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Newlin sat silent, staring anxiously at Torin, and Cree quickly came to his rescue. “I was summoned before the marriage took place.”

Cree’s response did not seem to appease Torin, and he waited for what he was sure the man would say.

“Understandable, but now that I have arrived your help is no longer needed,” Torin said. “I will see to the matter until Lord Bhric arrives.”

Newlin wisely put some distance between Cree and himself on the bench when Cree’s thick arms came down to rest on the table, his hands locked together as if preventing himself from throwing a punch. Torin was wise as well, leaning back away from the edge of the table where he sat directly opposite of Cree.

“Listen well, Torin,” Cree began, with a threatening tone and fearlessness in his dark eyes. “I am in command here and I will remain in command until the problem is solved. You may help if you’d like, as may Lord Bhric, but make no mistake… you both will answer to me.”

“Lord Bhric will not be happy to hear that,” Torin said.

“Ah dinnae care what Lord Bhric likes or doesn’t like. It is the way it will be,” Cree commanded.

“I have no fight with you, Lord Cree,” Torin said.

“Wise response,” Cree snapped.

“But this clan now belongs to Lord Bhric, and he will not take kindly to you commanding it,” Torin warned.

“Lord Bhric can settle that with me,” Cree said. “In the meantime, I will allow you to remain here to wait for him.”

Torin laughed. “I do not need your permission to remain here.”

Cree leaned forward, his muscled chest expanding as he braced his hands on the table. “Do I need to show you who is in command here?”

Torin drew farther back on the bench fighting to keep from falling off it and repeated, “I have no fight with you, Lord Cree.”

“That is not what the fiery anger in your eyes tell me,” Cree said.

“My friend sent me here to help him and ah dinnae like to fail my friends,” Torin said.

“Then assist in helping to solve the problem so that when Lord Bhric arrives he will not be embarrassed in front of his bride when I beat him to a pulp for thinking to command me,” Cree said loudly.

All eyes in the room landed on Cree and the woman who came up behind him.

A familiar hand suddenly settled on Cree’s shoulder and unable to calm his anger, he turned and snapped, “You are supposed to be resting, wife.”

Dawn smiled and his hand went to her arm to assist her as she lowered herself to sit next to him.

Her smile alone could often calm him, but her presence had a way of soothing his soul. That was until he noticed that she was still wearing her cloak and the hem was wet.

“Were you outside?” he asked, pointing to the obvious… her wet hem.

Dawn kept a smile on her face as she nodded.

“What did I tell you about going outside alone?” he demanded and turned to Beast. “And why did you let her?”

Dawn frowned and shook her head at her husband, then summoned Beast to her side.

The large dog whimpered, realizing he had done something wrong, and rested his head on Dawn’s thigh.

Torin watched with amusement as the woman without a voice commanded the mighty Cree like no warrior ever could as well as a beast of a dog. He unwisely decided to point it out. “You command a mighty troop of warriors, yet you cannae command your wife.”

Newlin hopped off the bench as Cree went to stand.

Dawn’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. She smiled and patted her chest, then her mouth, then pointed to Torin.

Cree grinned, nodded, and turned to Torin and warned, “Be afraid, be very afraid.”

Torin did not know what to make of Cree’s remark. Why would he be afraid of a voiceless woman?

Dawn stood, pushing her husband’s arm away when he went to help her. She walked around the table, Torin’s eyes following her and when he went to stand after she reached him, she clamped her hand down on his shoulder letting him know he was to stay where he was.

Torin saw the anger swirling in her eyes and went to speak, her finger slammed against his lips stopping him and she shook her head at him, ordering him to remain silent, and he did.

Her hands started flying in gestures that he did not understand, though when she shook her finger at him he knew he was being reprimanded. She kept going and when she clapped her hands directly in front of his face, he startled and realized just what a commanding presence the voiceless woman had.

Torin raised his hands. “I apologize. I meant no harm.”

“Wise to surrender,” Cree said with a smug smile.

Surrender did not sit well with Torin. “How often do you surren—”


Tags: Donna Fletcher Romance