by KH LeMoyne
A confusing speech. Probably the longest Breslin had ever heard from Vendrick. “I get you’re angry, and I admit I was disrespectful. But I still don’t understand why the alpha wants me.”
“Why do you find it so hard to believe another alpha might value life? No wonder you became comrades with the bobcat. You both think alike.” He snorted and sank back in his seat, motioning the waitress for another piece of pie and a coffee refill. After she delivered it and made her way back to the kitchen, Vendrick continued. “Deacon Black is not responsible for Gauthier Karndottir’s lunatic tendencies. I’m not either. He wasn’t actually one of mine. But Black is also not at fault for his father’s negligence with regard to your family’s death. No more than you are. Or I am,” he said, waving his fork before he stabbed the fresh piece of pie, the red cherry filling dripping from the end.
“I know I couldn’t have saved them,” Breslin ground out a little louder than he intended. Several patrons at the counter glanced over their shoulders. He closed his eyes for a second, then swallowed hard as he met the amused expression on Vendrick’s face.
“It’s fair time you figured that out, boy. But for the record, if your alpha hadn’t personally sanctioned your every move over the last few decades, you would now be dead.”
“He’s not my alpha.”
“Really? What are you going to do? Disappear? There is no land not governed by one of the alphas.” Vendrick ignored him and finished his pie in two large forkfuls. Then he looked up. “Besides, he’d find you. Or have you forgotten all those nagging suspicions over the years you were being followed? Looking over your shoulder to find whoever was in the shadows? I taught you well. You knew better than to dismiss the idea just because you found nothing. But I trained him as well.”
“No alpha would make the time to follow me. If so, he could have made his own kills. Rendered his own justice. Besides, alphas never leave their sanctuaries.”
Vendrick took a long draw on his coffee, assessing him with a steely gaze. “Such irreverence for a man you’ve never met.”
“He’ll be no different than his father.” The man who’d lied to Breslin’s face after his parents’ death and promised him he’d get justice for Breslin’s parents. An alpha who’d turned his back on retribution and kept Breslin in a foster home in the sanctuary to appease his guilt over doing nothing to bring down the murderer of one of his own border patrol chiefs.
The coffee cup halted in midair. “He asked me to find a thirteen-year-old bent on self-destruction. Had me haul your half-dead carcass from Gauthier’s territory after you were stupid enough to tangle with his enforcers, and he argued that I should train you to survive. He’s provided you a safe venue to vent your anger—and oddly enough doing it by allowing you to serve the clan you shunned without forcing your oath.” Vendrick placed his coffee cup in the saucer with exaggerated care. “I’d say his actions put him in a completely different category from his father.”
Breslin leaned back until his head rested against the wood paneling of the diner wall and exhaled. Anger, betrayal, humiliation, confusion all surfaced, threatening to drag him back into defensiveness. Not a good strategy or one he respected. He was better than the whining child who took offense at Vendrick’s every word. “So now what?”
“Now you pay your debt to me by hauling yourself to the alpha. I have years invested in you. I don’t relish seeing you pushed over the edge and turning true rogue. Then I’d have to hunt you down. Don’t make me do that.”
11
The cottage Vendrick loaned them for the night was more along the lines of what Gillian considered a rather large estate. Two stories, stone exterior, and— “Seven bedrooms,” she leaned over the balcony and shouted down to Callum. “It’s enough to hold us and our six children.”
“Just what you’ve always wanted.” He tried for a smile, though his face creased without the characteristic dimple and light in his eyes. Still, it was better than the taut expression he’d held for the last hour of their train ride. Whatever Vendrick had done might be shielding Callum from being tracked by the enforcers, but she’d bet her eyetooth Karndottir had found another way to make her mate suffer.
She sauntered down the stairs and slid by Callum on her way to the kitchen. She picked up his audible swallow as she purposefully brushed her backside along the front of his trousers. Good. He should be yearning for her as she was for him. Let him think about easing that craving while she checked out the rest of the house supplies. They’d placed the fresh milk, a loaf of bread, eggs, and butter from the farmer next door into the fancy icebox in the kitchen.
She flipped open the pantry doors and stared in awe at a room the size of her mother’s kitchen back home. Fully stocked crocks of pickled—well, everything—lined the floor. Along with baskets of apples, potatoes, and other root vegetables. Strings of braided onions and garlic hung from hooks in the ceiling. Rows of canned fruit and vegetables lined several shelves. Smaller bins with lids were labeled flour, sugar, and cornmeal. No doubt, in a house like this, there had to be meat somewhere.
Damnation, she thought, her lips pursed. No excuse not to cook. Not that she had a clue how. Her mother had tried but given up once Gillian had set her sights on Callum and he’d made no secret of the fact he didn’t need a woman who cooked. Though he always praised her mother’s cooking, he’d also made no pretense of hiding the fact that Gillian was the one for him just the way she was. From then on, her mother had set her free to spend her time studying medical books.
She’d done her fair share of chores. Laziness wasn’t in her blood. She’d also earned a decent wage working for Doc, earnings she’d put right into her mother’s expenses jar.
She even dabbled in domesticity, once. By accident, she’d realized suturing a wound looked an awful lot like her mother’s embroidery stitches. She’d learned at her mother’s side how to master all the different knots and ties, which lasted for the better part of a month. One only needed so much experience before stitches were second nature. Just keep her away from the kitchen.
Callum’s firm hands pivoted her toward a seat at the table. “Sit. I can whip something up.”
“I’m not sure my stomach can stand you bringing in fresh game.” She gave him her best smile. “Just saying.”
“I found beef I cut into steaks in a cold room downstairs. Along with some salted meat we can have for breakfast.” Callum’s lips kicked up in a smile. She had to admit, he was trying. So why did she not buy his jovial air?
He bowed deep, swinging his hand wide with a flourish. “I also started a fire in the other room, and I’m sure there’s a skillet somewhere. We can throw some potatoes in the coals and have plenty to eat. It might be palatable with the seasonings your mother taught me how to use one day while you were off with Doc.”
Gillian sighed. She missed her mother, but bless her shrewd planning. They might be on the run, but they’d eat well. Hopefully, they could get her mother to join them once they settled into a home. Unless Callum made some other plan.
She bounced the baby in her arms, silently thanking Vendrick for the house, the food, and the wisdom in building next to a farm. The child had thrived on the goat’s milk, and the farmer next door had been beyond generous. He’d asked no questions and offered help should anything arise. What Vendrick did with all this food was anyone’s guess. When he’d given them directions, it seemed as if this wasn’t his main residence, but this was a lot of waste if no one lived here. Not to mention, how did one afford such property?
She shook her head and eyed Callum moving around the room. Vendrick wasn’t her focus. The man taking a butcher knife to a generous piece of beef was, and he needed all her efforts right now.
As if he could feel her attention, he glanced over his shoulder. “Your mother told me once that you could sew up an artery without losing sleep, but never to ask you to so much as boil an egg.”
She winced. “It’s not my fault I forgot they were on the stove. Doc had an emergency
and needed help. I do regret ruining my mother’s favorite pot.”
“I bought her a new one in Vancouver. She liked it so much, I was afraid she might set fire to the rest of them to get more.”
“Explains where all the new pots came from.”
He winked and turned back to what he was doing, more relaxed than any other time she’d seen during the trip. Even today, he’d spent the whole train ride rigid and expectant, as if another enforcer would appear out of thin air on the moving train.
Gauthier wasn’t that powerful. She knew as much. But whatever torment the alpha was leveling Callum’s way didn’t leave him with the luxury of perspective.
She, on the other hand, had plenty of perspective, all of it crystal clear. Gauthier’s hold on Callum needed to end. Tonight. But how she was going to convince her mate that actually mating with her would make him stronger, not make her weaker, was the problem.
“What do you think, little one?” she whispered only loud enough for the baby to hear. “How should I handle an alpha bobcat who wants to protect his whole world without help?”
Warm and tender, a sensation started in her chest and covered her arms. She stared at the baby. “You have an idea?”
The sensation pulled along her skin, soft and delicate as a chamois. Then her words from earlier echoed in her mind. “I’m open. Send whatever you need my way and feel safe…but don’t delay.” Not her thoughts, or even all her own words. Vendrick had issued the last warning. But the babe in her arms projected both memories.
The memory faded, but the impression didn’t. “You are incredible.” She kissed the baby’s head. An offer with a condition? This was going to take some work to tease, tempt, and woo her Callum into seeing things her way.
Her bobcat was alone—or at least he thought he was. A part of her wanted to give him a safety net, her forgiveness if he made a decision on his own that doomed them to be apart. But the grown woman in her knew she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t stand up to him and tell him what she needed. How they handled hardships would set the groundwork for their life together. This contest was just the first of a lifetime of decisions.
They both had dreams. Life, even an incredibly long shifter life, was too short to waste time on disagreement and decisions based on fear.
He might be afraid for her, but she didn’t share his fear. Deacon Black might turn out to be the alpha of nightmares, yet all evidence from the shifters in this territory indicated otherwise. Karndottir’s hold on Callum was the problem.
A hold she believed she could help him break. To do so, he needed to make the first step—mate with her. As partners, they could survive anything. As two floundering souls who longed for each other without finality, they had nothing.
A tiny kick within her belly caught her attention. She stroked over the bump as it moved. “Point made, my baby boy. And you most certainly aren’t nothing.”
At a clatter across the kitchen, she glanced up. Callum stood with his head hung and his fists on the counter. She could feel the struggle in the air, thick as the pressure before a large storm.
Tarnation. The alpha was jerking him again. She scooted her chair back, intending to join him. But he’d grabbed a towel and briskly wiped his hands as he headed for the hallway. “I’ll be back.”
No. She was losing her opportunity. “Callum.”
He turned at her call, his eyes wide and his jaw clamped tight.
“You don’t need to deal with this alone.”
“I’m not going to drag you down with me.”
She held up a hand. “I don’t need to be chained by an alpha oath to understand what’s happening here.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair, looking from side to side and anywhere but her.
“Callum Mann, don’t you dare make the mistake of thinking me some naïve innocent.”
His eyes zeroed back in on her as he opened his mouth to speak.
She slashed a hand through the air to stop him. “I bet you think you lost control and made love to me by accident.”
“Gilly.” His head dipped to the side, and he gave a slow shake as if ready to give her the “truth about how life really is” speech.
“You have no idea how long I plotted. How I waited until Doc was gone for the day and stocked the hayloft in his barn with blankets and towels. I even practiced slipping on the rocks at the edge of the creek so I could make sure we didn’t hit anything and I’d get good and soaked when I fell in.” His eyes widened, and he stared at her agape. “I wore the oldest, most threadbare top and tightest pants so you could see every bit of this.” She waved a hand down her body. “I’m not a little girl. I haven’t been for a long time. You treated me as if I was too young to have a mate’s needs and urges.”
His expression was hard to read, but she continued. “I wasn’t going to wait for years until you decided everything in the world was perfect for your plan—without even asking me.”
He ran a hand through his hair again. “I wanted you, Gillian. Waiting wasn’t easy for me either.”
“Then why put us both through that?”
“I wanted a way to escape with you first. Money for us to start fresh without struggling.”
Frustrated, she shook her head. “All I ever wanted was you. I’m capable. I can work. You don’t have to toil alone to provide for me.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it. After a tense moment of silence, he blew out a breath and looked away. “I can’t have you at risk because of the oath I took. If he finds you because of me, I won’t be able to live with myself.”
“I know you’re afraid for me,” she said more softly. “I don’t discount your worries, but you completely refuse to consider I may be right. I believe we are stronger together.”
“Once we cross the line, I can’t take it back and make you safe again.”
“So you can keep quiet to me about whatever it is he’s doing to you and pretend to push me away to save me from a fate you’ve decided I can’t handle.”
His mouth snapped shut, and he stood taller.
“You are making a choice about us without talking to me.”
“It’s my job to protect you.”
“Shifter children have protectors, not adults. Adults don’t plan to leave their mate at the entrance to the sanctuary and prepare to provide a distraction on their own.”
His hands fisted again, but he didn’t deny he was thinking about doing exactly that. Of course he would justify his actions by believing she was safer with a new alpha than with a mate bond. His fear of his alpha bond had him tied in knots. Be it positive thinking or naïvety, she didn’t believe he had no choices. If they tried her way and it didn’t work, then they lost nothing. If he left her without even giving them a chance to fight this together, then he basically discounted her as a worthy, strong mate. She couldn’t live with that. For either of them.
“What I want with you is a partnership, Callum. So I’ll make my offer. Tonight, I will be upstairs. Naked. Waiting for you to come love me and for us to complete our mating claims. You can show me once and forever we’re meant to tackle life side by side. But to be clear, if you don’t come to me, it will be the same as rejecting me.”
His eyes took on a gleam, and he started to shake his head. “No. It’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is. Because if I have to go to Black Haven tomorrow without you, it will be because you didn’t give me a choice with whom I mate and how I choose to live my life. We aren’t a couple or mates unless there are two of us in this relationship. As a grown woman, I want a partner, not a parent.”
Without another word, he stalked away. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent of the baby in her arms, seeking comfort from the one in her womb. “Please tell me he’ll choose us.”
For once, no sensations skittered through her body. Her child and the one in her arms gave her no comforting assurances. Right. She couldn’t really expect to have all her problems dictated by infants.
Grabbing a thick slice of bread Callum had slathered with butter, she made her way up the stairs. She’d lost her appetite but needed to eat something for her baby. This would tide her over until morning.
“Everything will be better in the morning,” she muttered to herself. He hadn’t spent years making sure she loved him more than anything on earth just to leave her now. Her Callum would realize their future together was stronger than his fears.
He would. He had to. Because she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Crickets chirped, and a lone owl hooted somewhere in the distance, but Callum noticed only the stillness. Crouching in his bobcat form on top of the rocks bordering the backyard of the cottage, he waited for warning of an enforcer lurking in the night.
Nothing echoed back to him through the moonless night. But the memory of the voice inside his head kept repeating.
You won’t die quickly. Neither will she. I will give her to my men first. She will be my warning to others not to betray their oath, and she will have you to thank for her suffering.
If Callum were grounded and rational, he’d be the first to admit the threats sounded melodramatic and over the top. But calm appraisal was beyond his grasp. Not to mention this threat was rather tame compared to the others he’d been living with for days now. The constant barrage of threats wore him down like persistent rain.
It also shamed him to know Gillian was right. If tomorrow he sensed an enforcer behind them, he’d planned to walk her to the entrance of the sanctuary and leave her in the protective care of Alpha Black while he detoured to keep Karndottir away from her. Black would accept an oath from a free and unmated female. She’d be safe. Safer than with him.
