Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(119)

Behind the Wild Hunt Tavern, she loped up the outside steps to the second floor where Vicki lived with her mates.

Alec let her in. “Hey, Heather. They’re in Vicki’s room doing those exotic things you females like to do during your Gathering pregame.”

“You are so full of it.” With long familiarity, she punched his arm. Back when they were cubs, Alec and Calum had run with Heather’s littermates…with Heather trying to keep up. She’d never succeeded, and not because she was female, but because Alec and Calum were tricksy cougars and her brothers were bears.

A single wolf rarely won if going one-on-one against bigger, stronger felines and bears. Seemed like she still owed Alec and Calum a few sneaky pranks as payback.

Giving her an easy grin, Alec handed her a beer and waved her toward Vicki’s bedroom. “Got a new female in there for you to take in hand.”

“So I hear. Darcy, right?”

And why would that question make the big cahir laugh?

Heather tapped on the door and heard Vicki call, “Come.”

Tears prickled Heather’s eyes with her relief. Her friend’s voice was still strong and unchanged. She’d survived a violent kidnapping and kept right on going.

That’s one tough kitty. Heather’d liked the younger female the moment they’d met. Vicki might be a cat, but her style was as blunt and straightforward as Heather’s.

Entering, she gave a quick glance around the room. Bree and Emma were on the bed, Angie in the armchair, and a black-haired female by the dressing table. Vicki sat in a new rocking chair with…with…

“A cub?” Heather rubbed her face, afraid her eyeballs were protruding from her skull. “You had…”

Vicki wore an evil feline smirk. “Three babies, no less.” She nodded at the bed. “That’s Toren.”

The blanket in Bree’s lap held a baby. A tiny, tiny baby. Even as Heather’s fingers twitched, desperate to hold the cubling, her belly felt empty. Barren. Although her moon-courses were still steady, so many, many years had passed without life kindling within her that she’d given up hope.

Her expectation of finding lifemates had also died.

And those weak, useless emotions had no place in this room. It was time to rejoice with her friend. “Three cubs? Truly the clan increases.”

Vicki’s gaze was gentle. The observant cat had undoubtedly noted Heather’s momentary despair. During several Wild Hunt evenings, they’d indulged in tongue-loosening brews, and Heather had perhaps shared more than was wise.

Because Vicki was the sister of her heart if not blood.

Beside Bree, Heather leaned down to touch the cub’s tiny hand. “Toren, may the Lord and the Lady bless you with courage and a life filled with love,” she said softly.

In the armchair, Angie cleared her throat. “Heather, this is Artair.” She drew back the blanket to reveal a beautiful cubling with brown eyes.

Heather brushed her fingertips over his soft round cheek. “Artair, may the Lord and the Lady bless you with strength and a joyful heart.”

She turned to Vicki. “And who do you have?”

Her friend’s lips curved. “You ran with Alec and Calum as a child. You were one of my first friends here, taking the time to explain all these fucking Daonain traditions and helping keep me sane.”

Inexplicably, Heather found her throat was tightening.

“So, speaking of traditions, Calum and Alec say the custom is to do this with the first meeting.”

“Do what?” Heather frowned. Maybe Vicki had spoken too soon about being sane.

“Heather,” Vicki rose and handed Heather the golden-haired infant she held. “Heather Sutharlan, this is Sorcha whose name means radiant. Here is a cub for your arms and your heart to hold. Will you serve as her caomhnor?”

“Oh.” Oh my Goddess. Heather’s escaping breath carried joy. Sang of her acceptance. And as she gathered Sorcha closer into her arms, she felt a sweet aching tug deep within her chest as the new bond of love settled in place.

As the ancient words came to her, her voice was thick and full of tears. “Aye. I will serve as her guardian-protector, teaching her and loving her for as long as my heart beats and the blood flows in my veins.”


Darcy felt tears spilling down her cheeks at the joy in Heather’s face. At the peace in Vicki’s expression as she patted Heather’s arm and resumed her seat.

Bree and Emma were sniffling.

Angie’s eyes were damp, but she lifted her glass of wine. “To cublings. The clan increases.”

Everyone lifted their glasses. “The clan increases.”

Wakened by the noise, Toren kicked up a fuss about wet diapers, and by the time he was changed, everyone was settled again. Emma made the rounds with more wine.

As Darcy sipped hers, she gave a happy sigh. Celebrations and family and babies.

And wasn’t it simply amazing to be free and able to drink wine, dress up, and gossip? Like a normal female.

She smiled at Heather who was still snuggling Sorcha. The female from Rainier Territory was around five-eight and slender with a thick mass of red-brown hair held back in a braid. She wore nice jeans, a snug golden top, and expensive cowboy boots.

Seeing Darcy, she smiled, open and comfortable. “You must be Darcy. Welcome to the Territories.”