Read Online Highland Wolf Pact: Blood Reign: A Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance by Selena Kitt - Free Book Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
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commits ’erself to this temple, she can’na go.”
“Yer daughter would’ve liked to know ye were alive,” Griff said softly. He saw his words hurt her, but he felt they had to be said. “Safe.”
“All is as it should be.” Alaric stood, leaning over to kiss the top of his wife’s bent head.
“Yer ’ere now.” Aleesa lifted her gaze to meet Griff’s, such hope in her eyes. “Ye can carry word back to m’Kirstin, can’t ye?”
Griff nodded. “Aye.”
The woman stood, too, helping her husband and daughter clear the table. Griff moved to help them, but Aleesa insisted, as their guest, that he sit.
“The Book of the Moon Midwives.” Aleesa shook her head in disbelief as she made them all more tea. “I’d like t’see it. Read it—what I could make out. Ye could read it t’me, Alaric.”
Bridget sat beside him, holding her own cup of tea. She was quiet now, far more subdued. Clearly he had brought new and mayhaps not welcome information into this little, isolated family. He worried about the way her brow wrinkled as she blew gently on the hot liquid, looking into it as if it might hold some answers.
“All t’wulvers in m’den can read’n’write both Gaelic’n’English,” Griff told Aleesa. “M’mother was English—but she learned Gaelic right alongside t’pups.”
“They read’n’write?” Alaric’s eyes widened.
“Aye. She’s big on education.” Griff laughed. “And had quite an influence over m’father.”
“I guess so.” Alaric laughed too, shaking his head.
“I don’t see much point in knowin’ how t’read’n’write.” Griff shrugged. “If wulvers were meant t’be men, we wouldn’t be half-wolf, eh?”
“So you’ve seen t’prophecy written?” Aleesa asked, looking at him in wonder.
“No, I’ve heard it told,” Griff replied. He’d heard so much about it, his whole life, he really didn’t care to actually read the words. “M’mother, m’aunts, all t’healers’ve poured over that book backwards’n’forwards, since t’day I was born.”
“What’s this prophecy?” Bridget spoke up, frowning between Griff and her parents.
“I thought, mayhaps, t’was just legend,” Aleesa told her daughter. “But if they’ve found t’book... if The Book of the Moon Midwives exists...”
“Oh, aye, it exists,” Griff assured her. “That’s how I found out ’bout t’lost packs.”
“There’s a prophecy ’bout a red wulver who’ll bring together t’lost packs,” Aleesa explained to her daughter. “I did’na know it would e’er come to pass in m’lifetime…”
Bridget sighed, looking at Griff, narrowing her gaze at him. “Yer this red wulver?”
“So they say.” He shrugged. If it served him to be the red wulver here, in this temple, then he would be that red wulver. If it got him what he wanted—the location of the lost, leaderless packs—then so be it.
“If he’s t’red wulver this prophecy speaks of...” Bridget put her mug on the table, leaning in to look at the other priestess. “Mother, only t’dragon can tell us fer sure.”
“Dragon?” Griff’s hand went to his empty sheath. He hated being unarmed. It was like walking around naked.
“Come.” Aleesa nodded, holding a hand out to Griff.
“Where’re we goin’?” he asked as they all rose. He didn’t like the sound of this.
“To t’sacred pool,” Bridget told him, a small smile playing on her lips. “Mayhaps t’find t’very thing ye seek.”
Griff hesitated at the edge of the so-called sacred pool, watching Alaric take up as guardian across from him, arms folded. The men stood, simply a witness as the women busied themselves with bowls of herbs and ceremonial swords.
He had sought this place out in hopes of finding information about the lost packs, but now that he was here, he wasn’t quite so sure that he wanted to know, after all. He’d dismissed the idea of the prophecy his whole life. In part, because his mother had been doubtful of it
“Yer daughter would’ve liked to know ye were alive,” Griff said softly. He saw his words hurt her, but he felt they had to be said. “Safe.”
“All is as it should be.” Alaric stood, leaning over to kiss the top of his wife’s bent head.
“Yer ’ere now.” Aleesa lifted her gaze to meet Griff’s, such hope in her eyes. “Ye can carry word back to m’Kirstin, can’t ye?”
Griff nodded. “Aye.”
The woman stood, too, helping her husband and daughter clear the table. Griff moved to help them, but Aleesa insisted, as their guest, that he sit.
“The Book of the Moon Midwives.” Aleesa shook her head in disbelief as she made them all more tea. “I’d like t’see it. Read it—what I could make out. Ye could read it t’me, Alaric.”
Bridget sat beside him, holding her own cup of tea. She was quiet now, far more subdued. Clearly he had brought new and mayhaps not welcome information into this little, isolated family. He worried about the way her brow wrinkled as she blew gently on the hot liquid, looking into it as if it might hold some answers.
“All t’wulvers in m’den can read’n’write both Gaelic’n’English,” Griff told Aleesa. “M’mother was English—but she learned Gaelic right alongside t’pups.”
“They read’n’write?” Alaric’s eyes widened.
“Aye. She’s big on education.” Griff laughed. “And had quite an influence over m’father.”
“I guess so.” Alaric laughed too, shaking his head.
“I don’t see much point in knowin’ how t’read’n’write.” Griff shrugged. “If wulvers were meant t’be men, we wouldn’t be half-wolf, eh?”
“So you’ve seen t’prophecy written?” Aleesa asked, looking at him in wonder.
“No, I’ve heard it told,” Griff replied. He’d heard so much about it, his whole life, he really didn’t care to actually read the words. “M’mother, m’aunts, all t’healers’ve poured over that book backwards’n’forwards, since t’day I was born.”
“What’s this prophecy?” Bridget spoke up, frowning between Griff and her parents.
“I thought, mayhaps, t’was just legend,” Aleesa told her daughter. “But if they’ve found t’book... if The Book of the Moon Midwives exists...”
“Oh, aye, it exists,” Griff assured her. “That’s how I found out ’bout t’lost packs.”
“There’s a prophecy ’bout a red wulver who’ll bring together t’lost packs,” Aleesa explained to her daughter. “I did’na know it would e’er come to pass in m’lifetime…”
Bridget sighed, looking at Griff, narrowing her gaze at him. “Yer this red wulver?”
“So they say.” He shrugged. If it served him to be the red wulver here, in this temple, then he would be that red wulver. If it got him what he wanted—the location of the lost, leaderless packs—then so be it.
“If he’s t’red wulver this prophecy speaks of...” Bridget put her mug on the table, leaning in to look at the other priestess. “Mother, only t’dragon can tell us fer sure.”
“Dragon?” Griff’s hand went to his empty sheath. He hated being unarmed. It was like walking around naked.
“Come.” Aleesa nodded, holding a hand out to Griff.
“Where’re we goin’?” he asked as they all rose. He didn’t like the sound of this.
“To t’sacred pool,” Bridget told him, a small smile playing on her lips. “Mayhaps t’find t’very thing ye seek.”
Griff hesitated at the edge of the so-called sacred pool, watching Alaric take up as guardian across from him, arms folded. The men stood, simply a witness as the women busied themselves with bowls of herbs and ceremonial swords.
He had sought this place out in hopes of finding information about the lost packs, but now that he was here, he wasn’t quite so sure that he wanted to know, after all. He’d dismissed the idea of the prophecy his whole life. In part, because his mother had been doubtful of it
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