I wiped the blood from my mouth. “W-what happened? What is he?”
“Ask him yourself.”
“I can’t.” I looked to the Sea Wolf, who sobered. “You can’t talk, can you?”
“He used to,” Hawk cleared his throat. “Shall I tell her?” He asked his leader and at the Sea Wolf’s nod, explained, “A witch cast a spell on him long ago. The spell was meant to give him great power.”
“The strength and speed of a wolf,” I whispered.
“You sure about this?” Hawk asked and his leader growled. “The spell worked. But then it turned into a curse. No man can kill him but if he puts a foot on land, he becomes a mindless beast.”
“Not till the raven leads you home.” I repeated the lines from the story, my heart twisting. There was such sadness in the Sea Wolf’s eyes.
“She’s a canny one, I’ll give you,” Hawk grunted to his leader. “But I still don’t like it.”
“Wait—” I called to Hawk. But the warrior with the feather in his ear turned on his heel and disappeared down the dark stairs. Leaving me to face the man I’d tried to kill.
I winced when I heard his booted steps coming my way, even though I expected them.
My warrior captor raised me up and I trembled. He used the rope around my neck, winding it about his palm until I stood nose to nose with him. Would he turn the collar into a noose and strangle me? I was easy to kill.
Unlike him.
The rope was slick with his own blood. So was the knife he held—my knife he’d retrieved from the floor. It was narrow enough to slide between the rope and my neck.
“Make it quick,” I said, and closed my eyes. The blade rested against my pulse for one heartbeat. Two. Three—
A sharp jerk and the rope hit the floor, followed by the knife.
He’d cut off the collar.
The booted steps retreated. And when I opened my eyes there was nothing to stop me from rushing to the window and leaping to freedom.
Nothing but curiosity.
I peered around the pillar at the giant warrior. He’d filled the horn and taken it to drink by the fire. The reddish light lined his profile.
“What are you going to do with me?” He could not speak. Had he forgotten how? “Will you kill me?”
He tipped the horn up, hiding half his face a moment. With a weary movement, he faced me. Pressing his lips together, he shook his head.
“Why am I here then? Do you need a witch to break the spell?”
He stared.
I took a step towards him. “You must know I am not that witch. I am not powerful. Not like my mother. She told me—”
But a scrape on the stone silenced me. Hawk was back with a bowl of water and a cloth.
“For you, my lady,” he said with a mocking bow. When I didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t your mother teach you to put things to right?”
He meant for me to clean up all the blood. My mess. My attempt at murder.
Gathering my hair back from my face, I nodded.
Hawk rolled his eyes and he headed back out the door.
“Wait,” I cried. “Tell me his name.”
Hawk stopped with one boot on the step but didn’t turn around. “Told you,” he muttered. “He’s the Sea Wolf.”
“That’s what they call him,” I said, exasperated. “What’s his name?”
Hawk shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“You don’t know his name?”
“He don’t know. He don’t remember it. Forgotten how to speak, too.” Hawk tugged his ear and smoothed the feather hanging from it. “If you want him to talk, you’ll have to teach him. Might as well name him, too.” And he left.
I covered my face with my hands. The fire crackled, a warm, welcoming sound. If I was a captive, at least I was comfortable.
For now.
Ignoring the boulders in my stomach, I took up the cloth and wet it. “So, it’s up to me to name you?” I murmured as I wiped my lips and face clean. “Mac Tíre. That’s what the villagers call a wolf. Though you’re not from the country, are you? Can’t put a foot on land.”
When I was done washing, I carried the bowl of water to the hearthside. The Sea Wolf watched me calmly. He had no anger for what I’d done. No, he’d been amused. I should be frightened to be cooped up with a madman but felt at ease.
I went right up to him. “I can’t think of a good name for you, but mine’s Muireann. Shall we cry truce for now?”
He tilted his head in that way of his and I knew he was silently laughing at me. It was better than hearing him laugh out loud.
“I guess I better clean you up.” I pursed my lips and went to my task, wiping the blood I’d spilled from his shoulders and chest. He was broad and well-formed, though his muscles were broken by more than a few scars.
“I suppose you can be hurt?” I asked, dabbing timidly at the ridged flesh. His hand covered mine and drew it along, up over his chest to this throat. Under his hand and mine, the cloth wiped at the skin until the red stain was gone. He tipped his head back, showing me the new white scar running along the underside of his jaw. The cut I’d just made had healed completely. Indeed, it looked like it had been made long ago.
Not even my mother’s magic could do this. I swallowed and started to turn away.
He grabbed my wrist and gave a grunt. It sounded like “No.”
“I’m just getting more water.”
“No.” He took the cloth from my hand and maneuvered me to stand in front of the fire. I stood firm, facing him, even though my head came only to the middle of his chest.
His large hands fastened on the collar of my gown. He ripped it in half. It fell away. A pause and he ripped my under shift away too. He’d stripped my stockings and my boots when he took me. Now I was naked, with nothing to wear.
I suppose this was fair. I had tried to kill him with a hidden knife.
Despite the fire, I shivered. Now what?
The warrior stepped back, his bright gaze roaming over me, leaving warmth in its wake. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than the one in the hearth. My heartbeat tripped over itself, but I did not want to run. I wanted to stay and touch him. Explore the ridges of his muscles and scars. Bathe in his honeyed scent, let it intoxicate me.
He was wild and more brutal than my intended bridegroom. Why did I feel this way?
Gentle fingers tugged my wild hair back from my face.
My nipples furled. Did he think me ugly or fair?
Did I care?
Pushing me away from the hearth, he prowled around me. I stepped out of my dress before it’d ensnare my feet. I had nothing to wear but pelts, now. The thought didn’t bother me as much as I should.
“I’m not a witch,” I started. “I mean, not like my mother. She was the one with all the power.” The warrior paced around me again and I stiffened. My spine prickled in warning—a wolf was hunting me.
Not just hunting. He’d caught me.
“I know nothing of curses or lifting them. I would help you if I could—”
Grasping my hand, the Sea Wolf drew me to the bed. This was it then.
“I’m not a virgin either,” I blurted.
He raised a blond brow.
My arms came up to cover my naked chest, and I forced them down. “I’m old enough to do as I please.” I’d never had a great love, but I’d dabbled with the pleasures of the flesh. My mother taught me enough herblore to avoid bearing a child and even if she hadn’t, Nanny was adamant I drink her disgusting brews daily.