“All right then.” There were days that life simply wasn’t fair. The air was scented with the potent fragrance of fertile females. Shifters were already heading to the mating rooms upstairs. And he had to leave. “The mangy, sprite-brains are going to get a healer grumpier than a burrowless gnome.”
Rebecca burst out laughing. “They’ll deserve anything you say.”
With a sigh, Donal nudged Tynan’s shoulder. “Don’t wait for me, brawd. Go let the little banfasa know she’s desired.”
“All right.” Tynan nudged back, sympathy in his gaze. “Perhaps this is better—for her. She’s still new to Gatherings. Two-on-one might be best saved for later. There will be other nights.”
Trust Tynan to find the good in a situation.
Donal followed Rebecca out.
Really, shouldn’t I claw the stupid fairy-farts just a little? For their own good?
Under the power of the full moon, Margery had dutifully mated with one shifter, then another. Mother’s breasts, but it was embarrassing to realize she didn’t even remember their names.
Back downstairs, she found herself at the bar, standing like a fool as sensations swirled around her. The forest scent of shifters was intensified by the masculine musk of so many males. The rumble of their deep voices created a captivating song.
However, her body was satisfied enough…at the moment…that she could tell she was thirsty. And look, she stood at the bar. How convenient was that?
The Cosantir was working, serving drinks as needed, and watching the interactions of his clan. Occasionally, amusement would flash over his face.
Although he must feel the moon’s effect as much as anyone else, he never looked uncomfortable or impatient. The territory’s guardian had amazing control.
Turning, he spotted her and walked over. “Banfasa, might I get you something to drink?”
Being given the respectful title by the Cosantir sent pride rushing through her. “Yes, please.” However, she’d never learned to like the alcoholic stuff. “Do you have any fruit juice?”
“Apple, cranberry, and orange.”
“Oh, apple would be wonderful.” Her favorite.
When he set the glass in front of her, she drank it down within seconds. “Thank you.”
Plucking the glass from her, he refilled it and leaned against the bar top. “I was hoping to speak with you tonight.”
Alarmed, she took a step back. What had she done wrong?
No, she’d done nothing wrong. Don’t scurry off the trail at a few crackles of the brush. She swallowed. “Of course, Cosantir. Your will.”
“Donal is pleased you agreed to work with him tending our people’s health.”
Oh, by the Mother, Donal had said that to the Cosantir? Sweet happiness rushed through her. “I’m pleased, as well. To be of value to the clan would be…” The most wonderful thing she could imagine, but she couldn’t say something so emotional.
His severe expression lightened with his smile. “He said you want to continue serving meals at the diner, but also work as a banfasa.”
“The diner is a wonderful way to meet people.” And she couldn’t afford to quit. Sometime soon, she’d have to talk with Donal about money. “And it pays the bills.”
“Aye, Donal mentioned your treatment in Rainier Territory. It’s not how things are done here.”
The Cosantir looked pissed, and his eyes darkened.
Shifters standing at the bar were edging away.
As Calum pulled in a slow breath, his eyes returned to gray—and he continued. “In most territories, a shifter who provides essential services to the clan receives a stipend, the amount dependent on the time they put in. Most, like cahirs, work other—regular—jobs.”
She nodded. Alec was the county sheriff. Shay and Zeb ran the Wildwood Lodge.
“Donal has no other job—he already puts in too many hours as a healer. I’m pleased you’ll give him a chance to cut back.”
The thought of making Donal happier was simply lovely. She’d seen how hard he worked. Seen the lines in his face that disappeared when he laughed.
Calum said, “Until we know how much time your banfasa work requires, I’ll start you at the minimum amount. If you provide me your bank account number, I’ll get automatic deposits set up.”
“Automatic deposits?”
“Aye. Vicki is slowly dragging us into the current century.” He glanced toward the fireplace where his mate sat, then smiled at Margery. “Donal also said he likes having you next door. Something about his sensitive ears?”
“Oh, that. He hates when pups cry or scream—and he’s started sending someone over to fetch me.”
Calum snorted. “The cat is the most skilled healer I’ve ever met and has the least amount of patience.”
Margery slapped her hands over her mouth to smother her laugh. Fail.
Totally not upset, Calum grinned. “Would you like to continue to live in Leo’s house? Rent-free?”
She squeaked like a pup smelling milk. “Yes! That would be wonderful.”
He inclined his head. “Then we are in balance for now and will reevaluate in a few moons.” After another quick smile, he moved down the bar to deal with a rowdy group of thirsty males.
Margery wrapped her arms around herself. She’d get money, maybe not much, but real money for being a banfasa, and a house to herself.
This was the best week ever. Donal saying he needed her help. Tynan kissing her. Cookies for doing what she loved to do. Friends who saved her a place at a Gathering. A house.
She shivered in delight, wishing only that she had someone to share her good news with.
And then…
“Meggie.” Tynan stood beside her. He wore jeans and a blue shirt that matched the stunning color of his eyes. Eyes that were now alight with interest and amusement. “You look like the wolf that caught the breakfast bunny.”
“I totally caught the bunny.” She bounced on her toes. “The Cosantir is going to give me a stipend and let me stay in Leo’s house.”
“There’s good news.” He ran his fingers through her hair, and just like that, her body melted, simply melted.
Whatever look was in her face drew him closer until she could feel the heat of his muscular body. Breathe in his woodsy scent.
How could parts of her tighten in need while other parts felt like a molten lake?
She set her hand on his chest and felt the rock-hard muscles tense under her palm.
“Meggie.” He put his hand over hers, holding her to him. “And I have to ask now, lass, if you’d like to go upstairs and celebrate your good news?” The lilting Irish of his rich voice was a siren call of wicked desire.
The blue in his eyes captured her, like falling into a warm sunlit lake.
She tried to regain her footing. “Celebrate? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
His quick smile lit his face, and he rubbed his cheek against hers. “With you? Aye, and it will be a celebration.”
When he swept her into his arms, she squeaked and grabbed his shirt.
Chuckling, he carried her up the stairs and pushed open the door to one of the tiny mating rooms. This one had no fireplace, and the cool air brushed against her heated skin.