain. Through it, Bryn murmured words of comfort. Once passed, she asked with great effort, “Tell me what happened after Ranulf died.”

“My pack tended to my wounds when normally they would have put me out of my misery. I don’t know why, death would have been a welcomed gift. When it was determined I had healed enough to lead, they made me
Ceannard.”

“The chief among your people?”

“Aye. They meant it as an honor, but I see it only as punishment. I’m bound to protect them and cannae give in to the call of death, no matter how sweetly she sings.” He looked down at her tenderly. “The truth is I envy ye tonight, and would join ye if I could.”

She closed her eyes. “Bryn…”

“Aye, lass?”

“Could you save me?”

He growled, pulling away from her. “Ye cannae know what ye ask!”

She opened her eyes. “But you can, can’t you?”

He left the bed, pacing the room like a crazed animal.

Freya held out her hand to him, begging, “Please don’t leave me…”

He stared at her from across the room, refusing to budge until another spasm wracked her body. He returned to her then, holding her tight as she trembled in his arms.

“Freya, ye must understand that it would be crueler fer me to save ye than to let ye die.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t agree.”

Bryn took her face in both his hands and forced her to stare into his foreign, dangerous eyes. “Yes, I can save ye, but the solution would be worse than the dying. This life is not fer ye and the process of the transformation itself is violent.”

“Tell me how you do it, please.”

“To experience the
Athrú
, I would have to kill ye. A bite alone would not cause the transformation.
Athrú
requires yer heart to stop beating as I bite. It is only in death a werewolf can emerge.”

“That doesn’t scare me, Bryn. I’m already dead.”

He lifted her chin, and chided gently, “Ye only seek escape from it because yer frightened right now.”

“No…” She laughed through her tears, certain she was seeing everything clearly for the first time. “Ever since my death sentence was given to me a month ago, I believed I was coming home to die, but now I know that’s
not
the reason I came back.”

Her hand shook with excitement as she caressed his strong, masculine jaw and confessed, “Bryn, I came for you.”

His eyes narrowed, as he shook his head.

Freya nodded, smiling with confidence. “It all makes sense now. I’ve had visions about you ever since I returned to Scotland. You said yourself that you don’t believe in accidents and I agree. It was no accident I came upon you the night of the bonfire, no accident that I happened upon you at the pub and no accident when I found you tonight. I wasn’t meant to die, I was meant for you so that you could finally live.”

“Nae!” he growled. “It would not be right.”

“Please, Bryn. I don’t want to be separated from you now that I’ve found you.”

His voice was low and tortured when he explained, “I cannae, Freya. If I were to perform the
Athrú,
it would be fer purely selfish reasons.”

“Listen to me.” She wrapped her arms behind his neck and gazed deep into his amber eyes. “You said you thought you had the Moon’s blessing when you vowed to protect the pack from your
Ceannard
. I believe this is her answer for your obedience.”

Bryn’s eyes softened.

“Honor the Moon’s blessing for you, Bryn.”

He shook his head again. “I’m a cursed wolf. Dinnae ask this, ye will regret it, Freya.”

“But I want this—for us.”

She saw a brief look of hope before his eyes became cold and hard. “Werewolves cannae perform the
Athrú
without approval from the pack. Changing humans is extremely rare, something only done when a pack is dying out or to fortify numbers during times of war.”

“Surely as
Ceannard
you can bend the rules?”

“They would never agree to it. The act would be seen as an abuse of my power. I would be challenged fer ignoring the law.”

“Then let’s run away and start a new life together.”

He snarled. “Ye show yer ignorance, Freya McKenna. I am the
Ceannard.
I will
never
leave the pack. I’m bound to protect it until I die.” He stood up, transforming into a wolf before her. Bryn glared at her accusingly with those blazing amber eyes before running off.

“Please, Bryn, please don’t leave me to die!” she cried after him.

The feeling of loss overwhelmed her, hurting more deeply than any pain she’d endured. Freya rocked herself as she screamed into her pillow. How could he leave her?

Freya whimpered pitifully when a deep, stabbing pain cut through her middle and would not stop. Eventually, she was forced to accept the darkness that demanded her soul. It became her escape to seek it and a calmness settled over her.

She closed her eyes and whispered to the heavens, “I’m not afraid anymore…”

Freya smelled the wolf before she felt his warm, moist breath. She forced her eyes open and smiled up at him.