But each time, someone—several someones—had squeezed her hand and told her no in variations of: “No, lass. Stay human. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She shook her head. Dreams were funny, weren’t they? During some of the worst ones, she’d heard her alpha talking, telling her she was safe. Telling her not to shift—and no pack member could refuse the order of the alpha.
And she’d heard Zeb, too. His harsh voice had been almost a croon as he told her to stay in human form…and that he’d slaughter any Scythe who appeared.
Donal. Of course, Donal had been in her dreams with his resonant voice, saying she was going to be fine, and he was there. To behave and stay human. That he loved her even if she was a stubborn wolflet.
And always, always, Tynan’s Irish-accented murmurs ran through her dreams. Reminding he was there. Not to shift because he’d keep her safe. He’d always keep her safe.
“Lass, you’re awake. Finally.” Tynan walked into her room. His strained expression was replaced by a smile. He wasn’t in uniform but wore a loose cotton shirt. Over the summer, his skin had tanned, making his blue eyes seem even lighter.
His smile faded. “Lass, what’s wrong?”
“I’m so confused.” She looked around the room, and the movement made her head spin. “I don’t remember going to bed. And I’ve had so many nightmares, and I’m dizzy.”
“Ah, little wolf.” After turning on the bedside lamp, he sat beside her on the bed and gently put an arm around her shoulders. He was so solid, so warm, and she cuddled closer. “You’re still half-sedated. Do you remember that Donal was after fixing your ankle today?”
“My ankle?” Oh Gods, that’s what happened. Donal had used human anesthesia on her and re-broken her ankle so he could heal it properly.
“Ah, there, now you’re remembering.” Tynan tucked her closer.
“Margery, are you ready for some food?” Donal stood in the doorway, holding a glass and a basket.
Tynan frowned. “I thought we agreed you’d clean up the mess in the kitchen.”
“Done.” Donal gave his littermate a feline’s smug smile. “House-brownies have moved in. The kitchen is spotless.”
Brownies? “Here? We have brownies?” A burble of happiness escaped her. The small OtherFolk only came to live in homes with happy, established families. “We’re a family,” she whispered.
Tynan kissed the top of her head. “So we are.”
“Aye.” After putting the basket and glass on the bedstand, Donal sat on her other side, facing her. His silvery gaze was tired, his color pale.
With fingertips, she traced the dark circle under his eyes. “You look exhausted. What did you do today?”
Tynan chuckled. “Sedation isn’t gone yet. She’s only half-tracking.”
“I’m tracking fine.” Wasn’t she? Why did he say that?
And why was Donal tired?
Oh, wait.
Then she remembered what Tynan had said before Donal came in. “My ankle!” Her hands closed on the sheets as hope rose. “Is-is it fixed?”
Donal took her hands. “Yes, all fixed, although it took forever to piece everything together before healing the mess. We had to keep you sedated longer than I liked.”
Tynan snorted. “He’s irritable because you kept starting to shift, and he knew he’d be your first target.”
“Sorry, Donal.” At his huffed response, she giggled.
Snuggling closer to Tynan, she rubbed her cheek against his hard shoulder and winced at the ache.
Had she banged her face into something?
She touched her cheek and ran her fingertips over the slightly tender line where the long, bumpy scar used to be.
Traced it again. Found nothing. “Donal?”
“Ah…wolflet.” Worry swept his face. “The scar didn’t bother me or Tynan, but it seemed to remind you of that beating. Of the Scythe.”
The memory… The guard’s ring tearing through her skin, ripping her face open. The pain, so much pain. She swallowed and nodded.
He squeezed her fingers. “After I finished with your ankle, you still slept, and it seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good sedative. So, Tynan and I talked.”
“And I agreed,” Tynan chimed in.
She had a momentary flash of how their cubs would be, the littermates backing each other up. Standing together. She leaned into Tynan.
Donal took on his healer’s smooth tone, the one he used when he was worried. “I cut away the scar tissue. Put the new edges together and healed them. Your skin has good elasticity and—”
“You t-took the scar away.” Her eyes prickled with tears.
His expression turned panicked. “Don’t cry, Margery. By the Gods, I’ll put it back if you want. I can—”
Despite the tears streaming down her face, she was laughing. Donal flustered? Who would have thought? “No, you won’t put it back.” His face was a blur under the veil of tears. “Thank you.
“She’s happy it’s gone, Donal. Relax.” Tynan chuckled.
Tynan knew her so well.
“Meggie.” With tender fingers, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Now that you’ve terrified the healer, tell us how your ankle feels.”
Holding her breath, she moved her foot, rotated the ankle. “There’s only a bit of aching.”
“Normal for that extensive of a healing.” Donal flipped the covers back to look for himself. “Between the healing and the sedative after-effects, you’ll be sleeping a lot for the next day or so.”
Who cared about sleep?
She stared at her leg. The swelling was gone. Nothing grated inside. Hope rose inside her like a huge bubble.
Donal nodded. “Looks good, sweetheart.”
It did. It looked great. She wiggled it. “I bet I can run on it now—and dance. I want to dance.”
Donal shot to his feet and pointed a finger at her. “By Herne’s holy prick, you are not doing any dancing. Not until I tell you that it’s all right. Do you know how fucking scared I was through all this? I didn’t do this job on your Gods-benighted, busted ankle to have you ruin all my hard word with pixie-brained idiocy like dancing on a newly healed joint.”
Tynan rubbed his mouth to hide his smile…but his shoulders shook. And she burst into giggles.
Donal scowled at his brother then her. “You laugh? Laugh?”
Oh Gods, she couldn’t catch her breath she was laughing so hard. “I love you, you know.” What was he going to do when he had a litter of cubs to drive him crazy?
Huffing, he resumed his seat, leaned forward, and kissed her giggles away. “Bad wolf.”
She hugged him, then tipped her head back and kissed Tynan. “Thank you. Thank you both. For the healing and the handholding.”
For being there. For loving her.
“That’s what mates are for, Meggie mine.” Tynan picked the glass up. “If you get some fluids in you, we might let you have something sweet. Maybe.”
She took a sip of the apple juice. “One of you actually cooked a dessert?”
“Gods forbid,” Donal muttered.
Tynan lifted the basket and set it on her lap. “We have cookies of all kinds, two cakes, scones, and donuts with sprinkles.”