Page 4

–Storm–

I HAD NO sooner heard Tadc’s terrible and far-too-close howl on the wind in New Hampshire when Broderick tossed me over his shoulder and launched straight at the old oak tree out front. Seconds later, my ears popped like in a plane dropping altitude too fast, and everything morphed and changed.

From my lofty, upside-down perch, I knew I was literally in a forest straight out of my dreams. Although the gusty wind had a chilly bite, the scent of sea salt and the undeniably fresh air untouched by pollution was an aroma I had often inhaled in dreams over the years. Sunlight cut low through the trees, telling me sunset wasn’t far off.

“Why are you carrying me?”

I fumed into Broderick’s mind, somehow knowing it was best to talk this way for now. “I can walk on my own two feet.”

“You can, but not nearly fast enough,”

he replied before bolting into the woodland without shifting into a dragon as I feared he might, given how anxious he’d grown, especially when Gráinne and Uncle Conner both shifted into their wolves.

“I can move far faster than you in human form,”

Broderick went on, racing after them. “And I will not shift to my dragon unless I have no other choice.”

Although I had always wanted to see his dragon, I appreciated that he didn’t shift right now because it would draw too much attention to him. Yet still, it was damn uncomfortable riding on his shoulder, and I let him know it.

“If your legs were but a wee bit longer,”

he mused, flying after Gráinne and Uncle Conner’s wolves. “Mayhap I would let you run.”

Our height differences had been an ongoing joke between us for years, but right now, he had a point because he moved a lot faster than I could with his long, muscular legs, fueled by the strength of his inner dragon.

“This way,”

Gráinne said into our minds before she banked a hard left, and we heard several long howls echoing on the wind, along with blades clashing in the distance.

Despite being jostled around on Broderick’s shoulders, everything in me stilled at the scent I caught on the wind. An earthy, spicy masculine smell so enticingly familiar, I squeezed my eyes shut and fought a rush of arousal I seriously didn’t need to feel right now, given my position. Yet I couldn’t stop my response to it if I tried.

Not when I knew it was Callum’s scent.

Not when I knew how close he was at last.

“You need not feel embarrassed,”

Broderick said bluntly, in a way he needed to because the topic was awkward. “’Tis not a scent meant to appeal to dragons, so it has no effect on me, yet ‘tis one we need heed because ‘twill appeal to fellow wolves.”

“And male wolves in this era are far more dangerous,”

Gráinne added, right there in our telepathic conversation. “So best not to confront them until there are more of us.”

I held on tighter as Broderick started uphill, as agile on his feet as the wolves, before we entered a cave, and everything grew dark.

“Set her down here, Scotsman,”

Gráinne said. “’Twill be too narrow to travel with her on your shoulders.”

Relieved to be on my own two feet again, I gasped a little when my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could make out my surroundings.

“They are magnificent,”

Broderick marveled, his eyes bright with his inner dragon, allowing him to see in the darkness when his gaze locked on my eyes. “Your wolven eyes are as green as your human eyes.”

I couldn’t remember the first time I shifted, so I didn’t know what the world looked like through my inner beast's eyes, and it was incredible, not to mention convenient, that they kicked in even when I wasn’t in wolf form. One of the few perks of being turned into a monster.

“This way.”

Gráinne led us through the relatively small, damp cave into a narrow rock tunnel that spiraled upward. Uncle Conner was ahead of me, and Broderick was behind.

I tried to ignore how difficult every step became when I no longer caught Callum’s scent and knew more distance grew between us again. Worse yet, it grew while he battled because I knew he did, and despite how much I fought it, I couldn’t help my fear. The growing terror that he might die before we ever met in person. All feelings I tried to set aside because he wasn’t mine, but it was impossible.

“Shouldn’t you go help Callum?”

I couldn’t keep from asking Gráinne. “He’s not supposed to be away from Ceara and the pups, so maybe something’s wrong, and they could use your help. All our help.”

“Callum and Mave are excellent fighters, as are their warriors,”

Gráinne replied, speaking aloud, implying we were out of our enemy’s earshot. “They will—”

She said more, but my gift—or magic, as it were—kicked in, and everything went silent. Fiery water arose in my mind, and this time, Tadc’s evil eyes didn’t stare back, warning me he was coming, but another’s.

“Callum,”

I whispered, connecting with him in a way I never had before when a battle sprang up around me, and the sound of blades clashing didn’t sound far off like they had before but right here, right now.

It was almost as if I were inside him, fighting with him, as he swung a monstrous sword and cut down a warrior. I could smell the metallic tang of blood as he spun and dodged an axe before he whipped a dagger, and it landed with deadly precision in his opponent’s throat.

I gasped and struggled for air as more and more came at him, terrified for his safety despite how well he fought. Even though I tried to fight my fear, I knew he felt it because he hesitated, startled by my presence, and it cost him when I felt a sting in his shoulder.

Everything went from fast and brutal to slow motion as he pulled out the dagger in his shoulder and stared at it for a moment as if trying to understand how it had gotten past his defenses. Where I had felt fear for his life moments before, something else filled me now as I stared at the blade through his eyes.

Rage.

Pure, unfiltered, terrible rage.

Not just because someone had dared to hurt him but because I caused this. I had startled him. And it allowed the enemy just enough time to take advantage.

I became so enraged that the fiery sea water that led me here burned bright red, and the dagger I clutched, soaked with the blood of my fated mate, transformed to a different blade altogether. It was undoubtedly the Viking sword that had made its way to each of my cousins as they came together with their fated mates. The handle was engraved with dragons, and the metal carved with Celtic and Norse symbols was aglow as if newly forged.

Filled not just with fury but unimaginable strength, I couldn’t tell if Callum or I rushed into the fray, cutting down man after man with the fiery sword, because it felt so incredibly real. It was as if I were there, fighting to protect him even though he was the one fighting. I heard the battle raging all around us. The roars of men and women alike and wails of pain. Steel meeting steel in deafening crashes.

I, we, marveled at the flames spitting off the blade as Callum cut down one warrior after another until the last man standing was on the ground with the tip of the Viking sword at his throat.

Even though I knew Callum spoke and tried to get information from him, everything went eerily silent in my mind again, and the eyes of the man beneath his blade changed. Morphed. Became my worst nightmare.

“Tadc,”

I whispered, but I wasn’t sure anyone could hear or see me in my trance-like state.

While I knew the warrior wasn’t Tadc, somehow, as a small, lecherous smile curled his mouth, I realized he was in the same sort of trance. Even worse, he was undoubtedly up to no good and linked to me and Callum.

I tried to warn Callum to get out of there, but he roared back at me first. “Go! Run!”

I was so stunned by the sound of his deep voice in my mind that it took me several seconds to realize I was back in the tunnel, staring into Broderick’s eyes.

“Are you with us now, lass?”

he said, shaking my shoulders gently as if trying to rouse me from sleep even though I was still standing, only now I leaned back against the rock wall. “We have to keep going.”

When I heard the same urgency in his voice that I had heard in Callum’s, I looked at Gráinne, confirming what I suspected she already knew. “The battling we heard in the distance was Callum and Mave’s warriors. A distraction.”

While everything in me wanted to head that way and ensure Callum was safe, I knew I was in even greater danger now. I also knew by the way Tadc and I had connected in that lingering, evil look that it was good I hadn’t gone to him yet. I needed to think about the vibes I got from him first. Let my gifts find a crack in his rhetorical armor.

“Ta, the warriors Callum and Mave battled were a distraction, so we must keep going,”

Gráinne confirmed. Wasting no time, she started up the steep path again, but at a faster clip this time.

When Broderick and Uncle Conner eyed me with concern, I nodded that I was okay and moved along despite my shakiness, not about to slow everyone down any more than I already had. It was tricky, though, because the experience had been intense on several fronts. Even when muddling people's minds, I had never connected with anyone like I had Callum, and it was discombobulating and disarming. A crazy mix of fear, arousal, and exhilaration.

“What happened back there?”

Broderick asked me as we traveled. “This time felt different than before. You were much further away.”

I explained everything to the best of my ability. “It was as if I possessed Callum, but he was still very much there. We were fighting together with the Viking blade, and it was incredible. The sword was fiery and shooting sparks.”

I shook my head. “Then Tadc was there, too, connecting with us through that last warrior, as if he were trying to lock onto me…trying to pinpoint my location.”

“Which I mean to make difficult for him,”

Gráinne swore, coming to the end of the tunnel where heavy roots vanished into a tight, dark hole above. “This is one of the few entrances to where I’m taking us that requires a wolf to shift to their human half, in turn slowing them down.”

Grateful I was half wolf because I could not have managed this otherwise, I swallowed hard and rallied my courage when Gráinne climbed the roots and vanished, followed by my uncle. When I glanced back at Broderick, he gave me a reassuring look. “Dinnae worry, friend. If you fall, I will catch you.”

“As you try to hold on, too, in a tunnel the size of a drainpipe?”

“Aye.”

His dragon eyes flared, and he winked. “I’m good at not crashing to the ground.”

“Then here we go, I guess.”

Rather than give it too much thought and let my nerves take over, I grabbed a root and climbed. I had never been as fit or athletic as my cousins, running more on the curvy side, yet my inner beast kicked in because I moved right along. Thank God I had wolf sight, or this would have been terrifying. I was surrounded by complete darkness with cold, hard, suffocating rock closing in all around me and a prayer that the next vine clutch didn’t give out.

It felt like we were climbing forever, but it was likely only a few minutes before I left the vines behind and climbed into a hole after my uncle. I did my best to ignore the sharp sting on my knees as I crawled over frigid, jagged rock. At first, everything smelled of damp, pungent cave before a gentle, cool breeze scented with sea salt and brine swept over me.

Inhaling deeply, I was relieved when a faint light appeared ahead, and I knew we were almost out. A short crawl later, we entered what seemed to be a seaside cave high above the water.

“’Tis a dragon’s kind of cave, a proper lair, if ever there was one,”

Broderick said, admiring the spacious area with its stalagmites and stalactites. We joined Gráinne and my uncle at the exit overlooking the white-tipped waves crashing against the cliffs below. “Verra much so.”

“And a place I’d imagine it’s damn hard for a wolf to catch a scent,”

Uncle Conner said, noting the chilly wind gusting this way and that, whipping my ponytail around.

“’Tis and guarded by me and mine,”

Gráinne revealed, even though we hadn’t encountered anyone else yet. “Fellow Wolves of Ossary that like their own space. You might not see them, but they are out there and will protect us by protecting this cave and the many others attached along these cliffs.”

“Setting aside mine and Tadc’s obvious connection, won’t he realize we might’ve come here?”

I shivered at the memory of gazing into his post-battle eyes. “Won’t he assume it?”

“He might, but ‘tis one of several on éire,”

Gráinne replied. “And again, vast and far better guarded.”

When her eyes grazed over me before landing on the horizon again, I sensed she knew something I didn’t. Tadc would be coming, and nothing would go as planned. Not because of her, either, but because of me. So perhaps I simply sensed she assumed I would go to Tadc in the end if it meant keeping my cousins and their new pack safe.

After all, whether or not I had agreed to it, I hadn’t gone to Tadc immediately, just like Adlin requested. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t eventually, though. Not if it meant ending Tadc and bringing peace to the Wolves of Ossary. My nightmare about the day I lost my parents made it seem like I would be going to him, so that had to mean I could end him somehow. Stop him before he caused more harm.

“Come,”

Gráinne said, pulling me back to the present. A woman of few words, she headed back into the cave. “Let us go to my den and see everyone dressed appropriately for this era.”

“’Tis unnecessary,”

Broderick said, chanting under his breath. Seconds later, Uncle Conner and I were dressed in suitable clothing. Broderick and Uncle Conner wore similar outfits. Black boots, black trousers, or triús, a tunic, and a long leather great coat, or cóta mór, cinched at the waist.

As for me, I went from jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers to black linen pants that fit a tad too snugly, a leather top cinched at the waist that accentuated my full breasts a bit too well, sturdy fur-lined boots, and a dark brown fur cloak. When I narrowed my eyes at Broderick, he shrugged. “I dinnae have much say over what my inner dragon thinks is appropriate.”

The corner of his mouth shot up. “Though ‘tis safe to say your fated mate willnae hate it, aye?”

It was an awkward conversation to have with him, all things considered, but I sensed Broderick wanted to help me however he could while letting go of any possibility of the two of us ever being together. He wanted the best for me, and I couldn’t love him more for it, even if it would only ever be the love of a good friend.

Rather than respond to Broderick’s comment about Callum liking what I wore now—because he knew I wanted him to be with Ceara and the pups—I focused on my uncle, who frowned and grumbled about his new clothes.

“You look good in medieval garb, Uncle Conner.”

I grinned. “Who knew?”

“I did,”

Gráinne said bluntly. Her gaze raked over him, and she put off an undeniable scent. Wasting no more time on praise or even a flirtatious word or two, she gestured for us to follow her without a backward glance.

Though my uncle kept muttering about his new clothes, I didn’t miss his barely-there grin when he stalked after Gráinne. While hard to believe, I was almost certain Uncle Conner had met his match and maybe even found love for the first time, at least that I knew of. Time would tell…a rocky, turbulent, hard-to-read time, given the two of them, but time, nevertheless.

Broderick and I followed them from one tunnel to another until we ended up in a smaller yet spacious cave with an opening overlooking the sea similar to the other one, only more protected from the elements. The setting sun set the sky afire and splashed blazing pink over the craggy rock and rolling waves beyond.

“We will wait here until,”

Gráinne began before her voice caught, her eyes widened in shock, and she staggered.

“What is it?”

Uncle Conner said, alarmed. He tried to approach her, but she shook her head and put up a hand, urging him to stay back while grappling with something so overwhelming that she eventually dropped to a knee.

“Gráinne,”

he ground out, with distress I had never heard in his voice before. My uncle went to her whether she liked it or not and fell to a knee beside her. “What is it?”

“Bad,”

she said hoarsely, squeezing her eyes shut to obvious pain, surprising us when a tear rolled down her cheek and she hung her head. “The worst for any wolf, let alone my Callum.”