Even knowing the origins of her antipathy, it burned after the comradery of the last few hours.
“No, ye will not bike home.” He raised his voice to ensure the tavern occupants were listening.
When Calum’s eyes narrowed, Tynan shot him a look. Stay out of this. The Cosantir didn’t speak—but his stillness was that of a cat ready to engage.
“You need to give your ankle a rest.” Tynan crossed his arms over his chest—drawing Meggie’s gaze back to his uniform. He tapped a finger on his badge. “I’m in charge here.”
Her body stiffened. The furious, fearful look in her eyes said she saw only his uniform, not him.
Come, little wolf. Lose your temper. He added a taunting edge to his voice. “You’re getting a ride, like it or not.”
“You don’t have any say over me.” Even as she snapped out the words, her body tensed against a blow.
“I’m your mentor. I have all the say over you.”
Buzzing filled Margery’s brain until she wasn’t sure what she was hearing. Could only see the badge on the guard’s chest.
She wanted to hit him, to kick him, and to run and run and escape the beating he’d give her.
“Margery.” The sharp authoritative tone made her take a step back.
Her fisted hands rose.
“You don’t like me.” The badge kept getting bigger.
She tried to find the calm that had worked on the guards before. “I’m sure you’re—”
“Don’t bullshit me, female. By the Gods, you don’t even see my face, only the uniform. You hate it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” The word hissed out.
“Yes, what?” He stepped forward and pushed her shoulder.
She punched his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”
No, what was she doing? Her pulse hammered, hurting her chest. She knew better, knew what he’d—
He shoved her again. Harder. “What’s the matter, little female? You going to let a uniform take over your world?”
“Stop it.” Her brain roared with anger as her vision filled with the glittering badge. Nothing else existed…just the evilness of it.
He pushed her again, making her stumble, as if to drive home she was a cripple. “What are you going to do about it?”
The taunting voice wrapped around her, drowning out everything else except the red of fury. Badge. Uniform. The guards. Hurting her. Killing her friends.
Screaming, she hit him. Hit him over and over, slamming her fists into his chest, the horrible uniform a target for every blow.
Someone was yelling, “No, no, no,” punctuating every slam of her fists—
And the person yelling was her.
Her.
She’d lost all control. Lost…everything.
Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the wide chest, not seeing the uniform, but…a chest. Tynan. A sob stuck in her throat as dismay and guilt—and loss—filled her. She’d hit the mentor who’d been nothing but kind to her.
“What’s my name, little wolf?” His voice was calm as a summer lake, the lilt of his Irish accent like white froth on the water. Where was his anger?
“Meggie. What’s my name?”
“T-Tynan.”
“Good. Say it again.”
“Tynan.” Realization swept through her, and she choked. “You did that on purpose. Wanted me to hit you.”
“Aye.”
“Bu-but why?”
“Ye need to realize a uniform is merely a piece of cloth. To look past it and see the person wearing it. Then decide if they’re evil or not.”
A sob escaped her, and his expression turned gentle. “Ah, lass.” His arms came around her, pulling her against the chest she’d been beating on.
And he held her as her world fell apart, while she could only cry.
Tynan scooped up the soft female he’d started to think might be the one to break him…because her crying was dredging aching hollows into his heart.
Fuck, he hated what he’d done, but when she’d finally looked at him and seen past the uniform, he knew he’d been right.
Even if she hated him after this.
He’d do anything to keep her safe, even from herself.
When he carried her to the fireplace sitting area, Donal moved from the couch to a chair so Meggie could be closer to the fire’s warmth.
On the other couch, Shay was still in place, although Zeb had retreated to the bar. The dark, taciturn cahir didn’t handle a female’s tears well.
In law enforcement, Tynan had dealt with more than his fair share of crying women. He envied the way they could release their emotions like springtime thunderstorms cleared away a winter’s debris.
But Meggie had more than a season’s emotions built up. Settling her more comfortably on his lap, he cuddled her close and stroked her back. There wasn’t much else a male could do than provide a safe shelter.
And there wasn’t anything more rewarding than to be that safe shelter.
The silence from the room drew his attention.
At the bar, Calum gave Tynan a measured nod. Apparently, the Cosantir had decided not to kill him and return him to the Mother.
Shay eyed him, coldly. The alpha’s nature was akin to Tynan’s—protect the vulnerable. “Those were drastic measures.”
“Drastic is the correct word.” Tynan rubbed his cheek against Meggie’s silky soft hair. The tears had stopped, and she was in the half-drowsy aftermath of violent emotions and exhaustion. “I’d hoped you were right that spending time with me in fur would help. But the minute I dressed, my badge and uniform triggered her. And I realized she was as volatile and angry as she was fearful. If she attacked a uniformed human, well…”
Shay’s mouth tightened. “I see your point.”
“So you set her off?” Donal’s scowl was directed at Meggie. “If she’d had a knife, I’d be trying to heal you—or bring you back from the dead.”
Fuck. Donal had focused on her attack, rather than the reason behind it. That wasn’t like his soft-hearted littermate. Then again, after their time apart, Donal tended to act like a cougar defending its cub.
“I checked her for weapons. It’s not her fault, Donal.” Tynan kissed the top of her head. “It’s time to call it a night and head home.”
“Yes, it really is.” Donal’s words didn’t conceal the underlying snarl. He rose to his feet, movements stiff. One cat who wouldn’t be letting down his guard.
Shay nodded. “Can you drop by the Wildwood tomorrow?” The alpha wanted his update.
“Aye. In the morning.” Tynan rose and half-smiled when Meggie startled awake.
“Tynan?” She looked up at him. Seeing him.
“I think I won the argument that you’ll accept a ride home.” He smiled down at her, keeping her in his arms. By the Gods, she fit right there…perfectly, so soft and female. “It’s not like you’re out of the way, aye?”
“Gods, you’re stubborn,” she muttered. Sighed. And whispered, “Thank you.”
Chapter Eight
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - Beltane - waning crescent moon