Conall was the last one to call him a fool. He huffed. “Fine. I’ll tell you the whole friggin’ story. When the Norse gods agreed I could pay Jarle in exchange for Aine’s hand in marriage, I dinna have enough for the settlement. I had to borrow from Aine’s father. So, technically, Jarle is right. I dinna have the gold, so I should not have gotten Aine. But at the time I dinna think anything of it. All I knew back then was that I wanted Aine free of Jarle. It’s what she wanted as well.”
Conall cursed under his breath. “And now Jarle has had a lot of time to think about things. Being dead can do that to a soul. I know since I am not much better than dead. And with the powers Jarle has, which I’ve been told he’s retained in the afterlife, he can easily go back in time. Who’s to say he hasn’t? Maybe he’s trying to make sure Aine’s father does not…did not…give you the gold.”
“Or kick up a fuss if the man does.” He should have settled that fiasco ages ago. “Jarle is a bastard. He’ll insist I canna buy Aine if it’s not with my own gold.” That damn pact he’d made with the gods was meant to save Aine, not harm her. He loved her and would die for her. “I will not have my wife put in danger.”
“I’m sure between the two of us, we will come up with a solution.”
He didn’t need anyone else’s help as there was only one answer. “I’m going back in time to settle the matter.”
“Are ye daft, man? Even I am not stupid enough to do such a thing. It’s too dangerous.”
“I dinna have a choice.” Aine was way more important to him than anything else.
Conall’s body faded from his waist to his knees. His kilt slipped. “Shite!”
“You really should just make up with the wumman who hexed you.”
“And give Fiona the satisfaction of knowing I’ve caved? I think not.”
“No, never do that. God forbid you should gain back your full substance so ye can stop losing your kilt and live the life you were meant to live. And with the wumman you were meant to live it with. But you’d rather float around The Fool’s Fort pining for what you no longer have.”
“I am content in my castle. Even if the new owners have changed the name to The Fool’s Fort. Which, for the record, I am no fool. But that is beside the point. I didna come here to discuss my problems.”
“Well, I certainly dinna want you here to discuss mine.” Why the hell did everything always have to go awry?
The castle floor shook.
A small pebble hit Bane on the top of his head. “Wolfsie!”
“Still having castle problems?”
His brother didn’t know the half of it. “It’s as stubborn as was Da, and Granddad before him.”
“Well, Granddad did build Wolfsden.”
That was true. His family’s spirit was so damn entwined with the castle, it was no different than any other breathing, living member of the pack. In fact, the clan’s energies ran through all the family residences, not just Wolfsden, though this one was the most troublesome. “I have to go back and find a better way to settle up with Jarle or my wife will forever be tied to that bastard.”
“Returning to the old days is not safe. Time travel never is.”
He needn’t be reminded. “I canna risk Jarle erasing everything Aine and I had. Going back is the only choice.”
Conall let out a deep breath. “I don’t like that plan. It will require you to make the sacrifice.”
Giving up being alpha to the pack was worth it to try and help his wife and sons. “Callen will make a fine leader.”
“I’m not talking about relinquishing your role as alpha. I mean the other sacrifice. The only way for you to go back is through the portal at Castle Dundaire. And since that is a heap of ruin today, and the cornerstone is not fully intact, it can’t be raised permanently. You will have to go back just by using your shear willpower to imagine it. And then once there, you will be trapped in time and to not significantly change what you are trying to protect…you will have to…you will not be able to return.”
His brother couldn’t even bring himself to say the words. “Me dying will be a fair exchange for my family’s safety.”
“But the boys will end up not knowing you.”
Their memories will be altered, and that did pain him, but what choice did he have? “Maybe they will have their mother in my stead. God knows they suffered without her. I could never do what Aine would have done for them if she hadn’t had to leave us.”
A frown touched Conall’s lips. “There must be another way.”
The sound of running footsteps echoed from the hall.
“Dad?”
“That’s Callen,” Bane said.
Conall turned toward the kitchen’s arched entrance. “He sounds upset.”
Callen entered the room, his body visible only from the chest up. “Something’s happening to me and to my brothers and I don’t think it’s good.”
Bane let out a deep breath. Not only was Aine in possible danger of ending up with Jarle, but now their sons were fading from existence.
He only had once choice in this matter.
And it wasn’t going to be easy.
Not on him.
Not on his sons.
Not on his beloved Aine.
But it had to be done or the world they all had cherished for the last thousand years would come undone, to never have existed.
And losing his sons and Aine was not something he was willing to do.
Going back in time to Medieval Scotland was a must.
Even at the sacrifice of his own life.
~~o0o~~
The Otherworld, Land of the Celtic Gods
Aine studied the red glass urn containing the love she and Bane had shared for more than a millennium. Varying shades of crimson blended across the curved surface, veining from dark red to an almost pink. She set the container on a spinning wheel under a beam of moonlight. “Did the lid stay off long?” She spun around to face Abeille.
The witch stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a cane dangling from her right wrist. “No. I was very careful to follow your specific instructions and just lift the lid a smidgeon, then reseal it. It should have been enough to get Bane thinking of you.”
“Did the alarm go off when you removed it from the electronic case?”
A huff fell from Abeille’s mouth. “I’m not stupid, if that’s what you’re thinking. I may be more human than you, but I totally get today’s technology. I swapped it out with a cheap imitation jar I found at an antique shop in Dundaire. I filled it with mist, too, so the weight was equal. And I managed the deactivation and reactivation of the electronic case, thanks to a spell I cast, without alerting Bane. Your dense guy doesn’t have a clue.”
Bane was not dense. She turned away and focused on the urn. “Love is truly a magnificent thing.”
“Whatever.” Abeille materialized next to her. “Can I go now? It’s not easy for me to remain here, the aura of this place is closing in on me and it’s not exactly feeling wonderful.” The old hag slammed her cane against the mist-covered floor, a thud echoing through the bright, white room.
Aine sighed. The immortal witch never was an amicable soul. But still, she was grateful for Abeille’s help in the matter concerning her loveable, though sometimes stubborn, husband. Bane might be alpha to the MacHendrie pack, but he was more cuddly bear than snarling wolf when it came to affairs of the heart. “I owe you for doing this and you haven’t yet named your price. Not that I will give you anything, but you are entitled to some form of payment.” She stared at the woman.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind being on good terms with the MacHendrie pack and your brother, Mortimer. He and his wife are quite the society couple among supernatural New Orleans, and I can use a good word among their kind. My business can use it, especially the bakery.” She bit her bottom lip, her long red hair falling over her shoulders. “And I wouldn’t mind that husband of yours settling up his account. Wolfsden consumes macarons like you wouldn’t believe.”
>
Old Wolfsie always did have a good appetite. “I’m surprised you cater to the castle.”
Shock coveted Abeille’s usually annoyed looking face. “I’ve never not liked the place. What I have against the pack has nothing to do with Wolfsden itself, but I can’t keep supplying free macarons. This year’s total is already up to two thousand and it’s not even the end of February. I can’t afford the baking supplies for those orders. Nothing against Wolfsden.”
Settling a bill would be easy. “I’ll give you everything you ask, but you must agree to cut all ties to Jarle and his former coven leader, Rorik, despite them both now being dead. And where my half-brother Mortimer and his wife are concerned, you must also forget about the turf war you had with Leila. My sister-in-law is a good soul. You weren’t exactly nice to her, those years she was a sin-eater.”
“I can get over what went down between Leila and me. Leaving behind Jarle is also not a problem. But I now control Rorik’s soul in the afterlife and I will not give that up after all that man put me through.”
She mulled the situation. Leaving an immortal witch with a good deal of power over such a vile soul, could be dangerous down the line. But a degree of trust was also necessary in this particular situation. “You must promise to never use Rorik against the pack or any soul associated with Dundaire, and that includes my half-brother, Leila and all of Leila’s family, and anyone else in my family or Mortimer’s. If I give you what you request, then you must be an eternal ally of mine. Is that clear?”
Abeille rolled her eyes, but nodded.
“Then consider everything you asked for, done. Once things are secure for Bane, I will fulfill your requests.”
“Can I ask you something?” Sincerity touched Abeille’s voice.
“Of course.”
“Why did you call on me for this task and not do it yourself? You have more powers than me, that’s for sure.”
She had to be careful not to divulge too much information or it might risk the deed she was about to do. “The gods would not have allowed me the privilege.”
Abeille hunched. “Please tell me I am not going to be in for some sort of punishment for lifting that damn jar.”
“You are absolved of all wrong doing. The err is all on me.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Can I leave now?”
Aine waved away Abeille.
The witch vanished, the buzz of a bee fading away.
Too bad she’d been forced to remain in the shadows all these years, or she wouldn’t have even need the witch’s help. But being a lesser goddess limited her powers. And ticking off the higher gods was only to be done once. Which she was about to do now.
She glanced at the urn again. Reaching out, she ran her hand over the turning jar, the cool, smooth glass caressing her skin with a cold kiss.
One flick of the lid, and she’d have her Bane back. The veil of shadows that had separated them these last thousand years, gone. The love they shared, restored.
Of course that nasty thing called Consequence could rear its ugly head. And just like Virtue, it wasn’t one of her favorite things in the world. Both were very hard to contend with. Plus, there was the matter of that secret the gods had kept for her. If Jarle ever learned Bane hadn’t had the gold to pay him…
Of course she could change all that. Go back in time and make sure Bane had all he needed to rescue her from that horrid Viking witch.
After all, weren’t all good things worth fighting for?
Bane definitely was.
And what good did it ever do her keeping things in line all these centuries? Being a goody-two-shoes, always playing by the rules, only earned her loneliness.
And loss.
What she’d give to have been a part of her sons’ lives, to have heard their voices, to have shared their birthday celebrations with them.
She glided her forefinger upward until it edged the rim of the urn’s lid and crossed into the beam of moonlight. The soft glow expanded to her wrist and bounced off the silver cuff bracelet Bane had given her as a wedding gift.
A thread of energy snaked up her arm.
Her heart beat hiked up a notch.
Aine closed her eyes, recalled Bane, and the nights they’d spent together in his marvelous velvet-draped bed at Wolfsden Keep.
She brought her hand to her neck. The recollection of Bane’s lips against her flesh, kissing her, his tongue trailing up to her ear.
With a single flick, she popped the urn’s top.
Red smoke coiled out of the container and floated through the air, it’s color changing to purple, then pink, then white.
Bane’s scent of sandalwood accompanied by a lesser amount of lavender, her own scent, dispersed through the chamber.
The floor gave way.
The walls collapsed outward.
The veils of shadow parted.
Aine fell, her soul and body spiraling through a sea of scents and smoke.
Hopefully her journey to earth wouldn’t take all that long.
Chapter Two
Wolfsden Keep
Bane remained calm.
There was only one way to help his son retain substance until this fangled mess got straightened out. “I know you don’t have much memory of your mother, but concentrate on what you can recall of her. By locking into her image, her half-goddess energies will keep you whole until matters are remedied.”
Callen’s hand phased in and out. “What the hell is happening?” His face went pale. Even his jet-black hair flashed ghostlike before gaining back its body.
Bloody nuisance. He hated seeing his son suffer. That Norse wretch Jarle was the worst son-of-a-bitch he’d ever met, and considering the thousand plus years he’d been living on this beautiful, God-blessed planet, that said volumes.
He pulled out a chair. “You had better have a seat because what I am about to tell you is not going to be easy. But you’ll need to trust me on it.”
Callen’s gaze darted to Conall who suddenly had lost his voice and merely looked away. So much for his brother’s backing.
“For the love of heaven, son. Your uncle can’t even keep his own body from fading. I don’t think he’s the one you need to seek reassurance from.”
Callen took the chair, the arm of his denim shirt reaching out with no visible hand to grasp the seat. “Why do I get the feeling this is not going to bode well for me?”
“Listen to your father, boy.” Conall apparently had found his tongue again. “Remember, I was his beta before your sorry ass came along. It’s vital you do whatever the man says. The pack depends on it.”
Bane pulled out a second chair and sat across from Callen. “You know the cornerstone area of Castle Dundaire, yes?”
“Of course. It’s the one place you’ve always insisted we don’t dig for artifacts. Even Mortimer gave me a lecture on the matter. Why?”
Bane leaned in, rested his hands against his jeans-clad thighs. “As my beta, you must keep what I am about to tell you secret. Conall knows and now you. But that is where this will remain. Clear?”
Callen nodded, then raised his only visible hand to his forehead and brushed a lock of his hair away from his eyes.
“That cornerstone is a time portal, a gateway back to the days before Rorik and Jarle sacked Dundaire.”
“Are you saying MacHendrie wolves can time travel?”
“No. Just me. Only an alpha can access the portal. And Mortimer, of course, as the castle is his. He’s bound to it by blood.”
Callen’s body returned to a state of full substance. He shifted in the chair, stretched his long legs out in front of him. “So, you could have gone back all those years I suffered? All those years that Jarle’s curse festered in my leg?”
Damn, he knew the boy was not going to take this well. His son may be a man now, and a darn good beta, but when it came to his leg and the pain he’d endured for a thousand years, he had every right to respond like a child and think his own parent hadn’t helped when he believed he co
uld. But going back in time wouldn’t have changed the situation for Callen.
Bane’s heart ached.
Conall stepped up behind him, the scent of lime filling the air. “If your father could have done so, he would have.”
At least all the rules and lessons he’d taught his brother as beta, hadn’t been lost. He looked Callen in the eye. “It’s not that simple, son. If I had gone back to stop Jarle from wounding and cursing your leg, then time might have changed. And I don’t know what ramifications could have come from that. But believe me, I did think about risking it many times over the years. But I also knew I might make your pain worse if I went back and tried to prevent it from happening, as you could have suffered an even worse fate, and so I learned to remove my emotions from the equation.”
“And yet, you’re telling me all this because you’re thinking of going back now.” Callen paused, an angry glare glazed his brown eyes. “Forgive me, but I don’t see the difference, except that in waiting until whatever the hell is going on today happened, I suffered a lifetime.”
He sucked in a deep breath, counted to five, then resumed his focus. Getting riled up wasn’t going to help his son. “There’s a huge difference in me going back now. If I don’t, you’ll cease to exist because the actions of others have caused certain circumstances to take place that are starting to erase the event of your birth and your brothers’ births.”
“Your father is right,” Conall said. “Rather than dwelling on what might have changed if he’d acted differently, why not be thankful your curse has lifted and you no longer suffer.”
Callen didn’t comment and neither did he. Watching his son digest all this information was not easy, but it needed to come out.
Callen stood. “How is the portal accessed?” A hint of trouble sparked in his brown, gold-flecked eyes.
Dread filled Bane’s soul. “Don’t be thinking about going back. For starters, you’d have to be alpha, which means I’d have to be dead and I have no intention of getting myself killed just yet or succumbing to a preternatural disease. For now, my immortality is in good shape. But even if it weren’t, you can’t go back like I can because you are of mixed breeds.”
Highland Wolf Shifters of Dundaire 4 Page 2
