Page 124 of Blood & Claw

She watched it fly away before looking back at Darach. “What now?”

She’d expected his gaze to be following the raven too, yet it wasn’t. He was staring at her, his expression veiled. However, the moment she looked his way, he swiveled to Rùn once more. “We stay focused.”

Ailsa didn’t ask anything else. Instead, her attention flicked north to where the raven had flown off.

The morning was cold and still, almost breathless, with a colorless sky above. Their campsite was a bleak spot indeed, surrounded by naked trees, their twisted branches frosted with pale green lichen. However, she suddenly didn’t want to leave this sheltered corrie, as if by moving on she’d be leaving something precious behind her.

Last night had felt like something was beginning, yet in the cold light of dawn, it was as if it was already over. Her chest tightened. Maybe one night was all she and Darach were ever going to have.

He swung up onto the saddle then. “Let’s get going.”

She marked the reserve in his tawny gaze, the brisk edge to his voice. The rigid set of his shoulders reminded her of their first days on the road, and her stomach sank.

Wordlessly, Ailsa sprang up behind him, the movement light and practiced after so long on the road together. She settled herself astride Rùn, wrapping her arms around Darach’s waist.

They’d ridden like this for days now, but today, everything had shifted. His back was warm against her, yet she could almost taste his tension.

Of course, things would be different this morning; they now knew what each other looked like naked. She knew how he’d felt buried to the hilt inside her. How his mouth had tasted. How his hands had felt on her body. Those things couldn’t be undone, and whatever came now, she was glad she’d given herself to him.

She’d told him the truth about herself, and he hadn’t shrunk from her. He made her feel wanted and seen. With him, she’d discovered toe-curling pleasure as well as exhilarating freedom.

The hollow place she’d carried since leaving Braewall wasn’t gone. However, it wasn’t clawing at her this morning. Upon setting out after Kayla, she’d initially panicked. The freedom she’d once craved had lost its appeal, and all she’d wanted was to go home. But up here in The Uplands with Darach, her perspective changed once more.

Last night, for the first time in her life, she’d felt as if she truly belonged.

They picked their way out of the corrie, finding a rocky path and riding farther into The Goatfells. Ahead, the sky grew darker. The air grew dank with cold.

“Snow’s coming.” Darach’s voice was quiet, a trifle subdued. “Maybe before nightfall.”

“This early? Mid-Winter Fire is still a turn away.”

“Aye … but the weather is bleaker this far north.”

Her jaw tightened. So, they were talking about the weather now?

Nonetheless, she didn’t like the idea of being caught in a blizzard up here in the mountains—not when they hadn’t found Kayla yet.

Darach drew Rùn up then, next to where a narrow burn cut alongside the path. Dismounting, he crouched down and cast a probing gaze over the ground before testing it with his fingers. “They passed this way … last thing yesterday, I’d wager.”

Ailsa tensed. “What do you think they have planned for Kayla?”

He glanced up, his gaze sharpening.

No longer the wild lover from the night before.

Now he was a tracker and hunter. Distant and detached. A man determined to get a job done, for all their sakes. She’d helped him control the beast under his skin, but he still needed her mentor. Otherwise, the clag-doo would curse him for the rest of his days.

“After seeing that tattooing blade stuck in the warrior’s eye, I’d say they want her skills.” He paused then, his eyebrows drawing together. “And for no good purpose.”

32: THE HUNTER’S SHIELING

DARACH KEPT HIS gaze on the ground as Rùn picked his way along the narrow deer track.

Hoofprints. Broken ferns. A scuffed stone where a boot had slipped on damp moss. The signs were there if you knew how to read them, and he did. He’d learned young, at his uncle’s side.

It seemed so long ago now. He’d been so different then.

Tracking was relatively simple; easy enough to learn.