“Donna ever apologize tae me. Ye were tired, and I’m glad ye were able tae get some rest.” He kissed the top of my head.
I was feeling nervous, my heart in my throat, my palms sweaty. I looked up at that cottage again, knowing what this all meant.
“Ye sure ye’re ready for this?”
I licked my lips and swallowed the sudden lump that lodged itself in my throat. I was nodding slowly but found myself reaching for the door handle, opening it and sliding out before I fully comprehended my actions. I felt like I was on autopilot right now.
Caelan was a reassuring shadow right behind me, his body heat seeping into me, his presence a balm for my chaotic soul. Banner and Alasdair stood off to the side with the other four men, all of them wearing these grim expressions. I was pretty sure they expected the worst.
I took a step forward but stopped when I felt my mate’s hand curl around my forearm gently. When I looked over my shoulder at him, I could see he was staring at the cottage, this intense, angry expression on his face. I knew he wanted to fight this battle for me, but I had to do this on my own. I placed my hand over his and waited until he looked at me. He blinked several times as if trying to clear the rage from his vision, and when his big shoulders loosened a little, I knew he was back with me in the present.
I could feel the violence seething from Caelan, directed at the male we hadn’t even met yet.
I found myself walking toward the door before I realized my feet were taking me forward. I could see out the corner of my eye the convoy of Lycans following close behind. Caelan was right at my side, stuck to me like a second skin, but I was thankful for his presence.
I took the first step onto the porch, then the second, and just as I stood flush with the landing, the front door was pulled open. We all froze.
All I saw was darkness and a set of glowing eyes.
All I heard was a slow growl of clear warning coming straight at us.
Caelan was in front of me a moment later. He shoved his big arm behind him and wrapped the thickly muscled limb around me in a protective stance. The rest of the Lycans suddenly surrounded me as well. But I didn’t feel fear. I didn’t feel anything but this numbness that I couldn’t shake.
The deep voice that came through that darkness was slightly distorted. I couldn’t understand the words, as they were grated out in Gaelic. But I didn’t have to speak the language to know that the owner of this property was not happy with our presence.
“This is done in English so my mate can understand,” Caelan said. I felt his fingers tighten around my waist.
“Caelan,” I said softly and took hold of his thick wrist, moving it off my body so I could step out from behind him. He made a low sound of disapproval, but he didn’t stop me.
When I was standing right beside Caelan, he wrapped his arm around my waist once more, keeping me glued to his side. I wanted to smile at his protectiveness, but I was too transfixed by the man standing just feet from me.
The shadows were so thick I couldn’t make out any features aside from his size, which was colossal. Then again, that wasn’t saying much, since I had been surrounded for the last couple of days by towering wolf shifters.
There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to ask, yet the words were lodged in my throat, my tongue too thick, my mouth too dry.
And then Conor took a step forward, and another, until his shoulders cleared the doorway and he was standing on the porch. The glowing orbs that made up his eyes dimmed back to normal as he stared at me. His brows lowered for a second before rising to almost his hairline, his eyes widening.
He closed his eyes and started murmuring to himself and shaking his head. When he opened his eyes again, he took more steps until Caelan stopped him with a vicious sound leaving his chest. Conor snapped his eyes toward my mate and narrowed them before he glanced back at me.
“Ye look just like her,” he murmured, and I had a feeling he was speaking to himself. He took a step into the light, his body big and tall, but I could tell he was underweight, even looked malnourished.
There were dark circles around his eyes, and his near-black hair was long, almost shaggy, as if he cut it himself. And the five-o’clock shadow just added to the worn-down appearance he sported. But it was his eyes that had me spellbound.