“I didn’t want to leave, Toni, but I had to. I made a promise. I owe it to my father, my grandfather, and Neil to pass on our legacy, and with you... that would be impossible.” His voice grew quiet at that last bit.
Tears slid down my face as the extent of what he was saying hit me. He didn’t leave me because he’d stopped caring. He’d left me because I wasn’t a werewolf, and as such, I would never be able to give him children to continue the Knight bloodline. But, more accurately, he’d left because he’d made a promise to his father.
Oh, God, this was the reason he didn’t like to make promises.
He reached over and touched my cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. His silver gaze wavered with emotion and regret. “There hasn’t been a day since I felt that I haven’t thought about you, and when I saw you again I realized that all that time apart did nothing to change the way I feel about you.”
“Jake,” his name came out in a sob as my heart lurched in my chest.
He pressed on, his large hand cupping my face. “I took you to see my grandfather because I hoped he might be able to detect in you what I couldn’t. Sometimes, non-werewolf women can bear our children. It’s rare, but it happens. But he didn’t find that potential in you. You and I, we would never be able to—”
“Oh, God, please stop.” I pulled away from him, tears falling freely now. He’d been right. This was worse than not knowing. Understanding that he cared for me but had to choose someone else who could give him the children I couldn’t was torture.
He lowered his head, the fringe of his dark lashes hiding his eyes. “Forgive me.”
Jake took a step back as if to leave. I gripped his hand. It took him a moment, but he met my gaze, revealing a deep sadness that mirrored mine.
“I understand.” I nodded, fighting back my tears. “I don’t know if I can forgive you for leaving without telling me the truth or for the pain I’ve lived with all this time, but I understand.”
“Toni.” He pulled on my hand and wrapped me in his arms, squeezing me against his hard chest and burying his nose in my hair. I bit my tongue and shut my eyes.
We held each other for a long time without saying a word. What was there to say? The pain I thought I’d left behind blossomed freshly, tearing at my heart and delivering a sense of finality greater than the one I’d felt the day he left me. I couldn’t be the reason he broke the promise he’d made to his father, nor the reason his bloodline came to an end.
Of course, I understood.
Slowly, I pulled away and put some distance between us. “Thanks for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy, but I think it’s for the best. I don’t have to hold it against you anymore.” I smiled. “Good luck finding someone. If you want, I could help.”
“Please don’t joke.”
“Sorry.”
He chuckled sadly. “You never change.”
“Well,” I hooked my thumb toward the car, “I’d better go. Mom’s waiting for me.”
“I’ll see you around then, and like I promised, I’ll leave you alone.”
I got in the car and tore out of the parking lot, the many tears I’d held back flowing freely down my face as my heart shattered to pieces for the second time in my life.
Chapter 40
I drove in circles around The Hill until I got my emotions under control and managed to push Jake out of my head long enough for my eyes to dry. To help compartmentalize those feelings, I focused on my mother, who had been hounding me about coming to see her for days.
I had pacified her over the phone earlier today, but only after promising that I would come home for lunch. She assured me that if I didn’t show up on time, she would come to find me and bind me in a protection spell so tight that it would make a chastity belt jealous. Not that her threat scared me. I didn’t need a chastity belt the way my sex life was going—or not going. But she’d never threatened me so colorfully before, so I figured that whatever she wanted must be important. Besides, she had promised to make me creamy tortellini for lunch.
As I parked my Camaro by Mom’s curb, I considered calling Rosalina to talk about Celina Morelli. But I would wait to see her since I wanted to kiss her for saving our asses and ignoring my attempts to be noble.
Screw doing the right thing. Who needs that?
Chuckling to myself, I walked up the pathway. Mom pulled open the door before I even climbed the steps to the porch. Her brown eyes opened wide as she assessed me from top to bottom.
“Are you all right, honey?” She grabbed me by the shoulders as I stepped into the foyer and turned me this way and that, meticulously scanning me.
“I’m fine, Mom.” I swatted her hands away and set my purse on the console table. I lifted my nose, trying to get a whiff of the tortellini, but I smelled no garlic or Parmesan cheese in the air. Frowning, I headed toward the kitchen, determined to find my food.
When I entered the breakfast nook, I froze. A slender man wearing a black cloak and a silken top hat stood in the middle of the kitchen. He had short white hair, a pointy chin, and wore round, black glasses that hid his eyes.
Mom came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I glanced back, questioningly.
“Um, you didn’t mention you would have company,” I said.
“This is Damien Ward. He’s a friend.”
“Oh?”
Wait?! Was Mom dating a mage? From what I knew, only mages went around dressed in cloaks and ridiculous top hats. Was this the reason she’d been so desperate to get me here? She probably didn’t want my sisters spilling the beans before she had a chance to tell me herself. He didn’t look like Mom’s type but to each their own.
“We went to college together.” Mom’s voice trembled.
She was nervous. Funny. I repressed a smile. I gave the guy a once over. He’d interlaced his manicured hands in front of him and stood rigidly, giving off a vibe I didn’t like. I frowned. If Mom had known him since college, how come I’d never heard of him before?
My heart sped up uncomfortably. “Uh, what’s going on Mom? Where’s the tortellini?”
Maybe I’d read this all wrong, and this man was here to... claim payment for some old debt or wrongdoing? My mind reeled with different scenarios as some basic instinct raised an alarm inside me, telling me this situation was off.
“Nothing is going on, honey.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s just paying me a visit. Why don’t you sit? And I’ll reheat you some tortellini.” She walked to the refrigerator.
Reheat? Now I knew something was terribly wrong. Mom would never serve reheated anything. She always cooked exact portions. She had a thing against leftovers. She said half of them always ended up in the garbage, and she hated wasting food.
I remained standing, my fight or flight reflex too riled up for anything else.
Damien removed his dark glasses to reveal a set of copper-colored eyes. A shiver ran across my shoulders, and my senses went into overdrive like the night before. I sniffed the air and glanced around like a caged animal. A Copper Mage stood in my mother’s house. How? Why? They were the most powerful mages, aside from Black Mages. He had no business in our home.
Without a word, the mage lifted a hand in my direction. I jumped back, heart hammering out of control, energy tingling over my skin.
“Mom, he’s doing something!” Panic bled through my voice.
But Mom didn’t even glance back. In fact, she stood facing the fridge, her back to me, a hand on the handle. A strange smell filled the air, a combination of something sour and sweet. The scent was immediately familiar.
Magic.
I had encountered it in trick parlors, where weak mages worked entertaining patrons with cheap performances.
“Mom, let’s get out of here.” I tried to reach for her, to pull her away with me, but I found myself unable to move.
The mage came closer, still holding his hand up and wearing a sneer. He frowned, watching me with curiosity. His pupils weren’t round but instead
looked like ink blotches. I’d never seen such eyes before. They seemed to reach inside of me, probing, searching for something. I tried to look away, but his gaze held me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mom finally turning to face us.
The mage placed his index finger on my forehead and started tracing an intricate pattern. Heat built up inside my cranium, making me feel feverish all over. Disjointed images flashed before my eyes. Somehow, I knew they were memories, even if I couldn’t quite remember when they’d happened. Snarling, running toward the moon, power, and ferocity sizzling in my veins.
Oh, God, what is this? And why wasn’t Mom doing anything to stop this madman?
I started shaking. Pain cut through my body as I tried to break free, fighting against the fierce magic that had made its way into my mind trying to... trying to...
I growled and shook myself, finally able to move. Claws sprang at my fingertips. Mom gave out a strangled cry, tears spilling down her face. The mage hissed, rubbing his hand and grimacing in pain.
“Oh, no.” Mom covered her mouth with a trembling hand.
“It’s too late, Amalia,” the mage said. “She’s already shifted. Renewing the spell is impossible.”
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Creating and writing the Sunderverse has been incredibly fun, and I’m excited to finally be able to share the first book with everyone. The research work has been fulfilling, a part of storytelling I enjoy very much. I have visited St. Louis but don’t know the city as a local would. I do hope I’ve done that vibrant community justice.
As always, I need to thank Michael, Ella, Isabella and Alexander. Your support and encouragement keep me going every day and fuel my creative brain. I couldn’t do this without you.
Infinite thanks go to my beta reader and editor Bret Williams for always being willing to read and discuss projects with me, and to Billie to whom this book is dedicated. Our friendship is a constant source of happiness. You shine!
Last, but most importantly, to Olena Makovey and Tutsie, Kay for beta reading, and to my readers. When you visit my wild worlds and enjoy them, it makes all the hard work worth it.
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About the Author
Ingrid Seymour is a USA Today Bestselling author. When she's not writing books, she spends her time cooking exotic recipes, hanging out with her family and working out. She writes young adult and new adult fiction in a variety of genres, including Sci-Fi, urban fantasy, romance, paranormal and horror. Her favorite outings involve a trip to the library or bookstore where she immediately gravitates toward the YA section. She's an avid reader and fangirl of many amazing books. She is a dreamer and a fighter who believes perseverance and hard work can make dreams come true. She lives in Birmingham, AL with her husband, two kids, and a cat named Ossie.
Read more at Ingrid Seymour’s site.
The Tracker's Mate: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 1) Page 23