They rolled again, a tangle of limbs and snapping teeth, each vying for dominance, each refusing to yield. The bond between them pulsed with every movement, but this wasn’t just the mark of their humans; it was the bond of the wolves too, a knot of instinct and magic, older than the memories of the people who had come from the north. The fearsome warriors who, howling like wolves, fought for the ancient kings of Ireland, and were every bit as fierce and ferocious as the beasts they assumed the shape of.
Failinis twisted free and sprang to his feet, his tail high and his ears pricked. Ossary mirrored him, their chests heaving in unison.
Ossary lunged for his side, his massive body slamming into his flank, and they went down in a heap, jaws snapping and paws scrabbling for purchase. Failinis wrenched his head to the side and sank his teeth into Ossary’s ruff, holding tight as the white wolf thrashed beneath him.
Ossary’s growl vibrated against his chest before morphing into a whine. His hind legs kicked out, catching Failinis in the ribs, and suddenly the tables turned again. Ossary was on top, his weight crushing, his breath hot against Failinis’s ear.
Submit.
The word wasn’t spoken, but Failinis heard it all the same. His lips curled back in a silent snarl.
Never.
Ossary’s jaws closed around the back of Failinis’s neck, holding him in place, the pressure a warning. Failinis stilled, his body tensing in recognition. This was the dance of the mating Wolf Walker. The push and pull, the give and take, the heat, the desire, and the way of the mate bond.
He relaxed beneath Ossary, his tail thumping, and a low whine escaped him, in acknowledgment that he wanted this too. Ossary’s grip loosened, his muzzle nuzzling against Failinis’ fur. The white wolf’s breath was warm, his presence a solid, unyielding force. Failinis turned his head just enough to lick along Ossary’s jaw, tasting the salt of sweat and the wild tang of the forest, then Ossary released him.
They sprang apart, circling each other again, but the tension had shifted. The fight changed. Now it was a game, a test of speed and cunning rather than strength. Failinis feinted left, then darted to the right, his paws barely making a sound as he wove between the trees. Ossary gave chase, his white form like a ghost in the shadows. Failinis could feel him gaining on him. He could hear the steady rhythm of his breath and the pounding of his paws against the ground.
He waited until the last possible second, then spun, his hindquarters coiling like a spring. Ossary skidded to a stop, but Failinis was already moving, launching himself at the white wolf’s side. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, Failinis’ teeth sinking into the loose skin of Ossary’s neck.
Ossary twisted with a snarl, but Failinis was already gone, darting away into the undergrowth. He didn’t go far—just enough to put space between them, to draw Ossary in, and his white wolf mate didn’t disappoint.
Ossary came at him in a blur of fur, his jaws snapping shut just inches from his muzzle. He dodged, but Ossary was faster, his body slamming into his side and sending them both rolling across the forest floor. They came to a stop against the base of an ancient oak, its roots gnarled and twisted.
Failinis shook himself free and sprang to his feet, his sides heaving. Ossary mirrored him, their gazes locked. The bond between them was a rope of light and shadow, weaving around them, sending sparks skyward as it entwined their souls. He could feel Ossary’s heartbeat as if it were his own, could taste the wildness on his tongue. He pressed his muzzle against Ossary’s, their breaths mingling. The white wolf’s fur was soft beneath his lips, and warm with the heat of the chase. He inhaled deeply, memorizing the scent of him—pine and rain and something that was uniquely him. He arched into the white wolf, a whine vibrating in his chest as his vision blurred, his body trembling with need. He could feel Ossary’s desire mirroring his own, a wild, untamed thing that demanded release.
Ossary’s jaws closed around the back of his neck again, and Failinis’s legs gave out, his body sagging beneath the white wolf’s weight. He didn’t fight it. He let Ossary pin him, let the white wolf’s body cover his own, let the heat of him seep into his bones. This was the way of wolves, the shifters, and the Wolf Walkers. This was the way of Grá Croí Wolf Walker Mates.
Mine.
Ossary’s growl was low and possessive.
Yours.
By the time the first pale streaks of dawn bled through the trees, turning the shadows silver, neither knew where one began, and the other ended. Failinis whined when Ossary stiffened above him, his ears twitching toward the sky, and a shudder ran through his massive frame.
It is time. I must return to my other form.
Failinis huffed and nipped at his muzzle.
Not yet.
Ossary snapped back, teeth bared, but there was no malice in it. His golden eyes flickered with something like regret before he wrenched free and raced toward where they had left Reaper’s sleeping form in the grove.
The White Wolf curled on Reaper’s chest as the first rays of the sun climbed over the horizon. The air rippled, and Ossary’s form wavered, his massive white body dissolving into Reaper’s. One second, he was there, fur bristling, muscles coiled. Next, he was once more the man.
Failinis curled up next to his mate, with his head on Reaper’s stomach, watching him sleep. Finally, everything was right in his world, and for the first time in centuries, he slept the sleep of a newborn and dreamed of the delights that would come with his Grá Croí when night fell once more.
12
Pain filteredinto the fantastical dreams of warriors in bonding pools, and wolves in forests, dragging Reaper reluctantly from his slumber. Between his ass and his neck, he wasn’t sure which he wanted to rub first. He rolled over onto his back and instantly regretted it when his right butt cheek landed on a sharp rock. “Fuck.” He fished under himself for the stone and tossed it away.
He rubbed over the aching spot on his neck, brushing over the tender flesh, and his breath hitched when his fingers came away smeared with blood.
What the hell?
He sat up too fast, every part of his body ached, and the sacred grove swam in his vision. Memories slammed into him. He and Cian had…
