Page 91 of Bound By Deception

Moments later, they passed through the wards the druids had placed, and the mild air turned cold and clammy.

Cailean’s body tensed against her back.

“The Slew are attracted to fear,” Bree said, careful to keep her voice low. “Show none and you will pass through untouched.”

He didn’t answer, although Flint gave a frightened whinny then and side-stepped. Focusing on the pony, rather than the silently fuming man seated behind her, Bree leaned forward and started whispering the charm that had calmed the garron earlier.

And like then, Flint’s trembling body relaxed.

The Slew crept out from the listing, ivy-draped stones once more, their long arms reaching, their spidery fingers grasping and plucking.

Cailean’s body didn’t relax against hers the entire way down the path, even if the Unforgiven let him be. Nonetheless, the murmurs were harsher than when Bree had traveled through the woods on her own. The Slew were hungry for fear and frustrated not to get what they craved.

Finally, when Flint emerged from under the canopy of trees, and The Whistle shrieked in Bree’s ears once more, Cailean let out a slow, relieved breath.

“Where are we going?” Bree asked then, unable to hold her tongue any longer.

“To the Ring of Caith,” he replied roughly as he urged Flint into a choppy canter.

Bree’s pulse jolted, and she stiffened against him. “Why?”

Cailean leaned into her, his breath feathering across her ear as he replied, “No more questions.”

39: DON’T MAKE ME

THE MOON HAD set when the stone circle appeared upon the horizon, silhouetted against the deep indigo sky.

Dawn hadn’t yet broken, although it wasn’t far off.

Bree and Cailean hadn’t spoken on the way south. During the ride, she sat in the cage of his arms as he guided the pony. The strength and heat of his body, which nudged against hers with each of Flint’s choppy strides, disturbed her.

It was a reminder of how it had felt to lie with him in the furs after they’d coupled.

She’d known then that it was a stolen moment, never to be repeated. And it was, for he hated her now.

She could hardly blame him. Bree was the one who’d woven the lies, while he’d been ignorant of the truth. In his place, she would have acted far more harshly, killing him where he stood.

Even so, his insistence that they rode to The Ring of Caith mystified, and worried, her.

What was he up to?

Cailean drew up the pony at the bottom of the hill, and Bree slid from Flint’s back and turned to face her husband, who also dismounted. “And now?”

He stared down at her, his face harsh in the shadows. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Bree’s spine stiffened at his belligerent tone. “No … enlighten me.”

A nerve flickered in his cheek. “At daybreak, I’m sending you back through the stones.”

Bree stopped breathing. For a few moments, she stared at him, unable to take in his response. It made no sense to her at all. “But why?” she whispered finally.

His mouth compressed into a hard line, his big body growing rigid. “The reason doesn’t matter.”

“But I thought you were taking me away to interrogate me … to kill me.”

Something dark moved in the depths of his eyes. “You were mistaken.”

She stepped closer, her chin lifting as she continued to stare him down. “Talk to me, Cailean.”

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