Chapter Eighteen
The library was a total bust. After a minor showdown with Feidhelm over the fact that he was still denying me access to the pack’s ancient, circa 1994 computer, the Were-cherub was officially on my shit list.
I’d tried using my phone to research the brooch instead, but after spending a fortune in data-roaming charges and an hour of my life that I’d never get back, I’d found exactly zero pictures or mentions of a brooch on the museum website or in articles about the robberies. Basically, I’d hit a dead end.
I needed this brooch. My life depended on it. But how the hell was I going to find it if I didn’t even know what it looked like?
Donovan was off checking if anyone in the pack was wearing a brooch. He didn’t want to leave my side, but having him hovering over me made me even more on edge. So, he’d left. I thought identifying the brooch was the best place to start, but if his approach worked, even better.
I’m not finding anything. Please tell me you’ve had better luck.
No. I did manage to have an extremely awkward exchange with Lydia. She was wearing a hair clip that looked like it could be a brooch.
I didn’t know who Lydia was, but I wanted to know more. What’d you do?
I asked to borrow it.
He’d asked to borrow a hair clip? Good call.
I figured it was better than ripping it off her head. Anyhow, I touched it and tried to call Bhrunyz, but nothing happened. She gave me the oddest look when I handed it back to her.
Well, I don’t want to miss out on watching you being awkward with your pack. Where are you?
Sparring room. I’m working with Ian. I’m glad you’re coming here. I’d feel much better if you were in my sights.
He was worried, but I was going to be fine. We’d find the brooch before I ran into Bhrunyz again. We had to. The alternative wasn’t an option.
I found my way through the stronghold maze with a little help from Donovan. If I couldn’t figure out how to get around, I was going to need him to make me a map. This place was ridiculous.
At least I didn’t have to find my way to his quarters first. I’d dressed for a fight, assuming I’d find the brooch and our traitor right away. Apparently, I’d been overly optimistic, but the leggings, kicks, layered flowy shirts, and a hoodie meant I was set for pretty much anything. I might freeze my ass off if I had to leave the stronghold, but I was hoping to stick close by. At least for now.
When I reached the sparring room, it was crowded. Small groups had formed. Some were working out and some were sparring, but most were chatting while watching Donovan and Ian’s fight at the center of the room.
I paused in the doorway to watch. Donovan spun to avoid a hit, and Ian lost his balance. He slammed into the floor with a sickening crunch.
I winced as Ian got to his feet, his arm tight against his body. I wasn’t sure if it the bone was broken, but if it was, it would take a few hours to heal. This room made no sense to me. The only space that wasn’t gray stone was the wooden doorway. With stone walls and floors, a simple wrong move could send you to the pack medic. Not fun.
Why not pad this place? I asked Donovan through the bond.
Aye. We should. I’ve been meaning to make this room more modern, but some of the pack members like things the way they are. Donovan bounced on the balls of his feet. His sweatpants rode low on his hips, but not a single drop of sweat glistened on those perfect abs. What a shame.
Ian, on the other hand, was dripping. His T-shirt was stuck to his skin, showing his muscles. He was cut well enough, but a little too thin. His face was beet red as he tried to catch his breath and figure out how to take down Donovan.
I started weaving through the room, making my way toward Donovan, but couldn’t get over the fact that the sparring room at the Irish stronghold didn’t hold a candle to the one at home. I sighed. The stone was dingy and smelled a little mildewy from absorbing so much sweat over the years. It looked like there was going a lot more to do here besides installing Wi-Fi and making an emergency plan. The entire stronghold needed an overhaul.
Ian tried a pitiful move to kick Donovan’s feet out from under him, and I almost laughed. This was ridiculous.
Werewolves were naturally stronger and faster than humans. Adding in our ability to heal, we were pretty unstoppable. At least, that was what some Weres thought until they had to go up against something that was bigger and badder than them. That was why we Wayfarers trained so hard. St. Ailbe’s had a similar training philosophy, requiring two hours a day of intense training. Most young Were guys were also practicing for the Cazadores test, so they trained at least double that.
From what I knew about the Irish pack, they didn’t really leave their stronghold much. They kept to themselves, and they weren’t very welcoming to others. Donovan might like to have enough room for visitors, but the only person I’d ever known to have contact with the Irish pack was Shannon. And she’d never wanted to talk about her home pack. Ever.
It seemed like while they were hanging out in the stronghold, they’d let a lot of things go. They weren’t up to speed with technology or the modern era and their physical shape was pitiful.
Your fourth looks like he’s about to pass out. What’ve you done to him?
Nothing! I swear it!
I stopped next to a group of women. I’d been looking for Saoirse, but she wasn’t there. Thankfully, neither was Vivian. It took a minute for the group to notice me. Then, slowly, the little bits of chatter in the room died down as I stepped up behind Ian and tapped him on the shoulder. “You mind if I cut in?” I unzipped my hoodie and tossed it off to the side.
“No.” Ian bent over, hands on his knees. “Fuckin’ hell. Been sparring with that bastard for two hours now, and I’m tapped out.”
I patted his shoulder. “I didn’t get to see all of it, but he’s a beast to beat.”
Straightening, Ian huffed. “Can’t be done. It’s impossible.”
“Challenge accepted.” I rubbed my hands together. “Let’s do this,” I said as I waved Donovan forward.
Donovan stopped his bouncing. “You’re not going to beat me.”
I grinned. “Maybe not, but it’ll be fun to try.” And if I could hold my own against him, then maybe, just maybe I could start gaining some approval in the pack.
Donovan lunged toward me and I slid to the side. It was on. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but he’d still push me.
I threw a series of punches at him, trying to break through his guard, but he batted my fists away easily. On my last punch, he grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward.
Before he could put me in a hold, I arced into an aerial. The force of my motion with my whole body weight was enough to yank my wrist free.
I smiled at the muttering from the pack, but only had a split-second before Donovan started at me again.
Donovan kicked. I caught his ankle and twisted, sending him spiraling to the ground. He hit the stone with a heavy thud. I was pretty sure I heard a “Jay-sus” in the back of the room.
Donovan rolled to his back and grinned up at me. “I should really have mats installed.”
“You think?” I wiped a little bit of sweat off my forehead with my shirt. “This room isn’t doing you any favors.”
Donovan kipped up. “Let’s get it sorted right away. I’ve a guy we can call.”
I stepped back, raising my hands up to be ready for whatever Donovan threw at me next. “Good.”
With that, Donovan attacked again. Kick. Kick. Jab. He’d throw them, I’d block them.
Every time I managed to get a hit on him, more and more people joined in to cheer me on. It gave me a nice rush. Thirty minutes later, Donovan had me pinned. I’d built up a good sweat, but it was over. It was the same pin I’d used on Max. I was flat on my stomach, my cheek pressed against the stone. Donovan had my arm wrenched in an impossible position behind my back, and his knee was digging into my spine.
I couldn’t help but laugh. At the sound, his arms relaxed, and he bent down to brush a kiss across my forehead. “We need to work on your offense. You’re good with defensive moves, but you don’t plan ahead.” He pulled me up. “You don’t press me.”
I shrugged. “Agreed. I’m all about defense. Especially when fighting against someone stronger.”
“But if it’s someone stronger, you’ll need to fight smarter.”
Fair enough, but I wasn’t sure how to do that and not get my ass kicked.
“I’ll show you how.” He rolled off of me and rose to his feet before holding out a hand. I didn’t need any help getting up, but it was nice that he offered.
“That was impressive,” a voice said, and suddenly, I was aware again. The audience had fallen away while we were fighting. I’d heard them cheering occasionally, but ignored them. Sparring with Donovan took one hundred percent of my focus.
There were more Weres now. Almost the entire pack must have been watching us. Some faces were shocked and others were mad. Some looked impressed and pleased, while even more were… I’d call it unhappy.
But at least I’d won over half of them.
Ian came up to me. “I don’t believe it.”
I shrugged. “I’m a Wayfarer. Plus, I’ve been training with Donovan pretty much all the time for the last few weeks. And while he was gone to Canada, I had my older brothers on my ass, twenty-four seven.” I wiped sweat from my brow. “I wasn’t half this good a month ago.”
“That’s a lie,” Donovan said. “I can’t teach that in a year, let alone a month. She’s better than most Weres I’ve come across but has yet to realize it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” He was talking me up to them. That wasn’t true.
I’m not lying.
You don’t have to say that. We’re already mates.
It’s the truth. I swear it.
Part of me wanted to believe it, but I was used to being around so many amazing fighters that it was a little hard.
A couple guys came up to talk to Donovan, and I stepped aside, scanning the floor to find my hoodie. It fit perfectly to my body without being too tight, and it was cashmere. I’d never find another like it. Throwing it on the ground in a packed room might not have been my best call.
Just as I was about to give up, a woman stepped to me, holding my jacket. Tendrils of her frizzy, curly black hair were escaping her braid. She was a little shorter than me, but the way she was hunched down made her look way shorter.
I took my hoodie from her outstretched hand. “Thanks.” I gave her my best let’s be friends smile.
“I…” She trailed off, and I waited patiently, trying not to be self-conscious. “That was amazing. We haven’t… We don’t train all the time—I haven’t in years—but with what happened to John and Thomas, I can’t just sit around anymore. I want to learn. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind workin’ with me?”
My smile got so big, I was sure I was glowing. Finally. A solid in with this pack. I wasn’t about to pass that up. “Of course.”
That’s Francis. She works in the kitchen. I believe she makes the pastries.
Good person to know. Desert was the most important meal of the day.
Yes. Donovan was quiet for a second. The bonds are changing. Calming.
I couldn’t discount the awe in his voice, but that seemed way too easy. Really?
Yes. I think everyone was impressed.
He sounded so excited that I didn’t want to bring him down, but one sparring session wasn’t going to fix what was wrong with his pack. Maybe it was a start, but I wasn’t so sure that anything lasting would come of it.
Francis was the first to talk to me, but she wasn’t the last. For the next hour, I corrected forms, taught basic defensive moves, and genuinely had a good time. That didn’t mean everyone was suddenly buddy-buddy with me. I got more than my share of stare downs and dominance displays. Donovan had to step in to stop a heckling situation as I tried to teach the ladies. Every time the guys watching said something rude, at least one of the women would stumble. This pack had a few grade-A assholes that needed a lesson or ten on how to be a decent Were.
After a couple hours, Francis was covered in sweat, and her friends were getting sloppy with their movements. It was time to call it. “All right. That’s enough for today. Who else is ready for some food?”
I need to talk to Ian, Donovan said.
Cool. This group is wiped, and I’m hungry. Unless you want me to hang back?
No. I’ll meet you there in a bit. Just stay safe.
Don’t worry. I’m not going to be alone. And you’ll be just behind me. Donovan was worried about me, but he didn’t realize that I was just as scared about Bhrunyz being after me as he was.
I gave him a little wave and walked out with Francis.
“I know it must be hard coming here, but I think you’ll be good for us,” Francis said. That was really kind of her. Before I could say anything, she continued. “I didn’t think you would be. I mean, Donovan hasn’t had the best choice in women, but you’re proving yourself.”
I could’ve taken that badly, but instead, I accepted it as a compliment. And I had no idea how to respond, so I was keeping my mouth shut.
“I’m sure Riona’s thrilled that he’s found someone.”
What? I stopped walking for a second, before catching up with Francis. “Who is Riona?” It better not be another crazy ex.
“You don’t know?”
“I haven’t heard of her, no.” But I had a feeling whoever she was, this was going to be bad news.
Christ. If he’d slept with another mad wolf, I was going to flip.
“I figured as his mate, he’d have told you. I haven’t seen her in years since she doesn’t live at the stronghold anymore. It was too big for her to navigate, but it was sad to see her go all the same. She kept Donovan coming around, even when he was busy. He never misses his yearly visit with her…”
Oh my God. The woman was rambling and my fingers itched to grab her shoulders and shake the information out of her. Yearly visit? What the hell was she talking about? “Francis. Who is she?” The words came out a little crisp, my frustration clear.
She stumbled a few steps. “Oh. Sorry. It’s just… I mean… I just thought you’d know.”
For the love. Donovan. Who. Is. Riona?
Why?
I was going to kill someone. Please.
She’s my mother.
All the air whooshed out of me. I never would’ve guessed that. Not in a million years. I stopped walking again as questions ran through my mind. The first one was most important. Is she still alive?
Yes. Of course. You didn’t know?
How’s that possible? Your father’s dead. Usually when one half of a pair died, the other didn’t last long. Every Were knew the story of Donovan’s father. He’d died battling an evil fey queen. It was a legend.
Aye. But my mother had some fey blood in her. Even though she started aging after Da died, it’s been much slower than your average Were. She looks to be about early seventies in human years now. She’s still spry enough but has issues living with the pack. Too many fragile feelings. So she decided to move to a home with—
A horrible realization hit me. Does everyone know she’s alive?
In my pack? Yes. Course they do.
Do they know where to find her?
Yes, but no one reaches out to her. They know she craves her privacy.
We need to get to her. Now. I raced down the hallway and swung open the closest window. A blast of icy air chilled me to the bone. I longed for a thicker coat, but I didn’t have time for that. Meet me at the cars.
Two stories up wasn’t that bad. Tessa had done worse. I gripped the edge of the window as I climbed out.
“What are you doing?” Francis asked as she looked down at me from inside the window.
“Wish me luck.” I let go. The wind froze my skin as I fell, and I had a second to think that this might not have been the best plan before I hit with a thud. The landing rattled my teeth, but after a second, I was up and running around the castle to the garages.
I just hoped I wasn’t too late to save Donovan’s mother from the beast.