Chapter Five
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By the God, Calum had a nerve, ordering him to stay in Cold Creek. Growling under his breath, Owen led the way up the stairs in the Wildwood Lodge. Behind him, Gawain carried the female—the one who had caused all this fucking trouble.
Wait, had he actually thought that? Talk about badger-spirited meanness. He gave himself a good mental shake. The female hadn’t asked for any of this to happen. He’d sure run down the wrong trail when he figured she’d been in the city on a dare.
Captured as a cubling and held prisoner for a decade. Ripping her arm and leg open to remove the human devices. She was a fucking brave little cat.
Shay’d given her the room near the end of the hall. Owen opened the door and then turned the covers back on the bed.
Gently, Gawain laid the female on the mattress. Despite the bumpy gravel road to the Wildwood, she hadn’t woken once. She was exhausted. Poorly fed. Young and fragile and incredibly determined.
Unable to help himself, Owen touched his fingertips to her cheek. Silky soft…and overly warm. “She’s running a fever.”
“Not surprising. Her leg looked nasty.” Gawain tucked the covers around her. “She’ll shake off the fever now the infected wounds are clean and closed. The healer looked competent.”
“Aye, Donal’s incredible.” Fuck knew the healer had saved his ass more than once. Owen frowned down at the female. She was so tiny and helpless, and he wanted to settle into a chair and keep guard until she woke. Talk about being an idiot. He shifted his weight and caught his brother watching him.
“Want to stay?” Gawain asked.
“No. We got her delivered.” As off-balance as if he’d put a paw into a gopher hole, Owen headed out the door. Quickly.
“Herne’s antlers, Owen, slow down.” Gawain followed him down to the ground floor. “She’s a female, not a rabid skunk.”
He grunted.
A laugh halted his flight.
Shay and Zeb were in the sitting area near the stairs.
Grinning, Shay asked Gawain. “Was there ever a time Owen liked females, or was he born this way?”
Gawain stopped dead.
Ice in his gut, Owen stared at his fellow cahir. As far as he knew, his mother had despised him at birth. He had no memories of love, only of the stinging slaps she had dealt out. The hatred and the screaming, swearing abuse.
Shay’s smile faded. “A brathair-faoirm, I didn’t mean to…”
“Way to step on your own tail, brother.” Zeb always sounded as if he’d eaten rocks for breakfast. “Did the female wake up?”
“No, she’s sound asleep,” Gawain said.
“Sorry, cahir,” Shay said, still looking at Owen. When Owen nodded, he continued. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but we put you two in the large corner room next to hers. It has two oversized beds.”
Owen shook his head. “I’ll stay in the cabin I rented, thanks.”
“Cosantir’s orders.” Zeb’s black eyes held open amusement. “He said the female trusts you, and she doesn’t know anyone else here.”
“He also said to remind you that you’re to remain on two legs and rest.” Shay’s smile faded. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Calum sounded like a pissed-off wolverine. Made my fur stand on end.”
“Fine, I’ll stay for a day or two.” It was too much work to argue. Fuck, he was tired, and it seemed nothing was going right today. As if Calum’s orders had sucked away his energy, Owen sank into the nearest chair. Come to think of it, he’d just been healed. Like Darcy, his tail would be dragging for a good day or so.
Gawain gave him a concerned look and asked Shay, “Mind if I scrounge up some food for him from the kitchen?”
Before they could answer, the front door swung open, and Bree hurried across the room. Her pretty breasts bounced with every step, and her hair was such a golden yellow it seemed as if the sun had entered with her. “Vicki said the Cosantir sent over a hurt female. Is she badly injured? Has Donal seen her?”
Shay snagged her hand, pulling her into his lap. “The healer tended her. Gunshot wounds. Am I right, Gawain?”
“Aye. Infected. He had to remove a bullet.”
“Well, my God, who shot her?” Bree’s eyes narrowed as if she were ready to take on the attacker.
“Humans.” Zeb’s eyebrows lowered. “Glad I wasn’t there at the healer’s. Even strong shifters yell when Donal digs for a bullet. A female’s screams would break my heart.”
“She didn’t scream,” Owen said slowly. “Though she had tears streaming down her face, she was completely silent.” By the God, she’d been amazing.
“Impressive.” Shay squeezed the female on his lap. “Calum said she’s underfed, which means she’s in the right place, aye?”
“She’s in exactly the right place. Donal and I have been working out the optimal nutrition for post-healings.” Bree’s nod held the determination Owen had come to expect from the pretty blonde.
Humans called her a chef. Considering what she created in a kitchen, he’d call her a magician.
Zeb smiled at his mate, a rare sight in the lethal cahir. “She’s asleep, but Owen could use some food now. He got shot rescuing her, and Donal patched him up.”
“I remember how crummy I felt after being healed.” Bree jumped to her feet. “One big sandwich and the fixings coming up.”
Gawain gave her a pitiful look. “I didn’t get shot, but…any chance you have more food in there?”
“For you? Always.” Laughing, Bree headed for the kitchen.
Owen snorted. His littermate could charm pixies out of the trees and gnomes out of the sewers. When Gawain grinned at him, Owen couldn’t help but laugh. Yeah, despite the faded echo of Edwyn’s broken bond, it was good to be with his brother again. Their own bond had thinned over the years apart, but still held together. “Want to come back to my cabin when I leave?”
“Ah, about leaving…” Shay eyed Owen warily. “Calum also said you and Gawain were to mentor Darcy.”
Owen’s mouth dropped open. “Me? Mentor a female?”
When Zeb burst out laughing, Owen glared. “What’s so funny?”
“You, pigeon-brain. You insulted a female right in front of the Cosantir.” Zeb snorted. “You should have expected some fucking nasty consequences. I’d say you got off easy.”
Mentor a female. Owen’s fingers curved as he imagined clawing a nice set of stripes down Calum’s ribs. Of course, the Cosantir would kill him dead, but still…
By Herne’s holy antlers, this wasn’t fair.
*
The pillow smelled of soap and lavender. Eyes closed, staying immobile, Darcy regulated her breathing as she tried to figure out where she was.
Had the Scythe caught her?
There was no sound of traffic, no planes overhead. She wasn’t in the city. The tang of conifers perfumed the air along with the aroma of roasting meat. And she could smell one…no, two…males.
“I know you’re awake, little female. Might as well open your eyes.” The guttural voice sounded like the prìosan’s biggest chainsaw when the motor ran rough.
She knew that voice. Her muscles relaxed, and she opened her eyes. The mean looking shifter, the one called Owen, sprawled in a chair with his denim-clad legs stretched out. Very long legs. She’d heard cahirs were huge—this one sure was. His darkly tanned skin brought out the disconcerting green of his eyes. He’d shaved away the dark stubble, revealing the angular line of his jaw. Thick, dark brown hair touched his shoulders.
He shot her a sharp look. “How do you feel?”
“Well…” Her wounds no longer burned, but throbbed slightly as if bruised deep within. The rest of her ached almost as bad as the first time a guard had beat her senseless. “I’m fine.”
He snorted his disbelief. “Sure you are. You—”
“What time is it?” she interrupted hastily.
“You slept the day away. It’s after supper.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked around. A bedroom with a sturdily constructed dresser and dark wooden nightstands. The hardwood floor was covered with a beautifully woven rug. It didn’t have the smell of the healer’s house. “Where is this?”
“The Wildwood Lodge, a fishing camp that rents out cabins and a few rooms. It’s run by shifters.”
Rent? “I can’t stay here. I don’t have any money.” If she pulled the covers over her head, would the world go away?
“The room here is free for shifters in need. Don’t worry.”
Worry was all she had. How could she manage with no money? No food. She didn’t even have any clothing.
However… Her lips curled up slightly.
“What are you smiling about?”
He sounded so grumpy. The male needed an attitude readjustment, as the human girls would have said.
“Because, even though I’m broke, at least I can turn into a cougar. With the infection gone, I’m sure I can figure out how to hunt and feed myself.” Her smile widened. As a cougar, she could head toward the mountain range where the shifter-soldiers had their compound. Eventually, she’d find them.
“The Hunter should just trample me now,” Owen muttered.
“What?” Just looking at him took her breath away, as if the lethal grace of his cougar had somehow translated to his human form. But, from his irritated expression, someone should fetch the male some coffee or something.
“Listen, female, you’re not to go into the forest by yourself.” He rose and paced around the room. “Calum assigned me and Gawain to mentor you while you get control of your shifting. We’ll teach you to hunt and how to be safe in the wilderness.”
Exactly what she needed. Yet no lessons were more important than saving her brothers and the others.
She waved her hand in the air, although doubting the cahir would shoo off easily. “I’m sure I can figure it out, and I won’t be here anyway. I have to leave now.” When his frown grew, she added a belated, “But thank you, anyway.”
The deep rumbling laugh came from the doorway. Gawain carried in a tray of food. “Guess she told you, brawd.” He set the tray on a table near the bed. “Let’s get you sitting up so you can eat.”
Without waiting, he leaned over and, with his hands under her arms, pulled her up to a sitting position. His hands were powerful, and the easy strength he displayed took her breath away. Compared to him, the Scythe’s human guards were underfed rabbits.
When he picked up the tray, she shook her head. Her bladder had set up an urgent demand. “I need to…um, use the—” How in the world did non-prisoners talk about…needs?
“The what?” Owen demanded.
Gawain laughed. “Brawd, you’ve got to get out of your cabin more. She wants the bathroom.” He put a long arm around her waist and lifted her out of the bed and onto her feet. The covers stayed on the bed.
She was naked…in front of two males.
“What are you doing?” Jerking away, she ripped the quilt from the bed. She’d barely managed to wrap it around herself before her legs gave out, and her butt landed back on the bed. She stared up at the two huge males. She couldn’t even stand on her own and…
Both of them looked at her as if she were crazy.
Gawain frowned. “What’s the—”
“She’s scared.” Sniffing the air, Owen took a step back. “Why are you scared?”
“I…you…”
“You’re men, and she doesn’t have any clothes on. Duh, guys.” A blonde woman stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “Didn’t you tell me she spent the last decade with humans? Humans don’t do naked.”
“Really?” Gawain tilted his head. “How do they mate then?”
The woman choked as she started laughing and held up a hand for patience. Her shoulders were still shaking when she said, “Why is for later. Please ask Shay, not me.”
Gawain frowned. “But—”
“For now, how about you help her, with the blanket, to the bathroom before she bursts?” The blonde grinned at Darcy. “I’m Breanne—or Bree—and I left a T-shirt and sweatpants beside the sink. They’ll be big, but they’re comfy.”
Fears fading, Darcy smiled back. She’d forgotten so much about the Daonain. Of course, shifters would be comfortable with being naked since clothing didn’t trawsfur.
A new fear slid into her heart. Would she ever be able to fit in with the Daonain again?
She would. She was free now; she could manage anything. “Thank you, Breanne. That’s very nice of you.”
The blonde made a throwing away gesture. “All part of the Wildwood service. If you’re up to it, come on downstairs after you eat. Or take another nap, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she disappeared, Gawain bent down. “Let’s try this again.” His arm wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her to her feet, supporting her when her knees wobbled. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”
Owen still hadn’t said a word. Brows together, he watched her with the same wariness she watched spiders.
She bit her lip. “Owen. I’m…uh…sorry for over-reacting. And for how you were hurt rescuing me. I meant to say thank you. Are you all right? Did the healer fix your leg and wrist?”
His brow furrowed and then he nodded. “Aye, I’m fine. Thank you.” He glanced at Gawain. “You got this. I’ll be downstairs.”
As he stalked out, she stared after him in dismay. It was pretty obvious he didn’t like her. But what had she done?
“Come on, catling. Your food is going to get cold.” Gawain’s deep voice held the rolling sound of thunder. Firmly, he guided her down the hall and into the bathroom.
The bathroom had a shower—and she could feel every bit of grime sticking to her skin. Could smell her own fear and pain sweat. She almost shook with the longing for hot water and soap.
Gawain still stood in the doorway. “I’ll wait for you here.”
Looking into his blue eyes, she saw only concern. Oh, she really did like him. “Honestly, I can manage—I’m not dizzy any longer. And I’m sorry I kind of yelled at you.”
The sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Not to worry, sweetling. However, neither Owen nor I are familiar with human customs, and we’re to be your mentors. Will you tell us if something makes you uncomfortable so we can work around it?”
Hugging him wouldn’t be appropriate, would it? No, her brains were surely scrambled. She nodded instead. “I will. Thank you.”
As he strolled down the hall, she closed the door. Shower, shower, shower.
*
Wrist throbbing, Owen sat on the lodge’s back patio, nursing a beer and a bad mood. The little female had grabbed the blanket and looked at them as if she were a bunny cornered by hungry wolves.
Then, he’d braced for hysterics, for screaming, for her to throw things as their mother had. Instead, she’d apologized. And acted as if she was worried about him. Him, a cahir.
Why couldn’t she behave like a normal female?
Maybe he didn’t know what a normal female was. Bree hadn’t yelled at him or Gawain either; she’d laughed.
Come to think of it, he knew other good females. His own sister, for one. Then there was Ben and Ryder’s mate, Emma, who’d taken on a hellhound to save their tiny girl.
And Vicki. Despite her small size, Calum and Alec’s female could give any male a run for his prey. He’d understood right away why the two males had chosen her for their mate.
Gawain walked onto the patio, beer in hand. “Did you see how both females turned red?”
Owen started to grin. “They did. It’s a pretty color on a female. But who ever heard of being embarrassed for not having on clothes?”
“Eh, human customs. Who can figure them out?” Gawain took a good gulp of his beer. “Do they wear clothing to bed, then? Even when they’re mated?”
Owen snorted. “Brawd, you’re asking the wrong shifter.”
“She kicked me out of the bathroom. Is that a human deal, too?”
“She’s not in her bed?”
Gawain shook his head. “She said she could get back to her room. From the way she looked at the shower, I think she wants to clean up.”
A shower? Owen frowned. As a blademage, Gawain had probably experienced burns, cuts, and bruises, but possibly never a serious wound. He might not know how, after a healing, a person’s energy could slide right down the drain along with the hot water. The tough little female might not realize the danger, either.
He set his beer down. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
At the door of the bathroom, he listened. The shower was off, but he heard no movement. “Darcy?”
The soft sound wasn’t a reply, but was good enough for him. Stepping inside, he glanced around the big bathroom. Long wide counter, one sink, a wooden chair at the end. A toilet stall. An open-doored shower.
And there she was. Like a withered flower, she’d weakened and dropped to her knees in the shower. Her hair hung in long black tangles, not quite covering small up-tilted breasts.
He headed for her and stopped short. Naked. He wouldn’t stick his paw in that trap a second time. Snatching up a big towel, he bent and wrapped it around her. By the God, she smelled even more fragrant than a meadow of clover after a rainstorm.
“Up you come.” As he lifted her to her feet, she clung to his forearm, determinedly trying to stand on her own. Stubborn female.
“I can help you into the clothes Bree left,” he said. “Or take you back to your room in a towel and tuck you in.”
“I can do—” Her voice died under the look he gave her.
“Guess not, huh.” She sighed. “I’m sure not going to walk out there in a towel. Clothes, please.”
He had to admit he found her low voice damned appealing. It had a furry timbre, as if every word contained a purr.
After sitting her on the chair, he grabbed another towel. Gently, he squeezed the water out of her hair and patted off her shoulders and back. He handed her the towel to rub over her front…although he wouldn’t have minded drying her breasts himself.
Even with his courtesy, she blushed.
“Look how red you get,” he murmured, running a finger over her cheek to see if the color came off.
Her tiny growl made him grin.
He helped her into the loose T-shirt, then squatted and dried her legs off. Pretty legs. Too thin, but she had some muscles. She’d get more when they worked on her hunting skills. “Can you stand and dry off…the rest?
The red increased. Fucking cute, actually.
He didn’t wait, but pulled her to her feet, and stabilized her as she wielded the towel. Her ass was rounded and tempting. Her pussy was hidden by glossy black curls, and he could scent her lightly feminine musk.
He had a craving to smell the fragrance of her arousal as well.
No.
Surely, he wasn’t interested in this female. In any female.
He went down on his haunches and held the sweat pants for her. “Hold onto my shoulder and step in, little female.”
When she did, he pulled the pants up at the same time he rose. “There. All dressed.”
And still red.
He ran his finger over her cheek again. The red did make her skin hotter.
Her eyes narrowed. She sure didn’t seem afraid of him, at all.
If he teased her, would she scold him in her husky voice like an early-wakened pixie? Tempting, but she was tired. This wasn’t the time. Behave, Treharn.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he kept his mouth in a straight line, put an arm around her waist, and guided her back to the bedroom. She gave him a suspicious look, but let him help her into bed. Silently, he set the tray on her lap.
When he left, he was grinning. Herne help him, he hadn’t had so much fun in a couple of moons.