Read By the Light of the Scottish Moon - Unrated (My Kilted Wolf, #1) for Free Online Page B

while the pack remained silent and then I lunged, ripping out his throat before he knew what’d happened. I fell next to my sister’s body fully expecting to die.
    “With blood pouring from his gaping wound, Ranulf turned to finish me. That’s when the pack finally responded, jumping on him as one unit. In a matter of seconds, our great Ceannard was dead.” Bryn paused, adding with regret, “Unfortunately, I did not die with him.”
    Freya stiffened in his arms as another, more intense spasm took over. It was so severe she nearly blacked out from the pain. Through it, Bryn murmured words of comfort. Once passed, she asked with great effort, “Tell me what happened after Ranulf died.”
    “My pack tended to my wounds when normally they would have put me out of my misery. I don’t know why, death would have been a welcomed gift. When it was determined I had healed enough to lead, they made me Ceannard.”
    “The chief among your people?”
    “Aye. They meant it as an honor, but I see it only as punishment. I’m bound to protect them and cannae give in to the call of death, no matter how sweetly she sings.” He looked down at her tenderly. “The truth is I envy ye tonight, and would join ye if I could.”
    She closed her eyes. “Bryn…”
    “Aye, lass?”
    “Could you save me?”
    He growled, pulling away from her. “Ye cannae know what ye ask!”
    She opened her eyes. “But you can, can’t you?”
    He left the bed, pacing the room like a crazed animal.
    Freya held out her hand to him, begging, “Please don’t leave me…”
    He stared at her from across the room, refusing to budge until another spasm wracked her body. He returned to her then, holding her tight as she trembled in his arms.
    “Freya, ye must understand that it would be crueler fer me to save ye than to let ye die.”
    She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t agree.”
    Bryn took her face in both his hands and forced her to stare into his foreign, dangerous eyes. “Yes, I can save ye, but the solution would be worse than the dying. This life is not fer ye and the process of the transformation itself is violent.”
    “Tell me how you do it, please.”
    “To experience the Athrú , I would have to kill ye. A bite alone would not cause the transformation. Athrú requires yer heart to stop beating as I bite. It is only in death a werewolf can emerge.”
    “That doesn’t scare me, Bryn. I’m already dead.”
    He lifted her chin, and chided gently, “Ye only seek escape from it because yer frightened right now.”
    “No…” She laughed through her tears, certain she was seeing everything clearly for the first time. “Ever since my death sentence was given to me a month ago, I believed I was coming home to die, but now I know that’s not the reason I came back.”
    Her hand shook with excitement as she caressed his strong, masculine jaw and confessed, “Bryn, I came for you.”
    His eyes narrowed, as he shook his head.
    Freya nodded, smiling with confidence. “It all makes sense now. I’ve had visions about you ever since I returned to Scotland. You said yourself that you don’t believe in accidents and I agree. It was no accident I came upon you the night of the bonfire, no accident that I happened upon you at the pub and no accident when I found you tonight. I wasn’t meant to die, I was meant for you so that you could finally live.”
    “Nae!” he growled. “It would not be right.”
    “Please, Bryn. I don’t want to be separated from you now that I’ve found you.”
    His voice was low and tortured when he explained, “I cannae, Freya. If I were to perform the Athrú, it would be fer purely selfish reasons.”
    “Listen to me.” She wrapped her arms behind his neck and gazed deep into his amber eyes. “You said you thought you had the Moon’s blessing when you vowed to protect the pack from your Ceannard . I believe this is her answer for your obedience.”
    Bryn’s eyes softened.
    “Honor the Moon’s blessing