Nestled in the dip between a pair of hills that were almost big enough to call mountains was her future. Surrounded by the perfect number of trees to provide a bit of shade while still allowing enough sunlight for flowers and a garden, this place was the balm her soul needed.
It was perfect with its weathered slate roof, whitewashed walls, and bright red door and shutters. Off to one side of it squatted a small thatch-roofed building that Keeva had called a barn, but that was a stretch even though it did have a set of double doors and was shaped like every barn Calia had ever seen.
Behind the cottage, within walking distance, was supposed to be a stream that would be perfect for sitting beside and letting the sound of the trickling water do its best to lessen the tension, raging grief, and angst that had been her constant companions ever since her precious little Gillian had lost her valiant battle with cancer.
The ending of her marriage had been little more than an annoyance at having to untangle eight years that never should have happened, but losing her daughter had nearly killed her. Calia swallowed hard and blinked against the stinging threat of tears that still crept up on her when she least expected it.
Breathing deeply to regain control, she parked the car in front of the barn, then reached over and unclipped Otto. “I’m trusting you to stay close. Right? Don’t wander off and make me regret this.” He took every step she did whenever they were indoors, and he’d always done really well in Tennessee. She hoped it continued. After an affectionate pat on his head, she leaned over and hugged him. “Stay close. I need you.”
Otto gave her a soft woof and licked her cheek.
Calia hoped that was his solemn doggie promise to do as she asked. She exited the car, walked around to his side, and held her breath as she opened the door. With his floppy ears perked as close to their adult German Shepherd points as possible, he hopped out of the vehicle and moved around the front yard with the leeriness and stealth of an armed guard securing a safe house. The goofy exuberance of his puppy years fell away, leaving behind a serious bodyguard.
“And now to carry in everything I didn’t ship ahead of time.”
After several trips to the car and piling even more bags and containers around the shipping boxes stacked in the cozy living area, she called Otto inside and flopped down on the overstuffed couch that was perfect for flopping. The set of glass patio doors across the room looked out on a lovely yet barely sprouting garden of what Calia hoped would soon grow into flowers that were hard to kill. She loved puttering in the garden, but wasn’t always successful at it. Movement just beyond some sort of evergreen bush beside the gate made her squint to see what sort of animal might be stopping by to say hello to the new owner. She found that surprising since Otto had just done a thorough survey of the area.
Since the pup was currently in the kitchen, emptying his food bowl, she eased off the couch without a sound and moved closer to the doors. The longer she watched an evergreen that was sorely in need of pruning, the more she made out the pair of icy blue eyes she had seen before. Had the stray made his way all the way up here to her cottage? She stared harder, then shook her head. No, there wasn’t anything there. She must be hallucinating because she was so tired. She blinked, and the eyes disappeared.
Otto joined her and didn’t growl, just flicked an ear, then yawned. His reaction convinced her she was just imagining things. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. She worried about that stray going hungry or not having a warm, dry place to stay for the night. Mairwen’s lack of concern about Wolf bothered her. What if the rest of the villagers felt the same about that poor dog whose eyes took hold of your heart and pulled you in?
“We could give him a place to stay, couldn’t we, Otto?” Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. Not with Otto’s reaction to the big black dog. But she felt sure they could make it work. Somehow.
She returned to the couch and lay back down. Unpacking could wait until tomorrow. In fact, unpacking could wait until whenever she felt like it. As long as Otto was fed and taken care of, she wasn’t tethered to anyone’s whims or needs but her own. That was a strange feeling, and she wasn’t all that sure she liked it. Always one for order, structure, and looking out for others, she didn’t know how to act when no one needed anything from her—no one except Otto.
Her loyal companion stretched lengthwise beside her on the roomy couch and rested his head on her middle. She’d never need a blanket as long as Otto was around. A hint of thunder softly rumbled off in the distance, and a gentle rain pattered on the slate roof. Warmed by the dog that, stretched out, was nearly as long as her five-foot-eleven frame, the soothing sounds of the afternoon storm lulled her into a boneless laziness that hovered somewhere between hardcore sleeping and dozing with her eyes barely open.
“I am coming for ye, lass,” whispered a heart-stoppingly deep voice with a rich Scottish brogue. “Dinna be afraid.”
Her eyes flew open, and she wished she hadn’t given up the pistol she’d carried before she’d resigned from the FBI. She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. She went as still as a helpless rabbit caught in a fox’s line of sight. Straining to hear any signs of an intruder, she lifted her head the barest bit and peered over the pile of pillows squished between her and the back of the couch.
Otto shifted against her and groaned in his sleep, but didn’t make any effort to rise. That made her feel somewhat better. If anyone was in the house, surely the dog would’ve heard them. Especially when they’d whispered so loudly. It had sounded right next to her ear. As a matter of fact, the warmth of their breath had brushed across her cheek.
But again, no one was there. She touched that side of her face and breathed easier. It had to be the jet lag and stress of this monumental upheaval to move to Scotland. With a conscious effort to calm herself and relax back into the cushions, she closed her eyes again and focused on Otto’s soft but reassuring snores while combing her fingers through his thick fur. “We’re going to be all right, my friend. I promise.”
Otto snored louder, making her smile. At least one of them was adapting with a little bit of ease.
Chapter
Three
Hidden just behind the hedgerow, Mathison remained motionless until he was certain the woman slept again.
“Calia,” his wolf corrected. Dubh’s thoughts were amplified since he currently controlled their form. “Our mate’s name is Calia—and we should not have spoken to her. We frightened her.”
“I forgot the old one gave her the amulet so she could understand us, no matter our shape.” It had taken every bit of magic he possessed to cloak both his scent and his wolf, so her animal wouldn’t detect him. Such an expenditure of energy had wearied him to the point of carelessness. It would not happen again. A twinge of jealousy rippled through him at the sight of the mongrel stretched out beside her.
“She likes him because she is lonely. She has no inner being to keep her company and fight at her side.”
Mathison couldn’t imagine such an existence. He had known his wolf his entire life, which brought him to the same question that had niggled at him ever since Mairwen had told him his fated mate was a mortal. “Since she possesses no spirit animal, what will ye do?” With shifters, not only did their human spirits bond, but their wolf spirits as well. It was a glorious completion for all.
“I canna say for certain.” His wolf’s long pause let Mathison know that the matter weighed heavily on his inner beast’s mind as well. “Would it not be much like mating with a latent?”
“But a latent still has a wolf. They simply never take control of the form.”
“There is more to her than we have yet to discover,” Dubh said. “I dinna understand it, but I feel it. I dinna think I will be lonely.”
Mathison felt it too, and it troubled him no small amount. There was indeed a great deal more to learn about this enticing mortal. Such as how had she come to possess such an irresistible pull, such an impossible-to-ignore magnetism? As a Defender, he’d heard much about the fated mate bond whose love healed the tapestry of the blessed Highland Veil. Many stories existed about the bond’s strength and power, but never had he imagined it could take him over with such ferocity.
