Grinning, Jody nudged Margery. “Wanna team up and take Van down?”
Still seeing Tynan falling, dying, Margery had to force herself to smile. “Sounds good.”
Her gaze returned to the rise where Tynan was coming back from the dead. She couldn’t keep from scrutinizing his clothing for blood, watching his expression for signs of pain.
When had he come to mean so much that the mere thought of him being hurt was intolerable?
Oh, she was in so much trouble.
Chapter Eighteen
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - waning crescent moon
Tynan sniffed the air, breathing in the aroma of steak on the grill. Wildwood Lodge’s Sunday party had chosen a menu that shifters would love. Meat and lots of it.
Although he’d never say no to one of Bree’s desserts.
Since his alpha was stuck manning the grill, Tynan took him a beer. “Anything you need me to do?”
“Thanks—and nope.” Shay smiled. “Enjoy your day off.”
“Will do.” Who wouldn’t enjoy a sunny afternoon and a party of shifters having fun?
He dodged two teenaged cubs on their way to the soccer game, sidestepped a bevy of females comparing notes about a well-endowed male, and paused at the chess table where Thorson was locked in battle with the blademage Gawain.
Gawain was winning, much to Thorson’s annoyance.
Every other Sunday during summer, the lodge held a party—one that drew the humans and Daonain in the community together. It was difficult to classify someone as “other” after sharing a beer and laughing together at youngling antics.
Considering the carousing on the mini-playground Zeb had built, there was more than sufficient youngling activity to enjoy.
Tynan spotted Meggie applying a bandage to little Luke’s knee and giving him a hug…which he enthusiastically returned. Tynan smiled. She said her contentment came from being surrounded by people she could help. Being accepted.
He understood her right down to the core. Those were his needs as well.
Being loved, now that would be a bonus for him, but he was hoping…
For nearly a week, she’d spent evenings and nights with him and Donal, leaving early in the morning to make breakfast for herself and Oliver.
A glance ascertained that Oliver wasn’t at the lodge party.
Tynan shook his head. He’d invited the male to join him for a drink or a forest run and had been turned down. Same with Donal. Was Meggie’s littermate merely antisocial—or was he resentful they were taking up his sister’s time?
Either way, they weren’t going to back away from Meggie.
As Meggie took Luke back to his father, Tynan watched, remembering the feeling of her soft body against his. How she’d so easily become an important part of their lives. Talking about her day’s adventures and getting him and Donal to share theirs. Teasing Donal about what she called his bedside manner. Even sex was different—special—maybe because this time they were with a female who really cared about them. Yes, they shared something.
And eventually, the three of them should talk about the future. Because Donal had fallen as hard as Tynan had.
Who knew falling could be so pleasant?
Smiling, Tynan wandered across the patio.
In a grassy stretch by the creek, teens were playing a vigorous game of pounce and tackle. Their agemates, Hector and Lysander, watched from the sidelines.
“Didn’t they let you join in?” Tynan asked.
“They would, but Mama said no.” Lysander turned up sad brown eyes. “The healer said if he caught me doing anything strenuous or climbing again, he’d rebreak my leg for free.”
“Ah.” The accidents from the newest teen craze—treeways—had sent Donal into more than one shouting fit, especially when the injured were non-feline shifters. “Why in the Hunter’s forests would dogs be climbing trees? Or bears be leaping from branch to branch? Frost-bitten sprites show more sense.”
“That grumpy healer probably never climbed a tree in his life,” Hector—a werecat—said under his breath.
Tynan covered his laugh with a cough. “Actually, Donal loves climbing. Over the years, I’ve busted quite a few bones trying to follow.”
“You?” Hector stared, then flushed, belatedly remembering Tynan was Donal’s littermate.
Grinning, Tynan caught Shay’s attention, motioned to the two lads, then at Shay’s grill and pantomimed flipping a burger.
The alpha nodded.
“Watching people play is boring, so how about something else? If you ask nicely, Shay’ll teach you how to grill burgers. You know…the cooks get special treats from Bree.”
“Seriously?” Lysander brightened. Teen bears were always starving. “Thank you!”
Hector watched his sibling head straight for the grill. “Thanks, Deputy. He’s been kinda unhappy—and we’ve always wanted to learn to grill.”
As the pup followed Lysander, Tynan nodded in satisfaction. The lads were Gather-bred, their mother raising them on her own while working as a grocery clerk. Hector had recently apprenticed to Owen to learn to carve, but Lysander hadn’t found anything yet.
Lacking a goal… It was a tough place to be. Although Donal had always known his path in life, Tynan hadn’t found his own trail until years later in Ireland.
Raised voices drew his attention. A cluster of male wolves in their twenties, Herne help him. He veered that direction.
“Chad was tossed out of the pack like a chewed-up bone. He deserved better.” Fyodor, one of Chad’s friends, scowled at the group around him.
“I know you thought his shit didn’t stink.” Fyodor’s littermate, Emil, crossed his arms over his chest. “But, bro, Chad’s an asshole. No female was safe around him.”
“Shay and Zeb warned him and Patrick over and over. Patrick got smart; Chad didn’t.” Warren curled up a lip in a snarl. “It’s wrong to bully the females. Good males protect them, not rough them up.”
“It’s the females’ fault. Chad only gave them what they were asking for.” Fyodor stopped when he noticed Tynan was listening.
“Interesting notion,” Tynan stood close enough to loom over the lad. “I guess if I backhand you into the creek, I could say you asked for it?”
Fyodor went pale, then red.
“Fair question.” Warren snickered. “At least Fyodor deserves getting pounded on—more than any of the females Chad pushed around. The puny asshole did it cuz hitting someone littler and weaker made him feel bigger.”
“Like that wasn’t obvious,” someone else said from the back. “A male who picks on a female is completely gutless. Lower than a coyote.”
Fyodor looked like a badger had bitten his nose. Or like he’d had a revelation. Seems he hadn’t realized the cause of Chad’s aberrant behavior.
Fyodor might be salvageable, though. Maybe with some long runs and forest talks, Tynan could get the pup back on the right trail.
For now, Tynan pointed toward Breanne who was struggling with a huge platter. “Our alpha female looks exhausted. Since you’re stronger than she is, can you help get the food out of the kitchen?”
“Sure,” Warren said.