Page 12 of Bound By Deception

“This way,” the guard, who wasn’t carrying her things, grunted. He took the stairs up to the narrow landing on the floor above.

And, as before, Bree followed—even as her belly started to pitch.

Irritated by her reaction, she curled her fingers into fists. Curse this mortal body and its weakness. What had happened to her nerves of steel? Ever since passing through the stones, her emotions had run wild.

The guard she’d been following halted then and turned to the curtained entrance to his left. “Mac Brochan,” he called out roughly. “Your bride is here.”

Meanwhile, his companion, who lugged her bags, continued up the stairs.

A heartbeat followed before a low, powerful voice replied. “Show her in then.”

Bree’s breathing caught. That voice rumbled like thunder through the curtain, and it had a rough,aggressive, edge to it.

Ancestors forgive her. She hadn’t even set eyes on her husband-to-be, and she was quailing.

Pull yourself together, she snarled inwardly.The Queen’s assassin doesn’t shake in her boots before one of the Marav. He’s no match for you.

Repeating these words to herself, she waited while the guard stepped away. Then, Bree pushed the curtain aside and walked inside.

6: FIRST IMPRESSIONS

BREE STEPPED INTO the entrance to the alcove, feeling the draft against her spine as the curtain swished shut behind her, sealing her inside with the mortal she was to soon wed.

The chief-enforcer stood with his back to her, staring down at the crackling hearth.

The first thing Bree noted was his size. He was huge, standing at least six-and-a-half feet. Of course, the fur cloak he wore around his shoulders emphasized their breadth, but there was no denying the warrior-druid filled the alcove.

The second thing she noted was the giant dog lying to his left.

The beast was indeedmassive—bigger even than the wolves that roamed the northern Uplands of Albia. And as she stared at the hound, it raised its head, golden glowing eyes fixing upon her. Bree’s already fast pulse lurched into a gallop.

This dog, with its pricked ears and long moss-green coat, didn’t belong to this world, but her own. Fae hounds guarded the territory around barrows, protecting the portals between the realms from the Marav.

Mortals usually feared these creatures, calling them ‘harbingers of death’. Fae hounds were silent hunters, yet its bloodcurdling howl had been known to stop men’s hearts.

Bree hadn’t expected to find onehere.

The dog watched her, its glowing eyes unnervingly bright. And then it cocked its head.

Sweat slid between Bree’s shoulder blades.Shit. This was the last thing she needed. She wasn’t glamored, but she now worried that the hound would see through her Marav shell, to who she really was inside.

Don’t be a fool … of course, it can’t.

Since passing through the stones, she’d noted that she’d lost the ability to touch minds with animals—a gift all Shee were blessed with. Fia’s pony was a sweet-tempered beast, but his thoughts had been closed to her.

And just as well too; that way, this fae hound wouldn’t unmask her.

Swallowing hard, she tore her attention from the dog, her gaze sliding over the stacked-stone walls surrounding her—where iron swords, axes, and pikes hung—to the low beams that crisscrossed overhead. The alcove itself was sparsely furnished with just a single wooden table lined by two benches. It was ameeting room of sorts—a decent-sized space—but the big man and his monstrous dog made it seem cramped.

Bree focused once more on the chief-enforcer. From the back, his neck appeared thick and bullish, his crow-colored hair cropped short to his head. He stood with his legs slightly apart, his hands by his sides, as if readying himself for a fight.

Drawing in a deep breath through her nose and then slowly releasing it through her mouth, Bree concentrated on steadying herself. Her arrival in Duncrag had knocked her off-course, but she needed to regain control of her emotions and senses.

She also had to remember that she was playing a role now.

She was Fia mac Callum—a ‘Maid of Albia’—a young woman tutored to become the wife of a high-born man or a military leader. She’d recently learned that ordering a ‘Maid of Albia’ for a wife was costly, although these women were famed for their grace and good manners. From the age of twelve, they were taught how to please their men.

Burying her distaste, both for the woman she was impersonating and this world that she was forced to inhabit, Bree gently cleared her throat. “My lord?”

---