“If a boy does not find his mate among the females before nine, then it is understood his mate is among the males, and he won’t know until he reaches eighteen summers.”
“What happens to the females who don’t find a mate? Are they among the females?” Viper scowled at a warrior commander who came too close, and shifted his stance to block the man’s view of Ward.
“They usually turn out to be our magical shields, and sometimes find their mates, either male or female,” Trace said, “and typically appear on a year that’s a multiple of three.”
“I’m thirty-six.” He figured there was no reason to hide his age; someone would think to ask him at some point. “That’s a multiple of three. Is that why this is happening to me?”
“No, no,” Fionn said, walking toward them. “If you do not find your mate at nine, then your mate is among the adult males. It is when you come close to them that the bond snaps into place.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Viper once again put himself in between Ward and the implication of a threat. “Don’t give your warriors any ideas, Mac Cumhaill.”
“What you see here is tradition in full swing,” Fionn spoke to Viper, but his eyes locked onto Ward. “You have been sworn in as one of our clans. You all must follow our laws on this.”
“I don’t want or need a mate.”
“You have one in this room.” Fionn waved his massive arm in a sweeping gesture that took in the rows of warriors. “To deny your mate mark means a painful death as that mark,” he gestured to where Ward scratched at his wrist, “will eat you alive from the inside out.”
“No mark will eat him from the inside out.” Viper ripped off his wrist computer and gloves. “He has a mate—me.”
“Wha—” His mind had had enough. Ward spiraled into overload as his eyes rolled back in his head and everything went blank.
CHAPTER TEN
Viper caughtWard before he hit the flagstones, one arm around his waist, the other steadying his neck with a gentleness that no one alive had ever accused him of possessing. The moment their skin touched, the blue markings on Ward’s arms flared in response, burning faint but undeniable against pale skin. It was like watching fate scrawl his name in real time up the other man’s skin. “Shit,” he breathed, sinking to one knee and cradling Ward like he mattered more than he’d had ever intended to reveal.
Sutherland—no, not Sutherland—Ward was more than the civilian they’d stumbled over in the cave—the brainiac liability with a PhD in dead languages and zero sense of survival instinct. But somewhere between surviving a volcanic hellscape and landing sword-deep in Irish myth, something had shifted.
No—everything has shifted.
Fuck me. Now what do I do?
Images of Trace and Juice when their bond had flared into life flashed into his mind. He only had their experience to go by: “Ifone of us is going to turn into a wolf, I’m gonna need more than a hot minute to wrap my head around it.” He didn’t want to be dictated to by fate or whatever force existed in this place. When he was attracted to someone, he wanted it to be of his own free will, damn it.
“You cannot turn into a wolf when you do not have the blood of the hounds of the Fianna.” Fionn laid a hand on his shoulder. “Come, bring your Grá Croí.”
Viper had known something was different the moment Fionn’s hand slammed over his chest on that battlefield. That moment when he’d thrown himself into the path of a blade meant for the High King and spilled blood on ancient earth, Fionn had touched him and whispered,You are Fianna now.The words had been simple, but the power that followed hadn’t been. It had been a surge, a pulse, a rewriting of his goddamn soul, and then it began.
First, the tattoos, then the heat, the hypersensitivity to the land, and finally, something else he’d been too busy trying to keep everyone alive to figure out. He hadn’t known what it was at first, not really. Only that every time Ward spoke, he felt something similar to a tether tightening. A pull deeper than loyalty, and sharper than duty, had ever felt before. But when Ward’s blood hit that ritual stone and the runes lit up brighter than any of the others, he’d started to figure it out. The bond Trace and Juice had spoken of wasn’t theoretical anymore; it was branded on his soul. What had confirmed the kind of bond—all those fucking warriors lining up like vultures to get close to Ward.
Fionn led him to an antechamber off the main hall, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “It began on the battlefield,” he confirmed what Viper’s thoughts were softly, “when I marked you. The Gods of the Fianna welcomed you, andin doing so, this land claimed you. But the bond you feel—it is older than our rites. It’s older than the Veil. It chose you and him as meant to be long before time existed at all.”
Fucking hell, Dare, you really stepped in the shit this time.
What happened to good old-fashioned dating or one-night stands? Jeez. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” Viper snapped.
“No one does,” Fionn replied. “But this land knows who can shoulder the burden of its legacy. You shielded me in battle and gave blood to free me without hesitation. The bond recognized your heart, even when you tried to hide it.”
Viper glanced down at Ward, his pack still clutched in one hand like he was trying to hold onto the last piece of a world that no longer existed. “I don’t know how to do this. How to be what any of you seem to expect.”
“Then learn,” Fionn said simply. “That is the only oath a mate bond requires. That you try.”
Ward stirred, and his lashes flickered. Viper tightened his grip as if the world might try to take him again. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. It felt more than a little fucked up to know he meant it with everything he was. But he had a feeling this was only the beginning of fucked up things to come while they figured out what happened next. Yet, here with a man who had somehow become the one thing he wasn’t sure he could survive losing, what happened next wasn’t high on his list of priorities.
Ward moved, a faint twitch against Viper’s chest like the first ripple of wind before a storm rolled in. His eyes blinked open, unfocused and dazed. Viper tightened his hold a fraction, steadying Ward without crowding him. He steadfastly ignoredthe curious stares they were starting to draw from nearby warriors and his men. “Hey,” he murmured. “Back with me?”
Ward blinked again, then focused on his face. “I didn’t faint, did I?”
“You absolutely did.” He let the corner of his mouth tilt just a hair, easing the tension clawing up his spine. “But it had a dramatic flair to it. Very heroic.”
