They entered the gates into the werewolf run unchallenged and followed the dirt road through the fields towards house. Verity saw Alatar in one of the fields, straighten and shield his eyes as the 4WD’s passed at a walking pace.
They pulled up out front of the house, and the drivers hopped out. Verity saw them greet Wade who wore an apron around his waist and had come from the cooking fire.
Dior met her eyes. “It is alright, Verity,” he assured her, sensing her anxiety.
“It is just that when we escaped, Maverick set their cattle free, so I think they might be annoyed with me,” she told him.
“They abducted our mate from our home,” Dior replied. “If anyone ought to be worried about this meeting, Verity, it should be them.” He opened the car door and slid out before reaching back for her. She took his hand as she stepped out and kept the bulk of his body between her and Wade.
“Dior,” Wade greeting him. “I have been expecting you.”
“I rather thought that you would be,” Dior replied, his voice stern.
“It was not our intention to take your mate,” the alpha was undaunted as Dior was flanked by Etienne, Blaise and Charon. Her mates made an intimidating shield, Verity thought with smugness feeling brave with them around her. “Alatar has explained his mistake. The portal was set blindly, tracking Verity through her shared bloodline, not to your home.”
“And yet, she was not immediately returned,” Dior pointed out.
“As I am sure Raiden would have pointed out, travel between the runs and the city has been extremely dangerous, and Alatar exhausted his magical supplies in opening the portal,” considering he wore a frilled apron around his waist, Wade was absolutely the alpha of the run. Verity could see his son in him, they both possessed that same quiet, powerful, confident demeanour of men completely comfortable in themselves and their strength.
In a way, she thought looking up at Dior, her lion gargoyle was very much the same – a man who did not feel the need to demonstrate his strength because he was confident in it.
“Our mate was found on the outskirts of a town occupied by Nephilim,” Dior replied.
A crowd of werewolves was gathering, adults only, the curious children being shepherded back into the rows of caravans to press their faces against the windows, watching eagerly the confrontation between werewolves and gargoyles.
Verity saw Rune lingering around the corner of the building, and Alatar eased around the edges of werewolves to go stand beside Rune, his expression strained. Rune put his arm around his mate’s shoulders and whispered something into his ear. Alatar met her eyes through the gathering.
“Your mate,” Wade’s lip curled in the corner. “Freed a prisoner, loosed a herd of cattle from their pen into our fields and vegetable garden, and escaped with the prisoner whilst we were trying to salvage our harvest.”
Dior huffed the sound heavy with humour. “That sounds like our mate,” he conceded. “The vampires experienced a similar trouble in keeping her restrained. You can bond over your experience with Elior when you next see him. And I believe your prisoner was responsible for releasing the cattle.”
“We figured as much,” Wade relaxed, and the werewolves around him did likewise. “We do apologise, Dior.”
“Our female mate was ovulating,” Dior said. Verity flushed and pressed her face into his arm, uncomfortable with her fertility being openly discussed. “At the time of her abduction, and her disappearance reduced our chances of conception.”
Wade closed his eyes and nodded before opening them. “I appreciate the importance of an ovulating mate to the gargoyles,” he said quietly. “And I personally apologize for interfering at such an important time to you all.” The werewolves had become tense again, sensing trouble.
“Then you will think carefully before you deny me this,” Dior looked across the werewolves to where Alatar and Rune stood. “Elior has tasked me with taking Alatar back to the city with us. He is working with the city’s coven on ideas to return attack on the Nephilim and requires Alatar’s assistance.”
“Shit,” Wade muttered under his breath. “What guarantees can you offer?”
“We can offer no guarantees,” Dior waited. “These times are what they are. We will however permit his mate to accompany us.”
“We will need to discuss this,” Wade said. “With Diedre. She is currently in the fields.”
“You may have,” Dior glanced up at the sun. “Half an hour. We are eager to return to our city and return our mate to our nest.”
“Thank you,” Wade inclined his head and gestured to someone. A woman broke away from the gathering and ran at full speed down the dirt road, kicking up dirt behind her. “Let me offer you a meal and refreshments whilst you wait. Ethan,” he said over his shoulder.
“Yes, dad,” the man that stepped forward was obviously Raiden’s brother, Verity thought, from his appearance. “If you will come this way,” he said to Dior.
Dior led his mates along to the firepit, leaving Wade on the porch of the house waiting for his mate to return from the fields. Verity saw that Rune and Alatar lingered behind and went to the alpha werewolf speaking urgently.
The werewolves, in the majority, followed the gargoyles, and the children were released from the caravan, coming to gather around and chatter eagerly. Indulgently, Blaise set his meal aside, stripped out of his clothing, and shifted into his gargoyle form. He let them run their hands over his stone wings.
Verity moved closer, intrigued and ran her hand over his bicep, feeling the cold, smooth surface of stone under her palm. “I saw Dior and Etienne shift,” she said to him. “And you all in the skies, but never this close. You are incredibly beautiful.”
He lowered his head so that she could stroke across his horns. “I am horny,” he told her. His voice was deeper in gargoyle form and, she noted as her eyes automatically dropped, his assets were just as impressive.
“Naughty goat,” she scolded. “Not in front of the children.”
“Werewolves are not so guarded about sexuality,” Dior commented. “Like most Others.”
“Still,” Verity passed Blaise back his tracksuit pants. The werewolves around them laughed at Verity’s prudishness, supporting Dior’s statement that they were more relaxed about such things. “Witches and warlocks are not so open,” she murmured defensively.
“We have noticed,” Blaise’s smiled was warm as he sat back down with his meal.
“You are very beautiful in gargoyle form,” she offered as she sat back between her mates. “All three of you.”
“Thank you,” Dior’s smile was slow. “You are very beautiful in your natural form as well.”
“Perhaps, someday, we will show you what we can do in gargoyle form,” Etienne’s eyes were wicked.
“Oh my god,” she realised what he meant. “You… ah… in your gargoyle form, too?”
Blaise laughed.
“Of course, we do,” Dior told her, amused. “But we will be very careful, with you.”
She exchanged a look with Charon. The winged man looked as daunted as she felt. “Alright,” she said, bravely. “Very carefully.”
“Mon chou,” Etienne’s darkened with lust. “Mon petite chou.”
Verity’s attention was captured by the meeting under the porch. She could see a woman with Wade, and Alatar and Rune were both talking over-top of each other, with hand gestures.
“Diedre is the true head of the pack,” Dior murmured, leaning over Verity his lips against her ear. “Werewolf packs are matriarchal. The decision as to whether Rune and Alatar will accompany us lies with her, ultimately, and they must obey, no matter how unhappy they are about it.”
“They are unhappy,” Verity observed.
“Yes, very,” he was smug. “The full moon is in five days. It is traditional that a mate will be turned on the first night before the pack. They are arguing that there is no guarantee that they will return in time.”
His hearing was much keener than hers, she observed. “And what are they saying?”
“That they owe us this for stealing a gargoyle female at ovulation.”
“Why is that such a big deal?” She felt a hot flush rising in her cheeks.
“Of all the Others,” his tone softened. “The gargoyles have always had the least population number, and our birth rates are lower. Griffins, especially,” his eyes flicked to Etienne. “When a triad finds a female mate, it is an occasion of great celebration, as it means an increase in the population. I can take hundreds of years for a triad to form, and hundreds more for them to find a female mate.”
“You will outlive me,” she whispered. “By thousands of years.”
“No,” his hand closed over hers. “It is the magic of gargoyles that our mates share our lifetime. You and Charon will live as long as the last of the triad.”
“Oh, god,” she breathed it out. “I cannot imagine living after losing a mate. That is just so terribly sad.”
“Yes,” his hand squeezed hers. “But it is the way of things, especially in times such as we live in. If all my mates survive this war,” a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I will rejoice. But the odds are against us.”
She looked up at him and held his hand tighter.
The group under the porch walked over to them led by Wade and the woman.
“Hello,” the woman addressed them, her eyes travelling from Blaise, through to Charon at the other end. “I am Diedre.”
“Hello Diedre,” Dior rose to his feet and inclined his head. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Thank you for your patience,” Diedre looked up at him. Verity noted that her forearms were heavily scarred as if the skin had been torn away in strips. The damage must have been horrendous, she thought, as werewolves in general did not scar, their healing abilities, like most Others, being accentuated. “And I extend our apologies for the abduction of your female mate,” he eyes came to rest on Verity. “At such an important time in her cycle.”
“Thank you,” Dior’s reply was gracious.
“I am told that you have been tasked to retrieve Alatar by Elior. It is interesting that our granddaughter passed by here recently and did not speak of it.”
“You would have to ask her, why that was,” Dior’s tone was amused.
Diedre’s lips curled in a smile. “You are right, of course,” she said to him. “Ashlynn may be more hybrid and vampire than werewolf in make-up, but she was raised in the pack. She would not have wanted to be the bearer of bad news.”
“Admittedly,” he said. “The original plan was for us to travel with her.”
“And she left you to finish the task she began,” Diedre sighed in amused exasperation. “As is typical of her. She will have returned to her mates, now.”
“That is my understanding of where she has gone.”
“Alatar is pack,” Diedre said more seriously. “I know that you do not owe us guarantee…”
“It is not possible to give,” Dior said gently. “If he becomes involved in this war.”
“Understood. But you will take him and Rune to Elior, and, if they wish to return?”
“I will see them both to Elior, and will offer them return,” Dior agreed. “But if they choose to stay and join this battle, I will not be responsible for them.”
“Agreed,” she held out her hand, and Dior clasped it in his much larger one. “They will be ready to leave in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Diedre.”