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Six.

Colt could hear the raucous laughter and the music playing, the moment she stepped out of the truck. The village hall they were going to was an unassuming building from the outside, with large red doors on the front of the white washed building. Colt and Iona approached it from the side street, where they had parked Colt's pick up, making their way around to the front door. While Iona left scarce to the imagination in her choice of clothing, Colt had a long lightweight coat on, that stopped just below her knees, giving her plenty of time to settle in before her big reveal.

The ceilidh itself wasn't a clan member only event. It was open to all in the surrounding areas, and friend and foe often turned up to listen to the music or get the craic with their neighbours. Thus, Colt had been warned that there was normally at least two alcohol induced brawls by the end of the evening, and any less than that meant, it wasn't considered a good night. Apparently.

"For the record, I threw a spare skirt in the back of your truck." Iona whispered, as she put her hand on the door latch to open it. "You know, incase you chicken out." She winked.

"With the length of your skirts, I bet the indecent exposure would cause even more of an upset. Come on, let's go." Colt laughed, moving through the door her cousin held open for her.

The smell hit her first, earthy and woody, yet it was over laid with the strong smell of alcohol, people, and food. Then, the fast paced melody coming from the fiddles and the accordion, that were being played up on the main room's stage, quickly hit Colt's ears. There were large unadorned circular tables lining the outside of the space, each with eight chairs circled about them, leaving a large empty space in the middle of the room, filled with laughing and merry dancers. Then off to the side wall was a temporary bar, which was obviously well stocked, judging by the afore mentioned, boozy smell of the place. The wooden panelled walls had sparkling multicolored fairy lights pinned up, and there was even a ridiculous glitter ball hanging limply from the ceiling. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, but it looked like so much fun, and she resented her grandparents for putting her in a position where she needed to make a point, and couldn't just enjoy her night.

Reapplying her smile, Colt followed her younger cousin toward the bar, smiling amiably at those she passed, and spotting the buffet table pressed up against the far wal, it was laden down with sandwiches and savory pastries, like sausage rolls and mini quiches, before a dessert selection appeared, with cream filled meringues, a large trifle and even chocolate cupcakes. Despite having eaten, Colt found her stomach rumbling at the sight.

There were several familiar faces and some not so familiar, but she definitely felt every inch the new comer as all eyes, both human and shifter alike followed her journey through the room. She absently realised that, she really ought to get out of her house more, maybe get a job and meet some people, because this was ridiculous, she felt like she was in a goldfish bowl, completely on display.

Just as they made it to the bar, the music came to a natural end, signalling a round of clapping from those on the dance floor. But, Colt froze in shock as a merry voice from the band, boomed through the speakers.

"Right you lot, if you are finished bloody ogling Jimmy and Reenie's American granddaughter, then you can get your backsides up on the dance floor, for the Dashing White Sergeant next. Aye, Daniel, I know she's a bonnie lass, but come on, enoughs enough, let her get a drink and settle in." The man on the stage with the fiddle said, scowling at one of the revelers at a nearby table. Daniel presumably. "Come on now, groups of six up you get!" He ordered.

Colt was mortified, she could feel the heat seeping up her neck and into her face, as the band restarted the music. Iona on the other hand was buckled over snorting in laughter at her expense.

"Welcome home, Cousin." She blurted out while still giggling. When she had calmed enough, she turned to the barman, "Two vodkas and coke. Make hers a double please. I think she needs it now." She said, nodding at Colt while still sniggering away.

Colt gave her head a light shake, and accepted the drink thankfully. Before, following Iona through the throng of people to find a seat, mercifully at the opposite side of the room from her grandparents.

As community gatherings go, Colt found she liked this. There were people of ages young and old, from children of about seven or eight, running about energetically, to elderly members of the community such as her grandparents. Who were currently sat across the room smiling at her. She cheerfully raised her glass to them, while hiding her contempt behind a forced smile.

She watched the dances with fascination, a lot of them seemed to run in steps of four, a recurring one that was danced was The Gay Gordons where the woman stood to the right of the man, and they clasped hands above their heads, right to right above the lady's right ear and left to left just at the lady's left shoulder. They then seem to skip forward three steps and swivel around to face backwards without their hold breaking on the fourth, and then step backwards for four. Next the couple would repeat this move going in the opposite direction. All the couples seem to work in sync moving in a large loop around the room, although the further into the evening, the more bumping into one another Colt seemed to notice. Next the female would be spun around under the males arm with just the two hands connected, all while still moving around their giant loop, before the couple would come back together, and waltz for four steps around before returning to the first steps of the dance. All in all, it seemed very simple, but the more alcohol the dancers consumed, the more complicated the routine seemed to become. However, that being said, Colt did notice how everyone taking part was laughing happily at their own missteps.

Two hours had passed, and she had merrily drank and conversed with quite a few people, and now it was around nine o'clock and the younger generation had left, with choruses of complaints about the spoiled "routines" and "we will suffer for this tomorrows," from their parents. Colt would have been lying, if she didnt admit to the pang of homesickness that hit her chest. She suddenly felt a longing to be around the loud and cheerful faces of her nieces and nephews, and made a mental note to call all her brothers in the next few days, purely to speak to the children.

The atmosphere shifted after the children were gone, the remaining people got a bit louder, and there was the sounds of more swearing in casual conversation around them, now being heard. Colt was still sat at her table, her coat off but draped over her lap, laughing along with Iona and a few other locals. She had even met a man who had offered her an interview for a job as a barmaid, and she had to admit, she liked the sound of it. A friendly little pub, where she could get to meet a few more locals, and get out of the house for a few evenings a week, sounded just perfect.

Colt had been drinking at a much slower pace than her cousin. In fact she was pretty sober, when Angus began to confidently make his way over towards her, making her shudder internally.

"Here we go." Iona muttered with excitement under her breath, making Colt smirk.

But, before he could even get close enough to utter a single word to Colt, everyone's attention shifted to the group of men who had just walked in the door. Colt watched as the dancers stopped and the music seemed to grow quieter. Every eye in the building was on the seven young men who had just walked in. But none more so that Iona. She was positively trembling. Colt followed her eyeline and spotted a blonde man, who was staring just as intently back at her. His fists were balled, and even in the dim light she could make out, that he was clenching his jaw so tightly, he must be about to grind his teeth clean out of his jaw.

The look they shared was palpable, lust and unadulterated longing permeated the air between the two. Colt would have though that this young man was Iona's true mate, especially with how her cousin seemed to be physically reacting to his presence. The only issue with that theory was that Colt had met Iona's future mate and husband, and this blonde man certainly was not Samuel MacTavish.

The group seemed to come in, in slow motion, and made their way to the bar with all.eyes trailing them, and Colt swore she could taste the testosterone in the air, never mind smell it. Angus was rigid beside their table, and Colt found the whole scene rather amusing. After what seemed like the longest moment, the music seemed to get louder again and the casual voices of conversation resumed, as did the dancers on the floor. All went back to normal, except for Iona, who was still mildly vibrating beside Colt. Her gaze was still locked on the man at the bar, and her knuckles had turned white on the hand wrapped tightly around her empty glass.

"So, does Sam know about your real mate then?" Colt asked brazenly, elbowing Iona in the ribs hard enough to break her focus from her staring contest with the mysterious blonde.

"What?!" Iona snapped. "Lower your voice, dammit!" She hissed, making Colt giggle. "Ho, how did you even work that out?" She asked completely flustered as her eyes darted around, checking for anyone paying attention to their conversation.

Colt laughed, and pointed to her tattooed neck. "I may have the words Never Again written over Elijah's mark. But, there was no doubt about it, he was my true mate. The other half of my soul." She shrugged. "Plus, it's really quite obvious, by how you two are eye fucking one another across the room. Who is he anyway?" She asked nonchalantly.

Iona sighed, "His name is Alastair Dougal. He is my true mate, and let's just say, unfortunately either he or I were born into the wrong clan, and leave it at that, okay." She shrugged, then stood up abruptly, ending the conversation at the same time. "I'm going to go find my Dad, I will look out for the imminent fireworks." She said, giving a forced smile, and moving away to let Angus approach.

Colt watched however, as Angus grabbed Iona's upper arm aggressively, and pulled her in to whisper in her ear. His face was of steel and she could see the group of men crowding around Alasdair at the bar, to stop him advancing towards Iona. This was beyond wrong she thought, listening to Angus speaking.

"He can't have you Iona. Don't be a stupid bitch! Know your fucking place." He sneered viciously.

Iona's eyes flared in anger, the hiss was bubbling up in her throat as her claws began to extend, ready to swipe that smug look off of Angus' pretty face. But, before she could react the crowd went silent, as Colt a known member of the Campbell family stood up, wearing their rival's tartan.

This time the music did stop, but Colt walked over to Angus, ignoring the stares and comments. His back was to her as she put her hand on his shoulder, and forcefully spun him to face her. She wasn't quite ready for the big reveal yet, but, in a split second she made a fast decision, her temper flaring out of her grasp very quickly.

"Get your dirty, fucking, hands off my cousin!" She snarled, allowing a fair amount of her wolf temper to surface.

Wolves and Wildcats both have their share of territorial instincts, but Colt had the wolf's instinct to protect her own on top, and Iona was very much hers, and pack is pack. If Angus Bruce thought he was walking out of here at this point, he had another thing coming.

Angus stumbled backwards, the scent of his fear permeating into the air. His embarrassment was surfacing, as the crowd at the bar began to clap and holler, aiming encouragement at Colt, and even Iona's anger dissipated, as she began sniggering at his expense. Colt advanced towards him, the anger radiating off of her. As Angus backed away, both his hands raised in surrender, he noticed Colt's outfit and paused in annoyance.

The distraction cost him, as Colt snarled, almost upon him, her head tilted at a forty-five degree angle. She feigned a lunge at him, causing Angus to jump back in fright. Unfortunately for Angus, his feet then got tangled in a jacket, which had slipped off a chair behind him. He fell, landing with a thump on the floor. Over half the hall erupted in laughter, while the rest, seemed to be cringing inwardly, embarrassed for the male lying on the floor. Colt smirked, tilting her head around to the other side as she blatantly evaluated him.

"And people are deluded enough to believe, that there is any reality, in which I can be pressed upon to marry you?" She scoffed, furthering Angus' embarrassment.

Colt looked at Angus on the floor, before she shot her eyes across to her grandparents who were scowling at her from across the hall. She rolled her eyes uncaring, before literally stepping over Angus to make her way to the cheering group at the bar. "Another drink Iona?" she called over her shoulder.

But before Iona could answer, a very pissed off Angus was up on his feet and laughing his head off. "So you finally worked it out, then?" He spat bitterly. "And they say American's are stupid." He called, baiting Colt further.

"Excuse me?" She snarled back at him.

"What do you expect? You should be fucking thanking your lucky stars any of us would entertain the idea of breeding with a mongrel like you! Fuck, I can smell the dog from here!" He paused, enjoying the look of aggravation on Colt's face. "Well guess what, Princess. You dont have a choice!" He laughed. "You will be mine! And if I ever fucking catch you wearing that filth again, you'll pay for it."

That was the last thing he said, before Colt's fist impacted with his face and broke his nose. Before he could call out she then punched him, hard, in the throat, causing Angus' body to drop on the ground where he stood, as he grappled with his lack of ability to breathe, blood covering the front of his pale blue shirt.

"If you ever, so much as look at me again Angus Bruce, my dog self as you called it, will fucking rip your throat out. You weak excuse of a man. Fuck, you're pathetic." She spat disdainfully, as Angus clawed at his throat helplessly. "Same again was it, Iona?" she called over shoulder, sashaying her way to the bar, as the music picked up again and Angus' Uncle came over shaking his head in disgust at his nephew.

"Well, she isn't wrong." Arthur Bruce said, picking up his nephew, and making his way out. "At least about you being weak, and pathetic, that is boy."

Author's Note: when I get a chance I will post some Ceilidh videos from you tube on the Facebook page, @Bethanyriverwrites. My personal favourite is a strip the willow. There is a lot of twirling and spinning and as a teenager in often ended up on floor thanks to an over zealous partner. 🙈🤣 Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments please. B x.

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