Taming The Wolf

Chapter 4

Bran strode through the stone corridors of his castle, his footsteps echoing off the walls. The scent of Aoife lingered in his nose, a heady mix of lavender and fear that stirred something primal within him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

The torches flickered as he passed, casting dancing shadows across the rough-hewn stones. Servants scurried out of his way, averting their eyes. Bran barely noticed them, his mind focused on finding Lorcan.

He pushed open the heavy oak door to the great hall. The cavernous room was empty save for one figure hunched over a map spread across the long table.

"Lorcan."

The man's head snapped up, his eyes widening as he took in Bran's expression.

"My king." Lorcan straightened, his hand instinctively moving to rest on the hilt of his sword. "What troubles you?"

Bran crossed the room in long strides. "The girl. Aoife. She's awake."

Lorcan's brow furrowed. "And?"

"And nothing." Bran's voice was low, a growl rumbling in his chest. "She stays."

"But—"

"No." Bran slammed his fist on the table, making the candles jump. "I've made my decision."

Lorcan took a step back, his eyes darting to the door. "The pack won't like this."

"The pack will do as I say." Bran's eyes flashed a liquid mercury color, his wolf rising to the surface. "Or have you forgotten who leads us?"

A tense silence stretched between them. Lorcan's jaw clenched, but he lowered his gaze. "No, my king. I haven't forgotten."

Bran's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Good. Now, tell me what news you have of the Vikings."

Lorcan hesitated, then pointed to a spot on the map. "Our scouts report they've made camp here, just beyond the forest's edge."

Bran's eyes narrowed as he studied the map. The Vikings were too close for comfort, their presence a looming threat to his territory and to Aoife. He ran a hand through his dark hair, silver strands catching the candlelight.

"We can't let them get any closer," Bran growled, his fingers tracing the boundary of the forest.

Lorcan shifted uneasily. "What do you propose, my king? A show of force?"

Bran shook his head, his silver eyes flashing. "No. Bloodshed will only bring more of them. We need to be smarter than that."

He paced the length of the table, his mind racing. The castle's had remained hidden for centuries, but the Vikings' proximity made him uneasy.

"We watch them," Bran decided, turning back to Lorcan. "No interaction, no engagement. Just observe and report back."

Lorcan's brow furrowed. "And if they stumble upon the castle?"

A low rumble escaped Bran's chest. "If they do, we have no choice but to get rid of them quickly and quietly. We can't risk anyone knowing about this place."

He leaned over the map again, marking out patrol routes with quick, decisive strokes. "We'll rotate shifts, keep eyes on them at all times. I want to know their every move, every whisper."

Lorcan nodded, relief evident in his posture. "It's a wise plan, my king. We'll start immediately."

Bran straightened, his gaze distant. "They may never find the castle, Lorcan. But we can't afford to take chances. Not with..." He trailed off, Aoife's face flashing in his mind.

"Not with the girl here," Lorcan finished, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

Bran's eyes snapped to his second-in-command, a warning growl rumbling in his chest. Lorcan quickly lowered his gaze.

"Set up the patrols," Bran ordered, his voice brooking no argument. "I want updates every hour. And Lorcan?" He waited until the other man met his eyes. "Remember, no engagement. We're ghosts in our own forest."

Bran watched as Lorcan turned to leave, his shoulders tense. The second-in-command paused at the door, his hand on the handle. Bran could sense the unasked question hanging in the air.

"Speak your mind, Lorcan," Bran growled, his patience wearing thin.

Lorcan turned, his eyes narrowed. "Why her? Why this human girl?"

Bran's jaw clenched. He'd known this question was coming, but it didn't make answering any easier. "She's my mate."

Lorcan's eyes widened. "Your mate? But she's human!"

"I know what she is," Bran snapped, his wolf rising to the surface. He took a deep breath, forcing it back down. "I could smell it the night I found her."

The memory of that night flooded his senses. The forest had been alive with the scent of pine and damp earth, but cutting through it all had been her scent - lavender and honey, fear and determination.

"I was out patrolling when it hit me," Bran continued, his voice low. "Her scent. It was... intoxicating. I followed it without even realizing what I was doing."

Lorcan's brow furrowed. "But how can you be sure?"

Bran's eyes flashed in aggrevation. "You think I don't know my own mate?" He stalked towards Lorcan, his voice a low growl. "The moment I saw her, everything clicked into place. My wolf recognized her instantly."

He remembered the way his heart had thundered in his chest when he'd first laid eyes on Aoife, her fiery hair a beacon in the moonlight. The overwhelming urge to protect her, to keep her safe, had nearly consumed him.

"I didn't choose this, Lorcan," Bran said, running a hand through his hair. "But I won't deny it either. She's mine to protect, whether the pack likes it or not."

Bran's tension eased slightly as he watched understanding dawn on Lorcan's face. The second-in-command's shoulders relaxed, and he gave a slow nod.

"I see," Lorcan said, his voice low. "A true mate bond is rare, even among our kind. For you to find it with a human..." He shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "The pack won't understand at first, but they'll come around."

Bran raised an eyebrow, surprised by Lorcan's sudden shift. "You think so?"

Lorcan squared his shoulders. "I know so. Because I'll make sure they do." He met Bran's gaze, determination glinting in his eyes. "You have my word, my king. I'll defend your decision to the pack. They may not like it, but they'll respect it."

The knot in Bran's chest loosened. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed Lorcan's support until this moment. The weight of leadership often felt crushing, but having a loyal second made all the difference.

"Thank you, Lorcan," Bran said, his voice rough with emotion. "Your support means more than you know."

Lorcan nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "We've been through too much together for me to abandon you now, old friend. Besides," he added with a chuckle, "someone has to keep you from doing anything too reckless."

Bran laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. It felt good to laugh, to feel the camaraderie between them again. For a moment, the worries of Vikings and pack politics faded away.