“I’ll get it, Saba. Your mate will be wanting to see you,” Roarke said from the door.
She nodded, looking at me as if for permission. I gave her a weak smile. “Go see your mate, Saba. I’m fine. Thank you for staying here with me.”
She ran off, smiling sadly at Roarke, who whispered a thanks before his eyes fell on me. How pitiful I must have looked, wrapped up in a blanket with swollen, red eyes, sniffing. I didn’t want him to see me this weak, especially after he chose me as his mate because of my strength and fire; there was none of that now.
He crouched in front of me, taking my fidgeting hands in his, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. I kept my head down, unable to look at him for fear that I’d break down again.
“Have you eaten?” he asked softly, his worry filtering through the bond. Worry and understanding.
I shook my head and he nodded. One of his hands lifted to tip my chin up until my eyes met his, dull brown meeting light, shimmering green.
“You need to eat,” he coaxed. “I know it feels like you can’t, but you need to build up your strength. Remember, I know what you’re going through. I understand. I’m not trying to be bossy. Just trust me?”
There was a weight behind what he said that told me he wanted me to trust him with far more than just knowing how to make me feel better or knowing how to care for me. For a short while, I had lost faith in him; I had been furious. My parents had been attacked on his land, but I knew I couldn’t blame him for that now. Nobody saw that coming. Whoever did this was playing smart.
“I do trust you,” I vowed, squeezing the hand that was still wrapped around my own, letting him pull me to unsteady feet and help me through to the kitchen.
I sat on the barstool, watching him stumble around the kitchen unsure of himself, my lips quirking into the smallest of smiles. I’d learnt something new about him: Roarke wasn’t comfortable in the kitchen, nor could he cook much more than a cheese toastie, which was all I thought I could have stomached. My mind was still whirring, going over every piece of information I had managed to gather about what happened. I knew I could get away with being allowed to mourn, but it felt disrespectful to my father to not try to find his killer, and it gave me some amount of distraction.
“Did you find Eagan?” I asked suddenly, feeling as though his answer would give me a piece of the puzzle.
Roarke shook his head, stopping his cooking to let his head drop wearily with a heavy sigh.
“There was no sign of him. His scent was all over the crash site, but then it disappears. Quillan tried to follow it but found nothing, which only makes me more suspicious. I don’t want to point blame, but—”
“You think Eagan is involved,” I interrupted, no doubt in what I said. “I always thought his interest in me to be odd. I’m nothing like the females he spends his time chasing, but going after me would have given him a pack, and that is something I know he craves.”
Putting the plate in front of me, he took a seat, resting his chin on his hands. I could see the wheels turning in his head as I picked and nibbled at the toastie. I could feel the relay of emotions through our bond that hummed comfortingly between us.
“Eagan isn’t smart enough nor gutsy enough to have done all this alone. Nor does he have any motivation to kill my parents if he thought he could manage to seduce you. There’s someone else behind this, someone with real power. I believe what you say about Eagan thinking he could be Alpha, but I don’t think he was involved from the beginning. Eagan was a good wolf and your father trusted him. We both know Everett was no fool,” Roarke countered, giving me a look. “But at the same time, he has gone missing, even though he would be in control of the pack right now had he stayed. It just doesn’t make any sense. If he wanted control of the pack, it would be his for the taking right now. There is always the chance that he could have gone after the killer himself or that he’s been captured.”
The start of a headache made itself known, making it that much harder to think. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes, hearing Roarke shifting to stand behind me.
“We can discuss this tomorrow. It’s late, and we could both do with a good night’s sleep,” he insisted, already picking me up into his arms before I could answer.
I began to protest at being cradled like a child, but the words fell short as I was pressed against him, finding comfort. I snuggled closer, letting my eyes fall shut again, too weary to fight my wolf, who was relieved to finally have her mate’s touch. A gentle rumble filled my chest, a sound of complete relaxation that I was no longer embarrassed of letting Roarke hear, even as he let out an amused chuckle.
Grief still had me tight in its grips, making each breath difficult as I fell into exhaustion. I knew that wolves were out there right now looking for my father’s killer. I tried not to think about how his body rested in the small clinic down the road, cold and alone. Instead, for once, I allowed my focus to fall solely on the sound of my mate’s heart beating as he lay down with my body cradled to his chest. Fingers wiped away tears from my cheek that I hadn’t even realised had begun to fall again.
Roarke pulled the duvet over me before flicking the lamp off so the room was blanketed in darkness. His fingers stroked through my hair and gently massaged my scalp as the sound of his wolf filled my senses. I could lay like this forever, away from the horrors of the world.
For what could be better than finding peace in the arms of your mate?
Glossary
Ailill: Known to humans as Elves, they are a noble and powerful race that tend to stick to themselves in a realm of forests and castles.
Laoch: A race of immortal Celtic warriors that reside in the land of Tir Na Nog, charged with the protection of the human realm and to defend the Gods that created them.
Clarsach: A small Scottish harp.
Wanderer: Wulvers that hold no loyalty to a pack or Alpha, they roam the land between pack territories and must seek permission if they wish to cross it.
Tir Na Nog: (Land of Youth) Known by many names, it is the realm in which the Celtic Gods and their creations, the Laoch, reside.
Shíoghras: Meaning eternal love, shíoghras are the destined soulmates of Ailill and Laoch.
Mo Buaireann: My temptation.
About the Author
Rebecca is an Author, musician and singer/song writer based in Alyth, Scotland. She focuses her energy on her creative passions and uses her Highland roots to influence all aspects of her life.
Rebecca comes from a family of musicians and spent much of her childhood absorbing the sounds of traditional music while touring Scotland. Rebecca also has a keen interest in her genealogy as she descends from the countries travelling folk, a culture steeped in history and stories.
A proud Scottish person with a rich family heritage, Rebecca enjoys spending time with her loved ones, travelling her beautiful native homeland and performing with friends.
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