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“You are not a hound. I treat you well and I see that no harm comes to you, nor will I ever harm you,” he said, not wanting her to live as his wife in fear.

“But you will never love me let alone care for me and without at least one, I believe the heart withers and dies, so forgive me if what you offer me is not enough.”

“I care for you. You are my wife,” he said without thinking about it. So, did he care for her?

“You care for me because I am your wife, but you do not care for ME,” —Tavia planted her hand against her chest— “the person I am. But how could you when you do not truly know me.”

“You talk in riddles, woman,” he snapped, annoyed. “You are my wife and I care for you, and I will see you kept safe since you have a habit of making foolish decisions.”

“Aye,” she said and smiled. “I wed you.”

Her playful, teasing retort had him smiling. “A lucky day for you for sure.”

“That can be debated,” she argued still smiling.

His eyes roamed over her. How had she become so appealing to him when she challenged him at almost every turn? Or was that it? Did he like the unexpected challenges? Or her unpredictable nature when he had thought her so docile? She was a bit of a mystery, soft and obedient at times and difficult and stubborn at other times.

But weren’t they common traits among most women? And were they the reason why women could be mysterious creatures? His thought almost had him laughing, but he contained it.

“Have you always had a way with animals?” he asked.

“I never gave it thought, but it is not so much a way as it is kindness.” She stepped close to her husband and rested her hand on his folded arms. “Please give me and Fen a chance. You waste his intelligence on being a war hound when he is so much more.”

“You took a dangerous chance with him. He has tasted blood. It is in him now to kill.”

“Perhaps he has grown tired of it, especially after suffering in pain for so long. Perhaps the taste of blood no longer appeals to him,” she said, casting a gentle glance at the hound resting comfortably by the fire, though his eyes remained on Bhric.

“If you have succeeded in spoiling him, letting him sleep in the keep, he may be good for nothing now.”

Tavia gave his arm a light squeeze. “He would be a good hound for you, obedient and more importantly loyal… if you but give him a chance.”

“I have all the loyalty I need,” Bhric said and wondered if she also asked for a chance for herself as well.

She shook her head. “Not like the loyalty Fen would give you. He is healing nicely. Let him spend the day with us, so you can see for yourself.”

That she thought to spend the day with him without any nudging from him caught his attention more than the hound spending time with him. Did she wish to spend the day with him, or did she feel he expected her to?

“You have no other plans?” he asked to see what she would say.

“Besides seeing how Lath does, I planned to see how the old couple, Glenna and William, who still linger here, are doing. They are not capable of travel. I believe it would be wise of them to remain here for the winter or perhaps seek a home with the clan.”

“Will you have them obeying you as you do the hounds?” Bhric asked and immediately regretted his words when she was taken aback, though it was too late to recall them. He was annoyed that she so easily trusted people and hounds. One day it could prove dangerous.

“Friendship is all I have to offer people and hounds,” Tavia said, her hand slipping off his arm.

He grew more annoyed that she moved her hand off him. He favored her touch, simple as it was. Though, he wondered far too often how more of an intimate touch of hers would feel.

“We will see how Fen does with us today,” he said, thinking Fen would prove himself one way or another and seal his fate.

The Great Hall was empty. It would be an hour or more before anyone would stir.

“Fen needs to go out and I would like to see how Lath does before breakfast,” Tavia said.

Bhric grabbed a fur-lined cloak from the few kept by the door and draped it over her shoulders, then grabbed his that hung there. They stepped outside to see a ray of light peek on the horizon, dawn ready to break. Cold air stung their cheeks and before Bhric could take his wife’s hand to help her down the steps, fearful they could be icy and her limp would cause her to slip, Fen took a stance on the step below the one she was on so that she had no choice but to maneuver the steps slowly.

Perhaps the hound would prove useful to his wife, a thought he had not considered but he intended to consider now.

Bhric took her arm, to assist her and Fen moved away to drift off and see to his duties. He noticed the hound’s eyes never left Tavia. He kept a good watch over her.

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