Chapter 3 #2
“Must be static electricity,” she said, but her smile was strained.
The brave, friendly Calia was visibly shaken.
Gingerly, she touched his head again, triggering the same surge of energy that sent a ripple of completeness through him.
Old Mairwen and her Weavers had chosen wisely.
This woman was the one meant to break the curse.
“What is it about you?” she whispered as she gently ruffled her fingers through his fur and scratched his ears.
She barely shook her head. “It has to be the exhaustion making me crazy. Things will be clearer in the morning.” Her smile became more self-assured as she rose to her feet.
“How about some food, and then I’ll spread a blanket out for you?
You can spend the night inside since it’s raining. ”
“I dinna smell any bones or meat,” his wolf said. “What does she mean to feed us?”
“I dinna ken, but whatever it is, we are going to be polite and eat it.”
She returned with a bowl filled with round bits of brown chunks that looked like something that had been left in the sun to dry. “Here you go. Otto loves this.”
“It looks like mud or dried horse shite.”
“We are going to try it. It canna be all that bad.”
Mathison gave the food a hesitant sniff and sneezed.
“Aye, that should impress her.”
“Shut it.”
“Oh my, did it get up your nose?” Calia laughed and pulled up a cushioned stool to sit on. “I know it’s different, but it’s freeze-dried and full of all the good things. Give it a try.”
His wolf sighed. Loudly.
Holding his breath so as to taste the food even less, Mathison took a bite, crunched the mouthful of brown bits, and swallowed.
“That tasted like shite.”
“Since when do ye eat shite?”
“Ye know what I’m telling ye.”
Mathison agreed, but it seemed to please Calia, so he wolfed down another mouthful and then another until the bowl was nearly empty.
“I canna bear any more of that. If ye eat another bite of it, I’ll be sending it right back out.”
“Fair enough.” Mathison didn’t think he could stomach any more of the stuff either. He nosed the bowl closer to Calia, then backed up a pace, hoping to make the message clear without making the mistake of speaking directly to her.
She rewarded him with another rub of his head, took away the bowl, then rummaged in one of the oversized crates stacked beside her couch. “Thank goodness they labeled the boxes. There’s a blanket in here with your name on it.”
“She knows yer name?”
“I think she meant that in jest.” Even though mortals in this realm spoke the same language, he’d noticed that the things they said often possessed a myriad of meanings.
“Here we are.” She brought over a thick plaid blanket, folding it thrice to make a fine pallet not too far from the woodstove. With that smile of hers that could coax him through the very gates of hell, she patted it. “Come on. You can lie here. It’ll be softer than directly on the floor.”
Mathison eased over to the blanket and settled down on it, but remained tense enough to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
It was so difficult not to speak directly to her, to thank her for her intended kindness.
This woman cared and loved, but would she still do so when she knew him for what he truly was?
“You have the most beautiful eyes.” She held his head between her hands, rendering him helpless with her touch. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “You always have a home with me. Never forget that.”
As if he could. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the hammering of his heart. She was the one, but to win her, he would have to proceed with the greatest of care. Instinct told him that the fated mate bond alone would not guarantee her acceptance of him. Something akin to a whine escaped him.
“It’ll be all right,” she said, and for some reason, he felt as if she was trying to reassure herself rather than him. “It’ll be all right.”
He struggled not to respond, knowing she would hear him and become frightened all over again. To maintain control, he broke eye contact and rested his head on the floor between his paws.
“I’m tired too.” She stroked his head, scratched behind his ears, and ran her fingers through the thick ruff that shielded his neck from attack. Yawning, she went to the garden door and almost closed it. “I’m leaving it cracked so you can shove it open if you decide you want to leave.”
“She is fearless,” Dubh said. “Even without guards, she leaves the door open so that anyone might enter.”
“We will not allow anyone near her.”
“No, we will not.”
“Goodnight, handsome Wolf with the beautiful eyes,” she said as she slipped into the bedroom. “Get back, Otto. If he’s still here in the morning, we’ll have a closely supervised meet and greet.”
“What is a closely supervised meet and greet?” Dubh asked.
“I believe she intends for us to interact directly with her ally.”
His wolf snorted. Mathison felt the same, but they needed to make Otto their ally as well. Calia loved that dog. They had no choice but to befriend him.
* * *
Mairwen eased open the door from the garden, surveying the peaceful scene of Mathison in his wolf form, uneasily stretched across the blanket, where he tried to appear appreciative of his accommodations.
He opened his eyes and glared at her as she stepped into the room.
“Ye seem to have done well, mighty chieftain, even though she possesses the amulet.”
“Why did ye give that to her?”
“To protect her. The Ninth Realm is fraught with danger for her. There, she will be able to hear every shifter speak, whether it is directed at her or not, as long as she wears the medallion.” Mairwen drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
The rainy night possessed a chill. Or perhaps it was the risk of what she was about to suggest. There were more dangers than mere prejudice waiting in the Realm for this unsuspecting woman, but she hesitated to mention them.
“Yer Calia will have to learn how to use the amulet wisely as well as how to silence it.”
After a glance at the closed door across the room, Mathison rose to all fours. “And how will she learn that?”
“Ye will teach her. Once ye cross over to the Ninth Realm.” Mairwen fisted her hand and raised it higher.
“She must clutch it thusly while thinking for it to aid her. When she is safe once again, she should release it and let it rest upon the bare flesh of her throat.” Misgivings troubling her, Mairwen pressed her fist to her heart.
“It will not be easy to teach her anything in the Ninth Realm because yer Calia believes in nothing but what she can see and touch.” She shook her head, the memory of the woman saying those words reinforcing her sadness.
“Her pain has numbed her to the sweet music of magic and the unexplainable.”
“What have yer cards told ye, old one? Will I succeed in this quest? Will the walls she hides behind come tumbling down?”
“My cards have shown me hope.” Mairwen wished she could tell him more, but the tarot deck had remained firm on that count. “That is why, once she is settled, ye must meet her in yer human form.” She shrugged. “Yer wolf has won her. Time for ye to win her as well.”
“Settled?”
Mairwen shrugged. “I agree. As restless as she is with the upheaval of her life and her fated mate so close, ’tis doubtful she will ever truly be settled.
Tomorrow, we will do more.” What that more was remained elusive at the moment, but she would think of something.
“Be listening for my call and dinna speak to her through the amulet any further, ye ken? Ye frightened her.”
“Anymore spying and I’ll be hiking my leg on yer watchers, old one. I dinna stomach spies well.”
“My watchers enable me to help ye by showing me what happens.” Mairwen nodded at the closed bedroom door. “And befriend that animal of hers. She is quite fond of her Otto.”
“I am nay a fool. I intended to do so, as does my wolf.”
“Good. May the Highland Veil bless our endeavors.”
This particular match concerned Mairwen.
Much was at stake. Not only the healing of the blessed weave by yet another pairing of fated mates, but also the survival of the Ninth Realm.
As the joint rulers in their father’s stead, Mathison’s heirs were being led astray by the witch from their mother’s clan, and Mairwen suspected yet another source of evil was involved as well.
There was much about his supposed sons that made little sense and did not balance with the energies.
The Realm needed his wisdom to set things right.
The wolf chieftain stared at her, his blue-white eyes cutting and fierce. “Ye worry me, old one. What are ye not saying?”
“Yer heirs need yer help.”
“My heirs think I am dead, and any who might convince them otherwise canna see me. They think me a restless spirit cursed to wander the realm. Ye know that as well as I.”
“Once Calia loves ye, that will change. But…” Mairwen allowed herself a deep breath to fuel a heavy sigh.
“Her allowing herself to love ye will be quite the challenge. Until she speaks the binding oath and means it, even if ye join physically, the union of yer souls will not properly meld, and the curse will not be broken. Ye must win her heart as well as her soul.”
Unblinking, his glare hardened, became icier. “Are ye telling me this is all for naught?”
“No. I am telling ye it will nay be easy and that ye must be patient. I know that is not yer strong suit, nor that of yer wolf’s.”
“We will do whatever needs to be done because Calia is ours.”
“That is the best news I have heard since accepting the challenge to find yer mate and break this curse.”
* * *