Page 105 of Bride of Mist
The back of the wolf’s fist caught the side of her head. The world splintered, and she staggered to the ground.
“Wait,” Gaufrid said. “Ye’re not the usual maid. Who are ye?”
The boar bent down to look at her.
“Where’s the wee red-haired lass?” the wolf snarled.
Stunned, Feiyan fought to regain her wits. Using the chest, she clawed her way back onto her feet. Unfortunately, her hand caught the edge of the tray, upsetting it and spilling clapbread onto the floor.
“Answer me,” the wolf grunted.
She was fuzzy-headed, but this time she was prepared when he wolf lifted his arm to backhand her again.
She shoved his elbow away with one palm and punched him under the ribs with her other knuckles. He collapsed forward with an “oof” just as the door opened, admitting a timid young lass with a heart-shaped freckled face and orange hair.
“M’laird,” she murmured.
Oblivious to the commotion, she bobbed to the laird with downcast eyes and hurried forward to offer her tray of clapbread and ale.
“There she is,” the boar announced. “There’s the redheaded wench.”
“Then who isshe?”Gaufrid jerked his head toward Feiyan.
Feiyan never got the chance to lie. The maid’s pale blue eyes went round when she saw Feiyan. She gasped and dropped her tray. Her jug shattered on the floor, splattering ale over the tumbling loaves of clapbread.
“That plaid!” the lass cried in alarm. “I know that plaid. ’Tis Dougal’s.”
“Why should we trust you?” Gellir asked Dougal, narrowing flinty eyes.
“Aye,” Adam chimed in. “Why should we believe anything you say?”
Dougal sighed. They were right to doubt him. He’d viciously attacked their clan. And they had good cause to believe he’d done some harm to Feiyan.
But that was the furthest thing from the truth. In fact, if he survived the coming battle, if he eluded death and delivered justice, if he proved himself worthy, he had quite different plans for the wee lass with the beautiful gray eyes and the invincible spirit.
He didn’t realize it until this instant. But now his destiny couldn’t be clearer.
“Because I mean to marry her.”
For a moment, they only stared at him, speechless.
“What?” Adam blinked.
“You’re not serious?” Gellir asked in disbelief.
Dougal straightened. “I am.”
“Really?” Gellir snorted. “Doessheknow?”
“She won’t have you,” Adam stated.
“’Twas actually her idea.” Dougal was fairly certain that was true.
“Feiyan’sidea?” Gellir asked. He gave Dougal a cursory glance from head to toe, probably the same inspection he’d given Urramach before purchasing the horse.
Adam made an almost comical grimace of disgust. “’Tis absurd,” he spat. “My sister would ne’er marry the likes of you.”
Gellir made no comment. He apparently hadn’t found Dougal as lacking in marriageable qualities as Adam did.
