Reckless Protector: Isaacson Trilogy Book Three

23

After searching the pockets of the deceased and piling the bodies together, Ulric stared at five bloody amulets similar to his own. It was damning proof, as far as he could see, that the berserkers were members of 'The Angry Wolf.' The discovery answered a few questions but created several more and brought his worst fears into the open.

There was no doubt now that Ingrid was in danger, and Ulric's ability to keep her alive was dwindling with every passing minute. Indecision gnawed at his gut over the best action he should take.

Should they continue to Magnus as planned and get married, or would it be wiser to return to Buffalo Gulch and counsel with his brothers to devise an attack plan? One wrong decision was all it would take to seal their fates.

Over thirty minutes had passed since killing the last Berserker—twenty of which had been spent kissing and holding Ingrid on the side of the road, but there was such a strange feeling to the morning that it may as well be a different day altogether. It was almost as though the past events had changed something within and set him on a different course from when they'd first set out a little while ago.

"Do-do you know what they wanted?" Ingrid asked, her voice trembling just as badly as her hands, which she clutched at her waist. They were the first words she'd spoken since the attack.

Ulric nodded and stood. "You," He said with a grim bend to his lips, opening his hand to show her the amulets resting on his palm. "They're all members of 'The Angry Wolf.'"

The blood drained from her face as she stared at his hand, letting out a strangled gasp as she said, "I've seen those before."

"I'm not surprised." He gave her a sympathetic look and added, "They were responsible for the Clover Hill Massacre."

She bit her bottom lip and stared at the amulets, slowly nodding. "Yes, that must be it." It was apparent from her expression and tone that she didn't believe it to be the case.

Ulric studied her, watching a healthy pink slowly seep back into her pale cheeks. Were the amulets disturbing her, or was she unsettled by the attack? He would ask, but he didn't want to upset her further by broaching the subject.

Hoping he was doing the right thing, he placed the amulets in one of his saddlebags and then walked to a clean patch of snow. Using it to wash the blood from his hands, he took in the state of his clothing. It wasn't long before he muttered a curse and shook his head in disgust.

His coat and shirt only bore a light spraying, but his trousers were a different matter altogether, wholly drenched with blood and torn wide enough in several places to show glimpses of his bare thigh along the left side. This wasn't at all how he planned on looking for his wedding day. Turning to face her, he let out a heavy sigh and scratched his head. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

Ulric motioned to his ruined clothing. "This was the only semi-decent shirt and trousers I brought with me." The wind whipped around the boulders and whistled through the trees as he met her gaze and asked, "Will you still marry me?"

"Of course," she said without hesitation. Her cheeks warmed a pretty shade of pink as her eyes danced over Ulric's face, taking in every last detail before settling on his lips. She muttered a few words under her breath, but a gust of wind whisked all of them away except for 'naked.'

Her warm cheeks and what he'd heard didn't make it hard to figure out what she'd said. Ulric bit back a smile, "You ready to leave?"

Ingrid nodded and brushed a lock of hair out of her face, leaving a smear of blood on her cheekbone.

"We'll get married and return to Buffalo Gulch on the next train out of Sparrow's Hallow."

"What about the man you're here for?" Ulric shrugged, "He'll have to wait."