by M. D. Massey
By maintaining some physical control, I gained a brief respite that allowed me to get a good look at Fallyn’s facial expression and demeanor. Sure, she was obviously trying to kill me, but I had no idea why. Well, I had some idea, but was this just due to disorientation after having her memories returned? Or did she really blame me for all that happened to her?
Based on the look in her eyes and the crazed expression on her face, it seemed to me like she was simply reacting out of instinct. Her eyes were wide and wild, her lips curled back in a snarl—revealing teeth that were longer and sharper than I recalled—and her jaw was clenched so tight, I worried she’d break something. Honestly, I didn’t think the rational, loving Fallyn I’d once known was present at the moment.
I popped to my feet, hanging onto her wrists while still inside her legs. “Fallyn, it’s me, Colin. Listen, Dermot is dead, and he can’t hurt you any—”
Before I could finish, she used the space I’d created by standing to place her feet on my stomach. Then, she kicked, up and out, with all the strength her werewolf-powered legs could muster. I knew I was going for a ride, and I had two choices. I could hang on and get flipped over her head at speed, landing on my back—painful, to say the least—or I could let go.
I chose to let go. Fallyn’s kick sent me sailing through the air in a high arc, until I landed in the grass a good twenty-five feet away. Although I managed to hit feet-first, my momentum sent me tumbling backward. Finally, after making a couple of unintended revolutions, I ended up in a three-point stance facing the direction from which I’d come. Knowing this was far from over, I looked up just in time to see my girlfriend leaping at me with murder in her eyes.
8
Man, this is not my fucking day.
The last thing I wanted to do was injure Fallyn while fending her off, especially since I felt like my decisions had already hurt her enough. If she really wanted to kill me—meaning, if all this rage was truly directed at me and not Diarmuid—I couldn’t really blame her. After all, it was my fault she’d been abducted and mentally tortured for days on end by that sick fuck.
But I had to consider all possibilities. If she was merely acting on instinct, driven by her wolf to lash out at any perceived threat, it was my job to keep her safe until she calmed down. Despite all the guilt I felt, I couldn’t let her unintentionally injure me while in a confused rage—she’d never forgive herself later.
And if she really did want to off me? Like I said, I didn’t blame her. If that was the case, I’d tell the Oak to send her back to her dad and just stay away until she calmed down. Say in, oh, three or four decades.
But first, I had to avoid getting my throat ripped out.
While Fallyn was still in the air, I dodged slightly left, catching her around the waist with my head under her right armpit. Then, I stepped around behind her, snaking my arms under hers and locking my hands behind her neck in a full nelson hold. Once I was certain she couldn’t use those deadly claws to disembowel me, I wrapped my legs around her waist and held on like a cowboy riding a bronc.
First, she tried to twist her body, hoping to loosen the hold so she could slip an arm free and toss me away. When that didn’t work, she jumped into the air, slamming us down on the ground using my body for a crash pad. I saw stars when my head smacked the earth beneath us, but I didn’t let go.
“Fallyn, it’s me, Colin,” I pleaded as she tried to break my hold. “Please, listen to me. I killed Dermot seven months ago, and he’s not coming back.”
“Fuck you. I know your mind games by now,” she growled as she tried to take a bite out of my elbow. “You just want me to think you’re Colin, but hell if I’m falling for it.”
Think! How can I convince her I’m me?
“Okay, so if I’m Dermot, could I know something about you that almost no one else knows?”
“You know shit, half-breed,” she snarled as she strained to break the grip I had behind her neck. Although I had the leverage, she would break free if this went on much longer. “You might be able to glamour me, but you can’t read my mind. We already established that, remember?”
“Then just listen, alright? Would Dermot know what you showed me at Big Bend, when we were looking for those lost kids?”
“Lots of people know we found those kids. Hell, it was on the news.”
“Sure, but the news crews weren’t there when we were on their trail.”
My grip was slipping, so Fallyn continued to struggle as she spoke. “Okay, go for it. Tell me this big secret we share.”
Here goes.
“You showed me that you can shift into a wolf. Not a human-wolf hybrid, but a full-on wolf.”
Momentarily, the she-wolf stopped struggling. “Colin?” she said as her voice cracked.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, relaxing my grip and releasing her. I scrambled back in a crab walk to give her some room.
She sat up, still facing away from me with her head lowered. “For real? This isn’t just a dream, or some sick illusion Dermot dreamed up?”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m the real deal.”
She turned her head slightly, looking at me over her shoulder. I saw her tense, and the next thing I knew she’d tackled me again, this time with her arms wrapped around my neck and her head buried next to mine. Then, she sat up and slapped me, hard, with tears in her eyes.
“That’s for killing that fucker and not saving him for me.”
“Sorry. It was the only way to free you. Bastard was more slippery than an eel. Finnegas pulled a fast one as usual and got him to agree to duel with me, in exchange for your release. Diarmuid—Dermot—had been sent to kill me anyway, so I guess he figured it was a sure thing. Turned out, it wasn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed as she screwed her mouth up in a lopsided frown. Then, she leaned over me with one hand on either side of my head and kissed me.
“That’s also for killing that bastard,” she said before rolling off me. She sat facing me, hugging her knees as she looked around. “Where the hell are we?”
“Um, Underhill, actually.”
Fallyn gave me a critical look, her voice serious as she spoke. “The last time I remember spending with you was in the Grove. Finnegas was there. Then, I got glamoured by Dermot and it’s all hazy after that, until I woke up at Mom’s.”
“Mom? Samson told me your mom died when you were just a kid.”
“Dad tells everyone that, to keep people from asking too many questions.” The girl’s eyes trailed off into the distance. “Needless to say, she wasn’t very involved with my upbringing. But I guess that’s where Dad took me after you fought Dermot.”
“Ah, right. So, what else do you remember?”
“Seven months at Mom’s place, the whole time thinking I was there to wait things out after you riled up the Cold Iron Circle.” She snapped her fingers, scowling. “That bitch didn’t just suppress my memories of what happened with Dermot; she wiped out our entire relationship. Ugh, I am going to have words with her when I get back.”
“You’re going back?” I asked, rather sheepishly.
“Not right away, but yeah, eventually. I have unfinished business there.” Fallyn managed to crack a smile, despite the weirdness of the situation and everything she’d been through. “Don’t worry, Golden Boy. I’m not giving up on you just yet.”
“I’m—well, it’s good to hear that.”
“You think I’d blame you for what Dermot did to me? Seriously?”
I shrugged. “It was my fault. You’d never have met the guy if he wasn’t trying to ruin my life. Not only that, but Samson warned me they’d go after you, and I didn’t listen.”
Fallyn sat in silence, chewing on that for a while. “That might be, but it’s always been my choice to stick by you. That is, after I decided not to hate you for all the trouble you brought the Pack. So, not your fault. Time to stop blaming yourself, Colin.”
“Ew, boy, the Pack,” I said, chewing on my lip. “You missed a lot while you were
away. Like, tons.”
“Alright,” she said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. “Maybe you should fill me in.”
“You what?” Fallyn exclaimed, her eyes wide and mouth agape. “You fought Dad for leadership of the Pack, and you were stupid enough to win? Oh, this is so, so bad.”
“Hang on,” I said, holding my hands out placatingly. “I have a plan.”
“That’s what worries me,” she replied.
“Geez, you are your father’s daughter,” I said. “That’s almost exactly what he said.”
“Because he’s not stupid, Colin. Have you not noticed that your plans always seem to work out well for you, while screwing everyone else?”
“Sheesh, no need to be hurtful,” I said, rubbing my hands on my pants. “Anyway, not in this case. Trust me, it’s going to work out.”
“If you say so,” she replied, just as the Oak shimmered into view nearby.
“Hey, you made it,” I said cheerfully as I stood up. “I was wondering when you’d figure out where I was.”
“Holy shit, you really do talk to trees,” Fallyn said. “And I thought all the rumors about druids were made up.”
“Just this one,” I replied, with a forced smile. “Mostly because it’s the only one that actually listens.”
She gave a rueful yet playful shake of her head before following me to the Oak at a careful distance. After her initial outburst of emotion earlier, the temperature between us had cooled off considerably. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t worry me, but she’d assured me that she had no intentions of breaking up. Frankly, I wouldn’t want to be close to anyone either after going through an ordeal like that.
By the time the Oak arrived, I’d spent hours catching Fallyn up on events. The only thing I left out was Finn’s death, simply because I didn’t want to hit her with too much bad news all at once. While it was a relief to have the old Fallyn back, things felt weird between us, and maybe they would for a while.
All things considered, I was just glad to have her back and not hating me. As for getting to know the spirit of Tethra’s plains, that would have to wait until later. After all, it wasn’t as if I planned to take up residence in Underhill.
“So, where are we headed?” she asked.
“Back to the clubhouse at the hunting grounds. I left your dad, uh, in charge in my absence. I figure the whole Pack is freaking out by now, with half of them ready to revolt. Best we take care of that before I move on to other, more pressing matters.”
She growled softly, although the set of her shoulders said she was resigned to the situation. “Fine. Let’s get this taken care of before the Pack dissolves.”
With a nod, I grabbed Fallyn’s hand with only the barest hint of hesitation. She didn’t resist, but I didn’t necessarily feel the warmth that had been there before, either. It might have been my imagination, but there was no time to mull it over. I put those cares away and laid a hand on the Oak’s trunk.
Take us to the Pack’s hunting grounds.
An instant later, Fallyn and I stood next to the Oak, along the treelined path that led from the Clubhouse to the Shaft. I heard several people arguing in the distance and the discordant sounds of multiple people conversing and talking over each other at once. I pointed up the trail to the Clubhouse, which was obviously the source of all the commotion.
“Your dad is that way, along with about two-thirds of the Pack.”
“Oh, you think?” Fallyn said archly as she stormed off toward the Clubhouse. “C’mon, Golden Boy. Time to fix what you broke.”
I jogged in front of her, turning to face her as I stepped into her path. “Hang on a minute. I don’t want to make a volatile situation worse, so what say we go in there nice and quiet? Then, once we get the lay of the land, we can make our presence known.”
Fallyn sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Let’s hope, I thought as I cast Biróg’s Obfuscation on us. I trailed behind Fallyn as she marched into the clearing, thinking about how I wanted this to play out. Several dozen Pack members argued among themselves in the yard and driveway of the Clubhouse. Meanwhile, Samson stood on the porch steps, flanked by Guerra and Sledge as he squared off against a small contingency of ’thropes.
As we skirted the crowd, voices began trailing off as the crowd’s attention turned to the main event. Once we angled around to mount the wraparound porch from the side entrance, I got a good look at who was giving Samson grief. Disappointment and a tiny bit of anger ate at my insides as I watched Trina face down her former alpha, backed by a half-dozen ’thropes that were a mix of males and the few female wolves in the Pack.
Based on the set of her shoulders, I could tell that Fallyn was about to step forward and speak. Once she did it would break the concealment spell and reveal our presence to everyone present. Despite her eagerness to stand up for her dad, I wasn’t ready to announce our arrival just yet.
Before she could speak, I placed a hand on Fallyn’s arm and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”
“Since the day he showed up here, he’s been trouble with a capital T,” Trina spat as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We can’t let him lead the Pack, Samson. You know it as well as I do.”
“He beat me fair and square, Trina, in mutual combat,” the grizzled old werewolf replied. “Much as you and some others don’t like it, he’s still Pack, and that gave him the right to challenge me. It’s how we’ve always settled things, and how ’thropes everywhere choose new leadership. The strongest always leads, and right now, he’s the strongest we have.”
“Yeah, but only because of his fae magic,” someone yelled from the crowd.
“Fae curse, more like it,” someone else shouted.
“He ain’t no ’thrope!” a third added, only to be answered by murmurs of agreement from at least half the crowd.
Sheesh, tell us how you really feel, people.
Samson raised his hands in air, a gesture that quieted most of the chatter and grumbling. Once he had the crowd’s attention, he spoke in a voice that was low and dangerous, yet that somehow carried across the clearing.
“Oh, so you folks think your brand of shifter magic is better than his? Really? Because I remember a time when our kind was hunted to the ends of the Earth for having the ability to shift. And where do you think your ability to shift comes from, the fucking shifter fairy? You know as well as I do that we’re all descendants of other races, every last one.”
“Just because some god fucked a human way back when and gifted their offspring with the power to shift, it doesn’t make us fae,” Trina countered. “We’re our own people, and we have been for millennia. Our history is established, and our society has been stable for centuries. But that kid? He’s something new, and that makes him different—and dangerous.”
While they’d been arguing, Fallyn and I had snuck onto the porch behind Samson, Sledge, and Guerra. Fallyn was clenching her fists so tightly that blood was seeping out of her palms, and her yellow eyes swept the crowd as she noted every dissenter. As for me, I made sure I didn’t roll my eyes hard enough to be heard and kept my mouth shut. After almost two years of hearing this same bullshit from various Pack members, I was used to it.
Samson frowned slightly as he slowly nodded. “So, what I’m hearing is that your main argument against following the kid’s leadership is that he’s not one of you. Is that right?”
Again, roughly half the crowd erupted with shouts and replies in the affirmative, while the other half remained silent. On scanning the audience, it was clear I had very few true supporters in the Pack. Even those who hadn’t been outright opposed to my membership seemed to be waiting to see which way the cat jumped.
Samson looked over his shoulder, staring directly at me as he spoke over the clamor. “It’s now or never, kid. Better make your case before you lose half the Pack.”
How he knew we were there, I had no idea. Maybe he sensed the vibration of the porch
planks as we snuck up, or the spell didn’t conceal our scent fully. Or perhaps he just knew when his daughter was nearby. Whatever the reason, the old wolf had made it clear it was my show now, so I grabbed Fallyn’s hand and dropped the obfuscation spell.
We were standing right behind Samson, so it didn’t take long for the crowd to notice our presence. First, there were a few surprised gasps, then people started murmuring about Fallyn’s return. Unfazed, Trina looked back and forth at the male and female werewolves standing next to her, then she stepped forward.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” she sneered. “He fights for the leadership of the Pack and then abandons us immediately. If this is any indication of how he’s going to lead us, I’m not sticking around to see how it ends.”
“Really, Trina?” I said as half the crowd whistled and catcalled their approval. “I expected others to balk at this, but not you.”
She shrugged. “I like you, Colin, but I meant what I said. As a member, I can tolerate you, but as an alpha? I think you’re bad for the Pack.”
“At least I know where you stand,” I said before I pumped both druid and Pack magic into my voice. “Alright, everyone, settle down. Whether you like it or not, I’m your alpha, and that gives me the right to make my case.”
Most quieted down, but some mental midget in the back was bold enough to shout his dissent. “Fuck you, druid!”
“Over my dead body,” Fallyn growled as she raised our clenched hands in the air. “He’s my mate—mine. So, if you want to fuck him, you’ll have to fight me to do it.”
That got more than a few chuckles from the crowd, and way in the back, I saw a couple of male ’thropes teasing a rather red-faced young biker. It was just the opening I needed, so I wasted no time in making my argument.
“Well, since you brought it up—” I said as I gave Fallyn a sly wink. “As my first official act, I’m abdicating my position to my mate.”