Highland Wolf Pact Page 8

  “Somethin’s firmin’ in ’er,” Beitris observed, glancing between Laina’s legs. “I think the blood is ebbin’.”

  “Yes.” Sibyl blew on the surface of the cup, smelling the goldenrod and shepherd’s purse. It was enough to make her want to gag. “Kirstin, help sit her up a little.”

  Darrow did it instead, taking the baby off its mother’s breast to do so. Kirstin took the baby, who wailed at being taken away from his mother, but Sibyl had to get the concoction down the woman’s throat. Laina moaned but swallowed, her eyes half-opening, focused for a moment on Sibyl, then on her husband. There was a recognition in those eyes that gave Sibyl hope. Laina knew where she was, who she was, who this man was to her. She was still here on this side of the veil then.

  “Thank ye.” Darrow choked out the words as they put Laina back down on the mattress. It was ruined, soaked in blood, and Sibyl wondered how someone could lose so much and still be breathing. It was a miracle. “Tis the second time ye’ve saved ’er life.”

  “I’m glad I could help.” Sibyl looked up at Kirstin who was holding the crying child in her arms. “Keep that baby nursing as much as possible.”

  “He seems to have a great appetite,” Raife observed as Kirstin knelt to put him back at Laina’s breast. “He’s yer son, wit’out a doubt, brother.”

  Raife’s hand fell to Darrow’s shoulder and Sibyl saw tears brimming in the younger brother’s eyes as his own hand covered Raife’s larger one.

  “And keep her drinking this,” Sibyl instructed, pointing to the pot of boiling herbs. “All night long.”

  “I’ll stay awake wit’er,” Darrow assured her as Sibyl stood. “Thank ye again.”

  “I’m right next door if you need me.” Sibyl didn’t want to go, but the immediate danger had passed, and Raife insisted. He barked orders, telling the old midwife and Kirstin to clean Laina up, Darrow to get men to dispose of the old mattress and retrieve a new one.

  Then Raife walked her to the room next door where he turned her to him, his big hands on her shoulders. He made her feel so small in stature in his presence, but she never felt small within. That was likely what made him a leader, she realized—man, wolf or wulver.

  “I’ve never seen anythin’ like that afore,” Raife said softly, glancing down the hall where men carried out the bloody mattress. “I’m so glad ye were here. We would’na’ve known what t’do.”

  Sibyl just nodded. She didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Tis why wulvers change when they birth.” Raife’s eyes hardened. “Females can’na change back while puppin’. Wulvers do’na experience the same dangers as humans durin’ birth. Tis a blessin’ and a curse.”

  “I don’t understand.” Sibyl frowned, opening the door to her room as two men moved in behind them, carrying a clean mattress for Laina, making more room for them in the tunnel hallway.

  “Lilith’s curse.” Raife stood in the doorway, filling it with his big frame, not coming in, although she moved into the room to sit on the edge of the bed. She thought she had been exhausted before. Now she was dead-tired. “The first wulver was the daughter of Lilith.”

  “Adam’s first wife?” She cocked her head at him. “From the Bible?”

  “The same,” he agreed. “Humans descended from Eve. Wulvers descended from Lilith.”

  Sibyl considered this new information, trying to absorb it.

  “Lilith was a’cursed by God t’give birth t’demons,” Raife explained softly, reminding Sibyl of the old Biblical story. She was far more familiar with the story of Adam and Eve, of course—that was the story of her own ancestors, of an evil, wanton woman who tempted her mate into wickedness—but occasionally Lilith was mentioned in church as God’s first, failed attempt at creating woman. It seemed her gender was difficult to get just right.

  “We’re those demon descendants,” Raife told her. “Half-human, half-wolf. We live in the borderland between worlds. Sibyl? Are ye a’right?”

  She felt faint again at his words, although she told herself she was not, under any circumstances, going to faint. Not again. But her eyes closed and the world spun anyway.

  “Sibyl?” Raife was close to her now, squatting next to the bed, holding her up.

  “It’s been a long day.” She opened her eyes and half-smiled at him. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Wulvers… half-human, half-wolf. The… descendants of Lilith, you say?”

  “Aye.” He brushed hair away from her face, smiling softly. “Ye should sleep, lass. Ye worked hard dis day.”

  “So did you.” She cocked her head at him. “And Laina. Poor thing. She worked hardest of all.”

  “Wulver females ain’t like human women.” Raife spoke the obvious, but his face was pale, his eyes betraying him, showing fear he clearly had never experienced in the same way before. “They’re cursed, but different.”

  “Eve and her descendants were cursed with the pain of childbirth.” Sibyl sighed, lamenting her own women’s curse, remembering the women she’d seen die birthing their young. “Always afraid of pain and death.”

  “Aye.” Raife’s eyes clouded. “But Lilith was a’cursed as the bearer of demon seed. “

  “Demons… are you demons then?” she murmured, frowning at the thought. She’d seen drawn depictions of demons with horns and red skin. These wulvers, whatever they were, did not appear evil, or even unnatural. Although, in their human form, the way Raife appeared in front of her now, they seemed extra-human, as if they’d been taken directly from the pages of some ancient text.

  “We are what we are.” Raife sighed. “Some of us accept that better’n others.”

  “Darrow…?” She met his eyes, questioning. There was something in Raife’s tone that made her think of his brother and Raife nodded sadly.

  “Darrow and Laina, too.” He glanced toward the door, as if his brother might be standing there, listening to what he had to say. “They believe they can change the way we are. But we’ve always been this way and always will be.”

  “Change…?” Sibyl frowned. “How?”

  “Tis a silly legend.” Raife waved the idea away. “Chasin’ rainbows. There’s supposed to be a plant that can keep wulvers from changin’ into wolves. The huluppa tree.”

  “The… that’s… a type of willow, isn’t it?” Sibyl remembered it from her teachings with the healer and her father. They had taught her to read and identify all the names of the plants.

  “They’ve gone out, searchin’ the woods fer it,” Raife said, his eyes hardening at the thought. “That’s where they were when she was caught. I told ’im she should’na be out, so close t’pup.”

  “It is supposed to keep you from changing?” Sibyl tried to remember everything she knew about the huluppa. It was just another variation of willow, although it wasn’t anywhere near as abundant as some of the others. “Willow… willow is a pain reliever. But it keeps the blood from clotting!”

  Sibyl sat straight up, eyes wide.

  “Was she eating the willow?” Sibyl gasped. “That explains why she was bleeding so much!”

  “And it did’na even work.” Raife scoffed, shaking his dark head. “She still changed.”

  “I wonder…” Sibyl considered the possibilities. Could a plant really stop a wulver’s transformation, like barley stopped burns or buckbean killed intestinal worms?

  “I know Laina thinks tis unfair. And she’s reason to fear the change. Males can change at will,” Raife explained. “Females… they have no choice. They change when they pup. They change when they go into heat.”

  “Heat?” Sibyl cocked her head, trying to work out what he was saying, and then she understood, feeling her own cheeks filling with heat.

  “Moon blood…?” he explained, smiling at the way her cheeks pinked up.

  “Menses.” Sibyl blushed even brighter, saying the word in a man’s presence. Even she knew you didn’t talk about such things in front of menfolk. But she couldn’t help thinking about Laina—poor Laina. She was tied mo
re to her body and its cycles than Sibyl had ever thought about being. And here she’d believed she was limited by her gender!

  “I will look for this willow before I am on my way,” Sibyl decided with sudden determination. She would help Laina and her kind, if she could. It would be good to liberate the wulver woman from her gender’s prison, even if she couldn’t change her own.

  “Ye’ll go t’sleep and we’ll talk more on th’morrow.” Raife was giving orders again. He stood, an imposing figure in his plaid, thick arms crossed over his broad chest.

  “I will find it.” Sibyl’s chin stuck out in defiance, more determined than ever.

  “I b’lieve ye.” He chuckled, turning to go. “Thank ye for what ye did fer her. She’s as much like a sister to me as Darrow’s brother.”

  “And Kirstin?” Sibyl’s cheeks reddened when Raife hesitated at the doorway to turn and look at her. She didn’t know why she’d asked, but the words had escaped her mouth before she could stop them.

  “Kirstin?” Raife smiled, looking amused. “What about ’er, lass?”

  “I just… noticed the way she looked at you.” Sibyl squirmed on the bed, feeling his gaze pinned on her. She couldn’t help but notice the way Kirstin looked at him, like he was some sort of a god, or God himself. Not that she blamed the girl, not in the least.

  “And what way’s that?”

  “The way a woman… looks at a man… who…” she stammered.

  Oh damn him, she thought, unable to get the rest of the words out.

  “I’ve no mate, Sibyl,” he told her, his words soft but clear, those blue, blue eyes trained right on her, seeing into her, into parts and places she had yet to even explore herself. “There’s no woman or wulver who’s been marked by me.”

  Marked. She wanted to know what that meant, but she was afraid to ask.

  “G’nite, lass.” He moved to close the door but Sibyl stopped him once again with her words.

  “Where are you going?” she called.

  “I’ll be right outside,” he assured her, smiling around the door’s edge.

  “In that drafty tunnel hallway?” She frowned, glancing around the big room, noting a thick lamb’s wool rug by the fire. It would do nicely. Besides, even if she was a little afraid of him, she was more afraid of what was out there, beyond the closed door. She thought she might actually feel safer with him here, in the room. “No. Sleep here. I insist.”

  “Here?” His eyebrows went up when he looked at her and Sibyl swallowed at the heat in his gaze. “Wit’ ye?”

  “Oh, I mean…” She blinked, biting her lip. “You can sleep by the fire. Or have another mattress brought in…”

  “Yer reputation will’na survive ’til mornin’, lass,” Raife said softly. The look in his eyes warmed her from head to toe and she tried to ignore her body’s response.

  “My reputation?” Sibyl gave a short, strangled laugh. The memory of Alistair and her uncle and their concern for her reputation seemed very far away in this strange place. “I don’t care about my reputation any longer.”

  “Ye’ll,” he assured her with a short nod. “If ye want to return to yer world.”

  If. Not when, if. As if it was a question. And was it? She wondered. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it a few hours ago, would have jumped on the first horse she could find and rode hell-bent on getting away from this place, away from Scotland, away. Away.

  But she had been so focused on running away, she hadn’t considered where she might be running to.

  “I’ll be right outside,” he told her again, once more pulling at the door.

  And Sibyl interrupted him yet again.

  “This is silly!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in helpless desperation. “This room is big, there’s a fire. You can’t sleep in the hallway. You’ll catch your death!”

  “No.” His gaze didn’t move from her face, his eyes saying so much, his mouth so little. “I can’na sleep in ’ere.”

  “Why not?” she protested.

  “Because…” He hesitated just a moment before finishing his sentence. “I can’na trust myself around ye.”

  “Trust yourself…” She laughed again, she couldn’t help it. “To do what? Not eat me?”

  He smiled back at her, but there was no humor in it. In fact, the look in his eyes told her he was far from joking. Everything about him bespoke of the seriousness of his words, even though they might have been spoken in jest.

  “That’s na’what I’m hungry fer when I look at ye, lass.”

  Sibyl couldn’t answer that. There weren’t words. She felt the heat of his gaze on her body as if he had touched her with his admission, as if he’d undressed her in an instant and had his way with her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think.

  He seemed to understand her sudden silence. That understanding was in his gaze as he dropped it to the floor and murmured, “G’nite,” for one final time before he pulled the door closed.

  Chapter Six

  It felt as if no time had passed at all when Kirstin knocked and entered her room in the morning. Maybe it was because it was still dark—there were no windows here, no sunlight streamed in to tickle her nose. Sibyl was still bone-tired but she got up, knowing she had a long way to walk today. And the next. And the day after that. She had no idea how long it was going to take to get back to Rose’s village, but however long it took her, she was going to have to stay off the roads, avoid Alistair’s men, and somehow stay dry, warm and fed.

  Had Raife meant it when he said he would escort her wherever she wanted to go? There were no horses here, but if she could travel on a wolf, or even with one, she would feel far safer. The thought of traveling with him made her feel warm, even in spite of the room’s early morning chill.

  “G’mornin!” Kirstin called out, smiling as she put a tray onto the table.

  “Good morning.” Sibyl stretched and yawned and ventured out, stomach clenching in hunger the moment she smelled the food.

  There was a bowl full of something like porridge, a few slices of bread, some soft cheese, and a tin cup of milk. She sat at the table, spooning in delicious mouthfuls of porridge—there was dried fruit, seeds and nuts in it—as Kirstin stoked the fire. It had died down to embers overnight.

  “Ye can wear these while yer here.” Kirstin held up the plaid and leather belt Sibyl had taken off the night before, the same one she’d worn to tend Laina. “We’re doin’ our best t’wash and mend yer dress.”

  “Thank you.” Sibyl made a face just thinking about that green velvet dress. “How is Laina this morning?”

  “Better, thanks t’ye.” Kirstin smiled her gratitude.

  Sibyl let the girl dress her. She would have insisted on doing it herself, but she wasn’t familiar with how it all worked. The plaid had loops the belt went through, and then the belt cinched at her waist, over the shirt she’d worn to bed. It was all very convenient, she thought, as Kirstin arranged the plaid fabric over her shoulder, tucking it back into the belt.

  “I feel naked,” Sibyl murmured, glancing down at her bare legs and feet. She touched her long, uncovered hair. She wasn’t used to going around without some sort of head covering. It was common in Scotland, she’d noticed, but English ladies didn’t go out without a hat. Kirstin had taken her corset along with her dress, and Sibyl discovered she could take a full breath for the first time in months. She hadn’t felt this free in a long time.

  “Ye look lovely.” Kirstin combed Sibyl’s hair as she finished eating her porridge and drank her milk. It was goat’s milk, rich and delicious. “Are ye sure ye don’na have Scots blood in ye? Yer hair’s as red as a rooster’s crown!”

  “Mayhaps, somewhere back in my family tree.” Sibyl smiled. “Although my mother would faint if she heard me say it.”

  She didn’t like thinking about her mother. Or her home. She didn’t have a home anymore, not really. Whatever connection she might have maintained between herself and the place she’d g
rown up had disappeared the moment she’d decided to run away. Whatever her life had been before, it would never be again.

  “My dress will be ready soon?” Sibyl looked at her hopefully. Even if she didn’t wear it, she realized she could sell it for the cloth alone and pay for food for her trip, if she could find a buyer. She tried to remember the places they had passed on their journey over the border, if there had been anywhere promising she might sell a velvet gown.

  “I had ’em take it out into the sun t’dry.” Kirstin put more wood on the fire. The room had grown cool overnight and she wondered if they had to keep a fire going all day, even in the summer. The mountain retained the cold and Sibyl wasn’t used to being bare-legged. She was actually shivering.

  “Sun?” Sibyl cocked her head as she tied her soft-soled shoes, wishing she had a pair of riding boots instead. “Outside?”

  “A’course outside.” Kirstin laughed, taking Sibyl’s tray and heading toward the door. “Raife was askin’ after ye. Would ye like me t’take ye t’im?”

  Sibyl nodded, standing and following Kirstin out of the room. It was time to go, she decided, with or without an escort. She didn’t know if Raife had been serious about taking her wherever she wanted, but she wouldn’t turn down his offer, if he made it again.

  They made their way through the tunnels and Sibyl kept as close to Kirstin as she could. They passed people, men and women all dressed in plaid, and a few wolves too, which made her shrink instinctively toward the cool tunnel walls.

  “They will’na hurt ye,” Kirstin assured her as they traveled deeper into the mountain. “Raife has guaranteed yer safety.”

  “I’m not so sure Darrow is going to listen to him,” Sibyl muttered, remembering how Raife’s brother had glared at her and argued with him, even if she had helped his wife the night before. Darrow didn’t like her presence, didn’t want her there.

  “Raife leads our pack,” Kirstin informed her. “Even if Darrow does’na like it, he’ll follow. He must.”