Chapter 7

"Ican't believe they're gone."

Ursa, the Russian bear shifter I was currently tattooing, took a large swallow from the bottle of homebrewed moonshine he clutched like a lifeline.

"I hadn't realized how hard certain areas were hit by the death rattle. I thought it spread slowly and wasn't always fatal."

Ursa snorted before taking another gulp. "That's what they always say. It decimated Aurora Springs. It wiped out half the town. My pack didn't stand a chance."

I hummed in acknowledgment, but was too focused on the line I was inking into his skin to comment further. This was not one of my magical tattoos, but for Ursa, it was every bit as special. He'd asked for the North Star MC patch to be tattooed across his back. A memorial tattoo as much as it was a lifetime commitment to his brothers.

"I never wanted to be Prez. Never thought this would be the only way the North Stars go on." He took another swallow, the movement forcing me to lift my gun off his skin while he downed a third of the bottle in one go. "I'm the last remaining North Star. Ivan!" He shouted into the void, his voice echoing off the walls of the study I'd commandeered for this session. "I will avenge you! I will rebuild and carry on our legacy. I will..." The man broke down sobbing and hung his head.

"How can you avenge a plague victim?" I muttered under my breath. Soap? Vaccines? Short of eradicating the germs themselves, it seemed a pretty futile promise. But that was Ursa's problem.

"They were good men, you know? Brave. Fierce. Loyal. Too good for this earth." He hoisted the moonshine up high, making me bite off a curse as he shifted away from my needle once more. "May your ride through the stars be eternal!"

"Sit still, Ursa. I'm nearly finished. Then you can rattle the windows with your mourning all you want."

He took another long swallow before setting the bottle on the floor near his booted foot. "Continue," he grumbled.

Twenty minutes later, I was finished, and Ursa was wasted. I envied him the oblivion. I hadn't seen Dahlia but for a few stolen moments between food deliveries and proof-of-life check-ins in three damn days. I understood she needed to work. The muse was talking to her, and she'd hit her stride on her manuscript. She was determined to finish it before the end of the year. That meant the four of us were giving her the space she needed to work her magic. Even if it made us all edgy.

There may no longer be a murderous madman on the loose, but the need to protect and watch over her was instinctual. It would never truly subside, even if we were technically in a time of peace. The next threat could be lurking around the corner, and if we stayed vigilant, we wouldn't be caught with our trousers down.

I finished up the last of the shading before turning off the tattoo gun and sitting back to inspect my work. Goddess, I was good. I wiped down the excess blood and ink, smiling to myself as the slight hint of magic within the ink shimmered in the light. For works like this one, I only allowed the tiniest glimmer of my power to ensure the art never faded.

"All right, my friend. You're done. You honored your fallen comrades today. You should be proud."

Ursa got to his feet and glanced over his shoulder at his broad back in the mirror.

Clapping me on the shoulder, he trained his focus on me with watery eyes. "I'll never forget this, dragon. If you ever need aid, call on the North Stars." Then he snagged his bottle of moonshine and thrust it at me. "Drink!"

"Oh, I'm fine. More of a Scotch guy myself."

"Drink!" he insisted.

There was the slightest hint of a grizzly's growl in the command, and while I had no doubt that my dragon trumped his bear, I wasn't really in the mood to go a round or two with a drunk Russian anything.

Accepting the bottle from him, I took a swig, wincing at the burn down my throat. Potent didn't begin to cover it. The fumes alone were enough to singe the hair in my nostrils, and being a fire-breathing monster, that was saying something.

"Do svidaniya, Kai," he slurred before he stumbled into the doorframe and apologized to it.

I had a bottle of liquid fire in my hand and an uncomfortable urge to go find my mate when I knew she needed me to give her space. So that meant I'd take myself outside for some fresh air and perhaps drink myself into a state of relaxation.

With that goal in mind, I made my way outside, my long strides making easy work of the journey. It wasn't long at all before I found myself on the edge of the forest beside what had once been a kitchen garden. Now it was little more than unkempt weeds, but it did still create a striking picture in the spring when it was in bloom.

I took a pull from the bottle but stopped when I saw a bright flash of light out of the corner of my eye. Then another. And another.

"You can do it, Blossom! Flap your wings faster!" Jax's voice caught on the wind and had me turning toward the sound.

"Don't rush her. She'll come to it in her own time." This was Liam. He stood on the post of a rotting wooden gate with a squirming shimmer in his arms.

"My turn, Da! Fancy go next!" The tiny baby pixie cried.

I'd forgotten how fast these little Scottish pixies grew. It seemed the smaller the fae, the faster they matured. I'd known human-sized ones who aged at the same rate I did. Magic was a wondrous thing indeed.

Knowing this was likely a once in a lifetime occurrence, I remained quiet and still so I could watch the wee little ones learn how to fly. It was really quite something.

"There you go, Nova! Just like that," Owen crowed.

"Me next! Me next!" another shimmer insisted, this one a male with a shock of black hair.

Rhys wore a smile that only a proud papa could manage. It was a combination of exhaustion, exasperation, and adoration. "Do you promise not to tackle your sister again?"

"Aye!" the little one swore, already squirming out of his father's arms.

"All right then, Clarence. Careful now. That's a good lad."

Grinning to myself, I took a deep swig of the moonshine. Familiarity did not seem to breed any sort of immunity, because I immediately started coughing, drawing the attention of four very fierce daddies.

Each of them drew a sword from sheathes at their sides, though the tiny wee blades would do nothing to me aside from perhaps cause the equivalent of a few paper cuts.

"Easy," I said, holding up my hands to show I meant no harm.

Owen's hand trembled slightly, betraying his fear. "What's a great oaf like you doing spying on us?"

"Yeah, come to finish what you started, have you? Well, you're not going to harm our shimmers. I'll poke out your eyes before you can blink," Jax threatened, handing his shimmer to Rhys and fluttering near my face.

"Calm down, ye wee beastie," I grumbled, swatting him away. "I'm only enjoying the air. I'm not here to cause any trouble."

"Then perhaps it's best you get tae walking," Liam said with a pointed lift of his tiny brow.

"We saw you flying through the night, laying waste to the grounds beyond that hill. Don't come near our shimmers." Rhys frowned, his stance protective, wings fluttering with agitation.

"I have no intention of harming your bairns. Or you, for that matter."

"Maybe we'd be more inclined to believe you, dragon, if you dinnae try to burn down our home." That was from Owen, who seemed to have recovered from his initial fear.

"Erm, I suppose I do owe you a bit of an apology for that," I muttered, rubbing a hand along the back of my head.

"You think?" Jax was spilling pixie dust in a column of gold glitter, and I had to take a step back to ensure he didn't accidentally dose me.

"If you'll allow me, I'll help you rebuild your home."

"And how do you plan to do that? Are you a woodcarver in your spare time?"

I'd dabbled a fair bit, but actually had something else in mind. "You'll see. But you will have to trust me."

Liam laughed. "It'll be a cold day in the deadlands before I trust a dragon without proof he won't roast us. Prove yourself trustworthy, and we'll revisit that topic."

"Da! More flutters!" Blossom screeched, whacking her father in the face.

Another of the shimmers began to cry and squirm, and I realized this was my opportunity to get away from this conversation.

"Looks like you're being summoned, lads. Good luck with the flying lessons."

They didn't respond, nor did I expect them to. I was hardly their favorite person, and the children had already commanded their attention. The interaction had left me feeling a bit out of sorts. Or maybe that was the moonshine.

It had to be the strongest alcohol I'd ever ingested. Despite only having a few sips, the tips of my nose and fingers were tingling, and the ground went a bit spongy every time I took a step.

As I crested the hill, my gaze raked the decimated valley below. Scorch marks and burned husks that were once trees littered the scene, but my attention was drawn to the inky black stain on the bare patch of earth where I'd sent the Ripper to meet his maker.

Dark satisfaction sizzled through my veins. There was no guilt or remorse over what I'd done. I'd do it all over again if I could. The bastard had deserved to die for his crimes, but he'd deserved to suffer for what he'd done to my mate. I'd never regret avenging her. If I could've, I would've taken him to my tower and tortured him slowly, given Tor, Hades, and Hook the opportunity to participate. But I couldn't allow him the chance to escape.

As if the thought summoned the man, Tor stalked through the trees, blood and gore smeared across his body. The second his eyes landed on me, his posture relaxed.

"I thought I heard something," he said by way of greeting.

"I'm assuming your hunt was a success?"

"It always is," he said with a feral grin.

"Well done."

He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his chin toward the place where the Ripper had died. "All of us would've done the same. He put his hands on her."

"I know."

"Then why are you out here with a bottle of booze? You can't possibly be feeling remorse."

"Nae, not remorse. I didn't realize this was where I was headed when I started walking, but I guess I needed to see it for myself one more time."

Tor lifted a brow, silently encouraging me to finish my thought.

"He's gone, but it still feels... unsettled here."

At that, he dipped his chin in a slow nod. "Aye. I feel it too."

"Cas would say it was the spirits of the forest."

"Cas barely knows his arse from his elbow on a good day. I'm far more interested in what you think and feel."

I took a pull from the moonshine and grimaced, wondering if smoke was curling from my nostrils. "I feel like something is off. Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Tor nodded again, his eyes scanning the trees around us as if sussing out a hidden enemy. "I always feel that way. Glad to know it's not just me for once."

"Do you think it's this place, or is there something else looming on the horizon?"

Tor shrugged, and there was something about the motion, covered in blood as he was, that made the act sinister. "Why can't it be both? Blackwood is a dark place with a darker past. Seems likely it will bear witness to more foul deeds in its lifetime."

"You might be right."

I handed him the bottle and stared off into the trees as he took a swig, delighting in the cough that came from him because it made me feel like less of a lightweight.

"What is this swill?" he said through a cough.

"Moonshi—" I began, but my words died on my tongue as a man identical to the Tor I'd known before his curse had taken him manifested a few feet from us.

Tor gasped in shock, his posture stiffening beside me as the blond man approached, expression a mixture of betrayal and relief.

"Alek?"

He stopped directly in front of Tor and simply said, "Hello, brother."