Page 53 of Bound By Deception

I have something to send to Mor now though, she reassured herself. It wasn’t much, but it would hopefully take the edge off the Raven Queen’s impatience. And if she made sure she was up at first light and watching from the walls as the men departed, she’d discover their numbers too.

Bree glanced over at the hearth then, where Skaal was gnawing at a bone. “Will your hound be going with you?”

“Of course … she follows me everywhere.”

Bree met her husband’s eye once more. “Won’t you tell me how Skaal came to be your companion?”

Mac Brochan’s mouth pursed, and he leaned back in his chair, studying her under dark brows.

Bree suffered his inspection, even as her breathing grew shallow. Curse the man, he was locked tighter than a tomb. “Forgive me, husband,” she muttered, reaching for her cup of wine and taking a sip. “Yet again, I forget my place.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Why is it that even your apologies are like a fist to the face?”

Wincing, Bree took another sip of wine. It looked as if they were about to pass another silent evening.

“Five winters ago, I was part of a war band in the far north of the Uplands,” mac Brochan said then, surprising her. “The world was frozen, the Sharp Billed Wind cutting straight to the marrow. Mid-winter Fire approached, and the High King had sent us to Darkmere, to attack the Shee when they emerged from their barrow at Mid-winter Fire.”

Bree fought a scowl. Aye, she remembered that attack and Mor’s fury afterward. Mid-winter Fire—the Winter solstice—was a sacred time for both the Shee and the Marav. Despite the cold in the mortal realm, the Shee ventured forth from their barrows, walking between the two worlds, and bringing back offerings from Albia. They collected hawthorn and drualus, as well as blood-red holly berries and the fallen acorns from mighty oaks.

“We thought we’d catch them unawares, especially that far north,” the chief-enforcer went on. “We knew fae hounds stalked those mountains, and so we stoppered our ears with soft wax, to protect ourselves from their howls, before we fought them. But their numbers were far greater than we’d anticipated, and they eventually shattered our ranks. Many of our war band fell.”

He halted there before he absently raised a hand, his fingertips skimming the left side of his ribcage as if recalling the incident. “I too was injured. A blizzard came upon us, and I was separated from the other enforcers. Weak from the loss of blood, I crawled into a cave … ignorant of the fact that it was a fae hound’s den.”

Bree’s gaze widened. “That was unlucky.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smile. “The Warrior was looking down on me that day … for the cave was empty when I arrived.” He glanced over at Skaal. The hound had stopped chewing at her bone and now sat up, ears pricked, as if listening to the tale.

“In truth, I was too weak, too cold, to pay much attention to my surroundings … I only cared that I’d escaped the blizzard and the Shee,” he continued. “I fell asleep, and when I awoke, I found a tiny fae hound pup nestled against me. It was then that I realized where I’d stumbled into.” His expression softened slightly as he continued to look at Skaal. “She was alone … I don’t know what happened to the rest of her litter.”

“Fae hounds don’t whelp large litters like wolves or dogs do,” Bree answered. “One or two pups per litter is all you get … which is why they’re so rare.” Her husband’s attention snapped back to Bree at this, and heat rushed over her. What was she doing? “Or so I’ve heard,” she added quickly. “Mother Gelda explained such things to us.”

The chief-enforcer watched her intently for a moment before nodding. “Aye, well, this pup was alone. The blizzard stretched out, and I lay there in the fae hound’s den, too weak to move. I braced myself for the mother to return … but she never did.” Something shadowed his eyes then—surely not remorse? “We must have slain her during the battle.”

Bree’s fingers tightened around her cup of wine.Of course, you did.

“I’m surprised you survived to tell the tale.” Bree dropped her gaze to her trencher. She didn’t want him to see her reaction.

“As was I,” he replied. “However, I slaked my thirst on melted snow and ate the dry oatcakes and cheese I carried with me. I shared the cheese in little pieces with the pup.”

“I’d have expected you to wring its neck.” Bree dug her eating knife into the leathery venison once more. The thoughtof this man sharing his rations with a fae hound pup was incongruous, to say the least.

He harrumphed, and Bree glanced up to see he was looking at Skaal once more. “I couldn’t bring myself to,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “And when I was strong enough to walk, I left the cave and brought Skaal with me.” His mouth curved into a real smile then. “You’ve been with me ever since, haven’t you, lass?”

Skaal pushed herself up, her heavy fringed tail thumping on the floor.

Something tugged deep within Bree’s chest as she observed the bond between them—a complicated emotion, somewhere between jealousy, longing … andrespect.

Watch it, she warned herself.Don’t you dare think there’s any decency in him. “I don’t believe it,” she said, unable to stop herself from teasing him. “My ruthless enforcer husband has a heart, after all.”

Mac Brochan’s gaze cut to her, the softness she’d witnessed upon his face as he looked at his hound disappearing.

Immediately, Bree regretted her sarcasm. Iron choke her, she’d get nothing out of him now.

Her husband’s lips parted, as if he was going to answer her, before they compressed tight, swallowing his response. Picking up his cup of wine, he drained it in a long, deep draft. He then slammed the cup down on the table between them, making it clear that their conversation, and the fleeting intimacy that it had brought, was over.

23: SHIELDS

MIST WREATHED THE yard before the broch, drifting like smoke over the spiky wooden ramparts surrounding it and curling around the peaked roof of the broch itself.

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