But he couldn’t say that. First, because the curse would never let a single word cross his tongue. And second, because they weren’t at that place yet. She would think him crazy for ordering her around. And he’d think he was crazy for trying to influence her decisions. Then, everything would be shattered because he didn’t trust her enough to let her make her own choices.
Donnacha tried to smile through the snarl on his face. “Good. Then you’ll be expecting her.”
“Is she staying long?”
“The castle won’t let her.” It likely wouldn’t even let her through the front door, but that was something he’d have to fix.
Unless…
Footsteps echoed on the ice behind him, crunching as only a human’s feet could do. Scáthach’s voice interrupted them, strong and powerful like a sword slicing through the air. “I believe the castle welcomed me in just fine.”
He looked over his shoulder with equal parts anticipation and dread. “Scáthach. I had a feeling you’d be joining us today.”
“Considering you’ve kept her away for months, I think it’s only my right.”
What right did she have to Elva? He wanted to remind her that she’d thrown this woman away to the bears. Quite literally. She had no claim on Elva or Elva’s life.
Then again, neither did he.
Donnacha wanted to stay. He wanted to be part of this conversation, if only to defend himself because Scáthach certainly had nothing good to say about him.
He could see the anger in her gaze. The way she watched her pupil with calculating eyes. Clearly, she had words to say to Elva and he wouldn’t like a single one.
But it wasn’t his place. He didn’t have any right to guide Elva’s thoughts in one direction or another.
Donnacha took a step back and bowed his head. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”
“Thank you,” Scáthach called out.
“You have until the sun sets,” he replied, trying his best not to growl the words. “Then she’s mine.”
11
Elva watched the bear leave, brows furrowed in confusion. Why was he letting Scáthach stay here?
He had made it very clear he wasn’t interested in having anyone remain in his homeland. Not without his permission and most definitely not if he didn’t trust them. So why was he letting the most fabled female warrior of all time linger? Without anyone to watch over her?
Scáthach meandered away from Elva’s side, looking up at the icy towers around them. “So, this is where the fabled cursed bear lives.”
For all that Elva had learned in the human realm, Scáthach was still the woman who had pulled her out of a very difficult time. Elva respected the woman more than she respected her own mother.
She cleared her throat and made certain the sword at her hip was secured before answering. “It is.”
“Not what I thought it would look like.”
“Really?” Elva tried to remember the theories about this place. Had people said it was filled with monsters? She couldn’t really remember. There was something dangerous about the bear, she remembered that part. But she hadn’t ever heard what people thought his home looked like.
“I’ve always thought it would be a little more masculine. Not quite so…” Scáthach reached out and touched a hand to the ice of the tower. It came away slick. “Feminine.”
Elva had never thought of it that way before, but her mentor was right. This place was decidedly feminine. A man wouldn’t have chosen to live in ice carved so delicately that it looked like a piece of art every way a person turned.
Was this another clue? Could she use this to guess who had cursed Donnacha?
She nodded. “I haven’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. This place doesn’t appear to have been built by a man.”
Her mentor turned and cast a disapproving look at her. “You’re supposed to be considering all the options here, Elva. That’s why I sent you all this way.”
She was supposed to, yes. Of course, she remembered her purpose. It was just…difficult when there was so much else happening.
Her nights were filled with him, the man who had somehow been hidden beneath the fur and mass of a bear. The mystery of this place was connected to him, she was certain of it, as well as the story of the bear and perceived threat to Scáthach’s people.
They weren’t her people, Elva realized. How could she feel a connection to people who were so angry? Scáthach had amassed all the angry women in the world and collected them in one place, only to send them off on their own lives once she was done with them. That wasn’t a clan. It wasn’t a group of family or sisters. It was just angry women, hoping to save their souls by learning how to punish those who had hurt them.
Maybe Donnacha was right. Maybe violence wasn’t the only way to fix the way she felt.
Scáthach watched her with a calculating gaze. “Come, child. Sit with me and tell me everything.”
She followed her mentor to the bench and sat down next to the woman. For all that she was a dangerous person, Elva still believed the fabled warrior meant well. Scáthach wasn’t the kind of woman trying to make an army of others. She wasn’t leading these women down the wrong path knowingly.
In the end, Scáthach was human. She didn’t have the centuries of life Elva did, nor did she have immortality on her shoulders. Death would come for her as it had come for all others in her lineage.
Perhaps death was what made humans so blind to the rest of the world. They focused on themselves entirely, making their life happy for themselves because there was always the inevitable that they wouldn’t have much time left.
Elva blew out a breath and expelled the story in the next. She held nothing back. Every detail
