Shifter Bound
Leisl Leighton
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Shifter Bound
Pack Bound Series: Book Three
Leisl Leighton
One pack, one coven, a destiny intertwined…
Five hundred years ago, facing extinction, a group of powerful witches united to create a pact with the Were to save witch-kind. The pact expelled an ancient evil, known only as the Darkness, that was blocking the Were from their wolves. With the Darkness destroyed, the Packs and their covens grew strong as they thrived beside each other in their brand-new world.
But the Darkness was not destroyed.
Shifter-Witch, Eloise O’Brien, has betrayed her coven and almost killed her brother to save the Were Pack she’d infiltrated as a spy. Now living with the Were she once feared and hated, she learns the truth of who she really is—the prophesied Nexus. A witch of unspeakable power, she must make a choice between the light and the dark, between Iain McShane, the Lone Wolf she is coming to love, and her once-beloved brother and coven who are now working for the Darkness.
About the author
LEISL is a tall red head with an overly large imagination. As a child, she identified strongly with Anne of Green Gables. Given that she is a voracious reader and born performer, it came as no surprise to anyone when she did a double major in English Literature and Drama for her BA, then went on to a career as an actor, singer and dancer, as well as scriptwriter, stage manager and musical director for cabaret and theatre restaurants (one of which she co-owned and ran for six years). After starting a family Leisl stopped performing and instead began writing the stories that had been plaguing her dreams. Leisl’s stories have won and placed in many competitions in Australia and the US, including the STALI, Golden Opportunities, Heart of the West, Linda Howard Award of Excellence, Touch of Magic and many others. Leisl lives in the leafy suburbs of Melbourne with her two beautiful boys, lovely hubby, overly spunky dogs, Buffy and Skye, and likes to spend time with family and friends. She is addicted to the Syfy channel, and her shelves are full of fantasy and paranormal books and sci-fi DVDs. She sometimes sings in a choir, has worked as a swim teacher, loves to ski, can talk the hind leg off a donkey and has been president of Romance Writers of Australia from 2014 to 2017.
Acknowledgements
I couldn’t have done this without my husband, Mark, who takes care of all things techie and listens to me ramble about characters and plotlines that are as real to me as he is. Thankfully he loves me and knows I’m not insane. Thanks to my two beautiful boys, Jacob and Nathaniel, for doing the same—it can be tough sometimes to have a mum who lives in another world!
Thanks to my family and close friends—especially my parents, Kerril and Jim—for their never-ending encouragement and support and helping me out with the kids when I had a deadline that was making me lose hair.
Aside from great family and friends, a writer needs a Coven of writing peeps all their own. Thanks to my friends in my writing groups—Liz, Laura, Chris, Marnie, Frana and Helena. I couldn’t have gotten here without you. Thanks especially to Marnie and Anyo, the best Beta readers a gal could have. And a big shout out to all my friends in Romance Writers of Australia—you are inspiration and mentor rolled into a big ball of supportive writerly love. Thank you.
The final people I have to thank are my agent, Alex Adsett—for believing in me and my work in the first place—and Kate Cuthbert at Escape, who took a chance on these books and brought new life to them. You both make me feel like I can shine. Thank you.
For my two boys, Jacob and Nathaniel, to remind them that every problem can be overcome with friendship, trust and love.
Contents
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…
Prologue
Northern Scotland, 1502
Weak, grieving, helpless, Bridgette watched as Morrigan rained fiery retribution down on the village. Like some Celtic goddess, hair and gown blown back by Fae wind, wrapped in Darkness, she poured her wrath down on the villagers responsible for the murder of her beloved sister.
Bridgette was the only one left who could stop Morrigan from falling into the abyss, and she’d tried, Goddess, she’d tried. But there was little she could do from the ether. It was like a wisp of fog standing in front of a ravaging storm. However, she had to try one last time. For the dead Morghanna, her newborn son, and all the generations of witch and Were who would follow—if she didn’t succeed, all would suffer.
Fighting the exhaustion that made every movement through the ether torture, she cried out, ‘Morrigan. Please. Do not do this. Morghanna would not wish it.’ Morrigan didn’t acknowledge she’d heard, but a tendril of the Darkness that surrounded Morrigan, coating her with its unreasoning hatred the way it had done the Were, broke free from the whole and rushed towards where Bridgette’s astral self floated. A whoosh, like the whisper of a thousand voices crying out in the void, followed in its wake.
She turned and fled, the electric cold of the Darkness nipping at her heels. She couldn’t let it touch her. Not here. She tried to move faster, but she was too tired; the thread that connected her to her body stretched thin and weak, the ether now almost as thick as mud. She wasn’t going to make it.
An icy tendril caught her heel. Instant despair filled her. Raging grief at Morghanna’s loss. She almost stopped, almost gave in, but Malcolm’s voice came to her out of the distance.
‘Mo ghrá. Come back to me.’
‘Malcolm!’ She dived forward, tearing her foot from the tendril of Darkness. It followed, sending a chill as cold as an ice shard through her nerves. ‘Malcolm.’
‘I am here. Follow my voice. I love you. Come back to me.’
The Darkness behind her halted then surged—had it heard him? Terrified that it might use her to get to Malcolm and Morghanna’s baby son, she realised there was only one choice. They’d only had ten years—not enough—but to save them she’d give up every ounce of happiness she’d ever had. Touching her astral hand to the tether, she said, ‘Forgive me, my love. Look after my children and Morghanna’s son as if they were your own.’ Then she wrapped her hand on the tether and pulled.
It was so thin, it gave with hardly any force. Pain shot through her, bright and sharp. Somehow, she could feel her body as if still attached to it. Malcolm’s arms were around her, her head pressed to his warm, strong chest. For a brief moment, she wanted to change what she’d done, return to her beloved, but the cold of the Darkness lingered too close.
She must protect the ones who meant the most to her. She would protect them forever.
The heart in her body shuddered. It tried to beat on, once, twice and then with a final throb it stopped. Her astral self floated away. Soon it would break apart, lost in the ether, lost to eternity.
Before her rose a lilac mist. Tendrils whispered out to her, inviting, caressing, coaxing. All she was, all she wanted, all she had, was on the other side of that mist.
For your sacrifice, I will reward you. You will not be lost here. Your essence will go on. Simply come to me. Embrace the possible future.
The voice shivered through her, filling her with enough power to dive towards it.
The Darkness screamed; a tearing sound that threatened to shred her mind of happiness and hope. But it was too late. It couldn’t stop her from taking this one final leap of faith.
As she fell into the mist, she heard Malcolm’s voice crying out, ‘Come back to me, mo ghrá. You promised me forever.’
She hated the terrifying grief in the sound, hated that she’d made him cling to life to look after their family when she’d taken her own, but knew he would do it for her. Knew he would understand. He would live. And then after that… ‘Forever,’ she whispered before her conscious thoughts broke apart.
Chapter 1
‘Forever.’
The word was a whispered breath of sound, so soft and low that Iain thought he’d misheard it. But then her eyelids fluttered and her lips moved over the word again. He sat forward. ‘Eloise?’
Her eyes snapped open—those beautiful golden-green peridot eyes—and she looked right at him. ‘Mal? Where am I? What happened?’
‘I’m not Mal. I’m Iain.’
‘Iain?’ She frowned, confused.
‘It’s okay. You’re safe.’
She smiled softly, lifted a hand as if to touch him. ‘Of course I am safe. You are here.’ Her eyes fluttered and then she was gone again.
‘Damn it.’ Iain thumped the arm of the chair.
‘Did I miss something?’
Iain looked up as Bron entered the room. ‘She woke up again.’
‘How long was she awake this time?’ Bron bent over Eloise, putting one hand over her patient’s forehead and the other over her chest.
‘Not long.’
‘Did she say anything?’
‘She was whispering something about forever when she woke up, but not much else.’ He sat forward, fingertips pressed to his lips. ‘She looked right at me this time, but then her eyes went foggy and she was gone again.’
Bron breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. Iain waited in silence, skin prickling at the use of her magic. Finally, she pulled her hands away from Eloise and straightened. ‘She’s asleep.’ She smiled. ‘Her body is healing itself in a natural way now. Finally.’ She breathed out a sigh. ‘She’ll probably wake again soon and be awake longer next time.’
‘That’s good. You can start working with her then to control it.’
She looked thoughtful. ‘Have there been any other episodes?’
He shook his head. ‘Not like last time. Her heart’s still thrumming like a hummingbird, though, when she’s dreaming.’
‘The dreaming isn’t hurting her.’
‘The flames don’t seem to either.’ Those flames that resembled the flames of power that surrounded Skye and Bron and Shelley when their power was building. Flames that usually were only found in witches with ties to the original lines. Flames that were indicators of significant power held within. ‘Has Cordy figured out what they are yet?’
‘No. She’s as lost as we are. But she and Shelley are pouring through the diaries, trying to find out information.’ She frowned. ‘What they do agree on is that they are an expression of uncontrolled raw power, and that is never good.’ She touched the leather cuff on Eloise’s wrist. ‘It seems this is working.’
‘I thought Cordy said it was only a stopgap measure.’
‘It is. She needs to wake up so we can truly help her.’
He took her hand in his as she stood. ‘And we will.’
She touched his face, then brushed his hair off his brow. ‘Yes, we will.’
His wolf hummed in pleasure at the caress, but he turned back to the bed and the woman in it. Behind him, Bron sighed.
‘If you want to take a break, I’ll stay with her.’
‘No. It’s okay. I’ll stay.’ He avoided looking at her, but could feel her gaze like a hand hovering just above his skin.
‘She isn’t your responsibility alone, Iain.’
‘I know.’
‘If I’d known you’d tie yourself to her when I asked you to stay, I wouldn’t have asked.’
‘I want to stay.’
‘I don’t want you damaging your wolf.’
‘My wolf is fine.’
‘I can feel your desire to roam. It’s like an itch I can’t quite reach.’
‘It’s my itch, though, and I’m fine with it.’
‘Are you?’ She touched Eloise’s hand. ‘And this… she… has nothing to do with the dreams you’ve been having?’
His jaw twitched. He hated that she could see so much. ‘Don’t try to see more than is here, Bron. I’m simply here because it’s the right thing to do. She helped save my life. I owe her. That’s it.’
She watched him for a moment longer. He relaxed his shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t question him further. He fought the desire to stretch his fingers, release the tension by cracking the knuckles. Bron knew him too well, knew his signs. He had to give nothing away. He didn’t want to talk about why he was still here. He didn’t fully understand it himself. He’d been so angry when Bron had kept him bed-bound for longer than he thought was necessary. He hadn’t wanted to wait until his wounds were fully healed. All he’d wanted was to run free. To forget that feeling of helplessness he’d been unable to shrug off since that night before Yule last year when Morrigan had taken him, River and Gareth prisoner and tortured them, almost killing him and Gareth. He never wanted to feel like that again.
Then he’d found out Eloise was here, seen her lying in this bed. She was tall, but still managed to look small. No, not small. Fragile and delicate, like a little bird. Or like Sleeping Beauty. With her mane of tawny hair and the freckles splashed across her nose like little drops of brown sugar on cream, she did resemble the fairy-tale princess. Except there was nothing restful about the expressions that crossed her face.
As the days passed, he’d spent more and more time at her side, watching, trying to figure her out, until it had got to the point where he’d been unable to make himself leave, even for more than the time it took to take a run. It should have been torture to him, to his Lone Wolf soul, and yet his wolf didn’t want to leave her either. It didn’t make any sense.
His gaze slid back to her face as it so often did. He’d studied her for hours each day, and yet, every time he looked at her, he saw something new. Which was kind of surprising. There wasn’t much to her. Fragile bones. Too-pale skin. Lips that held a stubborn pout even in sleep. She wasn’t pretty—her eyes too big, mouth too wide, chin too pointed—and yet there was something about her that stayed in his mind even when he wasn’t with her. Striking. That’s what she was. Ethereal.
Purple smudges marked the skin under her eyes today. Every now and again she tossed her head, lips muttering words he couldn’t catch. Her eyes moved constantly under almost translucent eyelids—eyes he’d been unable to forget since seeing them in Morrigan’s cave that night. Eyes he’d seen so often in the cat that had watched him warily last year. She’d spied on them, giving Morrigan information that had almost allowed her to destroy them, but then she’d saved them all.
None of it made sense. He wanted her to wake up, to answer his questions, to help him put a stop to this endless fascination.
He realised he was leaning forward, his fingers stroking the edges of her hair. Tawny like a lion’s mane, it was thick and shiny despite her having been in a coma for over two months. It felt like silk.
He turned, saw Bron watching him. Damn! He’d forgotten she was there. Making out like he was just re-settling her pillow, he sat back. ‘Is Mal one of her old coven?’
Bron shrugged. ‘None of the ones we have are called Mal—although it could be one of the ones who got away with Morrigan.’
His gaze returned to Eloise. He wished he knew who Mal was and why that was the first name to her lips upon waking.
/> ‘How about you stop growling at me before River comes in here and shoves that growl down your throat,’ Bron said.
He snapped off the growl. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise.’
She stroked her hand over his hair. ‘I know.’
He thought she was going to say something else, push him further about his need to be here with Eloise, but instead she bent and kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll bring you some lunch, but after you’ve eaten, I want you to go for a run. You’ve been in this room too long.’ He opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. ‘River will sit with her.’
His mouth snapped closed. If anyone else had a right to look after Eloise, it was River. ‘You’re evil, you know that, don’t you?’
She laughed. ‘I try.’ She pointed at him. ‘Lunch, then run.’
‘I promise.’
She flashed him a bright smile. ‘Good.’
The door closed behind her. He returned to watching Eloise.
Bron brought him his lunch later and after eating it, he went for the promised run. He usually loved being out in the open spaces, the freedom of running under the clear blue sky, the brush of long grass against his legs, the briny scent of the ocean in his lungs. He could run forever, except…
He didn’t want to. There was a pull inside him, a pull to return to the packhouse. To not go too far. But he didn’t have to go far to let his wolf out to play.
He ran across packland down to the ocean, climbed down the cliff face. His feet pounded on the sand, the spray cold against the warmth of his skin as he ran. It was a private beach, accessible only from the McVale land, and there were sentries around to ensure it stayed that way. Knowing he would be left alone for as long as he wished, he shed his clothes and gave in to the press of his wolf under his skin. With a burst of rainbow glow, he transformed, black and silver hair shimmering in the breeze as he leapt down the beach, paws eating up the sand.
The joy as he ran was almost enough to rid him of the itchy need to return to his sentry duty. With a loud bark, he let his wolf completely off the leash, stretching out muscles that had only recently healed. He romped into the surf, snapped at the waves, chased seagulls off the sand and explored the rock pools at the far end of the bay. A crab snapped at his nose when he upset it sniffing at the seaweed it was hiding in. He jumped back with a yelp. Chuckling, he pranced away to go and roll in the sand and enjoy the sun.
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