The Lone Wolf's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #3)(76)

“That’s blasphemy.” Abertha’s lips curve in a sly smirk.

I shrug. I never paid much attention when the elders sat us down on full moon days to drone on about Fate and the purpose of creation and the duality of our nature. I was always daydreaming, and whenever I did listen, what they said was either demonstrably untrue, or if it was true, too mean-spirited for me to get behind.

Abertha smiles. “You’re quicker than most to accept that you’ve been taught bullshit.”

“Darragh is nothing like his wolf.” And his wolf is nothing like him.

“But you don’t get one without the other.”

A spark of irritation brings me back into the moment. “I know that.” I don’t want this female telling me anything about my bond.

I hate that he has this whole past, that he’s lived this whole life, and that I have to be told about it by his friend with benefits.

“His wolf is cool with me.” It’s a stupid thing to claim, and I only say it to cover how stupid I feel.

“You’ve met his wolf in your human form?” Abertha’s eyebrows rise.

My face burns. That’s what I get for bragging that I have some kind of special connection with the mate who I hadn’t spent more than a half hour with before we were kidnapped.

“No,” I admit.

“But your wolf has met him?”

I nod.

Abertha sinks back in her chair, speculation in her eyes. “What did he do?”

“Gave me a human’s head.”

She bursts out in a cackle. “Well, that’s an auspicious beginning.” She sobers. “I wish I knew how to fix a broken wolf, but I don’t. I do know it’s foolish to think love will do it. Or wishful thinking.” She leans forward and seizes my gaze, her brief amusement gone, replaced by a hardness that sends shivers down my spine. “Don’t go near his wolf in your human skin. If his wolf kills you, he won’t survive it. Do you understand?”

I jerk a nod. I wish she would leave. I get it. She knows him. She knows his past. I don’t. He might have claimed me, but he can never be a real mate to me.

We went through hell together, and it won’t change anything. Our mating was made impossible years before I was even born.

When I don’t say anything, Abertha collects herself, rising from her chair, smoothing her skirt.

“I’ll tell him you’re feeling better. You didn’t want the healing,” she says.

I stare past her at the empty beds, lost in misery, feeling all the burns and scrapes. Abertha’s almost to the door when a question pops into my head out of nowhere.

“Hey,” I call after her. “In the basement, did his wolf kill all the females except his sister?”

Abertha stops, and for a second, I think she doesn’t want to tell me, that she might dodge the question, but then she firms her jaw and says, “None of the females died from their wounds. His wolf took out four of Declan’s lieutenants, though. It was sheer luck that none of the females were lost.”

There’s no doubt in her voice.

She sweeps out of the infirmary, and the air lightens. Kennedy, Annie, and Una hustle back in, trailed by Old Noreen and Rowan and a few other females.

I let Annie fuss over me, dabbing at the caked-on blood in my curls with a warm washcloth, promising that she’ll get it all out when we get home.

The females chatter in low tones, and my mind drifts.

Abertha is so confident, such an immense presence, that when she speaks, I believe her to my bones. But now that she’s gone, and my nerves are settling down, and I really think about what she said—

There is a whole lot of stuff she doesn’t know—like how to fix a broken wolf. What magic allowed Darragh to shift so young. What exactly is wrong with his wolf. Whether she should meddle or not.

Maybe she shouldn’t.

Maybe she knows more about Darragh than I do, but Fate gave him to me.

Even if he isn’t here.

Even if my heart breaks for what he was turned into before I was even born.





13





DARRAGH





I stare at the infirmary door from the porch of the purser’s office across the way. Females murmur amongst themselves in undertones on the lawn, clustered in front of the building where Mari’s resting. They show no signs of dispersing.

Part of me wants to get the fuck out of here.

My skin crawls when I’m this close to so many packmates. My wolf prowls the edge of the border between us, growling menacingly at the back of my throat. The females cast me anxious looks and shuffle closer to each other, but they don’t leave their self-appointed stations.

I’m exhausted. If the wolf fights me for our skin, I’m not a hundred percent sure I’ll win, and I swore years ago that I’d never risk it. I should leave, but I don’t.

Mari’s here, and she needs water and medicine. I can give her that, but she needs her packmates. She needs that comfort. I taught myself not to need the pack years ago, but I remember it. The illusion of safety. Belonging.

I want to be back in my own territory. Fuck talking to the human government and waiting to “liaison” with the other packs like Killian wants. If I can get back to where they held us, I can track the fuckers. End them. Do something.