“ Nor could he heed the pants and yips of the starving wolf pack tracking him through the snow. He drew his sword and hatchet. Whatever it was, he could kill it. He pointed his sealskin boots and jogged toward the racket with anticipation. What danger would he vanquish in the Solstice storm? The Highlands were steeped in tales of shape shifters and vengeful faeries. Perhaps a demon? Finn’s purpose on this isle was a lethal one. To prove himself to those at the temple of Freya who wou...ld doubt his lineage and loyalty. But a good fight would warm his blood. He bared his teeth in a snarl as he leapt atop and over one of the giant stones that littered the Highlands. Landing in a crouch in the snow, Finn spun to face the creature, his weapons raised for attack. And froze. Limbs straining against their bindings and a face as red with rage as he’d ever seen, the wee babe squalled at a pitch Finn would never have imagined humanly possible. He made a face. Did all babies make such a horrific noise? If so, how did the world ever come to be populated? Perhaps this was why women cared for little ones. A man would likely murder his own progeny after ten minutes of such a sound.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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