A Highland Werewolf Wedding (Heart of the Wolf #11)

“Now is the time, and as to the place, we’ll discuss this elsewhere alone anywhere you choose to go, or the ladies can leave your sitting room while we speak of this matter here.”

“Or everyone can just stay where they are,” Elaine said, rising to her feet, folding her arms, and looking as though she was going to defend his mother. His mother, who didn’t need anyone defending her at any time.

“Aye,” his mother said, smiling up at Cearnach. “Did I tell you how much I like your wee lass? A true warrior she is. A real keeper. Did you know she left here because she thought Calla had been taken hostage?”

Cearnach looked at Elaine, his mouth agape, unable to contain his surprise.

“The last time I saw you look like this, like a dark thunderstorm approaching, you had run off the road and ruined two of your tires. Surely whatever it is can’t be as important as all that,” Elaine said lightly.

The last time he imagined he had looked like this was just a few hours ago when she had run off and her kin were trying to chase her down. “He lied to you about Calla?” Cearnach said to Elaine.

“He said he’d taken her hostage, and he said he’d kill you like he had my other suitors.”

He didn’t wish to discuss this matter with his mother in front of the other ladies. He didn’t want to wait to hear her speak the truth, either. He didn’t even want to say what he had to say in front of Elaine. Yet when his mate told him why she had run off, he felt his heart go out to her. She hadn’t done it just to escape Rafferty, but to save Calla and protect Cearnach.

“What difference does it make, Cearnach?” his mother said, her smile warm. “She is yours, like she should have been the first time you went after her. In St. Andrews.”

He scowled at his mother. “You knew, didn’t you?”

His mother took a deep breath and exhaled. “I knew that she needed you and that you needed her. Now run along while we decide on the flowers.”

He ground his teeth and looked from his mother to his mate, her brows raised as she waited for the storm to blow over.

“She wants purple flowers,” he said to Calla, and then swept his gaze over the other ladies assembled there as if making sure they all understood. “That’s all that needs to be said.”

Then he stalked forward and scooped Elaine up in his arms, though she let out a small squeal of surprise at his action before wrapping her arms around his neck. “There are different variations of purple colors, you know,” she said.

“Aye, and you’ve looked at the blasted flowers long enough.” Even if she hadn’t had time to look at them, purple was purple. “We need to discuss more important matters.”

“Oh?”

“She’ll see you ladies later.” He turned and stalked out of the room.

She sighed. “Cearnach…”

“Aye, lass?”

“What in heaven’s name was that all about?”

“I wished a word with my mother.”

“Did you get what you wanted out of the conversation?”

He took a deep breath, nuzzled his face in her hair, and said, “Aye. My mother is a canny woman. She was right.”

“About what?”

“That you were meant to be mine, no one else’s, no matter the circumstances. You were wounded on the battlefield, weren’t you?”

She took a deep breath. “Just a scratch. It’ll heal.”

“Vardon,” he growled.

“Don’t worry, Cearnach. Next time I see him, I’ll kill him.” She gave Cearnach a small smile.

God, how he loved his she-wolf.

He knew why his mother and even Flynn had been so insistent that he mate Elaine right away. She needed protection from the past and a family for the future. He was both for her.

Later that afternoon, the ladies gathered in the garden room to talk further about Elaine’s wedding, this time without Cearnach’s interference as his brothers were practicing sword-fighting with him, at their mother’s request.

“I don’t know what I should do,” Elaine said to the women.

Julia and Shelley were sitting together on one sofa. Cearnach’s mother and aunt had taken up another, while Cearnach’s cousin Heather and Calla sat on a third one in front of the fire as it crackled and popped with welcome heat. Sheba’s pups played in a bundle of teeth and fur and legs nearby, growling and woofing. Elaine’s own puppy, Whiskers, named because of her funny little beard, was chewing on her shoelaces.

She was conflicted about wearing her own plaid at the wedding. “I’ve never worn the sett of my clan, but I can’t just borrow someone else’s for the wedding.”

“You could wear a white wedding gown,” Shelley said. “Some of the wolves do for their Scottish weddings. I thought of doing so, but my Uncle Ethan wouldn’t hear of it.”

Surprised that Shelley hadn’t worn what she wished for such a special occasion, Elaine looked at Julia for her input.

“I wore my clan’s plaid,” Julia said. “It felt right to me.”

Elaine chewed her lip as she watched Sheba’s pups biting and growling and yipping in a variation on who’s top dog of the heap. “All right,” she said. “I’ll wear my clan’s plaid.”

Julia and Shelley frowned at her, not looking too happy about her decision, although all along they had said the choice was hers.

“Think of it as Romeo and Juliet, only with a happy ending. I doubt the feuding families will be happy with the match, but it’s kind of like mending fences… in a wolf way.”

Shelley smiled but shook her head. “More likely it will be another reason for them to hate our clan.”

Our clan. Elaine knew she was not only mating with a wolf from this clan, she was also joining them. Becoming family. Part of a pack. Who would have ever thought that a near collision with a wolf from an enemy clan would turn out so well? That he’d become her lover, her mate.

She was finally home. Not in a place she’d ever imagined. It felt right. Good.

“And,” she said, “I want to hold the wedding at Senton Castle.” She knew that would not go over well with Cearnach’s people. Senton Castle was beautiful, even in ruins. It was her birthright. The kirk was still standing. No glass on the windows, no pews to sit in. A stone floor and a roof over their heads in case it rained. That’s all that mattered.

“Not in our chapel?” his mother asked, her brows raised. She sounded more surprised than annoyed.

“I feel… I feel I must pay homage to my parents, to my uncles in some small way. What better way than to sanctify Cearnach’s and my marriage in my family’s chapel?” She thought it would feel like she was including her family in this joyous occasion. That the fighting between the clans had finally ceased. At least between her Hawthorn family and the MacNeills. The Kilpatricks and McKinleys were another story.

His mother nodded. “We will have to ask his lairdship if he approves, but I will put in a good word for you.” She smiled and looked at Julia.

Julia sighed. “I will attempt to convince Ian that you have your heart set on it.”

Calla smiled brightly, and Elaine didn’t think anything was too daunting for the woman when it came to setting up celebrations. “It’s a brilliant idea. Not unlike weddings held where the bride and groom stand in the waves at a beach or skydive into matrimony or scuba dive with their friends. They share in the history of a place.”

“But you’ve never shared anything with Cearnach at Senton Castle,” Cearnach’s Aunt Agnes said. “You’ve never been there with your family. I don’t see why we have to go to the ruins, truly.”

“Cearnach and I did spend time there,” Elaine said, recalling fondly how they’d visited the ruins like two lupus garous on a date. Their first. The way his hand had held hers, keeping her from slipping on the wet, mossy stones. The way he hadn’t wanted to release her even after she was safely inside the inner bailey. The way he’d smiled at her when she’d raced all over the castle as a wolf. “Have you ever entered a home and felt as if you were welcome and that you weren’t just a visitor? That something about the place made you feel good, joyful, at home?”

Shelley and Julia nodded. Cearnach’s mother and aunt had probably never considered going anywhere other than their home at Argent Castle so no place else would feel like home.

Elaine shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but when I was there, I felt as though I’d been there before. I didn’t see it as a place of ruin, but a place where once my people lived, broke bread, laughed, worshipped, worked, fought, and played. My parents were even wed in that kirk. They loved one another until the day they died. That’s where I want to marry Cearnach.”

Cearnach’s mother quickly brushed away tears. “Something in my eye. Blasted dust,” she said.

Julia tried to fight a smile. So did Shelley.

Calla didn’t bother. Aunt Agnes’s face reddened a little as if she was embarrassed for her sister by marriage.

On the day of the wedding, the sun was poking out of the light, fluffy clouds. Elaine knew it was going to be a grand day as Ian walked her down the aisle of the kirk, sunlight reflecting off the stained glass of the vases holding lavender flowers. The colorful flickering lights shimmered in the medieval gray stone building, like tiny winged fairies of some Celtic myth or legend.

The men all wore their kilts and Prince Charlie jackets, belted swords at their waists, dirks in their hose. The women wore long plaid gowns, mostly of the green and blue plaid and yellow of the MacNeills, while Elaine wore the McKinley plaid, predominantly green and blue and red, since the Hawthorn didn’t have their own sett and had been allied with the rest of their McKinley kin over the years.

When the minister asked if anyone would object to the marriage, Elaine smiled at Cearnach who was looking down at her with such profound love that tears gathered in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to cry, told herself she wouldn’t, but she loved him and couldn’t help herself.