Hed forced his wolf to run away rather than risk frightening her further, or worse, making himself known to her. He could not afford to share the secrets of his people with Abigail.
Besides, he was supposed to be hunting. Not that they needed the meat; they could make his keep by nightfall. If they rode out, but they werent riding today.
His gentle bride needed time to heal before getting back on a horse. She had soaked in the restorative waters of the hot springs last night. And he had left instructions with Niall to make sure she did the same today, but Talorc could not be sure that would be enough.
If the choice was between reaching home tonight but having a wife too sore to mate with and staying an extra day in the hot springs cave, he would choose the extra time away from his clan.
The only other time he had voluntarily spent time away from the people he was responsible to lead was when he had followed his sister and Emily to Balmoral Island. Caitrionas safety had taken precedence at that time. He had no such considerations now, but that hadnt stopped him from dictating a second night spent at the caves.
He refused to consider how aberrant that choice was for him to make. Nor did he have any interest in contemplating why he would make such a decision.
He only knew his wolf was in complete agreement and that was enough for him.
Thinking he should at least make some effort to hunt, he leaned forward and sniffed at a small pile of leaves. There was definitely something there, but it wasnt prey. Not of the animal variety anyway.
The smell was not that of his warriors and certainly not the enticing
fragrance of his new wife. It was too fresh to be more than an hour old. Which meant someone who wasnt supposed to be here, had been.
He lifted his head, taking in the monochromatic image of his surroundings that he got in his wolf form. He was definitely still on his land, newly deeded to him by Scotlands king. A growl rumbled in his animal chest as he scented the ground around him again. Six distinct traces, two Chrechte and four human. All males.
A hunting party? A mistake? Or a challenge to Sinclair ownership of the territory dowered him by the king?
The Donegal laird was aging without a clear successor. He presided over one of the smaller clans and Chrechte pack within it, which was only a mere handful of shape-changers. Even without the kings intervention, the other laird would have ended up ceding the land to Talorcs much larger clan and Chrechte pack, and they both knew it.
Never a large group, the Donegal clan had lost too many to war. The lairds son had died at the hands of the same English bastards responsible for Talorcs fathers death. The young warrior had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, patrolling his borders with a small band of soldiers when the English contingent bent on stealing the Sinclair Royal Treasure had crossed Donegal land.
That was the reason Talorc had not yet used might to press his claim to the disputed territory. His father had been responsible for bringing the betraying English bitch to the Highlands. Talorc did not dismiss the consequences of that act.
He had gone so far as to offer use of the springs to the Chrechte of the Donegal clan for their mating ceremonies and for use in clan healings, with the understanding that the Sinclair clanspeoples needs would take precedence. However, he would not tolerate the Donegal clan hunting on the newly claimed Sinclair land. Not in human or wolf form.
The Donegal laird had accepted both Talorcs generosity and his stipulation regarding the hunting.
So, what in the hell were six strangers doing on his land? Were they even from the Donegal clan? Neither of the Chrechte carried the scent of the laird. Talorc would have recognized it.
No matter where they were from, they didnt belong here and he meant for them to know it.
He followed their scent trail until it became clear the four humans and two Chrechte were headed in the direction of the hot springs. Toward his wife. Talorcs four-legged gait picked up speed until he was flying across the earthen landscape.
He lifted his head to howl a message of alarm to his warriors. Those that had gone hunting with him would head back toward the clearing, if they were not already there, and those he had left behind to guard his wife would be put on alert.
Acknowledging it wasnt merely his warriors who might have already made it to the clearing, Talorc pushed himself to go faster. His huge wolfs body picked up speed as the plants and trees he passed went by in a blur in shades of black and gray.
He burst into the clearing at a dead run, his keen wolfs senses telling him the interlopers were indeed ahead of him. He skidded to a stop behind six youthful warriors wearing the Donegal clan plaid, their stances that of challenge.
Niall and Airril had taken position in front of the entrance to the cave. They did not look unduly worried, but they were clearly ready to do battle if necessary.