Chapter 30

N ot that one . Moya pushed aside the yellow top. No, I'm not in a white mood—not with all this snow.

Black was too much like mourning.

Honestly . She thumped her forehead against the closet wall.

It had been a week since the battle with the Scythe, and like many Daonain in town, she'd been unsettled and grumpy.

But the Cosantir declared it was time to move forward and was hosting a party for the shifter captives and the ones who'd fought that night.

All the previous shifter-soldiers—the ones who were adults now—were invited too. André said they needed a way to celebrate the end of hunting down the Scythe. Many of them had already been in Cold Creek and Ailill Ridge, finishing up what they'd gotten from the Colonel's belongings. Patrin and Fell had spent the day up there with Wells.

She pulled in a breath. They were back now. Everything felt better when they were near.

So I need to find a top. She rummaged through two more shirts—and yes, this one . Moya squirmed into the form-fitting, hot pink, ribbed sweater. The pronounced V-neck made her smile in satisfaction. Ah, cleavage, there you are.

"Hey, is there a feisty female in here?" Patrin called and, not waiting for an invite, walked into her apartment.

One of these days, she'd lock the door, just to hear him thump into it. "In the bedroom."

He entered and stopped, color rising in his face, his scent changing to a musky let's-mate-right-now scent that made her laugh. Males were so predictable.

Shaking her head, she turned to check her appearance in the tall mirror.

Patrin stepped up behind her, his chest against her back, and reached around to cup her breasts. "How about we stay in tonight, blodyn ?"

Heat sizzled through her blood. "No, Top Dog, your pack and shifter-soldiers expect you."

"Maybe we could arrive at the party late?" His voice was husky. Bending down, he nibbled on the skin exposed between her neck and shoulder. His breath teased her skin.

She huffed out a breath…because he wasn't the only one aroused. "You are a mangy mongrel." Spinning in his arms, she went up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

His arms tightened around her. "Yeah, we're gonna be late."

She ran her hands up his shoulders and around his neck. Under her fingers, she could feel the almost healed wounds from the spiked collar—and a pang ran through her.

I almost lost him.

But he was fine…and being a bad wolf. She nipped his chin sharp enough to make him jump and allow her to break free and retreat.

A barked laugh came from the bedroom doorway. "Nice escape." Fell sauntered in, dressed in his favorite black, long-sleeved T-shirt and black cargo pants. Pulling her close, he kissed her long and deep, curling his hands under her ass to pull her against him tighter.

Desire hummed through her.

It increased when he ran a finger over the edge of her top, dipping down between her breasts. " Fy nghariad , you'll have me half-hard all night."

Warmed by his calling her sweetheart…and amused, because he was already past half-hard, she nibbled on his jaw. "That's the idea.

"Let's go before we don't get to the party at all." Patrin growled under his breath as he adjusted himself in his jeans. "When we get back, brawd, you pin her down while I feast on her."

"Good plan."

Moya bit her lip to suppress a moan. Great, now she'd be smelling of arousal all damned evening.

After studying the selections, Patrin handed Moya a cabernet, then availed himself of an excellent IPA. One sip and he fell in love with the tangy, hoppy flavor.

Fell, of course, found an almost black porter. No accounting for tastes.

Closed on Mondays, the Shamrock was the perfect place for a private party. Especially since the Cosantir's brother made drool-worthy finger foods to go with an excellent selection of beers. Wines too.

"Moya, over here." Across the room, Eileen was with a group of females. "Join us."

"Coming." Moya turned and smiled at Patrin and Fell. "Are you two going to behave?"

"Hey, we're the most peaceful males in the territory." Patrin tucked his bruised hand behind his back. His knuckles still stung from his…chastisement…of Pavel and Ilya this morning. They now sincerely regretted harassing the werecat.

"Aye, very peaceful." Fell tried to look innocent—and failed completely. The bruise on his jaw might have something to do with it.

Although Moya hadn't seemed to notice.

"Riiight." Moya glanced over at a group of wolves, her gaze lingering on Pavel and Ilya. "Just remember the Cosantir frowns on fighting, okay?" Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him and Fell before crossing the room to the group of females.

"She knows about the fight." Fell's gaze followed her.

"So it seems. I swear she manages to hear about everything going on in town." Because everyone adored the little wolf. How could they not?

"Just the two I wanted to talk with." Holding a bottle of beer, Bron joined them.

Patrin tensed slightly. The Chief of Police had maintained a chilly reserve ever since the trap where she'd killed the Director. "Chief, what can we do for you?"

He'd heard the female was a Canadian Mountie before André talked her into moving here, but unlike other Canadians he'd met, she rarely bothered to be polite, let alone charming. She was at that unidentifiable age between past-childbearing and before death, and the look in her eyes held bitter, hard-won experience.

To his surprise, she smiled. "Now that you're free of the Scythe, I'd like to hire you as police officers."

Standing close enough their shoulders touched, Fell gave Patrin a you-talk-for-us nudge.

All right then. "Of course, we're interested, but honestly, I'm surprised you want us."

"Because you mongrels conducted an operation without telling me? Not your fault. When I asked him about it, Wells admitted it was his decision, and you hadn't agreed."

Patrin wasn't surprised. For being in covert ops and making a living lying, Wells was unflinchingly honest with his team.

"I might run up to Cold Creek to slap some sense into him when he gets comfortable on his paws." Bron's smile held evil amusement. "He's going to be a cat when he shifts."

Fuck . Wells had better watch his whiskers. This female was a cahir—and lethal.

As to the job offer, she needed to know… How could he phrase this? "Were you informed that our activities for the Scythe—and later, the spymaster—didn't always remain within the scope of the law?"

In other words, much of what they'd done was completely illegal.

His brother half-sighed, tipped up a corner of his mouth, and nodded agreement with the admission. Even knowing it ended any chance of a job.

They were both done with lying.

"I'm aware. I'm pleased you aren't trying to cover it up." Bron tilted her head. "I've talked with your fellow shifter-soldiers. They still look to you as their leaders. I hear you took on their punishments, got beaten for trying to intercede, and kept them out of trouble. The Rainier pack is delighted to have you. I like the changes you're making with them, by the way."

Unsure if he was embarrassed or proud, Patrin had to look away.

Fell cleared his throat. "Aren't you already fully staffed?"

"Actually no." She ran her hand through her short black hair in exasperation. "The previous Chief of Police was a verminous weasel, and the human officers were infected with his corrupt attitude. I'm removing them and only keeping Duffy."

Hope rising, Patrin made an interested sound. "I see."

She continued, "During the winter, you'll work fewer hours. Summers, we'll hire part-time, but your hours will be long." She met his gaze straightforwardly and did the same with Fell. "Lads, you risked your lives for Sky. For the clan. I think we can run the trail together."

Gods yes. After getting a nod from Fell, Patrin grinned. "We'd be delighted to work for you."

Her smile transformed her hard face. "Good. Check with your current employers and let me know when you can start."

As she moved away, Patrin looked at Fell. His shocked brother looked as if a pixie had dropped a bush load of flowers over his head. Patrin's expression was probably much the same.

Fell opened his mouth to speak—and then shrugged and bumped Patrin's shoulder.

"Yeah, I know." Patrin couldn't stop smiling. "We'll get to protect rather than kill." Thank the Mother, it was what they'd always wanted.

Movement near the fireplace on the right wall caught his attention.

"Shifters." André stepped up onto the coffee table. "It's good to see you all here. Some of you were captured by the Scythe—and I can think of nothing more terrifying." He looked around, his smile filled with understanding.

Beside Patrin, a young female pulled in a shaky breath. Another one appeared close to tears.

André continued. "We want to thank those of you who fought the Scythe for the last year as well as the ones who fought in Ailill Ridge last week. You risked your lives to save our clan, and it won't be forgotten.

"Tonight, Rainier Territory wants you to have a chance to…decompress." He glanced at Patrin and Fell. Once, when talking to him about living in a barracks, they'd mentioned how it helped the shifter-soldiers to simply talk with others who'd had similar experiences. Killing—and captivity—were impossible to explain to a civilian.

As a result, André got Madoc to host this event and invite only those who'd been through the fires.

André smiled at the shifters. "Tonight you can discuss the battle—or being trapped. This is where you can be open with others who understand. Elsewhere, you'll have to be discreet, especially around humans who were kidnapped with our cubs. They won't remember more than the explosions and blacking out."

The shifters exchanged smiles. A Cosantir's ability to erase memories was one of the Daonain's most protective weapons. And this Cosantir was strong in the ability.

"There are no more Scythe who know about the Daonain. The hunt for them is over." André's smile widened. "Shifter-soldiers, you have our clan's gratitude as you move on with your lives. Come to me—or any Cosantir—if you need help finding your way."

Patrin could tell his fellow shifter-soldiers heard the sincerity in André's voice. A knot in his gut relaxed. His lads would have help if they needed it.

"Along with the ugliness, remember you have already overcome many trials and gained useful skills." André motioned to Patrin and Fell. "As an example—Ailill Ridge is delighted to welcome our two new police officers, Patrin and Fell MacCormac."

The enthusiastic cheers had Fell taking a step back—and surprised Patrin, even as it warmed his heart.

He saw dawning hope on the faces around him. André had known just what he was doing when he said the shifter-soldiers did have valuable skills and used Patrin and Fell as examples.

Madoc stepped up beside his brother, and the coffee table groaned under the bear's hefty weight. "People, the buffet is open." He pointed to the long table. "Let's eat and celebrate!"

A roar from the audience greeted his words.

To find the other shifter-soldiers, Fell followed his littermate to the food. Since years of near starvation taught the captives to eat whenever given a chance, it was the easiest way to find them.

And there they were.

"Yo, Top Dog. Fell."

"Congratulations."

As their comrades gathered around, Fell smiled at them. "Got news for you." He glanced at his littermate.

Patrin took over. "If you haven't checked your bank accounts recently"—which few of them did—"more money came in. With the help of Niall here and Ryder up in the North Cascades, we cleaned out the Colonel's accounts. You should have enough money to give you time to explore where you want to live. To find the right jobs. Even to learn new skills."

The relief on their faces was heartbreaking.

"We even gave Wells a share of this last haul since the North Cascades Cosantir won't allow our spymaster to return to his old job soon, if ever." Patrin grinned. "The spymaster and the Cosantir have already butted heads."

The shifters began laughing, and the comments flew:

"Ha, no one can win against the God's guardian, not even Wells."

"Good to know Wells will have funds. Can you imagine learning to shift at his age?"

"Heard he'll be a werecat—talk about fucking appropriate."

"He deserves the money. Worked harder than we did."

"Tough old buzzard. Glad he's Daonain now."

"Wells took on a Cosantir." Fletcher punched his brother Kennard in the arm. "Grandsire would be laughing his tail off about now."

Kennard's eyes reddened even as he snorted. "Yeah, he would."

After talking for a while, Fell spotted Moya surrounded by pack wolves. Tiny females were sure difficult to spot sometimes.

But there she was. Damned if he could resist the pull. "Brawd, let's go harass a pretty wolf."

"I was looking for her." Patrin followed his gaze. "Ah. Yes, let's go."

The pack members were listening to Ramón who stood beside his quieter brother.

Fell eyed Moya's brothers. As with the hellhound, the two had jumped into the battle when needed. Good males, there. Reliable, courageous.

"And then, since the diner's closed, Maura wanted us to install bigger stoves. After that, she went for a new sink—which meant tearing out another wall." Ramón and his crew were rebuilding the diner.

"Sounds like a fucking mess," Fell said.

"Bron said the SUV outside the diner was filled with explosives." Terence, one of the construction crew, shook his head. "Set off by remote."

"Car bombs." Kane, from the ranch and farm supply store, curled his lip up in a snarl. "Fucking humans."

Moving next to Moya, Fell put an arm around her. Her welcoming smile turned his heart into mush.

Trying not to haul her up and kiss her, he asked her brothers, "You fixing the B we love you. We want you as our lifemate, to carry in our hearts and souls."

The traditional words. Wherever had they learned them?

Speaking slowly, clearly, Fell finished the sentence, "…throughout this life and into the next."

"Let us run together on the trails, hunt and play and sing to the Mother," Patrin said.

Fell's gaze held hers, his blue eyes burning with passion. "Our strength and skills are yours, and we'll gladly give our lives to keep you safe."

She already knew they would.

And then, Fell added something so much harder for him. "I'll talk and share my worries—and be there when you need someone to listen."

"I'll never push you through the bonds—although coaxing with words, oh yeah." Patrin's grin flashed before his voice turned rough with emotion. "You're already in our hearts. Your hands carry all our hopes."

They waited, her patient, experienced hunters, as she struggled to find her breath.

"Yes." The word came out sounding like a strangled werecat, and she tried again. "Yes, yes, I will be your lifemate. I love you both, so, so much."

The room exploded with cheering and whistles, Ramón's and Zorion's yells louder than the rest.

But her whole world narrowed to the two most wonderful males in all the world.

She dropped to her knees between them, one arm around each neck, almost choking them until they squashed her between them.

Patrin's hard fingers curled around her chin, holding her as he firmly kissed her, sending her off into a world of emotion. After sliding the lifemating bracelet onto her wrist, he turned her into Fell's arms.

" Cariad aur ," Fell whispered. "I love you." He kissed her, his lips and tongue heating her to the core, sending desire to accompany the love. Gripping her wrist gently, he added his lifemating bracelet to Patrin's, showing to all the world that she was theirs.

Her fears of being trapped, of being forced to be with someone were gone. These two amazing males were her choice—the right choice. The bonds between them were strengthening, growing thicker and warmer. Lifemating bonds—and she welcomed them with all her heart.

With hope in his gaze, Fell handed her two male-sized bracelets.

"Yes." Perfect—because the wolf in her was feeling extremely territorial.

"Mine," she said to Patrin, putting the bracelet on his wrist. Setting her hands on each side of his face, she kissed him and repeated, "Mine."

"Yours," he agreed in a purring growl.

Turning to Fell, she leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around her as she worked the bracelet over his hand to his thickly muscled wrist. Tilting her head up, she met his gaze. "For as long as life shall last and long beyond, I'll be your lifemate. You are mine. All mine."

Fell's smile was almost blinding. "And you are ours, little wolf. For this life and into the next."