Beware of the Wolves. . .

Chapter 11: Caught & Conflicted

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Like a scolded child I sat at the small table in Torian's chambers. I refused to call them ours. This wasn't my home. I'd been promised that I was welcome here but I felt trapped, not so much as allowed to leave these rooms.

A tray of food was set before me, brought in by a different servant from yesterday who left as soon as she came. She'd given me a curious look and a strained smile but that was the end of any interaction for me.

I was alone. Again. Though that was something I had grown used to in my old home, at least there I and the freedom to do as I pleased. No eyes had watched me, my father hadn't cared where I disappeared to or when I came back. Here, I was sure that now there would always be someone watching my every move because my husband no longer trusted me.

I pushed the bread about, not hungry now in the slightest. My stomach was churning and I worried anything I ate wouldn't stay down for long. Shoving myself away from the table and to my feet, I wrapped my arms around myself as I started pacing the room.

I'd need to regain his trust. Things would be so much harder if we were at odds with eachother. Artair had said that everyone wanted me to feel at home, but Torian was making sure in the two days I had been here that I was isolated from the rest of the household!

Laughter echoed from the courtyard and I couldn't help my curiosity. I wanted to know more about those that lived and worked here, I wanted to make friends. Peering out the window, my shoulders slumped. My husband stood next to a beautiful, tall, blonde woman who positively beamed up at him. This must have been the woman that was keeping him from his own bed and wife.

My nails dug into my arm, jealousy creeping up. What respectable woman would flirt so with a married man? Torian yelled something over at Jasper who was sat polishing a sword that made the young soldier grin.

Whatever had been said had the woman laughing again, the sound musical and light as she touched Torian's arm. He grinned down at her, adoration in his gaze.

He loved her.

As if sensing eyes on him, he looked up, spotting me watching. I hoped he could see the anger and accusation in my face. The woman followed his gaze and I jumped away, pressing myself against the wall. I didn't want her to see that I was jealous, fearing she would find some satisfaction in it.

My heart was hammering in my chest, beating hard against the hand that rested on my chest.

I didn't like the way my body reacted when Torian's eyes had been focused on me. Something primal had risen with the need to claim him as mine in front of the woman trying to steal him for herself. The force of that feeling terrified me and it took more effort than I cared to admit to keep still.

I should have run.

What chance did I have against a woman like her? She was the complete opposite of me in colouring. I frowned at my own thoughts, shaking my head. Did I even want to fight for Torian's affections? Surely this was the best of a bad situation. This way, I had the security of family and a home, without having to play wife. He could bed his mistress, and I would have my freedom.

With my resolve strengthened, I straightened up.

The door swung open, my heart skipping a beat at the shrieking creak of its hinges. I nearly sank against the wall again in fright. Torian stalked in, hazel eyes falling on where I cowered against the wall. He seemed to lose some of the anger in his eyes as he took in my demeanor. I watched him, unsure once more exactly what to think of him.

His mouth opened and closed a few times in a way that had been endearing to me a few days ago. I had liked that he was as nervous as I was, but now I feared our reasons for feeling uneasy around each other were different. Just as I was about to condemn him in my thoughts, he coughed for my attention.

From behind his back, he pulled out my sword. A small gasp left my lips and I stepped forward, a hand hesitantly reaching out for it. His gaze flicked from the blade to me.

"Maybe you would have chosen to run instead of letting my brother convince you to return had you had this in your possession," he said, a small hint of accusation in his tone that I couldn't blame him for.

He held it just out of reach, as if wanting to make me move towards him.

I couldn't. My feet were stuck to the stone floor while I assessed him. It wasn't anger on his face at my having had run, it was hurt. My cheeks went bright red and I looked down, ashamed. I should have known he hadn't been so easily fooled by Artair's story.

When I still couldn't find any words, he stepped a little closer.

"I'm in two minds about allowing you to have this," he admitted, his hand sliding over the Celtic scabbard

"Please, my mother gave it to me," I said quickly, taking the step, giving him a pleading look.

He considered me a moment before placing it in my desperate hands. Just as I was to step away, his hand grabbed mine. His touch burned. My eyes flew to his to see a stern face. I froze. Did he feel what I felt? As if his skin was on fire?

While his grip wasn't painful, it was firm and braced myself for his next words.

"If I allow you to keep this, you must promise me you will not think of running again. If you try, I will hunt you down and drag you back. Every time. Trust me, you do not want the humiliation that will bring you in front of our people," he warned, waiting for my frightened nod before he released me.

I stumbled back, clutching the sword to my chest. For a moment, as I swore his eyes glowed a startling amber, he almost looked guilty. He moved past me to the table I'd been sitting at, his fingers brushing over the tray.

"You haven't eaten," he noted with a frown, looking back at me.

"I wasn't hungry."

He hummed, once again seeming like he wasn't sure how to act around me. Was he liked this with anyone else? He'd seemed far more confident and sure of himself with the soldiers that had travelled with us, the nobles of court, and even our Queen. What was it about me that made him so uncomfortable?

I watched him closley, my grip never loosening on my sword. He noticed that too as he took a seat and motioned for me to join him. Hesitantly, I took the opposite seat.

"Do you know how to use that?" he asked, nodding to my sword.

I wasn't sure if I should tell him the truth. Not many men would be happy to hear their wives knew how to wield a weapon, but as his doubting gaze settled on me, I lifted my chin. Defiant.

"Yes. My mother made sure I knew how. I can also use a bow, hunt, dress the meat, I know which berries are edible, what herbs are useful in healing and how to start a fire in the wilderness," I told him confidently.

His lips twitched in amusement. Whether that was because he didn't believe me, or because he wasn't expecting it, I didn't know. Whatever the reason, his smile put me at ease.

I set my sword against the wall, relaxing. We seemed to have found a topic of conversation now.

"Your mother taught you all of this?"

"About herbs, yes. She had tutors teach me everything else. Amongst my studies of languages, music and art, she made sure if anything were to happen, I could take care of myself," I said, looking out the window.

It hurt to talk of her, even as little as this. My hand fisted where it rested on the table. The gentle of brush of rough fingers over my knuckles brought my gaze flying back to my husband. There was pain in his eyes and I didn't pull away from his offered comfort. There had been nobody to hold me after her death, nobody to tell me everything would be okay, or to help guide me.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

"I am very sorry for your loss, Lady Máili," he whispered. "I couldn't imagine losing a member of my family."

But it hadn't just been my mother I'd lost the day she'd died of whatever nameless disease had eaten away at her. I'd lost my father too.

"Will you always be so formal with me?" I mumbled, pulling my hand away from his touch that sparked desires I didn't understand.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I have no right to be anything but formal with you right now, my wife."

If only I knew what he meant by that. So much of what he said felt like a puzzle for me to figure out.

"You're so different from your father and brother," I sighed, then immediately wished I had said nothing.

His head tipped to the side, a crease forming between his brows. "What do you mean?"

I shifted in my seat, biting my lip. The burn of his gaze never left my face and I took a shaky breath before finally lifting my head. Yet the words refused to leave my lips which only had him looking more concerned.

"They are both far more welcoming and friendly," I finally managed to choke out.

His face hardened once more, any sympathy or amusement once there disappearing. He sat back heavily, the chair creaking, and I feared I had upset him.

"Do you prefer my brother?"

I nearly laughed, covering my mouth with a hand. He bristled.

"I like your brother, but I do not wish he was my husband over you," I replied honestly.

I had to blink to make sure what I was seeing was real. He was grinning, and his whole face seemed to light up. I grinned back, deciding I rather liked this side of him. The tension between us melted away, and I began to believe this would work until I remembered the woman I'd seen him with outside. She'd been far more than overly familiar with him. Did I have a right to ask about her?

"Will you join my family for lunch? My sister is desperate to meet you. She almost followed me up but I thought I would ask you first if you felt up to it after this morning's. . . excursions. I could make your excuses if you would rather wait," he suggested.

My heart clenched at his thoughtfulness and I decided that I had to at least make an effort with him and his family. "I would like that very much."

That charming grin stayed in place and I felt confident that I would be alright with his family. If they were as friendly as Artair, his mother and his father, there was nothing to worry about. I wondered how many members of his family stayed here. It wasn't odd for extended family, cousins, aunts and uncles to stay together; especially in a manor like this. Now that I'd seen a little more of it, I began to think calling it a castle was more appropriate.

Then something clicked into place. "What do you mean, she nearly followed you up?"

"We're you not watching us both from the window?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

I almost fell out of my chair. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or not but Torian looked highly amused as I stumbled over words until I managed to splutter, "That was your sister?"

"Do you think I let any female touch me like that when my jealous wife is watching from our rooms?"

"I wasn't jealous," I snapped, straightening up in my chair.

He chuckled, shrugging a shoulder. "If you say so, wife. I could feel you watching her as much as you watched me. We have a few hours until lunch and my mother suggested I show you the gardens she gifted to you for your herbs."

"You're not worried what people will say about a lady of the house growing herbs?" I asked carefully, watching him.

"Believe me, nobody will bat an eye. It's far from the strangest thing to happen on our land,"

More of his cryptic talk.

I tipped my head, wishing I knew what the mysterious glint in his eye meant before I remembered Margaret's words. "Do you mean the wolves?"

He froze, the smile falling from his face as he leaned in close, clasping my hand tightly in his. His eyes searched my face and butterflies errupted in my stomach.

"What do you know about wolves?" he asked harshly, making me flinch.

I yanked my hand away and stood. It was the first time I'd felt frightened of him and I found that I was sure if Torian wanted, he was capable of causing great pain. How had such a simple question changed his demeanor so?

Backing away, my gaze flicked to my sword. "I know only the rumours I've heard. That wolves roam your lands, attacking travellers, killing livestock in nearby counties, that their howls can be heard for miles through the glens."

The tension never left his shoulder and something wild seemed to peer through his hazel eyes. My heart hammered in my chest, and I tried to stop the way my breasts heaved with every struggling breath.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you. You're right to be wary. Wolves have been spotted many times on our land, so please, Máili, don't ever go out riding alone again," Torian warned.

Whatever about him that had frightened me had disappeared to be replaced with worry. He was concerned about my safety. Yet, it was the use of my name that really made me falter and heed his warning.

"I won't," I promised, unable to move from where I stood.

"I know you love to ride, and I swear I will make sure you get out as much as you like. Since you seem to have taken a liking to my brother, I'm sure he would be happy to accompany you. Or Jasper, I trust him and you two also seemed to get along on our way here. They know where is safe and out of the wolves way."

My lips twitched in amusement as I walked back to the table. "I think it may be you who harbours some jealousy, husband. Artair made me laugh, and Jasper is nice to talk to, and friendly. I do not have secret feelings for either."

Torian stood and my neck strained to look up at him. I was tall for a woman, that had been said many times, but Torian, his father, and his brother towered over even me. Even his sister nearly matched him in height. Only his mother was a little shorter than myself.

"Good. I wouldn't like to compete with either," he replied with a smirk before taking my hand to place it on his arm.

My cheeks flushed, and I hoped what I'd heard in his words wasn't me thinking too much, or being overly hopeful. Torian wanted me. All to himself. And I hoped I was the only one that he wanted. Maybe it was the childish fantasy of a naive girl.

Husbands had affairs all the time, it was normal for them to take mistresses. After all, he had said no women would touch him while I watched but what about when I wasn't watching?

"Are you going to tell me what's troubling you?" Torian asked as he lead me through the halls and down the stairs.

Was there any point in lying? If I was going to be trapped here, surely it was best to build a relationship on trust. Especially as I had decided to come back of my own free will.

"Artair was surprised to hear you had been sleeping somewhere else. It made me wonder if maybe. . .and then I saw you with your sister and I thought-"

"You think I've been avoiding you to honour a mistress?" Torian laughed and once again, I pulled myself away from his touch.

He reached out to grab my arm, still laughing and offending my own honour.

"Do not make fun of me! I am not stupid. I'm not a child. My mother taught me to follow the old religion, as I believe your family do, and I am well aware that there are no rules about who we lie with. You refused to consummate our marriage, you have refused to share a bed with me, you slept in someone else's room last night. You really expect me to believe you don't have a whore somewhere-"

"Enough, Máili!" Torian growled, his eyes flicking wildly around the large entrance hall. "You have no clue about the things you speak of and I will not stand here and listen to you slander my name over things you know nothing about."

"Of course I know nothing, you do not tell me anything," I snarled, fury filling my veins. "You want me to feel safe and at home in a place that's surrounded by secrets. Your mood changes quicker than the wind when I say something that for some reason angers you, yet you do not tell me why. Am I to remain silent in case I say the wrong thing because you deny me the knowledge of your ways?"

He was glaring at me but I got the impression it was because I was right. I yanked my arm out of his grip, jutting my chin because I'd won. The strange look returned to his eyes, glittering dangerously. I stood my ground despite the urge to flee. Yet a small part of me was drawn towards the energy that flowed from him, something instinctual answering the call.

"You're right. I haven't explained everything and you of all people have every right to know," he conceded, surprising me.

I faltered, having not expected him to agree with me so easily, especially after the way I had shouted at him. Suspicion grew but there didn't seem to be an ulterior motive as he looked at me.

"Yes. . .exactly," I stuttered, hating that he was the one in control and confident now.

Had that been his plan?

"But it's more complicated than you could possibly understand. You're not ready," he finished, turning on his heel towards the door.

I wasn't any less frustrated with him or my situation, but the promise of things coming to light eventually was enough for now. Stubbornness was a trait I had gotten from my mother, and I wouldn't rest until I understood what I had overheard the other night.

My husband paused when he realised I wasn't beside him, giving me a challenging look, daring me to follow him, to accept my fate and his rules. Keeping my head held high, I folded my hands in front of me and walked to his side.

When he offered his elbow, I was quick to take it. I wondered if we could manage to walk through the herb garden without another fight.