

Contents

Also by J. F. Kaufmann

THE TWO-BLOOD LEGACY

Copyright

Dedication

PART ONE: ASSANNI

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

PART TWO: ELLIDA

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Fort-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

Instead of an Epilogue: THE WEDDING GIFT

The Wedding

The Gift

Queen of the Night

GLOSARRY

A preview: GUARDIAN OF THE REALM

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Introducing BEST FRIENDS AND OTHER LOVERS

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by J.F Kaufmann

GUARDIAN OF THE REALM

The Red Cliffs Chronicles Book 2

BEST FRIENDS AND OTHER LOVERS

The Two-blood Legacy

### The Red Cliffs Chronicles Book 1

J. F. Kaufmann

_Copyright 2020 J. F. Kaufmann_

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

The Two-blood Legacy _is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental._

All trademarks and brand names in this book belong to their respective owners.

The Two-blood Legacy _is the revised edition of two previously_

_published novels,_ Asanni and Ellida _._

Cover page Srđan Filipović

_To my boys_

Part One: Asanni

Prologue

Astrid

FEAR SWEPT OVER ME LIKE a tide.

Trapped in my wolf body that didn't know how to fight and was too weak to run, I watched my stepfather's four mercenaries closing in on Jack and me.

_May Jack be safe._ I prayed. _May Jack be safe._

" _No time for prayers!"_ A different voice inside my head snapped, startling me. The voice of my dynes, my other spirit. _"We have to fight them."_

A miracle I didn't have time to dwell upon.

I growled in approval, the feeling of dread evaporating like mist in the morning sun. My muscles tightened, my mind cleared. Strength replaced weakness, hope overlaid despair. _"Tell me what to do,"_ I said.

" _Let me take over!"_

I chuckled, despite the grim reality. _"The stage is yours, wizardess."_

Sensing something had shifted, Jack, also in his wolf shape, turned to me and paled, taking in my blue, wizard eyes instead of the amber of my wolf's.

" _The asanni has joined the team,"_ I said in my wizard voice, a tad less deep and husky than that of my wolf _._

" _No! Astrid, no. Run toward the forest! You must run!"_ Jack yelled, his voice thick with dread. Not for himself. For me. Jack was a great warrior, but I was his great weakness.

" _Forget it, Jack! I'm not leaving you. Where is their weak point? Where should I aim?"_

" _Astrid, listen! The blond one at the front is the leader; the one on his left is the strongest. I'll go after them. You try to outrun the other two. You can do that. Run now!"_

" _No! Where are they weak? Tell me!"_

" _Oh, God! Neck! Break the neck! And watch out for weapons!"_

I murmured a spell in my old wizard tongue and found Jack's eyes. _"Jack, jump and roll over me!"_

" _What?!"_

" _Just do it!"_

Jack knocked me down. We rolled several times, moving away from our enemy.

When we separated, two identical werewolves stood in front of them.

"What? What's that? I told you to grab him first!" the leader screeched. "She's a witch! Look what she did! They both look like him! Which one is she? Take them both! Take them both!"

" _The hell you will!"_ I closed my eyes and cast a spell.

" _Moðir Eldær vara hlíf ... Moðir Eldær vara hlíf."_

Mother Fire, be my shield.

" _Astrid, no! No!"_ Jack was shouting at the top of his lungs.

My big, powerful body burst into flames, charging toward the enemy with a speed I hadn't dreamt I possessed.

My first prey dropped on the ground even before I reached him. I jumped over him and followed the other one, who pulled out a knife and bolted toward the woods, faster than a shadow.

Still not fast enough. A few long strides and I was in front of him. Our eyes met. His were filled with fear. Mine, I supposed, with anger.

" _Drop_ _the knife. I don't want to kill you,"_ I said, but then remembered we couldn't communicate telepathically. He was a Tel-Urugh, an ancient blood-drinker.

With a flick of his wrist, the knife flew low from his hand, catching a sunbeam on its curved edge, before its tip pierced my leg.

The world compressed into a single particle and I drowned in darkness.

Chapter One

Three weeks earlier

Jack

THE PHONE ON THE NIGHTSTAND made a hum, jerking me upright. I glanced at the display and felt a prickle at my nape. A call from Tristan Blake at 1:35 a.m. could only mean trouble.

I pressed the answer button. "Is Astrid okay?"

"She's fine," Tristan said. "We've just got a call from Copper Ridge. The same woman who phoned us before. She says a month ago Seth sent a couple of his people to look for Astrid."

"A month ago? Why didn't she tell us until now?"

"Because she didn't know until now. Seth's up to something again."

I rubbed my chin. "That's what we heard, too. Did his people come close to Astrid?"

"No," Tristan said. "They looked for her in the wrong place. Dallas."

"Dallas? Hmm. I wonder what made them go there. She's never had any connections to Texas."

"A smokescreen? Perhaps they wanted us to believe they had no clue where she is."

"It's possible," I said. "Or perhaps someone sent them on a wild goose chase. But who? That lunatic Seth must be stopped. The sooner the better."

"Copper Ridge may need some help to take him down."

"I know. We'll help them."

"We can keep Astrid safe as long as it takes," Tristan said. "Between Liv, me and your people here, she's well protected, but it's a band-aid solution."

Brother and sister team, the Falconers, had been sent to Rosenthal a while ago to watch over Astrid. Not that Tristan and Livia Blake needed help; their job was to monitor her surroundings for anything unusual. They'd been told to keep a distance so that she didn't know about them, but to stay close enough to protect her, if necessary. It was time, however, for a more radical move.

"She should come to Red Cliffs," I said. "She's too precious to us to risk anything happening to her. I'll talk to James. If he agrees, I'll come to Rosenthal and talk to her. Convince her to come with me to Red Cliffs." I let out a frustrated sigh. "Stubborn little mule. She should've come long ago."

"Astrid's been reluctant to go to Red Cliffs, true, but she had reasons to be. Try to understand."

"She'd better come this time."

"That depends on you, Jack," Livia Blake said in her slow, sensual drawl. The voice came from somewhere behind Tristan. With her sharp hearing, she could heard our conversation. With _my_ sharp hearing, her voice was as clear as if she were talking on the phone.

I smiled. Some of the tension caused by Tristan's call eased. Livia Blake could have such an effect on people. "Hey, beautiful. I was wondering where you were."

"Hey, handsome. Haven't seen you in ages."

"Okay, that's it," I heard Tristan again. "I am not teleconferencing again. Livia, if you want to talk to Jack, keep the phone pressed against your ear, not mine."

I heard Livia sigh. "Okay. Pass me the phone, love" Then, a moment later, "Jack, Astrid's a sensible person. She'll listen to you. By the way ..." She let her voice drift off. I knew Liv long enough to know what was coming. I could picture the spark in her eyes and a hint of a smile in the corners of her mouth. "She's beautiful, you know."

"She's pretty, yes," I said. "I saw her pictures. Liv, darling, if this is one of your little matchmaking schemes, you shouldn't bother. You know they don't work with me."

"Should I remind you that your last girlfriend was your own choice, yet it didn't work either?"

She was right there, I'd give her that.

"Astrid is exquisite, you'll see," Livia said.

"I believe you. Liv, listen, don't tell Astrid Seth's people were looking for her. I'll talk to her. Keep her safe until I take over."

"Pfft, a piece of cake," Liv said. "They can only get to her over our dead bodies, and that won't be easy, you must admit."

"Next to impossible," I said with a chuckle.

"Are you coming alone?" Tristan asked, half joking, half serious. "Maybe we should have two guest rooms ready? Knowing James, I won't be surprised to see him, too."

"It's understandable. She's his niece, and he worries about her." Liv said.

"I'm going to bring her to him." This time she was coming with me even if I had to tie her up, toss her over my shoulder and carry her to Red Cliffs. "See you soon, then. And don't worry about the room. James's not coming with me if I can help it. And I plan to stay at Astrid's. I need to know her better."

Before Livia could make a comment, I finished the call.

TWO DAYS LATER, I STOOD behind an old spruce tree in Astrid's backyard, waiting for Tristan.

She'd just returned home. I watched as she unlocked the door, turned the light on and stepped in. One by one, the other lights went on.

I followed her aura—the clear outline of the body heat some of us were able to see—as she moved through the house. It was bright blue, unlike the deep red of typical wolf-peoples' aura. From the hallway to the kitchen, to the living room, bathroom, bedroom and back to the living room again, where she walked to the window and closed the blinds.

Did she find my scent inside the house?

Probably not. The search seemed to be over. She was back in the kitchen, opening the fridge and bending over in front of it.

I HAD ARRIVED AT ROSENTHAL earlier that morning. Astrid had been already at work, so I'd taken the opportunity to look around her house. I wasn't proud of it, but I wouldn't apologize either. The Falconer siblings' reports were focused more on her surroundings and the potential dangers than on the things I needed to know: what kind of person the young surgeon Dr. Astrid Mohegan, alias Dr. Rosalie Duplant, really was.

The reason was simple: unbeknown to her, Astrid, the daughter of a wizardess and a werewolf, was a rare, precious, powerful _ellida_ , the mighty force of good and the highest authority of a werewolf clan. That's why I had to bring her to Red Cliffs. She belonged among us and we needed her as much as she needed us.

The other reason for this incognito visit was more mundane—I'd wanted to look for traces and scents of other people in and around her house—werewolves, wizards, _Tel-Urughs_ , humans. Anyone who could do her harm. I knew Liv checked her place twice a day. It'd be hard to imagine anything slipping her attention. Still, another pair of eyes—or better, another nose—wouldn't hurt.

Astrid's house was small and had only two bedrooms. The interior was clean and simple: modern, dark brown furniture, plenty of free space, sliding doors dividing the kitchen from the sitting area and her small office. Natural colors prevailed: off-white walls, a beige sofa and armchairs, dark parquet floor. It would've appeared gender neutral if it hadn't been for the decorative accents in different shades of pink: the cushions, the carpet under the coffee table, the lampshade, the woolen blanket on the sofa, a big bouquet of pink roses in a vase.

Hanging on the wall there were several Japanese ink paintings with a four-season theme: orchards, bamboo, chrysanthemums and plum blossoms. More sumi-e artworks of misty landscapes, flowers and small animals adorned the opposite wall.

When I stepped into her tidy, almost spartan bedroom, the floor made a high-pitched squeak. I nodded in silent approval: a nightingale floor, designed to make a sound when walked upon. The dry boards creaked under the pressure of footsteps and the flooring nails rubbed against clamps, producing chirping noises. A simple and efficient security device assuring nobody could sneak into her room. I'd heard about it, but never seen one. Smart girl.

She loved music. I'd heard she had an exceptional singing voice, trained for years. It was so beautiful that she could be an opera singer if she wanted. Or rather, if she could afford the fame and publicity that would come with such a voice.

I checked a pile of CDs in front of her stereo: Guns'n' Roses' _Use Your Illusion_ was the last one she'd listened to. The jewel case lay open, and the disc was still in the player.

I shook my head, smiling. Who on earth still listened to CDs?

Besides heavy metal and hard rock, the recordings that had been recently played contained Amy Winehouse, Queen, Santana. Dire Straits' _Sultans of Swing._ I smiled—my all-time favorite. A big box beside the bookcase was filled with classical music: Bach, Beethoven, Handel, Haydn—symphonies, concertos, operas. Several different productions of Mozart's _The Magic Flute._

I browsed through her books, hundreds of them packed tightly on shelves that covered a whole wall. Her literary tastes were also interesting. "Tell me what you read, and I'll tell you who you are." Hmm. In Astrid's case, it wouldn't be so easy. She seemed to like everything from Aristotle to Asterix. Classic titles stood side by side with contemporary bestsellers and graphic novels. A lot of supernatural romance fiction. On the floor beside the sofa, with a bookmark tucked somewhere in the second half, lay a signed copy of _The Name of the Rose_ by Umberto Eco, read numerous times, judging by the condition of the book.

Lots of medical books and magazines, but that was hardly a surprise.

Astrid's neat, modest little nest didn't reveal much about her except that she was a down-to-earth young woman who loved books, music, movies. And the color pink.

At least I was sure about two important things: no one had looked for her here, and she wasn't in a relationship. The only scents in the house except hers were Liv's and Tristan's.

It didn't seem right to further invade Astrid's privacy. I looked around to make sure everything was as I'd found it. I'd only leave traces of my scent outside her house. I was curious to see if she would notice it.

I KEPT MY EYES ON the house, following her from the fridge to the kitchen table. She pulled out a chair and sat.

I expected her to start eating, but the blue outline of her body was still, like it was frozen.

_Something is wrong_ , flashed through my mind only a second before her scent reached me from behind and her cold fingers closed around my throat in a strong grip.

At the precise moment when her hand touched my neck, a gentle, warm wave washed over me, reaching every cell of my body and every corner of my soul. She winced, and I knew she'd felt it too. Her grasp first loosened then tightened again.

Oh, God.

"Who are you and why are you watching me?"

Her voice was soft, alluring. A tell-me-the truth-and-I might-let-you-live kind of soft and alluring.

Before I could answer, Tristan appeared in front of me seemingly out of nowhere.

"Wrong time to be late," I said to him.

"Tristan." Astrid acknowledged his arrival.

"It's okay, Astrid," Tristan said with suppressed laughter. "You can let him breathe."

My attacker released my throat and I turned. She took a step back and, tilting her head, studied me with open curiosity.

"SORRY, YOU TWO," TRISTAN SAID. "I see you've already met but let me make a formal introduction. Astrid, this is Jack Canagan from Red Cliffs. Jack, this is Astrid Mohegan. Why don't we go inside the house?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Jack Canagan. I've heard of you. You're my Uncle James's stepson."

With a curiosity that matched hers, I took in the tall, slender, golden-haired and blue-eyed young woman I knew only from photographs. They didn't do her justice.

I cleared my throat. It didn't hurt, but her grip had been strong. Good. She was nobody's fool. "It makes us some sort of family, doesn't it?"

Chapter Two

Astrid

I WAVED TOWARD THE SOFA. Tristan and Jack sat on opposite ends, while I took a seat across from them, in the armchair.

"It looked like you left your aura at the kitchen table," my visitor said. "A nice little trick."

"I knew you were close, watching me. I didn't see you, but your scent was all over my backyard."

He shifted in his seat and smiled. "Good to know you detected it."

"Would've been hard not to." His scent was strong. And pleasant.

"And an unfamiliar scent didn't scare you?"

"No," I said. "My instinct told me there was nothing to be afraid of."

Jack laughed at that. "Yet you perform your Vulcan nerve pinch on me, huh? Just in case?"

"Right. Instincts are great, but they can be wrong."

"Clever thinking," he said.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He moved his head from left to right to stretch his neck muscles. "You caught me by surprise, I have to admit. Where did you learn that little maneuver?"

"A friend of mine taught me."

"You have a strong grip."

"Strong? I was careful not to hurt you."

"Better to remember not to upset you then," Jack said with a lopsided smile.

After our little verbal tennis match, which Tristan watched with an amused expression, we fell silent.

Jack looked around the room, his gaze shifting from my bookshelves to me, from me to the sumi-e paintings on the wall, and from the paintings back to me.

I watched him from under my lashes. He was a man who felt comfortable in his own skin. Confident, strong. Funny, but it seemed he belonged here, in my small living room, sitting on my sofa with his long legs outstretched and his arm relaxed over the back of the sofa.

I couldn't help but also notice his clean, proportional facial features, beautiful amber eyes, light brown hair and powerful physique. And, oh, his scent. Soap, clean clothes, musk, a hint of sweat. He smelled good.

Just before the quietness had become too long, Tristan broke it. "Astrid, Liv and I have known Jack for years. You're safe with him. And you know why he's here. I think you should consider what he has to say."

"So, you and Liv knew about this?" I said. It was more a statement than a question. Of course, they'd known.

"I asked them not to tell you," Jack said in Tristan's defense, before Tristan could say anything. "I didn't want you to take a hike."

"Jack phoned two days ago," Tristan said. "I'm sorry, Astrid."

I waved him off. "It's okay, Tristan. I understand."

I did, really. When it came to me, nothing was simple. Liv and Tristan were my friends, but also my protectors. My safety took priority over friendship and loyalty. I wouldn't have run away even if I'd known Jack Canagan was coming, but he couldn't know that and had all the reasons to be wary. I had a reputation of being uncooperative. In the past, I had refused to have anything to do with my Red Cliffs' family and my clan.

"Take a day off tomorrow," Tristan said. "You've been working for ten days in a row."

I shook my head. "I can't. Mrs. Fontaine is getting a new kneecap. I have her scheduled for 8 a.m."

"I can operate on her," Tristan said.

He could, of course. In addition to being the Rosenthal Hospital CEO, Tristan was an exceptional surgeon. But Charlotte Fontaine was my patient and she expected me to fix her knee. "I'm not tired. I'll be fine."

"Okay, then." Tristan slapped his palms to his knees and stood up. "Keep your mind open, Astrid. That's all I ask. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I will. I promise. Say hello to Liv," I said to Tristan as I walked him to the door.

"I'VE BEEN EXPECTING SOMEONE from Red Cliffs to show up sooner or later, but now that you're here I don't know how to feel about it," I said when I returned. "You want me to go with you."

"That's right," he said simply.

I shook my head. "I can't just pack and leave. People know me here. I have a house. I have a job. I have several surgeries scheduled for the next couple of weeks, and I plan to do them all."

"Then we'll leave when you wrap things up."

"We? You plan to stay here until I'm ready to go?"

The corners of his lips tugged into a smug smile. "I'm not leaving without you."

Yeah. I guess he wasn't. "It could be a long wait."

"I'm not in a hurry."

I sighed. "I need coffee. Do you want a cup?"

"Please. Half teaspoon of sugar."

I almost reached the kitchen when he added, "Is it okay if I stay here with you? At your house? I think that's easier for both of us."

_In my hous_ e _? Did I hear that correctly?_

I glanced at my guest. He didn't look as if he'd been joking.

His request, natural and crazy all at once, brought up all sorts of conflicting emotions. Why would I allow a man I'd met less than an hour ago to stay at my house? Because Tristan and Liv knew him? Because he was my kinsman? Because he looked and smelled sinfully masculine? Or because of that wonderful warm current that had splashed over my body when I had touched his throat?

I could still feel the traces of it. I wanted to feel it again.

"Er, sure," I heard myself saying. My blood hummed with excitement I didn't dare to explore further. "You're welcome to stay."

"YOU'VE LIVED AMONG WIZARDS and humans, but how much do you know about us?" Jack asked when I returned from the kitchen with two mugs in my hands.

I passed him one and took my place on the armchair. "A little. I wasn't aware of my connections to Red Cliffs until my teenage years."

"It wasn't your fault, I know. But you were born in Red Cliffs and your father was a werewolf. You've known that since you were a teenager. This is your world, too."

I moved my finger around the rim of my cup several times before I set it down on the table. "Yes. Of course," I said, glancing at him from under my lashes. "Did my uncle send you?"

He confirmed with a nod. "Very few things in Red Cliffs happen without your uncle's knowledge. He and your grandparents agree that the safest place for you is Red Cliffs."

"I'm aware of that," I said. "I'm not sure if you know, but last year Seth's people tried to kidnap me. My grandfather and my uncle decided I had to go to Red Cliffs. I was supposed to drop everything and go. I couldn't do that."

"So, you chose to drop everything and come to Rosenthal instead. Why? It wasn't an idle threat."

I took a sip of my coffee and grimaced. It was too strong and too hot. "Because at least it was my decision; that's why. Uncle and Grandpa treated me like a child. Like someone who wasn't capable of making her own decisions. Besides, Tristan and Liv offered to come here with me to protect me. It was enough."

"Well, your uncle thought that might not be enough. Six months ago, he sent two of our people to watch over you."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. Why wasn't I surprised? Because one way or another, somebody had been watching over me my entire life, that's why. "How come I haven't noticed anything?" I asked.

"They masked their scent and they didn't come close enough for you to sense them."

But I'd sensed _him_. "You wanted me to find your scent, didn't you? Why? To test my sense of smell?"

"Yes," he said with no hesitation. "We don't know much about your werewolf side."

"I don't know much about my werewolf side either," I said. "Nor have I a clue how to deal with the little I know about it."

He gulped his coffee. I couldn't help but smile at his expression. He didn't enjoy it any more than I did. "It's, er, strong. Anyway, we can help you to understand it. _I_ can help. You are our kin, you are not alone."

I rubbed my forehead. "I want an ordinary life. Here I can have it."

"You can only _pretend_ to have it, and you know that. You're a half wizard, half werewolf. Not an orthodox heritage. As a werewolf, you don't belong to the human world."

"Which world do I belong to? I'm a wizardess who can't use her powers and a werewolf who can't control her wolf. Do you know how much trouble I have with my transformation?"

"I've heard. We'll see why. Your werewolf is not a wild, crazy 'someone' living inside you. It's a part of you, a mirror image of your wizard side, only more intense. Your _asanni_ and your _blaidd benywaidd_ are in harmony."

He knew our word for a wizardess—asanni—but I had never heard the word blaidd benywaidd before. The meaning wasn't difficult to guess, though. "Blaidd benywaidd _?_ Is this what you call a werewolf?" I asked.

"Were _woman;_ she-wolf. You're a blaidd benywaidd. Well, a half, to be precise. I'm a _blaidd_."

"And my other half? What do you call it?"

"It's called dynes," he said and explained that _dynes_ —and its masculine equivalent, _dyn_ had a dual meaning. Depending on context, they referred to both our human spirit and our human physical form. Our people were called _gwerin y blaidd_ and the humans that lived among us and knew about our existence— _gwerin_. "All these words are from _Hen Iaith_ ," Jack summarized his concise werewolf vocabulary lesson, "our old language, related to Archaic Welsh."

"Dynes. Blaidd benywaidd", I repeated softly. I liked the sound of those words. So soft. They carried more meaning than "human" or "she-wolf."

For a while, we talked about our old languages, of which we—werewolves, wizards and Tel-Urughs, the ancient race Tristan and Livia belonged to—had only limited use. We lived among humans, we needed to blend with them, so adopting their languages as our lingua franca had been a practical solution.

Still, we kept our old languages alive. We learned them as children, we spoke them among ourselves, we read and wrote in them. Wizards perhaps had the most concrete benefits of their ancestral language, _Mál_ , similar to Proto-Norse. Our spells would work only if cast in Mál, otherwise they didn't work at all.

Werewolves, as I learned from Jack, used their old language not only for ceremonies but to communicate with their kind, who were dispersed all over the planet as well. For werewolves, Hen Iaith functioned as their common language. Jack mentioned what I'd learned from Livia before—that Tel-Urughs had also preserved their old tongue, _High Akkadian_ , the predecessor and the only surviving relative of the long-ago lost tongues of Summer.

Jack's smooth baritone put me at ease, made me lower my guard. He was a friend, not a foe, I thought. Someone I could trust. My kin.

Bizarre as it was, I had a feeling that this man sitting across from me wasn't a stranger, but someone who'd been part of my life forever.

He told me of the clans that lived on the American continent, their origins, history, traditions.

"I'll need to learn a lot," I said. "I know very little about this part of my heritage."

"You'll learn, don't worry," Jack said gallantly. Then he looked at me for a long moment. "Is it just your difficult transformation or is there something else?"

Did I imagine a touch annoyance in his voice? "I'm sorry?"

"Why can't you accept your blaidd benywaidd?"

No, I hadn't. The feeling of closeness vanished. "When you see my change, you'll understand my lack of enthusiasm," I said sharper than I'd intended.

"I'm sometimes too frank. I'm sorry."

I took a deep breath. "Don't make assumptions, you don't know me. I don't have a problem with what I am. Or, I wouldn't if I could control my, er, blaidd benywaidd. But I can't. It scares me that I don't know what happens to me during transformation. I black out. I can't initiate the change, I can't turn back by will. It makes me weak and vulnerable. You can't call this 'harmony' of my two parts."

Jack leaned forward. "I can help you go through it the next time and every time after that. As long as you need me. You'll have memories, you'll be able to connect time. You have to learn how to control the change. It's easy and natural."

"For you. You are not a half wizard."

Jack ignored my remark. "Do you change every month? No exceptions?"

"It was irregular at the beginning, every three to four months, but I always knew when it was coming." I rubbed my forehead. "Look, can we stop here now? I have to be at the hospital at six o'clock in the morning."

He rose. "You know, you can be a doctor in Red Cliffs. We need occasional medical attention. Not too much, but still."

I glanced up at him from under my lashes. "I'm an MD, Mr. Canagan, not a veterinarian."

It flashed through my mind that he might feel offended, but he just laughed. "I'm sure we wouldn't mind. By the way, where am I going to sleep?"

"In the spare room down the hall. The bedsheets, pillows and blanket are in the closet. I believe you have your pajamas and a toothbrush with you."

We stood across from each other, with the coffee table between us.

"I have a toothbrush," he said with an innocent grin.

Right. He didn't look like someone who wore pajamas. "I have just one bathroom, and I'll need it between five and five-thirty. After that, it's all yours."

"Yes, ma'am. My car is parked a block from here. It's going to take a minute to get there and back. Don't get into trouble in my absence."

"I'll do my best, I promise," I said and walked toward the kitchen.

"Astrid?"

"Yes?" I stopped and turned to him, surprised to find him right behind me. I took a small step back. Jack reached for the cups I was holding, both still almost full. "Let me help you with that." His fingers lightly brushed mine. The same warm sensation I'd felt when I'd touched his throat earlier that evening ran from my fingers through my entire body.

"Out of curiosity, why Rosalie Duplant?" he asked.

I smiled. "She was an opera singer from eighteenth-century England, the most famous Queen of the Night of her time. You know, from Mozart's _The Magic Flute_. Good night, Jack."

Chapter Three

Astrid

WHEN JACK INSISTED ON DRIVING me to the hospital the next morning, leaving no room for negotiation, I reconsidered my still unannounced decision to go with him after my next change. I had less than two weeks before the next full moon, but that would give me enough time, I'd calculated, to do the surgeries that had already been scheduled. Now I realized that I was stuck with him in my house for the time being.

I felt ambivalent about his visit. On the one hand, it was a relief. I did need help. My uncle knew that, and I'd been expecting him to step in. On the other hand, my life here in Rosenthal, a small town in the Pacific Northwest, had been safe and pleasant, and I was reluctant to change it. I'd come to like its unhurried, familiar routine, and the way I blended in among its inhabitants.

I couldn't imagine more capable safeguards than the Blakes—Tristan and, especially, Livia possessed immense strength and powers.

I'd moved from Seattle to Rosenthal about a year ago, accepting the position of trauma surgeon that had to be reposted three times before I applied for it. I bought the smallest house I could find in this town of wealthy retirees, artists and amateur golfers, and a nondescript car—a five-year-old cobalt blue Honda Accord—which I almost never used. The hospital and pretty much everything else in Rosenthal was within ten to twenty minutes' walking distance from my tiny house on Bergamot Drive, depending on whether you were in a hurry or not.

I missed my grandparents, of course. My job at the ER, my new condo, which I hadn't had time to turn into a home, my best friend, Ingmar. And the rain. Not that it didn't rain in Rosenthal. But even when it rained in earnest, it still wasn't that magnificent curtain of water that was possible only in Seattle.

My seemingly ordinary life in this small town was a temporary solution, I was aware of that. Or, better, a temporary _illusion_. I wasn't an average young woman and my life had never been conventional.

Although I was of two bloods, I had been brought up as an asanni, a wizardess. I'd been put through rigorous training not only to master my abilities but also to bring them under perfect command. It'd been a crucial part of my upbringing—we had to learn from an early age to never draw attention to ourselves.

I'd been raised by my wizard grandparents, Ella and Gottfried. My grandfather was a brilliant lawyer, who currently worked for the UN as a human rights advisor. Grandmother was a pediatrician at the Children's Hospital in Seattle. They both enjoyed equal respect among _Langaer_ , what we called the three non-human races. Werewolves, Tel-Urughs and wizards also needed legal minds and, occasionally, doctors.

Unlike the gwerin y blaidd—I really needed to start using the proper terminology—the _asyngaer_ —the wizardkind, that is—didn't have their own physical territory. We lived in the human world. Or rather, we shared the same world with them, for it was ours as much as it was theirs. We tried to blend in among humans, adopting many of their customs and habits. It was easy to forget sometimes that we were different.

To hide in plain sight, we had to resort to our significant powers creating _tallins_ and _Talsyns_. The first ones were small, short-lived conjures like the one that I had tricked Jack with, "leaving" my aura in the kitchen. Talsyns were more powerful, long-lasting or sometimes permanent manipulations of space, time and, occasionally, human consciousness to create the appearance of a different reality in the eyes and minds of humans. Talsyn meant "great shield" and, in many ways, it was. It was real magic. In comparison, tallins, "little shields", were harmless magic tricks.

All Langaer used tallins and Talsyns because we all needed to hide from, mingle with or sometimes protect ourselves from humans. They vary from race to race, of course, but we all share these two words that were the legacy of High Akkadian. Another curiosity—we all wrote tallin with a small "t" and Talsyn with a capital "T".

I OFTEN THOUGHT THAT MY life would've been way less eventful if I hadn't been of two bloods.

My asanni mother, Rowena was her name, was eighteen when she'd married my father, Hal, a blaidd from Red Cliffs. I was born a few months later. When I was less than a year old, my mother left my father for Seth Withali, the leader of the neighboring clan of Copper Ridge. She'd taken me with her, but it hadn't been long before she'd sent me to Ella and Gottfried. She had remained in Copper Ridge.

Her decision to leave Red Cliffs and my father had triggered a series of tragic events. In an attempt to bring her back, my father was soon killed, along with Brian Canagan, Jack's father, the clan's then leader. Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge stood on the verge of war.

At the beginning too young to understand and later unaware of this turmoil, I'd lived my seemingly ordinary life, unaware of what my father was and that I had relatives from his side.

For years and years, my father had been a mysterious figure to me. An unknown man who'd died in an accident when I was a baby. I'd believed he'd been a wizard too. My mother had been equally unreachable to me even though she was alive. I knew she existed, but I'd never seen her and she'd never asked about me. It hurt me even more than the death of my father.

As I grew, my demands to know more about them became louder. My grandparents provided me with _some_ explanations. I learned my father had been a werewolf. My mother had run away with Seth, my father had died trying to take her back. Too young to care for me, she stayed in Copper Ridge and I was raised by her parents.

These "answers" only intensified my curiosity, but my grandparents refused to tell me more.

I started putting the pieces of the puzzle together when I accidentally learned that Seth Withali was mentally ill.

I still remember my relief when my grandfather told me my mother had left him.

Even better I remembered how heartbroken I was when he added that she'd decided to stay in Copper Ridge nonetheless.

Why didn't they divorce? I'd asked, demanding the truth. They didn't have children.

It was complicated, my grandparents would say.

In the absence of concrete explanations, I drew my own conclusions. My mother either stayed because she had to, or because she didn't want me, which was more likely. Some parents were like that, I told myself. After all, didn't my grandparents seem to give up on her? If she'd been in danger, would they just sit and do nothing? No, knowing them, they'd move heaven and earth to save her. They loved her, she was their only child.

Yet they hadn't done anything. As far as I knew, there had been no contact between my mother and her parents. Why?

Why had my mother run away with that man? Who was responsible for my father's and Brian Canagan's deaths? Why had they been killed? Had my mother somehow been involved? Why had she never contacted me? Why did nobody want to talk about it?

Questions, questions, questions.

WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN, Gottfried and Ella explained to me that I might expect to go through the initial shapeshifting. Some children of parentage like mine became shapeshifters, some didn't. Nothing to worry about, they said. It wouldn't hurt. The first few transformations would be spontaneous, but soon I'd be able to change by will.

Year after year had passed and nothing happened. I started to believe—and hope—that I hadn't picked up that particular trait from my father.

In fact, I was a late bloomer: my metamorphosis was just a few years overdue. And then, one morning, when I was just two months shy of twenty-three, I suddenly felt horrible pain all over my body, as if something or somebody was trying to turn me inside out. I didn't remember much more than the pain, that ripping, dislocating horror inside me.

Darkness took me.

The next shapeshifting was even worse.

PRIOR TO MY FIRST TRANSITION, I hadn't been in touch with my Red Cliffs family. I was convinced they didn't want me because of my mother.

I was wrong. My grandparents, I soon learned, had been in contact with them all the time, keeping them up to date, even sending them my pictures. Concerned about my violent, irregular and out of control transformations, Gottfried had turned to my uncle for help. The two of them agreed I should go to Red Cliffs and stay with my father's relatives until I learned how to tame my wolf spirit.

Angry at my grandparents for keeping me in the dark, feeling betrayed by my father's family who'd waited—or so I thought—to see if I would become one of them before accepting me, I'd refused to go. When Gottfried, Ella and Uncle James, Red Cliffs' chieftain, or alpha—I was never sure about his official title, but he was a big gun there—combined their methods of persuasion in an attempt to reason with me, I put up such a fierce resistance that Red Cliffs was quickly taken off the agenda.

Following advice from my werewolf family, my grandparents helped me to cope with my transition.

Two years of random shifting had taught me how to recognize the symptoms. It helped me disappear in time, hide, go through the change and come back.

By then, the changes had become more and more regular until they came into perfect alignment with the lunar phases. The approach of the full moon—no surprise here—meant I'd soon shapeshift.

I hated it. I hated being weak and unable to control my body and mind. Having black holes in my memory. Waking up naked, on the cold, wet earth in the small cave on our secluded estate outside Seattle, where I would hide to shift. Feeling different, even smelling different as the change approached. Although, I could live with that part. The scent, no matter how hard I tried to dislike it, wasn't unpleasant.

The werewolf scent. Unknown yet familiar, like Jack's. His was similar to mine, only stronger, masculine and arousing. A perfect match to mine—more subtle, sweeter, feminine.

SOMEONE ELSE HAD BEEN WAITING to see if I was a shapeshifter or not—my stepfather, Seth Withali.

Last March he'd tried to kidnap me.

After my first, unexpected change, I had refused to shift in the house. Moreover, I'd taken a further step—I'd insisted on going to the little cave alone. Before that, Ella had always accompanied me.

The process was an ordeal. I'd be sick for a day or two before the change, exhausted, miserable, feverish. When the pain became unbearable, I'd shift, but that part was always lost to me. Then after about twenty-four hours, I'd return to my human body and my human mind.

That time, when I'd shifted back, two unknown men were in the cave with me. My hands and feet were neatly tied with a thin, silky rope, the kind that tightens more and more as you try to loosen it up. My vision was still hazy and all my senses dulled. The cave smelled of male sweat.

One of the men jerked me to my feet, brushing his big, dirty hand over my breast.

That sharpened my senses. I used all my energy to translocate far enough to get away from them. Still dizzy and weak from the change, the tranquilizer they'd used on me, as well as from translocation, I climbed up a tree and I watched them searching for me. They were mad with rage for losing me.

They mentioned Seth several times. What would they tell him about why they'd failed? Would he believe them?

Why had Seth wanted me? For blackmail? For revenge? Because he was crazy? Did my mother know what was going on?

Grandma and Grandpa didn't seem to know either. Or if they knew, they didn't want to share. They were super worried, though. Once more, backed up by Uncle James, they tried to persuade me to go to Red Cliffs.

Once more I refused. I changed my name and moved to Rosenthal instead. Livia and Tristan, Gottfried and Ella's acquaintances, whom I'd known from before, came with me on Gottfried's request. We quickly became friends.

NOW MY UNCLE HAD DECIDED enough was enough and sent Jack Canagan to bring me home.

Jack was my step-cousin, not a blood relation, as far as I knew (for a reason I didn't want to dwell upon right now, this fact made me giddy with relief). We were family through marriage. A few years after Jack's father had died, his mother—Eve was her name I believed—had married my uncle. Their daughter and son were Jack's siblings and my first cousins.

Still, we could share the same ancestor. Werewolves were a small population, and if you go back far enough, we're all related. That much even I knew.

We _were_ somehow connected, however. When I'd touched him, first his neck and then his fingers later, I'd felt some sort of strange warmth rippling through my body. I'd never felt anything like it before. It was not only delightful but it also smothered the edginess caused by Jack's sudden arrival. And like his scent, it had the same disturbing sensual component.

What was it? I didn't know. I knew very little about the werewolf side of me.

It was time to learn more. Going to Red Cliffs with Jack might indeed be the best solution.

"Your family didn't betray you, Astrid," my grandfather often said. "Once you get to know your family, you'll like them a lot."

Soon we'd see.

Chapter Four

Jack

A PART OF ME WAS relieved when I dropped Astrid off at the hospital.

Before last night I hadn't even been sure if I believed in werewolf bonding. I'd always thought that it was wrong to be left without a choice. There was nothing great about some random, unknown power ruling one of the most important aspects of your life.

Then Astrid's fingers had touched my throat, and the shock of our irreversible, unchangeable, eternal connection shot from my neck down my spinal cord, spreading through my body, my soul, my mind.

I had never met Astrid before yesterday. I knew she existed—back home, her name was on everybody's lips—I'd seen her pictures many times in the last six months. Nothing had foretold one of the greatest events of my life. Her lovely but serious face and smart, deep-blue eyes hadn't evoked any specific emotion. The only detail that had stuck in my mind was her luxurious hair—a long, silky golden-copperish cascade that looked like a halo around her face.

She too had felt the bond, but didn't seem to know what it was. I knew, which didn't prevent me from feeling like I was struck by a thunderbolt when it happened.

I didn't want to be bonded, not to her, not to anyone, yet I could do nothing about it. I found comfort in the fact that she would've attracted me anyway. Probably. Physically, she wasn't my type, but she did have that _something_ that I liked in women: confidence, a brilliant mind, wit and charm.

Later, watching her sitting across the table, her arms crossed over her chest, I tried to imagine her reaction when she learned we were bonded. I could see her cool wizard mind struggling to grasp the concept of the bond and many others she was about to discover. Oh, that was going to be interesting. She'd been ready to jeopardize her safety by refusing to come to Red Cliffs because her opinion hadn't been considered. Wait until she learned she had no choice but to fall in love with me.

The other part of me, the one that _wasn't_ relieved, didn't like being separate from her. The darned bond had already started working. That was a new feeling, both exciting and frustrating. Annoying because, again, it had been forced upon me. Exciting, well, because I could hardly wait to have that not-my-type-of woman beside me again.

I shook my head and smiled. Seven-of-Nine from Star Trek Voyager, exactly my type of woman, would say that resistance was futile.

I RETURNED TO ASTRID'S HOUSE. Her scent was all over it, and I inhaled it thirstily. She smelled fresh, of rain and wind, of a clear spring morning, of the sea breeze. Deep, deep under all these elemental essences, there was a subtle touch of musk, earthy and tangy.

All insanely arousing.

I talked to James and my mother, without revealing too many details of my first encounter with my step-cousin, then spent several hours on my laptop trying to catch up with my work.

It was around eleven when I became restless, so going to see Tristan seemed like a good idea.

THE HOSPITAL ADMINISTRATION, INCLUDING Tristan's office, was on the fourth floor. I asked to see him and he instructed the receptionist to send me up.

A brass plate on the door read Dr. Tristan Blake, and under that CEO, Hospital Services, without the usual string of titles that people from the medical profession were sometimes so fond of. Tristan had several medical specialties, but he was one of the most laid-back people I'd ever known.

He was reading a medical journal when I opened the door, and rose to greet me.

"The first thing Astrid asked me this morning was if you were her blood relative, then if you were married," he said, gesturing toward an empty chair across his desk. "Interesting, isn't it?"

I felt a surge of primal male pride. "Did she now? What did you tell her?"

"That you are not married and, to the best of my knowledge, not her blood relative. She'll kill me if she knows I told you, so don't mention it to her. And no reason for that cocky grin; she asked that for practical reasons. You are about to camp at her place for several weeks, so she would prefer you were unmarried, cousin or not. Espresso?"

I couldn't hide my smile. No, she hadn't asked just for the practical reasons. "Sure," I said. "She made something undrinkable this morning. So, what did she say?"

"Nothing. Hard to tell if she was relieved or disappointed. Wizards are not easy to read." Tristan walked to the small table beside the window that held a coffee machine. He took two cups from the top of it, set them on the drip tray and filled the filter with ground coffee. The fresh aroma of Arabica beans filled the air.

Tristan pressed the power button and leaned against the windowsill. The machine made a soft hiss and started dripping coffee into the cups.

"She was relieved, take my word for it," I said, and took a deep breath. "She's my bond mate, Tristan."

For an instant, he didn't get it.

"You're kidding!" he said when the meaning reached his mind. "Wow. What now? How did Astrid take it? How come she hadn't mentioned it this morning?"

"She doesn't know. I'm afraid to break the news to her."

"She'll freak out. And if you tell her you snooped around her house yesterday, she'll kick you out. And what then?"

"You have an excellent nose," I said. "At this point, she doesn't need to know about the bond. Or that I was in her house. After she spends some time in Red Cliffs, she'll understand us better. She'll learn such things are necessary."

Tristan smirked. "Good luck with that. So, what about you? How do you feel about the bond?"

"I've already freaked out. It'll take a while to accept it, mentally and emotionally."

"What are you going to do?"

"Proceed with the plan. Take her home. I don't know more than that."

"Do you like her?"

I raked my hand through my hair. "As if I have a freaking choice. Man, I met her yesterday. People think that bonding is romantic. It's damn scary. Your finger touches a stranger and the next thing you know you're tied to her for the rest of your life." Which could be (and most of the time was), very, very long.

The dripping stopped. The coffee machine pipped a signal that the espressos were ready. Tristan grabbed them, placed them on the desk and pushed one in my direction. "Sugar?"

"Thanks," I said, taking a spoon and a small crystal bowl with white cubes. With something that looked more like an old-fashioned surgical instrument than sugar cube tongs, I picked one piece and dropped it in my coffee.

"All species have bonding of one kind or another," Tristan said, taking back his seat. I passed him the bowl and the tongs.

"Yes, but ours is a more complex process. We bond on two different levels: our human and wolf spirits. Everybody must be in sync with everybody else. It usually happens easily and instantly, but it can also be a lengthy process."

"It's not always simple for us, either. Outside of our own kind, we most often bond with humans. No matter how civilized we are, on the subconscious level, we still consider them a source of 'food'. An inferior species, on the bottom of the evolutionary scale, although, in terms of survival, it's just the opposite—they're above us since _they_ don't need _us_ , _we_ need _them_. Still, we are predators, they are prey. And then, poof—you found yourself bonded to a human. No, my friend, bonding often doesn't go smoothly."

"To be honest, it never made much sense to me. Relationships are messy enough without it. It only complicates things even more."

Tristan shook his head. "Here you're wrong. We might not understand many aspects of it, but bonding doesn't happen haphazardly. _That_ wouldn't make any sense. Regarding Astrid, you should cheer up. It'll be easy to love her. You'll see when you know her better."

"We'll see," I said, stirring my coffee. "There's nothing I can do about it now anyway. Bonded or not, Astrid still needs my help to learn how to control her changes."

"It's more than that. Her transformations are not only uncontrollable but difficult and painful as well."

"Painful? She said she blacked out, but she didn't mention it was painful," I said, feeling a strange tightening in my chest. I wanted to find her, hold her tight so that nothing could hurt her anymore.

_Where was she now_ , I wondered, trying to pick up her scent.

The bond seemed to be interfering with my common sense. I made an effort to refocus on the conversation.

"It's always been painful for her, and it's becoming worse. She does it quickly, faster than you. Maybe that's the reason. She's an enormous wolf, way bigger than her human size would suggest. But then, when she turns, she's nothing like you guys. There isn't that burst of energy and life that always impresses me when I see you changing. She's exhausted."

Her words came back to me. _"When you see my change, you'll understand my lack of enthusiasm."_ And I had all but accused her last night of being prejudicial. "Why are they painful? Why is she weak afterward? Do you have any explanation?"

Tristan scratched his head. "I believe it's because she's an ellida. Alas, that's all I can say. As you know, very little is known about them."

He was right. Ellidas were rare and mysterious female offspring of rare unions between werewolves and wizards. There had been only a handful of ellidas in our history.

"Every ellida is different, but there are still some things they all share," I said. "Their first change happens in late puberty. After that, they quickly establish control over the process. It didn't happen with Astrid."

"Well, she's just different. Despite all her difficulties, she comes out of her shifting just fine. I always check her after the transformation. There is no damage, nothing unusual. She needs a day or two to become herself again."

Two days! Of course she hated it, I thought, trying hard not to imagine her curled up in pain, exhausted, unable to move. "I'll find out why she suffers through the change," I said. "What can you tell about her genetic makeup? That's your field."

One of Tristan's specialties was in medical genetics.

"She combines the best of both kinds, of course. She's an ellida."

"I know _that._ But emotionally, socially? Privately?"

"Astrid's much more emotional than wizards in general. You know them; they're like a crossover between Tolkien's Elves and Mr. Spock from _Star Trek_. Their rational side is prominent. Not that they do not feel, they do, as intensely as we do, they just don't show it. She does."

Tristan smiled at some private thought, then took a sip of his espresso and continued, "She's fiercely independent. Don't expect her to be submissive to you or anybody else. Or dominant, for that matter, at least not in her human form. Those concepts are still alien to her. She's a private person. A loyal friend. Smart, well-educated and sophisticated. She's very serious but can be funny to the bone."

"As a doctor?"

Tristan's face lit up. "Born to be one. She is both an orthopedic and trauma surgeon, and brilliant in both fields. Wizards are doctors par excellence, but she's exceptional even by their standards. I've haven't seen anything like that in a long time."

"She doesn't resemble Rowena."

"No, she took after Hal. From inside? We're all a combination of inherited and acquired characteristics. She has the best of both in her."

"She seems more levelheaded than her mother was," I said before I could think twice.

Tristan gave a sharp look. "Oh, for Chrissake, Jack! Rowena was eighteen, a teenager caught in serious grownup circumstances. Passionate, impatient. Too young to be married, too young to have a child. Hal was a great man, but he could be reckless and irresponsible. Like it or not, Astrid has her mother's passion, her feistiness." He pointed his finger at me. "And I'll tell you something else. No matter what Red Cliffs thinks, Rowena had nothing to do with Hal's and your father's deaths. No one can convince me otherwise. No one!"

"She set things into motion, but it was Seth who killed them, not Rowena. I'm aware of that."

"Jack, Astrid's a mature and responsible young woman," Tristan said, his voice softening with true affection for his young friend. "An old soul. I tease her sometimes that she was born as a twenty-five-year-old woman. She had a few stormy teenage years, but even that was just a typical hormonal rebellion, although Gottfried and Ella probably wouldn't agree."

Tristan's phone buzzed. He took it out from his pocket and read the message "Astrid's done for today. By the way, Liv expects you two at our place tonight. I mentioned it to Astrid. She said she'd talk to you." He gave me a devilish smile. "Oh, Liv will be ecstatic when she hears about the bond."

I bet she would be. "Don't mention it in front of Astrid. I'll tell her."

"No, I'll only tell Liv," he said with a wicked grin.

I ignored it and checked my phone for messages. "I told Astrid to text me when she was done so that I could pick her up."

"Next time _ask_ her, don't _tell_ her. Then she might do it. Why don't you surprise her? She'll be down in five minutes."

I rubbed my chin. "Damn. I'm bonded to her, she's not even my type," I said and stood. "She's too serious. And too slim." I meekly tried my futile resistance one more time. _And no boobs._ I added another irrelevant complaint to the whole list of other ridiculous ones, but at least I knew better than to say it aloud. Tristan was a first-rate old-school gentleman, and Astrid was his protégé.

He looked at me as if I'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "She's beautiful. You should think beyond bonding. Believe me, you'll be eating out of her hand before you know it, and you'll love it."

I heard my friend's hearty laugh as I closed the door behind me.

HANDBAG OVER HER SHOULDER, her light coat draped over her arm, Astrid stepped out of the elevator. She tilted her head and looked at me with an arched eyebrow.

I walked to her, I took the coat from her hands and helped her to put it on. I rested my hands on her shoulders and let the warm current run between us for a moment.

"I came to see Tristan," I said before she could ask me what I was doing in the hospital.

She turned to me. "Ah. To talk about me." The little smile that lurked in her blue eyes reached her lips. In a split second, I realized what Tristan had tried to tell me just a few minutes ago. _You_ are _beautiful!_ I almost said aloud, looking at her as if I hadn't seen her last night at all.

She opened her coat to smooth the blue dress under it. Last night she was in an oversized shirt. This morning she'd been fully dressed when she left her bedroom, her coat included. Now I realized I was mistaken about at least one more thing. Or rather two. The boobs.

I laughed aloud and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She glanced at me from under her lashes, but stayed close, the smile still lingered on her face.

I had a secret, and for the time being, I wasn't going to share it with her. For a while, I'd decided, I would enjoy the fact that she didn't have a clue that I was about to happen to her.

Chapter Five

Jack

AS WE WALKED TOWARD the automatic door, every head on the busy hospital's main floor was turned in our direction.

"We've drawn quite the attention, huh?" I said and pulled her a bit closer to me.

"Rosenthal is a small place," she said as we walked across the parking lot. "We're going to be the buzz of the week. In a year or so here, nobody has ever seen me with anybody else except Tristan and Liv."

"If people here think we're a couple, they won't be surprised when you leave. You know, we fell in love and decided to get married." I gave her a once-over when we reached my Audi.

"What?"

"You look different this morning." _Sexy_. _Alluring_.

She laughed. "That's the authority of a doctor. Everybody submits to that. Or perhaps your perception has changed."

_Perhaps_. I opened the passenger door for her. "I'm taking you out for lunch. Your fridge's almost empty."

"I planned to go grocery shopping today," she said, buckling up the seat belt. "I don't want to starve you."

"We'll do that together later," I said and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?"

"I passed by a small Italian restaurant after I dropped you off at the hospital. What do you think?"

"Palatine Hill," she said. "Sure. The food's great."

IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON, a slow time in the restaurant industry. Only a few tables were taken. Out of habit, I scanned the room: a middle-aged couple, waiting for their order, a group of three young women, finishing their meal, a family of four—a mother, a father and their twin girls of six or seven, busy with crayons and coloring sheets. Their little feet in pink ankle boots dangled in almost perfect synchronization to the rhythm of the Italian song coming out of the invisible speakers.

From behind the swinging doors separating the kitchen from the dining room, the muted sounds of voices and dishes and silverware clinking came out. Through the wall, I could see several auras, pearly white, as human auras normally were. Judging by their body positions and movements—a cook, a server and someone busy with scraping the pans.

A hostess in a dark blue dress recognized Dr. Duplant, of course. She welcomed us both with a smile and ushered us to the table beside the window overlooking the parking lot.

The waitress appeared from the kitchen with a water pitcher. She introduced herself and filled two glasses with water.

"I'll be back with a complimentary appetizer," she said. "Take your time with your order."

Astrid watched the waitress as she retreated. "You certainly draw lots of attention here," she said with a smile and a touch of annoyance. "They couldn't take their eyes off you."

"They?"

She waved in the general direction of the dining room. "The hostess, the waitress, the young women over there. Never mind."

Her comment did something funny to my heart. "I haven't noticed it," I said. _Because I couldn't take my eyes off you._

She smiled and looked through the window, for a moment deep in her thoughts. Then she turned and found my eyes. "Officially, we're step-cousins, but I'm wondering if we are related through a different family branch."

The waitress came back with hot buns and butter, preventing me from answering Astrid's question. We ordered Caprese salad and grilled scallops with mushroom risotto. Astrid asked for her salad dressing to be without garlic.

When the waitress withdrew, I said, "Several generations in the past, we had a common ancestor, but our kindship is too distant to cause a problem."

_Damn._ Maybe she wouldn't notice my gaff.

Fat chance. Astrid broke off a piece of the bun and smeared it with butter. "A problem? For what?"

_For you to marry me._ "Doesn't matter." I waved off her question. "Let's talk about your shifting. Why didn't you tell me last night that it's painful?"

"We didn't come to that point last night. Can _you_ tell me why it's painful?"

"No, not yet. I must see it first. I have to know more."

She leaned forward. "Tristan says you're not married." Her voice was a soft whisper. She'd lowered it so that no one could hear us, unaware how sexy she sounded.

I swallowed. "No, I'm not married. Never been."

"Good." She took a sip of water and licked her lips, sending a jolt of desire right to my cock. In a flash, I saw those lips licking something else.

I shifted in my seat to ease the tension. "I wonder where my double negative answer puts me then."

"That's a good question. Unless you can explain why I have a funny feeling that everything's different since you've popped up, let's say I was just curious."

"May I be curious?"

She gave me a clever smile. "I'm not married either."

THE FOOD WAS GREAT INDEED. While we ate, I asked Astrid about her studies, her job, her little pleasures. I could feel how she relaxed and soon I fell under the spell of her soft, velvety voice. She was smart and interesting, but I would have been just as delighted if she'd read to me from the White Pages. As long as she didn't stop.

"Are you working tomorrow?" I asked when we finished.

"Not until Friday night. My change is due in ten days, but I'm not able to work a few days before it, and I need a day or two to recover."

"Is it always like that?"

She nodded. "What about you? What does your change look like?"

"Nothing like yours. It's easy. Natural. I feel it, sure, but it doesn't hurt. I'm sorry it's such an ordeal for you."

"Would you let me see it?"

"Of course."

"Tell me about ..." She lifted her hand, put it back on the table, lifted it again. Finally, her fingers touched my forearm. I felt the energy of our bond surge between us. I knew she felt it too, and she was about to ask me for the explanation. She held her hand there for a moment, then lifted it up, and placed it back. "About this feeling. I thought if we were close blood relatives that would explain it. But you said we aren't. Is it a werewolf thing, then?"

"How do you feel it?" I asked, avoiding the direct answer. I took her hands between mine. Her skin was warm and smooth. I fought a maddening desire to bring her fingers to my lips and kiss them.

"Like a warm current that starts at the point of contact and spreads over my body." She paused. "Even more, it goes deeper than that. It's as if it goes into my very being, the essence of me. It's gentle, pleasing and potent, all at once."

"I like the way you've described it."

"Is that the way we recognize each other? You feel it too, do you? Is that because we're werewolves?" she repeated the question I'd missed answering earlier. She didn't pull her hands away, letting them rest in mine.

"You're close."

She didn't remove her blue gaze from me, expecting more. I took a deep breath. "Okay, this is a simplified version: it is because you and I are who we are. And yes, this is the way we know each other. It's complex. I'll tell you more about it down the road."

"I can comprehend complex concepts. Try me."

"I know you can, but this can wait." _You'll know as soon as you touch another wolf and feel nothing like this. I'll see your ability to accept new concepts then._ "We have to leave it for another time, Miss Spock. What you feel is good. This is all you need to know now. First, we have to find a way to help you control your shifting." Unable to restrain myself, I stroked the backs of her hands with my thumbs. "We can go hiking tomorrow if you like."

"Sure." She laughed. "Did you just call me Miss Spock? I like it."

"It suits one part of you. Your blaidd benywaidd is everything but, trust me."

For a moment her eyes rested on our hands before she pulled them back and placed them on her lap. "Yin and yang, huh?"

I stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers. "It's you. Two parts of a whole."

"Shall we go?" she whispered and busied herself with her handbag.

I paid the bill and helped her with her coat. My hands briefly brushed her shoulders, triggering the already familiar sensation of our bond.

The butterflies in my stomach were something new.

"OH, I'VE ALMOST FORGOTTEN," Astrid said as we rode home. "Tristan and Liv invited us for dinner tonight."

I'd almost forgotten, too. "Sure. When?"

"Around eight."

"We have plenty of time. Let's go buy some food. Where is the nearest grocery shop?"

"On the next block. A word of warning. I'm not much of a cook."

I wanted to kiss her, but instead, I leaned in and gave her a gentle shoulder bump. It was crazy, that need to touch her. "Don't worry. I am."

"Great. We'll split the grocery bill."

"We will not. I'm a bit traditional in some ways, you know."

She turned sideways to face me. "Well, home cooking isn't traditionally a male job."

I glanced at her. "I'm traditional when it suits me, Miss Spock."

Chapter Six

Astrid

I WATCHED JACK CHOOSING CUTS, fish, vegetables, cans, bottles and all sorts of different packages. He indeed knew food.

"Where did you learn to cook?" I asked.

"In Paris. I went to _Le Cordon Bleu_ culinary school."

I grinned. "A Cordon Bleu chef is going to cook for me. Awesome! When was it?"

"A while ago," he said and changed the topic. "Let's pick some wine for tonight. Are you a white wine or a red wine person?"

"White wine." He obviously didn't want to talk about his culinary experience, so I didn't ask him more about it.

I let him pay the bill. Next time I'd go shopping on my own.

"I'VE HEARD YOU HAVE a beautiful singing voice," Jack said on our way home. "What do you like to sing?"

"Rock. Pop. Opera."

"Opera, huh? Wow."

"I took voice lessons for years. My vocal range is large, over five octaves. I can sing anything."

My voice teachers called my voice "divine". In a way, it was, not only because I was a "magical" creature, but even more because I was a rare exception among my kind: wizards aren't very musical. Werewolves, however, were.

My teachers never understood why I didn't want to be a professional singer. I'd tell them I wanted to be a doctor even more, which was the truth. But even if I didn't, I could have never been a singer. As a doctor, I could blend among humans. My voice would bring too much attention to me. Ella would often say, with regret, that I'd be one of the greatest opera singers the world had ever had.

I'd accepted the reality long ago but always felt as if an important part of me stayed locked deep inside. It was like having wings but not being able to fly.

Jack's voice took me out of my musing. "What opera role would you love to sing the most?"

"The Queen of the Night from Mozart's _The Magic Flute_ ," I said without hesitation.

He lifted one hand from the steering wheel and ran his fingers gently along my jaw. His touch felt wonderful. "Ah. Makes sense. The Queen of the Night is one of the most challenging soprano roles."

Rosenthal was a small place indeed. Before I could comment on Jack's remark, he parked the car in front of my house. He cut the engine and turned to me. "I will find a way for you to fulfill your dream."

A smile danced on his lips and his amber eyes shone. The urge to touch him was overwhelming. I pulled back until my back touched the door and squeezed my hands between my knees. "I can never be an opera singer."

"I know. We'll think of something else." His head came closer. "In the meantime, can you sing the Queen of the Night just for me? I'd love to hear it."

I swallowed hard. My eyes burned with tears that I was trying hard to push back. Sometimes I wished I could be more like my rational wizard kin. "So, you plan to stay around?" I whispered, while my fingers fumbled to find the latch.

He grabbed my wrist and held it. "I definitely am."

"Then I will."

Then he opened his door, walked around the car and then opened my side. He held out his hand. I took it and stepped out.

Sharp night air cleared my thoughts, but my body was under the spell of that incredible sensation that surged through me every time we touched. "God, what's going on?" I murmured to myself, walking toward the door.

"Something special. Don't fight it, Astrid."

I spun around. Jack's voice came from behind, somehow muffled since he was bent over the open trunk, unpacking it. How could he hear me from such a distance? And then I remembered who he was. _What_ he was.

"I've lost my equilibrium since you came," I said quietly.

He straightened up and rested his arm against the still opened trunk lid. "It confuses and scares you, I know. Your logical mind needs logical explanations. This is above logic, I'm afraid. You should listen to your emotions. And you should believe me when I say everything will be fine."

"Now that gives me peace of mind," I said and marched into the house.

ONCE INSIDE, I KICKED OFF my shoes, undressed and went to the bathroom. The long, hot shower calmed me down.

Jack was sitting on the sofa in the living room when I came out, relaxed as if he'd always belonged there.

"The bathroom's yours," I said. "Hurry up."

"A bit bossy tonight, aren't we?" he said with a wry grin and stood up. "Give me ten minutes."

I sat in the same spot he'd been sitting in a moment before, still warm from his body. I leaned my head on the back of the sofa. Jack's scent was trapped in the fabric, and I inhaled it deeply. "This is insane," I whispered and then winced, remembering Jack's sharp hearing.

All I could hear, however, was the sound of the shower. I closed my eyes and continued with my daydreaming until Jack's voice interrupted the flow of my thoughts.

"Astrid, can you please bring me my shampoo? It's in my room."

No way I was going to his room, and _then_ to the bathroom. "Use mine," I yelled.

"I'll smell of strawberries," he said with a chuckle.

Mmm. Musk, soap, strawberries. Delicious. I sighed and stood up. Oh, well, he wasn't going to present himself naked to me.

"Too late, but thanks anyway," he said at the same moment I passed the bathroom.

If his hearing was so uncanny, likely his other senses were too. He could see my aura. He could smell me. I was exposed to him more than I felt comfortable with.

I had to keep it in mind all the time, I thought as I walked to my room to dress. At least here I was safe. The night Jack had arrived, I'd put my bedroom and the bathroom under "visual protection." Jack couldn't see my aura inside them.

When I stepped out a few minutes later, Jack appeared from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. He only had his jeans on. Caught in the narrow hallway, I took a step back to make more room for him.

Jack just smiled at me and strode to his room. Through half-closed eyes, I looked at his muscular and broad back. Hard. Smooth. Powerful.

I swallowed hard. This was the most beautiful male chest I'd ever seen. And I was a doctor; I'd seen lots of chests.

JACK JOINED ME IN THE living room a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a simple dark blue shirt. The sight of him made my legs weak.

"Let's go," I said and grabbed my handbag. "We don't need the car; it's two blocks from here."

"You can't go out like this. Put a coat on, or something," he said, taking in my attire: black cotton slacks and a dusty pink angora sweater. "It's fresh outside." He reached for his leather jacket hanging on the rack.

I took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. "Yes, I can go out like this. I do not need a jacket. It's not that cold."

"Fine. Just don't ask me to give you mine when you start shivering."

"I won't. You'll give it to me yourself."

He opened the door for me. "Is your blaidd benywaidd as independent and confident as you?"

"I guess. I've never seen her," I said as we stepped into the unseasonably warm night.

"I'm looking forward to meeting her. She must be something," Jack said and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

DINNER WAS SIMPLE BUT EXCELLENT. We had grilled ribeye steak with peppercorn sauce and sautéed mushrooms.

Jack's meat and mine were medium rare. The two remaining steaks were grilled a few minutes longer because, oddly enough, our Tel-Urugh friends didn't find the sight of blood on their plates appetizing.

Contrary to popular belief, Tel-Urughs, or at least most of them, were not horrific bloodsuckers feeding on helpless human prey. They ate regular food. Human blood was the source of their energy, vitality and longevity as well as their physical and intellectual power, but they needed only a small amount of it and certainly didn't need to kill humans for it.

As for the misconception that they were cold and lifeless creatures, it couldn't be further from the truth—human blood made their body temperature higher than average.

Like wizards and werewolves, Tel-Urughs were an ancient race. They originated in Mesopotamia, where, much, much later, ancient humans would build their first cities. One of them, the birthplace of the legendary hero Gilgamesh, they would name Uruk, preserving the early connection between the two civilizations in its name.

Tel-Urughs had played a crucial role in humans' transition from nomadic hunter-gatherers to settlers of the early human cities. And as it often happened between humans and the Langaer, Tel-Urughs had become immortalized in human mythology as deities, heroes and sometimes, villains.

Tel-Urughs were _immortal demigods_ , and not _undead humans_ , like true vampires, or _upiri_ , as Langaer called them.

Tel-Urughs had left their homeland and spread all around the world, blended among humans and lived low-key lives. The memories of them had faded, except for one detail—that they needed human blood to survive. The human perception of Tel-Urughs had merged with that of upiri, and they both had become "vampires."

Most Tel-Urughs were like my two friends: altruistic creatures who tried to make the world a better place for all of us. In that way, they were like most wizards and werewolves. And like many humans, after all.

Sadly, we all shared another common trait: Tel-Urughs, as well as wizards, werewolves and humans, could turn evil. Brutality, crime and viciousness were more prominent among humans because of their greater number. But it was even worse when some of us crossed to the dark side because of the immense powers we possessed.

AFTER DESSERT—LIV'S FABULOUS LEMON cheesecake crepes—I followed her into the kitchen under the pretext of helping her make coffee.

"Can they hear us?" I whispered while she managed the ultra-modern double espresso machine, Tristan's newest acquisition, imported from Italy.

"If they bother to listen," she said. "But they are too much of gentlemen for that. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Jack."

"Ah. He makes you nervous, huh?"

I nodded, realizing that I wasn't beyond blushing.

"He's a great man, Astrid." She stepped closer and hugged me. "Relax. Everything's going to be fine."

"The three of you are closer than I thought."

"Jack's been our friend for a long time. We've been together through thick and thin."

A long time, she'd said? How old was Jack?

No. I wasn't ready to know. "I've been feeling very strange since he came," I said instead.

Liv's eyebrow arched. "Define strange."

I shrugged. How do I explain that I liked it so much when he touched me? That I had the feeling I'd known him all my life. That I belonged to him and he to me. That he was mine.

"I can't," I whispered. "It's not logical."

"Fuck the logic," Liv said and winked.

Perhaps, for once in my life, I should try that.

JACK AND I WALKED HOME in silence. The temperature had dropped. I was cold but worked hard to suppress the shivering. No way I'd give him that satisfaction.

Without saying a word, Jack took off his black leather jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It had captured the warmth and scent of his body and I had the silly thought of sneaking it into my room and using it as pajamas.

"Better?" he said.

"Better. Thanks."

I glanced toward the sky. The waxing crescent. I didn't need to look at the moon; I felt its phases under my skin. Or I didn't feel almost anything, like now, but that was a sign, too. It was too early to feel my upcoming transformation.

We reached my place. I wanted him to scoop me up and carry me to his room.

I punched in the key code and opened the door.

"Astrid," Jack said softly, stepping inside beside me. His breath brushed over my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I heard the door close behind us.

I didn't turn to look at him. If I had, I would've taken his hand and dragged him to my bedroom. I swallowed hard. "Jack, I'm not ready for this."

He didn't say anything. I closed my eyes and pressed my head against his shoulder. I could hear his heart beating loud and fast, almost in the same cadence as mine.

His lips touched my neck. "I know, Miss Spock." He sighed and took a step back. The separation of our bodies was almost painful. "I'll wake you up at six if you're still on for hiking."

"Just knock on my door, okay? I'm a light sleeper."

"Okay."

I hurried to my room and closed the door behind me. As I sat on my bed, I realized that I still had Jack's jacket over my shoulders.

Chapter Seven

Astrid

WHEN I OPENED MY EYES, it was ten to six. I jumped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom for a quick morning grooming.

Jack was at his favorite place on the sofa when I joined him shortly after. He was reading something on his phone. His tousled brown hair was damp and smelled of my strawberry shampoo. I tried hard to ignore the other scents that reached my nostrils, that delicious blend of soap and masculinity.

He turned his phone off and stood up. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning to you too," I said and inhaled. "I smell coffee."

"I've checked the trail condition report for this area," he said, motioning at his phone. "They're all dry in lower elevation. Is there any particular place where you'd like to go?"

"We can go to Cricket Falls Trail. I've never been there, but I've heard it's beautiful."

"Sure. Let's eat first," he said and tugged me into the kitchen.

While I sat at the island and sipped my coffee, he made us perfect grilled cheese sandwiches—golden and crusty outside and oozy inside. He cut them into triangles, put two on a plate, and placed it in front of me.

I took a mouthful and closed my eyes savoring it. "Oh, this is good."

"Thank you," he said and sat across from me. "I packed some snacks to keep us until lunch. There are a few restaurants in that area."

We didn't talk much during breakfast and the silence wasn't companionable. Where had the closeness of the previous night gone?

When we finished, I put the plates in the sink and cleaned the table. At seven o'clock we were ready to go.

"My car or yours?" I asked.

"I've rented a truck. My car has all-season tires, as well as yours. There could still be some snow on the road. We'll pick it up at the rental lot and leave my car there."

"May I drive?"

"Be my guest."

IT WASN'T THE BEST DAY for hiking, I thought, as I took the driver's place. The day was cold and dumpy. Before we hit the main road, it started raining in a fine, cold mist.

I enjoyed driving; it'd been months since I sat behind the wheel. Besides, it was an opportunity to leave Rosenthal for a short while and do something else.

I used to go hiking often before I'd been forced to hide out in this small town. I liked rock climbing. That had stopped, too, about a year ago. Along with diving, horseback riding, skiing. I could've asked Liv and Tristan to come with me, of course, but it seemed like an unnecessary luxury. I didn't want to drag them around with me so that I could enjoy my favorite physical activities.

"You're going way over the speed limit," Jack said after glancing at the speedometer. "You don't want the police to stop us."

"No police officer here would give me a speeding ticket. I'm the most popular doctor in Rosenthal," I said but slowed down. "I didn't ask you, is your room okay? Did you sleep well last night?"

"The room's fine. I didn't sleep well, but I don't need lots of sleep anyway. You?"

I glanced at him. "I did. By the way, your jacket is in my room... Why didn't you sleep well?"

His lips drew back in a snarl. "You're sure you want to know?"

He had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Time to change the topic. "Who were these two people from Red Cliffs that kept an eye on me?"

"Alec and Lily Falconer. They're brother and sister. They seem to like you a lot."

"Even though they never talked to me? I'm flattered. I wish I could say the same. But I can't because nobody bothered to tell me about them or introduce us."

"Yeah. I guess you'd have appreciated if they'd come and said, 'Hi, Astrid, we're Alec and Lily and we're going to snoop around a bit. Don't pay attention.'"

"I'd appreciate it more than sending them to babysit me without my knowledge. I can be cooperative, you know. All I expect is to be included in the decisions that affect my life."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have to tell you something, Astrid."

I gave him a sharp look. "It sounds as if you have a confession to make?"

"Sort of. I don't want us to start with mistrust. I was at your house the day we met."

My hands clenched around the steering wheel. "Why?"

He'd needed to know more about me, he said. What was even more important, he had to be sure there were no suspicious scents in my house. "I'm sorry," he finished. "It seemed like a good idea at that moment, for security reasons." He gave me a side look. "You are a security nightmare, you know."

"And you are a security expert?"

He didn't answer, which made me think he, in fact, might be. In any case, he wasn't completely wrong. I'd been causing lots of trouble to everyone by refusing to go to Red Cliffs and staying there until that lunatic Seth was taken care of.

I still didn't like what he'd done, but my anger fizzled out. At least he'd told me. "So, what did you learn about me?" I asked in a conciliatory voice.

"That you have a nightingale floor and that no one suspicious was in your house. That you like music and books. I just looked around. Checked your windows and doors. I didn't open your chests of drawers and kitchen cupboards."

I smirked. "Well, thank you. That makes me feel better. Now, do you mind if I ask _you_ some questions?"

"Ask, but keep in mind that James wants to talk to you about your parents, and your place among us."

"And you're here to do what?"

"I'm here to keep you safe, to help you with the change. I'll do my best to figure out why you suffer so much and to take you safely to Red Cliffs and your family. I wish I could be the one who would tell you everything you need and want to know."

"In other words, you can come into my house and invade my privacy, but you can't tell me what I want to know. You're not authorized. You didn't strike me as someone who would blindly carry out somebody else's orders."

"Your uncle is the _Einhamir_ of Red Cliffs. He's—"

I glanced at him. "Einhamir?"

Jack massaged his temples. "If you had come to live with us, if you hadn't ignored your heritage all your life, you would've known what this means. I wouldn't have needed to invade your privacy, and we wouldn't have fought now."

"Relax. We are just talking. Do you have a headache?"

"We don't have damned headaches!" he snapped. "Ever! You should know that. Also, for us, safety comes before privacy, as it should. As for orders, if you're ready to give them, you need to know how to follow them. I have no problem with that. But my orders aren't the reason why I can't discuss some things with you. It's not my call. Our world is built upon hierarchy. And upon common sense."

Gee, what happened to the Jack from last night?

I threw my hands into the air. "Okay, I got it. Your job is—"

"What are you doing? Hold that steering wheel!"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, I lifted them for a nanosecond. So your job is to take me to Red Cliffs. Like a parcel. My almighty uncle could've sent somebody less important for such a humble job." My outburst was childish and pathetic, but I was hurt. How did he dare? I hadn't even known what my father was until I was almost a teenager.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jack's jaw tighten. "There is a diner over there," he said, pointing to the left. "Let's stop and have coffee."

I pulled into a small parking lot and turned the ignition off.

Jack got out, strode around the truck and pulled my door open. Grabbing Jack's outstretched hand, I jumped out, and took a step forward. Jack's warm fingers circled my wrists as he gently pushed me back until my back touched the door.

His hand moved up and lifted my chin. Mesmerized, I watched as his amber eyes slightly changed shape and darkened. Beneath the golden hue of their depths, a grey shadow was lurking.

"I'm sorry, Astrid," he said softly.

"What do you want from me, Jack?" I said, turning my head away from his gaze. "You tried to seduce me last night. Today you act as if I'm an unpleasant job you have to finish. Did I do something wrong? What happened?"

He rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. "You. You've happened to me." His voice was low and husky, and I trembled from some unknown pleasure. "You're not the only one out of equilibrium. I am too. We happened to each other."

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy. "I don't know what to do. It's overwhelming. I'm losing control. You came two days ago, and I shouldn't be feeling like this. You can't feel so strongly in such a short time."

Jack's lips touched my forehead, eliciting a small sob from my chest. The sweet warmth spread all over my body.

"I know. But we do feel it, so it's possible."

I pressed my hot cheek against the cool fabric of his jacket. Underneath it, I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. "I need more time. I'm logical and common-sense driven. And my logic and my common sense are telling me that I'm going too fast. Way too fast. Zero to one hundred in five seconds."

"I know that, Miss Spock. I apologize for my outburst. It was unfair. It's not your fault you don't know more about us."

I smiled. "Well, I know you're more emotional and temperamental, as you've just demonstrated to me."

" _We_ are emotional. And _we_ trust our emotions. Acknowledge your blaidd benywaidd. Let your heart lead you. It will take you to the same place as your logic, only the journey will be different."

"What about you? This," I touched my chest, then his, "between us, whatever it is, isn't it too fast even for you?"

"It is. I hadn't expected it. You've turned me inside out. But I trust my heart."

The wind picked up and the drizzle turned into cold, heavy rain. Jack wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

"You're shivering," he said. "Let's get back in the truck." The gentle pressure of his hand on my shoulder stopped me as I reached for the driver's door. "Do you mind if I drive?"

I shrugged. "Go ahead. What about coffee?"

He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. "I needed a break and some cold air, not coffee. The truck cabin is too small, and you smell too good."

He held the door open for me. I climbed up and moved to the passenger side. Jack turned on the heat but didn't start the car. Left elbow on the steering wheel, he turned to me and took my hand in his. "I owe you the answer to your question about last night. Why I didn't sleep at all. I fought with all I had not to come to your room."

I rolled my eyes. "And do what? I don't sleep with somebody I've known for two days."

"I'm not _somebody_. And all your logic aside, you would have made love to me, had I come in, you know that."

"Why didn't you come then?"

"Because it's too fast for me, too. I am as confused as you are."

"Ah. My virtue was saved because we're confused and because your gentlemanly side won the battle? Don't flatter yourself, Jack, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and slept all night. Didn't even stir."

"If you'd stayed awake," he said with a cocky smile, "you'd have thought about me all night long."

"My logical side won anyway."

"I don't know about you, but I don't feel like a winner." He pulled me closer and kissed the crown of my head. "Let it be, Astrid."

I buried my nose in his neck and inhaled his scent. Clean, fresh, familiar.

Let things be. Maybe that was all I could do. Everything was upside down anyway, the clear borders between rational and irrational had become somehow much less defined. Against any logic, I was falling in love with this handsome stranger. What was even more bizarre, it felt right.

So be it.

"Resistance is futile anyway, isn't it?" I murmured into his neck, paraphrasing Seven-of-Nine from the Star Trek series, one of my favorite TV characters.

Jack looked at me with a crooked smile. "Interesting. That's what I said to myself only yesterday." He kissed my fingers then pulled out of the parking. "Yes, resistance is futile, so I surrender. Gladly."

Chapter Eight

Jack

THAT EVENING I TOLD ASTRID things she should've known long ago—why she was so precious to us and why her stepfather wanted her for his clan. All her life everybody had tried to shelter her by telling her half-truths, or not telling her anything at all. This had to stop.

It was against James's explicit instructions, but he couldn't predict what would happen between Astrid and me. I was no more only her kinsman; I was her bond mate, and my new place in her life justified my decision.

Curled up in the corner of the sofa, arms wrapped around her knees, Astrid waited for me to start. She looked tense, even frightened.

"Do you know who ellidas are?" I asked, beginning with the heart of the story. Her life was determined by the fact that she was an ellida more than by anything else.

It didn't surprise me when she shook her head.

"Wizards, werewolves, Tel-Urughs and humans are compatible races. They interbreed. Some more often, like werewolves and humans, some seldom. As you know, marriages between wizards and werewolves are infrequent. Not because we avoided each other. No. We simply don't live in proximity and our lifestyles are different. But every now and then a blaidd or a blaidd benywaidd meet and fall in love with an asanni or an _asyr_. When their union produces a female child, she may become something very special—an ellida, the highest authority of a werewolf clan, and its spiritual leader."

Astrid looked at me as if I had lost my mind. "May become _what_?"

"An ellida. That's what you are, Astrid," I said softly. "You're an embodiment of the ancient alliance between wizards and werewolves, chosen by a higher power for your role. You bring prosperity, peace and harmony to your clan."

"Higher power? Ancient alliances? What the hell are you talking about, Jack?" Her voice had come out high pitched and hoarse.

"It's overwhelming. It'll take time for it to sink in."

"I don't know what to say. Do Ella and Gottfried know?"

I nodded.

A snivel escaped from her lips, angry and sad. "How could they keep it from me? Why didn't my uncle tell me?"

"He wanted to tell you. He wanted you to come to Red Cliffs, remember? After your first change. Then after you were almost kidnapped. You refused both times. He thought if you weren't ready to come to Red Cliffs, you weren't ready to become an ellida."

"How could I have been ready if I hadn't known, for heaven's sake?"

I couldn't answer that question. I myself didn't understand why they didn't tell her. I'd been away from Red Cliffs for years, missing most of the drama involving Astrid, her troubles with transformations, her denial of her Red Cliffs roots. "James understood you needed more time. He didn't want to push you, so he asked your grandparents, and later the Blakes, not to tell you until you were ready."

"But if I'd known, I'd have come."

"Well, yes, but he wanted it to be your decision."

"Really? Then why do I have a feeling that I don't have much choice in this matter?"

"You do." At least nominally. Perhaps James was right, perhaps not. Astrid's refusal to have anything to do with her clan hurt him. She was the only daughter of his only brother and he loved her as his own child. He couldn't risk Astrid's animosity by ordering her to come, he'd said. In any case, her stubborn resolve not to come, and James's consequent decision to respect her choice had cost many people lots of headaches: James himself, her grandparents, the Blakes. Oblivious to her importance, she'd underestimated the issue of her safety. They had to keep her alive and secure in the human world, where she was less protected and easier to be found. Besides, I knew James had hoped to deal with Seth once and for all before Astrid joined us.

It turned out we might need _her_ help to take him down.

"How can you be sure I am an ellida, whatever that is?" Astrid asked, interrupting my train of thought. "Maybe you're wrong."

"The physical evidence is your ability to change forms," I said. "Only future ellidas can, not other children of werewolf and wizard parents. Then, ellidas are always the firstborn daughters, even if they have older brothers. The spiritual proof is a bit more difficult to define, but it is said that ellidas combine the best of both their bloods—they are strong, deeply human, selfless, empathetic, wise beyond their age."

She looked skeptical. "Strong, wise beyond my age. Hmm. Anyway, I thought I was able to change because my father was a blaidd."

I shook my head. "If you were not an ellida, you wouldn't be able to change into a blaidd benywaidd."

"Okay, let's say I am. What does it mean? What am I supposed to do?"

"If you decide to come to Red Cliffs, you'll become our ellida."

"And then? You said ellidas are the highest authority of a clan. What does it mean?"

"We'll talk about it some other time, but in short, even though your position comes with immense powers, and you overrule everyone, in practice, it's your presence, your sound mind, your positive influence that makes you an ellida. You'll live a normal life, except that every now and then you'd have to make decisions, sometimes easy, other times tough, that affect other people's lives. Just keep in mind that everything you need to be an ellida is already in you."

She rubbed her forehead. "Aw. This is a huge responsibility. I'm not a leader, Jack. I don't have a desire to be one." She stopped in mid-motion and looked up at me. "What do you mean by 'if I decide'?"

"The ultimate decision is yours, Astrid. No one can force you to accept it."

"And how many ellidas have refused it so far?"

"None, as far as I know."

Astrid closed her eyes, shaking her head. "No pressure, huh? Did Red Cliffs have an ellida before?"

"No, not our own," I said. "Let me start from the beginning. Our clan had two branches, one in Wales, in a place called Gelltydd Coch, and one here. Several kinsmen and their families emigrated to America in the early 1700s. They founded Red Cliffs, and they were soon joined by werewolves from other parts of Europe. Morgaine, the Ellida of Gelltydd Coch, stayed with the Wales clan. She'd been a sort of 'acting ellida' for our clan, and she enjoys great respect in Red Cliffs, but her role has been only advisory. She isn't above the clan hierarchy. She couldn't overrule James's decisions, for example."

"And I can?"

"Yes, _you_ can."

She let out a long breath. "How does Seth fit into this? Why does he want me?"

"Since your father is dead and your mother is still formally married to Seth, he believes you're the ellida of Copper Ridge, not Red Cliffs. He thinks he has a claim on you."

"Claim on me?"

And that wasn't all. "Seth has a son, Darius, from his previous marriage. He wants you to marry him."

Astrid gasped. "Marry him!" She bolted from the seat as if she wanted to flee, then slumped down again. "No! This isn't happening. This is crazy."

"We're talking about an insane man. Seth, I mean. We know little about Darius, except that he seems to be a decent fellow. And quite normal. I don't think he has any role in his father's plans."

Astrid groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Why did nobody tell me?"

"I am so sorry, Astrid."

She looked at me, her eyes misty with tears. "Thank you for telling me. It's a nightmare, but it's _my_ nightmare. I have the right to know. My grandparents treated me like an incompetent child. Oh, I'm so mad. I'm sick of others deciding what's best for me, watching over me, babysitting me and controlling my life." She rubbed her eyes with the soles of her hands. "I want to ask you about my Dad."

"I'll tell all I know. But not now. You've had enough for one day."

She slowly nodded, tired, and brushed away the tears slipping down her cheek.

"Jack, please hold me," she whispered through a sob. "I'm afraid I'll shatter." Her voice was low, and she sounded so tired and sad that I thought my heart would break.

I was beside her in a blink, wrapping myself around her. Her body shook, she was pale and breathed in shallow, fast gasps. I cradled her, telling her with my touch, with my body, with the beating of my heart, that I'd always be her rock and her anchor.

She leaned her head against my chest. "I can hear your heart," she whispered. "It's strong but a bit too fast."

"Maybe you should have a look at it one of these days, doctor. Although, I think we know the reason why it's acting silly."

"I'm tired. I want to sleep. Don't go, Jack," she said in a thick voice. She lifted her head with a notable effort. In the soft light of the floor lamp, her eyes looked strangely dark.

"Sleep, Astrid. I won't go anywhere."

"Will James be angry with you for telling me this? You disobeyed his orders."

"I don't think so. Your uncle is a great leader because, among other things, he believes rules should sometimes be bent and orders disobeyed."

"He seems a wise man, my uncle," she said and closed her eyes.

When her breathing became deep and regular, I pressed my back against her pink pillow on the sofa arm. Astrid stretched over me. She was warm and smelled good. I buried my head in her long, thick hair, that magnificent cascade of every possible shade from golden blond to rich, warm brown, lightened here and there with brilliant copper strings. "You're the most beautiful asanni I've ever seen," I whispered into that hair that smelled of strawberries and sunshine. "And you're mine."

I kissed her and held her tight, hoping my love would be strong enough to keep away the demons lurking in her dreams.

IT WAS THAT LONG, PITCH dark hour before dawn when I opened my eyes, a bit stiff after hours of laying on the narrow sofa in the same position. But it was only a minor discomfort. Astrid's solid, warm body splayed over mine felt wonderful. It felt like home. Her head was buried between my neck and shoulder. I inhaled her scent and kissed her hair.

She stirred and opened her eyes.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said in a deep voice, raspy from sleep and desire.

"Everything will be fine. I'm here and I won't let anybody hurt you," I whispered. "I'll keep you safe."

"I feel safe with you. Hold me. You make me feel whole."

My arms tightened around her back in a protective grip. "As long as you want, Miss Spock," I said and kissed the crown of her head.

"It's not Miss Spock," she said. "She's boring."

What? What the hell had she tried to say?

Before I could ask her, her body relaxed and her breathing became deep and even. She soon fell asleep.

I followed her suit.

Chapter Nine

Astrid

I WOKE UP ON THE sofa, Jack's strong, hard body beneath mine, his morning erection pressing into the softness of my belly.

He smiled at me from below. "You have impossibly blue eyes," he said in a low voice, raspy with sleep. His hand reached up for a lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear.

I nodded and swallowed, not trusting myself to speak. All I wanted was to make love to him. He wanted it, too.

Except that I had no clue how I ended up atop Jack.

"Hungry?" he asked. If he noticed my confusion, or my arousal, for that matter, he didn't show it.

"Uh-huh."

"I'll make breakfast." He closed his arms around my back and pulled us both up into a sitting position. Sliding his hands under my butt, he lifted me up as if I were weightless and then lowered me beside him. He pushed himself to his feet, took my hand and yanked me up. "How about an omelet?"

"Sounds great." He put his hand of the small of my back and gave me a gentle push. "Bathroom's yours."

I showered, brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a messy chignon. I put on jeans and an azure blue mohair sweater.

"Your turn," I said when I came to the kitchen, ten minutes later. "I'll make us coffee."

"The coffeemaker's ready. Just press the button." His eyes ran over me, head to toe. "Blue suits you."

When Jack joined me in the kitchen, he took my breath away. He wore loose-fitted jeans and a three-button shirt that matched the soft amber color of his eyes. His hair was wet from showering. He was barefoot, and he smelled wonderful.

I smiled inwardly. Jack Canagan was a man who carried his immense masculinity naturally like his skin.

"How are you?" he asked, pressing a quick kiss on my temple.

"Fine. I guess. It's a lot to process."

He took his hand in mine. "You're doing great, Miss Spock. I'm impressed. Really."

The warmth spread through my body, that strange, exciting connection with this man.

I can do anything now that I have you.

The thought startled me. It was mine, yet it wasn't. It was like someone else had put it in my mind and made it mine.

I threw Jack a suspicious glance. Had he just tried to do a tallin on me?

His eyebrow arched. "What?"

"You can manipulate someone else's thoughts, right?"

"Yes. We do that to humans when it's necessary. Why do you ask?"

"And when exactly is it necessary?"

"When they see what they shouldn't." He walked me to the island and pulled out the chair for me. Then he opened the fridge and took out a carton of eggs, ham and cheese. "We're careful, but it happens. Sometimes they stumble upon us while we shift or see us in our other form. We resemble wolves, of course, only we're much bigger. We have to erase that from their memory. We use various Talsyns to do that. Such memory changes are harmless but usually permanent. In fact, I think only ellidas may reverse them."

He found a bowl in the first cupboard he opened, took it out and cracked several eggs in it. "The whisk?"

"The second drawer on the left."

"It only happens outside of our territory," Jack continued as he chopped the ham and set it on a small plate. "We're safe within our borders and among our humans. They live among us, they know about us. They are our friends, relatives, spouses. We belong to the same realm."

"Gwerin, right? That's what you call them."

Jack smile. "You remembered. Good."

The coffee was ready. Jack poured us two cups and slid one toward me. I blew on it and sipped it. "You have to show me how you make coffee. Yours is so much better than mine."

He winked. "I have a secret ingredient. A touch of passion for coffee." He passed me a chunk of cheese and the grater. "Shred some cheese, will you?"

"Sure," I said and bent to reach a plate sitting on the edge of the island. "How do you deal with outside visitors? Red Cliffs is a ski center. You must have plenty of regular humans coming and going."

"We do. They don't see anything unusual because we're protected by powerful magic. Even if something looked a bit odd, they wouldn't remember a thing as soon as they leave our boundaries. We have a few other tricks at our disposal, as well, like changing our appearance, although not all of us can do it. I can't." He glanced at the small heap of grated cheese in front of me. "That will do. Thank you."

I passed him the plate. "Can you read or sense other peoples' thoughts?" I tried once more, prompted by that strange thought that was and wasn't mine.

"Only humans', and only to a certain extent, but again, it's for safety reasons. I can sense a great deal, but it happens more through my nose than through my mind. And I'm talking about werewolves in general. Our skills vary from individual to individual, though. Why are you asking?"

"Oh, it's nothing," I said. _I'm just hearing voices. And the funny thing is, I'm more amused than concerned._ "I want to know more about you."

" _Me_ , Jack, or _us_ , werewolves?"

"What do you think?"

"So what do you want to know about me?" he said with a smile and poured the egg mixture into the pan, tilting it and moving the cooked portions with a spatula before he placed ham and cheese filling on one side and folded the omelet.

"What is your position in Red Cliffs?"

"I don't hold any position right now." He grabbed a plate, and with a quick flip of the wrist, he slid the omelet onto it.

"And my uncle?" I asked. "He's the Red Cliffs—what's the word? Einhamir, right? You mentioned it yesterday. I thought your leaders are called chieftains. Or alphas."

"It's the same concept. Einhamir is one of those old words that are still in use. _Eiggi einhamir_ is what the early Celtic tribes called us. It means 'not of one skin.' We shortened it to einhamir and adopted it as the official title for a clan's alpha male. Einhamir sounds, let's say, less zoological than alpha."

Jack divided the omelet in two, tossed two slices of bread into the toaster and refilled our mugs with coffee.

"What's the official title of an alpha female, then? Einhamiress?"

Jack rubbed his chin. "Uh. How about _Einhamir's Beloved Wife_? There's no official title for her, and please don't be pissed off. She's an alpha female, that's it."

I pursed my lips and let out a dry snort. "So, the female title is more zoological."

"Now that you mention it, I can see that, too."

"Well, that's something to work on, then," I said. "Einhamir's not a hereditary position, is it? Your father was the previous einhamir, but you didn't automatically replace him when he died. My uncle did."

"No, it's not inherited. The clans choose their einhamirs. Sometimes, although rarely, einhamirs die, more often they retire, sort of, or they need to be replaced, like Seth now. Or a new, better leader emerges." He smiled. "Or it could happen that a chosen einhamir feels he's not ready for the job. Red Cliffs wanted me to be their einhamir after my father died, but back then, it didn't seem like a good idea to me, so James temporarily took the 'office.' He's been keeping it for me since then. He'll step out when I'm ready to take over."

"Interesting," I said. Jack's voice was even, neutral. Maybe too much so. I had a feeling there was more to this story.

The bread popped out of the toaster. Jack put it on the plate and cut it into triangles. "Let's eat while it's still warm."

My stomach growled, reminding me of how hungry I was. I forked a piece of omelet into my mouth. "Oh, this is heavenly."

"Well, thank you." He took a bite of his food and nodded as he chewed. "Not bad," he said and washed it down with a gulp of coffee.

"So you're going to be the einhamir?" I said.

"Yes. Soon probably."

"Why have you changed your mind?"

He leaned forward and gave me a light kiss. He tasted like coffee and brown sugar. "I'm ready now."

I wondered if my future role as an ellida had anything to do with Jack's sudden change of heart. Likely. "What did you do while James was doing your job?"

"I studied, traveled, lived in many different places and on different continents."

"What's your job?"

"Was. Special missions. My contract expired and I'm not going to renew it."

"Oh! That's why you called me a security nightmare! You _do_ know about security!"

"I told you so. Anyhow, my job was to get somebody's butt out of some dangerous places, after other methods failed, or when they didn't want to try them at all. Helped quite a few of your colleagues trapped in various war zones."

I wasn't surprised. It fit him perfectly. "That's a noble job."

"Not any nobler than yours. As I said, many of those we rescued were doctors. I've always been impressed with their courage and determination to go to such places to help others."

"Who else are your usual charges? Besides doctors."

"People without common sense or good judgment about where they should or shouldn't be. Hostages, journalists, too-adventurous tourists."

"Did you work alone?"

He cut an extra-cheese corner of his omelet and brought it to my mouth. "Open up. I was teamed with my friend, Adam Mackenzie. He's also a blaidd. You'll meet him."

Jack's finger touched the corner of my mouth, brushing away a breadcrumb. Shivers of pleasure all over my body.

"You like when I touch you, do you, Miss Spock?" Jack said.

I blushed. "Yes. Your touch feels incredible."

He brushed his knuckles over my cheek. "Likewise. Are you working today?"

"Night shift. Why?"

"Let's finish breakfast and go for a walk. Your proximity is killing me. You smell too good. You feel too good. If we stay in the house, we might end up in the bedroom."

What's wrong with that?

Had I said it or had it been yet another mine-but-not-mine thought had popped into my mind? For a moment, I wasn't sure.

But Jack was right. The air was crackling with sexual energy. Contained in my tiny house, we overwhelmed each other. We both needed to cool down.

Chapter Ten

Astrid

OUTSIDE, JACK WRAPPED HIS ARM around my shoulder and I tucked my thumb through the belt loop of his jeans.

After last night's rain, the morning was sunny. I breathed in clean and moist air that smelled of earth and spring. As we walked, people greeted us, or waved from the other side of the street, smiling at me and throwing curious glances at Jack.

"You're indeed popular here, _Dr. Duplant_ ," Jack said, pressing his lips to my temple.

"I like this town." My stomach clenched at the thought that I'd leave it soon. I'd miss it.

We went to Café Flamingo, on the main street. Anthony, the young guy behind the coffee machine, smiled at me. Jack got a polite nod. After a casual, "The same, Doc?" Anthony grabbed a warmed white cup for my espresso. Jack ordered a cappuccino.

He found a quiet table in the corner. Jack pulled out a chair for me and sat beside me. His arm slid around my waist. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the warmth of his touch embrace me from the inside. Jack smiled. He felt it, too.

We didn't talk, enjoying the moment.

Anthony brought our order. I took a sugar packet from the holder, tore the top and sweetened my espresso with half of its contents. A small teaspoon sat on the saucer. I grabbed it, stirred my coffee then licked the spoon, pressing it to my lower lip for a moment. I always liked the feeling of the warm, sweet, coffee-smelling metal against the tender skin of my mouth.

Jack had watched me through my little ritual with a lingering smile on his face.

"What?"

He leaned closer. "So sexy," he whispered. "The way you lick the spoon."

I flushed and my pulse quickened. An image of a different kind of licking darted through my mind.

And a naughty thought. Mine, but not quite.

I brought the cup to my mouth, took a swallow. "I have to tell you something," I said, retreating into the safety of a less sensual topic. "Sometimes when I'm unsettled, like last night, I try to sleep it off."

Jack took the sugar packet I'd opened earlier and sprinkled the foamy top of his coffee. The sugar stayed on the surface for a while then sank. He reached for my spoon, mixed his cappuccino then blew on it to cool it down and tasted it. His tongue licked the trace of foam from his upper lip.

My head spun as another licking-related scene popped into my mind.

"That's not unusual. It's a defensive mechanism," Jack said with a roguish smile that made me wonder if he'd commented on my previous statement or he'd somehow read my sultry thoughts.

I tore my gaze from his mouth to regain my equanimity. This was a serious discussion, after all. "Er, it is. But losing a chunk of time isn't. I woke up lying across you. I don't remember how that happened. I sat on the sofa and we talked. I was upset with my grandparents for not telling me the truth. I remember that. The next thing I knew, I woke up sprawled over you. I'm on top of you."

Jack pushed his cup aside and took my hand in his. "You wanted me to hold you."

I shook my head. "That part I don't recollect."

He took my chin between his fingers and studied my face. "Something's been nagging me since last night. Now I know what. Your eyes, Astrid. At one moment last night, they took on a dark, brownish hue. I thought it was because of the light. But it can't be. You have such intense blue eyes. And your voice changed, just a tad. It was deeper, huskier." He swallowed. "More carnal. Do you remember asking me if I'd be in trouble for telling you about Seth and your place in Red Cliffs?"

"No. Will you?"

"I won't," he said. He leaned in and brushed my lips with his. "I think I know why you have those memory lapses and troubles with shifting. Your human and your wolf spirits aren't connected yet. Your little beast roams free. That's the only logical explanation. When your blaidd benywaidd thinks it's too much for you, she steps in and takes over, even though you don't change form. Make any sense?"

I sat silent, thinking of his words. He might've been right. Two bloods ran through my veins. Compatible, yes, but very, very different. Two spirits lived inside me. My dynes and my blaidd benywaidd. Very different and, so far, not so compatible.

I looked up at Jack and nodded. "I think I can feel her. Recently I've been having funny thoughts and feelings. I know they're mine, but I don't know where they come from. They're out of character."

"Or there is, perhaps, a different side of you?"

"Possibly. If they come from her, my blaidd benywaidd seems more relaxed than I. Less serious. Fun-loving. _Sexy, naughty._ Jack, should I be worried?"

Jack tapped the tip of my nose with his finger. "I don't think so. Most of us are born with our spirits connected, but sometimes, like with children whose one parent is a human, for example, it doesn't happen right away. We all assumed your spirits connected during your first change. It seems they didn't. As a result, your blaidd benywaidd and your dynes fight for dominance."

"Like a sibling rivalry, huh? But they're going to connect, aren't they? They won't stay separate forever?"

"No. They'll connect. They always do, sooner or later."

"When? How?"

I caught a flicker of a smile in his eyes. "Soon. As to how, I think I know, but let me talk to Ellida Morgaine first."

I tilted my head, eyeing him. "You look amused."

He smiled and stroked my cheek. "It's nothing to be afraid of. Believe me."

"Why do I hurt before the change?"

Jack scratched his head. "I don't know. It doesn't make much sense. But once your spirits are joined, I believe the pain will be gone."

I grabbed my cup and drained the last sip of my espresso. "It's unsettling to know there's a part of you that you can't control."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Jack said. "It's not a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde scenario. Your blaidd benywaidd might be more laid back than you, but she shares the same basic character traits and ethical values as you."

So I hoped. Their coexistence didn't always seem harmonious.

WHEN WE LEFT THE CAFÉ, we walked back home hand in hand.

I pondered my unconnected spirits—if that was the case—and Jack's laconic answer about how they could connect. Why did he need to talk to none other than Ellida Morgaine about it? Was something wrong with me?

"Jack, about those sporadic cases you mentioned. You know, when two spirits don't connect at birth. How do they connect?" I asked as we turned onto my street.

"It happens spontaneously around puberty. Usually."

_Usually?_ "And if not then?"

"It happens eventually. It's never been that they stayed unconnected, rest assured."

"I have to know how they—"

He cut my inquiry short with a long, tender kiss, scooped me up and carried me to the door.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he lowered me down on the chair in the hallway and pulled off my boots.

"Not yet."

"We'll have an early dinner. You're working tonight."

"We need to talk. I need to know—"

He towed me to the kitchen. "I know. We will talk. But first things first." He washed his hands above the sink, dried them with a paper towel and turned to inspect the contents of the fridge. "How about halibut steaks in wine and dill sauce and grilled asparagus?"

"What should I do?" I said.

He tossed me the bunch of asparagus. "Rinse it and break off the tough ends." Grabbing the fish, vegetables and herbs, he moved to the island.

I held the asparagus under cool running water, placed it in the colander to drain and claimed my working place across from Jack.

I snipped the asparagus piece by piece and watched him from under my lashes. He seemed absorbed in his task, preparing the fish fillets for grilling, chopping the herbs, looking for the pans and pots in my cupboards. In my small kitchen, he looked even bigger than his six foot three but managed nonetheless to move with natural ease and elegance.

His T-shirt snugged his broad shoulders and graceful, long muscles. His forearms were lightly dusted with soft brown hair. His hands were big and strong and brought up a whole bunch of wild images in my head.

I had a million and one questions to ask, but Jack's presence in such limited space was overwhelming. He attracted me like a magnet, but it wasn't only the sexual chemistry. Not that there wasn't an abundance of it, but it was more than that. Jack radiated irresistible vitality and energy, and I responded to that call with insane enthusiasm as if I had been waiting for it my entire life.

In my small kitchen, we constantly brushed and bumped against each other. I could smell his arousal; I could clearly see it through his jeans. I had no doubt that with his sharp senses, Jack could smell and see my excitement. It was crazy, and it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me.

Was I really an ellida? I still wasn't convinced. If I were, shouldn't I feel it somehow? In spite of my doubts, Red Cliffs seemed to believe I was, otherwise Uncle James wouldn't have sent his most competent, reliable and loyal kinsman to bring me to him. Or was it Jack's idea? Could Jack have predicted this strange instant attraction between us? Did my uncle anticipate it?

The questions multiplied by a geometric progression. The answers were incomplete, illogical, confusing and sometimes scary.

Every time we touched, I felt the warm current splash over me. I should've gotten used to it by now, but the sensation was so thrilling that every time it seemed like new. It also made me want Jack with an almost unbearable longing I knew we couldn't fulfill. Not today.

I pushed the asparagus toward him, dumped the discarded ends into the garbage bin. "I'm just in your way." I dried my hands on the kitchen towel and without a word retreated to the living room, uncertain how I would react if my body touched his one more time.

Jack didn't try to stop me. He understood.

I curled up on the sofa and reached for _The Name of the Rose_ under the table. Pretending to read it, I let my mind roam free and wild.

Like my wizard kin, I was capable of performing more than one mental act at once, but this time I chose not to. The book was there for Jack's sake only.

"You okay there?" I heard him.

No, I wasn't. "Uh-huh. Need any help?"

"I'm okay."

I buried my nose in the book. I should not forget to turn the page from time to time, I thought. Jack might be busy grilling the fish, but his senses were focused on me.

One thing was certain: What I felt for Jack was a new experience. I had been in love before. I'd broken a heart or two and my own heart had ached on a few occasions. In fact, I'd come here after I'd ended a year-long relationship. But it'd never been enough. Not enough to give and not enough to receive.

Inside me I carried emotions I couldn't express, a longing I couldn't satisfy, dreams yet to fulfill. I often wondered if I would find a man who'd recognize them, a man who'd give me what I needed to be complete. A man who would let me complete him.

I'd heard about love at first sight, but I didn't know there was love at first _touch_. Not until I'd found Jack in my backyard.

He hadn't told me the complete truth about that incredible, indescribable feeling that rushed through my body—and his—every time we made physical contact. And if a single touch, a simple brush of skin, was more sensual, more erotic, more arousing, more connecting than anything I'd ever felt before, what would happen when we made love?

An entirely new world was waiting to be discovered and explored, I sensed, and at its entrance stood Jack, my handsome kinsman with his outstretched hands, waiting for me.

JACK CAME OUT OF THE kitchen and leaned on the doorframe. My heart made a mighty thump.

"Dinner's ready."

"It smells wonderful. I closed the book, pushed it under the table and jumped to my feet.

_Lucky girl. He looks gorgeous_ and _he cooks._

Another of those funny thoughts. But now I knew it was my blaidd benywaidd, vocalizing what I felt.

Jack moved aside to let me pass, but my arm brushed against him, and I shivered, feeling the warm tide inside me.

I turned to face him. The amber allure took my breath away. We stood in the doorframe, unable to move. "When I touch another werewolf, I will not feel the same sensation I feel when I touch you, right?" I asked softly.

He held my gaze. "You won't."

"Good. And you don't feel it when you touch somebody else?"

"No. And I had never felt it before I touched you."

"So it's yours and mine. Now tell me what it is?"

Jack placed his hand on the small of my back and gave me a gentle push. "Let's eat first."

Chapter Eleven

Jack

AFTER DINNER, WE MOVED TO the living room. I sat on the sofa, Astrid across from me in the armchair. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It seemed to be her favorite position.

"I'm listening, Jack."

I took a deep breath. She wouldn't like this. The concept of bonding would clash with her innate sense of freedom. "As I said, what we feel happens between werewolves and it is because of who we are," I started. "But there's more."

"Of course there is more. It'd be awful to share such an intimate sensation with every single one of you."

She raised the perfect arch of her eyebrow and her eyes found mine. I savored them for a moment, holding her gaze and thinking how I'd never seen eyes more beautiful: almond-shaped, with luminous, intense blue irises, and thick, dark brown lashes. At that point, I was sure her wolf eyes were amber, like mine, and I knew, once Astrid's spirits were connected, her eyes would change too. I wondered what their permanent color would be.

I wanted her closer. I needed to feel her. "Why don't you sit here with me?" I asked.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It would distract you."

I rubbed my chin. "Very well then. What we have is called 'love at first sight' among humans and 'blood call' among Tel-Urughs. We call it a 'bond'—"

She clasped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no! I've heard about it! It's not love at first sight. It's much more serious. We're tied up forever."

"Yes, but..."

She threw her hands in the air. "I didn't have a choice! I thought it was some sort of crazy chemistry. But this! I've been thrown at you like a spell! You would've felt the same for me if I'd been stupid and ugly. You would've been tied to me even if you had somebody else."

"But you are smart and beautiful, and I don't—"

She put her hands on her hips. "Do you have someone else?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

"Then we're good," I said, taken aback by the intensity of her reaction. And hurt a bit.

She shook her head. "We're not. You don't know me, and I don't know you. At least not enough for something so definitive as a mating bond."

Astrid was more upset with the bonding than with anything else she'd heard these past few days. I tried a rational approach, remembering Tristan's bonding philosophy. "People are not bonded so randomly. There is usually a solid base for further development."

"For heaven's sake, Jack, it's like an arranged marriage. We didn't have a choice."

"People who fall in love at first sight also don't have a choice."

"Right, but they can fall out of love if it doesn't work. We can't."

"You're not thinking sensibly, Astrid. Why does this upset you so much? You were fine yesterday with me in your life. What's changed so dramatically?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "It's another thing I have no control of. I wanted you to build a relationship. I wanted you to fall in love because of who I was, not because some random power threw me in your path. I like this crazy attraction between us, but I also want you to choose me, not to take me because I was chosen for you. If this makes any sense."

It did. My arrival had turned her life upside down. She'd been cool with many things she'd learned, but this was the last straw and she'd snapped. She'd come around, though. She just needed some time. The bond would take care of it.

I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her tight until she forgot about anything but me. But I stayed in my place on the sofa, and she in her armchair, head resting on her knees, sad and quiet.

"It's like an arranged marriage," she said.

"You said that already. Yes, it is, but arranged marriages can be happy and successful. Astrid, I do like who you are, and you like me, I know that. Why don't we take it from there and we'll see where it can take us?"

"It happened when I touched you the first time, in the backyard, didn't it? You winced; you knew what it was. Have you ever been bonded before?"

"I haven't. I was shocked, too. It made me uneasy for the same reasons—it's definitive, it's unbreakable and it's eternal. It was scary. Why do you think I was so edgy yesterday? It was the aftershock. It hit me harder than the bond itself."

Her eyebrow arched. "And now you're okay with it? Just like that?"

"Resistance is futile, we've agreed upon that."

"I knew something was off. I wanted to have sex with you right away."

"It's not a bad way to start a relationship."

She lifted one shoulder. "True, if you look for a one-night-stand kind of relationship. I see relationships as emotional investments, work in progress." She narrowed her eyes. "I bet I'm not your type of woman."

Where did _that_ come from? "What would you know about it?"

Her lips curved upward, her nostrils flared. "Blond, curvy, feminine, sweet, I guess."

"Cross out the sweet part. Add smart as a whip and self-confident, in a skin-tight catsuit instead of the Starfleet uniform."

"Ah. Seven of Nine. I can't even be jealous, I like her, too."

I reached out and took Astrid's hand. "But you know, I'm not that exclusive. I like brunettes too, although I just discovered the appeal of those with golden-brown hair. Now, what's your type of man?"

"I don't have a specific type.

"Come on. What about your movie crushes?"

She looked at me from under her lashes. "Chris Pine. The young Captain Kirk. There."

"I'm taller and better looking," I said and stood up, pulling Astrid to her feet. "I cook and I can sing."

"You can sing?"

"Yep."

"I'm scared," she said quietly. "My life is spinning out of control. In the last three days, I learned that I was an ellida, about Seth and his crazy plans, about my parents. Now the bond. We didn't have a choice but to fall in love with each other, did we? It sounds so indefinite."

I bent my head and scraped my teeth over her earlobe. "It's not necessarily a bad thing, trust me," I whispered and started singing Leonard Cohen's _I'm Your Man_ in a soft voice, dancing her to the music of the song.

I stopped after the first stanza and brushed my fingers through her hair. "This will do for now. I'll keep singing it to you, part by part. When I finish the whole song, you'll be in love with me. I promise. Not because you swallowed a love potion, but because you want me. And if you're not ready, I'll sing it again, until you give up and love me like you've never loved before."

A sob broke out from her chest when I finished. "Oh, Jack. This is one of my most favorite songs ever."

"See? We do have things in common, Astrid Mohegan. This is one of _my_ favorite songs as well. We both like Seven of Nine. Darn, I even like Chris Pine's Captain Kirk."

She tucked her head in the hollow below my collarbone. "I'm not sure I'm strong enough for what is waiting for me," she said so quietly that I could barely hear her.

I took her chin between my thumb and index finger and lifted her head.

"It's a journey, Astrid," I said softly, looking into the dazzling blue depth of her eyes. "But you're not traveling alone. I'm going with you."

"Oh, Jack. This bonding thing worked fast. I think I'm in love with you," she whispered. Her hands moved and encircled my neck. I rested my forehead against hers.

Everything else ceased to exist.

"JACK, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME how I'm going to make my spirits connect?" Astrid asked me later that afternoon. She was getting ready for work and I was wondering what I was going to do while she was at the hospital. "You said you could help me. How?"

"I believe I can but let me talk to Ellida Morgaine first," I said, putting on my jacket.

It should be quite simple. Or, at least, it was simple for half human half werewolf offspring. It might not apply to Astrid. I hoped Ellida Morgaine would have a definitive answer.

"Jack?" Astrid's voice took me out of my musings. "Don't tell me I have to go through some ritual."

"Well, you do, but—"

"I once read a novel—"

"What novel?" he asked, amused.

Her face turned red, but a tiny smile danced on her face. "About a werewolf girl who had to have sex with the whole pack in order to stay sane. Sometimes there is a kernel of truth in these stories, you know."

"And? Did she stay sane?"

She licked her lips. "Not only that, but she ended up bonded to two of them. Couldn't decide which one she liked better."

I grabbed her wrist, pulled her against my chest and closed my arms around her. "Two, huh? You little fox. Well, such things could happen only in fiction, I assure you."

"Phew, what a relief. Why can't you tell me then? Do I need to hunt? Tear somebody's throat and spill his guts?"

"Your initiation would be more, how to say, one on one," I said and gave her butt a light smack. "Are you ready?"

Astrid picked up her purse from the chest of drawers. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Is Tristan working tonight?"

"No. He's the CEO, he doesn't work night shifts."

"Then I'll go to see him and Liv." I put on my jacket and fished for the car keys.

"Will you pick me up in the morning? After eight?" Astrid asked.

"Sure."

I opened the door and let her out. "One more thing, Miss Spock."

She stopped and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Yes?"

"When you have time, will you tell me more about that novel you mentioned? Sounds intriguing."

"I can do more than that," she said with a coquettish smile. "I can read it aloud for you."

Chapter Twelve

Jack

I SAT IN MY CAR in the hospital visitor parking. I needed a few undisturbed and private moments to speak to Ellida Morgaine in Gelltydd Coch.

I scrolled through my contact list, found her name and pressed the call button. She answered on the first ring.

After I reassured her Astrid was safe and sound, I told Morgaine my observations about Astrid's unconnected spirits. She wasn't surprised, which made me believe she had come to the same conclusion long before me. Why she hadn't shared it with me or anyone else, only she knew.

As I suspected, Astrid indeed would need my help to connect her loose parts. The ellida only warned us not to do it until right before Astrid's transformation. This month, or next, she'd said, it didn't matter. The timing did—a day before the full moon.

I ended the call with at least some answers.

LIVIA OPENED THE DOOR a moment before I pressed the bell. "Hi Jack," she said and kissed my cheek. "How's Astrid?"

"Why don't you ask how I am?" I said entering the Blakes' spacious living room. Tristan appeared from the kitchen with a tray with three espressos on it. "Double, half teaspoon of sugar," he said and passed me a cup.

"I've told her about the bond," I said and sat down in an armchair.

Livia covered her mouth to suppress a giggle.

The corners of Tristan's lips curved upward. "Is she still in the country, or can we soon expect her phone call from Nepal?"

"She feels fit to do her night shift, so she's fine. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of the bond, of course. It doesn't sit well with her sense of independence, but overall, I'm impressed with how she accepted it."

"Didn't I tell you you'd like her? How did _you_ take it, Jack?" Liv said, grinning.

"I've decided to take your husband's advice and forget about the bond and everything. I like her a lot, Liv. And that's all I'm going to say on this topic."

Liv smiled. "I'll let it be, Jack. For now."

I took a sip of strong, aromatic coffee and smiled, thinking about Astrid. "I think I know why she suffers through the change, but first you need to tell me everything _you_ know. How does it look? How long does it last?"

"Liv, you've seen more than I have," Tristan said. Then to me, "Astrid doesn't allow me to be with her in the same room when she shifts. I stay outside until she's done, both ways."

"At the beginning, she's quiet, then becomes quite talkative," Livia said. "Once she changes, all the verbal communication stops. I can't get into her wolf mind any more than I can get into her human's. She's in pain a few days before, and it intensifies as she approaches the change. Her eyes change color."

"From blue to amber?"

Livia's eyebrows arched. "Yes. How do you know?"

"I saw it."

Two heads snapped toward me. "What? When?" Tristan and Liv asked in unison.

"Last night. Only a glimpse of it. What else can you tell me?"

"She has a high fever, body aches, chills, shivering and shallow breathing. It's similar to flu symptoms. It stops when she takes wolf form, but then she's exhausted. She recovers in a day or two once she shifts back into her human form."

"Have you seen the actual change?"

"I have, Tristan hasn't. It's fast, Jack. Much faster than you do it."

"I'm wondering if that causes the pain," Tristan said.

"Jack, she does it in the blink of an eye," Livia said. "One moment she's Astrid, then something undefined, and then, in the blink of an eye, she's a wolf. A huge wolf. She's breathtakingly beautiful. You'll see."

I would see, I thought, in a few days. I would change, too, and be with her, and talk to her. She wouldn't feel alone anymore.

A distant sound of several emergency vehicles heading toward the same point interrupted my thoughts. I glanced at Tristan and Liv. They heard it, too.

"What do you think, Jack? Why is her change so dramatic?" Tristan asked. "Can you help her?"

"Her wolf spirit needs to be connected to her human spirit. Her blaidd benywaidd and her dynes are still separate."

"How did that happen?" Livia asked. "Aren't your spirits connected at the moment of birth?"

"Not necessarily. In some cases, they connect much later." I told them about the exceptions, and the ways such spirits could unite. "Astrid's didn't connect with the first change, and she hasn't been in contact with us."

"Ah." Livia gave me a devious little smile. Of course, she knew what the remedy was. "Splendid. Sex as a cure."

I redirected my eyes to Tristan. "It makes perfect sense," he said. "So simple. Funny that no one thought about it."

"I've never known anyone whose spirits weren't connected at birth. I just heard about such cases. It's rare."

"She's a rare creature," Tristan said.

His phone hummed. "It's Astrid," he said as he glanced at the display. "Hey. What's going on?"

"I need you to come immediately," I heard her confident and calm voice.

"On my way," Tristan said as he rose. "Talk to me."

"A family was in a car accident. Two girls, ages five and seven, not badly injured. No internal injuries, no head injuries. The father's in bad shape, but he'll make it. You'll do him. The mother's in critical condition. They're prepping her. Dr. Demir and I will start right away. She was a heartbeat from death. I stabilized her, but I'm not sure. She's suffered massive internal injuries." She continued in Latin medical terminology. Then Liv closed the door behind her husband, and I couldn't hear Astrid anymore.

Liv let out a deep sigh and sat down across from me. "They're in good hands. If anybody can save them, it's Astrid, Tristan and Dr. Demir."

"The anesthesiologist?" Tristan had told me about him. Dr. Ahmed Demir was a blaidd. "I'm looking forward to meeting him. Now, why did Astrid call Tristan? Why not somebody who's already there?"

"Because of the severity of the injuries. She doesn't trust anybody more than Tristan and Dr. Demir. And vice versa. Tristan gave her that authority, to call whomever she thinks will be the best."

"They must be quite a team, then," I said.

"Oh, you bet. Did Astrid tell you how they ended up working together?"

When Astrid moved there, Liv explained, Tristan wanted to be close to her while she worked. There hadn't been any other open positions, however, so Tristan created one. The previous CEO suddenly got a once-in-a-lifetime, take-it-or-leave-it offer that took him to Chicago, and Tristan got the brass plaque on the CEO's door on the fourth floor.

I smiled. The always practical Tristan. "How do the other doctors take that? She's obviously Tristan's favorite."

"You'd expect their professional pride to be bruised, but no. They love them both. Astrid spends more time with the other doctors and staff. They respect Tristan because he's so capable and does so much for them. He's flexible, approachable and ready to help whenever he can. Your girlfriend—" Liv looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back. It sounded just right. "She's adored, particularly among the hospital staff and her patients."

"What about you?" Livia was also a medical doctor, a specialist for allergies. "Why don't you work with them? Don't you miss your job?"

"For the time being, I'm happy being a part-time, self-employed real estate agent with a rich husband." Liv shrugged. "I'm a researcher, Jack, not a practitioner. I have my laboratory here in the basement. This is all I need."

"It's been more than a year since you came here. Don't you miss your life?"

Liv shook her head. "This is our life now. We'll stay with Astrid as long as it takes. There is another kind of unbreakable bond. It's called friendship. Gottfried, Ella, you, James. none of you hesitated to stand behind us when it was tough."

She was referring to the events that had happened about seventy years ago. We'd fought together with the Tel-Urughs against the small but strong army of Salvatore de Burgos, better known as the Usurper. De Burgos was a powerful Tel-Urugh, who'd tried to seize power and take control over the entire Tel-Urugh population. The majority of Tel-Urughs had opposed him, but they'd been unprepared for the war. Many werewolf clans and many wizards had sided with them and helped them destroy the Usurper. After centuries, the ancient alliances between the three Langaer peoples had been honored again.

"Ah, the years of living dangerously," I said, almost with nostalgia. It was a war, yes, but my father had been alive then, and Hal as well. Many friendships—those unbreakable bonds Liv had mentioned—had been forged during that time.

"It's been worth it. And perhaps now it's time for us to help you."

I shook my head. "When I take Astrid to Red Cliffs, you and Tristan can return to your normal life. You've never lived so close to humans. I know it's—"

Liv lifted her hand, stopping me. "Seth will try again, we all know that. Tristan and I will stay around in case you need us. You know that we can be handy in a tight spot."

I nodded, not at all surprised by her offer. I knew they wouldn't consider their job done just because the replacement had come. Astrid was their friend now, and they would be there for her, as long as she needed them. "Thanks, Liv."

"Don't mention it."

I drew in a deep breath. "Tell me about Astrid. I don't know her, I met her three days ago, but I feel so strongly about her. This bond, it's insane."

"She is fascinating. Did you know she studied medicine at two different universities at the same time? The first-year courses at one, the second year at another so that she could complete two years in one. The regular program was too slow for her. She had to fake her birth year; she was far too young for medical school. She became an MD in less than four years and now has two surgical specialties. She's logical and rational, like her wizardkind, and at the same time emotional, warm and sensitive. And feminine, don't you think?"

"She is." Astrid was beautiful. Her sexual appeal came from her entire being. It was in the color of her voice, in her eyes, in the soft curve of her neck; in the way she moved, talked, smiled and laughed. In her brilliant mind.

I glanced at the clock. Hours and hours before she would be done. I imagined her serious, calm profile focused on the broken body on the surgery table. I saw her elegant yet strong and confident hands in bloody surgical gloves connecting damaged tissue. The subtle energy of her healing touch would help her to do the impossible.

I was about to take her from the only life she knew and loved, and parachute her right into an unknown world, so different from hers. If she agreed to stay in Red Cliffs, and I couldn't imagine any other outcome, she would be our ellida, something she'd never heard about before I told her.

"Liv, she seems so young," I said quietly, struck by a fear that, sooner or later, Astrid could get tired of all those burdens we'd been putting upon her and decide to leave.

My friend identified the source of my acute panic attack.

"Don't go there, Jack," she said gently. "Astrid is a mature and responsible person, driven by her famous logic as well as her heart. She doesn't make impulsive decisions. And she is capable of deep and honest feelings."

"What if she gets tired one day and wants to leave?" I repeated aloud my anxious thought, desperately looking at my friend for reassurance.

"She's not Lani," Liv said. "You know, I've never understood what you saw in her. She was pretty and there was some mystique around her, I'll give her that. She was always so reserved and distant, and I wonder if that was just an act. Perhaps she didn't have much to say."

"And you didn't bother to figure it out? With all the methods you have at hand?"

She smirked. "For a human, she was very difficult to read with my non-evasive methods, so it stayed a mystery to me if she loved you or if she loved the idea of having a rich, good-looking boyfriend who adored her. And then she got bored and left you for somebody else." She stopped and exhaled audibly. "Sorry for being so open. I hope it doesn't bother you anymore."

It did in a way, but Liv was one of the few people who could talk to me like that and get away with it. "It's not important anymore, Liv. I'll just tell you that Lani is a smart and compassionate woman. Being an introvert is not a personality fault."

She sighed. "I was unfair. I'm an introvert myself, as you know. But she wasn't the right girl for you, Jack. I knew it from the beginning, but I was polite enough to keep my mouth shut."

"Maybe you should've told me long ago and saved me a lot of heartaches."

"Yeah, and you would've listened to me, sure. I'm telling you now, about Astrid. Think about this: Lani was your choice, and it didn't work. Astrid has been chosen for you as your bond mate, and it works. And believe me, in spite of her youth, I can't imagine anybody else who could handle you and a whole bunch of your kinsmen better than Astrid."

"I didn't mean to compare Astrid with Lani. Though you'd probably be surprised to see how much Lani has changed. She graduated from nursing school and now works as a pediatric nurse."

Liv's eyebrow arched.

"She's put her life back on the right track," I continued. "You can easily check that for yourself. She worked hard to make something out of her life."

Livia eyed me sharply. "And you know all this how?"

"It's not what you think. Lani belongs to somebody else now. I have no business there."

She raised her eyebrow. "Does she know that?"

"Of course she knows. Come on, Liv, give her some credit! Lani had a lonely, unhappy childhood and a harsh life. I loved her, and I know she loved me. And I had my part in our breakup. I took her for granted, like everybody else in her life. But our relationship had been over long before Astrid came into my life, and it's going to stay like that. I'm just saying that Astrid is young, unprepared, and everything is happening too fast for her."

"Then be there for her," Liv said in a warm voice. "Her life has always been so spartan. Shake her up a little bit. Bring some more fun, more laughter into her life, more lightness of living. She hasn't had much of that."

"It's me who is shaken up, so I might as well return the favor."

I wasn't sure if Astrid was ready to hear the next few lines of Cohen's song, but her man was damn ready to hum them into her ear. "Liv, is it okay if I go to the hospital now?" I said.

"One of them will phone when they finish. Then you can go. If Astrid is still in the operating room, they won't let you into her office. Let's make us something to eat while we wait. I'm hungry."

IT WAS A QUARTER TO six when Liv's phone rang. "They're both going to make it." I heard a bright, cheery tone in Tristan's voice. "She's a wizard!"

"Are you coming home?" Liv said.

"I'll stay a bit. I hear Jack's still there. Why don't you two come here for an early morning cup?"

Before Liv ended the call, I had the car keys in my hand.

Chapter Thirteen

Astrid

"YOU DON'T MIND I INVITED Jack, do you?" Tristan said.

"Not at all." Just the thought of seeing Jack made me forget how tired I was. I felt light and giddy, like a teenage girl having her first crush.

We sat in my office, sipping the double espressos Tristan had made in his office, where he kept a small but super-expensive Gaggia machine.

I was tired, though, despite my formidable physical and mental endurance. I could work long hours, do a string of surgeries without feeling tired or losing concentration. I needed little sleep: four, five hours tops. Except close to the full moon, when I felt exhausted and slept a lot.

Or after complicated surgeries. This night, I had operated for several long hours, fighting for the young woman's life. I'd mobilized all my energy and skills and focused them on the body in front of me. When I'd finished, I felt physically exhausted and emotionally drained, like after crying for a long time.

The young woman, mother of two little girls, and wife of the man Tristan had operated on, would survive.

Sometimes my patients would die no matter how fiercely I fought to save them. Losing those battles always left me not only empty and worn out, but also sad, bitter and angry. I'd never learned how to deal with that.

This time I'd won. The young woman that had been brought to the hospital clinically dead was going to have a full recovery. I'd stabilized her condition and eased her pain as much as I could, so we didn't need to put her into an induced coma. She would wake up sometime later that day and start her slow yet steady convalescence.

Tristan leaned across the table and gently stroked my cheek. "You did a helluva job tonight, Dr. Duplant."

"Thank you, Dr. Blake."

My job was done for today, but I would check on my patient before leaving the hospital.

"I'll find you a replacement for tonight. Take a day off," Tristan said.

I rubbed my eyes. "That will leave me with Jack more than is good."

"And why is that a problem?"

"Jack told you about that special connection between us, didn't he? Damn it, Tristan, it's working. I feel like a part of me is missing when he's not within arm's reach." I looked at him. "You know what I am, don't you?"

He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm sorry, Astrid. Don't hold it against me and Liv. It's a delicate matter, and we didn't call the shots. Liv and I disagreed with your grandparents. And James, for that matter. Was all this secrecy necessary? I think not."

"I don't blame you. Perhaps it had to be like that. I'll learn what I need to know in due time." I winked. "I'm the future ellida of Red Cliffs. I'll soon be able to demand to know what I want to know."

"I'm glad Jack told you. You understand how big it is? You're some sort of higher concept wrapped in a physical body."

"I don't see myself this way," I said. "To me, it's more concrete. A privilege and responsibility, like being a doctor. But I'll deal with that when it comes. I was more rattled by the bond."

Tristan pushed his chair to stretch his legs. "You should think of the bond the same way you think of being an ellida. As a privilege and a responsibility."

I thought about it. "It's involuntary. That bugs me. I can refuse to be an ellida, at least theoretically, but I can't refuse to be bonded to Jack. I'm just wondering if I would feel the same for him without that bond. I wish we'd met under different circumstances."

"First of all, you can refuse your responsibility as an ellida, but this doesn't change the fact that you _are_ an ellida. You're born for it. Second, I refuse to believe that any kind of bond is arbitrary. That would be a bad joke, nothing more."

"Then what about all those famous couples who couldn't function together yet couldn't live without each other?"

"Exactly what I said. They didn't see it as a privilege and an obligation. They wasted the gift they were given," Tristan said. "A bond works if you make it work, otherwise it's a curse. I'm trying to say that you still hold the reins. It depends on _you and Jack,_ not on the bond whether you're going to make each other's lives heaven or hell."

"Are you and Liv bonded?"

"Yes, in a Tel-Urugh way, but the idea is the same. This is the greatest blessing of my life."

I wanted to tell him I liked his bonding reasoning. I didn't mind if he'd just developed it for my sake. Then all my senses detected my bond mate striding toward my office. My heart moved up to my throat.

Jack came in, bringing his delicious scent of wind and sun, of longing and desire. I grabbed the sides of my chair so as not to launch myself on his handsome, inviting self.

"Hey." Jack came to me and kissed my hair. "I heard you did a great job last night."

It was good I was already sitting because my whole body turned limp. I reached for his hand and held it between mine.

With the pretext of making an espresso for Jack, Tristan excused himself and went to join Liv in his office.

Jack picked up a stray lock and tucked it behind my ear. "You look tired. Do you need to stay until your shift is over?"

I shook my head. "No. Tristan will."

Still holding my hand, Jack pulled another chair up and sat close to me. I rested my head against his chest and breathed in his scent.

You smell and feel so good, Jack Canagan. You're given to me as a gift, and I stake my claim. You are mine. Mine. Mine.

I smiled at my thought. Or not quite mine, although I couldn't agree more. She was right. My blaidd benywaidd.

I blinked and looked up at Jack. A smile sparkled in his beautiful amber eyes. I wanted him to close them so that I could kiss his eyelids.

I tucked my head back into its place, into that inviting hollow between Jack's neck and shoulder that seemed so perfectly shaped for it.

HALF AN HOUR LATER, I checked on my patient once more. I was satisfied with her condition, which meant I could go home.

I was tired. Jack put his arm around my shoulder as we walked out, and his solid, firm presence sent waves of happiness throughout my body.

"Do you mind if I sleep in the living room?" I asked when we arrived home.

I couldn't bear to be alone in my room. I still had Jack's jacket there, but then, I realized, I could have Jack himself even closer. "You could bring your laptop and work here if you like. I don't mind. I'm a quiet sleeper; I don't snore and I don't talk in my sleep."

"I believe you, and I don't want to know how you know that," Jack said, tucking the blanket around me. "Do you want me to close the blinds?"

"Are you going to have enough light to work?"

"Honey, I can see in the dark," Jack said and kissed my forehead.

Oh, God! _Are you planning to move downward?_

"Eventually. Don't be impatient."

"Eventually what?" I asked before I closed my eyes.

"Oh, I love that little wolf of yours." I heard his soft laugh.

Or I thought I'd heard it before I dove into a warm sub-reality that smelled of wind and sun and felt as good as a lover's touch.

Chapter Fourteen

Jack

ALL OUTSIDE NOISE WAS CUT off. The only sound that filled the room was Astrid's deep, regular breathing and the steady rhythm of her heart.

I smiled. I'd been enjoying listening to her heart. Her logical mind may have questioned everything that had happened in the last few days, but her heart couldn't lie. It would pick up speed every time we touched, every time we were close enough to sense each other, every time Astrid thought about me.

I wished she could hear my heart and its frantic pounding when our bodies brushed. Musical as she was, her hearing needed improvement, and that would likely happen when her blaidd benywaidd joined her dynes.

I placed my laptop on the table and occupied the armchair across from the couch. As soon as I turned it on, a chat message popped up from James.

How's it going?

_Fine,_ I typed back. _How's everything there?_

Good. How is my niece?

She's fine. Sleeping. Worked the night shift.

When are you bringing her here?

After her next change. I need to see it. T & L say she's in a lot of pain.

I know. Gottfried told me.

Why didn't you tell me, then?

I don't know, son. It's a kinda private matter. She doesn't even know that I know. Anyhow, it's likely that her spirits haven't merged yet. I just spoke to Ellida Morgaine.

I talked to her yesterday and came to the same conclusion. Morgaine knew it, but she didn't bother to tell us. She and her half-truths and secrets!

Cool down, Jack. She's an ellida; she must have her reasons. Does Astrid have a boyfriend? That would complicate things.

She doesn't, but it is complicated.

What do you mean?

I'm gonna phone you.

I SLAMMED MY LAPTOP SHUT and rushed to my room. James answered after the first ring.

"James, we are bond mates," I said, keeping my voice low. I didn't want to wake Astrid up.

There was a long pause. "I see. That indeed complicates things a bit, but then it simplifies them a great deal at the same time. How did that happen?"

"How did what happen, James? Are you asking me how the bond happened?"

I heard him exhale. "Jack, take it easy. I'm happy for you, son. It came as a bit of a shock, but the truth is, it's a perfect solution. Now she has to move here."

"I'm taking her home as my mate, whether you like it or not."

"I hear you, Jack. Is Astrid alright with that?"

"She will be. She is very open about moving and everything that waits for her."

"You told her?"

"I did. She had the right to know."

I heard him take a deep breath and let it out. "I trust you had a good reason to go against my orders," James said.

"Otherwise I wouldn't have disobeyed them. You know that."

James didn't say anything for a while. I could picture him scowling and rubbing his neck, while his quick mind assessed this new development from various angles. "I know Jack," I finally heard him. "Now listen. You two are bond mates, and that's fine. But you have to wait a bit before you, well, you know. Unless you've already done it?"

God. Was I discussing my sex life with my stepfather? "No," I said, rubbing my eyes. "We haven't. And we won't before her next change." _Ellida Morgaine's orders, I added silently._ "Astrid's wolf has to join with her human. It has to be done at the right moment."

"Two months. That's all I'm asking for. She should come here as our ellida and Hal's daughter, not as your mate. For some, she's also Rowena's daughter. Allow Red Cliffs to know her first."

"She's able to shapeshift, so she's an ellida, no matter who her mother is. Who'd dare to dispute that?"

"No one disputes it, but she needs the unconditional acceptance of all her people. Astrid's already different from any ellida before her. She was raised outside her clan, later she refused to come live here. She's a stranger to them."

"Because nobody told her what she was. Come on, James!"

"I know. Still, I can't allow any divisions over her. We must not leave room for any potential problems. Let Red Cliffs get to know her. In two months, you help her, well, you know, connect her spirits. We'll have the inauguration ceremony the next day, I promise. If everything goes according to my plan, you will do it as our einhamir... Jack, are you still there?"

"I'm here."

"Jack, son, it's time. And you've found your mate. I'm ready to retire."

"And I'm ready to take over, James. But I want Astrid at my side."

"You'll be a good leader."

"I hope so."

"I _know_ you will."

I raked my fingers through my hair. "We'll be there in about two weeks. She's far from being out of danger, James. Seth's not going to stop. He'll try again."

"Yeah, he will. Only this time we'll be ready. We will fight him to end this mess forever. And in the meantime, Astrid will be safe here." He paused. "She's pretty, isn't she? She's Hal's spitting image. Tell me about her?" His voice was much lighter now.

"She's incredible. Smart, strong, level headed." And beautiful.

"And a hell of a doctor, I hear. Jack, call me after she changes. Let me know what it looks like."

"Her wolf is trying to come out. Her eye color shifts sometimes, from blue to amber, and she has memory lapses."

"That will disappear, don't worry. Oh God, what news! You've made my day, son. Take care. Here is your mother. Talk to you soon."

AFTER A LENGTHY CONVERSATION WITH my mother and then my sister, who wanted to know _everything_ about Astrid, I came back to the living room. I carefully lifted Astrid's legs so that I could sit on the other end of the sofa. I placed her feet on my lap and covered them with the blanket. Astrid stirred, and let out a deep, sensual sigh, but didn't wake up.

I wanted her more than I wanted anything in my life, but I'd wait, as long as it took.

I closed my eyes, and let the warm current claim me.

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON WHEN Astrid woke up.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice raspy from sleep.

"Almost six. How are you feeling, Miss Spock?"

She stretched and wiggled her toes. "Regenerated, like your Seven of Nine."

I stroked her feet, soft and warm. "Didn't I tell you? I broke up with her. You are my girlfriend now."

Her heart skipped a beat and then continued pounding double-time. "Good. What did you do while I was sleeping?"

"Talked to your uncle. Worked a bit."

She tilted her head. "What did my uncle say?"

"We have some practical problems, so to speak. Nothing to worry about," I said. "I told him about the bond."

"You did? How did he take it?"

"He's happy."

She pulled herself into a sitting position. "You're not telling me everything. What's going on?"

"Everything's fine. They're looking forward to seeing you."

"You're going to be there, right?" she said. "You're not going to drop me off and disappear to one of your special missions?"

I pulled her against my chest. "You are my only special mission now. I might need to go here and there, but I'll always return. I'm not going to leave you, Astrid. Ever. I've just found you."

" _Ever_ could be a long time for us." She buried her nose into my neck. "Oh, I love your scent. You know, Tristan's right. The bond's a gift, and I'm not going to waste it."

I kissed her hair. "I'm glad you feel like that. Now, you must be hungry. Will you help me make something? Or we can go out for dinner if you like."

"I want to stay in. I'll need to go to the hospital later, though, to check on my patient."

"Let me make us something to eat, then." I stood up pulling Astrid with me. "Have you talked to Ella and Gottfried since I came?"

"I haven't, but I bet they know you're here. I'm surprised they didn't call already." She reached out for her phone. "You go to the kitchen and do not eavesdrop. I know you can tune me out if you want."

"I know you can soundproof your room if you want."

"Yes, but that takes a bit of time," she said and walked toward her bedroom.

"Don't be too hard on them."

She turned and she blew me a kiss.

Chapter Fifteen

Astrid

MY GRANDMOTHER HAD BEAT ME by seconds. My phone went off while I was dialing her number.

She and Grandpa knew Jack was with me in Rosenthal—she'd just spoken to my uncle.

Deciding we were done with secrets and half-truths, I asked her to put me on the speaker so that my grandpa could hear me as well.

Uncle James hadn't told tell them about the bond, however—he'd left it to me, which I was grateful for. My grandparents were so delighted I didn't have the heart to vocalize my frustration because of all the secrets they'd been keeping from me.

They loved me and had done their best to keep me safe, but they knew it wasn't enough. Seth had become a serious threat. I didn't miss the relief in my grandfather's voice when I told him I'd go to Red Cliffs with Jack.

"You'll be safer there than anywhere else," he said. "And not only that. You'll be allowed to be who you are."

While I knew my grandparents were in contact with Uncle James, I wasn't aware they liked Jack so much until he came in and took the phone from me and spoke first to Ella then to Gottfried. They talked like old friends. Jack promised we'd stop by Seattle on our way to Red Cliffs.

I FINISHED THE CALL, THINKING about my grandfather's words. Living all my life among humans, in hiding or semi-hiding, I had little opportunity to be either blaidd benywaidd or asanni. In Red Cliffs, among my werewolf kin, I could develop both my sides to their full potentials.

Jack smiled when I told him that.

We sat around the small fire he'd lit in the firepit in my backyard, enjoying a glass of wine after dinner. Although there was a chill in the air, the night was warm for this time of the year and a gentle breeze carried the faint scent of ocean and pine. The wine bottle stood between two chaise lounges, dragged out of the garage this afternoon for this occasion. Ignoring my protests, Jack had tucked a blanket around me. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and didn't seem affected by the cold.

"You're already a powerful asanni," he said, refilling my glass. "You must be. You're an ellida."

"I didn't have lots of opportunities to test my skills, but I know I'm good with fire," I said. "Wanna see?"

"Sure!"

I focused on the fire in front of us and cast a quiet spell. It started shrinking until, a few seconds later, only embers lay in the pit. Another spell and it soared in the air with a whoosh and a burst of sparks.

"Whoa! This is fantastic!"

"Thank you," I said, pleased with the praise.

The fire gradually decreased to its original size. "This was a real fire. I could've made it much bigger, moved it in any desired direction, controlled it. I can also create an illusion of fire. It looks real, it feels real, but you can walk through it. Nothing will happen."

"So, you are a fire wizard?"

I nodded. "The trick is to know how to create a protective shield around yourself, otherwise you'd burn. Not every wizard can do that. I must've gotten it from my grandpa."

_Or from my mother_.

Jack took my hand and kissed my fingers. "What about the other elements?"

Wizards had the ability to manipulate space and matter—in other words, to create magic through the four elements: fire, air, water and metal—or earth, as some call it—using energy that was inside and around us. There were four categories of wizards corresponding to the four elements, depending on which element they were best with. Air wizards could manipulate winds, create storms, calm the weather, change the physical state of water, raise and drop the outside temperature, create a protective shield. Water wizards could raise the level of water, change its direction, make waves and stay under the water for a long time. Those called earth or metal wizards were masters of forging metals, building with stones, creating things from wood and other earthy elements. Our skills are dominant in one element, but we were often skilled in another one or two.

Similar to us, Tel-Urughs and werewolves—and to a certain extent some humans—drew their powers from the same source. _How_ we used it made us different.

"I'm also good with air and water," I said. "My command of metal isn't perfect, though."

To demonstrate, I moved the air above us, sent the wind swooshing and swirling over the roof of my garage, made the branches of the spruce tree rustle. "There's no water here, so I can't show you my water skills."

"This is awesome. What else can you do?"

"I can translocate."

"How far?"

I gave him a crooked smile. "Well, from my kitchen to my backyard, for sure. To scare my accidental visitors. Up to a couple of hundred yards with ease. The farther I go, however, the more energy I need." Translocation was one of the hardest things to do. I was grateful for this skill, though. It had saved me last time from Seth's pursuers.

"Can you take on someone else's look?" He moved the wine bottle and angled his chair toward mine.

"I can, both of a human and an animal, although I can't hold onto it for more than a few minutes. It's a tallin, like the fake fire; a magic trick more than real magic."

"Impressive," Jack said. "Only the most powerful wizards can cast the Fire Spell, and not many of you can translocate or change appearance."

"Some of our abilities are hereditary. My grandparents are powerful wizards."

Is my mother, too? She must be. Is she a fire wizard? Can she walk through fire unburnt, like her father, or translocate, like her mother? Or both, like me?

Beneath the blanket, my hand pressed against the place at the end of my sternum, my little cold, dark void, that hurt when I thought about her.

Attuned to my mood, Jack reached for my other hand and gently squeezed it. "Do you want to go inside? Are you cold?"

"No. I'm fine." The temperature had dropped a few degrees and the wind picked up, but the fire was strong and my werewolf blood kept me warm. And I loved the night, its sounds and scents, so different than during the day. "You mentioned some wolf-people can change their look. How does it work?"

He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. "Some of us can make ourselves look older or younger, or completely different. It's handy, especially for those among us who live outside our territories."

"I didn't know that. How long can they keep it?"

"Depends. Some can hold it for a day, some for months, and then it needs to be refreshed."

"Can you do it?"

"No. This particular trait doesn't run in my family." He brought my fingers to his lips and kissed them one by one.

For a while, we sat in companionable silence until Jack said, "Do you want to hear the story of the first ellida, Illeana?"

I turned my head to face him. "Yes, please."

"So, long ago, when the world was still young, there lived two mighty konungur aesar, the wizard kings," he started. "Elgar was a good ruler, whose kingdom thrived until the bad wizard, Sigvin, the king of the far, frozen North, stole Elgar's Horse with the Silver Mane, and his beloved daughter Yngvild, Elgar's only child, whom he loved with all his heart. Heartbroken and without his magic horse that made him undefeatable in battle, Elgar asked Harlan, the einhamir of the clan that lived close to his kingdom, for help.

"Wizards and werewolves shared the same realm and lived peacefully side by side but didn't marry nor breed, so Harlan was surprised when King Elgar said, 'Bring me back what was stolen from me, and I'll give you my daughter to be your wife.'

"Yngvild was pretty enough, true, and she was an asanni, but if Harlan could've picked, he'd rather have the horse. Alas.

"'I shall bring your daughter home, my lord,' Harlan said. 'And your horse. And if your daughter will have me, she will be my wife.'

"So he changed into a wolf and started running. He ran and ran, and he didn't stop for three days and three nights until he reached King Sigvin's palace. He found the tower where Yngvild was kept a prisoner. She was sleeping. He turned into a man again and woke her up. As their hands touched, they felt the warm current of the bond run through their bodies. That moment they fell in love with each other.

"Yngvild and Harlan rushed to the stables, took the Horse with the Silver Mane and fled from the palace. They had almost made it when the guards saw them and closed the gate.

"'Get off the horse, Yngvild!' Harlan said. 'It can jump over the gate, but not with you on its back! You're coming with me!'

"Once more, Harlan turned into a blaidd. Yngvild climbed on his back and they flew over the gate. The horse was already waiting for them on the other side.

"King Sigvin wasn't ready to accept defeat. He raised his army and marched to Elgar's kingdom. But there he met not only King Elgar's soldiers, but also Harlan's warriors, who came to fight alongside Elgar. It wasn't long before King Sigvin was defeated.

"King Elgar kept his word. 'I'm giving you my daughter to be your wife and the mother of your children, Harlan,' the king said. 'Never before has a blaidd taken an asanni for a wife. It is said that when it happens, their first female child shall become an ellida, _the one of two bloods_ , the living embodiment of the alliance between asyngaer and gwerin y blaidd. Of all your offspring, only she will be able to change shape; her two bloods will become one, the purest and strongest of all. She shall be the pride of our people and she shall bring peace and harmony to yours.'

"Then he forged _Eid Rýtingur,_ the famous wizard dagger. Have you heard of it?"

"Yes. Grandpa has one." It was a beautiful piece of a weapon, although its purpose was now ceremonial. Very light, very sharp, with botanical decorations in gold or silver on the hilt. The blade itself was made of titanium alloy, which was a chemical formula known only to wizards.

"No, what he has is a common _rýtingur_ ," Jack said. "The dagger Elgar made was special, the first of its kind. Eid Rýtingur means 'the oath dagger'. The hilt was decorated with a carving never seen before—the full moon with a she-wolf head in its centre. The pattern was then filled with molten silver. The moon represented the wizardkind; the wolf's head, us. Together, they became a symbol of our alliance, and the sigil of an ellida. When it was done, Elgar and Harlan cut their palms and made the blood oath to last from 'this day to the end of the days.'

"Harlan and Yngvild had many children, indeed, but, as Elgar had predicted, only their first daughter was a shapeshifter. They named her Illeana and she became the first ellida of Týr, as we call our realm."

JACK FINISHED THE STORY, BUT the sound of his soft voice still echoed in my ears. "That was a beautiful story, Jack," I said. "Now that I think of, it has some similarities with an old Russian legend about King Afron, Yvan Vyslavovich, and Elena the Beautiful."

"Yes. Our heritage is preserved not only in our books and documents but often in human mythology and legends."

"As well as in their religions, literature and arts. So, what _is_ the story of the first ellida? History? A myth? Legend?"

"A little bit of everything, I think. The existence of ellidas is indisputable. Also, only the oldest daughters can shift. Why can't the other kids? Who was the first ellida? Did Harlan, Yngvild and the two asyr kings exist? Nobody has the definitive answers to these questions."

"And that's fine," I said. "We feel it's important to explain everything. It's not. Some things just _are,_ they don't have and don't need an explanation."

"An interesting observation, given you're an asanni. I thought your logical mind needs answers to everything."

"A logical mind knows it's not possible. Anyway, I just realized I might know more about ellidas than I'd thought. In Celtic mythology, there is a story about Elatha. According to it, Elatha, or Elathan, was a Moon God. Or Goddess, nobody knows for sure. She—or he—was forever young, had silver hair and sailed in a silver vessel. Elatha was a great healer and taught people how to farm the land, saving them from starvation during long winters."

"A human story explaining ellidas? Possible. The border between the human and the Langaer history, mythology and legends is not clear."

"But there is more to it," I said. "Once I got a book of wizard fairy tales. Among them was the story of Ellia the Wizard Princess. Her hair was light, like molten silver mixed with gold, her eyes blue like the summer sky of her homeland. When she was very young, a dark wizard killed her parents, the rulers of the fertile lowlands near the sea, and left Ellia in the woods for the beasts. The raven that always followed the wolf king and his queen, the lord and lady of the forest, saw the baby from above and lead the king and queen to her. They brought Ellia home. They loved her and raised her like their own child. When Ellia grew up, the dark wizard who killed her parents kidnapped her to force her to marry him, but the dark-haired and amber-eyed Prince Althian, the son of the wolf king and queen, rescued her. They married and had many children together, but their firstborn was a daughter, Elathia, who had her mother's pale hair and her father's golden eyes. She could heal with her touch and change her shape from a woman to a she-wolf. See, this might as well be our version of the story of the first ellida, although I'd never thought it was more than that—a story."

"It makes sense. Ellidas symbolize the alliance between the two peoples. Wizards must have some records of it." He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched in his seat. "Light blond hair, golden eyes, you say. You just described Ariel."

"Who's Ariel?"

"The ellida of Winston, a clan from up in the Canadian North. She's young; she became an ellida when she was twelve."

"Twelve! She was a child! When was it?"

"Eight, nine years ago. She's about twenty now."

"Wow. Maybe I should stop whining. At least I'm an adult. Have you met her?"

"No. But you will. You two are the only ellidas in this part of the continent."

"You said she became an ellida at the age of twelve. Does that mean she turned for the first time when she was twelve?"

"No. A year before that. It was unusually early."

"What is the usual age?"

"Eighteen or nineteen. After the initial transformation, an ellida starts working closely with the einhamir and other clan officials to learn what she needs to know and what they can teach her. She masters control over her transformations. A year or so later, when she feels ready, she's inaugurated in a simple ceremony and takes over the clan council and her other duties."

"Oh."

I'd been twenty-three when I'd turned the first time. Three years later, my spirits were still loose and I couldn't control my transformations. Why was I so different than any other ellida?

Jack didn't need to be a mind reader to know what preoccupied my thoughts.

"You're the only known ellida who hasn't lived with her clan, Astrid," he said softly. "I accused you of being ignorant, but it's not your fault. You've been left on your own. No one could tell you what to do and how to do it. Give yourself a break."

He stood and extended his hand. "Come, let's go inside."

Chapter Sixteen

Astrid

"WHAT DO YOU WANT TO do tomorrow?" Jack asked me later before we parted to go to our rooms. We stood in the narrow hallway, a fingertip from each other.

"We can try to go hiking again."

"I'll need to call James tomorrow morning. We can go after that."

My uncle. A nagging thought in the back of my mind popped to the surface. "When you spoke to him today, what did he tell you? I have a feeling you didn't tell me everything I should know."

Jack placed his arms on my shoulders and rested his forehead against mine. "I'm afraid our sexual abstinence will last a bit longer than we anticipated. I promised I'd bring home _our_ _ellida,_ not _my mate_."

I took a step back and looked at him. "Probation period, huh? If I'm your bond mate, why does it matter?"

Jack rubbed his chin. "You have two months to decide if you're going to stay among us or not. According to our customs, you shouldn't choose your mate before that."

"What if my spirits don't merge in the next two months?"

"Even if they don't, that doesn't prevent you from taking over your position. But they will. Some ellidas need more time to master the shapeshifting, some less. James only wants Red Cliffs to know you before you officially become the ellida."

I let out a frustrated sigh. Jack didn't need to tell me; I knew it was my mother. I was Rowena's daughter and it made my uncle nervous. Some people might not accept me as an ellida. My position didn't seem so indisputable, after all. "Okay. We won't tell anyone we're bond mates. Problem solved. And you know what? My uncle should start talking to me about things that affect me, not sending me messages through you."

"Your uncle's eager to talk to you, but this isn't something you'd like to discuss with him."

"Excuse me?"

Jack closed his eyes and sighed. "We can't make love. If we do, we will mark each other with our scent and everyone will know."

For a moment, I thought I misunderstood. Then I glanced at him and I realized I hadn't. "Aw! Oh no! Don't tell me that. That's awful!"

He laughed. "We can kiss and hold hands if that helps."

"But no touching?"

He gave me a sly smile. "Touching would do if you weren't close to your change, so forget about it for now. No intercourse, that's what I'm trying to say. Sexual marking is irrevocable. It's like a stamp. And it sends a clear message—stay away from my mate."

"God. I mean, it makes sense, but still. You can see auras, you can hear from a great distance, you can smell what people do. How does it work in, well, private moments, if more than two people live in the same house? Or when they have children? Does the whole household know when they, you know...?"

"When we have sex, Miss Spock? You can relax. All private rooms in our homes—and some spaces in public buildings wherever privacy is required—are under mandatory Privacy Protection or PP."

"What about other rooms or outside noises and smells?"

"Common rooms are not under PP. We can adjust our voices, tune out other people's conversations, and so on. Yet even from the protected rooms, you can sense whatever is relevant, for safety reasons, as well as outside sounds. It requires complex tribal magic to put all these particulars together, but once it's set up, the PP works fine." He winked. "In fact, as fine as the spells you threw over our bedrooms and the bathroom when I arrived, only more permanent."

I ignored him. This was a serious topic. "The PP protects privacy without jeopardizing safety. Is that what you want to say?"

"It takes our senses down to a human level. Our enhanced sensory system puts humans at a disadvantage, so we try to even it out. Anyway, while we're still on the topic—" Jack gave me a meaningful look, "it should be said that we like making love in open and unprotected places, providing there are no spectators. In cars, for example. Or woods, or airplanes, or back rows of movie theaters, or—"

"Okay, I've got the idea." I giggled and I ducked down under his arm. "No more shocking revelations. I've reached my daily quota."

With that, I hurried into my room and closed the door behind me.

I LAY IN THE DARKNESS of my room thinking how I'd never shared my spacious, luxury, queen-sized bed with anyone. It had been my choice until Jack came.

Now when I wanted to share it with the man two doors down the hallway, I couldn't. Rotten luck.

I pictured him stretched out on his own bed, his arms under his head and long legs crossed at the ankles.

I could smell him. His scent tickled my nostrils. I breathed him in, longing for his presence, for his arms around me. I felt a sudden rush of warmth followed by an almost painful excitement in my abdomen and between my thighs.

My blood hummed, my pulse ticked. And then, beneath the sound of my own heart, I heard a different set of beats: Jack's heart _._ A new sensation that took my breath away. I listened to it, mesmerized and motionless as if the slightest movement would make it disappear.

I cleared my mind of everything except the rhythm that was reaching me from Jack's room.

The most beautiful sound I'd ever heard lulled me into sleep.

"IT'S A PERSONAL QUESTION, BUT I need to ask you anyway," Jack said the next morning as we drove east, in another attempt to reach the Cricket Falls Trail.

I threw him a glance. "If I find it too personal, I might not answer."

"James brought it up. Is there an ex-boyfriend, who would find your sudden leaving strange? Or a close friend, who knows you're here?"

My ex-boyfriend and my best friend were the same person, but Ingmar Mortensen was currently in East Africa, with Doctors Without Borders. He wouldn't find it strange if I moved to Red Cliffs, though. After all, he was the one who'd sided with my grandparents when they'd tried to convince me to establish a relationship with my werewolf family. Funny, I'd been thinking a lot about him in the last few weeks. It meant he'd been thinking about me as well. And that meant I'd hear from him soon.

Ingmar had left for East Africa after our breakup more than a year ago. We hadn't been in contact since then, both needing some distance from each other, but our short-lived intimate relationships couldn't wreck our friendship. We'd known each other our entire lives. We were too close and loved each other too much to stay separated for a long time.

I turned on the radio, found a classic rock station. "Can you finally tell me how we're going to deal with my roaming wolf?" I asked over Bruce Springsteen's _Born to Run._

"I'll tell you in a bit. It's a rather delicate conversation."

"You're not trying to scare me, are you?"

He chuckled, wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger and tugged it gently. "I think you'll rather like it. Just be open-minded."

Oh dear.

SOON WE REACHED A "Y" junction, turned right and took a forest road to the bottom of a hill. After a quarter-mile, there was a pullout with the trailhead marker.

Jack helped me out of the truck, double-checked if my shoes were properly tied, zipped up my jacket and adjusted the straps of my backpack.

"Where have you been all my life?" I asked, burying my nose into his neck.

"I've been looking for you." Jack lifted my chin and locked his eyes with mine, sending shivers down my spine. "Ready?"

"For hiking or for talking?"

He smiled and took my hand in his. "For me."

"I am ready, Jack Canagan."

Chapter Seventeen

Jack

WE ENTERED THE PERMANENT TWILIGHT of the ancient forest along the riverbank.

"Let me check the guide," Astrid said, pulling her hand from mine. "Under a deep green canvas of trees, the trail climbs gradually along the river before a sharp turn near the halfway mark and continues over the river, across a wooden bridge. The same route takes you back, or you can continue to hike on the opposite side of the riverbank, which is slightly shorter and steeper, with the 98-foot Cricket Falls at its summit." She closed the booklet, passed it to me and turned. "Put it in my knapsack."

I untied it, tucked the guide into one of the pockets. I placed my hands on her shoulders and spun her back to face me. "There," I said and kissed her forehead.

"You wouldn't need a guide, would you?" she said. "You could go right into the woods and feel at home."

"Soon you will, too."

She tilted her head and smiled. "I hope so. Now about my roaming wolf. How are we going to connect my spirits?"

"Promise you won't rant about being left without a choice."

"Hmm. _Am_ I going to be left without a choice?"

I inhaled and fired it out in a single breath. "You have to have sexual intercourse with a werewolf. You need another wolf spirit to communicate with your own wolf during the process and help you to connect your human and wolf parts. Humans can't do that, neither can wizards. Make any sense?"

Phew! I did it, I thought, relieved. I cast Astrid a glance, bracing myself for the oncoming storm.

It didn't come. Astrid stopped, turned to me, cocked her head. "Makes perfect sense," she said. "Who else can do that except another werewolf?"

I looked at her in awe. If I hadn't already been crazy about her, I would have fallen in love at that very moment.

But then, her eyes widened in alarm. "It will be you, right? Don't tell me I have to do that with someone else?"

"No, no, no." I hurried to reassure her.

"No _what?"_

"Yes, it'll be me. No, you won't do that with anybody else. I wouldn't let anybody else touch you."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Anything else I have to know?"

"Only that it should be done just before your change when your wolf is close."

"That makes sense, too." She chuckled. "Finally something that I don't mind doing."

I pulled her against me and held her tight. I could hear her heart. I felt the rush of her blood under that smooth skin, the rise of her body temperature, her breathing.

"I'm okay, Jack," she whispered into the hollow of my neck, sending shivers down my spine and a rush of blood to my cock. "I really am. Just hold me."

Ignoring the tension in my midsection, I lifted her chin and I pressed my lips over hers.

She kissed me back with fierce passion. A deep, guttural sound that came out from my chest brought me back to my senses. My own wolf was trying to emerge.

I broke the kiss and cupped Astrid's face. Her eyes were yellow gold, like honey.

"Take it easy, baby," I said and backed off. "Your wolf wants to join the party."

She blinked several times, as if waking up from a trance, took a step back. Her eyes changed color from amber back to blue. The tip of her tongue darted out, running along her upper lip. "I can taste you. We kissed, did we?"

"You don't remember the kiss?"

She took my hand and we resumed our stroll. "No, not really. She doesn't want me to remember. I don't know why."

I didn't either.

"SO, MY WOLF'S MAKING ATTEMPTS to come out," Astrid said sometime later as we sat on an old tree trunk covered with damp moss.

I took off my jacket and folded it. "Lift your bum," I said. She braced herself on her arms and I pushed it beneath her.

"I have no memories, but I can still feel her," she said, smoothing the folds and sitting down. "She's responding to your presence. To another wolf."

"To her mate. Your wolf is more primal in her needs than your human part."

"I've figured that much out. I've pushed up my last two surgeries to next Monday and Tuesday, and then I'm taking a vacation. Tristan agrees. My blaidd benywaidd is stronger than ever. I don't want to have a memory lapse with the scalpel in my hand. Although, I somehow know she wouldn't put anyone in that kind of danger."

"She wouldn't. She's you."

"I'm more tired than I should be a week before the change. Until now, she's always waited until the last moment to take over. Not anymore." Astrid turned her blue gaze at me and my heart gave a loud thump. "She knows about me, doesn't she?"

"I believe so. I'll talk to her when you change, and then we'll know more."

"How are you going to talk to her? Are you going to change, too? How do we communicate?"

I pulled her closer until her head rested on my shoulder. "If I am in human form, you can hear me and you can talk to me in my mind. I mean, you can send your thoughts to me, like a text message from one phone to another, sort of."

"Sort of? That means you can read my thoughts. You said you couldn't."

"Only what you want me to hear. It's like... Okay, imagine working on your computer. You can choose to have a single window open, close it down, open another one, use it, close it down again and so on. Or you can have multiple windows open and toggle between them. In our case, we choose—and it's an instant and automatic process—when we think and when we talk. I can receive only what you want to say."

"It sounds complicated. So, I receive only what you want to tell me?"

"Yes. Our thoughts always stay private."

She sighed. "I think I've learned enough for today. Let's talk about something else."

"Okay," I said and pulled her closer. She ran the back of her fingers along my face. I closed my eyes and let the warm tide sweep over me.

It wasn't going to be easy to stay away from each other. Astrid's blaidd benywaidd was awake, arousing my blaidd. I was in love with her and wanted her more than I'd wanted anyone else in my life.

"Let's go to the Falls," I said and stood up, extending my hand to her.

She grabbed it and pulled herself up. "They must be close. I can hear them," she said and crouched to retie her hiking boot.

"Your hearing must have improved lately," I said and pressed a soft kiss onto her temple. "I doubt anyone but a werewolf could hear them from this distance."

"She's a hell of a wolf," Astrid said. "I'm looking forward to meeting her in person. Sort of."

IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON WHEN we walked back to the truck.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "We could stop somewhere for lunch or we can make something at home."

"Let's go home."

Home. I liked the sound of it.

Her little house, my house in Red Cliffs, a tent in a desert, it didn't matter. Home was where Astrid was.

"I'll need to do something with my house," Astrid said as if sensing my thoughts. "And my furniture."

"Lily and Alec are coming with a truck to take your belongings to Red Cliffs. As for the house, you can keep it, or we can buy it out from you," I said.

" _We_?"

"You bought it through Millennium Properties, remember? It's our family company. We sell and buy properties all around the world."

"Oh, I didn't know that." Her eyes narrowed into two blue slits. "You are rich, aren't you? A government salary wouldn't allow you to drive an insanely expensive Audi."

"I could've rented it to impress you, couldn't I?"

"But you didn't."

"No. I _am_ rich. Does it change anything?"

"No, but it'd be just fine even if you weren't because I'm rich."

Of course, she was. Most Langaer were. Our long lives provided us with plenty of time to accumulate wealth. Wizards, the richest among us, were above the vanity of the material world. And Astrid was no exception.

"Yet you bought the smallest house in Rosenthal," I said, teasing her.

"It's big enough for me. How many bedrooms can you sleep in at the same time? Besides, this house wasn't cheap at all."

"You could've bought a better car, though. Rosenthal is a wealthy little town. Your Honda stands out here more than my Audi."

"Well, I thought about it. It's okay for Tristan to drive his fancy Mercedes, he's the CEO, but a young, unknown surgeon wouldn't live in a mansion and drive a luxury car. It would look suspicious."

I smiled and turned to her. "You're going to have a little bit bigger of a house soon, you know. And your Honda isn't coming with us."

"We'll see about that. I'm emotionally attached to my car. So, you have a big house?"

"Bigger than your present dwelling for sure. We have to renovate it a bit."

She inched closer to me. "You know what I really want? A cat. I've never had a cat."

"Did you have any other pet?"

"No," she said with echoing longing in her voice.

My chest tightened. "We'll have a cat. And I want a dog, so we'll have a dog as well."

And the house full of children.

Chapter Eighteen

Astrid

WE TURNED ONTO MY STREET when Jack slowed down, a strange expression on his face. "There's a young man in your living room, a wizard. Liv's with him."

"What? Who?"

"You tell me."

He parked in front of my house. "Close the window and stay here," he ordered and got out of the truck.

A faint trace of familiar scent clung in the air. I smiled, unsurprised when I recognized it. I knew he was coming, didn't I?

I opened the door and jumped out. "This is Ingmar," I said. "My best friend." A deep breath. "And my ex-boyfriend."

" _What_?"

I shrugged. "Well, it didn't come up in our conversation."

"Stay behind me!"

THE DOOR SWUNG OPEN BEFORE Jack touched the doorknob.

"Astrid, you have a visitor," Liv said with a broad smile. "Hi, Jack."

I peeked from behind Jack. "Ingmar! What are you doing here?"

A wide grin spread across Ingmar's face. "Hey! Good to see you."

Jack entered first, I followed, closing the door behind us. When I tried to push my way toward Ingmar, Jack blocked me with his arm with another order to stay behind.

Four of us bottlenecked my tiny hallway. In such a small space, the presence of two tall, strong men made the air crackle with tension.

I pushed through. "Jack, this is Ingmar Mortensen, my close friend," I said, placing my hand on his upper arm. Beneath his jacket, his muscles were hard like stone. "Ingmar, meet my boyfriend, Jack Canagan, from Red Cliffs. Now let's move to the living room."

I GESTURED TOWARD THE SOFA and the armchairs, but no one took a seat. Ingmar's eyes were on me, Jack's on Ingmar's, and Liv's, amused and alert, moved from one man to the other.

"When did you come back?" I asked Ingmar.

"Two days ago. You were not in Seattle anymore. I went to see Ella and Gottfried. They told me you're here, and why. Why didn't you tell me, Astrid?"

"You were on another continent. I didn't want you to worry about me." I rounded the coffee table and, ignoring Jack's warning looks, stood before Ingmar. "I'm glad you're back."

"Oh, God, I've missed you, Astrid," Ingmar said and took my hands in his.

Jack looked ready to attack.

"I'll make coffee," I said and strode to the kitchen, confident Liv could handle the excess of testosterone, if necessary.

When I joined them a few minutes later, I found all three of them sitting: Liv and Ingmar in the two armchairs and Jack on the sofa. I passed them the cups with coffee and took a seat beside Jack. I could feel his body relax.

"What are you going to do? You can't stay here forever," Ingmar said.

"I know. I'm leaving soon."

"To where?"

"To Red Cliffs. With me." It was Jack.

"It's a good idea. She should've done that long ago," Ingmar said. "Go to Red Cliffs, I mean; not necessarily with you."

"It _is_ necessary," Jack said through clenched teeth and leaned toward Ingmar. "I can protect her. You cannot."

Ingmar wouldn't let anyone intimidate him, so he did the same. "Listen to me, Jack Canagan. I've known Astrid all my life—"

"I don't care. Her safety's our responsibility."

"Mine, too, whether you like it or not! She's like family."

I raised my arms. "Jack, Ingmar. Please."

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. "This isn't going to work. I don't know what the hell you're doing here, Mortensen, but I understand you two need some private time. Liv and I are going to that café around the corner."

I turned to him, speechless. Liv and Ingmar both looked taken aback.

I cradled Jack's face between my palms. "Thank you."

His lips brushed over mine. "You going to be okay, baby?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. I knew how much it cost him to leave me alone with Ingmar. It was against the same instincts that had almost made him jump on him a few minutes ago. He trusted me, and that was an awesome feeling.

"YOUR HAIR GREW. I LIKE it," I said to Ingmar when we were alone, tilting my head to get a better view of him.

Ingmar's gorgeous blond hair was shoulder length and pulled back in a thick ponytail. Like most of our kind, he looked elf-like: tall, slender, elegant and strong. His facial features were clear and proportional and his eyes icy blue. Only a year older than me, he was a powerful wizard, but like most of us, he seldom used his incredible energy and skills.

He motioned toward the door. "He's a blaidd, I assume. How long have you two been together?"

"We met a week ago," I said.

"A week ago? And he thinks you're his responsibility? Are you in love with him?"

"Jack's my Uncle James's stepson. He came to stay with me during my next change, and then we are going together to Red Cliffs. Do I love him? We're bond mates. I guess that answers your question."

Ingmar blinked. "Wow. Bond mates. I guess that changes everything. So, you two live together? Already?"

"Well, no. He's visiting. It's complicated."

"What is it like to be bonded?" Ingmar asked.

"It's like your emotions are on steroids. Intense. Wonderful. Scary."

He rubbed the area under his lower lip with his index finger, something he did when he felt uncertain. Not that I'd seen it often. Uncertainty wasn't an emotion that plagued Ingmar Mortensen. "I don't know what to say," he said. "It sounds so definitive."

"You just accept it," I said with a resolute shrug. "And then you work on it as you work on any other relationship. Only, for a bonded couple, there is no way out."

"So you better make it work, huh?"

"Wizards also have bonds," I said. "It may happen to you, too."

By Ingmar's expression, I could see he hoped it wouldn't.

He reached for my hand. "Now about why you are here. Why do you need two Tel-Urughs to watch over you?"

"How much did Livia tell you?"

"Not much." He smirked. "It was me who did most of the talking."

"How did she find you?"

"No idea. The moment I parked in front of your house, she was sitting beside me in my car. Scared the hell out of me. Later she called her husband to tell him everything was fine. They're here to protect you, right? What happened?"

"Yes. A while ago, Seth's people tried to kidnap me." I summarised my last year, adding the details I'd learned from Jack. He listened to me without interrupting, his eyes filled with concern.

"What about your mother?" he asked when I finished. "Any news about her?"

I shrugged. "She's alive; that's all I know. Nobody's talking about her. I think Seth keeps her in Copper Ridge against her will. He might use her to get me."

"You'll be safer in Red Cliffs, true, but on the other hand, you're moving closer to your enemy."

"I have no choice." I took a deep breath. "Have you ever heard about ellidas?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Of course."

"I am the Red Cliffs ellida. At least they think I am."

I thought he'd be shocked, but he just nodded. "I used to believe ellidas were part of our folklore. Then just recently I stumbled upon some old chronicles and realized you might be one. Man, that's huge." He chuckled, pulled me to his chest and kissed my hair. "You're a mythical creature, Astrid."

"That's why Seth's obsessed with me. He wants me for his clan."

"'Though this be madness, yet there is method in't,'" Ingmar said, quoting Shakespeare, whose complete works he knew by heart. "Seth Withali is a real threat. I have no doubt Jack Canagan will do his best to protect you, but he'd better make room for me in your life as well."

"I'll be okay, Ingmar. My clan will keep me safe."

"You're an asanni as well. Your safety's our concern."

"I don't want wizards to be dragged into a squabble between two werewolf clans."

"You're my best friend, Astrid. If you think I'll sit around and twiddle my thumbs, think twice. I'm going back to Seattle tonight, but we'll stay in touch. I'll talk to Jack Canagan to see how I can help."

I glanced through the window. It was raining heavily, it was foggy, and I didn't like the idea of Ingmar spending several hours on the road.

"Do you need to go back tonight? Look outside, it's horrible. Stay with us."

"I don't think your boyfriend would be happy to have me for a sleepover."

"But we will be." I heard Liv's voice from the hallway. She had a creepy ability to enter any space without a sound.

"My husband would like to meet you," Liv continued, stepping into the living room, followed by Jack. "We seem to have an interesting topic to discuss. You're welcome to stay with us tonight."

And there we were again, the four of us together in my small living room. Most of the tension had disappeared, however. I peeked at Jack, who moved to my side and snuggled me. I squeezed his hand.

Wrapping his left arm around my waist, Jack offered his right hand to Ingmar, who accepted it. Silently, I let out a deep breath.

I hugged my friend and he kissed my cheek. "Take care, Astrid. I'll see you soon."

AS THE DOOR CLOSED BEHIND Ingmar and Liv, Jack turned to me.

"I've been awesome, haven't I?" he said with a wide grin and pulled me against him.

I looked up at him and met his soft amber gaze.

"I'm impressed," I said and locked my arms around his neck. "I know it wasn't easy for you."

I lifted my head, he lowered his. Our lips met in a long, tender kiss.

I was dizzy and breathless when we parted. My body was on fire. My breast felt heavy and sensitive, desire coiled in my abdomen. I sighed and took a step back. "Come to the kitchen. I'll cook tonight."

Jack pulled me back. His hands stroked my back, squeezed my bum, moved up to my breasts. "God, Astrid, you feel so good."

I moaned. He was hard. I wanted to run my hand over his erection, open his fly, feel it against my palm. Taste it, lick it, suck it. Love it.

I clenched my fists and wiggled out of his embrace. "Let's not start what we can't finish."

He cursed under his breath and released me. "I need to take a shower. Cold."

"WHAT ARE WE MAKING," JACK said some time later entering the kitchen. His hair was wet, and he smelled delicious.

"Do we have anchovies, and capers and black olives?" I asked.

"Ah, pasta alla puttanesca."

"I only know how to cook sexy food," I said with a chortle, alluding to the supposed origins of pasta alla puttanesca as a dish of old-time Roman prostitutes, quick enough to make it between appointments. "Mince some garlic, will you?"

Jack tilted his head. "I thought you didn't eat garlic."

"I eat it once it's been cooked."

"When we were at Palatine Hill, you asked for garlic-free food."

"I thought that we might end up kissing, so I didn't want to risk it."

Jack laughed. "You little minx." He was on my side of the island in a blink, his arms around me. "Now that I have you, I believe that love at first sight is a process that can last an eternity."

"It's so poetic."

"Because you are my muse. Let me kiss you now just in case we don't sauté the garlic properly."

It was a quick, playful kiss. We couldn't risk more than that.

"Now, turn around," Jack said. He grabbed the kitchen towel from the hook and tucked it into my jeans. "The kitchen's all yours, love."

Chapter Nineteen

Jack

AFTER THE PASTA DINNER, WHICH was excellent, I had to admit, we moved to the living room and made ourselves comfortable on the sofa.

Ingmar Mortensen, darn him, had been on my mind all evening. He and Astrid were close and cared deeply for each other. I had to live with that.

"Did you love him?" I asked, wrapping my arm around Astrid's shoulder. I craved her touch. I wanted her to feel the bond.

Astrid took a sip of water and placed the glass on the coffee table. "Ingmar's one of the most important people in my life. Of course I love him."

I swallowed a groan. The darn blond demigod-like wizard wouldn't just disappear from our lives. Better to get used to his presence. "Did you two live together?"

They hadn't, she said, a fact that instantly lifted my mood. She told me about their year-long dating, the reason why they'd broken up—they'd both realized they didn't love each other _that_ way—and how she'd missed him. "I wish I could say we were like brother and sister, but it would be a bit creepy since we'd been a couple. We're friends, we're close, and I know I can count on him. You must accept it."

I took her hand. Everything was easier when we physically felt each other. "We are possessive, territorial and prone to jealousy. These are primitive instincts and I try to keep a lid on them. I'm also a civilized person. You had a life before me, I had a life before you. Nothing matters but you. As long as you are mine."

She tucked herself beside me, resting her head against my chest. "I'm also possessive and territorial. It's the blaidd benywaidd in me. Wizards are more rational even when it comes to love. For them, love is trust as much as passion."

"I trust you. Unconditionally. I've just proved it. It doesn't mean I wouldn't rip someone's throat for a wrong look at you."

"I guess I must accept that, then." She pulled herself up, reached for a cushion and tucked it behind her back. "I want to ask you about our fathers. Can we talk about them now?"

"Of course," I said. "They were best friends. They died fighting Seth's men alongside each other. I'm sure they'd tell you that's one of the best ways to go."

"Who found them?"

"James and I. The same night. We brought them home for the funerals."

She swallowed. "What did you do with their bodies? You cremated them?"

"That's what we do."

"Where are my father's ashes?"

"Scattered around the top of Red Cliff Mountain."

She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged her knees. "And Seth? He got away with double murder?" she said. Her voice was low and dark, thick with anger, pain and sorrow.

"We couldn't prove he ordered it. See, my father—and yours, of course—wanted to talk to Rowena. He thought she was kept in Copper Ridge against her will. Seth claimed it was her decision and offered that my father and Hal come to talk to her. My father was a seasoned warrior and a cautious man; he didn't trust Seth. He took care of every security detail." I paused. "I wasn't there so I don't know all the details. I know that Morgaine came from Gelltydd Coch to help. Maybe your grandparents asked her, maybe she did that on her own accord. She had her ideas of what to do, but she could only advise my father, the einhamir. She wasn't the Red Cliffs ellida and his authority suppressed hers. I imagine my father didn't agree to what she proposed. A diplomatic approach, knowing her. My father was a man of action."

"He did what he believed should be done, I'm sure."

"Well, we don't know what would have happened if he'd listened to her. Anyhow, a few days before the supposed meeting, Hal and my father went to visit a few remote ranches in the south. Dad used to go to every single ranch at least once a year, to check on the families that lived there and see if they needed anything. A group of ten of Seth's mercenaries ambushed them on their way home, deep into our territory. My father and Hal killed four of them. Out of those six that survived, two disappeared right after the attack."

"What do you mean 'disappeared?' What happened to them?"

"Nobody knows. I've been searching for them for years."

"Perhaps there were only eight attackers?"

I shook my head. "There were ten of them. I had their names, everything. Seth's been looking for them too, I heard. They know too much and he doesn't want them to start talking. Alas. These two vanished off the face of the earth."

I didn't have the heart to tell Astrid that our fathers' bodies had been half burned. We had identified them only by the traces of their scents and the remains of clothes.

She buried her head in her hands. "Why?" she whispered. "Why did they have to die in such a horrible, inhuman way?"

I didn't know how to answer. I'd asked myself the same question countless times.

Astrid looked up at me. "Did you request a DNA test to confirm their identities?"

"No. Our scent is our DNA print."

"You said werewolves can neutralize their scent. Can't it be changed as well? Transferred from one body to another? Why—"

I moved closed and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. "Astrid. Baby. It was them."

She stared into nothing, nodding slightly. "And then?" she asked after a long silence. "What happened then?"

"Seth had those four arrested and, after a mock trial, executed. We still don't know what exactly happened, only that Seth was behind it. He didn't pay for his crimes then, but pay he will."

"Why would my mother leave my father for a man like Seth?" Astrid said more to herself than to me.

I kissed her temple. Her skin was soft, her hair smelled of her strawberry shampoo. "You think your mother would run away with a madman with you in tow? I'd met him, long ago, when I was a teenager. His mind was sound, he was a friendly, pleasant man. Very handsome. When your mother met him, his madness wasn't obvious. It either came on suddenly, or he was able to hide it for a while.

"I'm sure she didn't want anyone killed. Your parents dated, your mother got pregnant and they got married. Everything happened too fast. They didn't love each other the way a married couple should, but they genuinely liked each other. They were friends, and they loved you. Then perhaps she fell in love with Seth. Rumor says she wanted to become a blaidd benywaidd and that your father refused to turn her. She had the right, as his wife, to become one, but Hal thought she was too young. Seth promised her that."

"Did he turn her?"

"Not that we know."

"If he hoped she'd bear him an ellida, he wouldn't turn her. He needed her to stay a wizard."

"I believe so. Darius's mother was an asanni. Alas, Darius was a disappointment. A boy when Seth dreamed of a girl."

"What happened to Darius's mother?"

"She died in an accident. That's the official version. Knowing Seth, he might've killed her."

"Oh, how terrible. If my mother and Seth had a daughter, that baby would be the firstborn daughter to Seth, but not to my mother. Would she still be an ellida?"

"No one knows. There is no precedence. Seth either believed she would be, or he was willing to give it a shot."

Astrid's head shot upward. "Dear God. He's crazier than I thought. Is there any medical explanation for his madness?"

"Seth's mental state could be the result of interbreeding. For generations, Withali men had been marrying their close blood relatives, seemingly without consequences, until Leidolf, Seth's father, lost his sanity. Seth broke with the tradition, but it was too late."

"What happened to his father?"

"He was a tough leader, but he founded Copper Ridge and under his rule, in a span of several decades, a small village became a well-off and prosperous town. And then he lost his mind. Seth had to kill him."

"Had to? Were there not any other ways?"

Sometimes it was the best way in our world. "If there were, Seth didn't explore them," I said. "Anyhow, in the beginning, Seth seemed competent, but then started losing his mind."

"Among humans, the consequences of inbreeding are serious genetic defects," Astrid said. "There is no reason why it wouldn't affect other humanoids. Messing with genes is like Russian roulette with five bullets in a six-bullet chamber."

"Exactly. The Beast of Gévaudan, Fenrir, Hati, Sköll. They weren't mythical creatures. I mean, they are now, because they're not alive anymore. All of them were the result of genetic mutations."

Astrid gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Real monsters."

"Yes, and I'm afraid you can't treat them in some sanatorium for werewolves. See, we're small in number, which means a small genetic pool. That's the reason why we so often mate with humans. We depend on their blood to keep us healthy. In return, we grant them longevity and excellent health, or they can choose to become one of us."

"Are werewolves truly immortal?"

I sighed. From one difficult topic to another. "Well, immortality implies an existence that has neither a beginning nor an end. We haven't always been on earth, nor will we be here forever. According to our beliefs, there is a place where we go once we're too old, or too tired to carry on. Some sort of werewolf retirement home. It's called _Goedwig Arian_ , the Silver Forest, and it's believed to be ruled by Illeana and her husband Vidar, who was a human, and her parents, Harlan and Yngvild. The spirits of those who die in battle, or are killed, are supposed to go there, too. There they can resume their physical form, either as a wolf or as a human. Anyhow, we live long enough to look immortal. We don't suffer from physical diseases, at least not in the way humans do, although our youngsters could suffer from common childhood diseases. Nothing serious, but they're gentle until they reach early adulthood. We can get injured, break bones. Get slain. Even die of a broken heart. Adults can suffer from mental conditions just like humans—from mild to the most severe. Or worse, as I mentioned."

"Every race wrestles with mental health issues."

"But wizards less than others," I said. Was their mortality the price for their almost perfect mental and physical health during their long lifespans? Wizards could easily live five hundred years, often more.

"We don't suffer from most of the mental health conditions, true," Astrid said. "One of our most important traits, the one that defines us as well as our famous rationality or sense of rightness, is empathy. Our worst and most dangerous mental 'disease' is the lack of empathy. To have such immense mental and physical powers without the ability to understand and share the feelings of others is dangerous. It doesn't happen often, but every now and then, you hear about a wizard that crossed to the dark side. Well, the dark side is the absence of empathy."

"What about your concepts of the afterlife?" I said. "I don't know much about it."

"There _is_ a place where we should go after. Every civilization has one. We call it _Asargard_. It's similar to the human perception of the heavenly realm of the Old Norse gods, down to the sacred tree in the centre of Asargard. It's supposed to be a beautiful city, surrounded by mountains and rivers. Lots of libraries, I guess; we love books."

"Do you see now why it's said that ellidas combine the best of both bloods? They got longevity and physical health from gwerin y blaidd, mental health, and humanity from asyngaer. They possess rational minds and fierce emotions, all at once."

"I wish we had the power to destroy evil."

I pulled her closer. "You do."

She shook her head. "As I see it, my mandate is to help disassemble it, piece by piece."

"Tyrants and despots seem invincible. But in the end, they always fall. Always." I kissed the tip of her nose. "We have many reasons to be optimistic. There's a strong resistance movement inside Copper Ridge. Seth's days are counted. Once Darius decides to take him down, he'll have our help. It might be over faster than we think."

"And what if Darius suffers from the same malady as his father? We'll have another crazy man twenty miles away."

"Darius is different. I can't explain how I know, but I'm sure everything's fine with him."

"Tell me about him."

"He's about thirty. He's been in Europe for the last twelve years, first studying and then working. He's a mechanical engineer. He's in Scotland now, on an oil rig in the North Sea. From what we heard, Darius has always been at odds with his father, but he's close to your mother."

_Oh._ "I'm glad."

Astrid's eyes welled with tears, so I quickly returned to the topic of bringing Seth down and restoring normal life in Copper Ridge. "We are neighbors and relatives. We used to be the closest and most connected two clans on the whole continent. We lived side by side for generations, intermarried, visited each other, traded, built, celebrated together, even fought together."

"Is there any contact between Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge now? Do people go to visit each other?"

"It's impossible to sever all connections, but in general, Red Cliffers are not welcomed there and people from Copper Ridge can't leave their territory without Seth's personal permission. We have to work around it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the financial help Red Cliffs has been providing for the last twenty years. James organized a support network through his connections with the Copper Ridge diaspora. So far everything's going smoothly and without Seth's knowledge. At least he doesn't seem to know where the help is coming from."

"In other words, regardless of his personal feud with Seth, my uncle has been helping the neighborhood clan. That speaks volumes about his character."

I picked a stray lock of Astrid's hair and tucked it behind her ear. "Your uncle is a great leader. For James—and for all of us, for that matter—Copper Ridge is not Seth Withali. Copper Ridge is its children and its people, our friends and relatives, simple folk who suffer because their einhamir is a crazy despot. 'Seth will be gone one day; Copper Ridge isn't going anywhere', that's what your uncle says. And your presence," I added quietly, "will set many things in motion and ultimately restore balance not only in Red Cliffs but also in Copper Ridge."

"Restore balance," she repeated softly. "You keep saying that. How am I going to restore balance? What I am going to do?"

"It's your presence, I told you."

"It cannot be only my presence. I'm not Master Yoda! I'm supposed to do something, to act, to help, but I don't know how, damn it."

"You don't need to do anything you haven't done countless times before." I rocked her gently, kissing her hair and stroking her back until she stopped shivering. "You were born to help people, to make them feel better, to bring out their good side. I told you, it's already in you."

"Right now, I'm feeling like a darn tribe talisman," she said and wiggled out of my embrace. "I'm going to make some tea."

She marched into the kitchen. I watched her grab the edge of the counter with both hands and lean forward.

Chapter Twenty

Astrid

"DAMN IT, WHAT'S HAPPENED TO my life?"

I jerked the cupboard door open, rummaging through the contents of the shelves. "There isn't decent loose-leaf tea in this house! I hate tea from bags. Tastes like soapsuds." I shoved the cabinet door and it closed with a loud bang.

I didn't hear Jack approach me until his hands closed around me. His warm, solid body pressed against my back. "About soapsuds, you're right," he said, kissing my neck. "They do taste horrible."

I closed my eyes, nestling the back of my head on his shoulder and letting the gentle flow of our bond calm me down. "How do you know?"

"When I was about five or six, my friend Adam Mackenzie—I mentioned him before—double-dared me to have a sip. Astrid, I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair. "I didn't mean to upset you. You're doing great. I know how difficult it is."

I turned to face him. "Do you? Do any of you know? I didn't ask for any of this. I don't know what to do. I'm scared."

Jack kissed my temple. "I'll be with you. I'll protect you with everything I have."

"I know," I said, rubbing my forehead. "I only wish we could be ordinary people."

"If you were an ordinary human, you'd have a headache now."

I smiled in spite of myself. "And we'd have sex, and my headache would be gone. An orgasm is a natural cure for headaches."

Jack took my hand and tugged me out of the kitchen. "Not the best subject to discuss now. Do you want to go for a walk? Let's go buy some nice loose-leaf tea."

I shook my head. "Let's stay here. You can tell me about your family."

We resumed our spots on the sofa. Jack took one of the cushions and placed it on his lap. "Come." He patted the cushion. "Put your head here."

"Not the best position to try now," I said, but lowered my head on his thighs, closer to his knees.

"There you are. Just don't move too much. So, about my family. My mother, Eve, married your uncle a few years after my father died. I think James had always been in love with her, but my father was his best friend and James, honorable as he is, would've rather died than to reveal his true feelings. It took him a while to muster enough courage to ask my mother to marry him."

"Were your mother and father bond mates?"

He smiled. "No, they weren't. They were just regularly crazy about each other."

"What about her and James? They seem to have a good marriage."

"Bonding isn't common, Astrid, and that's why it's even more special. My mother and James have one of the best marriages I've ever seen, but they're not bonded. They love each other deeply. Do they need a stronger bond than that? Or maybe bonding works in different ways for different people, who knows? They had two children together, another proof that they belong to each other. Our kind does not procreate as easily as humans. We live very long lives, and this is one of nature's ways to control the size of our population."

"Are we going to have children?"

"I hope so."

My stomach fluttered. "I've never thought about being a mother before."

"Me neither. Being a father, I mean. Until I met you."

God. One day I'd have sons and daughters with this man. Unknown pleasure mixed with longing spread throughout me. It could be an overstatement, but it seemed to me that Jack had just awakened my inner mother.

Better not to dwell on that right now. "Tell me about your relationship with my uncle," I said. "I have a silly question: who's older? Technically, it could be you."

"James is older."

It wouldn't matter if Jack was older, but it was still a relief to know he wasn't. I contemplated asking him _how_ old they were but changed my mind. "How does it work, with some of you old, some not, some human, some half-human?"

Jack's fingers plowed gently through my hair. "We just know. Rather than, let's say, the length of our existence, what truly matters is the relationship between us. Regardless of age, James _feels_ like my father."

"How do you call him?"

"Father, James, even Dad, depends on the context. Our sense of family is strong, stronger than among humans, and it's not defined only by blood. There's no difference between step-relatives and blood relatives."

I craned my neck and looked up at him. "Hm. Not even between step-cousins?"

He tapped the tip of my nose. "Except when they fall in love."

"Good. I don't like to think about you as my cousin," I said.

"Have no fear, Astrid. Close relatives do not bond."

"Ah, now I understand what you meant when you said there were no roadblocks for us. Now tell me about your siblings."

His sister Maggie was twenty-two, Jack said with a broad smile. She was in Austin, studying physics at the University of Texas. His brother, Eamon, was seventeen and wanted to study music.

"He plays electric guitar. He's good. He has his own hard-rock band. Rawhide. They play on weekends in a local pub, Goblin's Hollow. Not much of their own music, otherwise, they probably wouldn't have many customers there. It's good music, though. I like it."

"So what do they play? Country?"

He laughed at that. "Not if Eamon can help it. Rock-and-roll, but also pop, jazz and blues."

"Do you play any instrument?"

"Electric guitar. Sometimes, when I'm in Red Cliffs, I play with the band. Maggie used to sing on the weekends before she went to Austin. That was a compromise: the guests can't tolerate much of the Rawhide music, and Eamon refuses to sing 'girly' songs. His words, not mine."

"I would be disappointed, too. I like 'girly' songs."

"Wait until Eamon hears that," Jack said. "The band had an open position for a singer for their weekend shows at Goblin's Hollow. Here is your chance for stardom."

"Yeah, sure. An ellida who sings. That wouldn't strengthen my position."

"In fact, it would," Jack said, completely serious. "Music connects people. But I know you've dreamed of an opera house and Goblin's Hollow is only a pub."

"A stage is a stage," I said. "If you love to sing, all you need is an audience who likes listening to you, but I'm not going to sing in front of the people I nominally rule over."

Jack let out a mock sigh. "Then I'm afraid there isn't another way other than to seize a concert hall and for a night let you sing whatever you want. It shouldn't be _that_ difficult. The audience, except family and friends, wouldn't remember anything, only the most beautiful voice they've ever heard."

I chuckled, playing the scene in my imagination, but a subtle firm, determined undertone in Jack's voice, made me think he hadn't been joking. He'd do it for me.

This evening was the time for some important answers, though, so once more I redirected our conversation to more concrete topics. I still needed the answers to some important questions, so I steered the conversation in that direction.

"Why did James send Alec and Lily as reinforcements? It's inconceivable that Liv and Tristan alone couldn't protect me."

"We were anticipating more trouble, that's why. And we were right. Before I came to Rosenthal, somebody from Copper Ridge phoned Tristan and told him that last month Seth sent his people to look for you."

"But they didn't get close to finding me, did they?"

"They were looking for you in Dallas. They followed a false tip, perhaps."

"Who called Tristan?"

"We don't know. It's always a female's voice."

"Maybe it's my mother," I said, holding my breath.

"No, Tristan would recognize her voice. Somebody from Copper Ridge has been contacting us on a regular basis in the last few years. It's not the same person each time," Jack said softly. "It's possible that your mother is behind it, but there's no way to know that for sure, not for now. Try not to think too much about it until we learn more. Okay?"

Easy to say. I puffed out my cheeks. "Tell me about Red Cliffs. Where am I going to live? I mean before we can live together? Where am I going to work?"

"You have your family house."

"I do?"

"Yes. It's a nice, big house, next to James and my mother's. And mine, for that matter." Jack stroked my cheek. "As for your job, we have a quite modern medical center in Red Cliffs. The town has about five thousand residents and twice as many tourists during ski season. No lack of broken bones and all sorts of injuries. They'd be delighted to have you."

"Did you live in Red Cliffs when I was born? Did you see me as a baby?" I asked.

"I didn't live in Red Cliffs back then. I returned when my father was killed." He stroked my cheek. "I was completely oblivious to the fact that my future wife had been born."

I looked up at him. "But you wouldn't have known, even if you'd seen me, or held me? I mean, you wouldn't have felt the bond, would you?"

"Of course not. You must be an adult to feel the bond. It's a complete connection, including sexual. It happens between two adults only. I would've gladly babysat you, though. We're good with kids. They love when we turn into a wolf and play with them. We're sort of like their pets."

This made me laugh. "Cute. I might like it there."

"If you don't mind an abundance of snow and long winters, you'll like Red Cliffs. It's a small, but dynamic and vibrant town. We all know each other and tend to—how should I put it—be a part of each other's life more than maybe you've gotten used to, but we don't mean any harm. It's more like we are a big, noisy family. That was the main reason I lived almost half of my life somewhere else. And the reason why I always came back. It's home. We are social, we love gatherings of all sorts. That's probably why we have so many festivals related to the moon, not to mention other holidays." He leaned forward and kissed my lips. "Wherever I was away, I missed Red Cliffs. People there sometimes have a hard time staying out of your life, but they're good, warm and caring. Once they accept you, you are a part of their life, and they'll do anything for you."

"I don't fit the picture, I'm afraid. I'm a private person."

"You'll be a public figure; it comes with your position. You'll learn to balance your private and public life. That's what I do. Red Cliffs will respect it."

"At least I don't need to be sacrificed on the sacred stone," I said with a snort and reluctantly pulled myself up. "I should go to sleep, I'm working tomorrow. I have three back-to-back surgeries."

Jack pushed himself to his feet. "I'll wake you up in the morning. Six o'clock?"

"Sounds good." I propped myself on my toes and pressed my lips against his.

Chapter Twenty-One

Astrid

MY LAST SURGERY AT ROSENTHAL General Hospital was a standard arthroscopic procedure to repair a medial meniscus tear on the left knee of a healthy thirty-two-year-old former athlete, and no complications were expected.

When we finished, I thanked my team: two surgical nurses and Dr. Ahmed Demir, the anesthesiologist. He was a quiet man in his mid-forties, with expressive dark eyes, receding hair, a beer belly and fascinating hands. They were long-fingered, strong and elegant. Oddly enough, they looked two decades younger than the rest of him.

Dr. Demir and I shared that special connection that sometimes develops between two people who have worked together for a long time and know each other well. What was strange was that we'd been working together only a year, and we didn't socialize outside the hospital.

We both were born doctors, Ahmed and I, and that's how I explained our strange closeness. When we operated together, it was as if we didn't need to talk. We read each other's thoughts. Once I left the hospital, I'd miss him more than anybody else.

Back in my office, I completed the patient's file and finished the paperwork before I went to see my other patients. Mrs. Fontaine was healing with incredible speed, and she would be released the next day. The young woman and her husband that had been injured on Friday evening in the accident were on the fast road to recovery. Their daughters were already with their relatives.

A good way to conclude my short-lived surgical career in Rosenthal.

God, I hated departures of any kind.

My phone rang, pulling me out of my musings. _Jack_ , the display said, and my heart sped up, despite my melancholic mood.

"Hey."

"Hey, how was it?" His voice was soft, sexy. I closed my eyes, wishing he could be with me.

"God."

"Tired?"

"A bit." Not from doing the surgery—my change was approaching. "When do you think we should go to the cabin?"

An hour's drive from Rosenthal, the small log cabin was the place where I went during my transformations. Deep into the mountains, on the edge of a dense forest, a remote and secure place, the cabin was far away from unexpected visitors. Despite everything it was associated with—pain, exhaustion, memory lapses—I liked that place. I liked the smell of its wooden structure, the pleasant semi-darkness inside of it, the rustic furniture, the almost absolute silence that surrounded it, the pitch-darkness of the night, the forest at its back, dark green, cool, enchanted.

The forest had been attracting me like a magnet. In a strange way, it felt like home, and I'd always wanted to go deep into it. Unfortunately, I'd always been too weak to do it. The forest had been the promise of an unknown freedom. It had been calling me and talking to me in its ancient language, which I couldn't understand, but guessed the meaning nonetheless.

"How about by the end of the week?" Jack suggested.

"That's fine. The full moon is on Sunday." I lowered my voice to a soft whisper. "You're gonna be alone with a big bad wolf. Aren't you scared?"

"Nah, I think I can handle her," Jack said with a smile in his voice. "When will you be done today?"

"At four. Will you pick me up?"

Not so long ago, I'd fussed about it and refused to call him after my shift. Well, things had changed.

"Sure. Supper will be ready, and a bubble bath. I miss you, Astrid," Jack whispered, causing fluttery waves in my stomach and a rush of wetness between my legs. And I wasn't the only one aroused. "Missing you gives me a serious hard-on, you know."

I blushed like a schoolgirl. "Er, I wish I could help. I miss you too. I'll see you later."

THE RELAXING BATHTUB AND INTIMATE dinner in my little kitchen had to be postponed.

As soon as I finished talking to Jack, his voice still echoing in my ears, my desk phone rang. According to the number, a long-distance call.

"Dr. Duplant?" an unknown voice asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Mahoney from the Children's Hospital in Stanford. I've just spoken to your CEO, Dr. Blake. We need you here to operate on a seven-year-old girl. A dog attacked her and smashed her right hand. Almost every single bone has been broken. We wanted to send our own chopper to bring you here, but Dr. Blake insisted on sending you with your own helicopter."

I bet he did. It'd be easier to send somebody with me if I went with our helicopter.

"Sure. It will save us some time," I said.

"What will you need?"

"I'm bringing our anesthesiologist with me, Dr. Demir. Make the OR ready. Do the usual prep. Have the patient history and the lab results accessible. I'll go through her file on my way there. That will do. Is she otherwise healthy?"

I heard him clicking the mouse. "Yes. Normal weight and height."

"The dog?"

"American Staffordshire Terrier. It was her dog."

Ugh. A strong breed, able to do severe damage. "I'll be on my way soon, Dr. Mahoney."

"Thank you, Dr. Duplant. I'm relieved you're coming. I'm looking forward to meeting you."

The line disconnected. I let out a deep breath, wondering how Tristan was going to organize my trip. Who would go with me? Would he sneak Liv onto the helicopter? He couldn't openly go, it would be too obvious. Oh well. I would let him worry about that part.

I had to call my favorite anesthesiologist.

On an impulse, I glanced through the window and saw Ahmed in the parking lot. He appeared to be heading home. "Not so fast, Ahmed," I whispered, eyes fixed on his back. "We haven't finished yet. I need you back."

As if he could hear me, Ahmed turned, lifted his head and gave me an inquiring look. _What's going on?_ his expression asked. I waved him back, simultaneously making a call. As I spoke, I could see him start to walk faster and faster, entering the hospital almost at a run.

Tristan came to my office shortly after. "Everything's okay, Astrid," he said, looking pleased with himself. "You and Dr. Demir may go."

"Who's coming with me?" I didn't think it was necessary for anyone to escort me, but I knew better than to try to tell that to Tristan.

"Everything's under control. You'll be safe."

Which probably meant Liv had already been smuggled onto the helicopter, and neither Demir nor the pilot would know about our secret passenger.

"I have to talk to Jack," I said and reached for my phone.

"I've spoken with him already. He knows you are going."

"And he's okay with that? What did you tell him? How come he's not already here, giving you grief about my safety?"

"I assured him you would be safe."

I phoned him anyway, readying myself for his disapproval of the plan. "Tristan told you what happened?" I said carefully.

"Yes, yes. Everything's fine." His voice was calm.

How strange, I thought.

"Make something we can reheat," I said. "I don't know when I'll be back. Those surgeries often last for hours."

"It's okay, baby."

"Bye, Jack." I hung up and stared bemusedly at the phone. "I've known him for a whole week now, and yet he still puzzles me," I smirked and looked at Tristan for an answer. He just scratched his head and smiled but didn't offer any explanation regarding Jack's cool reaction.

"Give me a call me as soon as you're done. If you aren't too tired, come to our place tonight," he said.

"Sure."

My phone buzzed. The Emergency Transportation Department informed me that the helicopter was ready.

I knocked on Ahmed's door, and soon both of us were on our way to the small helipad. The helicopter door was open, the blades rotating slowly. Ahmed got in first.

I stopped in the middle of my step as the familiar scent reached my nostrils. Of course! Who else did I expect to go with me? It was so logical.

"Welcome aboard, Dr. Duplant, Dr. Demir. I'm Jack Canagan, your pilot. I'll take you to Stanford and back."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Astrid

WE WERE ON OUR WAY back to Rosenthal six long hours later.

It'd been a long and complex surgery. All five metacarpal bones and most of the phalanx had been broken, but luckily not shattered. It would take some time to heal, but in due time, all the functions of the hand would be restored.

"Dr. Duplant, if you want, you may take the seat beside me," Jack said in a soft voice. I glanced toward Ahmed. He seemed to be asleep, his ever-so-young hands crossed over his abdomen.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and moved to the co-pilot seat. My hand touched Jack's upper arm and the warm stream rushed through me, sweeping the tiredness away.

"What have you been doing all these long hours?" I asked.

"Reading a book. Waiting for you to finish. Thinking about you." Without taking his eyes from the invisible route in front of the helicopter, Jack leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "I missed you."

I pressed my head against his arm and breathed him in deeply. "I missed you, too."

"How was it?" Jack asked. "How's your little patient?"

"She'll be okay. I waited until she woke up from the anesthesia. There was a lot of damage, but she'll recover. God, she's only seven. A tiny little thing. Her bones are so delicate. The damn dog could've killed her if it'd aimed for her throat. The mother threw herself on it."

"How's the mother?"

"She ended up with a ripped upper arm. They patched her up. They'll both be fine. Now, how on earth did you end up in the cockpit? I didn't even know you're a helicopter pilot."

He laughed. "Didn't come up in our conversations." He kissed my temple. "Tristan phoned to tell me you had to go to Stanford, and I told him I'd go with you. I left the technicalities to him. I think he hired me on the spot. I signed some papers."

Dear Tristan, ever so practical and resourceful. "What did he tell our pilots?"

"I have no idea."

"He'll scrub their memory. They won't remember a thing."

"Probably. Are you tired?"

"My adrenaline's still running high. I'm so happy everything went smoothly." I closed my eyes for a second _,_ listening to the already familiar sound of Jack's heart that echoed in my ear.

"YOUR STEAK, ASTRID. RARE, AS per your request," Tristan said and placed the plate in front of me. "Ours will need a few minutes more."

I'd asked Tristan to make my steak rare. With my change approaching, not only my appetite increased but also my taste for less cooked meat.

We sat in the Blakes' dining room. It was almost midnight. Under normal circumstances and among more ordinary people it would be too late for a visit, but around the table sat four people with specific sleeping and eating habits.

Werewolves' metabolisms, I'd learned, required little sleep. Jack had said he could go days without taking even a nap. My own body was happy with just a few hours of rest, except before my monthly change.

Tristan and Liv also didn't need more than that. Like most of their kind, these two Tel-Urughs functioned perfectly well during daylight. Sunlight didn't bother them. After all, their race originated from a place with plenty of sunshine.

As with the other species, unless you knew where to look, nothing would tell them apart from humans. Tel-Urughs also camouflaged their true identity by adopting common human habits. Tristan had been scrupulous about it, resorting to his extraordinary abilities only when it was necessary. The Blakes were well adjusted to the human day-night rhythm, taking their short sleeping time in the wee hours of the night.

By their nature, however, Tel-Urughs were nocturnal creatures. For millennia their most important activity, feeding, had been during the night, and the burst of energy that followed made them anything but sleepy.

Puncturing arteries of humans of the opposite sex—or the same, if that was the sexual orientation of both participants—and drinking blood not only kept Tel-Urughs alive and vigorous but had a great effect on their libidos as well. Humans had many misconceptions about Tel-Urughs, but when it came to their sexual appetites, they got it right.

Sex and relationships with humans and others were not uncommon, although Tel-Urughs satisfied their legendary carnal needs mostly with their Tel-Urugh partners.

As for feeding, humans didn't suffer through the procedure unless they were unfortunate enough to come across a rogue. Induced into a dreamlike state, they didn't remember the experience on a conscious level. To them, it seemed like the most beautiful erotic dream. There was no physical damage and they didn't become Tel-Urughs unless it was done on purpose.

A human could be turned into a Tel-Urugh—or a werewolf, for that matter—but such cases were sporadic. As human blood was essential to Tel-Urughs' existence, turning them would be neither practical nor ethical. There was another reason to leave humans unchanged—reproduction. Tel-Urugh babies, although similar to every other species' offspring until they reach adulthood, were a rare occurrence. Procreation among Tel-Urughs was near impossible. Humans had proved to be the best mating partners for Tel-Urughs, thus establishing another deep, fundamental connection between them. Tel-Urughs, the most powerful race, was also the most dependent on humans.

In spite of the great physical pleasure associated with one-on-one feeding, the Blakes, as well as many other modern-day Tel-Urughs, opted for the less satisfying yet handier "bottled food" for their bi-weekly intake of blood. Tristan particularly opposed to feeding on humans. He called it "a barbarous practice that should be prohibited by law," primarily because humans often were not willing participants.

Luckily, they needed only a small amount of blood. A few ounces were sufficient to sustain them between feedings. In the meantime, protein-rich food did just fine. Tristan and Liv had their favorite foods and their dislikes, like everybody else. Livia loved Italian cuisine and enjoyed fine Central European cakes and pastries. Tristan, with his refined taste, preferred French cooking above any other.

DURING DINNER, I SAT BESIDE Jack. Our bodies touched as much as table manners allowed. I could sense the latent presence of my wolf, not only under my skin and in my blood, but in my conscious mind as well. She was trying to come out, responding to Jack's physical presence, but she seemed willing to retreat whenever I pushed her back.

Or was she?

Livia and I were in the kitchen making coffee when she turned to me and looked into my eyes. "Your eyes are darker. She's close, isn't she?"

"She's been trying to come out since Jack came," I said. "I feel her. I think she wants to communicate with me. I can hear her in my thoughts, sort of, but she can't hear me. Or I believe she can't. I want to know her better. Crazy, huh?"

Livia came close and hugged me. "Not at all. You've never wanted me to tell you about when you change. I think your wolf knows a great deal about you. It is time for you to know her as well. Your wolf is smart and beautiful. She knows what she's doing."

"She's reacting to Jack."

"And you don't?" Livia chuckled. "You just let her take all the blame. She's just more natural in expressing her needs. But those are your needs as well, she wants what you want."

"Nicely put, Liv." Jack's voice came from the dining room, followed by Jack himself. He hugged me from behind.

"Let's go for lunch tomorrow," Liv said to me, "After that, we can go shopping. I saw a fabulous dress in one of the boutiques downtown."

"A big yes to lunch and a less enthusiastic yes for shopping."

"She's every man's dream," Liv said to Jack, motioning toward me. "Hates shopping. Imagine."

"She's _my_ dream girl," Jack said, kissing my neck. "What am I going to do in the meantime?"

Liv chuckled. "You can join us."

"Yeah, sure. Dress shopping's one of my favorite activities."

"You and I will have a boys' afternoon out," Tristan said from the living room. "I can show you the local attractions such as pubs and bars."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Astrid

TO ME, LIVIA BLAKE WAS the most beautiful creature alive. Her perfect appearance combined her sophisticated, noble look and incredible sex appeal. Her beauty was absolute, regardless of the era, fashion or style. She was a contemporary Queen Nefertiti—the _idea_ of feminine beauty itself.

Liv's face was a perfect oval, her grey almond-shaped eyes framed by thick, curved lashes. To say they were grey wouldn't do them justice since their color shifted constantly, depending on the surroundings or Liv's emotional state. Sometimes they were light, like silver, some other times so dark that they looked almost black. Grey-blue one moment, they'd become grey-green with a turn of her head.

Speaking of the eyes, those of the Langaer were different than those of humans. Morphologically, they were made to see better and last much longer. The other thing that set them apart was the variety of shades within the usual colors and the appearance—because of our multilayered irises, our eyes looked like they were illuminated from inside. Thanks to the fact that humans also could have beautiful eyes and unusual eye colors, we didn't stand out.

Livia's hair was midnight-dark and she wore it shoulder length, styled according to the latest fashion. Her radiant skin, her high forehead, her nose, lips, chin—all parts of that beautiful head were in harmony. She was tall, just a bit shorter than my five foot eight, with a firm, full bust, narrow waist, nicely rounded hips and long, shapely legs.

And with all that perfection she would've been just another beautiful woman if it hadn't been for the elegance of her movements, sleek and smooth like a tigress, the tone of her voice, velvety and warm. Her charm radiated from her complete personality, including her capable mind and sharp tongue, her deep humanity, and the aura of eternity and something absolute that surrounded her.

She had an air of mystery, unquestionable authority, confidence. It could be her "age." Nobody knew how old she was, with the possible exception of her husband. From time to time, she would offhandedly mention names well known from history books. Eleanor of Aquitaine, Catherine de Medici, David Hume, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Voltaire. Once I'd asked Tristan how old Liv was, but he just smiled and shrugged. "In her own way, Liv is a bit self-conscious about her age, I suppose," he'd said. "Besides, every woman is entitled to her little secrets."

Livia was her adopted name; her real name was Nanaya. I'd learned that accidentally. Was she named after the Mesopotamian goddess of beauty, sex and war, or was she the goddess herself? I didn't know and didn't want to ask, choosing to believe the former. I didn't know how I would wrap my head around the fact that my friend and protector was an ancient deity.

LIV AND I WENT TO Palatine Hill for lunch.

In the last few days, I'd had the opportunity to talk to Jack about many things. There were questions, however, that I preferred to ask Liv.

"So, what can you tell me about Jack?" I asked as we waited for our order—soup and panini sandwiches. I'd started with an open question, leaving it to Liv to take whichever path she liked.

"Tristan and I met him during the war with the Usurper," she said. "Some werewolf clans became our allies, thanks to Brian Canagan and your grandfather. That's when we got to know James, your father, your grandmother and many other asyngaer and gwerin y blaidd."

I KNEW ABOUT THE WAR. Everyone did. It had happened decades before I was born. Salvatore de Burgos, the Usurper, was a charismatic and powerful Tel-Urugh, who'd believed his mission was to return dignity to his race. He'd preached that humans, who'd been created to provide food for Tel-Urughs, had overpopulated the world; their procreation had to be controlled. Tel-Urughs had become too benevolent and forgotten their own purpose. How had he planned to strengthen them? By eliminating the most influential and strongest Tel-Urughs, the leaders of their society. Without them, the ordinary people would join him. Then he would create a new world, with Tel-Urughs as its supreme race, and humans on the bottom of the ladder. If this sounded like some of the darkest periods of human history, it wasn't coincidental.

It was bull, but some listened. Salvatore de Burgos had gathered his Legionaries—a bloodthirsty, powerful and well-trained army of his ideological followers and upiri mercenaries.

The war had been brutal. The Usurper's army was strong and efficient; the ordinary Tel-Urughs unprepared for such conflict. By the time they had consolidated their forces and come up with a plan of how to fight Salvatore de Burgos's army, many civilian Tel-Urughs had been slaughtered and their properties destroyed.

At first, wizards and werewolves had wanted to stay neutral, not believing de Burgos was strong enough to succeed. Some had thought otherwise, among them my grandfather and Brian Canagan, Jack's father: the Usurper was a serious threat for all the races and he had to be stopped.

Wizards and werewolves soon reconsidered their neutrality. Honoring the ancient alliances between the three races, many of them joined the Tel-Urugh forces that fought against the Usurper.

The war had lasted almost a year, ending with the epic Battle of Raven Crossing, up in the far North, far from human eyes. Salvatore de Burgos's army couldn't stand a chance against the united front of Tel-Urughs, wizards and werewolves. Most of his Legionaries had been eliminated. Some had escaped, de Burgos included.

What I didn't know about was the fact that Jack, along with his father and my grandfather, had been some of the war's heroes.

THE WAITRESS CAME WITH OUR order. She served us our food and filled our glasses with water. After a "Buon appetito!" and a smile, she retreated.

While we ate, we chitchatted about nothing in particular. When we finished, I dabbed the corner of my mouth with the napkin, folded it, took a sip of water, shifted in my seat. "Liv, I have to ask you something."

Liv tilted her head. "Okay, fire it out."

I took a deep breath. "How old is he?"

"Thirty-five," she said without a blink. "The majority of werewolves stop aging in their late twenties or early thirties, except alphas and other leaders. Their margin is mid-to-late thirties. I guess it's only for psychological reasons. Their slightly older look evokes confidence in others."

I rolled my eyes. " _How long_ has he been thirty-five?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. But I need to know."

"He was born in 1894."

"Oh."

Well. I'd been dating a man of my grandfather's age. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and let the revelation sink in.

But then I remembered Jack's handsome face, his disarrayed brown hair, his warm, amber eyes with an everlasting smile lurking in their depths, his muscled body in a tight shirt washed one time too many and faded blue jeans. I saw his strong and beautiful hands. I perceived his scent and the warm flow of our bond as if he'd touched me that moment. And the world, which had seemed distorted a flash before, resumed its usual shape.

"He's young for a werewolf," Liv said as if defending him. "He's about Tristan's age."

"Practically babies." I snorted. "It's fine, Liv, really. It's just a matter of seeing things from a different angle. You, for example, look fantastic for your age."

Liv laughed. "Well, you're about to join the immortals' club."

Indeed. "Hm. Thirty-five, you say." Only nine years older than me. I could live with that. "What else can you tell me about him?"

"Smart, honest, honorable, loyal. Overprotective, possessive, and not only because he's a werewolf. His human part is the same. Well, Tel-Urughs are even worse, if that's of any consolation. Your wizardkind's different, but you're a werewolf as well, so you should understand. You also have it in your blood."

"Jack handled Ingmar's visit well," I reminded her.

"Oh, it wasn't easy for him to leave you with your ex when all his instincts told him to fight him. But yes, he was great. He also almost broke the table at the cafe he grabbed it that hard."

"He told me about the culinary school he went to in Paris. Why did he go to Paris? He said it was some time ago. How long ago? Was he there with someone?"

Liv cleared her throat. "He went there a couple of years ago. He had a girlfriend, a serious relationship. She was young, and he was quite smitten with her. She was attractive—tall, dark hair, lovely face. Jack was ultra-possessive, of course; she didn't understand it because she didn't know who he was. Not that it's an excuse, of course. Anyhow, they broke up. She married another guy. Jack was heartbroken. He traveled for a while then went to France and lived there for a year. Collected himself and came back. Nothing overly dramatic."

"What was her name?" I needed to put a name to the face.

"Lani Blackwell." Liv tilted her head and look at me from under her eyelashes. "It was over long before Jack met you so there is nothing to worry about."

Yeah. Jealousy swept over me in hot, raging waves, twisting my stomach and filling me with pain and anger. An invisible claw squeezed my heart so hard that I lost my breath. I was hurt and angry because Jack had loved somebody before, cared for her, kissed her, made love to her.

It was completely irrational, yet I couldn't help myself.

Astrid the asanni was a creature of cool logic and reason. Astrid the blaidd benywaidd was possessive and territorial, and at this very moment, she had the upper hand.

Liv stopped, detecting the signs of my distress.

"Astrid, are you okay?"

I nodded. "Just an acute attack of absurd jealousy. I'll be fine."

She watched me, amused, alert. I felt her firm grip over my wrist and heard her concerned whisper. "Take it easy, darling. Your eyes are changing color."

"I'm okay, Liv." I managed a tiny smile and took a few deep breaths. "I'm okay. My wolf's close."

"Don't let her come closer, otherwise I'll need to deal with a bunch of humans and their memories. Take a deep breath."

"Let's go, Liv."

"Sure. God, I thought for a moment you might turn."

Me too. "I was jealous of his past," I said, shaking my head in disbelieve. I felt as if I had come out of a light trance. "Go figure."

Liv squeezed my hand. "It's normal, Astrid. An unknown part of you is going to emerge. New emotions, new thoughts, new ways of seeing things. Jealousy, possessiveness. Passion. But you have your asanni to balance it out. It's still the same you, only richer. Allow yourself to be who you truly are. Just _be_. Okay?"

"Okay."

Liv turned and beckoned the waitress.

"I'll pay," I said and grabbed my purse.

She stopped me, placing her hand over mine. "Nah. It's on me, for going shopping with me. I know how much you dislike it."

"Well, true. But I like your company." I smiled. "All is in balance, isn't it?"

Chapter Twenty-Four

Astrid

JACK WAS AT HOME WHEN Liv dropped me off.

He made me a cup of tea and a coffee for himself. With a sigh of relief, I lowered myself on the sofa beside Jack and pressed my head against his bicep. He put his arm around my shoulder.

The room was filled with the golden light of the early afternoon and quiet. Only the muffled sound of sporadic traffic interrupted the soft silence.

I turned my head and looked at Jack, so young and handsome, so full of life and energy, and thought about his age. And how irrelevant it was.

He caught my glance. "What?"

I shook my head and smiled. "Nothing. What did you and Tristan do?"

"We went to his golf club. The course was empty, so we had time for one round. We had lunch there. Later, when I returned, I spoke to James." He took my hand and laced our fingers. "I have some good news. My grandfather and your uncle spoke with Ellida Morgaine. She'll come to Red Cliffs to spend some time with you."

A relief mixed with panic washed over me. It would be awesome to have some support, but what if I didn't fulfill her expectations? "I'm grateful, of course, but—" I stopped abruptly. "Wait a second. Your grandfather? You've never mentioned your grandfather."

"Well, it didn't come up in our conversations. He's the einhamir of the Gelltydd Coch clan."

Not a small thing to forget, but then, two people could learn only so much about each other in less than a week. "Do you have a grandmother as well?"

"Yes, but since my father's death, our relationship has been strained. They love me, of course; I'm the only child of their only son, and I love them. But they're still angry at me for refusing to become the einhamir."

"Oh. I'm sorry. What are their names?"

Jack's lips tugged upward. "Robert, the Lord Einhamir of the Northern Lands and Lady Anwen," he said in a mockingly formal voice as if announcing their entrance.

"The _Lord_ Einhamir? _Lady_ Anwen?"

"Their official titles. Rob and Ann, for family and friends," he added with a warm smile. Anyway, Grandpa's a bit of an old-fashioned and short-tempered man. The complete opposite personality from my father." Jack chuckled softly. "But not unlike your uncle in that way. My father's death was devastating to my grandparents. From my grandfather's perspective, I turned my back on his legacy, and my mother betrayed him by marrying his best friend."

"What should she do? Mourn your father forever? Does your grandfather think that James usurped the einhamir position?"

Jack shook his head. "No, he likes and respects James, or at least he used to until he married my mom."

"What about your grandmother?"

"Ah. You can say Robert rules the roost but Anwen rules the rooster. She's usually able to keep him in line, but in this matter, she's on his side."

"Do you ever visit them?"

Jack ran his hand through his hair. "I do. I go to Wales once a year to see them. They come to Winston once a year, they're close friends with Einhamir Bessim and his wife. We meet somewhere halfway for a day or two when they are here because they never come to Red Cliffs. It's still painful for them." He kissed the tip of my nose. "See, when I said you'd restore balance, this is what I meant. Thanks to you, Robert and James have started communicating again. They're ready to forget their squabbles."

"I'm glad your grandfather agreed to send Morgaine to help me. God knows I'll need it."

"It wasn't his decision to make," Jack said and brushed his knuckle down my cheekbone. "Morgaine overrules him, remember? But he and James are both clever men. They provided you with the necessary guidance, but also used it as a chance for reconciliation, which should've happened long ago had they not both been too stubborn."

"Tell me about Ellida. Is she married?"

"No, but she has a daughter with a blaidd from Gelltydd Coch. Leary is a year or two younger than you."

"What's Morgaine's surname?"

"Evans."

Evans. It sounded so ordinary. "Phew. I was afraid you'd tell me she was Morgaine le Fey," I said. " _That_ would freak me out."

"Morgaine's a bit secretive. You'll see. She knows way more than she says. She's a great observer, clever, wise. She does things her way, though, and she often doesn't bother to explain why and how. But I think you'll like her."

"Is it possible not to like an ellida?"

"I guess not. Still, some are loved more than others."

Ellida had lots of plans for me, as it turned out. One of them was particularly interesting —she asked James to find me a martial arts teacher.

"Why would I need to learn human fighting techniques?" I asked. "Wizards' and werewolves' abilities are way more powerful."

Jack leaned forward and kissed my temple. "There are situations when you can't use your powers."

"Such as?"

"In pregnancy, for example. Too much energy may harm the baby."

"Oh, I didn't know that. Does it apply to ellidas only or to blaidd benywaidd's in general?"

"Werewolf females are vulnerable during pregnancy," Jack said. "They can't turn, they can't do other things that require an excessive use of energy. Nobody knows for sure how much energy would be safe for you to use. It's like drinking in pregnancy—only zero use of alcohol is absolutely safe. That's why you should be empowered with skills that you can use to protect yourself but don't require the use of our energy. Just in case. Morgaine thinks every ellida should be trained in some human combat disciplines."

"I'm not completely helpless. Remember how I surprised you in my backyard? The neck maneuver I did on you didn't have anything to do with using the energy. It's a human self-defense trick. And it's not the only one I know."

"Who taught you that?"

"Ingmar," I said. "In case I ever needed to protect myself from humans, instead of risking the exposure using my powers."

He rolled his eyes. "Ingmar. Of course."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, come on. You should be grateful to him."

"I am. Really. Now about the _proper_ training. James is going to talk to Hayato Nakamura. He's a martial arts master and swordsmith. A human. He lives in Texas, but he's our _mab-y-clann_ , so he'll be happy to come to Red Cliffs."

"What's mab-y-clann?"

"The literal meaning is 'son of the clan.' Someone who doesn't have blood ties to a certain clan but joins it either as a true or an honorary clansman. Hayato became a mab-y-clann when he married one of our women."

_Mab-y-clann_ , I repeated silently, memorizing the new word. "What if I suck at martial arts? Not everybody has a little Jackie Chan in her."

Jack tapped the tip of my nose. "If you suck—you suck. Then I'll teach you how to shoot a gun or throw knives."

I yawned. "I only like surgical knives. I'd rather try kung-fu."

"That's my girl." He looked at me. "Tired? Wanna go to sleep?"

No, I didn't want to go to sleep, even though my body thought otherwise. I wanted to stay with Jack. "I'm not that tired, but I could eat."

"I'll make us sandwiches and salad."

"Perfect," I said and stood. "I'm going to take a shower. Maybe later we can watch a movie?"

"Sounds like a plan."

I fell asleep before the opening credits were over.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Astrid

I WOKE UP FEVERISH AND even more tired. It was three days before my change and my symptoms were picking up.

I stretched in my bed and forced myself to open my eyes. I could hear Jack in the kitchen. I could smell coffee and pancakes and my stomach rumbled. I was hungry—another sign of my upcoming change. Shapeshifting required lots of energy and I always had an incredible appetite before and after the transformation. I ate in my wolf form too. Raw meat. I apparently liked it, but I didn't remember that part, so I took Liv's word for it.

My hand reached for the black leather jacket I'd seized from its owner days ago, and I buried my head in it. Although milder, Jack's scent was still there. I breathed it in deeply and for a moment entertained the idea of asking him to wear it for a while and then give it back to me.

"YOU OKAY THERE? YOU'VE BEEN awake for at least half an hour." Jack's voice came from the kitchen. My hearing had improved since he'd arrived.

"I'm fine," I said quietly, certain he could hear me as well.

I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, took a shower. My body felt warm and icy at the same time, but the hot shower made me feel better.

With my palm, I wiped off the steam from the mirror and took a look at my reflection. My eyes looked dark, almost steel-grey against my pallid skin, but there were sparks in them, tiny flames that had never resided there before. Little glows of happiness.

I lifted up a thick lock of my hair, studying it. It was lighter than before and more on the reddish side.

I always liked my hair the way it was: thick, silky, in different shades of blond and light brown with a touch of copper. It was wavy, soft and pleasant to touch. To me, it was the most exquisite part of my physical appearance.

I heard many times how my eyes were beautiful, with that brilliant tone of deep blue, or my mouth perfect with its full, equally shaped upper and lower lips. On rare occasions when I purposely studied myself in a mirror, I found my nose, although narrow-bridged and finely shaped, a tad too long, and my chin too square. And there was more: I was perhaps a bit too tall, my breasts could be a size bigger, my hips could be more rounded. These were silly little complaints, small vanities no woman was immune to. I was happy with my strong and healthy body.

I dressed in my old jeans and apricot angora sweater, trying to mask my paleness with its cheery color, then followed the tantalizing aroma of sausages, eggs, maple syrup and blueberries.

JACK SAT AT THE KITCHEN table, with the laptop in front of him. As I entered, he closed the lid and gave me an inquiring look. He stood up and came closer, placing his hands gently and cautiously on my shoulders.

"You look pale. How are you feeling?" he said in a soft voice and pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. "Your skin is hot to the touch."

I put my head on his chest. "It's one of the symptoms of my change. Speaking of that, don't be alarmed. No matter how terrible it may look, nothing bad happens. There is no damage. I'm not sure how long it'd be safe for me to carry on with these uncontrollable transformations, but it won't hurt me to do it a few more times."

"It'll stop soon."

I sighed. I hoped it would.

WE SPENT THE MORNING PACKING boxes—my books, my CDs, my sumi-e paintings, my pink Tiffany lamp, the beautiful Waterford pink crystal vase. Alec Falconer, the brother of the sibling duo who used to watch over me, would come later that week with a pickup truck and take the boxes to Red Cliffs. I myself would travel light, with only two small suitcases.

Packing made me feel even more miserable.

Another place to leave. I still missed Seattle, now I'd miss Rosenthal, too. My tidy little house with its carefully chosen furniture and sliding doors. My _uguisubari,_ the nightingale floor that was a miniature replica of the famous floor in Nijo Castle in Kyoto. Liv, Tristan and I had had such fun making it. My job, my fellow Rosenthalers.

"It's a lot to miss," I whispered to myself, as the magnitude of the change that I was about to make struck me hard: Red Cliffs, my relatives, new people that I would live among.

Jack lowered a box he was carrying to the floor and took me in his arms.

"I don't know anyone in Red Cliffs except you," I said, fighting tears, fighting yet another small crisis.

"It's going to be okay. You won't be alone." Jack ran his knuckles along my face. "You can live with James and Eve. Maggie will come soon for spring break and Eamon won't let you be alone even if you want it. Or you can move to your house. I might go here and there, but I won't stay away long. It's only for the next two months. If I need to go somewhere, it would be only for a day or two. I promise."

"I don't want to sell this house," I said. "Not that I'll need it, but still. I'm not ready."

"That's okay, baby. No rush."

"About my car—"

Jack hooked his finger under my chin and tipped my head. "You'll need something more appropriate for Red Cliffs' conditions."

A new place, new people, a new car. A new life. I sighed. "And there goes my dream of driving a red sports cabriolet."

Jack's phone went off. He took it out from his back pocket and glanced at the display.

"Your uncle. Do you want to talk to him?"

I blew out a puff of air. "After you finish."

He nodded and pressed the call button.

I continued with packing while Jack and my uncle discussed the details of our upcoming trip.

"Someone wants to hear from you," Jack said after several minutes and passed me the phone.

My heart pounded fast as I greeted the closest relative from my father's side.

"Hello, sweetheart." My uncle's deep voice was thick with emotion. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you. How are you, Uncle?"

"Happy now that I know you're coming. God, I can't wait to see you, child."

I swallowed a big lump that tightened my throat. "I'm looking forward to seeing you, too. How is, er, Aunt Eve?"

"Good, good. She's eager to meet you. Is that son of mine treating you well?"

"Well, I have a couple of complaints." I chuckled, sounding more at ease than I was. "I've been chased out of my kitchen, and he can be quite bossy from time to time."

I heard him laughing. "Jack said you're making a detour to Seattle. Say hello to Ella and Gottfried. Take care, sweetheart."

"See you soon, Uncle. Say hello to everybody."

I disconnected and let out a deep breath. "That was easier than I thought."

"You made your uncle very happy," Jack said and kissed me.

"I'm happy, too." My uncle, my blood, did love me indeed. For the first time in my life, I truly felt like a Mohegan.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jack

WE TOOK OFF AROUND TEN o'clock the next morning.

I'd rented a truck the day before, stuffed it with food, water, our clothes and extra blankets. All the way to the cabin Astrid dozed, head pressed against the windowpane. She was in discomfort—she wouldn't admit pain—and her body temperature was high.

We met Liv and Tristan at the cabin. They'd checked the area and hadn't found anything suspicious.

"Are you sure you don't want us with you?" Liv asked for the tenth time.

"Liv, please. Stop fussing," Astrid said, frustrated. "You know I don't like an audience." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm tired. Can we go now, Jack? You two, relax. Take a day off. I'll be fine."

Livia tried one more time. "Jack, I still think we should go with you."

Astrid moaned softly and shook her head.

I would've preferred them to stay, but the cabin was really small. I knew how fiercely Astrid guarded her privacy during the change, so I gave in. Everything would be fine. Livia was just overprotective and Astrid was edgy, tense and in pain, I told myself, ignoring my own unsettled thoughts and the knot in my stomach.

ONCE WE WERE ALONE, ASTRID took a quick shower in the bathroom, changed into her robe and took a position in the corner of a big couch across from the window. She drifted in and out of sleep. Her skin was burning, her breathing was raspy and shallow and her eyes dark. She ate a lot, however, and would feel better right after feeding.

She was pretty much the same until Sunday morning. I was close to her all the time, yet there was nothing I could do to make her feel better. I held her hot hands and I let her lean against me. She was quiet and would only ask for a glass of water or more food.

I thought my heart would break looking at her so vulnerable. I could feel her pain every time she shut her eyes and clenched her teeth. Still, she didn't complain. Every time the pain passed, she would give me a little smile and squeeze my hand.

I understood why she didn't want witnesses to her weakness. She was helpless and she hated it.

As she was getting close to the transformation, the pain seemed to ease and she became more alert. On Sunday afternoon she brought herself up into a sitting position. She was still as hot as an oven, but her breathing was easier, her heartbeat strong, and her eyes—light amber—were sharp and focused.

"Now this is better," she said in a throaty voice.

Wow! Astrid under new management.

I'd seen quick glimpses of her blaidd benywaidd before, but always in the background. Now, even though Astrid was still in her human form, her wolf was in charge.

"Sit here, Jack," she said and patted the spot beside her. "I promise I'll behave."

She nestled herself beside me and took my hand. She lifted her clear amber eyes to mine. "I'll have occasional spells of sharp pain. It will intensify toward the end, but don't worry. It's not unbearable."

"Where is, er, Miss Spock?" I asked, interested to see if this amber-eyed lady knew who Miss Spock was.

She did. "Resting," she said. "This is too much for her, but you know what, that's her fault. She's been fighting the change so fiercely and for such a long time that she's made it worse than it should be. She drives me crazy sometimes."

Fascinated, I listened to Astrid the blaidd benywaidd talking about herself when her dynes was dominant. She looked different, and not only because her eyes had changed color. Her movements were brisker, her voice deeper, her hair more reddish.

I seized the opportunity to learn more about both of her parts. "Is she going to remember anything this time? Why doesn't she have memories?"

"She pushes them back. She's never been happy with me." She sounded hurt, but then added, more cheerfully, "Until you came. Now she's okay with it."

"Really?"

"Really. She's in love with you, but sometimes she's too much of a chicken to show it. She always looks for reason and logic." Astrid rolled her amber eyes, the same way she had rolled her blue ones so many times before. "She's so boring sometimes. But she is a good girl, and a terrific doctor, I'll give her that."

I didn't think Astrid was a chicken but didn't want to argue with her blaidd benywaidd. "It's good you're not so shy."

"Thank heavens I'm not!"

Astrid moved closer until she was almost sitting on my lap. She clasped her hands behind my neck and buried her nose in the hollow of its base. God, she felt so good.

I sighed and unlocked her hands. "Tell me something."

My attempt to change the subject failed. She hadn't finished yet. "You know, I'm in love with you, too. And I have no problem with that. Never have— Ouch!"

She stiffened as pain ran across her face. I held her until she relaxed since it was all I could do.

"I'm okay now," she said quietly.

"You must let her take over sooner or later, you know that, love?"

"I know. I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be a part of her." She lifted her head and gave me an accusing look. "When you finally decide we can make love, you are going to deal with me, you know that? You'll need to bring me up so that I can link with her. Your wolf has to be close, too."

"Thanks for the hint. How do you know that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know how I know. It's logical. Your wolf has to meet mine."

"Now you sound like Miss Spock."

"When you live with her all your life, logic is your middle name."

"How does it work between you two during the change?" I asked.

She thought for a moment. "Well, the very first change came suddenly. None of us were ready for it. It was terrible. She blacked out. After that, I'd take over when the pain was too much for her to cope with. She isn't unconscious, because she isn't in pain. I am. But she stays in the background, she doesn't communicate with me, so I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. You know, she wanted to be cool with her werewolf half, but no matter what she said, she didn't want to embrace it. In a way, she made herself suffer more than she had to."

I noticed she'd used the past tense. "And now?"

She smiled. "Now she _is_ cool with it. Love has changed her. You did more in a week than I did in three years. She let me in, not much, but the door is ajar. Do you remember the thoughts she kept saying were hers, but not quite? They were mine, of course. Our clever Miss Spock figured that out."

"Will she have memories of this change?"

"It's possible. Bits and pieces, at first, but we need something to trigger them because she habitually suppresses them." She thought for a moment, then smiled. "Do you have a middle name?"

"William. My full name's John William Canagan."

She looked at me. "You've been living in my house, but I didn't know your name. Okay, it will be the trigger. Ask your Miss Spock what your full name is. It may bring up other memories as well."

"You seem to know everything about her and she just senses you?"

She stretched on the couch and laid her head on my lap, too close to my groin. "Yeah, something like that. But once we're linked, she'll know everything I know." She lifted her head. "Including all my naughty little thoughts. You'll like them, too."

I took the opportunity to grab a cushion and shoved it beneath her head. "No sexy talk, baby. Tell me why you're feeling weak once you turn into a blaidd benywaidd."

She scratched her nose. "How do I explain this? In our human form, between two full moons, Miss Spock's in charge. I'm still there, but deep in the background. As the change approaches, the whole situation is shifting: I become stronger and stronger, and she is descending until we switch form. We're not connected; we're two instead of one, and that causes pain and weakness. Neither of our 'sides' can develop our full potential until we unite." She closed her hands behind her head and looked up at me. "Now I have a question. Did you have a girlfriend before you came here? Someone in Red Cliffs perhaps? I don't want any surprises when I get there."

"You mean a steady relationship?"

"You know what I mean. Is there anybody there who I should be worried about?"

"I had a girlfriend, a few years ago."

"What's her name?"

"Peyton. Now we're friends, like you and Ingmar. She's a very nice person. You'll like her."

"Hmm. Miss Spock maybe. I'm jealous and poss—"

Astrid's body stiffened as pain ripped through her. Fine beads of sweat broke on her hairline. I reached for the box of Kleenex sitting on the table, pulled out two pieces and gently wiped off the perspiration from her forehead.

"Oh, it hurts, damn it!" Her hot breath felt like burns on my skin. She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly before she continued. "I'm jealous and possessive, that's what I wanted to say."

"Brave and smart as well."

"A true blaidd benywaidd, and proud of it."

I kissed her hot, sweaty temple and rocked her gently back and forth. She glanced over my shoulder through the window into the soft early night. "Soon," she whispered in a raspy voice and dozed off, free of pain for a short while.

AN HOUR LATER HER EYES flew open. She jerked herself out of my lap.

"Leave now!" she said. "I'm about to change!"

"I'm not leaving!"

"It's coming!" she groaned. "Leave me!"

"The hell I will!"

"Get out, Jack!"

These were the last words I heard. Refusing my help with a jerky motion of her head, she took off her robe. Her breathing was fast and labored, interrupted by painful groans, first soft, then heavier, until they mingled into a single roar as powerful as a coming thunderstorm.

My own transformation was fast, faster than any other werewolf I knew, but it still took a few moments during which I was able to actually see how my bones and skin changed into another form.

I heard a tearing sound coming out of Astrid's body. Speechless and scared to death, I saw how her white body turned first briefly into an undefined bloody mass as if some unknown power had turned her inside out, and the next moment a huge wolf erupted from it.

Stretched across the floor lay the biggest and the most beautiful blaidd benywaidd I'd ever seen.

She lifted her head and looked up at me. _"Hey, Jack."_ I heard her soft voice in my head.

"Hey baby," I muttered, mesmerized. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

" _I'm fine. A bit tired."_

I sank to my knees in front of her. I took her head between my hands and buried my head into her soft, reddish fur. She smelled wonderful.

She rested her head between my neck and shoulder, her favorite place. I could hear her heart slowing down to a steady, strong rhythm. Her breathing was deep and regular.

" _I'm okay, don't worry so much. Oh, it is easy to talk to you!"_

"You were wonderful. I love you, baby."

She nudged my chin with her muzzle. _"I love you too, Jack. Tell me about me. There is no mirror here. I'd never wanted to see myself before."_

"You are a magnificent blaidd benywaidd. You are huge, about my size, and I am a big blaidd."

" _Huge, huh?"_

"Among werewolves, size matters," I said stroking her fur gently. "Bigger blaidds are stronger, more powerful. Alphas are usually the biggest blaidds in a pack. You are an alpha female, love, like it or not."

" _Oh, I think I might like it, after all."_

"See your fur? It's almost the same color as your hair, only more reddish."

" _My eyes?"_

"Golden. They're beautiful, baby."

" _You really like me, then?"_

"Do I ever!"

" _Can we go to the living room?"_

"Are you okay walking?"

" _I think I am."_

She stood up, her shaky legs quickly firming up.

Not until she firmly stood on the floor was I able to grasp the whole magnitude of her size and beauty. She reached above my waist. Her body was long and strong, with a firm back and sturdy legs, and more than twice her human weight. She walked with natural predatory elegance, holding her head straight and ears erect and forward. She held her tail vertical and slightly curved toward her back. Her body, unmistakably female, revealed dominance. No doubt there.

Before I reached the door, she'd lifted herself on her back legs and grabbed the knob with her front paws. She opened the door on the first try and headed toward the living room.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, assessing her carefully. She looked weary, but not hurt.

" _No. Just thirsty."_

I poured water into a bowl and placed it in front of her. She drank and then, with a very feminine movement, cleaned her muzzle on her front leg.

"Astrid, I'm going to change, too. Would you like to watch?" I said.

The golden eyes looked at me for a few moments. _"Yes."_

I started removing my clothes. Astrid tilted her head and fixed her gaze on me. _"Now I'll finally see you naked, and I won't remember a thing. Bummer."_

"I see your sense of humor didn't stay trapped somewhere there with Miss Spock."

She chuckled as she watched me taking off my underwear. A smile lingering in her eyes traveled to her lips. She bared her long, white teeth in a semblance of a smile. _"Beautiful."_

My change was longer and far less dramatic. It felt rather like a mild growing pain. It tickled more than it hurt.

"Sorry to spoil your fun, Astrid."

I always transformed from the bottom up, ending with my hands, fingers and head. That kept me in an upright position until the moment I could easily lower myself onto my front legs.

I glanced at Astrid. Her eyes were wide open and filled with love.

And mirth. She tilted her head to the other side, still assessing me. _"Generally speaking, we can do it as wolves, can't we?"_

I laughed. _"Have sex? Providing we are both in wolf form, yes, we can do it. Just for fun, though. We don't reproduce in wolf form. Wanna go outside? There's a little pond near here. Let's go there. You can see your reflection on the surface."_

We walked out side by side, shoulder to shoulder. I was right: she was almost as big as I was. I'd never seen another female werewolf so big, not even close. Her werewolf power was proportional to her physical size, and that meant it was also enormous.

I liked to run in my wolf form and sometimes transformed just to do that. But tonight, I was happy to have a stroll through the woods with my girlfriend. It was our first date.

" _I feel better than ever before,"_ she said as we walked. _"I have much more_ _energy."_ She turned to me, baring her teeth _. "You understand I'm trying to give you a smile, don't you? You are the main reason that Astrid stopped fighting me, her blaidd benywaidd. She's been prejudiced, and she's ashamed of that."_

" _Don't be silly. That's an order,"_ I said, smiling, unable to take my eyes off her.

I heard her earthy, deep laugh. _"You can't order me, Jack. But you can always politely ask me, and I'll consider everything you say."_

" _Well, technically I can. Alpha males outrank alpha females. I've already explained that,"_ I said, anticipating her reply.

" _I'm the ellida. I outrank everyone!"_

" _You are also my mate, which means I'm the boss. Technically."_

" _If that's what you want. So, you won't ask me to play reverse roles, ever?"_

" _Oh, here we are again, more naughty thoughts. May I ask something personal? When did you have sex the last time?"_

" _You may not! None of your business, that's all I'm going to say_." She giggled. _"Jack, when I flip-flop back, please tell me what we were talking about tonight, just in case I don't remember a thing. I'm enjoying it so much."_

" _You won't believe it when I tell you how horny you are, but I'll do my best."_

WE STOPPED BY THE POND. The night was quiet, with a tiny breeze that rustled the tips of the pines and spruces. The sky was cloudless, and the moon shone bright, a round silver swell on the sparkling ink blue horizon.

Astrid turned to me and locked her dark eyes with mine. _"Jack, what do you see in my eyes?"_

I looked deeply into her two dark pools, losing myself in them _. "I see myself, love."_

" _That's the right answer,"_ she whispered and turned her head toward the smooth, watery mirror. For a long while, she stared into her reflection, tilting her head occasionally from side to side, to catch a better glimpse.

" _I am pretty,"_ she said quietly, and then I heard a soft chuckle. _"Even my nose doesn't seem too long anymore."_

We sat beside the pond, on the soft, rustling, dry grass. Soon Astrid fell asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. I breathed in her scent until I was almost dizzy, and then, glancing at the moon above, closed my eyes and ran to find Astrid in my dreams.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jack

ASTRID THOUGHT WE ALL WERE overprotective and she was annoyed.

When I sensed four Tel-Urughs closing in on us, my first reaction was anger. I was angry at her. _"Do you still think we're overprotective?"_ I wanted to yell. Or maybe I did, I couldn't say

Then I became aware of the unbearable, paralyzing fear.

And then the cold rage took over.

SHE SENSED THEM, TOO. WE still couldn't see them, but two of them were coming from behind, and the other two were approaching us from the cabin.

" _Astrid, can you run?"_

" _Not fast enough."_

" _Stay in your wolf form."_

" _As if I can change back before tonight! Jack, they came for me. They need me alive. Let them take me. You run and bring help."_

" _No goddamned way, Astrid! I'm not gonna leave you here!"_

Then we saw them. They looked like ordinary young men in their jeans, wind jackets and sneakers, the two from behind joining the other two in front of us.

"The red dog must be the bitch," said their leader, a tall man with an expressionless face and very light, almost albino hair. "She can't throw her spells in her wolf form, but be careful. She's huge, and we need her alive and unhurt. Which means we need to deal with the other dog first."

I pushed the panic back and concentrated on them. Four Tel-Urughs wouldn't be a problem if I didn't have Astrid with me. She couldn't run fast enough, couldn't hide, and didn't know how to fight.

" _I can fight, Jack,"_ she said, reading my mind. Her voice was calm.

I let out a low, threatening snarl.

"For all your cleverness, you're stupid, _Dr. Duplant_. Did you really think you'd blend among humans so well we wouldn't find you?"

My heart jumped. _"They don't know about Tristan and Liv."_

Astrid smirked. _"It seems so. But then, Liv and Tristan don't know about them, either."_

I wasn't so sure, although I couldn't explain why.

They were coming closer to us. _"Stay behind me,"_ I ordered and put myself between Astrid and the Tel-Urughs.

"Listen, you witch! By the way, what do I call you, witch or bitch?" the leader said, and his soldiers laughed. "Why don't you just come with us, and I promise we won't touch your lover boy. He's free to go."

" _I'm going to rip your heart out before you touch her!"_ I growled.

" _Jack, please don't let anything happen to you!"_

I could hear Astrid's rapid heartbeats. Her voice lost its unnatural calmness that'd been there just a moment ago. She was terrified, not for herself, but for me.

Suddenly, my inner senses caught a faint feeling of Liv and Tristan speeding toward us. Not the scent of them, not the sight of them. I _felt_ them coming. It was like a sixth sense, an arbitrary flicker of foresight I couldn't always rely on, but it had helped me here and there in times of great peril. I knew Liv and Tristan had just left Rosenthal, and with their great speed, they would be here in about ten minutes.

My eyes quickly scanned the enemies. They didn't seem to sense we were soon about to have company.

I continued walking toward them in a slow, steady pace, with Astrid just a half step behind. They stopped advancing, assessing our positions. I turned slightly to Astrid and her head came into my peripheral vision. Astounded, I caught a glimpse of her brilliant blue, wizard eyes.

" _The asanni has joined the team_ ," she said in a light, almost humorous voice that sent shivers down my spine.

Dear God, what was she trying to do?

" _No! Astrid, no. Run toward the forest! You must run!"_

" _Forget it, Jack. I'm not leaving you. Where is their weak point? Where should I aim?"_

" _Astrid, listen! The blond one at the front is the leader; the one on his left is the strongest. I'll go after them. You try to outrun the other two. You can do that. Run now!"_ I was now yelling at the top of my lungs as if the sheer volume of my voice would make her change her mind.

" _No! Where are they weak? Tell me!"_

" _Oh, God! Neck! Break the neck! Watch out for weapons!"_

Then I heard her murmuring something in her wizard's tongue.

" _Jack, jump and roll over me!"_

" _What?!"_

" _Just do it!"_

I knocked her down and we rolled several times, moving away from the Tel-Urughs. They were so surprised by our unexpected movement, they looked almost comic.

When we separated, two identical wolves stood in front of them.

"What? What's that? I told you to grab him first!" the blond Tel-Urugh screeched. "She's a witch! Look what she did! They both look like him! Which one is she? Take them both! Take them both!"

Inside my head, I heard Astrid's soft, calm voice.

" _The hell you will! Moðir Eldær vara hlíf ... Moðir Eldær vara hlíf."_

Every single hair on my body shot upright. I understood enough of Mál, the wizard sacred language, to know what she was murmuring.

The Fire Spell. _Mother Fire, be my shield_.

I'd heard it only once before. Astrid's grandfather had shouted it before he'd sliced through De Burgos's upiri defense like a hot knife through butter, providing us with an opening in the enemy lines. The bloodsuckers could survive many things, but not wizard fire. The battle was over in an hour.

" _Moðir Eldær vara hlíf ..."_ I heard her again.

" _Astrid, no! No!"_

" _It's showtiiiime!"_

Bursting into flames, Astrid charged toward the enemy with head-spinning speed. The two Tel-Urughs on her right stood petrified as a huge, fiery blue-orange ball launched itself toward them.

God Almighty, what was she doing?

I catapulted myself onto the Tel-Urugh I'd assessed to be the strongest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of Astrid's targets dropping to the ground. The other one pulled out a knife and zigzagged toward the woods. Astrid followed him.

My Tel-Urugh and I struggled for a while—he was even more powerful than I expected—but my blood was boiling and it didn't take me long to find his neck. The bones cracked between my jaws. I didn't let go until my teeth tore his head off, just to make sure he wouldn't bounce back. Tel-Urughs were almost indestructible.

I turned around and jumped on the blond leader. He wasn't much of a fighter. He was dead before I broke a sweat.

I lifted my eyes to scan the suddenly quiet battlefield.

Two decapitated, one on the ground in unknown condition. The last one had almost reached the woods, only to be stopped by Liv. She didn't need to fight him physically. The strength of one of the most powerful Tel-Urughs was in her eyes. She looked at him, and the next moment he collapsed soundlessly on the grass, like a rag doll.

" _It's over, Astrid."_

I looked around and stopped dead.

Astrid lay motionless on her side, her red fur covered with blood.

" _Astrid?"_

My heart froze. My brain turned to stone. My lungs stopped breathing.

I'd had several close shaves in my life, yet I had always somehow managed to escape. _Oh, God, tell me you didn't save me then just to kill me today. I won't live without her. I can't. I can't._

Everything stopped. Time. Motion. My heart.

For a moment, I died.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jack

THEN I HEARD THE FAST, fluttery heartbeats and my own heart started pounding again.

By the time I reached Astrid's limp body, Tristan already knelt beside her. He pulled out the knife from her thigh and passed it to Liv.

She sniffed the blade. "Tranquilizer. He didn't want to kill her, just to incapacitate her."

I immediately changed back to human form and crouched down to the motionless Astrid.

"Will she be okay?" I asked. My throat was so parched that my voice didn't sound like mine even to me.

"Of course," Tristan said, continuing with the exam. "She lost some blood but the wound's already healing."

"Why is she unconscious?"

"Sleeping juice, blood loss, the energy she used. That's exhausting. She fought, did she?" Tristan said, smiling. "What a girl!"

I turned to Liv. "Bring me some clothes from the cabin." I lifted Astrid's head and placed it on my lap. "My God, I thought you were... Oh, Astrid, don't do that to me ever again!" I looked up at Tristan. "You sure she's okay? I couldn't hear her heart for a moment."

"Her heart never stopped. You were scared, Jack, that's why you didn't hear it."

Tristan pressed two fingers against Astrid's throat to check her pulse. Satisfied, he probed her stomach then thoroughly inspected her head and neck.

"She used her wizard powers in her wolf form," I said.

"That's fantastic!"

"Fantastic? She cast the Fire Spell, Tristan! Turned into a damn torch in front of my eyes!" "Holy shit! There's only a handful of wizards strong enough to use it."

Liv came back and tossed a pair of jeans and my T-shirt toward me. She'd apparently heard a part of our conversation because she said, "Why are you surprised? It was clear from the beginning she was a powerful asanni."

I hastily put the clothes on and sat down on the ground beside Astrid, waiting for Tristan to finish with the checkup.

"Did you see how big she is?" Tristan said. "She impresses me all over again."

"When is she going to wake up, Tristan?" I asked, kneeling on the ground. I lifted Astrid's head and placed it on my lap.

"Soon, Jack. Relax." He stood up. "No other injuries. I'll check her again when she wakes up."

Liv grabbed the severed head of the white-haired leader and lifted it up. "Tristan, is it him?"

Tristan glanced over it and nodded. "I would say so."

"Him? Who is he?" I asked.

"Franco Lascaris, one of de Burgos's lieutenants," Tristan said. "He was responsible for the worst crimes against civilians. I never met him, but it must be him. There are not many blond Tel-Urughs. He disappeared before the war was over. No one knew what happened to him." Tristan motioned toward the head Liv was still holding. "Now we know."

"Mad Frankie? I've heard of him, of course," I said.

"Well, it's 'Dead Frankie' now," Tristan said. "You killed a very bad Tel-Urugh, Jack."

"The Axeman has been looking for him for decades, for war crimes," Livia said. "I'm not sure if he'll be glad or disappointed to hear Mad Frankie's dead."

"Are you in touch with St. Mère?" I asked.

Armand St. Mère, better known as Armand the Axeman, was a powerful Tel-Urugh and one of the heroes of the war against Salvatore de Burgos. After the war, he'd hunted de Burgos's Tel-Urughs who were responsible for the atrocities and brought them to justice.

"We haven't seen him in ages," Livia said, "but I'll find him. He deserves to hear the news." She walked to the two unconscious bodies and grabbed them by their collars. "You two bring Astrid to the cabin and I'll take care of our prisoners. I'll lock them up in the shed behind the cabin. When they regain consciousness, we'll have a little chat."

I LOWERED ASTRID DOWN ON the bed and sat by her side. Once more, Tristan took her pulse, checked her temperature and then dressed the wound. Fortunately, her strong blood was dealing with it at an impressive speed.

"What happened, Tristan?" I asked. "Why did you turn around and come back?"

"We got a phone call from Copper Ridge," Tristan said. "Our informant said Franco Lascaris showed up at Copper Ridge a few days ago."

"I'm wondering who recognized him. I doubt Seth wanted him to use his real name, or his real look, for that matter."

"Must be someone who was in the war. And who is observant at that," Tristan said.

"What about the others?"

"The other three came a day after him. Our friend kept an eye on them, only to figure out this morning they weren't there anymore. She phoned us right away."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Damn it. They knew Astrid was here. How did they find her? How come they didn't know about you two?"

"I don't have a clue. Liv and I checked the entire area. It was all clear. They weren't here before you two came; Liv would've tracked their scent. Tel-Urughs are good at covering it, but not good enough to fool Liv. There was no werewolf scent either. They knew where to wait for you, though. We only found traces of human scent, which is exactly what we should find; this is their territory. Maybe these two that survived will tell us more."

I stroked Astrid's thick fur, feeling her heartbeat beneath my palm. It was strong and steady.

"Don't hold your breath," I said. "I doubt Lascaris shared the important details with them." I shook my head. "I don't get it. A month ago, they looked for her in the wrong state, and now they've targeted her with such precision as if she'd had a microchip under her skin."

"Yeah, strange."

"That werewolf that works with you? Do you trust him completely?"

"Yes, I do." Tristan's lips tugged into a smile. "Just in case my instincts were wrong, Liv spoke to him. He let her look inside his mind. He's clean. By the way, we brought him with us. He's patrolling the forest right now." He added that they had also asked Ingmar Mortensen and Magda Offenbach, our old friend, to hurry up to Rosenthal. They should arrive from Seattle any moment to keep an eye on Astrid's house. Magda was bringing a couple of her friends with her to monitor the roads to Rosenthal.

"Good thinking. What about Gottfried and Ella?"

"They're in New York. Gottfried has a UN Human Rights Council session."

"We won't tell them anything until they come back."

"What about James?" Tristan asked.

I rubbed my chin. "He has to know. I'll talk to him later. Who called you? The same woman as the last time?"

"The same. Although, I believe Rowena's behind it. Probably from the very beginning."

"I thought that too," I said. "In any case, we'll know soon enough."

Tristan nodded. "I'm going to bring some food for Astrid. She'll be hungry."

TEN MINUTES LATER, ASTRID STIRRED and opened her eyes. They were still blue.

" _Jack?"_ I heard her soft voice.

A big lump swelled in my throat. "Hey, love. I'm here. Everything's fine." I cupped her head between my palms and kissed her warm, soft muzzle. "If you ever pull off something like this again, I'll be the first werewolf to have a heart attack."

She chuckled. _"I fought well, didn't I?"_

"You did. And you ignored my direct orders."

Astrid lifted her head and sniffed the air. _"Tristan and Liv are here."_

"They got a call from Copper Ridge. Liv stopped the last attacker, the one that knifed you."

" _I dropped my fire shield too early. I should've paid more attention to that knife. What about the one I attacked first?"_

"He's alive. A bit charred, though."

" _I couldn't kill him, Jack. He was so scared."_

"Of course. That's okay."

" _The other two?"_

"Dead."

"Do you know who they were?"

"Tristan and Liv recognized one," I said and I told her about Franco Lascaris. "We don't know anything about the other three."

" _Oh."_ Astrid sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a soft, amber gaze met my eyes.

Tristan came in carrying a bowl of water. "Hey, look who's awake!" He put the bowl on the sidebar and stroked Astrid's back. "How are you feeling?"

" _Tired a bit. Thirsty."_

I voiced Astrid's reply and then placed the water bowl in front of her.

Liv burst into the room and rushed to Astrid. "Hey, are you okay? You scared us, you know."

" _What happened? How did they find us?"_

Once again, I translated Astrid's thoughts.

"We don't know," Tristan said. "Our source in Copper Ridge didn't know about Seth's plans until this morning. She phoned as soon as she heard about it."

"We should never have left you," Liv said. "I'm so sorry, Astrid."

"It's my fault, Liv," I said. "I should have let you come with us. God, we even slept outside!"

A tremor shook Astrid's body. She let out a sound equivalent to an angry human sob, saturated with postponed fear. _"Now will you stop whining, all of you! Nothing happened. They wouldn't have hurt me; they needed me alive. I didn't risk anything. You risked your life today, Jack."_

"I'm going to talk to my captives," Liv said. "I won't kill them, don't worry, Astrid," she added, recognizing a warning in Astrid's amber eyes.

When Liv left, I turned to Astrid. "Do you remember anything from this morning?"

" _Right now, I remember everything, which doesn't mean I will remember a thing when I change back."_

"It was a clever move to bring up your asanni. And brave."

" _I needed her for the Fire Spell."_ She laughed softly. _"You know, your Miss Spock is quite smart, but I have the muscles and the brain. It was my idea to bring her up. Now we're allies. Me and my dynes."_

AS I'D PREDICTED, THE TWO Tel-Urughs knew nothing about Franco's plans that had preceded the attack. Franco had called them a few days ago to help him with a simple kidnapping job. Seth's orders were to bring Astrid, unharmed, to Copper Ridge. They knew someone was with her, but they didn't know who I was. Franco had planned to make Astrid surrender in return for my freedom, but then kill me nonetheless.

"It's possible that Franco had been in Copper Ridge longer than a few days," Liv said. "If he had changed his appearance and neutralized his scent, he could've gone anywhere, even to Red Cliffs."

Possible, but not likely. He'd need to stay away from people, otherwise, the absence of scent would give him away. He wouldn't have learned much from his hiding place. "We can only speculate, we don't know what happened. But we will."

Liv threw me a look. "Maybe you have a mole in Red Cliffs. Just saying."

I shook my head. "No way." Only gwerin y blaidd and gwerin lived in Red Cliffs. I knew each and every one of them. Some of them might question Astrid's position because of her mother, her late first change, her refusal to come to live with us. But they would've never betrayed her. Or me, for that matter.

"I'd keep my eyes open nonetheless."

"Did these two tell you anything useful?"

"Not much," Liv said. "Except that more rogue Tel-Urughs and werewolves came to Copper Ridge. We knew that already."

Astrid lifted her head. _"Franco Lascaris didn't know about Tristan and Liv. He didn't know who Jack was. It means that the people who gathered information for him weren't locals. We're dealing with outsiders. Hired thugs. These three he brought with him are outsiders as well, aren't they?"_

"What do you say, Astrid?" Liv asked and looked at me.

I repeated Astrid's words.

"You're right. Who knows how many Seth has," Liv said. "And they're skilled. There aren't many Langaer capable of neutralizing their scents so well that I can't trace it." She turned to me. "Or you, for that matter. You checked Astrid's house and didn't notice anything suspicious—"

She stopped and looked at Astrid. Then back at me. "Oh, dear."

" _Tell her I know."_

"It's okay, Liv. Astrid knows I was in her house."

Liv sighed and shook her head _._ "It's our fault. We shouldn't have let Astrid out of our sights."

Astrid nudged at my thigh. _"We don't know how they found me. We can only guess. Could've been just luck. As for the attack, it's my fault and nobody else's that Tristan and Liv weren't with us."_

I bent my head until my lips touched Astrid's ear. "We'll discuss your stubbornness and lack of obedience as soon as you feel better," I whispered, smiling.

She lifted her head and licked my face. _"I like those sparks in your eyes. You sure know how to distract me, Jack Canagan_. _What sort of disciplinary measures do you have in mind?"_

"You'll see, honey, as soon as your spirits merge."

"What did you say, Astrid?" Liv asked. "It's funny to listen to Jack's part of your conversation only."

"She says don't rile her up again with your irrational sense of guilt," I said. Astrid let out a series of short gnarls that resembled laughter.

"What are you going to do with our hostages, Liv?" Tristan asked.

"I'll show them what would happen if they ever cross me again. I don't want to upset Astrid with more drastic measures."

" _The guy that I fried? Did anybody treat his wounds? Jack, ask her."_

"Liv, Astrid asks if you patched up your prisoners."

Liv rolled her eyes. "Of course I did. If you can't kill them, heal them. Anyway, they said they didn't expect Jack to be so strong. And the nastiest surprise was your pyromaniac exhibition, Astrid. You scared the hell out of them."

" _There was enough violence for one day. Tell Liv that, please Jack."_

"Maybe you're right," Liv said after I had voiced out Astrid's words. She sat down on the other side of the bed and, for a while, silently stroked Astrid's long back.

" _Jack."_ Astrid lifted her head. _"Is it safe to stay here until I shift back?"_

"We're safe, baby, don't worry."

ASTRID CHANGED BACK TO HER human form when the moon popped out on the horizon. This time she didn't ask to be left alone.

She asked me to take her clothes and follow her outside. We walked to the pond, Liv following us at a safe distance.

Once again, Astrid looked into her reflection on the water's surface. Then she lay down, moaning softly. The reverse process was as fast and spectacular as the previous night's transformation. There was the same ripping sound as her big, strong body shifted first into that inside-out bloody matter, dark in the night, and the next moment Astrid's white, naked body shivered on the wet grass.

"Here, baby." I wrapped a blanket around her, pulling her into my lap. "It's over."

She was still breathing in short, shallow gasps.

"How are you?"

"Uh, okay, I suppose." She pressed her head against my chest. "You feel good, Jack. Hold me."

We sat on the grass and let the night embrace us with its hushed sounds and sweet scents.

The soft light of the full moon sliced a silvery path across the water.

Somewhere nearby, invisible and silent, Liv was keeping guard.

I kissed Astrid's lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She paused, looked at me and smiled. "John William Canagan."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Astrid

WE RETURNED TO THE TOWN the following morning. When he heard about the attack, my uncle wanted us to bypass Seattle and come straight to Red Cliffs. I told him I still wanted to go to see my grandparents. He wasn't happy, but agreed, under two conditions: he would send two of his people to escort us to Seattle, and he and Eve would meet us there.

"Well, at least we'll fly home in James's plane," Jack said when I told him.

"He has his own plane?"

"Uh-huh. A five-seater Baron 55."

"Cool."

THE "REINFORCEMENT"—THE TWIN BROTHERS Mark and Sid Brandon—must've left for Rosenthal shortly after Jack had spoken to my uncle because they arrived the next day just before midnight.

Since Alec Falconer would come soon to pick up my stuff, I'd decided to accept Charlotte Fontaine's offer to leave my house keys with her to let Alec in.

She'd showed up the previous day at my farewell party at the hospital. It hadn't surprised me she'd found a way to be invited. The widow of Rosenthal's beloved mayor was a passionate advocate for the preservation of the city's historic downtown, she was also one of the most respected of Rosenthal's citizens, and that opened many doors. I suspected it was Ahmed Demir who'd brought her. The two of them liked discussing history and used to play golf before Mrs. Fontaine's knee surgery.

I didn't understand why she'd come. Yes, at some point she had entertained the idea of introducing me to her son, a biologist working abroad, but that was before Jack had arrived. I didn't know her well, but she hadn't struck me as a snob who sought to associate with the Rosenthal medical crème. Besides, she seemed to like Jack fine.

When I stepped out of the house, she was waiting for me.

"Here's the key," I said and placed it on her palm. "Thank you so much for doing this, Mrs. Fontaine."

"All my friends call me Lottie," she said and hugged me. "I'll see you soon."

"Er, sure," I said, puzzled with her choice of words. I wasn't coming back; she knew that.

"Our paths will cross again. _Rose_."

The knowing tone in her voice. The slight delay before she'd said my Rosenthal name. I looked up at her. She smiled, her youthful blue eyes sparkling.

What was I missing here?

LIV AND TRISTAN DROVE AT the front, behind them were Jack and I in Jack's Audi, and Sid and Mark after us in Sid's Lexus.

My Honda stayed in my garage until I decided what to do with it.

As we passed by the hospital, I told Jack about my touching albeit bizarre farewell with Mrs. Fontaine.

"It crossed my mind she could be one of us," Jack said, "but she isn't. I'm sure of it."

"Her knee healed in record time," I said. "And there's something about her look. She's fifty-nine, according to her medical record, but she looks much younger. I know the sixties are the new forties, but still. She looks as vital as us."

"I'll ask Lily to run a background check on her."

"Lily Falconer?"

"Uh-huh. She's good with computers. If there is something we need to be aware of, Lily will dig it out."

I smiled. "A stalker and a hacker. I'm looking forward to meeting her."

"You'll like her. What do you say about Ahmed? It was a big surprise, wasn't it?"

"You could've knocked me over with a feather."

The incident Jack was referring to had also happened yesterday.

Just before the party was over Ahmed Demir had asked me to come to his office for a moment.

And then he'd dropped a bomb. He told me he was one of us. A lone werewolf. Born as a human, in Smyrna, Turkey, with some wizard blood in his veins. Turned into a werewolf in the early seventeenth century, while left to die on a battlefield. Centuries later, he'd come to America, and finally to Rosenthal twelve years ago.

Tristan and Liv knew about him. Tristan had recognized his scent as soon as he stepped into the hospital for the first time. After talking to Ahmed, Tristan realized the fellow doctor wasn't a threat, but rather an unexpected ally, someone who'd keep an eye on me, and protect me, if necessary.

Jack had also spoken to Ahmed. He instantly liked this blaidd without a clan and offered for him to move to Red Cliffs.

I remember looking at Ahmed, questions buzzing in my mind like a swarm of bees.

As if he knew it, he just shook his head. "I'll tell you when we meet again." He hugged me and kissed my forehead, murmuring a few words in Turkish, his mother tongue.

"AHMED'S OLDER THAN A WEREWOLF should be," I said to Jack. "He looks like he's in his mid-forties. I was so rattled I forgot to ask him about it. Is it because he was turned when he was older?"

"No. This isn't his real look. He was turned when he was about thirty, stopped aging when he was around thirty-four. He made himself look older; he's been in Rosenthal for more than a decade. He has the ability to change his look."

"Everything except his hands."

"Yeah. That's odd. Luckily, ordinary people don't notice such details."

"I did."

He winked. "Luckily, you're not an ordinary human. In any case, I hope he'll decide to come to Red Cliffs."

I glanced at the back seat on which there lay a farewell present from the hospital staff, a sumi-e ink painting, wrapped in rice paper.

According to Tristan, Ahmed had come to Tristan's office last week, asking him to suggest a present for me. Tristan had mentioned I liked Japanese ink painting. The next day Ahmed and Liv had gone to a gallery in Salem and come back with a beautiful sumi-e of a bamboo grove at night.

I smiled. "Our paths will cross again," I said, repeating Mrs. Fontaine's mysterious words.

Soon we left the last of Rosenthal's houses behind.

One chapter of my life had ended. The next one had just begun.

WITH THE BLAKES LEADING THE way, we made the 350-mile trip to Seattle in record time. It was raining cats and dogs when we arrived.

My grandparent's house was outside the city, nestled in the middle of a 30-acre private park, and was hidden from the road and unwanted curiosity behind a wall of oak trees. It was a big, sturdy eight-room dwelling built around the 1900s in the Tudor Revival style.

They all stood in front of the house, rain notwithstanding—Grandpa and Grandma, Uncle James and Aunt Eve. With a squeak of joy, I jumped out of the car, ran toward them and threw myself into my grandfather's outstretched arms.

He hugged me tightly, kissing my forehead and then stepped back to look at me. "We heard what happened. Are you all right?"

Then my grandmother embraced me, looking deep into my eyes. "I'm so relieved you're fine."

"Everything's okay, Gran. Oh, I missed you so much."

And then I turned to the couple standing beside my grandparents.

"Hello, Uncle and Aunt," I said, smiling, and took a small step forward.

The next moment I found myself embraced in my uncle's arms. "Astrid, my child," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "My dear child."

My aunt was waiting for her turn. When James released me, I greeted her.

Eve Mohegan hugged me too, kissing both my cheeks. "I'm happy to meet you, Astrid," she said, her voice soft and warm.

"Me too, Aunt."

Jack had taken after his mother. The soft, amber eyes that looked at me were so like his. They had the same light brown hair, similar facial features—Eve's were soft and feminine, as much as Jack's were sharp and masculine.

Once the greetings were over, the whole group—by that time thoroughly soaked with rain—moved into the house.

SID AND MARK HAD DECIDED to take off for Red Cliffs after lunch. It was a long drive and Mark had to be in town the day after next. Sid would drive his Lexus, and Mark, Jack's Audi.

"I wish I could take my Honda with me," I said as we stood on the porch. Sid honked as he drove away, then Mark, and I waved them goodbye. "Now I have to buy a new car."

"You can drive my Audi. Or better, let me buy you a new car. Something that matches your personality."

"The Honda and I were a perfect match. Easy-going, reliable, loyal."

He pulled me closer, nuzzling my neck. "I'll get you a sexy car, Miss Spock."

"Tell me what car, and I'll consider buying it."

"No. It's awfully expensive. You have a very conservative approach to money; you would've never bought it for yourself. And you'll need a truck, trust me."

"No."

"Yes."

Jack's head dipped, his lips closed over mine in a slow kiss. He ran his hands down my shoulders, over my breasts. My nipples tightened beneath his touch; my skin prickled, hypersensitive, hot; my blood hummed.

"This car conversation isn't over," Jack said, as his fingers moved up, now tracing my collarbone, my neck, my jaw. "I wanna tell you something else."

Oh, I liked the huskiness in his voice. "Mmm .... What?"

"Now that your change is over, we can—"

Whatever we could or could not do would have to wait. My smiling grandmother opened the door. "Come in, you two. Coffee's ready."

"There is a partial solution to our little celibacy problem," Jack said in a calm tone, tugging me inside. "I'll tell you later."

Chapter Thirty

Astrid

THE DINNER WAS ONE OF my grandmother's culinary wonders—chicken in truffle cream sauce with roasted young potatoes and root vegetables. The atmosphere around the dining room table was relaxed.

I was seated between my grandfather and Uncle James.

My uncle was a good-looking man. He had short, dark hair, peppered with grey here and there. His eyes were moss green and his face bold and big-featured, with a prominent nose, high cheekbones, firm lips and energetic chin. Almost as tall as Jack, his frame was more robust: strong head, powerful neck and shoulders, muscular arms and legs. The few extra pounds he carried didn't make him even a bit less attractive. On the contrary, they only seemed to add to his brawny manliness. His dominance was so evident it was almost palpable, and he wore it as naturally as his skin. It was everywhere: in his impressive physique, his voice, his movements, his posture. It was simply _him_. It suited him so well that I wondered if giving up his position and power would be as easy as Jack had said.

I moved my eyes to Jack, sitting across from me. Although not so obviously displayed, Jack's authority was of a different kind. James was like a thunderstorm; Jack was like the steady yet unstoppable force of a mighty river.

James appeared to be in his late thirties, except for the moments when his eyes softened, which happened every time he looked at me. Then he seemed younger than Jack.

He wanted to know everything about me: my life in Rosenthal, my job, my studies, going further and further back into the past. His eyes never left me, as if he couldn't get enough of me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jack talking to his mother, and the Blakes engaged in a conversation with my grandparents.

My uncle told me about the trust fund set up for me when I was a child, and the wealth I'd inherited from my father. I learned I was richer than I thought: I owned the quarter of the Millennium Properties that once had belonged to my father. I swallowed when he told me the current value of my portion.

I looked at Jack. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I told you way more than I should have. I had to leave something for your uncle."

"So, I bought the house in Rosenthal from myself?"

"In theory," my uncle said with a smile. "I put the money right back into your trust."

My father, my uncle, Jack's father and Jack had founded Millennium Properties back in the 1950s. Today it was a profitable medium-sized real estate company with offices at home and abroad.

Jack had taken over his father's part; Uncle James had been managing mine. "For us, the biggest struggle is to contain the business," my uncle said. "Millennium Properties could've been a real estate giant, but that would've brought too much attention to us."

"I don't know anything about the real estate business," I said.

"You don't need to. Jack and I will take care of your part."

Uncle James mentioned my house, too. "It's ready for you, sweetie, but Eve and I hope you'll stay with us for the time being."

The idea wasn't new to me; Jack had hinted at it before. Nonetheless, for a brief moment, I panicked. Could I live in a house full of strangers? My next thought took me by surprise. I could. They were family, not strangers.

I glanced at Jack once more. He would be absent a lot. Even if not, we wouldn't live together "for the time being", as my uncle diplomatically said. "I would like that, Uncle," I said. "We'll have more time to get to know each other."

Jack made a tiny nod. I longed to touch him to feel the warm tide of our connection. Since we'd arrived, we hadn't had lots of opportunities to be alone.

_I miss you,_ I thought.

_I miss you too,_ Jack's expression said.

As if apologizing for interrupting the silent exchange between Jack and me, my uncle cleared his throat and looked at me. "Did Jack mention your training in human fighting disciplines?"

When I confirmed, he said, "Someone's coming to Red Cliffs to train you in martial arts. His name is Takeshi Nakamura."

Jack arched his eyebrows. "I wanted Master Hayato to train her. Takeshi's too young."

My uncle scratched his head. "Well, Takeshi's also a Master. Hayato thinks Takeshi is a better choice. He and Astrid are of similar age."

"Takeshi's barely twenty," Jack said.

"First, Takeshi's twenty-three. Second, I agree with Master Hayato. Astrid will be more comfortable training with Takeshi," my uncle said with a subtle authority noticeable not only in the indisputable tone of his calm voice but in his body language as well—the slight raise of his head, the eye contact, the twist of his torso toward Jack.

Jack clamped his jaw tight and made a jerky nod.

Nobody asked me who I would be more comfortable with.

"We'll see how it works," I said to my uncle. "In the meantime, let's talk about my grandparents."

This brought everyone's attention to me.

"What about us?" my grandmother asked.

"I'll be safe in Red Cliffs," I said, "but what if Seth goes after you two?"

"They are more than welcome to come to Red Cliffs. Whenever they want," my uncle said. "We already talked about it."

I looked back at Ella and Gottfried. "And? Will you come?"

"Eventually, yes," my grandfather said. "We can't leave just like this."

Ah. Interesting. They'd expected me to do that, twice. "And in the meantime?"

"I'll send a few of my men to stay with them," my uncle said.

"It's easier to send someone from Seattle," Jack said.

"That won't be necessary, James. We'll be fine," I heard my grandmother.

"It _is_ necessary, my friend," my uncle said. The firm tone in his voice indicated my grandparents were going to end up with bodyguards one way or another. He looked at Jack, "You're right, son. Talk to the O'Hallorans or the Vangelis."

I caught Livia and Tristan exchanging a look. Then she cleared her voice and said, "Send your people over by all means, but Tristan and I are soon moving back to Seattle. We'll stay close to Gottfried and Ella." She looked at me. "Ingmar will be around, too. You should not worry."

After explaining to my uncle and aunt who Ingmar was, Liv gave me an encouraging smile and said, "A whole new life is waiting for you in Red Cliffs, Astrid. You don't need to add another worry to it. We'll all be fine."

AFTER THAT, THE ATMOSPHERE LOOSENED up. I relaxed and listened to the cheery buzz around the table.

Ella asked Tristan how much longer he and Liv would stay in Rosenthal.

"Not long," he said. "A few weeks."

"I'll miss Rosenthal," Liv said. "Who would've guessed? It didn't look like much when we arrived there a year ago, but all in all, we had a good time there, didn't we, Astrid?"

My heart squeezed. "I loved Rosenthal and its people. I lived there for a year and didn't meet anyone who wasn't nice to me."

"Astrid was the most popular doctor in town," Tristan said to my aunt and uncle.

I laughed at that. "After Dr. Ned Campbell. He alone delivered two-thirds of Rosenthal's babies in the last two decades. I only fixed bones for a year."

As Tristan, Liv and I took turns giving the others a brief and funny account of our year in Rosenthal, I thought about Charlotte Fontaine's words in front of my house and wondered what Lily Falconer would find out about her.

Was it a coincidence that I had chosen to live in Rosenthal? Or had some unknown power directed me there?

I had never been a great believer in destiny; my rational mind had always sought rational explanations. Until two weeks ago.

Charlotte Fontaine was right—I didn't know when and how, but our paths—not only hers and mine, but mine and Rosenthal's as well—would cross again.

Chapter Thirty-One

Astrid

ALL THAT TIME, EVE MOHEGAN listened to us with interest, taking almost no part in the conversation.

And she watched me, attentive to what I said. She was assessing me, making her own conclusions, forming her own opinion.

After all, I was her son's bond mate and Rowena's daughter.

Only I didn't think that the latter bothered her too much. Even the fact that I was an ellida wasn't relevant. The _mother_ in her wanted to make sure I was good enough for her son, if I would make him happy.

She kept a gentle, pleasant smile on her lovely face, but beyond that, her expression was unreadable. When that changed, I would know she was done with her evaluation. I could only hope she would like what she found.

With her deep insight into human nature, Liv also understood Eve's gentle smiles and discreet looks. Without making her intentions obvious, she encouraged my grandparents to tell the little stories of my life, and Tristan to talk about our job. She presented to my werewolf relatives an Astrid she loved and respected: compassionate, gentle, hardworking, emotional.

I was so touched by my friends' support and love that I could have cried.

"ARE YOU TIRED, LOVE?" my grandmother asked me later that evening. She, Grandpa and I sat in our living room. Everyone else had called it a day an hour before to let the three of us have some private time.

I was tired. More emotionally than physically. The last several days had been tough.

"Let me stay a bit longer," I said.

My grandpa came out of the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate in his hand. He passed it to me and sat on the couch beside me. Ella was on my other side. I took a gulp and smiled. It was just the way I loved it: warm, rich and creamy from a splash of heavy cream, fragrant from the tiny amount of vanilla bean paste Grandpa always put in it. It smelled like home, like childhood.

My eyes welled with tears. God, I didn't want to leave again.

My grandpa knew me well. He took my hand. "Now then. Don't cry. We'll think about our next meeting, not about the departure."

I pressed my head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

Although it never sat right with me, I called my grandparents by their first names. A habit developed out of necessity, for the sake of humans. Ella and Gottfried could hardly pass for my parents, let alone grandparents.

But today I could only think about them as Grandma and Grandpa. Some part of me longed to be a small child again, unburdened with my heritage, unaware that these two people weren't my parents.

I'd never felt closer to them than tonight.

Memories washed over me like a tide. Grandpa teaching me how to swim. My first riding lesson with him. _Asyr Bók Galdra, Jjenx um Chauntra_ — _The Great Wizard Book of Spells, Jinx and Chants—_ my grandparents' present for my tenth birthday. Grandpa teaching me the Fire Spell and Grandma showing me how to bend the wind. How to translocate, which only she could do. The chicken soup and fresh lemonade Grandpa would make when I had a cold. Their proud, beaming faces when I graduated from medical school. Chess games with Grandpa, math problems and riddles I'd solved with Grandma to exercise my brain cells, as she'd liked to say.

"Love you so much," I said, letting tears slip down my cheeks.

My grandmother grabbed the cup I was holding, placed it on the table, and took my hand. "It's time to finish what started twenty-five years ago. _You_ have to finish it, Astrid. If not directly, then by being in Red Cliffs."

"It'd be easier if I was prepared for—" I made a vague movement with my arm. "All this."

"I hope one day you'll understand why we had to keep so many secrets. It wasn't our choice."

Yeah, I'd figured that much. "I understand. I really do. Tell me about Mom. She isn't what everyone thinks she is, am I right?"

It wasn't a question. I knew she wasn't. I just needed to hear it from these two people who, to keep me safe, couldn't let me love my mother.

My grandma shook her head. "Not everyone blames her, but I know what you mean. She's a brave, strong woman. Everything she's done was for you. To protect you."

"What happened back then?"

My grandmother told me what I'd already learned from Jack. "She made a mistake. When she wanted to make it right, Seth wouldn't let her leave. We can't tell you much more. Not even Grandpa and I know everything. I'm sorry. When the time—"

"I know. When the time comes, I'll learn. We all will."

Providing we survived the unknown that was waiting for us.

I leaned forward and took another sip of my hot chocolate. "Promise me something," I said, moving my eyes between the two of them. "Stick to Tristan and Livia. And Ingmar."

"I promise." Grandpa tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. "Your grandma and I will do everything to stay safe. We know how much it means to you. And once we come to Red Cliffs, I hope in the summer, we'll stay. Well, until it's over."

"It's gonna be a mess, huh?"

"Seth has to be taken down by force; there is no other way. Your presence in Red Cliffs will help to do it as easily as possible. You hold the power to make things right."

What if my only role was to help take Seth down, no matter the cost. Would I survive? Would Jack? My mother, who was likely Seth's hostage? My friends? How many lives would we lose before we won?

I didn't ask. My grandparents didn't know the answers. Nobody did.

We should prepare for the war the best we could and pray to whoever we believed in to help us win.

And live to tell the story.

IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT WHEN I went to my old room. I didn't bother to undress and just lay across the covers.

I could sense everyone in the house, scattered in different rooms. James and Eve were in the east wing, Jack's room was beside theirs. The Blakes were on the west side, with me. Had anybody released them from their bodyguard duty? At least for the next two weeks, until they moved back to Seattle to protect my grandparents.

My sharpened senses detected the faint traces of my own scent from long ago, lingering in the room of my childhood and youth. I opened the window and peeked outside, into the familiar landscape. The oak tree now reached almost to the roof. I remembered it being much smaller when I was a child.

The night was cool and quiet. I closed my eyes and found a special place in my memory to treasure this moment: almost everyone I loved slept safe and sound under this roof. Only my mother was missing. Was she awake? Was she scared? Was she thinking of me as I was thinking of her?

And then, it wasn't only her.

Ingmar, my best friend.

Ahmed Demir, the mysterious blaidd I felt such a strong, unexplained connection to.

Even Charlotte Fontaine, who was, I felt, some kind of bridge between two worlds—one that I was about to leave, and the other one I was about to enter.

One hidden within the other, both mine.

NOT EVERYONE WAS SLEEPING. I heard a soft knock on the door.

Jack.

I sprang from the bed and opened the door. Jack stepped in and pulled me into his arms. "Kiss me, Astrid," he murmured against my lips.

I met him halfway. His tongue slipped inside without resistance, exploring. His hands moved to my back, rubbing it softly. I buried my fingers in his hair and pressed my body against his.

"I've never touched your breasts," Jack whispered over the kiss. "I saw you naked when you changed, but I didn't touch you."

"Are you sure it's okay? Won't this leave your scent on me and vice versa?"

"As long as we don't go to the end."

"And you're telling me that now. We were alone in my house for weeks."

His hand cupped my breast, squeezing it gently. "I thought you wouldn't sleep with someone you just met."

Ripples of pleasure spread through my body, sweet ache tugging in my abdomen, tightening around my core. Longing, deep, primal longing to be one with this man, to take his body inside mine, even stronger because I knew it wasn't going to happen. Not tonight.

"That applied to week one."

"Week two you were too close to the change." Jack's other hand soon joined the first. "I can't believe I thought they were small."

"But they _are_ on the small side."

Jack's breath left a hot trail on the sensitive skin behind my ear. "They are perfect. The size of my hand. God, you feel so good."

I moaned as I slid my hands under his shirt. His skin was warm, his muscles hard.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it off.

The sight of his broad, sculpted chest took my breath away. He was hairless, save for a line that arrowed down from his navel to the invisible area behind his clothes.

He scooped me up and carried me to bed. "I have to leave my jeans on," he said, lowering me down. He kicked off his sneakers, removed his socks, and stretched beside me.

He closed his hand around my wrist and brought my hand to his lips. His touch, his scent made my head spin. Long suppressed desire coiled in my womb.

He pulled me upright. "I want to kiss you. Everywhere. Let me undress you."

I raised my arms and my sweater came off. Jack kissed me softly, endlessly: my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks. He sucked my lips, moving down to my neck, and coming back, nibbling on my earlobe. I closed my eyes, immersing myself into the deep, head-spinning pleasure.

Jack's fingers found the clasp of my bra. I let out a soft moan as his mouth touched my breast. He planted small, fluttery kisses on its outer curve, moving toward the center. By the time his lips closed around the erect nipple, sucking it tenderly, I was breathing in hard, heavy rasps. Jack's tongue flicked the hard tip, and then released it, ignoring my protests.

He moved to my other breast, repeating the sweet torture.

"Do you like what I'm doing to you, love?" Jack whispered into my ear. "Tell me."

"Mmm."

"I'll take that as a yes." He laughed softly as his lips traveled down to my stomach. His fingers unfastened the button of my jeans, pulling them down to my ankles. I jerked them off. My hands plowed through Jack's hair, holding his head pressed to my abdomen.

"Jack. It's good."

"You're so beautiful, Astrid," he murmured against my skin. "Sometimes I can't believe you're mine."

He caught the narrow strip of my panties between his teeth and tugged them off. "Let's see what we have here." Jack's hand slid between my thighs, his fingers stroking the tender skin of my inner thighs and the hot, wet, swollen flesh between my legs. "So soft and lovely."

And the world exploded into a million stars in front of my closed eyes. The seemingly endless chain of spasms shook my body, leaving me gasping for air.

Slowly, slowly, the crazy spinning slowed down and the world came to a halt. I felt Jack's hand pressed over my mouth.

"Shhh, be quiet. You'll wake up the whole house."

I blinked. Jack moved his hand, only to replace it with his mouth. "I love you, you noisy thing."

It'd be stupid to cry now, I thought, as my eyes welled with tears. I cradled Jack's head between my palms and looked into his eyes. I wanted to say something, anything, I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, but all the words remained stuck somewhere in my throat.

Jack rocked me gently as he kissed my temples, forehead, the crown of my head.

"I feel as if I disintegrated to the last atom and became whole again," I stuttered.

He chuckled. "You suffer from acute sexual deprivation. We'll cure you soon."

Yeah, it'd been a long time. "What about you?" I pulled myself closer to Jack, breathing in the scent of his arousal.

"I'll be fine." He brushed away a lock of hair from my face. "Lie still and don't try to seduce me."

"But it must hurt you."

"I'll take care of that later." He propped himself on his elbow and closed his mouth over mine in a tender, lingering kiss. "I haven't finished with you, Miss Spock."

His husky voice sent a new rush of warmth between my legs. I shivered in anticipation.

Soon I was lost to anything else except the feeling of Jack's hot lips on my skin. He was moving down, unhurriedly, stopping here and there to explore the softness around my belly button, the slope of my mound, the burning skin of my thighs. His fingers parted my folds, caressing them.

I trembled on the brink, a single touch away from another shattering release. Then Jack's lips found my core.

I cried out his name as the rolling waves of sweet, sweet release crashed over me.

I OPENED MY EYES SOMETIME later. We lay spoon-fashion, Jack's arms around me, his head buried in my hair.

The sun was pouring through the half-open blinds. I heard the sound of the awakened household: the rush of water through the pipes, steps, muffled voices. Someone was working in the kitchen.

Jack's eyes cracked open when I wiggled out of his embrace. "Where are you going?"

"To take a shower, and then downstairs," I said quietly. "Are we still going to the city?"

"After breakfast. I need a shower too."

I bent my head and kissed him. "I love you, Jack Canagan," I whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he said, pulled me atop him and kissed me senseless.

"Off you go now," he said, gently slapping my butt. "I'll sneak into my room and take a shower. I'll be down in half an hour

Chapter Thirty-Two

Astrid

JACK'S MOTHER WAS IN THE kitchen, opening the cupboards and the fridge and pulling out the ingredients for breakfast.

She looked pretty in her orange long-sleeved top and white cotton slacks. Her soft, honey-gold hair was twisted in a thick knot and fastened with a vintage pearl clip.

"Good morning." I paused, unsure of how to address her. "Aunt." This seemed safe.

She smiled and solved my dilemma right away. "Oh, call me Eve, please," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. May I help you?"

"Sure. You can make pancakes and I'll fry eggs and sausages." She set a ceramic frying pan on the stove, poured some oil in it and switched the burner on.

The ingredients were already on the counter. I found a mixing bowl and the whisk and set to making the batter.

_Four eggs, two cups flour, one tablespoon sugar, one teaspoon baking powder, half-teaspoon of cinnamon, a sprinkle of salt, one cup milk._ I repeated in my head my Grandma's recipe. The ingredients were standard, only the mixing method was a bit different. Instead of combining everything together, she had taught me to first mix dry ingredients, then add egg yolks, melted butter, milk and cinnamon, and finally fold in beaten egg whites. The result was soft, fluffy pancakes.

I glanced at my future mother-in-law and let out a silent sigh of relief. Her smile, her warmth, the quiet, homey atmosphere in the large kitchen told me I had passed the most challenging test. Eve Mohegan approved her son's choice. After this, winning the heart of the rest of Red Cliffs would be a piece of cake.

"Tell me about Jack," I said, cracking the eggs and separating the egg yolks and egg whites into two bowls. "When he was young."

She beamed. "He was a bright boy. A bit too adventurous and daring for any mother's liking. He had such a rich imagination. He loved pirate stories, and ships were his favorite toys. When he was about five, he and Brian built a treehouse that looked like a ship. He would spend hours and hours up there. His friends would come to play. Jack was the captain of the ship, but he would let the other boys take turns being the captain. He was always considerate and generous. A leader, even then. He protected smaller kids, took responsibility for the mischief he did, stood up for himself and for others." She removed the pan from the burner. "Let me show you his picture."

She dashed toward the living room. A few moments later, she returned with her purse. She opened it and took out a small, thin rectangular box. It resembled an old-fashioned cigarette holder, and it looked like it was made of silver. She unlatched it and gingerly pulled out a photograph. It was a black and white studio image with sepia toning, printed on thick paper. "This is Jack in 1899," she said passing it to me. "He was five. His father took the picture."

The very young and small Jack smiled at me. His hair was combed, his eyes bright. He was dressed in a then-fashionable white sailor suit with a blue—I guessed—collar on and blue stripes around the end of the sleeves. In his hands, so small, so sweet, he held a straw hat.

I gently ran my finger over the picture. My Jack. My chest tightened from the rush of emotion. "He was a beautiful child. Thank you," I said to Eve and sniffed.

She took the photo from my hand, looked at it with great tenderness and carefully put it back in the protective box.

"Jack was in both World Wars," she carried on after a while. "He was twenty-three when the U.S. entered the Great War. He was sent to Europe, along with about a hundred of our men. Mostly blaidds, but there were quite a few humans, too. Brian and your father went as well, to stay close to our boys and make sure they came home alive and in one piece.

"I was terrified, especially for Jack. His aging hadn't stopped yet and he was vulnerable. We are much stronger than humans, even as youth, but we're not indestructible. Werewolves can survive many things humans can't, but not cannonballs and grenades. In our youth, we can easily be slain. And that war was nothing but a horrible slaughterhouse. So many of our kind died then, but miraculously, all of our men returned." Eve's eyes darkened. "And then, two decades later, another war, even worse. Brian, Jack, your father, and many more went again. This time some didn't come back."

"Did they have to go? Were they enlisted?"

Eve returned the frying pan to the burner and tossed the sausages in. "No," she said shaking the pan. "Our men don't need to go. We can easily keep ourselves out of sight. But they usually want to go. Werewolves have plenty of natural aggression, more than humans. Humans use sports and—unfortunately—wars as outlets. We dilute aggression with our transformations and excessive physical activities. And conflicts, our own little wars. In the past, there were endless bloody fights between the clans. It's better now, but we still fight among ourselves. On top of that, we take part in human conflicts."

"I suppose it's difficult not to when we're so tightly connected with them."

"Yes. Our people have a strong sense of justice, even if it doesn't affect us directly."

I combined all the dry ingredients and gave the mixture a few good swirls with the whisk. "Who was the Red Cliffs leader while Brian was away?" I asked.

"Your uncle," Eve said. "He didn't become the einhamir out of the blue. He was the best man to replace Brian." She grabbed a fork and started turning the sausages. They sizzled in the pan, releasing a wonderful aroma.

I poured the egg yolks, milk and butter into the flour mix, stirred it and set it aside, then proceeded to beat the egg whites with a whisk.

"Jack's father was the first Red Cliffs einhamir, wasn't he?"

"No, he was the second one. Brian and I came to Red Cliffs from Europe in 1857. Five years later our first einhamir, Greg Burton, decided to retire and move back to the old country. Brian was elected as his successor, then James after him. And now it's Jack's turn."

I was grateful for this undisturbed time with Eve. She helped me to start seeing a complete picture of the man I'd met and fallen in love with. As Eve's story continued, I started connecting my beloved Jack with a a young soldier in two bloody wars, a smart, sharp mechanical engineer boy in a treehouse, in the 1950s, a marine biologist in the 1970s, a successful businessman and a man whose last job was special missions.

"Did he go to Vietnam?"

"No," Eve said and, grabbing the handle of the pan, gave the sausages another quick shake. "When he came back in 1945, he swore it was the last human war he'd take part in. Besides, like many of us, he strongly opposed the Vietnam War. Nobody from Red Cliffs went to Vietnam. Not only did they not want to, but Brian made it impossible. After World War II, when so many of our people died, he initiated a law that nobody could take part in any human conflict without the einhamir's permission.

"There are other conflicts, aside from humans', like the war between the outcast Tel-Urughs and the others." She paused and glanced at me. "You've heard about it, haven't you?" When I confirmed, she continued. "That's a different matter; that conflict could've spread through our entire realm and affected everyone. The Usurper wouldn't stop at Tel-Urughs. The next would've been gwerin y blaidd. Or asyngaer. Then finally humans. That's why we helped the Tel-Urughs to stop him." She craned her neck and peeked into my bowl. "Look good." She opened the freezer and took out a bag of frozen blueberries. "Here, put some into that batter, she said, passing the bag to me. "Now that we have you, there will be more stability and balance."

I swallowed. "But before that, there is going to be more conflict," I said.

"That's why your presence is a blessing. Now we can get rid of him." She turned, took a plate and transferred the meat onto it. "Pass me the eggs, please."

While Eve was frying eggs, I finished my pancake batter by gently folding the egg whites into the lumpy flour mixture. By the time Eve's fried eggs were done, I was ready to do the pancakes.

From the rack hanging above the counter, I took a pancake pan with five round indentations. "Uncle James thinks there could be some resistance because of my mother," I said after a short silence.

"There are some in Red Cliffs who'd still hold a grudge against her, even though they weren't directly hurt or didn't lose anyone. But you _are_ our ellida; no one questions that."

"It's only that they question how I could become one, given who my mother was."

"Yes, something like that. That's why it's important to let them know you before you officially become the ellida."

"What do _you_ believe? About my mother?" I asked. It wasn't fair to put Eve in this position. But I had to know.

A few moments passed before Eve answered. "There were times I hated her. I did. But it didn't bring Brian back. I'm at peace with everything that happened back then. I don't hate your mother. I don't even hate Seth anymore. He's too dangerous and he has to be stopped, that's it. Your mother made some wrong decisions, and they affected many people, but not deliberately. She didn't mean to hurt anyone. Making bad decisions is not a crime."

"Did you know her well?"

"Rowena and I weren't close. Didn't have time to become close. But I liked her and I knew her well enough to know she didn't want anybody dead. Besides, nobody knows what exactly happened, and before we know, nobody has the right to accuse her of anything."

"Will we ever know?"

Eve shrugged. "Ellida Morgaine knows everything, but she isn't sharing. Why? Who knows, but I guess she must have a good reason. Your mother must also know a great deal. Seth knows—he knows why he ordered Brian and Hal's deaths. My ex-in-laws also know more than they tell; your grandparents, too. Lots of secrets and speculation, lots of unanswered questions, yet some were quick to blame your mother for everything. She's innocent. A victim, like Brian and Hal. Only she survived, and they didn't."

"My uncle? What does he believe?"

"James has never gotten over Hal's death," she said softly. "It's an open wound. They meant the world to each other."

My paternal grandparents had died long before I was born. My father was a boy. Uncle James, who was more than a decade older, raised him. My father was Uncle James's only family for a long time.

"Maybe because for some people it's impossible to get over." I said.

"Your uncle is as determined and unswerving in his grief as he is in everything else he does. I think he believes he'd betray Hal if he got over his death. It doesn't help that we don't know the truth. There was no closure, and it's eating him alive. Perhaps now that you're here, he'll be able to let his sorrow go."

A big lump stuck in my throat and tears spilled down my face.

Eve rounded the island, came close to me and kissed my forehead. "Rowena's name will be cleared soon, I'm sure of that. As for your uncle, you can help him heal. He adores you. You saw his smile when you said you'd stay with us. He'll dote on you. Let him, he needs it."

I brushed the tears away. "Of course I will."

"He bought you a pickup truck, it's waiting for you back home. Just so you know."

"A pickup truck? For me?"

"Uh-huh. Dark blue. You're going to live in the mountains of Colorado, you have to have a truck. Accept it, please, and don't tell him I told you. Now, go and flip those pancakes, they're going to burn."

Not knowing what to do with Eve's astonishing heads-up, I decided to do nothing and turned my attention to the flat top.

I heard steps, a familiar long stride, and Jack entered the kitchen. "Good morning, ladies," he said and kissed his mother's cheek, then turned to me and took the spatula from my hands. "Hey, baby." He lifted my arms, locked them around his neck and kissed me. Then he turned me back and closed his arms around me from behind. "Smells wonderful," he whispered into my hair.

"Pancakes or me?" I whispered back.

He nuzzled on my earlobe. "What do you think?"

SOON WE ALL GATHERED IN my grandparents' big, cozy kitchen that sported an old walnut table and six matching chairs.

I couldn't help but wonder when we all would breakfast together again.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Astrid

AFTER BREAKFAST, THE BLAKES, JACK and I drove to my condo in Downtown Seattle, which I'd bought only months before my unexpected move to Rosenthal. I wanted to pack some clothes and personal items and have them sent to Red Cliffs.

Tristan and Liv stayed in a nearby café, with a clear view of the building entrance. They were close enough for their senses to notice anything unusual, although I didn't expect any more of Seth's tricks for the time being. He had to deal with his last failure first, and unless he had a whole bunch of ready-to-use plans on how to get me, he wouldn't risk another ill-prepared attack. That wouldn't make sense even for the delusional Copper Ridge einhamir _._

Nonetheless, Jack went in first, keeping me behind his back. We walked into the living room and he looked around. "A cool place," he said.

"Did I buy this condo from Millennium Properties as well?" I asked. In other words, from myself, at least partially.

"No, not this condo. What do you plan to do with it?"

I shrugged. It was a huge three-bedroom penthouse with a semicircular glass wall that enclosed half of the living room area, a gorgeous place I'd left in haste, before I'd had a chance to unpack all the boxes. "I have no particular attachment to this place. Not even memories. It was a place where I slept between two shifts. I'll sell it, I guess."

"The prices are low now," he said. "Why don't you rent it instead? When the prices go up, you can sell it. It's a prime property." He motioned toward the fireplace. "Do you mind if I light it?"

"Go ahead."

I found an unopened jar of Nescafé and showed it to Jack. He nodded.

We spent the next hour going through the boxes and closets. I found enough warm clothing to save me from a quick shopping expedition I'd planned for the afternoon.

When we finished, two stacks of cardboard boxes stood in the entryway. The small one we'd take with us; the rest would wait for Alec or someone else to take it to Red Cliffs.

I washed the coffee cups, dried them and put them back in the cupboard. Once more I checked the wardrobe, my dresser and shoe racks. In the bathroom, I found my peach-colored bathrobe and I decided to take it with me.

"Let's go. Liv and Tristan must be—" I stopped as I entered the living room.

Jack sat on the thick duvet cover in front of the fireplace, surrounded by every single pillow and cushion I had in the apartment.

"Liv and Tristan will be fine." He patted the nearest cushion. "Come here."

Jack took my hand and pulled me down beside him. "Let's make some nice memories of this place," he whispered on my lips.

The contrast between his soft mouth and hard, rough, demanding tongue sent me on a wild ride. My trembling, impatient fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt, but I was so clumsy I soon gave up and reached for his chest under the shirt. Jack was far more successful with my garments, proceeding steadily through the sweater and jeans, and then unbuttoning his own shirt.

I knew I was going too fast again, but I couldn't help it. I knew it was going to be another little torture for Jack, but I couldn't help that either.

He lowered me onto the pillows and stretched out beside me.

He gently lifted my chin, savoring my face with his amber gaze. He kissed my eyes, every inch of my face, my neck and shoulders. His mouth moved to my breasts, still trapped in the white lace bra. He played with my nipples through the crisp fabric, until the incredible mixture of his lips, tongue, teeth and lace became unbearable.

The pressure inside me built fast, and when I thought I couldn't bear it anymore, a slight touch of his hand on my sex brought me to a powerful release.

When the last waves of pleasure subsided, I lay my head on his shoulder, running my fingers across his chest. "Our wolves find each other very attractive. I think."

Jack's fingers gently moved along my upper arm. "The night before you transformed, your wolf told me she was in love with me. It sounded as if she had never been in love before. My chest almost burst with emotion. I thought about that later and realized—it's true. _She'd_ never loved anyone before. She couldn't take part in your previous relationships. I'm your first werewolf boyfriend, but for her, I'm her first boyfriend ever. Nobody else had courted her before. Nobody made love to her, nobody kissed her, touched her. Nobody loved her until I came. It makes me feel damn good."

"No wonder she's crazy about you." I smiled. "As much as I am."

Jack's fingers gently plowed through my hair. "You're my blessing, Astrid. I've never loved anybody as I love you. So absolutely, so completely, so deeply that it hurts sometimes. You are not only my bond mate, you are my benediction, the best thing that ever happened to me. You know, sex has always been an important part of my life, but you brought a whole new dimension to it. It's love, I suppose. Love is the most potent aphrodisiac. I just know I've never wanted anybody more than I want you. That's why it's so difficult to be so close to you yet be unable to make love to you, completely, with everything that I can give you." He tucked his forefinger beneath my chin and leaned forward to kiss me. "On the other hand, I know I _can_ wait, as long as it takes. Because you are worth waiting for."

"This is the most beautiful confession of love," I said, choking over my words. My fingers reached up, stroking that handsome, masculine face, softened with emotion and the power of love. He closed his eyes, and I pulled myself to my knees and kissed his eyelids, his cheekbones, his nose, his chin.

And in no time, we were both laying back on the pillows, and the outside world ceased to exist.

"MMM, TASTY," JACK MUTTERED SOMETIME later, nibbling on my earlobe. "Sweet and soft, like caramel toffees, only better."

I blinked several times and yawned. "Did I fall asleep?"

"For a bit."

I stretched, feeling Jack's solid body over mine, and his hard arousal pressing against my lower abdomen through his jeans. "I wish we could stay here forever," I whispered, longing coiling in my core.

Bracing himself on his elbow, he cupped my chin with his other hand and lowered his head. "Promise me something," he murmured against my mouth.

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I will now promise you anything."

"It's simple. Once you move in with me, you get rid of all your nightwear. No more nightgowns, pajamas, sleeping shirts. No underwear. Red nail polish on your toes only. Okay?"

I giggled. "You got yourself a deal, Jack Canagan."

He kissed me. "Now go take a shower. We still have one place to visit."

"Where are we going?"

"To see Magda Offenbach. I want to give you a present. Don't ask more, it's a kind of surprise."

"Magda? Your friend who came to Rosenthal after the attack to keep an eye on my house?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful! I didn't see her then; I want to thank her." I gave him an inquiring look. "What kind of present?"

"You'll see."

Chapter Thirty-Four

Astrid

JACK TOLD TRISTAN WE WERE going to _Blue Moon_. Tristan nodded, and Liv issued an _ah_ , _of_ _course_ , and gave Jack an approving smile.

Liv was in the passenger seat, Jack and I in the back. She turned to me. "Have you decided what you are going to do with the condo, Astrid?"

"I'll put it up for rent."

"Why don't you sell it?" Tristan said. "You've never liked that place."

"I like it now."

Liv moved her eyes between Jack and me. "And I wondered what took you so long."

A few minutes later, Tristan parked in front of a small store with a sign above the door that read _Blue Moon_ , and under that, in smaller print, _Custom Jewelry and Fine Crafts_ , with the name of the owner at the bottom: _Magdalene Offenbach_.

The old-fashioned bell above the glass door announced our arrival, and a moment later, a pretty brunette, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, entered the store from the back room.

"Jack!" Grinning, she hugged Jack and completed her friendly greeting with a hearty smack on his cheek. She turned to the Blakes, "Tristan, Liv. It's good to see you again."

More cheers, hugs and friendly kisses.

Jack took my hand and turned to the store owner. "Magda, this is Astrid, Hal and Rowena's daughter."

Magda bowed. "Ellida. I'm honored."

I reached for her hands and smiled. "I'm glad to meet you, Magda. I want to thank you for coming to Rosenthal on such short notice and keeping an eye on my house. And please call me Astrid."

"You're welcome. Of course, I came." Magda swallowed. "My God _._ Our ellida. I wanted to stay and meet you but unfortunately, I had to leave as soon as I heard you were safe."

"Magda's our old friend," Jack said. "We fought together against Salvatore de Burgos. She used to live in Red Cliffs."

"I still have a small ranch house outside the town. A cottage rather. I come every year, for a week or two. I have relatives and friends there. It's home." She smiled. "But I like my little store as well. I'm a goldsmith, you know."

"A very special goldsmith," Jack said. "One of very few who make protective jewelry."

I'd heard about it. My grandmother had once mentioned that the werewolf goldsmiths knew how to forge magic into metal. The objects they created had the power to protect their owners.

Or, in the case of black magic, to do harm to others.

"I'll soon be making vintage toys, as well," Magda said. "From the nineteenth and early twentieth century. They were so beautiful. Now," she clapped her hands and looked at Jack, "I guess you want an _anrheg_ for, er, Astrid. For the Ellida."

"What does anrheg mean?" I asked.

"It means 'gift' in our old language," Magda said, "but it's more like a talisman. We call it a gift because it must be given. You can't buy it for yourself." She lifted one finger. "Give me a second."

She disappeared briefly into the room behind the counter and came back with a rectangular wooden box. She opened the lid, revealing several neat rows of silver pendants shaped like wolf heads and pressed onto a black velvet lining.

"They are made of silver-platinum alloy," Magda said. "Every pendant is unique. Take a look."

I saw it right away: the first row, third from left. It was oval-shaped and roughly one inch long. The back was flat and smooth, but the wolf head on the front was three-dimensional and _en face._ It was a she-wolf, and a happy one. Her eyes, somewhat slanted, the erect ears and the small loop for the chain were inlaid with deep green jadeite. A mischievous smile that lurked in her eyes was caught on her muzzle, slightly open and curved at its corners into a very _human_ smile. Her front paws were tucked under her chin.

Next to this pendant, there was another one in the box, almost the same, save for the lapis lazuli inlay.

"This one," I said and pointed at the pendant with the green inlay.

"You sure? Not the one with lapis lazuli?" Jack asked. "It'd match your eye color."

I shook my head. The green one called to me the moment I saw it. I took my pendant, placed it on my palm and looked at the she-wolf's smiling face. The pendant was warm; I felt its weight on my hand. Beneath my skin, where it lay, I could feel the pulsing of my blood.

My blaidd benywaidd.

Liv helped me to select the chain, a thick sterling platinum rope. Its simple, elegant design made the pendant look even more enchanting.

I turned around and handed the necklace to Jack. "Please, clasp it."

He looked at the pendant. "I like your choice, Astrid."

"Thank you," I whispered. "This is the most beautiful present I've ever been given."

I looked at Magda. "Thank you."

She smiled at me, her eyes misty with suppressed tears.

IT WAS DINNER TIME WHEN we returned.

Facing the inevitable departure, I was tense. My grandparents were worried. Liv and Tristan behaved like overprotective parents whose small-town daughter was about to leave them to go study in a big city.

"I'll call you every night," Liv said.

Tristan hugged me. "God, I'm gonna miss you, Dr. Duplant. Everyone in Rosenthal will."

My uncle hmphed. "Well, it's not like she's going to Australia. She'll be among her family and her kinsmen."

"James," my aunt issued a warning.

Oblivious of James's annoyance, my grandmother continued fussing about me, down to how many jackets and pairs of boots I needed to take with me.

Jack stood up so abruptly that everyone got quiet. "Astrid, I need to talk to you. Now." He grabbed my hand and towed me to my room.

"What's going on, Jack?" I said as he closed the door behind him.

"Sit down in that armchair. I have to tell you something."

I did as he'd asked. Jack knelt beside me and cradled my face. "When I came to Rosenthal, I told you that you wouldn't be left without a choice. Now listen to me carefully. Astrid, say the word, just one word, and this is going to end. We could go to France, or to Italy, or to Argentina, wherever you want. I have friends everywhere. I alone can keep you safe from ten Seths, not just one. Or I'll kill the bastard first. You don't need to turn your entire life upside down. We can't ask you for that. There must be a way to finish Seth off without dragging you into this whole mess. You didn't create it; you shouldn't be cleaning it up. You can be the Red Cliffs ellida after that. Or not at all."

"Jack—" I started.

He raised his hand. "Let me finish, honey. Just say yes, and we'll be on the first plane to Vegas, we'll get married tomorrow, make love, connect your spirits, have children, have a house with a wrap-around porch, everything you want. You still have time, and you do have a choice."

By the time Jack finished, tears ran down my cheeks. Jack brushed them away with his thumb pads. "You know that I meant every word I said, don't you, Miss Spock?" he said softly.

"That's why I'm crying." I sniffed. "You've gotten into the habit of confessing your love in heartbreaking ways." I took a deep breath. "I made my decision, my love. I'll go to Red Cliffs."

"Are you sure, Astrid?"

"I am. I'm not just going there; I'm returning home. You belong there. My family is there. You are there. I've been chosen to be the Red Cliffs ellida. It's a gift and a privilege, and I won't waste it. I still don't know what I need to do, but if my presence there can help, I can't ignore who I am. If I had to choose between you and Red Cliffs, I would choose you, in the blink of an eye. But I can have both. And you can have me and you'll do what you are destined to do."

Jack pulled me to my feet and held me tight. "I love you insanely, do you know that?"

"I know."

"So, Vegas wasn't that tempting, huh?"

I chuckled. "Darn, Jack, it was tantalizing. But I want my white wedding dress, and I want to see you beside me in a black tuxedo. I want my family and friends in the church, and your brother's band playing a hard-rock version of _Here Comes the Bride_."

"You'll get it, all of it, Astrid. I promise." Jack whispered and closed his mouth over mine in a long soul-deep kiss.

WHEN WE RETURNED TO THE sitting room, my eyes were still red and puffy. My grandmother opened her mouth to say something, but I gently cut her off. "We all need to stop behaving as if I'm going to prison. Grandma, you're a wizard, you're supposed to be cool, remember? Don't fret anymore, please. You'll see me soon."

She opened her mouth to protest, then just raised her hands and said, "Okay, okay. I'm cool."

I hugged her and kissed her hair. Then I turned to James and Eve. "Uncle, Aunt, I'm a bit scared because so many things will be new for me. I've never lived among gwerin y blaidd. I don't know anything about being an ellida. Jack will be absent a lot, I assume. But I'll do my best not to disappoint you. I want to tell you I am happy I'm getting the chance to know you two and my cousins better. After two months I'll announce my decision regarding my position as the clan's ellida, and about my mate, although both of them have already been made."

My uncle stood up and kissed my forehead. "We'll try to make it easier for you. Thank you, child," he said simply.

Everybody relaxed. Tristan volunteered to grill the steaks, Eve and I got ourselves busy with the salad, Jack and Grandpa paid a visit to the wine cellar, Livia and Grandma set the table.

AFTER WE CALLED IT a day, I went to Jack's room.

"I want to stay here with you tonight," I said. "I want you to hold me, nothing else. Just hold me until I fall asleep."

He opened his arms and let me in. We didn't talk. I put my head on his shoulder and pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeats pulsating under my palm. I lay still, feeling Jack's soft, gentle lips on my hair. He tucked the blanket around me and linked our fingers.

I closed my eyes and let tomorrow come.

Part Two: Ellida

Chapter Thirty-Five

Astrid

I HAD THE FIRST GLIMPSE of my birthplace through the tiny oval window of my uncle's five-seat, blue and white Baron 55 aircraft.

Taking turns, he, Eve and Jack gave me a summary of Red Cliffs' history, geography and contemporary life.

Named after a dramatic mass of reddish rocks guarding its north side, Red Cliffs was nestled in a big, wide U-shaped glacial valley that gradually opened toward the south and east sides in gentle slopes. The Great Orme, a hill much older than the alpine mountains that surrounded the valley from the north, framed the west side of the valley.

A narrow depression between the two lowest hilltops formed a natural passage, connecting the territories of Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge, which stretched on the opposite side of the Great Orme. Most of Red Cliffs' farms and ranches, with the sweetest grasses and the best cattle stock in this part of the world, were settled southeast of the town.

Jack slid his arm behind the small of my back. "Remember when I told you about Gelltydd Coch and the first group of people who immigrated here in the early eighteenth century?"

I nodded and leaned my head on his shoulder.

Gelltydd Coch was a place in Northern Wales, from which Red Cliffs' first settlers immigrated to America. They must've loved their little village since they'd given their new settlement the same name: Gelltydd Coch meant "red cliffs" in old Welsh.

"How did the Great Orme get its name?" I asked. "It doesn't look that big."

Jack chuckled and kissed my temple. "It's named after the hill near Gelltydd Coch, even smaller than our Great Orme. Across in Copper Ridge, the Great Orme is called Halti, after a hill in Finland, where their first settlers came from."

"Red Cliffs is different from any other western mountain town I've ever seen," I said, bending closer to the oval window. I took in a small central town square sporting a tiny city hall, a church with a pointy tower and sharp-angled roof and several official buildings of mixed architectural provenances. "It looks like a mix of a small Scandinavian town and an Austrian Alpine village. Charming."

"It's not far from the truth," Eve said from her seat across from me. "The majority of Red Cliffs settlers came from the British Isles, Northern and Central Europe. They arrived in several small waves shortly after those first immigrants from Wales. Red Cliffs looks like a mismatch of different styles and epochs, true, but it's an accurate reflection of our mixed heritage."

"It's a charming mismatch," I said.

"It is, isn't it?" Eve waved in the general direction of the town below. "A few of the first buildings are still around, like the church and the courthouse. Goblin's Hollow, our local drinking hole, still has the original walls. The rest was built as the town grew."

The residential part occupied the east side of town, spreading out toward the valley. Most of the houses were timber framed, steeply pitched and shingle roofed. Although different in size and detail, they took rustic chic to a higher level. They were painted in yellow ochre, terracotta, olive green and dark orange to balance out the dark roofs, heavy window frames and decorative beams. The homes seemed in harmony with their ambivalent surroundings: the wild mountains to the north and the gentle valley to the south.

Other houses had brick or stone facades and their roofs were covered with dark slate. They were also different in size: some had an impressive square footage, while others were modest.

The town was established in the early eighteenth century, I learned, when the first group of settlers had arrived, but the recent dwellings were relatively new, comfortable and modern.

Eve pointed to a three-story rectangular house with a narrow front and long sides, a pointed roof that would allow the heavy snow loads to slide off, big windows and a white-painted porch. "That's your house, Astrid. You don't remember it, you were a baby when you left Red Cliffs. It belonged to your parents." She reached out and squeezed my hand. "We can go there whenever you're ready. Now, the first house on the left is James's and mine and that big one on the right, with two rows of tall windows, is Jack's."

Jack kissed my hair, " _Ours_. Yours and mine."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Jack, did you tell Astrid how our clan is organized?" my uncle said as the plane made another circle over the town.

"Not much," Jack said and winked at me. "Didn't come up in our conversations."

"Our clan is divided into twelve houses," Uncle James said. "Every Red Cliffs resident belongs to one of them. Heads of the houses are called captains and together with the einhamir, they constitute our government, which is called the High Council. As an ellida, you preside over the Council and you hold nominal, legal and constitutional power."

"So, you're saying you're, sort of, prime minister, and I'm, sort of, Queen Elizabeth," I said with a chuckle.

"Not really. Her role is ceremonial. You're a real boss."

A bubble of hysteria rose up in my throat. I swallowed hard and blinked several times. My aunt gave my uncle a sharp look, unscrewed a bottle of water and pushed it into my hands.

My uncle's eyebrows rose. "What? What did I say?"

"James! Don't scare her." To me, she said, "Don't mind your uncle, Astrid. He is over the moon—his niece is coming home, and on top of that, she's the clan's ellida."

"Didn't mean to frighten you, sweetie," James said. "You'll be fine, trust me."

I nodded and took a sip of water. "Tell me something else, Uncle. Are all the members of a house related?"

"More or less. The division into the houses has its practical reasons—marriages. We're not numerous. Marriages within one house aren't uncommon, but only the einhamir can approve them after the Council compares the family trees. We have to make sure that relatives from close genetic pools don't end up married."

"Which house do I belong to? Mohegan?"

"No. All the Mohegans belong to House Canagan," my uncle said. You and Jack are from the same house, but you're not closely related."

Jack and I were safe in any case. We were bond mates and close relatives didn't bond. Nature had taken care of it. "Who's the head of House Canagan, then?" I asked.

"James," Jack said in the same matter-of-fact tone James had used a moment ago.

"And you're above us all," my uncle said, beaming.

I took another swig of water.

Jack shifted in his seat. "Dad, I met a doctor in Rosenthal, Ahmed Demir, Astrid's colleague. He's one of us. He'll probably soon move to Red Cliffs."

Jack's little diversion worked, at least for a moment. "His name sounds Turkish. There are several werewolf clans in Turkey, but no Demirs among them. A loner?"

"Yes. Born as a human with some wizard blood in his veins, from his paternal side. He was a captain in the army. He was badly wounded in the battle between the Ottomans and the Polish, 1621 I think, and left to die. Woke up as a werewolf. He doesn't know who turned him or why. Perhaps someone tried to save him."

"Or perhaps someone tried to kill him but got interrupted, in which case he might thank his wizard blood for his survival. When is he coming?"

"Soon, I hope," Jack said. "He's been a loner by circumstance, not by nature, and he's tired of it."

"He's welcome," my uncle said and then turned his attention to me once more. Before he could say a word, however, Eve rubbed her arms. "It's chilly here. James, will you go and fetch my orange sweater? I think it's in my big black suitcase."

"Thanks, Mom," Jack whispered after James went to the back of the plane. He pulled me against his chest. "Are you okay?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The warm current ran through my body, relaxing my tense muscles. "Ready to take the bull by the horns," I said with a smirk.

The plane tilted to the right and began a slow turn. As we neared the ground, I saw a patchwork of hotels, lodges, cabins, chalets, souvenir shops, cafes and food stores.

"The Red Cliffs ski resort is family-oriented," Jack said and pointed to the gentle slopes. Indeed, I could see lots of kids on the trails beneath.

Jack pointed to the various department stores, food stores and home improvement warehouses near the outskirts of town. Then he turned my attention back to the picturesque town.

There was something else I needed to know. "Where's the medical center?"

"See that split-level building at the base of the mountain?"

It was a modern building, bigger than I'd expected. Red Cliffs had about five thousand residents, werewolves and gwerin alike. The former needed a little medical attention; the latter just a little bit more. The exceptions were kids. More robust than human children, they still could get sick with common childhood diseases, especially half-gwerin. But the majority of patients were tourists. Red Cliffs was a ski resort, after all, and injuries were common.

James came back with a sweater draped over his hand. He helped Eve to put it on. "Here. Took me forever to dig it out. It was at the bottom of your red suitcase, not the black one."

I wanted to ask more about the clinic, but the pilot told us to fasten our seatbelts. Soon the Baron 55 dipped down toward the runway and touched the ground.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Astrid

I STEPPED OUT OF THE plane right into the arms of a tall young man with tousled ruddy hair and brilliant blue eyes. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me from the ground.

"Welcome home, cousin!"

"Eamon! Nice to meet you."

Keeping his left arm around my shoulder, he offered his right hand to Jack. "Good to see you, man."

Jack shook his brother's hand. "Good to see you too, Eamon. Now, may I have my girlfriend back?"

Eamon winked at me. "Don't worry, cuz. We'll get him out of our hair soon," he said and kissed my cheek.

THE LIGHTS IN MY UNCLE and aunt's house were on when they arrived. Lily and Alec Falconer, my once-guardians, were waiting for us. They were apparently close to the Mohegans, since Eve had left them in charge of dinner.

They rushed to me and welcomed me to Red Cliffs. I instantly liked them both.

"I'm glad to meet you," I said to them and smiled. "You kinda know me, but I didn't know you."

Lily turned pink and Alec started to open his mouth to explain, but I shook my head. "Thank you for coming to Rosenthal to watch over me," I said and meant it.

THE MOHEGAN'S HOME WAS a large, comfortable and welcoming place, well lit and high ceilinged. It smelled homey, of pinewood and citrus peel. Although the house was evenly warmed with some sort of central heating, a cheerful fire was burning in the fireplace.

The big sitting room was furnished with functional and cushiony sofas and armchairs in warm tones of burnt sienna, rusty red and sage green. The antique coffee table, side tables and chest of drawers were made of rare and elegant reddish-brown East Indian rosewood, almost impossible to obtain any more. Vanilla-yellow walls, dark parquet floor, thick Oriental carpets in sage green and rich red completed the relaxing and harmonious interior. A curved staircase led to the second level.

The house had two dining rooms, both adjacent to the kitchen, Jack explained to me. The rectangular space that probably took up one third of the ground floor was used for frequent formal occasions involving a large number of guests. The much smaller family dining room was an intimate, casual place, with a round table that seated eight people in comfortable chairs upholstered with soft cushions.

Alec and Lily had made us an excellent supper: roast beef with potatoes and vegetables, spinach in béchamel sauce, red bell pepper casserole and sautéed mushrooms. The dinner ended with lemon soufflé, one of my favorite desserts. Coincidence, or had Jack told them lemons were my catnip? Didn't matter, it was heavenly.

After dinner, we continued sitting around the table in the dining room. Jack sat beside me holding my hand and playing with my fingers.

My uncle turned to me. "Morgaine and Takeshi Nakamura are coming tomorrow. You'll soon be very busy."

"Some of our friends and acquaintances may come tomorrow to welcome you," Eve said.

Some of my uneasiness returned. Sensing it, Jack put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. "They'll love you."

I probably didn't look convinced since my uncle winked and smiled at me. "Don't you worry. You are our ellida. You're ours, as we are yours."

Oh. I'd take some time to accept this concept.

Jack's fingers continued to stroke the nape of my neck, easing my anxiety.

"There'll be mostly women and children coming tomorrow," Eve said. "Later your uncle will formally introduce you to the captains."

_Oh._ "Okay."

"They're eager to meet you, sweetheart," my uncle said. "Now, about your house. We weren't sure what you wanted to do with the furniture, so we moved everything to the basement, to make room for your stuff. Alec brought almost everything here from your Rosenthal house."

Alec smiled. "I thought you'd like to have your things here. It might help you a bit with the transition. You can always deal with whatever you don't want here later. I can take it back, I don't mind."

"Oh, thank you, Alec," I said, touched with his thoughtfulness.

"I hope you didn't change your mind about staying here with us," Eve said. "We don't want to put you under more pressure, but if you don't mind, please stay with us. This is also your home."

"Of course she'll stay here, right, sweetie?" my uncle said and patted my hand before I could answer.

I swallowed a chuckle. No pressure. "Sure. I don't think solitude is what I need now."

I meant what I'd said. Jack would be coming and going. Staying close to Jack's family would help me cope with his absence.

There was another, even bigger reason. It was in my uncle's thick voice, in the way he looked at me, in his smile, in his adoration. I owed him at least that much.

LILY AND ALEC LEFT, PROMISING they'd come tomorrow. As moral support, as Alec had said, joking.

"Are you tired, Astrid?" Eve asked after seeing the Falconer siblings out. "It's been a long day. Do you want me to show you your room?"

It had been a long day indeed. "That may be a good idea," I said and turned to Jack. "You're not leaving tomorrow, are you?"

"No. Day after tomorrow. I have a couple of meetings in the morning, but I'll be here later."

"Astrid, sweetheart," my uncle said, "Jack and I have lots to do in the next couple of weeks. That means traveling. I'll go myself whenever possible so that Jack can stay here."

"I understand, Uncle. Thank you for being considerate."

"One more thing." He reached for his pocket and took out a set of car keys. "It's a welcoming present," he said and offered them to me. "You need a reliable vehicle here, so your aunt and I bought you a truck."

I remembered Eve's advice she'd given me back in Seattle when she told me about the truck. I smiled and extended my hand for the keys. "It's too much, really, but thank you, Uncle and Aunt." Then I stood up and hugged them both.

"It's an F-150," Eamon said proudly. "Navy-blue."

"Perfect. I like the color blue." I hadn't said that out of courtesy. Blue was my second favorite color, but I wouldn't want a pickup in my number one color—pink.

Only Jack didn't look happy. "I promised Astrid a car."

"So what?" Uncle James said. "It doesn't mean you can't buy her a car, too."

"Please, no more cars," I said, laughing.

"Well, a truck is a practical solution, I'll give you that," Jack said, his good mood returning, "but didn't you mention you'd like to have a sports car?"

"I did not!" I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "I'll have my Honda brought here."

"No, you will not," Jack said in a non-negotiating voice. "I have a car for you in mind."

I groaned and raised my arms in surrender. It was a lost battle.

"Many people here have two cars or more cars, you know. Not a big deal," my uncle said with a shrug and changed the subject. "If you like, you and I can go to your house tomorrow morning."

"Sure," I said. "I have to fetch some things from there."

My aunt looked at me. "Shall we?"

Jack stood up and placed a soft kiss on my lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Sweet dreams, baby."

THE FIRST THING I SAW when Eve opened my room was my Waterford crystal vase with two dozen pink roses on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Jack asked Lily to buy them for you and put them in your vase," she said. "To welcome you."

My heart melted. Oh, Jack. I already missed him.

I took a deep breath and looked around. It was a simple, comfortable room with an attached bathroom. The light walls balanced out the polished hardwood floor, the massive bed frame and dark furniture. One glance at the spacious, inviting bed, with its fluffy white pillows and crisp bedspreads, made me realize how dog-tired I was.

Eve showed me around the room before she wished me good night.

My suitcases and a few boxes with my clothing stood in the corner, but I didn't bother to unpack them. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth and wrapped myself in a towel.

I moved the curtain and looked through the window just in time to see the lights in the big house flicking on. Jack was at home, across the yard, and that thought comforted me.

Further down, I could see my house, wrapped in the dark night. I smiled. Positioned slightly ahead, stood Jack's home, a big, handsome, solid structure, like its owner himself.

_Our_ home.

I pressed my palm against the windowpane. "I love you, Jack," I whispered, feeling tired, feeling oversentimental, feeling scared. What would the future bring?

My eyes prickled, but I pulled myself together before tears came. I was here, I'd made my choice. I had Jack; I had my inner strength, I had my goals. Whatever the future brought, I'd face it.

I blew Jack a kiss then walked to the bed and let the towel fall to the floor. I slid under the covers. The bedsheets were smooth and pleasant against my bare skin. "Better get used to sleeping naked. Right, Jack?" I murmured to myself, remembering our little talk about my nightwear, or rather the absence of it.

I turned the lights off. With a sigh of pleasure, I cocooned the bedcover around myself.

I closed my eyes trying not to think about my Red Cliffs debut the next day.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Astrid

EYES STILL CLOSED, I STRETCHED in bed. I'd woken up in the same position I'd fallen asleep in the previous night. My inner clock told me it was around six-thirty. The room was quiet; no sound was coming from downstairs. I wondered if anyone was already up.

I jumped out of bed, wrapped the bedcover tightly around me and waddled to the window.

The sun hadn't risen yet, but the bluish-grey sky sprinkled with a few remaining stars promised a sunny day. I glanced toward Jack's house, sharply outlined against the milky morning. Dark. It looked like he was already gone.

Snow covered the ground; a lot of snow. It hadn't been snowing recently, however, since the roofs and tree branches were clear of it.

I took a shower, brushed my teeth, blow-dried my hair. I tidied up the bed and turned to my luggage with all my wizardly efficiency. Soon all my clothes and accessories were in the old oak armoire and the matching chest of drawers or in the bathroom.

I put on my black slacks and my favorite Persian rose mohair turtleneck, hoping it would be okay for my first, informal socializing with Red Cliffs.

I checked my appearance in the dressing table mirror. Since my last transformation, the coppery undertone of my honey-blond hair had become more prominent. I looked at my pink sweater with a critical eye, but to my surprise, the effect was flattering. Good. I had to give up a lot recently, but I wasn't ready to give up on wearing my favorite color.

The only jewelry I decided to wear was the silver wolf-pendant necklace Jack had bought me in Seattle.

DOWN IN THE KITCHEN, MY uncle was in full cooking mode. He was juggling the toaster, frying pan and coffee machine, leaving a significant mess behind.

Eve was setting the table; Eamon's head was buried in the fridge.

"Good morning," I said from the doorway, feeling a bit nervous.

My family was more relaxed. They smiled and greeted me in unison. Uncle James kissed my cheek, Eve wanted to know if I'd slept well and my cousin gave me a bear hug, asking me which jam I preferred: strawberry or apricot.

My tension eased. It was impossible to stay stiff among such affectionate people. We ate and chatted. Eve told me Jack would be back later, but that the visitors would start showing up around eleven.

"Do you need help with anything?" I asked.

"Lily will be here soon to help me. You and Eamon can go to your house."

"I'll go with them, Eve," my uncle said and stood up. "Fetch your jacket, Astrid. It's just around the corner, but it's chilly outside."

THE AIR WAS CRISP, INFUSED with the scent of snow, wind and pine. I closed my eyes against the bright sunshine and took several deep gulps.

I walked between my uncle and Eamon, who held his right arm lightly wrapped around my shoulder. I eyed him under my lashes. At seventeen, he was already taller than James and just a bit shorter than his brother. Not for long, I'd say, since he was still growing. He still carried the last traces of teenage skinniness, but with his broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs he'd definitely crossed the border to adulthood.

Eamon was neither overwhelmingly handsome like his brother, nor did he yet possess his father's powerful physique. He didn't resemble his mother, either. With his brilliant blue eyes, thick, reddish-blond hair and long narrow nose, he was, in fact, a male version of myself.

He noticed I was watching him. As if he could read my mind, he said, "It was a bit of a shock when I saw you yesterday. You look like my twin sister."

My uncle let out a soft chuckle. "None of my kids took after me. Maggie looks like her mother and Eamon took after my brother."

"You'll get a second chance with your grandchildren," Eamon said.

"Jack says we have something else in common," I said to Eamon. "Music. He told me about Rawhide and the bar where you guys play on weekends."

"Yes, and we need a singer. Jack says you have a fantastic voice."

"Whoa, whoa! Hold on! I'm not going to sing, no way!"

Unconcerned with my reaction, Eamon continued building his case. "It'd be a good way to meet people and let them get to know you. And for us. Man, who wouldn't come to hear the ellida?"

Yeah, I could imagine that. "That's way out of my comfort zone, Eamon. Sorry."

My cousin wasn't a person to be easily discouraged. "Even Dad thinks it's a good idea."

Really? When did they discuss it? And why, instead of being shocked, did my uncle think it would be okay for me to sing in a pub? I looked at him in surprise. He smiled and nodded. "Why not? Goblin's Hollow is a decent place. It's up to you, Astrid. No pressure. Just think about it."

Eamon wouldn't easily drop the idea of getting a singer. And just for a moment, I imagined it: a pub full of people, a small stage for the band and me singing all the songs I loved. Wouldn't that be great?

"I'll think about it," I said. "I promise."

WE STOPPED AT THE WHITE fence that surrounded my house. James pushed it open and turned to me. "Are you okay with this, Astrid?"

"I'll be fine, Uncle."

I didn't have memories of this place; I was too young when I'd left it. Still, my heart pounded in my throat as James turned the knob and we stepped inside.

I stood near the entrance, reluctant to step in. My uncle's fingers gently closed around my shoulder and gave me a little push.

I looked around the house where my parents had lived during their short marriage. I thought I'd feel something. Anything. But the old house remained silent. No memories, no scents, no signs of its former inhabitants.

The big living room swallowed up my compact furniture from Rosenthal.

The house was clean and well aired. A pleasant and oddly familiar blend of lavender and citrus reached my nostrils. The floor was spotless, the windows and translucent white organdy curtains recently washed.

I tried to imagine my father and my mother here, to hear their voices. No matter how briefly, they must have liked each other. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been born, right?

Until Jack came into my life, I'd known about my parents only what Ella and Gottfried had chosen to tell me. Almost nothing, in other words. They had their reasons; I understood that, but it was time to find the answers. Time to know my parents.

"Mom, Dad, where are you?" I whispered softly as my chest tightened with awakened pain. "You must be somewhere here, with me."

I closed my eyes and saw a room with soft pink walls, filled with golden autumn light, white curtains blowing in the afternoon breeze. And two smiling faces, one with soft grey eyes, the other one with dark blue, hovering above a child in a crib.

The old house wasn't quiet anymore.

I pushed back tears and looked at my uncle. "I know some people here doubt me because of my mother. Well, Red Cliffs needs to accept me for who I am and forgive my mother for whatever they want to believe she's guilty of," I said quietly, swallowing my tears. "I am not only Hal's daughter, but Rowena's too. If Red Cliffs can't do that then I don't think I can stay here."

For a long moment, James didn't say anything, and then he nodded. "Fair enough. I don't ask you to deny that part of yourself; you know that, don't you?"

"I know."

"It will be fine, you'll see. Just give us a chance. We need you here."

As I needed them, I thought, and this little town, and a different kind of belonging—to my father's kin, to another part of myself.

_Here I am, Father, Mother,_ I wept silently. _I came_ _home because I wanted to, because I'm happy to be a big, strong werewolf with red fur and amber eyes. And a wizard with blue eyes and golden-reddish hair. I am happy being who I am._

I felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders. "I'm not going to live here, Uncle, but I'll keep the house," I said to Uncle James. To my cousin, who'd been sitting quietly on my beige sofa, I said, "Help me find my laptop, will you? We should go back. Aunt Eve might need a few extra pairs of hands."

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Astrid

THE KITCHEN LOOKED BUSY as a beehive and smelled wonderful.

"Check the oven, Astrid. The squares should be done by now," Eve said when I offered to give her a hand.

I pulled out a big baking sheet with raspberry bars. "Pour the glaze over it, let it stand a few minutes and then cut it into two-bite-sized pieces," she said, pushing a bowl with sugary coating into my hands.

Alec was in charge of the catered finger food that had just arrived. Lily started another batch of brownies in a copper mixing bowl.

I heard the front door open and my uncle's voice greeting someone. A moment later a young woman with a four-year-old child came in.

"Hi, I'm Tess Randall, and this is Graeme." She hugged me and kissed my cheeks. "Say hello to Miss Mohegan, Graeme. She is our ellida."

I ducked down to his eye level. "Hi, Graeme. You can call me Astrid if you like. What do you have there?" I pointed to a small yellow dump truck clenched in his fist. And immediately regretted my attempt to make conversation because his eyes filled with tears.

"I dropped it, and it broke." He sniffed. "This morning."

"Maybe it can be fixed?"

"See here." He pointed to the broken axle.

The small truck was made of metal; probably a heritage toy.

"You know what, Graeme," I whispered into his ear. "I have my special glue somewhere. I'll fix it before you leave. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, sniffing and gave me the truck. The metal was warm from his little hands.

I shoved it into my pocket and touched the broken axle. "Come now," I said and extended my hand to Graeme. "How about a cookie?"

"I like cookies," he said and placed his hand in mine.

While Graeme told me about a baby brother growing in his mom's tummy, or perhaps a baby sister, but who was still smaller than a pea, about his father working currently in Alaska, and about his cat, Orange (with French pronunciation!), inside of my pocket, energy flowed through my fingers, forging the broken pieces together.

"You don't have food allergies, do you?" I asked when he finished with his mini family saga and glanced at his mother. She shook her head.

"No. Only Henry has them," Graeme said, putting his small hands in mine. "He's allergic to cookies and ice cream and even pizza."

PEOPLE KEPT COMING. MORE WOMEN, more children, a few men as well, among them six-year-old Henry Radford, a child prodigy with an IQ over 160, and his grandmother, Dana.

All these new faces and names. Not my preferable social setting. My family stayed close to me, however, and my visitors were really friendly and thrilled to meet me.

And then the door opened again and my heart jumped. Jack walked in, bringing with him his incredible scent, and the knot in my stomach eased.

"Hey." He brushed my lips with his. "How's everything?"

The warm stream spread from my lips through my entire body. I caught a few curious looks and blushed.

"Oh, fine," I said, shy and happy at the same time.

Jack's light kiss could be interpreted both as an affectionate greeting, as well as a statement of our relationship as a couple. He let everybody in the room reach their own conclusions. He greeted Tess and listened to Graeme's truck story, then gently squeezed my upper arm and joined his mother and James on the other side of the room. He kept me in sight all the time and I felt safe and protected.

A moment later, James let in two women. He gave a fatherly hug to the younger one and kissed her forehead, politely nodded to the older woman, and then introduced them to me as Violet Kincaid and her daughter Peyton.

My heart stopped. Peyton. Jack's former girlfriend.

The mother approached me first, with a courteous smile. I was aware of the subtle change in the atmosphere. The buzz quieted a notch down; heads discreetly turned in our direction.

"I'm honored to meet you, Astrid," Violet said.

Her voice was flat, her dark eyes unreadable. I couldn't sense her emotions, as if she was blocking me. Why? Who was this woman?

"It's my pleasure, Mrs. Kincaid."

"Let me introduce you to my daughter."

Peyton Kincaid gave me a warm smile. She was lovely, fine-boned, feminine. With translucent skin, dark hair and big, innocent blue eyes dominating her heart-shaped face, she was the kind of a woman that evoked protective and possessive responses in the opposite sex.

I tried hard to like her.

She inquired about my trip here, my job, my future plans. She worked for Millennium Properties and liked to travel.

Violet didn't say much, didn't look at me with open curiosity. Yet I had a feeling she was aware of my every word, every look, every movement. For some reason, she was assessing me.

The new wave of visitors arrived, saving me from Violet's unfathomable gaze and Peyton's chirpy friendliness.

Violet excused herself—she had to go; she'd just stopped by to say hello, she said. Peyton said she hoped to see me soon. From under my lashes, I watched as she walked to Jack. She hugged him and kissed his cheek, and he did the same.

Something deep and primal stirred inside me, urging me to march right there, wedge myself between them and bare my teeth at Peyton.

I blinked and looked again, my rational side taking over. It was nothing more than a greeting between friends.

Oh, alright. Like former lovers who had parted on good terms. Like Ingmar and me.

Then she placed her tiny hand on his upper arm. And kept it there. A head taller than her, Jack smiled down at her.

The alarm in my head went off. My body tensed, and jealousy twisted my stomach into a burning knot.

She was still in love with him.

Summoning all my inner strength, I turned away from the picture of a smiling Jack and a small hand on his bicep.

Of course, I thought, hurt and confused, as I greeted the new arrivals. Jack hadn't lived as a monk, waiting for me to be born, grow up and find him in my backyard.

And then I heard an angry, hurt voice growling inside my head.

" _She better move her hand from his arm!"_

My wolf was ready to pounce. She wanted to come out and take over.

" _You must trust him,"_ I said with a calmness I didn't feel. _"He isn't interested in her that way. Trust him."_

" _She is surely interested in_ him _! Look at her! She's all over him!"_

It was an exaggeration, but I saw the point. Still. " _Enough,"_ I said sharply. _"You back off and let me handle this."_

I was angry with myself for letting my jealousy get the better of me. My wolf had just vocalized the tangled mess of hot emotions we both felt, only I was ashamed of it and she wasn't. I was trying to deal with it with logic and reason, while she wanted to come out and deal with it in person. That was the only difference.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself what a gentleman Jack had been when Ingmar had come to see me. But Ingmar and I were just friends now, two people who had ended their love affair long ago and felt good about it.

Could Jack say the same about Peyton Kincaid and her feelings toward him?

I didn't doubt Jack's love for me, not for a moment. I wasn't sure if he was aware of it, but to me, it was clear as day the petite girl wasn't over him. She looked at him with love and adoration. But there was something else in her pretty blue eyes that made me pause. What was it? Hurt? Pain? Had he told her about us? Or had she figured it out on her own?

My crazy attack of possessiveness aside, I didn't want my love for Jack to hurt her.

She removed her hand from his arm. Jack took a small step back expanding the physical space between them. I felt his eyes on me and felt the power of his love embracing me.

Not that long ago, I'd been concerned about the power of the bond that left Jack and me more or less without options. We had decided to make the best of it, to accept it as a gift, to nurture it and cherish it. Now I felt the bond as freedom and a blessing, as precious and magnificent as life itself.

I found Jack's eyes and smiled at him. His warm, amber gaze caressed me with love.

" _Happy now?"_ I asked my wolf.

I felt her sigh. _"Yeah, you're probably right. But you know what? Nobody touches what is mine!"_

If I weren't among dozens of people, I'd roll my eyes. Instead, I exhaled deeply and I turned my attention to little Henry. He was kneeling in front of a side table beside the sofa, drawing.

I sat on the sofa, peeking at his artwork. It looked like a picture of ocean life. I opened my mouth to ask him about it, but he looked at me and said candidly, "Miss Mohegan, your eyes changed color. I'm sure they were blue when we were introduced to each other."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jack freeze and turn to me. Eamon shot me a worried glance. Alec and Eve started walking toward me. James cast me a worried glance. I gave them all a discreet sign I'd be okay.

Henry picked a blue pencil and continued coloring his artwork. "Could you please explain to me how you do that? It's absolutely fascinating," he said in his grown-up language.

Now we had the full attention of the entire room.

"Is that because you are a witch?" Henry carried on.

"Henry!" his grandmother snapped. "Miss Mohegan is a wizardess, not a witch."

"But Granny, this is purely a gender matter. Men are wizards, women are witches."

"Henry Radford, that's enough!" His grandmother warned him. "Not a word anymore!"

I laughed. "It's okay, Mrs. Radford. Henry, why don't you sit here beside me?" I patted the spot on the sofa.

"Okay." He grabbed his drawing and nestled beside me.

"We call ourselves wizards and wizardesses," I said. "In our wizard tongue, we say asanni for a female wizard, and asyr for a male wizard. Some others use the words witch and wizard."

Henry shifted in his seat and looked at me from under his lashes. "Miss Mohegan, I'm sorry I offended you by calling you a witch."

"Oh, you didn't offend me at all," I said in a light voice. "One of my favorite female fictional characters is a witch. Miss Hermione Granger."

He looked at me from under his thick, dark lashes and smiled. "Mine too. Now tell me about your eyes, if you don't mind. I'm very curious."

Now, about my eyes. I sighed inwardly. Henry was too intelligent to be sidetracked. "I have two different eye colors. My asanni is blue-eyed and my blaidd benywaidd has amber eyes."

"Cool. Does it give you trouble sometimes? For example, when you travel, with the customs officers when they check your passport?"

I almost burst out laughing. "I've been quite lucky so far. May I see your picture?"

"Of course," he said and offered me his drawing.

"It's lovely! And very detailed," I said, looking at schools of fish, sea stars, krill, sponges, jellyfish.

"It's the coral reef ecosystem," he said. "A variety of species live here together. Coral are calcium carbonate structures." He looked up at me. "You probably know that."

"I do, but I still like listening to you," I said. "You seem very knowledgeable for an eight-year-old young man."

His green eyes lit up. "But I'm six, Miss Mohegan."

I tilted my head and pretended to give him a doubtful once-over. "Six! You don't say! I was sure you were older."

Henry beamed and then asked me if I played chess.

"I do," I said.

"Then perhaps we can have a match or two one day."

Although I was a decent player, I wasn't crazy about chess. But one look into Henry's bright, smart eyes told me that a match with Red Cliffs' young genius could be quite an experience. "It will be my pleasure, Master Henry," I said and placed a loud smack on his rosy cheek.

Shortly after, the other guests started departing. When Tess and Graeme were ready to leave, I told them to wait. I hurried into the kitchen, opened a few drawers as if looking for something mumbling, for good measure, "My glue. Where is it? Ah, here!" A minute later, I returned to the hallway and gave Graeme his truck back. "All fixed," I said and winked.

He turned and looked at the axle, beaming. "Look, Mom! It's like new."

Well, if not like new, then stronger for sure. This axle would not easily break again.

"What do you say, Graeme?" Tess reminded him gently.

He whispered a sweet "thank you" and hugged me. My heart melted.

PEYTON WAS NEXT TO COME to say goodbye.

"It was nice to meet you, Peyton," I said.

"Jack told me about your house in Rosenthal and your Seattle condo. Let's talk about them when you have time. I can help you sell or rent them. Anyway, I hope I'll see you soon. We can go out for lunch one of these days."

" _Yeah, that's gonna happen,"_ my wolf smirked.

"Sure. That would be nice."

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Astrid

WHEN WE CLOSED THE DOOR after the last visitor, I collapsed on the sofa with a deep sigh of relief.

Eve and I were alone. James and Jack had gone to the airport to pick up Ellida Morgaine and Takeshi Nakamura. Their planes were supposed to arrive within thirty minutes. Eamon was upstairs in his room.

"You must be hungry," Eve said and sat beside me, holding a square plate with finger food in one hand and a glass of mineral water in another. She passed me the food and laid the glass on the coffee table. "This was an intense morning. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now," I said and took a cheese roll.

"What happened, Astrid? I didn't notice anything until Henry asked you about your eyes."

"My blaidd benywaidd felt neglected, I guess," I said. "Or she'd acted upon my deepest instinct. So many werewolves around and she had to stay inside."

"Would you turn if she was persistent?"

"I don't think so. I turn during the full moon only, but since I met Jack, my wolf tries to come out in between changes. So far I've been able to control her."

"Are you okay now? You did well, Astrid. We're proud of you."

Eve's praise lifted my spirit. "I'm fine," I said. "It wasn't that difficult. Eve," I looked at her, "may I ask you something? That woman, Violet Kincaid. Who is she?"

I couldn't and I wouldn't ask her about Peyton. Besides, Violet intrigued me more than Jack's ex-beau.

There was a slight delay before Eve answered as if she wondered where to start, or what to tell. "She was born in Copper Ridge," she finally said, "but she moved to Red Cliffs some thirty years ago, just before Peyton was born."

"Who's Peyton's father?"

Eve shrugged. "I heard she met him on one of her travels. She worked as a flight attendant back then. They dated for a while. She got pregnant, and he disappeared. After Peyton was born, she asked Jack's father, who was the einhamir then, to allow her to settle in Red Cliffs. I guess it was hard to deal with her Copper Ridge relatives' disapproval. He granted her permission."

"Was Peyton's father a werewolf?" I asked.

Eve confirmed with a nod. "Yes, but that's all that we know. Violet's never talked about him."

Eve's story hadn't explained Violet's strange interest in me, but before I could ask, she said, "You're bound to hear it sooner or later, so better if I tell you right now. A few years after Violet had settled here, your father returned to Red Cliffs from Seattle, where he lived for a while. He and Violet fell in love. Unfortunately, shortly before that, your father and mother had an affair. They broke up, but your mother was already pregnant and Hal married her. Violet was devastated."

"Why did my parents marry? They didn't love each other. Many wizards are single parents."

"Your mother didn't want to marry, but our kind is a bit more traditional. It was the honorable thing to do. Your mother was young, she was a wizard, a daughter of our great friends. Your father, your grandparents, my late husband, your uncle—they all put a lot of pressure on Rowena. Your parents genuinely liked each other, and that helped. They married, decided to wait until you were born and turned one, and then divorce so that Hal could marry Violet. Rowena understood that. But then..."

A tremor ran through her, a short, involuntary spasm as painful memories that would stay with her forever flooded over her.

She blinked and smiled at me. "Anyhow, your father's death was another terrible blow."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Did they actually divorce? My parents?"

"No. They didn't have time."

"How come I don't know anything about this? I'm not surprised my grandparents didn't mention it; they never say anything. But why didn't Jack tell me about Violet?"

"I don't know, honey. Perhaps he didn't feel comfortable talking about who your mother and father loved or not."

"I couldn't figure her out. She looked unemotional, almost detached."

"Violet is an unhappy and bitter woman. She still holds your mother responsible for your father's death, if not personally then indirectly."

Once more I recalled her unreadable eyes. What had she seen in me? My mother's daughter? Someone who, in a sense, had taken the man she'd loved from her? Or the flesh and blood of the man she loved? If she had, she certainly didn't show it.

"She won't make any trouble for you," Eve said as if she could read my mind. "She can't; you're our ellida. And you won't see much of her. She's seldom here. She has a travel agency in Denver and she spends most of the time there."

"And her daughter? I noticed you all like Peyton," I said.

"Peyton's like family," Eve said with a genuine smile. And a subtle _something_ in her voice. A message? A gentle warning? Did she know I knew Peyton and Jack had dated?

"She seems nice." I was noble enough to admit it, even though my blaidd benywaidd didn't agree.

"When Peyton was younger, she'd stay with us while Violet was away," Eve said.

"She let Peyton stay with you even though you were not close?"

Eve shrugged. "Your uncle insisted, so she didn't have lots of choices. See, we don't have nannies here; we have relatives, friends and neighbors instead." Her amber eyes found mine. "Peyton's special to us. We love her as our own."

"I like her, too," I said, meaning it. My rational mind had finally won over my overheated emotions. Whatever had been between Jack and her belonged to the past.

Eve smiled and patted my hand. "You forgot to eat," she said. "Better put some food in your belly while you still have time. Morgaine and Takeshi are about to arrive."

NO SOONER HAD I EATEN and taken a shower than the doorbell announced the Ellida and my martial arts teacher.

When I was five, my grandfather had bought me a picture book collection of fairy tales. It had included, among others, every little girl's favorite princess stories: _Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White_ and _Beauty and the Beast._

I'd fallen in love with the illustrations. The princesses were lovely and wore brightly colored baroque gowns with deep necklines, narrow waistlines and cascades of brocade and silk supported by wide hoops. In my young imagination, the princes, with their pageboy haircuts and flamboyant clothes, were the epitome of male beauty. I had my first crush on one of them.

Most vividly I remembered the fairy godmother from _Cinderella_. Unlike her plump, grandmotherly Disney counterpart wrapped in a shapeless cloak, that particular fairy godmother was a young woman in a beautiful bluish-white organdy gown. She looked more like Cinderella's best friend than her fairy godmother.

That was the image that immediately popped up in my mind when Morgaine, the ellida of Gelltydd Coch clan, stepped into the hallway.

Morgaine was of average height and looked to be in her early thirties, very feminine with her full breasts and curvy hips. Her straight, dark auburn hair was held back with a wide green headband. Her face was oval-shaped and clear-featured: high cheekbones, straight nose, full mouth. What made that face unforgettable was a set of beautiful wide-spaced sage green eyes sprinkled with gold speckles. Long, arched eyebrows gave them width and depth. Framed with thick lashes, Morgaine's misty green pools looked mysterious, sexy, wise. And timeless.

Now those incredible eyes glanced over me and I had the feeling they penetrated into every corner of my soul.

She smiled at me. The speckles in her eyes grew bigger, giving her green eyes a honey gold hue. "I'm very happy to meet you, Astrid," she said in a pleasant, velvety contralto. "We've been waiting for you for such a long time."

I smiled. "I'm honored to meet you, Ellida."

Morgaine took a step aside and a young man who stood behind her stepped forward.

My aunt smiled. "Takeshi, welcome. Meet my niece, Astrid."

"Miss Mohegan," Takeshi said stiffly and made a short bow with his head.

He looked so noble that I suppressed an urge to reply with "my lord Nakamura." "Nice to meet you, Takeshi. And please, call me Astrid."

Young Nakamura (as Jack and James had referred to him to distinguish him from his father, referred to as Master Nakamura), was breathtakingly beautiful: slender, refined, with black hair and astonishing dark eyes. His father was a human of Japanese origin, his mother, born in Red Cliffs, was a blaidd benywaidd. Takeshi's entire appearance was a spectacular blend of his mixed heritage.

I glanced at Jack, who stood aside, waiting for us to finish with the formalities. His gaze was fixed on Takeshi and I was sure he'd reached the same conclusion regarding this epitome of male beauty. He didn't look very happy, and I knew what was troubling him: he would be gone tomorrow, and I would stay here with this stunning young samurai.

"Eve! I'm so happy to see you," Morgaine said and hugged my aunt in a spontaneous gesture. "It's been a while." She turned to my cousin and greeted him in the same casual manner. "Well, hello, Eamon. God, you've grown a lot since the last time I saw you."

Eve took Morgaine and Takeshi to their rooms upstairs, to unpack and refresh. Half an hour later, we all gathered in the dining room.

AFTER DINNER, JACK SAID HE was going home to get ready for tomorrow's trip. My stomach knotted and I briefly closed my eyes. _Oh, I'm not ready for that!_ I screamed silently, as panic washed over me. _Oh,_ _please don't go. Don't leave me here._

"May I talk to you for a minute, Astrid?" Jack said.

I excused myself and walked him to the door.

He locked his arms around me. I pressed my forehead against his chest, listening to his heart and letting the warm current run between us, enwrapping us protectively.

Since we'd arrived in Red Cliffs, we hadn't had an opportunity to be alone. I wanted to ask him about Peyton. I wanted to hear there was nothing to worry about. Now it was too late for that. Whatever it had been, I told myself, it was over, otherwise, Jack would have told me.

"Take care, Jack. Don't be long."

"I would be a fool to let you wait for too long," he said quietly and sought my lips, claiming them in a fierce kiss. "I love you, Astrid," he whispered into my hair. "More than I thought was possible."

And with that, he was gone.

I licked my lips that tasted of Jack, numb and swollen from his dark, ferocious kiss, and walked back to the dining room. As I passed by Morgaine, she reached out and took my hand, motioning to the chair beside her.

"We'll start with our training on Monday," she said. "Takeshi can work with you in the morning and you and I will meet every afternoon. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," I said and gently squeezed Morgaine's hand in confirmation. "I'm looking forward to starting."

LATER IN MY ROOM, I took a shower and put on a nightgown. Tonight, I didn't feel like sleeping only with the nail polish on my toes. Although I was tired, sleep refused to come. From the bottom of my purse, I dug out my phone and checked the messages. Liv, Ella, another one from Liv.

I'd call them tomorrow.

I crossed the room and peered outside. The lights in the big house across the yard were still on.

I returned to the bed and propped myself against the pillows. Hands clasped behind my head, I stared into the semidarkness of the room. The images of the day came back: the cold, unhappy eyes of Violet Kincaid, Peyton's small hand clutched around Jack's arm, love and pain in her eyes, my wolf's angry, jealous roars. Henry's questions, Eve's story about Peyton and Violet, Morgaine, Takeshi. And Jack, who was leaving tomorrow. My throat ached and my chest tightened.

Fortunately, my mind never liked to dwell too long on unhappy thoughts, so I immediately crossed to the sunny side of the street: the night Jack and I had met, the exciting and confusing first days, our first kiss, our hiking trips, our talks, laughs and fights.

A soft knock on the windowpane broke the string of happy memories. I leaped from the bed and dashed across the room.

I opened the window and Jack softly landed inside. "Mom's still downstairs," he said with a broad smile.

His explanation of his unusual choice to enter the house made me giggle. "Do you also feel like a teenager, or it's only me?" I said and launched myself into his outstretched arms. Our mouths touched and our bodies pressed, and the world resumed its normal shape.

"It's romantic, admit it." He swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. I closed my arms around his neck, pulling him down on me. "You were tense like a string. I couldn't go before I checked if there was a monster in your closet."

"I'm already missing you."

Gripping my wrists, he unlocked my arms and held them above my head. "You looked lost tonight for a moment. What was wrong?"

I wouldn't ask him about Peyton. Not tonight.

"Peyton," I said and closed my eyes, embarrassed.

"Ah, I knew there was a monster here, a green-eyed one," Jack said and kissed the tip of my nose. "I told you about her. What's the problem? Open your eyes, Astrid."

I did, and my face burned. "I'm behaving like an idiot. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, baby. We dated for a while, a couple of years ago. At first, I thought it could turn into something permanent, but we were too different. She dumped me, if you need to know." His lips gently brushed mine. "Talk to me, always. Don't wrestle with your demons alone."

"Oh, Jack, my wolf almost came out today. She's among her own kind, she wants to be here, where she belongs. And then Peyton came and... Jack, she's still in love with you, you're aware of that, aren't you?"

He looked at me, genuinely surprised. "No, Astrid. We are friends now, like you and Ingmar. Peyton's like family."

"Your mother told me that."

He released my wrists and brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. "Peyton is not in love with me. Not anymore."

Typical for his gender when it came to the male-female subtle emotional messages, Jack didn't see the obvious, and I didn't think I could convince him that Peyton still had feelings for him. He didn't share her them and assumed she felt the same.

For Jack, the topic was closed. He kissed me once more, lovingly, tenderly, moving from my lips to my neck, and further down until I moaned.

"You sure nobody can hear us?" I murmured holding his head between my hands, gently threading my fingers through his hair.

He chuckled. "Relax, Miss Spock. The room's soundproofed according to the highest standards."

Jack took his time kissing my breasts, stroking them gently, teasing their hard tips with his lips, tongue and teeth. I lost track of time and place. I was transported into a realm of physical pleasure and emotional fulfillment where nothing else existed except my body, Jack's mouth on it and the beating of our hearts.

I could feel the sweet pressure building inside the darkest depths of my womb. My flesh throbbed, swollen and moist, my own scent reached my nostrils and I inhaled it deeply. It smelled good, womanly, sexy and primal.

Ripples of sweet, aching pleasure spread throughout my body until they reached the pulsating, nerve-rich nub between my thighs. A gentle brush of Jack's fingers over my swollen flesh, and I disintegrated into thousands of weightless fragments of light.

Eons passed before I became aware of a tiny bead that snuck out from the corner of my eye. Jack's lips caught it before it disappeared behind my ear. I let out a tiny sob.

"I love you, Jack. Oh, God, I love you so much," I whispered and showered him with fast, feathery touches of my lips against his mouth, eyes, cheeks, chin. I breathed in his scent, musky and sweet from the hard arousal pressing through his jeans against my abdomen.

"I love you, too, Astrid," he said, pressing his lips against mine in another long, hot kiss.

IT WAS CLOSE TO DAWN when we heard James and Eve in the kitchen. "Are you sure they didn't hear us?" I asked Jack. "I can hear _them_ now."

"All private rooms are soundproofed, remember?" He winked. "We didn't hear them while they were in their room, now did we? I'm sure a very tender farewell took place last night."

"Oh, God, Jack, how can you even say that? They are your parents!"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "So? Parents have sex, don't they? Mine love each other very much. Eve doesn't like when James leaves, no matter how short the trip, and he's never happy to leave her, except maybe when he goes fishing." He tucked the blanket around me and kissed me. "Off I go now. Take a good shower before you go down."

I expected him to leave the room the same way he had entered it, but he walked to the door. "I need to talk to James," he said, answering my unspoken question. "And I want breakfast."

"But they'll know we—"

"Spent a night together, talking." He winked. "They won't ground us. We still kept our side of the bargain—no marking. Have some sleep, baby. Love you."

When the door closed behind Jack, I fell into a light morning slumber mingled with vivid memories of our night.

Chapter Forty

Astrid

MY TRAINING STARTED THE FOLLOWING morning, six o'clock sharp. Takeshi waited for me with a bundle in his hands. He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and black cotton pants.

"Change into this, please," he said and threw me the clothes.

It was the same garment he wore. We were almost the same height and his clothes fit me perfectly.

We had one of the big ground level rooms at our convenience. The furniture and carpets had been removed the night before.

Takeshi started with a short introduction to Japanese martial arts. "Budō, the way of war, and bujutsu, the science of war are the essential terms—"

"Like theory and practice?"

"If you have to simplify it, then yes. As you know, martial arts aren't a recreational physical activity; they're a way of life that constantly improves your physical, spiritual, intellectual and moral dimensions." He stopped for a moment, clearing his throat. "Unfortunately, our time is limited, so in spite of my resentment toward this ankle-deep kind of training, I'll give you some basic fighting techniques. I hope that you'll catch the spiritual dimension down the road. You're probably the only person who I would agree to train this way. But I understand you have to have alternative ways to defend yourself."

So far, that was the longest speech that I'd heard from this quiet, serious young man. My attempts from last night to start a conversation with him had resulted in one-syllable answers.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

We started with some basic aikido: lots of striking, throwing and joint locking. "I'll show you a different way to use the energy you already possess," Takeshi said. "This technique requires not as much physical strength as mental abilities, so you should be fine. The goal is to predict the motion of the opponent and neutralize the attack before it even occurs rather than waste energy fighting it."

"In other words, I have to learn to think like my opponent?"

"You unnecessarily simplify things, Astrid. Maybe _feel_ or _breathe_ like your opponent would better describe the notion. Use your natural energy flow, but not more than that. No wizard tricks, please."

The first day was a disaster. I couldn't grasp what Takeshi wanted from me. I could not please him, and he would ask me to endlessly repeat a single movement.

By the end of the session, I was tired and frustrated, and I didn't try to hide it.

Takeshi looked unruffled. "Same time tomorrow," was all he said.

THE FIRST "LESSON" WITH MORGAINE was way more pleasant. We sat in the family room and talked. She wanted to know about me: my childhood, studies, job. My blaidd benywaidd and her behavior. Then she mentioned my martial arts training.

"I'll tell you why I insisted on it."

"Jack mentioned that I couldn't use my energy in pregnancy."

"That's right. We don't know how much energy is safe to use—nobody wants to experiment with it. See, I had to use my energy when I was pregnant. Lots of it. It didn't do any harm to my baby. Yet I couldn't know that before Leary, my daughter, was born. It was a nightmare. I couldn't think about anything else. That's why I believe you need to have some means to protect yourself if necessary."

"Why did you need to use energy?"

She shook her head. "It was one of those impossible situations when you have to make a choice between bad and worse. I'll tell you one day."

"Werewolf women can't shapeshift in pregnancy, but we're wizardesses as well," I said. "Our females can safely use their skills in pregnancy. I don't think we're so vulnerable. It wouldn't be logical."

"I agree, but as I said, no ellida will deliberately use the energy in pregnancy only to prove that. Seth has a vicious mind. He might just wait for you to get pregnant to try something stupid again. It's wise to know some human defense techniques. They can't harm you because they don't require the energy we use. You need the power of your muscles. And your brain, of course. Martial arts are mastered more with your mind than with your body. At least that's what young Master Takeshi says."

Martial arts training made sense. And then it didn't at all. "Humans are no match for werewolves or wizards, no matter how well they're trained."

"Do not underestimate human abilities," the ellida said. "Take, for example, samurai fighting skills. They're not inferior to those of wizards or werewolves. You should see Takeshi's father, Master Hayato, fighting."

"Well, no matter how hard he tries, Takeshi isn't going to make a samurai out of me."

"You'd be amazed what he could make out of you, Astrid, given time and your willingness to experiment," the ellida said lightly, then, without pausing, changing the tone of her voice, stirred the conversation into a different and unexpected direction. "I want to talk to you about something else. Your mother."

My breath caught. "Why? Did something happen? Is she okay?"

"She is," the ellida said, her voice softening into an affectionate croon. Her eyes locked with mine. "Your mother is a good person. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. She doesn't have anything to do with your father and Brian Canagan's demises. Your mother is among the few people who know exactly what happened twenty-five years ago and why."

I held her gaze. "You know, too."

At first, I thought she wouldn't answer. Her eyes slanted, adopting a distant look, and for a long moment, she was far away, in another time and another place. "Yes," she finally said in a soft voice, almost a whisper. "I know, but I can't tell."

"I need to know," I said, frustrated. "I'm tired of secrets."

"The truth will come to light. That's why you're here," Morgaine said, the lightness filling her voice once more. "It's not a prophecy or anything like that. You're an ellida; you'll restore balance. Much happier times await us. Now tell me about your transformations."

I answered Morgaine's questions, but my thoughts and my heart were with my mother.

THE NEXT DAY TAKESHI AND I met outside and walked to the Mohegan's big backyard secured from prying eyes by a Talsyn Morgaine had put up earlier.

In his hand, Takeshi held up wooden swords. "We'll try with kenjutsu," he said.

"What about aikido?"

"Despite your admirable mental and spiritual capabilities, you might not be able to learn aikido. And I think I know why." He threw me one sword.

"Why?" I asked catching it.

"As I said, you have to blend with the motion of your opponent, feel like him, become him. By your nature, however, you're a defender, not an attacker, so you cannot feel like one. Make sense?"

"No."

"I didn't think it would. Never mind. Kenjutsu might work better for you, I think. Later we'll also include kyudo, the art of the bow, at your training."

This time I just shrugged. I'd probably suck at kenjutsu as well.

Yet, to my delight, kenjutsu was a lot more fun. I liked the feeling of the wooden handle in my hands. My grasp was natural, my movements fluid. Takeshi didn't say much, but his expression told me he was pleased.

Time flew that morning, and when we finished, I caught myself waiting for my next lesson.

EAMON HAD HIS OWN AGENDA with me. He'd stopped openly pressing me to start singing with the band, choosing a subtler approach.

In the evening we would go to his studio in the basement, a good-sized room with formidable soundproofing and solid equipment. It was divided into two parts: a studio and a smaller control room.

"Jack helped me to buy this," he said to me one day, proudly waving toward the smaller glass space with a mixing console, multitrack recorder, microphones, monitors and keyboards.

"Do you compose songs for your band?" I asked, looking around the studio.

"Most of them. We play and record our demos here. We don't have big ambitions, we just like playing some very noisy and raw rock'n'roll." He looked at me. "As for our weekend nights at Goblin's Hollow, we can play anything, but we really need a female singer."

Ah.

I'd expected him to pursue that line of conversation, but my cunning young cousin knew better than that. He asked me if I wanted to listen to some instrumental music he'd composed and towed me towards the stereo equipment.

"I'm fascinated with ethnic music," he'd said. "Recently I experimented with different ethnic sounds. I tried to combine them into something universal. Wanna hear?"

It was a completely unexpected yet harmonious mixture with the heavy, complex 7/8 and 9/16 rhythms of South Balkan drums and wind instruments, combined with lighter Celtic threads.

I was impressed. "Wow. Fantastic!"

He beamed. "Really?"

"Really. I love it."

"Yeah. I think it's good. Still, it's nice to hear it from someone else."

Eamon's passion for composing was similar to mine for singing, and after a few evenings in his studio, I started giving his offer some serious thought.

Chapter Forty-One

Astrid

ONE MORNING AFTER BREAKFAST, Morgaine said to me, "Let's go outside. "I want you to show me what you can do."

It was a sunny day, and we took a long stroll through the town and across the fields covered with snow until we reached the small semicircular clearing at the beginning of a forest that thickened toward the Great Orme.

"That'll do," Morgaine said, and then effortlessly threw up a Talsyn powerful enough to make us invisible to accidental passersby—human, gwerin and gwerin y blaidd alike.

In the following thirty minutes, I demonstrated some of my abilities: I threw energy bolts and levitated fallen branches, created illusions, lifted her Talsyn and instantly cast mine, equally strong. I translocated, although not far. I made a tiny blizzard using the snow that lay around in abundance and moved the tops of the trees producing a howling, stormy wind.

Morgaine didn't comment. She just nodded after each of my actions.

"Now, let's see how you fight," she said and started casting spells. She would fire blue-green light balls, and I would bring them down. She would make the wind, and I would stop it. She raised the snow from the ground and shaped it into a ferocious mini-twister, and I bent it into a sparkling rainbow.

As the rainbow disappeared into a pot of gold that I'd created at its end, the ellida's soft laugh filled the air. "I liked that very much, Astrid. I like the way you perceive things. Brilliant."

I let out a deep sigh. "Thank you, Ellida."

"Your energy's strong even though you didn't have a chance to use it a lot. You tore down my Talsyn with no trouble. You can translocate. I hear you can cast the Fire Spell. Only the most powerful wizards can do these three things."

"My skills with metal aren't great."

"Neither are mine, but that's not unusual. Male wizards are generally better with metal than female." She pulled out a three-inch nail from her pocket and offered it to me.

"What would you like me to do with it?" I asked.

"Whatever you can."

I took it from her palm and bent it with my fingers. I tied it in a bow. It snapped in the middle and then I forged the two broken pieces together, like the axle of Graeme's truck.

The ellida took the nail from my hands and threw it on the snow. "Pick it up, but don't levitate it. Use your energy to draw it to your hand, like a magnet."

I couldn't do it. I could make it float, hop and dance toward my hand, but I couldn't drag it to my hand.

"This is the hardest thing to do. You should work on that. Once you master it, everything else will be a piece of cake."

"How? What should I do?"

She shrugged. "It's not something I can teach you how to do. Just practice directing and redirecting your energy. This will activate your magnetic field or make you use the earth's magnetism for your purpose."

ON OUR WAY BACK, I noticed a coffee shop on the main street. It sported a big, neon blue sign above the door: _Café Insomnia._

"How about a cup of coffee?" I asked.

"Good idea. Let people see you. Let them talk to you. You are a good-natured, uncomplicated person. They'll love you."

We found a small round table for two. The café personnel and guests came to introduce themselves or to say hello. They were curious but friendly, and the knot in my stomach eased off.

"I don't know anything about being an ellida," I said to Morgaine when we were alone. "They'll figure it out."

"It's both complex and very simple. Complex because it's a great responsibility and responsibilities should never be taken lightly. Simple because all you need to do is to accept it. Or better, _own_ it. After that, everything falls into its place. Easily, naturally. You don't need to do this or that; you just _are_. Everything else comes from that."

"It'd be much easier if there was some manual on how to be an ellida."

Morgaine chuckled. "Oh yes. With a multiple choice test at the end of it. If it was easy, there would be many ellidas, not only a handful. We can do it because we represent the harmonious unity of two very different races—werewolves and wizards." She tilted her head and looked at me. "Did I scare you?"

"A bit."

"Okay, I can give you some examples. People will come to you with their problems, big and small. You'll help them with your wisdom, your innate sense of justice, and your understanding of human nature. You'll fix what is broken, balance what's unbalanced. It's in you. Your people will share their happy moments with you. Sad, too. You'll make them more bearable. You'll have a whole bunch of godchildren, and you'll be an honorable member of many local clubs and charities. And being a doctor, you'll help them heal, when necessary. How does it sound?"

"Better. I'll be a confidante, a marriage counselor, a confessor, a psychologist, all in one. Got it."

"There will be some tough decisions to make every now and then. She paused and then carried on in the same light voice, "You're also the clan's war leader, did I mention it? But don't fret. It's only a ceremonial title."

"What?"

"Why of course! We are the strongest, and the smartest members of our clans, and being women, not so bloodthirsty."

Now I needed some time to process that information. I was the Commander-in-Chief. No kidding. From all the concepts thrown at me in the last month or so, this one was the weirdest.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on for a second!" I said in a high-pitched voice. "I'm a pacifist. I don't believe in fighting. We're supposed to bring harmony and prosperity. We are _make-love-not-war_ sort of people, aren't we?"

"I know it sounds a bit contradictory, but imagine, for example, that Seth's clan decides to take over your land and destroy your people. What would you do?"

"Fight them," I said, without thinking twice.

"Precisely."

If only life could be that simple. "What if Copper Ridge had an ellida?"

"The clans that have ellidas never fight among themselves. Knowing that, you can better understand why ellidas are so precious. They're an embodiment of a higher, spiritual concept of love and peace. As long as Seth's in power, no ellida will be born in Copper Ridge. Once he's gone, they may get their chance."

I GOT A CHANCE TO test my ability to spread love and peace sooner than I'd expected. When Peyton Kincaid walked in a little bit later, I asked her if she wanted to join us. As we talked, I attacked the green-eyed monster gnawing inside my stomach with logic and reason. Peyton was in love with Jack, but it was hardly a surprise. Who wouldn't be? Both of us couldn't have the same man, though. I loved him, and he was my bond mate, so he was mine.

I didn't want Peyton to feel unhappy and sad. I didn't want her to hate me. I wanted her to become Jack's friend. And mine, for that matter.

Hmm, it wouldn't be easy, but damn if I wouldn't give it a try.

By the way she watched Peyton and me talking, I guessed the ellida knew about Peyton and Jack's relationship. She also seemed to know my thoughts.

When Peyton left, she looked at me with a smile. "See? This is what it means to be an ellida. It's not that difficult, is it?"

EAMON WAS IN THE SITTING room when we returned. He was grinning.

"Come," he grabbed my hand. "Close your eyes."

He dragged me to the garage. I heard the light switch. I sniffed the air: it smelled of a new car, indeed. "They've just delivered your new car."

Jack's promised present—a car that would suit my personality.

"Now turn and open your eyes," Eamon said.

A wide smile split my face. According to Jack, my four-wheeler match was a Ferrari. Red.

I laughed happily as I walked around it, touching its smooth, shiny body. My match was fast, powerful and sexy. I opened the driver's door and found an envelope on the seat.

Hope you like the color. They don't make them in pink. Love, Jack.

"Man, this is awesome!" Eamon said "My brother must be crazy about you. By the way, Dad just phoned. He and Jack are coming back tomorrow."

Uncle James and Jack had traveled to Scotland, to meet with Darius Withali. Jack had expected a lot from that trip.

"Let's go for a ride, Eamon!" I said, delighted with the news of Jack's return. One more sleep!

We hopped in. The keys were in the ignition. The powerful engine purred as I turned it over. Eamon was as ecstatic as I was.

Having Eamon in the passenger seat, I didn't want to drive too fast, although the mighty engine begged for more, and my foot ached to press the accelerator. I didn't want to drive through town, so I turned until I hit the highway that gently sloped down toward the south. It was dusk and there was almost no traffic.

After twenty minutes I turned the car and we drove back to the house. I was already in love with my red beauty.

Chapter Forty-Two

Jack

IT WAS EARLY MORNING WHEN James and I returned from our trip. I knocked on Astrid's door and peeked in. She wasn't in bed, but the sound of the shower and soft humming told me where she was.

"Jack!" She squeaked when she came out, wrapped in her bathrobe. She threw herself into my outstretched arms.

"Did you miss me?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her.

"Very much," she said, reaching for my lips.

I inhaled the flowery, feminine scent I'd learned to love so quickly. "Do you like your new car?"

"Of course I like it! But a Ferrari, Jack! It's too expensive. It's—"

"Don't be silly," I said and silenced any further comments with a kiss.

"Tell me about your trip. Did you see Darius?" she asked when our lips parted.

I took her hand in mine and kissed her palm. "Yes. As we suspected, there is a strong underground resistance movement in Copper Ridge, but there's been an interesting development. Darius works from outside, providing help and support." I took a deep breath. "The key player is your mother."

Astrid paled. "My mother? God, what if Seth finds out?"

"She'll be okay, she knows who she's dealing with. She's careful; Seth still doesn't know. Maybe it's better if I start from the beginning. Come, sit here with me."

She let me walk her to her bed and help her sit down. I took a deep breath and exhaled. "Your mother left your father and went to Copper Ridge with you. It didn't take her long to realize what kind of man Seth was. She tried to leave, but he didn't let her. Your mother sent you back to Red Cliffs. She planned to leave, too, with Darius. Seth found out and blackmailed her to stay. He sent Darius away and said he'd kill him if she ever tried to escape. Rowena managed to convince him to bring the boy back. For the first several years she was under home arrest. Later she didn't want to leave—for many people she was the only hope that things would change. Besides, she's the only person able to somewhat control Seth's mind."

I stopped, alarmed. Every drop of blood drained from Astrid's face. I pulled her to my chest and held her tight.

"Has he abused her?" she whispered.

He had. Rowena had lived through terrible times. And survived.

I kissed the crown of Astrid's head. "She's capable of protecting herself. She's a werewolf as well as a wizardess."

Astrid lifted her head. "What? Did he turn her after all?"

"It wasn't him. One of her friends did it." I brushed her lips with mine. "It was easy because she was a mother to a half-werewolf. Your mother's very powerful now, Astrid. Very strong."

"Does Seth know?"

"Yes, but by the time he knew, it was already done." I couldn't tell Astrid that Seth almost killed Rowena when he'd learned about it. It'd been only a day after the change, she was weak and vulnerable. Yet not only had she survived but she emerged a blaidd benywaidd so powerful that Seth had never touched her again.

"She didn't do it to make herself stronger," Astrid said and shivered. "By becoming a she-wolf, she eliminated any chance for giving birth to a future ellida. Or a future mad man."

"I think so, too." It'd been a risky and brave decision.

Astrid rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if to warm herself. "Poor Darius, he still doesn't know if he will become like his father."

I hooked my finger beneath her chin and made her look at my eyes. "He will not, Astrid. He _cannot_. Darius isn't Seth's biological son. Morgaine thinks Seth is sterile."

Just before our trip to Scotland, Morgaine had told James and me that Darius's mother had already been pregnant from someone else when she married Seth. Did he know? I wouldn't be surprised if he did. It wouldn't matter, not in our world. The moment he'd married Darius's mother, the baby was considered his child. He would keep that knowledge to himself, though.

"So, my mother didn't need to be turned. Oh, God. At least, Darius must be relieved."

I cleared my throat. "He still doesn't know. Morgaine asked us not to tell him."

Astrid jumped to her feet and started pacing the room. "Then she'll tell him, right?"

I wasn't that sure. For some reason, the ellida needed Darius to believe he was Seth's son. "Eventually, he'll know."

Astrid walked to the window and looked outside. "For my entire life I believed my mother abandoned me," she said quietly. "My grandparents have to know some of this. Why didn't they tell me anything? How could they hide that from me?"

I stood up and joined her. "You must not blame them, Astrid. Your mother had Ella and Gottfried swear not to tell you the truth. Now it would be wrong to keep anything from you. You're here now, you know who you are. That's what I think."

"But not my uncle."

"James and I had a fight. He didn't want you to know about the meeting with Darius and what we learned about your mother. Not for the time being, because he thought you would be upset and concerned for your mother's safety. I thought you had to know."

She sighed. "Thank you, Jack. It means the world to me."

"It was your mother who tipped off Tristan when Seth sent his people to look for you," I said, looking at Astrid's bluish reflection in the windowpane. "And about the Tel-Urughs who attacked us. That's why Liv and Tristan came so fast."

"He'll kill her if he figures out what she's doing."

"He won't. He stays away from her. I believe he's afraid of her. Besides, the resistance in Copper Ridge is stronger day by day; they're tired of Seth's madness. Darius is coming back. It's going to be over soon."

"What does my uncle say about all this?" Astrid said. "Was he ready to hear my mother was a hero, not a villain?"

I smirked. "Oh, that was funny. He expressed his doubts. The next moment Darius was on him. I had to pull them apart."

She found my eyes in the window. "Good. I'm glad he protected her honor. You believe Darius, do you? Without any doubt?"

"Absolutely. But try to understand James. He also wants to protect you."

A tear slid down her cheek. Then another one. Then another one. She cried without a sound.

I turned her and closed my arms around her.

"It's going to be okay, you'll see," I murmured into her hair. "I promise."

She looked up at me, and smiled, her eyes shiny with tears. "I believe you, Jack Canagan. You're not a man who'd make empty promises."

Chapter Forty-Three

Astrid

THE FOLLOWING DAY I WAS invited to the High Council special session as a guest. I would be introduced to the captains, the heads of twelve Red Cliffs houses, who formed the High Council I would soon preside over.

But that was not all. This session had been called for a very specific reason: today, the current einhamir of Red Cliffs would officially step down and the new one would be appointed.

Uncle and I arrived fifteen minutes before the beginning of the session. The High Council's meetings were held in the so-called "Oak Chamber", a rustic, big, wood-paneled room on the main floor of the City Hall building. It was windowless, lit by a huge brass chandelier and a dozen wall lamps. A fire blazed in a stone fireplace, wrapping the Oak Chamber in a warm, reddish glow.

The room was empty. I looked around. A circular table and twelve chairs, with carved wolf heads on the top of their high backs. The thirteenth chair, bigger and taller than the rest, but without carving, stood aside, on the small platform near the fireplace.

"This will be your seat, Astrid," my uncle said then pointed to the back of the chair. "Your sigil will be added once you become the ellida—the moon made out of silver, about this size," he made a circle with his fingers, some ten inches in diameter, "with a she-wolf head carved in its center." He made a low chuckle. "Your wizard kind came up with the design, I believe."

"The same symbol that is carved on the hilt of the Eid Rýtingur," I said, remembering Jack's story about the famous dagger that the wizard king Elgar had forged long ago to honor the alliance between wizards and wolf-people.

"The table has to be finished as well," my uncle said, gesturing at it.

Like the chairs, the table was made of high-polished wood. In its centre there was a half-inch-deep circular indent. The same sigil, only bigger, would be inserted there, Uncle James explained. The tabletop stood on the back of twelve wolves—the thirteenth would be carved out in the middle out of the crude piece of wood that supported its centre.

"The table and the chairs were made when you were born," he said, then added with a smile, "Save for the last few details. The protocol requires that we wait until you announce your decision."

"Then it's time to finish them," I said, touched by Red Cliffs trust in my destiny.

"It is, my child," my uncle said and kissed my forehead.

ONE BY ONE, THE COUNCIL members started arriving. Jack came in last. My uncle introduced me to everyone, then proceeded to conduct the official part of the ceremony.

It'd been a short but memorable event.

Uncle James told me to go and stand beside the fireplace. Jack took his place on the platform, and the eleven captains and my uncle stood around the table, facing him.

Moving his gaze from one captain to another, James Mohegan, the formidable, authoritative and wise leader of Red Cliffs, addressed his council for the last time as its einhamir.

"Twenty-five years ago, you asked me to be the clan's einhamir until Jack Canagan was ready to take the position offered to him after his father's death. I accepted it, promising to pass it on to him when the time came. I kept my promise."

His eyes turned back to Jack. "John William from House Canagan, son of Brian and Eve, do you receive the position of the einhamir of Red Cliffs?"

From his place on the platform, Jack's head bowed slightly. "I do, Einhamir."

One more time James addressed his guests in his strong voice. "Does anyone among you challenge this ordain?"

Eleven pairs of eyes fixed on Jack in silent acceptance.

James nodded. "Then I'm asking each of you to follow my suit and swear your loyalty to your new einhamir."

With hand fisted over his heart, he slightly bowed his head and said in a firm voice, first in English, then in the Old Language "I, James Mohegan, the captain of House Canagan, pledge my allegiance to you, Einhamir John William."

One by one, the captains did the same.

The final part of the ceremony took place that evening in the forest outside the town. The captains, my uncle and Jack turned into werewolves. One by one, the three blaidd benywaidds and eight blaidds stood in front of Jack and bowed their heads.

KNOWING TRISTAN AND LIV WERE back in Seattle and in daily contact with my grandparents and Ingmar gave me peace of mind to adjust to my new life.

I didn't see much of Jack. When he was in Red Cliffs, the new einhamir was busier than ever. He traveled less than before, but every once in a while, he and my uncle would go somewhere. Sometimes they would be away for only a day, some other times for a week.

Maggie, Jack's sister, came home for spring break from Austin, where she was studying civil engineering at the University of Texas. Tall, lithe, with wavy light brown hair and amber eyes, she resembled her mother and older brother. She was quiet and reserved, not unlike me.

It came as a surprise how fast we became close.

"I DON'T WANT TO STAY here," she told me one afternoon while we prepared dinner. To tell the truth, Maggie was in charge, I was only helping, peeling potatoes. Eve was in her office upstairs—she was the Millennium Properties chief accountant. Eamon was at school, Jack and Uncle James out of town.

"Why?" I asked although I could list dozens of reasons why a young, smart and educated woman wouldn't want to live in a small town.

"I want to go wherever my job takes me. I want to travel. I want to see the world. The human world is so interesting."

"Nothing's wrong with that. You're young; you have plenty of time for everything."

She lifted her head and set her amber gaze on me. "You're young, too."

I dropped a peeled potato into a bowl with cold water and grabbed another one from the bag to take the skin off. We were making mashed potatoes from scratch. "I traveled," I said. "A bit. One day I will travel again."

"You are our ellida. And you and Jack are bond mates. Your options are limited."

"I've chosen to come here. Nobody forced me."

Maggie opened the fridge and took out some lettuce. "As if you could choose not to. Or choose not to be bonded. You were lucky. My brother's handsome, healthy, smart. From your clan. Someone who's easy to love. Imagine being bonded, or even falling in love with a man who isn't, or someone you can't have." She paused. "Anyway, bonding isn't on my wish list."

I gave Maggie a sidelong glance. There was more to this. "If you bond to someone, it means you're destined to be together, regardless of the obstacles. Are we talking about someone specific?"

She shook her head, too quickly. "I was talking hypothetically." Then she changed the subject. "Eamon said you might start singing at Goblin's Hollow."

"Maybe. You used to sing with the band. What did you sing? Any advice?"

"Pop, light rock, jazz, blues. Some country on Saturday nights. People usually show you what they want you to sing on a particular evening. You scan the audience before you start. If you see lots of girls, give them love songs. Girls and couples come on Saturday. Fridays can be pretty raw. The boys from the band can play anything, but they tend to avoid some 'girly' songs. What do you like to sing?"

"Girly songs," I said with a chuckle and plopped a potato into the bowl. "Also pop, jazz, blues, '80s music. I don't mind singing country either."

"Boy, they're going to love ya! You have a great voice, I heard."

"I do. But I haven't made up my mind about singing at Goblin's Hollow."

"I would if I were you. You'd learn more about local people singing on weekend nights at Goblin's Hollow than sitting in their living rooms. Did you know that Jack used to play bass guitar with the guys?"

"He mentioned it."

"He still does it from time to time. Don't be surprised if he just shows up on stage one evening. He's good, and the crowd's always been crazy about him. Can you imagine it?"

"Oh, yeah. I can easily imagine it. Especially on Saturday nights."

Chapter Forty-Four

Astrid

LESS THAN A WEEK BEFORE my transformation, Jack said he had to leave again to meet with Darius, promising he'd do his best to be back before my change.

It was supposed to be my last "scheduled" transformation. Next month Jack would help me connect my spirits before I turned. If everything went smoothly, I'd be able to shift on my own will after that.

I was tired and moody. Even more so when I realized my family had a plan on how to help me through the shifting.

And as if the approaching transformation wasn't enough trouble, I'd decided it would be a perfect time to become friends with Peyton Kincaid.

As an ellida, I was supposed to bring harmony, prosperity and balance, I told myself. If my presence would make Peyton's life miserable, then something was wrong with that very concept. Could we be friends, in spite of everything? Our unexpected encounter at the café a few days ago had been cordial, if not friendly. It was a good start, wasn't it?

The very next day we bumped into each other on the street during her lunch break.

"I'm going to Paganini. Want to join me?" she said.

I nodded and followed her into the small Italian restaurant across the street. Peyton ordered pasta carbonara, I settled for cheese ravioli. As we waited for our food to arrive, we sat in silence.

I tried to think of what to say, and when my brain came up with nothing, I simply wanted to leave. Peyton seemed to be wrestling with similar thoughts.

And then it got worse.

"I don't even know why I invited you," Peyton said, breaking the silence. "I don't like you. I know that you and Jack are a couple. Everybody knows."

God, I wasn't ready for that line of conversation.

"I can leave if you want," I said, my cheeks burning.

"Jack was everything I'd ever wanted," she continued quietly, as if unaware of my words. "I hoped... Doesn't matter what I hoped for. You showed up and put an end to my hopes."

I couldn't utter a word, couldn't find a single coherent thought in my head. I just sat, quiet.

Then I took a deep breath. Well, if she could be so bold, so could I. "It wasn't even my choice. We are bond mates, Peyton. It happened."

She didn't look shocked, or she had impressive self-control. "Bond mates, then? I thought you might be."

"Nobody knows, nobody should know for a while, so please don't tell anyone."

She arched her eyebrow, but I could see a hint of a smile on her lips. "You trust _me_ with your secret?"

"Yes."

She smirked. "I hate you sometimes, you know."

For some reason it made me smile and relax. It was so frank. And at the same time, she didn't mean a word of it.

Our order arrived, preventing me from replying.

"No, you don't," I said when the server left. I grabbed the pepper shaker to season my pasta. "You're not a person who can hate anyone. Otherwise the Mohegans—and Jack, by the way—wouldn't think of you as family."

The almost invisible tugging of her lips from a moment ago turned into a smile. Lopsided, but still. "What do you want us to be? BFFs who just happen to love the same man? And you'd better stop with that pepper."

I placed the shaker in the holder and looked down at my pasta covered with a thin, black layer of pepper. "Do you still love him?"

Peyton took her glass and drank some water. "I don't know. I've known Jack my entire life. He means a lot to me."

"This doesn't need to change."

Her blue eyes locked with mine. "You think?"

I held her gaze. "Yes. And I'm sorry I hurt you, Peyton."

She sighed. "Darn. I know. That's the one reason why I'm doing this. Besides the fact that you're our ellida. I can't be mad at an ellida, can I now?"

"Absolutely not," I said with a wide smile.

"See, my options are limited. Oh, well. Let's eat now."

We dug into our plates. We kept our conversation on the safe ground of small, neutral topics. Books, music, fashion. Travels. She'd been in Italy a few years ago, she said, and I wondered if she had been there with Jack. Ashamed, I pushed such thoughts back.

I told her about my difficult transformations and how I missed my job, my grandparents and my friends.

One hour later, before we parted, I asked her, "What's the true reason you're doing this?"

"You're right, the Mohegans are like my family. I can't afford to lose them. I don't want them to choose between you and me. You're their blood and you are the clan's ellida. I can't win this battle. But I do have a place in their hearts, and I want to stay there. Besides, you seem okay, except, well, you know... How about you? Why are you doing this?"

"If I'm a true ellida, I shouldn't be hurting you. There must be a way to deal with it. That's supposed to be my job here, to find solutions for such problems. If my presence causes you pain, then maybe I shouldn't be here at all. And besides, you seem okay, except, well, you know," I repeated her words with a smile. "I need you to like me. I need your friendship. I don't want to usurp your place in our family. There must be room there for both of us."

She smiled warily and nodded. "It's not gonna be easy, but it's worth a try," she said, vocalizing, almost word for word, the thought I'd had after we'd bumped at each other at Café Insomnia _._

IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, Peyton and I established a fragile equilibrium in our relationship. We avoided talks that could challenge that fine balance.

Beyond her tiny, girlish appearance, I quickly found a courageous young woman who fought her own battles, in spite of her emotional insecurity and sensitivity. She was intelligent, charming, with a fine sense of humor, a loyal, devoted friend. Her description nicely fit another person I knew well. Me.

I UPDATED MY RESUME AND emailed it to the Red Cliffs Health Center. The next day Dr. Falkenstein, the CEO, phoned to invite me to an informal interview. "One of our ER doctors is retiring," he said. "Her position will be posted on our website next week. Keep an eye on it."

My heart jumped. An ER job would be perfect. I could pick night shifts, which would leave me enough time for my mornings with Takeshi, afternoons with the ellida and evenings with Eamon.

BY THE END OF THE week, I was too weak to continue with my training. The pain became increasingly stronger. My skin was hot. Even the softest clothes irritated me.

I was angry with Jack for not being there. I missed Liv and Tristan, my faithful companioDns during numerous changes. My family's concerns annoyed me. I wanted to be alone, but they wouldn't let me out of their sight.

To cheer me up, Maggie organized a spa party. Uncle James, Eamon and Takeshi had been ordered to go fishing, and we had a whole day for ourselves. "It's nothing special. Mom and I do it from time to time," Maggie said. "We send the men out, and then we turn the living room into a beauty parlor. Later we make sandwiches, drink wine and watch movies."

"Can we invite Peyton?" I asked.

"I was about to ask if you minded if we did. Sure, phone her."

Despite my miserable physical state, it turned out to be lots of fun. There were five of us: Eve, Maggie, Morgaine, Peyton and me. We chatted and laughed, manicured and pedicured each other. I was the only exception because of my skin sensitivity. Peyton emerged from the bathroom with a box full of curlers, gels, hair sprays and brushes. "Go wash your hair," she ordered. I smiled and went to the washroom. Thirty minutes later, I looked in the mirror, delighted with my 1960s retro ponytail.

"My turn," Peyton said. She picked a thick lock of her beautiful curly hair. "Can you straighten it?"

"Yes, with my witch powers, not with the brushes and hairdryer," I said.

"Then use it, please. I don't mind my curls, but sometimes I want my hair straight."

"Alright then." I grabbed a chair and placed it in front of the floor mirror Maggie had brought down from her room earlier. "Have a seat."

I gently combed my fingers through her curls, sending subtle waves of energy through them. I did it with my hair when I fancied having it smooth. In no time, Peyton's shoulder-length curls hung sleek and flat down the middle of her back.

"Yay! Splendid!" she said, turning her head left and right to take a better look. "How long is it going to last?"

"Until you wash it. Ask me whenever you want to have it straight, I'll do it for you."

"Oh, you can count on that!"

INSTEAD OF MAKING SANDWICHES, WE grilled steaks so that I could get enough protein, went through a few bottles of wine and watched a popular vampire/werewolf movie with our feet propped up on stools and faces stiff under thick layers of white, creamy masks. I'd let Maggie apply one on my face in spite of my hypersensitivity. She'd put a few drops of mint oil into the mixture, and it soothed my hot skin.

Looking at the TV screen and trying to minimize her facial muscles' movement, Maggie murmured, "If only we could turn so fast like those guys." Then she suddenly turned to me. A chuckle slipped out, and the white crust cracked. " _You_ can, can't you?"

"Well, yes, but it hurts. My goal is to learn how to slow it down," I said, cracking a smile that in return cracked my own mask. "Besides, I don't know how I do that. I don't remember a thing."

"I'm looking forward to seeing it. It must be spectacular."

"I think it's better if nobody's around me," I said, looking hopefully at Eve and Morgaine.

"If Jack isn't here, James wants one of us to stay with you."

"No!" I yelled in horror. "No way!"

Unruffled by my reaction, Eve continued, "But I have another plan. And it doesn't involve men. Only us."

Morgaine smiled gently and squeezed my hand. "It's going to be fine, Astrid. We won't let you down."

Oh, God.

Chapter Forty-Five

Astrid

CONFRONTED BY A UNITED FRONT of two strong-willed Mohegan women (Eve and Maggie), an ellida and her apprentice (Morgaine and I) and an honorary family member (Peyton), James couldn't do anything else but agree to Eve's plan. The newly formed Sisterhood of the Full Moon, as Maggie had named us, would come to my house and stay there with me until the transformation was over.

A day before, Eve and Maggie had made the house ready. Now the big living room sported my beige sofa from Rosenthal, with a pile of pink cushions and blankets neatly arranged in the corner, and two matching armchairs. There were two older winged chairs as well, probably some remnants of my parents' furnishings, along with the coffee table and several other mismatched pieces. The fridge was stuffed with food and drink: water for me, soft drinks for my companions. They'd also brought in a TV, an old Blu-ray player, and a pile of movies and magazines.

I reclined on the couch, wrapped myself in the blanket and filled them in on the details of the first stage of my transformation. "Is it too much if I ask for privacy when I change?" I asked.

"One of us should stay with you all the time," Morgaine said. "You pick."

I shrugged. One of them or all of them, what was the difference? "Oh, forget it. Enjoy the show."

Every cell in my body hurt. The soft cotton blanket felt heavy and prickly. I was hot and my breathing was ragged. The physical symptoms seemed more severe than last time.

Last time Jack had been with me. He'd held me and that eased the pain. Where was he now?

" _Guess what, Miss Spock,"_ I heard my wolf's voice. " _He's not coming. We're on our own."_

" _I wondered when you'd show up._ _Behave yourself_ , _"_ I ordered her silently. _"Peyton's here."_

" _Why did you invite her in the first place?"_

" _She's a part of this family._ Our _family."_

" _Sometimes I don't understand you at all, Miss Spock."_

" _Likewise. Don't talk about Jack, do you hear me? I know you miss him, but just don't talk about him. Okay? Miss him silently."_

My wolf made an angry growl. _"This is the last time I'm doing this. Better tell him to do his part before the next full moon! Damn it, Astrid, we must connect. It's getting dangerous to stay like this, in two parts. I'm not sure how long I can handle it."_

" _You're handling it fine. I would say better than ever."_

" _Make sure this is the last time we're doing this. I'm tired of keeping both of us under control."_

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. She'd been keeping _me_ under control. Seriously?

"Next time," I said weakly. "I promise. And you promise to behave."

"What, Astrid?" Maggie asked, concerned.

"I've just reminded my wolf about 'behavior expectations' in the next two days. Ellida, don't let her get carried away."

" _I don't need your 'code of conduct', Miss Spock."_

" _I'm sorry if I offended you. You're the one who carries us both through the change every time. I know that."_

Peyton moved to the sofa and sat on the opposite end. "Let me hold your hand. My energy can relieve the pain a bit."

My wolf made an ugly smirk, but I managed a tiny smile. "Thank you," I said and touched Peyton's fingers. She was right. The pain lessened a bit.

Peyton winced as our skins brushed but didn't pull her hand away. "God, you're burning! You sure that's okay? Do you want some water?"

"No, thanks. I could eat, though."

"Maggie, let's make supper," Eve said. "Is sautéed beef liver okay, Astrid?"

"With bacon and onions, yes, please."

"Is there anything else we can do for you?" Peyton asked, gently stroking my hand. "It doesn't look like we're much help here."

"You are. I'm glad I'm not alone," I said, closing my eyes. "And your touch soothes me. Just stay here."

"Are you going to be fine?" Peyton asked, her voice filled with concern.

I nodded, or I thought I had. My eyelids felt so heavy.

"She'll be okay," I heard Morgaine say. "I had similar experiences before my spirits got linked."

With a great effort, I lifted my head. "Tell me about it, Ellida," I said slowly. Even my voice sounded tortured. "I can't compare my symptoms with anyone else's because no one else I know went through this."

Morgaine smiled. "Only ellidas sometimes. Well, it was easier for me. My spirits got connected shortly after the first few changes. But I remember the pain. You've been dropped in the deep end. You've been doing it for—how long—three years? And it's getting worse. You must have them linked as soon as possible."

I nodded, closed my eyes again and dove into another shallow drowse.

"What would happen if they didn't connect?" I heard Peyton's voice again sometime later.

"They always do, although for Astrid it's taking unusually long. During the full moon, Astrid's in an estrous phase. This is actually pseudo-estrus because conceiving is not possible for us in wolf form, but all other symptoms of heat are there. Among wolves, estrus occurs once a year, during the mating season. Werewolves can completely avoid it because they control the transformation, so it doesn't affect them. For Astrid, that's an involuntary process, like her monthly bleeding, and she goes through it once a month. There's an incredible amount of sexual energy in her body that requires an immediate release. Yet she's been accumulating it month after month, year after year. And she doesn't even allow herself to feel it like sexual energy. She suppresses it because she doesn't have a partner. That's why she's in so much pain."

"Her blaidd benywaidd seems strong and capable of coping with that," Peyton said.

"Too strong perhaps. Astrid should be able to control her wolf, but during the transition, it's just the opposite. Astrid's blaidd benywaidd has bulletproof confidence. She's very independent. She doesn't want to merge with Astrid's dynes on her own."

My wolf, who was aware of everything that was going on, lifted her head. _"Ts, ts, ts. She's so unfair. Or she doesn't understand. But why am I surprised? Ellida's wizard side dominates over her_ blaidd benywaidd _. I have_ _to take over at some point, doesn't she see that? It's not only_ my _fault we are still separated."_

" _I know."_

" _Although, it doesn't mean that I'm not looking forward to Jack's help in connecting us."_

" _I know that, too,"_ I said and refocused on the discussion between Peyton and Ellida.

"So, Astrid needs to do it the other way, by having intercourse with a werewolf," Peyton said.

"That's the only option. The sooner the better."

I stirred and opened my eyes into narrow slits. I didn't have the energy for more than that. "We are not having this conversation. Please."

Inside my head, I heard my wolf's throaty laugh. _"It's just started getting interesting. Tell her I don't mind this option at all."_

" _Stop it!"_

Peyton squeezed my hand. "It's okay. I understand."

My wolf smirked. _"Yeah, sure."_

Ellida smiled, shifting her green gaze between Peyton and me, unaware of the invisible participant in this conversation and her opinionated thoughts.

Eve and Maggie came back with supper. Food usually made me feel better, but not this time. I took only a few bites before I pushed my plate aside.

The pain increased. I kept my eyes closed and lips pressed tight. No sound came out. A few more hours and my wolf would take over. The next time, the next time, my hazed mind chanted. There wouldn't be the next time. Jack would come back, we'd make love before the next full moon, and my wandering spirits would unite.

Another gush of pain ripped through me, taking my breath away. A string of tiny beads of sweat broke out on my forehead.

" _Please, help me,"_ I pleaded silently to my wolf.

I expected her to frown, or preach, or leave me on my own for a little while just to prove her point, but my blaidd benywaidd was nobler than I gave her credit for. She jumped to the rescue.

A moment later, a soft growl broke out from my chest. I opened my feverish eyes. I knew they weren't blue anymore, but golden-amber and bright.

"I sent her to rest," I said in my deep, velvety, wolf voice. "The pain was too strong for her."

The Sisterhood looked at me in amusement mixed with worry.

"Creepy, huh?" I repositioned myself on the sofa and reached for my plate. "I'll finish my supper now."

Morgaine, Eve and Maggie moved their chairs, semi-circling the sofa. Peyton remained beside me.

"How are you feeling now?" she said quietly and threw me a cautious glance.

I tilted my head as my eyes swept over her. "You're still here?"

"I'm not going anywhere, whether you like it or not."

I shook my head. "You're looking exactly at the part of me you're supposed to hate, Peyton: my jealous, selfish, possessive side."

Peyton smiled. "I don't hate you. I never have. There was a time when I wished you'd never come, but not anymore. I like to think things happen for a reason."

Morgaine sat quietly, listening to our exchange.

Peyton leaned in and lowered her voice. "I'll deal with my issues one step at a time. But you don't need to worry about me anymore. I'm smart enough to know when to cut my losses."

"You're a better friend than I deserve. Astrid the asanni is more like you, generous and understanding. I'm not."

"I think you are," Peyton whispered and squeezed my hand.

The atmosphere in the room loosened up. Maggie moved the TV set closer and put a Blu-ray into the player. The women continued chatting as the movie progressed, keeping an eye on me all the time.

I'd seldom join the conversation, letting my mind wander, thinking about Jack. _Why didn't he phone me?_ _Where was he_? _What was so important that he_ _couldn't come and be with me today?_

Every time another rush of pain swept through me, I would shut my eyes and tighten my grip around Peyton's small hand. The same hand I'd disliked seeing on Jack's arm only days ago was now my greatest comfort.

"Things change, don't they?" I murmured and smiled weakly.

"You okay?" I heard four voices almost in unison as four heads turned in my direction.

"Uh-huh. What time is it?"

Eve glanced at her wristwatch. "Five-thirty. Do you shift as soon as the moon appears or closer to midnight?"

"When the moon rises. I want to take a shower now."

"I'll go with you," Maggie offered.

I lifted my hand up, stopping her. "No, Maggie. Nobody's going with me to the washroom. I'll be fine."

I HEARD MY PHONE ringing through the sound of running water, _Jack!_ My heart made a loud thump, angry and happy at the same time.

It wasn't Jack, though.

"Your friend Ingmar, Astrid," Peyton said when I came out. "Can you talk to him?"

I nodded and took the phone.

"Hi, Ingmar."

"Hi, love. How are you?"

"Okay for this stage."

"Let me see you."

"I'm not switching to video, Ingmar."

"Don't tell me you've gotten stuck between two shapes," he said, teasing me.

I cracked a smile. "You caught my wolf in her human form, if you know what I mean."

"I don't."

"I'm in my human body, but my wolf spirit is in charge."

Ingmar sighed. "Your werewolf concepts are rather complicated, Astrid."

"Never mind. Hey, are you at the Blakes' or are they at yours? I can hear Liv."

"At the Blakes'. I took a year's sabbatical from my job. I'm now working with Liv on her food allergy treatment research."

He didn't need to tell me that he'd taken a leave of absence because of the anticipated conflict with Seth. He wanted to be available to join us at any moment.

"Thank you, Ingmar," I said quietly.

He didn't ask why. "Don't mention it, love. Take care. Here's Tristan."

Tristan actually made me switch to video. "Well, you look okay, that's all I can say, but someone should come and do a check-up when you're done."

"Dr. Gerd Falkenstein will come, Tristan. I believe you know him," Eve said from behind me.

"Hi, Eve. I apologize. It's just that I used to examine her to make sure she was okay."

"I know how protective you and Liv are of Astrid, but we are, too. She's among her kind now, she'll be fine."

"I know she is," Tristan said. Then to me, "Who else is there with you?"

Eve rolled her eyes.

"Ellida Morgaine and my family, sans men," I said. From the corner of her eye, I caught Peyton's smile. "Uncle James, Eamon and Takeshi are around the corner, not to mention roughly five thousand residents with my best interests at heart. I'm well protected."

"Where's Jack?" Tristan asked. "He stopped by this morning but left in a rush to get there in time."

"I have no idea," I snapped. "Maybe his flight was delayed. Now it's too late anyway. This time it's a girls' party. Liv, we miss you here."

Liv waved at me behind her husband. "I miss you too, darling."

Ingmar's face appeared again on the small screen. "By the way, your eyes look incredible. Wow."

"I have to go. Now!" I moaned as a sharp pain slashed across my abdomen. I passed the phone to Peyton and curled up on the couch.

Peyton exchanged phone numbers with Ingmar. "We'll call you later. Astrid's about to shift and she needs some privacy," she said and unceremoniously ended the call.

There were at least two more hours before the transformation, but I was thankful for Peyton's small intervention.

The women gathered closer to me as if they were trying to shield me from the pain. There wasn't too much to do anyway, except to wait for the night and the first sight of the silver orb on the horizon. The pain alternately increased and subsided.

Minutes ticked. With a great effort, I pushed back my lustful thoughts about Jack. Next time he'd better be around or I'd throttle him. Or I might ask someone else to help me out. Sid Brandon. Yes. He was handsome and had a nice sense of humor, I thought, or said, I wasn't sure which. I was caught up in the twisting and ripping of the last stage before I would change shape.

With my trembling fingers, I unclasped my necklace and pressed the cold metal of the silver wolf head to my burning cheeks and then passed it to Maggie. "Keep it safe somewhere," I whispered.

The room started spinning, first slowly, then faster and faster. I crouched on the sofa, moaning and breathing laboriously. "Move the table and armchairs," I ordered. "I need more room."

And then it happened. In front of four pairs of mesmerized eyes, in a split second, my human form exploded into a wolf.

Eyes widened in amazement, Maggie whispered, "And we thought those guys in the movie did it fast?"

One by one, the other members of the Sisterhood of the Full Moon came out of the trance caused by my spectacular transformation.

Chapter Forty-Six

Astrid

MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS THAT I'd missed one small segment of time, and then I realized that one sequence of the transformation hadn't happened: the between-moment after losing my human shape and before turning into a wolf. It was always brief, yet it was the most horrible part of the whole process. It was a truly terrifying sensation of being completely inverted. As if an invisible, burning hand reached inside me and ripped out my internal organs, blood vessels, muscles, and wrapped that bloody mass around my skin. The eruption into wolf form that followed immediately always came as an immense relief. My greatest horror ever was that I would somehow get stuck in that short yet indescribably painful stage.

With all my heart, I fervently hoped to never go through the same process again.

Something else was different. I didn't feel exhausted, but strong, powerful and filled with energy. This time I didn't need to crouch on the floor and whimper like a wounded animal. I wanted to go outside and run, run, faster and faster, to the top of the nearest mountain, and howl at the moon.

One full moon ago I was happy to be with Jack, happy that Astrid the Wizard had finally acknowledged her wolf side. This time, Miss Spock had gone even further: for the first time in our life, she was happy being who she was: unlinked and pretty much mixed up, still in pain, yet happy with her other part. The same way I'd always been happy with her, even when she let her boring, logical side get the better of us.

I looked at my friends, my faithful guard, standing in front of me, all in a state of mild shock. Even Ellida Morgaine looked completely taken by surprise. Eve blinked several times as if she'd just woken up from a trance. Peyton's deep blue eyes were fixed on me as if I were going to disappear if she but blinked.

My young cousin recovered first. "And we thought those guys in the movie did it fast?"

I chuckled, and my voice in their heads broke the spell. Now everybody was talking at the same time.

"I've never seen anything like this!" Morgaine said, clearly impressed.

"Are you okay, Astrid?" Eve said and came closer, hesitantly touching my fur.

"You are huge, Astrid! God, you're one of the biggest wolves I've ever seen," Peyton said, shaking her head in disbelief. Her pretty auburn curls danced around her heart-shaped face. "Your wolf size greatly outmatches your human size!"

" _What are we going to do tonight?"_ I asked.

"What do you want to do?" Eve said. "It's your night, you choose."

The room suddenly seemed too small for all of us. I had to walk carefully not to bump into the furniture. Besides, it didn't seem natural to stay inside. Miss Spock, who'd rarely wanted us to leave her safe place before—providing that she'd been conscious at all—suddenly started pushing me toward the door. This time she didn't want to hide in her customary semi-consciousness and stayed close to me.

" _I want to run!"_

"Great!" Morgaine said. "We'll all shift, and then we can hunt."

I stopped dead. _"Wait a second! Hunt what? I don't want to hunt!"_

"Oh, yes, you do. That's why you want to run. It's in your blood. We'll hunt deer. If you want to turn it into a safari trip, that's fine, too. But you have to come close to the animals to learn to sniff them, track them, find them and kill them, if necessary."

" _Is that a part of my apprenticeship, Ellida?"_

"It is, Astrid."

Maggie and Peyton walked to the door. "We're going outside to change," Maggie said. "You two, are you coming?"

"I have to call James first," Eve said. "They'll join us in the forest."

Oh, how could I even think the whole adventure would happen without my uncle taking part in it?

Their shape-shifting was quick, easy and fun. They took off their clothes and piled them neatly on the porch. As their transformations started, from their feet up, like Jack's, they giggled and wiggled as if an invisible hand tickled them. I got the impression they were putting on Halloween costumes.

Peyton was proof again that our human and wolf sizes often didn't match. She was considerably bigger than her petite human body would suggest. Her fur, dark and wavy, soft and silky, did match her hair color. Her eyes were blue with a greenish-gold shine.

Maggie was roughly Peyton's size, with light brown fur and amber eyes that looked so much like her brother's.

Morgaine and Eve came out of the house and transformed the same way Maggie and Peyton had. The mother and daughter looked very much alike. The ellida was on the big side with dark, reddish-brown fur. Her eyes stayed sage green.

" _Lead us, Astrid,"_ she said.

For a moment I was unsure what to do, and then my instincts kicked in.

I walked to the backyard and across the street, keeping close to the walls so that we weren't in plain sight, gradually increasing speed until we came to the clearing at the beginning of the forest where the ellida and I had been practicing. The moment we reached the first trees, I started running.

The blood rushed through my body, supplying my muscles with energy. There was a completely new kind of force that soared inside me. The trees blended into a dark blur speeding toward me, and yet at every single moment I knew where my body was and that I would never crash into anything.

My senses sharpened and my mind was crystal clear. I heard my pack half a step behind me. The ellida and Maggie were on my left side, Eve and Peyton on my right.

I heard the sounds of the night—wind in the trees and grass, the distant soft rumble of the nearby creek, frogs and birds. My nose detected many different scents that surrounded us: earth, snow, water, pine and other werewolves. I could see every shape, sharp and clear, every color and every movement.

The faster I ran, the more energy I seemed to have. I could hear the crunching sound of my paws on the crusty surface of the granulated snow, and the rush of blood in my head.

Would I ever be able to stop?

I did. As soon as my nose detected the scent of prey, unknown and familiar at the same time. Deer. A small herd a mile down toward the creek.

I continued running until I led my pack close enough for a swift attack. Without thinking too much, I picked my prey. A healthy male, strong and fast, but not the leader.

The chase was short. We separated the animal from the rest of its small herd and drove it into the open. We corralled it, keeping the same, symmetric "V"-shaped formation as before.

In a few long, fast leaps I closed the distance between my game and me. My full body weight crashed into the animal, knocking it down. My jaws closed around its exposed neck. The grip was deadly; there was no escape.

Yet I didn't increase the pressure. I stopped myself before my teeth broke the skin.

I heard two sets of heartbeats—one delirious with excitement, another one frantic with the horror of certain death. A predator and its prey. I sniffed the animal. It smelled mouth-watering, and my stomach rumbled in approval. It also smelled of fear.

And life.

I listened to our hearts until the two erratic beats blended into one indistinguishable sound.

I released my firm grip around its neck and stepped back.

" _Go,"_ I ordered it silently.

The animal certainly couldn't understand my soundless language, but it perfectly caught the meaning of my movement. It rose swiftly to its feet and ran toward the woods.

I turned around and looked at my companions.

Ellida Morgaine took a few steps forward.

" _Ellida Astrid,"_ she said and bowed her head.

I bowed back.

I'D SEEN THE OTHER WOLVES when we started the chase, and now my nose identified them as Jack, James, Eamon and Takeshi. Now I could see them. They stood on the edge of the meadow, silvery-grey under the moonlight. They had watched the hunt without interfering, but now they were coming toward us. My mighty bodyguards, I smiled, here with me tonight so that I could play safely.

I could also sense more werewolves around. I recognized them too: the eleven captains of Red Cliffs, who'd greeted me a few days ago. Tonight, my uncle had invited them to meet me in my wolf form.

" _And where have you been?"_ I growled at Jack as he came closer. All I wanted was to launch myself at him, but I kept a good distance between us, circling around him instead.

I heard him laugh. _"Good to see you, too, Astrid!_ _It doesn't look like you missed me much."_

My uncle stepped between us. He was a big wolf, strong and bulky, although not as big as my favorite canine specimen. _"Great hunt, Astrid. How are you feeling?"_

" _Free, Uncle. I feel free."_

I heard Maggie from behind. _"It was scary, Dad. Astrid was in a great deal of pain, but once she_ _shifted, everything seemed okay. We're having lots of fun."_

Eve turned to her husband. _"You didn't believe me, did you?"_ Then back to me, _"I told your uncle you are almost Jack's size."_

" _Did you see how she knocked the deer down?"_ Excited, Eamon was jumping around me. _"I'm surprised the poor animal didn't die out of sheer terror before Astrid even touched it."_

I smiled and walked to Peyton, who stood aside, under a tree, not quite alone, but not a part of the group either.

" _Are you okay, Peyton?"_ I asked.

" _I'm okay. They spoiled our fun a bit, didn't they?"_

" _They did. Men! But we can go back to my house and stay there until I shift back. What do you say?"_

" _This could be your last involuntary change. Consider it a sort of bachelorette party."_

" _Your friendship means the world to me, Peyton."_

" _And yours to me,"_ she said quietly. _"I thought it would be impossible to be a friend to you, but it turned out not to be difficult at all. I know something good will come out of this. I was tired of chasing rainbows anyway."_ Her lips tugged into a wolfish smile. _"And you, don't be bitchy with Jack now, or he'll think I'm a bad influence."_

" _I was angry with him because he wasn't here when I needed him most."_

" _But you had us."_

" _And that's why I'm not angry at him anymore."_

" _Is it going to hurt you again? When you shift back?"_

" _A little bit, but the worst is over."_

" _Good. Are you going to recover by Saturday?"_

" _Sure. Why?"_

" _Would you like to go shopping with me?"_

" _I'd love to!"_

" _All set then."_ She looked behind me and frowned, _"Unless your teacher makes you work extra to catch up with the curriculum. Here he comes. Hi, Takeshi."_

" _Hello, Miss Kincaid,"_ Takeshi said. He was lean, dark-furred, his movements were fluid. Takeshi the blaidd was as beautiful and noble as Takeshi the dyn.

" _Call me Peyton. Lovely night to be outside, isn't it?"_

" _I'm rather an indoor person, but yes, it's a beautiful night."_ He turned to me. _"Astrid, do you think you'll be able to continue with your training on Wednesday? We're running behind."_ Then he looked at Peyton and laughed.

Soon Jack joined us. He came close to me, pressing the length of his body against mine. The hot jolt of our bond shot straight through me. I wanted to tuck my head under his neck, sniff him, lick his muzzle and kiss him wolf-style, whatever that was. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and how much I'd missed him. I wanted to beg him not to leave me ever again.

" _How was it this time?"_ he said, nuzzling behind my ears.

I glanced toward Peyton and gently broke free from Jack's embrace. I knew how fragile Peyton's new confidence must be, and I didn't want to challenge it. I didn't want to see her hurt, not tonight, not ever again.

" _I skipped that horrible mid-phase."_

" _You did? What happened?"_

" _I don't know, but I'm glad. That part always hurt like hell."_

Peyton raised her head. _"Don't tell me there is something that hurts you even more! It was terrible, Jack. She was in such horrible pain almost all the time."_

I smiled. _"I don't mind. I've acquired a friend in the process."_

Jack shifted his eyes from me to Peyton and back, smiling.

I quickly changed the topic. _"Tristan told me you left this morning. How come you didn't make it in time?"_

" _Missed the flight. You'll see why later. Still, I arrived an hour before the moon rose, only then James wouldn't let me see you. Eve's orders, he said."_

" _Better stay around next time_ ," Peyton said, laughing. _"I think you should know, Astrid was talking about Plan B."_

I laughed, remembering my vengeful thoughts.

" _Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like your Plan B?"_ Jack said.

I tried to sound serious. _"Ahem, I think I mentioned Sid Brandon. He's quite eye-catching."_

I heard a low rumble coming out of Jack's chest.

" _Why Sid Brandon, my lady?"_ Takeshi interrupted, suppressing the laughter that colored his voice. _"You might find him handsome, but you barely know him. You and I, on the contrary, know each other well. I would be honored to help you out."_

" _If you're tired of your life, there're easier ways to part with it, Master Nakamura, than to ask me to kill you,"_ Jack said. _"I might take great pleasure in doing it. And besides, you don't qualify. You're not a full-blooded werewolf."_

" _I'd still be willing to try."_

" _Guess what, Takeshi?"_ Jack said. _"Starting next week, you're going to train Astrid under my watchful eye."_

Peyton glanced at me. _"When are you coming back?"_

" _Before the dawn."_

" _I'll see you later, then. Now I want to run. The night's so beautiful. Come on, Takeshi, I'll race you to the top of the hill!"_

ONE BY ONE, THE WOLVES disappeared from our sights. Jack and I had several hours to ourselves.

The indigo blue sky twinkled with countless tiny diamonds. The snow sparkled under the bluish light of the cold, pale moon. I wasn't cold. My blood was hot, my fur was thick and Jack's warm, firm body stayed close to mine.

We played in the snow and ran through the woods. We sniffed, licked, chased each other, growled and barked playfully. I gently bit his neck, and he nipped behind my ears and on my belly.

Later we found a small spot of dry grass and pine needles under a tree and rested there. I placed my head across Jack's shoulder, in a position mimicking our human sleeping. I wanted to ask him about his last trip, I wanted to tell him about my new friend, the spa party, my training, but nothing seemed important enough to break the magic of the moment.

Soon I fell asleep tucked beside my Jack, listening to his heart.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Astrid

JACK WALKED ME HOME JUST before daybreak. We stood at the main door, reluctant to part. He sniffed around my muzzle and gently bit my neck.

" _You smell so good, Astrid. My head's spinning."_

I laughed. _"Nice try, but I'm not going to ask you in. This is our first werewolf date. You may kiss me here and ask to see me again."_

" _May I see you again, Miss Mohegan? Later today?"_

" _When I shift back. Until then, I'm staying with my friends."_

" _And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?"_

" _Nope. I'll see you tonight."_

Jack's warm, amber eyes studied me for a long moment. _"You'll be fine, will you?"_

His voice was soft, thick with brewing emotions. He was worried and wanted to be with me. My transformation, never a controllable process, had changed its pattern again. I wanted to believe it was of no consequence—this was supposed to be my last spontaneous shapeshifting.

Frankly, I had no idea what would happen once my loose parts were glued together. But, for the very first time, my blaidd benywaidd and my dynes were fully aware of each other. The most painful stage of my transformation hadn't happened and I felt strong and happy.

Could that be a sign that my spirits would have united spontaneously in the course of time? What would have happened to them if I hadn't met Jack at all?

" _I've been thinking,"_ I said carefully. _"The change was easier this time. Miss Spock isn't in her usual self-induced coma. She's here, with me. If I, for example, continued with the transformations on my own, I think, theoretically speaking, my spirits would eventually find a way to merge. Maybe we don't need to go through the, ahem, ritual."_

He looked at me as if I'd lost my mind.

" _Don't even think about it! I mean it, Astrid! This is the safest way to get you through this. What happened? You were okay with that. God, I knew those women would fill your head with crazy ideas!"_

" _What are you talking about? Don't you dare blame them! They don't know anything about it. If you need to know, it's actually your Miss Spock who's been fiddling with the idea. It's not that she doesn't want to make love to you, but the ritual part of the process doesn't agree with her sense of independence, so she's started contemplating alternative solutions."_

Jack let out a frustrated growl. _"Just hold on for a second! Listen, baby, this isn't about you and your loose parts only. I need to go through it, too, so that my blaidd can connect with your blaidd benywaidd. And that can only happen if we go through the ritual, as you call it. Only then will our bond be completed."_

" _You're just making it up."_

" _I am not. Ask Morgaine. And it's not a ritual. We'll make love, Astrid. That's it."_ He shook his head. _"Since when did you start listening to Miss Spock's logic and reason? I like it better when you're naughty."_

" _Oh, fear not. My naughty thoughts didn't go anywhere, but I could hardly express them in front of the most powerful woman of our world, your mother and sister, and my new friend who happens to be your ex-girlfriend, could I?"_

Jack's lips tugged up. _"Thank you for inviting Peyton. I told you she was nice."_

" _We have lots in common, among many other things—you. It complicates things a bit, true, but it also gives us a chance to build a solid friendship. If you know what I mean."_

He laughed. _"I have no idea. Go now. I'll phone you later. I love you."_

I stuck out my tongue and licked him all over his face.

" _Mmm, delicious... I love you, too."_

" _No more crazy ideas?"_

" _Pinky promise,"_ I said.

MY FRIENDS HAD ALREADY SHIFTED back to their human forms when I joined them. Peyton was on the phone with Ingmar, filling him in about the previous night. I noticed a concern in his voice.

" _Tell him to stop fretting. I'm fine,"_ I told Peyton, and she immediately passed on the message. _"I'm hungry. Can I get something to eat?"_

Morgaine stood up and walked to the kitchen. "Come with me, Astrid. I'll fix you something. You let your supper walk free."

I followed her across the room.

" _What would've happened if I'd killed that deer?"_ I asked and dipped my muzzle into a bowl of beef cubes.

"Oh, I expected you to kill it. That's why I was so impressed when you let it go. Well, nothing would have happened if I'd have taught you how to control your instincts. Now we can skip that lesson. You already have them under perfect command. You know, I killed my first few preys. It took me a while to learn how to handle my hunting instincts. But you let it live. Astounding."

I stopped eating and sat on my back legs. _"It was so scared and so alive. I couldn't kill it."_

"There's never been an ellida like you. Your size is amazing. Your grasp over your wild side is astonishing. Red Cliffs is lucky to have you."

" _Ellida, is it possible that my spirits could connect spontaneously?"_

For a moment, her green gaze was fixed somewhere above my head. She took a deep breath and sat down close to me. "No. If it hasn't happened by now, it never will." Her fingers gently plowed through my fur. "You need Jack to take you safely to the other side. It might take some time, you know."

"Some time?"

"You two might need to make love several times within twenty-four hours. You'll shift between sexual tension and the need to release it until the accumulated sexual energy is spent and your spirits linked."

God. It sounded like a sex marathon. _"Wouldn't it be too much for him? Does he know?"_

"Oh, he'll be fine, don't worry."

" _Jack says it'll help him to link_ his _spirit with mine."_

"That's also true. You're a bonded couple, you have to mark each other on both levels."

I smiled silently. Well, in that case, I would do what had to be done.

"Astrid." Ellida's soft voice interrupted my thoughts. "I can't emphasize enough how important it is that you wait until the next full moon. Timing is crucial. Your spirits need to be equally present in order to merge."

How did it show when a blaidd benywaidd blushed, I wondered? Because I was blushing for sure. _"Er, yes. We know that."_ Time to change the topic _. "Now I need to ask you something entirely different. The heads of several Red Cliffs families are women. Why can't a woman be an einhamir, the leader of a clan?"_

"Well, it hasn't happened yet. As Jack's mate, you're an alpha female, that's your position in the pack. You're also a natural alpha regardless of your position, thanks to your character and nature, but only to the other females of the pack. If you weren't an ellida, Jack would outrank you; your power as an alpha female is limited because your position is submissive in relation to the alpha male. If our society seems too traditional and patriarchal for your liking, think about this: only a woman can be an ellida. We outrank everybody; we're the ultimate authority."

" _Why's that? Why not a man?"_

Morgaine chuckled. "Because no sane creator, or god, or force, or whoever you like, would grant such power to a man. It would be too much for any male to handle."

" _Oh, I see."_

Morgaine just nodded and continued to caress my head. "Don't worry, Ellida. Bit by bit, you'll learn everything you need to know. Eat now. You must be hungry."

Eve's head peeked in, phone in her hand. "Astrid, Tristan's asking how you're feeling."

" _Tell him I'm fine. I'll talk to them all when I shift back."_

"Shall I call Gerd Falkenstein to come now?"

" _I don't need to see a doctor. I feel great1"_

Eve inhaled deeply and passed my message to Tristan. Then she turned back to me, "As you can hear, Tristan insists."

I shook my head. _"No need. Remind Tristan I'm a doctor, regardless of my current shape. Tell him not to worry. Now, can we watch a movie?"_

When we went back to the sitting room, we found Peyton and Maggie talking with Ingmar. It didn't seem I was the subject of their lively conversation.

I jumped on the sofa, leaving its end free for Peyton, in case she wanted to resume her place. After a while, the giggling stopped and she and Maggie joined us. Morgaine and Maggie made breakfast for the human members of our Sisterhood. Peyton squeezed beside me, and I placed my head on her lap.

FOR THE REST OF THE day, we would interrupt our movie marathon only when we were hungry or thirsty. In the beginning, our phones rang frequently, but we quickly learned to ignore them.

As soon as the moon came out, I shifted back. It still hurt, but far less than before, and only immediately before the transformation.

I flipped from one form to another, skipping the terrifying inter-phase one more time.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Astrid

ONE MORNING, ABOUT A WEEK after my transformation, my phone made a soft ping, announcing a message from Ingmar.

Need to talk to you.

My heart stopped. _Is everything ok?_ I typed and hit the small upward arrow to send it.

Yeah. It's kinda personal.

_Call U in 15_.

Holding my four-week-old tabby in the crook of my arm, I went to the kitchen and took a small bottle with cat formula from a pan filled with warm water.

I tested the temperature by letting some formula drop on the back of my hand. "Perfect. Time to eat, Baby Blue."

Blueberry, a silver tabby with crystal-clear blue eyes, was Jack's present to me. She'd been three weeks old when Jack adopted her from a cat shelter in Seattle. The kitten was the reason why he'd been late for my transition—the paperwork had taken longer than he'd expected so he'd missed the flight.

Now Blue was a week older, healthy and strong. The whole house had fallen in love with her. We still bottle-fed her. Once she was six weeks, Angela Radford, Henry's mother and the local veterinarian, had suggested starting to give her some solid food.

When Blue finished her bottle, I went to my room, stretched on the bed so that she could sleep on my chest, and dialed Ingmar.

He answered after the first ring.

"Can you talk now, Astrid? Is anybody else around?" he asked in a low voice.

"Hello to you, too. I'm in my soundproofed room, all by myself." Only Eve was at the house. Uncle James, Jack and Maggie were all out, and Eamon was at school. "What's going on?"

He cleared his throat. "I want to ask you about Peyton."

Well, well. Ingmar and Peyton? Wouldn't that be great? "What do you want to know?" I asked unable to hide a smile.

"She isn't married, right? Is she seeing anyone?"

"As far as I know, she's not in a relationship."

"Does she know about, ahem, you and me?"

"No. Our friendship is too new for such conversations, but I like her a lot." I told him my thoughts about Peyton without revealing anything I considered private.

There was a short silence when I finished, and I could visualize him rubbing his jaw. "I think I'm going to call her today," he finally said. "I'd like to get to know her better. Do you think there's a chance that she... Ah, never mind. Don't tell her I called, okay?"

"Not a word."

"Thank you, Astrid."

"Good luck, Ingmar," I said and ended the call, grinning from ear to ear.

My kitty opened her blue eyes and looked at me. "Peyton and Ingmar, can you believe it?" I gently picked her up, kissed her soft fur and placed her down on my shoulder. "Now that I think of it, those two would be perfect for each other."

Ingmar was an atypical wizard, more relaxed and more cheerful than most of us. He would drag me to train shows, air shows, firework festivals, football and hockey games, even to rodeos. In short, to every place with a lot of noise, large crowds and an excess of raw energy.

I smiled remembering our great adventure when we were teenagers. The idea had been mine, but my fun-loving best friend had readily jumped on the bandwagon.

At age fifteen I turned overnight into a hell-raiser with an inclination toward extreme sports. I'd parachuted, cave-dived and glacier-skied. I'd faked my own and Ingmar's dates of birth to register us for the _Rally des Pharaons_ , a 3,100 kilometre car race through Egypt. We hadn't made it far. My grandfather and Master Erlendur, Ingmar's father, had caught us on our way to the airport and brought us home. We'd both been grounded for months.

My teenage rebellion that had given my grandparents many sleepless nights didn't last long. The following year I'd gone to medical school and embraced everything I'd been rebelling against: reason, logic, order.

Until I met Jack, having fun, being young and spontaneous, enjoying life, had been an isolated episode tied to my hormones and teenage brain. Or perhaps my awakened blaidd benywaidd, my inner daredevil. This side of me had started to emerge. For Ingmar, it had always been an integral part of him, as much as his cool logic and superb intellect.

Yeah, he and Peyton might be great together.

"We'll keep our fingers and paws crossed for them, you and I," I said to Blue and kissed her tiny head. She made a soft purr as if she agreed with me.

JACK'S HOUSE WAS UNDERGOING RENOVATIONS—a new kitchen and bathroom, new floors, to have it ready for us to move in after my next transformation. It wouldn't even take that long with so many hands willing to help.

For the time being, Jack was staying in his parent's house, sleeping in my room.

A blessing, falling asleep and waking up beside him, and a curse because we couldn't do much more than that.

My days were busy. Every morning Jack and I woke up at half-past five, had a coffee and went to his house to oversee the renovations. At nine o'clock it was time for another lesson with Takeshi. At noon, I'd usually go meet Peyton for lunch. Morgaine had decided I didn't need any more instruction from her, but we continued to talk about my future role.

By now, everyone and his brother knew Jack and I were a bonded couple. Red Cliffs not only didn't mind it, but they found it romantic. Since we didn't need to hide our relationship anymore, Jack and I could go out to restaurants, cafes or pubs. At first, we attracted lots of attention, but after a few days, people would just wave, smile and say hi.

IT HAD BEEN MORE THAN two weeks since I'd applied for the job, and I expected a phone call from the hospital any day. More than once, though, it did cross my mind that a full-time job would be too much for me.

I was at Jack's house making breakfast for the renovating crew when Dr. Falkenstein phoned to tell me they'd decided to offer the job to a candidate with more experience. I didn't know what to think. Before I could decide if I was relieved or disappointed, he asked me how I would feel about a part-time job.

"I'd love it!" I said.

"We'll have an opening next month. The ER, twenty-four hours per week. We want you, so we're not going to post it to shorten the hiring process. Could you come here tomorrow? Let's say eleven o'clock? I'll tell you about the job and show you around. You'll meet the staff and our new doctor. The one who got the full-time position. You two will work as a team."

"What's his name? Maybe I know him."

"I'm coming in a minute," I heard Dr. Falkenstein addressing someone. He'd either not heard my question or he'd chosen to ignore it. "Dr. Mohegan, we have all your papers here. If you take the job, HR will have everything ready in no time. See you tomorrow, then."

"Thank you, Dr. Falkenstein. See you tomorrow, then."

WHEN PEYTON AND I MET for lunch sometime later, I told her about the phone call from Dr. Falkenstein. "I'm relieved I didn't end up with a full-time job, but I'm curious who got it," I said as we polished off an extra-large pizza we shared.

We sat in Maestro, another popular Italian restaurant in downtown Red Cliffs. Peyton had insisted we should have our lunches at different places. As a public figure, she'd said, I should not openly favorite one restaurant over another.

Fortunately, like Paganini, Maestro also served excellent food.

"You'll know soon enough. And I agree about a full-time job. With singing at Goblin's Hollow and everything else it might be too much."

Singing. I groaned. "Are you coming tomorrow?"

Peyton beamed. "I wouldn't miss your debut for anything."

"I'm terrified."

"You'll be fine."

"I asked the guys and the Goblin's owner to keep it low-key. It'd be easier to start in front of a small audience."

Peyton burst into laughter. "Good luck with that. This is Red Cliffs, Astrid, and you're its most famous citizen."

The waitress came with coffee and two dessert plates filled with cannoli.

"Compliments of the chef," she said and set the plates in front of Peyton and me. "Ellida, if you don't mind me saying something, I couldn't help but overhear. Be prepared, the pub will be full. Everyone I know is coming."

"Let me guess. You're coming too, aren't you?"

She beamed. "The complete restaurant. We're closing earlier tomorrow. Enjoy your dessert."

"My thanks to the chef," I said and waited until she disappeared into the kitchen to let out a moan. "Now I'm freaking out. I've never sung in front of an audience. I don't know why I let Eamon talk me into this."

"Oh, come on. Because you wanted it, that's why." She smiled and patted my hand. "Your support group will be there. Even Maggie's coming from Austin, I heard. The Sisterhood saw you through the change, we'll see you through this, too."

Oh well.

Peyton's phone that sat on the table chimed. She glanced at the screen, blushed and flipped the screen side down.

Oh, this was interesting. "Wanna tell me more about it?"

She blinked several times and blushed. "A message."

Of course it was a message. I looked at her. "From?"

"Ingmar."

Yes! I mentally punched the air. "That's wonderful!"

"You don't look surprised."

I took a piece of cannoli with my fingers and took a bite. The crunchy-and-creamy sweetness burst in my mouth. "No, I'm not." I told her about Ingmar's phone call.

"He told me about you two," Peyton said when I finished. "I told him about Jack and me."

"I'm sorry I didn't have an opportunity to talk to you about that."

She waved me off. "Don't be silly."

"I'm really happy for you two. Tell me how it started."

"Something happened when we spoke the first time, during your transformation," she said with a dreamy smile. "A strange and wonderful connection. Then he phoned one evening, maybe a week later. The first few moments were awkward as he tried to come up with some reason to call me. We ended up talking for almost two hours. Since then, we've been calling each other every night. We can talk about just everything. He makes me laugh." She paused. "It's so intense it scares me, yet it feels so right."

I placed my hand over hers. "Because it _is_ right."

In front of the restaurant, Peyton hugged me. "Remember when I said I wished you hadn't come? Well, the truth is, your arrival made me turn inward, let go of my futile hopes, open up to new possibilities. When you said if you truly were an ellida, you shouldn't be hurting me, I thought it was bull." She smiled. "Now I know. You _are_ an ellida."

I swallowed a knot in my throat. "Thank you," I whispered, blinking away tears.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING AT eleven o'clock sharp I knocked on Dr. Falkenstein's door.

In front of me stood a tall man of regal posture, dark-blond hair, high forehead and melancholic blue eyes, in other words, the young Holy Roman Emperor Josef II. Who, I suddenly remembered, used the alias of the Count of Falkenstein for his incognito travels.

Dr. Falkenstein smiled. "Ah. Jack didn't mention it, did he?"

"Don't tell me you're..." I stuttered, unable to finish.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm not. He was my great-grandfather."

Another shock. "But how? I always thought the emperor hadn't left any surviving children."

"He had a son. But by then he wasn't the emperor anymore."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," I said, gathering my wits. "The emperor was one of the greatest men of his time."

"Thank you for your kind words. This is what the history books say: he was a great ruler and a sad man. Thanks to Brian Canagan, Jack's father, however, there was a much happier, unofficial sequel to his official biography. In short, when the emperor fell ill, Brian healed him."

"Did he turn him? Is he still alive?"

"No, he didn't turn him. My grandfather didn't want it. Anyhow, with Brian's help, Josef staged his death and carried on for the next four decades as a commoner, Herman Falkenstein. He married a lovely daughter of a silk merchant and had a son with her, my grandfather. His son, my father, immigrated to the States, married a blaidd benywaidd and became a blaidd himself. Now he lives down in Texas. I was born there as well."

"What a story! And with a happy ending!"

"Yes. My grandpa deserved it. Come, have a seat."

He offered me coffee and told me about the position he was offering me. "You might find it quite different from your previous jobs. You probably won't do so many complicated surgeries right away. With our new colleague and you here, however, I'm hoping to attract orthopedic patients from the entire region and make the Red Cliffs Hospital a prestigious orthopedic center. For the time being, though, you'll work in the ER two nights and occasional sub shifts to cover sick days, vacations and such. If you prefer day shifts, that's fine too. It's twenty-four hours in total, and it's up to you how you are going to work them. I should know your schedule a month in advance, and then the next month you can choose some other shifts to work. I'll do everything to accommodate your busy private life."

I realized being an ellida meant not only more responsibilities but also privileges, like a flexible schedule. "Thank you, Dr. Falkenstein. Especially for being so open with the hours and shifts."

He smiled. "We are very happy to have you here. Our new colleague—"

"What is his name, Dr. Falkenstein? Do I know him?"

I caught a mischievous glimmer in Dr. Falkenstein's eyes. "Well, Dr. Mohegan, I believe you know him indeed."

At that precise moment, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Dr. Falkenstein said, still not revealing the name of my mysterious fellow colleague.

A tall, dark-haired man stepped in. He seemed to be in the vicinity of thirty years of age. His handsome face with dark eyes, high cheekbones, straight nose and square chin wasn't familiar.

His scent was. Although I'd never paid attention to it before, my subconscious had memorized it.

A wide smile spread across my face. "I had a feeling it was you."

Chapter Forty-Nine

Astrid

"GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, Dr. Demir!"

"Likewise, Dr. Duplant," Ahmed said and pulled me into his arms.

"I left a fortyish, grey-haired man behind in Rosenthal, and look at you now!" Holding his biceps, I stepped back. "Is this your real look?"

"I worked almost twelve years there so I had to age myself somehow," Ahmed said.

Dr. Falkenstein stood up. "You two have lots to catch up on. Feel free to stay in my office. Dr. Mohegan, thank you for coming. HR will contact you with the details of your job. Dr. Demir, I'll see you on Monday."

When Dr. Falkenstein had left his office, I turned to Ahmed. "My God, I can't believe you're here."

Ahmed pulled out Dr. Falkenstein's chair for me and sat across from me. "Jack had offered for me to come to Red Cliffs; you know that I suppose. I called him the week after you left and said I'd like to move here."

"Oh, I'm so glad, Ahmed," I said. I spontaneously addressed him by his first name. I felt we were already much more than colleagues. "I missed you more than anyone else from Rosenthal. I cried my eyes out the morning I left.

"Jack introduced me to your uncle. A great man. Since Jack had told me the whole story back in Rosenthal, he and James asked me to go to Scotland with them to the meeting with Darius."

That was a surprise. "And did you go? Why didn't Jack tell me anything? No one told me you got this job."

"I asked them not to. Forgive me. I wanted to tell you."

"You're here, that's all that matters." I motioned toward his hands. "No matter your look, I'd always recognize you."

"Ah. My hands. I can make myself look younger or older, change my facial features, my eyes or my hair, everything but my hands. I have no idea why."

"Where are you staying?" I asked.

"At the Watchman's. James offered to have me stay with him and his wife until I find a permanent place. But you and Jack are there already, aren't you?"

The small hotel close to the border was quite an elegant place with an excellent restaurant. It was owned by James's close friends and fishing buddies, the chefs and brothers Herzog. Manfred and Werner would make sure Ahmed felt welcome and comfortable. Still. Tourists stayed in hotels; friends stayed with friends.

"Yes, and there is still plenty of room, but I have an idea. Why don't you stay at my house until you find a place for yourself? It's empty."

After short persuasion, Ahmed agreed and we drove to the Watchman's to pick up his stuff.

AFTER A QUICK STOP AT the nearby grocery store, I brought Ahmed to his temporary home. I showed him around the house and gave him the spare set of keys. I was about to leave when he said, "Astrid, can you stay for a cup of tea? I need to tell you something." His voice betrayed subtle tension, even reluctance beneath its resolute determination.

"Sure," I said. "Do you want me to make tea?"

"You go sit there and I'll make us tea. I need to familiarise myself with my kitchen."

It didn't take him long to find everything he needed. After a few minutes, he returned carrying a tray, a teapot and two porcelain cups. He placed it on the table and sat in the armchair angled toward my corner of the sofa.

I leaned forward and poured us tea. It was black tea infused with cardamom, an aroma I easily recognized—it always lingered in Ahmed's office back in Rosenthal.

He took a deep breath. "I never speak about myself, Astrid. Yet, when Jack asked me about my life, I told him everything. I poured my heart out to a complete stranger, told him the things that I'd tried to guard all my life. It was cathartic. I felt I could finally, after a very long time, leave the past behind."

"It didn't come overnight, I'm sure. You must've been ready to turn over a new leaf for some time," I said.

"I was ready, but for what? That part was unclear. I didn't know what I'd do with my new life. Until _you_ came to Rosenthal with your Tel-Urugh friends. Suddenly, the entire world that I'd been trying to ignore for centuries was all around me."

I held my cup and took a tentative sip of tea. It was hot, strong and slightly sweet from cardamom. "The world of Langaer," I said. "You realized you belonged among us?"

"Yes," he said and leaned forward for his cup. The delicate, flowery china looked even more fragile in his big, strong hands. "For reasons I still can't grasp, the moment I saw you I knew that your life and mine irrevocably crossed their paths," Ahmed said. "Don't get me wrong. You're a gorgeous young woman, but there's nothing carnal in the connection that I feel between you and me. I still don't know what it is. I only know that you're important to me. Your arrival in Rosenthal put my entire life into perspective."

"You told me something in Turkish when we parted. What does it mean?"

" _Yolonuz açik olsun, kizim._ Blessed be your travels, daughter." He smiled. "Yeah, my feelings are fatherly. Don't ask."

"I understand. I always felt connected to you, Ahmed. I also don't know why."

"I talked to Jack about it. He thinks it's because you're an ellida. Your mandate is to bring balance and harmony. But there's more to that, I'm sure." He paused. "Last time I promised I'd tell you my story."

I put my hand over his. "Only if you're ready."

"I am."

His father, Yusuf-Bey, Ahmed started, had been a high-ranked Ottoman administrator, whose ancestors were granted land property in northern Rumelia, close to the border with Wallachia. Yusuf-Bey lived between his wealthy _beylik_ —land estate—in Rumelia and his properties in Turkey, near the city of Smyrna, on the Aegean coast. Ahmed was the only child. His father wanted him to study law, but nonetheless supported his son's decision to become _hekim_ , a doctor. Ahmed was sent to the best schools in Smyrna, then to Istanbul and Cairo. To his father's dismay, he joined the army and became an army physician.

Ahmed was a month shy of thirty-one when his unit was sent to Khotyn, in today's Ukraine. For more than a month, from the beginning of September until the first autumn snow in early October, the Polish-Lithuanian forces had been halting Sultan Osman the Second's army advances. Having sustained heavy losses in several attacks on fortified Polish lines, the Ottomans had abandoned their siege, the Lithuanian commander died on the battlefield, and the Battle of Khotyn ended in a stalemate.

"I was wounded in late September, in one of the last attempts to break the enemy lines. The last thing I remembered was the sky, blue and cloudless, and silence. Before I fell, I fought two Polish Winged Hussars. The Polish cavalry in charge was one of the most terrifying sights I've ever seen. Big horses, shiny armor and those damned wings. They looked like warrior angels. The mere sound those wings made when the Hussars charged would make your blood run cold. They were brave, the devils.

"I wasn't. Not anymore. I was tired, sick of killing, and blood and mud. The stench of wounded bodies, dead bodies, unwashed bodies. The sight of unbearable human misery. Fear, despair. I wasn't a coward, but I wasn't a soldier. My father had to know that; that's why he'd been so unhappy when I joined Sultan's army.

"I brought down one Hussar, but the other one slashed me across the abdomen, bringing me to my knees. It was a mortal wound; I knew right away. I still remember him: he was a big man, blond, with pale blue eyes. He was on his horse; I was on foot. I looked at him, thinking how beautiful and terrible he looked, almost like a vision of light and silver, with that bone-chilling sound of wind in his wings.

"I had no strength to raise my sword, so I stuck it in the ground to support my heavy, heavy body. He raised his sword to finish me off. He never brought it down. He turned and left, the sound of his wings fading in the distance.

I lay on the earth. I didn't feel pain, only cold. My last thoughts were about my wife. And the child she carried. I sent a silent prayer for them and my parents and stared into the endless blue, clear sky, unbearably sad because I knew I wouldn't see them again. Then I closed my eyes and died."

He stopped and stared into nothingness, silent, distant. I sat motionless, with a heavy heart, and waited for him to carry on. Or not to.

"The rain woke me up." Ahmed's soft voice cut through the silence. "I still didn't feel pain. I could move my legs, my hands, my whole body. Only it felt weird. Oversized, out of proportion, out of shape. Connected to its surroundings, warm and bursting with life. Even now I can't describe my horror when I realized that my body belonged to a big _kurt_ , a wolf. I knew right away I was in a wolf's body. I learned to live with who I am long ago, but at that moment, my mind couldn't grasp it. Yet, beneath the terror, I was mad with happiness to be alive.

"Who turned me and why? To save me? To eat me? How did I survive the transformation? The only rational explanation was that I made it through thanks to the small part of wizard blood in me. My great-great-great-grandfather was a _shihirbas_. A wizard."

"Yes, Jack mentioned it."

"He was a scientist. A cartographer and astronomer. A great healer as well. Anyhow, I dragged myself from the battlefield and stayed in wolf form long enough for my wounds to heal. I knew from the beginning how to change forms at will. And I wanted to go home. On my long journey, I prayed to God to find my family alive and well. My wife was pregnant when I left."

He paused and rubbed his hand across his eyes. I waited, afraid to say a word, afraid to comfort him.

"They were all dead. My wife and my daughter died in childbirth, my parents of fever. They died while I was away, fighting in some absurd war, for a stretch of marshy land nobody needed. Killing the husbands of other pregnant wives and sons of other doting parents. They were all gone, and I survived."

I inched closer to him and placed my hand on his forearm. "I'm so sorry, Ahmed."

He smiled weakly. "It was almost four hundred years ago, Astrid. It's a part of me, and it's always going to be, and it still hurts sometimes, but I am at peace with my past."

"What happened after that? Where did you go?"

"I started traveling: Western Europe, the Russian Empire, the Middle East. I continued working as a doctor. I healed humans, but also werewolves, especially children. I studied wherever I had the opportunity, at Oxford, at Al-Azhar, at the University of Milan, Padua, Prague, among others. Different subjects—history, art, engineering, and of course, medicine. I'd return to Smyrna every now and then and stay there for a while, changing my look, pretending to be my own descendant. I'd never stayed long. The same family has been taking care of my estates for generations, which allowed me to live on the other side of the globe."

"And you've been alone all the time? Without a family of your own?"

"There was a woman in my life every now and then, but, yes, I mostly was alone. I was turned, and I felt I didn't belong to any clan. I came to America after the Second World War, studied medicine first at Berkley then at Harvard. My family was so rich that even after all those centuries I've barely scratched the surface of that wealth." He smiled. "Although I'm not bad myself at making money when I put a bit of effort into it." He let out a deep breath. "So, this was my story. I wanted you to know it."

"Thank you."

Ahmed made a slight bow.

I took a sip of my forgotten tea. It was lukewarm, yet still tasted good. "I'm happy you're here. I'm happy we'll work together again. I realized how exceptional you were right after the first surgery we did together."

Ahmed's hand reached out and lifted my chin. "You're great, too. Tristan valued you above anyone else. By the way, where are they? The Blakes?"

"In Seattle."

"Jack told me they are coming here, to be close to you."

I confirmed it with a nod. "There's going to be a war between Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge," I said quietly.

"I know. That's why I'm here. And we'll be ready. Only a little bit of fear keeps Seth in power."

"You met Darius," I said. "Tell me about him."

"He's a good man. Strong. Capable. He doesn't want to be an einhamir, though. He's terrified he would become like Seth one day."

"Did Jack tell you why it's not possible?"

"He did. It's unfair Darius doesn't know that Seth isn't his father. Morgaine insists on keeping it secret for the time being."

My face flushed with anger, like every time someone mentioned it. "I _strongly_ disagree, but I'm not in the position to change it. It seems so cruel. It's like you know your patient is healthy, but you let him believe he has a horrible disease. I hope the ellida knows what she's doing."

"Being one, you should know there's no way to question her decisions."

I made a dry snort. "Bull. Nobody's immune to making mistakes, not even ellidas. We don't have a built-in mechanism against wrong judgments. I want my friends to feel free to tell me when they think I am not doing right."

"You'll be a great ellida, Astrid."

I looked fondly at my friend, the first person who would sleep in my parents' house after a quarter of a century. "Are you going to be all right here, Ahmed?"

"I _am_ all right here."

"Good, then. I'll leave you now. The workers won't touch your bedroom, bathroom and the kitchen. You'll eat with us most of the time anyway."

"And I'm coming with your family to Goblin's Hollow tomorrow night."

"Oh, God," I moaned. "I almost forgot about it. Why did you remind me?"

"Come on, you'll be fine. I've heard you sing before."

I raised my eyebrow. "You did? When?"

"In your office, every time after a complicated surgery."

"I thought it was too quiet for anybody to hear. Well, I didn't know I had a blaidd in the audience." I stood up. "Thank you for telling me about your life and your family."

Ahmed's fingers brushed my cheek. A gentle, friendly gesture that evoked Tristan's affection. "I still don't know why, only that I had to," he said, his voice as soft as the touch of his fingers.

Chapter Fifty

Jack

WE ARRIVED AT GOBLIN'S HOLLOW two hours before Astrid's eight o'clock debut. I knew she'd be fantastic once she started singing, but right now she was on pins and needles, pacing across a foot-high stage packed with guitars, a keyboard, upright piano, drum set and cables.

The band was also excited. It was going to be their first performance after a long winter break, with a new singer and a different repertoire.

A big crowd was expected that night. Although Astrid didn't want any kind of publicity before she started singing, the news about the band's new singer had spread like summer fire through dry grass.

I didn't know what she would sing—the band kept a close lid on that. I only knew that their stock of songs ranged from jazz and blues to rock'n'roll and pop, even some country.

"Jack, can you find me a barstool?" Astrid interrupted my thoughts.

I went to the storage room to fetch it.

She pointed to the spot where she wanted it. So, she was going to sit through the first few songs. A smart move. She'd look more casual and relaxed sitting than on her feet.

My sister had decided to come home over the weekend. She, Eve and James arrived an hour after me, with Peyton, Takeshi and Ahmed. They joined Lily, Alec and their parents at the table reserved for the family. Right in front of the stage.

All the other Captains and their families had come, too.

James hopped on the stage, kissed Astrid's cheek and asked her how she was.

She kissed him back. "If this turns out to be a disaster, you'll still love me?"

"Sure, we'll just pretend for a while we don't know you. Don't worry, sweetheart. Goblin's Hollow's survived much worse."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she said, laughing.

"Dad, for Pete's sake, how can you say a thing like that?" my sister snapped from her seat. James just laughed and rubbed Astrid's shoulder. "You'll be fine, kiddo. It's in your blood."

When Morgaine walked in, James went to greet her and usher her to our table. Astrid brushed my cheeks with her cold lips, waved to Maggie and Peyton to follow her, and the three of them disappeared into the staff room behind the bar.

A few minutes later the lights turned off.

I could see the movements on the stage as the band members—Sid, Mark, their cousin Bernard and Eamon took their places. I could see Astrid walking to the barstool and sitting on it.

Then a single, wide blue beam lit her up.

She looked very young and cool in faded blue jeans, fashionably ripped above her knees, and a tight white T-shirt with a fluorescent-pink inscription: _I'm with the Band!_

I caught a glimmer of the silver wolf-pendant necklace around her neck. Her gorgeous hair was pulled up into, well, an elaborate ponytail. Some kind of retro 1950s look. Her feet were propped against the footrest. Holding the mike in one hand, she touched the pendant with her other. Then she gave the guys a tiny nod.

The pub held a collective breath.

Time suspended for a moment, and then Astrid's soft, velvety, sexy voice filled the air.

Nina Simone's _Feeling Good_.

Under the blue beam of light, I saw her eyes. They were amber. She'd brought up her wolf tonight, to cope with her stress and anxiety.

The band joined her after the first stanza: piano, drums, bass guitar, trombone, playing in the background to let her voice dominate the song.

And what a voice she had! Powerful and sweet, sensual and clear. She'd once said she was a soprano, but that classification referred to my blue-eyed girl. With her wolf in charge, she sounded deeper, heavier and darker.

I scanned the bar. Every single pair of eyes focused on her. People were smiling, spellbound by the girl on the stage and her voice.

When she finished, Goblin's Hollow exploded with whistling, clapping and cheering. Astrid jumped down from the stool, bowed and whispered, "Thank you."

After Eamon introduced their new singer, Astrid moved the stool to the end of the stage. Her inner tension eased and her eyes resumed their brilliant blue hue.

The evening continued with blues and jazz and some all-time favorite pop songs. Astrid was switching masterfully between Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha Franklin, Tina Turner.

Her voice was alternating from satiny, smooth and warm, to a rich, spinning and ravishing sound. It was an instrument in itself, capable of producing a whole range of different vocal characteristics. She sang other singers' music, songs that had made them widely popular and recognizable, yet she didn't sound like any of them. She sounded like Astrid.

The last song was Eddie Cooley's _Fever_. They added saxophone to the second part of the song, giving it an unexpected twist. It sounded fantastic.

It was almost three o'clock in the morning when the lights were finally turned on again. I looked around. Goblin's Hollow, already full at the beginning, was jammed. All the extra chairs were used, and many guests who'd arrived later stood along the walls or sat on the edge of the stage.

Amazed, I watched Astrid chatting with the guests, stopping by the tables, smiling. She was happy. Her audience was enchanted by her beautiful voice, reluctant to leave.

"Your voice is amazing, Astrid," my brother said as we drove home sometime later. "You should sing in a concert hall, in front of thousands of people."

Astrid hugged him. "Tonight, I sang with the best band, and in front of the most wonderful audience in the world. My dreams came true, Mr. Frontman."

WE CELEBRATED ASTRID'S SMASHING SUCCESS with a late-night surprise party. My mother and James had managed to organize everything with no one being the wiser.

It was almost dawn when Astrid and I finally retired to her room.

When the door closed behind us, she locked her arms around my neck and kissed me fiercely. "This is one of the best days of my life!" she said, looking at my eyes with so much love that my heart almost burst with emotion.

God, I should probably sleep in my room tonight.

"What's at the top of your list?" I said in an attempt to distract myself from her warm, soft body that smelled and felt so good.

"The night I found you in my garden," she said without hesitation. "That's _the_ best and _the_ most important day of my life. Then, when we fought with those Tel-Urughs—"

"How does fighting with Tel-Urughs qualify for the best day list? That was one of the scariest days of my life. I didn't hear your heart for a few moments. I thought you were dead. I wish I could erase that day from my memory."

Her fingers pressed over my mouth. "Shhh, don't go there. It qualifies because we did it together. You were ready to give your life to save mine. That's why." She smiled. "But don't think you are solely accountable for my best days. There are my family and my friends on that list, my patients, my university days, Ingmar—"

"Can we skip Ingmar?"

"And of course, the day I learned that my mother has been protecting me all these years. My list is very long. I'm a happy woman, Jack. What about your best days?"

"The night you did your Vulcan nerve pinch on me, to start with." I kissed her gently, careful not to spark the fire. "But I don't think it would be wise to continue. Not now."

"Because?"

"Because the next one is very sexy, and we don't want to spark the fire we can't extinguish. You should sleep now. Your teacher won't accept your sudden stardom as an excuse for ditching your next kung fu lesson."

She chuckled. "It was aikido, not kung fu, but we gave up on any kind of _art of fighting_ long ago. He now teaches me how to fight dirty."

"You seem to be a good student, then. Takeshi's happy with your progress. He says you're a natural talent."

Astrid gave me a suspicious look. "Really? He never says anything to me, except, occasionally, that I'm hopeless. Except maybe in kenjutsu. And kyudo. Takeshi's pleased with my archery skills. He still doesn't say anything, but I can see it."

"When did you start with archery lessons?"

"A few days ago. It's so easy." She stepped into the position for shooting. "Your arms must be completely steady and firm, but relaxed." Her arms went up above her head, then she slowly lowered them, mimicking the draw. "Then you imagine the trajectory." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them. "Once you feel it, you release the arrow."

"How do you _feel_ the trajectory? Never heard of anything like that."

"With practice, you can see with your inner eye where that path is in the space. There's only one perfect trajectory between point A, the tip of the arrow, and point B, the target. Once you find it, the rest is easy."

I shook my head. "Find the trajectory in the air? No big deal? Yeah, for an asanni."

"I'm not using my wizard energy. The whole point of my training is to equip me with some human skills, no?"

"Impressive. You're full of surprises, Miss Spock."

"Thank you. I see it as a thin red line. I align the arrow with it, I shoot, and—whiizzz! The arrow is on the target."

"And whiizzz? That's it?"

"Easy, told ya."

No wonder her teacher was impressed.

THE HOUSE WAS QUIET WHEN, the next morning, I took Blueberry downstairs to feed her. I'd never been a great cat person, but Astrid's little blue-eyed tabby had stolen my heart. Blue and I had quickly become fond of each other.

I found Ahmed in the living room, leafing through newspapers, waiting for me. Yesterday I'd mentioned doing the floors in the master bedroom in my house and he'd offered to help.

"I let myself in," he said. "The door was unlocked."

"No one locks the door here," I said. "Coffee?"

He nodded. "That would be great."

"So, how do you like it here?" I asked as I came back with two mugs in my hands sometime later.

He blew at his coffee and took a sip. "As if I returned home after a long trip. It's strange because I'd never felt anything like this. Not since I came back to Smyrna after my studies in Istanbul."

"I know the feeling. After my father died, I left. It was my escape, my way of dealing with my own pain and hurt, my fears and my mistakes. But I didn't resolve anything until I came back."

"Why did you leave? If you don't mind me asking?"

"I told you about the circumstances of my father's death. Red Cliffs chose me for their einhamir. They expected me to go to war with Seth. Hell, _I_ wanted the war. It was my duty to avenge my father and his friend."

"But James thought otherwise?"

"Yes. James was older, wiser. More experienced and less self-doubtful. Seth killed his brother—and his best friend, my father—and I know how much he wanted revenge. But he knew it wasn't the right time. We were not ready."

Memories rushed back. Terrible, searing pain. My father's mutilated, unrecognizable body. My mother's almost inhuman grief. The thick, dangerous silence that had fallen over the town. James's strong hands around my upper arms, as if he had tried to restrain me. "No, Jack," he'd said, his face only inches from mine, his eyes stern and cold. "We can't go to war with Copper Ridge. Seth is too strong, and you and I are not bloody Agamemnon and Menelaus. Don't let those hotheads push you into a conflict you're not sure you can win. If we attack now, Seth will have us right where he wants us. Innocent people would die, here and in Copper Ridge. The bloody bastard has enough weapons and soldiers to fuck us up. What if he gets Astrid? What if he takes over Red Cliffs? We can't let that happen. We have to avoid conflict by any means. And wait. Be smart and wait. Seth has started this, we'll finish it. I swear on my blood we will finish it."

"I refused the position and James stepped in," I continued. "He made a few bold moves and won over the hard line. I left for the sake of everyone. Not because I was a coward; I never had been, but Red Cliffs needed a better leader than me. My only regret was that I had to leave my mother. She was alone and devastated."

"Tough decisions. You both did what was the best for the clan."

"James had never wanted to be an einhamir. Maybe that's why he was great. As great as my father once had been. When the time came, he stepped back as easily as he stepped in, and let me take over."

For a while, Ahmed was lost in his thoughts. "I'm thankful that you offered for me to join your clan, more than I can express. It's a privilege."

I smiled. "Likewise, my friend. I don't think it was a coincidence that we met, but I'm glad we did."

"I came here to find something," Ahmed said. "I don't know what, but this is the place where I have to be now. And I'll fight for it as I would for my home."

"You won't wait for long, I'm afraid."

"Yeah. It's close. I was a soldier once, I can feel it."

"Seth brought in more Tel-Urughs," I said. "I've just gotten the message."

"Do you think he plans to attack Red Cliffs?"

"It'd be crazy, but then again, he _is_ crazy. It's possible he has some kind of raid in mind. Or siege. He's deep into that medieval shit. Did you hear about his fortress? He made a mini-replica of Krak des Chevaliers, no less."

"We're not going to wait for him to attack, I suppose."

"No. We'll pay _him_ a visit. Before it's too late. Astrid's mother's life and many others hang by a silken thread."

"I want to take part in training your people," Ahmed said. "I've been thinking about Astrid's martial arts training. I'm a soldier from a different time. A good swordsman. If it comes to an open battle, I suspect you'll fight with daggers, and short swords, some firearms. I can teach our people to use _kilij_ the Turkish curved saber. An unknown weapon combined with our skills—it could be a nasty surprise."

I liked the idea. "Where can we get them?"

"Leave it to me. How many do you think we need? About fifty, sixty?"

"That'll suffice. Liv's Tel-Urughs won't need them."

"How many people can you count on?"

"About two hundred of the strongest men and women. I could bring a thousand, but I don't think taking a large number of people would be a good idea. It should be a swift action. A blitz, not a siege. Then, there will be about twenty of Livia and Tristan's Tel-Urugh acquaintances and a dozen of the top upiri hunters are on standby."

"Where did she find them? The upiri hunters?"

"Courtesy of Liv and Tristan's friend, their former commander from the war with the Usurper."

His eyebrow arched. "The Axeman?"

"Do you know him?"

"Only by reputation. I was in Europe during the war with the Usurper, but I know who he is. Have you ever met him?"

"No, but I'd like to."

"Who wouldn't?" Ahmed murmured. "The man is a living legend. Now, who else can we count on?"

"The Blakes, naturally. Astrid's friend, Ingmar Mortensen and his parents. Quite powerful wizards, all three of them, I hear." Soon the Blakes and Ingmar would move to Magda Offenbach's ranch house close to the Copper Ridge border. Her ranch was isolated, off the main road, and additionally protected from accidental wanderers not only by the thick aspen grove but also by the combined magic of all three races. His parents had taken fictitious jobs in one of the hotels by the ski tracks, to be close. "Astrid's grandparents," I continued with the listing, "Ellida Morgaine, Adam Mackenzie, my friend and former partner, a Spec Ops agent. Takeshi and his father. Over there, in Copper Ridge, we can count on Darius and his people, Seth's police force and the members of the resistance. I'm not taking any gwerin with us, except Master Nakamura. No matter how skilled, they're not a match for werewolf and Tel-Urugh mercenaries."

"That'll suffice."

"I think so," I said and drained the last sip of my coffee.

"Astrid?"

An invisible, cold hand squeezed my heart. Fear. "She'll stay here."

Ahmed gave me a doubtful look.

"If I have to lock her up, I will," I said. "She's not going close to Copper Ridge."

Ahmed stood up and picked up the empty cups. "Let me wash these and then we can go."

I motioned toward the kitty, sleeping tucked against my thigh. "Let me first take Blue back to Astrid."

Chapter Fifty-One

Astrid

OUR HOUSE WAS READY for us.

The main floor was now one expansive open-plan space, filled with cozy sofas, armchairs and an antique dining room set. It extended into a roomy kitchen with a more intimate dining area. The furniture was a combination of old and new. Jack's father's hobby had been furniture making and he had made the dining room set when he'd married Eve. It was beautiful, elegant, high-gloss furniture made of dark cherry wood. Two armchairs and an octagonal coffee table were also his work. The rest of the furniture was new, carefully chosen to complement the antique pieces.

Decorated in a perfect balance of warm and cold colors, it felt homey and inviting.

The master suite, a spacious room with a high ceiling and dark wood beams, had soothing creamy-white walls, russet flooring and mahogany furniture.

The rugged woods perfectly balanced the feminine touches: my elegant pink vases and blankets, Japanese ink paintings above the headboard, soft lighting and an oval standing mirror in a delicate rosewood frame. There was a built-in closet, two attached bathrooms—a smaller one with a shower, and a big one with a huge, vintage claw-foot bathtub—a custom-made bed, a sofa and a table for two.

Two armchairs beside the fireplace with a thick, soft carpet and double curtains made our bedroom an intimate and cozy place.

The guest bedrooms needed more furniture, some only curtains or rugs. The second biggest room, connected to the master bedroom by a door, was empty. One day, it would be a nursery.

Jack and I planned to move in right after my next shifting.

ONE AFTERNOON, THREE DAYS BEFORE my change, Jack and I took off to Red Cliff Mountain in my Ferrari. I was moody, irritable and more than a little scared. I couldn't shake off a creepy feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Our favorite spot was a small plateau near the bottom of the mountain with a beautiful view of the town and the mountain range that surrounded it.

We sat on a big flat rock near the road. Jack wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me against his chest.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine," Jack said and kissed the crown of my head. "We're going to make love, that's it."

Darn. I forgot to tell him. Or perhaps he already knew?

I lifted my head. "Maybe it's not just that. Do you know that my spirit merging may not happen at once?"

"What do you mean?"

A fresh wave of annoyance washed over me making my skin prickle. Why had no one told him and asked him if he was going to be okay with _that_? "It means that, according to Ellida Morgaine, I will turn into a crazy sex machine for twenty-four hours, and you will need to satisfy me."

He tipped my chin and pulled back to have a better look at my face.

"Is that so?" he said with a wicked smile. I'm looking forward to it. We'll enjoy it while it lasts, it's not going to happen again."

I rolled my eyes. "You overconfident, over-virile, over-sexy blaidd!"

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm about to have sex with the most alluring woman in the world."

"Well, if you are not concerned, why should I be? I'll be on the receiving end."

He tapped the tip of my nose. "Yeah, dream on. My success totally depends on your engagement, so you'd better do your best."

"I plan to," I said and chuckled. The knot in my stomach eased up. The sudden breeze cooled my flushed cheeks, making me feel almost normal.

Nothing would happen, I said to myself. Jack was here, his scent reassuring, his strong body my shield. It was just my anxiety. One of the crucial events of my life was about to happen. After all, premonitions were nothing but the fears we couldn't control, weren't they?

Then his phone rang, and the feeling of dread returned with full force.

As if in slow motion, I watched Jack take the call. His eyebrows furrowed, his face paled. He asked a few brief questions—when, where, how bad, finishing the call with a brisk, gloomy, "I'll be there as soon as possible."

He turned to me. "I have to go to San Francisco."

"No."

I wasn't sure if I'd said that or if the word just flashed through my mind.

"I'll be back tomorrow night or at the latest on Monday. The full moon is on Tuesday night. I give you my word I'll be back in time."

"What happened? Why do you need to go?" I asked. My body trembled, my voice was shaky. I wanted to cry.

Jack held my hands between his. The warm, soothing river of our bond ran between us. I took a deep breath, fighting the panic.

And there was someone else who had a say in it, too.

" _Don't let him go!"_ my blaidd benywaidd screamed at the top of her lungs. " _I don't know if I can handle one more change alone."_

" _Stop it!"_ I yelled back at her and then turned my anger to Jack. "What's going on? Who's so important that you'll leave me two days before the change?"

"A woman I know is in the hospital in critical condition. Her husband beat her up. Before she passed out, she gave the staff my phone number."

"Why yours? Doesn't she have a family? Friends? Anybody?"

"I'm her friend. She doesn't have family."

I didn't like it at all. "Who is she?"

"My ex-girlfriend," Jack said. "We used to date a few years ago."

I stiffened. "Lani?"

" _Lani!"_ my wolf barked out at the same time.

Jack gave me a sharp look. "How do you know her name?"

"Livia told me about her."

"Astrid, I have to go. She's in bad shape. She might not recover. I have to see her."

I blew out a long breath. "Are you going to turn her to save her life?"

"I'll do anything to save her, Astrid. If she's still alive when I arrive."

The doctor inside me understood it perfectly. My angry blaidd benywaidd calmed down, ready for action. "I'll go with you. I can help."

"No, it's too late for you to go anywhere."

He was right. "Then what are you waiting for? Off you go."

ONE HOUR LATER, JACK TOOK off to San Francisco in James's plane.

I couldn't stay inside, couldn't deal with the questions and worried glances. I needed some peace and quiet to collect my thoughts, so I drove back to the plateau.

My wolf was quiet.

" _If something unpredictable happens,"_ I said to her softly, " _you and I are going to do it on our own. One more time."_

She didn't say anything.

" _We can do that, can't we?"_ I pleaded. _"Just this time."_

" _I'm scared, Miss Spock. I've never been before, but I am now."_

Her voice was soft, wary and sounded very young.

" _I'm here. We'll be okay,"_ I said tenderly.

My sassy, brave, mighty blaidd benywaidd, my inner daredevil, had allowed me to see her vulnerable, terrified, exposed. I felt so close to her that I felt I could touch her.

" _What if Jack needs to stay longer?"_

I heard her deep, resolute sigh. _"Oh, hell. We'll do it without him. I hope he'll save that girl."_

"He will," I said, impressed by her reaction. The crisis was over, mine as well as hers. Together, we could do it one more time. My blaidd benywaidd and I.

The sound of my ringtone startled us both.

Peyton, calling from Seattle.

"Hey, there," I said, trying to sound normal.

"For heaven's sake, what's going on? Jack just phoned and Ingmar took off. He said he had to go to San Francisco with Jack. What happened? Where are you now? Why isn't Jack with you? The full moon is in two days and he's in a different part of the country. How are you going to—"

"Hold on, Peyton. I'll be fine," I said, stopping the frustrated and worried torrents of words. I took a deep breath and told her what happened to Lani.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. That's terrible. Will she be okay?"

"I don't know."

"I'm coming back. I'll stay with you."

"No. You are _so not_ coming back, Peyton. Jack will be back soon, and so will Ingmar."

I heard a soft chuckle. "Is that an order, Ellida?"

"You bet it is. It's going to be okay, Peyton. I'd rather hear about your weekend so far."

There was a short silence before Peyton whispered, "Astrid, we are bond mates."

"That's fantastic!"

"It's overwhelming. I'm half-crazy because he needed to go, like a part of me has gone with him."

"How do you feel it? Is it like a warm current that spreads inside you, and you think you can't live without him anymore?"

She chuckled. "Yes, just like that."

"What about Ingmar? He's a wizard. The physical manifestation of the bond must be different for him."

"Why do you ask me?" Peyton said, laughing. "How do you feel it, wizard?"

"Like a werewolf," I laughed back.

"He was fascinated. I guess we feel it mostly through blood, and wizards through their energy flow. At least that's what Ingmar says. Like everything inside you suddenly falls into perfect balance. Now back to you. What are you going to do?"

Good question. "I'll wait. I don't want my family around, that much I know. If they try to stay with me, I'll run away, I swear. If Jack isn't back by Monday, I'll ask Livia and Tristan to come and stay with me. They've done it many times before."

"Where are you now? How are you feeling?"

"I'm on the plateau above the town, sitting on my car hood. How do I feel? Oversensitive, moody, horny."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?"

I rolled my eyes. "I am absolutely sure. Jack will be here. I know he will. What are you going to do?"

"Curl up in bed with a book, I guess. Ingmar has an impressive library... Oh, God. They're going to save her, aren't they?"

"They are," I said, with an unexpected sense of confidence. The most important stage of my life would not start with someone's death. I was an ellida. It simply couldn't happen. "I have to go, Peyton. Don't worry about me."

"Call me if you want to talk later. Okay?"

"Sure. Don't worry, I'm fine."

No sooner had I finished the call than my phone went off once more. Tristan. Livia had gone to San Francisco to meet with Jack and Ingmar, he said.

Jack had taken two doctors with him, one wizard and one Tel-Urugh. He believed human medicine was insufficient to help Lani.

"Why didn't you go?" I asked. "You have more experience with traumatic injuries."

"Yes, but Liv's an _ulmah-daar_."

"Oh." I knew what ulmah-daar was; I didn't know Liv was one of them. Ulmah-daar were Tel-Urughs with a license to turn a mortal into one of their kind and on their own discretion. There was only a handful of them. Now that I thought of it, it made perfect sense. Liv had been one of the strongest and greatest Tel-Urughs that ever lived.

"I hope she'll save Lani," I said.

"If Lani's heart was still beating when Liv got there, she'll live. Livia will do it for Jack. Now, tell me how you are."

"Fever, sore muscles, shivers, nothing unusual. My wolf's strong. Listen, if Jack and Liv aren't back by Monday morning, can you come and stay with me?"

"Sure. We can meet at the Watchman's. I'll be there by Monday afternoon. We can go to Magda's cabin." He chuckled. "A chance to check out our future place."

I told him Peyton was in Seattle. "She's at Ingmar's, all by herself. It was supposed to be a romantic weekend. Do you mind inviting her for dinner?"

"Ingmar's _girlfriend?_ Son of a gun! I noticed he hasn't been quite himself lately. He hums all the time, he makes jokes. Imagine. A wizard in love." He chuckled and added, "Of course I'll invite her. Text me her phone number and I'll call her."

"Thank you, my friend."

"Don't mention it. Everything will be fine, but if not, we have to have a backup plan, all right?"

"All right. Love you."

"Love you too. Take care."

It's always good to have a backup plan, indeed.

TRISTAN PHONED ON SATURDAY EVENING asking if I'd heard from Jack. Sobbing heavily, I said I hadn't. He said he'd be on his way.

On Sunday, around three p.m., he phoned again and asked me to come to the Watchman's. "Room 36A. I checked myself in as Mr. Whyte. How long will it take you to get here?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Are you able to drive?"

"Sure, providing that I'm able to sneak out of the house first. James put me under 24-hour surveillance," I said.

I'd spent the previous day in the house under my family's watchful eye. I told them that I'd asked Tristan to stay with me. My uncle was visibly upset, Eve worried, Morgaine just smirked and Eamon said, "Jack will be back, don't worry."

I was the only owner of a red Ferrari in Red Cliffs, so to avoid unnecessary attention, I hopped into my less noticeable dark blue pickup. It took me less than fifteen minutes to drive to the Watchman's.

I parked it in the back alley, in a spot reserved for the staff. I brushed my tears away—I'd been crying all day and a good part of the previous night—took a deep breath and entered the hotel through the back door.

"Hi, Martina," I greeted the receptionist. "A friend of mine, Mr. Whyte, is expecting me. He's in 36A. Could you tell him I'm on my way?"

She smiled at me. "Sure, Miss Mohegan. I mean, Ellida. I'll let your _friend_ know you're coming."

There was something a little bit off in her smile or her voice, but I didn't have time to dally there.

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, I sprinted up the stairs to the third floor. There I suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Although my sense of smell was partly numbed from a long cry, I could still detect the familiar, beloved, arousing scent of my man.

"Jack!" I cried in such relief I thought my heart would burst, and flew toward room 36A. Before I touched it, the door swung open.

"I promised I'd be back, Astrid."

I flew into Jack's open arms, unable to say a word.

I looked into his smiling face and his wolfish, amber eyes.

"Now I'll drag you to the cave, baby, and play with you there for a while," he said, smiling.

I closed my hands around his neck. "First tell me what happened to Lani. Is she going to be okay?"

"She'll be fine. Liv healed her."

"Healed?"

"Yes." Jack lifted me up and carried me through the entire hotel and across the parking lot all the way to his truck. "Now let me take you home."

"But what about my truck?" I murmured, pressing my head against his chest and inhaling deeply his incredible scent.

"We'll pick up your truck tomorrow," he said. "Or maybe not tomorrow. In a couple of days."

Chapter Fifty-Two

Jack

I PULLED UP IN FRONT of my house and picked up Astrid from the truck and carried her right to the bedroom.

Her eye color shifted between blue and amber, indicating her resurfacing wolf. Yet, this time, she wasn't in pain.

I put her down on the bed. "Let me help you undress," I said and started unbuttoning her shirt. "Your clothes must hurt you."

"My skin is sensitive and I'm so horny that it makes me dizzy, but otherwise, I'm fine." She breathed out a deep sigh. "I'm relieved Lani is fine."

I carefully peeled the shirt down her shoulders. She was hot to the touch and her skin was covered with goosebumps. Underneath the shirt, she wore a black camisole but no bra—I guessed it would be too irritating. The stretchy fabric was soft and taut, outlining her perky breasts and hard nipples. It took some effort to tear my gaze away from her chest, rising and falling in a slow rhythm. "I went after that bastard husband of hers," I said.

"I hope you caught him and made him pay."

"Unfortunately, not. He crossed the Canadian border and I didn't have time to follow him there. We'll find him, sooner or later."

"Hopefully before he hurts somebody else," she said, opened the fly of her jeans and lifted her hips to remove them. "So, Liv turned Lani?"

"It was either Liv or me," I said, freeing her legs one by one. "Lani wouldn't have made it otherwise."

"Why didn't you turn her into a werewolf?"

"Liv thinks Lani's better suited as a Tel-Urugh than as a blaidd benywaidd. Don't think about that now. Just relax."

"I hope I'll meet her one day. Now, what about Tristan? He phoned me to come to the Watchman's."

"He was about to leave. I caught him at the last moment. I wanted to surprise you."

"Nice surprise." Her eyes narrowed. "You are still dressed," she said in a husky voice. "Do something about it if you want to join me for a shower."

I chuckled and pulled her to her feet. "We're bossy today, aren't we?"

WE FINISHED UNDRESSING EACH OTHER, leaving scattered clothing all the way to the bathroom.

I stepped into the stall and started the shower, adjusting the water temperature. "Come," I said, and reached for Astrid's hand. God, she was burning. "Still feeling okay, baby?"

"Never been better in my life," she said in her deep, wolfish voice and reached for my hand. She closed her eyes and pressed her hot lips over mine.

It seemed that lukewarm water soothed her feverish skin. I grabbed the soap bar and lathered my hands and ran them across her breasts, her stomach, her bottom. She rested her head against my shoulder.

Time stopped. I didn't know how long we stayed in the shower. When we came out, the sun was setting, bathing the bedroom in golden light.

I walked Astrid to the bed, nudged her toward the middle and slid in beside her.

"So, this is the big night," Astrid said with a deep, satisfying stretch.

"Only the first of many to come, my love." I dipped my head and started worshipping every inch of her with my mouth.

A little bit later—or much later— on the brink of release, Astrid said, panting, "Jack, I want you inside me. It's too much. I don't think I can wait any longer."

"It's time, yes. Before that, baby, you need to do something for me. I touched and kissed every part of you. You need to do the same before I take you. Just a little touch of your lips, Astrid. Can you do that?"

She opened her heavy-lidded blue eyes. "I _want_ to do that."

She blinked, and looked at me, a twinkle in her amber eyes. "I want to take you in my mouth," she said in that throaty, sultry voice of her blaidd benywaidd.

Oh, this was going to be such fun!

She closed her eyes again and kissed her way down, from my throat, across my chest, to my abdomen. When she reached my cock, she took me in her hand and, parting her lips, took me in. And licked, and sucked, and kissed until I almost exploded.

I took her head between my palms and pulled her away. "I want to be inside you, baby. It's been a lot of foreplay, sweetheart. It's too much pressure for you."

"I don't think I can take much more, Jack," she whispered.

I parted her thighs, exposing her shiny, moist sex to my view. "Magnificent," I whispered and pushed inside her slippery cleft.

The moment my flesh touched her, it started swelling. Like a finely tuned instrument, her body adjusted to it in an instant.

"The knot," she murmured to herself, amused. "You have the knot."

"My God, Astrid. Didn't you know?"

She didn't answer. "Oh, this is so good. You're so hard Jack, and my womb is so thirsty."

I kissed her, deep and hard, cupped her breasts, stroking them, rubbing their swollen tips. Half mad from the need to mark her—with my seed, with my scent, with my teeth—I lowered my head and bit the soft curve of her neck.

She flexed her hips faster in response. "Deeper, Jack. Give me more."

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

At first, I didn't know if she'd registered my words because she didn't say anything. I mustered the last threads of self-control and slowed down.

Well, she registered _that_. "No, oh, no. Don't stop, Jack." Her voice was thick with a primal satisfaction. She moved her hips. "Oh, Jack, it's too sweet. Too much... More."

Our bodies fell into a perfect rhythm. The pleasure mounted, mounted, mounted.

Astrid came first in a series of long spasms. Her body shuddered and trembled, releasing years worth of accumulated sexual energy. A deep, guttural sound came out of her chest, a human groan and a wolf howl all at once.

As her climax waned, mine reached its peak. A split second before I spilled myself into her, I heard my blaidd howling, joining his mate.

"I THINK I LOST a piece of time," Astrid murmured sometime later, her eyes still closed. I lay sprawled over her, locked inside her.

"You passed out for a moment. Sometimes, if your orgasm's hard enough, you can pass out. You know that; it's a medical fact."

"I knew that. Theoretically."

"Now you know it empirically. How are you feeling, baby, passing out aside?"

"Fantastic." She kissed me. "You?"

"Like the king of the world."

She chuckled. "You just knotted me, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh. You really didn't know about the knot, did you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Astrid, my love, even popular fiction got it right," I said, amused for a moment by her unfamiliarity with this particular detail of our anatomy. But then, how could she know? She'd been raised outside of our world and had never had a blaidd lover before. The right question would be—how come I didn't anticipate her lack of knowledge and tell her about the knot?

"I thought it _was_ fiction! I never thought about that. It's not visible to the naked eye, is it? Or perhaps I didn't notice it."

"No, you can't tell us apart from humans unless you know. But somehow I assumed you knew."

She wiggled beneath me. "It was a nice surprise. It felt wonderful. Every man should have it."

"Oh, no! Then we wouldn't be the best lovers among all the men." I flexed my hips, too; I was still rock hard. In response, she tightened her inner muscles around me. God, she was tight like a dream.

"I thought vampires were considered the top drawer," she said.

I snorted. "Sure. In popular fiction."

"I can feel it, but it isn't where it's supposed to be," she said.

"Honey, it's right where it is supposed to be."

"Okay, it's not where I _expected_ it to be. It's on the head of your penis, not on its base, like in wolves."

I threw my head back and laughed. "That's because I'm not a wolf, my love. What we have isn't a knot in the animal sense. It's the gland that starts at the base of the penis and runs to the top. It makes the penis thicker, and it locks the top inside the womb, not the base, as in wolves."

"Is it going to disappear when you pull out?"

"More or less," I said and scraped my teeth across her collarbone. "You can feel the gland under the skin, but if you don't know about it, my cock looks like a human's, only thicker. If I pressed a spot right above your clitoris, it would unlock us. This is a sort of natural emergency release."

"My womb is adjusted to accept it, I suppose?"

"Correct."

"My uterus doesn't look any different than a human's."

"It _is_ slightly different. It's designed to grip the penis tighter. Your inner muscles are stronger than a human woman's. It gives a male the same pleasure as the knot gives to a female. That's why sex between two werewolves is more intense and our orgasms stronger than humans'." I kissed her shoulder. "Both features are a sort of 'anatomy on demand'. It's relevant only when we have sex with another werewolf."

"So, when you have sex with humans, they don't feel it?"

"The gland swells slightly with other partners, but usually there is no locking. Human women feel us like, well, a plus-size. Some say a woman has to have some of our blood in her to 'turn on' her partner's gland enough for locking, but I'm sure it happens with anyone you deeply care about. When we give all that we have."

"When we give all that we have," she repeated softly. "What a way to say it, Jack. Back to the knot, is it the last thing I need to know regarding our sex life?"

"I saved the best for last. You know that we have an above average sex drive, don't you?"

"I can live with that. What else?"

"We like variety, we like spontaneous sex, anytime, anywhere. Pretty much all that kinky stuff you've been mentioning all the time."

"I can live with that, too." She squeezed my cock once more. "We're still locked. How long does it last?"

"Depends. From ten minutes to half an hour. Do you want me to release it manually? You'll feel some pressure and hear a loud pop."

"No!"

I chuckled. "As you wish, ma'am."

"What will happen when it releases?"

"The pressure will start to build up again, and we'll make love again."

She looked from under her lashes. "And again, and again. Are you going to be okay, Jack?"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." As if confirming my last statement, my hard flesh started swelling again.

"Whoa! It's my sexual energy that's supposed to build, not yours."

"You're sizzling hot, baby. I can't help it."

After a while, the knot eased, and I slid out. I rolled us until Astrid was on top of me. I framed her head with my hands, lifted my head, and I closed my mouth over hers, in a deep, sweet kiss.

ASTRID'S LONG SUPPRESSED SEXUAL DESIRE quickly built up again, demanding to be released. Both her spirits stayed close to the surface. It was easy to tell which one was dominant at a certain moment and not only by the color of her eyes. Astrid's sexual response was an even better indicator. Her blaidd benywaidd was more open, noisier, wilder, more demanding. Her dynes was gentle and soft, although not less passionate.

Between lovemaking, we talked, took showers, ate. Astrid was burning an incredible amount of energy, and she needed plenty of food.

She drank a lot of water and even took a few quick naps. Within hours, her temperature dropped to a normal level, there was no pain, discomfort or muscle weakness. She was bursting with life and energy.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Astrid

THE CURTAINS WERE PULLED BACK, allowing the silvery light to spill all over the room. The moon, a swollen, pale yellow melon, just one night away from its full, perfect orb, shone in the ink-black sky. This time it didn't affect me. My wolf was happy in her human body. My human soul was at peace with her wolf self.

Jack had loved me over and over again. Every time our bodies had joined, every time when he'd brought me to another climax—sometimes explosive, sometimes gentle like the touch of a feather—I'd felt more and more of my two spirits merging.

I was tired, but it wasn't over yet. I needed him again. One more time. It was my need, and my heat, that had woken me up.

I turned my head to face Jack. He was awake, too. He was smiling. I bent my head and buried my nose in his neck, inhaling his scent. I'd never have enough of this man.

My man. My lover. My life.

"I love you." My hand stroked his face, tracing the line of his strong jaw.

Jack closed his eyes, surrendering himself to my touch. I kissed his closed eyelids and temples and moved to his soft and warm lips.

"Take me, baby," he whispered. "I'm yours."

I kissed his neck, his chest, his abdomen, slowly moving downwards. Jack let out a soft moan, still trying not to move, as if afraid to break the spell.

He let me love him with the gentle touch of my lips and my tongue.

"I want you inside me. Take me hard, Jack. Make love to me like there is no tomorrow."

With a quick motion, he flipped me over and pinned me under his body and entered me in a single, hard stroke.

I felt the knot swelling inside me, the incredible sense of being filled up completely, of being joined with the magnificent male body above me. I gasped in sheer delight, clinging to him. My mouth sought his and claimed it in a ferocious kiss. Jack started moving inside me, in long, hard thrusts.

"Let go now, Astrid. Let go."

Both my spirits submitted to the unmistakable command in his voice and soared to meet each other. My body rose up to meet his, shiny from sweat and hot from passion.

The first hard spasms shook my very core, spreading across my body like wildfire. Jack's body tightened and stilled then he shuddered his cock jerking and sputtering his release into my womb.

Amid the rushing sound of my blood and the loud beating of my heart, I heard Jack's moans and my cries. And then, a surge of white-hot pleasure soared throughout my body, mind and soul.

" _I'm home, Astrid!"_ I heard my wolf before her deep, happy laugh disappeared inside my mind.

"Welcome home, blaidd benywaidd," I said aloud. Tears ran down my face, blurring my vision, but I didn't wipe them away.

Jack took me in his arms and held me tight. I rested my head against his bare chest and listened to the rhythmic sounds of his heart.

I closed my eyes and drifted into sleep.

WHEN I WOKE UP, it was night again. I felt rested, strong, bursting with a vitality different from the familiar wizard vigor.

I was a full-fledged blaidd benywaidd.

I kept my eyes closed, assessing my surroundings with my other senses.

Jack was awake, but lay quietly beside me, letting me explore my new self.

First, smell. I sniffed a new quality in my natural scent: the finest hint of musk. Jack's mark on me.

I'd marked my territory, too. Underneath his scent, I could smell myself on Jack. So, that was how everybody else in our world knew we belonged to each other. Cool.

I could distinguish even the subtle smells: the wood of the floor, the fabric of the sofa, bedsheets, the wall paint. The wind, gently moving the curtains. Grass, trees, even a small creek in the forest. The feeling wasn't completely new—I'd become aware of it and its sounds and smells and tastes the first time I'd hunted in the forest.

Next—hearing. Like a month ago when I'd chased the deer, I was aware of every sound around me: the beats of my heart and flow of my blood, Jack's heartbeats, his breathing—he was awake, and he was aware I wasn't sleeping anymore—the gentle movement of the tree crowns, a dog howling at the edge of the town, a single car passing by my uncle and aunt's house.

All these sounds didn't create a cacophony in my head. They coexisted in harmony, each of them distinctive, sharp yet soft, like a very clear whisper. And I realized I was able to tune out those I didn't need at the moment. Or all of them, if that suited my fancy.

After that, I explored my new tactile abilities. I ran my fingers across Jack's upper arm. The warm river rushed through my body, stronger and warmer than ever before.

"That's how you've been feeling it all this time," I whispered, keeping my eyes closed. "It wasn't as strong for me." It'd been wonderful; it made me feel one with Jack. Now there was a whole new dimension to it.

"What time is it? Can you tell?" Jack asked.

My inner clock told me the exact time: "3:15 a.m. I slept for almost twenty-four hours."

"You needed it. Are you happy with your new skills?"

"I'm delighted. I haven't checked my enhanced sense of taste and sight yet," I said and pressed myself against Jack. I found his mouth and kissed him long and tenderly. "Mmmm. You taste incredible, better than ever before," I murmured between kisses, moving from his lips to the sweet hollow of his neck.

Free from uncontrollable lust, safely tucked in Jack's arms, I explored him with my awakened senses, breathing in his incredible scent that was a part of me now, holding the length and width of his swollen flesh in my hands. His fingers parted me, stroking, probing, making me ready for him.

Jack kissed my breasts, one by one, playing gently with their tips. His hands moved to my bare bottom, cupping and squeezing it. He rolled me under him, opening my legs, angling me for easy penetration. He entered me slowly, with infinite tenderness, and started moving inside me in long, unhurried strokes.

I caught up with Jack's easy rhythm. I raked my fingers through his hair and buried my head in his neck, savoring him with my skin, my nose and my taste buds. I felt safe, powerful and protected because of that strong body inside me.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear and started pouring himself into me, triggering a string of pre-climaxes, each one stronger than the previous one, until the final tremor hit me with the force of a tornado.

"OPEN YOUR EYES, ASTRID," Jack whispered into my ear much later. "I'm curious to see them."

Slowly I lifted my eyelids and let Jack get used to my new eye color. An amused glint in his own eyes told me they had changed.

I looked around. It was still dark outside. The moon was hidden behind the heavy, greyish clouds that announced a new dump of snow. I could smell it now. The room was in almost complete darkness, yet I could see everything: every shape, every contour and every shadow, clear and sharp.

"So, what do you say?" I said.

He smiled. "Magnificent! You should see yourself."

"Blue and amber. They could only be green now. What about my hair?" I asked and took a lock of my hair between my fingers, examining it carefully. It hadn't changed a lot. It was still light, still honey-blond, only the copperish hue was a tad more prominent. "Good. I thought I might end up a redhead. I rather like my hair as it is."

"Come, have a look," Jack said tugging me out of the bed and towing me to the bathroom.

Eyes still shut, I stood in front of the mirror. Jack was behind me, his hands on my shoulder. "Ready?"

I opened my eyes. No matter how prepared I was to find them changed, it was still a small shock.

Two deep green eyes stared into me from the mirror. They were beautiful, still framed by thick, dark lashes, still almond-shaped like their blue counterparts, still luminous. But the green hue made them look so different that I blinked several times as if trying to break the illusion.

"How would you describe this color?" I asked Jack, unable to take my eyes away from my eyes.

"James's green," he said with a chuckle. "Your uncle will be over the moon. But look," he motioned toward the mirror, smiling at my reflection, "there is a touch of blue close to the pupils, and golden flecks sprinkled all around."

"Now I know why I picked the green pendant. Subconsciously, I knew my eyes would become green so I chose the matching pendant."

"I think so, too. They are stunning."

They were. What thrilled me even more was the fact that now my vision, together with my other senses, had improved.

I turned around to look at Jack. "I should now be able to change at will, shouldn't I? How do I do that?"

"You just do."

"You sure?" I asked, skeptical.

"Why don't you try?"

"Is it safe? It's still the full moon."

He ran his knuckles alongside my face. "Trust your instincts, Astrid. What are they telling you?"

I stood motionless for a moment, listening to my inner senses, and then laughed. "They're telling me that, since I'm already naked, it's the perfect time to change."

As I said it, I started shifting from my feet up, in the same pattern as Jack's transformation. It tickled a bit, and I could feel gentle bone shifting, some stretching and pulling, but that was it. Painless, effortless, much slower than before. At the precise moment my arms turned into front legs, I lowered my body and they touched the floor.

"See, a piece of cake," Jack said and kissed my muzzle.

" _Oh, I love it!"_ I said happily. _"Let me out now."_

We walked to the front door. Jack opened it and then changed shape.

I stepped outside, feeling like an energy bomb.

I sprinted across the lawn, between the houses, my instinct easily finding shortcuts to the forest. Jack ran by my side until we came to the clearing.

We rolled together, chased each other, splashed through the creek and ran to the top of a small hill on the edge of the forest. We spotted a deer herd in front of us, but I wasn't in a chasing mood. I smelled a pack of wolves deeper in the forest, aware of our presence. Further down, a fox peeked out of her burrow, sniffed the air and quickly disappeared again.

It started snowing, in huge, wet snowflakes that melted away as soon as they touched the ground. I looked toward the milky grey sky, blinking away the snowflakes from my eyes and brushing them off my muzzle with my front paw.

" _Let me do that,"_ Jack said and licked my face, his tongue moist and warm. I licked him back, sniffed him, bit him gently and rolled over him on a wet, soft, thick yellowish-green layer of leaves, pine needles and grass. I jumped, bounced and laughed until my jaw hurt and my chest almost burst.

" _This is almost as good as sex with you,"_ I shrieked in pure delight.

" _There's nothing as good as sex with you, Miss Spock,"_ Jack said, laughing and panting.

I finally calmed down and stretched myself over Jack's sprawled body.

" _Now I'm ready for breakfast."_

" _Are you ready to face our family?"_ Jack teased me, nuzzling around my neck. _"They know exactly what we've been doing since Tuesday afternoon. There are going to be some questions, be prepared for that."_

I laughed happily. _"I'm as ready as I'll ever be. And about the questions, well, I'll pretend I have no recollection. You'll answer them. You've been with me all the time. And stop tickling me, Jack!"_

WE RAN BACK TO THE house. On the porch, I turned to Jack. _"My eyes, are they still green?"_

" _That's permanent now, regardless of your form."_ He fixed his gaze on me. _"You know what? That hint of blue when you're in your human shape, it's an amber undertone in your wolf form. But they are definitely green."_

I lifted my front leg. It hadn't changed. It was the same light russet as before.

"Yep, it's the same," Jack confirmed.

His voice came from behind me, not in my head.

I swung around. _"Oh, you're already done!"_ I said, amused at finding his nude, gorgeous self on the porch. _"Get inside. You don't want Red Cliffs to see their einhamir naked!"_ I laughed and pushed him toward the entrance.

Laughing along with me, he opened the door and let me in. "I'm going to take a shower, baby. Will you join me?"

Walking slowly backward toward the bathroom, Jack kept his eyes on me, watching my shifting.

It was as easy and natural as changing into a wolf had been before. It started with my head and ended with my feet. I stretched, bent my head back and forth, left and right several times, and let out a deep satisfied sigh. Jack lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bathroom.

One hour later and _very_ hungry by then, we crossed the lawn to my uncle and aunt's house.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Astrid

I WAS INAUGURATED THE FOLLOWING day. Dressed in a long silvery-white robe of a fabric so weightless and thin as though the light itself had been woven into it, I stood on the improvised podium in front of the entire Red Cliffs population, gathered in the small central square, I repeated the ancient oath, first Hen Iaith then in English.

"I, Astrid, from House Canagan, daughter of blaidd Harold and asanni Rowena, the Custodian of the Legacy of the First Ellida, The Defender of Týr, the One of Two Bloods, by my own free will and in good faith choose to become the ellida of the Red Cliffs Clan. I shall safeguard the interests of my people, gwerin y blaidd and gwerin alike, and honor the alliances my people made with the asyngaer and Tel-Urughs. I shall uphold our laws and do justice to all and protect our sacred territory with the powers entrusted to me."

The next detail hadn't been brought to my knowledge until the previous day, when I also learned about the ceremonial robe that Morgaine had brought with her but was too busy to mention, as well as about the ancient words and phrases I'd had to memorize for the occasion.

Wearing his ritual black and red uniform, Jack stepped closer. From the sheath attached to the elaborate belt around his waist, he pulled the Eid Rýtingur, a ceremonial dagger with a long, thin titanium blade and the full moon with a she-wolf head engraved in the hilt. I guessed it was the modern reproduction of the legendary original, which, according to tradition, the wizard king Elgar had forged for blaidd Harlan. Holding it by the blade, Jack offered the hilt to me.

I took the Eid Rýtingur in my left hand. Ignoring the frantic thumping of my heart, I curled the fingers of my right hand around the blade and slowly pulled the dagger free. The pain took my breath away. My eyes watered but I clenched my teeth and swallowed the scream.

The thick, warm blood flooded my palm. I lifted my hand, showing it to the crowd.

On the wings of the incredible energy that all but buzzed over the town square, I said in a strong voice, "I seal my oath with my blood."

Starting with Jack, one by one all the captains came up, took the blade and cut their palms, linking their hands with mine.

Each of them repeated the pledge of loyalty. "I vow my blood and the blood of my House to you, Ellida Astrid of Red Cliffs."

Twelve times I repeated, "I take your blood and the blood of your House, and I give you mine."

When it was over, Ellida Morgaine approached me with a strip of white linen in her hand and wrapped my cut.

The town square erupted with cheering, clapping and whistling. "You are ours and we are yours," they were telling me, and I smiled, pushing back tears. Yes, this was my home, my place. My people, my clan. A wonderful sense of belonging washed over me.

Jack came to me and bowed his head, right hand over his heart. "I receive you and do homage to you as our ellida in the name of the Red Cliffs clan."

When the noise finally died out, I addressed the crowd once more, to perform the last part of the ceremony. "I'm choosing your einhamir, John William Canagan, as my mate."

And just like that, I'd become one of the most powerful women of our realm.

The informal part of the celebration that followed lasted all night. Rawhide was in charge of the music, but tonight I didn't sing. When the guys pushed a bit too hard toward their own songs, Maggie took the microphone and brought them back on track with familiar and beloved pop and country songs.

The long tables were piled with food that magically stayed hot all the time. Countless kegs of beer and casks of wine were placed in several strategically chosen positions so that the townsfolk had easy access to them. Alcohol had little effect on werewolves, except a cheering one, so the atmosphere in the central square was merry and festive. People talked and laughed, kids bounced between them while small babies slept in their strollers or in their parents' arms.

The night ended with fireworks that turned the ultramarine sky of pre-dawn to a multicolored explosion of light.

When a thin orange glow lit up the eastern sky, Jack and I, the new alpha pair, and Red Cliffs' ellida and einhamir, walked home, hand in hand.

ON FRIDAY NIGHT, I WAS back at Goblin's Hollow.

The pub filled up to the last seat. We played classic rock, pop, and country, and the atmosphere was crazy.

Around midnight Eamon announced a fifteen-minute break, which was something new. When he saw my arched eyebrow, he just winked, murmuring, "Have a drink, Astrid. Jack asked to sing a song or two tonight."

Oh, my!

I sat at a table with Peyton and Lily, and, withholding tears, watched Jack take the microphone from the stand. His gaze found mine. "This song is for you, baby," he said and smiled.

A guitar and drum introduction, and then his deep, sensual baritone filled the air. Santana's _Smooth_ , one of my favorite songs.

When he finished, he blew me a kiss and said, "Astrid, come up on stage, please."

Aware of everybody's eyes on me, I took his outstretched hand and jumped on the stage.

Jack's mouth closed over mine in a hot, deep kiss that left us both breathless. A tiny part of my mind was aware of the cheery, delighted crowd, our family and friends at the nearest table and the band behind us. But I could only think about Jack, his lips and his arms around me.

"Holy smoke, you surely know how to kiss," he murmured when he finally released me. "Are you going to sing with me?"

"I am. What are we singing?"

He turned to Eamon and nodded. Leonard Cohen's _Dance Me to the End of Love_ was the next on Jack's list.

I did the backup singing and even sounded good, which was a miracle because it was an impromptu performance and because I felt I would burst into tears at any moment.

The night continued with more Leonard Cohen, more Santana, more _boys'_ love songs. Sometimes Jack sang alone, sometimes I'd join him.

Around two a.m. Jack made an announcement. "This is going to be the last song tonight."

_I'm Your Man_ , our song.

Oh, how grossly I'd underestimated Jack's romantic streak.

My eyes welled with tears and my heart wanted to jump out of my chest.

Jack's soft voice embraced me from inside, from outside, filling me with emotions stronger and more powerful than anything I'd felt before. It was a new dimension of love. A love I didn't even know was possible—a pure, absolute light, passion and harmony.

Everything else disappeared: the pub, the people inside, the band. It seemed that the music and Jack's voice were coming from somewhere above, from a different reality. There were only the two of us there, in a time and place that belonged only to us.

"I told you once that, by the time I finished singing you this song, everything would be fine. Do you remember?" Jack whispered in my ear during the instrumental part of the song.

"It didn't take me _that_ long," I whispered, brushing away tears with the back of my hand.

"I know. Took me even shorter. Now when I think about it, I know I was in love with you the moment your fingers touched my skin. Before I even saw you."

"I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too. More than life itself." He kissed me tenderly. "Will you marry me, Astrid?"

And then he took my left hand in his and slipped the ring on my finger. Before I could say a word, he continued with the song.

When the music stopped, silence fell over the pub.

Jack stood in front of me, looking into my eyes, holding my left hand, waiting.

"I will marry you, Jack Canagan," I said softly.

His lips met mine in a long kiss that made my head spin.

And then, slowly, the carousel in my head came to a stop.

"She said 'yes'!" Jack announced aloud, without moving his loving gaze from me.

It seemed that some sort of explosion had occurred inside Goblin's Hollow. The cheering, applauding and whistling was so loud that the windows rattled and walls vibrated.

When the lights turned on again, the magic of the night didn't disappear. I looked down at my hand for the first time since Jack slid the ring on my finger. In the middle of a wide platinum band, on a raised crown, sat a big rectangular pink diamond.

"Do you like it? Magda made it, but I told her exactly what I wanted."

I nodded, unable to utter a word, tears spilling down my cheeks. Jack brushed them away with his kisses.

"It's beautiful, Jack," I said in a shaky voice, and sniffed. "And the proposal. You really surprised me. I couldn't imagine anything more romantic."

"You're the happiest when you sing," he said, closing his arms around me. "That's why I proposed on stage."

I pressed my head on his chest and listened and closed my eyes. I didn't know how long we stood like that. At one moment, I noticed that the noise had subsided, and Goblin's Hollow's guests started leaving.

I lifted my head. "About the wedding, Jack—"

"Don't worry. I understand."

"When we finish with Seth."

"Then we'd better do that sooner rather than later."

Chapter Fifty-Five

Astrid

MY LIFE HAD BECOME SO normal that it was sometimes easy to forget the threat looming from the other side of the Great Orme. It was the calm before the storm, though. A glimpse into a life that we'd live once Seth was gone, a bittersweet reminder of how much we could lose.

A week after the town square inauguration, I started working at the clinic. The ski season was almost over, and with less broken bones and other ski-related injuries, the night shifts at Red Cliffs' ER were quiet. Every once in a while, there would be a child with an upset stomach, mild cold or flu symptoms, rarely something more serious.

Thanks to Dr. Falkenstein, the clinic opened the door for orthopedic patients from outside the town, who opted for the small, inexpensive but well-equipped medical center rather than waiting for months for a bed in their big city hospitals. Ahmed and I performed the most complicated surgeries.

During our quiet night shifts, he and I would sit in one of our offices and talk.

We still couldn't understand the strange closeness between us. Ahmed loved me and was protective of me as if I was his blood. I felt the same.

"There's something I want to ask you, Ahmed," I said one evening.

"Ask me, tatlim," he said softly.

Ahmed called me _tatlim_ , "sweetie", in his mother tongue. It sounded as fatherly and warm as James' "sweetheart".

"About turning one species into another."

Ahmed reclined in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Werewolf turning is done through blood exchange. It's a simple enough ritual, yet it easily can go wrong. Because of that, it should be done by the most skilled clan member."

"Do we know for sure that it wasn't Seth who turned my mother?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Because he's mad."

Ahmed shook his head. "He wouldn't have transferred it to her even if he had turned her. It doesn't work that way. It was a woman who turned her anyway."

"Livia has special permission to turn an individual into a Tel-Urugh. Do we need it?"

"Ah. She's an ulmah-daar. Of course," Ahmed said. "No, we don't need anything like that. We do that all the time. The humans who live with us are entitled to become one of us. Turning wizards and commoners, well, it's not a common practice, but it's the einhamir's prerogative. Or yours, for that matter. You can request it on their behalf. Tel-Urughs are already immortal, as strong as we are, perhaps even stronger, so no need to turn them. If you want to know more, turning is regulated by The Blood Law, which applies to all of us. There are several copies of it in the local library. The law is very precise about what we can or cannot do." He flexed his fingers and smiled. "That being said, in some instances, it's very easy. A gwerin female pregnant with a werewolf often spontaneously turns during the first trimester."

I arched an eyebrow. "What? I can't cast a simple tallin if I'm pregnant, but a human woman can turn into a werewolf just like that?"

"That's because you're a wizard, tatlim _._ In some ways, humans are tougher than the rest of us. A werewolf child in a human woman's womb makes it perfectly safe for her."

"I'm green with envy."

"Nature made it easy because humans are the key to our existence."

"Makes sense," I admitted.

He nodded and for a moment we sat in silence. I thought about my mother, an asanni and a blaidd benywaidd. She was so close, yet still it was as if she lived on another planet. Despite all my powers, I was helpless and it was breaking my heart.

Ahmed's gaze was at the window behind me, but it seemed that he was looking off into some other place beyond the vast sky and the Great Orme in the distance.

It turned out, it was much closer than his faraway look suggested. Just on the other side of the old hill, where my thoughts wandered so often. "She must be something special, your mother," he said with longing in his voice. Odder still, it intensified the feeling of closeness to him. "I'm looking forward to meeting her."

How could my mother be the connection between Ahmed and me?

Soon we discovered another invisible tie.

One night, I'd needed Ahmed urgently, but before I'd reached for the phone, a vivid image of him sitting in a lunchroom with a cup of tea in his hands shot through my mind.

"Coming!" I seemed to hear him say. I shook my head and grabbed the pager to call him, but at that moment he'd stormed into the room. "What happened?" he asked, not a bit surprised at being summoned.

I asked him how he knew I'd needed him.

"I sort of heard you," he said slowly as if he tried to explain it to himself, too. "Like when we talk in our wolf shape."

"Can you communicate like that with anybody else?" I asked, stunned.

"No. It's never happened before. You?"

I shook my head. Then it hit me. "Oh my God! It's not the first time. Remember when we flew to Stanford to operate on the little girl whose dog attacked her and smashed her hand? You were on your way home. I saw you in the parking lot. I had the phone in my hands. I said, or I thought something like, 'I need you back', and you turned around and looked at my window."

Ahmed nodded. "I thought it was a coincidence. Is this working one way or both? Let's try."

But when Ahmed tried to send me a mental message, nothing happened. "Doesn't matter," he said. "Even this one-way communication is great."

We also found out that no matter the distance, I could reach him.

Jack was delighted, of course. My safety was his first priority and his constant worry. Getting a free tracking device in the form of his friend and a person with whom I spent lots of time was a gift from heaven.

"I've been thinking about those ankle monitors," he said, "but I knew you'd object." Then he sobered and added, "Promise to use it, Astrid. Please."

"Got it. If you're not around and I need to go grocery shopping, I have to notify Ahmed about my intentions."

"Precisely," he said, dead serious.

SPRING BROUGHT SEVERAL women to my office for prenatal checkups. After trying to get pregnant for years, all three of them had conceived during the month of March.

Werewolf pregnancy was almost the same as a human's. A werewolf fetus was as vulnerable as its human counterpart and required similar prenatal care.

A low birth rate among werewolves was a way nature controlled the size of the races of long-living individuals. Given their tendency to meddle in humans' bloody affairs and the long history of internal conflicts between the clans, werewolves did die, especially at young ages when they were more vulnerable. Eve had told me that so many had died in the two World Wars that even now, decades after, the population was still far below their optimal numbers.

Nature usually balanced out the loss with a sort of werewolf baby boom, but somehow that hadn't happened, at least not here in Red Cliffs. Most young couples had been struggling with medically unrelated infertility and the miscarriage rate was high.

Thanks to their deep fondness for children—and their very flexible sense of privacy—the entire Red Cliffs population celebrated along with the future parents and their families.

TO MY FRUSTRATION, HOWEVER, my fellow citizens attributed these conceivings to my presence among them.

"These pregnancies would've happened no matter what," I said to Peyton during one of our regular lunch breaks together. This time our choice was Green Chili, an East Indian restaurant. "It's just a coincidence. Besides, Tess Randall was pregnant when I came here, and I'm sure she wasn't the only one."

"She _was_ the only one, as far as I know," she said with a sharp edge to her voice, so unusual for her. "Do you really need to fight it so hard? You always seem to find a reason to deny a part of yourself. You fought your wolf, your wizard and now your ellida. Why can't you just accept the fact that, as a force of good, you've had your part in the sudden increase in our fertility rate?"

"Bad things will continue to happen," I said, folding a piece of naan bread into an improvised scoop and dipping it into a curry sauce. "I can't eliminate them. If I'm responsible for this, people will assume I can prevent bad things from happening. I can't."

Peyton smirked. "Oh, come on Astrid, give us more credit. Nobody thinks you're a deity. But you _are_ our spiritual leader and you possess powers and energy we don't. And you are destined to use it for our benefit. It's similar to being a doctor. You help people, in both ways."

"This time I don't fight _against_ , Peyton. I'm fighting _for_. For reason and logic."

Peyton rolled her eyes. "No wonder Jack called you Miss Spock."

"Well, she's still alive and kicking," I said with a chuckle. "Are you joining us tomorrow for a spa party? Maggie's arriving tonight from Austin. We'll have the house to ourselves. Jack and James are out of town and Eamon's going fishing with his friends."

She gave me a fake apologetic look. "Oh, I can't. I'll be out of town."

"Ah."

She wouldn't make it further than Magda Offenbach's farm on the outskirts of town, which Ingmar had moved to a few weeks ago. The Blakes would join them as soon as my grandparents came to Red Cliffs. For everyone else except a few of us, Peyton would be on a "business trip" visiting Millennium Properties' offices around the continent.

"Then I'll see you the day after tomorrow. Jack and Ahmed and are coming to the ranch to meet with Darius."

Chapter Fifty-Six

Astrid

DARIUS AND AHMED WERE ALREADY at the cottage when Jack and I arrived. Ingmar and Peyton were outside on a watch, assuring the secrecy of our gathering.

Darius stood up when Jack and I came in. He greeted Jack then turned to me and bowed his head.

"Ellida, it's my honor," he said. His voice was deep and sensual.

"I'm glad to meet you, Darius. Please, call me Astrid."

The men took seats around the coffee table while I lowered myself into an old recliner that stood slightly aside, by the low bookshelf. That way I could watch Darius undisturbed.

I knew from Jack that Darius was in his early thirties, but he looked a good ten years older.

He was an inch or two taller than Jack, lean and athletic, roguishly handsome. His stunning electric blue eyes were sharp but slightly puffed as if he hadn't had a good sleep in a long time. The deep lines around his mouth, strong jaw, a day's growth of stubble and thick, black hair that didn't seem to have had a recent encounter with a comb, added to his harsh masculinity. They also made him look worn out, unhappy and cynical.

Under that dark, rumpled exterior, however, I sensed a lot of suppressed energy and life force. My suspicion was confirmed when he smiled and I caught a glimpse of the real man behind the bitterness and unhappiness. Boyish and dimpled, it whipped off that extra decade from his face, softening his severe features and taking off that sharp edge in his blue gaze.

"What's new?" Jack asked.

"Seth's delusional and unpredictable as always, but he's not stupid," Darius said, moving his eyes from Jack to Ahmed to me. "He knows he's been cornered; he needs something big, something that will help him to stay in power. He's become paranoid, especially since I came back. He doesn't trust me, he doesn't trust anyone. He's more dangerous than ever."

"Big like what?" Jack asked.

Darius shrugged. "Could be anything. He's talking about rebuilding the town, then the next day about opening the old copper mines. The newest idea is to build a ski resort."

"Where does he think you are now?" Ahmed asked.

Darius snorted. "He put me in charge of finding investors for the resort, so right now I'm talking to potential investors." He turned to Jack. "I'll need some money transferred to our account, in a week or two, just to cover myself. I'll make sure Seth doesn't spend it." He paused then corrected himself. "Well, I'll try."

"No problem, you'll have it by tomorrow," Jack said. "A ski resort isn't a bad idea at all. We'll talk about that later. And don't worry if he spends it. So, you're covered?"

Darius quickly glanced at me then turned to Jack and Ahmed. "Mother made sure of that. Seth's convinced I am exactly where he ordered me to go."

My throat tightened. Mother. He'd put so much tenderness in that single word without knowing it.

I wanted to ask Darius about her, but a dry cotton ball at the back of my throat robbed me of my voice.

Ahmed did it in my stead. As if he'd known.

"Is Rowena all right?" he asked.

Darius glanced at me. "She is fine," he said with a tiny nod. "But she's had enough. All those years of terror, pain, destruction and loneliness." He shook his head and continued bitterly, "I was able to escape it, if only from time to time. She couldn't."

Why?

I hadn't said that, but Darius had read the question from my expression.

"She's the only one who's been keeping Seth's madness under some control. That's why he doesn't know about the resistance. All these years she and a few women around her have been Copper Ridge's only solace and hope."

"She stayed in Copper Ridge because of you," I said quietly, my voice heavy with hurt and pain. And jealousy. I sensed how deep their relationship was and I was jealous. She was my mother and I couldn't have her. "Why didn't you find a way to stay with her? Why did you leave her?"

Darius's fierce gaze lashed over me. "Do you think it was my choice?"

"Astrid, please." Jack's voice delivered an unnecessary warning. I'd already regretted my bitter and unfair comment.

"I'm sorry, Darius. It was out of line."

He gave me a jerky nod and turned to Jack. "Seth brought in more Tel-Urughs. He has eighty so far."

"We have to strike before he brings in more."

"Agreed." Darius rubbed his chin. "We've been expecting troubles, given their number, but they're disciplined. It worries me more than if they were a bunch of rogues."

"And it should," Jack said. "It means they don't have a problem following orders. What about his guard? Any changes there?"

"He always keeps about two hundred of them. They are outsiders and shady characters from all around, loyal to Seth because he pays them well. He's given them the best houses, cars, positions and money. They know if he goes down, there will be no mercy for them."

"And the regular police?" Ahmed asked. "Still on our side?"

"Absolutely. They're from Copper Ridge, the decent folk. The chief of police, Boris Volkov, is my close friend. He'll have his men ready."

"How many do you have?"

"Sixty-two."

I looked at him. "Sixty-two? Against two hundred and eighty, so far?"

"Against almost the entire population of Copper Ridge, from age fifteen up, Ellida," he snapped. "Besides, each of Volkov's men is worth two ordinary fighters."

"Astrid, please," Jack warned me softly before he addressed Darius once more. "We'll have enough people. Red Cliffs will help."

"Well, good to know," I said. "Why did no one bother to tell me about it?"

Jack let out a deep breath. "I would have told you after this meeting, Astrid."

Ahmed looked at Jack, then at me then turned to Darius. "Who else are we going to find there? Any dark wizards?"

Darius shook his head. "Not that I know of."

There was a short silence, and then Jack said, "When do you think you'll be ready?"

"Mid-November?"

"Sounds good."

My breath caught. It seemed to me that the temperature in the room dropped to freezing. My anger and frustration with Jack vanished. It was horrible enough to know there would be war; knowing _when_ it would happen made it much worse.

Sensing my distress, Jack smiled and winked. "It'll be over in no time." Then, to Darius, "Anything else out of the ordinary?"

"Violet Kincaid came to Copper Ridge several times in the last couple of weeks."

Jack's eyebrow rose. "And that concerns you? Why? She has relatives there."

"Well, her visits are more frequent than before. It's probably nothing, but I thought you should know."

Jack rubbed his neck "Suspicion is a terrible thing. I hate it. I hate that I have to doubt people I've known my whole life. But the risk is too great. Keep an eye on her."

My first encounter with Peyton's mother flashed through my mind. Her unreadable eyes, my inability to _feel_ her. The rumors about Violet's grudge against my mother that had never gone away.

Still. Was it enough for Violet to turn against her adopted clan and risk Peyton's future? I doubted it.

"Waste of time and resources," I said.

My comment earned me another stern look from Jack. "We can't afford to trust those we know, let alone someone we really don't know well."

"You know her daughter." It didn't mean anything. And it meant everything.

Darius abruptly stood up, putting an end to our squabbling. "I need to go back," he said. "We'll stay in touch."

"When are we going to meet again?" Jack asked, following Darius's suit.

"Soon. If I'm not able to come, I'll send one of my men." He turned to Jack and fixed his sharp blue gaze on him. "Jack, I don't know how much time I have. You don't want to deal with two madmen. You have to help me while I can still help you."

Jack swallowed. "As soon as you're ready."

"Do I still have your and James's word that you'll take care of it when it happens? If it happens."

What happened? I swiveled my head from Darius to Jack to Ahmed's grim face.

Then it hit me.

I felt like somebody had punched the air out of my lungs. Darius still thought he'd go mad like his father and had made Jack and James promise to kill him before he did any harm!

I sucked in air so sharply that all three of them looked at me.

"Astrid, you okay?" Jack said, but his voice carried another message: _Don't you dare tell him!_

Everything inside me screamed. _How could you not tell him he's sane and healthy? How could you see his suffering, both of you?_

I wanted to tell him what Lily Falconer and I had been able to dig out: his father, Raymond Arenvald, was a marine engineer who had come to America from the Mediterranean island of Malta. Darius had gotten his father's dimpled smile and his jet-black hair—I'd found his father's picture in an article about ship engines in an old magazine for mechanical engineering—and a sane mind from both of his parents.

"You are also your mother's son, Darius," Ahmed said gently. "She was a healthy woman. It's more than possible you didn't inherit Seth's illness."

Darius smirked. "Do you have any guarantees, Doctor?"

"Well..."

"I've had I don't know how many CT scans and MRIs so far, but I'm not sure this kind of madness can leave its digital imprint on a piece of plastic. We are different from humans, so our insanity must be different, too." He paused. "I was thinking, when this is over, maybe one of you could examine me."

The deep, raw desperation in his voice broke my heart. I walked to him, in spite of the lightning bolts Jack's eyes flashed at me. I cupped his head between my palms and forced him to look into my eyes.

"We need to do a DNA test."

"We'll do it when all this is over."

Not good enough. "Listen to me, Darius," I said. "I can't see the future, but sometimes I can feel it. I can _feel_ people." He winced, trying to break eye contact, but I just increased the pressure and kept his head firmly between my hands. "And I feel light and happiness. I feel you laugh, and I feel your smile. I feel the love in and around you. I _do not_ feel Seth in you. Do you understand me?"

I let him look into the depths of my eyes and feel the truth I couldn't tell him. He was lost in my eyes for a long moment.

"So, you think I might have escaped it after all?" He spoke so softly that I had to read the words from his lips.

"I do. And I ask you to trust me."

He nodded, and then, in a rare moment of that special intimacy possible only between two strangers, he whispered, "When you are constantly waiting to go mad, it's a lonely life, you know. I've been afraid to feel, to love. I look at Seth, and I see myself in a few years."

I caught Jack's warning look, but I turned my back to him, ignoring it.

"Oh, Darius, I'm so sorry for your suffering," I whispered through a heavy sob. _Your unnecessary, senseless suffering._

Darius glanced in Jack's direction as if assessing if he could hear us and continued with his unexpected confession. "A few years ago, I fell in love with a girl. I didn't dare tell her. She's never known. Here, now, in the middle of this madness, love wasn't possible for me. I returned to Scotland. There I could have pretended, if only temporarily, I was somebody else, not the son of a madman. I met a girl and we dated. I loved her. She wanted to come here with me. But where to bring her? In this chaos? How to tell her who we are? She is a gentle human girl, who plays the violin, loves visiting art galleries and theaters, and believes werewolves, wizards and vampires live only in myth and folklore."

"What's her name?" I asked.

"Lydia." He smiled sadly. "She made me feel normal."

"It'll be all right," I repeated firmly. "I wish I could give you real proof. I can't. Not now. One day I will. Until then, you must trust me with your heart, Darius."

I felt his pain and his doubt. He wanted to trust me unconditionally, but his rational mind still needed it in black and white.

Yet, the dark, cold fog that had enveloped his soul was less thick.

"You _must_ trust me." I smiled. "I am an ellida."

Darius drew me to his chest and kissed the crown of my head. I heard Jack's short, angry growl. Not because of the hug Darius and I had shared, but because I'd ignored his unspoken orders.

Oblivious to Jack's rapidly darkening mood, Darius said without looking at him, "Jack, Ahmed, would you leave us for a minute?"

Jack threw me an angry _we'll-talk-about-that-later_ look. In return, I turned my head and pressed my cheek to Darius's chest, ignoring Jack completely.

Darius touched my elbow and towed me to the sofa. I sat down and he took a seat beside me. "I have something for you," he said. He reached into his wallet and took out a small photo.

My mother's.

I took the square piece of paper between my fingers but, instead of looking at it, I closed my eyes.

"It's okay. Take your time."

My eyes met with a perfect oval face, arched brows, almond-shaped grey eyes, straight nose, full lips, round feminine chin and a mane of wavy dark hair. It was the stern face of someone who'd experienced and witnessed lots of suffering.

I sobbed heavily, the pain choking me from inside. Darius sat beside me, holding me tight as grief erupted from my core, shaking my body with violent, ragged spasms.

Eons later, I felt his fingers closing around my palm with the little picture in it, his other hand stroking my hair, and then his deep, thick voice finally penetrated my mind. "Keep it. And you must believe you'll see her soon."

"Don't let anything happen to her, please, Darius."

He tilted my chin up and found my eyes. "She's my mother even though she didn't give birth to me. I'll protect her with my life, Astrid."

"Thank you."

"Jack's gonna be mad at you."

"Not more than I'm mad at him. Don't worry. We are bond mates; we can't stay angry at each other for a long time. Which sucks, if you ask me."

"Why are you so angry at him?"

"I have my reasons."

At that moment, the door opened and Ahmed peeked in. "Are you okay, _tatlim_? Darius can't stay much longer, I'm afraid."

"We also need to go, Astrid," Jack interjected. "I'm meeting with the captains later today." His controlled, almost gentle voice didn't fool me. I'd disobeyed his order in front of his ally and he was angry.

Oh well. I'd give him a reason to be even angrier. Perhaps it would divert his attention from my disobedience.

I locked my arms around Darius's neck and gave him a juicy smack on his lips. "You know, under different circumstances, I wouldn't mind getting to know you better." I smiled sweetly and turned my head to glance at Jack.

Darius winked. "Well, technically, you're still single."

With utmost delight, I saw Jack's face turn fire-engine red.

"Take care, Darius," I said softly. "I hope to see you soon." I took his hand between mine and whispered fiercely, "Keep in mind what I told you, please. Promise?"

"I promise. You know what, Astrid? You don't resemble your mother, not physically, but you two share the same compassion. That's Rowena in you."

I smiled, watching him climb into Ingmar's pick-up. He smiled and waved.

Then I turned to Jack, ready to meet his wrath.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Jack

AT FIRST I'D THOUGHT I would blow a gasket seeing Astrid hugging and kissing a man she'd just met an hour ago, but then I'd seen through her little plan: she would play on my jealousy and possessiveness hoping to get away with more serious stuff, like ignoring my warnings and orders.

I knew she expected an angry rant as soon as she saw the rear spoiler of Ingmar's truck, but I kept quiet. I didn't want to pick a fight in front of Ahmed, so we drove back in tense silence.

"We need to talk, Astrid," I said when we came home, forcing myself to notch down my anger. She stood across from me, hands braced on her hips, dangerously quiet. Her dominant posture told me she'd realized it wasn't going to be about her unconvincing display of impromptu emotion for Darius Withali. She was getting ready for a fight.

"Let's talk, then," she said through clenched teeth.

"Why did you tell him?"

She didn't defend her action. She attacked instead. "How could you _not_ tell him? How can you let him believe he could go mad like Seth? It's cruel! Unspeakably cruel, do you hear me, Jack?"

My resolve to stay composed went down the drain. "I'm not doing it because I like it," I shouted. "Right now, this is keeping him alive. If he knew the truth, he might try to kill Seth with his bare hands right away. Have you thought about that?"

"I didn't tell him Seth wasn't his father, damn it! I told him he is not mad like Seth!"

" _After_ I clearly warned you not to tell him. That's another problem. You ignored my order in a situation where we need to act as one."

Werewolf hierarchy had never been Astrid's favorite topic. She frowned, eyebrows almost touching in the middle, her green eyes darkened and her lips pursed into a sneer.

"I don't need to follow anyone's orders, as you know."

"I'm not trying to manhandle you, Astrid," I said. "But I'm the einhamir of the Red Cliffs clan, and this includes you, too. I had a meeting with Darius, not you. If you had met him as the ellida, I wouldn't have interfered."

"If you ever disagreed with me, I'd expect you to interfere."

"No. You wouldn't like that. No leader does. Listen, you can always tell me your opinion in private, and I promise I'll consider it, but you must not disobey me publicly. That can set a bad precedent. Do you understand that?"

She let out a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. "Then we have a problem. I am the ellida of the same clan. I outrank you."

"This is not the way to exercise your authority. Okay, let's forget for a moment you ignored my orders. I'm not happy keeping Darius in the dark, either. I might even agree with you. Ellida Morgaine thinks—"

Bracing her arms against the table, she leaned in. "The last time I checked, I was Red Cliffs' ellida, not Morgaine!"

This was an Astrid I hadn't seen before.

"Besides," she continued, "I repeat, I didn't tell him Seth wasn't his father, only that he was not going to go mad!"

"Darius is an intelligent man, he may connect the dots."

Her hand slammed down on the table with great force. "Damn it, Jack, I didn't ask for this power! I didn't want this authority! But I've got it, and God help me, I'm going to use it when I decide it's necessary! Do I need to remind you that I am your war chieftain? Don't you think I should, maybe, take a more active role in your little war games against Seth? I learn about your plans by picking up bits and pieces of your conversations with others."

This definitely wasn't an Astrid I had seen before. I liked her new confidence and self-awareness and the way she stood up for herself and defended her decision. I even liked her anger, her willingness to fight her own battles, but she needed a reality check before she went overboard.

"Your role as ellida is enormous, but some parts of it are ceremonial. If you're imagining leading the troops on Copper Ridge riding on a white horse, well, it's not going to happen." I paused. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be a sight, though."

She smirked, not amused at all.

I tried a different approach. "Oh boy, how do I explain this? As an ellida, yes, you are above the pack hierarchy. As an alpha female, you're not. We both rule and our responsibilities do overlap sometimes. But today, it was my call, not yours."

"I have the power of veto!"

"That you do. You have the power to change my decision, but not like this. Besides, I'm not sure you did Darius a favor. He might try to kill Seth before we are ready and before he's ready. That's the problem."

"You are using Darius for your own purposes."

"Our goals are similar. Plus, we have you to protect. We need him and he needs us."

"I gave him hope, and now he'll have more reason to live. He won't be reckless with his life. Have Morgaine, or you, for that matter, thought about that? Have you considered that he'd rather die fighting against Seth than live, because he believed there was nothing worth living for? For Chrissake, Jack, the man made you promise to take his life before... before..."

Her voice broke off, and she suddenly looked tired and sad.

My anger fizzled off. What right did I have to be mad at her? She felt Darius's unhappiness and despair and responded to it in her own way, the only way she knew—by healing his wounds.

All I wanted was to take her in my arms and hold her.

When she looked at me, her eyes were shiny with tears. "I love you, Jack, and I couldn't imagine my life without you, but sometimes I feel this is too much for me. I wish I could go back to Rosenthal and to my house and keep pretending my life is normal."

Her words slammed into me like a freight train.

"I have to go now," she announced after a long, stony silence.

"Where?" The word had come out loud and harsh as if she'd indeed decided to go back to Rosenthal right this moment.

"I'm working tonight, did you forget?"

"Can't you ask someone to cover your shift? Let's stay here tonight."

She shook her head and tried to pass by me. I caught her hand and pulled her against me. She was warm, soft, and she smelled good. "Don't go, baby. I need you."

She kissed me softly and freed herself from my grip. "Will you give me a ride? I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

WHEN I PICKED HER UP from the clinic the next morning, she was still distant, lost in her own thoughts. I liked it much better when she was angry. I decided to attack her blue mood with exactly the same weapon she'd attempted to use on me the previous day—by provoking a fake jealousy outburst.

We finished breakfast and stood in the kitchen, looking at each other warily.

"I hate to bring it up, baby," I said. "I know you had enough yesterday, but, you see, I think you were a little bit too cozy with Darius. If you know what I mean. You're my bond mate. I know how you feel about him, but you really can't behave like that, being alpha female and all."

Astrid's usual self would've seen through my charade, but she wasn't her usual self. The good news was that her face instantly reddened and arrows shot from her eyes.

"If you're about to throw a jealous fit, think twice. I'm not in the mood."

I ignored her. "You hugged him," I started counting on my fingers. "You let him kiss you—"

She threw her arms into the air. "On. My. _Hair_!"

"It was still kissing. When I came back to the room after he asked me to leave you two alone there, what did I see? You two cuddling on the sofa, and then you kissed him in front of everybody. How do you think I felt?"

She tilted her head and zeroed in her green eyes on me. "And don't forget I told him I wouldn't mind knowing him better." She threw her head back and laughed. It sounded like the most beautiful music.

I pulled her into my arms. "Welcome home, baby."

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Astrid

THE GENTLE, WARM SPRING PASSED into a brilliant summer.

Jack, my uncle and Ahmed continued to train Red Cliffs fighters. Adam Mackenzie, Jack's childhood friend and his partner from their special mission days, had come to help train Jack's little army. Grandpa and Grandma had arrived at Red Cliffs.

This was what Jack wanted Seth Withali to know.

Behind the curtains, Livia and Tristan had joined Ingmar on Magda's ranch. Livia's Tel-Urughs were ready to show up in Red Cliffs on short notice.

And we had gotten another unexpected ally. Winston would send us a hundred of its best warriors.

MAGGIE RETURNED HOME IN mid-June, after two weeks in Europe—a graduation present from her oldest brother. The same month, Eamon graduated from high school and decided to take a year off before going to Italy to study ethnomusicology. I wished I could send them both away, somewhere safe, far from here. But the truth was, they might not be safer.

Only days after my grandparents had come, Red Cliffs welcomed two visitors from Gelltydd Coch: Jack's grandparents Robert and Anwen Canagan.

It had been an emotional reconciliation between James and Eve, and Robert and Anwen. Jack's grandparents had accepted James and Eve's offer to stay at their home. Once close friends, they had grown apart after Brian's death and Jack's refusal to become the einhamir two and a half decades ago. Now it was time, they all knew, to heal the old wounds.

I liked them both. They were warm and caring, and they adored Jack. Robert was a good-looking, tall man with a powerful frame, dark hair and dark brown eyes. His wife was slender and elegant, with a beautiful oval face and long, light brown hair styled into a French braid. She had exquisite blue-green eyes with dark rims around the irises.

In spite of their modern and youthful look, there was an aura of an olden-day glory that surrounded them. Even their old-fashioned titles that nobody used anymore— _Robert, the Lord Einhamir of the Northern Lands,_ and _Lady Anwen—_ fit them perfectly.

THE MEN WERE SO ABSORBED in military preparation that nobody except me noticed that Eve and Maggie had organized their own training schedule, disappearing into the woods every afternoon for several hours. Soon Peyton joined them.

I hadn't been invited.

"The whole purpose of taking Seth down is to protect you," Eve explained when I asked her what was going on. "You stay out of it."

"So, all of you are going to war, and I'm supposed to stay here and make sure dinner's ready when you come back? I think not. Why don't you stay here with me?"

Eve squeezed her eyes and shook her head. "I can't sit here and wait. If James goes, so do I."

"But _I'll_ be sitting here and waiting," I reminded her.

"That's different."

I didn't understand why it was different but realized it would be pointless to argue with Eve at the moment.

"What about you two?" I turned to Maggie and Peyton. "What are your reasons?"

Maggie giggled. "I've never been to Copper Ridge. Maybe my true love is there."

I crossed my arms. "Shouldn't you be looking for a job?"

"I completed my four-year degree in three years, _summa cum laude_. I deserve a break."

"I'm going because Ingmar will be there," Peyton said. "Don't try to change my mind."

"No offense, but I'm more capable of fighting than any of you, and I have to stay here. Why do you think Jack would let you go? He doesn't know about this, does he?"

"Of course not!" all three said in unison.

_Oh, but he will_. "How did you plan to do that, Eve? You know Jack won't allow it."

"This isn't my first war, Astrid," Eve snapped. "And I repeat, I _will not_ sit here and wait to see if my husband will return or not. Do you understand? Never again!" She exhaled deeply and added in a raspy voice. "I've survived once the loss of a man I loved more than life. I don't think I would be able to pull through it one more time. If I'm with James, he'll be safe."

It didn't make much sense, but I understood. I wrapped my arms around Eve's shoulders. "I'm sorry for doing that to all of you. I really am."

Eve smirked. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not your doing. It started long ago, and now it's time to end it."

It was pointless to argue with any of them at that moment. I'd leave Jack to deal with the three crazy women later.

WHEN I TOLD JACK ABOUT Eve, Maggie and Peyton's plan, Jack went berserk and ordered them, when the time came, to stay with me.

Maggie phoned me right away to "thank" me. "Traitor!" she said, angry. "I thought we were still the Sisterhood of the Full Moon, but it means nothing to you. Why did you tell him, for Chrissake?"

"Nice way to talk to the clan's ellida, Maggie Mohegan. You really thought you'd be able to sneak out without Jack or James's knowledge?"

"Yes. Well, probably. We have our own methods. What about Eamon? Is he going?"

"Nobody under the age of twenty-one will go. No women other than the three captains, Morgaine, Liv, Ella and Jack's grandmother. I'm sorry."

"Jack can order his mother to stay, but not his grandmother?"

"Seth killed her son—"

"Who was mom's husband at that time," she said. "You know, you pissed off your future mother-in-law big time."

"I'm sorry. I hope she'll forgive me. All of you. Listen, why don't you come over? I'm about to make a pot of tea. There are very few things a cup of tea can't make better."

"Is Jack home? I'm not sure I want to see him now."

"No, he's not. I also have Napoleon slices in the fridge."

"I'm surprised my brother had time to cook being busy training his men and bullying three women. Oh, well. On the other hand, he does make the best Napoleon slices in the world. See you in fifteen."

I smiled. "I'm glad you're so bribable," I said, forgetting to mention I'd made the cake. With questionable success.

BY OUR UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT, I stayed away from the war plans and preparations, leaving it to Jack and his men (and women, since all three female captains had been involved from the beginning.)

I didn't give up completely; no. Every once in a while, I'd bring it up, but Jack wouldn't budge.

All I knew was that Jack and Darius would strike together, somewhere in November, one from the inside, the other one from outside. The exact date was still to be determined. Even then, very few people would know it more than a day in advance.

I wouldn't. To protect me, Jack wouldn't tell me till the very end.

One morning he would kiss me and be gone. And I would be left here in the empty house, waiting for him to return. Or...

My mind would stop there, numb with fear, and my blood would turn to ice.

The inner harmony that kept not only me but my entire surroundings balanced was disturbed. Those I loved and cared about may die. I worried about the innocent people of Copper Ridge, as well, suffering for such a long time.

How many lives would he try to destroy in his final acts of madness?

Jack knew what was going on in my head. He tried to spend as much time at home as he could. He talked to me when I needed reassurance, made me laugh when I was too tense and made love to me when nothing else worked.

"It will be over in no time," he told me one night as we lay in bed after long and tender lovemaking. "I promise. Do I ever break my word?"

No, he hadn't, but we both knew no one could make such a promise.

"What if somebody dies?" I said. I was a protector of life. As a doctor, as well as an ellida. Losing lives terrified me. "You can't control that."

"No, but I can do everything to prevent it. You must trust me."

I braced myself on my elbow. "I do. I want you to trust me, too and let me go with you. I can—"

He didn't let me finish. "Out of the question," he said in a dark, quiet voice. "Don't even think about it."

If he'd shouted and grabbed my shoulders to shake me, he wouldn't have sounded more resolute.

"I'm one of the most powerful people around, you know that."

Once able to use my wizard powers, I developed them to their full potential. Even my skills with metal were excellent. I'd learned how to manipulate the magnetic field around me. Drawing a metal object to my hand and moving it in space had become easy.

I was a big and strong werewolf, capable of changing my shape back and forth in a matter of seconds. Months of hard training with my teacher, Takeshi had paid off—I was a confident archer and good with a sword.

Jack cupped my head between his palms. "I can't risk anything happening to you, Astrid," he said so slow, so quiet. "I'm not that strong."

"Oh, Jack," I whispered as a sob ripped from my throat.

"Shhh, don't cry." With his thumbs, Jack brushed my tears away. "If you really want to help me, promise to stay here. And don't get pregnant in the next few months."

I sniffed and managed a tiny smile. "Well, I haven't heard anything about a shortage of condoms, so we'll be fine."

Jack laughed and kissed me. "Now, throw a few things into your suitcase. We're going to Las Vegas tomorrow morning."

"Vegas?"

"No better time than now."

"But is it safe?" Red Cliffs had recently turned into a military camp, the borders were about to be sealed, I couldn't go grocery shopping without letting Jack know, and now we'd go to Vegas just like that?

"Human settlements are the safest places for you to be. Even if the crazy loon somehow learns where we are, he's still smart enough not to risk an open attack. Besides, Liv and Tristan are coming with us. And a few other people."

"Hardly an intimate getaway."

"James wouldn't hear of it otherwise. Except for the Blakes, you won't see the rest of them. I promise."

I clasped my hands. "Tristan and Liv! Oh, I'm so looking forward to seeing them." They had been on Magda's ranch for several weeks but I hadn't gone there, for security reasons. To tell the truth, it was a while since I'd gone anywhere. My movements were restricted—home, work, back home. "How are we getting there? Are we flying with Uncle's plane?"

"Yes. The Blakes and us. Adam Mackenzie, your teacher, and Ahmed will already be there. They will be flying tonight." He gave me a crooked smile. "If you want to go, that is."

"Hmm. Let me think," I said, tapping my chin with my index finger, then bursting into laughter. "Omigod! A weekend in Vegas with the hottest man alive!"

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Astrid

JACK HAD BOOKED A SUITE at the Alhambra Hotel. Livia and Tristan stayed in the room next to ours. We'd checked in with false passports as Mr. and Mrs. Berenger from Montreal, Canada. Tristan and Livia had registered as Mr. and Mrs. Whyte, residents of Great Falls, Montana. We hadn't seen Takeshi, Adam and Ahmed, but they were close.

Tristan pulled me into his arms as soon as we stepped into our room. "I've missed you, Astrid."

"It annoys me to no end that we live so close but can't see each other," Liv said when Tristan released me. She kissed my cheek then took a step back to examine me. "Let me see you. You look great."

"Mountain air, I guess," I said with a smile. "Oh, Liv, I missed you."

Jack cleared his throat. "Er, don't count on seeing much of Liv and Tristan, honey. This is _our_ romantic weekend."

Liv frowned. "Oh, don't count on seeing too much at all. Your Vegas experience is going to be limited mostly to this room. That's what Jack's trying to say. Let us know if he forgets to feed you."

Despite Liv's prediction, we spent a good part of our first day with the Blakes. For people with our abilities, going to a casino was out of the question.

Ignoring Jack's grumbling, Liv and I decided first to catch up on all the news while relaxing in the spa. Later, we explored the hotel's shops and boutiques, leaving the men to themselves at the bar.

AFTER AN EARLY DINNER, WE watched a _Cirque du Soleil_ show together, two hours of my favorite human magic.

It was almost midnight when Jack and I were finally alone. We took a shower together. Jack wrapped me in a big towel, scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom.

His lovemaking was tender, his kisses and caresses so sweet that they made my heart ache. When he took me, he moved inside me in long, slow strokes, his hard, thick flesh filling me completely.

"I love the way you give yourself to me, Astrid."

Jack's hot whisper brushed over my neck, sending tremors down my spine. For a long moment, I shuddered on the brink. "Come for me, baby. I have you."

The knot swelled even more and the next moment Jack's semen flooded my womb.

Lost in a feverish, shattering response, it took me a while to realize it shouldn't have been happening.

Jack cursed. His fingers pressed hard at the sensitive spot between my legs. The knot released, and he pulled out.

"The damn thing broke!" He jerked out of bed, grabbed my wrist, not rough but with considerable force, and pulled me up. "Go and wash. Now!"

I stumbled behind him, shocked more by his response than by the condom accident.

He pushed me inside the shower stall, came after me and turned on the faucet. Cold, prickly water sprayed over us.

"Stop! Stop!" I screamed, hurt, humiliated and cold, trying to get out of the shower. My hand found the handle and turned it off. I opened the latch of the stall door.

"Get out, Jack." In an instinctive movement, my hands covered my breasts and pubis. I closed my eyes, shivering.

"I'm sorry." He reached for me, but I took a step back.

"Out!"

He stepped out, grabbed a towel from the rack and left.

I adjusted the water temperature and stepped under the warm spray and cleaned myself, aware that it wouldn't make any difference if my body was ready to conceive tonight. Jack's seed was planted deep inside my womb where nothing could reach it, heading blindly toward its target. According to the timing of my last period, it just might hit it.

Wrapped in a white robe with the hotel logo on it, I opened the bathroom door. Jack sat on the bed, already dressed.

I stood at the doorway, arms crossed over my chest.

In two strides he was beside me. "I'm so sorry, Astrid," he said, closing his arms around me.

"You should be. You yelled at me as if it was my fault."

He rested his chin on the top of my head. "I was scared. And when I'm scared, I yell. Damned condom. Why do we use it as protection in the first place? There are other methods."

His touch soothed my anger, but it didn't help with my frustration. "Sometimes condoms break or leak or slip," I said with exaggerated patience. "But they're a reliable and safe method of contraception and the best prevention against sexually transmitted infections. I'm a doctor; I know their benefits."

Instead of calming him down, my explanation riled him up even more. "We cannot get a damn sexually transmitted infection! We're werewolves; we can neither get infected nor pass on any infection, including venereal. You know it!"

I wiggled out of his embrace. "Not all my patients are mighty werewolves. I was talking in general terms, but you're upset and you're talking nonsense, Jack."

He closed his eyes and let out a sharp breath. "I have nothing against condoms, generally speaking; you know that. But what if you get pregnant?"

"I may not."

He threw me a meaningful look. "Isn't it the right time of the month?"

"And you know this _how_? You keep a record of my monthly periods?" Now my anger was coming back with a vengeance.

He threw his arms into the air. "I remember when you had your last period. We live together, remember? It was less than two weeks ago. You'll be so vulnerable when you're pregnant. The timing's so wrong."

I pressed my forehead against his. "It often takes time to conceive, Jack. It's not that easy."

He kissed my lips and held me tight. "Don't underestimate Canagan's little swimmers, baby. If there's a slight chance for it, one of them will wiggle its way to its destination."

I locked my arms around his neck and smiled. "Think about this, then. If you got me pregnant tonight, I'm sure it would be a girl. Your lovemaking was so gentle and beautiful. I was over the moon."

Jack smiled, his honey gold eyes shining with indefinite tenderness. "I would love to have a daughter first." He tucked his finger under my chin. "In spite of everything, I'd be the happiest man alive, you know that, don't you?"

"I know. Jack, don't worry in advance. Even I would need a week or so to be sure."

"I'd bet on my boots you've gotten pregnant tonight."

I sighed. "Okay, then. Fine. If you're so sure, I have an idea. How about testing the rest of the box? Statistically, it's impossible that another condom would break, but if it does, we can sue the manufacturer for child support."

He frowned. "Statistics? They can be made to prove almost anything. How about let's not? Enough stress for one evening. Now let's watch TV."

"HOW LONG BEFORE THE WHOLE town figures out you're pregnant?" Jack asked me some time later. I was tucked beside him in the bed, enjoying a wild animal documentary, which couldn't be said for Jack. He was as tense as a wire.

I rolled my eyes. "I may not get pregnant, Jack."

"Let's say you are."

I sighed. I didn't have the energy to argue with him. "I don't know. I'm a half-wizard, so it might take longer to identify my condition through scent. Not very long anyway. And there are some other changes, too. Hair, skin, eyes. Some women look quite miserable at the beginning, some others get that glow."

"I bet you'll glow. So, a few weeks, huh?"

"If we are optimistic."

One glance at Jack's face told me he'd already been adjusting his plans.

The next morning, to my utter embarrassment, Jack told Tristan and Livia about the newest development, presenting my potential pregnancy as a matter of fact.

I sighed and repeated for the umpteenth time. "I might not be pregnant!"

"But then you might be," Jack said.

Tristan rubbed his chin. "That complicates the whole situation, doesn't it? What are we going to do now?"

Seeing my discomfort, Livia sat beside me on the sofa and rubbed my arm. "You okay, Astrid?"

I sighed. "I don't think I'm pregnant, but explain that to Jack."

"But you might be," Jack said.

"Take it easy, Jack," Livia said in a calm voice. "The timing might be wrong, but it's not the end of the world even if she is."

"It'll speed things up a bit," Jack said addressing Tristan. "I have a plan. Astrid must stay away from Red Cliffs until we're done with Seth. I'm going to talk to Darius." He turned to Livia, avoiding meeting my eyes. "Liv, you'll take Astrid to Gelltydd Coch. Bring some of your Tel-Urugh friends with you and keep her there."

Okay. That was it.

I stood up. "Tristan, Liv, I need to talk to Jack in private."

They exchanged a look and went to their room.

I walked to Jack, took his hand between mine. "Now listen to me carefully, Jack Canagan, because I'm not going to repeat it. Pregnant or not, I am not going anywhere, with Liv or without her. You'd better stick to your initial plan and make sure when you go to Copper Ridge, you win the battle. I'm telling you this as your mate. Don't make me assume my official role to tell you the same."

I was dead serious, and Jack recognized it. There would be no negotiations this time.

"You're aware of the possible complications?"

" _Assuming_ that I'm pregnant, yes. I can't leave my clan, Jack," I added softly. "I'm their ellida. And I can't leave you." I paused, then used the same words he'd said to me only a few days ago. "I am not that strong."

He looked at me for the longest moment, a thousand emotions written in his eyes: love, fear, courage and determination. And then his muscles relaxed and the serious expression on his face gave way to a warm, sunny smile. My heart made a happy somersault.

"Do you want to elope? We're in Vegas!"

I closed my arms around his neck and kissed him. "I would love to, but we're an alpha pair; we're expected to have a big wedding at home. James would throttle us both if we pulled a stunt like this."

"My question is—what do _you_ want?"

"I want to marry you. I also want our family and friends to share that day with us."

Later that day, thanks to some convincing logic and a bit of compromising, we happily resumed our romantic holiday in Las Vegas.

ONE MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER, a wave of nausea woke me up. I bolted up from the bed and sprinted to the bathroom to empty my stomach.

I opened a drawer and dug out a pregnancy test kit I'd bought a few days ago and hidden in my cosmetic bag. My heart pounded like war drums as I used it, following the instructions.

The two clear pink lines that appeared on the oval display seconds later only confirmed what I already knew.

Jack and I would have a baby.

I closed my eyes and saw the swirls of pink, gold and orange.

A girl.

The next moment the dancing colors disappeared from my mind, and I felt as if something switched off inside me. Some of the energy that fueled my powers was going into sleep mode. No more turning, no more translocation, no more telepathic messaging to Ahmed. My five senses were taken a notch or two down.

Good, I thought, dazzled, and placed my hand over my abdomen, where a tiny dot pulsated with life.

Better not to have it than to remind myself all the time not to use it.

Chapter Sixty

Jack

I HELD ASTRID IN MY arms, my hand over her small bump. We'd just made love, long and sweet and gentle. Astrid's breathing was slowing down, becoming deep and even. How I hated that I couldn't let her drift to easy, happy sleep.

I kissed her hair, her neck, her shoulder.

_Tell her_.

I kissed her neck and shoulder, her back. She sighed and pressed her bum against my loin. My flesh, hard once more, twitched.

I nibbled on her earlobe, kissed her neck and shoulder, I was ready to take her again, and again, just to avoid telling her what she feared to hear the most. The date of the attack.

Two days ago, we'd gotten a message from Darius—Seth planned to do something big on Halloween night.

Darius had also warned us it could be a trap.

How could we be sure? Had someone unintentionally spilled something that was supposed to be the best-kept of secrets? Had Seth wanted to plant the false information, counting on the fact that we wouldn't believe it, and then strike?

No one could say. Darius had confirmed the increased military activities in Seth's camp. Seth had been training his squadron and spending hours and hours with some of the Tel-Urughs he'd hired and kept in his private quarters.

Decoy or not, I wouldn't risk waiting until Halloween to see if I was right or wrong. My enemy was capable of anything, and I kept that in mind all the time. Crazy as he was, he was also a freaky clown, like those super villains from Batman movies. A highly intelligent screwball with a cruel sense of humor. His methods were ingrained in his current mental state. It wouldn't be out of his character to come up with some kind of mayhem on Halloween night, taking advantage of the festive atmosphere in Red Cliffs.

The news from Copper Ridge had often been contradictory—it was one of Seth's little mind games. We believed Rowena had some power over Seth, but sometimes I wondered if it wasn't just another thing Seth wanted us to believe.

Tell her. She has the right to know.

I held my hand splayed over her abdomen, stroking it gently. "Astrid?" I murmured into her hair.

"Mmm."

"I think she moved."

From the very beginning, Astrid had been convinced we were having a daughter, explaining it with her strange ability to see things through colors and feelings. Apparently, the happy swirls of pink, soft blue, orange and sunny yellow meant a baby girl. I'd accepted it as a fact even before the confirmed it.

"She's too small for that," Astrid said. "How can you feel her but I can't? It's impossible."

"Well, I do. It's like gentle bubbling under my fingers. She recognizes my voice."

She sighed. "I believe that you believe you can feel her."

Tell her.

I braced myself on my elbow and kissed Astrid's stomach.

"I love you, my little cub," I whispered.

Astrid chuckled.

"You know, Astrid," I added, planting another kiss on her abdomen, "my daughter and I have a special relationship. She likes music, she always kicks more when we play it. Or when I sing to her. And you know what? She loves good ol' rock, like her daddy."

Astrid stroked her abdomen and snugged closed to me. "I'll teach her to like opera."

"Listen, I've been thinking. We haven't talked about it yet, but I suspect you'll like to continue working after she turns one. I have a plan: I'll be a stay-at-home dad. An einhamir position isn't exactly an eight-to-four job. The two of us can travel short distances, attend unofficial meetings and receive people here, in the house. Mom, Dad and the rest of the family will pitch in when necessary. I only have to learn a few girly things, like how to do braids, polish her fingernails, play with dolls. Things like that, you know. It shouldn't be too difficult."

Astrid turned and took my head between her palms. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"We'll go on October twenty-seventh," I said, with mixed feelings of relief and dread. She had the right to know, yet I hated telling her.

She froze. "In nine days," she whispered and closed her eyes. "Oh, God."

"I'll be fine," I said with a lightness I didn't feel. "We'll strike in the dawn. Expect us to be home for lunch."

Astrid pulled herself upward and sat on her knees and looked into my eyes. "I know you have to go. You're a warrior; I know you have to fight. So, fight. Defeat Seth, once and for all, and come back to me and our child."

I pulled her against my chest and rested my forehead against hers. "I will. I promise."

"I trust you. I don't have any other choice."

LONG AFTER ASTRID FELL ASLEEP, I lay awake.

It was supposed to be the happiest time of my life. In many ways it was. I'd found my bond mate. She was the love of my life, my partner, my friend and my lover. And she was pregnant with my child. I felt as if I'd conquered the world.

But the shadow that loomed over us was big enough to take our happiness from us. There was no way to ignore it. He was evil, a dark force that had to be destroyed. If we didn't do it, it'd destroy us.

I had so much to fight for—Astrid, our baby, our family, friends, our clan.

I had to avenge my father and Astrid's.

I didn't know much about the place where they were now. Brian and Hal, two best friends. Were they in Goedwig Arian, the Silver Forest, our "other side", the place for fallen warriors and heroes? Did such a place exist? I could only hope it did, and that they could see us, and guide us, from there.

Did my father expect me to avenge his death? Did Hal? Even if they didn't, it was my duty. Or, had we disappointed them not going after Seth for such a long time?

Sometimes, I thought my father wouldn't find peace before he was avenged. More often, I thought he wouldn't care, even though he would've torn Seth apart, limb by limb if he'd harmed anyone from our family. He'd always thought about others before himself. My father had been a man of action, not words, he'd expect me to remove the threat without too much thinking. Seth was a menace, a danger for our family and our people, therefore he had to be eliminated.

I missed him. The tearing pain of his death had turned into a dull ache, but the intensity of the loss hadn't changed.

It was one of the hardest parts of having a life so long that it bordered on immortality—you forever carry inside you every pain, every regret, every disappointment, every loss.

I was as terrified as Astrid was. Not of dying or being wounded. No. This wouldn't be my first war. I was afraid of unpredictable twists, of preventable errors. I wasn't afraid of Seth's Tel-Urughs and mercenaries, but of his dirty tricks: he was a blackmailer, manipulator, liar.

Did we overlook something? Probably. It was impossible to anticipate every crazy idea Seth could come up with.

Should I have forced Astrid to leave Red Cliffs?

The Gelltydd Coch clan would've kept her safe until we had taken Seth down. Her decision to stay here complicated things. Her presence was a lure Seth was madly and blindly attracted to.

But I understood her. It was her home. Her clan. And I knew that, in a way, I would've been lost without her. Exposed, vulnerable. A part of me would be gone with her. She was my sun and moon and my stars. She was the bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh, as I was hers.

I braced myself on my elbow, hovering over the sleeping woman that I loved with all my heart, my every thought, my every breath. Her hand lay across the soft swell of her stomach, where our little daughter was sleeping, safe, warm and protected.

Astrid looked more beautiful than ever. Pregnancy had curved her hips, her breasts were big and swollen, getting ready for nursing, her rosy nipples became darker and larger, her firm, round bum got heavier. I smiled: now I needed both my hands to squeeze it. Her face shone with the beatific glow reserved for pregnant women.

She looked like Mother Earth herself.

I wouldn't let Seth take this from me. He killed my father and the man who'd never be my father-in-law. He made my mother's and Rowena's lives hell, but God help me, I'd stop him before he harmed the woman I loved more than life itself and my child she carried inside her womb.

I kissed her and placed my hand over her round swell where my baby slept, my mind going over and over again through every single detail of the attack I could anticipate.

There was no room for mistakes, yet they could happen.

On the other hand, Seth was in a similar situation. He couldn't predict all our moves. In his ignorance, Seth didn't consider that the ordinary people of Copper Ridge were waiting for the first opportunity to end his reign of madness. That was good.

I wasn't sure what their role would be, since they were civilians, untrained for combat, and I was worried about possible casualties. Morgaine, Ingmar and Astrid's grandparents believed they'd be able to raise a protective shield over our people, but we didn't know if Seth had any wizards on his side who'd be able to take it down.

Seth didn't trust Darius. But did he consider him his enemy? We assumed he did. Better safe than sorry. Fortunately, Seth still didn't know about Ingmar, Tristan and Livia, nor about the squad of Tel-Urughs.

Seth didn't know about the Winstonians either. He had more soldiers than we did, but I wasn't concerned about it. We had a great motivation to end this madness. Seth's army was a bunch of mercenaries who fought for money, not for their convictions. And he didn't have much money left to keep them happy.

It'd be over soon, I said to myself, my mind and soul desperate for different kinds of thoughts. Better. Lighter. Filled with life and love. I kissed Astrid's hair and stretched. Locking my hands behind my head, I closed my eyes and let them in.

I thought of the simple, ordinary pleasures we'd enjoy once free of the constant threat from Seth.

We'd have a big Halloween party.

I imagined Astrid and my mother baking spooky cookies and cakes. Astrid in a costume? What would she be? A princess? It would suit her. She was our royalty, sort of. Or perhaps a witch. I could be a pirate. Or Jean Luc Picard from Star Trek, my favorite US Enterprise captain.

And then, our first Christmas together.

I wanted to think not about military training anymore, but how to secure funds for the ultra-modern orthopedic wing Gerhard Falkenstein had been dreaming about, and a 3-D sonogram Astrid had asked about, a new school playground, a fresh coat of asphalt for our roads, a new resort with pools and spas that would bring tourists all year round.

I wanted to do my civil job, which, in times of peace, would pretty much fit the job description of a small town mayor.

I wanted to hear Astrid singing the Queen of the Night aria, from her favorite opera, _The Magic Flute_.

I pictured Astrid in a wedding gown in our old church and myself beside her, holding my daughter in my arms, a big town square celebration after the ceremony and our honeymoon.

Well, if love and light could conquer darkness, Seth was doomed.

I closed my eyes and drifted into a shallow sleep with Astrid's smiling face behind my eyelids.

Chapter Sixty-One

Astrid

I WAS IN MY OFFICE, reading an article on the benefits of rapid intravenous platelet inhibition during percutaneous coronary intervention when I heard a soft knock on the door. Ahmed and I were both on duty—our EMS protocol requires one doctor on the ambulance crew and another one in the clinic, but fortunately, the night wasn't busy for any of us.

"Come in, please."

Henry Radford's smiling face peeked in. "Would you mind if I join you, Dr. Mohegan. I can't get back to sleep."

Henry's sleeping pattern was temporarily disturbed after his appendectomy two days before. The previous night, during my last round, I'd found him awake and rested. He'd talked me into going back to my office with him for a game of chess. It'd been a slow night and I'd enjoyed his company but neglected to tell him it wasn't an open invitation.

I sighed. Too late to clarify it now. Besides, _the rapid intravenous platelet inhibition_ had proved to be useless in keeping my mind away from the "D-Day" less than forty-eight hours away. "You may stay for a while, Henry. Have a seat. Tell me how you are feeling."

"I'm fine. I'm not sleepy, that's all. Besides, Nathan laughs in his sleep."

Nathan was a seven-year-old human boy, an orthopedic patient from the east coast with hip impingement. Ahmed and I had operated on him, and his recovery was splendid.

I touched his forehead, although I had checked him a few hours ago. His temperature was normal. "Okay, how about another game of chess?"

"Great!" He clapped his hands and hopped to the armchair at the small coffee table in the corner of my office. The chess set was still there from yesterday.

"This time I play with the white figures," he said and opened the box.

"And this time I win," I said and sat across from him.

"YOU'RE GOING HOME TOMORROW, HENRY," I said sometime later and moved my bishop. "You'll need to come in a few days so that we can remove the stitches."

"Uncle Mike promised to come with my mom to pick me up," Henry said. "With the cruiser!"

"Well, having a sheriff for an uncle does have its benefits," I said.

"And he'll turn the lights on, but not the sound. Checkmate, Dr. Mohegan."

Darn, the kid was good. "Marvelous, Henry. Congratulations. Now I really think you should go back to your room and try to sleep. It's almost three o'clock. And note I said 'go', which means 'walk'. Not hop, run, dash and so on."

"Okay. Please, Dr. Mohegan, one more game."

"You should sleep, Henry. Your body needs rest."

"Too late. Uncle Mike promised to come before the end of his shift. Just one more game. Please."

It'd be a few hours before Mike came, but Henry wouldn't sleep anyway because he wasn't tired.

I let out a resigned sigh. I could be the highest authority of my clan, but I was fair game for a 168-IQ six-year-old genius with a particular talent for chess.

"Okay. One more and then you're going back to your room. Deal?"

Henry beamed. "Deal!"

A PRIORITY 1 CALL HAD come at 3:25 a.m.

"D-4, patient responsive," the dispatch voice said. "Fifty-six Tamarack Drive. Number three ready to dispatch from Dock C."

I froze. This was Tess's Randall address. D-4 indicated third-semester pregnancy bleeding.

"On my way," I said, jumping to my feet and reaching for my bag. "Henry, go to your—"

The door opened and a man burst in.

Sheriff Mike Dalton.

Or not.

If my late-night visitor had been our sheriff, I wouldn't have been surprised to see him. Jack had asked Mike to accompany me to emergency calls whenever he could.

But the man who stood in front of me wasn't him. My weakened olfactory sense couldn't tell me who he was or wasn't, but my vision was working just right. Mike's walk, posture and movements were different. Mike was a lefty, and this man's gun was holstered on the wrong side.

The real Mike Dalton, who'd moved to Red Cliffs from southern Texas when his sister married his best friend, Jason Radford, had a prominent drawl, as authentic to him as the Stetson he wore on and off duty alike.

The Stetson was here, and probably an original, but he didn't touch its brim, which was Mike's innate gesture. The southern Texas accent was a fake, too.

They came to take me to Copper Ridge.

"Uncle!" Henry jumped from his seat and immediately sat back.

The man blinked several times, then grinned. Too broad, too unnatural. It looked like a grimace, not a smile.

"Hey there... nephew. I'm here for Dr. Mohegan." Then to me, with a hint of a superior smile in his eyes, "Dr. Mohegan, go if you're ready."

I looked at him. He smiled. He knew I'd seen through his charade, but he didn't care.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Henry's small, stiffened form. His eyes moved back and forth from his "uncle" to me. I could almost see his little brain working hard to figure out what was going on.

Then he swallowed and smiled. "Hey, Uncle Mike, did you bring me ice cream?" He looked at me. "Yesterday I asked Uncle for chocolate ice cream with peanut crunch. My favorite. I hope it's okay Dr. Mohegan."

"Aw, I forgot," the man said. "I'll bring it later, okay?"

"Uncle Mike" didn't know that a lick of that ice cream could kill his "nephew", so allergic was Henry to dairy proteins. I couldn't help but marvel at Henry's quick thinking. And his bravery. He was trying to warn me this man was an impostor.

I crouched in front of Henry and placed my hands on his tiny shoulders. "Everything will be fine. Go to your room," I said. _"Don't try anything,"_ I mouthed and gave him a gentle squeeze.

His eyes went round like two green gumballs. _"It's not Mike,"_ he mouthed back.

I blinked and nodded.

"Okay, then. See you in the morning, Dr. Mohegan," he said and slid out of the chair.

His "uncle" stopped him. "Not so fast." He tilted his head toward the shoulder microphone. "Need you at 205." He turned to Henry. "Where's your room, er, buddy? I forgot."

Henry made a vague motion with his hand. "Down the hall."

A moment later an unknown woman in a nurse's uniform came in. "Escort my nephew to his room," the man said. "Is Bill done?"

She nodded. "He's in the ambulance."

Another attacker, Bill. What did she mean? What had Bill been _done_ with?

When the door closed behind Henry, the man grabbed my phone from the desk and put it in his pocket. "You won't need it," he said, dropping his fake accent. "It's dead anyway."

"What are you going to do with Henry?" And to the little human boy, who laughed in sleep?

"Ah, that's my nephew's name," he said. "You can't predict everything, can you? He'll be fine. She'll lock him up and make sure he can't call for help. Now let's go. I'll be behind you, so don't try anything stupid. The hallway, the emergency stairways and the loading docks are under a Talsyn so strong your folk can't notice it."

"Who did it?" I asked my captor with not much hope for the answer. Only the most powerful among us could create it, like Morgaine, myself, my grandmother and Livia.

"Violet Kincaid, Seth's long-time friend and associate. You'd think she's an average blaidd benywaidd. Well, she's mighty. And she hates you and your mother. This is some kind of revenge if I understand. Your mother had Violet's lover killed."

A shock. Disbelief. Rage. And then the voice of reason. No. No. It couldn't be her.

Or could it?

Then my brain registered something else he had said and my heart jumped. They'd made a Talsyn only "my folks" couldn't see through. Ahmed could! They didn't know he was part asyr. He could see us. _I_ would've, had my pregnancy not disabled most of my fine sensors. Ahmed would figure out something was wrong the moment he opened his door or reached for the phone.

"Jack will be looking for me before you think," I said as we stepped out of my office. The hallways and the staircases were empty. Had the staff been there, I could've seen them, but they couldn't have seen me. If we collided, we'd just go through each other. Our physical entities belonged to different realities.

"Well, we'll be ready." My captor tugged my arm to encourage me to walk faster. "Hurry up. In case you're wondering, Sheriff Dalton is busy with a false alarm in the bank, and your Turk watchdog is lying unconscious in his office."

Ahmed. Oh, no! "What did you do to him?"

He ignored my question. "Aren't you excited to see your mother? Seth locked her up. He's going to kill her unless he did already. You don't want to miss the chance to say goodbye to her. In other words, don't get any ideas about escaping."

An invisible hand squeezed my heart. They had my mother. How could we have underestimated our enemy so much?

I took a deep breath. Darius was there. Ahmed would notice we were missing sooner or later. Jack would storm Copper Ridge with his people, Liv's Tel-Urughs, wizards, Ellida Morgaine. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

I breathed in and out several times until my heart slowed down. There was no way back. The game had started, and for a moment I almost felt relief. Red Cliffs' war chieftain was going to war, although not on a white horse.

Not to mention my army was nowhere to be seen.

I turned to my kidnapper as we approached the ambulance. "Tell me about Tess Randall?" I said. "Was she bleeding or not? Did she make that call at all?"

This time he decided to answer. "Yes. At first, she refused, but then she didn't really have a choice, did she? Don't worry about her. She's tied up, but fine. But here we have someone else who wants to meet you. We took him with us to secure Mrs. Randall's and your cooperation."

He opened the rear loading doors and pushed me in. "Here she comes, Bill."

A young paramedic I'd never seen before held Graeme Randall in his arms. "Shit!" I cursed quietly and jumped in. The door shut behind me. I sat on the floor and held out my arms. "Give me the boy," I yelled to the paramedic. "Right away!"

"He's okay, Astrid," the paramedic said. "He's sleeping now. Leave him here with me."

I looked up at him, then at his hands, and smiled. A twenty-year-old blond, blue-eyed Ahmed smiled back. "Couldn't call you," he whispered. "They threw up a mighty Talsyn. I didn't know how to remove it. How long will it hold?"

"Long enough. Once I'm in Copper Ridge, they won't need it anymore." At the speed we drove, we'd be at our destination soon.

"Can anything break through a Talsyn?" Ahmed asked.

I shrugged. "An alarm. Fire, smoke, water sprinkles."

"The phones, they are dead. Landlines, mobiles, all of them, but they managed to make them look as if they work, only the signal is busy."

"How do you know?"

"The guy who tried to stab me with a tranquilizer," Ahmed whispered. "Bill. He's in my office, unconscious."

"Henry. He was with me, in my office when they came. He figured out what was happening. I'm so afraid they may hurt him. Or Nathan."

"They'll just lock them up. They don't want unnecessary complications."

I made a movement with my head toward Graeme.

"He's fine," Ahmed said.

He was talking too loudly. I put my finger over my lips.

Ahmed shook his head. "They are humans. They can't hear us if we talk quietly."

"Hu-humans?" It sounded as if someone squeezed the air out of my lungs. _The humans kidnapped an ellida in the middle of a protected werewolf territory?_

In the semi-darkness of the ambulance, I could see Ahmed's jaw clench. "Our big mistake. Nobody had expected humans to be involved in Seth's plans. What happened in your office?"

I filled him in with the details of my last fifteen minutes. "My kidnapper wanted me to believe it was Violet Kincaid who made the Talsyn," I said. "I don't believe him."

"Hmm. Violet Kincaid. Her name pops up way too often to be a coincidence."

"He says they're keeping my mother prisoner. Seth probably knows by now she's betrayed him."

"Not necessarily. I think they manipulate us with half-truths and lies until you don't know what to believe. Violet might be bait, your mother as well. But Rowena's clever; she knows how to protect herself."

I rubbed my forehead. "Humans, huh? Why didn't we think about humans?"

"Because we keep humans out of our internal conflicts. That's an unwritten rule all the Langaer follow."

"Who are they? Seth wouldn't risk it with just anyone."

"I'm speculating now, but think about it. Why not? He didn't need them for the dirtiest jobs; for that, he has blaidds and Tel-Urughs. Petty human criminals, people from the margins that no one would miss—they were perfect for spying, for _little_ dirty jobs. And they are cheap if Seth's ever intended to pay them. Their minds have been altered so that they don't see what they don't need to see. God knows what _they_ thought they were doing for Seth."

I shook my head. "Yet, they've been his key players. Clever move. That's why we didn't notice anything unusual."

"I suspect Seth used them mostly to spy on us," Ahmed said. "They were able to sneak in and out of town. Nobody would notice them in a town full of tourists. Once back in Copper Ridge, someone would change their scent so that they smelled like Tel-Urughs so it looked like Seth had a small army of them."

"Then we don't know exactly how many Tel-Urughs he has, do we?" I said. "He wanted us to believe he has eighty. He might have three hundred eighty or none. Remember when Darius said how well they behaved? They were humans. Controlling humans is easier than keeping rogue Tel-Urughs on a leash."

"There are some Tel-Urughs on his payroll, for sure," Ahmed said. "With his treasury almost empty, he couldn't afford to hire a whole whack of them, but he has to have some. Your kidnapper's a Tel-Urugh. He motioned toward the front of the ambulance. "These two are humans and the two in the car behind us are Tel-Urughs. Bill is a blaidd. And all had their smell altered, according to Bill."

"They had at least one more person in the clinic. The 'nurse'."

"Probably a few more, but I guess they already left. I don't think they wanted to be there when hell broke loose. The question is—who's been changing their scent, back and forth? Many Langaer can change appearance; it's not a big deal. But scent? It's our essence, like DNA. It requires advanced skills."

"What did you do with your scent?"

"Neutralized it and prayed for the best." He rubbed his face with both hands, something that he did when he felt confused. "That's advanced magic. Can Violet do it?"

"I don't know," I said, "Even if she can, I don't think she's a traitor."

He reached out and took my hand. "Jack will be in Copper Ridge in no time."

Exactly where Seth wanted him to be, with me as a hostage. "How long will it take them?"

"After they figure out we're missing, two to three hours at most."

I wrapped my arms around my stomach. "They are ready for us, Ahmed."

Ahmed smirked. "We're ready for them as well."

A wave of panic crashed over me. "We fell into the trap and now we're exactly where Seth has wanted us."

"We have a couple of cards up our sleeve. They won't know what hit them."

The genuine confidence in his voice stopped a bubble of hysteria rising in my throat.

GRAEME WOKE UP AND STARTED crying. Ahmed brushed away his tears.

"I want to go home," Graeme sobbed. "I want to see my mom."

"You will, buddy. I promise. Try to sleep a little bit more." He whispered something into the boy's ear, and Graeme fell asleep again.

We sat quietly for a while. "What are we going to do when we get there?" I asked, my voice small and high pitched. I didn't sound like me at all. I was scared like never before.

"That depends on what we find there. And who," Ahmed said. "We have to buy some time. Try not to make Seth angry. Stick to Darius, if possible. I'll keep changing my appearance and stay close to you."

His hand reached out and stroked my cheek. "Astrid, it's going to be just the two of us for a while. And Darius, hopefully. I'll do anything to protect you. You must promise me not to do anything stupid, like trying to fight them."

My arms instinctively closed around my belly. "I promise," I whispered and swallowed tears. "Please don't get killed, Ahmed."

He smiled. "I don't intend to, _tatlim_. Fate has grand plans for me."

After less than one hour on the road, the ambulance stopped. We'd arrived at Copper Ridge.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Astrid

THE REAR DOOR OF THE ambulance opened. My kidnappers were nowhere to be seen. Instead, several uniformed men stood on each side of the door.

One of them stepped forward. "You." He pointed his finger at me. "Follow me." Then he looked at Ahmed. "And you, take the boy to headquarters and lock him up."

Then his hand reached for my elbow.

I jerked my arm away. "Do _not_ touch me. I can walk myself."

Ahmed threw me a warning look, but to my surprise, the man took a step back. "Move!" he said in a sharp, deep voice. It sounded like an angry bark. "And don't get any ideas, Ellida, or your mother will be..." He paused to make sure I looked at him then moved his finger across his throat.

I took a deep breath, to memorize his scent so that I could find him later.

Only to remember I couldn't do that anymore.

Only to realize at the split moment that I _could_. His scent reached my turned-off detectors and switched them on, storing its unique imprint in my brain.

A small miracle I didn't have time to mull over.

We walked through the foggy, cold night toward a stone castle that stood isolated on a flat-topped mound. Despite the dire situation I was in, it was impossible not to notice the peculiar stone structure, a smaller replica of Krak des Chevaliers, the famous eleventh-century Crusader castle in Syria.

Seth's Castle, as it was called, was encompassed with several layers of defensive walls and sported other middle-age castle features—a gatehouse, towers, the keep, even a chapel. I remembered Jack and James mentioning Seth's "Castle" built two decades ago. Out of place, time and context, it was beautiful nonetheless.

After a brisk walk through the gatehouse, across the inner yard and through endless dark corridors and secret passages, we entered the keep, Seth's residence.

The guard pushed me inside and secured the heavy wooden door from the outside.

I didn't have time to assess the interior. My immediate attention was drawn to a figure on the floor, curled into a ball. She moaned and lifted her head.

As if in a trance, I walked to her and sank to my knees.

"Mother?"

She parted her lips to say something, but the words stayed trapped in her throat. A soft, painful groan came out instead.

"Shhh, don't talk," I stuttered, choking over my own words. Her face was a purplish-black mass of bruises and cuts. Some of them still bled. "Did he do that to you?"

"She didn't come on time," she whispered. "My messenger. I sent her to warn you."

I brushed away a lock of her hair from her forehead. It was stiff, sticky and smelled of blood. She tried to sit up, but I prevented her by pushing her gently back. "I'll be all right," I said. "I promise. Did Seth beat you?" I asked again.

"Not personally. Don't worry, it looks worse than it is." She managed a tiny smile. "Astrid, my baby, let me see you." My mother's trembling hand stroked my cheeks. Through her swollen eyelids, I could see her soft-grey eyes shiny with tears. "You're beautiful. You look like your father, except his eyes are blue. She blinked. "Were blue. Come closer."

"I'm here, Mom. I'm here," I said, choking with tears. "Don't talk."

"Seth used humans for spying. For following you. But someone very powerful works for him. We tried to warn you. I couldn't call; he took my phone and locked me up, so I sent a messenger. We don't know what happened to her."

"Who is she?"

My mother's eyes closed and her body sagged. I thought she had lost consciousness.

"Mom. Mom, stay with me!"

Her eyes fluttered open. "I'm here. Don't worry." She took a breath and grimaced. "Darn, it hurts."

Cracked ribs? Punctured lungs? Internal bleeding? Humans couldn't do much physical harm to us, but another Langaer was a different story. "Let me examine you," I said, pushing down panic.

"It's nothing, really. I'm already healing ... I don't know what happened to Gabby and Miriam. We were all arrested after midnight. I was brought here."

"Who are they? Your friends?"

"Yes. I know where they took them. They could be dead. Oh, God."

"And Darius?" I said, desperate for some good news. _Tell me he's fine._

"Seth doesn't trust him, but he doesn't think Darius has conspired with us."

"They'll be fine," I said, aware of how unconvincing I'd sounded. My hands checked my mother's body for breaks, cracks and internal injuries. "Don't talk now. Save your energy. Would you be able to translocate when you recover a bit?"

"Even if I can, I'm not leaving you, Astrid. Never again." She lifted her hand and brushed away my tears, letting her own run down her cheeks. "He got you. Bastard."

"Mom, if you can, you must go." I tried one more time.

She shook her head. "I can't, my love. The castle walls are too thick, the windows can't be opened without special keys. Seth's guards are everywhere. I'd need more time than we have to gather enough energy to fight them. Darius will be here soon and he'll take us out."

I finished the checkup and let out a relieved sigh—she wasn't seriously hurt. The bruises looked terrible, but they were superficial and her strong blood was dealing with them. What was even better, her body was healing with astounding speed.

"Tell me about Seth's hirelings," I asked after helping her to sit up. "The blaidds and Tel-Urughs. I guess he won't use the humans for a fight."

"He has about a hundred Tel-Urughs and blaidds. And his private guard, about two hundred. They'll fight hard. They know if they lose, their lives aren't worth a dime."

"Mom, who here is powerful enough to change human scent and control their memory _en masse_?"

She gave me a weak smile. "I don't know. Someone with great powers _is_ here. Has been for a while. But whoever he is, Seth wouldn't parade him around."

Or her. "Does Violet Kincaid have great powers?"

My mother gave me a confused look. "Violet? She does, yes. But she's one of us."

I didn't believe she was a traitor, but one of them? A woman who supposedly hated my mother and didn't like me? "The man who kidnapped me said she was Seth's spy," I said.

My mother's hand clutched her throat. "Oh, no. Oh, God, no. That means they caught her. Oh!"

"Are you sure she's on our side? We know she was in Copper Ridge many times in the last few months."

My mother smiled weakly. "Of course, she was. She's been my messenger. My right hand. For years."

I shook my head in disbelief. "But Red Cliffs thinks she hates you because—"

"Because she was in love with your father, and he married me. Yes. We didn't like each other very much at the beginning. But many things happened since then, Astrid. Violet Kincaid's a brave woman. Only a few people know who she is and what she does, and that excludes Darius, Jack and your Uncle James."

"Morgaine knows." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"What else has been kept from me, Mom?"

"A lot," she said with a weak smile, "but this is not the best time for big revelations. Trust me about Violet."

"I do." I smiled at my mother, and she smiled back.

"I'm feeling much better," she said. "I'll be able to walk soon. You have a healer's touch, Astrid." She lifted her hand but stopped in the middle of the movement. "May I?"

I took her hand and guided it to the small, round swell of my belly. "It's a girl, Mom," I said. Then words deserted me. I had so many questions, so much to say, but my throat was parched, and tears were stinging my eyes. If I but opened my mouth, I'd lose it.

I pressed my hand against hers, letting my unborn daughter connect all three of us.

"Jack will be here soon with his people," I whispered after a long, healing silence. "Maybe he already is. Just don't let anything happen to you. I need you, Mom. I have so much to ask you."

"You stay put. Don't worry about me. If Seth sends for you, don't make him mad. He's a narcissist. He loves to be courted and flattered. And feared. Don't oppose him."

No sooner had she finished than the door burst open and my archenemy walked in, followed by two of his guards. He approached us with a cocked head and a smile on his lips. His eyes remained cold. Legs slightly apart, hands on his hips, he stopped in front of us.

"Well, well, isn't that a sight! I've been waiting to see you for years, Astrid. Welcome to your new home. Be a good girl and I might keep your mother alive." He sighed. "Or not. It's a tough decision."

My heart froze.

And then, a familiar voice inside my head said, _"Stay calm."_

I didn't have time to dwell on the remarkable comeback of my wolf. I was just very, very happy she was with me. My spirit lifted; I felt protected.

Encouraged by her presence, I focused on Seth.

He was dressed in accordance with his surroundings, in clothes inspired by early medieval military attire: a short burgundy tunic with a gold lion emblem on it, black pants and knee-high boots. A long, heavy sword in a sheath hung from the left side of his belt, an elaborate dagger on the right.

Seth was one of the most beautiful men I'd ever seen, with the face of a Greek god and a strong and agile body.

Only his eyes revealed his mental state. They either couldn't keep their focus longer than a few short moments, or they would concentrate on something that wasn't there. They were feverish and alive at one moment, clouded and dull the next. They were wide-open and round when he talked to me, and two malicious, narrow slits when he addressed my mother. Even their color shifted from bright blue to stormy grey.

Well. This was the man who'd killed my father and Brian Canagan, abused my mother, and made me run and hide all my life.

He turned to me. "I would like you to meet my son," he said with pride in his voice. "We have a wedding to conduct so let's not waste any more time." He clasped his hands and the door opened again. "Tell Darius to join us," he ordered one of his guards, darting his gaze between my mother and me.

Darius rushed in moments later, followed by a man in a police uniform. I glanced at the man, hoping he was one of Darius's allies. My eyes stopped on a pair of familiar hands. Ahmed.

The next thing I noticed was a silent exchange between my mother and Darius—his discreet nod and an almost invisible loosening up of her shoulders.

I hoped it meant that Violet, Gabby, Miriam and Mom's other arrested friends were safe.

"Astrid, meet your future husband," Seth said with a broad smile, a wide movement of his hand, bringing me back. His eyes were fixed on me, waiting for my reaction.

" _Be careful now,"_ I heard my wolf's voice. _"Let him think you're scared."_

" _I_ am _scared,"_ I said to her.

" _We'll find a way out of this mess, I promise."_

Seth's eyes moved down to my stomach. "It doesn't matter that you're pregnant. Darius will raise your babe as his own. Or we can get rid of it."

I swallowed a scream. My mom's breath hitched.

" _He's bluffing."_ I heard my wolf's calm voice. _"Tell him, 'I'll do what you want, just don't hurt my baby'. You look terrified, that's good."_

I repeated my blaidd-benywaidd's words.

Satisfied with my answer, Seth smiled triumphantly. "I'll do more, Ellida. I'll let your mother be present at your wedding. After that..."

His voice trailed off, leaving no doubts about his intentions. The smile on his face froze my blood.

He turned to Darius. "Bring Violet Kincaid here. You know where she is. I have a job for her. She's been working for me for years," he added, looking around the room, addressing no one in particular. "My wife thinks Violet worked for _her_ and her friends." In a swift movement, he rounded Darius and stomped toward my mother, coming to a stop only a few inches from her. "She fooled you, dear wife," he said bending down toward her and getting into her face. "Violet Kincaid has your first husband and Brian Canagan's blood on her hands. I have proof."

Seth made me take a hasty step back, to get out of his way, but my mother stood her ground. She just looked at him, her face unemotional.

" _Courage, Astrid. I won't let him hurt the baby,"_ my wolf said in a soft voice.

I trusted her. The air found its way to my lungs again.

When he realized he wouldn't get any response from my mother, he turned to Ahmed. "You, what's your name?"

"Boris Volkov, sir."

"Volkov... Volkov. Ah, yes. You're my chief of police, aren't you? You stay here. They're your responsibility now. But don't worry, our ellida can't use her witch wand. She's pregnant. My wife, well, she misplaced hers long ago anyway."

He laughed, finding himself exceptionally amusing.

As if we weren't his concern anymore, he jerked his head in Darius's direction to follow him, pivoted on his heel and left us. For a moment his guard wasn't sure what to do, but then made up his mind and followed his master.

"Man, he's a total cuckoo," Ahmed murmured as the heavy door closed behind them. In a few long strides, he was beside me. "Are you okay, Astrid?"

"I'm fine," I said and smiled, to prove it.

Ahmed looked at my mother still sitting on the floor and knelt beside her.

"Ms. Vandermeer." His hand reached for her bruised face, to examine her. It was the spontaneous reaction of a doctor upon seeing an injured person, but my mother jerked away.

"No need. Astrid's already examined me. By the way, who the hell are you, _Boris Volkov_? I'm sure you're not our chief of police."

In a blink, Ahmed's face and body rearrange into his own appearance. My mother watched it with interest.

"Graeme's safe," Ahmed said, turning to me. I don't know about Henry." Then he addressed my mother. "I'm Ahmed Demir, Astrid's friend and colleague. Ms. Vandermeer, Darius wants you to know that those who were arrested yesterday are safe."

My mother let out a deep sigh. "All of them?"

"All of them."

If they were free, it meant that the battle had started. I felt almost relieved.

I took a deep breath. "Mother," I said, helping her pull herself up, "Ahmed is my good friend. He's also a doctor. He disabled one of the kidnappers and came here with me."

In a very ladylike manner, she smoothed her dress and fixed her hair. She didn't offer him her hand. Instead, she took a small step back, as if she needed a small distance to see him better. "My son told me about you."

"Can you walk? Let me help you," Ahmed said.

Another small step back. "I'm fine, thank you. We should wait for Violet."

"What did Seth say about Violet having been responsible for those murders?" I asked.

My mother waved me off. "Nonsense. Seth had multiple confessions, including mine."

"Did she turn you? We heard it was a woman."

"We let everyone believe it was Gabby. She almost got killed for that. But it was Violet."

Another story that had to wait to be told. "It doesn't matter, Mom." I looked at Ahmed. "Where are our men?"

"They should be here already. Darius sent his people to meet them on the east border. Livia and her Tel-Urughs will enter from the south."

My mother swallowed. "Mom and Dad? Are they here, too?"

"Yes, of course. Nothing would've stopped them from coming," I said softly and tucked a stray lock behind her ear. "You'll see them soon."

"And Livia's bringing her Tel-Urugh friends?" Mom said. "That's good."

"And several upiri hunters," Ahmed said.

"We also have two hundred well-trained and very angry werewolves, who've been waiting for this for a long time," I said. "Darius's people, Ingmar, Ellida Morgaine and a hundred warriors that a clan from the north sent us. They arrived at Red Cliffs three days ago. Just in time."

A smile touched my mother's face. "Bessim has sent you his best fighters, I know that."

No time to inquire how she knew Winston's einhamir. I took her hand between mine. "Mom, Brian Canagan's parents are coming as well. They came to Red Cliffs a while ago, to help us."

To my amusement, a broad smile lit my mother's face. "I know. I'm looking forward to seeing them."

I looked at her in surprise. Shouldn't she be wary of them? Before I said anything, my mother raised her hand.

"Later."

Chapter Sixty-Three

Astrid

WE WAITED FOR VIOLET TO be brought in.

I sat on the floor between Ahmed and my mother, holding her hand. I could hear the two of them talking, their voices no more than a soft murmur.

One hour passed. Then another.

The thick stone walls and magic kept all the outside noises out. The room didn't have windows to peek outside. The heavily armored guards were on the other side of the door. Or perhaps not, which didn't change a thing. Both Mom and Ahmed had tried to take down the sound barrier, unsuccessfully. They combined their werewolf and wizard magic to figure out the door lock. With no luck.

What if something happened to Darius? I thought.

What if someone had thrown up another powerful Talsyn, making us invisible?

What if Jack didn't find us? What was going on outside? What if he lost the battle?

Dread crept up my spine like ice-cold tentacles.

" _Hey, ease up. It'll be fine."_

My blaidd benywaidd's voice cut through my fear like a sunray through the fog.

" _You're here! Stay with me,"_ I said. _"I need you."_

" _I need you, too."_

" _How come you are here? Haven't we been connected once and for all?"_

" _Well, we are,"_ she said, _"but in times of great peril, I will always come."_

" _It won't harm my baby?"_

She growled.

Oops. Wrong pronoun. _"_ Our _baby,"_ I corrected myself.

" _Yes,_ our _baby._ _Do you really think I'd do anything to harm her?"_

" _Sorry. I know you wouldn't, blaidd benywaidd."_

She sighed. _"Listen. Do something for me. I want my own name. I don't want to be called blaidd benywaidd anymore or, even worse, wolf. Can you call me Louise? I kinda like that name. I think it suits me well."_

I chuckled. _"An interesting request for someone who claims she's joined me. Sure. I'll officially add Louise to my name. I like it. It suits you indeed. While we're on that subject, I've been thinking about naming the baby Rosalie. What do you think?"_

She didn't say anything for a moment, stunned by my question. I'd surprised her. _"Oh. Well, thank you for asking. That's really nice of you. Hmm. Rosalie... Rosalie,"_ she repeated with so much love in her soft voice _. "A tad old-fashioned, but in a good way. Rosie. I love it." She tilted her head. "Will Jack agree?"_

" _We outvote him two to one, don't we?"_

She chuckled. _"I guess."_

A long silence followed. Or short. _"Are you still here?"_ I asked.

" _I am not going anywhere. Well, for a while. One more thing. I like what we've become, I mean you and me together. I want you to know that."_

" _I like it, too. I'm proud of you, you know. But are we 'together'? How come we can do this?"_

" _Every ellida has her own special set of gifts. Feeling life through light and colors, talking to each other, like today, that's a part of the package you and I got. You can always call me, and I'll come."_

" _In other words, we can separate on demand."_

" _It's not a separation, Astrid. We are one and we are two at the same time."_

" _We're truly the one of the two bloods, huh?"_

She laughed. _"More than any other ellida. The bottom line is: we can split, sort of, when it's necessary, to help each other. It's harmless. I'm always with you, I_ am _you. Clear as mud, huh?"_

" _There is no need to understand everything. Some things just are."_

" _You're a wise asanni, did I tell you that? Astrid, don't be scared. Fear is the worst enemy."_

" _I worry—"_

" _About Jack, and Mom, Ahmed, Darius, Henry, Peyton, our grandparents. I know. You always worry too much. Everything will be fine. I promise."_

"I trust you."

"TRUST WHO?"

It was my mother's voice. Apparently, I'd said the last sentence aloud.

"Never mind."

I didn't know how long my and Louise's conversation had lasted. It could have been minutes or hours. Unable to do anything but sit and wait to be rescued, I closed my eyes and thought about the future. Life without fear. My baby growing in my womb. Jack.

The faint yet unmistakable scent of smoke brought all my senses to a screaming alert.

Fire!

Ahmed was on his feet, tearing off his jacket and tucking it under the door. He and my mother tried to break the lock again. I sat, helpless as a child.

Then, in my inner mind, I saw coils of soothing ocean blue, the green of a rushing river, the pinkish-gold of sunrise, and I knew we'd be fine.

" _It's a small fire down the hall. The walls are made of stone, they won't burn. Stay calm. Darius is coming any moment now."_

"Darius is coming," I repeated Louise's words. I didn't know how she knew, but I didn't have the luxury of doubting her.

Several minutes later, the door burst open letting Darius and Violet in. He held her by her wrist. Violet's face was swollen and dirty, her clothes torn, but she was smiling.

The very first smile I'd ever seen on her face.

We all jumped to our feet.

"Rowena, are you okay?" Violet asked, struggling to free herself. "Ellida, you?"

My mother confirmed with a nod; I uttered a quick "yes".

"Time to get out," Darius shouted, slamming the door behind him.

Violet jerked her arm out of Darius's grip and rushed to my mother's side. Darius reached out to stop her, but my mother said, "It's all right, son. She's with us."

Darius looked doubtful. "I wouldn't just disregard what Seth said. What if—"

"She's Iris. My messenger."

Violet's code name made sense; Iris was one of the mythological messengers.

Darius stared at Violet. "Iris? But Iris looks completely different! She's blond and more, er, I mean less..."

"Less slender?" Violet offered, tilting her head. "Like this?" Her appearance changed in the blink of an eye: hair, facial features, body—and yes, Iris was curvier—posture, everything. Only her eyes stayed the same—deep blue and serious. Then, only seconds later, she resumed her normal look. "Unfortunately, my skills are limited. This is one of very few appearances I can adopt."

Ahmed watched the transformation with open curiosity. "Still impressive," he murmured, but then sobered and turned to a still-stunned Darius. "How bad is the fire?"

Darius cleared his throat. "Was. My men put it out. It was a small fire down the hall. But we're not going that way. The castle is still not secured."

I stepped forward. "Violet. Let me check your wounds."

She gave me a broad, warm smile. "I'm fine, Ellida. More dirty than injured." Then to my mother, "They caught me on the border and threw me in jail. Volkov's people let me out and brought me to Darius. I'm so sorry, Rowena, I didn't make it on time."

My mother hugged her. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Vi. Nothing would've changed if you had. Seth's people were already at Red Cliffs."

"Seth knew way more than we anticipated," Violet said.

"Yes, and he thought he was ahead of the game. But then, _we_ knew much more than he ever dreamed we knew. I'm glad it's over."

"It's not over yet, Mother," Darius said gently. "Not until Seth is dead." Then he delivered the news I'd been waiting to hear for hours. "Jack's here with his people, Astrid. The battle is in full swing, but it's going to be over way before we thought. Now move a bit, will you?"

"Did you see him? Is he okay?" I asked, stepping back.

Darius crouched and looked at the floor planks. "He's okay. I didn't speak to him, the phones are useless, but I sent a courier. He brought a message for you from Jack. So, first, he loves you. Second, he says Tess is fine. Finally, someone called Henry is safe as well.

I closed my eyes, dizzy with relief.

Darius patted my arm and looked up at Ahmed. "I guess you'll miss the battle, my friend. Jack wants you to stay with Astrid and Mother. And Violet, as it happens."

"That's fine", Ahmed said. "Protecting Astrid is a priority."

"Ah, here it is," Darius murmured. From his pocket, he took out a short crowbar and a big, heavy, old-fashioned key.

The wood cracked as he stuck the crowbar's chisel between the planks and forced them apart. Then again. Then again, until an iron trapdoor appeared. Darius pushed the key into the lock and turned it.

When he lifted the door, a narrow, steep stone staircase came into view. Darius went first, leaving the key with Ahmed, to lock the door from inside. One careful step at a time, we climbed down.

The almost vertical passage—a strip of rough steps carved into the bedrock—led us to a maze of horizontal tunnels. We were under the castle. It was dark and cold inside, but the air was surprisingly dry. No smoke, no moldy smell.

Darius knew the way. We made many turns, going a few stone steps down, then a few up, then down again. After another long ascent, we hit a heavy wooden door with iron fixings and studs. Here Darius produced another key and unlocked it.

It was an armory, filled with weapons that looked like they were straight from the time of the Crusades.

Ahmed grabbed a short sword and a dagger in passing; Darius helped himself to a long sword and a couple of knives. Mom and Violet fetched a dirk each. Judging by Darius's look, he still wasn't comfortable seeing Violet armed.

I came to a halt, my eyes searching for something suitable for me. Several long swords lay scattered around, all too big and too heavy for me.

" _That heap on your left. Look under that breastplate with a double eagle crest,_ " I heard Louise's voice.

" _Louise, you rock!"_

I lifted the silvery armor. Underneath lay a wooden bow and a leather quiver with twelve arrows. I grabbed the bow and swung the quiver over my shoulder.

"You won't need that, Astrid," Darius said and reached out to take my weapon, but Ahmed stopped him. "Let her. She's good at that, Darius."

My mother looked at me. "You know how to use it?"

I grabbed her elbow. "Reasonably well," I said. "Let's go."

WHEN DARIUS OPENED THE ARMORY door on the other side of the room, I knew we were close to the exit. A cold breeze of fresh air touched my face. I could hear noise coming from outside: a cacophony of shouts, screams, swears, orders. Clashes of metal against metal, gunshots, shattering of glass. The faint scent of smoke, blood and fear.

The sounds and smells of battle.

Another short passage, another thick door, and we were out.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Astrid

LIKE THE NIGHT BEFORE, THE early morning was chilly and misty. I shivered, both from the fear of what I was going to see and from the cold. I was still only in my white doctor's coat, pants and running shoes.

Darius slapped Ahmed's shoulder then kissed my mother's cheek. "Off I go."

"Take care, son," my mother said, hugging him fiercely.

Darius came to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "You come out of this alive and well, hear me? I always wanted to have a sister."

"You too." I grabbed his upper arms. I'd tell him, to hell with Morgaine's orders. Only I didn't have time for the full story. "Promise to take care of yourself. You have a life to live. You'll never become like Seth. I have definite proof. You come out of this alive and well, and I'll show it to you. Hear me?"

His face paled. "You do? Have proof?"

I held his gaze so that he could see the truth in my eyes. "I swear I do."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded then kissed my forehead. "Be safe, Astrid. Sister," he said and ran down toward the combat zone.

I pivoted, facing two confused women and smiling Ahmed.

"What was that?" My mother whispered. "What proof?"

"Undeniable, Mother," I said, my eyes scanning the battleground for sight of Jack and the others. "But not now."

Where was he? Was he okay? My family? My friends?

"Let's get out of here," Ahmed said, looking around. "We're too exposed. We have to find a shelter."

"Don't forget Seth and his people had their scent neutralized," Violet said. "We wouldn't be able to smell them."

We crept forward, step by step, looking for a cover. As we turned around one of the castle towers, the noise of the battle became louder.

The main conflict seemed to be happening in the heart of the town, on the central square. There the united forces of Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge fought with Seth's mercenaries. I spotted Jack slashing his way through the enemy lines. I sobbed in relief: it didn't look like he was in trouble.

It was apparent that the blaidds on both sides had started fighting in their human form. Bound by the ancient war codex, they wouldn't change into wolves, no matter the course of the battle. Fighting as men, however, meant more wounds and possibly more casualties.

Several smaller groups of ferocious Tel-Urughs were engaged with some of Seth's hirelings. The Tel-Urughs were of similar height, dressed in the same black clothes and wore the same merciless expressions on their faces. That was part of Liv's show. In everyday life, they probably looked and behaved like ordinary people.

But now, beautiful and terrible in their black and red uniforms, they were fighting fiercely. Seth's mercenaries began retreating. The other group, fleeing from our fighters, stopped in front of a sturdy formation of Winston's warriors, who blocked their only escape route.

Winston's werewolves stood in firm rank, arrayed for a battle, impressive in their dark blue and silver uniforms and shiny silver helmets. They let Seth's soldiers come closer. Acting as one, the cool, stone-faced Winstonians drew their long swords and, without making a sound, advanced toward enemy lines. The mercenaries turned and ran back, in a weak attempt to push their way back through Jack's forces.

Caught between the Winstonians and the group lead by Captain Janet Falconer, they dropped their weapons and raised their arms in surrender.

On the edge of the town square, not far from the place where we stood among the sparse birch trees that stood at the park entrance, my uncle was furiously attacking a gang of five of Seth's personal guards. I recognized them by their red and black uniforms—the men who had escorted me from the ambulance to the castle had the same one. A few yards from Uncle James, on a small hillock, stood Takeshi, shooting arrow after arrow from his bow, each one finding its target.

A man screamed as flames consumed his red and black uniform, running toward a small wooden church.

"Takeshi!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Take him down! Take him down!"

Takeshi turned and sent an arrow at him. The man fell and the horrible screaming stopped.

But then I saw three men closing in on Takeshi.

Without thinking, I reached behind me, drew an arrow and held it on the string. I raised the bow and found the first target.

_Feel the path between your arrow and your target, Astrid._ Takeshi's words came to my mind. _Imagine it as a thin line. Then_ _align your arrow to it and shoot._

I took a deep breath, zeroed in on the man's right shoulder, and released the arrow. Then another one. Takeshi turned and took down the third attacker, then looked at me and smiled, giving me a thumbs up.

I let out my breath.

I pulled another arrow from the quiver and placed it on the arrow shaft.

In front of the city hall, I saw Dr. Falkenstein and Ella pulling the wounded from the battle, ours and theirs, without discrimination. Near them, my grandfather, Jack's grandparents, Takeshi's father and Alec Falconer fought with about a dozen men. A group of very young Copper Ridge boys and girls—they couldn't be older than seventeen or eighteen, armed with nothing but iron bars and wooden sticks, rushed to them with a loud war cry and attacked the enemy from behind.

One after another, I shot the rest of my arrows at the enemy soldiers, each one taking one of them down.

I placed my bow on the low stone wall in front of me and took off my quiver. "They're kids!" I said, pointing toward the brave Copper Ridge youth. "They don't even have weapons. How could Darius let them fight?"

"He didn't," Ahmed said. "They must've decided that on their own."

"They'll be fine," my mother said. "It seems that wizards have cast protective shields around all our people," my mother said.

"It's almost over," Ahmed said. "Look!" he pointed at Darius, who reached the young fighters and assailed the enemy. A group of several Winstonians joined them and finished the job.

"Peyton!" Violet gasped behind me. "She's over there! Can you reach her, Rowena?"

"I can't! She's too far, and I'm still too weak."

I followed her gaze. Peyton stood beside Ingmar, as they fought four of Seth's guards.

"Ingmar put a shield around her, Violet," I said quietly, even though I couldn't see it. But I knew Ingmar.

I watched the end of the battle with a strange, slow-motion feeling. It was like music from a music box—it was slowing down, tricking you into believing that after this particular note it must be over. Then you hear another note, then another.

Would it ever stop?

I saw Ingmar take down the last attacker and grab Peyton's hand. They dashed toward another group of enemy soldiers on the left.

Not far away from Peyton and Ingmar's new position, I saw Maggie and Eve covering each other's backs. So much for obeying the einhamir's orders to stay in Red Cliffs.

The music was slow, slow, yet still it played.

And then it stopped.

I looked for Jack once more and found him in front of the city hall, together with James, Sheriff Mike Dalton and Tristan. They stood around the remains of Seth's guard, who had their hands raised in surrender. My eyes stopped on the main street, which was once, who knew how long ago, probably very pretty with its cobbled road, narrow, tall houses with decorative beams, and old cast-iron lamps. Now the walls of houses were black from smoke, roofs were missing, windows were shattered and the handsome street lamps were broken.

In the middle of this destruction, though, I saw people hugging each other and laughing and crying—Copper Ridge's women and men who had fought that day for their freedom.

Was it really over?

On the opposite side of the town square, Janet Falconer, her husband Eric and the real Boris Volkov formed a semicircle around a dozen enemy soldiers, who had also thrown their weapons on the ground. Adam Mackenzie and Jordan Radford, Henry's father, were tidying up a group of Seth's guards.

The battle was over, and we had won.

"LET'S MOVE OUT OF HERE," Ahmed said. "We don't know where Seth is."

"But I'm here." Seth's cheery voice came from behind me.

My heart stopped. I slowly turned around. My enemy stood in front of me once more, sword, dagger and all.

" _Burn in hell, Seth Withali!"_ my wolf growled.

" _Stay with me,"_ I said to her. The feeling of dread eased up.

We were surrounded by two dozen desperate blaidds and Tel-Urughs with nothing left to lose.

"Damn," Ahmed cursed through his clenched teeth.

The next moment I felt a shield around me. By the feel of it, I'd say it would protect me against metal. My mother's, the strongest she could make.

"Surprised to see me, huh? Seth turned to me. "Astrid, you have really good aim. I'm impressed."

"Let Astrid go, Seth," Ahmed said. "It's over. You and your men are free to go. You have my word."

"And Jack Canagan would just let me disappear? Yeah. It's not over as long as I have his most valuable possession. The day's not over." He grabbed my forearm. "Let's go, Ellida. I'll let Jack see you're well and taken care of."

The guard encircled us and marched us toward the town square.

Now I was really fed up with Seth.

" _Are you there?"_ I called my wolf.

" _I am."_

" _What should I do?"_

" _First, don't panic. There are twenty-five of them, plus Seth. Let them take you down to the square so that somebody can see you. Your shield is weak."_

" _How many Tel-Urughs among them?"_

" _Eight, all of them around you. The rest are werewolves. They, too, are protected with some kind of shield. Hmm. Tel-Urugh version. Interesting."_

" _What now?"_

" _We wait. If the opportunity presents itself, know that you're safe to use your force and pull Seth's sword. He's left-handed, be careful. The knife he's carrying has a poisoned blade. The tip is especially dangerous. Very bad stuff."_

" _Can I draw out his knife?"_

" _No. Only Seth can do it. It's bewitched, too."_

I WALKED, FLANKED BY THE guards. Among them, I recognized my escort from last night.

We soon reached the first buildings around the town square.

"Look who's with me here, Jack Canagan!" Seth yelled in a high-pitched voice, pulling the dagger and raising it. It hit the invisible shield around me, vibrating, withdrawing as if pushed back by a magnetic field.

Not for long. With a loud buzz, the shield collapsed and the tip of the blade pressed between my breasts. I took a deep, jerky breath and closed my eyes, waiting for it to pierce my skin.

" _Louise?"_

" _I'm here. Stay calm, Astrid."_

Even from this distance, I could see every drop of blood draining from Jack's face.

"Release her, Seth, and you're free to go! Your guards, too!" Jack shouted back.

He walked slowly toward us, followed by James and my grandparents. Eve took a step forward to join them, but James stopped her.

"Too late, Jack!" Seth shouted.

I held my breath. The pressure between my breasts increased, yet the only sensation on my oversensitive skin was the warm touch from the back of my silver wolf pendant.

Then I heard a quiet snap.

The tip of the dagger had gotten caught between the wolf's teeth and broken off.

Seth must have realized what had happened because he slowly pulled the knife up until the blade stopped at my throat.

"I would've enjoyed killing you much more, Jack Canagan!" His voice was so loud that my eardrums cracked. "As much as I enjoyed killing your father, but you're out of my reach, and she's here. I'm going down, but she's going with me!"

" _Now or never, asanni!"_

Chapter Sixty-Five

Astrid

"THE HELL I AM!

My voice roared as my left arm snapped at Seth's forearm, knocking it off of my throat. The moment the contact between my skin and the knife was broken, I felt the shield surround me. Almost simultaneously, my mother, Ella, Ingmar and Morgaine raised the invisible armor over me once more. I felt Louise inside me, wrapping herself around our baby, keeping her safe.

At the same time, the shields around my enemies crumbled down.

My right hand stretched out. As if attracted by a strong, invisible magnet, Seth's longsword pulled itself from its sheath and flew to my palm. Without a second thought, I wielded it and slew the man standing next to me, the same one who'd threatened to slash my mother's throat. Then I turned to the rest of Seth's men, cutting my way through them. Ahmed and Darius were already fighting their way through the confused guards. Protected by the powerful wizard shield, I was able to fight, staying out of reach.

Jack, James and Darius reached us first, finishing off the last few men.

When it looked like it was almost over, the shield around me collapsed again as Seth's knife found my throat.

"The slightest movement, Jack Canagan, and she's gone forever!"

"No!" My mother and Violet cried in unison.

Several things happened simultaneously.

I saw my mother and Violet launching themselves at Seth. He was so shocked that he released me instantly, unharmed.

Seth's knife first flashed left, toward Violet, scratching only her neck because my mother had pushed her aside a nanosecond before. Then, Seth's arm moved right in the direction of my mother's heart. In the nick of time, before it reached its goal, the blade changed its trajectory as a big, unfamiliar, dark brown wolf with a scar across his face materialized out of nowhere. He jumped on Seth, knocking him off balance, and disappeared among the houses behind us.

Instead of piercing through my mother's heart, the knife left a shallow cut across her arm.

In slow motion I saw another unknown wolf, with light grey fur, sprinting toward me. In the split second before he reached me, I noticed his eyes, deep blue and shiny, with gold speckles around the pupils. He leaped on me, thrusting me to the ground so gently that I landed softly on the grass. He rolled over me, covering me with his body. And then, grabbing the collar of my white jacket between his strong jaws, he dragged me away from the fight as if I were weightless. He licked my face and sniffed me, as if he was trying to memorize my scent, and the next moment he vanished among the narrow streets.

Pulling myself to my knees, I saw my mother and Violet lying on the ground, unconscious.

Suddenly, there was total silence.

Staggering, Seth turned around in confusion, the dagger still in his left hand, eyes frantically searching for me.

I stood up. I saw Jack, with a sword in his hand, reaching Seth in a few long strides and bringing him down. I saw Seth's face deformed with madness, his eyes, wide-open and shocked. And then, for the briefest moment, they became strangely calm and relieved. Jack's sword rose one more time and, catching a sunbeam on its blade, swiftly slashed down. Seth Withali's head rolled off as if cut off by the light itself.

The rest of Seth's guard was brought down in no time.

I felt somebody's arms grabbing me and pulling me further back. My brain registered Morgaine's voice. "It's okay, Astrid! It's okay! She'll be fine! They'll both be fine."

I kicked and screamed but couldn't hear myself.

I saw Ahmed on his knees beside my mother as I tried to break free from the iron grip around me. I could hear nothing but two sets of heartbeats, one very weak, one just a little bit stronger: _thum-thum... thum-thum... thum-thum-thum-thum... thum... thum..._

"Livia! Over here!" Ahmed's voice broke through my mental barrier. With a feeling of strange detachment, I listened to the voices and registered movements around me. Ahmed's right hand covered my mother's left breast. I understood what he was doing—he was stopping the poison from reaching her heart. The other hand firmly gripped around her wound. Livia knelt down.

"Suck the poison out! Quickly!" Ahmed yelled.

Livia lifted my mother's injured arm, sealed her lips over the wound, sucking and spitting the black liquid on the ground several times. When she was done, she stood up and wiped off the traces of poison and blood from her lips with the back of her hand. "Now everything makes sense," she said and smiled. "Tristan, over here! You stay with Rowena. Ahmed, let's check Violet."

"My bond mate," Ahmed said, kind of dazzled and followed Liv.

" _MOTHER! MOTHER! LET ME SEE my mother!"_ I heard myself screaming, but no voice came out.

Then I heard Louise again. _"Mom's gonna be fine. Violet, too. I broke the tip, the most dangerous part of the knife. Clever move, huh? The poison on the blade is much less deadly. Her wound isn't deep. Listen, I need to go now."_

" _No! Don't go!"_

" _I must. Everything will be fine."_

" _The baby?"_

" _Rosie's okay. We all are."_

" _Jack?"_

" _Jack's fine, too. Relax. You always worry too much, asanni. Everything's fine."_ I heard her throaty laugh and the next moment Louise and I became one again.

STILL UNABLE TO ARTICULATE a single word, I watched my grandparents crouched beside their only child.

Ella was checking my mother's vitals; only a few yards away Ingmar was tending to Violet after Livia and Ahmed had dealt with the poison. Peyton sat beside her, holding her hand.

What had Ahmed meant when he said, "My bond mate"?

"Let me go! Let me go!" The high-pitched voice inside my head finally found its way to my lips. "Let me see my mother! Let me see her!" I screamed, fighting with all my might the strong hands that held me in place.

"It's okay, baby, it's me. She's gonna be fine."

A crazy carousel inside my head came to a halt. "Jack! Oh, Jack! Are you okay?" I turned and collapsed in his arms, sobbing heavily. My body suddenly felt boneless and heavy, but there was enough strength in my hands to run them across his body, checking for injuries.

"I'm okay, not a scratch. Are you okay? The baby?"

I panted heavily. "She's okay and safe. Here, feel her."

Jack flattened his warm palm against my abdomen and Rosie responded with a kick. "She sure seems well. Thank you for keeping her safe," he whispered in a thick, raspy voice.

"Louise. She came to protect her," I stammered.

"Louise?"

"My blaidd benywaidd A long story. Jack, a blaidd knocked me down. And another one saved my mother. I don't know who they were but I must find them."

"We'll find them."

"Good. Now I want to see my mother."

"In a moment, Astrid," Morgaine said from behind us. "Let me remove that bloody knife tip from your necklace."

She unclasped the silver chain from my neck and carefully pulled out a triangular piece of black metal stuck firmly between the wolf's teeth.

"Powerful protection, this pendant, I have to admit," she said. "Good thinking, Jack."

"I thought it might come in handy."

"There," Morgaine said securing the necklace back around my neck. "Beautiful piece. You should always wear it, Astrid. Now, go see your mother."

Jack wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. "She'll be okay, Astrid. Check for yourself."

MY MOTHER SEEMED UNCONSCIOUS, but her cheeks were rosy, and her heart beat in a steady rhythm. Ella and Gottfried were still beside her, each of them holding one of her hands. Robert, Anwen, Darius and Tristan sat on the ground behind them.

I sunk to my knees and gently ran my fingers along her face.

Ella brushed away her tears. "She'll be fine. But you, Astrid, you scared the shit out of us!"

My jaw dropped. It was the first time in my life I'd heard my grandmother swear.

"Like in her most glorious teenage days," my grandfather said with a chuckle. "Remember, Tristan?"

"Do I ever?"

"Do you know, Astrid, that it was Tristan who tracked us down in Cairo," Ingmar said, "and tipped off your grandfather and my dad?"

"That was confidential information, Mortensen," Tristan said. "You shouldn't know it."

"I knew it was him, Ingmar," I said. "We'll have our revenge sooner or later."

"What was she doing in Cairo?" Jack asked. "How come I don't know about that?"

"Some things are better left unsaid," I murmured and smiled, thankful for this silly, sweet memory of Ingmar's and my attempt to participate in an auto rally in Cairo. It was an additional assurance that everything was going to be fine. If my mom and Violet were in grave danger, no one would joke about our teenage mischiefs.

Jack bent and kissed my lips. "I still want to know them, eventually. Listen, I gotta go now. Don't forget to eat. Find some warm clothes and better shoes. You should rest for a while."

"I will, I promise," I said and hugged him. "I'll see you later. I love you."

"Take a rest, Astrid. Please. I love you, too."

I KISSED MOM'S CHEEK. It was soft and warm.

"It's cold," I said. "We should take Mother and Violet inside."

"Yes, but where?" my grandfather asked. "Where's Darius?"

"I'm here," Darius said, joining us. Three men and a slender brunette were with him. A quick introduction followed. The woman was my mother's friend Gabby, and the men Darius's acquaintances. "We'll take Mother and Violet to Gabby's house," he added.

"I'll send Miriam, my daughter, to stay with them," Gabby said as Darius's men carefully lifted the injured onto improvised stretchers.

My grandparents were reluctant to part with Mom. As was I.

Gabby noticed it. "Miriam's a nurse. They'll be fine," she said to us and motioned to the men to follow her.

"Dr. Vandermeer," Darius said to my grandmother, still looking after the stretchers, "Ingmar wants you to come to the hospital as soon as possible. Ahmed, you too. Master Gottfried, Einhamir Robert, I need you with me. We're opening Seth's treasure vault."

"I'm going to the hospital, too," I said.

" _You_ should rest," Darius said. "Eat something. Find something warm to wear. We have enough doctors and nurses there."

I shook my head. "I need to help the wounded, not to sit in some room with my feet up. Where's the hospital?"

Darius took off his jacket and wrapped it over my shoulders and ordered one of his men to escort Ahmed, my grandmother and me to the hospital.

THE SMALL COPPER RIDGE HOSPITAL was packed. People lay on gurneys, on narrow benches, on stretchers, on the floors. Some conscious, some not. Some quiet, some moaning softly. Or aloud. Men, women, teenagers. The floor was slippery with blood. I glanced around and saw Tristan, Livia, Ingmar, his parents, also doctors, and the local medical staff—all of them up to their eyebrows in work.

I took a deep intake of air that smelled of iron, dirt and sweat, and set to work.

Chapter Sixty-Six

Astrid

HOURS LATER, WHEN EVERYONE was helped, operated on, patched up or airlifted to Red Cliffs Clinic, I realized I might actually need a break. Or coffee at least. By a miracle, or some divine intervention, all our fighters had survived the battle, and that included Volkov's police force and Copper Ridge's civilians. Many were wounded, some quite badly, but everyone would recover.

Some of Seth's mercenaries hadn't been that lucky. The majority had surrendered, though, and they'd be prosecuted.

As for the key players, well, we still didn't know who they were, and we might never know. They were already gone.

Darius sent me to rest at his house, his and Jack's temporary headquarters. Adam Mackenzie caught me on my way there. "Just spoke to Jason Radford. Henry's recovering fine," he said after giving me a hug.

My breath caught. "Recovering from what? I heard he was fine! What did they do to him?"

"It wasna _them_. _He_ took a drink of milk."

" _Milk!_ Where did he find milk?"

"Dinnae ken the details, but he wanted to raise the alarm. He found a small carton of milk in the fridge, that's what I heard. It was for that human bairn. Henry hooked himself to the vital signs monitor, he remembered how you and Ahmed did it when you operated on him. Then he took a drink of milk and raised a Code Blue. Knew vera well the alarm would crash the bloody Talsyn. True enough, half of the staff was in his room in seconds. He told them they kidnapped you before he passed out. A brave lad. Put himself in grave danger."

The hair on my nape stood up. "Oh, God! Is he really okay?"

"Aye, he's fine. The wee bugger's sort of a celebrity now. Anyhow, I'm looking for Tristan. Did ya see him?"

I directed him to go to the hospital while I proceeded to my destination, still shaken with postponed fear.

I FOUND JACK HUDDLED OVER a town map splayed over the table. The room was illuminated by the big fire in the fireplace and several old-fashioned petroleum lamps. Most of the town was still without electrical power.

Jack temporarily abandoned his work to kiss me and take me to the armchair beside the fireplace. "Hey. How are we doing?" he asked crouching down and placing his big hand over my abdomen.

I put my hand over his. "We're great. Just met Adam. He told me what Henry did."

He stood up, dragged the other armchair across to mine and lowered himself into it with a satisfying sigh. "Gosh, this feels good... Your young knight saved the day."

"Oh, Jack. He could've died."

"But he didn't. He did something incredibly dangerous and incredibly brave, not only for a child of that age. It'd take a great deal of courage for a grownup man to do something like that." Jack smiled and brushed away my tears with his thumb. "As soon as he turns ten, I'm gonna make him my deputy or something."

"We should publicly acknowledge his bravery. He deserves that."

Jack's lips brushed over mine. "I already know what to do."

"What?"

"You'll see." He patted his knees. "Come here."

I nestled in his lap. For a moment we sat in silence. I rested my head against Jack's chest and closed my eyes. His arms closed around me. Calmness washed over me, relaxing my muscles and easing my mind. Jack's strong and steady heartbeat was reassuring.

"It's over," I murmured.

"It's over," Jack confirmed.

We'd fought and won. No more fear, no more hiding, no more pain.

"Did you see Darius?" I asked after a while, remembering the reason why I'd come here.

"He'll be here in a minute," Jack said, kissing the crown of my head. "Went somewhere to make coffee. Everyone still alive?"

"Everyone will make it," I said. "The wizards' protective shields worked." Not perfectly; some of the enemies' weapons had broken through it, but all in all, they worked well enough to make the potentially fatal injuries survivable.

Jack shook his head as if he was trying to shake off the image in his head. "Only the shield around _you_ collapsed. Twice. Seth could've killed you if it hadn't been for those two blaidds from Winston."

"True. But they were there, that's all that matters." By chance? I didn't think so. "Do you know their names?"

"I only know they're from Winston. I have to find them. I'm in their debt forever."

I took his hand, brought it to my lips and kissed his palm. "Good things started happening in the midst of all that chaos. Resolutions. Big and small positive changes. A trend that will continue, I'd say."

"Someone brought us peace, prosperity and balance," he said and gave me a long, lingering kiss.

A moment later we heard a double set of steps on the porch. Jack patted my butt and gave it a push.

WE LOOKED THROUGH THE WINDOW. Darius and Maggie. He opened the door for her since she carried a tray with three mugs in her hands. As soon as they stepped in, the rich aroma of fresh coffee filled the room.

"Look who I found in my house making coffee," Darius said. He took the tray from Maggie's hands and set it on the mantel.

Jack's eyebrows drew together. "Margaret Mohegan," he said in his best einhamir voice, "I'm very glad to see you because I have a question to ask. Would you kindly explain your presence here?"

"I've brought you coffee, Jack." She lifted herself on her toes and pecked her brother's cheek then bent and hugged me. "Hey, Astrid! Good to see you alive and well."

A tiny smile twinkled in Jack's eyes. " _Here_ in Copper Ridge, Maggie. If you think you can disobey my orders without consequences just because you're my sister, you are mistaken. You, your mother and your friend Peyton, all of whom I spotted here, you're all mistaken."

"Hold on, Jack," Maggie said. "You ordered us to, I quote, _stay_ with Astrid, right? We did _stay_ with her. You didn't specify the place."

Darius laughed. "She got you there, didn't she?" He had a hearty, resonant laugh that made him look much younger and happier.

Maggie smiled at him and offered him a cup. "Thank you, Darius. Here, have a coffee."

Their hands brushed, and they both jerked away as if they had touched a live wire instead of each other's skin. Darius dropped the cup, which broke and the coffee spilled on the floor. He and Maggie looked at each other.

Astounded as I was, I almost laughed at their matching thunderstruck expressions.

Jack's eyes moved back and forth from Darius to his sister. "Well, well. Life is full of surprises. Bond mates. Who would say?"

Darius took several deep breaths trying to regain composure. It didn't seem to be working.

Blood rushed into Maggie's head, coloring it bright red. "It's static electricity!"

Electricity. Sure. I suppressed a chuckle.

"I won't let a bond dictate my life!" Maggie snapped. "I'm not bonding material. I'm a very anti-bond... person!"

"Me too," Darius said, still dumbfounded. "And I still don't know..." He looked at me, pleading for help. "Didn't see the proof."

"Hold on, you two," I said, standing up. "I know you're shocked, but bonding can do that. You have to take it easy."

I placed my hand on Darius's upper arm and found his eyes. "Darius, about the proof I mentioned. It's not possible for you to inherit Seth's mental state. Jack will tell you why."

If Jack was surprised at my request, he didn't show it. "Er, yes. I couldn't tell you before, and I'm truly sorry. Morgaine wouldn't let us. Astrid tried to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Seth isn't your biological father. Your mother was a few weeks pregnant when she married Seth. Morgaine knew it all the time. Perhaps Seth too."

For the longest moment Darius stood motionless and expressionless, and then a hot rage lit his blue eyes as he gasped for air. For a brief second, I was sure he would unleash the fury of his wrath on Jack for keeping the truth from him, but that passed quickly. He moved his stunning blue gaze from Jack and looked at me.

I smiled and nodded, pushing back tears.

The last traces of doubt and anger slowly disappeared from Darius's face, only to be replaced with the untamed, pure joy of a man who'd received a pardon on his way to the gallows.

He'd gotten his life back, a full, sane and normal life. And Maggie.

His eyes locked with mine. "Who's my father, then? Do you know?"

I nodded. "His name is Raymond Arenvald. He disappeared before you were born. Nobody knows what happened to him, but we'll find out. We'll talk about that later."

"Later, yes," he repeated slowly and as if in a light trance, he turned to Maggie. "Now I need to have a word with you."

"I'm so happy for you, Darius," Maggie said, all her anger caused by the sudden bonding forgotten. "I can't imagine the nightmare you lived in for so long. Now you're free to live your life however you like." She turned to her brother. "It's your fault, Jack. Why didn't you tell him about his father before we brought in the coffee?" Then back to Darius. "I don't want you to feel trapped with the stupid bond. Let's pretend it didn't happen."

"We can't ignore it, and you know it," Darius said.

Maggie shook her head. "It's too sudden. Neither of us is ready for it."

"Neither was I," Jack interjected. "Yet here I am."

Darius took a step closer to his unexpected bond mate. "Well, I might be ready, Maggie. In fact, this bond, it's good."

"Good? How?"

"Because this isn't something I'm ready to ignore. I've been attracted—" Darius stopped and turned to Jack and me. "Can you two give us some privacy?"

Maggie stepped in front of him. "That day in Austin?" she said quietly, keeping her amber gaze on him.

Darius nodded.

Jack's eyebrows shot upward. "You two know each other from before? Would you mind explaining?"

Darius and Maggie ignored him. When he opened his mouth to say something, I shot him a warning look.

Darius's hand reached out and took Maggie's. "Austin, your freshman year. You were at that small café near the university, you sat there with another girl. I stopped to say hello, and we talked briefly. I felt something powerful. But you were James's daughter, and I was the son of his mortal enemy, and possibly an insane man."

Maggie smiled. "You were in a white polo shirt and jeans."

"You remember?"

"I do," she said softly. "Of course, I do."

I tugged at Jack's sleeve. "Let's go. We really have no business here."

"Well, okay. Darius, just a bit of advice before we leave. I like you fine, but this is my sister who you somehow happened to bond yourself to—"

I laughed. "Bonded himself to? What an interesting choice of words."

"Jack, stop it!" Maggie said. "I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself. Now leave us. Astrid, please take him out. This is crazy enough without Jack's two cents."

"Oh, I'm the least of your problems, little sister. Wait until James hears you're bonded and getting married."

Maggie shrieked, on the verge of tears. "Married? Who says I'm getting married? Are you insane?"

"Maybe you're not ready, but Darius just might be."

Darius's arm moved to Maggie's shoulder, rubbing it gently. "Don't listen to your brother," he said. "He and Astrid have been together for—how long, Jack? Almost a year?—and it doesn't seem we're going to hear wedding bells anytime soon. We're bonded, that part we can't control. But as for a wedding, don't worry about it, please. Okay?"

"Well, I've proposed, haven't I," Jack said crossing his arms over his chest. "It's up to Astrid now to set the date. And consider yourself lucky, Darius," he continued, still refusing to leave. "Maggie at least knows what bonding is. Astrid didn't have a clue. When I explained it to her, she was ready to flip her lid."

"Time to go, Jack," I said and pushed him toward the door. "I'm sure we can find ourselves a better job than chaperoning a newly bonded couple."

SOON I LEARNED ABOUT ANOTHER bond, my mother and Ahmed's. My mother was completely at a loss. Ahmed seemed composed, though, as if he knew something like this would happen. It explained not only his cryptic statement, but many other things, including the deep connection between Ahmed and me and his feeling of being in the right place.

And that was only the beginning of the bonding spree that had struck at least a dozen other couples within hours.

The next one also happened in front of my eyes: Takeshi and Gabby's daughter Miriam, a pretty redhead with green eyes.

I'd come to Gabby's house to check on my mother and Violet. They were both sleeping but their recovery was as expected. I kissed my mom's forehead, tucked the duvet around Peyton's mom, and went downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. Only to remember there was no power.

At least it was warm inside. The old-fashioned ceramic stove was hot, spreading warmth through the entire house.

In the kitchen, I found Eamon and Lily Falconer. Someone had sent them here to stay with the two convalescents because Miriam was needed somewhere else. I decided at this point not to investigate how these two had managed to appear in Copper Ridge before the battle was over.

At that moment Miriam came in from her room, carrying a pile of warm clothes for me: a flannel shirt, a warm jacket and thick thermal socks. Then Takeshi rushed into the house looking for Eamon and bumped into her, almost knocking her over.

The clothes flew everywhere. Takeshi grasped both Miriam's arms to steady her, and then, shocked, bounced back. Stunned, Miriam also retreated, and then both crouched down in a state of total confusion and started collecting the clothes.

"I didn't see that one coming," Takeshi murmured before he shook his head and ran out, leaving Miriam behind.

"I am oh-so-not touching any girl or woman here, young or old, married or single," Eamon said when stunned Miriam left, and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "This is insane. A celestial joke. Wherever you turn your head, you see couples bonding. It freaks me out. I'm not touching anyone, no handshaking, no introducing."

I tried hard to keep my face straight.

Eamon continued with his rant. "Look what happened to those people. They came out of the battle without a scratch and ended up hit directly in the heart by stupid Cupid's arrow."

"What's wrong with that?" Lily said with a shrug. She'd observed the bonding incident with her customary coolness. "They've found their true love. It's not important how and when. Besides, you could touch whoever you like. You're too young for bonding, Eamon Mohegan."

"How can you be sure? Since you know a lot about it, tell me then, what the minimum required age for bonding is?"

"Maturity, Eamon," Lily said. "So, you're safe."

"Ha-ha, very funny. I bet you wouldn't mind getting bonded."

"Well, I have the first requirement. Maturity."

"Well, I don't," Eamon said. "And I'm grateful for it."

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. He gave me a wary look but then relaxed. "All right, you can touch me. You're safe. You know what? I'm gonna help your grandmother. She's safe too."

"You sure Dr. Vandermeer isn't a potential bonding threat?" Lily asked.

Eamon ignored her and gently patted my bump. "Here's another girl I don't need to be scared of. How's my niece doing?"

"Fine," I smiled.

Eamon's eyes widened. "Hey, she just moved, didn't she? Isn't she too small for that?"

"She's just saying hello to her uncle," I said. "And she's quite advanced for her age."

He gave me a peck on the cheek. "Off I go to help Miz Ella. You should have a rest, mommy-to-be. I'll—"

Eamon stopped in the middle of the sentence as a commotion in the narrow driveway caught his attention. He walked to the window and parted the lace curtains. "Wow, two Mercedes. A black CL-600, and a C-350 red cutie. An F-150. They're not from Red Cliffs, and for sure not from here. A man is coming out of the black Mercedes, another one from the pickup, and a woman and a young girl from the C-350. Hmm. Are you expecting a foreign delegation, Astrid?"

Lily and I peered through the curtains.

Thanks to Jack's description, I had no trouble recognizing my primary visitor. "You could say that. This is Ellida Ariel of Winston," I said, taking in a tall, slender girl, with a rare and stunning combination of long, smooth, platinum hair and golden-brown eyes.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Astrid

I OPENED THE DOOR.

"They told me I'd find you here, Ellida Astrid," Ariel said in a resonant, young voice as she and her people walked in. She smiled and bowed slightly.

"Ellida Ariel," I said, bowing back. "I'm honored to see you. Thank you and Einhamir Bessim very much for sending your warriors to fight with us."

The fair girl inclined her head once more. "We've honored our alliance," she said in her stately, dignified voice. Then she smiled and her expression lightened. "I've heard our people fought well."

"They fought bravely. There are no casualties or serious injuries among them," I said, bemused by our ceremonial language and gestures. The alliance she'd mentioned must've been part of it, a metaphor, because I wasn't aware of any official affiliation between Red Cliffs and Winston. We were two friendly clans without much contact. After all, there were hundreds of miles of human territory between us. I accredited their military aid to the friendship between Jack's grandparents and Winston's einhamir and his wife. Was there more to that?

Even if there was, it wasn't the time to look for answers.

"I'm relieved to hear it," the young ellida said, her shoulders relaxing. She turned to her escorts. "Ellida, may I introduce you to my friends and my impromptu escorts. Einhamir Bessim didn't want me to travel on my own." She first motioned toward the tall, blond man at her left. "Azem Nimmani, Einhamir Bessim's son." Then she introduced the couple to her right as Jason and Harriet Killian.

"Nice to meet you all, and thank you for coming," I said as we shook hands. "Let me introduce you to my friend, Lily Falconer, and my cousin, Eamon Mohegan."

I couldn't help but smile at Eamon's stiff expression when it was his turn to shake hands with Ariel, whose honey-golden eyes, open and curious, smiled at him.

"I'm very glad to meet you, Eamon," she said.

Clearing his throat, Eamon lifted his eyes and met Ariel's gaze. He squared his broad shoulders and I couldn't help but notice what a handsome young man my cousin had become.

"The honor is mine, Ellida Ariel," he said. "Now if you would excuse me. I really need to go." And with that, he steered a wide path around Ariel and strode out of the kitchen.

Ariel's eyes followed him, adopting the same faraway expression I'd seen on Morgaine's face many times before. "It's a perfect match," the girl murmured and smiled before she shrugged and turned to the three Winstonians looking at her with amusement.

She shrugged and addressed her escort. "Azem, you and I are staying in Copper Ridge for a while. Jason and Harriet, you'll need to go back tonight, but in the meantime, see how you can help before you leave."

"I'm going to see our men," Azem said.

"Do that," Ariel said. "I'll come to see them a little bit later."

"Ellida Astrid," Azem said, "do you know where I can find them?"

"I'll take you to them," Lily said.

ONCE WE WERE ALONE, I asked Ariel about the werewolves who had saved my mother and me earlier that day. "I want to thank them," I said. "Who are they?"

For a moment Ariel kept her golden gaze on mine. "The bravest men I've ever known. They are meibion-y-clann. Long ago, Winston offered them sanctuary. They were gravely injured and they have yet to regain their human form."

Meibion-y-clann, "sons of the clan", the adopted members. Not honorary ones, like Takeshi's father, but true clansmen. Whoever they had been, now they belonged to the Winston clan. "What are their names?" I asked.

Ariel shook her head. "I'm sworn to protect their identity. They need to go back to Winston tonight. Einhamir Bessim needs them."

I knew better than to push her for more. "Then please express my deepest gratitude to them."

"I will. Now, let me ask you something. How old is your cousin?"

Well, that was a change of topic if ever there was one. "Seventeen. Why?"

"Ah, that explains it."

"There were several super-fast bonds here today," I said, puzzled. "Eamon's terrified he would end up bonded to someone before the end of the day. No reason for him to be worried, though. He's too young for bonding."

Ariel laughed softly. "Too young to feel it. There'll be more bonding here, for sure. I saw several pairs of perfectly fitting outlines. Those people are bond mates, some of them already bonded, some of them will be soon."

"You can see who's bonded and who will bond?" I said, confused. "I didn't know bonds can be _seen_."

"Some werewolves can see other people's auras, even though a solid barrier. I can see more—the auras of two bonded or to-be-bonded people. They're somehow highlighted and they separate themselves from the rest. They're brighter than others, they are of the exact same sizes regardless of the differences in their body size. They are a perfect match, always. Like yours and Jack's. Yours is bluish-red, like mine, because we're both a wizard and a werewolf. Jack's is crimson red, but they overlap one hundred percent."

"You see them all the time? Isn't it distracting?"

"Oh, I can switch it off, like those who are able to see the simple auras. Today I was deliberately checking for them. I often do that when I meet new people. You know," she lowered her voice, "I've been very curious who my bond mate would be—providing there was one—and where I would find him."

"It's natural to be curious." I would've been if I'd known more about the bond before I'd met Jack.

Ariel walked to the window and looked out, her gaze focused at some point in the distance. "Aha, there it is! Your mother and someone I don't know."

"Dr. Demir. But how do you know my mother?"

"There are only four people here with bluish-red auras, right? You, Ellida Morgaine, me and your mother. And this is not Ellida Morgaine's aura, I'm positive." She turned her head and arched her eyebrow. "Now _that's_ interesting," she said. "Eamon's parents."

I joined her beside the window and looked out as if I could see what she was seeing. Whatever it was, she was wrong. "They aren't bond mates," I said.

She chuckled. "Oh, but they are. They still don't feel it, but they will soon, in a day or two. See, sometimes bonding _develops_ , rather than _happens_ , and for sure it's never a random process."

"I've figured out that much. It's a gift, not a lottery draw. What about you? Has your curiosity been satisfied, then?"

She sighed and smiled. "It has. It's a big day for me. But tell me first about you. Every Ellida has a unique set of skills. Among other things, I can see bonding. What did you get?"

"I'm good in swordsmanship and archery, the human way. I can bring up my blaidd benywaidd, or rather, she comes when I need her."

"Really? I didn't know it's possible. What else?"

"Sometimes I see light and colors associated with a person or an event. It's about positive outcomes. It's random and it's rudimentary, only colors and light. I also _feel_ people but don't make me try to explain how."

"Oh, I understand. These are wonderful gifts."

"Can you tell me who your bond mate is?"

Ariel picked up a lock of her golden-silver hair and twisted it around her finger. She was still looking through the window. "His aura is blurry," she says, still looking through the window. "It still needs a year or so to firm up. But I felt it when I touched him. I'm older; I didn't expect that."

My jaw dropped. "Eamon?"

She nodded and let out a deep sigh, refocusing her eyes on me. "He's too young to understand it. Trust me, I'm shaken enough for both of us. Don't say a word to him, please."

"Of course not. Are you sure it's him?"

"Oh yes. His aura is a perfect match to mine."

"You said you felt it. A warm current spreading throughout your body, right?"

"That's how a bond is usually described. Yes, it was something like that, only in a very gentle form. I can't experience it fully until he's ready to feel it. Fortunately."

"How can you be so calm and composed?"

"I am not. I just can't afford to show how rattled I am."

"Are you going to be okay?"

Ariel lifted her shoulders in a delicate shrug. "Eventually. Ah, I should've listened to my mother and put flowers under my pillow on Midsummer's Eve to see my future husband in my dreams. To prepare myself for this."

"So, you accept it, just like this? No questions, no doubts?"

"Very early I learned not to question many things, including bonding. And I decided not to fight it if it ever happened to me. If Eamon Mohegan is going to be my husband one day—and he will—I know we'll love each other deeply. I'm not ready to get married. He might not be for years. I wouldn't want the bond to steal his best years from him. He needs to experience life. Perhaps I need it, too. But in due course, everything will fit together." She scratched her nose. "It's only that he's younger. I didn't expect that. Four years. It's not that much, is it? What do you think?"

It was irrelevant in our world, of course, but I guess self-consciousness and insecurity were universal to all people.

"Not at all," I said confidently. "He'll soon catch up with you anyway."

"He'll have relationships and heartbreaks because none of it would be right," she murmured.

"It's a part of becoming an adult," I said. "Everyone goes through it, but not everyone has a happy ending. He and you will."

"Yes," she said, smiling, "Now, how can I help here today?"

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Astrid

WITHIN THE HOURS AFTER THE battle, an airbridge between Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge was organized and medical supplies, food and clothes started pouring into Copper Ridge.

Ingmar, myself and two local doctors conducted a quick inventory of the small Copper Ridge Hospital, located in a crumbling old building. The offices and exam rooms were cold, furnished with sparse ancient furniture, but the equipment, although only essential, was in solid condition, and the supply cabinets and storage rooms were stocked with basic pharmaceuticals. The building was tidy and smelled clean, which spoke volumes about the medical personnel who worked there.

Ingmar told me the Copper Ridge children were healthy and well-nourished, and every single one had been immunized up to date. All thanks to financial help from Red Cliffs and Winston. My mother and her circle had organized a steady supply of food, clothes, vaccines and prescription drugs.

The involvement of the clan from the north had become more and more apparent. It was yet another puzzle. Why would Winston support the rebels of Copper Ridge? Had there been some conflict between Seth and Einhamir Bessim in the past that we weren't aware of?

When I asked Morgaine about it, she just smiled and brushed my cheeks. "Bessim Nimmani has his own reasons, I'm sure," she said, the tone of her voice indicating that it was the end of the talk. I'd gotten almost the identical answer from Ellida Ariel. Jack, James, Darius—they didn't have a clue. My mother did, but she was not talking.

Oh, well.

JACK, HIS GRANDFATHER, MY UNCLE, Darius and I, together with several Copper Ridge officials, checked Seth's underground vault. It was almost empty.

"How are we supposed to rebuild the town?" Darius said and rubbed his eyes. On the request of the Copper Ridge High Council, he'd become an acting einhamir until a new one was elected. "Half of it is destroyed or ruined. No schools, no infrastructure, no jobs."

"Red Cliffs will give you a boost, Darius," I said. "Winston, too. Ariel wants to talk to you about it."

"Red Cliffs and Winston have been helping us for years. We can't ask you to continue."

"Nonsense," Jack said. "You need our support more than ever. You have to start from scratch."

Darius rubbed his chin. "We found some interesting documents in Seth's safe. It looks like Seth had some geologists here recently. They found a rich silver vein at the bottom of the Great Orme. It's right under the surface, so it would be a clean and easy open-pit mining operation."

"Unless they faked the results to keep Seth happy," Jack said. "Find someone to do an independent evaluation. There are also a few old copper and gold mines worth checking."

I sat on one of the empty wooden chests to rest my back. "Remember that ski resort Seth wanted to build? It's a good idea. Red Cliffs will be interested in investing in it."

"That's right," Jack said. "And then, there are hot springs you have on your side and we don't. Winters are long here, but with those thermal springs, we can build year-round resorts, with spas, swimming pools and campgrounds."

"We'll need a better road between the towns," Darius said.

"I know. We'll talk about it," Jack said.

IN SETH'S PRIVATE SAFE, we found several different testimonials regarding the deaths of Jack's father and mine.

In the span of a few days, the same six men had signed four different confessions. The first said they acted upon direct orders from my mother, being rewarded with a significant sum of money from her. The second that they had planned the murder on their own, ambushing Brian and Hal in revenge for some old grudge. The third stated the ambushers had killed them on James's orders because he'd been in love with Eve. The latest and the newest "testimony" implicating Violet was such an obvious fake that it was laughable. The dates were wrong, some names misspelled, the paper and ink used for printing hadn't existed twenty-five years ago.

The blood drained from James's face and his hands were shaking when he read the "confession" implicating him. "Bloody bastard. I wish he could come alive so that I could kill him again. This time I'd take my time."

Jack placed his hand on my uncle's shoulder. "Come on, Dad. We need to talk to Rowena. Let's see if she's awake."

"You can see now that Seth used her for his own purposes," Jack's grandfather said.

"And I was stupid enough not to see it before."

"It's over, James," Robert said. "Let it go."

James turned to Robert. "You never believed Rowena was responsible for Hal and Brian's deaths. You either know far more than I do, or you are wiser than I am, Canagan."

Robert laughed aloud and slapped James's shoulder. "How about both, my friend."

I motioned toward the pile of fake confessions. "This is clear proof of her innocence, if you still need it, Uncle."

"I don't," my uncle said. "My anger and pain didn't let me see the truth. Until you came. You made me look deep into my soul and find the truth there. But this!" He grabbed one of the testimonies with his shaking hand. "To say that I wanted to kill my best friend to take his wife. That was what he wanted people to believe. God."

"Rowena needs to hear this from you, Father. Let's see if she's awake."

Darius and I decided to make all the confessions public documents so that nobody could blame innocent people anymore.

THAT AFTERNOON, IN THE WARM, well-lit living room of Gabby's house, my mother, James and Eve had once more become friends.

Many wounds had healed.

Some of the old injustices righted.

A few secrets revealed.

And some other secrets, well, for them it still wasn't time.

The most important truth, however, had been unveiled: my mother was innocent. She'd been cleared of any wrongdoing. Also, the nature of her and Violet's relationship had become clear.

Violet Kincaid had been my mother's principal connection with the outside world. Violet's Copper Ridge relatives had provided her with a reason to come here often. Her travel agency as well as her ability to change into "Iris" were the perfect cover for her frequent trips to Europe whenever my mother had to contact Darius or Morgaine. The money for Copper Ridge had come through her agency as well.

Seth's human hirelings had done a great job for him, as we learned, most of all because no one had expected him to use them. They had freely gone in and out of Red Cliffs disguised as tourists. They'd been told to report back everything they'd seen and heard, no matter how small or unimportant information seemed. This surveillance had lasted for more than a year.

But that had been only the tip of the iceberg. Seth had been using humans to spy on me for years. Not all the time, rather on and off. They couldn't find out much—most of the time I'd been protected by our Talsyns. But Seth hadn't been a stupid man. And he was patient. He'd asked them to monitor my surroundings. It hadn't taken them long to notice the anomalies in my work schedule, the periods of absence, at first irregular, then monthly. Seth had quickly realized the reason for them—my transformations, the definitive proof that I was an ellida. It wasn't long before he'd figured out yet another big secret—that I had troubles with shifting. He'd sent his men to kidnap me during one of my changes, when I was weakest.

They failed because they had made a mistake—they underestimated me. They didn't know I could translocate.

Instead of going to Red Cliffs, which Seth had expected me to do after the failed kidnapping, I'd disappeared.

It was Franco Lascaris, the man who'd planned and led the attack on Jack and me last year, who tracked me down in Rosenthal. What Ingmar had discovered incidentally, recognizing my surgical work, Franco Lascaris had done after months of hacking the medical records of all the Pacific Northwest hospitals. He'd suspected I wouldn't have moved too far away from Ella and Gottfried.

Franco found me in Rosenthal. He was smart enough not to come close. The humans had done the job again, filling him in on the random details.

Fortunately, being humans, and therefore unaware of who was who in our world, they didn't recognize the Blakes and never made a connection between me and my Tel-Urugh guards. In the meantime, while Franco had plotted how to take me, Seth had sent his decoys to "look" for me in Texas, to throw my mother from Lascaris's tracks. Clever, I had to admit.

It was the way Seth had operated. He'd known about the resistance movement; he had known my mother was part of it. Instead of crushing them, however, he'd played with them. My mother had figured it out, so she started playing the same nerve-wracking game by planting evidence, distracting Seth, making him send his men on a wild goose chase, controlling how much he knew.

Sometimes he outplayed her. He was able to keep Franco Lascaris's presence in Copper Ridge secret until it was almost too late. By pure chance, Violet caught a glimpse of him and raised the alarm that would bring Liv and Tristan to the forest just in time to save Jack and me.

Other times, she outplayed him. Seth never learned the Copper Ridge police forces were against him. Or about the magnitude of the financial support Copper Ridge had been receiving for years. She was able to protect Darius and many others. Up until the end, Seth didn't know about Violet and he believed she and my mother hated each other. And yes, knowing how strong my mother was, he was wary of her. She'd become a powerful enemy. For years he wanted her to leave—and she certainly could have—but she refused.

He could've killed her. I didn't doubt it. He hadn't, most likely because he knew my mother's death would cause a riot in Copper Ridge he wouldn't be able to survive.

At the end of the day, he hadn't survived anyway. He was the past that everyone would soon get over. My mother was the victor, the hero, the survivor, the Copper Ridge symbol of strength and hope.

THANKS TO LIV'S INTERROGATING METHODS, the identity of Seth's key-man had been revealed. It turned out to be the key-woman: Eugenia Lascaris, Franco's sister.

She was a powerful Tel-Urugh, I'd learn. Not as powerful as Liv, but close. In any case, more powerful than her brother. She was capable of messing with scents, creating super-strong Talsyns, controlling a bunch of her rogue kinsmen and blaidds. She was one of the very few Tel-Urughs who could change her appearance on the spot, her scent, her voice.

No one thought about her. Eugenia had always kept a low profile, hadn't been close to her brother, just the opposite, it seemed that she despised him. Unlike Franco, she hadn't taken part in the war with the Usurper.

When I told Darius that she could've been forced to work for Seth, he just rolled his eyes and told me that sometimes it was better and safer to assume the worst than the best.

My suspicion was that she hadn't been the only one with advanced magic skills on Seth's payroll. We might never know. Dozens of Seth's hirelings had fled before we had a chance to talk to them, Eugenia among them. Some had died in the battle. The rest didn't seem to know much.

As for Seth's humans, once we were sure they hadn't committed serious crimes, Livia and Ahmed modified their already murky and unreliable memories, and let them go.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Astrid

THE SAME EVENING, MORGAINE and Violet asked to talk to me in private. We met in Violet's sick room since she was still in bed, recovering.

"I know you disapproved that I kept Darius in the dark regarding his father," Morgaine started.

"I did," I said. "I thought it was unnecessary."

"Perhaps. But maybe I can do something to make it right. I have reason to believe his father might be alive."

My breath caught. "Really?"

"I'm not sure one hundred percent. In any case, if it's him, his mind has been wiped clean. But maybe I can restore his memories. Violet and I will go."

I looked up at Violet with a raised eyebrow.

She cleared her throat. "I want to leave Red Cliffs for a while. I need it. I'll help Ellida Morgaine to search for Raymond Arenvald."

"We will take his DNA sample," Morgaine said, "so that we can have it compared."

"Against what?"

Against Darius's, as it turned out, which she had already obtained. Without his consent.

"There are some other loose ends to tie," Ellida Morgaine added.

"And you can't tell me what they are?"

"No, I cannot," she said without hesitation. "This time, it's against my wishes, if that means anything to you. Unfortunately, I'm bound by my word to keep them secret. I'll tell you only this: you'll hear more good news, and soon."

I nodded. As if I had a choice. "Don't tell Darius anything before we know the truth about his father." I sat on Violet's bed and took her hands in mine. "Take care, Violet. And thank you for everything."

Violet's eyes welled with tears. "How could anyone believe I hated you? You're Hal's daughter."

"You loved him," I said softly, and it wasn't a question.

Violet smiled. "I always have and I always will. And you, you're his daughter. His blood is in your veins. In a way, you're mine, too."

I hugged her. "That I am. Your daughter is not only my friend; she is the sister I've never had. Don't stay away too long. You and I have a friendship to develop."

THE DAY ENDED IN THE most spectacular manner.

We were all still at Darius's—my mother, Violet, Ahmed, Jack, his parents, our grandparents, the Blakes, myself—recovering from the emotional overcharge of the last few hours, when the door burst open and Ingmar rushed in followed by Peyton and his parents.

He marched straight to Violet, resting on the sofa. She felt much better, but she wasn't completely recovered.

"They told me I'd find you here." He moved his eyes to my mother. "Rowena, nice to see you. I don't know if you remember me. I'm Ingmar Mortensen, Astrid's friend. And this is Peyton, my fiancée."

Fiancée?

"I do remember you, Ingmar," my mother said. "It's good to see you again. Hello, Peyton. I'm happy to see you, too."

"Hello, Ms. Vandermeer." Peyton paused.

"Just Rowena."

Ingmar turned his attention to Violet. "Ma'am, I'm asking you for permission to marry your daughter."

"What! When?" several of us said at the same time.

"Tonight."

A BORROWED WHITE GOWN AND shoes for the bride, a lovely bouquet of ivory white roses for which Maggie had flown to Red Cliffs. Four tables of different sizes and heights pushed together in Gabby's living room, Gabby's heirloom crystal glasses, porcelain plates and damask tablecloths, the trays with bite-size sandwiches. A small wedding cake decorated with fresh flowers that miraculously arrived just before the ceremony. The champagne, kept on the porch for a while to chill, the light of dozens of candles since the house was still without electrical power. The beautiful, radiant auburn-haired bride, and the handsome blond groom in Darius's black suit and white shirt. It was the most romantic wedding indeed.

Darius, the highest-ranking official in Copper Ridge, wedded Peyton and Ingmar.

Just before dawn, a rocket-propelled fireworks display lit the skies in celebration of the new beginning, not just for Peyton and Ingmar, but for all of Copper Ridge. For more than thirty minutes the night erupted with colors and shapes, noise and smoke.

THE NEXT MORNING, COPPER RIDGE'S citizens continued with rebuilding their town and their lives.

The Tel-Urughs that had come to fight with us stayed for a few more days, as well as our friends from Winston.

Adam Mackenzie was also getting ready to leave.

"Do you really have to go?" I asked. I liked Jack's good-humored, easygoing friend. "We're going back to Red Cliffs in a couple of days. Why don't you stay with us over the holidays?"

"I got a new assignment. But ye know what? I think I'm done with special missions. My partner quit and my job isna half fun without him. So, I'm keeping my eye on a small, quiet mountain town wi' pretty lasses and fine ski runs. If the ellida of such a place gives me permission, I'll be happy to settle there."

I laughed and hugged him "Permission granted!"

One of the crucial issues was the election of the new einhamir. Copper Ridge needed a leader as soon as possible, yet none of their nine captains seemed to possess the charisma. Darius and Rowena were Copper Ridge's true leaders. He didn't want to be an einhamir, while she was prevented by her gender.

Ahmed thought otherwise. "There is one person among you who's more than capable of being the einhamir," I'd said to the council after their third, unsuccessful vote for a new leader. "Rowena."

The council was so stunned, Darius told me later, that for the longest moment nobody said a word. He wasn't surprised, since Ahmed had told him about his idea. Darius had supported it with his whole heart.

"Think about her role all these years and what she's done for Copper Ridge," Ahmed continued. "She's been your true leader for more than twenty years. She could've left, but she didn't. It was Rowena and Darius who kept this town together and organized the coup. He doesn't want to be einhamir. He's never wanted it. And that's fine. Rowena's going to be the greatest leader you've ever had."

One of the council members mentioned that never in gwerin y blaidd history had a woman been elected for that position.

"True, but there's a first time for everything.," Ahmed said. "Be first, and take pride in it. Rowena's your best choice, you all know it."

"Will she consider it?" someone else asked. "I don't think she seeks that kind of power."

"Why don't we ask her?" Ahmed said. "You know I'm Rowena's bond mate. I'll help her. And she has you."

After a short debate, the Copper Ridge Council decided to offer my mother the position of the clan's einhamir.

Rowena Vandermeer, an asanni by birth and a blaidd benywaidd by choice, had become the first alpha female leader in our history.

_Einhamir-benywaidd,_ or _einhamiress._ Our vocabulary became richer by two new words.

But that hadn't been the only precedent—Ahmed had become Copper Ridge's mab-y-clann, their first adopted clan member ever.

BACK HOME, LESS THAN TWO weeks after the battle with Seth's forces, in front of the entire town, Henry Radford had been presented with our highest military recognition—the Sword of Bravery. The inscription, "Honor Is My Shield, Truth Is My Sword", was engraved on its blade in Old Language. Henry had become the youngest laureate ever.

The council had suggested forging a sword appropriate for Henry's size, but I disagreed. He'd been courageous beyond his age; he deserved the full-sized sword. It was bigger than him, but Henry didn't mind it at all.

RED CLIFFS CONTINUED TO SUPPORT Copper Ridge, helping them to rebuild their homes, buildings and infrastructure, including a new, fast road between the two towns, just for us. It'd be made invisible to commoners by the combined wizard and werewolf Talsyns.

There were some demographic movements as well. Since my mother was the Copper Ridge leader, it was natural that Ahmed change his residency as well. He became the CEO of their hospital. He and my mother bought a house, had it renovated and moved in together.

It was a spacious dwelling that had belonged to one of Seth's high-ranked officials. There were plenty of such houses, all abandoned now. The Copper Ridge High Council had decided to sell those properties that now didn't belong to anyone and use the money to rebuild the city.

The problem was that few people in Copper Ridge had money to buy the essentials, let alone houses and land. Nonetheless, a few houses had been sold: aside from Mom and Ahmed, Ingmar and Peyton, who decided to settle there rather than in Red Cliffs, had also bought one, as well as my grandparents and several other people.

Ahmed had a cousin in England, Khalid Nouri was his name, a wealthy land developer. He was recovering from an accident that had left him in a wheelchair. Ahmed had convinced him to purchase the biggest and most expensive estate in Copper Ridge. It had a charming Queen Anne house situated on a hill. His arrival would be postponed until he recuperated completely, but Ahmed said he expected to see his cousin soon.

Ahmed, Jack and I financed the repair of all of Copper Ridge's homes that were in poor shape or had been damaged during the battle, in other words, almost all of the Copper Ridge households. My grandparents and Ingmar paid for the renovation of the hospital. Livia and Tristan had Seth's Castle restored, and among other tenants, a music school, a ballet academy and a martial arts school had their space there. Takeshi also moved to Copper Ridge, to run the martial arts school and, of course, to be close to Miriam.

Many men and women from Copper Ridge got jobs in Red Cliffs.

My uncle and his fishing buddies, Dr. Gerd Falkenstein and the Herzog brothers (the owners of the Watchman) had given the most imaginative gift to the Copper Ridge children: a week in Disneyland for every child and his or her parents.

Chapter Seventy

Astrid

IT WAS A COLD AND snowy late afternoon. I was at home with our visitor from Rosenthal, Charlotte Fontaine. Jack was in his office at City Hall. I expected him to return at any moment.

Lily's background check had revealed the truth about our guest. We first thought she was a _vardanni_ , "a guardian of the realm", a rare human from whom we couldn't hide. If they came in contact with us, they saw us for what we were. Our Talsyns and tallins, our magic, our tricks—nothing worked on them, nor could we alter or erase their memory. As a rule, they were exceptional beings, as they should be—they were keepers of our greatest secrets.

But, it turned out that the energetic, feisty widow of the beloved Rosenthal mayor wasn't a vardanni, but gwerin, one of "our" humans, connected to our world indirectly, through her adopted son, David.

David had been the orphaned child of Charlotte's late husband's distant relative. Charlotte and Lucien had adopted him when he was a small boy. He was a half-blaidd, a fact that Lucien, a human with traces of werewolf blood, had been aware of.

Lucien and Lottie had kept David away from us, gwerin y blaidd. His parents had died in suspicious circumstances and his adopted parents hadn't been sure who they could trust so they'd decided not to trust anyone. Even if they had wanted to make a contact, they wouldn't have known where to look for us.

David was a teenager when Lucien died, in his late seventies. At least according to the official documents, but in fact, he'd been much older. A little werewolf blood in his veins couldn't make him a blaidd, but it had given him longevity and a youthful look. Even Lottie, a human, had been aging slower because of Lucien and David's proximities.

Wise and considerate, Charlotte knew that David had to establish a connection with his werewolf kin. He belonged to our world as much as the humans'. When she almost lost all her hope, a strange twist of fate had brought Ahmed to Rosenthal. She'd recognized him by his scent, which David also had. It was in vain, she'd soon realized—not unlike David, Ahmed had lived outside the werewolf society. After Ahmed, I'd come, another werewolf, albeit only a half, which Lottie hadn't known anyway, but also without obvious ties to any clan. And running away from someone at that, which was apparent to clever Mrs. Fontaine.

She hadn't been aware I was an asanni as well, nor who Tristan and Liv were; She hadn't known Tel-Urughs and wizards even existed. She only knew the Blakes were neither human nor wolf-folk and that made her even more cautious.

Jack's arrival had finally given her true hope. She liked him instantly and felt she could trust him completely. He wasn't a loner, he wasn't in hiding, he belonged to a clan. The fact that Ahmed, who she also adored, had joined us in Red Cliffs had only cemented her decision.

Shortly after we'd left, Lottie decided to come out, sort of. She contacted Jack a few weeks before, saying she had to talk to him about her son. Without any preamble, she said she wanted to secure David's future place among his own kind. The clans that Jack and Ahmed belonged to would be good and safe for her son.

Jack and I would've visited her right away, but I was pregnant and I wasn't supposed to leave our territory and the protection of my clan—a tradition I'd decided to observe. Instead, we invited her to visit us.

There was another, more intimate reason to stay in touch with us. She missed us all, even the Blakes. Our departure had left a big empty space in her life.

Not to mention she'd been dying to meet the woman who'd stolen Ahmed's heart. It turned out that not only had Mom gotten Lottie's approval, but she and Lottie had clicked right away.

We too had obligations toward her—she was gwerin living outside our territory. It was our duty to protect her as well as David. And we truly liked her.

LOTTIE WAS SITTING BESIDE THE fireplace crocheting a white and pink baby blanket for Rosie and I was checking some online catalog for ideas for the nursery when we heard two cars approaching the house, neither of them Jack's truck. We looked at each other, then I stood up and peered through the window. Mike Dalton's cruiser pulled into our driveway, followed by a navy-blue sedan at least fifteen years old.

Behind the wheel sat a tall dark-haired and very beautiful woman in her late twenties. A delicate blonde of a similar age was in the passenger seat. Mike opened their doors, helped them out and escorted them to the house.

I swung the door open before Mike could ring the bell. Lottie was at my heels.

Mike touched the brim of his black Stetson. "Evenin', Astrid. Ma'am," he greeted us in his deep, southern drawl. "The ladies here are lookin' for Liv and Tristan, but the Blakes are out of town, I'm 'fraid. I spoke to Jack and he told me to bring them here."

I stepped aside and let them in. "Of course. Please come in. It's freezing outside."

The pretty, willowy blonde introduced herself as Lydia Watson. I recognized the name. She was Darius's ex-girlfriend from Scotland.

The other woman was Lani Blackwell.

She was stunning: tall, elegant, curved in all the right places. With her thick, rich auburn hair, high forehead and cheekbones, beautiful eyes the color of whiskey, flawless skin, plump lips and elegant, narrow nose, she looked classy, sexy and alluring.

And as if her appearance wasn't sensual enough, a small flat beauty mark adorned the top of her left cheekbone.

I could understand why Jack had been attracted to her: Lani Blackwell was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.

I glanced at the fair, petite Lydia. She was bone-tired and shivery. Lani, on the contrary, didn't seem affected by the long drive and cold weather.

"The heater broke hours ago," Lani said casting a worried glance toward her friend. "In the middle of nowhere."

Lani apologized for disturbing me, and, glancing toward Mike, asked if she and I could talk in private.

Mike didn't budge. Leaning against the kitchen cabinets, his arms crossed over his chest, he kept his eyes on the two women and remained in my vicinity.

"Lydia, please sit closer to the fireplace, you're shaking," I said. "Lottie, would you mind making a pot of tea? Mike, have a seat." I turned to Lani. "Let's go to my office."

Mike took a step closer. "Why don't we wait for Jack? He's on his way."

I gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. Lani's Jack and Liv's friend and Lydia knows my brother well."

Lydia's periwinkle-blue eyes widened. "I don't think I know your brother."

"Darius is my brother."

"Oh, I didn't know he had a sister," she said even more confused.

"Stepsister, in fact. Well, sort of. It's a long story." I smiled. "You'll hear it one day."

"GOD, I DON'T KNOW WHERE to start," Lani said when we entered my office. "I hoped to see Livia first."

I closed the door behind us and motioned toward my desk chair. "Please have a seat."

"You know who I am. I guess you also know what happened to me last spring," Lani said, lowering herself graciously on the chair.

I sat across from her, my compact computer desk between us. I closed my laptop and pushed it aside. "I know."

She shifted in her chair then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "When Jack and I ... When we..." She paused and looked at me as if looking for help.

"When you and Jake dated?" I offered.

"Er, yes." She blushed ever so slightly. "Back then, Livia didn't like me much. I don't know if she told you that."

"She did. But she changed her opinion. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have given you her own blood."

"Her trust means the world to me." Once more, her fingers raked through her hair, from the left corner of the forehead to behind her ear. An unconscious gesture—her hair was perfect. But she was a bit nervous. "Until I met Livia, and the other doctor, Ingmar Mortensen, I didn't know about you. The Langaer. Liv says that's the name for all of you. All of us, I mean. I didn't know that Jack was any different from me."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"It took me a while to accept it," she said, placing her hands on the desk. Elegant, beautiful hands with long fingers and short, manicured nails. No nail polish. "But now I'm content with who I've become. Well, most of the time, at least. After I recovered, Livia and I stayed in contact. She helped me to deal not only with the change but also with everything that happened before I ended up in the hospital, almost dead—emotional and physical abuse, loss of self-confidence and respect, loneliness. I'm fine physically. Emotionally—less so."

"It takes longer for those wounds to heal," I said, thinking of my mother. How long would it take her to recover from twenty-odd years of Seth's abuse, threats and humiliation?

"I still need her help. There're too many changes in my life."

"I'm glad you decided to come. You should not go through it alone. We'll help you to adapt."

"Can Lydia and I stay here or in Copper Ridge? At least for a while? I understand that we need permission to settle here. From you? Liv told me who you are."

I leaned forward and placed my hands over Lani's. Her skin was smooth and warmer than mine, an unmistakable sign of her kind. "You have it," I said. "You're welcome to settle here permanently. If you decide to live in Copper Ridge, my mother will grant it for both of you. She's Copper Ridge's leader."

She swallowed. "Thank you, er, Ellida."

"Call me Astrid, please."

"When are Livia and Tristan coming back?" she asked. "I mentioned to Liv I might come, but I didn't say when. I should've called her first."

"In a couple of days. They're in Sicily; they have a villa near Palermo. You'll stay with us until they return."

"Don't let us disturb you, please," Lani said. "We can stay in a hotel."

I shook my head and smiled. "Hotels are for tourists; friends stay with friends."

Lani swallowed. "Thank you. This means the world to me."

As her acceptance did to me. I really liked Jack's ex-girlfriend. "Now tell me something else," I said, glad the matter of Lani and her friend's accommodation was settled. "Does Lydia know Darius is engaged to Jack's sister?"

Lani confirmed it with a quick nod. "She knows. She isn't in love with him anymore and there are no hard feelings. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come." She paused. "He must be away, too, since Lydia couldn't get a hold of him."

"Yes. He and Maggie are in Malta on some family business. How did you and Lydia meet?"

"By coincidence. Or not; I don't know. Perhaps people who are somehow connected to this world are drawn to each other. Lydia's from Scotland; I don't know if you know that. Her parents died in a car accident two years ago. She was the only child, and her only relative was an old aunt in San Francisco, who died in October. She left Lydia a small house and some money. Lydia decided to move to the States. Long story short, I used to go for lunch at an eatery near the hospital where I worked. Lydia was a waitress there since she couldn't find a job as a music teacher. We became friends."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"She mentioned once she'd had a boyfriend back in Scotland, who was from a small town in Colorado, Copper Ridge. I remembered Jack talking about that place being the closest to his hometown, Red Cliffs. I knew Livia and Tristan moved here. Then Lydia lost her job and the money she inherited started melting away quickly. She didn't have any relatives or friends except me. She contacted Darius. It's not a secret," she added quickly even though I didn't find it strange. "Maggie, his fiancée, knows about it. He told her to come here. He said Copper Ridge needs music teachers. She was hesitant, you can understand that. I'd already decided to see Liv, so I convinced Lydia to join me."

"I'm glad you did."

"I couldn't leave her there. She's sort of my family now."

I smiled. "Welcome to Red Cliffs, then, both of you." I stood up. "Come now. You two have to eat something. I have beef barley soup in the fridge. You'll feel better with some food in your bellies." I looked up at her. "I trust you're nourished otherwise. If not, I know where Tristan and Liv keep their supply of blood."

Lani smiled, then blinked, then smiled again. "You talk so naturally about it. To me, it's still quite bizarre. Yes, I'm fine for the next week or so."

I touched her upper arm. "In our world, it's natural."

When we returned to the living room, Lydia sat tucked in the armchair in front of the fireplace. Wrapped in a thick sofa throw, she held a steamy cup of tea in her hands. Mike sat beside her. For some reason, they looked like a couple.

Lottie was in the kitchen, working on an impromptu lunch for our guests.

Lani was right, I thought, smiling to myself. Was it a coincidence that the two women had met, become friends and come here? Nah. Coincidences didn't happen in our world.

LANI AND LYDIA STAYED WITH us for a while but eventually decided to settle in Copper Ridge. Lydia accepted a job as a music teacher and a part-time librarian and Lani started working as a neonatal nurse and a part of my grandmother's pediatric team. Ahmed found her to be hardworking and reliable.

Lydia and Mike Dalton started dating. Lani seemed content with her single life. "No wonder," my mother said. "She was an abused woman. Her wounds might not be bleeding, but the scars are still fresh. She'll need to learn how to trust men again. But she'll be fine."

Everything my mother had said related to her as well. She understood Lani better than anyone. I wasn't surprised when the two of them became close friends.

There were happy endings and new beginnings everywhere. It was just right. We all deserved them.

Chapter Seventy-One

Astrid

I PARTED THE CURTAINS and glanced through the window. The sun was setting, painting the world in glorious pink, gold and orange hues.

Jack had gone to Copper Ridge that morning, but I expected him back any moment.

Rosie was sleeping in her living room crib. According to Jack's parenting theory, somebody always had to be in the room with her so that she could hear, smell and feel us as soon as she was awake. As a result, she ended up having four cribs. One was in the nursery room, which hadn't been in use at all because she didn't sleep there; the second one in our bedroom, although she preferred sleeping in our bed with us (and we let her). The only crib she occasionally tolerated was the one in the living room, although she was happier sleeping sprawled across somebody's chest. The crib at her grandparents' house served for decorative purposes only. Grandpa James wouldn't let her out of his arms, sleeping or awake.

I walked to the crib and looked at her, suppressing an urge to take her in my arms. My eyes got misty and my chest swelled with emotions. I brushed a soft, silky lock away from her forehead.

"You look so much like your daddy," I whispered, breathing in her sweet baby scent.

As if she could hear me, Rosie stirred, opened her eyes and lifted her little arms.

I took her out of the crib and gently pressed her against my breasts. Together we sat in the nursery chair, an old and beautiful piece Jack's father had made for Eve when Jack was born.

For a while, we just gently rocked back and forth, back and forth.

Rosie made a soft baby sound and looked at me with her eyes, already amberish instead of the dark blue color she'd been born with. She turned her head toward my breast and opened the sweet button of her mouth.

"Oh, we're hungry, huh?"

I unbuttoned my shirt and unclasped the nursing bra, guiding my nipple to Rosie's open mouth. She latched onto it and started sucking, relieving the painful pressure in my breast. I stroked her silky cheeks, singing an old song to her. Rosie liked when we sang to her.

When she was done with both sides, I held her upward until she burped, then changed her soaked diaper.

We sat back in the rocking chair, and I sang her a lullaby in our ancient wizard tongue.

" _Sleep, my little baby,"_ the song went, _"dream a sweet dream. A star will come to kiss you with its tender gleam._

MY PHONE HUMMED

Rosie, who'd almost fallen asleep, turned her head toward the source of the sound and, looking at me with her eyes wide open, smiled. The ringtone for Jack's call was unique—the beginning of Leonard Cohen's _I'm Your Man_ —and I could swear Rosie recognized it.

"Yes, it's your dad, Rosie," I said to my daughter and kissed her nose. Then to Jack, "Hello, gorgeous."

"Hey, baby. I'm in Red Cliffs, but I need to stop by my office. I'll be home in an hour or so."

"Did you see my mom?"

"Briefly. She's busy. Ahmed too, but they're coming tomorrow afternoon to see Rosie."

"How are Lydia and Lani doing? Are they coming as well?"

"Yes. They're good. Lani was working. I haven't talked to her, but I saw Ella. Lani's coming with your grandparents tomorrow. Lydia already has eighteen students. And she and Mike are getting serious, according to your grandmother."

"He's been smitten with her from the beginning. You might soon be looking for a new sheriff."

"Yeah, I figured that out myself. That's fine. Adam says he doesn't mind taking over."

"Yay! When did you talk to him?"

"An hour ago. He'll be here next week. How's my little cub?"

"I've just fed her and now she's resting on my breasts."

Jack's voice dropped to a whisper when he said, "Maybe later I could rest there. Rosie doesn't mind if we share."

Desire coiled in my womb, warmth spread inside my thighs. "Hmm. Maybe you can do more than that. I had my six-week postpartum checkup today. My O.B. said I could resume my intimate life."

I heard a sharp intake of breath. "Really?" he whispered.

"Really."

"I'll be back in half an hour then."

"Oh, but you said you had something to do at work?"

"I know how to set my priorities, love. I love you, you two."

"We love you, too."

The line disconnected and silence returned to the room. Rosie's eyelids grew heavy; her breathing deep and relaxed.

I waited for a while, to make sure she was fast asleep, and then slowly stood up and walked to her crib.

It didn't work. Before her head touched the mattress, she opened her eyes and let out an angry cry. I picked her up and the wailing stopped.

"I don't like it, young lady, you know," I said, cradling her in my arms, "but I understand it's not your fault." I kissed her little nose, chin, forehead and cheeks. "Your father and grandpa James are the ones to be blamed. And some others as well. Now, while we wait for Daddy to come home, I'll tell the story about the day you were born."

ROSIE WAS BORN ON THE last day of March. I'd been feeling funny all day, having lower back pain and irregular Braxton Hicks contractions that varied in length and intensity. I knew I was close to labor, but not _that_ close.

As Jack and I were getting ready for bed, a sharp pain slashed across my back and moved around to the front in a wave. I waited. Six minutes passed and another powerful contraction tightened my abdomen, took my breath away.

Jack was taking a shower, singing aloud.

"Jack!" I yelled, "Better hurry up. I think it's time!"

"Time for what?" I heard him. "Why are you yelling?"

At that moment my water broke.

"I'm in labor—"

"What do you mean you are in labor? You were okay ten minutes ago... Oh, my God!"

He materialized in front of me, traces of shampoo foam still in his hair. The water was dripping from his body, forming a pool around his legs almost as big as the one from my ruptured amniotic sac. His face was bloodless.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I said before another contraction made me grab the bedpost and sit down. "Our baby's coming fast, Jack. I need to go to the hospital right now. Call Tristan!"

By the time we reached the clinic, our Red Cliffs family was already there. "Your mother and Ahmed are coming in about one hour. Can you hold on for a bit?" Uncle James asked.

"I'll do my best," I said, and chuckled, in spite of the pain.

As the labor progressed, I could hear more and more familiar voices: Mom, Ella, Peyton. Ahmed was talking to Livia and Ingmar, Mike Dalton stopped by to check on my progress, Eamon had Maggie and Darius on Skype on his tablet. The two of them had married last month, but instead of a honeymoon in Spain, the newlyweds had rushed to Malta to meet—and bring to Copper Ridge—Darius's long-lost father. A lone blaidd whose most treasured memories, those of Darius's mother and the baby they had made together, had been brutally erased. It was Violet and Morgaine that had found him, with Lily's help. His DNA had confirmed what they had already known—Raymond Arenvald was Darius's father. Morgaine, fortunately, had been able to restore some of Raymond's memories. The rest was slowly coming back by itself.

Morgaine. I missed her, even her secrecy and her sometimes uncompromising and insensitive ways of dealing with things. But there were still many loose ends to tie, all of them, including my fellow ellida, I knew she'd be back soon.

I missed Violet, too. She had gone to Winston soon after she'd recovered and she'd been there since then. Her abrupt leave and long stay were yet another mystery. She was coming back soon, though, because Peyton was pregnant and Violet wanted to be close to her daughter.

My heart swelled with love for that wonderful bunch, present and absent, that I had the privilege to call my family and friends.

Someone else was there with me. Louise wouldn't miss the chance, of course. She cheered me up, helped me through the worst. She'd always been stronger, taking over when I couldn't cope anymore. This time, too. It seemed that she'd absorbed a great deal of my pain although I couldn't explain how she'd done that.

But that was what she was—my brave and clever blaidd benywaidd.

Jack, always strong, always loyal, hadn't left my side, but there had been moments when he seemed in greater need of help and support than I.

And then, everything was over in minutes.

" _Rosie's almost here, just keep pushing,"_ Louise said at one moment. Jack, pale and sort of lost, stood by my side and held my hand.

I let out a moan, deep and painful.

Tristan peeked under the cover. "Rosie's coming," he said with a wide grin. He grabbed a wheeled stool, set it at the foot of the bed and asked Jack to sit on it.

A few moments later, Rosalie Ellaria Canagan plopped out of my womb and into her father's cradled hands.

Deep inside me, I heard my wolf's happy howl.

MY DAUGHTER'S TINY EYELIDS GREW havier and heavier.

"The next day, Daddy and I brought you home," I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Grandpa James threw a _very_ big party. Many people came to see you and wish you a good life and happiness. And we saw the two mysterious blaidds from Winston. They came all the way from there to honor your birth. All night long they could be seen standing on the highest peak of Red Cliff Mountain, jumping and howling at the moon. We still don't know who they are, but they're somehow connected to us. We'll know soon. Because you know what? In our world, things don't happen without reasons."

ROSIE'S BIRTH WAS THE HAPPY conclusion of a journey that had started one evening over fifteen months before when Jack and I had met and fallen in love with each other.

Jack had shown me the power of unconditional love. Thanks to that, everything else that followed became possible: to leave behind the only life I'd known and come here to become the clan's ellida. I'd learned how to embrace my wolf. I'd found my mother and her love. We'd fought with Seth and won the battle. I'd found my best friend and fulfilled my dream to be a singer.

I might never sing the Queen of the Night role in an opera house, but I was the queen of Jack's heart. Besides, I _was_ a star: I had my band, my own stage and an audience that adored me. I'd become a mother; in September I'd become Jack's wife. I let him pick the wedding date, asking only for enough time to shed off enough of the baby weight to fit into my dream wedding dress—a Mikado silk sheath with a lace train. I would wear it with a cathedral length organza veil that Jack's mother had worn when she married Jack's father.

As for Jack, I believed our love had taught him a thing or two as well. Thanks to the bond, he'd learned to trust me absolutely, to deal with his over-possessiveness and overprotectiveness, to accept his duties and responsibilities as a partner, a lover, a father, a clan leader.

He'd become an einhamir as great as his father and stepfather had been.

Tristan was right: the bond is a gift and privilege, and Jack and I should be proud of how we used ours.

I smiled, hearing the familiar sound of Jack's truck entering our street. Lux, a four-month-old German Shepherd, my present for Jack's birthday, heard it too. He lifted his head and sniffed the air, waking up Blueberry, who'd been napping snuggled up beside him.

A minute later I heard the driver's door slamming and Jack's long steps hurrying toward the house.

With sleeping Rosie in my arms, I walked to the door and opened it.

"I'm home," Jack said.

He stepped in and closed his arms around us.

Instead of an epilogue: The Wedding Gift

JACK'S STORY

The Wedding

USHERED BY TWO MEN—her grandfather and her uncle—Astrid walked down the aisle, clutching a small bouquet of white rosebuds in her hands.

She took my breath away. Dressed in a floor-length white silk gown that hugged every curve of her body, covered with a long veil as delicate as if it was woven of air and light, she looked like a creature from fairy tales. A vision. A dream. I had to touch her hand when she took her place beside me to feel her flesh, so ethereal she looked.

My bond mate, my wife, my love. A dream I had an eternity to live out.

The old Red Cliffs church was packed with our family and friends. The golden light of an early autumn afternoon was pouring in through the tall leadlight windows. The faint echo of the pastor's voice reverberated through the air and it seemed, at moments, that his words were coming out from the stone walls, as if the church itself was uttering them.

" _Love is patient; love is kind. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."_

_Love is you, Astrid,_ I thought, or whispered, perhaps, because Astrid smiled and touched my fingers.

Time stood still.

Then the pastor's voice reached me once more. "... For after these vows, you shall say to the world, 'This is my husband, this is my wife'."

I turned to Astrid and took her hands in mine. "I, John William, take you, Astrid Louise, to be my wife..."

ROSIE WAS IN MY ARMS when Astrid and I stepped out of the pleasant coolness of the church into a warm and bright September afternoon.

The town square in front of the church exploded with clapping and cheering—people from Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge had been gathering since morning to celebrate our wedding.

The town square served as a giant reception area. Open tents were decorated with white silk ribbons and thousands of pale pink and white roses. There was an improvised dance floor with a stage for Rawhide, Red Cliffs' only rock band, in charge of the music.

On the left, long double rows of tables set up for food and drink. On the right, under a striped red and white canopy, a playground for kids. All around—on the town square and nearby streets, on the terraces and balconies—countless smiling and laughing faces.

The band had to be reinforced for the occasion with several local musicians and a singer from Copper Ridge. Eamon, Rawhide's frontman, was my best man, and Maggie, the band's on and off singer, was one of Astrid's bridesmaids. Of course, the band's principal vocalist and its true star was unable to perform for an obvious reason. It was her wedding day.

WE WOULD FLY TO DENVER later that day in James's private plane, stay overnight at the Four Seasons Hotel, then continue the following afternoon to Rome. Our final destination was Palermo, in Sicily, where Astrid and I would spend our two-week honeymoon in Villa Aurelia, Livia and Tristan's house outside the city. The first week alone, then the second week, well, let's say we would have company for a couple of days. It was the best kept secret everyone knew about—except Astrid.

She worried about Rosie. Needlessly, but without revealing my surprise, I couldn't tell her she would see our daughter sooner than she expected. Nothing must compromise my "Wedding Gift Project", which I'd been setting up for months in the greatest confidentiality and with a lot of help from family and friends. It was pure luck that Astrid, normally an excellent observer, hadn't noticed anything so far. I attributed it to the wonder of parenthood and the joy of simple, ordinary life after a long period of danger and uncertainty.

And lots of lovemaking, for the sake of distraction.

THE PLACE AND THE TIMING were so crucial for the execution of my plan that I was momentarily startled when Astrid said, while we slowly danced, "I think we should postpone our honeymoon. We can't leave Rosie for two weeks." Her voice was soft, with uncharacteristic indecisiveness.

No, my love, that wouldn't do, I thought. I was grateful that her head rested against my chest so that she couldn't see the tension on my face. In one hour or so, we should be on our way to Denver. "It's not like we're leaving Rosie with strangers," I said, keeping my voice casual. "And it's not the first time we've gone somewhere without her."

"It was only once, and only for a weekend," Astrid said, referring to our recent getaway to Vegas a few weeks ago, cut short on her insistence. She'd been anxious about Rosie's reaction to our absence. We'd returned home on Saturday afternoon instead of Sunday evening. As might be expected, Rosie was perfectly fine—she often stayed overnight with her grandparents either in Red Cliffs or in Copper Ridge.

The music stopped. I walked Astrid to the edge of the dance floor and looked around for help. My mother caught my gaze and arched her eyebrow. I signalled her to come to us.

"Rosie spends as much time with Mom and Dad as with us," I reminded Astrid. "She'll be fine, Astrid."

My mother had overheard me and quickly figured out what the problem was. "If you're concerned about Rosie, don't be. Everything's going to be fine," she said in her calm, confident voice as she approached us. "By the time she notices you're not here, you'll be back. James and I will take her to Copper Ridge for a couple of days so that Rowena and Ahmed can spend time with her."

Astrid didn't look convinced. "She's just stopped breastfeeding."

Yes, a fortunate detail I'd counted on. Unlike human babies, our infants were breastfed for only three or four months. They were stronger and they needed solid food earlier. That's why we were now able to go on our honeymoon in the first place.

"Not 'just'," my mother said reasonably. "It was more than a month ago."

"Yes, but two weeks is too long." Astrid sighed.

"Astrid," I said gently. "Rosie will be fine. Trust me."

"Where is she, by the way?" Astrid asked, looking around.

My mother made a vague motion. "The last time I saw her, she was with James. Don't let her see you. I'm going to get her ready for bed and you two get ready for your trip."

When my mother walked away in search of her granddaughter, I closed my arms around my wife. "You should change clothes, baby. The plane's ready."

She nodded, quiet, her thoughts somewhere else. I listened to her breathing, her heartbeat, the rush of blood in her veins. Inhaled her scent, so fresh and lovely. Felt her body against mine. God, I loved her!

"I'm married now," she said in a dreamy voice and lifted her hand to examine her wedding ring. "It's so beautiful."

I intertwined my fingers with hers; our rings touched with a soft clink.

To match the pink diamond of her engagement ring, Astrid's wedding band was made of pale pink gold and decorated with the sacred symbols of asyngaer and gwerin y blaidd carved around the titanium center. Mine was the same, only the ring itself was made of titanium, and the symbols of gold. Protective magic had been forged into both rings. Magda Offenbach, our friend and goldsmith, had outdone herself once more.

"They are," I said, nuzzling on her neck and running my hands over her taut stomach and curvy hips. The fabric beneath my fingers was smooth and warm. "You know what? Leave this dress on. I've been dreaming of taking it off since I saw you in it this morning."

"The dress stays on if _you_ don't change," she said in a sensual purr, discreetly rubbing her butt against my groin. "You're the sexiest man alive in this tuxedo."

Desire surged, hardening my flesh. Astrid felt it and reluctantly moved away. She pivoted, lifted her head and offered me her soft, warm lips. "This night belongs to us, gorgeous. Now I need to finish packing."

I let out a silent sigh of relief. We could proceed with the plan.

"Don't forget to throw in an evening dress, for the opera," I reminded her. We had tickets for the seasonal premiere of Mozart's _The Magic Flute_ at the famous Teatro Massimo in Palermo. Not that we would need them, but it was yet another detail Astrid didn't need to know.

"It was the first thing I put into my suitcase," she said.

ROSIE WAS WITH HER UNCLE Eamon, not with her grandpa. Before my mother could collect her, the two of them joined us.

Astrid glanced at our daughter, and her tension was back. "Our disappearance could traumatize Rosie for the rest of her life," she said with a tremor in her voice.

"Nonsense," James said, close enough to hear Astrid's statement as he joined us from the other side, followed by my mother.

Rosie stretched out her arms to me to take her.

"Give her to me, Eamon," my mother said, but when she wanted to take her, Rosie turned away. Twisting her little body, she reached for me again.

I took her in my arms, but it was too late. Sensing that something unusual was going on, she opened her mouth and let out the loudest and most heartbreaking wail.

Astrid bit her lower lip, throwing me worried glances. I tried to comfort Rosie, whispering soothing words in her ear, rocking her gently and rubbing her small back. What always worked didn't help this time; Rosie was impossible to console. Eamon attempted to take her back from me but she would have none of it. Grandpa James wasn't any more successful. She clung to me with all her might, buried her head into my shoulder and, kicking and screaming, refused to leave my arms.

"Hey pumpkin, it's okay," I murmured. "Daddy and Mommy will see you soon. Look, Grandpa James is here. He has something for you."

Helplessly, James looked around. "I don't have anything!"

"Oh, come on, grab a balloon or something, Dad!" I said.

He took out a set of car keys, jingled them and offered them to Rosie. Astrid snatched them from him.

"Uncle! No! She'll put them in her mouth! She may hurt herself!"

James looked around, spotted several balloons on the dance floor, left around by children.

Astrid followed his gaze and stopped him. "Not those from the ground! They're dirty!"

James opened his hands in a gesture of frustrated resignation. "What do you want me to do?"

She looked at me, desperate. "Jack, do something."

"She's a smart girl," James said with pride. "She knows what the two of you are up to."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, James, how could you say that?" my mother said. "She's five months old! You're all making her fussy." She reached out and brushed Rosie's soft, light brown hair away from her forehead. "Look, it's damp. She's exhausted. Give her to me. You two just leave."

"Rosie will be perfect," James said, looking at Astrid. "She'll cry a bit, and that's it. Kids do that all the time, even when a parent goes grocery shopping. No harm in that."

Astrid's fingers fiddled with the wolf pendant on her necklace.

"It's called separation anxiety," Eamon said in the voice of an expert. "It's a stage in which a child shows anxiety when separated from the primary caregivers. It's regarded as a normal developmental phase, even though it looks quite dramatic from the child's point of view. Rosie is probably thinking now you'll never return. Makes you wonder if it's really harmless or not."

I gave him a warning look. Darn, whose side was he on? He should know better; he'd had an important role in our little conspiracy. "Rosie has quite a few primary caregivers, Eamon."

"That's right," Eamon said. "But look at her. She knows."

"When have you become interested in early childhood psychology?" I said.

"Astrid's grandmother and I talk about it sometimes."

"Why don't you talk to her about music next time? Astrid's a doctor, remember? Rosie will be fine. She'll see us soon, Eamon! _Soon_!"

Eamon raised his hands. "I'm just saying."

Astrid threw her arms in the air. "Maybe I suffer from separation anxiety," she snapped. "And if I hear one more time that everything will be fine, I'll start screaming. Nothing is fine."

Rowena and Ahmed joined us, then the Blakes, then my sister and Darius. The semicircle of concerned relatives around us was growing. Everyone had a piece of advice. Rosie's hold around my neck tightened even more as her howling became louder and more desperate.

Astrid took a step forward. "Give her to me, Jack. I'll calm her down. If you still think we should go, we'll wait until she falls asleep then leave. How on earth are we going to relax if we leave her like that, I have no idea."

"Don't be silly, Astrid! She's going to be—" I stopped myself in time, before the "fine", part, but the others kept talking.

"You just go."

"She'll be okay."

"Don't worry! Nothing would happen."

"It's your honeymoon."

People standing or sitting around started turning in our direction.

"Okay, that's it!" My voice broke through the loud discord of Rosie's blazing screams and the maddening cacophony of suggestions, explanations and concerns. Only the Blakes kept quiet. "Enough, all of you! And you, Miss Canagan," I said, unclutching Rosie's arms from around my neck and holding her slightly away so that she could see me, "you stop crying this instant!"

The fire-engine wailing ceased. Everyone else fell silent, too.

I took a breath and blew it out. "Livia, you and Tristan are going with us." There. I was not going to start my honeymoon thinking of my crying daughter and consoling my upset wife.

Eamon gave me a thumb up.

"I don't know, Jack," Astrid said with a tight smile. "It's a long trip. Why don't we postpone—"

"Astrid, listen. No need to postpone our honeymoon. It's just a slight change in the plan. Rosie's going with us, Tristan and Livia will babysit her, everyone's happy." Rosie, and everyone else, would've joined us in Palermo in a week anyway. "We'll have her close, there will be no danger of a lifelong trauma, and we'll still have our honeymoon."

"A clever decision," Livia said. "It's not Rosie's fault that her parents got married after she was born instead of the other way around."

I gave her an eloquent glance. "Livia, you and Tristan have half an hour to get ready. Astrid, let's go home to pack Rosie's stuff."

"Maybe Livia and Tristan had other plans," James said. "Eve and I could go—"

"James." My mother's voice bore a clear warning.

"Dad," I said, shaking my head in disbelief, "I am not taking my _parents_ on my honeymoon with me!"

At least not right away.

James burst out in laughter and slapped my shoulder. "Just a joke, son. You two are too tense."

Joke? I wasn't so sure.

"Astrid, let's go," I said. "We have a flight to catch."

I carried our suddenly quiet and happy daughter to the car. "I don't know how you understand what is going on, but understand you do," I said to Rosie. "So, listen to what your daddy is going to tell you now. You'll promise to be a good girl and let me and your mom have some time just for the two of us. Understand? And stop drooling on my tuxedo, your mother will go berserk if she sees that."

Behind us, Astrid chuckled, relieved.

The Gift

ONCE, AT THE VERY BEGINNING of our love story, I'd asked Astrid what opera role she would like to sing the most. "Queen of the Night, from Mozart's _The Magic Flute_ ," she'd answered without a blink.

I wasn't surprised. It was music as beautiful as it was difficult to sing, but Astrid had an exceptional voice. When she was young, she took voice lessons. Now, her vocal range reached well over five octaves and her breathing technique was perfect.

My brother, who studied music, explained to me that Astrid's natural dexterity allowed her voice to switch between the different parts of her register with unusual elegance and ease. She could sing everything—from the most challenging soprano arias to popular music. Eamon also said that Astrid would be the greatest opera singer in the world if the world could hear her.

Alas. Her dream to be an opera singer could never come true. Like all of us, she could easily blend among humans. Her voice? No way. It possessed strength and qualities no human voice had. The risk was too great.

That same night I'd promised her she would sing on the stage of a real opera house, with a real orchestra and real audience, even if I had to build a theater in Red Cliffs.

Or...

The alternative plan had started taking shape one evening in June, three months after Rosie was born. While researching opera houses and theaters around the world to figure out which one would be the easiest to put under a Talsyn, I stumbled upon a short article about a famous opera singer Amelia Brecht. "This fall will be her last season," the article stated. "Ms. Brecht will say her farewell by singing the role which has made her famous—the _Queen of the Night_ in Mozart's _Die Zauberflöte_ , on the same stage where she started her career, at _Teatro_ _Massimo_ in Palermo."

And then I read something that made my heart jump. "Ms. Brecht suffered a severe throat infection this spring. Our source, who wanted to remain anonymous, says that the illness might have permanently affected Ms. Brecht's vocal cords, expressing her concern about Ms. Brecht's current ability to sing one of the most challenging opera roles. The Teatro Massimo director, Giancarlo Brunello, however, insists that Ms. Brecht's voice is as beautiful and powerful as ever, adding that the reasons for Amelia Brecht's decision were personal. She's in her mid-thirties, the age when many opera singers reach their peak. If the illness indeed hasn't damaged her voice, we can only hope she'll change her mind."

I called my brother, told him about the article, and presented him with my plan— _if_ the "anonymous source" was right. He did his own research and, on the following Sunday, when Astrid, Rosie and I went over to my parents' house, Eamon asked me to meet him after dinner in his studio in the basement.

The rumors about Amelia Brecht's troubles with her voice were true, he said. She was anxious about the upcoming performance. If she hadn't been bound by the contract, she would've probably cancelled it.

"She'll need to be doubled by instruments," Eamon added. "Maybe not the first and second nights, but after that for sure. She has an extraordinary upper register, but the infection affected the agility of her voice. Her biggest problem will be to sing high notes. That part of _Queen of the Night_ that reaches a high F is not easy even for the strongest vocal cords."

The door opened and Astrid came in carrying a tray with three cups of coffee in her hands.

Eamon and I stood up. I took the tray from her hands and brushed a kiss against her lips.

"Jack and I are talking about the high F in your favorite aria," Eamon said as he gave her a peck on her cheek. "Who's your favourite Queen of the Night?"

"Lucia Popp; she sings it slower than the others, like me," Astrid said. "Diana Damrau. Sooyeon Kim has a brilliant voice. Have you noticed that her mouth is only half open when she sings it? She sings it effortlessly."

"Like you."

"Not quite. I'm incomparable," she said without false modesty, simply stating the fact.

"Sing it for me," I said.

"Now?"

"Why not? You promised me once you would, remember?"

She nodded, smiling. "If you stuck around. And you did. Take a seat and listen, then."

She cleared her throat and, as if we'd asked her to sing _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ , she sang _O zittre nicht, mein lieber Sohn_ , the first aria of Queen of the Night. When she finished, she smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

I was stunned. We all had heard her singing before, at Goblin's Hollow—pop, rock, jazz, country—but never any classical piece. "God Almighty! What a voice you have, Astrid!"

Eamon was blown away, too. "Tell me something, Astrid," he said once he gathered his wits. "If someone asked you to walk out on a stage and sing the _Queen of the Night_ right now, you could do it, couldn't you? You wouldn't need to rehearse?"

"I only would need a dress," she said with a chuckle. "My voice is not human, Eamon, so it doesn't behave like a human voice. It doesn't get tired, doesn't lose its strength. It's fully formed. If I knew a song, or an aria, or a composition, that would be it. I wouldn't need to practice, not even with the orchestra. It's like breathing or talking."

Eamon and I exchanged glances.

That moment, I started planning in my head. Our wedding had to be in early September, and the promise I once had given Astrid would be my wedding gift to her. We would go to Palermo for our honeymoon; the Blakes had already offered us their villa. The premiere performance of _The Magic Flute_ was scheduled for September 9. It would give Astrid and me a week to ourselves. The others would have enough time to make everything ready for her big night.

MY BROTHER CALLED MY PLAN simple yet insane. I didn't think it was simple.

It involved many people. Things could go wrong at any moment and the key parts depended on pure assumptions.

James contacted his friend, Alessandro Colonna, a blaidd and the former artistic director of Teatro Massimo. Colonna arranged a meeting with Amelia Brecht and her agent, Reinhart Goldberg, a man who'd devoted his life to Amelia and her career. James and Livia traveled to Vienna, where Amelia lived. Using gentle tallins, they convinced Amelia and Reinhart to accept their weird proposition, making sure that the singer and her agent kept it secret.

Although we were always cautious not to expose ourselves to humans unless it was absolutely necessary, this venture was less risky than it might look. Thanks to the tallins, the explanation behind the offer didn't sound too odd to Amelia and Reinhart: a media mogul wanted to give his wife a special birthday present—a private performance of her favorite opera, Mozart's _The Magic Flute_. The Teatro Massimo officials were ready to arrange it, if Amelia agreed to sing. The other singers had already said yes. Would she, too?

It was an impossible story, but in their altered states of mind, Amelia and Reinhart didn't question its authenticity. They didn't wonder why the Teatro hadn't contacted them directly with this proposal but sent instead these two people, whose names they kept forgetting, to arrange a bizarre private performance for their snobbish employer, whose name they couldn't remember.

Not that it mattered. Amelia and her agent were in a pleasant, safe inner place, like in a beautiful dream. And while the unusual proposal was a blur, their own, long-suppressed feelings for each other became clear. It was so easy to let them surface, they realized; why had they let so many things stand between them and their love?

They soon would wake up from their light, benign slumber, but their love would stay because it was real. It was Livia's doing. She'd seen their true feelings and couldn't help but give them a gentle push. Livia was an incurable romantic although she would never admit it.

The concrete reward for Amelia and Reinhart's consent was not only a generous amount of money deposited in their bank accounts but also something else, incomparably more valuable. Livia had cured Amelia's damaged vocal cords. Amelia would be able to continue her singing career—if she wanted, and we all believed she did. Her voice would be more beautiful and stronger than ever. Best of all, the change was permanent.

ONCE WE ARRIVED IN PALERMO, Astrid and I settled in the villa. The nineteenth-century Mediterranean building was a charming combination of traditional and modern. An orange orchard flanked the villa from the back and sides, while the front overlooked the azure Tyrrhenian Sea. The view was spectacular.

The Blakes' Sicilian retreat was an intimate place. It had an open area on the main floor and four bedrooms on the second level. A stone path led from the terrace to the private beach. The villa itself wasn't large but the property it sat on was, and well secured at that, providing its non-human residents with the privacy and safety they sought.

Rosie, Liv and Tristan stayed in a guest house nestling deep in the orchard. My smart daughter had somehow figured out her mom and dad were close by all the time and never complained when Liv and Tristan took her back to their place.

I couldn't be of any assistance to my co-conspirators anymore. My only job was to keep Astrid in the villa. The city was quickly filling with our family and friends. There was a good chance of accidentally bumping into someone. Everybody neutralized their scents, just in case, but I couldn't expect them to stay in their rooms.

Not that I had a hard time convincing Astrid to stay in.

AS PER OUR EARLIER AGREEMENT, on the morning of September 8th, Alessandro Colonna gave us a phone call. James had mentioned Colonna to Astrid, so she wasn't surprised to hear from him.

Colonna played his role with charm and ease. He'd heard from James that we were in Palermo on our honeymoon, he said, so he would like to invite us to the premiere of _The Magic Flute_ the following evening. And if we would come a few hours earlier, let's say around three o'clock, he added, he could give us a private tour of the theater and take us to an early dinner before the performance.

Astrid accepted his offer with gratitude.

"It's a magnificent building," she said when she finished the call, buzzing with excitement. "Verdi's _Falstaff_ was played at the opening night. It's still one of the largest opera houses in Europe." A pause. "What are we going to do with our tickets?"

My wife's rational attitude toward money had loosened up since we'd started living together, but she still hated wasting it.

"Maybe Liv wants to come to the premiere," I suggested the first thing that popped up in my mind. "Tristan can stay with Rosie."

"And we can give the other ticket to someone at the theater."

"Problem solved."

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON ASTRID and I met with Signor Colonna at the front of the Teatro Massimo. Colonna was a tall, stocky middle-aged man, too old for a blaidd. It had to be his adjusted look, for the sake of humans.

He greeted first Astrid then me.

Astrid looked astonishing. She wore a long sleeveless emerald green dress with a deep V neckline. It was made of satin and designed to follow her body contour. The color brought out the forest green of her eyes and the rich copper tone of her hair. Draped around her shoulders was a thin silvery-green shawl. I wore my grey wedding tuxedo.

The tour was quick, and I could see that Astrid was disappointed.

"A slight change of plan," Colonna said as we stood in the magnificent horseshoe-shaped auditorium. He gave me a discreet sign. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I said.

It seemed that Astrid hadn't heard him. Slowly, she was turning around, moving her eyes over the stage, the stalls, the gallery, the five floors of boxes including the famous Bellini Box and the Royal Box, both on the second level. Then she lifted her gaze and stared at the theater ceiling that resembled a flower with eleven petals.

I took her hand. "Astrid?"

She blinked. "Yes?"

"I ordered, er, our food to be delivered here," Colonna said. "We'll dine in the Royal Box."

The Royal Box had been chosen for this stage of the plan because of its size. It had twenty-seven seats and a private foyer called the Royal Sitting Room.

"Ah, lovely!" she said with a grin. Then she came to a sudden halt and swung around. "Signor Colonna, why is the theater empty? It should be buzzing with people." Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and looked at me. "Jack, what's going on here?"

Colonna came to the rescue. "The Royal Box is reserved for you for the entire evening," he said, distracting Astrid.

She gasped. "Oh! Signor Colonna! Are we really going to listen to _The Magic Flute_ from the Royal Box?"

I swallowed a chuckle. _We are, all but you, love._

" _Si signora_ ," Colonna said with a wide grin and offered Astrid his arm. "Now please come. I think everything is ready."

Astrid slid her arm into the crook of his. I walked on her other side.

"Is the theater under a Talsyn?" she asked as we strolled toward the stairway that would take us to the second level.

"Naturally," Colonna said. "A single couple in the Royal Box? It would look suspicious. We don't want unnecessary attention."

"Don't you feel the Talsyn?" I asked.

"Well ..." She looked around. "I guess I've been too excited to pay attention."

She didn't feel it. Some of the most powerful wizards, two ellidas, three Tel-Urughs and numerous wolf-people had joined forces and thrown such a powerful Talsyn that even Astrid couldn't see through it. Not a small wonder, since Astrid was considered to be immune to the strongest Talsyns. I was sure she would've noticed it the moment we'd stepped onto the Piazza Verdi, where the Teatro was located. Colonna had even been instructed to tell her it was a part of his little surprise. Yet she hadn't.

Then how come I had? Or was it a sensory illusion? I _knew_ a Talsyn had been put up and I _believed_ I could sense it—the fine buzz of the energy shield, which, like a gigantic dome, covered the theater and the area around it. It was the only logical explanation.

I didn't have time to ponder this little puzzle since we were already at our destination—at the front of the Royal Box. Our host bowed and kissed the back of Astrid's hand. "Signora Canagan. Ellida. I hope you will forgive me for this small deception."

Astrid's eyebrow arched. "Deception?"

"A tiny one." He took a deep breath then opened the door. "After you, my lady."

Astrid stepped inside the room. I was at her heels, and Colonna right behind me.

The Royal Box was jam-packed. Our parents and grandparents, our daughter, sleeping in Maggie's arms, unfurled by the commotion. Eamon, Darius; Violet, Peyton and Ingmar. The Blakes. Two ellidas—Morgaine and Ariel. Lani and Gerd Falkenstein. Mrs. Fontaine from Rosenthal. Azem Nimmani from Winston, Lily and Alec Falconer, Takeshi Nakamura, little Henry Radford and his family. Adam Mackenzie, the Brandon twins and the brothers Herzog. Lydia and Mike Dalton. More friends from Red Cliffs, Copper Ridge and Winston. All in all, quite a few more people than the room capacity allowed.

She blinked rapidly several times, then stuttered, "Wh-what are you all doing here?"

Queen of the Night

AT THE SOUND OF HER voice, the room burst with deafening cheers. In a blink, we were surrounded by our family and friends.

I placed my hands at Astrid's shoulders to steady her from this tide of love and excitement. "They came to listen to you, baby," I said. "This evening, you're going to be the _Queen of the Night_."

Her head snapped up. "I will sing?"

"Yes," I said.

"You mean for real?"

"On a real stage and for a real audience."

"A real stage!" Her voice pitched higher than usual. "Here. Oh, my God. I'll sing in the Teatro Massimo!"

Eamon wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "You'll replace Amelia Brecht."

"Amelia Brecht? But how?"

Now everyone was talking at the same time, interrupting each other until she raised her hand. "Stop! I can't follow! Hold on, everybody. Jack, a clear and simple explanation, please."

"Do you remember when I asked you what role you would like to sing the most?" I asked. "You said the _Queen of the Night_. And I said I'd find a way to make it possible. So, I did, with help from our family and friends." I brought her hand to my lips and kissed her palm. "This is my wedding gift to you."

She didn't say anything; she just watched me, her eyes filled with love and shiny with tears.

Then she threw herself on me. "Oh, Jack. I love you so much!" she said through sobs. "Thank you!" She took a step back and moved her teary gaze over the people standing around us. "Thank you all!"

"I love you, Astrid," I whispered into her ear, just for her, and brushed two glittering tears from her cheeks.

"What am I going to do?" she asked and sniffed, regaining her composure.

"Let me explain to you our plan for tonight," I said.

I gave Astrid a condensed version of the several months of methodical planning, conspiring and taking all sorts of risks, from the day I'd seen that article about Amelia Brecht to the moment Astrid had stepped in the Royal Box. I told her about the differences between the story we had presented to Amelia Brecht and what would happen tonight.

"Amelia will have beautiful memories of the best performance of her life," I said. "She won't remember her conversation with James and Livia, or the extravagant billionaire and his present to his wife. Amelia will watch you from the audience believing it is herself."

"Why didn't you just take her and hold her for a couple of hours? It would be easier."

I shook my head. "No. This way she'll have real memories. At least most of them will be real."

"Are you absolutely sure she wouldn't be harmed?"

"I am," Liv said as she approached us. "Amelia and Reinhart are my responsibility. They both will be perfectly fine."

Astrid nodded, relieved. It was a good choice to send Livia with James. Her skills in mental manipulations were masterful and Astrid's trust in Livia absolute.

"The singers, the orchestra and the audience have been taken care of, I suppose," Astrid said.

I kissed her hair. "Honey, the theater, the Plaza Verdi and a few blocks around them are under a Talsyn. I can't believe they made it so strong that even you don't feel it."

She cocked her head. "Do you feel it?"

"Kind of."

"Hmm." She gave me a look from under her lashes and smiled. "Now, what about the press?"

"The local press will be here because this is the season premiere, but there won't be any photo taking or video recording. Tomorrow, Amelia will be a star. Every newspaper in Palermo will celebrate her success."

"I assume the articles are already written," she said.

"Yes. Eamon wrote them. You don't need to worry, love. Everything is under control."

"There are enough Langaer in this room to put the whole of Sicily under a Talsyn," said the almost-forgotten Alessandro Colonna, whose appearance had changed to his authentic self—a good-looking man in his early thirties, with jet black hair and dark eyes.

"Ah." Astrid smiled, amused with Colonna's transformations. "Nice to know your real look. Thank you for all your help in organizing this 'little deception', Signor Colonna. Please come visit us in Red Cliffs."

"Thank you. It will be my pleasure, Ellida," he said with a bow.

Astrid smiled, then looked at me. "Jack, I need a moment with you."

There was _something_ in her voice and her smile that made me tingle all over. I screened the room for a secluded spot. In vain. "Do you want to go to the foyer?"

"No." She took my hand and towed me to a red brocade chair at the end of the last row. To give us some privacy, James, my mother and Rowena, who stood close by, moved away as much as the crowded room allowed.

"Can you sing tonight?" I asked, realizing for the first time, that this adventure might be too much for her. "If you don't want to—"

"I want it, of course," she said quietly. She asked me to sit down then nestled in my lap, closing her arms around my neck. "I have something to tell you."

"Tell me what, baby?" I said, smiling.

She leaned in until her lips touched my ear. "I have a present for you, too. I don't want anyone else to know. Not yet."

Then it struck me. Instead of doing it the easy way—lowering her voice to the level only I could hear—she was whispering. And she couldn't see the Talsyn. If I could, she should too. Unless... There was only one reason for her powers to switch to sleep mode—to prevent her from using the energy that might harm a new life growing inside her. I lifted my head and our eyes met.

She smiled and nodded, knowing my thoughts not with her uncanny skills but with her heart. "I'm pregnant," she said softly. "We're going to have another child."

For the second time in the last few days, time stopped. Astrid lowered her head and closed her mouth against mine.

"Whe-when?" I stuttered when our lips parted.

"Oh, in June. I got pregnant the night before our wedding."

"Are you sure? It's been only a week or so."

She chuckled. "We're sure. Louise knew even before me."

Louise. Astrid's blaidd benywaidd, her all-knowing, all-seeing, all-wise wolf. The integral part of Astrid's soul with a unique ability to present herself as a singular entity whenever Astrid needed her—for protection, encouragement, support.

"I was confused when you said you couldn't feel the Talsyn," I said. "Did Louise know we'd put it up?"

"Of course, but she kept your secret."

I placed my hand over Astrid's abdomen. Inside, in the sheltered warmth of Astrid's uterus, a tiny dot pulsated with life.

"My son," I whispered in awe.

"You think?"

"I know." I didn't know how, I just knew. "He was with us when we married."

"He—if he indeed is a _he_ and not another _she_ —was very, very tiny, but yes, he was with us." She kissed me once more and stood up. "It's time for me to get ready for the stage."

As if they had waited for some invisible sign, the women flocked around Astrid, holding in their hands her costume, shoes, hairdryer, curlers, makeup bags. My mother took Rosie from Ahmed. Rowena ordered all the men out into the foyer and closed the door behind us.

THE THEATER WAS FILLED to the last seat. Our family and friends were seated in the Royal and the Bellini boxes.

Astrid wore an elaborate midnight blue dress, a replica of the costume Rosalie Duplant, an eighteenth-century French singer, had worn when she'd sung her _Queen of the Night_ for the first time. It was Astrid's grandmother's idea. She had tracked down a Tel-Urugh who'd been in the audience that night. The woman described the dress to Ella to the last detail.

Not that long ago, Astrid had lived and worked under the name Rosalie Duplant, hiding from her enemies in a small city in Oregon. She'd come to Red Cliffs and become Astrid once again. She obviously liked the French singer's name. Not only had she used it herself, but she suggested it as the name for our daughter. Now I couldn't imagine any other name for Rosie.

Astrid's gorgeous reddish-blond hair was arranged into a complex, voluminous chignon. Like always, she wore very little jewelry, only her wolf necklace and two rings—the engagement ring and the wedding band. My wife, whose heirloom jewelry was worth millions, never wore any of it. The necklace and the rings—those she never took off.

WE MIGHT'VE PUT HALF OF Palermo under a Talsyn, but that night, Astrid cast a different spell over every man, woman and child in the Teatro Massimo—human and Langaer alike. Her presence, her beauty, her confidence and, above all, her divine voice enveloped the theater in magic. She was the true queen—the queen of the stage, of the audience, of this night.

The queen of my heart, my pillar, my strength. The mother of my children—the one that sat happy and content in my lap, listening to her mother's singing, and the other one that was growing in her womb.

The other singers and the orchestra looked dazzled, sensing that something unique and incredibly beautiful was happening in front of their eyes. A brilliant spark of pure delight, a fragment of eternity captured in the flow of time.

It flashed through my mind that Astrid's voice might at some point shatter the Talsyn, so clear and powerful it was.

The applause after the _Queen of the Night_ aria lasted for fifteen minutes and the standing ovation at the end of the performance even longer.

After bowing to the audience for the last time, Astrid rested her gaze on me and our daughter. Her eyes were shiny with tears. Placing her hand over her stomach, she mouthed, "We love you."

"We love you, too," I mouthed back.

###

Dear Reader,

_Thank you for finding the time to read_ The Two-Blood Legacy _, the first book in_ The Red Cliffs Chronicles _series. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving me a review at your favourite retailer._

_If you have comments or questions, I'll be happy to hear from you. You can contact me at mailto:_ jfkaufmannyyc@gmail.com _or visit my blog at www.jfkaufmann.com._

_I invite you now to take a glimpse into_ Guardian of the Realm _, the second book of_ The Chronicles. _You'll find it right after the_ Glossary.

Yours,

J. F. Kaufmann

Glossary

Although they have adopted human languages for their everyday communication, wizards, wolf-people and Tel-Urughs use a number of terms from their native tongues: Mál (M), Hen Iaith (HI) and High Akkadian (HA). Some words specific for Langaer originated in now extinct human languages. This is a list of those terms, in English transcription.

anrheg (HI)—gift, protective piece of jewelry made by the werewolf goldsmiths, who are able to forge magic into metal. Its powers work only if an anrheg is given as a gift.

asanni, pl. asinjur (M)—wizardess, female wizard in Mál (M), the wizard tongue. Asanni and related words are derived from the Old Mál word Asair/Æsair, which means life force, life light, but it also was the name of the territory they once occupied.

Asargard (M)—an otherworld where wizards go after death. Humans use the same name for the heavenly realm of the Aesir pantheon.

asyngaer (M)—wizards, wizard people. Few in number, they originated in Asair, an area which is today known as the Nordic and Baltic countries. Predating humans for millennia, wizards were organized in several independent city-states ruled by kings and other nobility. When humans emerged from a state of nature to civilization, wizards left their homeland and spread around the world. Since then, they haven't occupied any physical territory.

asyr, pl. aesar (M)—male wizard

blaidd (HI)—wolf-man, or werewolf in Hen Iaith, the old language of wolf-people, related to Archaic Welsh. The literal meaning is wolf, but it is also used for the physical, wolf form of a werewolf, as opposed to dyn (see further below). Blaidd, wolf-man and werewolf are interchangeable terms, depending on the context.

blaidd benywaidd (HI)—she-wolf, female wolf, the female counterpart of blaidd. Also, the wolf form of a she-wolf, as opposed to her human form called dynes (see further below).

dyn (HI)—man; the human form of a blaidd, as well as his human spirit, depending on the context.

dynes (HI)—woman; the human form of a blaidd benywaidd, or she-wolf. Also, her human spirit.

einhamir—a common title used for a clan's chieftain; the leader of a clan, alpha. In old Celtic languages, eiggi einhamir meant 'not of one skin' and was used to describe a man-wolf shapeshifter. Shortened to einhamir, it had become a titular term. It's not a hereditary position. When a clan needs a new einhamir, its members choose his successor by voting.

ellida (M)—"the one of the two bloods", a firstborn daughter of a wizard and she-wolf, or a wizardess and a he-wolf. She is a symbol of the ancient alliance between the two peoples. A powerful force of good, she is the highest-ranking member of her werewolf clan and its ultimate authority. Ellidas are respected by all Langaer (see further below).

Goedwig Arian (HI)—the Silver Forest. The werewolf afterworld; a place where wolf-people go once they are too old or tired to carry on. The spirits of those who die in battle, or are killed, are supposed to go there too. Once in the Silver Forest, they can resume their physical form, either as a wolf or as a human, and even return, under certain circumstances, to the world of the living.

gwerin (HI)—folk, people, 'our humans', as wolf-people call them sometimes, as opposed to ordinary humans. Gwerin is a common name for the humans who share the same realm with wolf-people. Gwerin is the key for the wolf-people's existence. The wolf-people population is small; marriages between blood relatives are forbidden. Interbreeding with gwerin provides them with a healthy gene pool. Children of such unions are considered gwerin y blaidd (see below) since they inherit immortality and physical strength. They can change forms and possess the ability to use werewolf magical powers.

gwerin y blaidd (HI)—wolf-people, or werewolves, as ordinary humans call them, even though the two concepts don't completely overlap. An old, pre-human race. They've always lived in proximity to humans. Together with gwerin, most gwerin y blaidd are organized in clans. Although their population isn't numerous, they can be found on every continent. A small portion of them live blended among ordinary humans, mostly in big cities, yet every individual has a clan identity.

Hen Iaith—the old language of wolf-people, related to Archaic Welsh. It's mostly used for ceremonial purposes. Like other Langaer (see below), gwerin y blaidd adopted human languages in their everyday communication.

High Akkadian—the ancient language of Tel-Urughs (see further below).

Langaer—a common term for the three non-human races—asyngaer, blaidd y gwerin and Tel-Urughs (see further below). It likely derives from langr, the Proto-Norse word for "long". Langaer means "The Tall People", the name some early Northern Europeans gave to wizards, believing they came from a faraway land of tall people. Later, werewolves and Tel-Urughs (see further below) adopted it for themselves as well, as opposed to the term "humans". The Langaer realm included gwerin, although they're not a Langaer race.

mab-y-clann (HI)—"son of the clan"; a blaidd or gwerin that becomes a member of a clann that isn't his by birth and blood, either through marriage or thanks to his merits. He still retains his own clan identity, if he has one. It's considered a great honor for both the blaidd and the clan.

Mál—the pre-human branch of Proto-Norse, Mál is now the sacred language of all wizards. Their spells can be cast only in Mál, otherwise they don't work.

rýtingur (M)—a wizard ceremonial dagger with a long blade decorated with botanical motifs. Eid Rýtingur, The Oath Dagger, was forged by the legendary wizard king Elgar, the grandfather of Illeana, the first ellida, as a symbol of the alliance between wizards and wolf-people.

tallin (HA)—"little shield"; the word is from the Tel-Urugh native tongue, but it's been adopted by all Langaer. Small, short-lived and harmless conjures, used to create a temporary illusion. Every Langaer individual can make various tallins, even children. A curiosity no one has an explanation for—tallin is always written with a small "t", except at the beginning of a sentence, and Talsyn (see below) always with the capital "T".

Talsyn (HA)—"great shield". To hide in plain sight, Langaer resort to their ability to manipulate space, time, energy and sometimes human consciousness to create the appearance of a different reality, or to alternate or erase human memory. Conjuring Talyns requires training, knowledge and significant skills. Not everyone can do them. They can be either short, long-lasting or permanent, although the most skilled Langaer and ellidas can remove permanent Talsyns.

Tel-Urughs (HA)—the oldest of all Langaer, the descendants of ancient gods, demigods and heroes originated in Mesopotamia. Humans wrongly call them vampires based on Tel-Urughs' feeding habits.

ulmah-daar (HA)—a Tel-Urugh who has permission to change a human (or, rarely, a wizard) into a Tel-Urugh by giving her or him a carefully measured amount of Tel-Urughs' blood.

upiri—the name the Langaer use for the creatures that fit the darkest and scariest human conception of vampires.

vardanni (M)—a female "guardian of the realm". Vardan is the male form. Vardans are those humans that are immune to Langaer magic. They can't be deceived and their memory can't be erased or altered. They are considered to be a link between the human race and the Langaer. They're rare and unaware of their ability unless they come in contact with the Langaer.

A preview: Guardian of the Realm

The Red Cliffs Chronicles Book 2

Man by day, wolf by night, Brian Canagan lives an isolated life on his splendid mountain estate. Lonely and tormented by his past, he needs a new focus. Funding a small heritage project feels like a good fit.

Restoration architect Elizabeth Chatwin needs a professional breakthrough. When a mysterious man offers her a dream job, she grabs it with both hands, ignoring the unsettling oddities surrounding her employer.

Brian's unexpected attraction to his sassy, brilliant architect awakes him from his emotional slumber. Risking unforeseeable consequences of exposing his world to Elizabeth, he'll lure her into it, hoping she has enough courage to love him – both the man and the beast.

Caught in a whirlpool of her own conflicted feelings, aware that she's missing the crucial details about the irresistible man she's fallen for, Elizabeth must decide whether she should follow her heart or her instincts.

Chapter One

Elizabeth

THE SITUATION WAS SLIPPING OUT of control.

"Mrs. Fontaine, please don't make this more difficult than it has to be," Sam Wakefield, Rosenthal's sheriff, said. "I don't want to handcuff you, but I will if I have to."

Charlotte Fontaine squared her delicate shoulders and braced her hands on her hips. "Cuff me? How dare you, Samuel Wakefield? I've known you ever since you were knee-high to a duck."

A twinkle of humor in his eyes, the formidable sheriff pulled on his best law-enforcement expression. "I'm really sorry, ma'am, but you have to come with us. You're under arrest."

That day's public protest to save a historic city block from destruction, including the popular Cosmopolitan Hotel, seemed to me like a carefully staged event. Nonetheless, I had my own professional and personal reasons for supporting the demonstrations.

It was time to intervene.

"Oh, for chrissake, Sheriff," I said, "you can't throw one of Rosenthal's most popular citizens in jail. This will backfire, you know."

Sheriff Sam Wakefield (under normal circumstances, my friend), turned to me with a sly grin. "You, on the other hand, are certainly not a prominent Rosenthal citizen. Now please turn around."

Before I could blink, cold metal closed around my wrists with a click.

The sheriff turned to his deputy. "Officer, escort Mrs. Fontaine to the car. And you, Elizabeth Chatwin," here he gave me a little push, "you are under arrest for trespassing, creating a public disturbance, disorderly conduct, and reckless endangerment. So far. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you..."

"Great job, Sheriff, arresting two women!" Dr. Ned Prentice shouted as he maneuvered a big sign that read _Save the Cosmo!_ "The city government, including the police, should've been on this side of the barricades, helping us save the Cosmo from those urban wreckers!"

Dr. Prentice was Rosenthal's beloved physician as well as the vice president of the Save the Cosmo! Committee, the group of heritage-passionate Rosenthalers, who'd organized the protest. The president of the committee was my fellow arrestee, Charlotte Fontaine.

The sheriff rubbed his neck. "Give me a break, Doc! The owner wants to sell it; you know that."

"Then the City could've bought it out!" someone else yelled.

"Yeah. It's common practice for a city government to be in the hotel business. Move over, folks, let me pass."

A young cameraman from the local TV station was recording the entire interaction, including our arrests. I jerked and kicked a little bit for the sake of some additional publicity for our noble cause.

"We want to save a building that is one of Rosenthal's landmarks and should be protected as a historic site!" I said, looking straight into the camera. "And now they're arresting a sixty-two-year-old woman with fragile health! Help us save the—"

Before I could say another word, the sheriff had me in the back of his car.

"I'm sixty, dear," I heard Mrs. Fontaine say before the young deputy opened the back door of his cruiser and, holding her hand, helped her in.

The flashing lights on, both cars pulled away and toward the police station, a few blocks south.

Looking at me in his rearview mirror, Sam said, "That was low. Fragile health, my ass. Look at her; she doesn't look a day over fifty and she's as healthy as a horse."

"Ned Prentice's brother is the judge. Mrs. Fontaine will be at home for her afternoon tea."

"Yes, she will; you're right. But you will not, hon."

"I don't care. I bet there's a nice little room in your station where I can camp overnight." I pressed my forehead against the bars between the front and rear seats. "Sam, you're not going to charge me with all those offenses, are you?"

"Now, sweetheart, I'm afraid you don't understand," Sam said with a suppressed laugh. "You and your mob blocked the busiest street in town during rush hour—"

"Rush hour in Rosenthal? You must be kidding!"

"And placed the city in a virtual state of lockdown."

"For about twelve minutes, until you and your forces crushed—"

"Forces? It was only me and my deputy."

"Until you and your deputy crushed our peaceful protest," I said. "There."

"For which you never got permission from the city."

"And why didn't we?"

Sam signaled and turned left. "Because Lottie was advised not to apply for permission. Elizabeth, nobody in Rosenthal wants to see the Cosmo knocked down, but you can't expect the city officials or the police to join the demonstrators. Lottie needed some media attention, and she got it. Her arrest was the cherry on top."

"I was arrested, too," I reminded him.

Sam winked. "You're collateral damage."

Just great.

He pulled into the police parking lot, cut the engine and turned to me. "The City would buy out the hotel if there was money for that. It's a historic building. Alas, our budget is smaller every year. Lottie and her committee know that, so they're determined to find an investor who will restore the Cosmo before it's too late."

"It's not only the Cosmo," I said. "The entire Baker Block is in danger." The historic block, which included the Cosmopolitan Hotel, was the heart of the city.

"Of course not. All the buildings in the Baker Block are from the same period, all of them in good condition. Lottie's clever. If she saves the hotel, the whole block may be saved. I wouldn't be surprised if she already has an investor in mind."

"The whole of Rosenthal is helping her, in one way or another."

"Including you and me. See, I risked the reputation of the police department by 'crushing' her protest, and you will get a criminal record."

Oh my god! Criminal record! "Sam, you're joking, aren't you?"

"I have to charge you, for the sake of authenticity. But don't worry; I bet Lottie's lawyer's already in the station waiting for us. He'll bail you both out. Now let me uncuff you, honey. You must be uncomfortable. By the way, are you free on Thursday night? I need someone to stay with Jacob."

Sam was the single father of a four-year-old boy. I loved Jacob and always looked forward to spending time with him. "I'll make sure I am," I said with a wide smile.

MOST OF THE CHARGES AGAINST us were dropped, except for causing a public disturbance. Which would've also been dismissed if Mrs. Fontaine, against her lawyer's advice, hadn't insisted _we'd_ intended to cause it.

I'd had no such intentions, of course, but since I was the Save the Cosmo!'s professional consultant and Charlotte Fontaine's friend, it was a matter of loyalty to support her statement.

The lawyer assured us we'd end up with some light community service.

"I'll give you a ride, and then I'm going home," I said to Mrs. Fontaine as we left the police station and walked toward my car. "All I need now is a cup of tea and a hot bath."

"What you need is a glass of wine," she said and slid her arm through mine. "I'm throwing a party tonight, to celebrate our success, and you're coming with me."

This could be a perfect chance to learn more about Mrs. Fontaine's grand plan. I was part of it, after all.

"Sure," I said. "But can we stop by my house, just for fifteen minutes? I need to change into something more party-appropriate."

"No, you don't," Mrs. Fontaine said and took a step back, her eyes scanning over my attire: a light beige coat, a knee-length turquoise dress and three-inch-heel pumps in the same color. "You're already dressed for a party, darling. You were overdressed for the protest."

Chapter Two

Elizabeth

"YES! WE DID IT!"

Charlotte Fontaine thrust her small, manicured hand into the air as we watched the TV in her living room. "We made the evening news! This is better than I expected."

I laughed. "Yes, we did it indeed, and _you_ made the evening news. They cut _me_ out. On the bright side, my heritage efforts will be saved for posterity in my police record. And I owe you bail money."

She dismissed my comment with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it. Listen, there's a bottle of your favorite unoaked Chardonnay in the fridge. Why don't we have a glass while we're waiting for the others?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Fontaine," I said, touched by her consideration. I'd mentioned once that only certain unoaked white wines didn't give me migraines, and she'd remembered.

I went to the kitchen, opened a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. Back in the living room, I passed one to Mrs. Fontaine and sat across from her in an armchair. Sipping my Chardonnay, I watched as she phoned the committee members one by one, inviting them to join us later to celebrate our victory.

Charlotte Fontaine, a petite, feisty woman with vivid blue eyes, was the widow of the former Rosenthal mayor. Our acquaintance had started last November, when Mrs. Fontaine had contacted _CBB_ _Restauration_ , the small Montreal-based company owned by me and my partners Rick Barclay and Alain Besson. _CBB_ stood for the initials of our last names. We specialized in architectural conservation and restoration and she'd offered us a job: to evaluate a little nineteenth-century hotel and estimate the cost of restoration, with a possibility of carrying out the work on it.

I hadn't been in the office when she'd phoned, but my partners had accepted the offer without a blink. It was a harsh time in the heritage building restoration business and the big jobs were few and far between.

Excited about the contract, Rick had offered a competitive price. He told Mrs. Fontaine our specialty was churches and that we had only done a few public buildings. "I'm not concerned about that, Mr. Barclay," she'd said. "I've checked your credentials; you always do exceptional work. You'll find the structure of the Cosmopolitan not very different from a church from that time period, including the stained-glass windows and doors. We have permission from the owner to do an estimate, so I'd like one of you to come here and take a look." Rick had suggested me, and Mrs. Fontaine agreed, adding that, if the cost of the renovation was reasonable, I might lead the project.

I was grateful to her. Both Rick and Alain were more experienced and had been in the business longer than me. I worked on small parts of the projects. I guess our employer figured I'd have more time for her venture than my partners.

The following week I arrived in Rosenthal, and Rick and Alain had gotten several significant conservation projects on the West Coast, thanks to Mrs. Fontaine and her connections.

I settled in a lovely little house left vacant after the previous owner, a friend of Mrs. Fontaine, had moved out of town.

The rent was ridiculously low. I even had a car at my disposal—a six-year-old Honda Accord—and a small cash advance in my account.

EVERYTHING HAD BEEN JUST PERFECT, only I didn't think I'd enjoy my new life for long. The small hotel's future wasn't looking bright. It was set to be sold, along with the entire block, to the land developer with the highest offer. So far, only one company—Urban Imprint—had shown interest in buying it. Unfortunately, they were more interested in building new structures than in restoring and developing existing ones, regardless of their potential historical significance.

The grim perspective didn't discourage the heritage-passionate Rosenthalers and the mastermind behind the plan for saving the hotel—Charlotte Fontaine.

The moment I saw the Cosmopolitan, I fell in love with it and I wanted more than anything to restore it to its former glory.

Neglected due to lack of money and proper care, the Cosmopolitan was still a beautiful structure. Built between 1870 and 1872 as a much smaller replica of the famous neo-classical Hotel Royale in Vienna, it had forty-two guest rooms, the original furnishings, stained-glass windows and doors, rosewood paneled elevators, and marble bathrooms with heated floors.

For almost a century and a half, the small hotel had been the center of the town's social life. Rosenthalers, well-to-do, cosmopolitan, sociable, albeit a little bit snobbish and eccentric, were proud of their town and its history and loved their little hotel dearly. There they held their wedding receptions, celebrated birthdays and other important days, welcomed their amateur golf guests from all around the world and promoted the work of local writers and painters.

Yet, when my cost estimation assignment was done, I didn't return to Montreal. Mrs. Fontaine didn't have any trouble convincing me to stay in Rosenthal for a few more months and join the Save the Cosmo! Committee as a professional consultant.

"ELIZABETH, DARLING, PLEASE CHECK IF I uploaded the evening news to YouTube properly, will you? I want to send the link to a friend of mine," Mrs. Fontaine said and passed me her iPhone.

I smiled as I watched the short video. I didn't need to check anything. When it came to modern technology, Mrs. Fontaine was the savviest senior I knew. "All's good," I said and passed her the iPhone.

She took it and speed-dialed a number.

"Rowena? Hi, Lottie here... I'm fine, thank you. How's Ahmed? And the little fella?... I _promise_ I'll visit you as soon as my little business here is done... Yes, the hotel and a few other buildings. We had a public protest today, and guess what? They arrested my architect and me, can you imagine? My lawyer bailed us out... No, no, we're okay, don't worry. We were on the news. I'll send you a link. Did you check our website? _save-cosmo-exclamation-mark-dot-com_ , all one word... You did? Great! Did you have a chance to talk to Jack and Astrid? Maybe Millennium Properties would be interested in buying it or investing in the renovation."

Ah, there we were. Sam was right. The entire purpose of today's commotion was to try to find an investor who'd save the Cosmo and the Baker Block from demolition. And yes, Charlotte already had someone in mind.

Mrs. Fontaine was giving Rowena—whoever she was—a frank account of the events related to the future of the hotel and the block. "Even if my friends and I had enough money to buy it out, what would we do with it?" she said. "We're not business people. Trust me, Rowena, it's a good investment. Once renovated, the hotel can be profitable again. The other four buildings of the block are also versatile. They can be turned into anything. They're beautiful structures. We can't let them destroy them... Yes, you're right... It'd be great for our economy, but we need a big investor. That's why I thought maybe if Millennium Properties..."

As Mrs. Fontaine listened to her friend, the smile on her face widened. "A land developer? Why, that would be great! ... Ahmed's cousin? Right, I remember you mentioning him. And you think he'd be interested? ... Thanks a lot, Rowena... I know... What is his name again?... Uh-huh... I'll text you my architect's cell phone number. He can call her anytime. Her name is Elizabeth Chatwin... Yes, she's young but very capable... All right then, talk to you soon. Say hello to everybody. Kiss Aydan for me, will you? Bye now."

Mrs. Fontaine placed the phone on the table, beaming. "Well, I just might've found us an investor."

I chuckled. "The one that can call me anytime? And who are all those people—Rowena, Jack, Ahmed, his cousin? How well do you know them?"

"Rowena Vandermeer and Dr. Ahmed Demir are my friends," she said, taking a seat across from me. "Dr. Demir used to live and work in Rosenthal for years. He's originally from Turkey; his family is very old and noble. Astrid, Rowena's daughter, also lived in Rosenthal and worked in the hospital. She's an orthopedic surgeon. And then she married Jack Canagan and moved to Colorado. They're my close friends, too. I visited them last year."

Too many names; I wasn't sure I'd gotten who was who. "And who's Aydan? Rowena's grandson?"

"No. Astrid and Jack have a daughter. Aydan is Rowena's son with Dr. Demir."

Aware of my arched eyebrow, she explained, "Rowena was a teenager when she had Astrid. Anyhow, Astrid and Ahmed had been friends and colleagues. And then Ahmed met her mother, fell in love with her and also moved to Colorado. So romantic, isn't it? The house you live in is Astrid's house, you know. And the car you drive, it was hers as well."

Interesting. "The house has a nightingale floor in the bedroom. Did she have it built, or did it come with the house? It's so beautiful. I'd never dreamt I'd live in a house with a nightingale floor."

Now it was Mrs. Fontaine's turn to raise her eyebrows. "Nightingale floor? What's that?"

"A sort of safety device. It's called _uguisubari._ It's a wooden floor designed to make a chirping sound when you walk on it. They were common during the Edo Period in Japan. Why did she need a nightingale floor? Was she in danger?"

Mrs. Fontaine shrugged. "Nah. It must be because she liked all things Japanese, you know, ink paintings, sliding doors, minimalist design, things like that. Back to our business, the Canagans own a real estate company, Millennium Properties. Have you heard of it?"

I hadn't, so Mrs. Fontaine explained that Millennium Properties was a profitable medium-sized real estate enterprise. Best of all, the recent recession didn't seem to have affected it at all.

"You think Millennium Properties would be interested in buying the hotel and the rest of the Baker Block?" I said.

"I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask. Rowena promised to talk to Astrid and Jack, but before that, she says she wants to have a word with Ahmed's cousin. He lives in Copper Ridge."

"Where's Copper Ridge?"

"Why, near Red Cliffs, in the Colorado mountains, of course."

I'd never heard of those places before, although Mrs. Fontaine's voice clearly suggested I should have.

"Anyway, Ahmed's cousin is a developer," Mrs. Fontaine carried on, "very rich, an architect."

"This is great! This is the best news we've heard in the last two months."

Mrs. Fontaine blinked once, twice. "He's a bit of an eccentric. But it's not our concern."

"What do you mean by eccentric?"

"Maybe eccentric isn't the best word. Perhaps not very social. He lives on his estate with two caregivers and his secretary. He was in some kind of accident, so he's in a wheelchair. He can walk, but with difficulty and he's in and out of the hospital. He underwent numerous surgeries and he's doing better, but could be quite moody, according to Rowena."

No wonder he wasn't in good spirits. "Maybe he's depressed. Maybe he's in chronic pain, who knows? Why does she think he'd be interested in investing here? Is she trying to pull him out of his despondency?"

"Rowena says he's passionate about heritage buildings, or at least he used to be before the accident."

"What is his name again? Maybe I know him."

"Khalid Nouri."

I smiled. _"Eternal Light."_

Mrs. Fontaine's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"That's what his name means in Arabic. It doesn't sound familiar, though. Maybe Rick or Alain have heard of him. I'll ask them."

"They might not have heard of him. Rowena mentioned he lived in England before he came here," Mrs. Fontaine said and then changed the subject. "You speak Arabic?"

"I lived in Egypt for several years when I was a child. My father was a professor of Oriental Studies at the Al-Azhar University."

"How about your mother? She was also a university professor, wasn't she?"

"Yes. A medievalist. She was an expert on the Early Middle Ages." I reached for Mrs. Fontaine's brand new MacBook Pro that sat open on the coffee table. "Now, let's google our Mr. Nouri."

"Oh, don't bother now. Medievalist, you say. I wondered how you got your middle name. Very old, but beautiful."

I smiled. "Thank you. I was named after one of my mother's favorite research subjects, Queen Bertrada of Laon."

"Charlemagne's mother... It suits you, you know." Mrs. Fontaine refilled my still half-full glass.

I took a sip of wine. "How old is he?" I said, eager to know more about our potential investor.

Mrs. Fontaine stood up, closed the Mac and unplugged it. "Our guests are about to start showing up. We won't need this tonight. How old is who?"

I sighed. " _Mr. Nouri_."

All I got from Mrs. Fontaine was a strange faraway look and an unexpected answer. "That's the million-dollar question, my dear."

I looked at her, puzzled. Sometimes, Mrs. Fontaine had bizarre answers to simple questions.

Before I could ask what the heck she had meant this time, the doorbell announced the first group of our party guests.

Chapter Three

Brian

"WE'RE COMING OVER, BRIAN. I'VE just heard something very interesting. We need to talk."

I rubbed my neck. God, she wouldn't give me a break.

And she knew I didn't want anybody to call me Brian, not until I was ready to reclaim my past. She thought I was ready, and I didn't have a say in it. That was my friend Rowena; stubborn and pushy.

"No, we don't need to talk, Rowena. Not tonight. I'm tired," I said, knowing I hadn't discouraged her in the least.

"Are you in pain? Are you about to shift?"

"Not yet." It always happened around midnight; it hadn't changed. "Although, if I could, I'd turn now."

"It's that bad, huh?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern.

It was. I was in constant pain in my human form. It was a part of me, and I'd gotten so used to it that now I was able to stay in my painful form almost all day.

It was close to nine o'clock in the evening. Three long hours before I could transform into a blaidd—a wolf-man—and have a long run through the woods. My blaidd didn't feel pain, only my dyn, my human entity, did. I still limped, true; my wolf leg was as damaged as its human counterpart was. My sense of smell was somewhat weakened, but my wolf vision had almost fully recovered, and my mind was less unhappy in my wolf body than it was in my human form.

"I'll be fine," I said. "So where's the fire this time?"

"Listen, Ahmed and I will be there in twenty minutes. Hal's coming with us."

Hal Mohegan was our mutual friend. Like me, he was presumed dead. "This sounds like a damn TV intervention," I said. "I don't like it."

"It's time to sort out this mess, Brian. I want to marry the father of my child, but I can't because I'm still married to Hal. And you're —"

"I know." I didn't need her to remind me that I was still married to Eve, who had married James Mohegan, Hal's brother and my best friend, believing I was dead. After she recovered from the shock of my resurrection, I could only picture how thrilled she'd be to discover she was living in a polygamous marriage.

I heard Rowena exhale. "Okay, forget about that now. It's about a business proposal. Is Azem there? We'll need his legal expertise."

I sighed. "Where else could he be?" Azem Nimmani was my lawyer, my personal assistant, and my friend. And one of the three people whose company I could tolerate for more than one hour. The other two were Harriet and Jason Killian, my temporary caretakers. All three of them were from Winston, a clan up in the Canadian North, where I had spent a quarter of a century trapped in my wolf form. And dead to the rest of the world. They had come with me to Copper Ridge to help me with the transition, as Harriet liked to say. From the wolf-man to the man. From dead to alive.

"I don't know," Rowena says. "He's always running errands for you because you don't want to move your lazy ass from the house. You know, for a person who calls his home the _tinselhouse_ and always complains about how over-furnished and over-decorated it is, you spend an awful lot of time in it."

"I neither furnished nor decorated it, so I have the right not to like it. As you remember, I didn't buy it because of its looks, but because it's isolated and big. And I'm going to get rid of its Rococo charm soon. I plan to renovate it, top to bottom."

"You could've done it already."

"I've started. I finished my study."

"You removed the knick-knacks and extra furniture and stored them in the attic. Is that your idea of renovating?"

"And my bedroom. It's new."

"Only you don't use it."

I sighed, frustrated. "Doesn't your baby need to sleep, Rowena? Isn't it a bit late for a visit?"

"Ha-ha. Nice try. Aydan's still awake, but a short ride to your house will help him fall asleep. See you in twenty."

AZEM JOINED ME IN THE library and I told him about Rowena's phone call.

I had to admit I was curious about what kind of business proposal Rowena had in mind. It had to be something much bigger than her regular weekly attempts to fix my life or she wouldn't have dragged Ahmed, the baby and Hal with her.

"How's your leg tonight?" Azem asked as he poured us both a glass of scotch. We sat in the library, waiting for our late-night visitors to arrive.

I took a good swig and closed my eyes in almost-pleasure. "No worse than usual. Let's see what Rowena wants."

"She always wants the same thing; she just changes her tactic each time. Once she runs out of ideas, she'll simply order you to stop hiding. She's the Copper Ridge einhamiress, therefore your alpha, so you have to obey her. But she wants you to quit all this self-pitying on your own and start living your life."

I first thought I'd misheard him, but when I realized I hadn't, rage swept over me.

"Damn it, Azem, I'm not ready to become Brian Canagan again. Look at me, I'm a cripple. I'm half the man I once was!"

"I didn't know you before they brought you to Winston half-dead twenty-five years ago. But from all I've heard, you were nothing like this. What are you so afraid of? Don't you want to be with your family and friends?"

"If I were Brian Canagan from twenty-five years ago, you'd never talk to me like this."

Azem stood up and, bracing his arms on the desk, looked straight into my eyes. "If you were that Brian Canagan from twenty-five years ago, you wouldn't feel sorry for yourself twenty-four hours a day."

"What the hell do you want from me?" I jerked up from my seat, but a sharp pain slashed through my leg up to my spinal cord and nailed me back. I breathed in and out several times, fighting nausea.

Azem was right; that's why I was so mad at him. "I feel miserable most of the time. I don't need others to point out the obvious to me." I exhaled, feeling old and tired. "A part of me died that day. I don't know who I am anymore, Azem."

"It's time to figure it out," Rowena said in her resonant voice as she entered the library, followed by Hal and Ahmed, who carried the sleeping Aydan in his car seat.

"SO, AN URBAN DEVELOPER WANTS to buy an old city block in some small Pacific Northwest town, knock it down and build an apartment complex or something. What's wrong with that?" Azem said.

"The developer is Urban Imprint, and they are infamous for their dubious business ethics and their cheap and ugly strip malls they like to build," Rowena said. "They hope to get it for peanuts because the market is lower than ever. The block is old and beautiful. And there's this little hotel. She turned her laptop to me. "Here. The Cosmopolitan. Built in the 1870s. Look how cute it is. Astrid says it's the heart of the city. Urban Imprint would bulldoze it as well."

"How do you know about all this?" I asked.

"Lottie Fontaine, a friend of mine. Ahmed and Astrid know her well. Lottie's the president of a group that is trying to gain public support to save the buildings from demolition and find investors who'll restore them. They organized a protest today in front of City Hall."

"Who's the owner of the block?"

"The City. Except for the hotel, which is private property."

I shifted in my seat and stretched my bad leg. Damn, it hurt. "That's a big job far away from here, Rowena. I can't travel; you know that."

"Pfft, a piece of cake. With today's technology, you can do most of the work from here. And that young architect that Lottie has hired can travel here if necessary."

"What young architect?"

The baby started crying. Rowena lifted him from the car seat. "Lottie hired a restoration architect to do the cost estimate for the renovation... I have to feed Aydan. We're going to use your study, Brian, if that's okay."

I smiled. "Go ahead. Do you need anything else?"

"We'll be fine. By the way, where are the Killians?"

"Visiting some friends."

"Do you need me, Rowena?" Ahmed asked.

"No, love. Will you and Hal explain to Brian the logistics and financials?"

When she left, I turned to Ahmed. "How do you think I can buy a city block when I don't have access to my money? Officially, I'm still dead. You had to lend me money to buy this house, remember?"

"I will lend you the money again," Ahmed said. "It's a loan, Brian, only interest-free."

"We're talking about big money here."

"Do I need to remind you that you're rich?"

"Hypothetically speaking." My wife and my son had inherited my wealth. Later, Eve had given everything to Jack. She was a wealthy woman in her own right.

"I'm sure Jack will transfer all your assets back to you once he learns you're alive."

"It'll take time."

Ahmed shrugged. "I'm not in a hurry."

He had solutions for everything. "You rebuilt half of Copper Ridge," I said. "I'm surprised you have any money left."

"I have much more money than I need. Once this block in Rosenthal is yours, you and I will invest in rebuilding it. I'm sure Millennium Properties would also like a part in it. I'll talk to Astrid, Jack and James."

"You'll also need to talk to Hal and me," I said. "We're also partners. Or we will be again."

Hal laughed. "The dead-silent partners for now. We have to change that."

I took a deep breath. "So we will, Hal... Ahmed, why don't you do it yourself? You don't need me. I can announce my return in a less dramatic way."

"I'm a doctor, not a land developer. On the other hand, I'd like to do something for Rosenthal. I lived there for twelve years; I have a soft spot for it. Rosenthal's always been a wealthy little town, but now they're really struggling. This will be a nice boost to the local economy. This is Rowena and Hal's idea, I'm financing it, Azem's taking care of the legal aspect. And you, my friend, you're going to roll up your sleeves and do the actual work."

"It's not an intervention. It's a conspiracy," I said, suppressing an involuntary smile.

"I think it's a great plan. It's time you and Hal resume your lives," Azem said. "Your families and friends need you back."

"Not to mention everyone loves somebody else's wife," Hal said with a chuckle.

"Except you," Ahmed said, slapping Hal's shoulder. "At least, Violet isn't married."

And me, Ahmed, I thought. I still loved my own wife.

Hal turned to me. "We're no more than ghosts now. Neither dead nor alive. I'm tired of it. I want to carry on with my life. Damn it, I have to hide every time I come here, and Violet must sneak out of Copper Ridge to spend a few days with me in Winston. Peyton's already suspicious."

Violet Kincaid was the love of Hal's life, as well as Rowena's best friend. Peyton was Violet Kincaid's daughter and, as I'd heard, Astrid's best friend. Peyton and her wizard husband had had a baby daughter. Violet, naturally, wanted to be close to them, and not to travel back and forth between Copper Ridge and Winston.

"There is an easy way to fix it," Azem said. "Everything can be done in one day, but first I need you two legally alive."

"It's not that simple," I said. "Not at all." Hal looked at me. "It doesn't need to be complicated, either, Brian. Everything's gonna be fine in the end; remember what Ellida Morgaine told us years ago? And this _is_ the end, isn't it?"

Introducing

Best friends and Other Lovers

Two lonely souls trapped in a stormy night. A blind date gone awry. A quest to save the best friend from the worst mistake of his life, with a dash of Christmas magic...

Three couples, three adventures, three love stories.

Once Upon a Night

At first glance, Angela and Nick don't seem to have much in common: she's a young widow trying to make ends meet, and he's a successful businessman in his mid-thirties. He's confident, well-educated and eloquent; she's shy, has struggled through school and communicates more easily with horses than with people.

But they share an aching loneliness and the need for a brief escape – Angela from the ghosts of her past, and Nick from his uncertain future.

When the clock strikes midnight, will it bring the end or a new beginning?

Blind Date

Two years after her divorce from Nick, Hannah is ready to move on. But when her friend pushes her to go on a blind date with a gallery owner, Hannah is hesitant. She's attracted to Edward, an architect who works in the same building.

Edward also has a blind date. The woman he's about to meet, according to his friend, is "brilliant and gorgeous". Edward would be intrigued if only he could stop thinking of the quiet, shy and sexy-as-hell Hannah, the book editor from the top floor.

With Hannah's company moving out of the building, will she and Edward have enough time to open up to each other? Or will they give up and take a chance on the blind dates neither of them cares about?

Best Friends and Other lovers

Deanna is on a mission. Her best friend is about to propose to a wrong woman and Deanna has a few precious days over Christmas to save him from the worst mistake of his life.

Ted, a long-time bachelor, has decided to settle down. A ring in his pocket, he's ready to pop the question. He just needs to be sure that his future wife loves him as much as he loves her.

A relaxing holiday is an opportunity to get his answers.

With a dash of Christmas magic, Deanna and Ted's wishes may come true.

Acknowledgments

_My deepest gratitude to Judy Munoz from Winnipeg, for sending me the abundance of positive vibes from across the Canadian Prairies, and to Callie Jones from Glamorgan, Wales, for her enormous help with the Welsh terminology._

_Judy and Callie, thank you for reading_ The Chronicles _when they were just messy manuscripts. I'm humbled by your fondness of my stories and I'm grateful for the opportunity to share them with you._

A huge thank-you to Srđan Filipović, the artist who created such gorgeous book covers for my stories.

About the Author

J. F. Kaufmann started her writing career in newspapers and magazines. She is the author of The Red Cliffs Chronicles and a collection of contemporary love stories, Best Friends and Other Lovers.

She lives is Calgary, Canada.

Visit her blog at www.jfkaufmann.com.

