War of Hearts

by S. Young

  “Yes,” she admitted, drawing his surprised gaze. Her eyes were bright with regret and grief. “I think they did. When I was a kid, there were times I’d get upset about being different. I just wanted to be normal.”

  “Understandable.” Conall couldn’t imagine growing up without people like himself around. “Your parents were human. If you’d grown up in a pack, you would never have felt ‘other.’ You would have been accepted. Not that I’m saying your parents didnae accept you.”

  “No, I get you. And you’re right. I wanted to be like my parents, to be human. Once when I was twelve, not too long before … before they died … I pushed a friend out of the way of a stray baseball. It would have knocked her out. It came at us with such a force, so I took the hit, knowing it would barely hurt. There were too many witnesses from the game to mess with their minds about it. And the school made a huge fuss and my dad got mad at me. He said that no matter what, I couldn’t step in to save other people from bad things because it would only expose me, and people would come to take me away.”

  Her voice grew hollow, flat. “I cried so much because I hated that I couldn’t even save my friend without being told not to be myself. They hated seeing me in pain and that night, my mom told me something I’ve thought a lot on over the years.

  “She said that when I turned eighteen and I was old enough to make my own decisions, I’d have the opportunity to learn about who I really was, and when I had that information, it would be up to me how I used it. It would be up to me to make the right choice about my abilities. I didn’t know what she meant then …”

  “They knew,” Conall answered decisively. “They discovered what you are, Thea.”

  He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I think so too. Now we’ll never know for sure.”

  “One thing is for sure: Ashforth thinks he knows what you are.” Conall remembered the drug that hurt Thea. “The drug? Does it contain pure iron?”

  “No. But I heard something when I was his little lab rat. He thought I was unconscious because he’d taken a lot of blood from me. But my blood regenerates faster than a human’s. Much faster.” She turned in her seat, angling her body toward him. “So we all have iron in our blood, right?”

  “Right.”

  “But it’s got oxygen in it. Like iron ore. Which is possibly why iron ore doesn’t affect me. There’s iron in food too. That doesn’t bother me. What I heard this lab guy that Ashforth had hired to run tests on me explain was that injecting me with an iron supplement overwhelmed my system while my blood tried to oxidize it. It isn’t like pure iron, which would probably paralyze me indefinitely if I were injected with it. Instead, it was … well, it burns. Like fire running through my veins. And when I was weak from the room he’d lined with pure iron, my body struggled to heal as fast as it normally would.”

  “That’s why it didnae work when I gave it to you.” He flinched at the reminder he’d inflicted pain on her. “You’re stronger outside the room. Your blood oxidized it within an hour.”

  “Exactly.”

  It was then it truly hit Conall just how powerful Thea was. She had one weakness. That was it. One weakness. There was something comforting about the fact that Thea Quinn was so incredibly difficult to kill.

  A true immortal.

  She’d been alone so long because of it, not trusting anyone. But she’d trusted him. With her story, with her weaknesses. Conall owed her the same.

  “You should know the drug mutes my ability to track you.”

  She was quiet a moment and when he glanced at her, her expression was blank.

  “I have no idea why. All I know is that my ability only works on sentient beings.”

  “Sentient beings?” Thea frowned. “It works on animals too?”

  “Aye. When Callie was younger, she would guilt me into looking for people’s lost pets whenever she saw a poster for a missing dog or cat. She once had me track down a bloody guinea pig.”

  Thea giggled. Conall grinned at the sound. “That’s hilarious.”

  “Aye, well, that’s Callie for you.”

  “Tell me more about her.”

  He grunted at having the conversation turned on him and his family.

  “What? I want to know who it is I’m saving.”

  The reminder he’d hand Thea over to Ashforth in exchange for his sister caused a flare of anger he had to forcefully quell. “She’s fierce,” he said, deciding he owed her this too. “Much like our mum. Callie is also an alpha and was the pack’s lead warrior before she got sick.”

  “She’ll be strong again soon.”

  A flood of confusion hit Conall. He was desperate to see Callie well again, but he dreaded the sacrifice it would take. “Aye. Well, she’s single-minded and opinionated enough. She’s also the bloody nosiest wolf I’ve ever met.” He smirked, remembering the many times she’d interfered in the love lives of their pack. Sometimes she triumphed, sometimes she just pissed people off. His smirk fell. “She cares too much.”

  “Too much? Is there such a thing?”

  “Aye. Callie cares about everything. Not just our pack and our lands, but everyone in the entire universe. She jumps from one crusade to the next. Sometimes it’s personal, an old university friend dying from cancer, or something bigger than us all. Like human trafficking, climate change, animal cruelty.” He looked at Thea, who was frowning. “It hurts her. I see how caring that much about everything hurts her.”

  Thea gave him a sad smile. “You’re in awe of her.”

  Conall nodded, grief clogging his throat as he turned back to the road. The world would be such a dark place without Caledonia MacLennan in it.

  “It’s brave to care that much, Conall. I’m glad I have the chance to save someone like her.”

  His fists tightened around the wheel as a sharp, knifelike pain slashed across his chest.

  “Do you want her to be with James once she’s healed?” Thea asked.

  Uncomfortable talking about his sister’s romantic life, he merely grunted again.

  She chuckled, the sound throaty and far too appealing. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  Conall sighed. “It’s not a no. James is a good man. Their match is unusual—he’s a beta, she an alpha. An alpha male often marries a lower-ranked female, but a female usually looks for her equal or stronger. Yet, for them it works. He’ll … well … he’ll love her the way she deserves.”

  “Good.”

  Conall could feel Thea eyeing him and when he glanced quickly at her, he saw speculation in her expression.

  “You said you’ve never been in love. There was really no one you felt like … what do you guys call it? Mating with?”

  Sienna Canid’s face infiltrated Conall’s thoughts, and he nearly swerved off the road with the jolt it gave him.

  Jesus fuck.

  Sienna.

  He’d fucking forgotten.

  Sienna.

  The betrothal.

  Everything.

  What the bloody hell?

  “Sorry. Too personal?”

  A tight feeling crawled across Conall’s chest at the realization he was supposed to be getting engaged upon his return home. Before he’d left Torridon, the idea of betrothal hadn’t touched him apart from giving him satisfaction that the pack’s future would be assured.

  Now … now he felt trapped.

  Fuck.

  “Conall?”

  He threw Thea an impatient look. Bloody lass was ruining everything. “No,” he bit out. “And a mating differs from marriage. Most wolves marry as finding your true mate is rare.”

  “Rare?”

  Deciding that explaining pack life was as good a distraction as any, he replied, “Aye. My parents were true mates but they’re the only true mates our pack has seen in a century. It’s an inexplicable bond and as rare as it is, it’s also rare to see a true mating ever dissolve. The love of true mates is said to be as passionate at the end as it is from day one. My parents’ relationship attes
ted to it. But most wolves, like humans, enjoy relationships and marriage. Some pack marriages are arranged for political or financial reasons, especially if a pack is wealthy.” He should tell her about Sienna, but the words got caught in his throat. He cleared it. “But for most werewolves, marriage is, like it is for humans, practiced in love.”

  “Arranged marriages, huh? That sounds archaic.”

  His mind conjured Sienna again. Reserved, dutiful Sienna. From what he’d surmised of her so far, Conall had liked her, had even been attracted to her. Now the thought of her left him cold. “Aye, they seem to work. Sometimes they fall apart, especially if one finds their true mate.”

  “Arranged marriages sound like a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “So are many human arranged marriages.”

  “I don’t disagree.” He felt her eyes on his face. “So how does a wolf know when he’s met his true mate? Do sparks literally fly?” she teased.

  He snorted. “Not that I’m aware of. My father told me it’s hard to explain. He said he just knew when he met my mum she was his mate. There was a certainty in his mind that no one on earth could persuade him otherwise. After two mates have sex for the first time, their scents become intertwined, and it signals to other wolves so they know not to trespass upon another wolf’s territory.” He flashed a grin at Thea’s indignation. “That goes both ways. It’s not just about a male marking his female. A female wolf is just as territorial of her mate. Sometimes more so.”

  Conall remembered the way his parents had been around one another. So much passion and love, he’d often been embarrassed by it growing up. Now he’d give anything to see them laughing and cuddling like smitten teenagers.

  When a comfortable silence fell between them again, Conall glanced over at Thea. Suddenly he saw an image of Thea in a faceless man’s arms, finding comfort after her escape from Ashforth, and the thought made Conall restless.

  No, not restless.

  It made him jealous as fuck.

  There.

  He’d admitted it to himself.

  And now he needed to know. He shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t his business. “What about you?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “You said you’ve never been in love but that doesnae mean you’ve never tried.”

  Thea shrugged and glanced out her window. “I tried once. Not love, just … connection, I guess. It was about a year after I got away. The guy was human, and we bartended together.” She gave a snort of joyless laughter. “I was so worried about losing control, being too strong, hurting him that …”

  Conall’s gut tightened. “What?”

  “Nothing. It just wasn’t very good.”

  Don’t ask, don’t fucking ask. “And you never tried again?” Prick. Moron. Masochist. Nosy fucking bastard.

  To his surprise, Thea answered. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to try again.”

  Feeling her attention, he glanced at her and she was glaring at him, an attractive blush cresting high on her cheeks.

  “Can we change the subject now?”

  Conall grinned despite himself. “You asked first.”

  “I didn’t ask you about sex.”

  The word hung heavily in the air between them, and Conall found he couldn’t think of another subject to distract them with. Instead, they fell into a silence that wasn’t as comfortable as it had been before.

  The hotel at Neumünster had taken inspiration from its Scandinavian neighbors. The reception was a huge, open-plan space with a quirky mix of industrial and natural materials. There were exposed pipes along the ceiling, but a beautiful fire on a partition wall. The fire was low to the ground, built between two pieces of marble, the top part of which had holes cut into it where the firewood was stored.

  A massive corner sofa sat opposite the fire, with bean cushions and a large wooden coffee table. There was a reception desk near the fire, a bar, and a shop selling everything from wine to clothing.

  Beyond the reception was another bar and restaurant and all the rooms were on the two floors above.

  Conall watched Thea take in the surroundings with a quiet look of pleasure. Her expression made him book a suite. “With twin beds instead of a king,” he requested.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” The blond receptionist was almost as well built as Conall. “Our suites only come with a king.” He’d flicked an inquisitive look at Thea, obviously wondering why Conall wouldn’t want to share a bed with her.

  He buried an agitated snarl. “But the room has a pull-out sofa?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was nothing technically to stop him booking two rooms. He trusted Thea not to run. But for her safety, she should stay with him.

  “That’s fine.” He’d take the sofa.

  Once they had their room sorted, Conall booked them a table at the restaurant and went one step further by insisting on buying Thea a pair of pajamas in the hotel gift shop.

  “You don’t have to do that.” She waved away his offer.

  “Do you want to sleep in your jeans?”

  She wrinkled her adorable nose. “Well … okay, then.” Thea grinned up at him, her eyes dancing. “Thanks.”

  Conall quickly looked away. His heart was beating too fast.

  It was that fucking conversation in the car.

  “Pick something.” He was gruff.

  Things only worsened when they strode into the room. The bed was luxurious and inviting and the sofa was absolutely not. His legs would dangle over the bloody thing.

  “I’ll take the sofa,” Thea said, dropping her rucksack on it.

  “Like hell.” He grabbed the backpack and dumped it on the bed. “You’ll take the bloody bed.”

  “I’m shorter. I’ll take the sofa.”

  “You’ll take the bed and be grateful for it,” he snapped.

  She scowled at him. “What crawled up your ass in the last twenty minutes, huh?”

  “I’m sorry, I didnae realize offering you the bed was a bad thing.” He was being deliberately obtuse, and they both knew it.

  “It’s not the bed, it’s your tone.”

  “I dinnae have a tone.”

  “There.” She gestured to him. “That is a tone.”

  Fuck, they sounded like his mum and dad when they argued. Like an old married couple.

  Conall rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the thick bristle of a beard forming. He needed to shave, and eat, and he needed to sleep.

  And he needed to not be a bastard to Thea just because he was totally and utterly fucked in the head. The big one and the little one. “Sorry,” he sighed. “Just restless from driving so long.”

  “I told you I’d take a turn.”

  “It’s fine, lass. I’m going to wash up before we head down to dinner.”

  The restaurant was busy with moody low lighting and a Scandinavian casualness in its simple furnishings. As they sat opposite each other at the small table Conall dwarfed, renewed tension fell between them.

  Thea was the first to break the silence as they waited on their food. “Tell me more about Pack MacLennan.”

  So Conall spoke of his people and of Torridon, of life in the Scottish Highlands, and his role as alpha and CEO. “Sometimes I tire of all the paperwork but it’s a small price to pay for our blessings.”

  “I can’t exactly imagine you stuck in an office, signing contracts and going through accounts.” She smiled wryly at the thought.

  “You’re not wrong. I visit the distillery as much as possible. I like to help there when I can. And my delta, Mhairi, runs our fishing company out of Loch Torridon. Sometimes I go out and help her crew. I also volunteer with Scottish Mountain Rescue. Anything to be out of doors.”

  “And to save lives.” Her expression was searching, serious, and worse, admiring. “Don’t sell yourself short, Conall. You do it to help people.”

  He shrugged. “I’m stronger. I can help where others cannae, I suppose.”

  “So you’re not just about your pack,” she tease
d.

  “Dinnae be fooled, Thea. Callie was the one who talked me into volunteering.”

  She laughed, and Conall watched.

  It was hard not to.

  The tension lingered between them as they seemed unable to look anywhere but at each other. Yet conversation was easy as they ate, sharing childhood stories and more laughter than he thought possible after the violence of the last few days. Only days between them and yet it felt longer. Much longer.

  “Without the memory of my parents and of Amanda, I think I might have become something different.” Thea tried to hide the sudden bleakness in her eyes by lowering them to the table. “As it is, you know I don’t always do the right thing.”

  Conall knew instinctively she was talking about her thievery. He’d judged her for it, inwardly and outwardly. What a wanker he was sometimes.

  “I’ve never had to survive day to day with no money the way you have. In fact, I’ve been lucky enough to never worry about money at all. I’ve no right to judge you, Thea. I cannae say I wouldnae have done the same if our roles were reversed. And we both know you could have used your talent for mind trickery, to live a life of luxury, if you’d wanted.”

  Thea gave him a sexy little smirk. “Don’t think too highly of me, Conall. Remember how this ends.”

  Like he could forget. “Aye. I remember.”

  “So your grandfather started the whisky company?” She abruptly changed the subject. “That’s where all the money comes from?”

  When he explained GlenTorr’s history and spoke more of its unexpected success, Thea admitted she’d never tasted it. Upon hearing that, Conall led her to the bar after dinner.

  Sure enough, they had a bottle of his whisky.

  “You have to try it.”

  “I’ve never tried any whisky,” she confessed.

  “Well now, you definitely have to try it.” Conall ordered one whisky with ice and the other straight.

  “How come I get ice?” Thea frowned.

  “Waters it down a wee bit. Trust me, you’ll be glad for it.”

  “If you can drink it straight, I can drink it straight.”

  Conall grinned at her indignation. “Fine.” He changed his order.