Authors: Jan DeLima
“Okay.” Joshua’s expression turned thoughtful. “Can we eat first?”
A slight smile tugged at Dylan’s lips. “I believe a small feast is being prepared for you at this very moment.”
“Cool. Can Mom come too?”
“Of course. Enid,
my cook
,” Dylan explained, “is making your mother’s favorite. Your grandmother is welcome as well.”
“I’ll pass,” Francine interjected. “But I appreciate the offer. I’ll stay behind and unpack.”
“Are you sure, Mum?” Sophie asked. “We can just put the food in the fridge and I’ll unpack our clothes later.”
“It’s been a long day and I’m tired.” Francine pinned her daughter with a meaningful gaze. “But you need to do this.”
“Did you hear that, Mom?” Joshua’s dark eyes twinkled with mischief. “Enid,
the cook
, is making your favorite.”
“I heard.” Her stomach gave a small heave of protest.
D
YLAN DROVE IN SILENCE, A FEELING OF COMPLETE
fulfillment spreading out form his limbs. Sophie had cared well for their son. Joshua was strong and healthy.
And here
—where he belonged.
Unable to stop himself, Dylan took another sidelong glance. It was odd and more than a little overwhelming to see one’s own features on another being. Joshua sat with his legs spread wide, taking up the whole passenger seat, his hands drumming softly against the dashboard.
Dylan had not felt such peace in a very long time.
A turn in the road came into view. On impulse, he veered his truck to the left, choosing the long way to the clinic. He heard Sophie shift in the backseat as she became aware of the detour.
Dylan watched her in the rearview mirror. Her profile was clean of paint, her complexion drawn by winter, or strain. Or both. Her jaw clenched as she stared out of the window, trying hard to ignore his presence. Her light brown hair cascaded down her back in thick waves. He’d always known her to keep it short.
She wore jeans and a navy sweatshirt and looked very much like the college intern he’d met sixteen years ago. She had not aged. He wondered if she realized that.
“What has your mother told you of me?”
Joshua straightened, his hands dropping to his lap, looking over his shoulder to the backseat. It angered Dylan that he looked to her first for approval.
“Just tell your father the truth,” Sophie said.
“Um, well, I know you have a huge house that looks like a stone fort and a lot of people live there. You watch out for everyone in your town like they’re your responsibility. I have an uncle named Luc. And an aunt named Elen who’s a doctor. They were nice to Mom when she lived here.”
The last was said as if everyone else was unkind to Sophie. How many other lies had she told?
“Do you know how your mother and I met?”
Joshua nodded. “You rented her the lake house. She worked as a wildlife biologist on a research team from the University of Maine and was trying to reintroduce caribou back into the Katahdin region. You guys ended up spending the summer together until Mom found out she was pregnant with me. She quit her job and moved in with you.”
The accounting was too guarded for Dylan’s satisfaction. “Did she tell you about her time in Rhuddin Hall? And please don’t moderate.”
“I’m not.” Joshua’s defense of his mother was immediate. “You were always worried about her and kept people around her. She was very sad because you wouldn’t let her call Grandma. She found out my grandfather died from an obituary in a newspaper. You wouldn’t let her go to the funeral. You guys had a really big fight over it.” He paused, his eyes shifting to the backseat.
“Go on,” Sophie urged.
“Mom didn’t understand why you were so weird about her leaving. Then one night you showed her why.” He didn’t give specifics but his voice indicated he knew them. “Just before you”—he cleared his throat—“
changed
, you told her she could leave after I was born, but without me. So she left before I was born.”
Although biased, the accounting was fairly accurate. Dylan had expected worse. However, there was an odd tone to his son’s voice. “What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing,” Joshua hedged. “I don’t know. I just don’t think you knew Mom that well or you’d never have made that offer. That’s all.”
That’s all.
Dylan gripped the steering wheel, trying hard to keep the anger from his voice. It seemed Sophie had omitted an important piece of information that their son deserved to know. “My words and actions may seem unfair to you, but I had my reasons. Your mother and I were wedded that summer she spent at the lake house. When she moved into my house we were husband and wife.”
Sophie hissed from the backseat, no longer ignoring his presence. “I don’t believe that wedding was entirely legal.”
He met her glare in the rearview mirror, deciding with some satisfaction that he preferred her anger to indifference. “Do your oaths mean nothing,
wife
? Because I assure you
I
don’t make vows unless I mean to keep them.”
“We were never in a church,”
she ground out, a forced calm in front of their son. “As far as I’m concerned, that ceremony was just a romantic gesture in the woods. There was no minister present, or a priest, or a justice of the peace, for that matter. And I know we never signed any papers—”
“We were in
my
church. And I don’t need a clergyman or a clerk to validate my vows. And documents are useless items easily destroyed and irrelevant.”
And you are my mate,
his wolf growled silently, flexing its teeth along Dylan’s spine.
An unbreakable bond. Your human vows are insignificant in comparison.
Her jaw hung open, rendering her momentarily speechless. Joshua remained quiet in the passenger seat, although a slight grin tugged at his lips.
“Don’t even think about it.” Sophie found her voice and its warning tone was aimed directly at their son.
“Awww . . . Come on, Mom.” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes aglow with potential trouble. “Grandma should know.”
“Grandma won’t recognize anything not blessed by a minister.”
Dylan stowed that information away for later use and addressed another issue about his son’s account that bothered him. “I had valid reasons for wanting your mother to separate from her old life, even her family. It was for her protection, and theirs, and for the people I’m responsible for. Now that you’re here, you’ll learn the whole of it.”
And you’ll understand my side.
Sophie cleared her throat. “I only recently gave Joshua the full details about”—her voice faltered—“the last time I saw you. I told him two weeks ago, when I could no longer delude myself that he wasn’t experiencing similar traits.”
Dylan grew annoyed with the evasive wordplay. “You know I can change into a wolf?”
Joshua nodded. “Yeah, Mom wanted me to know just in case I inherited the same . . . um, talent.”
“And were you surprised to hear of such a thing?”
“Not really.” He rolled his eyes toward the backseat. “But, if you haven’t noticed, Mom’s more than a little freaked-out about it.”
Not really.
Curious now, Dylan pulled over to the side of the road and opened the passenger-side window. “What do you hear in the forest, Joshua?”
He nodded with understanding and accepted the challenge. “There’s a bird making a nest a few yards away.” He pointed to a grove of young cedars. “Two deer are foraging for food over there.” He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sounds. “A man and a woman are whispering a short distance up this road.” He opened his eyes and gave a confident smile. “They just stopped.”
Dylan forced himself to stay calm. The man and woman he referred to were guards, Ceri and Gabriel, and they were more than a short distance away. “How long have your senses been . . .
heightened
?”
“I don’t know,” Joshua said. “Always, I guess. I’ve always known I’ve been different from other kids,
stronger
. But in the last three weeks I’ve felt . . .
more
.” He shot a sidelong glance toward his mother. “I feel things I haven’t before.”
“Like what?” Dylan’s heart slammed against his chest. “What do you feel?”
“Life.” Joshua’s voice dropped to a low growl not entirely human. “Power.”
Dylan hissed, sensing the whispers of energy dance along his skin, called not by him but by his son.
Sweet Mother.
Was it possible?
Did he dare allow himself to hope for such a thing?
“What
is
that?” Sophie asked, her voice anxious.
“A gift,” Dylan whispered. “An unbelievable gift. Do you know what that power can do, Joshua?”
He blinked slowly. “I think so.”
I think so.
Not tested then, not fully.
“You’ll learn.” Dylan reached over, unable to contain his joy, grabbing his son by the shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll teach you.”
“When?” he asked, eager.
“Soon.”
“Is Joshua going to be okay?” Sophie demanded, leaning forward, inches from his face.
He turned to her, a brush of movement before she jumped back. He ground his teeth against her fleeting scent. “As long as he stays with me, everything will be fine.”
“And how long will that take?” Suspicion and fear laced her voice.
Dylan evaded her question with one of his own. “Did anything change in Joshua’s life three weeks ago?”
She frowned then. “No. Nothing changed.” Her eyes turned toward their son, shrewd and assessing. “Unless I’m not aware of it.”
“No, nothing,” Joshua confirmed. “At least, I don’t think so. I like where we live now. It’s been nice not moving around so much.”
“Ah,” Dylan said.
“What?” Sophie’s voice turned frantic.
“Joshua’s wolf might have remained dormant because his environment was constantly changing . . .
unsteady
.”
Her brown eyes snapped with gold fire. “He’s always been protected . . . and loved, no matter where we were.”
“But he probably sensed your anxiety,” Dylan explained. “He wasn’t given enough time to settle, to feel secure in his surroundings . . . until recently. Am I right?”
She remained silent.
He pressed his point, “How long have you lived in your current location?” It took a great deal of self-control not to ask where that location was specifically.
“Four years,” she admitted, although with obvious reluctance. “So this . . .
change
in Joshua has nothing to do with hormones? I thought maybe . . . I don’t know . . .
puberty
might have brought this on.”
“Oh,
God
, Mom.” Joshua rolled his eyes, disgusted. “You’re like a few years too late for that question.”
Dylan had a hard time keeping his grin contained. “No, age is irrelevant.”
“Okay.” Sophie exhaled softly. “But is he going to be okay now that”—she swallowed—“now that his wolf’s no longer dormant?”
“I promise you,” Dylan said calmly, trying to ease her concern, “if he stays with me, no harm will come to him. There are things for him to learn that you can’t teach him. You must understand that.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” She pressed back into the seat, crossing her arms. “If Joshua wants to stay, we will. If not—”
“I wanna stay, Mom.” Obviously sensing the undercurrents of his parents, he hedged, “Mom can stay too, right?”
Dylan swallowed a pleased snarl.
He had her.
“Only if she wants to.”
“If
I’m
here,” Joshua said with confidence, “Mom’ll want to stay.”
The unguarded statement revealed a great deal about their relationship.
His son had only known love from his mother.
Dylan felt his beast sigh with satisfaction. “Your mother is aware of my conditions. They haven’t changed. There must be no contact with anyone outside our territory.”
A look passed between mother and son, a questioning glance from Joshua answered by a sharp frown from Sophie.
Their distrust left a vile taste on Dylan’s tongue. “There are five hundred and twelve people living in Rhuddin Village under my protection. I refuse to have their welfare compromised. Their lives are no less valuable than ours.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Joshua blurted out. “We have no one of importance to contact. Right, Mom? Grandma’s already here. And I’m here. There’s no one else. Well, besides Mr. Ayres. But he’s not family.”
Dylan frowned with the mention of another man’s name, a man who he’d never heard of—a man who
wasn’t
family.
“He’s my boss,” Sophie explained, her voice dry. “Nothing more. He does deserve a call, however. And will be getting one.”
A
CIRCLE OF TALL PINE TREES SHROUDED THE SMALL
clinic from outside eyes. The building was all on one level, half built into the ground, a fairly modern design of cement walls and metal roofing painted brown and green to blend with its surroundings.
Sophie followed Joshua and Dylan along a dark path that led to the only visible entrance. Her son hovered close to his father, eager to please, and not acting the least bit unhealthy.
She glared at Dylan’s back, fuming at her own stupidity, beginning to realize Joshua had never been in any real danger, and that Dylan had taken advantage of her ignorance. He’d been too damn happy in the truck at the first indication of—whatever the hell
it
was.
Power
, they’d called it.
Dylan opened the door to the clinic, a smile—an actual smile—on his face as he laughed at something Joshua had said.
Her breath clogged in her throat as she watched the budding relationship grow stronger with each passing minute. Her son looked happy, more than happy—accepted.
Wanted.
Her shoulders slumped. Dylan deserved to know his son, and Joshua needed his father. She no longer had the right to deny them that relationship.
If she ever had.
“Mom, come on.” Joshua held the solid metal door, waiting for her.
And suddenly a small weight of sadness lifted and she quickened her step. Dylan would never be able to take away the time she’d had with their son. No matter what the future held, Joshua would always know how much she’d loved him.
“Hold on,” she said. “I’m coming.”
Elen stood in a large open space reserved for incoming emergencies. She looked just as fair and lovely as Sophie remembered, with her hands crossed in front of her chest, watching Joshua approach with tear-filled eyes.
“Hello, Joshua. My goodness, you’re tall. And handsome. I’m your aunt Elen. It seems I’ve waited forever to meet you.”
Joshua held up his hand in a quick wave, uncomfortable with the personal greeting. “Hi.”
Elen stayed back, obviously sensing his unease. She turned to Sophie and her expression turned colder than Fiddlehead Lake in February. “Thank you for bringing him home. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Then I’ll examine him in private.”
Icy. Professional. And yet Joshua’s alarmed expression gentled her voice. “Just a quick check of your vitals,” she told him. “It won’t take long. Your mom can come too, if you’d be more comfortable.”
He straightened under the insinuation of still needing his mother. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Joshua’s never been to a hospital before,” Sophie found it necessary to explain. “He’s never been sick, until recently.”
“I’m not sick, Mom.”
Sophie waved away the interruption. “You know what I mean.”
Elen frowned, tilting her head to one side, assessing. “Where did you give birth?”
“At home. With midwives.” Sophie tried to ignore Dylan’s silent glare. “I was afraid he’d be different. I didn’t want him to be taken if he was.”
Elen nodded, not denying the possibility. “Was the birthing normal?”
“I believe so. But it was long.”
“
How
long?” Dylan asked.
“Twenty-five hours. He was ten pounds six ounces,” Sophie said proudly. “And perfect.”
Elen’s posture softened at the last comment, although her voice remained reserved. “What did you feed him as an infant?”
“I nursed. My mother tried to give him a bottle once just to supplement feedings but he wouldn’t take it. He was hungry
all
the time. He fed more than he slept. You should’ve seen me.
I was huge.
”
Sophie dropped her hands, realizing with some embarrassment she’d been demonstrating how big her chest had gotten.
Joshua groaned. “Way more info than I needed to hear.”
Dylan had gone rigid, the small muscle on the side of his cheek flexed and relaxed, then flexed again.
Elen tactfully changed the subject. “And after? What’s his diet been like?”
Sophie let out a soft laugh. “Pretty much everything I give him, and then some. He never seems to gain weight. I even supplement his meals with protein shakes.”
Elen gave Joshua a brief smile. “He looks good,” she admitted. “So whatever you’ve done has worked well for him. Has he had any immunizations?”
“No.” Sophie shook her head. “Should he have? I was just afraid to expose him.”
Elen shrugged. “They’re unnecessary but wouldn’t have harmed him. I asked only because a few cause lethargic symptoms until both immune systems adjust. It might have explained certain behaviors. You must have homeschooled him then,” she said absently, “if he wasn’t immunized?”
“Not always. I worked in the public school system when he was younger. I forged his heath records. If you look for them,” she warned to discourage an investigation, “they are inaccurate.”
“You’ve become quite resourceful, haven’t you?” Dylan commented dryly.
Sophie sent him a too sweet smile. “I’ve always been resourceful. Now I’m just paranoid.”
“Any unexplained broken bones?” Elen continued her questioning without pause. “High fevers? Problems sleeping?”
Again, Sophie shook her head. “He’s always been healthy up until three weeks ago,” she hesitated, still finding it odd to speak openly, “when the changes began.”
Elen’s eyes darted to Dylan. “Thank you, that’s all I need for now. Joshua can answer the rest of my questions.” She waved him over. “Are you ready, my handsome nephew?”
“I guess so.” Joshua didn’t look exactly thrilled to be led down the strange corridor by an unfamiliar aunt.
As he turned away, Sophie forced a reassuring smile. Letting him walk down that hallway without her was beyond difficult. It was, in a sense, the first step toward letting him go. She reminded herself to be reasonable. Elen’s frosty reception was in defense of her brother and she would never harm her nephew. Joshua was almost sixteen.
Unfortunately, the heart wasn’t guided by reason.
Adding to her unease was Dylan’s looming presence—and the simple fact that they were now alone.
She was fairly certain her punishment was about to begin.