Gàidhlig - Gaelic

(If I've missed anything you want the pronunciation of, comment and let me know!)

A mhamaidh - mum/mummy (ah vammy)

A ghràidh - dear (ah ghrye)

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Should Eabha heed her father's warning about the lives Hati has taken? There's no denying Hati is as deadly a wolf as his brother. . .

Chapter 4

"I don't know where to begin, a Mhamaidh."

I twined a loose thread from the folded blanket on my lap around my fingers so I wouldn't have to look my mother in the eye, weaving it around the digits again and again until it began to chafe. But I couldn't stop. As soon as Mother sat down on my bed, I knew this would be one of the hardest things I had to do; telling her what Father had been hiding, and what I'd been hiding from them both in turn. . .

They were already upset about Bruadar. His death had shrouded the entire castle in silent mourning. Laughter and conversation didn't echo off the walls as it usually did and normally rushing pack members went about their chores with slow shuffling movements and creased brows. Most every wolf who had skill with a weapon boasted sharp looking axes hanging from their belts, or glinting swords strapped across their backs.

Enough had gotten out about the manner of his death; that it was no accident. I'd even glimpsed knives hidden in the folds of skirts and cloaks, but more worryingly was the way I was avoided like the plague once more. Either Cerri's reaction to me that morning had gotten out too, or people simply didn't want to be near the female who heard the dead at such a time. Not that I minded being left alone; it gave me time to think over exactly what I was going to say, even if at the moment, I'd forgotten every planned word. They'd fled from my lips when I found my family all piled into my parent's den.

Oighrig had been feeding Seumas while my siblings played a game of rough and tumble on the floor. Mother had tried to hide that she wiped her red rimmed eyes in between weaving her offering to Macha for Bruadar, and Fionnlagh had been pacing the floor much like my father was doing now.

My parents hadn't uttered a word when I ushered then into my room.

Father must have known what I intended to do. Rigid anxiety stiffened his steps as he made his way towards the door then turned on his heel to stride right back to the window. His lips were pinched together and dark brows were drawn down over equally dark eyes as he cast a furtive glance my way.

I couldn't meet his gaze anymore than I could my mother's.

This wasn't the right time for more doom and gloom, I knew that, but I feared there would never be a right time. How could there be? All I had to cling onto was the knowledge my mother was a gentle soul who would rather placate than fight. She would be disappointed in me for keeping secrets, in Father too perhaps, but not angry. I hoped.

"Start wherever you feel comfortable, my female," mother urged, but there was a tightness to her voice that told me she knew she wouldn't like what I had to say.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I raised my head and began, "There's something you should know about me. . ."

After those simple words, it came spilling out of me like a dam overflowing in a torrent of water too fast to control. I told her everything. The whole sordid, ugly truth.

At first, Father kept pacing, stopping only to confirm or add to the story as I told his mate what he and Uncle Aonghas had figured out about my blood. Mother sat in still silence but her scent grew ever sourer as fear mixed with growing horror. Not once did she ask a question to clarify a statement, or so much as nod to show she understood. Until it came to Mànas. The truth of his sacrifice for me drew a raspy hitch of breaths and her hand flew out against the bed to steady herself.

It wasn't until I reached the part of my tale that Father was in the dark about too that he stopped trying to wear a trail into the floor of my den. He stopped in the middle of the room to listen, then slumped into a stool the moment I mentioned Freyja, wife of Odin, and Queen of the Gods. And though I told them that Sköll had need of me, I decided it best not to mention I'd been within his grasp.

Part of me expected them both to hush me, or laugh, when I revealed Hati truly was the son of Fenrir. Maybe they'd think the trauma I'd endured had cast my mind into a land of fantasy as it had done to Oighrig when I spoke of gods, prophecy, Blood Drinkers from Helheim, Sköll, Vali, visiting the realm of the dead. . .

They were shocked, of course. Gasping, choking, and shaking their heads in disbelief in between staring blankly at the wall, but not once did they question my sanity. Not once did the doubt me. That alone should have made me wonder if they'd known all along something was different about me.

"Hati wants us to visit Freyja," I finished, deflating as I got the last of it off my chest. "Sköll won't tell us the truth about what I am as much as he wants to use me, as much as he's tried to steer me towards him. She will know what I am, what I can do, how I'm meant to help."

Help or destroy, because Sköll didn't want me for any good I might be able to do. They didn't need to hear that though.

Father looked fit to burst, mahogany toned hair tousled and sticking out wildly with how often he'd run his fingers through it. His face was red from rubbing, as if he was trying to brush away everything I'd said. A tension lingered between my parents too. They didn't reach for each other, didn't sit next to each other, didn't so much as look at the other for comfort.

Mother's reaction to our secrecy was worse than I feared.

I'd been right, it wasn't anger that flashed in blue eyes like a strike of white lightening. Nor was it disappointment. It was something far more heart wrenching.

Hurt.

Betrayal.

"You did not think to trust me with this?" Her voice was so small and fragile, I barely heard her.

"Trust was never the issue," I swore, taking her hand in mine to tug to my lap as I insisted, "You still grieve Mànas. You did not need more to worry about-"

"I was worried about you already, a ghraidh. Did you think you fooled me with your excuses of headaches and tiredness when you would not join us for runs? Do you think I didn't see during meals when you looked like you were about to disappear into the very wood you sat on because something burdened you so?

"Do you think I was so pleased that you'd found a male who made you happy that I didn't see the sadness still in your heart?" She twisted on the bed and lifted her other hand to cup my cheek, leaning in close to touch her forehead to mine. "I am your mother, Eabha, you do not need to protect me. I protect you. You are my pup. I gave you life, flesh, blood, bone from my bone. Not any goddess. Not any god," she whispered fiercely. "Nothing, nothing, would be too much for me to bear, not when it comes to you. I would bear the troubles of all the whole world for you. I would go up against Gods, or Blood Drinkers, Sköll himself, with the backing of the strength of Lugh behind me, to keep you safe. Nothing will harm you as long as I am alive."

The fierceness in those final words was undeniable. I believed her.

Father finally moved to sit on my other side, his chest pressed against me and an arm around my back so no evil in the world would be able to get to me. Mother stiffened when his fingers brushed her arm, and her scent soured once more.

I pretended not hear as Father pleaded quietly, "Forgive me, Laoghaire."

"I forgive you. But I will have your throat if you ever keep something like this from me again, Tabhin. You do not get to decide what I can and can not handle knowing, especially when it comes to my pup."

Very rarely did my mother ever threaten. She wasn't one to resort to fang or claw unless there was no other choice. Her words, even just a look, were normally more than enough to get any wolf in line. Rarer still had I ever witnessed such a thing directed at my Father. His chest vibrated but he swallowed the growl and any need he felt to assert his dominance, accepting that he was the one needing put in his place.

I froze between them, dissecting every twitch and sound with a heavy heart.

"I have a request to make of you both as well," I said, hating the tension thrumming thick in the air. I forced a smile onto my face and pulled back so I could see them both. Good tidings deserved to be given by a happy messenger after all. "You have both been invited by Alpha Hati to attend the council meeting. There is good news we wish to share too, and I would be grateful if you were amongst the first to hear it."

Father frowned. Mother beamed.

"He has asked you then? Good. If all you say is true, you will need a strong male at your side."

"He who?" Father asked, exasperation in his tone. "Asked what?"

I blushed and fumbled to find the thread on the blanket again as I cleared my throat. "Actually, I asked him. But you can not tell a soul yet, a mhamaidh. We need to get permission from the council first, they need to accept me as a suitable Alpha Female, and there's a chance they won't. But if they do, I want it to be you and Father who acknowledge it, not the council."

"Of course," she gushed, her eyes welling with tears all over again. She squeezed my hands, nodding her head vigorously. "Of course, my pup. It would be an honour."

Father seemed to have finally caught on, but he seemed less than pleased with the idea. He stood from the bed with fisted hands, dark eyes fracturing with gold.

"You and the Alpha?" he choked with wide eyes. It amazed me how that notion managed to cast aside worries about a single other thing I'd revealed. Straightening up, his expression became grave as he warned, "That male is dangerous, Eabha. He has blood on his hands. I trust he will keep the pack safe but I do not trust him with you, not in that way."

An unexpected burst of irritation spread through me as I stood too. "It's not up to you. I trust him. That should be enough."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead before giving me a look I couldn't decipher. Maybe because I hadn't denied Hati was dangerous. Pain seemed to crease around his eyes, the wrinkles around his mouth deepening too. "If I'd known what we would be walking into by coming here, I would have found another way. This isn't what I wanted for you; war, and death, to be a target. Maybe if we'd stayed in Alba, you could have avoided this prophecy."

"Or maybe we would have all perished," Mother said quietly.

That was my belief too. We hadn't been far from losing ourselves to starvation before we managed to get to the port. It would have been a matter of weeks before we all died.

However, I could understand my father's fears for they were my own as well. Yet, he must have known he couldn't keep me sheltered all my life.

"I thought you disliked him. I thought he disliked you, that is what you told me. You never showed a single notion of wishing to search for a mate before. In fact, you actively turned your nose up whenever Mànas spoke of doing so."

I shifted on my feet and bit my lip to stop from smiling at the confusion in his expression. "That is what I thought then, but I was wrong. Give him a chance, Athair, please. He would do anything for me. For anyone of the pack. Niamh adores him. Fionnlagh admires him. Please. I need you to be with me on this. I might not be easily accepted as Alpha Female, and if a member of my own family doubts it. . ."

I took a shuddering breath, pretending I didn't see the glare my mother cut my father as she rose to come to my side.

"We stand with you, Eabha. Whatever you have to face, you won't face it alone."

Deflating, Father took a slow step forward. "Of course I stand with you. If this is truly what you want, if he is who holds your heart, I accept it."

"I want you to more than just accept it," I grumbled. "I want you to be happy for me. I want you to embrace him as a member of our family."

"Forgive me if I can only see the danger this puts you in. It would seem to me you'd be better staying far away from any being not of this realm. And. . ." He gave a sheepish jerk of his shoulder. "Give an old male some time to accept his pup is all grown up and no longer needs to stand behind him."

So it wasn't just the idea of Hati he had trouble swallowing. But of me taking a mate at all.

"I will always need you. Both of you. You're my parents."

Scooping me into his arms, my father nuzzled the top of my head for a long moment before setting me back on my feet. His gaze flicked to his mate, but she stood with a stern jaw and brown eyes averted.

I didn't want them to fall out, not over this, over me.

"When is the meeting?" she asked, smoothing her hand over the flour-stained apron covering her dress.

"It's set for tomorrow. Tonight is for the pack to grieve."

She nodded once and reached out to touch my arm. "Have someone fetch us when it is time, and we will be there. Together." She brushed her knuckles against my cheek, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as they roved over my face. "I will see you tonight. I better get back down to the kitchens. Please stay safe, Eabha. Do as Hati says and remain inside, and don't keep anything else from me. I can handle this. My god-blessed female."

She turned and fled for the door before I could reply, but I didn't stop her. Anyone would need a moment to themselves after hearing the story I'd told.

Father tried, but she ignored him and left the room without another glance.

He stared after her, and when his gaze found mine again, he looked as lost as a lamb. "I should have told her. Every day I thought about doing so, but I could never bring myself to. I truly was only trying to keep you all safe."

"She doesn't doubt your intentions but her feelings are valid. Let her have them, let her adjust to all she now knows. You understand her nature better than anyone, she won't stay angry for long. . .There are things you can do to help her come along. You could hunt another stag," I teased lightly, feeling a little better when he mustered a small chuckle.

His fingers brushed over his side, seeking out the old injury that now left him with only a slightly awkward gait. If there was still pain, he hid it well. But I knew what he was thinking; there was nothing of substantial worth he could hunt. Not alone.

"I'll help you. So will Fionnlagh. . .and Hati if you asked him-"

"I do not need another male's help to hunt for my mate," he snapped, his demeanour changing in an instant.

I flinched.

Perhaps mother had the right idea after all.

Taking after her lead, I gave him a final scathing look before leaving him to stew alone.

Father had always been so gentle. While he'd been the dominant male in my family, mother had always barked worse than he ever had. What was worse was I couldn't help but feel it was all my fault. I'd fostered the mistrust he had for Hati; even though I hadn't truly meant to.

All I longed for was that he would show up at council and acknowledge Hati and I as mates. He would do that for me. Trust, and eventually love, could be fostered between my sire and mate in time.

If we had enough time left. . .