MacRieve

TWELVE

“Let’s see Daughter of Webb!” Rónan exclaimed when Will and Munro stormed into the lodge—covered in dried blood and with company.

“I suppose everyone knows?” Will said, adjusting his bundled mate in his arms.

“We saw the forces mustering to protect her,” Ben quietly said. “Got Madadh to tell us what was going on.”

One phone call had mobilized hundreds of Lykae at the wall and outside their lodge. It wasn’t every day that a member of the clan found a mate, especially not one in such danger.

Getting through the handful of enemies who’d gathered on the other side of the wall hadn’t proved too challenging. A centaur had attempted to ram them, which had only resulted in it decorating the Range Rover’s grille for precious, thrilling seconds.

But Will knew they’d keep coming, increasing their numbers.

Rónan said, “I thought you two would come home hours from now, reeking of nymph perfume and covered in grass stains. Now you’ve got a mate? Is Daughter of Webb drunk?” In a deadpan tone, he added, “Like seeks like, huh? But I’m no’ judging.”

Smart-arse.

Will gazed down at Chloe’s pretty face, again thinking that her color was returning. Could she rebound from blood loss this quickly? “She’s no’ drunk. She was injured tonight. And she has a name—Chloe MacRieve.” Had his shoulders gone back? Bloody hell, they had.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, gentlemen,” Rónan said. “Because I just had a sweet protection spell installed on the lodge. No one who means us harm can enter.”

Munro crossed to the window, raising his hand against it. “I sense something’s here.”

“What?” Will hugged Chloe tighter. “We doona use spells and magic,” he snapped, well aware that he’d just used spells and magic.

But not here. And never again. Slippery slope and all that.

Munro said, “The spell might help us. At least the Pravus won’t be able to simply trace inside and steal her.”

“I purchased it from this young, beautemous witch.” Rónan sighed. “Ach, you would too if you saw her. Legs for miles, goes by the name of Belee. She sells spells door-to-door like Girl Scout cookies. Put me down for five thousand boxes of Thin Mints, you know what I mean?”

Munro narrowed his eyes. “Witchcraft is what you used Will’s credit card for?”

When Chloe stirred against him, Will turned toward the stairs, keen to put her in his bed for the first time. Munro followed, the boys hurrying up the stairs behind them.

On the way up, Will remembered the hazmat condition of his room. The squalor. For the second time tonight, his neck heated.

He couldn’t stand the idea of laying her on those sheets. Where to take her? The guest rooms were directly beside the boys’, which wouldn’t do. He could swap rooms with Munro, as they had shirts, or use the smaller room adjoining this one—but the wolf in him wanted his mate in his bed.

As they approached the thick oak door, Will braced himself—

His room was . . . spotless? He swung his head around to his brother.

“What?” Munro leaned against the doorway, looking like the Godfather. “I made a call from Loa’s. You still have to get Chloe to like you. Saw no reason to load the dice against you from the outset.”

Always having his back. “Appreciated.” Will laid Chloe on the bed, covering her with another blanket.

“Now, get yourself cleaned up too,” Munro said. “I’ll watch her.”

Will hesitated to leave her for even a second, but he had blood all over him. “Aye, then.” He raced for the shower, ripped off his pants, then sloshed cold water over himself until the worst was removed. Less than two minutes later, he returned in a towel.

Munro motioned to Will’s closet. “Clean clothes in there.”

Will rooted for garments. He’d never cared about looking good; all his clothes were worn. He selected his least-frayed pair of jeans and his nicest button-down.

Rónan asked, “So is this a like-father, like-daughter situation? Is she also into slicing and dicing Lykae?”

From inside the closet, Will answered, “She dinna know about the Lore, has never harmed any immortals.”

“Beauty.”

Once dressed—it is what it is—he returned to the bed and sat beside her. “When she wakes, we need to ease her into this.” Will stared down both of the boys. “If I so much as spy a hint of your beast . . .” He trailed off, the threat clear.

“You are worried about us beast-wise? Good one, Head Case.” Rónan sat on the opposite side of the bed to study Chloe. “I have to say, well done, chief. If being cute were a crime, she’d get the chair. Is she going to be doing the cooking and cleaning? Man, I hope she can cook.”

Ben smacked him on the back of the head. “Mayhap you should be more concerned about whether she’ll recover or no’?”

“She’ll be fine,” Will quickly said. “She’s on the mend.” Aye, her color was better. In fact, her skin now looked sun-kissed. From days spent on the field?

Now that the worst of his worry had faded, he had new ones to contend with, namely those sexual hang-ups of his. The most unusual? Will unleashed his beast whenever he fucked—something no Lykae did outside of a mate’s bed on the night of a full moon.

If any Lorean female ever wondered what it was like to be a wolf’s fated one, to be taken by the beast under the light of the moon, Will had showed them. The girlfriend experience? Try the mate experience.

Or at least, he’d shown them a brutal, debauched rendition of it.

Ruelle had molded Will to have sex a certain way, and in nine hundred years, he’d never been able to refashion himself. For Will, every night was the night of the full moon.

If he took Chloe in that state, she wouldn’t survive the size and strength of his body, his rising beast. She wouldn’t survive his Lykae claiming bite. Much less all of that together. . . .

He gazed up at Munro, who must have sensed his disquiet. His brother’s slow nod and steady gaze said, We’ll get through this. Keep your head.

As ever, it helped.

Rónan leaned down until he was almost nose to nose with Chloe. “I’d even go so far as saying she’s as pretty as Belee. Though this one’s got more of an I-eat-testicles-for-breakfast kind of rock-star look about her. Hey, speaking of hot arse, now that you’ve got a woman, can I inherit the pornucopia I found stashed in here—”

Chloe head-butted Rónan, who howled with pain.

Before Will could register his surprise, she’d darted to her feet and sprinted away from them.