Page 17 of Bound By Deception

Cailean grunted.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Torran folded his arms across his chest. Like Cailean’s, they bore inked swirls of druidic tattoos. And like his captain, he wore a sturdy leather vest with a knife belt strapped across the front. His dark-blond hair was cut short, cropped against his scalp. “Maybe this marriage will surprise you,” he said, his mouth curving once more. “Maybe you’ll grow to enjoy her company.”

“Shut it, would you,” Cailean snarled.

Heedless of his warning, the warrior merely grinned. Out of all those in his guard, Torran was the only enforcer who didn’t fear him. They’d entered the High King’s guard together—new enforcers who’d worked their way up the ranks shoulder-to-shoulder.

These days, Cailean was chief-enforcer and Torran was his second.

But Torran still didn’t mind him—even when he should.

“Miserable goat,” Torran goaded, swirling the ale in his tankard. “I hope they teach the Maids of Albia patience … the lass will need it.”

Cailean drained the last of his ale and slammed his tankard down on the table. The move was so violent that Skaal, who’d been dozing by the hearth, lurched up with a grunt, her golden eyes fixing upon him.

Meanwhile, Torran hadn’t flinched. He was still watching Cailean, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“That’s it.” Cailean pushed himself up from the table. “You and me in the training yard … now.”

Torran arched a tawny eyebrow. “This late?”

“Aye … it’s time I gave you a beating.”

His second rose to his feet. “Go on then … but if you fight like you dice, it’ll bemehanding youyourarse.”

A while later, Cailean climbed the steps to his quarters. He was still sweating after sparring with Torran, and his ribs were bruised from the punches he’d received.

However, he’d bested his second in the end. Torran had limped off, spitting out a gob of blood, and Cailean had watched him go with grim satisfaction. The fight had helped, had taken the edge off the fury that simmered in his gut.

Only, it didn’t change anything.

This time tomorrow, he’d be wedded.

Cailean’s pulse thudded in his ears. Curse the High King, he didn’t want to go through with this. But Talorc had made things clear. Take a wife or step down from his position.

Frustration surged up once more, making him clench his hands at his sides. By the Reaper’s scythe, he didn’t have time for this. The past year had been a blur of patrols and Shee-hunting expeditions. The High King’s hatred for the faery race beyond the veil knew no bounds.

Cailean’s mouth thinned. Before entering the High King’s service and working his way up through the ranks to his current position, he’d never given the Shee much thought. Aye, they were as dangerous as they were beautiful. However, he’d always believed that if you left them well alone, they wouldn’t do you any harm either.

There were plenty of tales though, of people who’d strayed too close to barrows at sunrise or sunset and been killed or stolen away; and other stories of babies ripped from their cradles and replaced by a sly changeling.

Cailean had hunted them, fought them, for years now—and carried scars on his body from every encounter—but unlike the High King, he couldn’t bring himself to loathe the Shee. The campaign Talorc waged against them was wearying.

Skaal padded silently behind Cailean, claws clicking on stone. The hound’s name meant ‘Shadow’ in the Albian tongue; indeed, the dog behaved like one. Silent, watchful, and always at Cailean’s side.

Cailean cast the dog a glance. “What did you think of her?”

Skaal’s golden eyes gleamed in the guttering light of the cressets burning on the walls. It was said that the Shee could communicate with fae hounds by thought, yet as a Marav, he’d never managed it. Even so, he sometimes swore Skaal understood him when he spoke to her.

He’d expected the blood to drain from Fia’s face at the sight of the fae hound. Few people liked being close to Skaal—but his bride-to-be hadn’t quailed.

“The woman is too bold,” Cailean ground out. “She’ll have to learn her place.”

Reaching his quarters, which sat a few yards away from his meeting alcove, he shoved aside the heavy curtain and strode in. Skaal padded in after him and headed straight to the sheepskin rug in front of the large hearth. The hound was so big that she took up the entire space.

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