War of Hearts (True Immortality) - S Young Page 0,124

was going to lose Conall. It wasn’t a worry. It was a knowing. She knew deep in her soul that her grip on Conall was tenuous. He was slipping through her fingers.

Her mate grew rigid at her back. “Thea?” He pressed down on her shoulder, forcing her to turn and open her eyes.

Concern marred his brow. “I can smell your fear.”

Damn him and his wolf senses.

“It’s just everything,” she whispered, trying to assure. “It’s been a long few days.”

His expression was determined. “You have nothing to fear from my pack or from Ashforth. You know I willnae let anything happen to you.”

Thea reached up to smooth her fingers across his bristly cheek. “And you know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He grasped her hand as if he understood more than she was saying. “Thea?”

“Get some sleep.” She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Like you said, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

How she’d slept through Conall waking and showering, Thea didn’t know, but she had. She’d rolled over in bed to an empty place where her mate should have been and found a note scrawled in his handwriting.

I didn’t want to wake you. I’m at the Coach House but I’ll be back soon. There’s food in the kitchen. Eat. Rest. Then we take this fight to Ashforth.

Conall

The thought of facing Jasper Ashforth sort of killed Thea’s appetite but she got up and used Conall’s impressive shower room with its two rainfall showerheads. She realized that everything in his house was a little oversized to accommodate her mate.

Downstairs she puttered around in the modern kitchen with its matte-gray cupboard doors and glossy white-tiled walls and floor, and ended up forcing herself to eat a banana, yogurt, and some granola. It was raining so she couldn’t dine on the deck, but she could sit at the kitchen island gazing out at the water bouncing off the loch. The gray clouds had turned the loch gray and the greenish-brown mountains looked darker, more formidable.

Even then the place was stunning.

An hour passed and Conall still hadn’t returned. Thea pored over his book collection, discovering he was a man of varied tastes. There were classics by Charles Dickens and Jonathan Swift, mainstream thrillers, cult classics, and quite a bit of sci-fi.

No surprise there, she’d thought, amused.

Thea flicked through his TV to see his recordings filled mostly with sports, history channel stuff, and comedy.

Good to know.

Realizing it had stopped raining, Thea ducked outside, hoping the fresh air would temper her impatience. If Conall didn’t return soon, she would run to the Coach House to see what was happening. He was not leaving her out of the battle plans.

Thea didn’t know how long she stood on the rocky beach, staring out at the water, listening to the gentle, relaxing lap of the loch against the shore. She talked herself out of thinking too hard about what awaited her and Conall beyond their fight with Ashforth.

So lost in trying not to think, she took a moment to hear the rocks move behind her. She whirled, alert, and relaxed only marginally when she found herself face-to-face with a familiar wolf.

Thea frowned. Had something happened to Conall?

“What—”

She felt the prickle of warning on her neck.

But it was too late.

The warning came too late.

The wolf had already closed the distance between them and plunged the needle into her neck.

Fire burned through her veins and Thea crumpled, in too much agony to think of anything beyond hoping for the darkness to claim her.

Callie stared across the dining table at James, her worry and impatience obvious. He felt it too. She could tell.

The great hall of Castle Cara was small, but they were in a medieval castle. Proportions were different back then. This size of room would have been more than adequate. There was a large reconstructed gothic window with wrought iron tracery and stained glass built into its original two-meter recess, highlighting the thickness of the castle walls. It allowed in only marginal light, so the room was lit artificially. Electricity had been installed years ago, and candle bulbs illuminated the great hall perched upon two large wrought iron chandeliers above the table.

Paintings of previous owners and beautifully woven tapestries covered the brick walls. Rugs were placed carefully around the hall to break up the uneven wooden flooring.

At one end of the room the large fireplace had been reinstated, and it crackled to life, the smell of burning logs filling the hall. Callie usually enjoyed the smell