Alec—she loved to laugh.
Tynan had a soft spot for babies and had already nabbed Artair. Donal watched him with eyes and healer senses. Being back in the Gods’ domain had restored Tynan’s health, and the deeply carved lines had almost disappeared from his face.
Daonain didn’t do well in human cities. Wolves didn’t do well alone.
And brothers were meant to be together. The return of his littermate was like receiving rain after a long ugly drought.
Donal touched Sorcha’s fuzzy hair. Like Vicki, he’d bring out his claws if anything or anyone tried to separate him from his family.
His mood lightened as Shay coaxed Toren away from Margery.
When Breanne saw her mate cuddling the tiny boy, her face turned soft.
Donal eyed her with professional interest. Lifemating upped the odds of a pregnancy, and Breanne would make a fine mother.
Now unencumbered, Margery pushed her hair out of her face and gave Bree an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Bree. I didn’t intend to fall asleep.”
“You needed the rest.” Bree pushed the platter of cookies toward her. “Here, sugar-up before Tynan takes you on your run.”
Margery’s hand stopped halfway to the plate. “Tynan?”
“Yes, he’s your mentor.” Shay reached over Bree’s shoulder to snag himself a couple of cookies.
“No,” Margery snapped. “Absolutely not.”
Donal frowned. Why in the Hunter’s forest would the female not want his littermate? There could be no better wolf, no better mentor for her. For anyone.
Curious, he leaned forward. “What do you have against Tynan?”
Margery ignored the healer. Why should she speak to someone who openly disliked her? Even if he was God-called. Even if he made her hormones pick up each time she saw him.
He could still go take a long leap into an icy pond.
Instead, she told Shay, “Pick a different mentor. Please.”
“’Fraid not. Tynan is well experienced.” The alpha’s gaze held more amusement than sympathy. “Try not to kill him. The Cosantir frowns on that sort of behavior.”
Her anger and fear rose until her hands were starting to shake…and the alpha was making jokes?
When she turned to Tynan, she couldn’t see anything except his uniform shirt. His badge.
She tried to talk reason to the cold terror flooding her veins. The male had been nice. Polite. He’d rescued her from Roger. He wasn’t a Scythe.
Maybe he’d protest and tell the alpha that it was impossible to teach a cripple? That’s what her mentor in Rainier had done.
One more try. She forced a smile. “Tynan, I’m sure I’ll be fine with a less experienced mentor. I know you’re busy and—”
“Not that busy.” He brushed his fingertips over Artair’s round cheek. How could such big hands be so gentle? His clear blue gaze turned to her. “Training is something I enjoy, whether it’s inexperienced police officers or newly shifted cubs. And I haven’t had the joy of teaching cubs in a long time.”
“I’m not a cub,” she huffed.
“No, you’re not,” he murmured. The masculine appreciation in his eyes made her blink.
After handing Artair to Vicki, he turned back to Margery. “Let’s be off, lass. I’ll show you the portal here at the lodge. Donal, if you’d take our clothing to the Wild Hunt when you leave, I’ll show her that portal on our return. Take her bike, too.”
Donal hissed under his breath. “Sssst, do I look like a dwarf to be hauling your loads around?”
“Aye, now, and you have the right of it.” Tynan tilted his head. “I never noticed the resemblance before. Perhaps it’s a beard you should grow.”
The healer scowled…yet his lips quirked up. “Go on then. I’ll be here eating cookies while you’re out getting your fur soaked.”
“Then, my dear brother, don’t be whining to me when your arse grows fat.” As everyone burst into laughter, Tynan motioned for Margery to rise.
Damn, there was no way out. An alpha’s orders had to be obeyed.
As she rose to her feet, anger rose inside her as well. Toward the obstinate alpha.
Toward herself because her ankle was so tired she couldn’t conceal the hitch in her gait.
Toward stubborn mentors who wore a uniform—and made jokes that forced her to remember he wasn’t a Scythe guard.
Tynan led the way to the back of the lodge, turned left down a short hallway, past a laundry room, and finally to a small room at the end. “This is where you’ll strip, trawsfur, and take to the forest during pack runs.”
“Oh, joy. Pack runs,” she said under her breath. In the far corner, she started to remove her clothing.
He chuckled. “Yes, little wolf, pack runs.”
Oh Gods, how