Page 30 of Ashes of Betrayal

No, he wasn’t getting rid of her that easily.

Come on, Tiv. She leaned forward and placed her hand on the stag’s slick neck.Follow him.

The last of the light had faded and darkness crowded in by the time Cailean drew his mount up. Unfortunately, the Gales of Complaint still howled, and the rain continued to lash down as if the end of the world were upon them.

Bree was right behind him.

Swinging down from Feannag, Cailean’s brows crashed together. “I didn’t invite you along.”

“No.” Bree slid lightly onto the muddy road before jogging on the spot and rubbing her hands together to try and warm them up. “But I assumed it must be an oversight on your part. Evenyoucouldn’t be so rude.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw, although a moment later, a mutinous expression settled over his face. Oh aye, he could be.

Spine stiffening, Bree wrapped her arms about herself and faced him. “Let me spell this out. I saved your hide back there, mac Brochan. The least you can do in return is let me share your hearth tonight. I swear, that wind cuts to the marrow.”

His lips parted as if he was about to argue with her. However, a moment later, he shut his mouth firmly, swallowing whatever unpleasant response he’d been about to utter. He looked as miserable as she felt: dripping with mud and rain, his face pale with cold. “Very well,” he finally answered, biting each word out. “One night … and then we go our separate ways in the morning.”

Bree’s jaw clenched, even as she nodded. The man was proving to be frustratingly obstinate. But at least she had until dawn to get him to soften toward her—and she’d do her best, once she got out of this driving rain and warmed herself by a fire.

Is this wise?Tiv’s mind touched hers then.Pushing yourself in where you’re not wanted rarely ends well.

Bree stiffened. Her stag didn’t usually question her, and his behavior caught her off guard.I know what I’m doing.

Cailean turned then and led his stallion away from the highway and into the oakwood.

Wordlessly, Bree and Tivesheh followed.

In the woods, the trees had lost all their leaves. Nonetheless, the heavy boughs would provide some shelter overnight. It wasn’t much, but off the road, the sharp edges of the Gales of Complaint were blunted.

“I’m going to hunt for dry wood for a fire,” Cailean announced brusquely. “Make yourself useful while I’m gone and see to my horse.”

Bree snorted. “Good luck with that … these woods will turn into a loch soon if it doesn’t stop raining.”

Not bothering to answer her, he strode off, leaving Bree glaring after him.

She knew what he was doing. He thought if he made her angry, she’d leave. A thin smile tugged at her lips then, stubbornness knotting under her breastbone. “You’ll have to do better than that, mac Brochan,” she muttered between chattering teeth, “if you want rid of me.” Even so, she foundherself silently simmering as she crossed to Feannag. The man’s ingratitude was galling.

Working quickly, even if her numb fingers kept fumbling, she unsaddled the stallion and rubbed him down. Digging around in the saddle bags, she found some oats and a nosebag and fed him.

Like that, do you, lad?She gently touched minds with the stallion as he munched.

Aye, came his gruff response. Horse and rider were similarly taciturn it appeared.Better than sour grass.

She was rolling out a square of leather on the ground under the broadest of the oaks when Cailean returned with firewood. He ignored her as he laid the hearth, and Bree held her tongue. It was wise to let the tension ease slightly before attempting to converse with him again.

A short time later, a small fire smoked before them. Thank the Ancestors, the rain had lessened a little now, and the bough above them kept them dry enough. Sighing, Bree warmed her tingling hands over the tender flames. She’d never been so happy to sit by a fire. Her wet clothing was clammy and chafed her skin, but there was nothing she could do about that. At least, warmth now seeped into her chilled body.

Wringing water out of her long braid, her gaze flicked then, to where Cailean had sat down, cross-legged, and was feeding twigs into the fire. His face still gleamed with rain in the firelight.

Eventually, he glanced up, meeting her eye. His features were strained now, his gaze guarded. “I’d have fallen back there if you hadn’t appeared when you did,” he admitted tersely, raking a hand through his wet hair—a move that left it spiky and in disarray. “Thank you.”

The admission was a reluctant one, each word dragged up, but the tension in Bree’s chest loosened, nonetheless. She inclined her head and favored him with a half-smile. “Just as well that I was following you then.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

“I wouldn’t … if you’d let me ride with you.”

Their gazes fused, her challenge hanging in the air between them.

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