Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(129)
And help thin that Scythe herd until it reached a stable population of zero.
Owen bowed slightly to the Cosantir and headed off to tell Gawain. He’d best keep an eye on Darcy in case those brothers of hers gave her trouble. Although…she’d done pretty good all by herself.
He smiled. He and Gawain had a fucking amazing mate.
In a corner of the increasingly crowded living room, Darcy set down another platter of food, turned, and bumped into Patrin. Fell stood right behind him.
She stiffened, feeling awkward. By the time she’d looked for them the day after the Gathering, they’d already returned to Rainier Territory. “Uh. Hey.”
“Darcy. Listen…we…I…” In frustration, Patrin ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Darcy. We were out of line.”
Fell put his hand on her shoulder. His scarred face held misery. “Sorry, chwaer.”
Looking up at him, she wondered if he ever laughed anymore? At one time, he’d had the best laugh.
“After you left that night, we talked and had to admit we wouldn’t like seeing you with any male.” Patrin gave her a rueful smile. “The old werecat told us about your guys…uh, your mates…and I guess they’re pretty close to being good enough for you. Can you forgive us?”
“Of course.” She felt their relief in the strong hugs she received. “So are you here to stay now?”
Fell shook his head.
“We’re off again.” Patrin’s dark eyes turned cold. “When we’re done, there won’t be any more”—he stopped—“I mean, eventually things will be settled, and we’ll have time to get to know each other again.”
She studied them. Their eyes were still haunted, but much of the sick despair was gone. “That’ll be good. I need you back here so I can start picking out nice females for you.”
Fell’s black stare made her grin.
“We’re so not talking about that.” Deliberately looking around, Patrin said, “You have a nice house—and we saw the barn. That was a hell of a nice job of turning it into workspaces.”
“Nice sign, too,” Fell said.
“Yeah, tinker’s a good name for you.”
She frowned. “What sign?”
“By the barn,” Patrin said.
“There’s no sign there.”
“Yeah, there is.” He opened the front door and pointed across the snowy expanse of yard.
The glossy dark wood sign was chest high, even bigger than the one on the highway. Owen and Gawain’s businesses were spelled out in elaborate lettering: “Carvings by Treharn” and “Full Moon Metalwork.”
But this new sign had another name boldly displayed above the other two businesses: “The Tinker’s Repair Shop,”
The Tinker’s Repair Shop. Even before Darcy had moved in, her mates had built her a workbench and shelving in the corner across from Owen’s. Added a worktable and chairs. Every day, more tools appeared.
Now she was official and on the sign. Her heart felt as if it was swelling in her chest.
“They didn’t tell you? Huh.” Patrin started to grin. “I could get to like them.”
A corner of Fell’s mouth actually tilted up.
“You’re both dumbasses.” She shoved Fell into Patrin and went to find her lifemates.
Owen and Gawain were standing together in the living room.
Her speed increased.
Seeing her leap, Owen braced. His powerful hands closed around her waist, and she was lifted and spun around. When he stopped and lowered her, she grabbed his shirt and wrapped an arm around Gawain’s muscular neck. And she kissed them and kissed them.
“It’s been all of fifteen minutes.” Gawain was laughing. “Did you miss us that much?”
“Don’t care,” Owen muttered. He nuzzled her temple. “I’ll take it.”
As her heart turned into jelly, she ran her hand over his cheek. For all of her days, she would delight in giving him the love he so desired. Then she gave Gawain another kiss and answered his question. “I always miss you, even after a minute. But this was because I just saw the sign. It’s beautiful.”
“Calum told me he was pleased you’ll be here to keep the town running.” Gawain tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re so fucking proud of you.”
Each beat of her heart reverberated with her happiness.
“So, during the day, we’ll work in the barn.” Owen gathered her closer. “And when work is done, we’ll be together.”
Together. Darcy’s eyes filled with tears. Her trail had been long and filled with pain and fear and grief, but somehow she’d climbed out of the shadows and into the sun.
Now, in a house filled with friends and family, she stood sandwiched between her two beloved lifemates, breathing in the scents of belonging and love.
Sometimes dreams really did come true.
The End
Daonain Glossary
The Daonain use a conglomeration of handed-down languages from the British Isles. Some of the older villages still speak the Gaelic (Scots) or Irish Gaelic. Many of the more common (and mangled) shifter terms have descended from Welsh.
Errors and simplification of spelling and pronunciation can be attributed to being passed down through generations…or the author messing up. Below are a few of the more common words and terms used by the shifters.