Chapter 40 Lowell
Lowell
Twenty-seven days till the Hunter’s Moon
“Fuck me, that option is unwelcome,” Lowell muttered once Thane had finished recounting his adventure in the Helter.
Lowell himself had paced this study for hours the night before, waiting for his king to return, doing his best not to imagine the worst. Thane’s last instructions had been brutal.
Now it turned out that the demon-witch had appeared on Thane’s perilous mission but had escaped before the king’s battle with wendigos.
Lowell sank back in his customary chair before Thane’s desk. “You’re no’ actually considering this portal, are you?”
Thane swirled the untouched whiskey in his glass. “I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”
Lowell exhaled hard. A king coolly talking about abandoning his kingdom—what next?
And Lowell was already having a shite day.
After two nights away from his witch, he was twitching, craving the volatile chemistry that made everything else seem dull and gray.
Even Craigdúr’s sunset over the Twilight Sea failed to stir him.
Thane continued, “In the mortal realm, she’d be safe from her own coven. And mayhap the Skein is dying, the ship sinking.”
Word had come this morning of another crop failure in Umber.
For a fleeting moment, Lowell imagined taking Meera through that portal—starting over, away from all this—but reason quickly snuffed the thought.
Even if he could leave behind his pack, he could never leave his large family.
“If the ship’s sinking, then we patch the hull and start bailing.
We canna all cram through that rift. We canna found yet another settlement. ”
Thane canted his head. “Could we no’?”
“You going to bring the witches too?”
“Does it no’ bear discussion? A king’s pack united with his mate’s people? What could be simpler than life among humans?”
“We’re never supposed to go back, remember? We got kicked out for a reason. Lykae might be able to control ourselves or head to isolated territories, but the witches used to prey on mortals, selling them potions and karmic misery.”
“You speak to me about duty to my people, but I have the same duty to protect my mate. Above all things, a Lykae safeguards his female and offspring.”
“This pack will provide the most protection in the long run. So protect it first.”
Unable to deny the logic, Thane stared out the window, as if weighing centuries instead of sentences. He didn’t appear to register the sunset either.
Lowell leaned forward. “Can you commit to me that you will no’ use the portal?”
After a moment, Thane said, “I’ll keep searching for a way to be with Ditch, but I will no’ abandon my pack. Will you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You speak harshly of the witches, and yet you see the assistant as often as you can.”
No’ the same. “She’s different. She’s no’ a cannibal, for one thing.”
Thane set down his glass with a precise movement. “Mind yourself, friend. That’s your queen you speak of.”
“You’re right.” Where is your head, Lowell? “I apologize.”
“If Meera’s no’ divulging much, why see her so often?” Thane asked, tension leaving his shoulders.
Lowell sipped his whiskey and admitted, “She’s like a never-ending bone I’ve got to chew.”
“I’m sure she would love that comparison.” Thane’s gaze landed on his jogging leg.
Lowell stilled it. “Nay. And she’s a prickly one. But gods, her temper spices our encounters.” They needled the ever-loving shite out of each other. Lowell’s mouth curved despite himself. “I canna help but think she’s the one.”
“The one?” Thane said. “There’s only one one. And you stayed in your post on the night of the full moon instead of running to her. I’ve never met anyone mated who had to wonder if they were. You saw how I reacted.”
“As if you’d been booted in the bollocks,” Lowell said. “But mayhap things are different for me. I’ve never had trouble controlling my beast, never struggled with a wolven temper or unruly curiosity. Mayhap my matehood will lack fanfare and drama.”
“Mayhap?” Thane gave a soft laugh, but there was steel beneath it. “There’s just no doubt. When you find your mate, you will be thunderstruck, rocked to the core of who you are—because in that moment, who you are changes utterly, formed anew by that interlocking soul. It is no’ subtle, friend.”
“What if I’ve lost my heart to this lass outside matehood?”
“I’ve never heard of that either. How do you know she’s no’ spellbinding you?”
“Doona.” But he didn’t believe that. Meera had much to attract him. Her wit, her watchful eyes, her prickly feelings. The way she screamed her pleasure against his palm as her cunny clenched and drenched his fingers. What wasn’t attractive about her?
Thane pressed, “Spellbinding is a likelier scenario. Ditch warned us she’d use enchantresses this Accession. She would absolutely send one to seduce you.”
“I barged into Meera’s life. She wanted nothing to do with me at first.”
“Hmm.” How could one hummed syllable carry such disbelief? “How much do you tell her?”
“I learn more than I reveal. And I never speak of our history.” Straegan’s.
How am I going to contain two alpha wolves during the Hunter’s Moon? He had some ideas, would sort it out later. For now, he glanced at the setting sun, ready to sprint for the Witchwood, headlong toward pulsing friction. For two nights, he’d been denied Meera. No longer…
“Lowell.”
“Huh?”
“Your mind’s wandering. You give me less than your full attention even on such a subject?” Thane was getting irritated. That didn’t often happen.
“Apologies, my liege. This is an important subject.” What had Thane said? “Please continue.”
“Since the portal will open on the night of the moon, we will no’ be able to depend on Nothrior for containment.”
“I’ve already thought about that. We’ll pull alpha warlairds from the outer villages, the strongest Lykae available. I’ll send missives tonight.” After he saw Meera.
“Are you wolf enough for that job?”
“Of course.” Lowell straightened, unaccustomed to this kind of doubt. He’d proven himself again and again, earning his position as right hand. “As ever, I’m up for whatever the kingdom needs.”
“Ditch is sending two containment spells to reinforce the cages.”
Lowell blinked. “Pardon? We’re to trust an enemy faction’s magic?”
“She’s motivated to keep me and Straegan imprisoned. If I show her trust, she might return it. It’s a risk, but I’m no’ exactly swimming in options. Straegan nearly broke free outside the moon’s pull.”
The prince had dented bermetal bars as if they’d been twigs. “Verra well. We’ll trust magic.” Had Lowell really just said that?
Thane nodded. “Aye then. I’ve much on my mind. We’ll speak more come morning.”
Lowell stood at once, leaving half a glass of the finest whiskey in the Skein, which Thane would have to notice. As he turned, he forced himself to appear casual, taking measured steps toward the door.
“One more thing.”
Lowell paused, gritting his fangs before turning back. “Aye?”
Thane’s eyes glimmered blue as he said, “Take a week off from your witch. I’ll have Jastorgh send your regrets.”
Lowell froze. “My liege?”
“A cooling-off period will clarify your feelings as nothing else will. Concentrate on kingdom affairs for now. I need you sharp for our preparations.”
A week? Fucking hell. He opened his mouth to argue, but every defense sounded desperate in his mind.
I need her. Think I’m falling for her. Matehood is no’ for me. What she and I share is different from anything a Lykae has ever experienced before.
It’s better.
More…evolved.
Thane’s gaze searched Lowell’s face, waiting for his reply.
Lowell swallowed the protest and forced a nod. “Of course. If that’s your will.”
He could make it a week.
He could.
Outside, the castle’s battlements blazed with dying light and sea spray. Lowell crossed the courtyard, boots echoing on wet stone, the scent of the Witchwood drifting faintly on the wind—moss, smoke, a whisper of her skin. His pulse thudded harder with every breath.
He told himself to turn toward his office. Toward duty.
Instead, he prowled the castle, mentally charting the path to her through the dark.
A week, he thought grimly. I’ll never last one night.