Chapter 8
Fallon
Declan let out a furious roar. Ned somehow threw up a spray of pea gravel right behind us but no one noticed. Wolf shifters surrounded us. Thankfully, they came fully dressed because there were absolutely hundreds of them. So many that I couldn’t detect the town beyond.
I slid off his back with weak knees, the enormity of my task ahead and the overwhelming welcome settling like a lead ball in my gut.
Everyone wanted to touch Declan, all talking at once in a wall of sound only outdone by the cacophony of a bardic band starting up.
Lutes and panpipes joined a piano-squeezebox and an Orc’s sitar.
Magic made the echo of the instruments reach much farther than it should have.
Lights shot up into the cold sky, bathing the crowd in luminance that highlighted and then hid the surrounding wolves.
Magic breathed through the assembled monsters as some of them dropped into their lupine form.
Others clapped Declan on the shoulder, offering so many gifts he couldn’t possibly hold them all.
“Can you help us organize a party to Timbertrail? We might finally get through the woods.”
Declan’s furrowed brow looked as overwhelmed as I felt. Everyone had a request for him, like he had never left.
One small wolf tugged on my sleeve and I dropped to meet her eye.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Declan’s friend. Who are you?”
Her little hands balled up into shy fists. “Missy. But you don’t look like friends.”
Ouch. I was afraid to ask what we did look like. She saved me from having to answer.
“Want to see magic? I scared Momma when it asked to play with me an… I made a fire on the floor. Now she won’t let me.”
“Of course I want to see. I thought only wolves lived here.”
She giggled in a pitch high enough to make a wolf howl. “We do, silly! But if you’re nice, Old Magic, it will play with you. See?”
Her little hands came together in prayer and she whispered words I couldn’t hear. Her wee hands splayed out and a burst of sparks appeared. The girl screeched in delight, the flickers growing into tiny flames. I edged back as they lit the space between us.
“Oh, no you don’t!” A woman came flying toward us, scooping the little girl into her arms. “Sorry. She’s never actually seen the Old Magic so I’m just trying to make sure she doesn’t burn down Nightfell.”
She tickled the girl, who snuggled back into her.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at putting out fires. In a kitchen, at least,” I said.
“I’m afraid I’ll throw a tincture on it instead and our house will go up in a second. Though I’ll finally get to use my healing magic again, so maybe I can sell those.”
Another healer. I edged away on instinct. Those types always noticed too much of what I would rather keep to myself.
“I’m sorry. I’m being rude.” She stuck out a free hand, juggling her child. “Noreen.”
I had no right to be rude back. I was going to be here for a hot second. “Fallon.” She smiled at me with such warmth, I decided to try out our lie. “Declan’s mate.”
No strange light entered her eye. Magic didn’t crash down upon us. No prophecy ejected out of her daughter. I took a deep breath. Then another one. One more for good measure until their faces came back in focus.
The sea of wolves parted for a woman with long iron-grey hair, wrapped around her head in intricate braids.
Was a girl allowed to faint as a first impression on their very fake mother-in-law?
Declan put down all the gifts in his arms to greet her.
Her back straight, chin firm, I immediately wanted to grow up to be her.
Power radiated off her with a steely competence I could only hope to possess.
I recognized the muscles of a chef. The bulk of her forearms made me dizzy.
“Bardeva!” she said. Centuries of standing over a fire made her voice whiskey and smoke. “You’ve returned. You’ve returned. Can you feel it? It’s everywhere again.” She looked as giddy as a schoolgirl.
“Clearly, Momma!” Declan said as he smashed into her ample chest, but he said it with too much good cheer for anyone to take offense. For all that Declan looked sheepishly uncomfortable, the stout arms surrounding him and the full-body radiating joy made it look like the best hug in existence.
I craved it like fresh spring water. My parents had died before I remembered their hugs, and my Aunt acted as though she should ration them for war.
The few times I had had sex, it was out of sheer desperation for physical contact.
Would Evie and even Maggie have hugged me if I had asked?
Absolutely. But what if they caught me on a bad day?
What if I flinched or involuntarily pulled away because of a pain I would then have to explain?
They might have understood if I’d told them, but then they would want to help manage it and talk about it, and do something when there really wasn't much to be done.
I had it under control, mostly. Right?! This was all under–
My spiral cut off abruptly as the same hug attacked me.
Better than I ever would have imagined, pure bliss filled every part of me as warmth, care, and excitement wrapped around me.
Her arms, granite blocks from hours of kneading, chopping, and butchering, held me tight.
Her big palm cradled the back of my head.
I clung to her, willing it to never end, but she pulled me back to search my face.
“And this is?” She barely contained herself, already knowing the answer in that way that mothers had.
“My mate!” Declan slid a hand around my waist, pulling me back to his side.
It was different when he said it as if he wholeheartedly believed it. The words still landed as a body blow when the entire crowd cheered.
It’s like you brought home untold riches and gold. I cringed inwardly as I worked to stiffen my spine.
Maybe I did. He winked at me.
I could do this. Holding her gaze, I said, “I’m a mate.”
I tried to hold out my hand and she eyed it. My palms began to sweat.
“I’m his mate,” I corrected myself, my tongue tying in knots. Retrieving my hand, I wiped it on my cloak. Come on, Fallon. I had just said it to the healer, but this was different. It was like showing my ugly nightgown to my hero.
“I’m Fallon.” Godds above and below I sounded like an idiot.
“My goodness, Tali! We don't need formality around family! Come, come, let me see you.”
She was already looking at me. What was left to see? I stepped back from her beckoning hands. A hug was one thing but inspection was another. That came with criticism. I found myself caged in Declan's embrace.
What is she calling me? I asked him.
Daughter, Declan replied with a smile.
Okay. No pressure at all. Sweat was definitely not rolling down my back. Not deterred by my hesitation in the slightest, Declan’s mom gathered my face in the cradle of her strong, calloused hands. Her eyes shifted, growing golden, luminous. I stood trapped by them as she gazed into my soul.
“Beautiful. Just beautiful,” she said as a balm washed over me. I hadn't realized how much I wanted to hear that from my mother, or even my reluctant Aunt, until this moment.
Declan’s siblings skidded into the clearing, panting up a storm.
“You’re late! Come, Tali. We’ll eat now. Celebrate!” Declan’s mother grabbed my hand.
Those fears Declan had about his homecoming seemed like smoke as wolves, furry and more human-looking, took us on a tide of bodies to the main square of Nightfell.
I might have pictured mud huts in such a hidden part of the Harrowlands, but the buildings were rustic and warm.
Plaster and timber soaked up the night, the color from the cheery banners, the sound of hundreds of wolves milling around us.
It was so different from Evie’s territory, Harrowood.
Everyone seemed to know each other, clustering into friend groups around flickering braziers, then breaking apart to find family.
It also meant I heard snippets of chatter along the way, but without the sharp, vicious tenor of the gossip of my human village’s accusing rumor pit.
Noreen waved to me and her daughter copied her.
I stored her name away in case I got desperate, even though her unwavering regard made me uneasy.
Long tables filled the square to form a chain of community where everyone could eat, converse, and raise a glass.
Torchlight flickered a warm welcome across the cobbles.
These people knew how to create a celebration at speed if all this came together in the short time since we entered their territory.
I moved to sit in the closest chair and Declan heaved me up by my arm, all but dragging me to the head table. No, no. I never sat at the head. I served the people at the head table. Declan shook my arm, a familiar attempt to get me to relax.
She’ll think it’s an insult. You have to sit with me. I won’t bite… hard.
My belly swooped for no good reason. Nerves were better than admitting his tone had me confused. The smile on Declan’s face said he was kidding, right?
I didn’t have time to sort it out because someone walking to his right asked him a question. My ears must have been tired because I couldn’t understand a word of it. The man’s mouth moved, all right. I shook my head.
Then my brain heated to sizzling as Declan replied in the same singsong, rippling language he apparently knew natively.
I clenched my teeth so my tongue wouldn’t loll out.
Not a clue what they were saying, but the tone, the velvet cadence and rolling R’s arrowed straight between my legs.
It sounded like storybook birds gossiping, but hot.
“What was the thing you made me for Mellonia’s Feast Day?” Declan turned to me.
I blinked. Was he talking to me? I needed more of those sounds coming out of his mouth.
“Fallon?” His blue gaze sharpened and the prick of his intent popped the bubble of his words.
“The gr-grilled cheese?”