by Shea Balik
It was never on purpose, since Hrafn had to be one of the kindest people Wylie knew, and once Hrafn realized he’d said something he shouldn’t have, he always apologized. In a way, Wylie should be grateful Dùghall had only ignored him, or disapproved of the things he did. It could have been so much worse.
“Hey, Hrafn,” he said, wishing he could just be alone.
“Did you want me to saddle up one of the horses for you?” Hrafn offered. “I’m sure several of them would like to stretch their legs.”
Trying his best not to show his embarrassment, Wylie shook his head. “I never learned to ride,” he admitted. Another failure in Dùghall’s eyes.
“But you lived on a farm,” Hrafn said. “Fritjof said you had horses there. How did you not learn?”
Defensiveness started to flare up within him, but Wylie tamped it down. Hrafn wasn’t trying to be mean. He knew that. It was hard not to take offense, though. He’d grown up with too much criticism for it not to have affected his responses.
“I just never got the hang of it,” Wylie finally answered when he thought he could say it without snapping at Hrafn.
“Well, I’d be more than happy to teach you,” Hrafn offered.
A cute smaller horse trotted up to the fence, it’s soft nose touching Wylie’s hand. It’s beautiful golden coloring shone under the sun’s rays. But the way the mane stood up in a Mohawk had Wylie smiling at it as he reached out to brush his hand along the top of it.
“I’ve never seen a mane like this,” he said.
“That’s a characteristic of a Fjord Pony,” Hrafn told him.
Bryce came racing across the yard then with his Uncle Cullen and Ulf walking behind him with a big picnic basket. “Hrafn, Hrafn, can you help me saddle Dew Drop? I’m going on a picnic,” he shouted excitedly as he ran into the barn.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a little while in case you change your mind about learning to ride,” Hrafn said as he went back to the barn.
A soft muzzle nudged Wylie’s hand as if begging for more petting. Unable to help himself, Wylie found he was smiling, for real. It always amazed him how animals could make the world seem like a better place.
“Who’s a pretty girl,” Wylie cooed at the horse as he scratched the top of her head. That elicited a soft chuffing noise, which Wylie took to be mean she liked what he was doing. “At least you think I can do something right,” he whispered as he leaned closer to the fence and rested his head against the softness of her neck.
“It would be nice to have someone who likes me.” A tear slipped out of one eye when the horse nudged closer, her head gently laying on Wylie’s shoulder as if she were giving him a hug, something he hadn’t had in… hell, he couldn’t even remember.
“How sad is that?” More tears fell and Wylie’s voice sounded strained as he tried to speak around the lump that was forming his throat. “Something as simple as a hug, yet, other than Tess, I don’t think I’ve received one in at least six years. Possibly longer.”
He’d only just started dating when they’d gone on the run from the Fae who had set his sights on Mairi. He’d gone out on exactly three dates. All of which were different boys from school. “Not even the boys at school liked me enough to go out with me a second time. It’s probably a good thing I lived in seclusion, or I would have realized a lot sooner that no one likes me.”
The horse made a few noises and pushed even closer to Wylie. He’d never had a horse this affectionate before, but Wylie couldn’t deny being grateful for it. Especially when the horse moved her head as if she were trying to pet Wylie’s hair.
Why couldn’t anyone human treat him like this? “What’s wrong with me?” he sobbed as he tucked his head against her neck. “I’m not the only one who likes to wear makeup or stylish clothes. Does that really make me unworthy?”
The horse pulled back just briefly and Wylie would swear she shook her head at Wylie, before taking her spot at his shoulder again. Was it possible the horse actually understood him? He knew horses often could sense emotions, but her reaction went far beyond that. Didn’t it?
“Thank you, for saying that,” Wylie told it, hoping he wasn’t actually crazy. Then again, no one was around to know, so he might as well go with it. “You’ve been so nice to me and I don’t even know your name.”
Wylie stepped back and looked into those golden eyes that seemed familiar somehow. Probably just because they had formed a connection so quickly. He cocked his head as he looked her over. “What should I call you?”
He considered her golden coloring, as well as the way she made him feel happy even though he’d been miserable when he arrived. “How about Buttercup, girl? I know you probably already have a name, but would you mind if I called you that?”
She took several steps back, and Wylie swore either she didn’t like the name he’d picked for her, or, maybe she just needed to think about it. “It’s okay, I don’t have to call you that if you don’t like it. I was just hoping to have something just between me and you.” That last part barely made any sound at all as he began to think he had to be hitting an all new low if he’d managed to make a horse not like him.
But then a loud huff drew his gaze back to the horse. She bobbed her head several times, the stepped right back up to him and gave him another horse hug.
Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her neck. “You like that name?”
“What name?” Hrafn was striding toward Wylie.
Proudly he stood next to the horse and said, “I’m calling her Buttercup.”
Hrafn’s eyes went wide as saucers as he looked from Wylie to Buttercup. His head started to move back and forth. “But…”
Before he could say more, Buttercup let out an angry snort and even stomped her foot at Hrafn.
It seemed impossible but Hrafn’s eyes grew even wider, until they practically took over his entire face. “Oh, um, okay. But…”
Buttercup repeated her snort and hoof stomp.
“You know what?” Hrafn started to back up. “I’m going to go and put up the rest of the horses for the night.”
Then he spun on his heel and rushed for the barn, every once in a while looking back over at the two of them, shaking his head.
“What was that all about?” Wylie asked Buttercup.
But she didn’t answer. Obviously, since she couldn’t talk. Wylie hugged Buttercup again. “I better go if Hrafn is putting all of you in the barn for the night. But thank you for listening to me, Buttercup. It’s nice to know I have someone I can talk to.”
CHAPTER 13
Fritjof went to bed that night with an ache in his heart. Wylie’s confessions to him while he’d been in his horse form had nearly destroyed him. All Fritjof had wanted to do was shift and take Wylie into his arms.
The only thing that stopped him was that Wylie seemed to find comfort with his horse. That, and Fritjof feared if Wylie knew it was him, he would have been mad. As much as he had tried to keep his heart safe, Fritjof didn’t think he was doing a very good job of it.
In only a week, he was already falling in love. Then again, Fritjof wasn’t sure he’d ever had a chance when it came to Wylie. The man was pure joy to be around. He never let his own problems affect others. With the exception of him and maybe Tess, Fritjof was fairly sure no one else knew how truly sad Wylie was.
If that meant allowing Wylie to take comfort from his horse, he’d gladly give him that. Even allowing him to think Fritjof was a female and letting him call him Buttercup.
He rolled his eyes at that. Of all the names. Worse, Hrafn now knew, which probably meant Teagan knew, and who knew how many others at this point.
“Oh fuck,” he softly cursed. There was no way the others wouldn’t tell Wylie as soon as they saw him. Fritjof would have to get to Hrafn first thing in the morning and find out who he told so he could stop anyone from telling Wylie or he was going to be in a world of trouble for not admitting it was him in his horse form.
“I swear, I only told T
eagan,” Hrafn insisted. “But why are you keeping this from Wylie?”
That was a hard one. Logically, the longer he kept it from Wylie, the more angry he would be at Fritjof when he finally learned the truth. That being said, Fritjof desperately wanted to find a way to get closer to Wylie, but he wasn’t sure how to do that.
In general, he’d kept away from people since that raid. Even when he’d helped to save druid families over the years, he’d kept his distance if they came to live with him and the others. The only people he ever let in were his friends and that was only because they’d been best friends since they were toddlers.
For whatever reason, Wylie was comfortable with Fritjof’s horse. If it gave Wylie some happiness, then it seemed like a reasonable way to get to know the man who had somehow already found a way to burrow into Fritjof’s heart.
At least, that’s what he was telling himself, despite that nasty inner voice calling him stupid.
“Just please, don’t tell anyone else, especially Wylie,” Fritjof begged Hrafn.
“Okay, but I don’t think Wylie is going to appreciate it when he figures out it’s you,” Hrafn told him.
Fritjof could only pray Wylie would forgive him. “Thanks. Do you know where Teagan is?”
“He was still sleeping when I came out to take care of the horses, but I imagine he’s at breakfast by now.” Hrafn laid down fresh hay in the last stall he’d mucked out. “If you see him, will you let him know I’ll just be a few more minutes? I just need to clean up and change clothes.”
“Sure,” Fritjof told him as he left the barn and headed back to the house. Teagan hadn’t been in the kitchen when he’d come out here to look for Hrafn, but the ones who were there didn’t laugh at him or look at him funny, which probably meant they didn’t know about Wylie’s nickname for him.
His friends were great, but there’s no way they wouldn’t haze him for his new nickname. Hell, if the roles were reversed, Fritjof would have laughed his ass off, so he couldn’t exactly blame them.
Rushing into the house, hoping by some miracle Wylie wasn’t in the kitchen yet, Fritjof pushed open the door to the kitchen, relief suffusing him as he didn’t see Wylie, but Teagan was there.
The laughter in Teagan’s eyes as he glanced up at him, told Fritjof all he needed to know. Yes, Teagan knew, and he found it funny. But since he didn’t laugh out loud, nor did anyone else, Fritjof was fairly certain he hadn’t said anything to the others.
“Not to worry, Fritjof, your secret is safe with me,” Teagan told him.
“What secret?” at least three people asked at the same time, but it was the fourth, the one who’d just come into the kitchen who had Fritjof’s stomach drop.
Wylie.
Fear coursed through him as Fritjof had no clue what to say that wouldn’t make things even worse between them. But then, unexpectedly, Teagan came over and leaned in to whisper in Wylie’s ear, making his voice just loud enough for Fritjof to hear him.
“Fritjof had been training out near the paddock and he accidentally scared Buttercup.” Teagan glanced over at Fritjof, his amusement at the name for Fritjof to see. “It caused Buttercup to run to the far end of the paddock and she won’t let Hrafn or Fritjof anywhere near her.”
Was it really necessary to emphasize the female notation in all of this? Fritjof didn’t think so, then again, since he definitely would have done the same, it was hard to be upset with Teagan for teasing him.
Knowing he needed to get to the far end of the paddock before Wylie, who seemed ready to run out of the house, Fritjof reached out, needing the contact in human form for a moment. “I swear, I didn’t mean to scare her. I tripped and…” He shrugged, not wanting to make the explanation too elaborate. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”
Then he left. He raced across the house to the far side entrance. That way, if Wylie did go out right away to check on Buttercup, he wouldn’t see Fritjof running in the same direction and then wonder where he’d gone. Thankfully, on the west side of the house, where he’d exited, there was a copse of trees that would hide his movements all the way to far end of the paddock.
When Teagan had come up with that story, Fritjof had nearly kissed him. Not like a real kiss, just a thank you. For not only had he given Fritjof a reason for the secret that hopefully Wylie would be able to forgive him for, but it gave him an excuse to be as far away from prying eyes as possible.
Yesterday, he’d been lucky no one else had seen him with Wylie, otherwise they might have said something. For all he knew, someone had and there was still a chance Wylie would find out before Fritjof was ready to tell him. But now he’d have a chance to keep anyone else from seeing them together and saying something.
Leaping over the paddock fence, Fritjof shifted before he had even landed on the other side. Good thing too, for not even five minutes went by before Wylie called his name.
“Buttercup,” he called loudly enough to be heard, but with a gentleness in his voice so as not to spook Buttercup any further.
Fritjof cringed internally at having to act like a skittish horse, when nothing could be further from the truth. He put himself twenty feet from the fence line. Close enough for Wylie to talk to him, yet far enough away that it would appear as if Buttercup was too afraid to get any closer.
“Hey girl,” Wylie said as he came closer to the fence. “I hear you had a bit of a fright. But it’s okay now.”
Fritjof took two steps closer, but that was all. Why? He honestly couldn’t say. But he’d been around enough skittish horses to know none of them just shook it off that quickly.
That he wasn’t really a horse, but a shifter, should have meant he found the whole process ridiculous, and he did, yet, there he was, trying to make Wylie feel as if he were able to talk Buttercup down from her fear. He seriously needed to get his head examined.
“If it helps, I think Fritjof feels bad about scaring you, sweet girl.” Fritjof tried hard not to stomp his feet at the way Wylie seemed to constantly call him a girl. Talk about a blow to his manhood.
As irritating as that was, Fritjof did take another two steps closer to Wylie. There Wylie was, basically emasculating Fritjof, while he was doing everything in his power to make Wylie feel better about himself. No way every one of his friends wouldn’t be laughing their asses off if they could see him at this moment.
But even that thought wasn’t enough to stop Fritjof from his mission. Wylie was worth a little teasing from his friends.
“I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Buttercup. I’ll protect you.” Wylie’s soft tone was so damn enticing, Fritjof had a hard time not just going to him for one of those amazing hugs he’d received yesterday.
If only he’d realized how special Wylie was the moment they’d met instead of being so stubborn. Sure, his mother had been devastated by the loss of her husband, but he’d never gone back to check on her after that. For all he knew, she’d found someone new to love. Discovered there was life after tragedy. Something Fritjof was just now beginning to understand.
He took a half dozen steps closer this time. The need to be near Wylie too strong to play this game for long.
“That’s it, my pretty girl. You can trust me. I’ll give you the comfort you need to make things better,” Wylie practically cooed.
Fuck if that didn’t sound better than anything Valhalla could possibly offer. Done trying to be skittish, Fritjof went right up to Wylie. He nudged his nose first against Wylie’s hand, encouraging him to pet him, then he rested his head on his shoulder like he had the other day.
Perfect.
“That’s my sweet Buttercup,” Wylie murmured as he stroked his hand along Fritjof’s neck. “I’ve got you, my pretty. No one’s ever going to hurt you while I’m around.”
Fritjof nuzzled closer, breathing in Wylie’s clean fresh scent. Now, if only he could find a way to connect with Wylie in his human form, everything would be perfect.
CHAPTER 14
“No,” Wylie was getting ti
red of arguing, but he was damned if he was going to allow the Fae to win. “According to what the prophecy seems to say, we will have to work together at Samhain to seal the Veil.”
Cullen shrugged. “Yeah, we know that. But that just means we have to perform the ritual together.”
Frustrated and wishing he could go spend some time with Buttercup, Wylie was ready to scream. It had been two weeks since Fritjof had accidently scared the sweet horse and so far his sweet beauty would only allow him anywhere near her.
But training to use his powers was too important to not practice every day. That his friends didn’t always feel the same only served to piss him off. Sure, the Fae were after them in hopes of stopping them from performing the rituals, but if they ever discovered Tess, all hell would break loose.
The Fae would descend on them in droves to get to her. If that happened, the only way they had any chance of defeating them would be to work together. Not just to perform the ritual, but to defend those they loved, as well as any other humans who got in the Fae’s way, because it would take time for them to perform a ritual strong enough to seal the hole the Fae would open up to get to them.
“From what you’ve said, for the stronger Fae to get through the Veil, the opening has to be fairly large, right?” he asked.
Dermot nodded. “Yeah. So far, none of them have managed to actually make it through before we closed it.”
“What if they find a way to create an opening that would allow them all to come through?” This was Wylie’s biggest fear. “Would us doing the ritual be able to close something that big?”
This time Dermot shrugged. “I have no idea. Like I said, so far, they haven’t been able to make it wide enough to do that. But, based on how big it was the last time they decided to punch a hole in it, I would say it would be a challenge for us to close it.”