“I canna bear any more of that. If ye eat another bite of it, I’ll be sending it right back out.”
“Fair enough.” Mathison didn’t think he could stomach any more of the stuff either. He nosed the bowl closer to Calia, then backed up a pace, hoping to make the message clear without making the mistake of speaking directly to her.
She rewarded him with another rub of his head, took away the bowl, then rummaged in one of the oversized crates stacked beside her couch. “Thank goodness they labeled the boxes. There’s a blanket in here with your name on it.”
“She knows yer name?”
“I think she meant that in jest.” Even though mortals in this realm spoke the same language, he’d noticed that the things they said often possessed a myriad of meanings.
“Here we are.” She brought over a thick plaid blanket, folding it thrice to make a fine pallet not too far from the woodstove. With that smile of hers that could coax him through the very gates of hell, she patted it. “Come on. You can lie here. It’ll be softer than directly on the floor.”
Mathison eased over to the blanket and settled down on it, but remained tense enough to spring into action at a moment’s notice. It was so difficult not to speak directly to her, to thank her for her intended kindness. This woman cared and loved, but would she still do so when she knew him for what he truly was?
“You have the most beautiful eyes.” She held his head between her hands, rendering him helpless with her touch. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “You always have a home with me. Never forget that.”
As if he could. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the hammering of his heart. She was the one, but to win her, he would have to proceed with the greatest of care. Instinct told him that the fated mate bond alone would not guarantee her acceptance of him. Something akin to a whine escaped him.
“It’ll be all right,” she said, and for some reason, he felt as if she was trying to reassure herself rather than him. “It’ll be all right.”
He struggled not to respond, knowing she would hear him and become frightened all over again. To maintain control, he broke eye contact and rested his head on the floor between his paws.
“I’m tired too.” She stroked his head, scratched behind his ears, and ran her fingers through the thick ruff that shielded his neck from attack. Yawning, she went to the garden door and almost closed it. “I’m leaving it cracked so you can shove it open if you decide you want to leave.”
“She is fearless,” Dubh said. “Even without guards, she leaves the door open so that anyone might enter.”
“We will not allow anyone near her.”
“No, we will not.”
“Goodnight, handsome Wolf with the beautiful eyes,” she said as she slipped into the bedroom. “Get back, Otto. If he’s still here in the morning, we’ll have a closely supervised meet and greet.”
“What is a closely supervised meet and greet?” Dubh asked.
“I believe she intends for us to interact directly with her ally.”
His wolf snorted. Mathison felt the same, but they needed to make Otto their ally as well. Calia loved that dog. They had no choice but to befriend him.
Mairwen eased open the door from the garden, surveying the peaceful scene of Mathison in his wolf form, uneasily stretched across the blanket, where he tried to appear appreciative of his accommodations. He opened his eyes and glared at her as she stepped into the room. “Ye seem to have done well, mighty chieftain, even though she possesses the amulet.”
“Why did ye give that to her?”
“To protect her. The Ninth Realm is fraught with danger for her. There, she will be able to hear every shifter speak, whether it is directed at her or not, as long as she wears the medallion.” Mairwen drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The rainy night possessed a chill. Or perhaps it was the risk of what she was about to suggest. There were more dangers than mere prejudice waiting in the Realm for this unsuspecting woman, but she hesitated to mention them. “Yer Calia will have to learn how to use the amulet wisely as well as how to silence it.”
After a glance at the closed door across the room, Mathison rose to all fours. “And how will she learn that?”
“Ye will teach her. Once ye cross over to the Ninth Realm.” Mairwen fisted her hand and raised it higher. “She must clutch it thusly while thinking for it to aid her. When she is safe once again, she should release it and let it rest upon the bare flesh of her throat.” Misgivings troubling her, Mairwen pressed her fist to her heart. “It will not be easy to teach her anything in the Ninth Realm because yer Calia believes in nothing but what she can see and touch.” She shook her head, the memory of the woman saying those words reinforcing her sadness. “Her pain has numbed her to the sweet music of magic and the unexplainable.”
“What have yer cards told ye, old one? Will I succeed in this quest? Will the walls she hides behind come tumbling down?”
“My cards have shown me hope.” Mairwen wished she could tell him more, but the tarot deck had remained firm on that count. “That is why, once she is settled, ye must meet her in yer human form.” She shrugged. “Yer wolf has won her. Time for ye to win her as well.”
“Settled?”
Mairwen shrugged. “I agree. As restless as she is with the upheaval of her life and her fated mate so close, ’tis doubtful she will ever truly be settled. Tomorrow, we will do more.” What that more was remained elusive at the moment, but she would think of something. “Be listening for my call and dinna speak to her through the amulet any further, ye ken? Ye frightened her.”
“Anymore spying and I’ll be hiking my leg on yer watchers, old one. I dinna stomach spies well.”
“My watchers enable me to help ye by showing me what happens.” Mairwen nodded at the closed bedroom door. “And befriend that animal of hers. She is quite fond of her Otto.”
