Midnight Sky (The Wolf's Bane Saga Book 3)

by M. Katherine Clark

  To speak of his best friend in such a coy manner hurt Aedan’s heart. He had not heard that he had died. Their parting was sudden and every day Aedan begged his friend’s forgiveness for leaving. He would have been over eighty when he died as he was ten years older than Aedan. Overwhelming grief at his friend’s death encompassed him and he felt his throat tighten with unshed tears. Suddenly a calm like he had never felt before surrounded him. Looking over at his son, Caylean was looking right at him. Aedan could feel the calm he projected and smiled thanking him. Immediately, he felt the shadow of his son embrace him even though Caylean had not moved from his seat.

  “And when is this marriage to take place?” Alexina asked Galbraith.

  “At some time before the summer solstice,” Galbraith explained. “Father desires it to be done quickly. Relations with the Farquharson’s have nae been friendly recently.”

  “And your sister?” Isla asked. “Does she love him?”

  “She is a woman,” Galbraith scoffed. “She kens her duty.”

  Caylean’s blood boiled again and his eyes narrowed on Galbraith’s wine goblet as he lifted it to his lips. Once Galbraith took a drink, he spat it out forcefully, spraying it across the table on to Aedan’s armor.

  “Och, forgive me,” he apologized wiping his lips and looking into the wine goblet. “There are maggots.”

  “Maggots?” Alexina yelped. “In the wine?”

  Isla’s eyes snapped to her son as Caylean lifted his wine goblet and drank.

  “Mine is still sweet,” he replied.

  Isla stood and went to Galbraith, extending her hand to him.

  “Allow me,” she said. “It must have been the bottom of the barrel, I apologize. I will get you a fresh one.”

  “I thank you,” he handed it to her and turned back to Aedan who was wiping Galbraith’s spray off his leather overtunic. The men still carried their weapons and wore battle leathers. “Forgive me, Aedan.”

  “Och, nae worries, lad,” he replied. “It could have happened to any of us.”

  “Here, Galbraith, you can have mine,” Giorsal offered.

  “Thank you, my sweet, but Isla is bringing me a new one,” he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb causing Caylean to growl. Weylyn, seated next to him, leaned over.

  “You do yourself nae favors, Caylean,” he stated. “Be at ease, lad, and try no’ to cause any more issue. You donnae want to cause a war between us, or lose Giorsal completely.”

  “He is a liar and in need of a swift kick in the arse,” Caylean replied. Weylyn looked surprised.

  “Such language I have never kenned,” Weylyn said. “They speak of such in Erin?”

  “’Twas more of an… allegory,” Caylean explained. He could not tell his grandfather that during his two years in Erin, he had travelled, in a trance, to the future for a time and inhabited a druid from the eighteenth century becoming accustomed to their way of speaking.

  “Ah,” Weylyn answered. “Trust me then lad. This boy will get what he deserves, but it is nae your place to bestow it. Tristan, Aedan and I have discussed what we believe is happening.”

  “And Giorsal?” Caylean asked.

  “She is protected, of course,” Weylyn replied. “But she is unaware and I hope to keep it that way.”

  “She could be in danger from this…” he paused remembering he was no longer in the eighteenth century. “Human.” He opted for a descriptor.

  “Aye, but we have close eyes on her,” Weylyn explained. “And she can protect herself. She is strong, Caylean. But trust me, garmhac I would never let anything happen to her.”

  “I ken that,” he answered. “You have always taken care of all of us. We have truly felt your love all our lives.”

  Weylyn smiled fondly at him and patted his arm.

  “Your life is nae over, in fact I think the best is yet to come.”

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  After Weylyn’s counsel, Caylean refrained from casting frogs into Galbraith’s soup or worms into his venison. Soon the meal would end and afterwards, the men would share a cup of mead and the women would sit near them gossiping with some spiced wine, before sending Galbraith on his way. Caylean decided he could not stomach anymore of the human’s company, so when the women announced that the meal was ended and offered for them to all move to the more comfortable chairs in the hall, Caylean stood.

  “I had a long journey,” he began. “Alexina would you excuse me from the merrymaking? I desire a walk in the fresh air alone with my thoughts and then a long sleep.”

  “Of course,” Alexina replied. “We love that you are home, Caylean, but we do understand.” She side-glanced over to her daughter. “Do you desire anything more?”

  His eyes flashed to Giorsal but he did not give voice to his thoughts.

  “Nay, I thank you for a wonderful meal,” he said. “I have truly missed it. Tristan,” he looked to his Alpha who nodded once. “Mother, Father, seanair, Eithne.”

  “Caylean,” Giorsal called to him confused, tilting her head to one side in question. He turned to look at her as he stepped from the dais.

  “You enjoy Galbraith’s company too much to worry about me,” he said softly resigned. “I donnae desire to interrupt. Good eve, all.”

  Giorsal gasped for breath as she watched his retreating figure leave the keep. When the door shut behind him, she felt an odd tugging to follow him. Instead of listening to her heart, she turned to Galbraith and forced a smile.

  “Shall I pour you a cup of mead or spiced wine?” she asked.

  ***

  No one understood what he had been through. He had seen the future, he had travelled to the past, had trained as a druid and even had ink on his chest where he studied the dark arts. He thought he would feel a connection with his mother’s people. He believed he would find purpose to his life studying and training as a druid, but he felt more adrift than ever.

  His feet took him to their boulder and he sat watching the stars twinkle in the midnight sky. There was no moon that evening but Caylean enjoyed watching how the stars danced in the darkness. It was times like these he missed Dagda’s council. They would sit together sharing a cup of mead and he would talk about his day and what was on his mind. Dagda had become a surrogate father to him.

  “Dagda,” he breathed but his heart and mind cried for him. “What am I to do?”

  The standing stones were before him and taking a few steps towards them he entered his haven and called out again. “Dagda, I need your counsel.”

  “I do believe I should be leaving,” Galbraith said. “I thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

  “It was our pleasure, Galbraith,” Alexina replied. “It was wonderful to have you here.”

  “I thank you for your hospitality,” he answered bowing slightly. Giorsal shyly went up to her father.

  “Papa,” she said. “Would it be all right if I walked him through the woods?” Tristan eyed her but did not answer. “I promise I will nae leave the woods. I will nae go to his village. I… I am sorry for how I acted earlier. Please may I accompany him?”

  Taking a deep breath, Tristan looked up at Weylyn who subtly shook his head. Knowing Weylyn did not want Giorsal alone with the lad for more than two moments, he nodded.

  “Aye, Giorsal, but only for a short time. There and back, nae stops and stay on the path,” he said. “Promise?”

  Nodding enthusiastically, she reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa,” she replied.

  Racing to Galbraith she whispered in his ear, he smiled and took her arm. Saying good night to everyone, Galbraith and Giorsal stepped out of the keep and toward the forest path.

  “You let her go alone?” Weylyn demanded.

  “What sort of father would I be if I did that?” Tristan asked. “Of course she does nae go alone.”

  “You follow her?” Weylyn asked.

  “Naturally, but at a distance,” Tristan answered.

  “I go too,” Weylyn said
.

  “And me,” Aedan replied. “Have to keep you two in line.”

  ***

  Caylean knelt inside the stone circle and closed his eyes. Reverting into himself, he felt his soul leave his body and travel to the spirit realm. Foggy and heavy with lost souls, Caylean waded through the familiar territory. His mind calling for Dagda. Finally, he heard his mentor’s familiar voice.

  “Caylean, are you all right, lad?” Dagda called.

  “I need your counsel,” Caylean replied. Finally, the fog lifted and he found Dagda and the rest of his grove. “You came.”

  “Aye, your call was so strong all of our grove heard it,” Dagda answered. “What is wrong, lad. Are you hurt?”

  “Nay, I am sorry,” he replied. “I merely needed your advice.”

  Dagda looked at him concerned.

  “’Tis about Giorsal,” he whispered. Dagda’s mouth opened in an ah but he did not say anything. Looking over his right shoulder and then his left, he nodded to his grove. One by one they disappeared, returning to the land of the living and their waiting bodies.

  Once they were alone, Dagda turned back to Caylean.

  “What has happened, lad?” he asked.

  Confiding in his mentor all that had happened with Giorsal including his own feelings, he waited until the great druid spoke.

  “Do you think this lad has ill intentions towards her?” he asked.

  “I donnae ken,” Caylean answered. “I donnae like how he is looking at her. And his mind was murky with darkness.”

  “Caylean, if you love her, you must tell her,” he said. “It does no good to pine for the lass. You do not, nor do I ever wish another to ken what it is like to have to watch the woman you love and desire as mate, mate with another.”

  “Who?” Caylean breathed thinking of the women of his grove he had mated with.

  “Nay, lad, donnae think you betrayed me like that,” he said. “’Twas long before your time.” Caylean breathed a sigh of relief. “But let me tell you that there is no greater pain than to see her love someone else.”

  Caylean looked into Dagda’s eyes seeing the profound loss in their dark brown and milky white depths. Before he could speak, Dagda turned and listened. Caylean strained to hear what it was he heard.

  “Where is she at the moment?” Dagda asked.

  “I am nae sure,” he answered. “I believe she is with our family.”

  “Nay,” Dagda replied. “She needs you. Go back. Go back now!” Placing his hand on Caylean’s face, Dagda pushed him back and Caylean woke on his back in the stone circle. Shaking his head to clear it of the fog from so quickly returning to his realm, his ears perked up when he heard someone scream his name. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he felt every nerve in his body come alive.

  “Caylean!” It was Giorsal and she was screaming in fear.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  Why is he no’ answering? Giorsal panicked. How could one kiss turn into this? She wondered. Galbraith was so sweet when he asked to kiss her but when she granted him the gesture, he had grabbed her hard around her arms and threw her against a tree. Her back ached where it had collided with the trunk. Now she was running. Running away from the man she thought she cared for. Galbraith’s eyes had told her that the man she had known for a fortnight was nothing like the true man who shone through that evening.

  Taking a moment to breathe, she screamed when Galbraith popped out from behind a tree.

  “Abomination,” he spewed. Surely, he was possessed. “I will teach you to deny me. My father wants to keep the alliance between us but as soon as the poison I am slowly giving him works and the old man dies, I will be Chief and I will kill you all. But first, I’m going to have some fun with you.”

  “Galbraith, please,” she begged. “What is wrong?”

  “What is wrong is I had to pretend to care about you in order to see your defenses. All good warriors ken what they are against. I had to see the keep,” he said. “And as soon as I am done with you, and I will take my time, I will go back to my father and tell them that your family attacked me and you tried to stop them but failed and they killed you. Then we will mount the attack and they will all die.”

  “Galbraith, this is nae you,” she said.

  “Oh, but it is,” he answered slapping her across the face with the back of his hand. Falling to the ground she cried out when a bone in her wrist snapped. Galbraith was on her before she could stop him. “Now I take what I want from you and then I will kill you.”

  Giorsal did not know what to do, her mind went blank. Galbraith’s hands were so tight on her wrists as he held them above her head, the pain was so great from her broken bone that it was all she could do not to cry. His mouth covered her just as she tried to scream Caylean’s name again. Instinct kicked in and she bit his lip. Rearing back, he slapped her again so hard her ears rang and she saw stars in behind her eyes. He pulled out his knife and sliced up her bodice severing the ties of her gown and her coverings underneath. The garment fell open revealing her breasts to him. His rough hand was on them so tightly she ached. Twisting beneath him, she tried to get away. She tried to focus enough to phase and defend herself but the stinging slaps he had delivered and the pain in her wrist were clouding her mind. Where was her father? She knew he had to have been following them. Where was he? Why would he let this happen?

  Not like this, she begged. Please, Caylean save me. I love you.

  “Caylean!” She screamed once more at the top of her lungs.

  “He is nae going to save you, lass,” Galbraith said. “You are mine.”

  Just as he said that, they heard a roar like a caged animal being freed. Giorsal snapped her head to her right to see Caylean running as fast as he could. He was there. But before she could thank the gods that he had heard her, she watched as his entire body convulsed into a half phase.

  Stunned both she and Galbraith froze but they only had a moment before Caylean’s half phased body slammed into Galbraith and they both went flying off her. Galbraith landed against the ground with a snarling half-wolf gnashing his teeth.

  “Go, Giorsal,” Caylean ordered, his voice rough. “Get away from here.”

  Giorsal scurried holding both sides of her gown together covering her chest. She looked back at Caylean and thanked the gods he had made it in time then ran towards the keep. She did not stop until she ran straight into her father’s chest.

  Tristan grabbed her arms and looked down at her.

  “Are you all right lass?” he cried. He, Aedan and Weylyn were all panting as if they had been running. “What happened? You said you would no’ make any stops. Where have you been? We were running for you when we heard you scream. What has happened?” Seeing the fresh bruise forming on her cheek and the way she tenderly held her wrist, he bent to be eye level with his daughter. “Who did this to you?”

  “Tristan,” Weylyn calmed him. His Alpha was not allowing her to speak.

  Giorsal could not say a word only pointed to where they heard a scream and a howl at the same time. Tristan took off running cursing the miserable cur who had dared touch his daughter. Aedan followed close behind. Weylyn pulled Giorsal into him and held her close and tightly.

  “Did he hurt you, lass?” he asked. She held her wrist to him. “Is that all?” She nodded and swallowed around the lump in her throat.

  “Uncle Weylyn,” Eion called running up. “I was on perimeter run, what has happened?”

  “Get her home, Eion,” he ordered. “Get the women and make sure you donnae let her out of your sight.”

  Eion nodded and took Giorsal’s arm. Once he knew she was safe, Weylyn phased and ran after his alpha.

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  What Weylyn saw he would and could never forget. A thing, for that was truly the only description he could think of, stood before them. The figure’s back rose and fell panting with exertion. The hair fell to the middle of the neck and a stripe of wolf fur ran down
and disappeared into the figure’s trousers. It stood impossibly tall, broad and menacing, with its pale skin beneath dark brown fur. The feet from the knee down were shaped like a wolf and mighty paws held the figure upright.

  Aedan took one step forward, but Weylyn held him back.

  “Nay, donnae approach,” he whispered. But his whisper did little good, the creature spun around with such agility that the three wolves took a step back. The face was split. From eyes down to the mouth and nose was a wolf’s snout, but eyes, forehead and ears was human, but the eyes were black with yellow pupils.

  The creature snapped a warning bark and Tristan half-phased.

  “Nay, Tristan,” Weylyn called. “He is nae a threat so long as he perceives we are nae.”

  Tristan did not phase back as the two men stalked each other, but what drew their attention was the mangled corpse on the ground. Galbraith had been ripped to bits his mouth forever frozen in a silent cry.

  “What happened here?” Tristan demanded.

  The creature tilted his head to one side and looked at him, assessing him.

  “Caylean,” Weylyn called, Aedan looked over at his father, shock registering on his face. “Garmhac,” he called again. The creature’s eyes narrowed as if he recognized the name but could not place it. “What happened here?”

  “Caylean?” Aedan breathed.

  “Aye,” Weylyn answered his son. “Talk to me, lad. Did Galbraith hurt Giorsal?” The creature snapped and growled at him. “I saw the bruise and the broken bone myself,” Weylyn went on. “Tell us what happened.”

  “He tried to force himself on my mate,” Caylean’s voice was deep, growling, and hollow.

  “Your mate?” Tristan demanded.

  “Aye. Giorsal,” Caylean stated.

  Tristan did not stop the growl that made its way out of his throat. Caylean snapped his fangs in response.

  “Stop this!” Weylyn said. “Tristan phase back, he is nae threat. You are my Alpha and I am loyal to you, but Caylean is my blood kin. If you want to hurt him, you will have to go through me, first.”