glare at Tynan. “It was a wolverine den.”
“The mother was so fecking mad, she chased us halfway down the mountain.” Tynan wrapped his arms around Meggie, bringing her slowly against his body until her breasts pressed against his chest. Tantalizing them both with the increasing heat. He kissed her, taking his time, before lifting his head. “We survived, though.”
“I’m very glad you lived.” Her tongue traced a path over his lower lip…and now he was totally hard. He hadn’t released her, and she could undoubtedly feel his erection against her soft pelvis.
Her eyes grew heavy-lidded. “Are you home early?”
By the Gods, he did love how she responded to him—to them both.
With an approving smile, Donal glanced toward the stairs and the big bedroom.
Tempting. But that wasn’t what he was here to talk about. “I’m home early because tonight is the dark of the moon. There might be a hellhound in the area, which means all the cahirs are patrolling tonight. Shay asked if we’d stay at the lodge with Breanne.”
“Ah, right. She hates being alone.” Donal looked at Meggie. “I don’t know if she’s mentioned it, but she’s had ugly run-ins with hellhounds.”
At the grim note in Donal’s voice, Meggie turned pale.
Tynan set a hand on her shoulder. “I told Shay I’d ask you two.”
Meggie blinked. “Ask Donal and me?”
“It’s not my littermate I’m after sleeping with, now is it?” Tynan kissed her again, slower this time. “The lodge has very big beds. In case you were wondering.”
She pushed him back, laughing. “You are even sneakier than the werecat.”
Donal joined them, leaning against Meggie from behind. “The cat thinks this is an excellent idea. We can keep Breanne from worrying too much, have ourselves some fun, and enjoy a big breakfast in the morning.”
Meggie bit her lip. “If you two were out trying to stop a hellhound, I’d be terrified. Poor Breanne. Yes, we should stay with her tonight.”
Tynan kissed her forehead. He’d known that would be her answer.
“It doesn’t seem right to leave Oliver here alone, though,” she said.
“Bring him along. It’ll do him good to be somewhere other than your house and the forest,” Donal said.
“It will.” Tynan exchanged a look with his littermate. Meggie’s brother hadn’t done anything since he’d arrived except read, eat, and visit the forest. Rather than improving, he seemed to be cycling downward.”
“I’ll ask him.” Meggie slipped out from between the two of them. “I have a couple of elderly shifters to see, then I’ll get packed.” She grabbed her bag and was gone before Tynan could say a word.
Despite the slight limp, her footsteps had a lovely bounce. “She’s happy.”
Donal nodded. “I’ve never met anyone who was more suited to be a banfasa. Me—I love the healing, the connection to the Mother, and the challenge. The people…perhaps not so much.”
“For her, it’s all about the people.” She had so much love to give. By the Gods, he was lost because he was hoping she had enough love to extend it to a couple of unworthy males.
The dark of the moon nights, or as Donal thought of them, hellhound nights, always left him knotted into a ball of tension.
Breanne wasn’t looking much better. At sundown, she’d cheerfully kissed her cahir mates as they set off to patrol the town. Then had grown increasingly apprehensive.
By the Gods, waiting was hard. Even now, the cahirs might be fighting against an almost invincible armored monster.
Breanne might lose her mates.
Donal would have to try to heal whatever bloody mess the hellhound left.
He didn’t always win.
There were nights he wondered if it would be easier to be a cahir than a healer.
Seeing how Breanne was stewing, Tynan had tactfully gotten everyone into the library room to put together a jigsaw puzzle. The female needed to stay busy.
With a sigh, Donal leaned back in his chair and looked at the other five around the Wildwood’s big library table. Margery sat between him and Tynan. Bree was next to Oliver. On Oliver’s other side was Silas, his shifter-soldier comrade from another territory who’d rented a room upstairs.
Earlier, Silas and Oliver had shared a bottle of whisky outside on the patio. As the bottle emptied, Oliver had grown more withdrawn, Silas the opposite.
The lodge was quiet. The log walls and beams settled with muted creaks from the increasing cold of the evening. With warmth wafting in from the crackling fire in the main room, the library was pleasant.
Even better was having others close, who also were worrying about the cahirs.
“Mom loved