Shadows and Stars

by Becca Fanning

  Onessa lowered her head and stared down at her feet. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She wasn’t married. Her parents wouldn’t know how to handle this. How would she tell her mother and father that she was pregnant? How would she explain that she was going to have twin girls who’d be able to shift into panthers? Her stomach rolled.

  “I think I need to go and lie down.”

  “Go on, I’ll take care of the rest of the dishes. You need your rest. Our gestation period is a lot longer than humans’. Those girls will be resting in your womb for at least thirteen months.”

  Thirteen fucking months.

  “Insane!” Onessa yelled.

  “To you maybe. For us, it’s the norm. I’ve never been around to witness a cub that had the best of both worlds. It will be interesting to see. Our cubs are born in human form, but are unable to open their eyes for two weeks. It’s how they develop their keen hearing senses.”

  “Two whole weeks they can’t open their eyes?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of help. We all pitch in around here.”

  “I haven’t been asked to stay, Delia.”

  The woman gave her a Cheshire cat smile. A secretive one that held all the knowledge Onessa didn’t have on the subject. She knew you were pregnant. So maybe she does know something.

  “Destiny has a plan for you, sweet Onessa. If you stop to look, you’ll see it. Now, go on and rest. I got this.”

  With the weight of the world on her shoulders, Onessa walked back to the guest room. She’d been in Cyr’s room on the second floor earlier, but she wasn’t sure if she should sleep there after the dinner mishap. He was going through something he didn’t want her to be a part of. Onessa decided their conversation would be better left till tomorrow. After she’d slept on it.

  Onessa took a quick shower and pulled herself into bed. Tomorrow was a new day.

  It was late when Cyr returned home. His mind made up, he went straight to bed. He didn’t have to worry about whether Onessa was there. She wasn’t. But his sheets were soaked with her scent. Groaning, he collapsed in bed, exhausted.

  “Wake up, asshole.”

  Cyr thought he was dreaming until his shoulder was jostled.

  “The fuck is your problem, Alaric?” Cyr grumped.

  “Nessa’s outside, she wants to talk to you.”

  Shit.

  He wasn’t ready to face her yet. He needed more time.

  “Tell her I’m sleeping.”

  “Tell me yourself.” Her voice carried over to him. Cyr turned, spotting her at the open door. She was pissed, but he didn’t understand why. She wasn’t the one who should be upset.

  “Onessa, can we not do this now?”

  “Why? So, you can hide. You smell like shit, Cyr. What did you do, rob a liquor store?”

  He had hit the local bar, but he hadn’t drunk everything. Had he?

  “Later,” he grumped, pulling the comforter over his head.

  She stomped over to his side of the bed and pulled the blanket and pillow away from his head. “No. We’re talking now. I need you to listen to me, Delia said some shit that has me worried, and I need to know I’m not alone in this.”

  Alone?

  “Whatever Delia said wasn’t true.”

  “Then you’re saying there is no way I could be pregnant because we were fucking during a breeding moon?”

  It was like cold water had been thrown in his face. Cyr sat up, wide-eyed and trying his hardest to make the room stop spinning.

  “Fuck. She’s right. She’s ripe with your offspring. I can smell her. It’s strong.” Alaric turned to Onessa and gave her his biggest grin. “Congrats, Nessa. Way to hit it out of the ballpark.”

  “Alaric, can we please have some privacy?” Onessa huffed. She was in a pair of yoga pants and a tank top that showcased her tattoo.

  Cyr’s friend looked sheepish as he backed out of the room, leaving them alone.

  “We’re going to talk, Cyriaque.”

  The way she said his name was telling. He’d forgotten all about the breeding moon. He’d been too wrapped up in the idea of them. He hadn’t thought things through. Fuck. He was in deep shit now. There was no way he was ready to start a family. Hell, maybe it wasn’t his. Keep telling yourself that.

  TEN

  ONESSA WAS NERVOUS. She didn’t feel any differently. But she had no idea what to expect. She’d woken up in the middle of the night, and on her hip, in a pattern she was all too familiar with, was a mark. The same kind of mark that was tattooed on Cyr’s skin. Delia had said males would mark their females. She didn’t say anything about waking up with a mark.

  “All right, you wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”

  “Delila was wrong?”

  “Yeah, there’s no way you’re pregnant. You’re not my mate. Can’t happen. Impossible.” His voice was gruff, and she could see it in his eyes. He was scared. He was also lying. He couldn’t even look her in the face.

  “You’re scared, Cyr. Why won’t you look at me?”

  His eyes closed, and he shook his head. “I’m not scared. I was wrong. There’s a difference. I thought…I thought things were going to work out. They’re not.”

  “Are you serious? After everything we shared?”

  She wanted to hit something. Or, at the very least, throw something at Cyr to wake him up. How could he say he was wrong? That they were wrong? They were so right for each other it was scary.

  “Shared? Onessa, Delia put that whole destiny and fate thing in your head. She was trying to play matchmaker. None of it is real, okay. The females choose their mates. Males just know who they fit with. But it doesn’t matter. I was wrong. Blinded by your looks. I was horny, that was it.”

  “Horny? Seriously? What about the tattoo on my back?”

  “Coincidence.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit. Delia knows how to set the stage. She’s done it before, and she’s been wrong before.”

  “What about what Alaric said? He agrees, too. He said I carry your cubs.”

  “I can smell you, as well, and although you smell pregnant, it could just mean that you’re fertile.”

  “Just fertile? Not pregnant? You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, and besides, everyone is mating, who knows if—who—yo—” Before she could stop herself, Onessa reached out and slapped him. Her palm connected with his cheek and the bastard didn’t flinch.

  But he was right. She had been easy with him. She’d also been careless. If she were pregnant, she’d handle it on her own. She didn’t need his help, and she no longer wanted it.

  “Fuck you!” Onessa spat. She wasn’t about to stick around. She fled the room, but not before hearing his pathetic excuse for parting words.

  “I’m sorry, Onessa.”

  Yeah, he sure was. He was a sorry sack of shit.

  ELEVEN

  ONESSA WAS GONE. Cyr sat in his office, bourbon in hand, drinking straight from the bottle.

  “Una would be ashamed of you,” Alaric said from the door.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Well, she would. If my sister is watching you from beyond, she’s pissed as fuck. Guaranteed. Screwing up your only shot. Onessa is out there, alone. Pregnant with your cubs.”

  Cyr threw the bottle, and Alaric ducked. The sound of the glass breaking against the wall did nothing to calm the storm of emotions inside Cyr’s chest. He didn’t want to mar the memory of Una and his dead child by being with another woman. Tilly was right. Besides, he would have just repeated the horrific experience all over again with Onessa. He refused to suffer the loss. He wouldn’t go through that all again. It was better to lose her now rather than later.

  “Onessa is better off without me. She doesn’t need me, and I sure as fuck don’t need her.”

  “If that’s what you truly believe, brother, then I feel sorry for you.”

  “Well, don’t.”

  “Right. Well, in case you’re wonde
ring, I put her in a cab. She’s on her way to a hotel in town. She couldn’t catch a flight out till tomorrow. If you come to your senses, she’s in room 309 at the Holiday Inn Express.”

  “I’m in full use of my senses, which is why I’m gonna stay right here.”

  “Suit yourself, idiot.”

  Cyr stared at the wall in front of him. It was still wet from the bourbon with shards of glass wedged into the wall. I love you, Una. He did love his dead mate. But she no longer thrived in the land of the living. Had she and Onessa shown up to be mentored at the same time, what would have happened then? Nothing. Destiny would have found someone else for the human.

  Why would the fates give him another shot at happiness? He didn’t deserve it. He’d pushed Una, wanting to make a family with her to continue his legacy. I’m sorry, beauty. She’d given in, and he’d thought only of himself.

  With Onessa, she’d accepted him like Una had. Another human would have been broken by what they’d witnessed. But she hadn’t. She’d rolled with it. Even when he’d been nothing but a dick to her. Like Una, she’d sung to him. It didn’t matter when or where, if she was in a good mood or bad, Onessa was singing. There were nights when he’d come in from a run, and she would smile at him before turning back to the book she always read before bed. She didn’t mind if he laid down next to her in his cat form. She’d simply roll over and cuddle him.

  Onessa didn’t put up with his shit, either. Una was quiet and would give him whatever he wanted. Life had been easy with her. Life with Onessa would never be easy. She fought him till the bitter end on things. Kept him on his toes. Argued with him when he made the sauce too spicy and talked him into adding an extra pinch of brown sugar. She hogged the covers, and had crept her way inside of his life without ever meaning to.

  Cyr stood and rounded his desk, racing out into the kitchen where Alaric stood with the others.

  “Tank’s full. Go get your girl, dipshit.”

  He smiled. He didn’t need to be told twice. “Room 309?”

  “That’s what I said. Good luck.”

  Yeah, he would need it. It was going to take a lot of convincing to get Onessa to come back to his place. It would take a miracle for her to accept his proposal. But he wasn’t going to let her leave without apologizing and telling her how he felt.

  When he got to the hotel room, he was hit with the smell of wet dog and cheap beer. Her door was partially ajar, and dread slid down his spine at the thought of not being there to protect her. Cyr pulled out his phone and called Alaric.

  “Grab some of the boys. We have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “Beau has her.” Cyr ended the call and made another. He knew where she was and was pissed at himself for putting her in danger.

  Beau answered on the first ring.

  “It’s a shame I’ll have to rid her of your scent, but it will be fun.” Beau’s voice cracked over the phone. Cyr didn’t get a chance to say another word because the call disconnected.

  “He’s not coming for you.”

  “I just want to leave. I don’t know why you won’t just let me leave,” Onessa fumed. Her stomach hurt, and nausea was settling in, making her nervous. Especially being in the same room as Beau.

  “It’s simple, Cyriaque killed my cousin. Eddy was a damn fool; he wasn’t the smartest, but he was still my kin. I could let you go, but you carry his offspring. Your scent is strong.”

  “Please, let me leave.”

  “He has to pay,” Beau said between thin lips. He stood over her, his form tall and imposing. She wasn’t prepared for the pain. Beau was in front of her one minute, and the next, he stepped back and struck her full on in the face. The sound of his palm hitting her skin echoed into the empty room she was being held in. She hadn’t been there long, but long enough for Ed to come up to her and sneer into her face all the things he had planned for her body.

  “You’re a pig,” Onessa said after wiping the blood from her split lip.

  “No, honey, I’m a wolf, and if you don’t keep quiet, I will hand you over to Ed. And after, I may keep you around for my own pleasure. I tried to be cordial. Cyriaque started this, not me.”

  “Your cousins tried to rape me. Cyr saved me.”

  “Maybe, but he didn’t have to kill Eddy.”

  “So, it’s okay to harm innocents?”

  “There are rules here.”

  “Your rules suck ass.”

  That got her another slap across the face. This one harder, and this time, not only had he rung her bell, she saw stars. Bright white stars.

  TWELVE

  CYR, Alaric, and three of his best trackers walked Beau’s perimeter. There were at least twelve wolves on the property, and no sign of Onessa.

  “He must be holding her in one of the back rooms. I can’t scent her,” Alaric said.

  “No, I can smell her. But the scent of Beau’s wolves is overpowering it for you.”

  “Man, if that doesn’t tell you she belongs to you, what other sign are you looking for?”

  He didn’t need any other signs. She was his.

  “Alaric, focus. Beau isn’t going to hurt her, we just need to get in and get her out.” Beau wasn’t stupid, this was a play for more land. That’s what it always came down to with the wolves. Territory. He doubted whether this had much to do with Eddy’s death at all, but the wolf would use it to negotiate more property.

  “Right, I’ll take Ash, Remy, and Deck with me around the side. Take out the dogs there.”

  “I’m going in the front door. Use anything you can to subdue them.”

  “Roger that.”

  Alaric and others made their way towards the back of the property, and true to his word, Cyr walked in through the front door. No one stopped him. The acrid stench of fear and cherry blossoms tickled his nose. Onessa, she was upstairs in one of the bedrooms. There wasn’t anyone else in the house besides Cyr, Beau, and Onessa. Alaric and the others would see to the rest on the property.

  The smell of blood had his heart racing, and Cyr ran down the hall and burst through the closed door. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. Onessa was tied to a chair, blood dripping from her mouth. Her wrists were raw from the rope, and there was blood on her shirt.

  “Motherfucker!” he roared. His eyes were wild as he searched and found Beau standing next to a bookcase. The wolf grinned as he used his handkerchief to wipe blood from his hand.

  “Got carried away on that last hit. Girls out like a light.” Beau grinned, showing teeth.

  “I’m gonna fuck you up, Beau. I’m not gonna kill you, but I am going to hurt you. Bad.”

  If he killed Beau, that would start a war. They didn’t have the numbers for a war, or he’d taken the wolf out a long time ago. The cats’ numbers were small compared to the Leabauds’.

  “The girl is on my property, and as such, I claim her as mine. She’ll need to abort your babies, but you understand. What would it look like with her walking around carrying your offspring?”

  Cyr shifted into his cat and pounced. He didn’t wait, and neither did Beau. It was wolf against panther. They circled each other, looking for a weak spot. Cyr hissed before springing onto Beau’s back. He sank his teeth into the wolf’s neck, trying to subdue him, but was thrown off. When his back hit the bookcase, Beau attacked, grabbing hold of his leg. Cyr felt the sting but ignored it while being dragged across the room. Pain sliced into his veins as he ripped his back leg from Beau’s mouth.

  Cyr let out a roar and jumped, sending them both through the window of the second floor. Beau landed on his back, Cyr landed on his feet, but the force of the impact was enough to stun the wolf. Shifting quickly, Cyr stood over Beau and broke both of his legs. It wouldn’t stop him, but it was enough to slow him down. Werecats healed faster than shifter wolves, and the injury alone ensured that Beau would be out of commission for at least a couple of days.

  Cyr took the stairs two at a time. Onessa was still out, and Cyr cursed himself again as
he gently removed the ropes binding her and pulled her into his arms.

  “Baby, I’m so fucking sorry. I was a fool.” She didn’t respond, but he didn’t expect her to. Alaric came bursting through the door, covered in blood.

  “She gonna be okay?” Alaric asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. Need to get her home and have Delia take a look at her.” Cyr lifted her gently and followed Alaric back where the vehicles were parked on the side of the road. When he got into the truck, and Alaric placed Onessa in his arms, her shirt rose, exposing the side of her hip. There, for all to see, was the mother’s mark. It was a mark only females pregnant with cubs sported. She was going to give birth to his offspring. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d seen the mark or not, but it did bring a level of comfort that he wasn’t expecting.

  They would work things out.

  “Rest easy, chèr, your home.”

  Home.

  She wasn’t home. Home was California. She was still in crazy town. Her memory wasn’t gone. She’d gotten the taste slapped out of her mouth, not once but twice. Possibly three times. She’d passed out after the second hit. Her jaw hurt. Hell, everything hurt. There wasn’t a spot on her body that didn’t ache.

  “The babies?” she croaked.

  “Are fine. Just fine. I had Delia check you over,” Cyr said against her forehead. His lips were soft and warm.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “Because I’m hoping you’ll accept my apology.”

  She would have snorted, but she knew it would hurt to make an effort. So she said nothing.

  “I know I fucked up, baby.”

  Baby? When had they graduated to terms of endearment?

  “Colossal fuckup.”

  “Yeah, big time. But I need to say a few things to you. I need you to understand where I was coming from.” Cyr pulled back the sheets on the bed and crawled in next to her, pulling her gently into his arms. She winced a little but didn’t fight. “When Una died giving birth, I didn’t just lose her, I also lost my son. It was like being ripped into a million pieces. I stayed torn. I didn’t know how to handle the loss. I blamed myself because I wasn’t there when I should have been. Una was calm, she was quiet in all things. She was also not the strongest. It took a lot of effort for her to shift, but I didn’t care. I wanted what I wanted, and she gave in, never once questioning my actions or voicing any concerns. It wasn’t until you came into my life that the pieces started to mend back together again. But then I let Tilly put it in my head that I was wrong for wanting you. For wanting us. I don’t care if you’re my destined mate or not. I want this to work, and not because you’re going to have my babies. No, I want this because I want you. I need you.”