War of Hearts

by S. Young

  “She’s fine,” Callie assured him. “I’ll drive.”

  He shook his head. “I need something to focus on or I’ll go mad.”

  His sister nodded and got into the passenger seat instead.

  The desire to keep glancing back at Thea was great, but he forced his eyes on the road and followed the conspicuous cavalcade of cars leaving Loch Isla. Thankfully, Castle Cara had been built on a low-level loch, far from towns and amenities. There wasn’t anything but tight, single-track roads leading downward to Loch Isla until your ears popped from the drop in altitude. No witnesses.

  “James will anonymously call the emergency services once we’re clear,” Callie told him.

  He nodded.

  “Fae, Conall?” she asked tentatively.

  “I know it sounds insane … but there’s no other explanation for what she can do.” He refused to say could. Thea was still alive.

  There was a chance.

  But if not …

  His hands clenched around the steering wheel.

  Silence fell over them.

  The bite would work.

  It had to.

  He did not want to prepare himself for a lifetime of fucking emptiness without Thea Quinn.

  The drive northward was just over an hour but he and the others who were heading back to Torridon sped where they could, as long as it didn’t endanger any humans. Still, Conall was grateful to see the turnoff at Kinlochewe, signaling they were near home.

  Callie glanced into the back seat, something Conall hadn’t dared to do during the awful silent drive.

  He felt his sister go rigid and fear swamped his lungs. He looked at Callie.

  Her eyes had widened.

  She’s gone, he prepared himself. She’s going to tell you Thea’s gone.

  Callie slowly turned to him, shock glittering in her pale gray gaze. “Conall,” she breathed.

  “What?” he bit out.

  “Her … her cheeks are flushed.”

  He blinked. “What?” He pulled the rearview mirror down, angling it to take in Thea across the back seats.

  Sure enough, every inch of her skin on display was flushed, feverish and dewy with sweat.

  Conall felt that buried hope take hold again as he looked at his sister.

  Slowly, a smile kicked up the corners of Callie’s mouth. “Fever: the first sign of the change.”

  31

  So it had come to this.

  There was an afterlife for Thea, and it was hell. Or some kind of hell dimension where her skin was constantly on fire, slick with sweat, her mouth dry, burning, desperate for relief. In the darkness of the fever world, a black figure, a demon, waited. It was mammoth, long, crooked limbs, massive claws, and every inch black as tar. Yellow eyes blinked from its face to match the sharp yellow teeth.

  Thea kept running, tangled in walls of arms that reached out to her, every touch burning as they tore at her scalding flesh. Every step seemed to take centuries, and the demon was always there, following, taking its sadistic time to catch her.

  The worst part of the hell wasn’t the sweltering heat or the demon or the walls of arms, but the soft murmur she could hear out somewhere beyond the fiery darkness. A beloved voice, deep and soothing, whispered words of love and reassurance. Memories. They couldn’t be anything more because he couldn’t be here with her. He was too good. Too decent.

  She’d tear the roasting pits of hell to shreds if they dared to keep him here.

  The wall of arms pulled on Thea’s wrist so hard it broke. A scream wrenched out of her as the arms tore at every inch of her being.

  Still she heard the murmurings of reassurance beyond the torrid hell.

  It didn’t stop her from screaming bloody murder as she felt every bone in her body break.

  32

  Conall’s heart thudded hard and fast, every beat for Thea.

  He stared, not quite believing what he was seeing.

  Lying panting amongst his sweat-soaked and torn bedsheets was a werewolf, smaller than him, only somewhat larger than your average wolf. Her fur was dark brown with flecks of caramel, to match the unusual gold of her eyes.

  She pulled her muzzle back and growled at the people standing around the edge of the bed.

  Conall, Callie, and Brianna.

  “Thea,” he said her name softly, taking a tentative step toward her.

  Her ears twitched as she cocked her head, watching his approach.

  Her muzzle wrinkled again with another little growl.

  “Thea, it’s me. It’s Conall.”

  The last seventy-two hours had been the worst of Conall’s life as he’d watched over Thea through the feverish and painful transformation. Until Brianna arrived, he’d been afraid to even hope that his bite was taking effect, but the doctor had assured him that every sign Thea showed was that of the change.

  Conall had never witnessed someone transform from a wolf bite. Almost every hour, he thought his mate was fucking dying from it. He’d never imagined anyone’s body could reach the temperatures Thea’s had without expiring. Instead, she’d writhed, coated in sweat, her face scrunched in pain and fear—Jesus fuck, the room had reeked from the stench of her terror, tearing Conall’s gut.

  “It’s one of the most prolonged changes I’ve witnessed,” Brianna had said the previous night, concern marring her brow. “I can only assume it’s because she wasn’t human … and because she was dying.”

  “But she will make it?” Conall demanded.

  His doctor had placed her hand on his arm. “I hope so.”

  Conall had almost fallen into despair until the early hours of the morning when Thea woke him from his bedside vigil with her moaning. There were tears on her cheeks as she writhed on the bed, and then he heard the ugly noise as her shoulder visibly popped.

  From there … fuck, from there Callie and Brianna had come flying into the room and Brianna held Conall back as Thea’s body began to break before his very eyes.

  “It’s normal,” the doc assured him. “It’s the first change.”

  Thea’s screams tore through his heart, powerlessness crushing his ribs as she went through three hours of agony. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, a bright golden sunlight flared from her body, blinding them all.

  When the light finally diminished, Thea was a wolf, lying on his bed, panting.

  Alive.

  But did she recognize him?

  She growled, low and deep from her belly, and he faltered. “Thea,” he whispered. “Thea love, it’s me. Conall.”

  Her ears twitched again and her snout lifted into the air, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed.

  Her intelligent gold eyes lit with recognition and she whined, shuffling along the bed toward him.

  Emotion overwhelmed Conall as he crossed the distance between them and held out his hand to her. Wolf Thea sniffed and then licked it … and then nuzzled into him. Conall laughed, blinking back the sting of wet in his eyes, as he slid his hands into her velvet fur and kissed the top of her head. She made a little chuffing sound and buried deeper into his hold.

  33

  At first all Thea could feel was terror and discombobulation. She recognized the room she was in and the people were familiar, but she didn’t recognize herself.

  Her vision was sharper, her peripheral vision wider, and there was a film of color over it. Not to mention she could see a snout where her nose should be, see fur-covered forelegs where arms should be.

  When the tall man with the scar said her name, a wash of familiarity flooded over her and she wanted to go to him, but a much bigger part of her was scared out of her fucking mind.

  He kept saying her name over and over.

  And she kept growling at him in warning like a beast.

  But then … something started to niggle at her as she looked up at him. Memories. A castle. A fire. A man stabbing her in the heart. Then this man’s face. Tears in his eyes.

  The words “bite” falling from her lips.<
br />
  “Thea.”

  Conall!

  His name came to her in a burst of realization.

  Conall was a werewolf, and he’d bitten her to save her.

  She moved toward him and he reached out a hand. His scent was the final piece of the puzzle. It wasn’t just his scent. It was hers.

  Her mate.

  It was like rushing through a tunnel of memories and Thea was herself again. But she was something else too. After Devon had stabbed her in the heart, all she could think about through the pain was the story Vik had told her of the fae who was bitten by her werewolf consort. She’d conveyed enough to Conall that he’d understood. Thea remembered thinking she was in hell, but it had obviously been the change.

  Fuck, it had been awful.

  But now … she laughed inside her head as Conall hugged her in her wolf form. Burying into him, she smiled to herself. She was alive. And she was a wolf! How weird! How wonderful.

  Conall pulled away and turned to his sister Callie. She stood with a woman Thea didn’t recognize. “I’m going to shift. Take her for a run. Is that all right?”

  The stranger nodded. “She needs to get used to her new body, so take your time with her.”

  The two women left and Conall grinned down at Thea as he began to strip naked. She made a moaning sound, which came out like a throaty growl. Her mate laughed. “There’s enough time for that later. In fact, we have a perfectly extraordinary but mortal life ahead of us.”

  Understanding what he meant, Thea would have wept if she’d been in her human form. She no longer had to worry about an eternity of loneliness. Nor about running from Ashforth, who was finally dead and gone.

  But mostly she didn’t have to concern herself with the heartbreaking reality of staying forever young while Conall aged and died. They would age together. They would have a family. Hopefully.

  She laughed to herself. She was perhaps the only person on the planet who wanted to grow old.

  Thea watched with fascination as Conall’s body morphed into his wolf. He didn’t seem to feel the pain she remembered feeling, and a little uneasiness shifted in her gut. Would it always be painful for her because she wasn’t born to it?

  And then she became aware of a new feeling, one that emanated from Conall. His energy, one that tasted of his spice, earthiness, and her mingled scent, one that felt like a solid wall of power moving toward her, made contact. It surrounded Thea, pressing in around her. It was his alpha energy, much more magnified now that she was wolf.

  It eased a little as Wolf Conall padded across the room toward her and licked at her face. Thea laughed and it came out as a hoarse bark. Conall gestured with a jerk of his head for her to come off the bed.

  Shakily, Thea flexed her muscles and stood on her four trembling limbs.

  It was the weirdest feeling in the world.

  “Dinnae think.”

  They both turned to see Callie standing in the doorway, her gaze on Thea. “Dinnae think about it, Thea. Just trust your instincts.”

  Taking that advice, Thea relaxed and let the wolf take over. With a graceful, swift movement, she jumped off the bed on all fours, laughing at the feeling.

  The wheezing, joyful sound made Callie chuckle as she pushed the bedroom door wide open. “Happy running.”

  Conall padded over to Thea. He was much bigger than she was, powerfully built. He nuzzled his face against hers and her heart squeezed inside her wolf’s chest. With a low, excited growl, he gave her one last nudge and ran ahead.

  Instinct completely took over and Thea ran after him, leaping down his staircase with ease and out the front door James was holding open.

  Conall waited in the driveway for her and then took off again.

  She ran.

  And she was lightning fast.

  Thea kept up with Conall and he made a sound of approval in his throat as they tore across the road and up into the tree-covered hills. Then Thea pushed her new limbs to their limits, charging ahead of her mate, delighting in the sounds and smells of the surrounding land. Everything was just … more.

  Thea didn’t know how long they ran.

  Sometimes Conall would catch up, sometimes he’d fall behind. There weren’t trees everywhere, and Thea felt a little warier out in the open of the Torridon hills, but the view beyond them overpowered that wariness.

  She drew to a halt. From here she could see where Loch Torridon fed into the Atlantic Ocean. It was breathtaking.

  Soon Conall herded her back toward the trees. Running like this, it differed from when she’d been fae.

  She wasn’t as fast.

  But this was better.

  It felt like soaring.

  When they reached the trees, the breath was knocked out of her suddenly. She rolled among the brush and bracken of the woodlands to find her mate had just wrestled her to the ground. A primitive feeling replaced shock.

  He wanted to play.

  Delighted, Thea lunged at him.

  They wrestled in the woods, rolling, pinning, nipping playfully at each other.

  Much to her bemusement, she discovered that although she was faster, Conall was now stronger. He seemed to take far too much pleasure in that discovery. She snarled at him as he pinned her beneath his oversized paws, and the bastard gave her a wolfy grin, his tongue hanging out comically.

  It was hard to stay mad at him.

  When he let her up, Thea sniffed around the woods, taking her time learning her new senses. She could smell the different plants and trees that grew there, smelled the different soils, the insects, the animals hiding from them. She could smell her mate stronger than any other scent.

  And she could hear his heart as well as her own.

  Moreover, she could hear the little beating hearts of the animals who waited for the large predators to leave. In the distance, Thea heard music playing from a house.

  It was a marvel.

  Eventually, however, weariness set in. Sensing it, Conall nudged her and began to lead her back toward his home.

  Once they’d returned, Thea stepped over the threshold and halted at the sight of the people gathered in his sitting room. She recognized faces from the pack meeting. Uncertainty filled her as they peered at her in shock and curiosity.

  Conall brushed against her, drawing her attention to him, and she watched as he lunged upstairs. Glad to be away from the scrutiny of the others, Thea followed him into his bedroom.

  Watching from the doorway, she felt the air crackle as he shifted. In less than a minute, he was human again. And naked. He watched her, affection warm in his eyes as he pulled on his clothes and then came to kneel, their faces level. Conall caressed her fur. It was a lovely feeling, a tingle that sparked all the way down her spine. No wonder Wolf Conall had liked it when she’d petted him.

  “It’s time to shift, Thea love.”

  Worry tightened her gut.

  What if she couldn’t?

  What if she was stuck as a wolf forever?

  A musky scent filled the air, and she realized it was coming from her. What on earth?

  His nostrils flared. “Dinnae be frightened, lass.”

  Oh.

  So that’s how he always knew when she was afraid.

  Jesus H. Christ.

  “Imagine yourself shifting, push that feeling into your limbs. Your body will take care of the rest.”

  Thea padded back from him and glanced down at her forelegs. This was still so weird. She wondered if it would ever stop being strange.

  Doing as Conall instructed, she imagined the change, and she strained to force it into her limbs. Nothing happened. She let out an exasperated whimper.

  “You’re trying too hard. Gentle. Easy.”

  Nodding to herself, Thea attempted it again, this time nudging the thought toward her wolf’s body.

  A sharp pleasure-pain burned through her as her back cracked, the same feeling popping around her body as it transformed. Relief flooded her as she realized it wasn’t agonizing. Not like t
he original shift had been.

  Her head juddered as her muzzle disappeared, her canines and extra wolf teeth disappearing like magic into her gums. Like they’d never been there. She pushed her human fingers against her gums, prodding, but nope.

  Her mouth was as it always had been.

  As Thea drew back her hand, something that was missing made her heart pause.

  Thea lifted her hands to her face, turning her wrists inward.

  No scars.

  Her skin was perfectly smooth.

  “Thea,” Conall’s voice was hoarse.

  Looking over her shoulder at him, she saw his shocked gaze on her back.

  “Thea.” His pale eyes flew to hers. “They’re gone.”

  Her attention dropped to her naked belly.

  The scar there was gone too.

  Her fingers brushed over the smooth skin.

  What the …

  Launching to her feet, she nearly fell over, her limbs still weak from shifting. Conall rushed to haul her against him and she melted into his chest. Her fingers curled into his shirt as she stared up at him in confusion.

  Then she went rigid when she felt his hands coast down her back.

  There were no bumps or ridges.

  No scars.

  Thea pushed away from him, stumbling toward his bathroom where she knew there was a mirror. And sure enough, as she twisted to look, her back was smooth and scar-free.

  Conall appeared behind her and Thea turned to him. “I don’t understand.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “You’re werewolf now, Thea. Our bodies wouldnae scar from injuries caused by iron. As the change wiped out the poison created by the iron in your heart, I can only assume that same magic wiped away all traces of iron from your body. Including the scars made by it.”

  Ashforth was gone.

  He was really gone.

  “I get to start over,” she whispered, scared to believe it. It seemed too good to be true.

  Conall gave her a slow, sexy grin. “Aye, lass. And if you didnae guess it while we were out there”—he jerked his head toward the woods beyond the house—“you’re an alpha.”