Calia stepped up beside him, keeping Otto behind her. “Forgive him. Haven’t your young ones ever made poor decisions?”
Calia understood the wildcat’s animal spirit, too? How was that possible? It had to be the mate bond, because not all shifter clans could understand those that were not of their kind.
The wildcat female appeared to think it strange as well, for she shifted her golden-eyed gaze from Mathison to Calia, then back to Mathison again. “Who is this taobh a-muigh?” she rumbled with a softer growl as she lifted her nose and sniffed. “Her scent is…different.” Then her eyes narrowed.
“She is no outsider. She is my mate, and her animal is under my protection.”
“Then teach her animal some manners.”
“I believe your child already took care of that,” Calia said, her hand still tight on Otto’s harness—just in case.
“I dinna back down from anyone or anything,” the young wildcat hissed, darting around its mother.
“Grenzie!” Mother wildcat cuffed the kitten back in place behind her, then turned back to Calia. “I am Abicas, mate of Othorn, and daughter of Chieftainess Yellis.”
“I am Calia, mate of the Wraith, and daughter of no one.”
Mathison tensed, not only because Calia had no kin of her own, but because he knew her wolf had warned her not to use his true name since the curse was still intact. It would only do more harm than good. He also wasn’t quite certain what would happen to her if he seemed to disappear in a cloud of mist that made Abicas think he’d left his mate unprotected. Wildcat shifters were known to be unpredictable and switch alliances as often as the wind changed direction.
Abicas eased closer, studying Calia as if sizing her up for battle. “Daughter of no one?”
“Abandoned at birth.”
The wildcat shifter tipped a thoughtful nod before turning to Mathison. “Many will soon join yer ranks at Wraith Tower. The Shadowmists and their witch are restless. None of the clans understands why. The chieftainesses and their chieftains have been advised to report any actions out of the ordinary that occur in the kingdom to Clan Shadowmist or face the consequences. They were warned that only Clan Shadowmist possesses the royal blood right to protect the Realm, and any other clan that dares overstep its authority would regret the day it was created by the goddesses.”
“So noted.” Mathison wouldn’t inquire further nor show any interest in the matter. At least, not with the wildcat shifter. One never knew when something might be bait for a trap. “We shall continue our journey with caution.”
“As we shall continue ours,” Abicas said with a twitch of her blunt, black-ringed tail. Once again, she glared at Otto and flattened her ears. “And might I suggest ye keep that one closer. Few are as generous and patient as I.”
Mathison recognized that for the load of shite that it was. The wildcat shifter was not only outnumbered, but all in the Realm feared the mysterious, powerful Wraith. The curse might have stolen his identity, but it had not muted his magic or his warrior prowess. “Go in peace. May the Highland Veil stay strong and protect ye.”
Abicas flicked her tufted ears. “Aye, may the Highland Veil watch over ye as well.”
Calia stared after the pair of wildcats long after they had faded into an overgrown thicket of saplings. “I don’t like her,” she said, “and not just because her offspring ripped open Otto’s nose. Intuition wasn’t impressed with her either. She said she smelled like a lie.”
Mathison had picked up on the scent of untruths as well. “Wildcat shifters side with whatever and whoever benefits them and theirs most.”
“So, she could be a spy for Bansys or your sons? Or that other witch Mairwen mentioned?”
“It is possible.”
Calia dropped to one knee and hugged Otto close once more. “Then what do we do?”
“Continue on our way with as much or more vigilance than before.” He returned the parcel of herbs and skin of water to their place on his saddle. “We canna cower. The Ninth Realm is fraught with dangers.” He went to her and offered his hand to urge her to her feet. “If ye wish to go to Seven Cairns, there is no way to avoid them.”
“I need my pictures of Gillian.” She held tightly to his hand as if needing his touch as much as he needed hers—and he was glad of it. “And Mairwen said the amulet will help us. It sounded important that we have it.”
“It did at that.” He hadn’t realized the wolfstone possessed such power, but if the old one swore it did, then it did. He pulled Calia into a hug and held her, resting his cheek on the silkiness of her head. “Come, mo chridhe. We need to get farther before nightfall. We’ve much ground to cover.”
Otto huddled against them, whining as he darted fearful glances all around, the whites of his eyes flashing in the forest’s gloom. When Calia returned to her mount and launched herself up into her saddle, he cried out and howled.
“Just stay close, Otto,” she said, but her tone held no reassurance, and Mathison sensed it would only upset the frightened pup even more. “Stay close, okay?”
The dog pierced the air with another whining howl. When she dismounted, he dove into her arms, nearly knocking her to the ground.
“What am I going to do? He’s too afraid to walk.”
The helpless pleading in her eyes was nearly Mathison’s undoing. They should never have left Wraith Tower. He eyed the mongrel. There was more going on here than Otto being afraid because he’d gotten his nose split. The dog sensed that something was wrong, just as Mathison did. The wee hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Trouble was afoot, and it was close.
