by JJ King
Warm arms enclosed her in a sweet embrace, but it wasn’t Liam who held her, Rose realized. The woman pulled Rose’s head down onto her shoulder and hummed, rubbing her back like a mother soothes a child. The smell of her was familiar, the connection between them more than skin deep, and Rose melted into her.
“Oh, Rose,” the woman murmured, stroking her hair, “you are so beautiful, just like your mother.” She pulled back and wiped the tears from Rose’s face. “I’m your grandmother, dear. I’m Anna.”
♀♀♀
Daphne’s neck twanged with pain as she swiveled for the thousandth time between Dalia and her abandoned family.
“You can’t expect us to forgive and forget. We’ve all,” Kitche waved emphatically toward his siblings, “spent a lifetime with the nightmares you gave us.” He punctuated “you” with a chin point.
Dalia lowered her gaze to her lap, where her fingers were tangled together. Without raising her head, Dalia whispered again in a now raspy voice, “I’m so sorry. There aren’t enough words in the world to make you understand how sorry I am.” She looked up at Kitche, her eyes bright with tears and shame, “and no, I don’t expect you to forgive or forget. I only want…” she hesitated.
“Only want what?” Sita spoke up, instantly drawing every eye to her. She’d remained silent the entire time, sitting guarded, her spine stiff and unyielding, her gaze on the floor. Daphne knew enough about regression and nonverbal communication to label her future sister-in-law as an extremely repressed individual with substantial mommy issues. She chewed her lip thoughtfully and looked around the room, then amended her observation. They all had mommy issues, not just Sita.
Except for Jacob, his issues were different altogether. Like Sita, he’d remained silent since entering and, like Sita, every detail of his posture screamed resistance. He was here because his children were here and he would never abandon them like Dalia had. Daphne prided herself on being an astute observer, but it barely took any skill to see the truth here. Dalia had damaged her family so profusely that they were all scarred, bone deep. Daphne wondered if there were any coming back from that.
She was a part of this family now, for better or worse, so it wasn’t just Keme’s state of mind that concerned her. Dalia’s resurrection wasn’t going to be easy on anyone.
Keme was handling it well, Daphne mused, or as well as could be expected. He wasn’t internalizing it like Sita or Jacob, anyway. He’d spent hours talking, raging, and stalking the carpet in their room until her dreams were filled with visions of Dalia. But she didn’t complain. Daphne figured she would take oversharing any day over a closed-off heart.
There was a long pause as everyone turned to wait for Dalia’s response. The tension in the room thickened, impossibly so, and Daphne flicked her gaze to Jacob, praying his Alpha powers stayed dormant. Dalia may have spent years learning how to control her gift, or curse, whichever it was at any given moment, but having another Alpha’s power seep out, especially one she was still married to, could set her off.
“I just want to try,” Dalia’s voice broke, making Daphne’s chest hurt in sympathy. “I know I hurt each of you more than anyone should ever be hurt, and I don’t expect you to trust me. But, I just want…” she shook her head, “I need, to try.” Dalia covered her mouth to muffle a sob.
No one spoke a word or moved a muscle as Dalia cleared her throat and wiped tears from her cheeks.
“And why should we care about your needs?” Kanen asked, brows furrowed. Sounds of agreement echoed in the room.
“Because she’s still your mother,” Jacob’s voice filled every corner of the room without him trying. Daphne stared at her Alpha, her boss, the man she owed her career to, and couldn’t stop herself from gaping. She shifted forward in her seat and watched intently, only minutely ashamed of her fascination with what was happening.
Dalia’s shock was instantly evident. She blinked several times then nodded her head in thanks, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Jacob said evenly, finally looking straight at Dalia. “I’m on their side,” he gestured to Keme, Kitche, Kanen and Sita. “I will always be on their side. I had to be,” his voice began to raise. “I had to be their father and mother, their guardian and champion. I had to be everything to them because you weren’t there! So, make no mistake,” he ground out the words through clenched teeth, “I will choose them over you every single time.”
Daphne felt his words like punches to the gut and saw Dalia physically receive them. But still she remained, repentant but determined to stay and try. Daphne recognized the behavior, she’d seen it before in court. She’d seen it in women and men with addictions who had made real changes in their life and desperately wanted to absolve their sins, to make up for the pain they’d caused. She’d seen it work for some and fail for others. It depended on the family’s capacity for empathy and forgiveness.
Dalia wiped her cheeks again and a sad smile played at the corners of her mouth. She sniffed and looked straight into Jacob’s eyes, “Thank you.”
An hour later, Daphne excused herself, citing pregnancy as justification to get out of the room. A lot had happened in an hour, including tears and endless discussion, and, from what she could see, there was a good chance Keme’s family would see true healing, someday. There was hope, anyway.
As lovely as that was to witness, Daphne needed to get away from the intense emotions and the strain of dredging up the past. Plus, she was hungry and needed to pee.
After relieving her abused bladder, Daphne made her way to the extravagant kitchen where a chef, sous chef, and several helpers worked to prepare the evening meal. She stepped cautiously into the frenetic space and stood waiting for someone to notice her, half terrified to interrupt but too hungry to wait much longer.
When no one came forward, Daphne cleared her throat and smiled sweetly at the first helper to look her way. Using considerable charm and persuasion, Daphne walked away a few minutes later with a small tray of various cheeses, fruits and crackers, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. She grinned and wandered down a long corridor, utterly lost, looking for a spot to sit and eat.
Daphne found an empty room that overlooked the castle gardens and settled onto a deep blue velvet couch, happy for the silence. She moaned with pleasure as she bit into a piece of old cheddar topped with a slice of sweet crispy apple. “An apple without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze,” she mumbled through a mouthful. It was a saying her Kindergarten teacher had always told them before eating her daily snack of an apple and cheese. It had stuck with her ever since.
“My grandmaman used to say the exact same thing,” a wheezy voice spoke from so close behind her that Daphne’s heart skipped a beat before thundering on. She thanked the Old Ones she hadn’t had a grape in her mouth or she could have choked for sure.
At a loss for what to do or say, Daphne simply held up the tray and asked, “Would you like some?”
The old woman picked a piece of gouda from the tray and popped it into her mouth, humming her satisfaction as she made her way around the couch and sat, gazing at the brightly lit garden while chewing slowly.
Just when the silence was becoming palpably awkward, the woman turned and sized Daphne up from head to toe. “So,” she said, “you’re the one.”
Daphne’s skin tingled and her heartbeat leapt again, not because she had any idea what the woman was talking about, but because she sounded so resolute in her statement. Daphne shook her head and smiled indulgently, “Sorry, but I’m not Katherine. I’m Daphne Dru, one of the Canadian Alpha’s entourage.”
“Now, now dear,” the woman clucked, as old women do,” you’re much more than just part of Jacob Little Foot’s entourage, aren’t you? You’re to be part of his family.” She picked up a slice of apple and balanced it on a piece of camembert, “But, that’s the least interesting thing about you, isn’t it?”
Daphne shook her head slowly, utterly baffled by the woman’s words, until a thought tic
kled the surface of her mind. My eyes, she looked at the woman with more interest and wondered if she was talking about her deformity.
“Stop that nonsense right now!” The woman snapped, frowning deeply at Daphne, “There is absolutely nothing deformed about your eyes.”
“How…” Daphne drew her eyebrows down, questioning if she’d actually just spoken aloud. “Did you just read my mind?” The instant the question was out of her mouth she flushed, feeling foolish. She’d probably just had a baby brain moment and spoken aloud. Mystery solved.
“Yes.” The old woman smiled around a mouthful of brie.
Daphne blinked, utterly stunned. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before forcing the words past her lips, “Who are you?”
“I’m Ida,” she smiled and for the first time Daphne noticed how beautiful she was, how stunning she must have been as a young woman which, from the look of things had been a very long time ago. “But everyone calls me grandmother.” Ida leaned forward and patted Daphne’s stomach, “That little one is going to be very special, by the way.”
Daphne’s hands flew to her stomach. No one but her friends knew about the baby and she still had no change in scent. “How did you…” she chuckled. “Did you read my mind again?”
Ida looked at her intently for a long moment, her foggy eyes seeing past all of Daphne’s defenses. “I’ve looked deeper than your mind, child. I’ve looked straight into your soul.”
Fear and disbelief mixed with anxious expectation, making Daphne’s stomach churn uncomfortably. She rubbed absently as her thoughts spun out of control. Even after all they’d been through over the last few months, it was difficult to accept that this woman could possess the power she claimed to. More than that, if it was possible, if she did have that kind of power, what did she see? Daphne desperately wanted to know. Almost as much as she didn’t want to.
A throaty chuckle broke the silence and Ida smiled again, “Now, now, don’t fret. It’s nothing like that. The child growing inside you will be more than you could ever expect and you will love her with every fiber of your being.”
“Her?” Daphne’s face flushed with heat and tears spilled from her eyes. “It’s a girl?” She laughed in disbelief.
Ida grinned, “Oops.”
Daphne’s head grew light as if it would float away if she didn’t hold on tight. She leaned her head back and looked up at the intricate tray ceiling. A girl, she thought in wonder, a little girl.
They sat in comfortable silence as Daphne spun a life for her little family. Her heart stretched every time she thought about holding their daughter, every time she pictured Keme looking down into his little girl’s eyes.
What a strange experience, she thought, going over everything Ida had told her since she’d wandered into the room. Daphne frowned, remembering Ida’s comments about her eyes. “Ida, what did you mean about my eyes and that I’m ‘the one’?”
She was rewarded with a broad smile. Ida cocked her head to the side and studied Daphne’s face, “I mean,” she reached for another piece of cheese, “that you’re the multi-shifter our seers have foretold.”
“Huh?” Daphne began to rethink her assumption that the woman was sane.
Ida shrugged, “Do your eyes glow when you’re worked up?”
“Sometimes,” Daphne narrowed her eyes, wondering if they’d start glowing now.
“Tell me, girl, have you ever dreamed about being an animal,” Ida made a face, “other than your wolf, I mean.”
Daphne began to shake her head then stopped when a flicker of memory, of dreams she’d had late at night, licked at her mind. She frowned, trying to draw them closer to her so she could see them, but the harder she tried the further away they receded. She shook her head, “Maybe, but that seems pretty normal for someone who turns into a wolf.”
“That may be so,” Ida patted her arm again, “but not everyone who turns into a wolf can turn into other animals. You can.”
Daphne couldn’t help herself, she laughed aloud in the woman’s face. The sound echoed in the big room, coming back to her loud and obnoxious. Daphne covered her mouth with her hand and looked apologetically at Ida. She’d been raised to respect her elders, there was no excuse. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
“I’ve heard worse,” Ida dismissed her laughter with a wave of a hand. “It’s normal to question the unknown, but haven’t you ever wondered why your eyes glow as they do?”
Daphne nodded. “All my life, but no one could ever give me a real answer so I just stopped asking. I figured it’s just a part of me that I’d never understand.” That part was true, partially. She’d stopped looking in earnest years ago, but when leads arose, she generally followed them to the bitter end, where she’d always come up empty handed. She’d grown cynical, Daphne realized. Here she was sitting with an actual Old One and scoffing at her offered wisdom. She was never going to get a better opportunity to discover her truth. Taking a deep breath, she centered herself and opened her mind. “Please, tell me what you know.”
“I’ve known only four people whose eyes have glowed over the course of my considerable years,” Ida began, “and each of them were utterly unique.” She looked out at the gardens, her eyes dimming with memory, “Only one of them actually knew what they were, but they’d hidden it for so long out of shame and fear that they’d be considered a freak, that they’d suppressed their abilities.” She stood and motioned for Daphne to follow her.
They made their way out onto a deck and under the stars. Daphne sucked in the cool night air and amazed at how different it smelled from the air at Wild River or back home. A pang of homesickness sucked at her chest and Daphne promised herself and the little life inside that she’d see the rolling ocean waves off the coast of Newfoundland as soon as they returned to Canada.
“For most, the ability stays dormant, hidden until it’s triggered or you find someone like you, to help coax the gift forward. I could introduce you to one,” Ida’s eyebrows inched up.
“What, now?” Daphne looked back toward the castle and barely held herself back from running inside.
Ida laughed and the sound filled Daphne’s heart with joy and hope, she was so close to knowing what she was. But the old woman shook her head, “She’s away at the moment, but she studies here, learning how to use her gift. You’re welcome to return anytime you like to work alongside her.”
Daphne’s hope dimmed, “I couldn’t impose.”
“Dear, you’re a wonder of nature and, from what I can tell, a wonderful woman.” Ida reached for Daphne’s hands and held them tight, “You are welcome here any day and I’m kind of a big deal, so what I say goes.”
Daphne grinned and squeezed Ida’s hands back in gratitude, “Thank you.” She blinked to hold back the tears, “I can’t tell you how…” she trailed off.
“I know, dear,” Ida started back inside, taking Daphne’s offered elbow. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Katherine stood before the long ornate mirror and twisted to see the back of her dress. It was black velvet, classic, and extremely low-cut in the back. I look good, she thought, smoothing the soft material over her hips.
“How is it even possible that you’re more beautiful now than you were when I met you?” Quinn’s husky voice interrupted her self-congratulations.
She turned and took in the sight of him. His long lean body, dressed now in a trim black suit that fit him like a sexy glove, leaned against the door frame of the bathroom. He still devastated her, she felt the wonder of it every time it struck her. He watched her now, his sideways grin growing with awareness as she raked her gaze over his body.
“Hey there sailor,” Katherine cocked an eyebrow and sauntered across the room, letting her hips sway provocatively. She laughed when Quinn shifted uncomfortably and adjusted his pants. It was nice to know she could still devastate him, too. She swept her hair over her shoulder and turned her back to him, “Could you be a dear and zip me up?”
His
hand was warm when it touched the small of her back, but the shivers that raced up Katherine’s spine were very real, and very arousing. She hummed deep in the back of her throat and arched into him, pressing back until he moaned and gripped her waist.
“If you keep that up, that beautiful dress of yours will end up on the floor.” Quinn growled, sucking her earlobe into his mouth.
Katherine’s knees threatened to buckle so she reached behind her head and held onto Quinn’s neck as he moved from her ear to her neck, nuzzling the sensitive spot where her shoulder curved to her spine. She moaned and rubbed against his hard arousal.
Quinn spun her around and captured her mouth in a hot delicious kiss. Katherine met his tongue with hers, tasting him, savoring his unique flavor. She loved the way he tasted and the way his kiss made her body go soft and gooey.
