Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(23)

“For you? Always.” Laughing, Bree headed for the kitchen.

Owen snorted. His littermate could charm pixies out of the trees and gnomes out of the sewers. When Gawain grinned at him, Owen couldn’t help but laugh. Yeah, despite the faded echo of Edwyn’s broken bond, it was good to be with his brother again. Their own bond had thinned over the years apart, but still held together. “Want to come back to my cabin when I leave?”

“Ah, about leaving…” Shay eyed Owen warily. “Calum also said you and Gawain were to mentor Darcy.”

Owen’s mouth dropped open. “Me? Mentor a female?”

When Zeb burst out laughing, Owen glared. “What’s so funny?”

“You, pigeon-brain. You insulted a female right in front of the Cosantir.” Zeb snorted. “You should have expected some fucking nasty consequences. I’d say you got off easy.”

Mentor a female. Owen’s fingers curved as he imagined clawing a nice set of stripes down Calum’s ribs. Of course, the Cosantir would kill him dead, but still…

By Herne’s holy antlers, this wasn’t fair.

*

The pillow smelled of soap and lavender. Eyes closed, staying immobile, Darcy regulated her breathing as she tried to figure out where she was.

Had the Scythe caught her?

There was no sound of traffic, no planes overhead. She wasn’t in the city. The tang of conifers perfumed the air along with the aroma of roasting meat. And she could smell one…no, two…males.

“I know you’re awake, little female. Might as well open your eyes.” The guttural voice sounded like the prìosan’s biggest chainsaw when the motor ran rough.

She knew that voice. Her muscles relaxed, and she opened her eyes. The mean looking shifter, the one called Owen, sprawled in a chair with his denim-clad legs stretched out. Very long legs. She’d heard cahirs were huge—this one sure was. His darkly tanned skin brought out the disconcerting green of his eyes. He’d shaved away the dark stubble, revealing the angular line of his jaw. Thick, dark brown hair touched his shoulders.

He shot her a sharp look. “How do you feel?”

“Well…” Her wounds no longer burned, but throbbed slightly as if bruised deep within. The rest of her ached almost as bad as the first time a guard had beat her senseless. “I’m fine.”

He snorted his disbelief. “Sure you are. You—”

“What time is it?” she interrupted hastily.

“You slept the day away. It’s after supper.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked around. A bedroom with a sturdily constructed dresser and dark wooden nightstands. The hardwood floor was covered with a beautifully woven rug. It didn’t have the smell of the healer’s house. “Where is this?”

“The Wildwood Lodge, a fishing camp that rents out cabins and a few rooms. It’s run by shifters.”

Rent? “I can’t stay here. I don’t have any money.” If she pulled the covers over her head, would the world go away?

“The room here is free for shifters in need. Don’t worry.”

Worry was all she had. How could she manage with no money? No food. She didn’t even have any clothing.

However… Her lips curled up slightly.

“What are you smiling about?”

He sounded so grumpy. The male needed an attitude readjustment, as the human girls would have said.

“Because, even though I’m broke, at least I can turn into a cougar. With the infection gone, I’m sure I can figure out how to hunt and feed myself.” Her smile widened. As a cougar, she could head toward the mountain range where the shifter-soldiers had their compound. Eventually, she’d find them.

“The Hunter should just trample me now,” Owen muttered.

“What?” Just looking at him took her breath away, as if the lethal grace of his cougar had somehow translated to his human form. But, from his irritated expression, someone should fetch the male some coffee or something.

“Listen, female, you’re not to go into the forest by yourself.” He rose and paced around the room. “Calum assigned me and Gawain to mentor you while you get control of your shifting. We’ll teach you to hunt and how to be safe in the wilderness.”

Exactly what she needed. Yet no lessons were more important than saving her brothers and the others.

She waved her hand in the air, although doubting the cahir would shoo off easily. “I’m sure I can figure it out, and I won’t be here anyway. I have to leave now.” When his frown grew, she added a belated, “But thank you, anyway.”

The deep rumbling laugh came from the doorway. Gawain carried in a tray of food. “Guess she told you, brawd.” He set the tray on a table near the bed. “Let’s get you sitting up so you can eat.”

Without waiting, he leaned over and, with his hands under her arms, pulled her up to a sitting position. His hands were powerful, and the easy strength he displayed took her breath away. Compared to him, the Scythe’s human guards were underfed rabbits.

When he picked up the tray, she shook her head. Her bladder had set up an urgent demand. “I need to…um, use the—” How in the world did non-prisoners talk about…needs?

“The what?” Owen demanded.

Gawain laughed. “Brawd, you’ve got to get out of your cabin more. She wants the bathroom.” He put a long arm around her waist and lifted her out of the bed and onto her feet. The covers stayed on the bed.