by Young, S.
Catha’s eyes darkened with intensity. “I wish it, Your Highness.”
With the queen’s nod, Catha was gone, presumably back to our world, to the astonishing gifts Aine had promised.
“Now,” Aine stood from her throne, “I fear I have unwelcome news for our guests.” A movement to my left drew my attention, and I noted a fae man sidling up to my brother. His face was … it was hazy, as though his features did not want to fall into place. And he seemed hunched. Eirik stiffened at the sight of him and the fae gave him a quick shake of his head to silence him. Whatever passed between them, my brother merely nodded and turned back to the queen.
As did I.
“It has come to my attention that humans have discovered the healing use of our blood.”
A gasp rippled around the room.
Eirik had brought the rumors with him and had told me a few days ago of this discovery. Apparently, fae blood could heal a human or supernatural from any wound or disease, even from the brink of death. There were murmurings that war bands of humans were gathering to steal fae back into the human world as their own constant source of immortality.
I had thought it mere ridiculous human posturing.
But the queen’s seer had declared it was beyond that.
“We are on the brink of war. Again. And I will not let beings we have so benevolently graced our gifts upon ruin our world. I am afraid the gate must close.”
Good. I wished to stay here.
“I am sending all non-fae back to their own world. Human, vampire, and werewolf alike. I am afraid you are no longer welcome on Faerie.”
Horror rooted me in place. I felt Andraste clasp at my hand as she whimpered.
No.
“Do you think”—Aine’s gaze drifted around the room and stopped upon certain individuals for a few deliberate seconds, before turning to Andraste and me—“I am not aware of the inappropriate bonds that have been forged between fae and non-fae?”
I stiffened.
She knew Andraste was my mate.
“There are matings in this room that should never have come to pass. The stars, however, choose as they see fit and I have let it stand so long as it has not caused injury to our world. First, there was Abellio and her wolf. The grief they caused Earrach when they killed one of their princes …” Aine’s eyes glistened with tears. “Now, a royal subject of Fómhar has given her blood to her human mate to save his life after he was injured in a human war. This is a grave threat to our home. So I am sorry … but for the sake of peace, you are all expelled from Faerie.”
Outrage swelled out of the fae as I turned to stare at my love. “Andraste,” I whispered, terrified of never seeing her face again.
She burrowed into me, silver tears falling down her pale cheeks. “I cannot lose you.”
I shook my head in denial. This could not be happening.
“However, I am not so cruel …”
We whipped around to stare in hope at the queen. My heart thudded at the devious smirk on her face.
“I am not so cruel as to deny our children a chance to live here forever. As I close the gates, I will cast a spell out into the human world. In time, that spell will come to fruition in the form of seven children, born to human parents, but fae-borne.”
Everyone gasped at the idea.
Aine smiled. Smug. “Yes. Seven children and with them the ability to open the gate. They and their companions will enter Faerie. If they succeed, I grant them leave to remain here with us forever.”
Then the world shimmered, my head spun, and before I could kiss her one last time, Andraste was ripped from me.
I stumbled into the darkness of a familiar forest, the smell of pine and earth filling my nostrils.
No. I whirled to find my bearings and instead found Eirik standing with … Fionn.
But … I sniffed the surrounding air.
He was no longer human.
“Did we …” I looked around, frantic.
“We are home,” Eirik said flatly. “The bitch sent everyone back to Earth and closed the gate. Good riddance.” His gaze drew up Fionn. “What the hell happened to you?”
Fionn glared at my brother. “Aine made me fae.”
Eirik raised an eyebrow. “Immortal?”
“Yes.” He sneered. “She intended to keep me on Faerie with her. But a princess of Samhradh owed me a favor. She cast an illusion spell over me so I could find my way to you in the crowds. The queen’s seer, she told me if I held onto someone who would be glad to return to this world, I would be transported back with them. You are the only bastard I know who hates the fae almost as much as I do.”
“Then it is true,” I whispered, feeling like my heart might crumble within my chest. “The gate has really closed.”
“Yes.” Fionn nodded.
No, no, no.
“What now?” my brother said to the queen’s consort.
“Now, I return to my home, to my family. Where are we?”
“Germania. You are some ways from Éireann. How do you know the queen will not open the gate to return you to her?”
“She will not risk it. Her seer saw much bloodshed between the fae and human world if the gate remained open.”
My brother grinned. “She fears us?”
“No, you fool.” Fionn glowered. “She is trying to protect us. A war with the fae would wipe out this world. Aine might be a selfish, self-indulgent bitch, but she would not see to the destruction of an entire world. Especially not one that bears fae children. And whether you like it or not, vampires and werewolves are fae children.”
“This is not happening,” I murmured.
“Well,” Fionn said, clearing his throat, “thank you for the transportation. I will take my leave.”
And then he was gone. A streak of movement through the forest, faster than even Eirik or I could move.
“The children,” I whispered. “The children she spoke of. We must find the children.” They were the key to opening the gate. They were the key to delivering me back to my mate.
“Yes,” Eirik had muttered. “The children must be found.”
I did not know then that it was the beginning of a war between my brother and me, as he sought to destroy my only hope of returning home.
“Interesting read?”
Thea blinked, coming up out of Jerrik’s story to stare at Conall. He gave her a sleepy smile. Her heart beat a little faster. “It wasn’t just about his love for the fae world.” She tapped the book. “Jerrik was mated to a fae princess. He wanted to use the children—me—to get back to her.”
“You believe then?” Conall’s brows pulled together.
“I believe he was mated.” She dropped her eyes to the pages. “He describes it so realistically.”
“And the rest.”
Thea shrugged. “It sounds like a fairy tale.”
“Ironically.”
Thea met Conall’s gaze. “He describes the fae as contrary, often brutal. They thought themselves superior to other races. Why would the Blackwoods want to open a gate to that?”
“Magic,” Conall replied. “It’s purported to be a place of pure magic. Witches can only tap into a certain energy here. Faerie is something entirely different.”
She nodded and sighed, closing the book. Their eyes locked. “We live in a very strange world, Chief MacLennan.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “I hate to tell you this, lass, but you and I … we’re two of the very beings that make it a strange world.”
Chuckling, Thea lifted her legs off his lap and then scooted into his side so she could snuggle against his chest. Conall put his arm around her and drew her close. Stretching out her long legs—though nowhere near as long as his—she tried to quell the nervous fluttering in her stomach.
It wasn’t just from reading Jerrik’s accounts of a world she still wasn’t sure she believed in.
The fluttering was about Scotland. Torridon.
Thea was about to meet the pack.
&
nbsp; Conall’s pack.
She watched as Conall slid one leg under one of hers, inviting her to curl it around him, which she did. Tangling them together.
Together, Thea reminded herself.
They were in this together.
To Conall’s relief, he and Thea made it back to Scotland without incident. The Blackwoods had either lost their trail or word of Eirik’s defeat was already making the rounds, and fear of Thea had taken root.
He still marveled at what he’d seen in Vik’s apartment. What being on Earth was powerful enough to emit pure sunlight, killing only the vampires she’d been intent on destroying?
It was magic.
Pure and simple.
It was fae.
Conall couldn’t think on it too long because he feared the danger it represented for her. Instead, he concentrated on watching her reaction as they drove toward Torridon. Upon arriving in Immingham, they’d taken the motorway all the way home past Yorkshire and the Lake District. They crossed the border into Scotland, driving past the pretty lowlands, none of which Thea could see because it was nighttime. However, the dawn broke just as they reached Inverness.
“It’s beautiful,” Thea whispered, staring out the passenger window as they crossed the Beauly Firth. The clouds hung low over the shallow mountains, turning the water of the firth gray.
“This is nothing,” he promised.
Conall knew the moment the beauty hit her. The sun broke through the clouds; the skies cleared as they turned off the main road at Kinlochewe and toward the single track that would lead to Torridon. When they turned a corner a small loch appeared, surrounded by towering mountains, and Thea let out a little whoosh of breath. Keeping an eye on the road for oncoming traffic and watching Thea was difficult, but he caught the wonder on her face and pride bloomed in his chest.
Out here the rest of the world felt far away. It wasn’t an isolating feeling. At least, Conall didn’t think so. It was a piece of the planet that had been left untouched. Majestic and peaceful.
Thea didn’t speak as they drove, her eyes wide, her head tilting back as she peered out the window. “The mountains are huge here,” she whispered, craning to see the peak of the one they drove under. Sporadic clusters of forest interrupted her view.
“Beinns,” Conall replied. “We call them beinns. This here is Beinn Eighe, two of which are classified as Munros.”
“What’s a Munro?”
“A mountain with a height over three thousand feet.”
“Wow,” she said. “Conall … it’s majestic.”
He smiled, nodding. “That’s the exact word I always think of when I’m home.”
“You never tire of it?”
“Never.” He gave her a meaningful look. “There are special kinds of beauty that not even constancy can dull.”
Her cognac eyes warmed as she realized he wasn’t just speaking about his home. “Does your pack know how romantic you can be?”
Conall grinned. “No. And they’d never believe you.”
Her laughter caused a pleasurable ache in his chest and he braced himself as they turned right past the entrance to Inveralligin, where his home was. “We’re not heading to my place just yet. We’re going to the Coach House. The Canids are staying there, and I’d like to get that confrontation over with so we can concentrate on bringing Callie and James home.”
Her expression shut down, reminding him of the woman he’d met before he’d gotten to know her. If she was donning her mask, she didn’t feel safe. That pissed Conall off. “No one will harm you here, Thea.”
“I know that.” She gave him a pained smile. “I’m just a little nervous. Wanting people to like me hasn’t really been a priority in a while. But if your pack is to be my pack, I want them to accept me.”
He took in her beautiful face, saw beneath to the tortured survivalist; to the woman who held within her a deep well of kindness and compassion, buried beneath a steel layer that had been necessary to endure what she had. “They’d have to try hard not to like you, lass.”
She shot him a flirty smile. “You’re a little biased.”
Conall grinned but stopped when her smile fell as they pulled into the car park of the Coach House. There were more cars than usual, and Conall could only hope they belonged to the pack and not humans who’d dared to venture into Torridon.
The main door to the building flew open before Conall had even fully gotten out of the car. Grace hurried across the lot, her expression taut, and he didn’t know if she would hug him or kill him.
He wasn’t certain she knew either.
At the last second, however, she threw her arms around him and Conall bent down to embrace and comfort the woman who had been like a grandmother to him his whole life.
“Days,” Grace said, pulling back, anger flashing in her eyes. “Days without word.” Her attention caught on the scar on his neck. “What … how … There’s a scar on your neck, young man, which can only mean silver was driven in there at some point.” She paled.
Conall settled his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Grace. Things … have been complicated. I will explain all. But I need you to call the pack members who are closest for a meeting here in two hours.”
“Some members are already here.” She gestured to the cars. “When we heard no word, Mhairi and Brodie called out to the pack to regroup.”
He nodded, pleased, because that was exactly what he expected of his delta and interim lead warrior in the absence of the alpha and his beta.
The sound of gravel underfoot brought Grace’s head up toward Thea. She frowned. “Is this her?”
“Aye, but things arenae as they seem, Grace.” Conall moved past her to take Thea’s hand. “Grace, meet Thea. Thea, this is Grace. Grace is family, not just pack.”
Thea’s hand tightened on his and she held out her other to Grace. Conall almost grinned because his mate was not the type who could paste on a smile to reassure someone. Her inner anxiety made her scowl at Grace. “Nice to meet you.”
Grace studied Conall’s hand in Thea’s. Confusion marred her brow as she slowly stepped forward to take Thea’s hand and as she did so, a gentle wind blew up from the loch. Grace sniffed the air and her eyes grew wide.
Her head jerked toward his. “Conall.”
Mating was rare. Conall’s mother and father were the only mates the pack had known for a hundred years. Not even Grace and Angus, who were as good as. Yet, Conall knew Grace understood. She smelled their scents. Having been friends with the previous alpha couple, she knew what it meant.
“It was quite a surprise for us too,” Conall told her dryly.
“Oh, Conall.” Worry darkened Grace’s eyes. “What does this mean?”
“We have quite a story to tell. That’s why I’d like as many pack members here so I only have to tell it once. And so we can come up with a plan … to get Callie and James back.”
Grace’s eyes flew to Thea, wariness in them that Conall did not appreciate. The expression made Thea try to pull out of his grasp. He tightened his hold on her.
“She’s my mate, Grace,” Conall confirmed, his voice hard.
No one would mess with his mate, emotionally or otherwise.
Grace gave him a sharp nod. “That’s all well and good, but we have to get my lass back.”
Callie would be Grace’s priority and Conall understood that. “We will.” He gestured to the house. “While you call the pack, Thea and I need to meet with the Canids. I presume they’re still here.”
The older wolf’s expression grew concerned. “Aye, they’re still here. I doubt they’ll find this news particularly welcome, Conall.”
“It cannot be helped.”
Thea tugged her hand again and unless Conall wanted to hurt her, he had to let her go. He scowled down at her as she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she stared longingly out at the loch behind them.
“Grace, go inside, please. Ask the Canids to meet me in the dining room. Make sure it’s empty. And then s
end out the call.”
“Of course,” she muttered before striding back to the house.
Conall turned into Thea and took hold of her hips to hold her against him. She frowned up at him as her hands came to rest tentatively on his chest.
What was going on here?
“Talk to me.”
Thea lifted her chin in defiance. “She doesn’t like me.” She said it without betraying emotion of any kind, even though Conall knew she was trying to withdraw to protect her feelings.
In that moment, he wanted to lay her over the hood of his car and show her how much it didn’t fucking matter what anyone thought beyond the two of them. Yet, he realized reluctantly that of course it mattered that his pack accepted Thea.
She may not be a werewolf, but she was an alpha of a sort in her own right.
The pack would have to want to follow her for this to work.
“She doesnae know you. And right now all she’s thinking about is what she’s been told by Ashforth, but mostly she’s just thinking about Callie. Grace’s husband Angus was my father’s cousin. We never knew my mother’s parents, and our paternal grandparents died before we were born. Grace and Angus are like our grandparents, and so Grace’s first thought will be of Callie. However, once we explain everything, they’ll come around. They have to.” He bent his head toward her, his own expression hard. “I am the alpha and they will respect my choices.”
“But you just said it wasn’t a choice.” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“What?”
“When Grace said the Canids wouldn’t be happy about this”—she gestured between them—“you said ‘It cannot be helped.’” Her smile was bitter and hard and cut Conall to the quick. “That’s selling it a little differently to how you’ve been selling it to me.”
Realizing his mistake, Conall cursed himself. “Thea,” he said, gentling his tone, “I didnae mean it like that.”
