Beware of the wolves...

Chapter 5: Bound Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Shaking hands made it impossible to to pretend I was calm. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, watching Claude pull my hair away from my face in an array of complicated braids woven with ribbons, and of course, Mary's pearls. Blue eyes stared dully back at me and I forced myself to look away.

Mary herself stood beside me, guiding Claude in how my hair should look. Rouge had been used on my cheeks, giving my skin a flushed look. I'd never cared much for makeup, and I cared even less for it now, it felt heavy in my skin. Mary stepped away to look at my dress that lay on the bed and I took a moment to close my eyes and try to calm myself down.

Claude hummed happily as she finished tying back the last few locks of black hair. It wasn't a tune I recognised but it was one that I found myself quite drawn to.

"What is it you hum, Claude?" I asked, needing the distraction of conversation.

"Greensleeves, my lady" she replied softly, pushing another pin harshly into my hair, "A tune from England. It is said that King Henry wrote it himself for the Lady Anne Boleyn."

How romantic, I thought. Until I remembered that the Lady Anne had been beheaded by the very one who had thought himself so in love that he had to compose music for her. It wasn't something I wanted to think about on my own wedding day.

"All done." Claude announced, stepping back to admire her work.

Mary smiled from the bed, "You look beautiful. We should get you into your dress now before we make our way down to the hall."

I nodded, slowly pushing myself up from the chair. My marriage wasn't going to be in a church, which I found rather odd, but for whatever reason it had been decided, I was glad. I'd never felt comfortable in a church, I felt like I was cheating on my Gods. My mother had been married to my father in a church, but for her he had also done a handfasting in private to acknowledge her own beliefs. I wouldn't have the chance to honour my Gods without fear of Torian's reaction to such a petition.

The dress was slipped onto me and Claude tied the laces tight so that the bodice was almost like a second skin. My breasts were pushed up higher than I was used to, and they rose and fell with each breath I took. I felt exposed and embarrassed but nobody else seemed to think the low cut was inappropriate.

Nerves were building again. Butterflies flew violently around my stomach, causing me to feel as if I would be sick. I was suddenly aware of how tight the dress really was, it crushed my ribs and made it even more difficult to breathe. The room swayed and I reached out to hold the bed post to stop myself from falling.

"You're nervous." Mary observed, squeezing the hand that lay limp by my side, "I understand, but there is no need to be. The ceremony will be over before you know it and then you can eat, drink and dance with your new husband. You will enjoy yourself."

Nodding numbly, I took no relief in her words. Even after the ceremony, there was still the act of consummation to worry about. I tightened my hand around Mary's. Margaret was with her husband, probably already waiting in the hall, but I wished my dear friend was here with me instead. While Mary had been of great help to me, she didn't know me like Margaret did. I couldn't voice my fears so I held them bottled up inside.

Now all dressed up, I was finally ready to meet my groom at the alter.

"You are the perfect bride." Claude complimented, smiling brightly, "You will hold all the eyes of court."

I blushed, dropping my gaze to the floor. The eyes of court would be on me whether I looked beautiful or not; the daughter of a known witch marrying one of the richest heirs in Scotland. It was a scandal that nobody seemed to understand.

"Are you ready?" Mary asked, her eyes glistening with excitement.

No.

"I suppose I'd better be." I murmured.

I was lead down the many stairs towards the hall and suddenly nothing seemed real. As though I was in a dream, everything seemed hazy. My father stood by the huge doors and my arm was passed from Mary's to rest on his.

There was a pain in his eyes as he looked me over. I shifted nervously, wishing my father would give me some words of comfort. A tense smile was shared between us and he gave my hand a small squeeze.

"You look so much like her." He breathed out, and for a moment I wondered if it was really me he was seeing, or if it was my mother.

I wasn't sure what to say in answer.

With another gentle squeeze of my hand, the doors swung open. The murmur of many voices met my ears and I froze at the sight of the crowded hall and the many eyes that turned to stare at me.

My vision blurred again, and my breathing was so ragged that I was sure everyone would be able to hear it. There was no music as my father began to lead me down the aisle towards the man that would soon be my husband. I stared at Torian's back, using it to focus my vision on. Faltering a little, only kept moving by my father's confident steps, my vision blurred again.

Whispers and disapproving looks were hard to ignore.

"I can't do this."

"You can and you will." My father grit out, his grip on my arm becoming painful. There would be a bruise.

I hadn't even realised I'd spoken out loud and now I had voiced my uncertainty for anyone to hear. Before I could protest anymore, Torian was turning to meet me and my father placed my hand in his.

Torian gave me a smile, his grip on my hand strong and comforting.

"Ignore them." He whispered softly to me, "They do not matter, only we do. You have nothing to fear from me or my family."

I nodded, finding some strength in his words. He exuded an air of complete calm and surety. The heat of his hand sunk into me, soothing the restless part of me that had my legs aching to turn and run.

The priest stood before us in his distinguished robes of white and gold, his wrinkled face and weary eyes looking over me. I was sure the grip I had of Torian's hand must have been hurting him, my nails leaving crescent marks on his skin, but he didn't react. Deep breathing, taking in the woodland scent of the male next to me, the world drifted away.

The droning words of the priest met deaf ears. My entire being was focused on Torian and the calming vibes he seemed to be sending towards me. I was shaken as the other entity that seemed to reside in me lifted her head, telling me this was right, this was how it was meant to be. I found myself relaxing further, even as it terrified me that I had grown accustomed to this feral part of myself. At least she came when I needed her.

A rumbling sound had my head tilting, my eyes flicking to Torian who had stiffened slightly. Fiery hazel eyes met the stormy blue of mine and I was completely lost to them. He was drawing me in with secret promises of mystery and adventure. I knew that nothing in my life would be the same.

There was something strangely familiar about those eyes, I had seen their blaze in something else but just as realisation was sure to come, the priest called for our attention once more. Our bond was broken.

"Torian Lyall, will you take Máili MacDhòmhnaill to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?" The priest bellowed, making me cringe.

"I will." Torian answered confidently, loud enough for the whole hall to hear.

The priest looked at me now and I could feel myself slumping in as the ties to my family were broken to be replaced with the Lyall's.

"Máili MacDhòmhnaill, will you take Torian Lyall to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

Shaking, catching my father's glare as he watched me stumble, my voice came out far less confident than Torian's had been, "I will."

And just like that, Torian and I were bound.

The hall was bustling with people. Dancers laughed and slipped around the centre of the hall to the fiddles that played old songs. Eyes were always on us and I couldn't pretend not to hear the whispered words, nor ignore the glares and suspicious looks thrown towards me. I hated sitting at the head table. The Queen was sat in the centre and Torian and I were by her side. Our Queen was kept amused by whatever stories my husband told her, her laughter ringing out.

It was hard to believe she was a handful of years younger than I, especially as she held herself with so much more poise and maturity.

I sat sullen and silent, drowning amid the chaos of the room. There was too many people, too much noise, too many scents, and it was overwhelming. My hand tightened painfully around the goblet I held, my knuckles turning white. The wine sloshed about, daring me to drink more until I felt the buzz of a drunken stupour that would be sure to dull the torrent of emotions.

"Are you not enjoying yourself, Lady Máili?" My Queen asked, leaning forward so she could see around my hulking husband and to where my small form sat in his shadow.

I forced a smile, "I am, your Majesty, very much so."

"My new wife is merely overwhelmed by all the grandeur, your Majesty." Torian spoke for me, giving the young woman a charming smile.

Mary smiled back, nodding as she looked around the room, "It is quite spectacular. You should take your wife onto the floor to dance, Lord Torian, so she may enjoy it better."

My heart lurched. Torian grinned and offered me his hand, standing slowly.

"Come, wife." He ordered gently, tugging my hand.

I gave him a desperate look, wishing for anything but to be paraded around the room.

"I must admit that I am not a good dancer. I would hate to embarrass you." I protested, hoping he would understand my fear.

He chuckled, pulling me to my feet, "It is quite alright, I am not one for dancing either, but we must appease the court. It is unseemly for the wedded couple to be sat at the table all evening."

He led me down the raised platform to the floor and couples parted to let us through. My teeth were almost chattering together from the nerves that racked through my body.

"Relax, Máili." Torian whispered by my ear, "I won't let you make a fool of yourself."

I laughed, at least I tried to but it came out more of a terrified bark. We joined the line of couples and the music gently started up. I knew the dance, I'd been taught it, but it felt different doing it with Torian than it had with my tutor. Curtseying low, I couldn't keep my eyes off of his, they seemed to glow under the light of hundreds of candles, the honey tones of amber mixing with the deep forest green flecks.

My hand lifted, my palm pressed against my husband's. A spark of electricity between us and once more the world was just background noise. The steps were simple enough that I didn't have to worry about stepping on toes or stumbling, but I was sure next to all these fine ladies, I had the grace of a drunkard. Torian kept me right, leading me fluidly through the movements as though he was born knowing them.

He had either lied about his skills as a dancer or he was a modest man, and that I found hard to believe.

My confidence grew as the music quickened and I allowed myself to smile and enjoy it. Torian's lips quirked into the smallest of amused smiles, and even if it was amusement at my expense, I did not care, because it was the first time I had seen such a real smile on his face. It was the best gift I had been given today and it allowed me to believe that Margaret had been right, I might be able to find some companionship, even friendship, in him.

With the final beat of the music, I curtsied again, my cheeks flushed from exertion.

"That wasn't so bad now was it, wife?" Torian asked teasingly, leading me to the side.

My heart stuttered at the word. Wife, I was someone's wife.

I grinned at him and shook my head, "It wasn't. I rather enjoyed myself, thank you...husband."

He smiled again. He had a beautiful smile, one that was hard not to smile with.

"I have to ask for your forgiveness, however, for I do not think I have told you how beautiful you look tonight." He complimented, kissing the back of my hand.

My skin flushed a deep red and my tongue was suddenly heavy in my mouth as I tried to come up with an appropriate reply. I wondered if he truly did find me beautiful. I was saved from my embarrassment by Lord Lyall who practically bounced towards us with a grin.

"Finally, I have my son and my new daughter-in-law alone." He beamed, his hand going to his son's shoulder.

I bobbed a curtsey in greeting, finding his joy contagious. He pulled me into a surprising hug before pulling back with his hands resting on my shoulders.

"I am very pleased to welcome you into our family, dear Máili. My wife and the rest of my children and family are very excited to meet you when we return home. Whatever needs and wants you may have, do not hesitate to ask. We shall take care of you and protect you, you are our family now." He announced, bowing his head to me, "And you can call me Alsander now...or father if it pleases you."

His hand slid down to give my arm a squeeze and I flinched, a small whimper slipping from my lips as his fingers pressed against the bruise my father's grip had left behind. Both Torian and his father frowned at me.

"Are you hurt, my Lady?" Torian asked, stepping closer to me.

My eyes flicked to where my father stood drunkenly against the wall, the drink in his goblet sloshing messily as he swayed on the spot. Lord Lyall's eyes followed mine and I quickly put on a bright smile.

"I must have bashed my arm at some point." I replied lightly.

Neither men seemed to believe my words. Lord Lyall continued to stare at my father for a moment with a terrifying look in his eyes before he gently pushed me towards my husband.

"I think it is time you took your new bride to bed, my son. She will need a good rest in preparation for our journey home tomorrow." Lord Lyall advised.

Torian nodded, taking my hand in his. I wanted to protest but there was something about the power behind Lord Lyall's words that made me pause. I didn't think he was one to argue with.

Cheers erupted around the room as they saw Torian lead me out of the room. Crude words and gestures were thrown around, making me blush a bright red. I knew what came next, I knew what would happen when we reached Torian's bedchamber, and once again anxiety rushed through me. Doing my best to remain calm, keeping my hold of Torian's arm gentle so as not to give away my fear, I followed him up the stairs to a much grander set of rooms than my father and I had been given.

Claude and another servant I didn't recognise stood by the end of the bed, giving us both a curtsey. Torian began undressing and I flinched, turning my back to him. Claude stepped up behind me, quickly untying the laces of my dress, letting it pool at my feet so I was left standing in my white shift. I was very aware of how little it left to the imagination and my fingers tugged nervously at the lacy cuffs.

"You are dismissed." Torian spoke to the servants who scurried out and closed the door.

I didn't miss the giggle they shared nor the looks they gave my husband who was still standing out of view. Slowly turning, my heart hammering in my chest, I took in the sight of what was now mine. Torian stood bare chested and majestic in the light of flickering candles. His body was lined with muscle and sun kissed in a way that held a soft glow. I looked like a ghost next to him, or a small porcelain doll.

"Why don't you sit, wife. Have a little food and pour yourself a drink. I will make sure there is enough wood to keep the fire going all night for you." He said softly, heading for the fire that was dimming as wood turned to ash.

I sat on the bed, staring at the platter of fruits and meats that had my stomach churning. There was only wine on offer to drink, and I knew I had already had plenty of that, I wanted to keep my wits about me. All that was left to do was try and take deep breaths and pretend every exhale didn't leave with a shake, that my hands weren't trembling where they rested on my lap, that my heart didn't feel like it was about to burst from my chest and lie bleeding on the floor.

"You can relax, wife, I will not touch you tonight." Torian assured me, standing and turning to look at me.

I frowned, confused, "You do not want to...lie with me?"

He chuckled, his gaze raking over me and something in his eyes had heat flooding through my body, "Not tonight, nor any night soon. Things have to be done in the ways of my Clan and I cannot have you until then. Make no mistake though, I have thought about having you tonight in many ways, but it is against the laws of my people. Tonight was for show, for the people at court. I know that the Christian ceremony held no real meaning for you, as it held no real meaning for me. You may be my wife in the eyes of court, but you are not mine, not yet. Soon."

A deeper frown lined my face. It wasn't exactly disappointment I felt, nor was it really relief, but I couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Nothing he had said made any sense to me. Was he insinuating that he knew I held belief in different Gods, in different traditions and that he too held these beliefs? My mind tumbled over every word he had spoken to me, looking for clues to answer the many questions I had.

"Sleep, my wife. I will have servants draw a bath for you in the morning and pack your things. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. Make time to say your goodbyes." He ordered, heading for the door.

"Wait!" I cried, jumping up from the bed, reaching out for him only to snatch my hand back before my skin could touch his.

He didn't turn towards me but paused with his hand on the door handle, his head tipping slightly. I staggered back slightly.

"I don't understand, Torian."

His eyes closed as I murmured his name, my voice full of uncertainty and fear. A small smile tugged at his lip, his hazel eyes meeting mine. There was sympathy in their depths, and so many secrets.

"You will understand in time." He promised, "Now sleep."

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