Chapter 11
Failinis watched the world from behind his human’s eyes.
The world smelled different. It looked brighter.
A part of him he hadn’t known was missing had come home, and he reveled in the drunk feeling it brought with it.
He stretched his paws and sniffed deeply, his senses flooding with the rich, wild scent of his Grá Croí
Do not wake him.
I will not wake our mate. I want to be closer.
He’s got his head on my stomach, Failinis. We can’t get much closer.
Reaper…
Shh.
No, something is happening. Look.
His gaze was locked on Reaper, and he could feel his human brother’s gaze on him, too. There was something about how his chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths that was fascinating.
There… did you see it?
There was movement, he’d seen it. When it came again, it was barely perceptible, the tiniest of ripples in the air, or a shift in the shadows. His hackles rose, his muscles coiled.
Protect our mate.
The old gods and the Fates had given the human warrior to them. He would protect him at all costs. Failinis drew back his lips and snarled to his human brother.
Let me out.
Cian shook his head,
Shh, brother. It’s not a threat. It’s a gift.
The air kept shimmering, and the wind picked up, swirling leaves and twigs around them in a vortex. Failinis could barely see as something stepped out of Reaper’s sleeping form.
A massive white wolf shook himself, droplets of mist scattering from his coat, and when he lifted his head, his gaze locked onto Cian’s as if he could see Failinis deep inside him.
Mine.
The unspoken word resounded in his cage, and Failinis surged to his feet, a challenging growl rumbling in his chest. The white wolf’s lips peeled back in answer.
“Reaper?”
The white wolf stopped mid growl, lowered himself to the ground, and put his muzzle on his paws. “When I do not sleep, I am he.”
“You are a Wolf Walker.” Cian eased Reaper’s sleeping human form off him and rose to a crouch. “Wolf Walkers have not been seen since we crossed the veil.”
Play.
Play with Failinis.
Mate with Failinis
Failinis jumped to his feet and threw himself at the cage that kept him from freedom.
Yes. Let me out, brother.
Okay, okay.
Cian closed his eyes and allowed the change to happen. Bones cracked, skin split, and then Failinis took his place. The white wolf froze, his golden gaze locked on him as his tail slowly began to move.
Failinis.
What are you called by your people?
Ossary.
Failinis dipped his head, a slow bow, before stepping forward, his tail sweeping high. He circled Ossary once, twice, sniffing, assessing. Then, with a sharp yip, he darted away, disappearing into the undergrowth, with Ossary giving chase.
Failinis’s paws barely touched the ground as they ran through the sacred grove and beyond, into the deeper woods where the trees grew close, and the moonlight barely touched the ground.
Ossary was fast, but Failinis was faster as he dodged between the trunks, leaped over fallen logs, and Cian’s laughter echoed in his mind like a song.
Run, little brother.
He’s gonna catch you.
Failinis snarled, playful, and put on a burst of speed, cutting Ossary off at the hips.
The White Wolf yelped in surprise as Failinis bowled into him, sending them both tumbling into a pile of damp leaves.
Before Ossary could recover, Failinis was there, pinning him down, his jaws snapping at his throat, before nuzzling and licking along his muzzle.
Ossary twisted, kicking out with his powerful hind legs, and suddenly he was on top, his massive body pressing Failinis into the earth as they rolled again, a whirlwind of teeth and growls.
One moment, they were two wolves play-fighting, and the next something shifted, and the air between them thickened and charged with magic. The bond made by their human halves flared, drawing them in, weaving their wolf souls into itself.
Ossary’s golden eyes locked onto Failinis’s, and then he lunged. His teeth sank into the ruff of Failinis’s neck, sinking deep enough to leave a mark even in his wolf form.
Failinis went still beneath him, his body arching, a low whine vibrating in his chest, then he struck back. His jaws closed around the white wolf’s shoulder, his canines pricking skin, and Ossary shuddered, a sound tearing from his throat that was half-growl, half-whine.
Failinis’ tail lashed.
Yes.
This is what was missing.
It is.
The bond snapped into place, humming with power. Ossary’s weight pressed Failinis deeper into the damp earth, their panting breaths mingling in ragged bursts. The scent of pine and wet leaves filled his nostrils, but beneath it was the rich, wild musk of his mate.
Failinis twisted, to roll them both until he straddled Ossary’s broad chest. His paws pinned the white wolf’s shoulders, his muzzle hovering just above Ossary’s throat. A growl rumbled in his chest.
Mine.
Ossary’s golden eyes gleamed in the dim light, his lips peeling back in a silent snarl. Then his jaws closed around Failinis’ foreleg, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to make his point.
Yours.
The challenge hung between them, thick as the magic coiling through the bond.
Failinis released Ossary’s shoulder and lunged for his neck again, teeth grazing the thick fur.
Ossary bucked beneath him, powerful haunches driving upward, and suddenly Failinis was on his back, Ossary looming over him, jaws parted in a wolfish grin.
They rolled again, a tangle of limbs and snapping teeth, each vying for dominance, each refusing to yield.
The bond between them pulsed with every movement, but this wasn’t just the mark of their humans; it was the bond of the wolves too, a knot of instinct and magic, older than the memories of the people who had come from the north.
The fearsome warriors who, howling like wolves, fought for the ancient kings of Ireland, and were every bit as fierce and ferocious as the beasts they assumed the shape of.
Failinis twisted free and sprang to his feet, his tail high and his ears pricked. Ossary mirrored him, their chests heaving in unison.
Ossary lunged for his side, his massive body slamming into his flank, and they went down in a heap, jaws snapping and paws scrabbling for purchase. Failinis wrenched his head to the side and sank his teeth into Ossary’s ruff, holding tight as the white wolf thrashed beneath him.
Ossary’s growl vibrated against his chest before morphing into a whine. His hind legs kicked out, catching Failinis in the ribs, and suddenly the tables turned again. Ossary was on top, his weight crushing, his breath hot against Failinis’s ear.
Submit.
The word wasn’t spoken, but Failinis heard it all the same. His lips curled back in a silent snarl.
Never.
Ossary’s jaws closed around the back of Failinis’s neck, holding him in place, the pressure a warning. Failinis stilled, his body tensing in recognition. This was the dance of the mating Wolf Walker. The push and pull, the give and take, the heat, the desire, and the way of the mate bond.
He relaxed beneath Ossary, his tail thumping, and a low whine escaped him, in acknowledgment that he wanted this too.
Ossary’s grip loosened, his muzzle nuzzling against Failinis’ fur.
The white wolf’s breath was warm, his presence a solid, unyielding force.
Failinis turned his head just enough to lick along Ossary’s jaw, tasting the salt of sweat and the wild tang of the forest, then Ossary released him.
They sprang apart, circling each other again, but the tension had shifted.
The fight changed. Now it was a game, a test of speed and cunning rather than strength.
Failinis feinted left, then darted to the right, his paws barely making a sound as he wove between the trees.
Ossary gave chase, his white form like a ghost in the shadows.
Failinis could feel him gaining on him. He could hear the steady rhythm of his breath and the pounding of his paws against the ground.
He waited until the last possible second, then spun, his hindquarters coiling like a spring.
Ossary skidded to a stop, but Failinis was already moving, launching himself at the white wolf’s side.
They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, Failinis’ teeth sinking into the loose skin of Ossary’s neck.
Ossary twisted with a snarl, but Failinis was already gone, darting away into the undergrowth. He didn’t go far—just enough to put space between them, to draw Ossary in, and his white wolf mate didn’t disappoint.
Ossary came at him in a blur of fur, his jaws snapping shut just inches from his muzzle. He dodged, but Ossary was faster, his body slamming into his side and sending them both rolling across the forest floor. They came to a stop against the base of an ancient oak, its roots gnarled and twisted.
Failinis shook himself free and sprang to his feet, his sides heaving.
Ossary mirrored him, their gazes locked.
The bond between them was a rope of light and shadow, weaving around them, sending sparks skyward as it entwined their souls.
He could feel Ossary’s heartbeat as if it were his own, could taste the wildness on his tongue.
He pressed his muzzle against Ossary’s, their breaths mingling.
The white wolf’s fur was soft beneath his lips, and warm with the heat of the chase.
He inhaled deeply, memorizing the scent of him—pine and rain and something that was uniquely him.
He arched into the white wolf, a whine vibrating in his chest as his vision blurred, his body trembling with need.
He could feel Ossary’s desire mirroring his own, a wild, untamed thing that demanded release.
Ossary’s jaws closed around the back of his neck again, and Failinis’s legs gave out, his body sagging beneath the white wolf’s weight.
He didn’t fight it. He let Ossary pin him, let the white wolf’s body cover his own, let the heat of him seep into his bones.
This was the way of wolves, the shifters, and the Wolf Walkers.
This was the way of Grá Croí Wolf Walker Mates.
Mine.
Ossary’s growl was low and possessive.
Yours.
By the time the first pale streaks of dawn bled through the trees, turning the shadows silver, neither knew where one began, and the other ended. Failinis whined when Ossary stiffened above him, his ears twitching toward the sky, and a shudder ran through his massive frame.
It is time. I must return to my other form.
Failinis huffed and nipped at his muzzle.
Not yet.
Ossary snapped back, teeth bared, but there was no malice in it. His golden eyes flickered with something like regret before he wrenched free and raced toward where they had left Reaper’s sleeping form in the grove.
The White Wolf curled on Reaper’s chest as the first rays of the sun climbed over the horizon. The air rippled, and Ossary’s form wavered, his massive white body dissolving into Reaper’s. One second, he was there, fur bristling, muscles coiled. Next, he was once more the man.
Failinis curled up next to his mate, with his head on Reaper’s stomach, watching him sleep. Finally, everything was right in his world, and for the first time in centuries, he slept the sleep of a newborn and dreamed of the delights that would come with his Grá Croí when night fell once more.