They were all still alive. The house still stood. He and Miles were repairing the magical defenses. A soft wind whistled, and the night chill deepened. Rowan felt it settling under his skin as well as the ground, a sign that he was still connected to the land he’d long ago vowed to protect.
“I could do without the smell of wolves,” Miles remarked, breaking through the rumble of Rowan’s thoughts. “I’ll take care of them tonight. Won’t be a sign of them left by morning.”
“Thank you,” the dryad replied.
They lapsed into a deep silence, with only the sounds of their magic working to accompany them. Rowan remembered nights when he’d stood out here with Catherine, and together, they had poured their magic into the walls, wards, and lands to keep out foul spirits and anyone who might pose a threat. That was long before she married a dragon and gained a whole other kind of protection.
Rowan often thought of the Red Dragon, who lived not far from here on a grand, sprawling estate. The one Stacy had grown up on. She was born for this legacy, this life.
She fought well tonight, he thought. He was proud of her. Any doubt he’d had before about her not being ready to make this her home vanished with tonight’s events. She defended her home as if it had always been hers.
“Reminds me of old times and ancient enemies. We always seem to be running into damn werewolves, don’t we?’ Miles remarked.
“Werewolves have been hunting Stacy since her power awoke. They’ve always disliked witches, so they’re an easy group for someone like Victor Corbinelli to hire.” Rowan’s green eyes shone. “Little do they know, like them, she also has shifter blood. Though she has not yet come close to taking on dragon form.”
Miles gave a low whistle. “Won’t that be a sight?”
Rowan nodded.
“Greedy pricks like Corbinelli will always exist. It’s a real shame. We’ve been fighting bastards like him our whole lives, haven’t we?” Miles dropped his hands, his magic needing a rest before he buried or burned or whatever he’d do to the dead wolves tonight.
Rowan finally turned to his old friend. “I’m glad you and Kiera were here to help tonight. I fear we may not have been able to protect the estate if not for you.”
Miles gave Rowan a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Always, Rowan. We’ll always be here if you need us.”
Rowan hoped that was true, for both his sake and Stacy’s. “I wish you’d met her,” he murmured in a low voice, almost a whisper.
“Catherine?” Miles asked.
The dryad nodded, his green eyes glistening. “She was not only a powerful witch but a good woman. Her daughter is like her.”
“Then we will protect her.” Miles loosed a deep sigh. “We should head inside when this is finished. I have a feeling you and Stacy have a lot to share with Kiera and me about what’s been going on. Stacy seemed to know who sent that pack.”
Rowan nodded. “She does. We’ll tell you everything.”
After showering, Stacy headed to the estate’s war room. That was what Rowan called it, anyway.
She hardly considered the space somewhere she would plot wars. It was a large room with many shelves holding books and old, rare artifacts of varying sizes and ages. A stone fireplace stood at one end, with several chairs crowded before it.
In the center of the room, a massive oak table held a detailed map of the grounds. Its wrinkled texture and yellowed coloring indicated it was quite old. She guessed it had been drawn when the estate was first built.
Stacy leaned over the map, noting all the areas where magic defended the place. Even the trees marked on the map still stood. She recognized several. They had not been young when the estate was built, which meant magic in the ground sustained them. “Amazing,” she murmured. “My mother poured so much of herself into this place.” Maybe all of herself. She shook her head in awe.
She wondered how they could map out a better defensive strategy for future attacks since she was certain Victor would not stop with this one. She fell deep into thought, plotting possible scenarios. Her head felt heavy, and she wished Rowan would come in and give his advice.
Instead, Kiera arrived, looking freshly washed and wearing a long, dark bathrobe. “Sorry there’s no dessert,” the fae woman stated upon seeing Stacy standing at the table, her back to a roaring fire.
Stacy had not built a fire. It must have sprung up there of its own accord, or a mischievous bunch of fire sprites started it. Either way, she was grateful for its crackling companionship. “That’s all right,” she replied. “It wasn’t your fault.” She didn’t want to think of the state of her kitchen. Repairs would have to wait until tomorrow.
Kiera surveyed the room in quiet interest. Her eyes had changed from amber to her normal soft violet. When they gave Kiera and Miles a tour of the house, the fae woman had been more interested in this room than any other, but they had not lingered long. Now, she took her time considering the space.
Finally, Kiera drifted to the table. “What are you looking at?”
Stacy gestured at the map. “Trying to figure out how the hell we’ll avoid a next time.”
“My guess is the defenses around the stone wall are weak due to their age,” Kiera remarked after studying the map. She tapped part of it with her black-nailed fingertip. “Rowan spent most of his time reinforcing those defenses, probably because they needed it the most. Makes sense. That wall has been up for…a long time.”
How did Kiera know that? Did it look old?
The fae woman noted Stacy’s curiosity and added, “I know something is old when I see it. I can sense the age of magic in things. Sometimes, anyway. Mostly in very old structures or artifacts.” Her dark eyes flicked to a shelf behind Stacy that held several old helmets and shields.
Ah. That was why Kiera was so interested in this room.
The space reminded Stacy of her father’s library at the Drakethorn estate, and she wondered if this room had always been like this or if he’d added it after marrying Catherine. She had moved to his estate, of course, but she’d often come here. Stacy imagined her parents coming here when they wanted a respite. That would have been easy with Rowan the only person around.
“Miles will work with Rowan to strengthen the defenses,” Kiera stated mildly. “I’m sure we can avoid what happened tonight in the future.”
Stacy glanced at the fae woman, her brows furrowing. She suddenly realized the fight had been no big deal to Kiera. What the hell had this woman been through? What stories of her past did she have to tell? Stacy observed her with renewed interest. Who has Rowan hired?
“You should sleep,” Kiera stated a moment later, her eyes growing darker.
Stacy agreed. Her eyes burned from being open for so long. However, she suddenly remembered Amy and took out her phone. A text blinked across the top of her screen.
AMY
Sorry for not showing up for dinner. Spencer and I got carried away with the investigation. We’re onto something good. See you soon.
