Chapter Six
After my shower, I went in search of food and Ciara. Thankfully, her office was by the estate’s main kitchen, so I could kill two birds with one stone. This time I didn’t care how much she hedged or tried to get rid of me. I was going to find out what was going on with her. Why she’d been ignoring me.
It took me a bit to work my way through the halls. By the time I got to the kitchen, my stomach was rumbling. Taking on Donovan and my brothers had burned a ton of calories, and if I wanted to stay in control of my wolf, I needed a solid meal. Or three.
I pushed through the double swinging doors. Ranges took up one wall. A gleaming slab of white marble covered the center island, with cabinets underneath that matched the black and chrome ranges. Another wall featured four full-size refrigerators next to three full-size freezers. A walk-in pantry bigger than three of my dorm rooms was off to the right. The cabinets, pantries, and fridges were stocked with anything and everything a Were’s heart desired. It was massive.
There were others in the room, but Ciara caught my attention. For the first time since I’d gotten home, she wasn’t running away from me. She gave me a nod.
She’d pulled her dark-chocolate colored hair into a high knot. The little bit of makeup she’d been wearing this morning was gone, and I wondered if she’d been upset. Had she been crying? Was that why she’d washed her face?
Without makeup, I could tell how much she older Ciara looked. Muraco was the only wolf I’d known to show his age, but he was super old, and his mate had died. He’d lived a long life and had an understandable reason to age.
But Ciara? She shouldn’t be aging. She couldn’t be. She was way too young for that.
No. It had to be something else. Whatever was bothering her must be weighing on her, but she’d bounce back.
Ciara closed the distance between us. “May I have a word?”
“Of course. You don’t have to ask me. Do—”
She shook her head. “In my office?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“You’re going to like what’s for dinner tonight,” our head chef, Enzo, called out as I walked by. He was sitting on a stool at the counter. Papers were piled around him, and his assistants were meal planning. Chef Enzo and his staff of three traveled with the Wayfarers wherever we went. When a full stomach was the difference between being in control and not, food was a big deal. Weres took mealtime seriously, and cooking for a pack was a full-time job.
Curious, I had to ask. “What’s for dinner?”
“Spaghetti pie.”
I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek. “My mother’s going to be so mad. I love it!” She was way too snobby to eat something that messy.
He laughed. “It’s also your favorite.”
“Yeah. But ask me why it’s my favorite.” I gave him a wink.
Enzo chuckled, and I made my way through the kitchen toward Ciara.
She was the only female Were I knew who was allowed to live on her own. Even though Ciara lived with us, she wasn’t a member of our pack. Something bad had happened to her, and ever since, she wanted nothing to do with packs. At all. For a male, that wouldn’t be a problem, but Weres obsessively protected their females, no matter what we wanted. Very rarely, there was an exception to the rule. She was that exception.
It had always struck me as odd that she was allowed to be alone, or unprotected, as my brothers would call it. When I was little, I’d gotten curious and asked her why. I’d have given anything for that kind of freedom.
All Ciara had said was that her freedom had a high price—one she’d never wish on anyone. The way she’d said it, with a pained look in her eyes and a quiver in her voice, had made me afraid to ask more, so I never brought it up again.
Staying with us, Ciara got the freedom she craved but had the protection of the pack. She might not have pack bonds hovering over her all day, but she was looked after.
We moved through the kitchen’s back door toward the offices. Ciara was technically our household manager, but when I started having issues with my mother, she’d stepped into nannying. It wasn’t official. It started out with me pestering her, and her being kind enough to indulge me. Eventually, she’d agreed to travel with the pack and help watch me. Now that I was at school, she was back to just managing the Colorado estate.
Ciara’s office had an L-shaped desk built into the wall. Books and pictures scattered the shelves. Most of the pictures had me in them. The best part of her office was that it smelled like her. Her scent was always tinged with a bit of lavender, and just being around her felt calming. Maybe it was the scent, but it was also just Ciara.
She sat in her chair and motioned to the soft leather armchair next to her desk.
I sat. “What’s going on? Why have you been so distant?”
“Are you in need of help?”
That caught me by surprise. Why would I need help? “No. I’m okay.”
Ciara shook her head. “Did Donovan hurt you? Because if he did, you don’t have to stand for it. I can help you. I’ll—”
“No.” I held up a hand to stop her. “No. Donovan would never hurt me.” The jerkface had even been pulling his punches.
Did I just hear you call me a jerkface?
Why did he manage to tune into my head at the most inopportune times? Shut it. This is a private conversation.
Understood. I was just checking on you. Seeing if you wanted a bite.
My stomach rumbled again. Yes, but I’m talking to Ciara. Finally.
All right. I’ll shower and see where you are after.
I turned my attention back to Ciara when she started speaking again. “You don’t have to cover up for him. I know he’s powerful and—”
“I’m not covering up for him.” Wow. I’d thought she wanted to explain why she was mad at me. I racked my brain trying to figure out what she was talking about, but all I got was more confused. “Why do you think he hurt me?”
Ciara started twisting her skirt in her hands again. “He was very mad when he arrived.”
“Donovan was super mad at me, but he’s not now. I…” I sighed. “It was my fault—”
“That’s what all abuse victims say.” Ciara waved a finger at me. “I’ll not have you going through a Full Moon Ceremony with that man.”
Ciara thinks you hit me, I told Donovan through the bond.
Does she? His voice was filled with surprise, and a hint of pain.
Why does she think you’d hit me? Did you hit her? It seemed like a crazy thing to ask—something I couldn’t even believe I was asking—but I had no idea why Ciara would think he’d hit me unless it was a pattern for him.
Don’t be ridiculous! I never laid a hand on her. He grunted. Maybe I didn’t protect her as I should’ve. There are some regrets on my end, but I never hit her. I’d never abuse my pack members.
“He says he never hit you. So, what’s the deal? Why do you think he’d hit me?”
Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t—I don’t—You’re talking to him? Now?”
No way. I wasn’t going to answer her question until she answered mine. “Why do you think he’d hit me?” I asked again.
She was quiet for a second; her lips pressed firmly together before she finally spoke. “Because he was so mad. His power and anger hit us before he got here. It was terrifying.” She paused. “You’re true mates?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Then there’s no avoiding it.”
“Avoiding what?”
Ciara rubbed a hand across her forehead. “You can’t…” When she met my gaze, her eyes were glowing orbs of amber. “I didn’t know how to tell you, especially after everything you’ve been through. And I was worried what would happen if I told you and then Donovan found out. But I can’t be afraid of him or his pack now.”
Now she had my undivided attention. “Go on.”
“I know you’ve been wanting a mate, but I have to say this or I won’t forgive myself.” She let go of her apron. “Don’t join the Irish pack.”
That was impossible. I had to be a part of Donovan’s pack. He was my mate. Unless he decided to leave his own pack, I had no choice. But I needed to know what her reasons were. Especially after Cosette’s warnings.
I braced myself before I spoke again. “I know there are reasons we stayed away—Dad always said the Irish pack wasn’t friendly—but everyone in it can’t be bad. Can they?”
“Aye. It’s bad.” Ciara shook her head. “Some wolves are okay enough, but others… Donovan’s gone too often with his Council work, and when he’s there, he forgives too much.”
Leather creaked as I shifted in my chair. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Aye. ‘Tisn’t.”
I grew cold as I thought about the implications of what that meant.
“He might be your mate, but you’ll have to watch your back. There are people in the pack who want to control it. They won’t like you intruding. They’ll also know that taking you out will weaken Donovan, and for some of them, that’s a heady temptation.” Ciara paused. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to back out.”
I blew out a breath. “There’s no backing out. We’re true mates.” Whatever problems his pack had with me—or him for that matter—I’d have to deal with them.
“Just be on the lookout. If it’s anything like it was when I left, Vivian runs the whole show, and she’s been in Donovan’s bed.”
Okay. So that stung more than I wanted it to. I knew in theory that Donovan had been with other women, but theory was different than having a name. A real person who had occupied his bed, possibly for decades.
I leaned back in my chair. “How can Vivian run the pack? She’s his third, right? With an Alpha like Donovan, that doesn’t seem possible.”
“One would think, but…” She trailed off, lost in thought.
I had to ask. I’d always promised myself I’d leave Ciara’s secrets alone, but I had to know what brought her to America. “What happened to you? What did the Irish pack do to drive you away?” Especially if she was the weakest Were in the pack, she should’ve been protected. For her to seek refuge with our pack yet be allowed to avoid joining, it had to have been bad.
She fidgeted with the papers on her desk before releasing a sigh. “You cannot tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”
“Of course.” I wouldn’t betray her. Not ever. She was the reason I’d made it through childhood with my self-esteem intact.
Ciara was quiet for so long that I wondered if she’d decided against answering my question after all. Finally, she cleared her throat and started her story. “I thought Vivian was great at first. She was very charming, and I looked up to her. When I was growing up, she was kind to me. I never did figure out what caused her to change…” She paused. “The first time I realized we weren’t true friends was… I guess it during sparring practice.” She looked up, and it was almost like I was watching a light bulb go on in her head. “Vivian didn’t like to spar. She didn’t like any of the fighting. To be honest, neither did I.”
I laughed. “I can’t see you fighting.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I’d say not. But just in case something should happen, every pack member was required to know how to fight. Much like it is here with the Wayfarers, there were always people practicing. But in the Irish pack, it isn’t such a to-do. Those of us who didn’t favor training were assigned classes every other week to make sure we stayed fit enough in case any of us faced a threat from the fey or whatever else might come about.” She sighed. “Well, that day Donovan was actually in the stronghold, so he came by sparring practice. I was fighting John—Donovan’s second—and I was doing pretty well at it, if I may say so.”
“Go you!”
She laughed, clutching her hand to her chest. “I’d been having a row with Theron over something idiotic.” Her laughter drained away, leaving heartbreak in its wake.
“Who’s Theron?” She never talked about her past. It was amazing to finally get some details.
“He was—” Ciara’s eyes welled before she blinked back the tears. “He was my mate. Or he should’ve been.” She cleared her throat, putting an end to that question.
I couldn’t let that go. “You had a mate?”
“Aye. I did. But he’s gone now.” I didn’t even have time to process that bit of information before she rushed on. “Anyhow, I was sparring with John when Donovan stepped in to help. He was correcting my form, standing behind me, guiding my movements. I didn’t think anything of it, and I don’t think Donovan did either, but I caught Vivian’s eye and I’d never seen such hate. It chilled me to the bone. Nothing was the same after that.”
“What do you mean nothing was the same? What happened?” I needed more than just vagueness. I had to be prepared for this woman and whatever was wrong with the Irish pack.
“It was just little things at first. Things that made me think I was losing my mind. My toothbrush would end up in my dresser. Or the book I was reading would go missing. Then, I found another woman’s pants in Theron’s room. We had it out, but he swore up and down that he hadn’t been with anyone else. Our ceremony was a week away, and I was so bloody upset. I stormed off.” She brushed away the tear rolling down her cheek. “It was the last time I saw him. Next thing I knew, my mother was comin’ round to tell me he’d jumped off a cliff.” She shook her head. “But it was madness. Made no sense. I was angry, sure. But a part of me knew—knew—he hadn’t been unfaithful. If I’d had more time, I’d have seen it. The pants didn’t have a scent on them. They were new. Not some leftovers from a forbidden tryst. We would’ve made up. But it was already too late.”
“He jumped off a cliff?” That sounded ridiculous. It was one fight and didn’t sound like it was something he’d kill himself over.
She took a shaky breath. “Heartbroken wolf jumps to death.” She slammed her hand on the desk. “It’s a terrible cliché, and not one Theron would’ve fallen prey to. I didn’t believe it. Not for a second.” Her words were fierce, backed with years of pent up anger. “Vivian was the one who found him. She said she saw it happen, and everyone took her word. But I didn’t trust her for one bloody second. And I was right not to. I saw her leaving Donovan’s room in the matching bra to the pants I found in Theron’s bloody room. She was mocking me. She wanted me to know she’d done it.”
Ciara’s story was too crazy to believe. If it were true, then I felt horrible for her. She’d been tormented by a cruel woman. But I had more questions. Something wasn’t adding up for me. “Why would Vivian kill him? And why would she want you to know?” It didn’t make any sense.
“Because she’s mad as a box of frogs. And my best guess for why she killed him? Who am I to know? Maybe she was trying to get back at me for taking a crack onto Donovan? But I wasn’t trying to steal him. I had my own mate. At most, I’ve had a few conversations with Donovan, and he helped correct my form once.” She growled in frustration. Her eyes flashed bright and her nails lengthened, digging into her wooden desk.
Holy shit. Ciara was angry. It was the first time I’d ever seen her wolf slip out, and I’d been kind of a troublemaker growing up. She’d never once lost control. She closed her eyes as she struggled for dominance with her wolf.
I stayed quiet as her nails slowly shortened, and when she finally opened her eyes again, they were a plain brown.
“That’s why I’m telling you this.” Ciara’s words were calm and careful. “For years Vivian has gone around telling people she’s Donovan’s mate, and he hasn’t said a word against it. You’re stepping into a mess.”
A pang of betrayal hit deep. Why wouldn’t Donovan stop her from spreading that around? “Has he promised her anything?” Even as I asked the question, I knew he couldn’t have. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been open to bonding with me. The pairing with her would’ve already started, and that hadn’t happened because he and I had a bond. A Were could only have one romantic bond.
“He must’ve or else he would’ve said something. No one claims to be mated unless it’s true.”
I started pacing back and forth in the small room, trying to think. There was no way Donovan would knowingly let this chick go around calling herself his mate. But if Ciara was telling the truth—and she had no reason to lie to me—then what was going on? It was too absurd. “If she killed your mate just because she saw Donovan helping you…” I spun to her. “I’m his true mate. Not her. How is she going to deal with that?”
“She’s not. That’s why I’m desperately worried for you. You cannot join that pack.”
“There’s no way around it. He’s the other half of my soul. Unless he leaves his pack, which is never going to happen.” I sat in the armchair again, resting my elbows on my knees. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know. But it’s not just Theron she’s killed…”
Wait. What? “What do you mean it’s not just Theron?”
“I don’t have any evidence.” Ciara laughed harshly. “Vivian made sure of that well enough. When my father was murdered, I was devastated, but I didn’t imagine her scent all over my parents’ rooms. It was there. She had an excuse at the ready, but it was bloody convenient.”
Oh God. Her dad?
“When my younger brother was found in pieces… I was sickened. Wracked with grief. I couldn’t even begin… But she was murdering my family, and no one did a fecking thing. Not a damned thing.” Her voice shook as she spoke. Tears of anger and sadness rolled down her face. “When I spoke to Donovan, he dismissed me. Every friend I turned to denied the truth until it was me against her. I was galvanized to keep up what I was doing. I had to make the pack see that Vivian was mad, but she flipped everything I said and made them think I was mad. The harder I tried, the worse off I seemed. And of course, they thought I’d lost my mind. I was making myself crazy trying to find proof of her wrongdoing and ranting at anyone who would listen.” Ciara took a second to catch her breath. “There are some who know of her actions. Who see through her. But they’re not enough. Especially not when Donovan backs her time and again.”
I couldn’t believe that Donovan wouldn’t see through Vivian. Especially if everything that Ciara said was true, and I didn’t doubt her. She wasn’t lying. I’d have been able to smell that on her. There had to be something else at play here. I just didn’t know what, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what she was saying. At least not yet.
I grabbed the tissue box on her desk and held it out to her. “How’d you end up here?”
“I was cut to the onions, you know?” She said as she wiped her face. I had no idea what that bit of Irish slang meant, but I nodded. “I still had my mother and sister, but I didn’t think Vivian would dare touch a female. It’s just not done. And I couldn’t let her get away with her machinations. But when my sister disappeared—” Ciara took a shaky breath. “She was found tortured. Raped. Beaten. And I nearly died myself. I’d never hear her laugh again. Never see her sweet smile. And it was my fault. If only I’d let it go.”
“They didn’t…” No one would do that to a female. Not in our community.
“It wasn’t Weres who got her.”
“Who could kill a female Were?” We were strong. No human could get the upper hand.
“Who do you think?”
Another supernatural. But any pack would start a war over a missing female. “Did they ever find the attacker?”
“That’s a question for your mate. By the end of it all, I was declared a rogue female. Not allowed to leave the pack, but not welcome at any pack gatherings. No one would speak to me about anything of substance. When I had nothing left, I ran away. My mother’s still in Ireland. I tried to convince her to come with me, but she refused. So, I left on my own. Came to America. Your father found me staying in a horrible motel. He listened to my story and took me in, but you’ve been my salvation. As a little girl, you’d pull on my skirts and cry when your mum upset you. I’d dry your tears and we’d bake cookies.” She grabbed my hand with both of hers. “I cannot let the same thing happen to you. I wouldn’t survive it.”
I couldn’t believe everything that she’d been through. That I was so clueless about it. She said that I’d been her salvation, but if I’d known, maybe I could’ve done something. I didn’t know what, but the thought of losing a mate was horrific. She’d survived against all the odds, and my respect for her grew tenfold. I certainly wasn’t that strong. If something happened to Donovan, I didn’t know what I’d do.
Shit. What was I walking into?
Cosette was right. The Irish pack was a mess, and even if only one small part of Ciara’s story was true, Donovan wasn’t just too busy to do his duties as an Alpha, he was completely negligent. How did he not know what was going on in his own pack?
The last thing I wanted to do was start a battle with a mad she-wolf. Because when Weres went bad, they didn’t do it by half measures. Mad wolves lost all sense of reality and succumbed to their baser wolf emotions. They were what humans called psychopaths. They didn’t have a conscience and didn’t know right from wrong. They only knew what they wanted, and they wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—stand in their way.
That was why places like St. Ailbe’s existed. Weres who might go mad could be singled out early, retrained, and shown how to keep the madness at bay. If that didn’t work, then they had to die. There’d be a tribunal, and the person making the accusation had to have three examples—solid proof only, no hearsay or rumors—of their madness. Then, once everyone said their piece, including the wolf in question, the pack voted on whether or not the Were had gone mad. Once that happened, the Seven would take care of it. It usually took more than one Alpha to kill a mad wolf.
Maybe I could stand up against Vivian if she wasn’t mad and didn’t have the support of the pack, but if she was mad… I didn’t have a hope of winning against her, even if I was more alpha. She’d be too strong. Not until Donovan and I had our ceremony, and he wasn’t going to schedule that until after I met his pack. That gave Vivian plenty of time to poison them against me.
I rested my elbows on my knees and cradled my head in my hands as everything sank in. “What am I going to do?” Because any way I sliced it, I was screwed.
“I don’t have any advice to give. I’m sorry. If I’d thought of a way to prove Vivian’s madness and give her the end she deserves, I’d have done so already. All I can be is a cautionary tale and hope you delay going to Ireland for as long as possible.”
Being Donovan’s mate was going to be trouble. If I’d known what I was getting into—
No. That wasn’t right. Even knowing what Ciara had told me, I wouldn’t give him up. If Vivian wanted a fight, then she’d get a fight. But I needed an explanation from him. I had to hear his side.
You okay? Donovan must’ve felt my worry.
We need to talk.
Are we okay?
Ciara told me some concerning things.
Ah. I wondered when we’d have a chat about this.
That took me by surprise. A little warning would’ve been nice.
I’ll be waiting for you in your rooms.
Then it was true. Not that I doubted what Ciara just told me, but I’d been holding onto a tendril of hope that there was some sort of misunderstanding.
I felt him switch his focus and took a breath. When I glanced up, Ciara’s lips were pressed so tight they were turning white.
“I’ll be okay.”
“You have to be. You’re the closest I’ll ever have to a daughter. If something were to happen to you…”
“Love you, too.”
“Then you best take care of yourself.” Ciara got up, brushing her skirts straight. “If there’s anyone who would be helpful—who you could trust—look up Saoirse. I’m not sure if she’s still with the pack, but she might be.” She gave me a satisfied nod as if to say she’d said her piece and was moving on. “I’ll see that some food makes its way to your room.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t the least bit hungry after hearing her tale. Instead, I let Ciara hurry off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
My trek back through the estate was slow. I knew I had to talk with Donovan, but I wasn’t sure where to start so I took my time, meandering my way back to my room. The whole time I walked, I tried to process everything that Ciara had been through. The story blew my mind. It was a huge feat that she’d survived everything Vivian had done to her. I’d always known Ciara was strong, I just hadn’t realized how brave she was.
And I couldn’t ignore the fact that Ciara had given me a second warning about the Irish pack in as many days. It felt as if fate was knocking, and I had no choice but to open the door. Avoiding any trips across the ocean was the best option for now. There was no rush to complete our bond. Donovan had said that over and over again. For the first time, I wondered why he was so adamant that we wait.
Did he know that there was a mad wolf in his pack? And if so, what else was he keeping from me? Because that was kind of a big deal. If this relationship was going to work, I needed full and complete honesty.
As I made my way toward my room, I swore that I’d get to the bottom of this. If not for myself, for Ciara. She was a kind woman who’d put up with all of my endless crap with a grace I could only hope to emulate. Eventually, I’d be joining the Irish pack, and when that happened, I was going to be ready. Mad wolves and all.