have is great.” Tynan patted his stomach. “I haven’t found anything you make that I don’t love.”
Tynan’s compliment put a bounce in her step.
“Very clever, wolf.” Donal punched his brother’s arm. “Don’t think your smooth-talking will get you extra cookies.”
At the sound of shouting from the library room, Tynan’s smug grin faded. “What in the Hunter’s forests…?”
That was the shifter-soldier’s shouting. “You come here to be all comfortable—and left the town with no one who knows scat about healing. My brother almost died, you lazy fucking bitch.”
“I’m sorry your brother was hurt.” Margery’s voice was calm—but Donal could hear the tremor of fear.
Rushing into the library after Tynan, Donal felt fury well up inside.
The big shifter-soldier loomed over Margery, one meaty hand on each shoulder, punctuating each word with a shake.
“Silas, you’re getting carried away.” Offering an ineffective protest, Oliver was just beginning to stand.
Growling, Tynan grabbed Silas and threw him across the room. He hit the wall hard and dropped to his knees.
Not enough. Not nearly enough. Donal slammed his fist into his palm and glanced at Tynan.
Tynan nodded, then pointed to himself.
No way the wolf would deal out all the punishment. Donal pointed one finger to himself, held up the second finger and pointed to Tynan. One punch each.
After a narrow-eyed stare, Tynan nodded.
As Silas regained his feet, Donal walked over and punched him in the gut so hard he folded in half.
Gasping, the boggart spat out, “What the fuck!”
“No decent shifter pushes females around. I know you shifter-soldiers missed out on some of our traditions, but this is one you should take to heart,” Donal told him.
Silas slowly straightened, his face purple. “You stinking—”
Tynan’s short jab to the ribs slammed Silas back into the wall. There he stayed. His breathing sounded like sobs.
Worried, Donal took a step forward.
“Nothing’s busted, healer.” Tynan grabbed Silas’s shirt front and yanked him forward. “The pain in your ribs will remind you to be polite to females. Now get your tail out of here.”
Hand on his side, Silas stomped out of the room. A second later, the lodge’s front door slammed hard enough to shake the pictures on the wall.
Instead of going upstairs to his room, the weasel-tempered asshole had gone outside…on a dark of the moon night.
Shaking his head at the idiocy, Donal turned to Margery. She was standing, spine straight, hands in fists. Tough little female, but so pale. This was the last thing she needed, more violence from males.
Scowling, Tynan turned to Oliver. “You let someone put their hands on your sister?”
“He was just upset—wasn’t hurting her.” Oliver flushed. “His littermate managed to survive the Scythe and then almost died because he busted his leg and there was no one—”
“That’s not Margery’s fault,” Donal snapped.
Oliver swallowed. His voice cracked as he said, “I know how it feels to lose my brother.”
The Scythe had killed Margery’s other littermate. Donal’s own heart ached at the thought.
“Wasn’t hurting her?” Tynan repeated Oliver’s words, then shoved the male in Donal’s direction. “Does it feel good when someone bigger pushes you around?”
“She spent years being beaten up by the Scythe. And you let another big man treat her like that?” Donal pushed Oliver away, hard. The male staggered.
How much had he had to drink?
“A brother gifted with a sister should do his utmost to protect her,” Tynan snapped, and the scorn in his expression made Oliver turn dark red.
Oliver pulled in a breath, scrubbed his hands over his face, then faced his sister. “They’re right. I’m sorry, sis.”
Without waiting for her response, he fled like a coyote caught stealing a cougar’s kill. His footsteps sounded, going up the stairs.
Donal shook his head, feeling soiled. “That male is—”
“Is my littermate.”
Margery’s fist in Donal’s gut sent a blast of pain through him.
Then she swung at Tynan who didn’t try to dodge and took the punch on his jaw. “You had no right to—”
“You didn’t run after your brother to comfort him,” Donal pointed out softly.
“And embarrass him further?” Her bottom lip quivered. “How could you? After all he’s lived through.”
Tynan frowned. “Lass, you lived through worse. He should have stood up for you. Protected you.”
She took a step back. “I… Oliver isn’t one to get into a fight. Orson and I always protected him.”
By the Gods, what a mess. Donal took a step toward her. “That was when you were cubs, sweetheart.”
Which might be part of the reason Oliver hadn’t jumped in. He didn’t see himself as a protector. It’d been Margery’s job—and how fucked up