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steady pain pinching at the base. He growled low in his throat, and it reminded him of the animal he had been forced to become in order to survive. He hadn’t been able to shed that beast inside him, for fear that it might be of use one day, but he worried that he would not always be able to control the beast.
    The growl surfaced again when he recalled the trouble Lachlan had with disturbing dreams after battle, another fault he took to heart and considered his own. If he had been victorious against the barbarians, then Ronan would still be with them and Lachlan would not suffer as he did.
    He was not the leader he should have been that day, and that was why he kept the beast alive andwell inside him. Never would he allow one of his to be taken from him, never would he not protect his people and his land, and the beast remained to make sure of it.
    Cavan walked over to the bed and bent down on his haunches to gently run his finger along his wife’s cheek. “I will keep you safe, even from me.”

Chapter 9
    A few days later, after a brief bout with fever, Lachlan incessantly complained about being confined to his bed until Addie could no longer bear to listen and freed him, though not before issuing strict warnings as to what he could and could not do.
    Honora kept her laughter to herself as she listened to Addie’s commands, knowing full well that Lachlan would adhere to none of them. But satisfied that his leg seemed to be healing nicely, she didn’t worry over it.
    “And do you have anything to add?” Lachlan asked, drawing Honora out of her musing.
    She smiled. “Keep the bandage clean and the stitches dry and you should fair well.”
    “I like her list better than yours, Mother,” Lachlan said with a laugh.
    “Then make certain you adhere to it,” Addie cautioned and shook her finger at her son. “Or else.”
    Lachlan laughed louder. “Or else what?”
    “Or you answer to me,” Cavan said without an ounce of laughter or a pinch of a smile.
    Lachlan’s laughter turned to a grin. “A challenge you are certain to lose.”
    “I doubt it, but you are welcome to try.” Cavan walked over to Honora and held out his hand. “Come, wife, I have need of you.”
    After briefly hesitating, Honora placed her hand in his. She wanted to ask him what need he spoke of, but another part of her didn’t want to hear the answer. She thought to inform him that she had duties to tend to, but duty to her husband usurped all other matters. In truth, she knew she had no choice but to tend to his need, whatever it might be. His warm fingers closed strongly around her cool ones as if he didn’t intend to let her go.
    She was surprised when they stopped in the great hall and he retrieved her green wool cloak that sat on the end of one of the tables and handed it to her without explanation. Honora slipped it on, assuming he intended for them to go outdoors, but instead he directed her to the staircase and they climbed the stairs to the battlements.
    He preceded her along the walkway and stopped to glance out over the land that stretched far out before them, Honora halting beside him to enjoy the view.
    “I had hoped to take you for a walk across the moors today, in appreciation for all you have done for my brother,” Cavan said, and pointed to a cloud-infested sky. “But the impending weather prohibits such an excursion.”
    “That is very thoughtful, thank you.”
    He turned to look at her, and she was caught by the gentleness in his handsome features. Gone was the harshness in his dark eyes and the squint of doubt lines that always fanned them. His mouth was visibly relaxed as if he could actually smile if he tried, and his strong chin, while still strong, didn’t jut out as if prepared to suffer a blow. This tender soul, she could get to know.
    Unfortunately, he disappeared in a flash, and she wondering if perhaps it was wishful thinking that had her believing she saw kindness in him.
    “You served me well,