Healing of the Wolf

by Cherise Sinclair

  Heather stared. “That sounds like a horrible mess. You and Darcy are all right?”

  “Donal has magic hands.” Emma smiled at Margery. “And Margery was there to defend us when Norman started shouting.”

  “Gods, Vicki would call that a sheepfuck…no, it’s a goatfuck, although I don’t get why one animal is better than the other.” Heather gave Emma a sympathetic look, then smiled at Margery. “I’m glad you were there, too.”

  “Hey, there’s my favorite redhead.” A male sauntered up and leaned over the back of Heather’s chair. “Can I entice you to spend some time with me?”

  He wasn’t a bad-looking male, and his confidence was appealing. Margery gave a mental nod of approval if Heather wanted him.

  She did. Offering her hand, Heather let him pull her to her feet and toward the stairway.

  Margery eyed her friend. As far as she could tell, Heather wasn’t overwhelmed with lust, just pleasantly interested.

  “I’m so happy I found Ben and Ryder,” Emma muttered, then turned red. “Sorry. I have ugly memories from my first Gathering.”

  Ugly enough that the bard’s eyes were haunted. Margery moved to sit beside Emma and squeezed her hand. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m really glad you found lifemates—and I’m sorry you had a rough Gathering.”

  “It’s years in the past, but now and then, something brings it back…like all the shouting last night, actually.” With a sigh, Emma leaned against her. “I see why the cubs didn’t want to leave your lap. You simply exude peace.”

  Margery laughed. “It’s a talent. My grandmama had it, too.”

  “Useful for a banfasa.” After a couple of minutes, Emma straightened. “I’m all right. You probably want to check out the males.”

  “I’m good.” Margery looked around, listened, breathed in the scents. “No one is setting off my want-to-have-him bell.”

  Laughing, Emma got up and added another log to the fire. As fresh flames ignited, a salamander spiraled around the highest one, adding a shimmering glow to the reds and oranges of the flames.

  “So, what’s it like living with a bear and a…what animal is Ryder?”

  “He’s a cat.” Emma considered. “I think it’s easier than living with a wolf and panther combination, like Tynan and Donal. Ben’s huge, but bears are mellow. Ryder has a hard time riling him up—and being a cat, he really does try.”

  Margery busted out laughing. “Cats. All snark and claws.”

  Benighted, sprite-brained, testosterone-poisoned males. After dealing with the second brawl of the night, Donal walked up the cave steps ready to claw someone just to ease his temper. And it’d help him warm up.

  He was shaking with the cold.

  Only he didn’t start fights for stupid reasons, not since his twenties. Well…maybe thirties.

  Shredding someone might help his mood tonight. So far, it’d been a completely crappy night.

  Because his interest in sex was completely gone for some reason. By the Gods, with the two matings earlier, he’d been so bored his cock had barely risen to the task. And a task was what the sex had felt like. Neither Nia nor Francesca were to blame. Both were lovely, pleasant females, thrilled at being taken upstairs by the healer.

  Although being classified as the healer rather than Donal grew more tiresome every year, it’d never wiped out his desire to mate. Nothing did.

  Until tonight.

  At the top of the stairs, he yanked open the door and stumbled inside. Through the closet, out of the portal room into the hall, then into the main room of the tavern.

  At least, the number of aroused shifters meant the place wasn’t cold. Not that he could tell. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get warm again.

  “Whoa, Donal, you look half-frozen.” Rather than the Cosantir, Ben was tending bar along with Thorson. “Want a hot coffee?”

  “Bless you, yes.” Donal slid onto a bar stool, set his hands on the bar, and watched them shake.

  The grizzly cahir set the coffee in front of him. “Emma’s over by the fire. Get on over there and warm yourself up.”

  “That’s the best plan I’ve heard all night.” Forget mating. He wanted a different kind of heat right now.

  He tried the coffee and was shaking hard enough he burned his lips. Grumbling under his breath, he crossed the room, trying to avoid collisions with heedless younger males who saw only females. Clumsy pups.

  Around the fireplace, the temperature increased and Donal’s legs went weak. With an oath, he hastily sat down at the end of the couch. Don’t spill the coffee.

  “Donal!”

  “Healer!”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Someone touched him.

  “He’s freezing. Build up the fire some more, Emma.” Now there was a lovely voice.

  Someone sat and wrapped her arms around him. As the soft body pressed closer, warmth seeped into him. The scent of flowers drifted to his nose.

  “Margery?”

  “Well, your brains haven’t frozen, at least.” The humor in her voice lightened his mood. “Here, drink your coffee.” She set her hand under his shaking one and helped him raise the cup to his lips.

  The hot liquid burned all the way down but started to warm him from inside. Ben must have laced it with bourbon from Calum’s private stash under the bar. Good grizzly.

  Another set of shivers hit, and Margery moved the cup away. “How did you get so chilled?”

  “Fight outside—bear versus panther. Bloody mess.”

  “I bet you forgot your coat and got so involved in healing you didn’t notice the cold.”

  “You’d be right. At least it wasn’t raining.”

  Emma tsked at him. “You need a keeper.”

  “This from the female who gets in car accidents?” But then the next set of shivers hit, and his laugh strangled. “Aye. I’ll take a keeper.”

  As the spasms eased off, Margery helped him drink more coffee.

  The heat from the fireplace and the warmth of her body on the other side finally penetrated. With a sigh, he leaned back. “Thank you.”

  She giggled. “Caring for the healer wasn’t in the list of things we discussed for a banfasa, but I can take that on, too.”

  Caring for him. He looked down at her, aware of the curves of her body. Imagining her hands on him. Those soft lips under his.

  A different kind of heat started to burn away the chills.

  “There, now, you’re feeling better, aren’t you?” She was stroking his shoulder and arm.

  Soothing was no longer what he had in mind. He took the cup from her, pleased his hand was steady again, took a sip, and set it on the coffee table. “I’m definitely feeling better.”

  “Margery, it’s Margery, right?” A male walked over, face flushed with lust. One of the wolves. Hopeful and focused on Margery. “Want to come and talk with me or…”

  Or go upstairs? Donal’s lips curled up in a snarl, and a sound escaped that he’d never heard himself make. The sound of a panther ready to defend its territory.

  “Uh, got it, sorry.” The male jumped back and hurried toward the other side of the room.

  Donal didn’t feel repentant in the least.

  His gaze met Emma’s. She winked at him and rose. “Since you’re doing better, I’ll go help Ben hand out drinks. See you later, Margery.”

  “Um, right.” Margery watched her friend stroll away. “Was she—”

  Donal interrupted by raising her hand to his lips. He kissed her fingertips, then more intimately, her palm. Her personal scent was fresh, not sultry, more like a flower garden at dawn. He breathed it in with another slow kiss before looking down at her.

  Her eyes were wide and surprised. Lovely hazel eyes, the firelight bringing out the green. Apparently realizing how she was pressed against him, she started to edge away.

  “Please stay, Meggie. I’m still half-frozen,” he lied.

  She immediately leaned against him. “Of course. I—”

&
nbsp; His pleasure must have given him away. Her eyes narrowed. “Sneaky cat.”

  She moved away.

  “Worth a try. Lust is an excellent medicine for hypothermia, it appears.”

  Giggles came from the little banfasa, so he took his chance, slinging an arm around her and pulling her back against him. “Stay where you’re put, female.”

  Those wide eyes again. Could she not feel the attraction between them? He needed to be more obvious. Bending, he brushed a swift kiss over her mouth.

  Yes, her lips were as soft as they’d looked. And her cheeks turned a delicate pink.

  Normally, a male would discreetly check a female’s interest by sniffing her wrist, but since she was right there in the curve of his arm, he nuzzled her cheek, her ear, her neck, breathing in. The scent of her desire had his shaft growing until it strained against his jeans.

  * * *

  How strange. Margery hadn’t been at all interested in mating again…not until Donal sat down beside her. Then every cell in her body had jumped up and started bouncing around like a shifter at her first trawsfur.

  He smelled like springtime in the foothills, so enticing she wanted to rub her face on his skin and nibble on his sharp jaw.

  After finishing off his coffee, he set the cup on the table and leaned back, pulling her against him again. His arm was an iron band around her shoulders. In fact, all of him was lean muscle.

  What would he feel like on top of her?

  “Are the panther and bear going to be all right?” she asked, feeling as if her brain had gone into hibernation. Normally, she didn’t have trouble talking with people, but Donal and Tynan often left her stumbling over her tongue.

  “They’ll be fine.” A crease appeared in Donal’s cheek. “Although sometimes I think I shouldn’t completely heal idiot fighters. I could leave some scars as a stupidity penalty.”

  She giggled. “Can you get the Cosantir to agree?”

  “Calum? In a heartbeat. He…”

  As Donal’s fingertips made circles on her bare arm, she lost track of what he was saying. “Uhhh, say that again?”

  His lips curved up, turning his severe features more compelling than she could handle. “He thinks the best way to teach young males to control themselves is a hard paw swipe over vulnerable skin.”

  Ouch. “I’m glad I’m female,” she muttered.

  Donal’s resonant laughter was so very masculine that quivers started deep inside her.

  “I’m glad, too, as it happens.” He lifted her, set her right onto his lap with her legs dangling to the left of his, then drew her arm around his shoulders.

  “Are…are you still cold?”

  He chuckled, curving his arms around her, molding her to his hard torso. Her hip rubbed against a hard erection. “I can pretend I’m still cold, but we both know that’s no longer true.”

  In fact, his body positively radiated heat. Or maybe that was her.

  He stroked his hand up and down her back, sensitizing every inch.

  She swallowed.

  “So, Margery, would you care to go upstairs with me?” His gray eyes were the shade of dawn through a morning fog, holding her gaze until the room disappeared. Until she saw only sunlight.

  She could think of nothing better—because this was Donal. Not just a stunning male, but someone as dedicated as she was to healing, to helping. Brilliant and grumpy and funny and heart-wrenchingly kind.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.” Her voice emerged husky, almost too soft, but he heard.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Leaning forward, he lifted her in his arms and rose to his feet. Holding her, he rubbed his cheek against her hair, marking her and claiming her with his scent as a panther would.

  And then his lips took hers again in a long, drugging kiss, teasing her with his tongue, demanding a response as she sank into a whirlpool of passion.

  * * *

  At the top of the stairs, Donal considered the open rooms and picked his favorite—the purple room. Inside, he toed off his shoes and laid Margery down in the center of the cushioned floor.

  The tiny fireplace held a nice blaze, sending heat through the room.

  Margery propped herself up on her elbows. “Purple? Seriously?”

  “My sweet, purple is the color of royalty. Only cats use this room.”

  Her expression indicated she wasn’t sure if he was serious or not.

  He was totally lying and grinned as he stripped off his shirt and jeans, then dropped down beside her. “Actually, I like the fabric.” Taking her hand, he ran her palm over the silk pillows and floor cushions.

  She stroked the material. “So smooth. I see why you like it.”

  “Exactly.” He lay on his side, playing with her hair, confusing himself. Normally, he’d be reacting to the female’s need.

  With Margery, despite the growing urge in his dick, he wanted to take his time. Lots and lots of time.

  Running his hand over her cheek, down her torso, he flattened his palm over her pelvis. Healthy female, healthy lust. He could swear her hormones were calling to his.

  “Donal,” she whispered. But rather than dragging her down to him, she framed his face with her hands. Looking him right in the eyes, much like she had when she told him he was rude to a patient, when she tsked at the mess he left in the kitchen, or when she scolded him for teasing Tynan.

  Because she saw not a healer, but him.

  It had taken him far too long, but he saw her in return.

  And liked everything he saw.

  Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her and almost laughed at her enthusiastic response. At the way she wiggled closer.

  He enjoyed her mouth—oh Gods, yes—then her neck, inhaling the subtle scent there. He pressed his lips to the pounding carotid artery and felt the way her heart rate increased.

  She reached down to unbutton her jeans, and he caught her hands. “My job, sweetling.”

  “You’re too slow at doing your job.” Her face was flushed and her pout absolutely endearing.

  “I’m working my way there. But we can start here.” He helped her sit and pulled her shirt off.

  No bra. Beautiful full breasts with large pink-brown nipples already hard and pointed. His cock went from hard to painful with one look. Mother’s blessing, but she was going to test his control.

  He’d die happy, now, wouldn’t he?

  To prove that, he tipped her back and took possession of her breasts with both hands, before burying his face between his presents. Soft, so fucking soft, and fragrant. He licked between each soft globe, over and around. As she started to moan, he reached her nipples. With healer hands, he could feel her response to his lips and teeth on the sensitive areolas, and the zinging of nerves through her body gave him more of a rush than alcohol.

  Pleasing her satisfied everything inside of him—and in return, she pulled him into opening himself more than any other female ever had. Why? What was it about her?

  Eventually, when his dick and her squirming impelled him to move, he unbuttoned her jeans, punctuating each new exposed inch with kisses. Just as well he’d lost his hair tie since it would’ve been gone by now. She had a good grip on his hair.

  How high could he drive her before the wolflet bit him?

  He wouldn’t mind being left with a few fang marks from this night, to remind him of someone very, very special.

  * * *

  At last, at damned long last, Donal pulled Margery’s jeans off. She felt as if her skin was on fire, stoked by the too-knowledgeable healer’s hands. Nothing she did had made him move faster; instead, he’d lingered and teased each sensitive inch until she was nigh to combusting.

  But her jeans were off. Nothing was stopping him from taking her and—

  He put her legs over his shoulders, and his mouth…his mouth...right there on her. His hands were under her ass, holding her up to his face as his tongue swirled over her, circling and teasing and sliding inside.

  “Mmm, you taste like the finest of dessert
s.”

  “Donal.” Oh Goddess, was that her voice? So whiny and desperate.

  “Mmmhmm, I have to see if you’re ready, sweetling.” He lifted slightly, so he could use his fingers on her, between her wet folds, before ever so slowly penetrating her with one, then two fingers.

  “Oh, oh, oh.” The rush of sensation almost sent her over, and her hips lifted uncontrollably.

  He chuckled and pinned her down with his other hand as he bent to lick over her. His fingers kept moving in and out. Everything inside her tightened, and every teasing lick added to the conflagration of desire until… She burst into flames as pleasure swept through her in blast after blast of overwhelming sensations.

  Panting, moaning, she stared up at him, at the slight smile on his perfect lips, on the satisfaction in his eyes. “This isn’t the way it works. You’re supposed to use your…” How could she blush hotter when she knew her face was already red from a climax?

  He ran a finger down her cheek, and his low smoky chuckle was smoother than the cushions beneath her. “You don’t think you should come until my cock and seed are inside you?”

  Well, Tynan had shown her that it could happen, but still…

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He was kneeling between her legs, his black hair loose over his bare shoulders. A male shouldn’t be allowed to be so gorgeous. “You’ll have my seed before we leave this room.”

  She felt like she was going to melt right into the floor beneath her.

  Until he ran his finger over her, around her clit, and things inside her started to waken again. “Donal…”

  “It’s near the end of the night, so I can take my time.” His grin was dark and wicked. “Let’s see how many times you can come before my control gives out.”

  “Wait, no—”

  When his skilled fingers teased over her, her protest turned into a moan.

  And more and more moans.

  Sometime later, after she’d turned into a limp heap on the cushions, he lay on top of her, all lean, hard muscle. When he kissed her, she could taste her own essence before he plundered her mouth. His lips moved over her cheek teasingly, and she felt his smile.