Lonely Moon (The Wolf's Bane Saga Book 2)

by M. Katherine Clark

  “I have nae intention of letting that happen, Kinnon,” Mabh answered. “Besides when I put my mind to something I want, nae obstacle is too great.”

  Chapter

  Twelve

  “That is enough, Alpha,” her voice came through his haze. “You have been abed two days with fever. I told you no’ to have a fever, but you did nae listen to me. Now that is enough. ‘tis time for you to wake. Your people need you and I am tired of speaking to someone who will nae reply. Perhaps I should find myself another male to communicate with.” Dreaming, Marrock hummed in disagreement. “Then wake. For I grow tired of your lack of will to overcome your fever.”

  For a dream, the angel was not what he expected. Cutting through the haze, Marrock attempted to open his eyes only to be met with a brilliantly bright yellow light. It hurt his sensitive eyes that he closed them tightly and turned his head grunting in consternation. There was an odd sound almost as if drapes were being pulled, but it was a dream, there were no drapes in his dream, only the angel who was also a demon. Her fingers soothed one moment and aggravated the next. But one thing was certain, she was not of his world.

  She sighed harshly.

  “Very well then,” she said. “’Tis on your head, Alpha. We will name someone else Alpha and I will mate them and all will be well.”

  Nay, he wanted to scream though he knew not why. An angel could marry whomever she wanted, why would she pick him? Before he could respond, the darkness overcame him once more and he slipped into oblivion.

  ***

  Mabh looked up when the door to Marrock’s room opened slowly. Her yellow eyes flashed in warning to whoever was entering without knocking or announcing their intention. When Weylyn poked his head inside, she relaxed.

  “I have the healer,” he said. “I also wanted to see if you would like a reprieve.”

  “I am well, I thank you, Weylyn,” she answered. “He has yet to wake. Nae amount of urging and encouragement will rouse him. I fear for him.”

  “Nay need to fear for the lad,” the healer stepped around Weylyn and came into full view. The old female was hunched over and her grey hair was tousled. One healer for a pack of over two hundred wolves was showing its wear on the old wolf. Weylyn carried her pack of herbs and walked just behind her. The healer gazed down at Marrock’s sleeping form and nodded to Weylyn to remove the furs that covered his chest. Once they were removed, Mabh gasped. Two days should have been plenty of time for a wolf to heal, especially an alpha who healed at a faster rate, but Marrock’s dagger wounds were still oozing blood and another clear liquid. The marks were angry red and one wound just below his heart was especially ugly. The old healer clucked her tongue.

  “I promise I changed the linens just as you taught me,” Weylyn whimpered.

  “Aye, you did well lad,” she answered as she leaned forward even closer. “I see you mixed the poultice just as instructed this is nae your doing.”

  “Then what, lighiche?” Mabh asked using the traditional term for healer.

  “These wounds, they were nae inflicted by human hands,” she said. “This is Druid magic.”

  Weylyn jumped to his feet. “We must tell father. He needs to ken this. We will go out and hunt one of them down, drag him back to the keep if needed and force him to heal Marrock.”

  “How do you ken when you demand he heal him he will in fact heal him?” Mabh asked. “Go and retrieve Kinnon, aye, but be rational, Weylyn.”

  With a glance at Marrock again, Weylyn nodded and left the room.

  “What can be done?” Mabh asked the healer.

  “Weylyn is a good lad but he is a bit rash,” she answered.

  “Nothing age and learning will nae cure,” Mabh replied.

  The old female placed her hands on her thin hips and looked Mabh in the eye.

  “For one so young you are very wise,” she said.

  “A tribute to both tragedy and a life well lived,” she answered. “Now what can we do for Marrock?”

  “My father taught me about the ways of the Druids,” she said. “He was ostracized for his beliefs that we owe our origination to Druids.”

  “I ken well your family’s beliefs, Meera,” Mabh replied. “But do you have the needed items to heal our alpha?”

  “I might,” she answered. “But it takes one special ingredient.”

  “Namely?” Mabh asked.

  “The blood of the one who loves him the most,” she locked eyes with her.

  “How much blood?” she asked not lowering her gaze.

  “But a small vial,” she said.

  “Then go about getting the needed items,” Mabh answered. “If this will indeed cure our alpha and the wolf I love, then ‘tis a small price to pay.”

  “’Tis a great price to pay if the spell is nae accurate,” Kinnon’s voice drew their attention. They both turned to see the tall, slender wolf standing in the doorway, his son beside him. “I heard all, Meera, but I cannae condone a bloodletting sacrifice.”

  “’Tis nae a blood sacrifice, Kinnon,” Mabh replied.

  “Och aye? And what precisely is it?” Kinnon asked.

  “’Tis Druid magic,” Weylyn said.

  “Aye ‘tis, lad, but ‘tis also the only thing that will keep Marrock alive,” Meera explained. “Have I your permission to use this spell?”

  Kinnon looked from one to the other.

  “How do I ken the spell is in fact correct?” he asked.

  “’Tis a sad day when my healing abilities are questioned,” Meera shook her head.

  “Nae questioned, simply mistrusted,” Kinnon replied. “This is our Alpha.”

  “Aye I ken who the lad is, I am nae so old,” Meera answered.

  “You do the healing on someone else before you do it on my nephew,” Kinnon said.

  “I donnae ken the spell used on the daggers in order to recreate it on someone else,” she rebuttaled. “Allow me to do this and I promise I will reclaim the name my father so foolishly lost.” At his hesitation she took a step closer. “I love him as much as you do, Kinnon. I brought him into the world and I intend to leave it long before he does. Trust me, old friend. You allow your son to train with me, have I filled his head with druid nonsense?” At Kinnon’s side glance at Weylyn, he nodded slowly.

  “Then do it,” Kinnon replied. “But if I find even one hint of something amiss, I will dig deeply for my alpha blood dormant for all these years and I will punish you, do I make myself clear?”

  “Aye, you do,” she answered. “And I swear on my life, there will be nae reason for that.”

  “Then proceed.”

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  Marrock slowly woke to the setting sun shining through the balcony archway. He became aware of a pillow, furs, and the soft comforts of his own room. But where was his angel? Had she left him? He could hear the buzz of annoying whispers surrounding him. Could his angel be among them?

  Slowly he moved his head away from the sunlight and opened his eyes. No angel. But there were three outlines standing near the archway. Unable to make out who they were and unable to recognize the whispered voices, he merely growled. All three figures turned towards him.

  “Marrock,” he recognized his uncle’s voice. “All is well. You are safe. You are in your own room back at the keep. Do you remember what happened, lad?” Kinnon’s face came into focus and blocked out the painful piercing light of the sun.

  “The sun,” Marrock grumbled. “Please, draw the curtain.”

  Kinnon ordered the drapes to be closed, washing the room in darkness apart from the roaring fire and the few candles that were lit around the room.

  “Marrock,” Kinnon’s voice was soothing as he moved his hair off his forehead.

  “Where is my angel?” Marrock breathed.

  “Who?” Kinnon asked.

  “Angel,” he said again. “She helped me through.”

  “I believe he means Mabh,” Kyna’s voice came next.

  “Oh,” Kinnon replied.
“She went back to her cottage. She saved your life, Marrock.”

  Marrock said nothing only hummed and closed his eyes again.

  “We moved you from her cottage to your room,” Kinnon went on. “Would you like us to send for Mabh? She will want to ken you are awake.”

  “That female…” Marrock started. “Has some unnatural hold over me.”

  “You are in love with her,” his aunt, Kyna placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder and smiled at her nephew. “And she gave up something very important for you.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “She gave you life at the risk of her own,” Kyna went on.

  “What do you mean?”

  Kinnon sighed and looked down. “Your wounds were inflicted by Druid weapons, lad. They were no’ healing and Meera explained that it was because the wounds were laden with Druid magic. But there was a potion that could only be given by the one who loved you the most. And it was Mabh.”

  Marrock closed his eyes for a moment as if his head ached, then looked over at his uncle.

  “The one who loves me the most? Who would love me?” he stated. “Now I would like to sleep again.”

  “If you feel able,” Weylyn’s voice came next. “There is quite a crowd outside. They worry for their Alpha. If you are strong enough, you should reassure them.”

  “Aye, cousin, I donnae need ye to tell me my duties,” Marrock replied.

  “That was nae my intention, Marrock,” Weylyn answered. “I apologize, I merely… I wished to tell ye about the pack outside.”

  Sighing, Marrock sat on the edge of his bed, and paused as his head spun. “Why can this pack no’ give me a moment to meself?” he mumbled. Finally, he stood and ignored his uncle’s offer to help. Slowly, he walked to the balcony hoping the late sun would not hurt his eyes. He stepped out onto the balcony just as a mighty cheer went up, which did not help his headache.

  “I thank ye for your loyalty and concern, but I assure you I am well. Now, back to your cottages for some well-deserved celebration. The wolves in my charge will be coming to your homes soon to share a drink from our cellars,” Marrock addressed his pack.

  “Sire, are we under attack?” A male voice called out.

  “Was it war they be after?” Another voice cried.

  “’Twas an act by but a few,” Marrock answered. “They have been dealt with and there is nae threat.”

  “Even if it was nae, ‘twas an attack against our alpha,” Marrock recognized Faolán’s voice. The hot tempered young wolf was only around fifty years old, not yet reaching maturity and he was still a child in many ways. “We should march out and find whoever did this!”

  There was a cheer of agreement. Marrock raised another hand.

  “Silence!” he shouted an Alpha order. Immediately, the crowd went quiet. He continued with the order. “There will nae be a fight. You are no’ to instigate a riot, Faolán. I thank you for your loyalty and ‘twill be well rewarded, however, this was an act of but a few and they have been dealt with. Now, enough of this. As you see, I am perfectly healthy and I will see you all at the arena tomorrow. Good night.”

  Marrock turned and walked back into his room motioning for Weylyn to close the drapes.

  “You will no’ be fighting tomorrow,” Kinnon said firmly crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Nay, I only said that to assure them,” Marrock explained. His eyes went to his bed, eager to fall into the soft furs that covered it and the feather filled pillow that cradled his head. But instead he went over to his chest and pulled out a fresh tunic and trousers. “I do wish to change all of my clothing, Aunt. If you would excuse me.”

  Kyna nodded and headed to the door, gently touching his face as she passed.

  “We are glad you are awake and well, lad,” she said softly.

  “I thank you for taking care of me,” he replied.

  She patted his cheek and headed to the door. Turning before she left she called his name.

  “Donnae ever ask who would love you, for your uncle and I love you deeply,” she stated then disappeared out the door.

  Marrock looked down and away from his uncle’s and cousin’s prying eyes. As he attempted to remove his clothing, he stumbled and immediately felt his uncle’s hands on his arms steading him.

  “I am well,” Marrock said.

  “Nay you are no’,” Kinnon replied. “There is nae shame is asking for help once in a while, Alpha.”

  Weylyn picked up the clean trousers Marrock had dropped and offered them to his cousin. Seeing the look between Kinnon and Marrock, Weylyn took a step back, bowed slightly and spoke.

  “I will see if Mother needs help in the kitchen,” he said. Kinnon nodded his approval and Weylyn left them alone.

  “Are you well, lad?” Kinnon asked. “Tell me the truth I beg of you.”

  Sighing harshly, Marrock knew his uncle would never leave him be.

  “They were druids, Uncle,” he answered. “Three of them. Two females and a male. But the male…”

  “What?”

  “He was a shapeshifter,” he explained. “No’ the females, but he was old when I saw him and then before my eyes he became a young man. It… fascinated me.”

  “It would any man,” Kinnon replied. “The dagger he used, was it dotted with red gems?”

  Marrock’s eyes darkened as he recognized what his uncle asked but he shook his head.

  “Nay, ‘twas no’ Lucian’s dagger,” he answered.

  The tale was one every young wolf had learned. Lucian, the dark druid, crafted a dagger out of iron that fell from the sky and gems he found in the mountain. The dagger could kill any and all wolves by a single strike. But it also could kill immortal druids and as such was feared greatly all across the land.

  Long before the Romans invaded Britannia in 55 B.C., Lucian was cursed by the gods to be a hideous creature and walk alone for all time. The dagger he created was given to his son, aptly named Dagda. It was said that both Lucian and Dagda roamed the wilds of the Highlands for many years until they crossed the sea to Erin and were never seen again.

  “I was taken by surprise,” Marrock admitted. “It will nae happen again.”

  “Allow yourself a failure, Marrock, you are nae perfect,” Kinnon counselled.

  “I should be,” Marrock answered. “I am Alpha.”

  “And as alpha, you should ken you are nae perfect, that is the key to strength,” Kinnon replied.

  “Donnae tell me what I am and no’, Uncle, or have you forgotten you are nae king,” Marrock said through clenched teeth.

  “Nay and I never desired it,” Kinnon answered. “Come now, nephew, let us dress you.”

  ***

  Mabh watched her parents from her loft as they prepared dinner. Eara spoke to her husband as she dropped the vegetables into the pot over the fire. Conall still brooded over the fact that his mate took Kinnon’s side in the debate earlier.

  “My love, you ken the reason,” Eara stated. “Our alpha was dying and I kenned that Mabh would be able to save him.”

  “It does nae matter much, my sweet but I did nae like the way Kinnon looked at you.”

  “Oh I see,” she went on turning from stirring the cauldron. “You are jealous of him.”

  “Nay no’ jealous,” he looked away as she walked over to him.

  “You are,” she teased. Then taking his hand in hers, she raised it to her chest just over her heart. “Do ye doubt that your name is written here? Over my heart? Do ye doubt that you are the male I share a bed with? Do ye doubt that you are my soul mate?”

  “Nay,” he finally answered with a soft smile on his lips. “But I doubt my ability to compete with a wolf like him.”

  “A wolf like him? What does that mean?” she asked.

  “He is educated, and lives in the keep with the alpha, he is the alpha’s right hand, and me… I am naught but a poor warrior who cannae pen his own name.”

  Eara dropped his hand and took his face in her palms, forcing him
to look at her.

  “You are my life, Conall,” she said. “You are who I chose. I donnae care that Kinnon is educated, or that he lives in the keep or that he is the alpha’s lieutenant. I chose the wolf my heart sings to. I chose the wolf who I crave in the middle of the night. I chose the wolf I wanted as the father of my children. I chose you, Conall, no’ Kinnon.”

  Mabh smiled as she watched her father grip her mother to him and kiss her possessively. Creeping down the back stairs, she left the cottage hoping to give her parents some time alone. She headed down the alleyway she and Marrock had walked two nights earlier, all while her mother’s words rang in her ears.

  You are my soulmate.

  Mabh had heard of soulmates, they were the chosen ones from the gods. Wolves were given one chance to find them and if found they lived happily. But if they were not found, wolves would be forced to live a lonely life.

  I chose the wolf my heart sings to.

  Her heart sings for Marrock, but does his sing for her? Taking a deep breath of the chilly evening air, she looked both ways before sneaking out through the small hole in the wall that she had discovered as a child. Phasing into her full wolf, white against the light of the lonely moon, she bounded across the woods, through the small river and up the mountain enjoying the absolute freedom her wolf form gave her.

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  “You must be hungry, Marrock. The broth we have given you as you lay asleep did nae much to keep you hale and hearty.” The smell of fresh cooked venison made Marrock’s mouth water and his stomach growled as he followed his uncle into the dining area. Kyna and Weylyn greeted him with a smile and a cup of mead. Gratefully accepting both, he downed the sweet honey liquor in one swallow only to have it filled again by his cousin.