Healing of the Wolf

by Cherise Sinclair

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - waning crescent moon

  * * *

  Tynan sniffed the air, breathing in the aroma of steak on the grill. Wildwood Lodge’s Sunday party had chosen a menu that shifters would love. Meat and lots of it.

  Although he’d never say no to one of Bree’s desserts.

  Since his alpha was stuck manning the grill, Tynan took him a beer. “Anything you need me to do?”

  “Thanks—and nope.” Shay smiled. “Enjoy your day off.”

  “Will do.” Who wouldn’t enjoy a sunny afternoon and a party of shifters having fun?

  He dodged two teenaged cubs on their way to the soccer game, sidestepped a bevy of females comparing notes about a well-endowed male, and paused at the chess table where Thorson was locked in battle with the blademage Gawain.

  Gawain was winning, much to Thorson’s annoyance.

  Every other Sunday during summer, the lodge held a party—one that drew the humans and Daonain in the community together. It was difficult to classify someone as “other” after sharing a beer and laughing together at youngling antics.

  Considering the carousing on the mini-playground Zeb had built, there was more than sufficient youngling activity to enjoy.

  Tynan spotted Meggie applying a bandage to little Luke’s knee and giving him a hug…which he enthusiastically returned. Tynan smiled. She said her contentment came from being surrounded by people she could help. Being accepted.

  He understood her right down to the core. Those were his needs as well.

  Being loved, now that would be a bonus for him, but he was hoping…

  For nearly a week, she’d spent evenings and nights with him and Donal, leaving early in the morning to make breakfast for herself and Oliver.

  A glance ascertained that Oliver wasn’t at the lodge party.

  Tynan shook his head. He’d invited the male to join him for a drink or a forest run and had been turned down. Same with Donal. Was Meggie’s littermate merely antisocial—or was he resentful they were taking up his sister’s time?

  Either way, they weren’t going to back away from Meggie.

  As Meggie took Luke back to his father, Tynan watched, remembering the feeling of her soft body against his. How she’d so easily become an important part of their lives. Talking about her day’s adventures and getting him and Donal to share theirs. Teasing Donal about what she called his bedside manner. Even sex was different—special—maybe because this time they were with a female who really cared about them. Yes, they shared something.

  And eventually, the three of them should talk about the future. Because Donal had fallen as hard as Tynan had.

  Who knew falling could be so pleasant?

  Smiling, Tynan wandered across the patio.

  In a grassy stretch by the creek, teens were playing a vigorous game of pounce and tackle. Their agemates, Hector and Lysander, watched from the sidelines.

  “Didn’t they let you join in?” Tynan asked.

  “They would, but Mama said no.” Lysander turned up sad brown eyes. “The healer said if he caught me doing anything strenuous or climbing again, he’d rebreak my leg for free.”

  “Ah.” The accidents from the newest teen craze—treeways—had sent Donal into more than one shouting fit, especially when the injured were non-feline shifters. “Why in the Hunter’s forests would dogs be climbing trees? Or bears be leaping from branch to branch? Frost-bitten sprites show more sense.”

  “That grumpy healer probably never climbed a tree in his life,” Hector—a werecat—said under his breath.

  Tynan covered his laugh with a cough. “Actually, Donal loves climbing. Over the years, I’ve busted quite a few bones trying to follow.”

  “You?” Hector stared, then flushed, belatedly remembering Tynan was Donal’s littermate.

  Grinning, Tynan caught Shay’s attention, motioned to the two lads, then at Shay’s grill and pantomimed flipping a burger.

  The alpha nodded.

  “Watching people play is boring, so how about something else? If you ask nicely, Shay’ll teach you how to grill burgers. You know…the cooks get special treats from Bree.”

  “Seriously?” Lysander brightened. Teen bears were always starving. “Thank you!”

  Hector watched his sibling head straight for the grill. “Thanks, Deputy. He’s been kinda unhappy—and we’ve always wanted to learn to grill.”

  As the pup followed Lysander, Tynan nodded in satisfaction. The lads were Gather-bred, their mother raising them on her own while working as a grocery clerk. Hector had recently apprenticed to Owen to learn to carve, but Lysander hadn’t found anything yet.

  Lacking a goal… It was a tough place to be. Although Donal had always known his path in life, Tynan hadn’t found his own trail until years later in Ireland.

  Raised voices drew his attention. A cluster of male wolves in their twenties, Herne help him. He veered that direction.

  “Chad was tossed out of the pack like a chewed-up bone. He deserved better.” Fyodor, one of Chad’s friends, scowled at the group around him.

  “I know you thought his shit didn’t stink.” Fyodor’s littermate, Emil, crossed his arms over his chest. “But, bro, Chad’s an asshole. No female was safe around him.”

  “Shay and Zeb warned him and Patrick over and over. Patrick got smart; Chad didn’t.” Warren curled up a lip in a snarl. “It’s wrong to bully the females. Good males protect them, not rough them up.”

  “It’s the females’ fault. Chad only gave them what they were asking for.” Fyodor stopped when he noticed Tynan was listening.

  “Interesting notion,” Tynan stood close enough to loom over the lad. “I guess if I backhand you into the creek, I could say you asked for it?”

  Fyodor went pale, then red.

  “Fair question.” Warren snickered. “At least Fyodor deserves getting pounded on—more than any of the females Chad pushed around. The puny asshole did it cuz hitting someone littler and weaker made him feel bigger.”

  “Like that wasn’t obvious,” someone else said from the back. “A male who picks on a female is completely gutless. Lower than a coyote.”

  Fyodor looked like a badger had bitten his nose. Or like he’d had a revelation. Seems he hadn’t realized the cause of Chad’s aberrant behavior.

  Fyodor might be salvageable, though. Maybe with some long runs and forest talks, Tynan could get the pup back on the right trail.

  For now, Tynan pointed toward Breanne who was struggling with a huge platter. “Our alpha female looks exhausted. Since you’re stronger than she is, can you help get the food out of the kitchen?”

  “Sure,” Warren said.

  “Can do, Tynan.”

  Tynan caught Fyodor before he followed the others. “I’m going for a run tomorrow evening and could use company. Think about what you were talking about here, and we’ll discuss it while we’re out.”

  The cub’s mouth dropped open.

  Tynan grinned. “We’ll work on your hunting skills, too.”

  Fyodor looked like the sun had risen. “By the Gods, yeah. Thanks, Beta!”

  Turning, Tynan checked the area. Troublemakers were dispersed. Everyone else was engaged and having fun.

  Time for a beer.

  At the drinks table, Zeb joined him. “Beta,” he said in his harsh voice.

  Tynan chuckled and returned the greeting, “Beta.”

  Zeb’s gaze was on Fyodor who was helping his littermate carry a tub of ice. “Knew you’d be good for the cubs.”

  Tynan frowned at his fellow beta. “You do realize that the young males admire the hell out of you.”

  “Aye.” Zeb’s rare smile flashed in his dark face. “And you. But you they’ll talk to.”

  “Ah.” Tynan grinned. “Maybe it would help if you didn’t think a conversation consisted of growling?”

  The response of a growl made him laugh.

  Near the end of the evening, Margery held
a sleepy boy cub in her lap as she sat at a table with Bree.

  “I’d nearly forgotten how much work these parties are,” Bree murmured. “And how much fun.”

  “They really are. Both.”

  “The eye-candy doesn’t hurt either.” Bree motioned toward Donal and Tynan.

  Margery could only grin sheepishly. All her female friends were teasing her about the way she watched Donal and Tynan.

  She hadn’t thought she was that obvious.

  Wrong.

  But, dear Goddess, both males were simply captivating. Tynan, stable and strong as a mountain, watching over the wolf pack…and everyone else, too. He probably didn’t know how not to be a protector.

  Donal had arrived late, as brilliant as a lightning flash in a dark sky. People pulled him into conversations, asking for his opinions. Of course they did. The healer was incredibly smart, gave excellent advice—and Mr. Grumpy Cat was just plain fun to listen to.

  Bree frowned at the side gate. “People are starting to leave. I’d better go make like a hostess.”

  “I’d come and help, but…cub.” Margery gestured at the three-year-old on her lap.

  “Stay put. Pup-tending is valued in the pack.” Laughing, Bree headed off to tell people goodbye.

  “There’s a smart lad. Found somewhere soft to sleep after a long day of playing.” Tynan put a glass of juice on the table, sat next to her with a beer in his hand, and grinned.

  “You smart lads are all alike.” Last night, he’d stretched out on the couch with his head in her lap. She sipped the juice and smiled. Maybe someday she’d learn to like beer or wine. That day hadn’t yet arrived. “Thank you, it’s wonderful.”

  “So are you.” Tynan leaned over to kiss her, slowly, careful not to disturb the cub. Turning his chair, he settled down to watch the sun’s last glow behind the mountains.

  “Sun worshipper,” she teased him. How many times had she seen him sprawled out in a sunny spot on his porch?

  “Side effect of Seattle. There were weeks all I could see were tall buildings and cloudy skies.”

  “Disgusting human city.” Donal took the chair on Margery’s other side. “I wouldn’t last two days there.”

  “That’s optimistic,” Tynan muttered, “considering your complaints before the rescue last fall. If we hadn’t had you trapped in a helicopter, you’d have headed straight back to the mountains.”

  Donal’s pseudo-indignant hiss made Margery laugh because the healer never really took insults to heart.

  He propped his feet up on a chair. “Ty’s a sun worshipper, aye, but it’s someone else who sneaks out of bed to sit in the moonlight every night.”

  Tynan grinned. “You saw her, too? The first time, I figured she was heading home, but, instead, she plopped her curvy ass on the floor in front of the window.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Face warm, Margery looked down to resettle the sleeping cub in her lap. The youngling didn’t even stir.

  “You’re a wolf, sweetheart. Stealth isn’t in your skill set.” Donal gave her knee a pat to go with the insult.

  “I can be sneaky.”

  “Now there’s a pout,” Tynan murmured and kissed it off her lips. “Is it just our house or do you get out of bed every night?”

  “You’re as snoopy as Donal. Tell you what. If I share my past”—reaching around the cub, she pointed at Tynan—“then you have to share about living in the city. Balance.” Balance was another of the Daonain customs she’d re-learned during her time in the Elder Village.

  She really did like the tradition.

  “What about Donal?” Tynan adjusted her aim so she pointed at his brother instead. “No balance for him?”

  She snorted. “Like he doesn’t share everything already?”

  Donal gave her an insulted look—which she knew was feigned. He had more self-confidence than anyone she’d ever met.

  “Balance, hmm?” Tynan eyed her. “Aye. I’m in.”

  “Okay, then.” But…was it right to push Tynan to talk about something that must have been horrendous? How could anyone live there—for a decade—after knowing the freedom of the forests?

  “Meggie?”

  A quick look showed Tynan didn’t look upset or stressed…and he expected her to talk first, it seemed.

  “Okay, fine.” She blew out a breath, disturbing the cubling who snuffled a little grouchy sound. “My grandmama would sit with the Mother every night, out on the back porch where the moonlight could find her. After I was, oh, maybe around eight or so, I joined her.”

  Donal’s eyebrows rose. “She sat with the Goddess?”

  “It’s a tradition handed down by the females in our line. Mama joined us sometimes.” Margery shook her head. “As a Scythe prisoner, I was so angry and scared, but when I sat with the Mother, in her moonlight, even the ugliest emotions drained away. Since my cell window was tiny, I would get out of bed to catch when she shone through the window.”

  “And now?” Tynan asked.

  “Now, when the moon lights the window, I feel her presence, like she’s calling me to sit with her. So I get up.”

  “And fill yourself with her glow,” Donal said softly. “No wonder children flock to you.”

  Margery looked down at the cub in her lap, kissed the silky hair, and jerked her chin at Tynan. “Your turn, Mentor. How did you manage to survive all those years surrounded by buildings and concrete and steel? With only humans? Donal said you didn’t visit him hardly at all.”

  Tynan ran his hand through his hair in the way he did when he was herding his thoughts. “The lack of visits was… Well, if I somehow revealed the existence of shifters, I couldn’t chance letting them track me here.”

  Margery flinched at the jab of pain. One Dogwood shifter had been careless, and her village had died.

  She took Tynan’s hand. “The Elders said a Daonain can’t live long without shifting. It was partly why the female captives were dying. How did you…?”

  “I trawsfurred often enough. On my days off, I visited the nearest forests or crossed the Sound to the Olympic Peninsula. I got a reputation for being a backpacker.” He smiled. “There were a couple of forested parks within Seattle that I’d run in after closing time.”

  “Was it enough?” she asked.

  “No. Not really.” He put his arm over her shoulder as if needing the closeness. “It’s why after I came here, I spent my first two months mostly in the forest. Donal wasn’t happy.”

  “I worried you might not come back one day.” Tone grim, Donal looked away.

  “I’m sorry, mo deartháir.” Tynan’s eyes filled with remorse. “I should have explained.”

  It wasn’t like Tynan to hurt someone. But knowing how hard some things were to talk about, she slipped her hand into his.

  Donal huffed. “Sometimes, deputy, it feels as if you’ve jailed-up your own words.”

  The silence stretched between the brothers…and Margery could do nothing but wait.

  “City law enforcement requires tight control over emotions.” Tynan shook his head. “It’s worse for a wolf with only humans around. Although the police are a type of a pack, I couldn’t let my guard down. It’s too easy to say something suspicious. I could never speak without thinking. And it was safer if I never shared anything personal.”

  After a long moment, Donal nodded at his brother. Accepting the explanation. The effort.

  Shifting the child on her lap, Margery leaned into Tynan’s side. Giving him the warmth of pack. “Maybe it’s time to unlearn those habits,” she told him firmly.

  Laughter lit his blue eyes. “Bossy little wolf. I will if you will.”

  Oh, now that’s just mean.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - dark of the moon

  * * *

  The following Saturday, Tynan walked through the open door into Donal’s clinic room. His littermate and Meggie were washing the blood off the big table in the center of the room
. “Looks like a war zone in here.”

  “Kevin Murphy.” Donal hissed his annoyance. “Idiots shouldn’t be allowed to use sharp edged tools.”

  “That’s what Mother used to say.” Tynan grinned and told Meggie, “She had a tongue sharper than a blade.”

  Meggie smiled before a crease appeared between her brows. “She didn’t use that sharp weapon on her pups, did she?”

  Busy cleaning, Donal said easily, “Of course she did.”

  Meggie looked appalled.

  Huh. Tynan had never considered how their mother’s parenting would appear to someone else. Her admirable dedication to healing had left little time or energy for her cubs. She’d also been short-tempered, critical, and sarcastic.

  He tried to imagine Meggie flaying a cub with her words.

  She wouldn’t.

  Their mother shouldn’t have either.

  Unsettled, Tynan changed the subject. “I take it that Murphy’s wounds were from a knife?”

  “That’s right.” With a groan, Meggie raised her arms and stretched, the posture pulling her shirt taut over her full breasts—and stirring Tynan’s blood. She leaned against the now-clean table. “The brothers were field-dressing a deer, and Kevin got cut.”

  “Nicked an artery, the dumbass,” Donal stated. “I doubt butchering would lead to a wound on the inner arm. I daresay the idiots were “sword” fighting and missed.”

  “Sounds likely.” The Murphys were good males Tynan would let guard his back any day. But they were less responsible than adolescent shifters. “Did he need help getting home?”

  “His brother took him.” Donal washed his hands. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Physically, at least. His ego, though, might take a while to recover,” Meggie glared at Donal. “Or, I should say, both of their egos. Your manner with the people you’re caring for isn’t at all polite.”

  This was like watching a pixie go after a bear. Tynan rubbed his mouth to hide his amusement

  Donal held up his hands, palms out. “I’m nice to the ones who deserve it. Getting slashed from being stupid? They don’t deserve me being polite.”