22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Alas, Greg was fully clothed when we left Rosie's. It was probably for the best; his naked form was good enough to start riots. When we arrived back at the mansion, Finley immediately disappeared to go and ‘rescue breakfast', as he muttered.

I wasn't quite ready to face Kearns. ‘I'm going to see Ares,' I said to Greg. ‘You want to find Kearns? Subtly?'

‘I'm on it,' he promised. ‘Bastion is due any minute so I'll wait for his arrival before I do anything.'

‘Good idea.' Feeling much lighter, I kissed him fleetingly. I'd been dragging that mate stuff around my neck for weeks and I felt so much happier knowing it was sorted. He was mine! And I was his. Soon, it would be official – the full moon was tonight.

YOU ASKED HIM TO BE YOUR MATE? Esme shrieked in my head. Why wasn't this the first thing you told me? she demanded, outraged .

I laughed a little. You deserved a little delay for all your meddling.

Meddle? She sniffed. I didn't meddle.

Uh-huh. And I'm not a Queen.

Her tone when she spoke was puzzled. You are, though. You have a crown and everything.

It's called sarcasm.

When you say a thing you don't mean, as if you do mean it?

That's the one.

A very odd tradition, she growled.

The point is, Greg and I are engaged to be mated. I'll announce it tonight.

I'm so pleased. Why you were so duck-headed about the whole thing I do not know.

Pig-headed, I corrected for the millionth time.

Duck-headed works better. Their brains are small. Pigs are clever.

Ouch.

She shot me a wolfy grin. I am getting good at smack-talk, am I not?

Very good, I laughed. If anything, too good. I tapped the still-invisible crown on my head. Terrance, are you good to keep my clothes when I shift?

Of course, Your Majesty, he confirmed warmly.

Wonderful. Thank you.

We let the shift roll over us and then we were on four. The colours of the world were muted but the smells were sharper as we trotted towards Nina on the way to visiting Ares and Ivy.

The morning weather was bright and the loners were out in force, eating breakfast together on the grounds around Nina. I'd have to speak to her about her building a room big enough for them to dine together.

Perhaps because of their time lone, they now seemed desperate to spend time together as a group; maybe they felt there was safety in numbers but I suspected it was something more. There was a deep-seated need to belong to a pack, and now that I'd brought them together the loners had almost inadvertently formed their own pack. The only problem was that they needed their own alpha, and none of them fit the bill.

I thought again of Clark Farrier: his past would make him ideal for the role. I'd approach him again after he'd had a little while to get used to the idea of coming out of hiding. If I dealt the Domini a blow or two, maybe he'd seriously consider it.

Laughter caught our ears and we looked around to see the cause of it. Reid, our little lone toddler, was in fits of laughter as Debbie, the alpha of the Derby pack, pulled silly faces at him. Nearby his mother Nova was watching with a soft smile on her face. I mentally gave several points to Debbie; he was definitely good people.

We trotted through the dewy grass, scenting unicorn on the air, then followed our nose. Ares gave us a happy whicker as he spotted us but Ivy instinctively stepped closer to him. Sadness pulled at both Esme's and my hearts and, in total agreement, we shifted back onto two. ‘It's just us,' I said softly to Ivy.

Now we were in our human form, the skittish foal gave a happy neigh and trotted closer. I dug out a mint from my pocket and held one out to her and one to Ares. Both unicorns took my meagre offerings gratefully.

I greeted them both, stroking their fur and watching indulgently while Ivy gambolled happily at our feet. She might still be a little wary of werewolves but at least she was no longer terrified of us.

She was happy with Ares and that was something. The sharp bite of loneliness was gone from her; her grief at the loss of her mother was ever-present but a little fainter, like a painting viewed through gauze. The grief would probably always be there but it wouldn't be quite so raw with the passage of time. The loss of her mother would always cut, but at least Ares would make her a fine father figure .

It brought to mind the loss of my own parents and I sat on the grass next to the unicorns and let myself feel it. Nina's gift of my childhood memories had been a two-edged sword: much as I delighted in having the many memories back in sharper detail than any ordinary three-year-old child would have, they also made me grieve in a way that I hadn't been able to do before.

I knew my birth parents now. Lucas and Maria had loved me, and they'd raised me in a warm and loving home full of laughter and joy. I'd been their only child and they had revelled in me, lavishing attention on me whenever I wanted it. Without the need to balance other children's requirements, most of the time I'd got what I wanted when I wanted it.

I'd had a very privileged few years and I could recognise a lot of ways in which they had contributed to my adult self. My bossiness probably came from those early days: my parents had often capitulated to their tyrannical two-year-old, and from a young age I'd learned how to get what I wanted. But oh, how I'd wanted to please them, bringing them bright scrawl after bright scrawl, declaring this mass of scribbled colours was a unicorn or that was a butterfly. And they had gasped and oohed and aahed over every piece .

My eyes were hot, and the tears started to fall before I could stop them. ‘You'd love Greg,' I sniffled aloud to my long-dead parents. ‘I'm sorry you never got to meet him.'

Ares nuzzled my shoulder; he didn't understand where my grief was coming from, but he knew I was sad and he was sorry about that. I swiped at my eyes and told myself to get a grip then patted his lowered neck. ‘I'm okay,' I said softly. ‘Just wistful.'

Ivy nuzzled me as well and I had the feeling that she was sending me a hug. Young as she was, she also knew about sadness. I cuddled her. ‘Thank you,' I murmured.

She sent me a picture of me in fur – human me in fur. It made me snicker, but I understand what she wanted so we shifted onto four. To my surprise, she didn't shy away; instead, she sat down next to us and looped her neck round us in a hug. It was a huge sign of trust, a trust I would never betray.

Ares stood to attention at the other side of us, on guard so that we could relax and cuddle. He was such a cute, deadly, carnivorous unicorn.

Eventually I had to get to my feet and reluctantly say goodbye to my equine friends. I had things to do, magical artefacts to find and murderous bastards to interrogate.

A Queen's work was never done.