Vicki bumped her shoulder against Margery’s. “Your fur and fangs are welcome to fight with me anytime, anywhere.”
A lovely compliment, but Gods, the female thought guns were fun. “Oh, let’s not.”
Angie snickered and helped Margery out by changing the subject. “Since the festival is shut down here, Calum invited everyone to Cold Creek. We’ll celebrate in a safer area and have our full moon Gathering. Rainier Territory’s also playing host for anyone who wants.”
Margery felt her jaw tighten. She’d heard about Pete’s blunders. “The Colonel knows there are shifters in Ailill Ridge now.”
“And Cold Creek, for that matter,” Angie said logically. “But, unlike your Dogwood, our towns have plenty of humans, so a big sweep just can’t happen.”
“That’s why Calum’s calling for a street party this evening for humans and shifters alike. The businesses will enjoy it, and so will our human townsfolk.”
Margery smiled at Angie. “We’ll have food from the diner on sidewalk tables?”
“Exactly.” Angie nodded. “Then the Gathering will be at a lake well up into the mountains.”
Margery flinched. The Gathering. Donal and Tynan had talked about her staying, but she still had to face the concern that had sent her away. She’d have to watch them mate with other females. Every full moon.
But…she’d manage.
Donal and Tynan loved her, and she loved them.
It was enough. And on that note, she totally needed to go collect hugs and kisses from her mates.
Needy wolf.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - full moon
It was a beautiful night for an outdoor Gathering. The cool air ruffled Tynan’s fur as he trotted beside his brother up the forest trail. They were running late. Tynan because he’d had to remove roadblocks from the streets. Donal because a female had sprained her ankle when dancing.
A lot of the shifters at the festival were returning to their own territories today—the Canadians and ones from Wyoming had left near dawn. Other Daonain had accepted Calum’s invitation to visit the North Cascades Territory.
Here in Cold Creek, they’d held the ritual to return the fallen shifters to the Mother—and as the bard sang the lost home, those left alive mourned. The broken bonds to his lost packmates still ached inside his chest.
Then the town had put on a street party to restore the balance. All the residents mingled, reminding shifters that not every human was bad, that kindness crossed species—and that life went on.
Food and drink and a sunny day. Music from the humans as well as Emma and some visiting bards. Their irresistible music had pulled everyone into the street to dance. On the sidelines, toddlers and small cubs jumped and bounced to the rhythm. In the middle of the street, some of the seniors had shown off intricate dance steps.
As a precaution, the sheriff had detoured traffic away from the downtown—and no one was allowed past the guards unless they were a shifter or a local. After the Scythe attack, all Daonain territories would heighten security. But that was for the future.
The longest day of the year was over.
Tonight, they’d celebrate the full moon—Tynan glanced at Donal—and possibly the next chapter of their lives.
Anticipation and anxiety created a heady mix in Tynan’s bloodstream. His paws caught the urgency and picked up the pace.
The sound of cheerful voices drifted through the night air as he and Donal reached the lake. Someone had already lit the two solstice bonfires on the bank, and the firelight danced over the dark water.
Tynan lifted his nose, sniffing the air, catching the dark, wet scent of the lake and the resinous tang of wood smoke.
There was also the compelling fragrance of females in heat.
Because the Gathering would be held here.
Tonight, rather than restricting the Gathering to single, fertile shifters, the Cosantir also invited the lifemated and those who’d passed beyond their fertile years.
Because today and tonight were about life.
Beside Tynan, Donal dropped the bag containing their clothing. The cat hated wearing mini-packs and, instead, he’d carried the bag up the trail like a dead deer.
“Thanks.” Tynan dug out his black jeans and pulled them on. Good enough. He’d stay barefoot and bare-chested for the night.
Dressed the same, Donal grinned. “We ready?”
Tynan did a quick check of his pockets. “We are.” In the growing moonlight, his need for a female—for one incredibly special female—simmered like bubbles in his veins.
Where was she?
He spotted Heather moving around the groups as if looking for someone.
Warren raised a hand in greeting.
Breanne, Shay, and Zeb were surrounded by other lifemated members of the pack.
And there was Meggie, near the lake, looking out over the peaceful water. When a male strutted toward her, Tynan and Donal growled and stalked forward.
Near her, Calum was talking to two other Cosantirs. He spoke to the randy male, sending him off, then looked directly at Tynan and Donal.
And grinned.
“The Cosantir is poking his whiskers in again,” Donal muttered.
“I’m happy with the results.” Tynan headed straight for Meggie.
Tradition said rituals at Gatherings were done in full view of the clan. He’d have it no other way.
Donal strode beside his littermate as unexpected anxiety crept into his gut like mice into the pantry.
Maybe this wasn’t the right time. Margery would be exhausted. Stressed. What if she had reconsidered? Planned to take off and join Oliver?
He huffed a breath. “We should have done this before. Last week or something.”
Tynan gave him a disbelieving look. “You were the one who told her there would be no lifemating.”
“Well, that was stupid. You should have punched me.”
“I did.”
Donal huffed and touched his bruised cheek. “Good point.”
Damn wolf.
As Donal turned his gaze to Margery, anticipation like bright sunlight wiped out his shadowy worries.
By the Gods, she was beautiful, as peaceful as the lake. The moonlight lit her face, rippled over her rich brown hair. Her thin, tight tank top stretched over her full breasts in a way that dried his mouth.
He couldn’t imagine a time when her body didn’t send lust right through him. Or when her presence didn’t fill him with happiness.
She saw them approaching, and the flash of pleasure in her eyes lifted his heart. Then worry tensed her face. Why would she worry?
No, he knew why she was worried. She didn’t believe they wanted her, so she’d be bracing herself to keep to the Gathering traditions. No jealousy or being territorial.
It was good they could remove that worry for her.
If she said yes.
Surely, she’d say yes.
As they reached her, Donal breathed in her light floral scent, then took a knee in front of her. Tynan followed suit. Their shoulders rubbed as they looked up at their female. Ours.
Her eyes widened. “What are you…”
Tynan took the bracelets from his pocket and handed one to Donal.
Donal set the bracelet in his palm and held it up so the silver moon discs, from crescent to full to crescent, gleamed in the moonlight. He could feel the Mother’s blessing that Gawain, the blademage, had called down upon the bracelets.