wanted to live through anything as traumatic as the sound of her bones breaking. Crunching. His guts twisted, and when Meggie stiffened, he realized he was squeezing her hand.
He forced his grip to loosen and stroked over her forearm instead. Too late. He’d disturbed her, and her head rolled back and forth on the pillows. Her hands closed into fists.
Bloody hell, she was dropping into a nightmare again.
So many nightmares over the last day.
“Shhh, lass, everything is all right.”
If she would only wake up, everything would be fine. But, feck, she hadn’t even woken up during all the construction noise. He glanced behind him at the south wall where all the work had been done. He’d have to close the curtains before he left the room.
“You’re safe, sweetheart. I’m here. Nothing will hurt you.”
Except them. He’d let Donal hurt her. And Ben.
Gnome-nuts, why the feck did I agree to this?
“I love you, Meggie mine.”
Love was such a small word for all that he felt for her. How she’d changed his life—and Donal’s, as well. She’d come into his life like the spring sun after a bleak winter, warming his heart, bringing change and new life.
She made a whimpering sound that broke his heart.
“No, no, little wolf. You’re fine. You’re safe.” He opened her fingers and pressed her hand to his cheek, then kissed the palm.
The strain disappeared from her face, and her breathing slowed again. For the moment, he’d vanquished the nightmares that plagued her sleep.
With a sigh, he kissed her hand again. “It would be fine with me if you’d wake up soon, lass.”
Margery could hear a low Irish-accented baritone speaking of love and safety. Telling her she should wake up.
Wake up. But where was she? Pain and terror lingered in her memory. Was she in the Scythe compound?
So many images of fighting, blood, agony, and death were blurred together in one eternal nightmare. What had happened?
She froze. Don’t let them know you’re awake. Sense by sense, she tried to get a handle on where she was.
She lay on her side. In a bed. There was a pillow under her head, a sheet and blanket over her body.
Her eyelids lifted ever so slightly. Shadowy room. To one side, someone was pulling the curtains closed. The room darkened more.
Then he—a big male—walked out the door.
She listened and heard no rattle of gunfire, no screams, no shouting. From somewhere came soft noises and conversation. The voices were familiar.
Remarkably familiar.
Her brows drew together, and she opened her eyes completely. Sat up.
This was her bedroom. Her own room that was twice as big as her mates’ bedrooms on either side.
The curtains covering the south windows were closed, but the uncovered east window displayed the night sky. A light breeze brought the fragrance of roses from the bushes along the side of the house and an intriguing smell of freshly cut wood.
Another breath brought her the masculine scent of her mates from the linens.
The scent of home.
She was home, where she’d lived with Tynan and Donal since their lifemating over two months ago.
Okay, then.
Pulling in a breath, she tried to figure out what had happened. Why she felt so groggy.
She didn’t hurt like after the battle last Solstice. Her head was fine. No knife slices. Her ankle ached…but nothing new about that.
Although an aching ankle might have been what had caused all those nightmares—as well as the urgent need to shift during the horrific dreams.
But each time, someone—several someones—had squeezed her hand and told her no in variations of: “No, lass. Stay human. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She shook her head. Dreams were funny, weren’t they? During some of the worst ones, she’d heard her alpha talking, telling her she was safe. Telling her not to shift—and no pack member could refuse the order of the alpha.
And she’d heard Zeb, too. His harsh voice had been almost a croon as he told her to stay in human form…and that he’d slaughter any Scythe who appeared.
Donal. Of course, Donal had been in her dreams with his resonant voice, saying she was going to be fine, and he was there. To behave and stay human. That he loved her even if she was a stubborn wolflet.
And always, always, Tynan’s Irish-accented murmurs ran through her dreams. Reminding he was there. Not to shift because he’d keep her safe. He’d always keep her safe.
“Lass, you’re awake. Finally.” Tynan walked into her room. His strained expression was replaced by a smile. He wasn’t in uniform but wore a loose cotton