Haelan’s Desire (Walk Through Shadows Book Four)
Chapter 21

Both Isabelle and Em were waiting in the dining room doorway, anxiously watching the front door, when the door swung open, and Garrett Blackwell walked in. He moved into the foyer, saw the women, and stopped. Alasdair, who was right behind him, skirted around Garrett’s side to go to Isabelle. An older man, carrying a large blue duffle bag, followed them inside and paused next to Garrett. The man appeared to be in his late fifties and was several inches shorter than the werewolf. The hood of his puffy black winter jacket had been pulled up, but some of his short auburn hair was visible. It was heavily peppered with white and silver strands.

“This is the doctor,” Alasdair said.

“Miles Sinclair,” the older man said with a quick nod. “Which of you is the sister-in-law?”

Isabelle took a step forward. “I am.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Perfect.” He yanked his hood back and hefted the strap of the bag into a more comfortable position. “We need you with us.” He waved a hand toward the wide hallway across from the dining room, and the basement door at the end.

“What for?” Isabelle asked.

“You were with Bryant when he called?” Isabelle nodded. “You obviously know something about their anatomy,” Miles said.

“Not much, just what I’ve read in some of their books,” she said.

“Lass,” Alasdair said in a low voice. He caught her hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Okay,” she said after a glance at Em, walked into the foyer. Without a word, Garrett moved to follow Miles and Isabelle as they headed to the basement door.

“Why is Garrett here?” Em asked.

Alasdair dragged his gaze from the end of the hallway to look at her. “Miles said he may need someone strong to help, since our bones are thicker than humans.” His gaze turned back to the hallway for a second. “I offered, but he declined. He said Garrett would be a better choice, with his werewolf senses.” He spun around and went into the dining room. Celene was in her car seat, which had been set on the table, next to her father’s sword. The little girl’s eyes were open, and she was quietly sucking on a pacifier. Alasdair brushed his fingertips along her cheek. “Em, will you watch Celene?”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“My realm. I need to find out where the twins are,” he said, then caught the pacifier that was slipping from Celene’s mouth as she smiled at her father. “Haelan will want to know when he wakes up.” He looked at Em. “When I left Caernach, there were fighters in the area. Hopefully, they’ve been found by now.”

Em nodded quickly. “Of course.”

“Thank you, lass.” He turned his gaze back to Celene and smiled. After grazing her forehead with his fingertip, he straightened and moved to Em’s side. “I’ll be back soon.” He gripped her upper arm for a moment. “Close the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone you don’t recognize,” he said, then walked into the foyer. “Unless it’s the Alpha.” When he turned back to ensure she was following his directions. She had her hand on the door. She held his gaze for a moment, then pushed it closed.

Alasdair hurried out of the house and jogged up the driveway. As he reached the midpoint and scanned the road running along the front of the property to confirm he was alone, he recited the incantation for the portal. The shimmering appeared right at the edge of the driveway. He didn’t slow down. Just ran through it and came out in the forest near Haelan’s castle. He decreased his pace to a quick walk as he neared the edge of the tree line. His exit from the trees was about a hundred yards from the base of the garrison. Above him, a pair of leather uniformed adolescents streaked across the sky. The youths glided to the ground, sprinted across the courtyard, and came to a stop in front of two commanding figures. One of which had brilliant white wings. Alasdair growled low in his throat, then made his way to the pair. As he walked, he tugged at the hem of the black pullover hoodie Garret had given him to cover the blood smears on his shirt.

Roldan spotted Alasdair and stepped away from the captain with a look at the younger faeries. Casimiro waved the pair off to the side with him. “Alasdair,” Roldan called out with a confused frown. “What are you doing here?”

“Haelan sent me,” Alasdair answered. “Have his sons made it back yet?”

Roldan waved a hand at the castle. “Faine is inside, with his mate. Faerwald is at the healing centre.”

“Was he hurt?” Alasdair asked quickly.

“His leg was grazed by an arrow,” Roldan said. “Haelan is still in the human realm?”

“Yes.” Alasdair said, then walked past Roldan.

Roldan fell in step next to him. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Alasdair muttered.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” Alasdair spat the word out as he quickened his pace. “Why are you making me repeat myself?”

“I find it odd that you consider having been shot with an arrow as being fine,” Roldan said as his steps slowed, then stopped.

Alasdair took two more steps before he came to a stop. “You and I have taken arrows in the past,” he said over his shoulder. “So has Haelan.”

Roldan’s eyes narrowed at his brother’s harsh tone. “That’s true.” His head tilted as he studied the tense lines of Alasdair’s shoulders. “Haelan’s guards made it sound much more serious than an injury to an extremity.” He took a step closer to Alasdair’s back. “One of them sounded quite concerned. Which is understandable given his inability to fly.”

Alasdair drew in a deep breath. “Perhaps he thought it was worse than it is,” he said with a shrug.

“I suppose you may be right,” Roldan said thoughtfully.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Alasdair said. “I’d like to see Faerwald myself before I go back.”

“Tell Haelan that we’ve located all the guards, two were injured.” Roldan took another step toward his brother. “Three, if we include the mixed breed.”

Alasdair turned to him with a frown. “Darkbriar?”

Roldan’s expression remained flat, which caused the frown on Alasdair’s face to deepen into a glower. “He’s with the others at the healing centre.”

Alasdair looked over his shoulder at the stone two story building right outside the castle grounds. “If all the guards have been found, what is all this about?” He waved his hand at the courtyard.

“Apparently, while the mixed breed was escorting Emmeline back to our brother, they came upon a weak spot in the barrier. I’ve had the captain dispatch fighters to search for evidence of it. So far they’ve found nothing.” Roldan shrugged. “Given the source of the information, I have my doubts but, if he’s being truthful—”

“Why would he lie?” Alasdair asked softly. “He’s one of Haelan’s fighters. He swore an oath—”

“And is the spawn of a traitor,” Roldan said, then took a step back. “I suggest you ask Haelan why he took him under his wing.” He looked at the side wall of the healing centre. “I don’t understand it but, perhaps you can make sense of his reasoning.”

Alasdair’s angry stare softened. He didn’t need to ask Haelan for his reasoning. Though he cared for all of his brothers, the bond between himself and Haelan had always been tighter than with Roldan or Malin. “He is kinder, more compassionate than the rest of us—”

Roldan snorted. “You mean softer.”

“No,” Alasdair replied with a little smile. “His empathy is a strength. You’ve just been so blinded by duty that you can’t see it.” He took a step toward Roldan. “Ironic, given your ability.” Roldan’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll deliver your message.” He held Roldan’s gaze for a moment, then turned away and strode down the well-worn path to the healing centre. When he reached the corner of the building, he looked back at the path. Roldan was walking toward the courtyard. The tension in Alasdair’s shoulders eased a bit. He hurried across the front of the building and shoved the oversized door open.

The brightly lit entryway led up to a large wooden reception desk. It was unmanned for the moment. The glow of the overhead lights bounced off its glossy, varnished surface. Behind the desk was a line of curtained off bays. Almost as soon as Alasdair reached the desk, one of the drab tan curtains whipped open and a green-robed healer walked out. She rushed to the desk and bent down behind it to pull a bundle of folded fabric bandages from a shelf on one end of the desk.

“Excuse me,” Alasdair said as he stepped closer.

“Yes?” she asked in a distracted huff. She looked down at the shelf, then grabbed another handful of bandages. “What do you need?”

“I’m looking for my nephew,” he said as he looked past her to the curtained off spaces. “I was told he’s here.”

She straightened and looked at him. “Who’s your nephew?”

“Faerwald Swiftwing,” he answered.

Her eyes went wide, and she dropped the bandages on the desk. “My apologies, Your Highness,” she said as her knees bent in a quick curtsy. “He’s over here.” She spun around and rushed down the line of bays. Alasdair followed her to the last one. She pulled the curtain back and stood back to let him enter the treatment area.

Alasdair stepped inside. Faerwald was reclining on a raised bed, his back held up by a couple of thick, rectangle pillows that had been tucked under his spine so he could lie back comfortably. The left leg of his pants had been cut away. His thigh had been wrapped in bandages, his gaze was fixed on the ceiling, and his face held a frustrated scowl. Alasdair stopped at the end of the bed. Faerwald sighed as he flicked his gaze down to his own feet. His brows came together as saw who was standing there. “Uncle!” He sat up quickly. His scowl twisted into a pain filled grimace.

“Are you alright?” Alasdair asked as he reached out to grip Faerwald’s shin. “Roldan said you’d been injured.”

Faerwald waved at his leg. “The arrow barely touched me.” He leaned over and locked his gaze on the healer standing just inside the curtain. “They’re just being fastidious.” His eyebrows went down as he frowned at her. “Unnecessarily.”

“Your highness, an infection would be much more inconvenient than a few bandages,” she said as she clasped her hands together in front of her waist. “I’m sure your father would agree.”

“Yes, mistress,” Faerwald muttered, then rolled his gaze to Alasdair’s face. “Is Emmeline okay?”

“She’s with your father,” Alasdair said as he straightened.

“Uncle,” Faerwald said softly. “You didn’t answer my question. Sable said she was hurt badly, that father had to get her to help right away.”

Alasdair looked over his shoulder at the healer. She dipped her head in a respectful nod, then turned away and slipped past the curtain. “They are with a doctor,” Alasdair said. “Emmeline will be fine.”

“And my father?” Faerwald asked. “He hasn’t been answering his incantation. Drem and Beamard reported that he’d taken an arrow to his side.”

Alasdair moved around the side of the bed and gripped Faerwald’s shoulder. “He will be looked after.” Alasdair gently pushed him to lie back on the pillows. “Roldan mentioned the guard’s concern.” He swallowed against the uneasiness that was clawing its way up from his gut and forced a smile to his lips. “Your brother and his mate were unhurt?”

Faerwald nodded. “That’s how I got this,” he said with a wave at his leg. “I pushed them out of the way and got clipped. Lorakalyn was shaken up but neither of them was injured.”

“The stars were merciful,” Alasdair murmured.

“I’m not sure about that,” Faerwald said, then glanced at the curtain separating the bay from the next one over. “Taveon caught an arrow in the arm. It may be months until he’s able to swing a sword. Drem is upstairs, they had to remove a dagger from him.” He tapped his fingers against his lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his pants. “The healers had to pluck half of Sable’s wing so they could sew it back together.”

“Hopefully, he heals well and will fly again,” Alasdair said as he patted Faerwald’s shoulder. “Your father will be happy to hear you all made it back.” He gave Faerwald’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Stars willing, you each will recover without complications.” He straightened and took a half step back. “Are they keeping you here?”

“For a day or two,” Faerwald said with a frown. “Will my father be back soon?”

Alasdair walked to the end of the bed. “I’m not sure. He’ll probably want to keep a close eye on Emmeline. But I’ll come back to check on you when I can.” He stopped at the curtain, pulled it open a little, then turned back. “Get some rest.”

“Give Isabelle my best.” The charming smile that accompanied Faerwald’s statement was tinged with pain. “Tell my father not to worry about us. He should concentrate on Em.” Alasdair nodded once, then turned and slid between the curtains. As he was walking down the line of bays toward the front door, one of the curtains was drawn back. Sable stepped out, saw Alasdair’s wingless back, and followed him.

Alasdair glanced over his shoulder but didn’t stop moving. “Shouldn’t you stay here?” he asked.

“I told them I wanted to rest in my own bed,” Sable answered.

Alasdair grunted, then shoved the door open, stepped out, and continued on without even a slight pause. “My nephew said your wing has been repaired.”

Sable extended his wing. There was a big patch of feathers missing. In the middle of the bald spot was a line of black stitches. “If I’m lucky, my feathers will grow back before Beltane.” He tucked his wing against his back and picked up the speed of his steps to catch up with Alasdair. “Were they able to help him?” he asked softly.

Alasdair’s steps slowed. “The doctor had just arrived when I left,” he murmured. “Isabelle and Emmeline are with him.” He came to a stop and looked at Sable. “Roldan told me you saw a weak spot in the barrier.” Sable cast his gaze at the group of people in the courtyard. A dozen fighters had landed while Alasdair was with Faerwald. “You didn’t mention it when you were in my home.”

“Finding your brother was my priority,” Sable said, then turned his gaze to Alasdair’s face. “I had intended to report it to my captain when I returned, but—” He jerked his head in the courtyard’s direction.

“Roldan had taken over,” Alasdair said, then started walking again. Sable immediately moved to stay at his side. “He always does that.” He glanced at Sable from the corner of his eye. “He mentioned something about your father.” Sable sighed. “Is it true?”

“Sadly, yes.” The speed of Sable’s steps increased. “He was involved in the failed coup against the queen.”

“Were you involved?” Alasdair asked, his voice was a tangled growl.

“It happened before I was born,” he said over his shoulder. “But even if I had been alive when it transpired, I would not have participated. I am loyal to my prince and our queen.” His hands curled into tight fists. “But it seems that no matter what I do, some people will never believe that I’m not like him.”

Alasdair came to a stop, looked down at the ground, and took a breath. “Roldan’s thoughts are influenced by his desire to emulate our father.” His head lifted, and he focused his gaze on Sable’s back. “I understand that desire. He was a good king. But not all of us seek to walk the same paths as our fathers.” Sable stopped and spun slowly to face Alasdair. “Haelan is far more adept at seeing a person for who they truly are.” Alasdair held Sable’s gaze for a moment then walked toward him, caught a hold on the guard’s shoulder, and pulled him along as he headed toward the trees. When they were out of range of any prying ears, he let go of Sable. “As far as I can tell, Roldan and Faerwald believe in our ruse. Did you say anything about where Em was injured?”

“I told them she was favouring her back.”

“Good,” Alasdair said. “I will try to return tomorrow. Do you still have my incantation?”

Sable dipped his head in a quick nod. “If I hear anything important, I’ll contact you.”

Alasdair came to a stop and whispered the incantation for the portal. “Thank you for what you did today,” he said as he held his hand out to Sable. The mixed breed took a step forward and clasped the prince’s hand for a moment. When they released one another, Alasdair turned and moved through the shimmering. Sable watched him walk down the driveway for a moment, then turned and wound his way between the trees, to follow a lightly used path. One which led down to the wide, slow-moving river that meandered along the eastern edge of the castle grounds, and a well kept four-room house tucked behind a thick stand of trees close to the river’s edge.

Neither of them spotted the glimpse of pearly white feathers jutting out from behind a tree not twenty yards from where Alasdair had opened the portal. While Roldan was too far away to hear their conversation, his sight ability allowed him to clearly see where his brother was going. His eyes narrowed as the portal closed. He moved away from the tree and turned his steps toward the castle.

“Why is he going to the werewolves?” he muttered to himself.

Isabelle squared her shoulders as she stared at Miles. He was standing on the opposite side of the table, near Haelan’s back, wiping off the wand of a portable ultrasound. When he didn’t look up at her, she scurried around the table and squeezed herself between Miles and Haelan. “You can’t take it out.” She said in the most authoritative tone she could muster.

Miles set the wand down on a cloth draped side table. “It looks like the tip of the arrow is in his—” He waved his gloved hand at his own chest. “Magic node.”

“Magus node,” Isabelle said.

“Sure,” he said. “Bottom line, I don’t have the slightest idea how to fix it.” He looked at Isabelle. “Are you certain there wasn’t anything in those books?”

“Not in the ones I’ve read—”

Miles groaned softly. “If it’s badly damaged and I can’t figure out how to repair it, the best thing to do would be to remove it. Otherwise, if it dies, he could end up septic,” Miles said. “I realize it’s important—”

“He won’t be able to heal anyone,” she said in a rush.

“He’ll be alive,” Miles retorted.

“He is a magical being. If he loses the ability to create magic, it would—” Her hands flailed in front of her. “Change him, fundamentally change him, in a way that you and I, as humans, can’t possibly understand.”

“It would be like severing my wolf from me,” Garrett said. He was standing at the head of the table, monitoring Haelan’s breathing and heart rate with his guardian senses, just as Miles had requested.

Isabelle’s gaze shifted to Garrett for a second, then back to Miles. “Please, it has to be the very last option.” He didn’t open his mouth to reply. She lifted her hand. In it she held Haelan’s amulet, which she’d taken for safekeeping. The blue stone wobbled in front of Miles’ face. “It could affect his ability to fly.”

“Are you sure?” Miles asked.

She let her hand drop to her side. “No. But I haven’t come across anything that explains how they can fly the distances they can—”

“Denser muscles and more blood,” Miles said with a quick wave of his hand.

“What if there’s more to it.” Isabelle looked down at Haelan for a second. “Why else would all the faeries, even the ones without special abilities, have a Magus node?”

Miles drew in a deep breath, then gave her a quick nod. “I’ll do everything I can.”

Bryant, who had been waiting out of the way near the door, waved Isabelle away from the table. “Let’s let him get to work.”

Isabelle took a step away from the table. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” she mumbled. Miles gave her a nod, then turned away to grab a bottle of antiseptic off the table where he’d placed the wand. Isabelle walked to the door and hesitated.

Bryant caught a hold of her shoulder and gently steered her out of the room, then closed the door. “Think positive,” he murmured.

“I’m trying,” she whispered as she looked up at him.

“Isabelle,” he said, then pulled her in front of him and leaned down to look directly into her eyes. “You guys got him this far—”

“It’s just—”

“I know,” he said with a gentle smile. After a moment, he straightened. “I’d give you a hug, just as a friend, of course, but it’s probably not a great idea to piss Alasdair off.”

Isabelle blinked a couple times, then frowned at him. “He’s got more important things to deal with right now.” She poked him in the middle of his chest. “And it’s my consent you need, not his. We’re not wolves, remember?”

“Oh, well then—” He opened his arms to her.

Isabelle spun on her heel. “I don’t need a hug right now,” she said over her shoulder as she marched to the staircase. “I do need to check on my daughter though.”

Bryant chuckled as he trailed behind her. When he got to the top of the stairs, he glimpsed her back as she disappeared down the hallway. He turned his steps in the opposite direction and entered the kitchen. It was best if he tried to keep away from Emmeline and the kitchen was as far from her as he could get while remaining on the ground floor of the house. He sat down on one of the stools at the big granite island and rested his elbows on the stone.

“Luna,” he murmured. “He isn’t chosen but he could use a blessing right now.”

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