“What about your dad?” Kim asked.

“Glory will see to him.” Liam reached for her. “Poor Kim. We’ve given you a fright.”

“Now you’re patronizing me.” Kim climbed to her feet and glared at both of them. “That was some serious shit out there, wasn’t it?”

“It’s over now.”

“You can barely talk, Liam. So be quiet. And you.” Kim pointed at Sean. “You just stood there. Like you did in San Antonio when Fergus went crazy with his whip. You stood there and let them fight each other, let Connor rush in and get hurt. I thought you were supposed to be the big Guardian of the clan. Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to protect them?”

“Kim,” Liam said. “Don’t.”

“It’s all right, Liam,” Sean answered. “She doesn’t understand.”

“So make me understand.”

Sean looked at her a few moments, then lifted the sword from where it rested beside the couch. He drew it from its sheath and held the sword toward her in both hands, letting Kim see the interwoven Celtic designs etched into the hilt and blade. The workmanship was amazing, the lines featherlight, every single one part of the intricate pattern.

“It’s Shifter forged and Fae spelled. Very old, not meant for fighting.”

“For what, then?”

“The Guardian doesn’t guard the clan,” Sean said softly. “I’m the Guardian of the Gate. The Gate to the afterworld.”

Kim dragged her gaze from the sword to look into Sean’s quiet eyes. “You’ve lost me.”

“It used to be that the Guardian was for his pride only. But now that we’ve taken the Collar, I’m responsible for every Shifter in this Shiftertown. When a Shifter dies or is without hope of survival, I bring the sword. The sword frees the soul, allowing it to enter the Summerland. The Guardian makes sure the souls aren’t stranded, which makes them vulnerable to be enslaved again by the Fae. I save them from that.”

Kim tried to understand, to make her very practical mind believe. “So, when you stand there, watching a fight…”

“I’m waiting to see if the sword is needed. If I join in, and I’m hurt or killed, there’s no one else who can wield the sword. When I die, a new Guardian arises. Usually from the same family, but it’s complicated.”

“Are you telling me that if Dylan had hurt Liam enough tonight, you’d have stuck Liam with the sword? Turned him to dust like you did with that Shifter in my bedroom?”

“He would have, love,” Liam said. “He’d have done what he needed to do.”

“Aye, I’d have sent him to dust,” Sean agreed. “Just like I did with our Kenny.” Sean sheathed the sword, turned on his heel, and walked out of the house, clutching the sword in a tight hand.

“Oh,” Kim said into the quiet. “Now I feel like a complete idiot. What a thing to remind him of. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just so angry at him for not helping you.”

“It’s an old hurt. My fault for not explaining about it.”

Liam looked exhausted, lines etched into his tired face. Kim sat down next him, kissed his hand. “You’re not all right. You told me how strong your dad was, and the Collar really punished you out there.”

“It’s not so bad,” Liam said, his voice nearly a whisper. “Yet. Can you help me up to bed, Kim? I’m thinking I’ll be spending the rest of my mate-bonding night there. Not what I really had in mind, but eventually, I’m going to feel better.” He smiled. “And I’ll want you next to me.”

He tried to speak lightly, but Kim saw the pain in his eyes, remembered how it had clouded him the night he’d saved her from the feral Shifter. She kissed his lips, softly, trying not to hurt him, then put her arm around him and helped him to his feet.

Dylan had never screwed like this before. The sofa springs dug into Glory’s back, and Dylan’s weight pinned her wonderfully. He drove into her hard, harder, never mind the angry scratches and bruises that covered his body. His face was set, his eyes almost feral.

She’d feared that he’d be enraged with her, and he was angry, but it was anger Glory didn’t understand. Instead of berating her when he stormed in her back door, he’d grabbed her and started sexing her before they even reached the sofa. His clothes had already been gone, and she helped him tear off her own clothes before clasping him in her arms. Now Dylan pumped into her until Glory screamed with joy, not caring if everyone in Shiftertown was still outside to hear.

She was under no illusion that Dylan loved her. Dylan still loved his mate and resented himself for what he did with Glory. Dylan tried to be kind, but Glory knew that he considered himself betraying the woman who’d borne his children. His need for Glory angered him. Whenever the anger finally overrode his desires, he’d refuse to see Glory for months.

Glory held on to him, feeling him slip away from her again. Damn it, why couldn’t he make up his mind? He was tearing her apart.

She felt his seed as he groaned with it, and she hoped against hope that this time, she’d conceive. Dylan might consider taking her as mate if she had a cub. It was more difficult to produce a baby cross-species, but it could be done, and Glory would love bearing Dylan’s child.

Glory squeezed him inside her and held him close. Dylan collapsed on her, breath ragged.

The sounds of the revelry outside filtered into the house. The Shifters were enjoying themselves again. The fight was over, nothing had changed, and there was a mating ritual to celebrate. Perfect excuse to party all night.