Chapter 10
10
Immortals’ Cavern outside of Tournai, Belgium
Morgan sat on the smaller sofa near the fireplace and closest to the door. The amount of testosterone in the room made her want to run away. Not to mention Rafael’s not-so-subtle smoldering anger, although she had no clue what she had done to fire him up this time. He seemed fine after the battle. Try as she might, she could not figure him out.
Studying the three new wolves, sitting together near Torin on the far side of the expansive library, she reached out with her senses and immediately felt their unease. Makari stood behind Torin, ever the sentinel, and Fáelán puttered around in the small kitchenette, preparing his special tea. The only missing wolf was Kilian, Fáelán’s brother, who was likely out running with the local wolf pack as usual.
Inhaling the overwhelming scent of aged leather and ancient wood, she wondered at the timing. The new wolves arrived just before the Ironclaws, which worried her, but she wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. In fact, she would keep her mouth shut, even if it killed her. She stifled her laugh. Who was she kidding? It probably would kill her. Keeping her opinions and thoughts to herself was the one thing she had never been able to conquer.
The larger of the two black wolves, Mathayus, didn’t look happy, and his two sidekicks squirmed. Garrett glanced at Angel, who gave him a slight nod, then laid his red fur-covered paw on Mathayus’s thick forearm. “We didn’t risk our lives to stay silent. We have come all this way with a purpose. I sense no animosity from anyone in this room.” His brilliant blue gaze met hers across the room. “Curiosity and maybe a little suspicion, but that’s to be expected.”
She kept her facial expression blank but wondered how he so easily read her. The one thing she knew she did well was keeping people out. She glanced at her brother-in-law. “Torin, where’s Gwyn?”
“She was tired after the trip into town but will be here in a few minutes,” Torin answered before turning to the three newcomers. “You are protected and here as our guests,” He leaned forward in his chair and threaded his fingers together in a relaxed manner.
Knowing him as well as she did, he made himself vulnerable to show them they were safe. However, relaxation wouldn’t come easy if she were in their place. “In the square, you mentioned being imprisoned,” Torin continued. “Can you tell us how that came to be?”
Angel nodded as Gwyn silently entered the room, sitting beside Torin. “Like I said, we are distant cousins and childhood friends. We went everywhere together. Mathayus and I were captured during a minor skirmish during the Scottish Reformation when a Roman bishop robbed the local parish so he could complete the renovations on his huge church. Needless to say, it didn’t go over very well with the local people. Fer-Diorich took advantage of the chaos. Garrett was captured when he returned from university in Paris.”
Garrett nodded. “We were kept in cages in an abandoned Highland castle, but when an English lord stumbled on the castle and claimed it for his own, we were moved to a cave system near Kiel, an ancient port on the Baltic, and were there—off and on—until we escaped.”
Morgan frowned. “What do you mean off and on? Were you allowed out?”
Angel and Garrett glanced at Mathayus, who shrugged. “In a way. We were forced to serve in Fer-Diorich’s Ironclaw army.
“I hated the fighting,” Garrett’s quiet voice interrupted Mathayus. “My dream has always been to be a doctor, but as sick as my little sister was, I knew it wouldn’t be possible. The small amount of money my family made went to her care, so I did what I could. Fortunately, when I applied for university, they gave me a scholarship, but when she worsened, I returned home.”
At the mention of his sister, Garrett’s eyes seemed so sad and far away. Morgan could not imagine her life without Gwyn. She glanced at Mathayus, but his facial expression gave nothing away. Sensing his growing worry, she also noticed his pale green eyes had turned a shamrock green.
Slowly easing her hand between the chair and her leg, she flicked her fingers toward the candles throughout the library. A dozen cheery flames flickered to life, subtly sending a calming blend of vanilla, lavender, and apple throughout the ample space.
The effect was immediate. Garrett’s and Mathayus’s eyes cleared, and their large muscles relaxed. Inhaling the calming scents and letting them seep into her lungs, she breathed out the tension and anxiety she had been carrying since the fight in the square.
Garrett shook his head slightly and frowned, his gaze on the coffee table centered among the sofa and chairs. She watched his chest rise and fall with each deep breath, his shoulders slowly drooping as he relaxed.
“After she passed,” he continued, “I returned to Paris, wanting to help others in her memory. I was driven to find out what killed her, and after years of research, I discovered it had been a problem with her blood. I always thought it was her heart since it didn’t beat right, but I was wrong. Finding the cause of her death has been my raison d’être—my reason to live.”
He met Morgan’s gaze with a wry smile. “Especially through the dark times under Fer-Diorich. In the early 1900s, a physician was captured and told me about two pediatricians who discovered a blood disease they named Diamond-Blackfan anemia. It was an exact match for my sister’s ailment. What killed her, though, was what is now called leukemia.”
Morgan leaned forward and placed her hand over Garrett’s tightly clasped hands, where they rested on his legs. “I am very sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine life without Gwyn. Torin is right, though. You are all welcome here and safe.”
She squeezed his arm and smiled at the other two wolves before pulling her hand away and letting it drop into her lap. “Our mission is the same—to defeat Fer-Diorich and permanently lock him in the Unseelie Court.” “I’m glad you found us. We need all the help we can get.”
“When the rest of you arrived, it allowed us to escape the Ironclaws, who were waiting for a signal from the druids. It was as if the magic Fer-Diorich funneled to the men was momentarily broken and gave us the opportunity we had been waiting for.” Angel added. “Fer-Diorich is very close to escaping the Unseelie Court, and we can’t let that happen. His magic has grown over the centuries, and with his supporters’ help, he can maintain an almost unbreakable hold on his Ironclaw army.”
“Which reminds me,” Torin interrupted. “How is it none of you have iron-tipped claws? All those fighting for him have them—at least, those we’ve engaged.”
A few of us escaped that torment,” Garrett replied. “The iron is spelled and acts as a catalyst, driving the wolf crazy. We believe it’s either due to the spell or the Fae blood he used as a binder within the spell. All dark magic requires blood, and fresh blood was hard to come by. We were lucky. The fight at the castle began sooner than he expected, and he didn’t have time to cast the spell on us. We stayed under his radar, so we never received that particular torture.”
Angel shook his head. “That’s true, but we also had Mathayus. He’s the reason we weren’t discovered sooner. It was like we were…hidden, I guess, is a good word to describe it.”
Fáelán’s hazel gaze shifted to the large black wolf, and Morgan noticed his spark of interest toward the newcomer. She had always admired Fáelán’s unique coloring. His fur was brown everywhere except for his underside, which was gray. He also had a thin gray strip of fur outlining his face and the tips of his ears. It reminded her of a calico cat, though she would never mention that to him.
More learned than any of them, Fáelán crossed his arms over his chest. The wide sleeves of his open kimono slid down, revealing his muscular forearms. Although he was the group’s researcher and incredibly intelligent, she knew he was also as capable a warrior as the others in their small family circle. From the way he observed the three wolves, she could almost see the questions forming in his mind, both about their imprisonment and what they knew regarding the upcoming battle.
“Oh my, you have all arrived. Just in the nick of time, too.” Rhona Símons stood in the doorway, a broad smile on her timeless face.
When the ancient druidess entered the room, Morgan realized Rhona had lost weight. No longer on the plump side, her slender form moved gracefully, and from how her calf muscles bunched with each step, she also had been hitting the gym. No longer short, her curly brown hair was parted into two small braids reaching the top of her shoulders. The cute green sundress emphasized her light brown skin, and Morgan caught a slight shimmer of gold in the druidess’s pretty brown eyes.
Behind her, still standing in the doorway, stood her student, Colette, looking very uncomfortable. The pretty blond did not like being the center of attention and preferred to be in the kitchen baking her delicious treats.
That last thought gave Morgan an idea. Rising, she walked toward Colette and grabbed her hand, pulling her back into the wide hallway. “I know you don’t want to be in there any more than I do, so I have an idea. One, I think you will enjoy.”
Colette grinned. “As long as I don’t have to be in that room with so many massive wolves, I’m game. What do you want me to do?”
“How would you like to help me make my mother’s meat pie recipe?” Morgan frowned. “Actually, I think it’s Morrigan’s recipe, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s freaking delicious, and if I’m reading the three new wolves right, they’re starving and probably thirsty.”
Colette’s blue eyes sparkled. “That sounds wonderful! I can also make a large batch of chocolate chip cookies, and, using a bit of Fae magic, we can get everything done in a quarter of the time. Normally, I enjoy the human way of baking, but if I must be in a cave with starving werewolves, I’ll make the sacrifice. After Rhona finishes whatever she needs to do here, maybe she’ll let me bake a few more things once we get home.”
Morgan led her into the newly remodeled kitchen near the entrance of the caverns and pulled out the ingredients they would need. “You don’t know why she’s here?” she asked, breaking up the hamburger with her hands before kneading various spices into the meat mixture while Colette magically combined the cookie ingredients in a large bowl.
“Rhona doesn’t tell me much. She’s so used to being alone, she sometimes forgets I’m around.” She chuckled, sliding two dough-filled cookie sheets into the magically enhanced oven. “Until I make a mistake, that is. Then she remembers all too well that I’m there.”
“I’m sure you don’t make that many mistakes.”
Colette turned her doubt-filled stare to Morgan and shook her head. “Way too many mistakes. I wasn’t brought up in a magic-filled household. My parents were ordinary farmers.” She pulled out the already-baked cookies and pushed in the two more pans. “I don’t know what happened. One minute, I was in school getting ready to graduate, and the next thing I knew, I was flinging magic everywhere. No one in my family that I’m aware of has that ability.”
She pulled out the cookies and placed them in the container before turning to Morgan. “Do you need help with anything?”
Morgan shook her head and scraped the remaining meat mixture from the bowl. Using her finger, she pushed it onto the last pastry square and pressed the sides closed, encasing the yummy stuffing inside.
“When did you meet Rhona?” she asked, sliding her pans into the oven. “There. In a few minutes, we can take everything, including Torin’s beer stash, to the library.”
Turning, she leaned against the countertop and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for Colette to answer her question.
Colette smiled. “That same day. Her magic gives her an uncanny ability to know when someone comes into their powers. I would love to know how she does it.”
“It’s partly because she’s a guardian, but I think it’s because she also has Fae blood, which means she can sense magic in people. If you were stressed or upset, it would be like a beacon to her.”
Colette nodded. “I was upset. I felt as if my life had just ended. Rather dramatic-sounding, but I was young and set on becoming a veterinarian.”
Morgan’s eyebrows rose. “Really? That should be very helpful now that you are dealing with wolf hybrids. Most days, I think Rafael is more wolf than man.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I think Makari is as well—more so, even, than Rafael.”
She felt Colette’s gaze follow her as she removed the commercial-sized pans from the oven. She stacked one pan on top of the bottom, turning it sideways so the pies wouldn’t resemble pancakes by the time she got them in front of the werewolves, and topped them with the third and final pan.
“I think you protest too much,” Colette whispered next to her, holding the cookies.
“Shush. Gwyn tells me the same thing. Rafael and my aunt saved my life, so I owe him everything. We’re learning to get along, although he has trouble letting go of his male thinking and tries to wrap me up in bubble wrap.” She gripped the bottom pan, but large white paws covered hers before she could lift them.
“I thought we were behind this, pequeno,” his low voice whispered near her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck and sending shivers over her body. “I have explained this to you many times. You are new to a lot of your Fae gifts, and I would never forgive myself if you were to come to harm while learning how to use them.”
Colette inhaled next to her. “Oh, that’s so sweet.”
Morgan scowled at her. “Don’t get him started.” She turned her head toward his and immediately knew she had made a mistake as her cheek pressed against the side of his face, his soft fur caressing her skin. She closed her eyes and inhaled, breathing in his woodsy male scent, loving the evergreen fragrance that always seemed to be wrapped around him.
Forcing her head away from him, she exhaled. “Are you going to help me with this, or can you grab Torin’s beer from the cave he believes no one knows about?”
Rafael chuckled. “To see his face will be priceless. I’ll get the beer. You, my heart, are strong enough to carry these small pans…unless you get clumsy.”
With a growl, she kicked at his back leg as he turned, but he sidestepped with ease while she tried to rebalance the pans like a drunken sailor as they tilted from side to side and ignored the Spaniard’s healthy laughter as he walked down the tunnel to the chilly side cave.
“That was so romantic—and quite sexy, you know,” Colette said as she followed Morgan to the library. “You are so hard on him.”
“He’s impossible,” she said, her lips rising in a slight grin. “He does take very good care of me, though, doesn’t he?”
“The question you should be asking, Morgan, is why.”
Colette’s statement made her pause. That was the one thing she hadn’t been able to answer since waking up after her near-death. Why had he saved her? He was always so quiet and aloof, never remaining anywhere long enough for anyone to get to know him. Even while training her, he would disappear for days and return without telling her where he had been.
Somehow, over the last few months, this elusive, mysterious wolf had become important to her.
She entered the room and laid the pans on the coffee table. Colette then placed the cookie tray next to it. Morgan opened her mouth to explain what they had done, but Torin’s furious expression made her want to laugh, as did her sister’s raised eyebrows. Rafael stood behind them with the beer.
“Where…?”
Fáelán raised his paw, stopping whatever Torin had been about to say. “I think our guests and myself would appreciate a few beers, don’t you? I am sure your supply will be easily replaced the next time you venture into Tournai.” He waited for Torin’s subtle nod as Gwyn tried not to smile as she threaded her fingers through his when Rafael placed the beer box beside the food table and moved behind her.
“Now, Morgan, what delicious treats have you brought us?” Fáelán asked, leaning closer to the food and sniffing.
Morgan met her sister’s questioning gaze and nodded before sitting in her original spot, Rafael’s paw appearing on her shoulder. “These are meat pies—and one of our favorite family recipes. Our mother used to make them on Christmas Day when we were little. Morrigan did the same when she was little, although I don’t believe it was saved for just Christmas. Evidently, they celebrated any and every holiday with them.”
Mathayus’s pale green gaze turned to her. “You really are the warrior goddess’s granddaughters?”
She nodded. “We are.” She glanced around the room, her gaze touching on each wolf. “Does everyone know who we are and that Morrigan is our grandmother?”
Makari nodded and reached for a pie. “Pretty much.” He sniffed the pie and stared at it momentarily before tossing it into his toothy mouth. While he chewed, surprise filled his black eyes. “This is delicious! You’ve been holding out on us.” He popped three more into his mouth, one after the other.
Morgan scowled. “You might enjoy them even more if you chewed long enough to taste them.”
Rafael grinned and reached for one. He slowly chewed each bite, then took a quick swig of beer. “He’s right—truly delicious.”
“Will someone please explain why everyone seems to know who Morgan and I are?” Gwyn asked in a worried tone. Torin pulled her to him without speaking, cradling her as if she were as fragile as a porcelain doll.
Makari tipped up the beer bottle and drank the contents before setting it on the floor next to his chair leg. “Fer-Diorich liked to talk.” He reached for a handful of cookies, but instead of eating them, his cookie-filled paw rested on one knee. His black gaze met Morgan’s. “The Fae was obsessed with Morrigan. Getting back at her for interfering in his quest to obtain the woman, Sadhb, was the purpose behind everything he did back then. Maybe even now. It’s hard to say, but all he talked about was killing the descendants. Locked in our cages, we often heard the stories—Immortal and Ironclaw alike.”
“That’s what created the difference between you and the Ironclaws, isn’t it?” Gwyn asked. “Those who strived to protect us became Immortals, and those who wished to do the Dark Fae’s bidding became Ironclaws.”
“Yeah,” Kilian said, appearing from behind a tome-stuffed bookshelf on the far side of the room. He stopped next to his brother’s chair and glanced at the table. “I smell food.”
“Usually, none of you need a second invite when food is involved. Why are you hesitating now?” Morgan wanted to growl at them all, her frustration growing the longer they held back.
Angel tentatively reached for a pie, sniffing it a few times before biting into it. It was gone in two bites, and he grabbed a few more. “You both need to try these. They’re amazing.” He stuffed another pie in his mouth as his cousins reached for the top pan, taking the last two.
Torin placed the empty pan under the table before taking four pies from the second and handing two to Gwyn. Rafael leaned over her and grabbed a few, giving Morgan two of her own.
Holding them in her hands, she stared at their light brown crusts, but her appetite was gone. She knew she and her sister had targets on their backs, but it had all seemed hazy, like a dream. This, though, was real. These three wolves had worked under Fer-Diorich and saw the Fae’s hatred firsthand. They had come to Tournai to attack them. Maybe even kill them.
She met her sister’s worried gaze. Her eyes dropped to Gwyn’s distended abdomen as fear squeezed her heart. She would do anything to protect her twin and unborn niece and nephew... Anything.