In the Arms of a Highland Warrior (Highland Myths Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Highland Myths Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
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Bhric shook his head not only at the disturbing thought but that he continued to think of his tribe and clan as separate. They needed to blend as one if he was to see Clan MacShane remain strong as he had promised his grandfather.

He smiled with the memory of his grandfather, Lord Donald. He had never once spoken badly of Bhric’s father or the Thrubolt Tribe. Instead, he had spoken of their courage and skill as warriors and how lucky Bhric had been to be born of a tribe and a clan with such immense strength and power. He had wisely known that by bringing both together nothing could defeat the Clan MacShane. Bhric had yet to see and implement his grandfather’s vision and it annoyed him that he had taken so long to realize it.

Hadn’t it been his wee wife who had seen it herself and had spoken of what he had failed to see that the tribe and clan were at a divide and needed to be brought together as one?

His wife. It seemed like all went back to his wife. He could not deny that things had not gone as well as he would have liked since his arrival home. His sister Ingrid had yet to warm to Tavia as did many in the Thrubolt Tribe, they were pleasant to her, but none had gone out of their way to befriend her, not so the Clan MacShane. They were pleased with her arrival and had been more and more welcoming to her especially after she had defied him and pleaded for Lath’s leg to be saved. Then there was Marta who had not taken kindly to her and Greta as well though something had changed in her after seeing Tavia stitch Lath’s wound.

He stopped abruptly. How could he expect his people to accept his wife if he had not accepted her? Tavia might not be what he wanted in a wife, but she was his wife and that would not change. She was kind and caring. Even the war hounds trusted her, so why shouldn’t he?

He continued walking, the answer to his question tumbling around in his head. She had been deceitful, trapping him in the marriage when she knew he had intended to negate the arrangement.

How, though, could she be kind and caring one moment and so deceitful the next?

The question continued to stir in him and by the time he reached the keep his anger had mounted. He stormed into the Great Hall with a vicious scowl on his handsome face that had servants scurrying to hide in the shadows.

Fen took a protective stance beside Tavia where she sat at a table by the large fireplace for warmth.

Tavia, however, did not cower, she stood, concern wide in her eyes. “What has happened? What has you so upset, my lord?”

“YOU!” he said, pointing at her and causing Fen to growl.

“Easy, Fen, my husband means me no harm. He would never hurt me,” Tavia said, and the dog’s growl turned to a low rumble as if he was not as sure as she was.

“My solar,” Bhric ordered and walked off.

Tavia hurried to follow, though kept her steps measured not wanting to disturb her leg that she had kept careful watch on and was doing well. She ordered Fen to sit and wait outside the room and the large hound appeared reluctant. She squatted down to give him a generous rub behind his ears, while mindful of his wound, then planted a kiss on the top of his head.

“All is well, Fen. There is nothing to fear,” she said and kissed him again. “You could use a rest. Lie down and wait for me.”

The hound did so, his eyes following her as she entered the room, and he gave a low whine when the door closed behind her.

“Sit!” Bhric ordered, pointing to a chair near the hearth.

Tavia did as he commanded, his anger unnerving her. What had she done to cause such ire in him? She had thought they had been getting along well and she had been pleased that he had not sent Fen back to the shed.

“Why the grand scheme to make me believe our marriage was consummated?” Bhric demanded. Her eyes went wide with fright, giving him the answer he had been looking for. “So, our marriage was never consummated.”

Defeat replaced fright in her eyes.

He crossed his arms over his wide chest and his chin went up as he continued to demand, “I have had enough. You will finally confess the truth to me.”

Her shoulders slumped as if a weight had suddenly left them. “Wasn’t it obvious, my lord? My clan would have never survived the winter without this marriage.”

“Not good enough, Tavia,” Bhric argued. “I do not like being deceived and though you and your father deceived me not making me aware of your limp, I would have seen your clan taken care of for the winter and longer if necessary. There must be more to your deception.”


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