Chapter 2
2
Near Immortal’s Caverns Near Tournai, Belgium
October 1
Morgan DuBois stood beside the tree, watching from across the field as her twin sister stared at a wide patch of fall flowers surrounded by a white picket fence. Gwyn’s mate, Torin, eased her to the ground and sat beside her in front of a small headstone in the shifter’s ancient cemetery. Morgan’s gaze dropped to Gwyn’s rounded stomach, then back up to the small child squirming in her arms.
Suddenly, he kicked out with his legs and jerked one arm back, smacking Gwyn in the face. He reached toward the ghostly outline of a woman standing behind Gwyn. The apparition also held a child in her arms, and from the dainty pink dress, the infant was a girl. His tiny body straightened as he strained to reach them.
As Morgan studied the two children, who looked to be maybe two years old, she couldn’t help but notice their similarities. While they seemed to be twins, she had never been a great judge when guessing ages.
If the guestimated birth date was correct, Gwyn wasn’t due until October 8 th , so who were the children? What happened to the little girl? Unshed tears tightened Morgan’s throat as she watched their palms momentarily touch before the ghosts faded from view.
Torin took the boy from Gwyn, and as the two males stared at each other, the child’s hand rose, pressing against Torin’s cheek. She couldn’t help but wonder what they were thinking.
That was what a family was supposed to look like. The thought cut through Morgan’s heart like a knife. She missed her parents so much and would give just about anything to see and talk to her mother. While her father had never been the best of conversationalists, he gave the best hugs, and right now, she desperately needed one.
Everything she wanted was down there, and here she was, alone. The story of her life. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the myriad of scents from the forest. The musty smell of rotting vegetation hit her nostrils first but was quickly overtaken by the bitter-sweet, yet refreshing, scent of pine as it settled around her. Layered over that was the magical sweet scent of lily of the valley. She also picked out something smelling like sweet lemon, then the headier scent of jasmine.
She let the familiar fragrances of the forest wash over her, bringing a soothing sensation of peace. She focused on the lily of the valley, breathing it in deeply and allowing it to permeate every pore. She knew the scent well, as it had been her mother’s favorite perfume.
On maudlin days like today, she missed her mother. While she had given both her girls equal amounts of love, she always understood the turmoil within Morgan and knew how to alleviate it. Without that support, Morgan felt like she was spiraling out of control most days. Now, more than ever.
All her life, she had been terrified of the curse passed down through generations in her family. Now, with a clearer understanding of how the curse originated, she felt anger. What right did a self-righteous, egotistical Fae have to curse her grandmother? And for what? Because of an unrequited infatuation? It was clear the man had no idea how to love, as he had shown on more than one occasion. Yet to curse all the women in a family was reprehensible.
Her lips rose, almost in a smile. Of course, knowing her grandmother, the curse should have been broken long ago. As the feared Celtic goddess of war, Morrigan would throw everything she had into the fight to save her granddaughters and unborn great-grandchildren. So why did her magic seem nullified?
Even with the help of her two sisters, Nemain and Macha, Fer-Diorich’s curse should not have succeeded nor remained in play. The goddess’s wrath should have decimated him, so how was he still alive?
The longer she mulled over the known facts, she could only conclude that Morrigan wasn’t allowed to interfere…per the curse. Morgan narrowed her gaze, watching her sister’s smiling face as she stared up at Torin. Could there be a way around it, though?
“I’m not sure I want to know, but why do you have an evil smile on your pretty lips?”
Morgan jumped as the sensual voice said near her ear. Turning, she stared into Rafael’s pale silver gaze. A hint of light green woven through the metallic color gave her a glimpse of his original eye color as a human. From the moment she looked into their depths, she had been lost.
Standing almost a head taller than her, his pristine white fur covered his lithe body, even for a wolf. His long mane was pulled back and held with a leather tie. Unlike the other wolves in their family clan, he was the only one who wore jewelry.
Her gaze landed on the small, plain silver hoops in each ear, making her heart beat just a little faster, and she didn’t have to glance down to find the filigreed bands of silver wrapped around his thick biceps. She loved the intricate blending of Celtic and Castellian designs.
She never dreamed she would find a pirate-looking wolf sexually attractive, but she did. God forgive her. She refused to acknowledge how much she loved it, so that made her feel a bit less like a sexual deviant. She narrowed her gaze. “I’m going to magically attach a bell to you so you can’t sneak up on me.”
Rafael’s black lips rose in a wolfish grin, and an unnamed emotion twisted deep inside her. It had taken almost the entire time she healed for him to let go of some of his seriousness. Five months of relaxing for him and five months of anxiety for her. Not quite a fair trade-off, but no one had asked her opinion. Still, his slightly crooked grin was endearing and had worked its way through the thick wall she had built around her since finding out what had really happened to her.
It wasn’t every day one was given such a gift. If turning from half-human and half-Fae to half-shifter, half-Fae could be considered a gift. Thankfully, the shifter part had not emerged, and she wouldn’t turn into a fur-covered she-wolf. All she had received from Rafael on that front was increased strength and speed, which she would take any day.
Rafael’s gaze turned to the valley, unerringly stopping on the cemetery. “Their deaths will not be in vain. We will defeat Fer-Diorich.” He glanced back at her, one white brow rising. “Now, I’m taking you home. I know it’s been many months since your ordeal, but until we are sure you have healed?—”
Morgan planted her fists on her hips and glared. “How are we supposed to discover that if you never let me do anything or go anywhere? Since we returned from Germany, you haven’t let me do anything. At least in Bad Wildbad, you let me take long walks through the forest and visit the thermal pool, which, by the way, was amazing. Here? You won’t let me walk outside.”
He gave her a droll glare. “You’re outside now.”
Shaking her head, she swallowed her amusement. The troublesome wolf didn’t need any encouragement. He was proving more annoying by the day. “Rafael…”
“We do not know yet what the combination of Nemain’s powers and my powers will do to you.”
“Why did you bring me back here if I can’t see my sister? She’s almost due to have the baby, and I need to be there to help her.” He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand, his jaws snapping shut.
“We know my speed has increased like your werewolf’s, but I have shown no sign of being able to shift into one?—"
“Yet.”
She glared. “Yet, but I don’t believe I ever will. I haven’t had any power overloads from Nemain and have been able to control what spells I’ve learned. Even though I’m now more Fae than my sister, I can handle the power. I’ve diligently been working on building a mental wall so I don’t hear other people’s thoughts, although sometimes I would like to know what a certain person is thinking.” She gave him a droll glare.
His humor disappeared, his gaze momentarily lingering on her face before returning to the small cemetery. “I don’t want you down there yet because there have been too many deaths already. I refuse to add yours to the list. There are things you need to come to terms with about your new life. You were born with a touch of Fae, but having an infusion of Fae power such as Nemain’s could become difficult for you to handle. You won’t know until it’s too late. Are you willing to risk the lives of those you love because of impatience?”
He shook his head, his gaze never leaving those he, too, cared for below. “Due to the unforeseen events against the Dark Fae’s werewolves, you have lost most of your human side. You will need to learn how to use your new abilities…however they may manifest, and that can only be done with time and training. While your brain still thinks by human standards, you must never forget you are no longer human.”
She shrugged, not understanding the reason behind Rafael’s gravity. “I don’t feel any different than I ever have, so I think you’re worrying for nothing.” She turned down the almost obsolete path that led to his hidden cottage.
With slow steps, she studied the quaint house, admiring the cottage facade, which was something out of a fairytale with its thatched roof and plastered exterior. Even the colorful window boxes seemed out of character for Rafael, although she didn’t know him well. He seemed more of the scavenge-for-prey type of werewolf.
With a wave of her arm toward the building, she glanced back at him. “Why do you hide out here when you can live in the caves with the other wolves? Other than your constant complaints about Makari, which are on the weak side, I know you would be welcome.”
She curiously glanced over her shoulder before gazing at the uneven ground as she walked up the stone pathway. She didn’t need to twist her ankle on the various-sized rocks and give this overly protective wolf a reason to keep her inside longer.
“So, what’s up between you and Makari anyway? Why are you always at each other’s throats?”
“He is too angry and surly toward the others, and it’s aggravating.”
She laughed, the light-hearted sound filling the forest’s stillness from their passing, the animals sensing not one but two predators moving through their home. “That’s priceless! You are every bit as angry and moody as he is!”
“I am not. I am quiet and reflective but think what you want. I’m not willing to argue about something so trivial. There are other, more serious things we need to discuss. First, though, you need to do the exercises I gave you. Don’t think I didn’t notice your escape before doing them this morning.”
“A girl like me can only take so much stretching and meditating. I’m more of a go-get-’em type of gal. Ask Gwyn the next time you see her. She’ll tell you I’m the leader of our rescues. That reminds me—I need to get back to them. Goodness knows how many animals have continued to suffer because we haven’t been there. I may have changed, but their lives have not, and for every day we aren’t there to help those being abused, animals die.”
Laying his paw against the small of her back, he guided her the final few feet to the open door of the small cottage and gently pushed her inside. “If you do not master your new magic, more than just innocent animals will die. Besides, Kilian and Torin have been watching over the store and your rescues—the few that have been called in.”
The home looked small from the outside, but she had quickly learned that looks could be deceiving. The interior never ceased to amaze her. One step inside and the space opened into a cozy but large living area with a massive stone fireplace, the gorgeous rocks creating a mural of color all the way to the high ceiling.
On the other side, almost directly across from the front door, an entryway opened into a long hall with more rooms than one person would ever need. The hidden kitchen door leading into the caves held her attention the most, the cool quiet calling to her.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but do your tunnels meet up with the ones the others use?” She sat on the leather sofa and tucked her legs under her.
“In a way. This is the same mountain range as the main residence, but the terrain accessing their tunnels is incredibly dangerous. I blocked off the main passageway so no one would stumble upon it and get hurt…or worse.”
“It’s that dangerous? With your and the other wolves’ abilities, I figured there wasn’t much you guys couldn’t do—like reform the rock into a safer path. I don’t know how you were before Fer-Diorich’s mad experiments, but the wolf parts are incredible athletes. I imagine you could do almost anything and go anywhere you wished.”
“Yes and no. We were born during a challenging time. Most people who lived in villages banded together and created a community, so there was usually plenty of food to eat.
This also made it easy for those who desired more and ravaged the villages, plundering and ransacking for their own gain…even raping and killing didn’t stop them. They moved from place to place, but if a village was particularly wealthy, they would circle back and ransack it again.”
He leaned against the narrow island separating the kitchen from the living room. “Our abilities are varied, but yes, we were specifically created with increased speed, strength, and a highly developed fighting ability.”
She tilted her head. “So, you’re talking about the Vikings?”
“Yes, and others. The Vikings are the poster children for that time, but there were many more factions, before and after, who invaded.”
“Like the Huns and Mongols?”
“Yes,” he gave her an appreciative smirk. “You know your history.”
“Gwyn and I couldn’t get enough of it and read everything our parents had on many subjects. After we finished their books, we read through the libraries in every town we stayed at. I have a wide variety of knowledge, but sadly, not very in-depth about any of it.”
He gave her a wolfy smile. “The Huns, Byzantines, and Maygars invaded before and around the Vikings while the Arabs and Mongols began as the Vikings slowed down. My people fought the Romans, Vandals, Visigoths, and finally the Muslims until the Reconquista of the Christians.”
She smiled. “So you are Spanish.”
His brow rose. “I thought you knew that.”
She shrugged. “Gwyn and I wondered. You tend to keep everything tightly sealed inside that stubborn head of yours. You don’t share often. The others are much easier to guess. Torin, Fáelán, and Kilian are from ancient Gaul, making them Celtic. I believe Makari is Russian, although he’s as tight-lipped about his past as you are. We couldn’t decide if you were Italian, Spanish, or even Celtic like the others. Gwyn thought you were a blending of them all.”
“My past isn’t something I like thinking about. I see no reason to say anything about it. Those I let in know me for who I am today, not as a youth.”
“I get it. It was difficult for us growing up being the granddaughters of the most feared Celtic goddess in all history. My sister and I never felt quite worthy. When our parents were murdered, that feeling worsened until we began rescuing animals. It was our parents’ passion until we made it ours. Gwyn and I are proud of who we are today, but thinking about us as younger girls isn’t all that flattering.”
Rafael glided toward her, raising her chin with the side of his paw. “You are an amazing woman, Morgan DuBois. Never doubt that. I am also quite certain your younger version was no different than the one before me today.”
He dropped his paw and moved closer to the fireplace, sitting in his favorite chair. With a single glance at the partially burned logs, a fire sprung to life as if it had been burning for hours and immediately chased away the chill lingering in the room from the approaching night.
“We need to discuss what you will concentrate on next.” Morgan’s good mood plummeted but she stayed silent as he continued. “You have a strong talent for spells but don’t use it often, and you catch on to battle tactics disturbingly fast.” She couldn’t hide her grin if she had wanted to. Coming from Rafael, that was high praise, even if he meant it negatively.
“What do you think you need to concentrate on?” he asked, surprising her.
She thought a moment, considering all her options, but there was one thing she needed more than anything. Complete confidence using her Fae magic. Gwyn had always been stronger with spells, while Morgan had relied more on her physical training. She knew she was good at strategy and action, but using her magic was on a wing and a prayer. The problem was her lack of patience, which was why she excelled in action-based things. She exhaled. She had her answer.
“While I don’t like it, I need to master my Fae side—both old and new. It was never my strong suit.” She shrugged, feeling as if she were letting him down. “I simply don’t have the patience for learning spellwork.”
He grinned, his silver-green eyes glistening in the firelight. “What if I told you no real patience is necessary? You can control most of what you can do with a thought, but that thought must be precise. Like when I restarted the fire. My thought was specific to what I needed the flames to do. I wanted them to burn the logs as they were before, contained in the fireplace, so I pictured a roaring fire inside the fireplace. If I had simply pictured a fire, the whole forest could have gone up in flames.”
She frowned, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Seriously? It’s that simple?”
An innocent expression passed over his face. It was one she had seen plenty of times before and knew there was more to what he said. “What are you not telling me?”
“You must practice focusing your thoughts, which won’t be easy. I have noticed your mind tends to flip all over the place. You can’t separate your desires from your needs. When you can do that, you will have mastered your Fae powers.”
“Excuse me?” She huffed. “I think you need to explain that better because I want to throw something at you right now.”
He chuckled. “I figured that would be your reaction. I merely referred to your desire to return to your sister. While that is understandable, your thoughts also include the babies, returning to your home in Tournai, your business, and needing to talk to Nemain or Morrigan.”
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “All those thoughts obstruct your current goal, which is total concentration on learning to use your new powers. If you think your youth was difficult learning to spell and use the few powers given to you by your mother, wait until you really begin using what you have now. It is both a gift and a curse.”
Leaning back on the sofa, she exhaled, what was left of her energy flowing with the air. “Fine. Can we eat first before you begin your torture session? I’m starving and my body demands sustenance.”
He stood and moved to the window, a slight frown marring his beautiful wolven features. She felt more than saw his worry. “Rafael? What is it?”
He shook his head, but his gaze never left the window. “Nothing, mi pequeno. There is stew in the refrigerator and cornbread in the cupboard. Eat and I will return shortly.”
She waited until he was halfway down the cobblestone path before getting up and watching as he entered the forest. His reaction was totally out of character for him. The longer she stood there, staring out the window, the more she needed to know why.
Hurrying toward the cupboard, she unwrapped the cornbread and slathered the top with butter, stuffing one corner in her mouth. Chewing the delicious morsel, she groaned and rolled her eyes. If there was one thing the Spaniard could do well, it was bake. She took another bite and left the cottage, heading through the forest after him.