Way Of The Wolf: Endeavour (The Wulvers Series Book 3)

by Rebecca Anne Stewart

  “That’s why Tala called you Half-breed,” I murmured, feeling stupid for not having put that together already. I was amazed I’d never sensed something more to Sam, that I’d never been able to smell the subtlest hint of wolf on her like I could now. Perhaps I had but waved it off as being the scent of another wolf that had rubbed off on her. Suddenly, Sam was so much more than she’d always been to me. There was a slight comradery between us now. She knew what it meant to be seen as less than as a wolf because despite having mixed blood, she was still wolf, still pack. At least she was in my eyes. She’d struggled just as I had. I felt ignorant for making assumptions, for having not even asked before blurting out angry words.

  “I’m not offended by what I am and I’m more than the names whispered behind my back. This pack has been good to me, my parents are much loved.” She smiled, nodding towards a picture of a happy couple on top of the fireplace.

  I smiled too. Sam looked just like her father and I’d noted that before when I’d first seen the photo. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder just how their relationship worked when they were so different? How could a human possibly understand our ways? And there was also the problem of her father ageing much slower than her mother.

  “They look happy,” I commented, and they truly did. I guessed that was all that really mattered in the end. “Where are they now?”

  “Visiting my aunt and uncle in Birmingham.” She laughed, shaking her head.

  I tipped my head, wondering what was so funny about that and Sam sobered up. “They’ve been there for well over a year now, I think they might decide to stay. It’s where my father’s family are from originally and I know my mother loves it there.”

  Laughing too this time, understanding, a little of the weight came off my shoulders. I could tell she missed her parents though as her eyes flicked back to their picture but I had no doubt they’d come visit her, or she them. Somehow, I could tell they were close and I supposed they had to be, given their unusual circumstances. We were silent a while as we sipped our tea and I watched gentle snow fall out the window. I was glad Sam had opened up to me.

  “I’ve avoided asking, and the last thing I want to do is add to your pain right now but…” she paused, chewing her lip, but I already knew what she was going to ask.

  I looked down and tears blurred my vision, a lump forming in my throat. She’d shared a piece of herself with me and it was only fair to do the same. Sam was my friend and I knew I made it difficult for her to support me when I kept myself so closed off.

  “What happened to your mother?”

  A flash of a pale face the spitting image of mine, with eyes so pale blue they could have been white. A memory maybe, unlikely. The still image of a picture I’d once caught a glimpse of before my father got rid of them all perhaps. He’d gotten rid of everything of her, except me. But I knew it was her face I could see in my mind’s eye, I wasn’t sure how, but it was.

  “I killed her,” I whispered.

  Sam spat out her tea but I couldn’t lift my head to look at her. It was a truth that haunted me, a truth my father made sure I understood. Before she could say anything, I forced myself to continue, telling her something I hadn’t spoken of out loud since I’d explained everything to Cathwulf and her parents. They’d been shocked, horrified even, tears streaming down all their faces as I voiced the truth of how I stole my mother’s life. Of course they’d argued, denied my beliefs, and I’d nodded and told them they were right while keeping the truth close to my heart. A heart that beat because my mother’s didn’t.

  “She died because she decided to keep me. She was told it would be a difficult pregnancy, but she craved a pup. That’s what Everett and Kerra told me, they said they’d never seen her glow like she did while she was pregnant with me,” I began slowly, my voice wavering.

  “She died giving birth to you?” Sam guessed, her expression showing all the pain she felt for me.

  I wiped angrily at the tears that fell, gritting my teeth to stop my jaw from trembling. “A few days after my birth, yes.”

  “I’m so sorry, Oria,” she whispered brokenly.

  Shaking my head, I brushed off her apology that I didn’t deserve. My breathing had quickened and every breath made the tingling sensation in my throat that I always got before I cried grow stronger. Sam was pulling me from the armchair and beside her on the couch before I could say anything else. Her arms were strong around me and I allowed myself to sink into her.

  After a few silent moments of taking comfort, I pulled back. “I can see her face, I remember what she looked like. Just an image of her smiling down at me but it can’t be a memory. I wish it was. I wish I had even that much of her for myself.”

  There was something else too, a song, a lullaby that I always hummed and used to sing to myself to get to sleep after suffering under my father’s hands. I liked to think that came from her.

  “You never know. Maybe that small memory is a gift she gave you,” Sam said, squeezing my hand.

  My heart swelled at that thought and I hoped that maybe it was possible, that maybe I deserved that much. I never knew the sound of her voice, or the feel of her touch, her warmth—and at times, they’d been the only things I’d wanted.

  “I bet she’s proud of you too. All that you’ve been through and you’ve come out as you have, that’s incredible,” Sam complimented. “You could have crumbled. You could have come out cold and heartless. You have every right to be angry at the world and everyone in it but you’re not. You’re one of the sweetest, warmest souls I know. Your father didn’t break you before and he won’t break you now.”

  Sniffing, it was his face in my head now. “He wasn’t always bad. I think the longer he went with a broken bond, the more it ate away at him. You must know not all wolves can get through that, I know it’s not an excuse. My father was always unstable, even when my mother was alive. At least that’s what I’ve heard. But he used to walk with me high on his shoulders, I remember thinking I could touch the sky. I’ve never told anyone that before, not even Cathwulf.”

  “I’m glad you told me. Remember, whatever happens, I’m here for you. We all are.”

  “I know. Thank you.” I smiled. “I should be getting home before the storm hits. Quillan won’t be too happy otherwise and he’s being oddly overprotective when he’s home.”

  “You’re still in a new relationship, he’ll settle eventually. Personally, I hope I remain single forever. Watching you and Cathwulf deal with these overprotective mates has put me off entirely,” Sam teased, standing with me.

  I laughed, my eyes searching the sky with an unease. It was growing darker than it should have been at this time. Even though it would only take twenty minutes or so to walk home, I was beginning to think I wouldn’t beat the snow.

  “You’ll find someone eventually, I’m sure,” I murmured absentmindedly, tugging my jacket on and pulling my grey beanie over my ears.

  Sam turned her gaze out the window and frowned. “Maybe you’d be best staying here tonight, Oria. We can call the house and let Quillan know.”

  As much as I leaned towards accepting her offer, we both knew that Quillan would just come and get me anyway if he was back yet, and he promised he would be. He wouldn’t sleep well without me by his side until my father was safely locked away. Neither would I.

  “I’m sure I’ll survive some wind and snow. Make sure you keep the fire going through the night. I’ll lock the window shutters in place while I’m outside for you. No point in you braving the cold too,” I replied, embracing her.

  She begrudgingly agreed but the worried look never left her face and it made an odd feeling settle in my stomach. I didn’t want Sam to worry any more than she already was though, so I gave her a smile and wave, and stepped outside. The air was heavy and oddly warm as I closed the shutters, flicking the latch to keep them in place. Nodding to myself, I turned to start home.

  A low rumble shook the ground and the clouds seemed to burst, letting down a flur
ry of white and a sudden gust of cold. I hurried my steps, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in the arms of my mate. Just as the house came into view a howl echoed from the forest, one filled with the sound of victory. I knew right then what it meant and a shiver wracked through my body that had nothing to do with the icy wind howling through the dark skies.

  That howl was the song of a hunter finally catching their prey. They’d found him.

  Chapter 22

  Long Awaited

  The window looked like TV static with how heavy the snow fell, blurring everything in shades of white and grey. It had slowed down the scouts’ progress as well and there was still no sight of them or my father. I told myself they had a long way to travel, that I shouldn’t worry but it did little to calm my nerves. The kitchen counter creaked in protest beneath my grip, sharp nails cutting into the surface.

  “They should be back by now,” I fretted, searching for my mate through the bond only to get nothing.

  Something must have happened. Why else would he shut me out?

  “They’ll be back soon, Oria. A watched pot doesn’t cook…or something to that effect,” Cathwulf replied from where she sat eating Oreos dipped in salsa.

  Peering over my shoulder, my lips twitched in amusement. She was lounging on one of the soft-backed stools, the tub of salsa propped on her bump. I scrunched my nose in disgust as she dipped an Oreo in but I knew better than to say anything; when Brighid had criticised her odd cravings yesterday, she’d started crying inconsolably.

  Roarke hadn’t been happy.

  “Flidais howled last night, it sounded close. It shouldn’t be taking them so long,” I said, turning my gaze back to the window.

  Cat sighed heavily. “Quillan left as soon as Flidais signalled they’d caught him. If something had gone wrong, you’d feel it. Why don’t you go have a bath and relax? Or run me a bath so I can relax.”

  Another smile of amusement at her words and I turned my whole body away from the window. She was right, I couldn’t stand like a statue until they came back. My smile fell when I noticed my friend’s face creased in pain. Running to her side, one hand fell to her bump while the other went to her forehead.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, checking her vitals, listening for the fluttering, birdlike heartbeat of her pup.

  After a few seconds, she relaxed and nodded, letting out a whoosh of air. I didn’t believe her though. Pressing gently on her bump, there was no hardening that signalled the beginnings of labour. Roarke came barrelling round the corner with a panicked expression, his eyes zeroing in on the way I checked over his mate. He was by her side and holding her hand before I had the chance to say anything.

  “She’s all right,” I said, smiling at the way he fussed over his mate. “But maybe a bath isn’t such a bad idea.”

  I didn’t want to tell her that her odd cravings could be giving her a stomach ache. Roarke relaxed, his hand moving over her bump in a soft caress. My heart clenched at the way he looked at her, the love and care that shone in his eyes. Cathwulf smiled up at him, her hand squeezing his.

  “Can you feel her kick?” Cathwulf asked him with a grin.

  He grinned back. “I can, my female. I can feel her.”

  I wondered if Quillan and I would share moments like this. Did Quillan want pups? Did I? My hand slid over my flat stomach and I imagined what it would feel like swollen with a pup. One day I might feel brave enough to ask him.

  “She’s a strong little thing. She’ll be a good Alpha,” Cathwulf said with a small glimpse of fang that had me suddenly wishing I’d left them to it.

  I’d heard this argument between them before. A low rumble left Roarke’s chest and subtly, I moved myself between them. A fight was the last thing Cathwulf needed right now.

  “She’ll become whatever she’s meant to be,” I cut in, my wolf urging me to ease the tension, to keep my Alpha Female safe.

  My eyes met Roarke’s and he conceded, allowing me to help his mate off the stool. I should have been amazed by how easily I stood up to him and the smallest of smirks he gave me at seeing my own wolf demand he back down had me blushing. It was my job to protect Cathwulf, he didn’t scold me for it.

  “If she’s anything like her mother, the world will bow before her,” Roarke agreed and Cathwulf seemed to settle down at that.

  I had to admit, Roarke was smooth. He’d neither agreed to this female being heir to the pack nor disagreed. It was complicated. If this was the only pup the pair would have, whoever she mated with would be Alpha. If they had another pup, a male, he would be Alpha. But Cathwulf wasn’t having that, she didn’t want her daughter to grow up as she had with uncertainty about where her future would lie. Cathwulf wanted her firstborn to be heir. Alpha. Even if she mated. I was proud of her ambitions but there was a danger in them. A danger Roarke was too aware of. I pushed those thoughts away and cleared up the mess of crumbs Cathwulf had left on the table.

  Just as Cathwulf and Roarke were about to head upstairs, the front door banged open, letting in a gust of cold air that had goose bumps rising. A shiver went up my spine, crumbs slipping through my fingers. Flidais ran past, checking the dining room before her head whipped towards the kitchen, her eyes widening when she spotted me.

  “Let’s go to your room, Oria,” she said quickly, snatching my hand to try and tug me along behind her.

  I stumbled, pulling back. “What? Why?”

  Roarke watched Flidais with a frown but with the next gust of wind, his eyes flicked outside. The colour from Cathwulf’s cheeks disappeared and the blood drained from my face because that gust of wind brought with it a scent I could pick out from anywhere. The first scent I ever knew.

  I was glued to the spot, the flurry of snow in the corner of my eye daring me to turn, to catch a glimpse of the nightmare that had haunted me for years in the flesh.

  Flidais tugged my hand again, noting the panic in my eyes, her voice gentler now. “Come, it’ll be easier this way.”

  My tongue was thick in my mouth, but I couldn’t help but turn towards the door. His presence demanded I look. My breath caught in my throat at the sight that met my eyes. Quillan marched in front of the small group, his eyes wild and dangerous with barely held restraint. The closer he got, the more I could feel the feral nature of his wolf calling through the bond. My own wolf clawed at my control with the age old, beaten-in instinct to run away from so much raw dominance. I held firm, hands curling until nails that were almost claws dug into soft skin.

  My mate’s huge frame hid my father from view but I could smell him and feel the familiar thrum of his own power. I didn’t miss the purple bruise that darkened Quillan’s cheekbone and my temper flared. Again my wolf pushed forward, needing to check him over completely to tend to any and every injury. Had this been why it took them so long? Had they fought? How bad did my father fare in a fight with as skilled a warrior as my mate?

  Everything was going in slow motion now. Quillan’s eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw me making my way to stand just outside the door. Flidais stiffened beside me as the anger of his wolf rumbled out. It was then I realised it had been Quillan’s idea to get me out of the way and he’d sent Flidais to do it. She’d obviously failed.

  A small spark of anger burned through me. Did he think me too weak to handle this? Cathwulf placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and Roarke moved in front of her so he was between her and the approaching group, angling himself so I could still see. At least my Alpha thought me strong enough.

  Ruiraidh suddenly darted, yanking back on the prisoner he held firmly with another’s help. Growls and snarls came from the ragged male they held. Wild, midnight blue eyes, a few shades darker than my own, met mine and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. If it weren’t for those eyes, I might not have recognised him so quickly.

  Now we stood mere feet apart and all struggling stopped. Quillan refused to move, stopping me from getting a proper look and our eyes clashed. My lips peeled back to reveal sharp fangs, I woul
dn’t have him make me seem weak in front of so many, especially in front of him. Our challenge was broken when my father spoke.

  “I know that scent. I know that scent. My female,” he muttered to himself, his voice gruff and tinged with madness.

  Swallowing hard, I was glad that I had Cathwulf and Flidais standing strong beside me. I took another step forward. His eyes found mine again, clouded with confusion before he yanked against the hands that held him once more in fury.

  “Maebh!”

  Freezing again, my heart stuttered as he yelled my mother’s name. With one word that struck a hammer like blow, my confidence crumbled.

  “Maebh! I found you, Maebh. I promised I would get you back, do you remember?” he rushed, grinning to reveal a partially shifted jaw covered in a dark and scruffy beard that was one step from turning to fur.

  I pushed down the fear and swallowed the lump in my throat, doing my best to give off an aura of confidence. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, I knew the sympathy that would show on their faces.

  “It’s me, father. It’s Oria,” I said gently, shaking now, praying he’d remember.

  He looked wilder then, fighting harder to get free. I slumped as he shook his head and frowned, mumbling incoherently. Another unsteady step forward had him suddenly screaming my mother’s name, his dirty hands reaching desperately out for me. His skin shimmered and Quillan yelled my name as my father shifted into his big white wolf that almost disappeared into the background of white snow.

  I knew that look in his eyes and didn’t resist as Roarke grabbed both Cathwulf and me, dragging us back towards the house. This was a wolf feral with the belief he was being denied his mate. I stumbled as Quillan shifted into his own wolf after giving Flidais a meaningful look that had her shoving me roughly inside and slamming the door shut.