Although he never thought about that time, even went out of his way to prevent those years from crossing his mind, the memories slammed into him now as if they’d been lying in wait for the ambush. The pack he’d belonged to had gone running, and he and Sara had been separated, not unusual for Full Moons. The wolf wanted what it wanted during those nights, and Sara liked the freedom to run as fast as she craved, while he preferred hunting. He also hadn’t wanted his Alpha to know he could shift back to his human form if he so desired. His Alpha had been kind, but seeing Beaux’s power would have made the indulgent Alpha nervous.
Beaux should have insisted Sara stay with him. She was his mate; whether she liked it or not, she’d have done what he said. Only he hadn’t been worried. Back then, he had yet to learn the true tragedies of life always took him by surprise.
He’d heard the shot in the distance, and, as he approached, he smelled Sara’s blood. Then it all went red. When he’d come to, he’d been human again, his mate was dead, and so was the hunter who had shot her. Sara had died from a bullet tearing into her, and the man who killed her had ended his life in the grip of Beaux’s teeth and claws.
And Beaux didn’t remember any of it.
“Your Healer couldn’t help her?”
She stared him straight in the eyes..
“No.” He shook his head. “I guess she tried. Our Alpha told me she did. I don’t remember.”
“I really am sorry.”
She took his hand in hers, and a jolt passed through his body. The sexual pull was there and something else, too, the warmest deepest feeling of caring he’d ever encountered rushed up his spine.
Did she realize what she’d done? Lake didn’t blink to acknowledge the moment. Could she not feel it? Was she so unaware of her Healer abilities? She had reached out, wolf to wolf, and offered comfort deeper than physical healing. Soul-to-soul, her energy had brushed him.
He took a sip of his coffee. They were having a calm moment. The time to discuss her abilities would come later.
Beaux could be patient when a situation warranted the need. The Moon knew Lake had been skittish before she’d been taken. Drugging him and running off had been a real wakeup call for him about what his mate did when cornered.
“The last time I tried to help, I failed. Kyra died. She was a member of our pack. A friend of mine. We got attacked by True Believers. I was drunk.” A tear slipped from Lake’s eye, and she wiped it away. “My powers wouldn’t work. The whole night, including the intoxication, had been my idea to begin with. That was the first time I failed.”
“Traditionally, Healers avoid any kind of alcohol for such a reason.”
Another tear slipped from her eye, and this time she let it travel down her cheek without wiping it away.
She sniffed. “I didn’t know.”
Lake looked at him, holding his eye contact for a full thirty seconds before looking down. Traditionally, Healers weren’t submissive, falling outside of the pack dominance order. Lake was wounded. Things would fall into place gradually, and he wasn’t going to worry about games of rank.
His mate spoke again, this time worrying her bottom lip before she did.
“I haven’t had a drink since. I never will again.”
“Some knowledge gets lost if it’s not shared. I learned about Healers and what they should and should not do after I discovered you. I sought help from some of the wisest Healers in the werewolf world. An old woman named Sonya told me about the drinking issue. Your power comes from your blood. If you dilute it, by poisoning yourself, it won’t work.”
Werewolves were losing more and more by not listening to their histories. Soon, there might not be anyone left to teach the old ways. Then what would they do? He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
She smiled, but, once again, it didn’t reach her blue eyes.
“Thanks for not telling me it wasn’t my fault.”
“What would be the point? It sounds like in a lot of ways it was and reminding you about the things beyond your control doesn’t take away the responsibility of what was. You have to live with it, feel the burn, and not forget. You know I think things are preordained. Still, we have choices and we need to live with our responsibilities if we are to change.”
Like he did with the burden of what happened with Sara.
“That’s how you atone. No one can forgive you. The best you can hope for is a better, stronger future.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I’m not sure about any future anymore, Beaux. I might not have much of one.”
“Yes you do.” Before she could argue, he pushed her a little more. “You said there were two times you failed.”
“The children.”
She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. Lake’s bone-tiredness assaulted him, and he almost doubled over from the pain. Clenching his jaw, he kept himself upright.
“The ones the True Believers have. We’ll find them. And the Moon only knows what they’ve been given which is killing them.”
“Right.” She didn’t look up. “Before, I could hardly control myself from helping anyone and everyone I came in contact with. Lilliana and Betsy were both latent and perfectly happy to be so. I fixed them without being able to control myself. They’re full on werewolves now.”
She shook her head. “Some Healer I turned out to be.”
“Oh, I think you’re an extraordinary Healer.”
Possibly the Healer of our generation…. Even if he wouldn’t have wished that on her.
She waved her hand in the air. “You’re just being kind.”
“No. Aren’t you also a nurse? In addition to all the werewolf healing, didn’t you go to school to figure out how to help humans? And did I not see you save your sister-in-law? Have you forgotten how you removed a bullet from her gut which should have killed her?”
Lake nodded. “I did. Honestly, I think her not dying wasn’t anything to do with me. She was going to survive, determined to, so she did.”
Why did she sound sad? She should be proud. The Moon had used her for purposes they had yet to understand. He had opened his mouth to pose a question when the scent of his pack mate Josiah reached his nose. He rose, and, not a second later, a banging sounded on the door.
Beaux bolted to the door. Josiah must have been running to have gotten to the door so fast after Beaux scented him, which meant something was amiss. He swung open the door.
“What’s wrong?”
Josiah looked pale, his eyes were huge and his pupils dilated, his usually gruff expression replaced by one of terror.
“It’s Cara.” Josiah’s breath came out harsh
“The pregnancy.”
A rock settled in Beaux’s stomach. Women and pregnancy. Was there anything more terrifying? Even he couldn’t see the point of giving a woman a baby and trying to kill her when she brought it into the world. What had the Moon been thinking?
The squeaking of a chair told Beaux that Lake had risen.
“Something wrong?”
“She’s been in labor. Twenty-four hours. Something isn’t going right.”
He hadn’t known Cara’s time had come, but not sharing labor news fell into standard practice for werewolves. Generally, giving birth happened at home, alone, and the birth announcement came after.
“My Alpha, is there something you can do? Come and give her some energy?”
Beaux nodded. Although the idea made him slightly ill—he’d never been in a birthing room, he’d be happy to help Cara in any way he could.
“He’s not what you need.” Lake pushed by him. “I’ll come. Beaux doesn’t belong in a labor room. Sorry, he’s a great Alpha, except clearly she needs more than Alpha energy. I don’t know if I can heal in the werewolf sense, but I am a Nurse Practitioner. In the human world, that means I’ve had a lot of training.”
Lake put on her shoes, gripping the wall as she did. “How far along is she?”
“Forty weeks.”
“Okay, go
od.” She smiled, touching Josiah’s arm. “I’m Lake by the way. Let me see what I can do.”
“This is my mate.”
Beaux hadn’t formally introduced her to his pack yet. But, he should have known lack of traditional introduction wouldn’t hold her back.
Josiah’s eyes lit up. “You’re a Healer. We’d heard you were.”
“Not much of one, at least lately. How far are we from a hospital?”
“Hours.”
Lake gritted her teeth. Beaux could see a muscle in her jaw tic. “Of course we are.”
She shoved on her coat and followed Josiah out the door. Beaux followed quickly in her wake. He hadn’t anticipated the need for arriving so fast. Lake still didn’t believe she could heal, and he hadn’t wanted to tell her his suspicions yet.
“Lake.”
She stopped and regarded him. “We need to hurry.”
“I know. This is important.”
She raised an eyebrow, and he wished he could smooth the worry lines from her face. Someday he’d have the right to do so. Right then, he didn’t get to touch her like she belonged to him.
“You can still heal. I felt it when you touched me. Believe in yourself.” He cleared his dry throat. “You’ve got this.”
She opened and closed her mouth. What would she have said? Another argument? An accusation of him making it up? Or was she finally starting to believe he might know what he talked about? Either way, they didn’t have time to find out.
Lake nodded at him, which he took as a good sign, and charged after Josiah. Beaux could smell the determination and the terror coming off his pack mate in waves. Adrenaline surged inside Beaux, a direct response as Alpha to his pack. If they needed him, he would respond. Lake had no fear in her aroma at all. Focus smelled sweet, and he was able to take a deep breath of it.
He’d meant what he said. His mate could do this; he knew she could. Whatever the True Believers had done, whatever horrible mistakes she had made which had played havoc with her confidence, the Moon had not abandoned such a gifted Healer.
If Josiah’s wife could be saved, Lake would get the job done.
It took five minutes of walking as fast as they could without running to reach Josiah’s home. Silently, they’d all seemed to agree not to sprint. Running meant panic. They wouldn’t give in to fear. As they approached the house, he scented panic and not from Josiah but from inside the house itself. Cara was bathed in terror.
The howls of pain greeted his ear next, and, as Lake went to open the door, he pushed in front of her. Beaux couldn’t deliver Cara’s baby, but he could help nonetheless.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached her room fast.
“Knock.” Lake called after him. “She’s vulnerable. And you’re Alpha, I get it. Still. No one wants to be busted in on during such a horrible experience.”
“Right.”
He wouldn’t have thought about her modesty. As Alpha, he wanted to help, needed to assist more than anything else.
He tapped on the door, and, when she yelled out a moan, he took it as permission—and entered. The smell Lake of sweat assaulted his nose, and he resisted the urge to cringe. Werewolves rarely perspired, although he had no idea if doing so was normal for birth.
“My Alpha?” Her voice squeaked, and she groaned.
Beaux crossed to her and placed his hand on her forehead. “Cara. I can feel your pain. I’ve come to help you.”
“Thank you.”
She exhaled, her eyes looked glazed and red, which couldn’t be a good thing.
He pushed his own worry from his mind and concentrated on sending her energy. While he couldn’t heal, as Alpha, he could ease and energize. The Moon blessed him with the ability to infuse his pack with strength. He used his gift now.
His hands tingled when he touched her, and she gasped, some of her paleness subsiding.
“Thank you.”
Lake entered the room and shut the door. She nodded to him. “Now get out.”
“I’m helping.”
His mate nodded. “Yes, you did. Thank you. Please leave. This isn’t the place for you. I’ve asked Josiah to stay downstairs, too. Assuming you are comfortable with me, Cara? I’m Lake by the way.”
Cara’s face lit up. “The Healer.”
“Well…kind of.” Lake smiled, which defused some of the tension her quasi-denial could have brought about. “Trust me, Beaux, a woman doesn’t want her Alpha prowling around when she’s spread-eagled adding new members to his pack.”
Beaux’s stomach clenched. Yes, he would go. If his presence wasn’t directly required, wouldn’t add anything to the moment, then he truly didn’t wish to witness the event. Josiah was the father. If he could manage to stay downstairs, then Beaux would go with him.
He crossed quickly to the door. “All will be well.”
Beaux pulled the door closed behind him but not before he heard Lake utter the word men in his wake. Cara laughed, which had to be a good sign. He didn’t particularly care for being the butt of any jokes. In this case, however, if it helped Cara relax and not die, he’d endure the discomfort.
Josiah was pacing the living room when Beaux joined him.
“My Alpha.” The other man cleared his throat. “Why would this have happened? Werewolves give birth without issue all the time. Did the Moon forsake us?”
“No.” He placed his arm on Josiah’s. “The Moon is always with us, especially when life gives us hurdles. You’re right. Most werewolves give birth without problems only sometimes they don’t. This is the reason why we have Healers. And what a gift it is Lake is here with us right as this happened to Cara.”
“You’re right.” Josiah sighed loudly.
“I’m not suggesting it’s in any way easy to manage this kind of worry. It’s not. If it helps at all, I witnessed Lake save someone who should have died. She brought her back from death. You remember when Cyrus’ pack was here and his mate was shot by her adopted human mother? There are never any guarantees. If anyone is capable of seeing Cara through this, it’s Lake.”
“Thank you, my Alpha.” Josiah sat down and almost immediately slumped over in the chair. “I do remember. I wasn’t directly involved but I have heard the story many times since. Is it official, then? Have you mated?”
Beaux rubbed his forehead. “Not yet.”
“Well, the wait is to be expected. After everything she’s been through. She’s going to need some time.”
“Yes, exactly.”
He wasn’t going to explain how badly things were going with the woman who had been born for him. Truth was, Beaux hardly understood it himself. She didn’t believe any of the things he held as truth. Her issues stemmed from her captivity, yes, but the roots of her resistance seemed to go back much earlier than that. She loved her brother, and at the same time she didn’t want him around for the Alpha discussion which had to take place.
And she’d seen someone who wasn’t there.
She mystified him. His cock felt perpetually hard. He might never get a good night’s sleep ever again thinking about her. She had the saddest blue eyes he’d ever seen, and he longed to hold her in his arms, to help shelter some of her burden.
Of course, she’d probably throw something at him if he tried to or drug him again and then run away.
Upstairs, Cara cried out in pain. Beaux winced, and Josiah jumped to his feet.
“I should be up there.”
Beaux stared at the top of the stairs. “I’m sure if you want to be, they won’t deny you entrance.”
“You don’t think I should go.”
Josiah hadn’t phrased his remark as a question and Beaux didn’t treat it as one.
“I think Lake needs her space to do what she does.”
“Right.”
Josiah crossed the room. Beaux had never seen the man so rattled, and they had been to war together. Not too recently, they had taken down a roving band of lone wolves looking to stir up trouble in the area. Josiah had been cool and
collected. Now? He wouldn’t stop fidgeting.
He opened a cabinet, and the strong scent of liquor wafted through the air.
“I know you don’t drink, my Alpha. I get why you don’t approve….”
Beaux held up his hands. “Go right ahead. There’s no law against it.”
For his part, Beaux thought alcohol dimmed their wolf senses. Healers like Lake should absolutely not consume any. However, there was no particular tradition that said werewolves had to stay sober.
In fact, the months following Sara’s death remained a blur not only because of grief but also because of Jack Daniels. Then the Moon had called to him, and he’d put away what kept him from a true werewolf life.
Another loud cry came from Cara’s room, and Josiah took a shot of what smelled distinctly like vodka down in one swallow. Beaux stared up the stairs, hoping Lake had things under control. Yeah, he couldn’t blame Josiah at all for wanting to take the edge off. Not in the least.
He waited, expecting another scream to fill the air but none came.
“My Alpha?” Josiah’s tense voice was the only audible noise in the room.
Please, Moon, hear me.
Beaux closed his eyes. If they lost Cara, it would destroy Josiah, devastate the pack, overwhelm Lake, and destroy the faith a lot of the wolves held onto tightly. They couldn’t lose their young couples. Everyone, including Beaux, had come to see them as the future of the werewolves. If the newly mated could make returning to the old ways work for them, anything was possible.
His heart ached. Cara’s smiles, thoughtfulness, and keen sixth sense made her invaluable both as a pack mate and a friend.
The door swung open with a bang, and the sound made Beaux’s eyes fly open. Lake emerged into the darken hallway, a small bundle wrapped in a white blanket in her hands.
She took the stairs fast with a determined stride.
“Lake?” Josiah choked. “Is everything okay?”
“Cara will be fine.” Lake motioned toward the baby. “This is your daughter. She’s small, and the birth was horribly stressful. I’m holding onto her, infusing her with light and healing. But, Beaux, please, could you help me?”
“Gladly.”
He placed his hand on the baby, and his body jolted at the intensity of the pure, new life beneath his fingertips. A few seconds passed as they all stood there silently. At some point, Lake’s gift matched his own, and he couldn’t tell where his power started and hers ended. Power flew between them, sending sparks he couldn’t see but could certainly feel all over his skin.
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