Healing of the Wolf Page 23

  If Wells wanted him to fight, he’d have to go through her first.

  “You always did.” Oliver’s smile slowly changed until it was almost as carefree as it had been when they were young. “I’ve looked forward to being back with you since the day they parted us.”

  Maybe she couldn’t imagine what the shifter-soldiers’ lives had been like or how horrible it would have been for a small unaggressive werebear like Oliver, but he was here now.

  He’d have the time—and all her help—to finish healing.

  A constant stream of wounded shifters kept Donal moving most of the day. By the Gods, full moons were a pain in the tail. But this was the last injured male today…he hoped. He set his hand over the deep abrasions on Devin’s forearm. As his power flowed, he melded the flesh together and then the layers of skin.

  When Donal straightened, the middle-aged male smiled. “Not even a scar. Thank you, healer.”

  “You’re welcome.” Donal rolled his aching shoulders. “I’m surprised you’re here, though. Post-gathering, it’s usually single males in here.”

  Devin and his two littermates had a mate, Jody, and they all ran a cleaning service.

  “Ah, well, this wasn’t from a fight.” Devin rubbed his arm. “A pup got herself stuck in a tree out at the Wildwood Lodge, and I climbed up to get her. I was halfway down when she started panicking, and I didn’t have enough hands to hold her and reach the ground without collecting a few good scrapes.”

  Donal groaned. “More of that tree-highway stupidity? I was hoping they’d stopped.”

  He heard his brother laugh and turned to see Tynan in the doorway.

  “The cubs haven’t stopped. They’re just getting better at not falling.” Tynan walked in and bumped the older male’s arm in a greeting. “Good thing you were there, Devin. The cub’s dam says thank you, and Breanne sent you carrot cake as a reward for the rescue.”

  “Carrot cake?” Devin jumped to his feet. “I’m all over that. None of us can make a dessert even a gnome would eat.”

  “In the kitchen,” Tynan said.

  “Thanks, Beta.” Devin made a beeline out of the clinic to the kitchen.

  “I deserve carrot cake, too,” Donal grumbled. By the Gods, he was hungry.

  Tynan laughed. “That’s what I told Breanne you’d say. She sent enough for us—and for Meggie and her littermate, who we heard about.”

  “You’re a very good brother.” Donal washed his hands and headed straight for the kitchen.

  Devin had already left.

  Donal took a piece of the cake and bit in. Sweet perfection. “If it was anyone other than Margery, there would be no sharing.”

  “Knowing you, we’d better take her cake over now and get the temptation out of the house.” Tynan stretched. “Maybe she and her brother would like to go for a run. I’ve got a craving to get out of the human skin.”

  Donal scowled. “You had to say that, didn’t you?” Now his body itched with the need to be in fur, to leap and run and climb. He didn’t get out nearly often enough and almost never with Tynan these days.

  He picked up the second plate. “Let’s go.”

  Next door, Margery answered their knock.

  “Well…hi.” Her lips curved up, a little shy and a lot sweet.

  Donal smiled because her eyes brightened when she saw them. Not with cunning or ambition the way he often saw in the females who wanted a God-called male. No, Margery was simply pleased to see him and Tynan. As the younger shifters would say, the pretty wolf liked them.

  By the Gods, the glow of the Mother simply radiated from her. How had he missed seeing that before?

  Instead of purring, he handed her the plate.

  “Carrot cake?” she asked.

  “It’s from Breanne as a welcome for your brother from the alphas of our pack,” Tynan clarified.

  “Cake?” Oliver joined them at the door. “Awesome. But I’m not a wolf.”

  Donal eyed the male, taking the time he hadn’t earlier to look him over.

  Oliver’s gait was more lumbering than prowling. His bones were big, but less bulky than a grizzly. He stood next to Margery, but with a few inches between them, not touching the way a wolf or cat would.

  “You’re a black bear?” Donal guessed.

  “Uh-huh.”

  And hungry in the way young males always were.

  “I’m Tynan, Donal’s littermate.” Tynan smiled. “Our alpha female, Breanne, likes to feed people, especially her pack and their families. Enjoy.”

  “Tell her thank you if you see her before I do,” Margery told Tynan and handed the plate to her brother with an admonishment: “Leave me at least a quarter, greedy guts.”

  “Been a long time since I heard you say that.” Oliver’s voice came out husky.

  “Yeah.” Sadness filled Margery’s expression, then slipped away. She gave Tynan a puzzled look. “I know Cold Creek has predators, but does it take two of you to ferry cake to next door?”

  Tynan’s laugh was as open and hearty as it had been before he’d buried himself in a human city. If the sweet banfasa could bring back that side of his brother, Donal would never let her escape.

  “Actually,” Tynan said, “we’re going for a twilight run. Would you and your brother like to come?”

  “Oh, yes.” Margery bounced once on her toes. “I would. Oliver?”

  Bears had excellent hearing, and he called from the kitchen. “I just spent weeks in fur. I’d rather find a book and lay on your big couch. You go have fun with the neighbors.”

  Neighbors? Donal’s mouth twitched. He exchanged a glance with his littermate. They intended to be much more than simply neighbors.

  Tynan led his tiny pack—although his cat littermate would be insulted by the term. In Meggie’s shed, they stripped and trawsfurred, then slipped out the wolf-sized door in the back.

  The last of the sunlight filtered through the trees along the gurgling creek, and the soft grasses were cool and damp against his paws. He paused to lap clear cold water before jumping the narrow stream.

  Trotting up the trail to the mountains, he picked up scents of other shifters, deer, and a wolverine. Behind him came the light patter of Meggie’s paws and occasionally the sound of Donal in the brush.

  If Donal wanted, he could be entirely silent. And deadly, too. There were reasons wolves needed a pack to take on a panther.

  When young, Tynan had thought it unfair his littermate was more dangerous. But now, Tynan wouldn’t trade. He loved having packmates for hunting, playing, and simply being together. Felines and bears missed out.

  Tynan checked over his shoulder.

  Meggie ran behind him, a beautiful, dainty wolf. Rather than common gray fur, her outer coat was a warm brown. Near the skin, the fur was almost black before lightening to milk chocolate at the tips.

  Tynan caught a glimpse of Donal, a lean, tawny-gray panther, disappearing into the underbrush for a quick mouse-appetizer. Or to catch one for Meggie in the shifter method of pleasing a female.

  With a soft woof, Tynan increased his speed, to get farther from town before they stopped. At one time, an inadvertent sighting would mean simply calling the Cosantir to erase the human’s memory. Now, humans whipped out cell phones faster than a horny man would his dick. These new times called for discretion.

  Once away from town, Tynan left the creekside trail and headed up a steeper slope. He kept an ear turned back, evaluating the sounds. Meggie had grown stronger. Her gait was even. Donal was behind her.

  Tynan opened his jaws in a smile. It was rare he and Donal found time to enjoy a trail together.

  The forest gave way to a pretty meadow with wildflowers blooming pink and white. Snatching up a hefty stick from a fallen tree, Tynan crouched with his butt in the air. Tail waving. I got a stick, want to play?

  Stopping, Meggie stared at him as if she had no idea what to do. Then her instincts took over, and with a high yip, she lunged at the stick.

  The game was on.<
br />
  Tynan tore across the meadow, staying barely out of her reach, taunting her with high-paw prancing to show her just who owned the toy.

  She was quicker than he’d expected, balancing the weakness of her leg with unexpected bursts of speed. Twice he evaded her, and the third time, she lunged…just as Donal leaped out of the brush. The cat batted the stick out of Tynan’s jaws and skittered away.

  Pouncing, Meggie darted off with his stick in her jaws.

  Tynan gave chase, and damned if his sneaky littermate wasn’t putting his paw on the female side of the scales. It was difficult to catch Meggie when two hundred pounds of feline kept jumping in the way.

  When Tynan managed a successful feint and grabbed his stick back, he noticed her limp.

  Time for a break.

  He set the stick by a tiny trickling stream, trawsfurred, and dipped up water to scrub his drool-covered face.

  Laughing, Meggie did the same, and he was pleased to see she’d grown more comfortable with being naked around males. Mostly.

  She frowned. “Why couldn’t the magic that lets us trawsfur let our clothing shift with us?”

  Donal shifted to human. He settled on the meadow grass, propping himself up on his elbows. “Probably because our wild hunt ancestors were lusty fae and disinclined to have any barriers to getting it on.”

  At her wide-eyed look, Donal grinned, then tipped his head back to savor the last few rays of sunlight.

  Unable to resist, Tynan shifted to wolf and pounced on Donal’s stomach, yipping in gratification at the whoofed exhalation.

  The sound changed…to a panther’s snarl.

  Uh-oh.

  Tynan tore across the meadow.

  The panther was right on his tail, then knocked him sprawling. Rolling to his paws, Tynan charged the feline, and almost…almost shouldered him over. Up on hind legs, they grappled, fake biting, growling and hissing. Donal’s barely exposed claws were defeated by Tynan’s thick, not-fully-shed undercoat…although a few painful pinpricks got through.

  Meggie had jumped to her feet, obviously unsure if they were serious.

  Ah, she’d never gotten to play as a teenaged shifter, had she? Tynan broke away and did a speeding zoomie circle around his littermate, voicing taunting, puppylike yips.

  Donal chirruped a laugh, sprang, and the fight was joined again.

  He had time to see Meggie’s alarm change to a grin.

  Shifting, the little wolf danced forward and nipped Donal’s hind end.

  Hissing, Donal spun—and Tynan bit his ass. Yeah, this was what he’d been missing—a partner to help fight the feline.

  Back and forth, he and Meggie went, keeping the panther turning.

  The game ended when Tynan achieved the win—Donal’s tail.

  * * *

  “His face!” Margery was laughing so hard, her sides hurt. By the Mother, she could barely breathe, and if she giggled harder, she’d wet herself. She crossed her legs, almost fell, and giggled harder.

  Whoever said cats didn’t show emotions? When Tynan nipped Donal’s tail, the panther’s eyes had gone wide, then his ears went back, and his eyes slitted.

  But before the cat could do anything, Tynan shifted to human and dropped down beside Margery, laughing his ass off.

  Trawsfurring, Donal scowled, hands on hips. “Brawd, you’re going to pay for that one.”

  Oh, no. Was Donal really angry? Remembering Ailill Ridge when minor altercations turned into bloody fang-fests, Margery jumped to her feet.

  But Tynan was still snickering, obviously unworried.

  Donal was grinning as he sat down. He patted the grass between them. “Relax, sweetling. It’s a game.”

  Relieved, she did just that, the grass cold on her bare buttocks and legs.

  “You’ve never played shifter games, have you?” Tynan guessed. The breeze brought her his scent, so very masculine and tempting. When she didn’t answer, he cupped her cheek with his thumb under her chin. His blue eyes held hers. Patient. Determined.

  “No.” Her voice came out husky because his touch and scent brought back all the desire of the night. How his lips felt, his hands, the way he’d filled her.

  “Mmm.” Donal’s resonant voice held a cat’s purr as he picked up her hand, kissing her palm, then her wrist, sending goosebumps up her arm.

  And she knew he’d caught the fragrance of her desire.

  A smile flickered over Tynan’s lips before his thumb lifted her chin so he could take her mouth. His mouth was firm, his kiss so thorough that warmth rushed through her.

  A hand between her breasts pushed her backward, and an arm behind her shoulders eased her down onto the grass. “We wanted to do this last night, but I got called away,” Donal murmured. “Unfortunately, we’re too close to town here to do more than hands-on play.”

  “Hands-on is good, though,” Tynan agreed. His grin flashed. “So is tongue.”

  Donal’s mouth covered her breast—and Tynan moved down. His lips teased her other breast.

  So many sensations. A mouth on each breast. When both males began sucking, her back arched at the exquisite pleasure.

  Donal’s hand slid down between her legs, and she gasped as his fingers slid over her clit, teasing her right into need.

  Tynan lifted his head to study her expression for a second.

  “More.” She slid a hand behind his neck and pulled him back down. The low rumble of his laugh and Donal’s deep chuckle were as heady as they had been the night before.

  Donal’s tongue circled one nipple, then she felt Tynan’s teeth on the other with a gentle tugging, then sucking.

  The sound of approaching people broke into the quiet. Both males lifted their heads.

  “I was afraid of this. They’re coming up the trail,” Donal said. “Maybe a few minutes away.”

  Tynan paused. Sighed. “They’re probably shifters, but we can’t be sure.”

  And three naked people would cause comment.

  “Donal, head out to the left.” Tynan pointed. “Meggie and I will meet you on the trail farther down.”

  Margery rolled over and shifted. Even as Donal disappeared into the underbrush, she followed Tynan down an almost hidden deer trail.

  Just a couple of wolves running about. Nothing to see here. No indeed.

  She gave an annoyed growl. The hum of need still reverberated in her body. Everything inside her wanted to shift back and drag them into the bushes to finish what they’d started.

  As if to complete her frustration, it started to rain halfway home.

  Back at the garden shed, Donal shivered. Cat-scat, but the rain had been like ice. He gave a frustrated huff as he dragged his jeans up over his still-damp legs. “It’s been a while since I experienced what happens to an erection in a cold shower. Did the trick quite effectively.”

  Margery made a choking sound.

  Tynan grinned. “Apparently, she’s shy about mating jokes.”

  “About anything to do with mating, I’d say.” Taking advantage of the way she’d gotten stuck trying to pull her shirt over her head, he fondled her breasts. “You have the prettiest breasts, sweetling.”

  The shed let in little light, but he could smell the sudden bloom of interest.

  She huffed at him. “My littermate is here. You stop that.”

  “Ah, true enough.” Regretfully, Donal dropped his hands, already missing the feel of the soft flesh. After helping her adjust her shirt, he planted an apologetic kiss on her lips. “Forgive me.”

  She leaned forward and gave him a better kiss.

  “Hold still, a leannán,” Tynan tugged her jeans up and buttoned them. “There, all respectable for Oliver.”

  “Thank you.” She reached up and pulled Tynan down for a kiss, too.

  By the Gods, she was sweet.

  As they walked her to her house, Donal tried not to think how pleasant it would be to start a fire and enjoy Margery in front of it. Savoring her without the urgency of the full moon matings. Sharing h
er with Tynan.

  Although, in all reality, he’d been looking forward to simply spending time with her, mating or no mating.

  But her littermate had arrived. She would need to be with her brother tonight.

  A creak heralded the door opening and Oliver. “I expected you back sooner, sis. I heard the storm and was going to come and look for you.”

  “You were?” Margery looked stunned, then almost tearful.

  Donal stilled. How long had it been since anyone worried about this little wolflet that she’d be shocked when it happened?

  She was going to have to get used to the feeling. By Herne’s hooves and horns, she was.

  “Well, we’re all fine, if a bit wet.” Margery bumped her shoulder against Tynan’s, then Donal’s. “We were having fun.”

  Oliver tilted his head, his nostrils flaring. The scent of desire in the air couldn’t be missed. His brows drew together. “Fun, huh.” After a narrow-eyed stare at Tynan and Donal, he smiled at his sister. “I made supper for us.”

  Catching how the us meant for two and not four, Donal sighed.

  His littermate gave him a wry look, then tugged a strand of Margery’s wet hair. “Right. We’ll be off, then. Have a good meal, you two.”

  “Oh, but—” Margery turned an unhappy look at her brother.

  “It’s fine, sweetling. You and your littermate have catching up to do.” Donal ran a hand down her arm. As a cat, he loathed being left out, but Margery needed time with her brother. Family was important. “Go shower and warm up. Come over to the clinic tomorrow, and you can start doing follow-up visits.”

  Her smile was like sunlight streaking through rain clouds. “Perfect. I’ve got the breakfast shift at the diner, then I’ll see you.”

  “Goodnight, you two. C’mon, sis.” Her brother leaned forward and took his sister’s hand.

  Before Oliver could pull her away, Tynan, who normally was more diplomatic, cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, little wolf.”

  As they walked away, Donal rubbed his shoulder against Tynan’s in approval. Because they both knew where they were going with this, no matter what Oliver might think.