“So, yeah, we know how males think about females. And you need…” Patrin pulled in an audible breath. “We love you, chwaer. You’re a beautiful woman.”
“And too fucking sweet,” Fell growled.
Patrin said, “We just want you to be happy.”
“And safe.” Fell again.
Her eyes filled with tears. Patrin and Fell had changed so much. She’d seen them with the other shifter-soldiers. Their “men.” Her brothers were the alphas in charge of the deadly group. Even Wells treated them with respect.
“I am happy,” she said. Although she’d be a lot happier if Gawain and Owen would get their tails back to Cold Creek. “And I’m very safe. You two just finish up your job and get back here so you can start your lives, too.”
“Yes. We’ll see you soon, chwaer,” Patrin said gently.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‡
The damn software convention had lasted way too long, and Heather Sutharlan was tired. Being surrounded by humans for days would stress anyone, even a sociable wolf like her. It was good to be back in the Gods’ territory, even if this wasn’t her own Rainier Territory.
Behind the Wild Hunt Tavern, she loped up the outside steps to the second floor where Vicki lived with her mates.
Alec let her in. “Hey, Heather. They’re in Vicki’s room doing those exotic things you females like to do during your Gathering pregame.”
“You are so full of it.” With long familiarity, she punched his arm. Back when they were cubs, Alec and Calum had run with Heather’s littermates…with Heather trying to keep up. She’d never succeeded, and not because she was female, but because Alec and Calum were tricksy cougars and her brothers were bears.
A single wolf rarely won if going one-on-one against bigger, stronger felines and bears. Seemed like she still owed Alec and Calum a few sneaky pranks as payback.
Giving her an easy grin, Alec handed her a beer and waved her toward Vicki’s bedroom. “Got a new female in there for you to take in hand.”
“So I hear. Darcy, right?”
And why would that question make the big cahir laugh?
Heather tapped on the door and heard Vicki call, “Come.”
Tears prickled Heather’s eyes with her relief. Her friend’s voice was still strong and unchanged. She’d survived a violent kidnapping and kept right on going.
That’s one tough kitty. Heather’d liked the younger female the moment they’d met. Vicki might be a cat, but her style was as blunt and straightforward as Heather’s.
Entering, she gave a quick glance around the room. Bree and Emma were on the bed, Angie in the armchair, and a black-haired female by the dressing table. Vicki sat in a new rocking chair with…with…
“A cub?” Heather rubbed her face, afraid her eyeballs were protruding from her skull. “You had…”
Vicki wore an evil feline smirk. “Three babies, no less.” She nodded at the bed. “That’s Toren.”
The blanket in Bree’s lap held a baby. A tiny, tiny baby. Even as Heather’s fingers twitched, desperate to hold the cubling, her belly felt empty. Barren. Although her moon-courses were still steady, so many, many years had passed without life kindling within her that she’d given up hope.
Her expectation of finding lifemates had also died.
And those weak, useless emotions had no place in this room. It was time to rejoice with her friend. “Three cubs? Truly the clan increases.”
Vicki’s gaze was gentle. The observant cat had undoubtedly noted Heather’s momentary despair. During several Wild Hunt evenings, they’d indulged in tongue-loosening brews, and Heather had perhaps shared more than was wise.
Because Vicki was the sister of her heart if not blood.
Beside Bree, Heather leaned down to touch the cub’s tiny hand. “Toren, may the Lord and the Lady bless you with courage and a life filled with love,” she said softly.
In the armchair, Angie cleared her throat. “Heather, this is Artair.” She drew back the blanket to reveal a beautiful cubling with brown eyes.
Heather brushed her fingertips over his soft round cheek. “Artair, may the Lord and the Lady bless you with strength and a joyful heart.”
She turned to Vicki. “And who do you have?”
Her friend’s lips curved. “You ran with Alec and Calum as a child. You were one of my first friends here, taking the time to explain all these fucking Daonain traditions and helping keep me sane.”
Inexplicably, Heather found her throat was tightening.
“So, speaking of traditions, Calum and Alec say the custom is to do this with the first meeting.”
“Do what?” Heather frowned. Maybe Vicki had spoken too soon about being sane.
“Heather,” Vicki rose and handed Heather the golden-haired infant she held. “Heather Sutharlan, this is Sorcha whose name means radiant. Here is a cub for your arms and your heart to hold. Will you serve as her caomhnor?”
“Oh.” Oh my Goddess. Heather’s escaping breath carried joy. Sang of her acceptance. And as she gathered Sorcha closer into her arms, she felt a sweet aching tug deep within her chest as the new bond of love settled in place.
As the ancient words came to her, her voice was thick and full of tears. “Aye. I will serve as her guardian-protector, teaching her and loving her for as long as my heart beats and the blood flows in my veins.”
Darcy felt tears spilling down her cheeks at the joy in Heather’s face. At the peace in Vicki’s expression as she patted Heather’s arm and resumed her seat.
Bree and Emma were sniffling.
Angie’s eyes were damp, but she lifted her glass of wine. “To cublings. The clan increases.”
Everyone lifted their glasses. “The clan increases.”
Wakened by the noise, Toren kicked up a fuss about wet diapers, and by the time he was changed, everyone was settled again. Emma made the rounds with more wine.
As Darcy sipped hers, she gave a happy sigh. Celebrations and family and babies.
And wasn’t it simply amazing to be free and able to drink wine, dress up, and gossip? Like a normal female.
She smiled at Heather who was still snuggling Sorcha. The female from Rainier Territory was around five-eight and slender with a thick mass of red-brown hair held back in a braid. She wore nice jeans, a snug golden top, and expensive cowboy boots.
Seeing Darcy, she smiled, open and comfortable. “You must be Darcy. Welcome to the Territories.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to be here.”
“So, Heather.” Bree waved a hand at Darcy. “Since she was a captive, she doesn’t know makeup, and we told her about your mad skills. Can you help get her ready?”
Heather grinned. “Absolutely. Makes me feel like an artist.” She handed Sorcha back to Vicki, grabbed her bag, and pulled a chair over to join Darcy at the dressing table.
Darcy glanced around, rather surprised that a bedroom was big enough to fit them all comfortably. Darcy looked around. “This is a great room, Vicki.”
A painting of the forested mountains around Cold Creek set a peaceful tone. An old-fashioned quilt of blues and greens was echoed by a green handmade rug on the hardwood floor. The well-filled bookcase occupied one wall, a dark wood dressing table with a beautifully carved mirror another. “But I didn’t realize a female would have her own bedroom and each male would have a separate, complete apartment.”
Vicki rocked gently as she nursed Sorcha. “Most littermates share a house, and each person has their own bedroom. This room was originally designed for the female, and as with most shifter houses, the male bedrooms had surrounded it. But since Calum and Alec didn’t share Calum’s first mate, they remodeled the floor into two separate apartments. Now I’m here, and they’re sharing everything again. Alec doesn’t use his apartment much.”
Heather stroked a dark brown shadow on Darcy’s eyelids. “Every mate-set chooses how they arrange the bedrooms. Some female bedrooms are huge, and the males join her there. That’s assuming they sha
re in bed, since some shifters prefer one-on-ones.”
Breanne studied Vicki’s queen-sized bed. “I don’t think you, Alec, and Calum would all fit on there.”
“We don’t. The guys have huge beds, and we usually all sleep together in a pile. They decided this room is mine alone.” Vicki’s lips tilted. “They know I sometimes need space—and wanted me to know if I came here to sleep, they’d honor my wishes.”
“Your mates are so nice. But”—Darcy frowned—“if you join them in their rooms, when do they get to be alone?”
Heather started applying mascara. “I like your Darcy, Vic. She reminds me of Emma—always wanting to know why.”
Emma grinned at Darcy. “Well, I need to know why. You want to know how everything works—and how to fix it. Together we could rule the world.”
Darcy smiled back. Oh, she did love these females.
Vicki burped Sorcha, handed her to Angie, and took Artair. “Your turn, munchkin.” She looked over. “Alec never wants time alone. The guy’s totally gregarious. When Calum needs solitude, he heads into the mountains. He has some places in the forest he visits and just…sits. I asked him once, you know, as a joke, if the Gods visit him there, and he said, ‘Not always.’ ”
Bree stared. “Whoa, that’s a little scary.”
Darcy stared. “Uh-huh.” Then again, how did the Gods communicate? Was it in thoughts or images or…
“Here, your makeup is done.” Heather spun her around. “What do you think?”
“You’re an artist.” Darcy stared at herself. “My eyes look huge.”
“Mmmhmm. You have gorgeous eyes; they deserved to be played up.” Heather tucked her kit away.
Sipping her wine, Angie scrutinized Darcy. “Very sexy. We did well.”
The women had decided Darcy’s jeans and shoes would do, but she’d ended up in an emerald green tank top of Heather’s. The shirt was thin and not too low-cut, but somehow—when worn without a bra—appallingly revealing.
Vicki pursed her lips. “I better warn Alec there will be males fighting over her.”
“Very funny.” Darcy reached for her glass and realized no one was laughing. “You’re making a joke, right?”
“New and gorgeous female. Still wide-eyed. Yes, the males will work to get your attention any way they can.” Emma gave her a serious look. “You need to remember, Darcy, everything is up to you. If the gnome-brains want to fight, and you’re not into battles, walk away and find a male more to your liking.”
There were only two males to her liking. But she’d gone by their house earlier, and everything was dark. Why, why, why hadn’t they returned?
“Hell, we need to get moving.” Vicki rose. “If we’re late for the Daonain meeting, Calum will be displeased.”
“Meeting?” Darcy asked.
“Meeting first, then Gathering.”
Gathering. Please, Gawain and Owen, get back. Please.
*
In the back of the pool table alcove, Owen sat on a bench against the wall. The fucking tavern was packed, cheek to jowl, with shifters. He’d hoped Darcy would be here but so far he hadn’t gotten a glimpse or sniff of her in this crowd.
There would be time when all the non-single Daonain cleared out.
He wanted to hold her, to talk with her, to hear her laugh. And, although the full moon wasn’t even up yet, he wanted to be inside her. To sandwich her between him and Gawain and take her, over and over.
But tonight was the Gathering. He and Gawain would have to see her go off with other males. Touch other males. Mate with other males. And he wasn’t sure he could. All his instincts called for him to claim her and fight anyone who thought to touch her. A low growl escaped him.
Beside him on the bench, Gawain glanced over. Obviously understanding Owen’s thoughts, he gave a low snarl of agreement.
They were so fucked.
Out of sight near the bar, Calum reported the happenings of the past month, made introductions, and all that. Blah, blah, blah. Owen ignored him as he would a scolding blue jay.
Would Darcy be happy to see them?
A hand clamped onto his shoulder, and he realized Gawain had stood up.
“What?” Owen growled. I’m thinking here.
“Calum welcomed Darcy to the clan—and the meeting’s over.” Gawain yanked Owen to his feet. “Let’s go find our female.”
*
The Daonain meeting had ended, and most of the mated shifters departed. Vicki, Bree, and Angie—and the babies—were still over at the fireplace sitting area. Emma had jumped up on top of the bar so she could strum her guitar and flirt with her lifemates, Ben and Ryder.
With Heather, Darcy’d stayed near the door. Feeling the full moon humming in her blood, she knew the Gathering would start shortly. Hoping against hope, she’d looked around during the meeting and hadn’t seen Gawain or Owen.
She was stuck at a Gathering without them. Would be mating…without them. Her stomach churned queasily.
Someone came in the door, and she held her breath.
Not Gawain and Owen—Patrin and Fell had entered.
“Hey, guys!” She gave Fell a big hug—and got the same back. “I’m glad you’re back. Are you two all right?”
Patrin pulled her into his arms for his own hug, then held her out at arm’s length. “What the fuck are you doing in this place?”
“I’m attending the Gathering, of course. It’s the law, remember?”
“What law?” Disapproval darkened his face. “Do you realize what happens here? Chwaer, it’s not a good place for a little female.”
Her lips curved. He was cute, all brotherly concern and acting as if she’d barely been weaned. Actually, she understood since sometimes she forgot he and Fell were adults and not twelve. “I don’t think—”
“How about we take you back to the lodge?” Patrin’s question was more of a demand.
“Yeah. We can talk.” Fell took her arm.
Fell talk? That’d be the day. That he’d even offered showed his worry. Still, she couldn’t leave. She knew the law, even if they didn’t yet. As she shook her head, she spotted two males making their way through the room, overtopping the mostly male population. Her heart did a slow somersault in her chest. Owen and Gawain?
When she started toward them, Fell’s grip tightened.
Patrin stepped in front of her, making himself a barrier. Back to her, he glared at Owen. “She’s leaving. Use someone else to get your rocks off.”
Darcy thumped his shoulder. “What did you just say?”
Patrin glanced back. “We heard a bit about this full moon shit. It’s an orgy, chwaer.”
“What’s an orgy?” Owen stepped closer, forcing Patrin to look at him.
And Gawain quietly circled to approach her from the side. “Darcy.” He held his hands out. His blue eyes were warm, and the sun lines beside his eyes crinkled with his smile.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you.” When she tried to go to him, Fell didn’t let her go.
Her hand fisted. No, don’t hurt him, tinker. After all, her brothers had always been over-protective. As Gawain’s eyes narrowed ominously, she told him, “Hold on.”
She turned and stared up at Fell. “Let. Go.”
His hand fell, but his expression turned grim. “Chwaer, no.” He touched her hair. “No orgy for you.”
“Darcy, you don’t know these guys. They want only one thing from you.” Patrin backed up to take her other side. “We love you. Let us—”
“Guys, I have to stay here tonight.”
“What’s going on?” Holding Artair, Vicki approached, her gaze assessing. Jamie was beside her.
Ignoring Vicki, Fell scowled at Darcy. “Chwaer, you’re leaving.”
Beside Vicki, Jamie put her hands on her hips, confronting Patrin and Fell. “Leave her alone. She’s not in your fucking army, so you can’t tell her shit.”
“Oh, fuck, Jamie, your language,” Vicki muttered. “Calum’s going to kill me.”
&n
bsp; “He is considering that possibility,” came the soft deep voice as the Cosantir strolled up.
Oh, Mother of All, why was there nowhere to hide? Darcy almost cringed. If prison had taught her anything, it was to avoid attracting attention from the person in charge.
Calum frowned at his daughter. “We’ll discuss appropriate language later. What is the problem here?”
Jamie pointed at Patrin and Fell and said indignantly, “They said our Darcy has to leave right now.”
“Did they indeed.” As the Cosantir regarded Darcy’s brothers, the power of the God shimmered around him. “The moon is rising. Were you planning to break the Law?”
Patrin frowned. “We’re not breaking any law. We simply came to get our sister.”
Darcy saw Calum’s eyes darken.
Oh, no. “Cosantir, please.” Darcy jumped between Calum and her brothers.
His dark, dark gaze fell on her. “Aye?”
“Patrin and Fell spent a decade with humans, learning to kill and nothing else. And…as I told you, my brothers and I never knew anything about the Daonain even before we were captured.”
Fell flinched.
“They don’t know what a Gathering is. They think it’s an orgy. Please, my brothers need instruction rather than…” She bit her lip, unable to continue. Don’t kill them, please, Cosantir.
Before Calum could speak, Alec’s infectious laugh sounded. The sheriff clapped a hand on Calum’s shoulder. “Don’t kill her littermates, brawd. It’s a pain in the tail at a Gathering to have to clean up your mess.”
Calum shot his brother an unreadable look, then his lips twitched and his eyes lightened to gray. “An orgy? Instruction is needed, indeed. Alec, please assign mentors to our new Daonain.”
Patrin’s eyes narrowed. “We already know how to shift.”
Alec gave him an easy grin. “That’s just the beginning. You need to learn to live within the Daonain traditions and Laws. How a female chooses a male, how you know if she’s interested, what the next step is.”
Her brothers looked blank, and Darcy remembered how Owen had lifted her wrist, how his first inhalation had given him the scent of her interest.
Leap of the Lion Page 36
