Page 3 of Wolf Heir (Highland Wolves of Old #3)

Magnus’s brow furrowed, but he gave a slow nod. The look in his gray-blue eyes told her everything—her happiness mattered more than his doubts. He'd welcome this child into their home and raise it alongside their own.

None of the crofters nor that of the rest of their pack that lived at the castle had reported a missing infant, which meant this gift could truly be theirs. Magnus's weathered hands would someday guide two strong backs in the fields.

He gathered Tamhas into his arms, hushing the boy's cries while the newfound babe continued its plaintive song.

"He just needs to be cleaned up and fed. He'll be fine," she assured Magnus when she entered the croft, and he followed behind.

Since she was newly in milk, she could feed both the boys.

But what about shifting as wolves? Babies shifted at the same time as their mothers.

But Elspeth wasn't his mother. She wondered if his mother had died in childbirth. And the babe’s da couldn’t care for it. Why not give him to a family to raise?

"Shifting will be an issue. Tamhas will learn to be a wolf from birth. This boy is one too, but until he's around five summers, he willna be able to shift unless his mother is still alive somewhere nearby and shifts."

"We'll worry about it later." Elspeth quickly removed all the swaddling and saw that he was a healthy boy with what she swore was a wolf's head birthmark on his shoulder. He was still crying, not liking being naked, dirty, and hungry. At least she had warmed him, and his lips were a pretty pink.

Her mate placed Tamhas in his bassinet, brought her fresh swaddling clothes, and even cleaned the new baby up. She loved how caring her mate was. Once the baby was clean, she sat on the rocking chair Magnus had made for her and began to feed the bairn. “We'll have to give him a name."

"Aye. Coinneach."

"Coinneach. That’s a nice name. Handsome. He is that. We canna tell anyone we found him because we dinna know why he was abandoned."

"Aye." He observed her as she continued to feed the bairn, sucking at her nipple. He always looked so amazed and content to see her feeding their son. Now two sons, just as it was meant to be.

“That means no more celebrations with the pack.”

Magnus agreed.

Once the baby unlatched from her nipple and fell asleep, Magnus burped him and put him in the cradle, which was big enough for two, since they had initially planned for twins. Then, she began to feed Tamhas.

"We have to treat them like brothers. Like they were twins from birth," she said.

"Aye."

She was so glad Magnus was agreeable. Not all men would be. Once she had them both in the cradle, he insisted she lie down and rest. He still had a half-day's work to do on sowing seeds for the crops and wanted her to get a good night's sleep. She appreciated that.

Before long, she fed both boys again, and they seemed happy to snuggle together to stay warm. When they were too big for the cradle, her mate would make a pallet for them to sleep on.

Shocked to see his mate return home with an abandoned baby boy, Magnus’s spirits lifted to see how much she adored the newborn.

He would fight to the death to keep the boy with them.

He was still worried about the issue of one boy not shifting while the other could.

Still, they would make do somehow and be a happy, loving family.

As the boys grew, they played with each other from sunup to sunset. Sometimes, Elspeth would shift to show her son the ropes of being a wolf, while Coinneach seemed amused and watched his brother's antics.

Once Elspeth shifted back, she told Coinneach, “You will turn into a wolf soon on your own.” She had told him numerous times that he would turn wolf soon. He was nearly five, and they'd heavily anticipated his change. But still, he hadn't turned.

"He'll be all right," Magnus said quietly to his mate once the boys had fallen asleep after a hectic day. "We all shift at different ages in the beginning, once we dinna shift to our mother's change."

"I just wish it were sooner than later. I feel he'll fall behind on learning our wolf skills."

"He's very observant and watches every move we make when we're wolves. It will be instinctual once he shifts."

They finally settled down on their pallet for the night, the full moon lighting the night sky, when a woof came from the boys' bed. Not Tamhas’s. They knew his whimpers, woofs, and little wolf howls.

This was different, and the next thing they knew, Tamhas had shifted and tackled Coinneach on the bed. Coinneach was now a wolf like his brother and could change at will. That meant a lot of catch-up playing, play-fighting, and showing dominance over each other.

Both mom and da loved the boys, but they could see from the beginning that Coinneach was the true alpha, more aggressive, more exploratory, and curious by nature, which sometimes got them into mischief.

Both were skunked one time, and another time they came home crying, wearing porcupine quills on their muzzles. His brother was more of a follower.

As they grew older, Coinneach and his brother had done their chores and fought each other with sturdy branches they’d fashioned into wooden swords.

They were always at the beck and call of the clan chief, should they have to battle invaders or neighboring clans, when riders suddenly approached, garnering their full attention.

A group of men halted their horses near the brothers fighting in the meadow, and Coinneach and Tamhas watched to see what they wanted.

Their mother and da came out to see the newcomers and waved.

One was a boy about their age, and he seemed intrigued by them.

His dark brown hair was pulled back in a tail, his brown eyes considering their prowess.

“Chief Daire, welcome,” their da said.

Coinneach and his brothers had never met the chief.

“Sup with us?” their mother asked, as if they had enough food to feed the chief and his entourage.

Were they even wolves?

The boy slid off his horse and joined them. “I’m Alasdair. Can I join you in the fight?”

Coinneach smiled. The chief and the others were wolves. “Aye. Do you have a stick? We can get you one. I’m Coinneach.”

“I’m Tamhas,” his brother said.

“We have brought a boar with us,” the chief said to their parents. “We’ll prepare it here since it appears my son has an important mission of his own at the moment.”

Coinneach wondered if the boar was intended for the chief of Middleborough Castle and why he would feed it to them instead of someone more important, while allowing his son to play with them. But all that was forgotten when Alasdair motioned to his horse.

“I have a practice steel sword and a wooden sword, but it wouldna be fair to fight you with my steel one.” Alasdair returned to his horse, pulled out his wooden sword, and rejoined them.

“I have two brothers, Rory and Hans, whom I practice with. My sister, Bessetta, would, too, if we allowed her to. But you and Tamhas might challenge me further.”

Coinneach fought Alasdair first, but he struggled to keep up with him. He was so used to fighting with Tamhas that he didn’t expect Alasdair to so easily knock his sword away and swiftly poked him in the chest, winning time and again.

Alasdair was well-trained in the art of sword fighting, and Coinneach eagerly watched every move Alasdair made. His feinting maneuvers when he came at Coinneach, Alasdair’s footwork, the power of his swings and thrusts.

Then Coinneach made a fatal mistake, thinking he had this down now, and thrust at Alasdair, but his new friend knocked the sword from his hand and sent it flying. Coinneach laughed. He hadn’t had this much of a challenge ever.

As soon as Coinneach lost his makeshift sword, Alasdair fought Tamhas, but he was easier on him, sensing that Coinneach’s brother was more timid, less sure of himself, which was why Coinneach needed someone more of a challenge to fight.

Coinneach retrieved his sword and observed Alasdair as he kept his feet planted apart just enough for good balance and struck at Tamhas’s sword.

Coinneach admired Alasdair’s ability to move about—his agility and speed, throwing off the enemy who might be looking to take down a foe who would stand still for him.

Alasdair didn’t strike Tamhas’s sword hard enough to send it flying, though he could have. Instead, he was teaching him the rudiments of fighting. When Tamhas thrust his sword at Alasdair, their new friend swept Tamhas’s sword away from him with a whack.

Coinneach glanced at Alasdair’s da to see what he was doing. To his surprise, he was chatting with his da like he was an important man. At the same time, both men watched to see how the boys were faring.

Alasdair was so easy on Tamhas that it took a while before he knocked his sword out of his hand. Coinneach admired Alasdair for building his brother’s confidence. Tamhas was much better at working on the farm.

Then Alasdair turned to face Coinneach. “Ready.”

Coinneach smiled. “Aye.” But his stance had improved this time after watching Tamhas fight his brother. He countered Alasdair’s thrust, whacking his wooden sword away. He even forced Alasdair back a few times, delighting all three boys.

After an hour of fighting, it was a draw. Alasdair couldn’t make Coinneach lose his sword, nor could he do that with Alasdair’s. They all collapsed in the meadow.

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Alasdair asked, watching the clouds slip across the sky.

“Nay, but I would love to,” Coinneach said.

They looked at Tamhas, and he licked his lips in nervousness. “Aye.”

“Good. While the boar is still cooking, we’ll borrow a couple of horses from our men and ride. Oh, and Chief Daire is my uncle. My parents died when I was young, and so he has been my da.” Alasdair ran off to speak with his da.

Coinneach and Tamhas walked over to join him.

“We’re going to ride,” Alasdair confirmed to them.

Coinneach’s da raised his brows, smiling.