"You may take your wife and one of your daughters and leave this place." Biel continued. "Or you can stay and do my bidding as your new master."

"I cannot leave without my entire family," Aengus argued. "I will leave but with my wife, both my daughters, and my nephew."

"Then you choose to remain." Biel glanced back at Cait. "And I will take one of your daughters as my woman."

"You cannot. You will not!" Aengus lunged but two of them grabbed him before he could get to Biel.

"I can and I most certainly will." Biel’s gaze dragged to Fiona. "But you may choose which."

"I will not choose," Aengus refused.

"Take her!" Rebekka suddenly pointed at Cait, pushing Fiona behind her. "Take her and we will leave this place." Cait stared at Rebekka. She’d known the woman had always resented the love Aengus had for his first wife, her mother, but until that moment she’d never felt unloved herself.

Fiona howled and pulled from her mother’s embrace running to Cait’s embrace. "No!"

"We will not leave. And I will not choose."

"Then you will die and your wife will make the choice in your stead." Biel unhooked an ax from his side.

"Me!" Cait stepped forward, despite Fiona’s wail, and waited until Biel turned to look back at her. "He chooses me. Leave him alone."

"No, Cait," Ewan argued.

"Cait," Aengus’ voice was defeated when Biel inclined his head and reattached his weapon.

"Take the rest of them to the tower and keep them there," Biel commanded and his men moved to do as he bid. Cait watched them as they were taken from the hall and up the stone stairwell. Fiona’s protests and Rebekka’s weeping quieted as they were taken farther into the belly of the castle, leaving an uneasy silence to bounce around the corners of the hall.

"It was a wise choice."

"Choice?!" Cait whirled to face their captor, leaping forward to assault him. Her fists beat upon the rough leather of his armor until his strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. But she would not settle. Instead she leaned forward and sank her teeth into his solid jaw. She heard him grunt moments before the coppery taste of him filled her mouth. She collapsed to her knees when he shoved her from him.

"Very good, Biel," one of his men, the largest built of the five, returned and called from the stairwell above them. "You succeed in beating upon a helpless woman the moment I turn my back." He began descending.

Cait smiled evilly when Biel lifted his hand to his jaw. She would show him just how helpless she could be. Jumping to her feet, she swiped the candelabrum from its place on the table against the wall and whirled, swinging it into his shoulder with a shout. She swung again. And a third time until he grabbed it and wrestled it from her.

Her gaze darted around for the next weapon but she didn’t move quickly enough and the Viking’s thick arm wrapped around her, trapping her hands at her sides. She yelled and kicked at him until he raised his hand. Closing her eyes, she waited for the blow that never came.

"If his men had nearly as much fight as his offspring, we would never have gotten past the gates."

"What happened to your face, brother? Did she bite you?" The man behind them drew near, but Cait didn’t look behind her. She knew the leader was the real threat. Her father had taught her much about men and war. Biel Vard was the core of the evil that had rained upon them.

"More beast than we," Biel murmured, shoving her away from him.

"The other girl and the mother are helpless and weak. The father took a crack at Boris. He is not feeble despite his age." The man’s fingers touched Cait’s arm and she jerked away, placing a few steps between her and the men.

"Neither am I. You will have to kill me before I allow you to touch me with your filthy body." She took several more steps backwards then turned and started to bolt.

"Then bring me her sister." Biel’s deep voice stopped her at the doorway. Cold fear slipped through her body. Fiona wasn’t like Cait. This hulking Viking would break her sister.

"Send them away from here and I will do as you wish," she countered without looking back.

"You are in no position to barter with me." Biel’s heavy step drew closer and then stopped behind her. When he spoke it was directly next to her ear, causing her to jump despite her attempts to appear unafraid of him.

"It is not that wisp of a sister that I want anyway. I’d rather it be you."

Cait balled her fists. "Why would you think I cared what you wanted? You and your dogs stormed my home and are ripping my family apart." She faced him slowly. "I am not stupid. I know what you mean to do and why you mean to do it. By wedding and bedding me it gives you more legal right to claim my home as your own. Is it not enough that you have forced your way in here? That you shall force yourself into me? Are you so weak you feel you cannot accomplish what you mean to do without sending my family away now?"

"Bring the vicar." Biel’s gaze never left Cait’s.

A few moments later a man in a robe was brought into the room. Biel reached forward, took her by the arm and walked back to the center of the room. He inclined his head as Cait jerked her arm from his grasp.

The next sound he made gave her chills. It was a deep growl that vibrated up from his chest and didn’t even sound human, more like a beast. She leaned closer and started when his eyes suddenly opened. They glowed yellow up at her and his large hand grasped her arm.

"Leave me." They were barely words, sounding like they’d been forced out between the growls. "Go." He released her arm and placed his hand on her chest and shoved her gently back. She staggered backward but her feet rooted to the floor when he yelled out in agony. The bones of his large face shifted, sounds of popping and cracking filling the room. Long black nails grew out from his fingers and hair began pushing up from his skin along his arms.

She held her breath as she watched the transformation continue over the span of several minutes. Right before her eyes, the wounded soldier became a beast, like the results of a wolf and human mating. In one swipe those nails tore away the bandage around his side and her eyes widened as the tender flesh around his wound reddened. He rose up and arched in pain as the wound closed itself, the flesh coming together until it became only a thin line of scar tissue. Then he fell back onto the blankets. His eyes closed and for a moment his body only shook. She started to step forward, and then halted when once again, his body changed before her very eyes. In minutes, he was again the man she’d helped from the battlefield, only scars now where his wounds were.

She moved backwards and sat down in the chair, staring at the man. Her husband had told her of men he’d known that carried the beast inside of them but she had never before, as far as she knew, met one. Now, she didn’t know what to think. Had she not seen it with her own eyes, she might not have believed it.

"’Tis hard for a blind woman to find her clothes in the dark."

She squeaked out a cry as she spun. There stood Robert Shelley, a torch in one hand, her dress in the other. He tilted his head, his gaze lowering down the length of her and then back up again. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but then let them drop to her sides. There was no telling how long he’d been there, watching her. He’d already seen her completely.

"Why are you still here? You rode away hours ago."

"We set up in these woods, deciding a good rest before we travel back to Dunham would strengthen our ride." He moved forward with a lazy step. "Ye will not attempt to cover your lies now?"

"What would be the point?" She held out her hand. "Might I have my dress back?"

"I’m thinking about it." He tossed the dress up so it fell over his arm and then cocked his hand on his hip. "Ye were very convincing. I very nearly believed ye."

Katie reached back and pulled her hair forward, squeezing the water from its length, then allowed it to remain over her shoulder, offering some coverage as it hung just over her breasts. She’d never kept her hair so long before she came to this time. But she found the men appreciated the length.

"You will not get your coin back." She half leaned, half sat on the boulder behind her, its hard, cool surface offering some comfort in the awkward situation she found herself in. "It should take twice the number of men you brought with you to pry it from Magda’s fingers."

"Then should I not receive something of truth for my generosity?" He arched a heavy eyebrow. "Or should I ride into the village and reveal your trickery?"

"What do you want?"

His gaze lowered to her breasts. "Ye are a very petite woman."

"And weak and simple and stupid, my laird," Katie added. Maybe she’d have a romp with the big border lord after all.

He grunted as his gaze rose. "Somehow I do not believe any of those to be true of ye."

"Shall I begin weeping, my laird, to prove it? Would you have me run through the woods so that you might hunt me down and have your way with me?" While he didn’t move closer, she could see her proposition did appeal to him.

"Mayhap you would rather I bite and scratch at you until you wrestle me to the ground?" She walked forward and stopped directly in front of him, but still he didn’t move.

"Is that what you expect from those who come for your counsel?"

She shrugged. "It’s what I know of men."

"Ah, the knowing again," he said sarcastically. "Then tell me, what am I thinking right now?"

"You want to fuck me." Katie grinned when his gaze narrowed. "Of course, it takes no real gift to know that." She reached forward and ran her hand over the front of his trousers to find his cock bulged and pressing out.

"How did ye know my face when you drew it? Ye didn’t once look at me." He reached down and grasped her wrist when she rubbed him, jerking her hand away. "Are ye employed by Edmund Rory?"

Katie rolled her eyes. "You sought me out, sire, not the other way around. You did not strike me as stupid. I’d never heard of either of you until today, when you came to our cottage and your man said his name."

"Then how could ye know why I was there and what I looked like?"

"It’s simple. Rory is not a Scottish name. It must be English. Therefore your troubles most likely involve the border between Scotland and England." She shook her head. "It took no real guesswork."

"And my face?"

Katie released a breath in exasperation. "A girl must keep some secrets. I have not denied our ruse. I have told you I will willingly allow you to fuck me. And I stand before you completely naked with nothing to hide behind. Must you ask for more?"

"How did ye know my face?" he repeated. "Ye will tell me, or I will return to your cottage and beat the crone, take my coin, and tell the villagers of your farce."

Katie gritted her back teeth together. "There is a tiny hole in the wall of the second room of our cottage. I merely looked out before your man knocked on the door, saw you were indeed the leader, and drew you from that glimpse. And now I’ve given you what you’ve asked for and tolerated your threats. Give me back my dress so that I might return to the cottage before Magda begins to worry I have drowned."

His fingers tightened on her wrist, indicating he wasn’t done with her yet. "I believe ye mentioned offering yourself to me."

"No, I said fuck. And now, I think not." She tried to pull away from him, but he held her. "Release me, sire."

"Ye think me one who would do as ye wish just because ye ask it of me?" He tilted his head.

"No, I think you should do as I wish because I command it. You had your chance but lost the opportunity when you threatened me." She lifted her chin. Despite this one’s cleanliness over the others, he was proving to be no less a brute. They always underestimated her.

"And if I do not release ye?"

She looked him right in the eyes. "I warn you only this once because you are a laird and not the usual blacksmith or farmer. I’m not a woman to trifle with."

"Now ye threaten me." He chuckled then. "It seems the only truth of ye I saw today is that sharp tongue."

"It wouldn’t be so sharp but rather very accommodating right now had you treated me better." She saw his gaze darken as he understood her meaning. "Perhaps the great laird of Dunham would do well to learn to think of what he has to lose before he sharpens his own tongue? Now release me, and it is the last time I will tell you to do so."

"The lesson will be yours tonight, wench." He jerked her forward. "To still that tongue when in the presence of those better than ye."

"My tongue is still when in presence of those better than I!" she shot back at him.

He drove the end of the torch into the ground. His free hand wrapped around her, cupped the back of her head, and in the next moment, his lips crushed hers. Katie’s first instinct was to kick him right between the legs, but she forgot her intentions when his tongue thrust between her lips, sweeping heat over her entire body and scattering her thoughts. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against her nipples when he released her wrist and slid his hand around her to jerk her against him. But he stilled when she reached up and kissed him back.