Page 4 of His Stubborn Mate

I forced my claws to retract as I ripped my hands from the bar, stumbling back at this latest blasphemy. My stomach roiled in disgust, but the male continued to speak.

“She’ll come crawling back soon, don’t you doubt it. A bitch like that can’t survive without a man’s strength, aye?” He winked at me. “Your shoulders tell me you’re used to being the biggest man in town and used to getting your way. Well, I might not be the strongest, but I am the most clever, and I know Cataline. If she’s not here before the first snow, begging me for protection, she will be after the storm clears.”

He busied himself behind the bar, and to my surprise, when I exhaled I felt calm. My Kteer no longer snarled in anger and I forced myself to quiet my mind and reactions and consider it.

John was right, damn him. I was used to being the strongest male in my village. That, combined with my skill with a blade, was why I was the leader of our warriors. My brother valued my skills and leadership…and more than one enemy had pissed himself in fear when he’d beheld my scars and fierce bellow.

But I had never used that strength against those weaker than me, never sought violence when ‘twas not necessary. I wasn’t some beast, to mindlessly charge at an enemy or take advantage of a female.

So why was I at peace now?

Because he doesnae ken Cataline.

The realization not only caused my lips to curl, but a quiet snort to escape.

Nay, if he thought she would come begging, he didn’t know her at all. John wasn’t nearly as clever as he thought.

My Cataline was stubborn and determined and would protect her son any way she knew how. And if she wanted to stay in an ill-prepared crofter’s home all winter, I had no doubt she could do it.

But what of the bairn?

Aye, she carried a child, and such a thing could weaken a female, even a stubborn firebrand like Cataline.

My expression faded to a scowl and I glanced toward the front of the tavern.

Eastward, ten miles toward the mountains.

Nay, she wouldn’t come begging John for help or protection…even if she needed it desperately. Did she have no one to look out for her?

As the other male finished his work, I closed my eyes on a sigh, remembering what little Cataline had told me of her life all those months ago. She’d been widowed when wee Ewan was only a few years old and I’d had the impression her husband had been a well-intentioned but incompetent laborer. She’d moved to town after his death and took in washing and worked in John’s tavern to keep her and her son fed.

And, apparently, accepted males into her bed, since she was with child.

If she’d had any family remaining besides her son, she wouldn’t have needed to accept the judgement and humiliation that came from such a situation. What kind of community forced a female into that by not offering her help, and then punished her for it?

I would never understand humans.

I was already backing toward the door, pulling the hood of my cloak up to cover my scars again. John turned, holding the remaining candle cupped in his hands, and seemed surprised to find me halfway to the door.

“You’re not going to bed down in the store room?”

Last time I was here, he’d offered me a damp corner of the cold room, as if I wasn’t worth the hospitality. Unlike Cataline, who’d laughed at my gentle teasing, kissed me like she didn’t see my scars, and came apart in my arms with a look of utmost wonder.

Cataline had accepted me and gifted me joy, which was more than this male had ever offered.

I would do what I could to repay that now.

With a scowl he couldn’t see from my shadowed face, I turned in a swirl of my cloak and stomped toward the door, yanking it open. I didn’t give him the politeness of a farewell—I owed him naught.

Besides, Cataline needed me.

CHAPTER TWO

Cataline

I grunted as the ax split the log into two smaller pieces, feeling proud of myself even before Ewan’s cheer.

“You did it, Mama! Do it again!”