by Amy Pennza
Or, in her case, an emotional one.
The four of them ate in silence, the only sounds the scrape of forks on plates. It was one of the benefits of eating with werewolves. Their metabolism meant they needed more calories than humans. As a result, no one was overly precious about table manners. In werewolf households, meals were usually consumed with a single-minded devotion to getting food from plates to stomachs as quickly as possible. That didn’t leave much room for polite dinner conversation.
Ben finished first, pushing his plate away and wiping his mouth with one of the white cloth napkins Glenna had set out. “That was great, Sabine.”
Sabine dragged a forkful of pancake through the syrup on her plate. “Any time, Benny.”
He rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched. “I thought I asked you not to call me that.”
“You asked, yes. I just decided not to comply.”
Haley looked between them as she chewed her last bite. Their banter was like that of a much older sister to a little brother. It certainly wasn’t sexual.
Not that it matters. Not after his confession about being unable to find a suitable mate.
Glenna finished and set down her fork and knife. Then she pinned Haley with a look. “So. You want to know why I went behind the Alpha’s back to bring you here.”
“Um . . .” Haley tossed Ben a look. Apparently, Sabine wasn’t the only blunt wolf in Elder Lake.
Ben put a big hand over Glenna’s, hushing her before she could go on. “What my mom means to say is that she apologizes for lying to you and dragging you into a bad situation.”
“I didn’t lie to her,” Glenna said, pulling her hand away. She smoothed back a few blond wisps that had escaped her ponytail. “I lied to Maxime Simard.”
“Mom.”
Glenna waved him off. “Oh, fine. I admit I was dishonest.” She focused on Haley. “But I was desperate. One day, when you have a child of your own, you’ll understand.”
That was an aspirational statement if Haley had ever heard one. Assuming she could find someone willing to mate her, there was no guarantee she’d have offspring. Dom and Lily were an anomaly with their growing family. Most werewolf couples tried for years—even decades—to have a child.
But she didn’t challenge Glenna. For one thing, it wasn’t worth arguing with her. More importantly, though, it was becoming clear that Glenna was a dominant wolf. The cute apron and blond ponytail were just window dressing. The real Glenna was all tooth and claw, and she was obviously prepared to use both to secure a good future for her son.
She glanced at him now, some of the steel in her face tempered by motherly devotion. “I invited you to Washington because I want Ben to have a good life. Here, in his home.” She put emphasis on the last word.
Haley could respect that, even if she didn’t agree with Glenna’s methods. “I take it there aren’t any Stalwarts in Elder Lake?”
Glenna smiled, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “There aren’t any eligible females in Elder Lake, period.” A frown wrinkled her forehead. “Didn’t you know that? The Washington Territory hasn’t seen a birth or a mating in—”
“Ten years. Max told me.”
“He didn’t tell you everything,” Glenna said. She gave Sabine a quick glance. “We have the highest rate of latents in the country.” She spread her hands. “We’re desperate to increase our numbers. Still, Bard refuses to approve matings in the territory.”
What? Confusion coursed through Haley. “I don’t understand. He won’t approve any matings?”
“Not in the territory,” Ben said. “Dozens of couples have asked over the years. He said no every time.”
Glenna’s frown deepened. “So they left.” She let out a huff. “He can’t control what goes on in other territories.”
Haley shook her head. “But . . . that doesn’t make sense. You obviously need more numbers. He should welcome matings, not forbid them.”
“He always has an excuse,” Ben said. “One time he said the couple didn’t know each other well enough.”
Glenna snorted. “Like he’s any judge of romantic relationships.”
“Another time,” Ben said, “the female’s parents didn’t approve of the match.”
Well, that one Haley could understand. Alphas had to protect their pack. If Bard let lovers elope to his territory against their families’ wishes, he could possibly provoke a war.
“Excuses, excuses,” Glenna said, her tone dismissive. “Well, things are different for my Ben.” She gestured around the cafe. “I worked hard to build this business, and my husband’s family owns half the mountain. This is Ben’s home. He has a right to settle here with a family of his own. I don’t care what Bard Bennett says. Ben’s not going anywhere.”
Easier said than done. Haley clamped her lips together so she wouldn’t say it. Werewolf packs weren’t democracies. Far from it. Alphas might not wear crowns, but they might as well be kings. And overthrowing one was a risky, messy business.
For one thing, it involved murder.
Sabine, who’d been focused on Glenna, took a sip of water. As she drank, her dark eyes met Haley’s over the rim of her glass.
The hair on Haley’s arms lifted. Sabine swallowed, her long neck working as she lowered the glass. A drop of water dotted her full lower lip, and she darted her tongue out and caught it.
Haley looked away. The water was an insignificant thing. A silly thing. So why was a chill sliding down her spine?
She dared another look at Sabine, but the other woman was staring in Glenna’s direction.
The chill vanished, as if it had never been.
Before Haley could ponder it, Glenna leaned forward, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “If you ask me, Bard Bennett doesn’t want to rule. He cares more about gaining prestige in the human world than—”
Ben straightened and cleared his throat. “Mom.” He spoke quietly, but there was a warning in his voice.
Annoyance flashed across Glenna’s features, but she covered it so quickly Haley couldn’t be certain she saw it. “Anyway,” Glenna said. She gave Haley an assessing look. “Now you understand why it was so important to me that you come. Our family could use an ally like Maxime Simard. Rumor has it he treats you like a daughter.”
If Haley had been swallowing a bite of pancake, she would have choked. As it was, she barely managed to squeak out a reply. “Max doesn’t think of me that way. I mean, I can’t bring you any sort of alliance.”
“We don’t expect that,” Ben said, tossing an aggravated look in Glenna’s direction.
Really? Because it sure as hell sounded like it. Pieces started to fall into place. Ben’s former latency and the rareness of his Gift meant his marriage prospects were limited. And his family was clearly at odds with the Alpha.
The solution? Find an eligible female from the most powerful territory in the country. They were obviously banking on Max to support a marriage if Haley wanted one.
The big variable in that was “if.”
Everyone at the table watched her, their expressions expectant.
Tough room.
She made her voice light. “You all assume I’ll like it here. New York isn’t the Cascades, but it has its benefits. What if I get homesick?”
Sabine traced an elegant finger around the rim of her glass. “We all make sacrifices for love.”
Unable to stop herself, Haley looked at Ben. His cheeks reddened, and he lowered his gaze.
Glenna leaned forward. “You’re a foster. How could you be homesick when you’ve never had a home of your own?”
“Mom!” Ben’s face deepened a few more shades.
Glenna ignored him. “Besides, the lux catena takes care of all that. It’s the great gift of our race.”
Gift. Haley’s stomach clenched. Genetics were a funny thing. What would happen if she and Ben had a child with no Gift? Glenna might pretend she didn’t care, that she just wanted her son to stay in Elder Lake, but it was hard to imagine someone so
ambitious being content with an imperfect grandchild.
Haley the Giftless.
Suddenly, she’d had her fill of pancakes—and Glenna Rupert’s schemes. She stood and grabbed her jacket. Shrugging into it, she made her voice as polite as possible. “Thank you so much for the food. It was lovely.”
“You don’t have to go so soon!” Glenna said. “I didn’t even show you the kitchen. Sabine and I are making a batch of elderberry jam.”
Ben rose. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll drive Haley back to Bard’s place.”
Haley slanted him a look. At least one Rupert knew how to read a room.
Glenna and Sabine joined them as they walked to the door. Just as Ben reached for the knob, Glenna caught Haley’s gaze—and held it, her blue-green eyes as powerful as magnets.
“Don’t be afraid to ask Bard if you can stay,” she said. “Just for a visit. There’s more to Elder Lake than mountains and pancakes.”
Yeah, like dominant mama werewolves. Haley gritted her teeth as she fought to break Glenna’s stare. The older woman’s flour-dusted apron might have fooled her once, but not now. Glenna was as dominant as they came.
Ben opened the door, making the bell ring. Glenna blinked and looked away, severing her wolf’s pull.
Haley released a shaky breath. Even if Ben was the man of her dreams, she wasn’t sure she could endure a mother-in-law like Glenna.
“Later, Mom,” Ben said, ushering Haley outside. “You too, Sabine.”
Sabine gave a wave from behind Glenna’s shoulder. “See you.”
Haley tensed. Any second now, the odd sensation would descend again.
But it didn’t. Sabine’s smile was genuine, and she stood on tiptoe a little as she waved.
Then Glenna closed the door, and the moment passed.
“You ready?” Ben zipped up his jacket and gave her an expectant look.
Haley cleared her throat. “Yeah. Sorry. Pancake hangover.”
He gave her one of his big smiles, but the twinkle in his eye was missing.
She wasn’t going to feel bad about that. He might have been ignorant about his mother’s plan, but he’d been prepared to go along with it.
Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the car.
And she opened her own door this time.
8
“You know what the cure for a pancake hangover is?”
Haley turned at Ben’s question. They’d driven in silence since they left the cafe, neither daring to break the uneasy truce they seemed to have struck. “Uh, no. I guess I don’t.”
He glanced at her as he took the car around a bend. “A hike up the mountain.”
“But I have to—”
“It’s an easy trail. I want to show you the best of Elder Lake before you leave.”
Leave. That’s what she’d been about to say. Last night, she might have fought to stay in town. But brunch had changed all that. She wasn’t willing to put herself between Bard and Glenna.
Suddenly, the pancakes sat heavy in her stomach.
Glenna was a force to be reckoned with, but in a test of wills, Haley would put her money on Bard any day of the week.
“It’s an easy trail,” Ben said. “If we’re lucky we might catch a glimpse of the herd.”
“Herd?”
He gave her another look. “Mom mentioned you used to work with horses.”
“Yeah.”
“Elder Lake has a wild herd. This time of year they tend to hang around my parents’ place.”
Ooh, he was sneaky. Glenna must have told him about her love of horses. Of course he’d use it to his advantage.
A little voice in her head whispered, “What’s the harm in looking?” She didn’t have to marry the guy just because she went on a hike with him.
Plus, it was almost her birthday. Dammit, she deserved to see those horses.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
He took them to a clearing with a small parking lot. A trail led away from the pavement like a long snake. The mountains loomed against the sky, the peaks blocking the sun and casting a deep shadow. The nearest mountain looked like someone had dumped frosting over the top. Snow sparkled and winked in the sun.
Haley got out of the car and gawked at the picturesque scene like any good tourist. “It looks close enough to touch!”
Ben laughed. “I assure you, it’s not.”
“Do you ever ski up there?” She pointed to the snow, which descended down the entire side.
“Not around here. The incline is too dangerous. Disturb too much snow, and you risk triggering an avalanche. A few members of the pack serve as a ski patrol, mostly to keep curious humans away.”
She eyed the nearest mountain, which jabbed into the sky like a knife. “How do the horses even stay upright on that thing?”
He laughed and took her hand. “You’ll see once we get to the other side. This way.”
The trail was little more than a dirt path, and in places it seemed to disappear altogether. The incline increased as they moved closer to the mountains, and Haley’s thighs started to burn.
Still, it was an easy enough trek for two werewolves. Fortified by the pancakes and ice water, she lengthened her strides, reveling in the power her inner beast lent her.
To no one in particular, she said, “It’s awesome, not being a latent anymore.”
Ben kept pace beside her, his boots crunching against the loose stones and patches of snow. “I know what you mean. I’ll always be grateful to Max for letting me train in New York.”
Sabine’s face rose in her mind. “Why doesn’t every latent in Elder Lake go there? With Lizette at the Lodge, there’s a chance everyone here could make the Turn.”
“You mean Sabine.”
“Yeah.” Haley bit her tongue before she could say anything about the odd sensations she’d felt around the dark-haired woman. It was probably nothing. Or, more likely, the effect of Glenna asserting her dominance. Most wolves kept that sort of thing under wraps unless they were issuing a direct challenge.
Ben heaved a sigh. “Sabine is . . .”
Tall? Beautiful? Kind of creepy at times?
“She’s older than she seems,” he finished.
Okay, so that was unexpected. Haley looked at him as they rounded a curve. The sun beat down, and she squinted. “Really? She doesn’t look it.” Latents aged more slowly than humans, but they lacked a pureblooded wolf’s ability to delay the march of time indefinitely.
“Good genes, I guess,” Ben said, giving a small shrug. “To be honest, I don’t even know how old she really is. She’s looked the same since I was a kid. But it’s probably far too late for her to make the Turn.” He slowed, then kicked away some larger stones in the path before picking up speed again. “It’s why she stays away, you know. She says she’d like to work more, even though she doesn’t really need the money. I think she just enjoys Mom’s company. She comes to town every couple months or so, but it’s hard for her to be around so many wolves for too long. She has a cabin deep in the woods. A lot of our latents are like that.”
Sympathy washed away the last of the discomfort Haley had felt around Sabine. It was rare—almost unheard of—for a latent to reach old age. Most lost their grip on sanity well before that. Sabine was probably just trying to survive as long as she could.
That would have been my fate . . .
A tree root seemed to come out of nowhere, and Haley tripped. She caught herself just as Ben put a hand under her arm.
“Whoa. You okay?”
“Yeah.” She studied the toe of her left boot, which was scuffed. Inside, her toes throbbed, and she wiggled them around. “Just wasn’t paying attention.”
“I’ll have to take better care of you. I can’t take you back to Bard injured.”
She looked up, and he was staring down at her. There had been humor in his words, but also something else.
Something softer and more intimate.
Warmth drifted
through her, and it wasn’t from the sun.
Danger . . . It would be easy to forget why he wanted her in Elder Lake. Maybe if she hadn’t talked to Glenna, she could even convince herself his interest was genuine.
But it would be a lie. There were a couple highly skilled Trackers at the Lodge—wolves Max used to conduct trials and interrogations whenever a wolf broke the law or got into trouble. As part of her training, she once observed as they questioned a pack member accused of murder. Despite a wealth of circumstantial evidence, neither Tracker could pick up the scent of a lie when they spoke to the accused. When she asked the lead Tracker about it later, he sighed and said, “The most convincing lies are the ones we tell ourselves.”
Ben gazed down at her, the blue sky behind him turning his eyes the same shade.
Could she lie to herself enough to give him a chance?
She broke eye contact and stepped back. “We should get going.” She gestured down the trail.
“Um . . . yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Sure. This way.”
They walked in silence for what felt like forever, the only sounds their breaths and the occasional scrape of a boot on the ground. As the trail steepened, more snow covered the path. A few times, she skirted a deeper patch to avoid getting her boots and pants wet. She was so focused on her footing, she was almost surprised when Ben put out an arm.
“Here. Look.”
She followed the direction he pointed—
—and sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s . . .”
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Satisfaction and pride threaded his tone.
Yeah. He had every right to those emotions, because the swath of land spread before them was breathtaking. A narrow green valley stretched between two mountains, the land dotted with pine trees and snow. Mountains ran the length of either side, their slopes so laden with snow they seemed to groan. It was as if a giant had walked through the mountains, then bent down and scooped out a long trough of rock and ice, leaving a lush furrow. It was like something out of a fairy tale.
