“But it’s too small!” Kendra insists. “I have Mother and Father and Diana and Jarod and all my cousins and four best girl friends and three best boy friends and...” After a few minutes of this, Kendra begins running out of counting fingers as she lists her favorite aunts and uncles and friends, painting a picture of a communal life rich in love and friendship.
“Wanna see my drawings?” she asks my uncle, completely changing the subject. “I know all about mushrooms. I made a book of all the different types.” She pulls a stack of papers out of her bag, bound together haphazardly with twine. The pictures are all carefully rendered in ink, painted over with watercolors.
“Why, these are very well done, Kendra,” my uncle praises her. “Very well done indeed.” He turns to Gunther, smiling. “You have quite the young artist here.”
“She’s very talented, my Kendra,” Gunther agrees.
Kendra bashfully kicks her feet at the floor. “That’s what Uncle Hahn says, and Inger and Micah. They all think I’m really good. Do you know about mushrooms?”
“I do,” my uncle tells her. “It’s actually a bit of a hobby of mine. Why don’t we sit down and look at what you’ve done—if you’ll excuse us, Gunther? You have a delightful daughter.”
Her father nods, but Kendra’s attention is momentarily diverted by the appearance of her sister at Rafe’s side. She grabs at Diana’s arm. “You come, too, Diana!”
“Ah, Diana,” Uncle Edwin says, reaching over to pat her arm warmly. “Rafe has told me all about you, my girl. I can tell from his letters that he’s quite smitten.”
Diana’s smile widens. “It’s very nice to meet you, Edwin Gardner.”
“Come on!” Kendra’s tugging at them both now, wanting their attention back.
“All right, all right,” my uncle says, laughing along with Diana. The two of them are clearly delighted to be around a child, both of them patient and kind. It dawns on me that Diana will probably make a good mother someday. Mother to my brother’s children. It’s a strange thought—and a wonderful one, I realize.
Gunther turns to Rafe. “Diana tells me you know the woods around here quite well. Why don’t we take a walk, you and me? Get to know each other.”
There’s that teeth-bared grin again. It’s wildly disconcerting.
“I’d like that, sir,” Rafe says with a newly serious expression, seeming amazingly immune to Gunther Ulrich’s powers of intimidation.
“I’ll see you later, then,” Diana says, pulling herself away from Kendra long enough to wrap her arms around Rafe. She leans in to plant a quick kiss on his lips.
Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up at her boldness, and I can see the alpha’s jaw harden. My brother pushes Diana gently—but firmly—away and seems to be trying to convey to her via his expression that this is really not the time.
Diana just grins back at him, full of mischief.
CHAPTER TEN
TRAPPED
Gunther and Rafe leave together, and I find myself momentarily alone. Trystan has fallen into polite conversation with Diana’s mother, Daciana, who seems mystified to find herself speaking to him, and the remaining Lupines are talking among themselves.
Jarod is standing apart from the others, staring across the room, his face ashen. I follow his gaze to find that Aislinn has just come in with her family—her parents and sisters, some of her sisters’ children and Randall, along with a stern couple I assume are Randall’s parents.
Aislinn’s father, an authoritarian-looking man with a close-cropped beard and military bearing, catches sight of the Lupines. His face takes on a look of fury, his lips pulling into a tight line of abhorrence as he quickly ushers his family to a table in the corner of the hall farthest from us.
The children’s eyes grow wide with fear as they spot the Lupines. Their mothers lean in to comfort them as the children pull in to cling to their mothers’ skirts. All of the adults, except for Aislinn, pointedly make the holy gesture to ward off the stain of the Evil Ones.
Aislinn looks positively heartbroken as she takes a seat, silent and pale, staring down at the table in front of her. Her eldest sister, Liesbeth, seems oblivious to this as she begins chatting merrily with Randall. Aislinn’s sister Auralie frantically chases her children around, her eyes fearfully darting over to the Lupines every so often, while Aislinn’s mother sits quietly with Randall’s parents, her expression despondent.
“Jarod,” I say as I approach him.
“This is a farce,” he says, his voice strained. “She doesn’t want him. Look at her—she’s miserable. She wants to be with me, yet she fights it.”
“But you know why, Jarod. It’s because of her family. She’s worried about her mother and her sister—”
“She can’t help them,” he says furiously. “She won’t change anything by fasting to Randall. They’re going to just drag her down into their misery. They already have.”
Randall absently puts his hand on Aislinn’s arm, and Jarod’s expression turns violent.
“He wants her, though,” he grinds out, his lips pulling back to show his canines. “He wants her and practically every young woman who gets within a few feet of him. He doesn’t love her—she’s completely interchangeable to him. Your men are pathetic.”
“Jarod,” I say cautiously, “let’s go get something to drink.”
He fixes his wild eyes on me. “I’m not thirsty.” Jarod’s lips pull back farther, exposing even more of his teeth.
“I don’t care,” I say firmly. “Let’s go anyway.”
He glances back at Aislinn and her family, as if weighing the options—get a drink, or rip Randall’s head off. Then his fierce gaze darts back to meet mine, and I fight the urge to shrink back from him. “You need to step away from this for a moment and collect yourself,” I tell him. “Or you’re going to do something you’ll regret.”
“I don’t know that I’d regret killing him,” he says evenly.
“You don’t have to kill him right now,” I say, attempting to keep my voice light.
Jarod considers this. “True.” His jaw tenses, and he takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. Then, to my great relief, he relents and goes with me to get something to drink from a table set up near to the kitchens.
Far away from Aislinn and her family.
* * *
Jarod and I sit, drinking hot cider, his eyes still finding their way back to Aislinn every now and then. But he seems to have calmed down a bit, the uncharacteristic violence in his amber eyes now dimmed.
“I have some concerns about Rafe and Diana,” I say to Jarod, trying to draw his attention away from Aislinn.
He shoots me a slightly indignant look.
“Jarod, I like Diana, you know that,” I clarify. “She’s actually perfect for Rafe. And I can picture Rafe fitting in well with your people in some ways. But my brother has never been a follower. I’m not sure this is going to work. Not the way Diana wants it to.”
“He wouldn’t have to follow for long.”
This catches me off guard. “I don’t understand.”
Jarod looks at me as if I should have figured this out by now. “Elloren, Rafe’s alpha material.”
“I thought Diana was likely to be next in line.”
“Perhaps, but I suspect when Rafe becomes Lupine, he might best even her.”
I start to laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. My brother, the alpha of a Lupine pack. A Gardnerian alpha. The grandson of Carnissa Gardner, no less.”
Jarod’s lip lifts, and it’s good to see him almost smile. But then he glances back toward Aislinn, and the smile disappears. “Every time Randall touches her, I feel like going over there and separating his arm from the rest of his body.”
“Not a good idea.”
“I don’t know, Elloren, it seems like a better and better idea the longer I sit here.” He sh
oots Randall a look of pure loathing before turning back to me. “I have met so many of your fasted couples who have no interest in each other. Or the males are interested, and the females feel anything from indifference to outright revulsion. Are your men so cruel and sense blind that they’re content to mate with women who don’t want them? And why is it your women act like mating is something shameful? It’s bizarre.”
“Mating is considered sinful in our religion,” I try to explain. “Its sole purpose is to bring forth as many Mages as possible. Mating for any reason beyond that is considered immoral. We’re supposed to rise above our base natures. Not be like wild things, like...”
“Like us? Like shapeshifters?”
I let out a dismayed sigh. “Basically.”
Jarod’s stare is hard and unwavering. “That’s truly awful, Elloren.”
I look down, swallowing hard, thinking about what my own future might look like. “You’re right. It is.”
“So, you wandfast people with no thought as to whether they truly love each other.”
“And at younger and younger ages,” I dolefully add. “My neighbor Sage Gaffney was fasted at thirteen.”
Jarod’s face has taken on a deeply troubled look. “The woman with the Icaral child.”
I nod. “Her fastmate beat her, so she ran away from him.”
Jarod winces. “I’ve read your sacred book, you know,” he says, his tone grim. “Trying to understand Aislinn. The first part is truly hideous. It’s so full of hatred for anyone outside of your kind. I read this book, and I see why it doesn’t matter how much I love Aislinn. She’ll never be free of this awful religion...”
Jarod’s voice trails off, and I look up to find his mother approaching us from across the room. As she nears our table, Daciana’s eyes light on me, her expression turning wary. It’s clear she wishes my brothers and I would go away and leave her family alone.
I focus on my cider as Daciana sits down, ignoring me, and asks a sullen Jarod about his University studies. As they talk, her concerned expression deepens. Every now and then her eyes dart over to view me suspiciously, perhaps trying to see if I’m to blame for the change in her son. Jarod tries not to look at Aislinn—I can see it in the way he holds himself, so stiff and unmoving, but he can’t resist for long.
He glances over at her for a split second as his mother is telling him about a relative’s new twin girls. Daciana breaks off mid-sentence. Her head jerks around to see who Jarod just glanced at, her gaze immediately zeroing in on Aislinn. Dawning horror washes over her face. “Oh, Blessed Maiya, Jarod...”
Jarod looks down at the table, his hands tightly clasped in front of him.
“Sweet Maiya...tell me it’s not true.”
Jarod doesn’t answer her.
“Of all the girls you have met—” his mother’s voice breaks “—all the beautiful, strong Lupine girls we’ve introduced you to—this is the girl you want?” For a long moment, Jarod’s mother seems too stunned to speak further. “Do you know who that girl’s father is?”
“I’m well aware who her father is,” Jarod says stiffly.
“Does this girl... Does she know how you feel about her?”
“Yes.”
“What’s happened?” Daciana asks, an edge of panic to her voice.
“Nothing, Mother. Nothing’s happened,” Jarod spits out. “She’s to be wandfasted to a Gardnerian she doesn’t love, and who doesn’t love or deserve her.”
Daciana shakes her head in fervent regret. “Your father and I have made a grave mistake sending you both to this University. If we had known that you would both fall in love with Gardnerians...”
Jarod looks up at her, his amber eyes gone hard. “What, Mother? What would you have done? Perhaps the Lupines should start wandfasting, as well. It’s such a wonderful tradition. Look at Aislinn Greer, Mother. Look how happy it’s making her.”
“Jarod—”
“No, Mother, I’m serious. You could have wandfasted Diana and me before we came of age, forced us into mating pairs with the Lupines of your choice.”
“It doesn’t work that way with us—”
“I’m well aware it doesn’t work that way for us!” Jarod growls. “It doesn’t work that way for anyone!”
Daciana shakes her head, distraught. “You can’t have this girl, Jarod.”
“I know I can’t have her,” Jarod says, his voice harsh and bitter. “But you shouldn’t trouble yourself. It’s not a concern, since she refuses to have me.”
“My son...”
Jarod gets up abruptly. “Please, don’t tell me that everything will be all right.” He holds up a hand as she starts to speak. “Because nothing is all right. Nothing in this entire world is all right.” Jarod storms out of the hall, choosing an exit far from Aislinn.
Daciana sits frozen for a moment, as if she’s trapped in a bad dream. Then she shoots me a look of hatred and follows her son out.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUPINE AMAZ
The crimson-eyed Lupine boy runs toward me, giggling and clutching a branch of decorative Yule pine. Flame-haired Brendan chases after him, catching him up in his strong arms as the child shrieks in delight.
The huge, rune-tattooed man, Ferrin, strides toward his son and Brendan, smiling broadly at their antics.
“So, you’re beta to the pack,” I say to Ferrin as Brendan sets the squirming little boy down and the child takes hold of his father’s hand.
Ferrin smiles good-naturedly, towering over me. “I am.”
“Diana told me a bit about you,” I say. His son giggles and breaks free from Ferrin’s loose grip, running back across the hall. Brendan rolls his eyes and tears after him, leaving me alone with Ferrin. “She said you were a baby when you joined the Lupines.”
“I was. They found me, abandoned in the woods, nearly starved to death.” He recounts this impassively, and I marvel at this hard fact. He’s bigger than Andras. It’s hard to picture him ever having been small and sickly.
“Gunther’s sister took me in,” Ferrin explains. “She raised me as her own.”
Something behind me catches his attention, and I turn to see Andras and Tierney entering the hall.
The two of them have struck up an unlikely friendship since we all met Es’tryl’lyan. Andras’s love of horses has easily extended to embrace Tierney’s terrifying Kelpies, and the Kelpies, in turn, have become warily friendly with Andras.
I was surprised to see the two of them fall in with each other so quickly, since Tierney is usually reluctant to trust anyone, but Andras’s steady nature seems to be the only thing that soothes her these days.
Andras catches sight of Ferrin and blinks in surprise, and I realize that the Lupine beta is likely the only other male Amaz Andras has ever seen.
Ferrin straightens as Andras and Tierney approach. “I am Ferrin Sandulf,” he says to Andras, holding out his hand. “Beta of the Gerwulf Pack.”
“I am Andras Volya,” Andras introduces himself in turn, shaking Ferrin’s hand, “son of Astrid Volya.”
Ferrin’s eyes widen. “You are Andras?”
Andras looks questioningly at him, seeming puzzled by the strong response to his name. “I am.”
“Sorcha Xanthippe,” Ferrin continues, his face serious. “You paired with her?”
“Yes, as is our custom...”
“But, Sorcha...about three years ago...you lay together?”
“Yes.” Andras’s brow knits together in confusion.
Ferrin’s face becomes oddly grave as he looks across the dining hall. “Soraya,” he calls out. “Will you come here?”
His mate nods at him and makes her way over to us, holding their little boy in her arms. Her pleasant smile falters as she takes in Ferrin’s serious expression.
“This is Andras Volya,” Ferrin tells her pointedly,
gesturing toward Andras. “Sorcha Xanthippe’s mate.”
Soraya’s crimson eyes take on a look of astonishment, and her gaze immediately makes its way from Andras to the child in her arms and back again. For a moment, she seems utterly dumbfounded.
“Andras Volya,” Soraya finally says, her voice filled with emotion. “This is Konnor. Your son.”
Tierney and I gasp, and Andras’s mouth falls open in shock, his eyes riveted on the boy. Little Konnor smiles shyly at him as he clings tightly to Soraya.
“Sorcha brought him to us,” Ferrin explains, laying a steadying hand on Andras’s shoulder. Andras is frozen, stunned into silence.
“Would you like to hold him?” Soraya asks gently. When he fails to respond, she comes closer, offering the toddler out to Andras.
Konnor looks up at him, unafraid as Andras lifts him into his strong arms. The boy reaches up with small fingers to touch the side of Andras’s face, tracing the lines of his rune-tattoos.
Andras begins to cry.
Ferrin and Soraya move to embrace him, and Konnor’s eyes dart around at everyone, as if confused. He reaches up to touch the silent tears falling from Andras’s eyes with a tiny fingertip.
“You are part of our family now,” Soraya tells Andras, her own eyes brimming with tears.
“I never thought I would find a place for myself anywhere,” Andras replies, voice rough. “I thought my mother and I would always be alone.”
“There are others like you,” Soraya explains. “There are four men with Amaz ancestry in the Northern pack.”
Little Konnor, perhaps put off by all the strong emotion surrounding him, fidgets agitatedly and reaches for his mother. Andras kisses the top of the child’s head and hands him back to Soraya.
“Come, Andras,” Ferrin says, placing a hand on his arm. “There is much to discuss.”
Andras turns to Tierney, his face a tumult of emotion as they exchange a weighty glance.
“Go,” she says, forcing a rare smile. “I’m so happy for you.”
Andras nods, then departs with the Lupines.
My eyes meet Tierney’s. I can see everything she’s feeling in her troubled expression—how this friend she’s rapidly grown so close to will likely be absorbed into a Lupine world she is completely shut out of, because Tierney has no desire to be anything other than what she is.
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