Chapter 38 SECOND CHANCES #2
Alar’s eyes fluttered shut, recalling that heated night, the evening before Dulross.
He’d lost control, had given himself to the hunger that had been growing for days.
Aye, he’d marked her, and he’d hated himself for it ever since.
He’d been a selfish bastard, doing that the night before betraying her.
“I always wanted to feel closer to the wulvers,” he replied after a pause. “And ever since I had this tattoo inked upon my skin, something lupine now lives within me.”
“I’ve seen it.” Her fingers continued to trace the wolf’s head. “When you fight … and when the bog wights had you at The Shattered Crown. Your eyes glowed red. You snarled like a wolf.”
“It’s a part of me now,” he admitted softly. “Does it bother you?”
Her gaze lifted to his once more. “No.”
They stared at each other then. “Your people aren’t going to be happy about this,” he said finally.
He didn’t want to shatter the moment, but he had to be practical.
The sight of the Half-blood riding at the High Queen’s side through the gates of Duncrag would likely cause an uproar. They all knew what he’d done.
Lara lifted a hand, stroking his jaw. However, her gaze never left his. “No. But I’ve weathered their anger before … and this time, we bring good news home with us. I will tell them of your valor. I will ensure everyone learns about the part you played at The Shattered Crown.”
He snorted softly. “Other than being Mor’s sacrificial goat?” His skin prickled then as he recalled kneeling on that stone. He’d known something was off. He should have trusted his instincts.
Lara’s chin rose. “She thought she’d outwitted us all.” Her eyes narrowed then. “She believed your father would stand by and watch you die. That was her mistake. She didn’t understand love … or what people will do for it.”
When Lara emerged from the alcove, cloak wrapped around her shoulders, with Alar at her side, she found the rest of their party already awake and seated by the hearth.
Duana and Eithne had joined them. The sisters were frying oatcakes on a hot iron griddle.
The sweet, nutty aroma drifted through the roundhouse.
Their hands wrapped around hot cups of broth, the others lifted their heads, their gazes tracking Lara and Alar.
None of them looked surprised, and warmth rolled over Lara.
It was too late to be embarrassed though. After overhearing Cailean and Bree, she knew how sound traveled. And they’d forgotten themselves. Alar had taken her twice more during the night, each time louder and lustier than the last.
She wouldn’t be surprised if nobody in this roundhouse had gotten much sleep.
Lara didn’t speak as she approached the hearth. Instead, she lowered herself onto a stool. Alar sat down next to her. Skaal rose from where she’d been gnawing on an ox bone a few yards away and padded over to him, nudging him with her nose.
Smiling, Alar ruffled her ears.
Cailean muttered something under his breath.
“You have reconciled then?” Bree’s voice held a note of quiet resignation.
Lara took the cup of hot broth Eithne passed her. “We have.”
“I knew this would happen,” Roth sighed.
“We all saw this coming,” Annis added, shaking her head. “The moment you insisted he travel south with us, it was clear.”
Lara swept her gaze over their faces. “And you all disapprove?”
A brittle silence settled around the hearth.
“I don’t,” Eithne shattered the tension with a warm smile. “I think you’re perfect together.”
“As do I,” Duana agreed as she flipped oatcakes.
No one else ventured a comment.
Taking a sip of broth, Lara sighed. “Alar will return to Duncrag and co-rule with me as prince regent.”
Cailean gave a slow nod before his attention shifted to Alar. “I’ll be watching you, Half-blood.” His voice was low, yet with an edge she recognized.
Alar inclined his head, acknowledging the threat.
Tension rippled over the circle. Silence stretched out as the hearth crackled. Duana began dishing out oatcakes onto wooden trenchers.
Reaching out, Lara took Alar’s hand, lacing her fingers through his. He squeezed gently.
“I’d expect nothing less of you, Cailean,” she replied, her lips curving. Her gaze then traveled over their faces, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “From any of you.”
She drew a breath then, inhaling woodsmoke and feeling Alar’s steady presence beside her.
“You’ve kept me alive through impossible odds.
You’ve followed me into the darkness. Your loyalty has never wavered …
even when mine did.” Her throat tightened.
“So, aye, hold him answerable. Hold us both accountable. That’s what family does. ”
The word hung in the air between them—family.
Not advisors or even friends. She meant it too.
Slowly, Bree’s shoulders lowered. Annis bowed her head, while Ren blinked, her eyes glistening. Even Cailean and Roth’s expressions softened. And as the moments slid by, a small smile tugged at the chief-enforcer’s lips.
Outside, a goat bleated, and somewhere in the distance, a bairn wailed. Life, with all its beauty, messiness, and uncertainty. They’d face whatever came next, the way they’d faced everything else—battle-weary yet stubborn.
Standing together.
Lara lifted her cup of broth toward them, smiling back at them. “To second chances,” she said softly.
A pause followed, and then, one by one, they raised their cups in answer.