There were five dead angels on the ground, their bodies twisted and their wings wrenched. Before, no matter how much they hurt them, they could never kill the angels. Now, with Mads carrying the sword of the great hero Fenrisulfir, that had changed, and the werewolves were slowly, but surely turning the tide.
“We've won,” exulted Kalle. He was shorter and lighter than Mads, but otherwise, he was his brother's double. He bounced on his feet, as ready to fight now as he had been a few hours ago, when the battle started.
“We've won a battle,” corrected Nils, darker and slighter than either of them. He was the youngest of them now, and he had always been grimmer. “There are angels yet to fight.”
Mads cleaned his sword, the thing that had brought all five angels down while his war band had engaged them, and he grinned at his companions.
The year had been a successful one, and slowly, word among the angels had spread. The attacks on their land had lessened. Discontent with that, the werewolves had gone hunting. It was a brutal measure, but one that he and the elders of the pack deemed necessary. They had been on the hunt for more than nine months.
As much as he was homesick, however, a part of his heart still reached out for Tara. Some nights, he thought the sword was a poor exchange for the woman he had fallen in love with. He wondered if she was safe, if she yet lived, and Kalle whistled insolently in his ear.
“I know what you are thinking, brother,” he said mischievously. “Let me cure you of your misery. I know a young lady not a day from here who would make you forget everything that troubles you.”
Mads' roar was a furious thing, and he swung a heavy backhanded blow at his brother, who dodged lazily.
“I'd give it up if I were you,” Nils observed. “He's got a war to fight, after all.”
“One that might be ending soon,” Mads said thoughtfully.
They had seen fewer and fewer angels, this much was true, and the twenty men and women in his war band were tired from their long fight. He glanced around them and saw not only soldiers who he would trust with his life, but also people who were tired to the bone and longed for their home, for the cottages of Cairn Rock, where the werewolves lived freely and openly.
“I'm not done, but the rest of you are,” he said finally. “There was talk of an angel in Boston, a powerful one. I can't take the lot of you into the city, so you head home. Nils and Kalle, you're with me, and then we'll make our way home together.”
“What's one angel?” called Sivan, a tall, gaunt woman with a single eye. “Come home with us, Chief, celebrate with us.”
There was a murmur of agreement, but Mads quelled it with a warning growl.
“The war's not done yet, Nils is right. I'll come home when it's right to do so.”
It was a mark of their regard how much they wanted him to return with them, but he couldn't do it. He knew that if they returned, he would be surrounded by young werewolf women who wanted a place by his side, and that there would be pressure from his entire family to marry. Werewolf war leaders didn't have a long life because of the dangers of battle, and it was his duty to leave his blood behind in the form of sons and daughters.
He shook his head. There was no way he could return, not when his heart was missing. He looked up at the clear night sky, and when he simply thought of Tara's name, he ached.
Boston, he decided. One last hunt in Boston, and it was time to get on with his life, whatever he made of it.
***
It was Tara’s day off, but Lukas was no where to be found. Sometimes the angel would leave for days on end, off on his own strange errands and tasks, but when she expected him to be around, he always was.
Tara bounced Fen in her arms, biting her lip with worry. She knew that he haunted one of the large parks nearby sometimes, and she knew that once in a while, he had mentioned losing track of time, becoming lost. He had told her he would be with her today to take Fen outside into the warm summer day, but as the day drew on, and she didn't hear from him, she grew increasingly nervous.
Tara knew that she could take her son out on her own, but she also knew that it was safer to do so with a disguised angel nearby. Finally, she decided that she would go looking for Lukas, and with that, she rang the doorbell on the apartment next door.
Mrs. Erikson was an older widow who had looked after Fen before, and she was delighted to take a little bit of cash to watch him while Tara ran out for an hour. Tara knew that she wouldn't leave the house, and so she set off for the park at a brisk walk.
To her dismay, the day that had started out so bright and sunny was growing dimmer by the moment, and when she came to the park's gates, there were fat drops of rain pelting down around her. She passed families who were hustling out of the park as she entered, and a feeling of deep foreboding came over her.
She trotted along the paths because running would have meant admitting that something was wrong, and everywhere she looked for Lukas.
Tara was just beginning to give up hope when she heard growls from nearby and a pained groan. She had her phone in hand, ready to call the police when she realized that she recognized that groan.
She dashed into the trees and within a few moments, she found herself in a wilder area of the park, one that was shielded from view by high rocks and growth, and that was how she found Lukas.
He was flat on his back, and though he was wearing normal clothes, his wings had emerged from his back, turning his shirt to rags. Those same wings, strong enough to lift him off the ground, were bent and pinned to the ground, and standing over him were two gray wolves. He had been groaning before, but now he was lying frighteningly still.
Her mind tried to tell her that they were wild dogs, but she knew that they were not, especially when as one, they turned to look at her, and one of them had a pair of electric blue eyes that she still saw in her dreams.
“Please,” she said softly, inching closer to them. “He hasn't done anything wrong... he doesn't hunt you. He's... he's gentle.”
One of the wolves bared his teeth at her, but the other, the one with the blue eyes, transformed before her eyes. She realized very quickly that it wasn't Mads, but he looked enough like her lover that it made her heart constrict.
“You don't know what you're talking about,” he said bluntly. “I don't know what you know, but it's not enough. Whoever you are, run and hide, and we won't hurt you. Hurting humans isn't our business.”
“He's my friend,” she insisted. “He... he protects me, please, don't hurt him.”
The wolf by the man's side growled warningly when she tried to come closer, and she halted, holding her hands up. She was almost dizzy with fear, with how fast things could change, and all she knew was that she could not allow the wolves to savage her friend.
She started to speak again, but then a voice cut through all of it, a voice that she had dreamed about and yearned for the better part of the last year.
“Tara?”
She spun around and found herself clasped in arms that were as strong as steel and her lips taken in a fiercely passionate kiss. There was no other response possible for her to this man, and she clung to him. She knew who it was without looking. There was no hesitation in her body and her mind, and she kissed him back fiercely.
It wasn't until he set her back that she could see the deep trouble that she and Lukas were in. Mads was dressed for battle, with a sword strapped to his side, and a part of her wondered how he had even gotten it through the Boston streets at all.
“He took you,” Mads growled, glancing at the angel on the ground. “All this time, I thought you ran, and one of these bastards took you.”
“No!” she cried, because she could see Lukas' death in Mads' furious gaze, and she put herself between Mads and the injured angel on the ground.
“No, I did run away,” she said softly. “You betrayed me for that weapon you hold in your hands, and he helped me.”
There was a moment of sheer rage in Mads' eyes, but his hands on her were still
gentle.
“I love you,” he said forcefully. “What does that mean to you?”
“It means...” she hesitated. It meant everything, but she had no idea how she was going to say that to him.
A sharp cry and a furious howl behind her took them both by surprise, and Lukas, who was less injured than Tara initially feared, threw himself into the air. There was nothing that either wolf or man could do to hold him, and when Mads charged him, slashing with the sword, he only flew higher.
“It is done,” Lukas said, with aching regret in his voice, and Tara heard something in it that made goose bumps rise up on her arms.
“What? What is done?” she demanded, and he met her stare with grief.
“I'm... I'm so sorry, Tara. Please take heart, it is for the best. I will see you again at the Aerie.”
With nothing more than that, Lukas threw himself into the air, and was gone, leaving everyone to stare at Tara.
“Fen,” she whispered. “Oh no, Fen!”
She took off running, but Mads caught her by the elbow again.
“Who or what is Fen?” he growled. “What are you hiding from me?”
She stared up at him, seeing the rage and the jealousy there, and suddenly, her own anger came up to meet it quickly and with the power of a tidal wave.
“My son,” she shouted. “My son, my child, the one I carried from city to city! Lukas, that angel you were going to kill, helped me birth him, and helped me survive, and now I have to go to him! Let me go, Mads!”
With every word that she spoke, his hands tightened on her, and his face grew paler and paler.
“A child?” he said thickly. “A son?”
“My son,” she cried. “Mine and yours, and now let me go!”
Whether he let her go from pain or from shock, she didn't know and didn't care. She ran as hard as she could, and she was only vaguely aware of the three following her, all human now.
She dashed up the stairs to her apartment, and to her shock and terror, she found Mrs. Erikson's door hanging open. The woman was in a dead sleep in her bedroom, but there was no sign of Fen. The only thing left was a long white feather that she knew came from no bird, and she shivered, thinking of her child in the arms of one of the burned and scarred angels.
Numbly, she woke up Mrs. Erikson and told her that she was taking Fen back, and then she went to the little apartment, a place that had felt so safe just a few hours ago. She let Mads and his friends in, because she couldn't think to do otherwise, and for a very long moment, she sat still as a statue in the kitchen chair.
She was prepared for Mads to shout, to be angry. She didn't even know what the penalty was for taking a child from its father among his people. She wondered dully if he would abandon her, or if he would leave in disgust. When he spoke, she was ready to hear anything except what he actually said.
“Tara, I'm so sorry,” Mads murmured.
He dropped to his knees by her side, and he took her frigid hands in his. He was so warm, he always had been, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse into him. There had been too much time, though, and too much blood, and all she knew was that she didn't know him at all.
“He's... he's a beautiful boy,” she found herself saying woodenly. “He came out perfectly, Mads. So strong, and so... so loud. He has eyes just like yours...”
Mads made a pained sound deep in his throat, and then the decision was taken away from her. He swept her up in his arms, and it was such a relief that she simply fell into him. It was what she had been yearning for the past year, and now that he was so close, she couldn't resist his scent, his touch, and his strength.
“We'll get him back, Tara, I promise.” Mads whispered the words into her hair, and Tara could only nod tightly. She heard the truth in his voice, the honesty, but then she had thought she could tell when he was lying before.
After a long moment, she drew back, and blinked at the two other men who were watching them closely.
Mads followed her gaze and nodded. “Tara, let me introduce you to my brothers. The idiot with the smile on his face is Kalle, and the quiet one who always glares is Nils. Nils, Kalle, this is Tara.”
“The famous Tara,” Kalle murmured, and she was struck all over again by how much he looked like Mads.
“I need to pack,” she said. “If we're going to find the Aerie, I'll need to have more than my flannel pajamas on me, like I did last time.”
She went into her room, where she started to pack an old backpack full of things that she might need. Her hand hesitated over the book of unbinding, which she had kept at the very back of her sock drawer. It was a rather ridiculous place for something so precious, but no one had found it yet. She stuffed it deep into her pack, but before she could go out to join the wolves in her kitchen, she noticed a fluttering piece of paper tacked to the back of her door.
When she pulled it down, she saw directions, and coordinates that could be put into a GPS. They were all written in Lukas' tidy hand, and at the very bottom, she saw that he had written Forgive me.
Perhaps, she thought grimly. Perhaps I will when this is long over.
Tying her thick hair back into a ponytail, she went out to give this information to Mads.
***
Against their protests, Mads had sent his brothers home. They were furious about it, stating that Mads needed them, and that of course this was a trap. Tara had anticipated long debates, but all Mads had done was snarl at them both, and when Kalle looked like he wanted to contest the ruling, Mads stepped up to him to stare him down.
There was a long moment where Tara was afraid that they would come to blows, but then Kalle stepped back, breaking the contact easily and gracefully.
“We worry about you, big brother,” he said. “And if you're not back in a decent time, I swear that I'll send the whole war party after you.”
Mads smiled wryly. “Do that,” he said, “but I'll be back before you know I'm gone.”
Tara watched in fascination as Mads' brothers turned back into wolves. They were enormous, but when they barked happily and sat up for treats, anyone who didn't know what they were looking at would have passed them off for dogs.
Mads loaded them into the back of the truck, the same one that he had driven what felt like so long ago. They drove in silence for hours, until they came to the edge of a national forest, and both brothers vaulted out of the truck bed and were lost to the trees.
“They'll make better time going home like this,” he explained, and she raised an eyebrow.
“I guess it has nothing to do with the fact that they were both giving you so much trouble back at the house?”
Mads shrugged, smiling a little, and they got on the road again. It would be a long trip, and there was so much between them that they didn't know what to say.
It wasn't until hours later that Tara broke the silence, and when she did so, it was to ask a question that had been preying upon her for the better part of a year.
“Why did you do it?” she asked softly. “Why did you lie to me?”
Mads glanced at her, and though he looked back at the road very quickly, she could see the momentary grief and loss that came across his face.
“There were a lot of reasons,” he admitted. “Some of them I only understood later, some of them were simply because I was selfish and short-sighted.”
He sighed.“I looked at you, and in a heartbeat, I saw that you weren't a killer. That made you different from everyone else I had ever known, from myself, from my brothers. You lived a life untouched by this kind of violence, and I couldn't imagine you helping me. You would never condone me trying to find a weapon that was designed to end lives.”
“Why not wake up the Fenrisulfir?” she asked. “You told me about him. You told me that he would bring this all under his control.”
Mads laughed harshly. “The Fenrisulfir was a man who lived a long time ago, like King Arthur. He's more a story than anything real, and it's a fairytale that we tell cubs that he will return s
omeday.”
“A fairytale like werewolves and angels?” she asked archly, and he grinned wryly at her point.
“So you didn't trust me, and then you got what you wanted. Were you going to leave me on that field in Scotland?”
Mads' hands tightened on the wheel. “Never,” he said, looking straight ahead. “I went off to fight, and then I came straight to try to find you. I wanted to... to explain, to thank you for the good that you had done, even if you didn't see it. I wanted to do anything to win you back, because Tara, for me, it was never just about the sword. It hadn't been about the sword since I met you.”
He swallowed hard. “I knew that there was an angel unaccounted for. I fought three. I killed three, but I saw four in the sky. What do you think I felt when I followed your trail, and it just... ended in the middle of nowhere?”
“What did you do?” she asked, her mouth dry.
His laugh was a hopeless sound.
“I searched. I searched all night and into the next day. I howled for you, I screamed your name. Around every stone and down every gully I thought I would find your broken body, where an angel dropped you. That's one way they kill, did you know that? They lift you into the air and just....drop you.”
She shivered, because she could see him doing it. She could all too easily imagine him baying for her in the darkness of the Scottish country side, and then finding nothing.
“Why did you go to him?” Mads asked. “Why an angel, why that?”
“Because the Three in One sent him to me,” she said softly. “When... when you lied to me, when you lied to my face about what I was to you and what you needed me to do, I was sick right to my heart, Mads. I couldn't take it. I ran, and I knew that you would just come after me and convince me that it was all fine. You could do that, and I needed to find my own strength. I needed to think about what you had done and to find out if I could forgive you on my own. I couldn't wait for you to tell me what to think.”
“And now that you've had the time that you need to think about it?”
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