Chapter Four
Notalus
Answer the Call
Notalus slept fitfully in his four-poster bed despite his generous dinner and the raucous company of his son and the nobles of their house.
He dreamed of raging storms as he tossed and turned until he could no longer lie there.
It was quite early in the morning, and the house was still sound asleep as he sat on the side of the bed with his hands buried in his hair.
He was thinking about everything and nothing until a gust of wind strong enough to blow his balcony doors open pulled him out of his funk.
Notalus’ sheets and blankets flew off his bed onto the floor as he stood and rushed toward the open windows.
What is happen—
“Father.” Theodor pounded on his door before flooding inside his quarters with the palace guards. “I felt something on the wind. Did you feel it too?”
Notalus was still gazing out the window at the calm clouds above him… there was no storm, no threats. What was the panic he was suddenly feeling? Was it one of his brothers needing his help? No. Couldn’t be.
‘Notalus. Help me.’
Then Notalus heard his name cried on his wind, making him clutch the center of his chest, where he’d placed the mortal, Dustin Constus Hill, that had imprinted on his soul.
Notalus had attempted to stay away from the handsome man who resided in the earthly realm, knowing it would only lead to heartache, but Notalus couldn’t stop himself from visiting the shifter in his dreams. Love came fast for titans when their souls were touched.
“Father… what is it?”
Notalus felt the plea all the way to his core so deeply that it made dread swarm in the pit of his gut.
Dustin’s voice was so far away, but he could hear it—he recognized it and held on to it like his life depended on it.
The air surrounding him was saturated with fear and panic, causing unease to stir in his gut.
He didn’t want his son to see him frightened, but already Notalus was fearing he’d heard the cry too late.
With a quick wave of his hand, Notalus summoned enough wind to dress in his battle gear and clasp his robe around his shoulders.
“I can hear someone calling for you on your wind. It has to be an immortal, or else we couldn’t hear it. And sounds like it could be trouble. I’m coming with you.” Theodor mimicked his moves, preparing to dress within the blink of an eye, but Notalus stopped him.
He would never put his only heir in danger. “I have to answer this call alone, son. I need to return to Earth. Stay here with our people, comfort them if need be.”
“When will you return?” Theodor asked, but Notalus didn’t have the time to answer his son’s questions.
Notalus ran toward his balcony as his son grabbed his swords off the wall and tossed them toward him. He caught them mid-stride as he leapt over the brass railing, summoning as much air as he could and landing on his stallion Joldryn’s back.
“Find the one who whispers my name,” he commanded as his war companion took off into the dark blue morning clouds.
Notalus gripped Joldryn’s reins in one hand and one of his swords in the other as he exploded through the thick gray thunderclouds over the vast White Mountains of Maine.
He urged his steed to go faster and harder than he was used to in their calmer days.
Notalus stood in his saddle as Joldryn came through the tree line beneath a fierce windstorm that was battering the Volkov pack lands, but he didn’t stop to handle the storm until he found the voice that visited him in his dreams.
Notalus leapt from Joldryn’s back and landed with a powerful, ground-shaking thud.
He ran to where he saw a man lying on his back in the mud and knelt over him.
It was him… it was Dustin. Notalus gently touched his bruised cheek, brushing his fingers over the thick beard as he tried to rouse him.
Please be okay. Please don’t let me be too late.
“I am right here beside you.”
Dustin leaned into Notalus’ touch, and his eyelids flickered, but he still didn’t open his eyes. “No…talus,” he whispered instead like a reverent worship.
Notalus stared down at the gorgeous half man, half wolf that had captured his interest with only a look and the sound of his strong voice as he’d wooed him with talks of new harvest and loving the earth for all she provided.
Against his better judgment, Notalus had returned to the White Mountain in the Earth realm under the pretense of checking on their crops, but he’d needed to see Dustin again.
They’d had a moment when he’d given Notalus the tour of the extensive pack farmland while telling him all that he loved about autumn and why it was his favorite season.
Dustin had been praising Notalus, the lord of that season, and didn’t know it.
He’d simply talked about his life and duties for the pack the same way he would converse with any mortal man.
But Notalus was far from normal, and no one had ever made him feel as if he was.
It wasn’t until he’d used his abilities to repair Dustin’s land that he’d looked at him differently.
And what had been naturally developing between them was brought to a skidding halt when his mortal realized exactly who and what Notalus was.
He touched his palm to Dustin’s broad chest and whispered to the goddess Vanir for her healing power.
Seconds went by that felt like days before Notalus’ palm lit up with a soothing white light that radiated from his touch, and Dustin slowly blinked his eyes open until they held and locked onto his.
Notalus didn’t speak as he unclasped one of the medallions on his robe, swiped it from around his shoulders, and draped it over Dustin’s trembling body.
No rain, wind, or hail could touch him beneath its protection.
“The s-s-storm. Our food is…” Dustin stuttered, his warm, wheat-brown eyes wide and fixed on Notalus as if he couldn’t believe he was there.
Notalus stood and held his arms up in a wide arc, his skin vibrating underneath with power and energy.
He swung his arms around in slow, rhythmic circles, pulling in the wind and letting it build in his sternum.
Notalus closed his eyes and exhaled, commanding softly for the winds around them to “calm.”
All fell silent as the storm clouds parted like a curtain on Broadway and allowed the heavens’ light to break through the darkness. Now he could take care of the man who’d called on him so desperately. Notalus could sense the shifter was in bad shape.
He knelt and scooped Dustin into his arms—careful to keep the robe firmly in place—then tucked him as close to him as his chest armor would allow.
Dustin’s beast growled feverishly, and Notalus felt it so much inside that it vibrated his own chest, freezing him in place.
He needed to get the man in his arms to safety and then some medical aid.
Notalus stopped his leap when he saw several young men running toward him at full speed as he held an almost limp Dustin in his arms. They all slid to a stop, their eyes wild and full of surprise and fear as they yelled out Dustin’s name, not getting too close. Which best suited Notalus.
“What’s wrong with Dustin? Did he get hurt in the storm? Is he breathing?”
Multiple concerns were fired at Notalus at once, but he wasn’t used to being questioned, so he didn’t listen. He only needed to know one thing. “Where is his home?”
“Dustin’s cabin is all the way at the end of the property near the gourd fields on the side of the stables,” a young man added, his chest heaving as he inched closer to get a better look at Dustin.
“Send your healers straightaway,” Notalus ordered, expecting his commands to be obeyed regardless that he wasn’t in Tir an Fhomhair now.
“We will,” another young shifter reassured quickly, clutching an old-school two-way radio in his left hand. “I’ll call right now for a golf cart so you don’t have to carry him all the way to—”
Notalus didn’t say anything else as he leapt into the air, summoning and catching the wind beneath his feet so that they coasted smoothly across the property.
Notalus made sure to land softer than he normally did so that he didn’t jostle the delicate package in his arms. If Dustin wasn’t so hurt, Notalus would pause to enjoy the feeling of him tucked close to his heart, his breathing shallow and hot on his neck, but now wasn’t the moment for that.
But one thing was for sure: Notalus wasn’t leaving this time until he’d had his feel of the beautiful wolf and his suspicions were confirmed.
Notalus walked up to the door, unsure if it was locked or open. Regardless, he blew it open with one breath. He stepped inside Dustin’s cabin and placed him on the first flat surface he found. Dustin groaned the moment his back came into contact with the couch.
“Your healers are on the way, sweet wolf.” Notalus knelt on one knee and grasped Dustin’s damp palm and pulled it to his lips. “Stay calm.”
Dustin’s throat bulged before he grimaced in obvious pain. “Don’t leave, Notalus.”
“Hellhounds could not remove me from your side.” Notalus touched Dustin’s cheek, ignoring the mud all over him. “Rest. I will be right here.”