that prompts this, I’m afraid to say. Murder is man’s specialty. Wolves do not kill for sport. Only for food or dominance within the pack. A werewolf is an unstable beast, and it is a lycan’s responsibility to put him down, which is not easy as a werewolf has the full strength of the wolf while the lycan must retain some of his human frailties.”
“And this werewolf that attacked Alex”—Daisy’s voice pulled to a thin whisper, her milky skin going the color of whey—“you called him mad, but aren’t they all?”
“Not in this way.” He felt the weight of his words as he spoke them. “His scent is heavy with sickness. I fear that it makes him even more unstable.”
“I smelled the sickness in him as well. A rotten scent.”
She never failed in surprising him.
“Aye,” he said.
Daisy nibbled on her bottom lip. “There is one thing I do not understand. We both smelled illness on thewerewolf. How can that be if you are all immortal? One would think sickness doesn’t affect you.”
Ian reached for her mug and took another drink. “Lycan do not become immortal until we reach physical maturation. Until then, we are as mortal as you. We can get sick…” The mug in his hand rattled as he set it down. “We can die. If one was to contract a degenerative disease beforehand”—Ian shrugged—“our makeup is such that the change into becoming full lycan would not destroy the disease, only slow its tide. The disease would be working on this
were’s
body, slowly breaking him down. Unfortunately, that doesn’t lessen the
were’s
strength, but simply makes the beast’s behavior more erratic.”
She moved to take a hasty sip of ale but set the cup back down when she found it empty. Her hands wrapped around the pewter mug as if to keep them still. “So where do we go from here?”
“As I said before, you will stay with me so that I may protect you.”
Daisy sat back abruptly. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?” he said. “Have you not heard a word I’ve been saying?”
“I heard every word, Northrup.”
His mouth was hanging open for he could not fathom her resistance. “Surely you can understand that you need protection.”
“Of course, I understand. Only I don’t see why
you
have to be the one to protect me.”
There were a few tempting oaths he’d like to shout, but he bit them back and went to the heart of the matter. “Are you afraid of me? Is that your worry?”
Daisy was silent for a moment, nibbling at the corner of her lip as she considered, but when she spoke, she lookeddirectly at him. “Well, you would know I was lying if I denied feeling fear when you told me.”
He gave a short nod and she continued. “But looking at you, and sitting with you now, I don’t feel afraid.” She shook her head slightly, and a small, self-deprecating laugh escaped her. “I suppose I must be daft”—her blue gaze grew sharp“—for annoyance is the most prevalent emotion I feel when I am around you.”
“Annoyance I can live with,” he said, hoping that he wasn’t grinning like a fool. “Come along then, we’ll go and collect your things.”
This time it was Daisy who caught ahold of his sleeve. “That was a lovely attempt, Northrup, but I’ll not be managed by you.”
He sat back with a grunt and ran a hand through his hair. “What is your objection then? What fool notion is it, for I’m sorely tempted to throw you over my shoulder and haul you off without further discussion.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He simply raised a brow, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest as if the action could somehow stop him. “Are you worried about your reputation?” he asked.
“Posh,” she said with a snort. “My reputation had been reduced to tatters long before you came sniffing around. Craigmore made certain of that.” Despite her bravado, her golden brows knitted as if the memory pained her.
Craigmore sounded like an ass.
“Well,” Ian said in satisfaction.