"She's doin' well." Laina couldn't help the smile that spread over her face. She stood, holding her linked hands out in front of her middle. "Startin' t'show."
"And the cure?" Kirstin knew it was a sensitive subject, but she was too curious not to ask. "Has she recreated it yet?"
"She's workin' on it. Silvermoon's plenty in the first den, but now we have to travel for the huluppa." Laina helped Moira bring their breakfast tray over to the bed.
Moira was still shorthanded, but at least she didn't have all the wulvers to feed anymore. They'd all moved into the first den, and from what Laina said, they'd made a home there in a very short amount of time. The space was the perfect size, and The MacFalon had no problem instructing his men to fix up the old barn to house their horses or build a fence in the field to keep sheep.
"'Tis always somethin'." Kirstin sighed, cracking her hard-boiled egg and beginning to peel it.
"Sibyl a'ready sent somma t'wulver scouts back t'gather the huluppa fer her," Laina said, pouring water into a cup and putting it on Kirstin's bedside. "They also herded t'sheep to t'first den, so they would'na starve. I was glad they brought home some more of our things."
"Laina!" Darrow's voice echoed through the hallway, floating into their room. Kirstin wasn't surprised to hear him. The wulvers and the MacFalons had been going back and forth, between the first den and the MacFalon castle.
Darrow and Raife had been in to see them at least once a day, sometimes together, sometimes separately. They had a lot to discuss with The MacFalon, who was doing business from his bed, which Laina and Moira insisted he not leave. This made Kirstin happy, because the longer they kept the real world at bay, the better, as far as she was concerned. She liked having Donal all to herself in their own little world.
"Here!" Laina called back.
Darrow poked his head in and grinned at Kirstin and Donal sitting up in bed together. "There's t'love birds. Ready to go ridin' yet, MacFalon?"
"I'm quite happy wit' t'mount I've got righ 'ere," Donal replied, sliding an arm around Kirstin and pulling her close. She giggled and flushed, but didn't object. "I trust ye and Raife 'ave e'erythin' handled, Darrow?"
"Oh aye," Darrow agreed, grabbing his wife to him one handed and planting a kiss on her cheek as she passed. "E'erythin' except the witch."
Kirstin shivered at the mention of her. She couldn't get the memory out of her mind of the woman screaming, sobbing, cursing all of them in Gaelic at the sight of Eldred's mangled body being dragged behind the horse. When they had unlashed her from the pole and taken her to the dungeons, she had been put in a cell alone, away from Eldred's four men. When one of the servants had gone down to bring her bread and water the next morning, the cell had been empty. Neither the bars nor the lock had been tampered with. She had simply vanished.
"I told ye she was a witch." Kirstin couldn't help ribbing Darrow a little about that.
"Mayhaps." Darrow shrugged. He was still reluctant to believe, even now. "Although I think it more likely someone who had access to the keys set 'er free."
"But no sign of 'er?" Donal asked, frowning. "Ye haven't found 'er?"
The missing witch had been the main reason Raife had decided to keep the wulver pack on MacFalon land, in the first den. With her on the loose, there was at least one person in the world who knew exactly where the mountain den was located, and that made it too dangerous to live there. At least, at the first den, they had the MacFalons at the ready to watch their backs. Mayhaps they would find another place, in time, but for now, it was a good solution.
And it made Kirstin so very happy, to have her family close, even if she was no longer a wulver.
"Ye sent Eldred's body t'King Henry, along wit' me message?" Donal asked, taking the egg Kirstin had just finished peeling and popping the whole thing into his mouth. He asked this question every time Darrow or Raife or any of his men came in, and they always gave the same answer.
"Aye," Darrow agreed.
"Nex'time, I bite yer finger off," Kirstin growled, nudging Donal with her elbow for stealing her food.
"Yer not a wulver anymore, luv," he reminded her with a reciprocal nudge. "I'm not afeared a'ye. Bite away."
She turned and nipped at his shoulder, feeling him jump, but he grinned down at her, a dark light in his eyes that made her feel warm from head to toe.
Another knock came on the open door and the two MacFalon brothers, Aiden and Angus, who seemed to go everywhere together, appeared. Kirstin saw that Lorien was behind them, a head taller than both of the big men. He smiled over their heads at her and she smiled back. She wondered if it was true, what the women were saying about him and Lady Cecilia Witcombe.
Donal's intended had arrived, terrified of the Scots, afraid she was going to be raped and murdered the moment she stepped out of her carriage. It had taken her party a great deal of extra time to arrive, because according to castle rumors, Cecilia had sabotaged their trip on more than one occasion, including "accidentally" shooting the captain of her guard in the thigh with an arrow.
She had stepped out of her carriage to find a witch lashed to a pole in the yard, guarded by half-men, half-wolves and bare-kneed, bearded Scotsmen in kilts. She had screamed at the sight, attracting the attention of the wulvers. Lorien, who had forgotten he was in warrior form-half-wolf, half-man-had rushed to her aid, always the gentleman. She had taken one look at his face and screamed again.
And when he'd remembered, and changed back to a man?
She had simply fainted dead away
Kirstin's feelings for the woman had been nothing but venom at first, but the more she heard, the more she realized, Lady Cecilia Witcombe wasn't any more interested in marrying Donal MacFalon than he was in marrying her. But if the rumors were true, she had become quite enamored with the wulver who had caught her when she fainted and carried her into the castle. And Lorien had been spending a lot of time at Castle MacFalon, if Laina and Moira were to be believed …
"What's yer business?" Donal asked with a sigh as Aiden and Angus argued their way into the room, Lorien following close behind. "'Tis startin' to feel like a circus in 'ere."
"Ye were drunker than I was, man," Aiden protested. "Why d'ye think I won at dice?"
"Ye did'na win, ye cheated," Angus snorted. "An' I wan'me money back."
"Nuh, I would've known if he was cheatin'," Lorien replied. "A wulver can spot a cheater a mile away, at least."
"'Tis true," Darrow agreed, leaning against the door frame. "We're also vera good at cheatin', if we wanna be."
"T'was ye then!" Angus pointed a finger at Lorien. "Ye were cheatin' fer 'im! How much did he pay ye outta d'winnin's?"
"Do'na lookit me!" Lorien laughed, holding up his hands. "I do'na need yer worthless coins. I'm a wulver, remember?"
"Face it, Angus, ye're jus' not a winner." Darrow grinned at the man, who glowered at all of them. "Let's g'back out on the archery range, eh? I'd be happy t'beat ye again. This time we can wager on it … "
"I would'na lost if I was half-wolf either," Angus snorted over his shoulder at the wulver, pulling something from the pocket of his plaid, handing it to Donal. "This came fer ye."
"Yer half wild boar, but that does'na seem t'help ye." Darrow laughed.
"Sounds like wulver-human relations are improvin' a'ready," Kirstin giggled, looking over Donal's shoulder at the scroll.
Her heart stopped when she saw it had the king's seal. Moira glanced at it and saw too.
"Mayhaps ye should go along wit' King Henry and nullify t'wolf pact," Angus joked. "So I can drive these dogs back t'their kennels where they belong a'fore they give all the MacFalons fleas, eh?"
"The only flea-bitten dog 'ere is ye, Angus MacFalon," Moira said with a laugh, already shooing the two big, bearded men out the door. "Now, out wit' ye!"
Darrow snickered at that and Moira, who had no qualms about who ran the castle, smacked his bottom with a tray.
"Ye, too, dog! Out!" She threatened him with a tray over the head and he backed away through the door, still laughing. "I do'na care if yer a wulver or the Lord of the Wild Hunt 'imself, ye'all need to clear out. I've got patients t'heal before I'm called t'me own death, ye ken?"
"A'righ'!" Darrow agreed, pulling his wife into his arm. "But I'm takin' m'wife wit' me!"
"Take this one, too!" Moira waved Lorien out with her tray and he avoided being smacked by it-just barely-as he slipped out, all the men snickering at Moira's dramatic, but effective, display. She shut the door behind them with a sigh.