by Moira Rogers
“Mmm. Road trips, perhaps, but we do tend to advise people in crisis to avoid major life changes. Things like changing jobs, marriage, moving, fomenting revolutions and patricide.”
“Yeah. That last one, I’m maybe going to have to talk to you about. But the rest of it…feels good.”
The corner of Callum’s mouth ticked up. “I can tell. You’re grounded again, and that’s an important start. Some people go through their lives without finding something that gives them purpose, which is a pity. Purpose brings immeasurable strength.”
He spoke from experience, an experience that Julio hadn’t quite trusted before he’d left New Orleans and figured out that some things were stronger than blame and self-doubt. Things like tenacity, like giving a shit about more than yourself. “I have things to do. I told you that before, and it hasn’t changed. But it’s not a job anymore. It’s a way for me to make people’s lives better, and I’ll take it.”
“Good.” But darkness shadowed the word, a renewed tension Julio could see in the empath’s tight shoulders and tiny frown. “Remember to stay grounded. It’s easy to lose yourself in the lives you can touch. To be swept away. You can give those who look to you hope and happiness and safety, but before you can give anything, you need to have it in your own life.”
“We’re not talking about me anymore, are we?”
Callum didn’t look away from Sera and her mother. “We’re talking about you learning from the experiences and mistakes of others.”
Callum’s experiences and mistakes. “You don’t think my situation is a little different?”
“In most of the ways you’d notice and none of the ways that matter. It’s the urge at the heart of it. You want to help people. The stronger you are, the more you can accomplish.”
“I’ll remember that,” he promised, then nodded toward the garden. “Think it’s time yet?”
“Very nearly.” The empath finally turned to face Julio. “I’ve been working with her since you called me. The charms Patrick provided will mask your scent, and scent has always been her strongest trigger. Approach slowly, and hold your ground if she challenges you. Be what you are, Julio. A dominant protector. Sera’s protector, because that’s what Kelly needs to know.”
Maybe so, but rushing things could cause an ugly scene that would only upset Sera. “If we need to hold off, we can.”
“Don’t flinch now, Mendoza. You can do this. I won’t let it get out of hand.”
“Right.” Julio shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down the stone path. Sera sat with her back to him, and he caught Kelly’s gaze and held it as he approached.
Anger tightened the older woman’s eyes. She flowed to her feet as Julio drew close and put her body in front of Sera’s. “Run, honey. You need to run.”
“Mom, no.” The sunlight caught on Sera’s engagement ring as she rose and grabbed her mother’s arm. “This is him. This is Julio. He won’t hurt either of us.”
Kelly dragged in a deep breath, tasted the wind—and froze. A furrow appeared between her brows. “What are you?”
“I’m a wolf,” he answered quietly. “And I’m Sera’s fiancé.”
She blinked at him. “Sera’s not a wolf.”
“I know that. Don’t really care.”
For a few seconds she looked baffled, so comically confused it might have been grimly amusing under other circumstances. Then a shrewdness narrowed her eyes, a glint of pure cunning. “You won’t feel bad about killing coyotes.”
“I won’t kill anyone unless I have to.” He reached for Sera’s hand. “But no one is going to hurt her.”
Kelly caught his wrist, her slender fingers closing tight enough to bruise. When he didn’t tear his arm away, she released him and took a careful, cautious step back, herding Sera behind her.
Sera’s hopeful expression had started to crumple. Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe we should come back another day.”
“Hush.” Kelly still watched him, her narrowed eyes staring at him as if she could see more than just the physical world. She cocked her head and listened to the wind as it teased at the flowers on the tree above their heads.
The scent of magnolias curled around them. Sera shifted her stance, giving him a helpless look that melted into hope as Kelly returned to her chair. “Mama?”
Kelly arched one eyebrow. “I’m waiting for a proper introduction. You weren’t raised in a barn, Seraphina.”
Sera cleared her throat and slipped her hand into Julio’s. Her fingers trembled until they clenched tight, clinging as she forced out the too-casual words. “Mom, this is Julio Mendoza.
He’s a member of the Southeast council, and I’m going to marry him. Soon.”
“Julio Mendoza.” Kelly Sinclaire smiled. “Welcome to the family.”
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