Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3) (50 page)

North Cascades Territory; first quarter moon

Human “Memorial Day”

T
he sun was
retreating into the west, turning the tips of the tall conifers a lovely glowing green and sparkling off the clear mountain lake. Seated in the middle of her friends, Emma looked around the clearing.

A game of keep-away was going on between the wolf pack and some first- and second-year shifters. Calum’s daughter Jamie, a sleek panther, had teamed with three young wolves and one black bear. With better teamwork and coordination, the older pack members were running the paws off the youngsters.

“And Alec told me—” Vicki broke off, her gaze on her stepdaughter. “Go, Jamie!”

Jamie had leapt up a tree trunk and now rebounded straight into a cluster of wolves. With a swift paw, she batted the oversized rubber ball right out from between Zeb’s fangs and into the air.

Her bear teammate fumbled before catching it in his jaws. With a burst of speed, he scurried toward the first-years’ goal, protected by the young wolves on his team.

When the bear reached the goal, winning the point, he shifted. The rest of the youngsters followed suit, and their loud cheering echoed through the mountains. Jamie did a victory boogie around the wolves.

“I can’t believe she stole the ball from Zeb. She’ll be gloating for days.” Vicki handed out drinks, grinning proudly.

As Jamie gave another piercing whoop of victory, a pinecone smacked into her head. Pixies in the quiet mountain areas didn’t take well to noise. With a grumble, Jamie shifted back to animal, and the game resumed.

“That’s one feisty little tree fairy.” Bonnie motioned to the scowling sprite swinging on a low limb, chittering insults at the pack.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Breanne smiled. “The one in the spruce near our patio acts as if she hates the parties, but when Shay tried to convince me to start the season late, she bombarded him with twigs.”

“I can’t believe how many OtherFolk have moved close to the lodge,” Jody said. She did cleaning there, so she’d have noticed the increase.

“What kinds?” Vicki asked, turning away from the game.

Emma smiled. She’d noticed Vicki and Bree—previously human—were fascinated by the OtherFolk.

“Each cabin now has at least one tree fairy nearby,” Jody said. “Salamanders are in all but the least used woodstoves and fireplaces. There are even a few undines teasing minnows in the creek.”

“There’s also a gnome under the footbridge embankment,” Bree said. “Even though the kitchen’s a mess after the Sunday barbecues, there are more brownies. They seem to think cleaning is fun. But I don’t how why the rest of the OtherFolk have increased.”

With every breath, Emma could feel the zinging energy around the lake. “Of course the OtherFolk love the lodge. You not only have people on vacation, but you have parties where people eat and talk, and laugh and play. Look at all that energy.” She motioned toward Minette and her cubmates.

Ryder was in cat form. Minette was shouting commands to her troop of small friends as they played Pounce on the Panther. When enough little bodies piled on him, Ryder obediently collapsed. One little boy was giggling so hard he rolled right off the heap.

Laughing, Bree opened her hand in acknowledgement. “I never thought about how the guests would affect the OtherFolk.”

“Bards are taught to sense the energy in a room.” Emma took a sip of her drink. “Ben told me hellhounds feed on negative emotions. If true, the OtherFolk, like sprites and brownies, probably get a boost from happy emotions. And, Bree, even your smallest parties generate so much joy the air tingles.”

Vicki nodded. “Calum says laughter and song are the human race’s gift to the gods.”

“As are babies.” Emma grinned at the brunette. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be showing by now?”

“What a disgusting word.
Showing
.” Vicki scowled, and yet one hand tenderly covered the invisible baby bump. “The thought of turning into the Goodyear blimp doesn’t make me happy.”

“Maybe you won’t be that big.” Bree frowned. “How many are you having? Did you get a sonogram?”

“No sonograms. Shifters only use healers. Donal says he might know the numbers and sexes, but he won’t tell.” Vicki glowered. “The bastard is unbribable. I tried.”

“Daonain are crazy,” Bree muttered. Her exasperated expression was identical to Vicki’s.

“You two are Daonain now, in case you forgot.” When Vicki and Bree turned their scowls on Emma, she grinned. “I’ve never met humans turned shifter before, but it’s certainly fun to view our world through your eyes.”

Bree nudged her shoulder hard enough to knock Emma sideways, despite her greater size. “And now you know how much fun we’ve had with you, Miss Shyness, as you get your ass integrated into the”—she waved her hands—“greater whole.”

Emma opened her mouth. Closed it. She knew they’d understood her trepidation and worries, but apparently, they viewed her tentative steps with the same affectionate amusement as she watched their human missteps. That was…lovely.

Vicki noticed and pointed a finger at her. “Do not start with any teary-eyed stuff. This is a party.”

“Yes, uh…”—What had the human spy called her?—“Sergeant. As you wish.”

Eventide
.
The finest
hour of the day, and even better when celebrated with family and friends. Ben took a slow breath of the moist lakeside air. The last rays of sunlight glinted off the glacier-tipped peaks, and the first hint of coolness had appeared. Across the lake, a deer stopped to drink, ears tipped toward the commotion.

As he discussed remodeling Alec and Calum’s over-the-tavern apartments, he could hear Emma laughing with her female crew. Her happiness warmed him, inside and out.

And Ryder… He didn’t often see his taciturn brother play. Then again, staying in cat form meant he didn’t have to talk…and all cats loved games of pounce.

Just then, Minette pulled herself out of the heap of children, put her hands on her hips, and scowled. It was an exact copy of Emma this morning when Ben had stolen some of her newly baked cookies.

“Mama!”

Minette’s yell silenced the lake clearing.

Undoubtedly recognizing the cub’s voice, Emma turned, eyes wide. Her drink tipped sideways, spilling onto the grass until Angie righted it.

The bard’s voice, which normally could fill an entire room, emerged shaky. “Y-yes, my kitten?”

“Tyler got Luke for his bodder. And Jamie is getting bodders and sisters from her mama’s stomach. I want bodders, too.”

The expression on Emma’s face was…indescribable, and the look she gave Ben then Ryder, held equal amounts of love and joy and helplessness.

Ben grinned at his littermate.

The panther’s purr filled the air—Ryder agreed with his daughter.

After clearing his own throat, Ben answered his cub in the only way possible. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ll get right on that.”

*

The Daonain use a conglomeration of handed-down languages from the British Isles. Some of the older villages still speak the Gaelic (Scots) or Irish Gaelic. Many of the more common (and mangled) shifter terms have descended from Welsh.

Errors and simplification of spelling and pronunciation can be attributed to being passed down through generations…or the author messing up. Below are a few of the more common words and terms used by the shifters.

a bhràthair
: brother

a chuisle mo chridhe
: pulse of my heart

a leannán
: sweetheart, darling

a mhac
: son

brawd
: brother

cahir
: warrior

cariad
: lover, darling, sweetheart

cosantir
: guardian or protector

dùin do bhuel
: shut up

mo bhràthair
: my brother

mo charaid
: my friend

mo chridhe
: my heart

mo leannán
: my darling / my lover

tha gaol agam ort
: I love you

trawsfur
: transform or shift

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*

Master of the Mountain

Mountain Masters & Dark Haven: Book 1

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I loved it! Every word, every page, every moment until the end! So that is my review in a nutshell…….. OK I can do better than that, but seriously a melt your panties right off, intriguing love story that forces you to turn the pages until the wee hours of the night just to get to the end! How about that!

~ Book Junkie

Rebecca thinks she is overweight and boring. Logan disagrees.

When Rebecca’s lover talks her into a mountain lodge vacation with his swing club, she soon learns she’s not cut out for playing musical beds. But with her boyfriend “entertaining” in their cabin, she has nowhere to sleep. Logan, the lodge owner, finds her freezing on the porch. After hauling her inside, he warms her in his own bed, and there the experienced Dominant discovers that Rebecca might not be a swinger…but she is definitely a submissive.

Rebecca believes that no one can love her plump, scarred body. Logan disagrees. He loves her curves, and under his skilled hands, Rebecca loses not only her inhibitions, but also her heart.

Logan knows they have no future. Damaged from the war, he considers himself too dangerous to be in any relationship. Once the weekend is over, he’ll have to send the city-girl subbie back to her own world. But will driving her away protect Rebecca or scar them both?

*