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I might even put one of my brothers at the helm, because their thinking about any given situation is different from mine, and Dan will have a more difficult time predicting my moves.
With longing, I stare at my door as I pass it on the way to the forest so I can grab a fresh meal before tonight. Let’s hope Marybell nests this time around.
22
MARYBELL
The heat in my belly behaves like a pot of water over a low-burning flame, heating up slowly, simmering under the surface until the moment the fire is stoked higher and the heat of it boils the water, forcing it to spill out of the pot.
I sit beside the trunk Princess Fleur gifted me, hoping she didn’t leave more sachets inside it. I don’t think she did, knowing that the lycans would search the trunks. The lycans wouldn’t search her, though, which is why she hid it on her person.
The moon shines brightly tonight and makes it easier to see what I’m doing. The view of twilight from this spot is calming and beautiful, with the moon watching over the forest as if she’s his dearest possession. The wind bends the tips of the trees toward the moon, the whistling barely audible indoors, telling me Seith’s cabin is well insulated.
His cabin. Or is it our cabin.
I frown. Our cabin? My heart picks up a beat with excitement over my mating, but I’m also apprehensive because I don’t know Seith as well as I’d like. A lycan mate is loved and cherished by the lycan as if she was a treasure, and that comforts me and makes me wish to return the sentiment tenfold. It’s good to know I’ve found a place in the world, or even that a lycan goddess (to whom I shall also pray now) found me a place with her people.
I should really start nesting, more for the lycan than for me. I don’t need fancy settings to make love to him. If he took me against the door, it would be fine by me, but I’m not going to tell him that. Nesting is his people’s tradition, and since Freya, the McMar clan omega, told me nesting originated in the lycan clans and not in fae lands, it is something I wish to do well. It’s important to Seith, and I’ve always been the kind of person who enjoys pleasing others. My parents, my king, my princess, and now my mate.
With some people, as was the case with my parents, my nature was taken for granted and used against me. They would ask me to take on their work and their own responsibilities in the palace. When I couldn’t finish everything on time, not because I was lazy or didn’t want to, but because I simply couldn’t get enough time in the span to do what everyone asked me to do, Mother would punish me with a birch switch.
Which was counterproductive since the spans after the birching, my back and bottom would hurt and I’d be twice as slow as the spans before birching. Then I’d get in trouble all over again, until this one time, I couldn’t get out of bed, and my father inquired about me. My parents argued about what to tell Gloriana, who was on her way down to see me. They made haste and paid a blood mage, a healer like Philippa, to heal me so Gloriana wouldn’t punish them on my behalf.
The coin for the healer came out of my allotment, which meant I never managed to save up for a late-night carriage ride out of Lyan. A good thing too, because after that night, Mother never whipped me again. Gloriana figured out what happened, and the next span, my mother returned from the square missing a hand.
While I lay in bed, beaten and bruised, I plotted my escape. When I was younger, it was my secret, the horrible secret I never dared tell anyone, especially not Gloriana, who once told me she wished we could run away together. I didn’t dare tell her I wished for that too, for fear that when Gloriana was subject to the king’s wrath or the wrath of his mistress, she would slip and tell.
Not that I didn’t trust her. I did. Still do.
But the king and his people wield magic, and magic wielders scare me. I’ve seen them do unspeakable things. Gloriana and I grew up as two helpless puppies among jackals. When the savage horde came, we tried to run, but the king’s males caught her while I managed to get away.
For a while, I was alone.
For a while, I contemplated leaving.
I could’ve kept running, but if I had, I wonder if I would still have ended up on lycan shores like the other Kilseleians the McMar clan took in. And if so, would I still, as a lycan mate, end up with Seith. I wonder if, no matter what one does in life, however one does it, one ends up in the place where one belongs sooner or later. At any given time, we are exactly where we need to be.
I am where I need to be.
In this moment of time, I’m here, and I need to service myself and my new mate, and lay down the past Marybell who was Gloriana’s lady in favor of new Marybell, who is a mate to a clan Alpha.
The wolves running outside howl as if reminding me that I need to hurry up and open the trunk and inspect the lovely nesting supplies from the Summer Court.
I open the trunk. The aroma of a mild lavender detergent with a sprinkle of vanilla drifts into the room. These scents are said to be calming and quickly fade into the background for the folks with sensitive noses. Lycan folk.
At the top, the linens are thinnest. I sort through them until I get to the bottom and dig out three furs dyed a deep purple. “Yeah, oh yeah.” I brush the soft fur against my cheek and shiver thinking about Seith’s coarse fur.
I would like to pet him more. Though I petted him at the door, I have no idea if Seith likes it. Does he find it offensive? I doubt it. I think he likes me petting him. I have a feeling he’d let me do anything I wanted to him.
I also have a feeling he’s a good male.
The lycan goddess smiled upon me and gifted me a male who would command me in the furs. Finally.
Taking said furs, I lay them down in different places around the cabin. One by the main fireplace, one in the corner, farther away from the door, and another near the swing overlooking the lake. Pausing there, I wonder if lycans are allowed to roam this slice of private forest and lake or if Seith forbids it.
During my time in the cabin, I haven’t seen another lycan patrol near the lake. I’ve seen them run into the forest, but not around here. I’d wager Seith doesn’t allow males to patrol around his house. Lycans leave scents, and alpha males dislike other scents near their dwelling. Alpha males are very particular about pissing on trees and rubbing their scents on tree trunks.
The cabin has two fireplaces, and the one here isn’t normally lit. I grab some wood from the stack near the main fireplace in the living space, along with the fire-starting equipment, thinking Seith will need to gather supplies if we’re to stay warm for the duration of my heat.
