Morgan sat back, listening to everyone’s questions and her sister’s responses. She was glad her sister had finally told Torin about the baby. She watched him hover over Gwyn, refilling her cup with water and covering her legs with a small blanket. In fact, he never left her side. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. He would drive me crazy!
She heard a low chuckle and glanced around, but no one was near her. She walked over to the side table where Fáelán had left the wine bottle and paused in front of it, wondering if the immortal werewolf researcher-slash-librarian had any more wine. She looked around. No one had even noticed her. Maybe she could just take the bottle and get really, really drunk.
She was tired and worried about what would happen during Beltaine. If she was going to be truthful with herself, she was terrified. Fáelán seemed confident in their plan, but she couldn’t shake her worries. Her grandmother was the psychotic goddess of war for gods’ sake, yet even she couldn’t break the curse against her family. She looked at the wine bottle and then back at her empty goblet again.
“Would you like some more, my dear?”
Morgan jumped, her hand splayed across her chest. She scowled at Fáelán’s wolven features, his black lips pulled back in a wolfy grin as he stood beside her. For a canine, he was quite handsome.
She would give the Dark Fae that much; he knew how to create a new and incredible species. Each wolf stood over a head taller than her, at least six feet, and a couple were closer to six and a half feet tall. Their fur was a variety of shades from Makari’s black, Torin’s dark brown, to Fáelán’s dark gray coat. It was Rafael’s pure white fur that drew her interest. He was magnificent.
“I don’t know if I should. I’m afraid if I started, I wouldn’t stop.”
“Nonsense. You are more than welcome to drink as much as you like. However, I should warn you that it is potent. Two hundred years potent.” He chuckled.
“Two hundred! Just how old are you?” She closed her eyes and held up her hand. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Again, she heard a low chuckle, which seemed only inside her head since no one else noticed.
She casually glanced around. Someone here had a sick sense of humor, trying to scare her with the current threat surrounding her and her sister. She watched everyone, noting their movements, glances, or strange expressions, but she didn’t see anything unusual.
With her head lowered, taking tiny sips of wine, she stared across the room at Rafael, who was still a stranger to her. Everyone else had welcomed her and Gwyn, talked with them, and occasionally checked up on them. But not Rafael.
After grabbing her and scaring her to death when she’d first arrived, he’d kept his distance and hadn’t spoken to either one of them, except maybe one or two words here and there. She knew he and Makari had been searching for Fáelán’s brother, but at least Makari still tried to be somewhat social, which was noticeably awkward for him.
Who are you? She stared at his silvery white fur, the coat completely unmarred by any other color. He was a stunning wolf. She would have thought he was an angel—if he didn’t have fur or a long muzzle. Or a pirate. The silver dangle in his ear was unique but a nice touch. She wondered what the silver bracelets around his ankles and wrists were for.
No, mi amor. I am not the angel type.
So, you can talk… Hey! I didn’t invite you into my head.
Then don’t think so loud.
She scowled at him. I didn’t know I was screaming my thoughts. Why have you been so antisocial?
From across the room, his silver eyes met hers, but no other emotion registered on his face. I do not even socialize with my brothers. It is better that way. Being around others is…uncomfortable.
I’m sorry. Gwyn and I have rescued a few wolves who have that same problem.
I am not a regular wolf.
You can say that again. You walk upright and talk telepathically. So, not normal.
Turning his head so she saw his aristocratic profile, he gave her a slight nod and then left the room without another word. She stared at the open doorway, wondering where he’d gone. Had she said something to offend him?
She placed her empty cup on the side table and leaned against the wall. Crossing her arms, she stared out into the cavern. The pale lichen lights outlined the still pool of water, mirroring the stalactites hanging above, but her thoughts remained on a mystery named Rafael.
