A Highland Werewolf Wedding

chapter 2

Neither Cearnach nor Elaine said another word on the remainder of the trip to the wedding, but when they arrived at the church, he parked and hurried around to get her door, afraid she might think she was dropping him off and leaving. “We’re here.”

“Super, now you can give me my keys back.” She reached out her hand and gave him a small smile.

“Nay. You’re coming to the wedding, and then you’ll take me back to my car so I can get a couple of tires replaced.”

When she didn’t move, he clasped her arm and pulled her out, then slammed the door and hauled her toward the medieval church through the car park that was filled to capacity. “We’re late. Don’t make us any later.”

“You’re late! I’m just forcibly detained. Why do I have to stay for the wedding? You could get a ride with someone else after the ceremony.”

He knew that wasn’t a possibility. “If I couldn’t?” No one here would stick his or her neck out to take Cearnach anywhere, not even to loan him or the person aiding him a phone, knowing that would stoke the McKinley clan’s ire. “I’d be stuck here. Besides, you’ve already missed your appointment. So enjoy a wee bit of Highland romance.”

Which he wasn’t feeling in the least, not with Calla marrying the wrong wolf. He liked her family and they seemed to like him, but he was sure they wouldn’t care for him being here and upsetting things between Calla and her groom.

Elaine quickly studied the building and appeared to be fascinated by the design. She looked like she was a tourist. Maybe she had never been to Scotland before. He could just imagine her pulling out a camera and taking pictures. Yet, he’d bet that she had been. That he’d met her somewhere, and she didn’t want him to recall the incident.

Before she reached into her bag for a camera, he escorted her up the stone steps and into the church.

The front pews were packed with family and friends, most of the males wearing traditional Highland dress. The tartans of different clans were on display, but predominant were the red of the Stewarts and the blue, green, and red of the McKinleys. The MacNeill plaid Cearnach wore was also a blue and green, but with yellow instead of red in the sett.

The bride wore a gown of white and the bridesmaids were in lavender—to match the purple flowers decorating the church, Cearnach thought. Calla looked devastatingly beautiful, her long red-blond hair swept up in a bun, ringlets of curls framing her face, and small flowers decorating her hair as she stood in the wings with her father. She was mostly hidden from the view of the gathered friends and family as she waited while the closest family members were escorted to their seats up front.

Lavender, lilacs, heather, and thistle filled clear glass vases around the outer walls, scenting the confines of the small church. Stained-glass windows let in a small amount of dismal light from the gloomy day. Modern-day lights resembling candles in brass and glass flutes helped to brighten the church somewhat. Dark oak pews that had been used by Highlanders and guests for centuries during worship beckoned him to take a seat, the ends draped in lavender satin bows, ribbons, and flowers.

He glanced at Elaine to see her opinion of the wedding. She was smiling, her gaze sweeping the rest of the gathered clansmen, taking in their clothes and the chapel, breathing in deeply to capture the perfumed air and wolf scents.

As she stood there in that provocative dress, looking seductive and enticing, he wondered what Elaine was really doing here in Scotland. When had she been here before? Even though it was none of his concern, he found he wanted to know more about her: why she knew him, why he knew her, and why she didn’t want him to remember their former association.

In her red dress and with her dark hair, she stood out among the gathered wedding guests, striking and utterly appealing. In one sense, she looked like she was Little Red Riding Hood among the big bad wolves, an outsider, American, not invited to the wedding—and no one would want her here because she was with him.

He noted that the bride’s family was seated on the left side of the church. He was about to escort Elaine to the last pew, which was empty, when she whispered, “I would think you’d have some friends here at the wedding who could help you out.”

She hadn’t asked him a question so he didn’t respond, not wanting to explain that he was here because of Calla, and no one else would be happy to see him.

“Which side are you here for? Groom or bride?” Elaine asked, her voice ultra-low.

“Bride.” When her eyes widened, he clarified, “She’s a friend.”

Elaine’s mouth gaped briefly, then she smiled darkly. “Figures she’d marry someone else.”

Hadn’t he just said Calla was a friend? Not his intended mate? Before he could respond, Elaine pulled her arm free from his hand. He hadn’t realized he’d still been gripping her, keeping her close to him as if protecting her from any other wolf’s interest.

Several of the friends and family members of the bride and groom glanced back over the pews at Cearnach and Elaine, their expressions annoyed that anyone would be this late in arriving at the church as the bride walked up the aisle with her father, the music announcing that part of the ceremony. Then the guests’ eyes widened as they saw just who had arrived. Cearnach definitely wasn’t someone they expected or wanted to attend. Like the gray day outside, the expressions on the groom’s side were especially stormy.

Calla looked back and beamed at Cearnach. Her brilliant smile radiated through the church, chasing away the gloom and making him realize how important it had been to her for him to be here.

Baird McKinley, the groom, looked beyond his bride in Cearnach’s direction, his face reddening when he saw Cearnach. The two men locked gazes. Cearnach’s expression was a warning—Treat Calla right. Baird’s was just as much of a warning—Get lost and stay out of Calla’s life.

Unruffled, Cearnach stood in the pew until he realized Elaine had backtracked and was now standing in a pew on the groom’s side. At first, Cearnach figured: What difference would it make where she sat as long as she stayed put? He tried to watch the wedding procession in progress, but two bachelor wolves standing in the pew in front of Elaine must have caught the scent of the new, intriguing lone she-wolf.

The Kilpatrick brothers moved from their pew and slipped around to the one she was standing in like a couple of wolves on the hunt. Everyone sat down and the brothers took their seats on either side of the American she-wolf, boxing her in and declaring their interest.

Cearnach growled low. The arrangement wasn’t acceptable at all.

Even though she was a wolf sitting in a church filled with people, he thought she looked small and vulnerable. Hell, he thought she looked sexy and vulnerable. That was the problem.

For a moment, all thoughts of Calla and her wedding fled from his mind as Cearnach swore under his breath. He watched the Kilpatrick brothers, cousins of the McKinleys, crowd her. He didn’t like the way they were declaring ownership of the she-wolf. Or the way she pulled her arms closer to her body, showing she didn’t like their close proximity. He was certain she didn’t want to make a scene by moving, though.

Intent on rescuing her, he rose from the bench, crossed the aisle, and stood by her pew where Robert Kilpatrick kept her blocked in.

Cearnach growled at Elaine in a low voice meant only for her ears, “Sit by me, now, lassie.” He hadn’t meant to sound so growly, but if she’d sat beside him in the beginning, he wouldn’t have to rescue her now.

Appearing innocent and sweet, as if any alpha she-wolf could who looked like she did, Elaine smiled up at him and mouthed the words, “No, thank you.”

The Kilpatrick brothers both patted their swords and grinned up at him as if to say, “Leave the lady alone.” They’d see to her needs.

Over his dead body. Cearnach took a deep breath. Ian would kill Cearnach himself if he learned Cearnach had started a sword fight in a church during a wedding ceremony over an American she-wolf he didn’t even know. Not that sword fights didn’t break out during wolf weddings from time to time. Usually they occurred over the bride, not a guest, though.

Annoyed to the max, Cearnach restrained himself from reaching over and hauling Elaine out of the pew. He waited as patiently as wolfishly possible for her to move on her own accord. Two more of the McKinley brothers, the younger ones, entered the church, arriving late to Calla’s wedding and surprising Cearnach.

They both smiled at him in such a sinister way that Cearnach figured they’d be up to something before long. They glanced at Elaine and raised their brows in wolfish speculation. They walked past him to join Baird McKinley’s two older brothers at the front of the church. Which also surprised him.

Elaine didn’t spare them a glance as she watched the wedding, ignoring Cearnach as he waited for her to comply with his request.

Not used to anyone saying no to him, he hesitated. Like his older brother, Ian, he was used to giving commands and having people respond quickly to do his bidding.

When she didn’t move, he grasped her arm and pulled her out of the seat, which meant her skirt brushed over Robert’s kilted lap and her bare leg touched his long legs as she couldn’t avoid them. Not surprisingly, he wouldn’t be a gentleman and stand up to allow her through. Robert Kilpatrick smiled broadly at her. Her face was either red with embarrassment or flushed with anger. Cearnach couldn’t tell.

Cearnach marched her across the aisle and sat her beside him in the empty last pew, this time blocking her in.

“Highland barbarian,” Elaine whispered, still frowning.

Cearnach crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment,” she said. “Why did you make me sit over here, anyway? I was perfectly fine where I was. I won’t have you dictating where I’ll sit. Not when you forced me to come here in the first place.”

So that was what this was about—showing off her alpha spirit. He could understand that. Alphas truly didn’t like to be dictated to. Certainly not by a stranger. He also wondered if she had a deeper reason for not wanting to sit next to him. A reason that had to do with their meeting in the past.

When he didn’t respond, she changed tactics, saying in a hushed voice, “Oh, I see. You sorely missed me.”

“Hardly.” He gave her a dark look, hiding the smile that was trying to surface. “I didn’t want you forgetting your duty in the event any of those,” he said, his voice couched low as he motioned toward the now disgruntled Kilpatrick brothers, who were watching them and not the wedding, “distracted you too much. Besides you didn’t look happy with the company you were keeping.”

She didn’t respond for several moments, which meant he’d thought right. Then she folded her arms and asked, “How long is this going to take?”

“Hours. We’ll attend the reception afterward.” He’d only meant to wish Calla well at the reception and leave, but something about Elaine made him want to prolong his being with her. He couldn’t fathom exactly why. Maybe deep down it bothered him she was in a strange country and hadn’t connected with whomever she was supposed to be meeting.

Yet…

Looking down at her, he seemed to recall he had tried to rescue her before. It wasn’t just a meeting that they had had. He just couldn’t remember when. Or why.

“No way. I’m not staying that long,” she whispered, tilting her head to the side with a pointed look. “Don’t you have any friends here who could give you a ride?”

“Not here.”

Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him. “Wait. You’re not a wedding crasher, are you? I’m not exactly what you’d call an invited guest either, you know.”

He shrugged. “I’m a friend of the bride’s. She did invite me. I doubt anyone else is happy to see me, though.”

She snorted. “Most likely not even her, right about now.”

He couldn’t help but give her a wry smile.

The minister again spoke, this time garnering Cearnach’s full attention. “Does anyone have an objection to the marriage?” The minister looked straight at Cearnach and Elaine, his voice elevated, sounding half annoyed with them.

Everyone in the congregation turned around to stare in the direction the minister was looking. A few of the men seated on the groom’s side had their hands on the hilts of their swords belted at their waists. The bride’s guests and family waited with bated breath.

Elaine finally prodded Cearnach in the ribs. Prodded him! A Highland warrior! He glared at her.

Frowning, she looked up at him. “Well?” she whispered, when he said nothing.

Everyone was so quiet that he heard a fly fluttering on the other side of the kirk.

When Cearnach didn’t say a word to either the minister’s question or Elaine’s prodding, two of McKinley’s older brothers stood, ready to do battle, and headed toward the back of the kirk, just to the place where Cearnach and Elaine were sitting.

The eldest one motioned with his thumb for Cearnach to leave.

Vardon.

The McKinley had never forgiven Cearnach for having kissed Vardon’s mate first. Vardon hadn’t even known the lass at the time. Apparently Cearnach’s kiss had made an impression on the lass, and she had shared what had gone on between them. Still, one kiss shouldn’t have mattered. Add that to the years of battles between their kin, and now with Cearnach being at Vardon’s brother’s wedding…

The problem had been that the lass’s kiss hadn’t done the same for Cearnach. He looked at Calla one last time as she stood so regally next to the groom. He decided she had made her choice, and that she knew he had come to see her wed as she’d asked. He could do no more, and not wanting Elaine involved in any kind of melee with the groom’s family, he motioned for her to leave the pew. “We’ll leave now, lass.”

“I thought you were staying for the reception.” She sounded surprised. Then she saw the two hulking Highlanders headed in their direction, and she moved so quickly that she started dragging Cearnach toward the door.

He hadn’t wanted to walk that fast, not when he was trying to show the McKinleys they weren’t chasing him off, but he didn’t want to frighten Elaine further by forcing her to slow her pace.

“Truce,” Cearnach mouthed to the brothers, intending to stop the fight that was bound to happen, but before he could leave the church, the bigger of the men stormed into Cearnach’s path.

Vardon McKinley. Of all the brothers, he was the most volatile.

He swung his massive fist at Cearnach’s face. Before Cearnach could push Elaine behind him and block the blow meant for him, she jumped in front of him, as if to protect him! Or at the very least, to stop the fight.

Vardon wasn’t able to pull back in time and hit Elaine in the face. Gasps in the church resounded.

Elaine’s head jerked back from the impact, and Cearnach saw red. She fell against him and cried out in shock and pain.

Roaring a string of oaths, Cearnach tucked Elaine under his left arm and unsheathed his sword with his right hand in one swift move.

“No!” Elaine shouted, struggling to free herself from his iron grip. “We’re leaving.” Her voice was clear and hard, as if she was in charge of the situation.

A she-wolf did not dictate combat rules to a Highland wolf who was ready to avenge her injury, no matter how alpha she was. Unable to quell the rage-induced adrenaline running through his blood and the need to pummel the Highlander who had struck an innocent woman, Cearnach couldn’t let it go.

Even though Vardon normally bowed down to no one, man or woman, he did appear a wee bit contrite. At least he hadn’t unsheathed his sword, and he had taken a couple of steps back, his face looking a bit pale.

“Get out of our way,” Elaine said to the McKinley brothers, her voice a fearsome growl.

Cearnach had to give her credit for thinking with her head and not with her heart. He was still ready to kill Vardon. But he couldn’t run him through if Vardon didn’t at least unsheathe his sword. And he did have to think of Elaine’s safety. He couldn’t keep her tucked under his arm and risk her getting injured if he encouraged Vardon to draw his weapon.

She sensed Cearnach’s indecision and tried to take a step forward, attempting to take charge of the situation. Cearnach wouldn’t let her drag him off. Not when he still wanted to destroy Vardon.

Vardon’s other brother, Hagan, waited to see what the eldest brother would do, standing beside him, looking unsure. In the past, what had happened wouldn’t have been a big deal for men like Vardon. If a woman got in the way of a man’s fist during a fight, the fault was her own. But Vardon had done so in a church at his own brother’s wedding, in front of onlookers who might not respect him for what he’d done.

Cearnach growled in Gaelic, “An honorable man doesn’t strike a woman. Be ready. This isn’t finished.”

Vardon sneered at him, speaking in Gaelic in return. “As you’ll soon learn. Take your whore with you and get out.”