Chapter 12
"Bloody hell." Staringat the dozen or more wolves advancing toward him, Torr withdrew his sword and held it at the ready. How did Scotland still have so many wolves? He'd heard they'd been eradicated years ago. Vicious, jagged teeth exposed, the snarling beasts lunged at him. He slashed his blade at them but met thin air. He continued slicing and thrusting, but as he glanced around, he saw no animals. They had all vanished.
How...?
Eerie prickles covered him as his mind scrambled for the answer.
An illusion... created by the witch.
"Damnation! The fire," he muttered, racing back inside the inn and up the steps. That had not been an illusion. He'd felt the heat of it, smelled the smoke.
Wilona MacRae must have caused the candle to explode, trying to kill Cat and him. What else might the hag do?
Had she somehow known he and Cat were indulging in sensual pursuits?
He entered Cat's room and found her asleep, safely tucked in bed. Relieved, he sat on the padded settle near the hearth to guard her.
Mind racing, he wanted to pace but knew his footfalls would wake Cat. He had to get her back to Blacktower as soon as possible. But, even there, she could be in danger. He could not guard her when he was in kelpie form, for they could not be together. Unless she bedded down in the stables.
Nonsense.
Sometime later, Torr startled awake, not realizing he had slept. Evening was closing in, but Cat still slumbered. She must have been exhausted. Would she remain safe until he enquired about their supper?
***
THE NOISE OF THE DOORopening and closing startled Cat awake. She peered from under the covers, remembering they were at an inn.
"Good eve. How did you sleep?" Torr set a tray of steaming food on the bedside table.
"Wonderfully." She'd had captivating dreams which continued their earlier sensual explorations.
After pushing the covers down a bit more, she glanced at the window. "Is it evening already?"
"Aye."
The hot flood of memories from that morn made her almost giddy. She wanted to drag him under the covers with her.
"'Tis almost sundown, and I must return to the wood," he said. "Mistress MacGillivray cooked us a nice supper. After you eat, dress and meet me in the wood. We'll travel on to Blacktower tonight."
She sat up. "Where have you been all day?"
"Here, mostly. Guarding you from that settle. I'm near certain Wilona MacRae caused the candle to explode."
Cat's mind struggled for an explanation. "How? Why?"
"She must have been observing from some distance. When I was outside, she caused a wolf pack illusion. 'Twas as if a dozen wolves charged at me, but when I slashed my sword at them, they were naught but mist."
Cat could hardly fathom it. "Saints! How terrifying."
He shrugged. "I was up for the challenge."
His bravery and swordsmanship always impressed her, but the delicious scents of the food lured her. Wrapped in the sheet, she slid to the edge of the bed and took a bite of the mutton stew. Delicious. She hadn't realized she was so hungry.
"Are you going to eat?" she asked.
"I already have."
Why on earth would he not wish to eat with her? She observed his scowl. "Are you cross with me?"
