by Shelby Dean
Chapter 1
Reveals
Niamh
I fall to my knees in exhaustion and as my body hits the ground, I look up at the night sky. Watching the stars twinkle, multiple thoughts run through my head.
But I watch the stars and the moon for a few moments, letting the night sky take away all the bad for a few moments. Like it did when I was a kid. One last thought runs through my mind. I can’t die like this.
I haven't fought him off for all these years just so i would die the night I finally made my escape. My promise to my mom runs through my head as the memory surfaces.
“Mommy..” I break off on a sob. My mother gently but weakly caresses my cheek before she looks me directly in the eyes. “Survive Niamh, promise me you’ll… do.. Whatever it takes to.. Survive,” She wheezes out.
My eyes turn to steel as i know i need to promise this to my mom, so she can let go and move on. Even though I don't want her to. I take her hand and press it to my cheek.
“I promise momma.” I tell her. She smiles at me one last time, before her final breath leaves her and the light fades from her eyes. One last tear falls down my cheek, as I sit there on my knees, holding her limp hand.
I return from the memory, and the forest sounds surround me. I take in a deep breath, grunting at the pain. But I don't let it break me, or keep me down as I staggered to my feet.
I repeat my promise to her in my head, like a mantra meant to keep me on my feet. Stumbling through the forest, taking one step after the other. The moonlight washes over me and pain rushes through me with each step, but I fight.
The blood sleeps through my shirt, and I take my sweatshirt and press it to the wound. I need stitches, but I'm going to have to do it myself. I just need the material to do it.
I need to take shelter first before I do anything. But I need to get away from Crónán’s pack lands first. Just thinking his name has a shiver running down my back.
Shaking it off, I hike my bag higher up on my shoulders and continue on my run through the woods away from River Maigue Pack.
After a while, in the shine of the moonlight a few yards away there stands what looks like an abandoned cabin. I sigh in relief as the sprinkle of rain that started a while ago becomes a torrential downpour.
Before I start towards it, I look around squinting my eyes to try and see through the rain and after straining my ears to hear anything… I find nothing. I trudge through the thickening mud, and as I step onto the front porch and grip the front handle, I hear a twig snap.
Whirling around, I come face to face with one of Crónán’s lackeys. He grins at me, as if he had just won the jackpot and in one quick move I yank my mother’s sword out from behind my back.
His grin gets even wider, making him look even more deranged and crazy than he already is. He tries to advance on me, but in one swift upward arc, I slice his body from groin to the tip of his chin.
He looks at me in shock just before rage overtakes his features and he yells in bloody outrage. “Crazy bitch!”
He throws a fist at my face, but I swiftly duck and then throw an uppercut into his jaw, knocking him back off the porch. He pulls out a gun, and I freeze in shock. They have never pulled a gun on me before, because Crónán wants me alive to mate to his son. Dammit and I still have no idea why he does!
In the midst of me panicking in my mind, I hear an Oomph! And I break out of the panicked state I was in. Looking over to the side where the sound came from, I see a magnificent black wolf tearing the guys throat out.
The black wolf finishes, steps back and then in the blink of an eye shifts into the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. Black spots dance in my vision, and my last thought before I tilt to the side and pass out is that i'm going to blame it on the blood loss, not the gorgeous sight of the man that was before me. That is… If i survive.
Chapter 2
Revelations
Niamh
My eyes burst open, and everything comes flooding back and I abruptly sit up only to have pain rip through my stomach from my rib. “You need to lie back down.” I hear. I look over and see a guy my age, watching me.
I swallow, trying to sort out the wave of fear rushing over me at the sight of him. “Where am I?” I ask him. “You are inside my family’s house, you are in the Adare Pack.” he tells me.
I wring my hands, and after a few moments of debating, if they will take care of me while I'm healing then I’ll take it but I’m leaving after that. I’m not going to risk anyone else to the violence and bloodshed that splashes across my life like it's meant to be there.
So I ask the question that's been burning on the tip of my tongue.
“When will I be fully healed?” An elderly man that i didnt notice who has been standing in the doorway answers me. “In a couple days, you should be fully healed. It may be earlier with your royal lineage, we do not know, so for now just rest up.” he pauses, coughs a few times and then clears throat.
Whenever you feel ready to get back up on your feet, let Galvin or one of the guards posted outside your room know to find me and we will discuss you staying here and if you stay... how it will be determined where you stand in the pack,” the older gentleman tells me.
I take a deep breath, and ask another question. “Are you the Alpha?” I ask him. He chuckles. “Not anymore, no. My son is,” he answers. I give him a confused look. “Then why are you here instead of him?” I ask. He gives me a small smile.
“I am here because he wanted to give you space, there is something he wants to talk to you about but I insisted that it be after you have rested and healed.” I quirked a brow. I like this old man. I chuckle.
“Okay, and what's your name mister?” I ask him.
He laughs a good belly laugh and i'm surprised to feel a smile fall into place on my face. He stops laughing and smiles at me. “My dear, I am Fergus mac Róich.”
I give him a nod, returning somber as feelings of what feels like home runs through me. My home was razed to the ground, my parents murdered inside. I shake my head to rid myself of those thoughts and give him a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you Fergus,” I say to him. He smiles in return, and repeats the same sentiment to me.
I hear a bump, and look over at Galvin straightening up after hitting a desk that has a bunch of drawing material on them. My fingers twitch on their own accord, itching to pick up a pencil and sketch. “We are going to leave you in peace, although, I don't believe I got your name.” Fergus states.
I look over at him. “Niamh, Niamh Daill mister,” His eyes widen slightly but he recovers so quickly that I doubt I even saw it. Then he clears his throat and both Galvin and him leave the room, leaving me to my thoughts.
The next day I decide to get up, at least to walk over to the other side of the room to the drawing desk. My muscles protest, but I know if I don't get up and stretch, it will take longer for my body to heal.
Stretching seemed to always help after a brutal beating from Crónán. I walk over to my backpack they left here for me, and thanking that man in my head for grabbing it, I pull out a pair of my worn out denim skinny jeans, a loose t-shirt and some clean underwear.
Pulling them on, I grit my teeth against the pain that rushes through me, and I pull my hair into a loose ponytail. Pulling on my sweatshirt that has seemed to have been washed and dried, I open the door to my room quietly after grabbing my own sketchpad out of my bag along with a few pencils and a sharpener. I hear voices coming from downstairs, but not by the front door. So I silently make my way outside.
I look around, looking for a good place that I can draw in, and I see one off to the side, covered by a glove of trees, but enough sun streams through that there wi
ll be some warmth.
Walking cautiously over there, I sit back against one of the trees and start my calming session. Drawing is like therapy to me, it's the only thing that can help the wave of emotions running through to pass through safely.
I start out drawing the gorgeous man I saw who had saved my life. I draw the scene of him standing there in the torrential downpour, looking like a complete Adonis God. His abs sculpted to look like perfection, the ridges slightly curved but in all the right places.
His face comes next, and I draw his chiseled jawline, sharp nose, and bright green eyes that seem to stare straight into my soul. Next comes his hair… I bite down on my bottom lip as i curve, and swerve my pencil as I try to do him justice. The real thing just isn’t the same as seeing it all drawn out on paper.
After a while, my skin prickles, awareness seeps in and I take a few deep breaths before I look up. And I find myself looking right into the same eyes I just finished drawing and daydreaming about. I sit there, as if frozen in that space and time as he walks towards me.
My breath catches when he gets close enough that I can smell his scent, and I find my eyes trailing up his body, to finally rest on those eyes. I swear I’ve seen them before somewhere.
He gives me a quirk of his lips showing his dimples, and my breath wooshes out of me in one swoosh, as if I can’t breathe when I’m around him. I have no idea what’s going on, and faintly fear permeates the back of my mind making me snap out of full on gawking at this gorgeous man standing before me.
As if he knew what he was doing to me, and that i was full on checking him out and gawking at him, his quirk turns into a full blown grin and then he speaks.
“Niamh, if my father knew you were out bed so early in the healing process he would throw a complete fit,” he tells me, his voice low but he sounds… Amused.
I clear my throat, and only then do I realize he probably has full view of my sketch of him. I abruptly stand, shoving the pages into my sketchbook and shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I need to go find him anyway, he said he wanted to talk to me when I felt up to.” I say hastily as I rush off towards the house.
Little to my knowledge did some of my sketches fall out of my sketchbook in my haste to get away from him and the feelings he elicits in me.
Taking this time to show myself around, I walk around the house, admiring it.
I come to a room that has the door open and inside is Fergus, and the man with the green eyes. Hmm, makes sense he got here before I did since I decided to wander to clear my head. They both stop talking and look up at me when I step up to knock on the door to let them know that I was there. Fergus’ eyes widen and I clear my throat. “I’m feeling well enough to discuss what happens next,” I tell them.
“Niamh, how are you out of bed? Other wolves in your position would be in bed for a few days if not a full week!” Fergus exclaims. The man who has still not given me his name but apparently knows mine chuckles softly, amused by his father.
Anger fills me and plop myself down in the chair in front of the desk they are both standing behind. I look at both of them and steel my gaze.
“I’m not weak, and to be frank, no other wolves have been beaten to within an inch of their lives for the past 6 years and the very next day had to get up and do everything that was expected from them without the chance to rest. My body is used to it, now I would like to discuss what is next.” My voice is firm, with no room for argument and they both know it.
The man with green eyes clears his throat, and i look up at him. My breath catches in my throat, and time seems to stop around me as my eyes rove over his face, and my wolf pushes to surface, growling. I have no idea what's going on, AGAIN and my heart pounds in my throat.
His eyes flash, the green turning golden. Indication his wolf is close to the surface. A growl vibrates through his chest, and it takes me a moment to realize that he has said something. I look over at Fergus and he chuckles.
“Niamh, it seems that you are my sons mate,” he tells me. The moment that processes in my mind, the fear i felt earlier flashes through me in a huge insurmountable wave. I immediately stand up, and my body starts to tremble.
Flashes of my time with Crónán rush through my mind, one right after the other and I drop to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to fight them off, but i know i've failed when im pulled through into a memory.
I cry out as the glass smashes on my head and I drop to the floor curling into a ball. Tears streamed down my face and through the teary haze I see Crónán standing above me. He gives me another kick in the side and an agonizing scream rips through me.
“You pathetic piece of shit! Where were you?!” he screams at me. I let out a sob, knowing better than to respond, it just fuels his rage. “Fine, you don’t want to answer me? I guess I'm just going to have to ruin you so your mate doesn’t want you if he ever finds you!” he tells me.
I stared in horror as he unbuckled his belt and the realization of what's about to happen pours through me; making the blood in my veins run cold. I fight him off as much as I can but he overpowers me. I let my mind go completely blank, and I float through my good memories trying to emotionally detach myself from the situation.
I hear faint voices as the memory floats away, still leaving pain, and the feeling of him on top of me lingering behind. I shoot up into a sitting position and my breaths heave out of me, my mind trying to clear away the fog.
A hand touches my wrist and I jerk away. I look up and see Fergus. He has his hands up, as if he's approaching a dangerous animal. Some might suppose he is, if I was in his position I’m sure I look like a caged cornered, beaten animal. Concern is etched on his face, and I take in a deep breath and smile slightly at him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, ducking my head down. I hear a low growl and jerk my head up to see the man with the green eyes staring at me. I let out a breath slowly, and just watch him.
“Easy Cillian,” Fergus tells the man. The man takes slow but sure steps towards me and then crouches down next to me. He holds out his hand and takes mine in his, pulling me up onto my feet.
Electricity and warmth runs the length of my body and liquid heat pools down low at my navel. I suck in a gasp, and take a step back. The man, now known as Cillian puts his hand on my cheek, and looks into my eyes.
“I won’t ever hurt you love,” he whispers. Tears run down my face, and I take in a deep breath. I try to pull away from him, but I find that I can’t.
Inside, my feelings are a swirling mess but one thing I know for sure is that he feels like home. And a memory, or rather a dream fills my mind, and those green eyes are staring right back at me. The same scent fills my nose, and I gasped.
That lets me snap out of it, and I look back at Fergus, and then to Cillian. “You… You smell just like him… those same eyes….” I trail off, my eyes wide.
Cillian just looks confused and Fegus smiles widely. “I knew it,” Fergus says. “Knew what father?” Cillian asks him. The fact that Cillian is the Alpha gets filed in my mind for later, as I watch their exchange.
“Cillian, do you not remember those dreams you used to have a couple of years ago? The one of the white wolf?” Fergus cautiously asks him. Cillian looks at me and understanding dawns on his face after a few moments.
“Niamh, your family line has a power that's passed down through the generations. Your parents were murdered because of it… You have the power with one touch to another wolf, they can know where their mate is at, with your mate it can be sent in a dream…” He trails off. My head spins, and I grip the edge of the armchair i’m standing next to.
“You’re telling me that I sent a message to Cillian in my dreams? Some sort of mating call?” I ask him. Fergus nods.
“Niamh listen, with your mate, it's different. You are able to send a message through a dream, or send them a telepathic message if they are awake at the time. Now, with other wolves, you touch them with the intent, a mark appears on them and they are able
to tell where exactly their mate is at.” He pauses, looking over at Cillian then back to me.
“It’s sort of a tether that ties them to their mate until they are united. Your mother told me that these beings with the Wolf goddess’s magic in them… You… is only born into your family. Our kind has been dwindling in numbers since it was assumed that your family died off…” he pauses for a moment, as if to let me process that before continuing.
“Its been getting worse.. No wolf can mate with one that is not their destined mate, and so our numbers have been.. Its bad.” Fergus tells me, his face scrunching up with worry and exhaustion.
I heave a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. My head is spinning with this information.
Fergus coughs bringing back my attention to the present and out of my mind. “Niamh, this is very serious. We cannot let other packs know about you, or they will want to try and take you. To force you to give the mark to wolves within their pack and show off power,” he tells me. I shake my head.
