Chapter Eight
My father and brothers showed up in my room not long after Donovan left. It took me the better part of an hour to assure them that I was leaving and that I’d be okay. Max threatened to go with us to Ireland, but I was going to be joining the Irish pack. Possibly sooner than I’d thought. I couldn’t have him or the others there stopping me from accepting challenges. It took Donovan pledging them that he’d look after me before they saw reason. It frustrated me that after everything, they still needed Donovan’s word. I could take care of myself.
It was just the two of us on Donovan’s plane. As we finally made our descent, I pressed my nose to the window, fogging it a little with each breath. I’d never been to Ireland before. Now I knew why my father had avoided the island, but that didn’t matter now. I pushed away all the anxious thoughts about what we’d face when we landed and let myself enjoy the view. It was too beautiful not to.
Ireland held so many varying shades of green. As we lowered toward the Dublin airport, I could make out each square patch of variegated green, even though it was gray and raining. I spotted little cottages in the countryside and wondered about the people who lived there.
Did Ireland have reality TV? Because I was so in for that. The stronghold better have cable. And good Wi-Fi.
The plane’s tires finally touched the ground, and I sat frozen as we slowed to a stop. I knew it was time to get out.
“You ready?” Donovan said.
I jerked in my seat. It was just the two of us on his beautiful plane, which had been nice. He’d slept most of the way, but I could never sleep on planes. Especially not this trip.
“Yeah.” I shook myself as I reached for my bright blue Longchamp bag, stuffing my book, phone, and earbuds inside.
“Best put on your overcoat now. It’s going to be quite cold.”
Living in Texas had thinned my blood. The last little while in Colorado—with the highs just above freezing—had been an adjustment, but now I was pretty used to the bitter temperatures. I shoved a brimmed knit hat on my head, buttoned up my coat, grabbed my scarf, and felt only partially warmer. “How do humans survive winters like this?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.” Donovan reached for my bag, but I shook my head. I liked to carry my own things. Plus, Vivian would be outside. It was probably better if my hands were occupied or might be tempted to start something I shouldn’t. “All right then. Let’s go.”
As I stepped onto the stairs, I spotted five men in all black waiting by a car.
Where was everyone else? The top-ranked wolves usually came to greet their Alpha when he arrived home. It differed for every pack, but no less than the first five were required to be there, plus a handful of Cazadores. For some, it was only ten, and for others, the crowd could fill a bus. It depended how close the top people were in terms of power level. The closer they were, the more disputes in rank there would be, so more people would show up to solidify their position in the pack.
But there should’ve been no less than ten. And where in the hell was Vivian? As much as I wanted to delay meeting her, she should’ve been here. She was Donovan’s second, at least for now. Even if I didn’t know what I knew, her absence would’ve been a huge red flag.
Maybe she was investigating the murder? But her absence was still a definite slight against Donovan.
The steps were slippery as we climbed down the airstair, and I was grateful for my Were balance. Eating it in front of the most powerful members of Donovan’s pack wasn’t the first impression I wanted to make. I gripped my bag a little tighter as I reached the tarmac.
I met each Were’s gaze for a moment before moving on. The first one met it and looked down so quickly that I gasped. He was actually welcoming me to the pack? Not exactly what I was expecting after everything I’d heard.
The next guy scowled at the first one before looking my way. He crossed his arms as he leaned back on the car. He looked away after a minute, but from his posture, he wasn’t happy about it.
The next two proved even more standoffish.
The little twinge of hope that the first guy had sparked died. Fine. This was what I’d expected, and I’d be happy to force submissions all day if that was what it took to be accepted around here. But each Cazador looked away in turn.
Then I got to the last Were. A redhead. He was the hardest of the bunch. Being Donovan’s true mate meant that I’d basically become his surrogate. Eventually, I’d be able to use his power almost as if it were my own, and pack position wouldn’t be an issue. I was the Alpha’s mate. Full stop. But we hadn’t had our ceremony yet, so I had to make this guy accept my future position. Staring him down went against all my instincts and training, but making my standing known from day one was essential.
I took in the man’s hair, a total knotted mess, and the bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept for at least two days. Poor guy. Losing the pack’s second had done a number on him, but exhausted or not, he wouldn’t look away. I respected that, but it wasn’t going to fly with me.
I dropped my bag from my shoulder down to my hand, ready to let it go and fight if I had to.
Donovan stepped beside me. Everyone’s attention went immediately to him.
“This is my mate, Meredith Molloney.” He paused to let that sink in.
The guy I’d been staring down flushed red, and I didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment. Something about his stance told me that it was more likely anger, but I didn’t want to be a total pessimist. He might have realized he should’ve given in.
“Ian Murry is my fourth.” He gestured to the redheaded guy. “He also has the pleasure of being my cousin.”
Ian laughed, and goose bumps ran up my arms. The sound was a total echo of Donovan, and as I studied Ian, I realized his eyes were the same, and so was the shape of his mouth. I’d been so focused on the power display that I hadn’t seen what was in front of me. Except for the hair, they could’ve been brothers. Watching them clasp forearms and greet each other in Irish was eerie.
Who knew there could be two Donovans?
I stood aside as Donovan greeted the rest of his pack. It was interesting seeing the change in Donovan’s posture. His being. The way he spoke grew a little colder and more authoritative. He stood a little taller, with his head held a bit higher. But it wasn’t just his outward appearance that changed. The difference came from within.
He held back his alpha energy all the time, so much so that even an alpha Were could overlook him. But when Donovan wanted to—when it suited his needs—power flowed out of him by the bucketful. Right now, it was pouring over us until I was nearly drowning. My skin grew tight as my wolf started to surface.
He wasn’t my Donovan anymore. He was Donovan Murry, One of the Council of Seven, Alpha of the Irish pack.
The guy who’d first accepted me approached Donovan next and gave him a big hug. They were friendly. “Glad to have you home,” he said.
“And you, Pat. Last time I was back you were off on holiday. It’s been too long.”
“Aye. We’ll have a pint and talk about your lass.”
Donovan glanced at me with a wink. “That sounds grand.”
The other three gave Donovan nods and handshakes, but they were about as welcoming of him as they were of me. Out of the five that had actually shown up, only two were on good terms with their Alpha.
Even in troubled packs, only a handful of Weres usually had issues with their Alpha. But judging from this group, it was more like three out of every five had a problem with Donovan. Meaning the majority of his pack. This was a total mess.
After greeting everyone, we moved toward the cars. Donovan, Ian, and I got in a small hatchback. The cars were smaller in Europe, so the other four Weres shoved into a second, slightly larger microscopic car.
“Where’s Vivian?” Donovan asked as soon as we were on the road.
I gritted my teeth as I waited for the answer. There had to be a good excuse—something extremely important to warrant her not being here—if this slight was to be forgiven.
Ian grunted. “She didn’t want to come. Said she had better things to do, although she’s probably doing nothing but staring at herself in the mirror. Typical narcissistic Vivian. Why you ever—” He cut off as his gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.
I gave him my best smile. This so wasn’t good. She should’ve been there. No excuses. If Donovan didn’t reprimand her for skipping out, he was going to look weak. He couldn’t afford that, even for a second. Especially not if what I’d just seen was indicative of how the entire pack felt about him.
“I’m not looking forward to dealing with that,” Donovan murmured.
“Saoirse is threatening to challenge her,” Ian said.
Sitting quietly wasn’t like me, but I was getting quite the education. Whoever this Saoirse was, I wanted to meet her. And I wondered if she was the same Saoirse who Ciara had mentioned. If she didn’t like Vivian, then I had a feeling we’d be fast friends.
“That wouldn’t turn out well. Best to tell your mate to calm it,” Donovan said.
“Calm it?” I mouthed. If anyone said that to me, I’d definitely do the exact opposite. Only a total moron would say that to their mate and expect to live. But, somehow, no matter how old the boy was, he never quite grew out of dumbassland.
“Aye. I’ve done so already. Bet you can guess how well that went over.”
Donovan laughed for the first time since we got on the plane. “I’d never actually think to tell Saoirse such a thing. I can’t see any markings on you, so the damage wasn’t permanent.”
“But gran’s dishes are no longer with us,” Ian said in a reverent tone.
Another laugh from Donovan. I was liking this Ian guy. At least he was able to cheer Donovan up. And this girl was my speed. Breaking dishes? Not bad at all.
“I can tell that the pack is in chaos from our bonds, but how has everyone been fairing lately?” Donovan asked.
“It’s been a rough go. Those bloody Americans—”
I cleared my throat. I was okay sitting back while they caught up, but I wasn’t going to let Ian bash me and my friends.
“Sorry.”
“We did what we had to.” I couldn’t apologize for what happened. Even if Ian was friendly toward me, I was new. If I started apologizing for my actions and defending myself, then it would set me up in a subordinate position. Until I had a solid place in the pack, I couldn’t let that happen.
Plus, as far as I knew, there wasn’t any way to turn back time. Not with bruja or fey magic, and definitely not with anything the packs had. What was done was done, and everyone was going to have to learn to live in the present. Apologizing for it now wouldn’t change a thing.
I caught Ian’s gaze in the review mirror before he glanced away. “That may be so, but you’ve managed to flip our world upside down. It’s a bit difficult since we didn’t have time to prepare.”
“But you knew it was going to happen soon,” Donovan said. “I’d been preparing the pack for years—”
“You know us. We think nothing’s going to change. Thought all that nonsense about coming out of hiding was just a bunch of talk.”
I snorted, and Donovan shot me a look.
I wasn’t making this any easier. “You might live out in the country, but not all packs do. If we hadn’t gotten caught on tape, someone else would’ve. And you can bet your ass they would’ve been doing something that made us look much worse than fighting a blood-hungry witch and her demon minions.”
“Aye. You’re probably right. It’s just hard to come to terms with. A lot has changed for us old wolves.”
“Hmm.” It was impossible to know how old Ian was from his appearance, but even since I’d been alive, the world had gotten closer to science fiction than most could’ve imagined.
Don’t let Ian get to you. He’s cranky about everything, but he’ll get over it, Donovan said through the bond.
He’s not the only one who’s going to be mad about the “bloody Americans.”
“You’re not wrong.” You sure you don’t want to go back home? It’s not too late. I can call the back-up pilot and have the plane readied.
No! Your mess is mine. I’m in. No backing out now.
Ian coughed, interrupting our conversation. “I’m sorry, but it seems like you’re talking through your bond?”
“Yes.”
“But that means—”
“Yes.”
“Feck. I’m going to have to call Killian and see if he’ll let me change my bet. This is going to get very interesting, very fast.”
“I imagine it will,” Donovan said. “And I’d advise not betting against my true mate.”
Ian started rambling in Irish, and I leaned my head against the window’s cool glass, staring out at the green countryside as we left Dublin. Something brushed against my knee. Donovan was reaching back for me. I grasped his hand.
Flashing lights caught my eyes as I looked toward a row of flats. “What’s going on there?”
Ian spared a quick glance where I pointed. “Ehm. That’s the garda. Or police to you Americans. They’ve been out in force the past few days. There was some heist at one of the museums. Humans are off their rockers about it.”
“What was taken?” Donovan asked.
Ian scoffed. “Not much to talk about. Celtic trinkets or some such things. A few pictures were in the paper, but nothing looked to be worth much. Just nostalgia mostly. I believe it’s the principle rather than the monetary worth bothering them. The humans are knocking door to door. Odd business.”
That did seem odd. Maybe their museum security wasn’t great, but didn’t they have any suspects to narrow down their search? “Looks like you Irish need to up your detective skills.”
“What on it? You gonna join the garda and help ‘em out?”
I laughed. “Why not? Sounds like fun.”
Ian and I went a few rounds, ending up laughing. After a while, the chatter died down, and my eyes grew heavy. The jet lag was catching up to me.
Go ahead. Sleep.
How long is the drive?
Over an hour.
Oh, yeah. A nap was definitely in order. Wake me up before we get there? I was going to need a clear head.
Of course. Dream of me, he said as I started to drift off.
Always. These days Donovan was a constant in my mind, even in sleep. I didn’t mind it one bit.