Page 35 of Ashes of Betrayal

Cailean’s lips flattened. If she expected sympathy, she’d be disappointed.

Feeding more wood to the fire, he then considered what she’d revealed. “Your people will strike before the snows come,” he said finally. “Before it gets too cold.”

“Aye. Golval and Deeping are the closest barrows to Duncrag … I imagine Mor will send her warriors through there.”

Cailean met her gaze again, noting her guarded expression. It likely mirrored his own. She was on edge, awaiting further accusations from him. Aye, Bree had seemed sincere when she told him that she hadn’t known that the ambush in the Hallow Woods would come early, but Cailean’s suspicion that she was holding things back lingered. The Shee were as cunning as they were beautiful. Many Marav tales told of how they could be kind one moment and cruel the next. And the female seated across from him was an assassin.

Something occurred to him then, and he leaned forward, searching her features. Firelight played across her gilded skin and made her tawny eyes glow like Skaal’s. “How old are you, Bree?”

Her lips lifted at the corners as if she’d been expecting him to ask this eventually. “Three hundred and two.”

Cailean straightened up, something clenching deep in his chest. He shouldn’t have been surprised—for he knew that Shee could live for thousands of years—but the knowledge that she’d been born around the time of his great, great grandsire made uneasiness stir inside him.

No wonder, even as a Marav woman, her eyes had been so knowing.

The moment drew out before Cailean broke their stare. He then cleared his throat. “It’s been a long day … we’d better get some rest.” Indeed, he was bone-weary. Traveling through howling wind and rain and then fighting for his life had drained him—as had this conversation. And even the glow of the fire couldn’t warm the chill that had settled into his bones.

“Aye,” she replied softly. “Cailean … can I accompany you to Morae?”

He glanced up to find Bree watching him, her lovely face solemn, her eyes pleading.

His chest clenched. Gods, he wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. “Why?” he asked roughly.

“I know you still don’t trust me,” she went on, her throat bobbing, “but I’d like to help you find this Eilig. When you do … you might need someone to watch your back.”

His first impulse was to tell her he didn’t need her help. Yet, the sudden vulnerability in her eyes checked him. That, and he didn’t have the energy to argue with her any longer.

“We’ll see,” he grunted, wrapping his still-damp, heavy fur cloak about him and rolling onto his side, next to where Skaal had stretched out her long body. “Ask me again in the morning.”

Bree slept badly. Cailean had built up the fire, yet the cold still gnawed at her. Halfway through the night, the rain started again. Curled up under her sodden woolen cloak, she listened to it patter around her. In the meantime, her mind turned over the things Cailean had told her, examining them from every angle.

The riddle that was her husband had been solved. Now she understood why he was such a hard bastard, why he’d been determined to cut himself off from others.

She’d cracked his shell—because of her, he’d set off on a quest for vengeance.

She had to stay with him. They were meant for each other. And with time, he’d realize it too.

Eventually, dawn broke, grey and misty, and Bree rolled to her feet. Her damp clothing itched her skin, and the morning’s chill dragged at her lungs. Ignoring her discomfort, she turned to face her husband.

Cailean was kicking earth over the smoking ruins of last night’s fire. The rain had done its best to put it out, yet he was making sure. Unlike her, he looked as if he’d actually slept; his face was fresher and less strained, his eyes brighter.

“Well?” she asked huskily. “What is your answer?”

Cailean glanced up, his gaze glinting. “That’s an abrupt way to start the day,” he replied. “How about a ‘good morning’ first?”

Bree swallowed. “Good morning.”

She tracked him as he shifted back from the fire and moved over to his stallion. Feannag nudged him with his nose. Stroking the horse’s noble face, he slipped on its bridle. “Very well,” Cailean spoke the words so quietly that Bree almost missed them. “Although you aren’t to interfere in my business … is that clear?”

“It’s clear.” Bree’s heart kicked against her ribs. “So, that’s an ‘aye’?”

He shot her a warning look before nodding.

“You won’t regret this.”

He pulled a face and stooped to retrieve Feannag’s saddle. “I already do.” Swinging the saddle onto the stallion’s back, he then set about tightening the girth. “Morae crannog is half a day’s ride from here.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at where Tivesheh stood, his white coat gleaming even in the morning’s dull light. “However, the road will get much busier from this point on … you can’t ride in on your stag.”

“I’ll travel with you then?”

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