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Chapter Eight

LACHLAN

I let Alec have it as soon as he pulled the tower door shut.

“Have you lost your mind?” I said in Gaelic.

He faced me with glowing green eyes and replied in the same language. “She was going to leave.” He jabbed a finger at me. “You were going to let her!”

“Aye, because it’s what she wanted. Are you daft? You’ve broken the treaty.”

His expression turned mulish. “I have not.”

I flung a hand toward the door. “You locked her in the tower!”

“It’s what our forefathers did with reluctant mates.”

“Centuries ago. In a far different time. You can’t just grab women off the street and shackle them to your bed.”

He gave the door a speculative look.

“You can’t be thinking of doing that. Christ, Alec, you’ll go to prison.”

His eyes glinted, some of the haughtiness from his mother’s side coming through. “As if one could hold me.”

“So you are thinking it.”

“Of course not.”

“Then what’s your plan?”

He opened his mouth just as something hard thudded against the door. A moment later, a woman’s grunt rang out, followed by another dull thud that shook the ancient oak.

We stared at the door. Then Alec muttered, “You should talk to her.”

I gaped at him. “I should? You created this mess.”

“You shifted in front of her.”

Anger rose swift and hot. I dropped my voice to a growl. “You’re blaming me for this?”

“In part.” His gaze sharpened. “What happened, Lachlan? You haven’t lost control like that in forever.”

“I…” I clamped my jaw shut. Because he was right. I shouldn’t have lost control. Worse, I hadn’t even realized it was happening. That kind of mistake was reckless and dangerous. In a modern world full of smartphones and public surveillance, changing forms could mean outing all the Firstborn Races.

And that could lead to war.

Alec watched me, clearly waiting for an answer.

I cleared my throat. “I didn’t know she was eavesdropping.”

His expression said he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t press. Just glanced at the door and said, “She has a habit of doing that. And she liked what she saw.”

“Well, she didn’t like the aftermath. Forcing her off the battlements was one thing, but she’s unlikely to forgive the swats on her ass.” Her delectable ass, which had looked plump and fetching over his shoulder.

“Aye, she’s angry with me.” He shoved a hand through his hair, making the reddish waves stand on end. The arrogance drained from him, and his shoulders slumped. “I’ve botched this, haven’t I?”

“Botched, no. Fucked beyond all reason, aye.”