Read Highland Wolf Pact: Blood Reign: A Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance for Free Online Page B

didn’t know the woman’s name. “The lass... the guardian... is she hurt?”
    The man snorted. “Only ’er pride.”
    Griff grinned at that. “I did’na know she was a lass.”
    “She’ll be glad t’hear it.” The man stopped, pressing something on the wall, and behind them, the rock moved again, blocking out the light.
    Griff glanced back, checking to make sure his sword was still in his sheath, just in case. The other man lit a fire in a bowl, mumbling something, a prayer perhaps. Griff sighed with impatience. He’d traveled a long way to find this place, and he had a lot of questions he hoped someone here had the answers to.
    The fire bowl lit the underground cavern. This place would provide protection, Griff realized, from both the weather and the sea. And, of course, enemies. Much like their den at home, he thought, studying the big man who turned back toward him, the fire lighting his lined face.
    The man was as tall as Griff, steel gray hair falling to his shoulders, a thick beard covering his face. It was only when he turned toward him and Griff caught his scent that they recognized each other—not as men who knew each other, but as wulvers.
    “Yer like me.” Griff blinked at the man, incredulous.
    He’d never seen another wulver outside of his own den.
    “Aye.” The man wrinkled his nose, almost a snarl—it was a gesture Griff was used to. The man was scenting him. “Ye’ve come a long way, lad.”
    “Aye,” he agreed. “I seek answers.”
    “C’mon, then.”
    The big man led him further into the cavern, and Griff pulled his horse along. They came to a turn, and the man led him left, showing him a place where he could tie Uri in a stall and leave him beside two other horses.
    “D’ye ’ave anyone t’tend him?” Griff asked, glancing around the cavern.
    “I’m ’fraid not.” The old man shook his head. “There’re jus’ a few of us.”
    “Can ye wait fer me t’do so?”
    “Aye.”
    Griff took the time to rub the horse down. The animal hadn’t liked traveling on the ship he’d taken to the island. It had been quite an adventure so far, for both of them. There were two other horses in the stalls, fine looking animals, and Griff admired them. He gave Uri a feed bag and tossed straw down for him before following the other man throug h the tunnels of the cavern.
    “Where’d ye hear ’bout our temple?” The man held the fire bowl aloft as he walked, far too slow for Griff, but he accommodated the man’s pace. The other wulver was an older man, but by no means ancient. Griff guessed that he was mayhaps twenty years older than Griff’s own father.
    “The healers in m’den.” Griff followed the man around a corner, light coming from the end of the tunnel.
    “Leave yer weapons ’ere.” The older man unsheathed a sword, leaving it on a rack built into the cavern wall, glancing back at Griff, who did the same. “No weapons’re allowed in t’sanctuary. Ye may ’ave it back when ye go.”
    “But weapons’re required t’enter?” Griff’s brows went up, and he smirked.
    “Nuh, n’required.” The man balanced the fire bowl in his hands as he walked. They were entering the main part of the temple, exiting the cavernous tunnels. “Those who seek healin’ here, receive it wit’out challenge. But ye’re not in need of such healin’. Ye’re seekin’ somethin’ else.”
    That much was true. Griff didn’t know how the man knew. But mayhaps it was just a guess, and he knew nothing. How could he? Griff himself had only a vague idea of what it was he sought here in the temple of his ancestors. The lost packs. Mayhaps there was something he was meant to do, some greater destiny out there in the world for him, but whatever it was, there were wulvers out there who needed a leader.
    The lost packs that Beitrus and Moira had spoken of must be part of whatever destiny awaited him. He was almost certain of that fact. To his knowledge, there was no other place where he could