night?”
“You’re as snoopy as Donal. Tell you what. If I share my past”—reaching around the cub, she pointed at Tynan—“then you have to share about living in the city. Balance.” Balance was another of the Daonain customs she’d re-learned during her time in the Elder Village.
She really did like the tradition.
“What about Donal?” Tynan adjusted her aim so she pointed at his brother instead. “No balance for him?”
She snorted. “Like he doesn’t share everything already?”
Donal gave her an insulted look—which she knew was feigned. He had more self-confidence than anyone she’d ever met.
“Balance, hmm?” Tynan eyed her. “Aye. I’m in.”
“Okay, then.” But…was it right to push Tynan to talk about something that must have been horrendous? How could anyone live there—for a decade—after knowing the freedom of the forests?
“Meggie?”
A quick look showed Tynan didn’t look upset or stressed…and he expected her to talk first, it seemed.
“Okay, fine.” She blew out a breath, disturbing the cubling who snuffled a little grouchy sound. “My grandmama would sit with the Mother every night, out on the back porch where the moonlight could find her. After I was, oh, maybe around eight or so, I joined her.”
Donal’s eyebrows rose. “She sat with the Goddess?”
“It’s a tradition handed down by the females in our line. Mama joined us sometimes.” Margery shook her head. “As a Scythe prisoner, I was so angry and scared, but when I sat with the Mother, in her moonlight, even the ugliest emotions drained away. Since my cell window was tiny, I would get out of bed to catch when she shone through the window.”
“And now?” Tynan asked.
“Now, when the moon lights the window, I feel her presence, like she’s calling me to sit with her. So I get up.”
“And fill yourself with her glow,” Donal said softly. “No wonder children flock to you.”
Margery looked down at the cub in her lap, kissed the silky hair, and jerked her chin at Tynan. “Your turn, Mentor. How did you manage to survive all those years surrounded by buildings and concrete and steel? With only humans? Donal said you didn’t visit him hardly at all.”
Tynan ran his hand through his hair in the way he did when he was herding his thoughts. “The lack of visits was… Well, if I somehow revealed the existence of shifters, I couldn’t chance letting them track me here.”
Margery flinched at the jab of pain. One Dogwood shifter had been careless, and her village had died.
She took Tynan’s hand. “The Elders said a Daonain can’t live long without shifting. It was partly why the female captives were dying. How did you…?”
“I trawsfurred often enough. On my days off, I visited the nearest forests or crossed the Sound to the Olympic Peninsula. I got a reputation for being a backpacker.” He smiled. “There were a couple of forested parks within Seattle that I’d run in after closing time.”
“Was it enough?” she asked.
“No. Not really.” He put his arm over her shoulder as if needing the closeness. “It’s why after I came here, I spent my first two months mostly in the forest. Donal wasn’t happy.”
“I worried you might not come back one day.” Tone grim, Donal looked away.
“I’m sorry, mo deartháir.” Tynan’s eyes filled with remorse. “I should have explained.”
It wasn’t like Tynan to hurt someone. But knowing how hard some things were to talk about, she slipped her hand into his.
Donal huffed. “Sometimes, deputy, it feels as if you’ve jailed-up your own words.”
The silence stretched between the brothers…and Margery could do nothing but wait.
“City law enforcement requires tight control over emotions.” Tynan shook his head. “It’s worse for a wolf with only humans around. Although the police are a type of a pack, I couldn’t let my guard down. It’s too easy to say something suspicious. I could never speak without thinking. And it was safer if I never shared anything personal.”
After a long moment, Donal nodded at his brother. Accepting the explanation. The effort.
Shifting the child on her lap, Margery leaned into Tynan’s side. Giving him the warmth of pack. “Maybe it’s time to unlearn those habits,” she told him firmly.
Laughter lit his blue eyes. “Bossy little wolf. I will if you will.”
Oh, now that’s just mean.
Chapter Nineteen
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - dark of the moon
The following Saturday, Tynan walked through the open door into Donal’s clinic room. His littermate and Meggie were washing the blood off the big table in the center of the room. “Looks like a war zone in here.”
“Kevin Murphy.” Donal hissed