Page 6

–Storm–

MOMENTS AFTER GRáINNE dropped to her knee and hung her head—claiming the worst had happened to Callum—his being exiled from the Wolves of Ossary hit me like a bolt of lightning. I don’t say that lightly, either, because fiery water flashed in my mind before it felt like I had been electrocuted from the inside out, dropping me to my knees from the impact.

“What is it?”

Broderick crouched beside me, worry furrowing his brow. “What’s happening?”

“Only the worst that can happen to a wolf, never mind an alpha and king,”

Gráinne said gruffly, allowing Uncle Conner to help her stand despite initially saying no. “Tréan has exiled Callum.”

She rolled her shoulders as if trying to shake off the terrible feeling. “He is without a pack. Rogue in the worst way possible.”

I closed my eyes against the horrific feeling because if I knew nothing else, Callum didn't deserve it. Opening my eyes, I fought a wave of nausea.

“What did Callum do?”

I managed weakly because I felt his pain. The sense of loss his wolf suffered. Not yet ready to stand, I shook my head when Broderick tried to help me up. “Why was he exiled, Gráinne?”

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, knowing the answer before I asked it. “Was it because of me?”

“’Twas,”

Gráinne said without hesitation, yet her tone held no accusation. “His inner beast gave him no choice but to seek you out despite Tréan’s orders not to, so he comes.”

“Then he’s safe?”

I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion, shocked by how worried I was that maybe, in the end, he hadn’t survived that battle after all. One thing I knew for sure? Whatever had tethered Callum and me together across the centuries seemed to have grown significantly since I arrived here.

“Ta, Callum’s safe enough for now.”

A heavy frown settled on Gráinne’s face, and I understood why. Callum’s decision to defy Tréan’s orders would weigh on his inner beast the longer he was without his pack, and that was the last thing I wanted for him. Heck, it was already tearing me up inside as if I, too, had been exiled.

“And you very well could be,”

Gráinne warned, clearly following my thoughts when she narrowed in on me. “Any pack member that allows Callum close risks exile for harboring the enemy, so to speak. Harboring he who defied our alpha.”

Her gaze remained steady on me. “And whatever your plan, wherever you go, ‘tis safe to say you are already a Wolf of Ossary by relation alone. By the very fact Callum is your fated mate.”

There was no need to ask where Callum was now because, even as we spoke, I felt him drawing closer. I felt him through the cold, hard rock, like approaching warmth on my heart and soul. Like someone I forgot to remember even though he had been there all along.

“What are you going to do?”

I asked Gráinne as our eyes held, still on my knees. “Because you don’t have to stay with me.”

I shook my head once, making myself clear in more ways than one. “You don’t have to do this.”

What I was saying without saying it was I would let Callum find me and face exile with him if it came to that. I wouldn't have him out here alone when he only meant to keep me safe, despite wishing he had stayed with Ceara and the pups.

The time for that had passed.

At least for now.

“I will stay with you,”

Gráinne said without hesitation, impressing me yet again. “Callum is as much my blood as Tréan and Bain, so I will be there for him in his time of need.”

Her jaw clenched, and her wolven eyes flared as she acknowledged what I was willing to do. “And I will face exile along with you, Storm, because Callum, above all, does not deserve to be cast aside or to stand alone.”

I wondered about her words, above all, but knew I would learn why she used them eventually when I discovered more about the man who had only ever been made of dreams and nightmares. Of heated flesh and unquenched desires.

While I hated what Tréan had done to him, I couldn’t help but relish every step that brought him closer to me or anticipate what it would feel like to finally lay eyes on him in his entirety beyond the window of slumber and scattered dreams.

Beyond the fiery ocean that had once brought us so very close.

“I owe no pack loyalty now, peanut,”

Uncle Conner said, still coming to grips with Naya taking over what was left of the Boston faction of the Irish Wolf Mafia but not nearly as broken up about it as he could have been. “So, of course, I’ll stay by your side.”

He nodded at me once, letting me know he had my back. “I’m right here with you.”

“As am I,”

Broderick swore. Still crouched beside me, he held out a cup of water he had manifested. “Might you drink some?”

Grateful now that my nausea had waned, I stood and drank, thirstier than I realized when the cool liquid slid down my throat. In fact, I had become so parched I drank the entire thing and frowned at Broderick. “You knew that would happen to me, didn’t you? That I would need to hydrate?”

I shook my head. “When I don’t usually need to after seeing the fiery water.”

“Because ‘twas only a prophetic vision then,”

he said softly, understanding me better than I did myself, or so it seemed as he stood as well. “Now that Callum draws close, it becomes something more, slowly bringing us all back to that day…back to each other.”

“Which included Tadc,”

I said warily.

“Maybe so, but he is not heading this way yet.”

Gráinne’s wolven eyes flared, and she inhaled as if catching a scent before she nodded with what seemed a mixture of pride and relief. “Callum draws close now.”

She put a finger to her lips and looked at us, speaking telepathically. “His wolf approaches, so let him see me first so he knows he is welcome and we accept him. ‘Tis also important he shifts to his human half first.”

Her eyes skirted over Broderick. “Lest his wolf respond on a more primal animalistic level than we need right now.”

Although tempted to deny what Gráinne insinuated, I could tell by the tension on Broderick’s face that the Irishwoman wasn’t off in suspecting Callum might be jealous of my Scottish friend.

“I saved you that day,”

Broderick reminded me as Gráinne headed for the cave entrance. “Not Callum, but me.”

“Surely he knew he couldn’t, even if he wanted to,”

I replied, still unsure how any of them could have been there the day my parents’ boat went down, but Bain had been there for Naya, so it was possible. Not possible, but without question, based on my vivid childhood memories. “Callum’s a wolf, and you’re a dragon. Big difference.”

Literally, no matter how young we had been at the time.

I was about to go on when Gráinne backed into the cave slowly as if urging someone to approach, and I forgot to breathe, knowing, without question, Callum was there. Here.

Almost.

Close.

Closer.

My heart slammed into my throat when a man as tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular as Broderick melted out of the shadows and appeared where Gráinne had stood moments before. He was dressed similarly to Uncle Conner and Broderick, only in dark chocolate brown leather instead of black. His striking, amber-colored eyes swept over everyone before landing on me as if he had known right where I would be when he saw me for the first time.

I felt the impact of our eyes connecting like a thunderclap deep inside me. As if finding each other at last somehow defined my very being and gave it a new shape. A better design. A perfect me.

A perfect us.

That was the only way to explain what it felt like being in his presence and beneath his steady gaze, caught in the flare of his wolven eyes. Merged together somewhere far beyond my dreams, to the place before my birth and after my death.

Although ensnared by his gaze, I still somehow saw him in his entirety. The handsome, chiseled contours of his bearded face and his thick mahogany hair flecked with light brown and silver. Saw the blazing Viking blade strapped to his back, once soaked in his blood. Felt the sting of a dagger in his shoulder mid-battle.

“You’re hurt,”

I whispered hoarsely, but no words came out when that same sting pierced my shoulder. I flinched in pain and shook my head because I felt what was coming, but it was already too late.

Broderick rested his hand on my shoulder to soothe me when that was the last thing he should do right now, and everything spun out of control in a heartbeat. He was there one second and the next, pulling a blade and defending himself against Callum.

“I am not your enemy,”

Broderick ground out as dragon eyes flared at wolven eyes, and Callum went at him viciously, growling in a way I knew was all his inner beast. With pure possessiveness because Broderick had dared to touch me.

More so, he had dared to save me before Callum could so long ago.

“Stop!”

I exclaimed when fiery sparks shot off Callum’s Viking blade as it crashed into Broderick’s sword, sending some sort of unseen energy into him I sensed rather than saw, and it more than alarmed me. It should alarm Callum, too, because whatever it was instigated Broderick’s inner beast, and I felt it screaming to the surface. If that happened, forget it.

Callum might be a strong alpha wolf, but he wasn’t an alpha dragon.

I’m not sure where it came from because I wasn’t a warrior by nature, but the idea of either of them getting harmed made me act and do something most would consider foolish, and it probably was, but what choice did I have?

These two men meant more to me than anything.

So, I unsheathed the blade I'd been provided and leapt between them, determined to put my back to Broderick because I felt I could get through to Callum better if I looked him in the eyes. But, for some unknown reason, I did the opposite and ended up with my back to Callum and took the might of Broderick’s sword, which was more than a little terrifying.

Unfortunately, yet I suppose predictably, because I wasn’t the fighter my cousins were, there was no grand moment of standing my ground and looking badass under the might of Broderick. If anything, I was the opposite as pain rushed up my arms at the impact, and I staggered back before tripping and falling straight into Callum’s arms.

Caught somewhere between pain and the impact of being against him, I met Broderick’s dragon eyes and saw exactly what Callum was seeing. Leathery wings blocking him from getting to the girl underwater. Fury keeping him back.

“It was my fury, not his, Callum,”

I whispered raggedly, unsure what I meant, only that I was right. “My fault, not Broderick’s…all my fault.”

Broderick blinked as if breaking free of the spell he’d been cast under from the Viking blade and lowered his weapon, the dragon in his eyes swiftly replaced with worry when my legs gave out. The next thing I knew, Callum scooped me up and issued a low growl of warning at Broderick to stay back.

“I’m fine,”

I tried to argue but couldn’t find my tongue. I was rendered speechless between still being somewhat caught under that fiery water, the impact of Broderick’s blade, and the feel of being so close to Callum.

I heard Uncle Conner cursing from somewhere nearby and Gráinne ordering us to follow her, but nothing more before silence consumed me, and I heard only the strong, steady thud of Callum’s heart. It was all around me, in me, filling me in a way that made me feel like I had been empty before. Something had been lacking, and I only rediscovered it now.

“Callum?”

I whispered, but nothing came out. Or had it? I couldn’t tell as I drifted beneath the fiery water one second, then in his strong arms the next. I breathed deeply, pulling in his masculine scent, or was I drowning in it? It felt like both. Too much and not enough at the same time.

“All is well, anamchara,”

he rumbled into my mind, sending shivers of awareness through me. “Less than you deserve, less than I wanted for you, but all is well as long as you come back to me…back to all of us.”

“Where am I?”

I replied, trying to make sense of being caught beneath the fiery water yet still wrapped up in his arms. “How do I get back?”

I felt his frustration and hesitation before he finally replied, “You need to reach out to him…let him pull you up.”

As if his words invoked it, I saw wings, then dragon eyes across the fiery water, before Broderick reached out for me like he had that fateful day so long ago. This time, I hesitated, more aware of Callum’s presence than ever beneath those waves.

“Let him pull you up,”

Callum repeated more firmly this time. “I will not interfere, however hard it might be.”

Hard? Why? What was he talking about?

“Take it because I refuse to lose you again,”

he roared into my mind, startling me so much I gasped and instinctively reached out, grabbing hold of a hand only for my eyes to snap open to Broderick’s.

“’Tis all right, my friend,”

he said gently when I must have looked as startled and shaky as I felt. How could I not when I realized I was cradled on Callum’s lap with Broderick crouched in front of me. Once again, caught between two men who had been battling each other moments before.

“Not moments ago, but nearly an hour ago,”

Callum said roughly, drawing my attention to him. To a face that had only ever been scattered in dreams. My heart slammed into my throat at being so close to him now. In his arms and against him, more aware of his earthy, masculine scent than ever as it seemed to wrap around me and gather me closer even though he hadn’t moved.

His pupils flared as our eyes connected, telling me his emotions were as heightened as mine. But then I felt that in him, didn’t I? Felt it as his strong body trembled ever-so-slightly beneath me how he was every bit as aware of me as I was of him. I felt something else, too, and it made my throat thicken with emotion.

“I’m sorry,”

I whispered, unsure what else to say when I felt his fear over not being able to wake me. Not just fear but terror, which seemed strange given this was our first time meeting in person, yet I understood it because I would have felt the same had our roles been reversed. Worried, I looked to his shoulder that, by all appearances, didn't appear wounded, but I knew it was. “Are you—"

“’Tis all right,”

Callum said, echoing what Broderick had said, his voice as wonderfully deep as it had been in my mind, only with a sexy, toe-curling Irish lilt that came through more clearly aloud than it had telepathically. Appearing unaffected by his wound, Callum's gaze roamed my face with what almost seemed like desire and longing, and he went to touch my cheek but stopped and cleared his throat, his voice rougher this time. “You should go to Broderick now.”

Broderick? Why? Whether I should or shouldn’t, I was soon swept off Callum’s lap and dropped onto Broderick’s in a cave I hadn’t seen before but knew was close to the sea because I heard waves crashing in the distance. We were all sitting around a small fire with Gráinne and Uncle Conner.

“How about I sit on my own?”

I suggested, trying to crawl off Broderick’s lap only to find myself weaker than anticipated.

“Give it a few minutes.”

Broderick handed me a cup of water, just as concerned as everyone else. “You have been having some sort of psychic episode since our swords connected, and it has taken a toll on you. ‘Twill be a wee bit longer before you’re strong enough to sit alone.”

I was about to deny him because, surely, I wasn’t that messed up, but when my hands shook as I tried to lift the water to my mouth, I realized he was right.

“Let me help you,”

he said gently, steadying the cup. Despite my embarrassment, I was grateful for it because I was thirsty and, again, drank it down.

Although acutely aware of sitting on Broderick’s lap in front of Callum, it seemed they had worked things out because they weren’t going at each other with swords anymore. Yet still, I felt an underlying unrest between them, so things weren’t as good as they could be. Should be. And if I knew nothing else, it was that I needed them both as much here and now as I’d needed them beneath the fiery waters of my youth.

“What happened?”

I finally said after finishing my water and setting it aside. I looked from Broderick to Callum, hoping I didn’t blush when I spoke to him because my embarrassment hadn’t waned in the least. “Sorry about falling into you earlier. I was…”

What was I exactly? I had meant to face him and convince him not to attack Broderick anymore. It would likely be a losing battle, and I didn’t want Callum hurt. The thought of it had terrified me more than I was willing to admit, even to myself.

“You were defending me, Storm,”

Callum said softly, his steady gaze never leaving my face. “Just as I was defending you.”

My cheeks warmed under his amber-eyed appraisal, making me overly aware I was definitely blushing, which only made me that much more uncomfortable on Broderick’s lap. I could only pray I felt strong enough to sit on my own soon because this was just weird.

“I didn’t mean to defend you,”

I said a bit breathlessly, feeling flighty when I was usually good at remaining focused and grounded—more so than my cousins ever would have guessed. Not right now, though. Instead, my cheeks warmed even more, and I stuttered, “Not that I wouldn’t have wanted to defend you if I could. I thought instead to reason with you if possible and defend…”

Broderick? Really? He was a seasoned warrior and a damn alpha dragon. “What I mean to say is I meant to protect you from him…and him from you maybe…and—”

“It worked, peanut,”

Uncle Conner said, coming to my rescue from where he sat with his arms crossed over his chest, taking in everything with a sigh before the corner of his mouth quirked. “Whatever happened, it worked because you broke them up and stopped a full-out battle that could have cost us an awful lot.”

“Right,”

I said slowly, remembering how close Broderick had come to shifting. I frowned at him. “Why was that? What happened when you first made contact with the Viking blade? Something happened because I felt it, and it seriously instigated your dragon.”

“It did more than that,”

Broderick replied, sharing the last thing I expected.

Something that could very well change the course of everything.