Kelvin's lips drew back from his teeth angrily, but Andrew continued. "That Pookah you stand next to has murdered our brethren. Killed-"

"Enough!" Kelvin bellowed, raising his sword.

Breath stuck in her throat as she tried to inhale. No, she wouldn't believe it. She turned to her Pookah again. "Kelvin?"

She swallowed hard and a thick heat bubbled in her gut. "It's not true... tell them it's not true." Her pleading voice broke. "Tell me it's not true."

"I can no', lass. I will no' lie ta you again, but I would never hurt you."

Her heart felt like it was pumping dry ice through her body, recalling what he had also told her when she'd released him from his vow, watched the brand on his wrist disappear.

"You didn't hurt me," she whispered. "You destroyed me."

His eyes were smoldering, lashes misted wet. His brow creased, holding her gaze, but he didn't say a word.

His silence stung like a hard slap to the face. She winced, pain assailing her as if he'd just reached out and ripped the heart from her chest. The blood must have left her face, because suddenly she felt dizzy, cold. She stepped toward Andrew.

Kelvin lunged for her, but the Fionn was quick to raise his blade to Kelvin's neck. The other Fionns dismounted, drawing their swords, readying to fight, but Kelvin only gnashed his teeth.

"You think the lot o' ya can keep me from her?" He looked straight at Andrew. "Honestly, Thompson, I'm insulted you brought only four."

She saw a muscle tick in Andrew's jaw and his gray eyes narrowed. The Pookah had obviously hit a chord. Seeing Kelvin's obvious reaction to her, Andrew sneered and played on his emotions. "You may hurt her, even kill her fighting for her. Not that her life was ever a concern of yours."

"I will always fight for her!" Kelvin hissed in a venomous rage.

"No!" Izel was shocked to hear the strangled cry came from her own mouth.

What had just happened? In a matter of seconds, she had gone from loving- Loving?

She choked on a sob. As if she even knew what love was. God knew the Pookah certainly didn't.

"Lass, I did no'-"

"Don't." Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. She looked at him, and something in her expression must have registered with Kelvin, because he stepped away from her, raking his nails over his chest, as if she were hurting him.

The Pookah had stormed into her life, weapons drawn, and that's how he would exit it. She met his gaze, her vision going blurry, longing for the day she'd met him, his blade at her throat. "I wish I'd been so lucky for your sword to finish what it started when I met you."

When she stood next to Andrew, Kelvin seemed to snap out of his thoughts and charge. But Andrew threw a sparkly dust in front of him and Kelvin dropped to his knees. Between gritted teeth he snarled. "Sleeping powder? What a coward you are. Can you no' fight me yourself?"

The muscles in the Pookah's chest tensed, obviously fighting against the effects of the powder. Before she was able to process the scene, Andrew scooped her up and placed her on his horse. The Fionns behind him mounted as well.

"I wish I could stay, but I have to be getting back. We have company waiting." He hopped behind her on the large steed and pulled on the reins. "A sweet little Poet just came into the keeping of a Wolverine for a pet."

Izel watched Kelvin's heavy lids shoot wide, as if some kind of realization hit him. "You... will pay... for this... Thompson," he grated before turning his stare to her. He jutted his chin up. "Sunrise."

She watched yellow rays break over the horizon. Looking back at Kelvin, she felt his blue gaze bore into hers, and he whispered, "You..." Eyes sliding closed, his big body crashed backward, succumbing to unconsciousness.

Chapter 22.

The trek to the Campbell castle-rather, her castle-was awful. Bumping along atop an oversized horse, Izel barely clung to Andrew's shirt as she gazed off into the distance. She glanced down at her chest, surprised, yet again, to see no gaping hole. Odd, because it felt as though the Pookah had plunged his fist through her skin and torn the beating heart from between her ribs.

She'd been so stupid. Her eyes burned with tears. She wanted to cry. Needed to. But instead, she jostled around before Andrew, trying to zone out. Her mind simply couldn't handle any more.

Obviously the question of whether she was Kelvin's mate had been answered loud and clear. Typically one did not hate and want to torture their mate. She may be naive, but she was pretty certain that wasn't the way of things.

It had been dark, he'd needed to have sex with someone, and Izel was the closest thing with two legs, she rationalized. Everything else he'd said was a lie. A front. She had to give him credit; the Pookah had had her believing it.

Once Kelvin passed out, Andrew wanted to either kill him or take him prisoner, but Izel wouldn't allow it. Shaking her head, she ordered that he be left alone. Something in her eyes must have spoken volumes beyond her words because no one fought her decision.

Dead or alive, Izel refused to hold the Pookah's life in her hands the way he had held hers. She didn't have the heart, literally, to have him killed, but she also knew she could never face him again.

"How long will he sleep?" she asked over the sound of clomping hooves.

Andrew shrugged. "Hour or two." The horse was picking up speed, forcing her to cling a little tighter to the saddle. Although Andrew's body was warm and smelled good, it was nothing like the heat and spicy scent of her Pookah.

No. He's not mine.

Tears almost escaped, but she willed them back once more. Not only did she have to figure out a way to shrug off this betrayal, but she also had to piece together her nearly nonexistent pride.

Literally after she'd just rolled out of bed with Kelvin, various members of her clan had witnessed firsthand what a disgrace she was. A short breath escaped her throat. She didn't even want to know what her grandfather would think.

"Once we clear the brush, we'll have a straight shot. Maybe twenty minutes to the castle."

She nodded, looking out at the forest as they passed. She replayed everything that had been said. She was to be chief of the clan, but she didn't know the first thing about being a leader. Her only hope for guidance was from her grandfather, and she wasn't sure if he was dead or alive. And the shot she'd had at speaking with the witch Ryo at the Kerr castle was gone. She'd have to find another way. She had to find Euan and help him. Because not only did she miss him, she didn't think she'd be much good as a leader. How useful was a depressed human with a broken heart?

Something else occurred to her. "You hold a Wolverine Pookah prisoner?" she asked.

"Yes. About a week ago, a Poet Fionn from the States unknowingly lured him right to us," Andrew replied. After a moment he added, "We've been on your trail for the last few days but kept losing your scent."

Just as they cleared the trees, he spurred the horse and the animal leapt into a full gallop. The Fionn's encasing arms tightened around her sides. She couldn't help thinking once more, He smells nothing like Kelvin.

The ride onto the property took just a few minutes. Soon Izel stared down at the Campbell clan stronghold. Although the castle was beautiful and masterfully modernized, she hardly noticed the lavish interior of what she would now be calling home once they'd entered. Desperate to be alone, she asked to be shown straight to her quarters so she could retire and lick her wounds in private. Andrew escorted her up a polished staircase and down a long hallway, stopping at a set of French doors.

The gold knobs glinted in the light as Andrew twisted them, swinging the doors open wide. The room-more a suite of rooms, really-was gorgeous. The large bed was covered in deep purple silks, and Izel wanted to run and hide under the covers. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings, taking in a massive walk-in closet, nook, and adjacent bathroom.

"I'll leave you to rest."

"Andrew?" Doorknob in his grip, he stopped at the door and turned to look at her. "You... intend to marry me?"

Expressionless, he muttered, "It is my obligation." Giving her a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he left, latching the door behind him.

Bile threatened to rise to her throat and a jolting chill rolled down her spine. How quickly things had changed in a few short hours. She'd gone from being a hopeful human with a sense of security to the disregarded fool who fell for lies, forced to stand in humiliation while an audience of her clan members viewed the withering of her soul.

She was done trusting. Done feeling. She would do her duty as Euan had originally instructed. It was, after all, the least she could do. She would be a locked-up mortal with no desire for freedom. She would simply exist. Just as she had been before that glamour had worn off.

Turning on the tub faucet, she watched the large bathtub fill with steaming water. She removed her-his-shirt. It was then that the first tear of what would be many fell. She could still smell him on her. Between her legs she was still wet with his seed. A strangled breath broke from her throat as she yanked thick curtains closed, shutting out the early afternoon sunlight coming through the window.

Never had she been so desperate to disappear.

"Where in the bloody hell have you been!" Ian yelled, bursting through the double doors of Kelvin's chambers. "And why do you no' have the human? And how-"

Kelvin shot his brother an evil glare, causing him to cut short his rant.

There must have been something menacing behind his eyes because Ian held up his palms, easing toward him. "Talk ta me, brother." Ian sat down beside him on the bed. Hunched over, elbows on his knees, cupping a glass of scotch, Kelvin shook his head.

"I lost her." He threw back his head, swallowing the liquor in one gulp.

"It's all right." Ian slapped his shoulder. "Though the human is technically chief by right, once she marries Thompson, he'll most likely-"

"She will no' be marrying that sodding, fucking bawbag!" He slammed to his feet, chucking his glass at the fireplace, shattering it instantly. He paced the room.

I am a caged beast.

His woman was gone. He had failed her.

He vaguely perceived Ian talking at him, but all Kelvin could think of were her eyes. He replayed that gut-wrenching, horrible moment when her trusting green gaze had looked up at him, begging him to deny the truth. Deny that he had deceived her from the moment he saw her. That look was going to haunt his dreams for the rest of his poor excuse of an immortal life.

"... Alistair just checked in."

Kelvin's eyes shot to Ian. "What did you say?"

"I said, Alistair called. He's fine."

"How can that be? Thompson himself told me they had him. Right before he threw sleeping dust on me like the little bitch that he is!" His rage redoubled. Yes, he was glad his cousin was free from the Campbells, but the mere thought of Andrew Thompson made Kelvin's blood boil.

"Aye, they did have him. Seems the skirt that got him caught is the same one who freed him."

Ah, Alistair, always the ladies' man. "So where is he now?"

"He did no' give me specifics. Only that he will be gone for a couple of weeks," Ian grinned, as if replaying the phone call in his head. "He's out seeking retribution from the female who imprisoned him."

Kelvin just waved his hand. Great, the Wolf was fine, but frankly, he was too busy wallowing in grief and devising a plan to get Izel back to care about Alistair's affairs. Ian seemed to pick up on his mood, because he changed the subject. "I need some answers, Kel."

His pace quickened. If he could only talk to Izel, just for a moment.

"Thompson threw the dust and that's when they took the human?"

Christ, was Ian still talking? Kelvin stretched his neck side to side and twisted his shoulders. Just the mention of "the human" built his fury.

"Did she at least tell you any more about her prophecy? Like when she would come into those powers? Her worth and skill are said ta be-"

"Her worth and skill are none of your concern," he snarled.

"Jesus, Kel! What the hell is the matter with you? You're acting as if-" Ian's eyes went wide, and Kelvin knew realization had hit home.

He ceased his strides and looked his brother, his chief, dead in the eye. "She is my female."

Ian stood, stare locked on him, but Kelvin continued. "And our dispute with the Campbell clan is put on hold. I can no' and will no' take up arms against my female or her people."

Except for maybe Andrew Thompson.

Ian's mouth hung open, and he was silent.

Kelvin jutted his chin in the air. He was not ashamed. His woman was strong and beautiful and he felt nothing but pride to call her his. To deny her is to deny my lungs of breath, he thought, and it was true.

At any moment, he expected Ian would start in. Scolding, yelling about his sense of honor, and reminding him of his duty to the clan-of vengeance against the Campbell Fionns. Every molecule of his being was about to be called into question by his brother. The last thousand years he had lived for honor, glory, and war, but now everything he'd previously deemed purposeful he happily tossed out the window.

I will live as a dishonored outcast, shaming my clan, my father's memory, and my brother... if it means I get ta hold my female.

Ian's jaw clenched. Here it came, the ass-chewing of a lifetime.

"Okay, Kelvin." Was his voice actually sincere? He looked at Ian, confused as hell. "Believe it or not, I understand. One can no' act against their mate. No matter the circumstances." Shaking his head, he looked at Kelvin. " 'Tis no' in our nature. We simply canna deny them."

Jesus Christ, Ian's tone held legitimate empathy! Kelvin didn't know whether to question him, or just let the miracle of his understanding play to his advantage and take the win. Ian's remark had lifted a weight Kelvin hadn't realized he was carrying. Had his brother said anything different, forced his hand and made him choose, he would have chosen Izel. And always would.

When he had awakened in the grass with the sun on his face, the first thing to flash through his wasted mind was Izel's bright, emerald eyes. And it was then he realized that it wasn't oxygen he needed but her scent. She was everything he craved, everything he hungered for. Her body was his personal fixation. Her skin and lips were drugs he had to taste in order to survive. Desperation coursed through him and would continue to do so until he was back with her... inside of her.

"I assume you messed up pretty badly," Ian said, snapping Kelvin from his self-loathing. He shot his brother a menacing look. "Ya need ta be smart about this. All final orders would have ta come from her." He clasped his hands behind his back, brows drawn with thought. "Do you think she'd wage a battle against us? A surprise attack?"

"No," Kelvin answered honestly.

"A woman's scorn is something ta fear, brother." Did Ian just shudder?

"Na," he said, a small bit of confidence radiating. "I awoke with my head upon my shoulders." A smile threatened his lips. Andrew Thompson would have undoubtedly killed him. At the very least taken him prisoner. Izel was obviously the one who had spared his life, so she must still care about him.

"Maybe she just does no' ever want ta see you again. Just because the lass didn't have the heart ta kill ya while you lay unconscious, does no' mean much." Ian seemed to read his mind and unknowingly crushed Kelvin's one tiny glimmer of hope.

He stabbed fingers through his hair. "Mayhap. But the lass does no' have a choice. She is mine, and she will be seeing o' lot of me." He looked at Ian. "I'm going ta get her."

Ian's jaw jutted out. "What was that? Brother, you must have hit your head while taking your little nap, because you're talking nonsense."

"It's no' that hard ta understand. I'm going to get my female."

"Kelvin, she's probably inside the Campbell walls by now. Surrounded by a fleet of guards, no' ta mention Thompson."

"Do not mention that sod! Izel is mine, not his! I do no' give a fuck about the Fionn or the betrothal."

"Look." Ian held his palms out again, obviously trying to calm him. "All I'm saying is, think. You can no' just walk up and ring the bell. And it was you who expressed unwillingness ta battle her people. I do no' see how you'll-"

"I'll turn myself over." Perfect! Why had it taken him this long to think of it?