Laughing and crying, Breanna shook her head. “They found safe harbor. I have to tell Fiona and Gran. And Mihail’s wife. Oh, she’s been desperate for any news of him.” She threw her arms around Aiden’s neck and choked him with the hug. “Oh, thank you, Aiden. Thank you.” Spinning around, she almost knocked Liam over as she ran to the house.

Gwenn and Rhyann hurried after her.

Aiden looked at the man who continued to stare back at him. “You’re the Baron of Willowsbrook?”

“I’m Liam.”

Aiden extended his hand in the human way of greeting. “Aiden. The Bard.”

Some of the tension in Liam eased as he slipped his hand into Aiden’s. “Breanna has mentioned you.”

“No matter what she’s said, I’m not taking the dog.”

Liam grinned as they turned and looked at the small black dog, who was still sound asleep under the tree. They watched Lyrra ride up, slow her horse as she, too, looked at the dog and shook her head, and finally rein in when she reached them.

“I saw Breanna run into the house,” Lyrra said. “What’s wrong?”

Aiden shook his head. “The letter I had for her was good news. The kind women like to cry over.”

“And men never shed tears? Ha!” Lyrra shoved the reins into the closest pair of hands—which happened to be Liam’s—and ran to the house.

“I’ll take those,” Aiden said, holding out a hand for the reins. “You’ve other business to attend to.”

Nodding, Liam returned to the other barons.

Well, Aiden thought as he led Lyrra’s horse toward the watering trough in the stableyard, with Minstrel and the barons’ horses following, it isn’t exactly what Ashk intended when she’d askedme to smooth things over, but it will keep everyone occupied for a while.

They ran. There was no need for human speech. A yip, a soft growl, a wag of a tail was all either needed as commentary about the sounds and smells their heightened senses picked up.

It felt strange to roam the land with another shadow hound, especially another strong bitch. Selena fought against the instinct to surrender more to the animal nature and push a confrontation that would decide dominance. Perhaps because she knew, deep down, that Ashk had lived in this form in ways that she had not, and that experience would win in a fight.

So she trotted beside the Hunter, pleased with how easily they moved together.

Then she picked up a strange scent and moved off on her own to investigate. A bad smell. Bitter. Foul. The trail seemed to lead to the dead tree among the stand of trees up ahead.