by Carol Davis
Katrin looked miserably uncomfortable for a minute, then her face brightened. Abby turned to see what had caught her attention and spotted Aaron and Luca coming out of the woods.
When they reached the path, Luca turned away, heading deeper into the village, and Aaron walked toward the two women. As he came closer, Katrin slipped quietly away, and Abby felt a pang of regret for asking her about Micah. She’d have to apologize later, she told herself. After all, none of what had happened was really Katrin’s fault.
It wasn’t Aaron’s, either. She had nothing to blame him for, nothing to find fault with.
“Will you show me around some more?” she asked when he reached her. “I want to see the rest of the village.”
That got rid of the frown he’d been wearing.
He led her first to where half a dozen small children were playing: two girls and four boys, all dressed in simple pants and shirts. A couple of them were tossing a big red ball to each other, and the others were busy constructing something elaborate out of rocks and sticks. It was impressive, given that the children couldn’t have been older than three or four.
“How many children live here?” Abby asked.
“At the moment, eleven small ones. Two are infants. And four adolescents.”
She saw something in his eyes as he watched the children playing, something she’d never seen in Lane’s. He was ready and willing to play with the little ones if they asked, to either toss the ball or help gather more rocks and sticks. It made her want to hug him, because it was a sign that he’d be a doting father.
Father? Ouch.
That was pushing things a little too far into the future. She wasn’t ready to think about children, although she was going to run out of the birth control pills she’d been diligently taking in another couple of weeks. That made her wonder if the shipments Katrin had talked about included any sort of birth control.
And if she really wanted them to.
“You like children,” she said quietly, looking up at Aaron.
“I do.”
“Would you—I mean—do people have a lot of them? Or just a few?”
He smiled as one of the little girls caught the ball and held it against her chest as if she intended to keep it. “We have limited resources,” he explained. “Two or three offspring is customary.”
He was silent for a minute, then he reached out and looped an arm around Abby’s waist. “The outside world is very large,” he mused. “But our world can be very large too. It depends on what you make of it. If you open all your senses to it and delight in what you have, rather than yearning for other things.”
Something caught Abby’s eye: a teenage couple lurking in the shadows of what Abby thought might be the schoolhouse. They were pressed close together, kissing lightly, exploring each other with their lips.
Aaron had seen them too.
“They won’t deny us, will they?” Abby asked with a catch in her voice. “The elders. They have to say yes.”
Aaron dipped his chin. To Abby, it didn’t really look like a nod. “They have a lot to think about,” he told her solemnly. “A great deal to decide.”
“But they won’t say no. They can’t say no.”
This time, to Abby’s dismay, all Aaron did was sigh.
Seven
Dinner with Aaron’s family was an awkward event from start to finish. By the time Abby got there, Luca had already told his parents about Lane being on the island, and while they were less outwardly upset than Luca was (which wasn’t difficult to accomplish, given that he almost constantly seemed to be annoyed about something), the problem was clearly on their minds.
A couple of times, Abby opened her mouth to assure them that everything would be all right, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually say it.
You really don’t have any idea if everything’s okay, or not.
“You look good,” she said to Luca, hoping a different subject would be all right to venture into.
He flexed his shoulders, and she remembered the deep stab wounds that had been there. “Stiff,” he said. “But improving.”
“That’s good. That you can heal like that.”
“It’s a gift to our kind.”
Humans could heal too, she reminded herself, sometimes from very serious injury or illness. What happened to the wolves seemed to be an amped-up version of that. Maybe their immune systems were on overdrive, constantly battling infection, keeping them strong and healthy?
“Do you—” She stopped herself again, wondering if the wolves cared much about sticking to polite dinner conversation. “I’m just curious. Do you get cancer? Things like… Parkinson’s, or diabetes, or whatever?”
“No,” Aaron’s father said.
“Really?”
He speared a chunk of meat and put it into his mouth, chewed it quickly and somewhat ferociously, and swallowed. It made her wonder why he was in such a rush; this wasn’t the wild, after all, and no one was likely to try to steal his dinner off his plate. The rest of the family seemed to be in no hurry to finish, so maybe it was a quirk that belonged only to Jeremiah. Maybe he did everything in a rush.
That made her feel sorry for Rachel, Aaron’s mother, and she had to hide a smile.
“Our bloodline is strong,” Luca said.
That wasn’t hard to believe. Everyone here seemed to be tall, strong, healthy, and very active—except for Granny Sara, who, Abby reminded herself, was human. Sara also looked a lot older than any of the wolves, even the elders.
“The humans would use us for study,” Jeremiah said, eyeing another chunk of meat. “That’s another reason we’re wary. None of us wants to end up in a laboratory, so that human doctors can pick apart our cells. We were given a gift by the gods. If the gods had meant for humans to share that gift, they would have given it to everyone.” He peered at Abby, his attention razor-like.
“Sure,” Abby stammered. “I understand.” Which was true; she wouldn’t have wanted to be a lab rat, either.
No diseases, she mused. Strong bones and teeth.
It occurred to her, suddenly, that even though Granny Sara looked older than any of the wolves, some of them might be a lot older than Sara. She’d assumed Aaron was somewhere in his mid-twenties and Luca a little older, which would make their parents fifty-ish.
What if they were all a lot older than that?
Abby poked at her food for a while, taking small bites and chewing them thoughtfully. Meat, potatoes, vegetables—it reminded her of the meals they’d always had when she was a little girl, the same classic fare that her father had gotten used to during his own growing-up years.
This tasted better, though. Richer and more flavorful.
No chemicals, she thought. Everything’s fresh.
“We’ve had no humans living under this roof before,” Jeremiah said abruptly.
Aaron’s fork clattered against his plate. “Father,” he said firmly. “We’ve talked about this. We won’t be living under this roof.”
“We’ll build another room.”
“You don’t need to build another room.”
Jeremiah’s nostrils flared. “My house isn’t good enough for you?”
So much was the same, Abby thought. Parents making decisions that they expected to be obeyed without question. Parents addressing their grown offspring as if they were still children, incapable of making long-term plans and taking care of themselves.
Would Rachel speak up? Was her attitude toward her sons any different from Jeremiah’s?
No wonder both Luca and Aaron seemed so balky.
“Some of the families live all together,” Aaron told Abby quietly. “Several generations in the same house.”
With Jeremiah in charge, Abby thought. Swell.
Yes, everything would be the same. She’d be back in her father’s house, eating the same kind of meals, no doubt going to bed and getting up in the morning at what Jeremiah thought were the right times. Being told to get out of the bathroom before she wa
s finished… although, no, there was no bathroom here. Maybe she’d be told to get out of the outhouse before she was done.
The strength seeped out of her limbs, and she laid her fork down carefully on the table.
To her relief, mealtime ended not long after that, and when she moved to help Rachel clear the table, Rachel nudged her gently aside and gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you and Aaron sit outside for a while?” she suggested. “Enjoy what’s left of the day. Or he could show you the place where the sunset is the most beautiful.”
But Aaron was talking with his father. Both of them were keeping their voices low, but their tempers were plainly visible.
“Come,” Luca said.
Abby frowned at that. What in the world could Luca want with her? She was ready to decline, but Luca already had the door open, so she nodded in reluctant agreement and followed Aaron’s brother outside.
The sun was already very low in the sky. It wouldn’t be long before it disappeared behind the pines.
“It’s a show,” Luca said, glancing back at the house.
“What is?”
“Father is the head of our family. Of our house. He has to make it appear as if…” He sighed, making himself look more vulnerable than Abby had seen him since he’d gotten out of his sickbed. “Do you understand ‘alpha’?”
“Sure.”
“Do you?” Luca pressed.
“Apparently not, then. But my father was in charge of our house. We had to be quiet when he said. Let him make all the decisions.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
A narrow beam of sunlight landed on Luca’s neck, highlighting a pale white scar running from just below his ear down over his shoulder onto his chest. It disappeared underneath his shirt. It was no wider than a strand of uncooked angel hair pasta. It wasn’t a remnant of his stab wounds, which meant he’d been hurt another time, and probably seriously.
When Abby thought about being torn open like that, it made her wince.
“You need strength,” she said. “You need everyone to understand that they can’t challenge you.”
“I challenged my father, several years ago. I wanted to stay on the mainland.”
“You did?”
Nodding, Luca looked off into the distance. “There was a human girl,” he said, his tone making it plain that this was a confidence, something she shouldn’t feel free to talk about whenever the urge struck her. “We weren’t—I felt something that I thought might be the pull of the bond, but I wasn’t sure. I did know I loved her. I couldn’t imagine leaving her, so I sent word to my father that I wanted to stay on the mainland and build a life there. It seemed like a good choice at the time. I’d gotten used to being around humans. I thought everything would be fine.”
Abby ventured, “But it wasn’t?”
“There was nowhere to run. Nowhere that I could set the wolf free.”
“I’m sorry.”
Luca looked deep into her eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to determine whether she really meant that—and how he should feel about it if she did. “We seem to have a fondness for humans,” he said. “My brother and I. I thought it would cause him grief. It did for me. All my father sees is that we like to create complications for him.”
“Maybe that’s what children are supposed to do.”
He grinned crookedly. “Maybe so.”
Abby was silent for a minute, watching the shifting colors of the clouds surrounding the setting sun. “What was she like?” she asked, although she wasn’t sure how Luca would react. “The girl.”
“Funny.”
“That’s a plus.”
“Warm. Her laughter was… wonderful. Her eyes were very blue.”
“You still love her, don’t you?”
He trailed his fingers over the scar on his neck, scratching it a little. “It could be that I love something I’ve put together in my mind. It’s been a long time. I may not remember her accurately.”
“Did she know about… what you are?”
“No.”
“You never told her.”
“I planned to.”
He seemed more and more restless, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze moving constantly around. He didn’t want his father to overhear their conversation, Abby supposed; more than likely, Luca’s lost love was still a bone of contention between them, and might always be.
“Katrin is a fine female,” he said suddenly.
Startled, Abby couldn’t think of anything to say—and more so, what the right thing to say would be—for a minute. Then she thought of how badly Katrin wanted Luca to care for her the same way she cared for him.
“She seems very nice,” Abby suggested.
“So everyone says. She would be a good mate. An excellent mate. We’ve known each other since we were children. Nothing about her would come as a surprise.”
He didn’t need to explain what he meant. He’d loved that his mainland girl had surprised him, loved discovering new things about her. That was one of the best parts of getting to know someone new, Abby thought: discovering all their pieces and parts. She was finding that with Aaron, each day bringing something new, even if it was something as small as seeing him react to the sound of a child’s laugh or a cluster of wildflowers.
Or her little blue bra.
“Could you go back?” she whispered.
Luca frowned. He seemed frozen in place for a moment, then he shook his head. “It’s not done. It’s not ever done.”
“I think you need to know. I think you need answers.”
He seemed like a man full of scars, most of which had nothing to do with his battle with Micah. Abby was tempted to embrace him, to offer some comfort, then was afraid that that was something the wolves didn’t do. Aaron touched her constantly, but she was his mate. Would something deep inside him react violently to her embracing his brother? The last thing she wanted to do was instigate another battle.
“I need to run,” Luca said without quite looking at her. “I need to set the wolf free. Have a pleasant evening.”
He was gone, running silently into the woods before she could respond.
She stood looking in the direction he’d taken, arms wrapped around herself, as the shadows around her began to deepen.
Then she heard Aaron say, “I need you.”
Eight
The sound of his voice sent a tingle up through her body, a sudden, prickling heat that made her shiver. It had only been a few hours since they’d made love at the cabin, but that suddenly seemed like far too long. When she turned to him, his eyes were half-closed, his mouth open just a little.
She wanted that mouth on her: on her lips, her breasts, her sex. Right here, right now, no matter who might be watching.
Hey. Since when do you do it in front of an audience?
The bulge at the front of his jeans showed her that he’d probably be willing, particularly since part of him was a wild animal. She thought she remembered him saying something about other couples making love out in the woods, in clearings where others might pass by, and she had to admit the idea was exciting.
Oh my GOD, Abby.
Grinning, she went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He dove in immediately, his lips and tongue claiming hers as if they’d been separated for months. He gripped her upper arms in his hands, breathing heavily, urgently, his eyes pressed closed now, then fully open and searching, as if he couldn’t bear not being able to see her.
“Do you—” she gasped when he let her take a breath.
“What?”
Heat rose into her face. Was she really going to suggest this? “When you—do they—is it ever—”
Aaron’s eyebrows went up.
She had to be as red as a brick. Chagrined, she lowered her gaze to his chest, to avoid those piercing eyes. “I was just wondering,” she whispered, “if when you—all of you, not just you—do it out in the woods, do—”
This one time, she wish
ed fervently that he’d understand what she was thinking.
Instead, he said, “I might be able to answer you if you could complete the question. I can guess, but—”
“Do you watch each other have sex? I mean, you’re wolves. And real wolves don’t exactly book a hotel room.”
Aaron started to laugh softly, shaking his head. It was her nervousness he was chuckling at, she realized, and not the question itself, because he’d cupped her rear end in his hands and was feeling her up out in front of his parents’ house, with pretty much anyone in the village liable to walk by at any moment.
Including his brother. And his parents. And—she shuddered—the elders.
“Would you like that?” he asked.
“I—I don’t know.”
“You’re right,” he said, hands still roaming. “We can sometimes be more relaxed about it than humans. But it’s usually the young ones who do that, so they can demonstrate that they’ve come of age and are ready for mating. It can be very entertaining to watch. They’re very enthusiastic.”
Like watching sexy DVDs, she supposed. She’d done that a few times, with a guy who claimed it was a fun way to get into the mood. On the other hand, this would be people she was going to have to live with and talk to.
“Why don’t we save that for later?” Aaron suggested.
A sudden sound caught his attention, and he turned an ear toward the woods, at first curious and then… what? Relieved? Content?
Abby tried focusing her less powerful human hearing and after a minute was able to identify the sound as the cry of a wolf. The animal didn’t sound like it was in distress; more like it was simply saying, I’m here.
“Luca,” Aaron said.
“Is he all right?”
“Let’s not talk about my brother.”
Without waiting for an answer, he took Abby’s hand and led her away from the house into a pretty grove of young trees. There was enough sunlight left that the place seemed dreamlike, something out of a fairy tale.
