Because this was every dream she’d ever had and was coming true all at once.
“Yes.” Her voice wobbled, and she made it firm. “I love you both so much.”
Pulling in a breath, she added the ritual words that would please Tynan’s tradition-loving heart. “We will be lifemates in this life and all our lives to come.”
Because she couldn’t imagine being without them. Ever.
As the clan broke into gleeful shouts, Donal and Tynan rose.
Tynan slid the bracelet on her wrist, and pulled her into his arms for a long, thorough kiss. “I love you, mo chridhe,” he whispered into her hair and handed her to his brother.
Donal added his bracelet beside his littermate’s, pulled her in and whirled her around before kissing her. She could feel the joy bubbling inside him.
Then he stopped and frowned. “Wait. We get bracelets.”
Tynan laughed and opened his other hand to show two masculine bracelets that matched her smaller ones. “Mark us, Meggie, so all will know we’re yours.”
Happy tears trickled down her cheeks as she put a lifemating bracelet on Tynan’s corded wrist and pulled him down for a kiss. “I love you, Tynan, for this lifetime and into the next and the next…”
His growl of agreement made her heart happy.
She put the other bracelet on Donal’s lean muscular wrist. “I love you, Donal, so very much, in this lifetime and all the rest to come.”
He purred as he kissed her.
Tracing the lifemating bracelets on their wrists, she smiled. “My mates.”
“Yours,” Donal agreed.
“Ours,” Tynan said.
Whistles and cheers rolled over the forest and echoed off the mountains of the Gods.
Epilogue
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory – end of summer
* * *
Why doesn’t she wake up?
In the chair beside Meggie’s bed, Tynan held her limp hand in both of his. And waited.
Waited.
Waited.
Her breathing was slow. Too slow? No, Donal had assured him—several times—that the rate was to be expected.
Her face was pale. Because she’d lost blood before Donal had gotten it stopped.
Herne’s hide and hooves, but he never wanted to live through anything as traumatic as the sound of her bones breaking. Crunching. His guts twisted, and when Meggie stiffened, he realized he was squeezing her hand.
He forced his grip to loosen and stroked over her forearm instead. Too late. He’d disturbed her, and her head rolled back and forth on the pillows. Her hands closed into fists.
Bloody hell, she was dropping into a nightmare again.
So many nightmares over the last day.
“Shhh, lass, everything is all right.”
If she would only wake up, everything would be fine. But, feck, she hadn’t even woken up during all the construction noise. He glanced behind him at the south wall where all the work had been done. He’d have to close the curtains before he left the room.
“You’re safe, sweetheart. I’m here. Nothing will hurt you.”
Except them. He’d let Donal hurt her. And Ben.
Gnome-nuts, why the feck did I agree to this?
“I love you, Meggie mine.”
Love was such a small word for all that he felt for her. How she’d changed his life—and Donal’s, as well. She’d come into his life like the spring sun after a bleak winter, warming his heart, bringing change and new life.
She made a whimpering sound that broke his heart.
“No, no, little wolf. You’re fine. You’re safe.” He opened her fingers and pressed her hand to his cheek, then kissed the palm.
The strain disappeared from her face, and her breathing slowed again. For the moment, he’d vanquished the nightmares that plagued her sleep.
With a sigh, he kissed her hand again. “It would be fine with me if you’d wake up soon, lass.”
* * *
Margery could hear a low Irish-accented baritone speaking of love and safety. Telling her she should wake up.
Wake up. But where was she? Pain and terror lingered in her memory. Was she in the Scythe compound?
So many images of fighting, blood, agony, and death were blurred together in one eternal nightmare. What had happened?
She froze. Don’t let them know you’re awake. Sense by sense, she tried to get a handle on where she was.
She lay on her side. In a bed. There was a pillow under her head, a sheet and blanket over her body.
Her eyelids lifted ever so slightly. Shadowy room. To one side, someone was pulling the curtains closed. The room darkened more.
Then he—a big male—walked out the door.
She listened and heard no rattle of gunfire, no screams, no shouting. From somewhere came soft noises and conversation. The voices were familiar.
Remarkably familiar.
Her brows drew together, and she opened her eyes completely. Sat up.
This was her bedroom. Her own room that was twice as big as her mates’ bedrooms on either side.
The curtains covering the south windows were closed, but the uncovered east window displayed the night sky. A light breeze brought the fragrance of roses from the bushes along the side of the house and an intriguing smell of freshly cut wood.
Another breath brought her the masculine scent of her mates from the linens.
The scent of home.
She was home, where she’d lived with Tynan and Donal since their lifemating over two months ago.
Okay, then.
Pulling in a breath, she tried to figure out what had happened. Why she felt so groggy.
She didn’t hurt like after the battle last Solstice. Her head was fine. No knife slices. Her ankle ached…but nothing new about that.
Although an aching ankle might have been what had caused all those nightmares—as well as the urgent need to shift during the horrific dreams.
But each time, someone—several someones—had squeezed her hand and told her no in variations of: “No, lass. Stay human. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She shook her head. Dreams were funny, weren’t they? During some of the worst ones, she’d heard her alpha talking, telling her she was safe. Telling her not to shift—and no pack member could refuse the order of the alpha.
And she’d heard Zeb, too. His harsh voice had been almost a croon as he told her to stay in human form…and that he’d slaughter any Scythe who appeared.
Donal. Of course, Donal had been in her dreams with his resonant voice, saying she was going to be fine, and he was there. To behave and stay human. That he loved her even if she was a stubborn wolflet.
And always, always, Tynan’s Irish-accented murmurs ran through her dreams. Reminding he was there. Not to shift because he’d keep her safe. He’d always keep her safe.
“Lass, you’re awake. Finally.” Tynan walked into her room. His strained expression was replaced by a smile. He wasn’t in uniform but wore a loose cotton shirt. Over the summer, his skin had tanned, making his blue eyes seem even lighter.
His smile faded. “Lass, what’s wrong?”
“I’m so confused.” She looked around the room, and the movement made her head spin. “I don’t remember going to bed. And I’ve had so many nightmares, and I’m dizzy.”
“Ah, little wolf.” After turning on the bedside lamp, he sat beside her on the bed and gently put an arm around her shoulders. He was so solid, so warm, and she cuddled closer. “You’re still half-sedated. Do you remember that Donal was after fixing your ankle today?”
“My ankle?” Oh Gods, that’s what happened. Donal had used human anesthesia on her and re-broken her ankle so he could heal it properly.
“Ah, there, now you’re remembering.” Tynan tucked her closer.
“Margery, are you ready for some food?” Donal stood in the doorway, holding a glass and a basket.
Tynan frowned. “I thought we agreed you’d clean up the mess in the
kitchen.”
“Done.” Donal gave his littermate a feline’s smug smile. “House-brownies have moved in. The kitchen is spotless.”
Brownies? “Here? We have brownies?” A burble of happiness escaped her. The small OtherFolk only came to live in homes with happy, established families. “We’re a family,” she whispered.
Tynan kissed the top of her head. “So we are.”
“Aye.” After putting the basket and glass on the bedstand, Donal sat on her other side, facing her. His silvery gaze was tired, his color pale.
With fingertips, she traced the dark circle under his eyes. “You look exhausted. What did you do today?”
Tynan chuckled. “Sedation isn’t gone yet. She’s only half-tracking.”
“I’m tracking fine.” Wasn’t she? Why did he say that?
And why was Donal tired?
Oh, wait.
Then she remembered what Tynan had said before Donal came in. “My ankle!” Her hands closed on the sheets as hope rose. “Is-is it fixed?”
Donal took her hands. “Yes, all fixed, although it took forever to piece everything together before healing the mess. We had to keep you sedated longer than I liked.”
Tynan snorted. “He’s irritable because you kept starting to shift, and he knew he’d be your first target.”
“Sorry, Donal.” At his huffed response, she giggled.
Snuggling closer to Tynan, she rubbed her cheek against his hard shoulder and winced at the ache.
Had she banged her face into something?
She touched her cheek and ran her fingertips over the slightly tender line where the long, bumpy scar used to be.
Traced it again. Found nothing. “Donal?”
“Ah…wolflet.” Worry swept his face. “The scar didn’t bother me or Tynan, but it seemed to remind you of that beating. Of the Scythe.”
The memory… The guard’s ring tearing through her skin, ripping her face open. The pain, so much pain. She swallowed and nodded.
He squeezed her fingers. “After I finished with your ankle, you still slept, and it seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good sedative. So, Tynan and I talked.”
“And I agreed,” Tynan chimed in.
She had a momentary flash of how their cubs would be, the littermates backing each other up. Standing together. She leaned into Tynan.
Donal took on his healer’s smooth tone, the one he used when he was worried. “I cut away the scar tissue. Put the new edges together and healed them. Your skin has good elasticity and—”
“You t-took the scar away.” Her eyes prickled with tears.
His expression turned panicked. “Don’t cry, Margery. By the Gods, I’ll put it back if you want. I can—”
Despite the tears streaming down her face, she was laughing. Donal flustered? Who would have thought? “No, you won’t put it back.” His face was a blur under the veil of tears. “Thank you.
“She’s happy it’s gone, Donal. Relax.” Tynan chuckled.
Tynan knew her so well.
“Meggie.” With tender fingers, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Now that you’ve terrified the healer, tell us how your ankle feels.”
Holding her breath, she moved her foot, rotated the ankle. “There’s only a bit of aching.”
“Normal for that extensive of a healing.” Donal flipped the covers back to look for himself. “Between the healing and the sedative after-effects, you’ll be sleeping a lot for the next day or so.”
Who cared about sleep?
She stared at her leg. The swelling was gone. Nothing grated inside. Hope rose inside her like a huge bubble.
Donal nodded. “Looks good, sweetheart.”
It did. It looked great. She wiggled it. “I bet I can run on it now—and dance. I want to dance.”
Donal shot to his feet and pointed a finger at her. “By Herne’s holy prick, you are not doing any dancing. Not until I tell you that it’s all right. Do you know how fucking scared I was through all this? I didn’t do this job on your Gods-benighted, busted ankle to have you ruin all my hard word with pixie-brained idiocy like dancing on a newly healed joint.”
Tynan rubbed his mouth to hide his smile…but his shoulders shook. And she burst into giggles.
Donal scowled at his brother then her. “You laugh? Laugh?”
Oh Gods, she couldn’t catch her breath she was laughing so hard. “I love you, you know.” What was he going to do when he had a litter of cubs to drive him crazy?
Huffing, he resumed his seat, leaned forward, and kissed her giggles away. “Bad wolf.”
She hugged him, then tipped her head back and kissed Tynan. “Thank you. Thank you both. For the healing and the handholding.”
For being there. For loving her.
“That’s what mates are for, Meggie mine.” Tynan picked the glass up. “If you get some fluids in you, we might let you have something sweet. Maybe.”
She took a sip of the apple juice. “One of you actually cooked a dessert?”
“Gods forbid,” Donal muttered.
Tynan lifted the basket and set it on her lap. “We have cookies of all kinds, two cakes, scones, and donuts with sprinkles.”
As the scent of baked goods wafted up, her stomach rumbled hungrily. “You bought out a bakery?”
“No.” Donal smiled at her. “Your clan was worried. All your friends as well as all the shifters you’ve treated brought something.”
“Sent with love to speed your healing.” Tynan stroked her hair.
This time when she burst into tears, her mates just laughed.
Once she’d recovered, she drank down the juice. She ate a muffin—because blueberries made it healthy—followed by a chocolate chip cookie, because…chocolate.
With a sigh, she leaned back against the headboard. “That was awesome. I’ll have to thank them all.”
Once she was moving again. Which might be a while.
“The carpenter-crew, too,” Tynan said.
“Huh?”
He was saying something about a window and changing something out while she was sedated.
Donal laughed. “Brawd, she’s not following a word of that.”
Tynan chuckled, and she felt him sliding her down in the bed. “Sleep, lass.”
“But I just woke up.” Her body started to slide back toward sleep—stupid sedation—and her eyelids felt as if pixies were dragging on the lashes. “I can’t be tired already.”
“Sure, you can.” Tynan tucked the covers around her. “It’s late, little wolf.”
“I don’t want to sleep.” Tears threatened because…maybe it was the nightmares, but the past seemed too close tonight. The memory of the bare cell, empty of people. Sitting under the tiny window, longing for the moon. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“That we can fix.” Donal pulled off his clothes and slid into bed beside her.
“I didn’t sit with the moon,” she protested, even as he pulled her against him. Oh, he was so wonderfully warm she wanted to cry.
“We’ll let the moon come to you tonight,” Tynan walked over to the south wall.
She shook her head. What was he thinking? To be in the light, she had to sit directly beneath the—
He pulled the curtains.
She stared. The small windows were gone, replaced by three huge windows that took up most of the wall and opened the room to the black sky. And the nearly full moon.
“Oooooh.” Nothing had ever been more beautiful. The moon—and the love that had known her need and fulfilled it.
“Looks like we silenced her completely.” Tynan grinned at his brother and slid into bed on her other side, pinning her between them.
They tucked her onto her side, her head on Tynan’s shoulder, her leg over his thighs. Her hand was on his chest, his fingers laced with hers. Donal curled up behind her, his chest against her back, his arm over her waist…and his palm cupping one breast.
It was their favorite way to sleep.
Their warmth was almos
t as wonderful as the sense of safety they gave her. The memory of the empty cell faded under the callused hands stroking her, the gentle kisses.
“I love you two so much…mountains and lakes of love.”
Tynan’s low rumbling laugh told her she wasn’t making sense, but the lake of love was there, growing infinitely deep, as her lifemates held her between them.
As she fell asleep, the silvery moonglow poured through the windows, bathing them in light.
Glossary
The Daonain use a conglomeration of handed-down languages from the British Isles. Some of the older villages still speak the Gaelic (Scots) or Irish Gaelic. Many of the more common (and mangled) shifter terms have descended from Welsh.
Errors and simplification of spelling and pronunciation can be attributed to being passed down through generations…or the author messing up. Below are a few of the more common words and terms used by the shifters. And, just for fun, I added pronunciations (good luck with those).
* * *
a bhràthair: brother [a BRA (roll the “r” if Shay says it)-her]
A brathair-faoirm: brother in arms [a BRA (roll the “r” if Shay says it)-her] – fwee – a-i-rm]
a chuisle mo chridhe: pulse of my heart [ah hoosh-la muh cwree]
deartháir: brother or birth-mate [Irish – [ghrih-hawr]
a leannán: sweetheart, darling [a le-anan]
a mhac: son [a-machk]
banfasa: wise woman/nurse (Irish Gaelic from bean feasa) [ban-FAH-sa]
brawd: brother [br-ow-d. Don’t need to roll the “r”]
cahir: warrior (Irish/Gaelic from Cathaoir) [ka-HEER]
caomhnor: protector/guardian of children (from Caomhnóir) [kuheeoo-NOR]
cariad: lover, darling, sweetheart (Welsh) [core-ee-awt]
chwaer: sister (Welsh) [ k-wy-ir like choir only a gutteral beginning and the end almost missing]
Cosantir: guardian or protector (Irish Gaelic from An Cosantóir) [KOSS-un-tore]
Daonain: the shifter race [DAY-ah-nan]
dùin do bhuel: shut up [DOO-in doh viool (oo' as in look, 'i' as short as possible as in view]
Healing of the Wolf Page 40