by Amy Pennza
The witch gave him a considering look. “It’s no trick, wolf.”
Bard was silent, but some of the tension left the arm he’d wrapped around her waist.
Sabine went on. “True love is completely selfless. It’s also incredibly rare. Most people can’t love that deeply, as it requires loving another more than oneself.”
Bard’s heart pounded hard against Haley’s back.
“She loves you selflessly, you see, so she was able to use her Gift to reverse the damage done by the charm.”
Haley stiffened. “I don’t have a Gift.”
“Oh?” Sabine turned the considering look on her. “Is that what they told you?”
“I . . .” Haley swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Bard tightened his embrace, his palm warm on her upper arm. “No one told me. I just never manifested one.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Yours is a subtle sort.”
Haley didn’t dare to breathe. She found herself leaning forward, desperate for Sabine to continue.
“It’s the ability to enhance others’ magic,” Sabine said. “Among my people, such witches are called Augmentors.” She made a dismissive motion. “They are not highly prized, as they’re almost entirely defenseless on their own. However, they make good servants.” Her tone grew wistful. “In the old days, we made them thralls.”
Bard’s chest rumbled against Haley’s back as he growled. “We don’t enslave our people. Or make them servants. Only the witches treat their own like second-class citizens.”
Sabine raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Remind me again how your kind regards latent wolves.” She snapped her fingers. “Ah, never mind, I suddenly recall spending twenty years disguised as one.”
“So you could feed,” Bard snarled. “Your kind are no better than vampires, sucking the misery out of people.”
“You bargained with me willingly, wolf.”
“You glossed over the consequences, witch.”
“Guys?” Haley turned in Bard’s embrace, angling her body sideways so she could see both of them. “I know you two have a history, but could we talk about my newly discovered Gift? Also, half the windows are missing and it’s freezing in here.”
Bard gave her his full attention, his expression shifting from enraged to loving in a blink. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re right.”
“A good way to start a marriage,” Sabine said, her voice wry.
But Haley only half heard her. That word . . . marriage. She stared up at Bard, who stared back with raw hope in his eyes.
Both eyes. If her love restored that part of him, it must have restored—
“Everything,” he said softly.
Joy burst like a firework in her chest. Still, questions nagged at her. She looked at Sabine. “How could I be an Augmentor? There is no such Gift among werewolves.”
Sabine shrugged. “Perhaps not. Perhaps I’m wrong. However, I question whether your people would notice such a talent. After all, it doesn’t involve running very fast.” She said the last with a raised eyebrow and a shrewd smile.
She had a point. Wolves were concerned with speed and strength. With superior hearing and supernatural eyesight. They shunned Gifts like Telepathy and only tolerated Healing because it made bodies better for fighting.
Sabine’s quiet voice intruded into her thoughts. “Most people only see what they want to see, even when the truth is right in front of them. Think, child. Has no one ever seemed faster or stronger around you?”
Haley opened her mouth, a denial at the ready. Then a memory surfaced.
Remy shook his head, his expression bemused. “Huh. My range must be getting better. Normally, I can’t communicate with Dom when he’s this far away.”
Her heart sped up. Another memory came.
Max grabbed the edge of his desk, steadying himself. “Moved too fast that time.”
More memories.
Bard dropped her hand in the study. “My apologies. I must have given that one a little too much power.”
Ben opened the cafe door, setting the bells jangling wildly. “Sorry . . . I’m still getting used to my Gift.”
Bard in the hospital. “You’re lucky Rupert is as strong as he is. Even so, I’ve never seen anyone move snow like that.”
Haley’s mind spun. Was it possible? Heart racing, she met Sabine’s gaze.
The witch nodded. “You see now.” She made a face like she tasted something bitter. “Well, there’s no reason for me to linger.” She turned and walked across the glass toward the open doors.
Haley slipped from Bard’s arms. “Wait!”
Sabine turned, an eyebrow raised.
“Um . . .” Haley gulped a breath, trying to marshal her thoughts. There was so much she needed to know, and she got the feeling there would be no finding Sabine again once she left. “You said I reversed the damage from the charm. But my Gift only enhances other people’s Gifts, which means I should only be able to restore Bard’s ability to Heal himself.”
“Yes. What of it?”
“In the vision, you said Bard would rule unchallenged and alone. Does that part of the charm still stand?” She looked in his direction. He stared at the witch, his expression hard.
Sabine didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Her dark eyes gleamed, amber rolling over the brown. “There is more than one kind of love.” She turned her head toward Ben, who watched her with the same mix of anger and wariness as Bard. “You have a good heart, Stalwart.”
“And you have an evil one,” Ben said.
“A human construct, wolf. There is no evil. Just shades of good and bad.” She glanced at Bard before giving Ben her full attention again. “Loyalty is a form of good, as is courage. You showed enough of both when you stopped your mother from killing him. In your heart, you recognize him as your Alpha. I suspect it was enough to reverse that part of the charm.”
Ben lifted his chin. “It was. Bard Bennett is my Alpha and always will be, regardless of any witch’s curse.”
“And mine,” Glenna said, her voice weaker than normal. She was pale, with a deep bruise forming on one cheek, but she straightened her shoulders. “I recognize Bard Bennett as the true Alpha of the Washington Territory.”
Sabine’s voice turned silky. “You would serve one who claimed his place through magic?”
“That may be so,” Glenna said. “But he spent twenty years fighting that magic, and he did everything he could to stop the curse from infecting the pack. He sent people away to save them.” She looked at Bard and held his gaze for a moment. Then she lowered her eyes and said, “I didn’t understand it before but I do now. Thank you . . . Alpha.”
Bard stared, his blue eyes full of some indefinable emotion.
“It seems you have your creed, wolf,” Sabine murmured. She looked at Haley. “And your beauty,” she added, then started for the doors again.
“And the rest?” Bard called after her.
Sabine faced him. “You want to know if your line will continue.”
“You owe me that much.”
“I think not, wolf.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “However, I can be generous when the situation calls for it.” She turned to Haley. “My father had the gift of foresight—a gift he passed on to me. So I offer you a boon.”
Haley tensed. “I’m not sure I—”
“You will conceive under a full moon,” she said, power rippling through her voice. Then she lifted a shoulder. “Too bad you’re not a witch. A child born of virgin’s blood under a full moon would be especially powerful.”
Silence reigned. Haley felt her mouth drop open as Sabine’s pronouncement hung in the air.
A child.
Bard’s child.
Without another word, Sabine swept from the conservatory, striding through the shattered, gaping doors and into the snow.
For a moment, everyone was silent as they stared at the empty doorway. Then Ben cleared his throat. “That was . . . weird.”
“Do you think she’
ll be all right on foot?” Glenna asked. “The sun is up, but the wind chill has the air temperature in the teens.”
Ben snorted. “Her magic shattered every window in the place, Mom. I think she’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but—”
“She’s not the nice lady who helped you make pancakes. She’s a witch, and she tried to kill everyone.”
“I noticed, Ben. Thank you.”
“You know you’re not allowed to dislike any of my friends now, right? Not after you befriended the most evil person in town.”
Glenna put her hands on her hips. “When did you get so mouthy?”
Haley couldn’t control her grin. She looked at Bard, happiness bubbling inside her. But when she saw his face, her smile faded.
His expression was solemn, his blue eyes tense.
Ben and Glenna ceased their banter.
“Bard?” Haley touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I’m not . . .” He swallowed and tried again. “I’m not completely whole.”
Haley grabbed his hand. He squeezed it but kept his gaze on Glenna and Ben.
“The magic in Haley’s kiss healed my wounds, but it didn’t restore my leg. It seems not even witch magic can replace a limb.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’m grateful for my life, even if I can’t lead the pack.”
There was a long pause, then Ben said, “Why not?”
Bard blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Why can’t you lead? Who says an Alpha needs two legs?”
“No one,” Haley said. Still gripping Bard’s hand, she shot Ben a smile then gazed up at Bard, hoping the love in her heart was clear in her eyes. “There’s no rule that says an Alpha needs two legs. It’s up to the pack to choose their leader.”
“And the Ruperts choose you,” Ben said. “I’m confident everyone else in Elder Lake will, too.” He looked at Glenna, who nodded.
Bard was quiet for a second, astonishment plain on his features.
Haley tugged at his hand, making him look at her. “What’s the matter, Alpha? Speechless?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice breathless. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, then held them against his lips. “I can’t find any words to describe what I’m feeling.” He lifted his free hand to her hair, cupping the side of her head with a reverent touch. “You’ve given me everything. I can never thank you enough.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” She stepped into him, then traced her fingertips down his unblemished face, savoring the feel of smooth skin and rugged features. “Just love me.”
He took her face in both hands and guided her lips to his. “Now, that I can do,” he whispered, and kissed her.
She met him halfway, kissing him with all the passion she possessed. Sandalwood and juniper swirled around her, sweeping her senses. He wrapped his arms around her, and for a moment she could have sworn they lifted off the ground, a little bit of leftover magic spinning them off their feet.
When they touched down again, he broke off the kiss and tucked her against him. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, content to hear his heart beating sure and strong.
“Haley?” he murmured against her hair.
She opened her eyes.
“What did Sabine mean by virgin?”
Epilogue
Haley trotted to the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley and looked over her shoulder. Her tail drooped, and her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth. She lowered her head as she fought to catch her breath.
Should have packed water.
No matter how many times she made the trek from the mansion to the valley, the ascent always kicked her butt. Ben had taken to calling her “lowlander” in a Scottish brogue, claiming she was “nae but a weak beastie.” When she threatened to kick his ass, he clucked his tongue and said, “Och, an’ a cruel lassie, too.”
The sound of crunching snow brought her head up. Ben approached, his brown fur a dark contrast to the white snow silvered by moonlight. His blue eyes smiled at her as he pulled his burden up the trail. He carried a rope in his mouth, his needle-sharp fangs sunk deep in the nylon.
She wagged her tail in a return greeting, but it was the wolf on the sled behind him that captured her attention. Large and black, he rode with his eyes closed and his head tipped back like he relished the feel of the wind ruffling his fur.
As if he felt her gaze on him, he opened his eyes—two shocking points of glowing blue in a coat as black as midnight.
Her breath caught, and her heart pounded faster. Would she ever get used to seeing him? They had been mated for a month and she still got butterflies when he walked in a room.
Or rode toward her on a sled.
Ben stopped at her side and dropped the rope. Then he gave a small yip and tossed his head toward a clump of trees that bordered the trail.
Haley nodded, letting him know she understood he was going to make the Turn in the trees to give her and Bard privacy. As he headed off, she rubbed her flank along Bard’s shoulder. He turned his head quickly and nipped at her rump, nearly catching her.
She danced away, giving him a doggy grin.
He responded with a growl and a hard stare, the message in his eyes clear. Enough play time. Hurry up and shift.
She snapped her jaws at him. Spoilsport.
He continued to stare, not giving an inch.
Fine. She moved a few steps away and turned her back to him. Then she dropped to the ground and began to shift. She didn’t have the heart to keep teasing him. He’d been planning something for days, even recruiting Ben to help with the surprise. She wasn’t going to ruin it for him. But curiosity ate at her. When she pestered him for details, he gave her a cryptic smile and said, “Patience has its rewards.”
Which, of course, made heat rush to certain places.
She finished her shift and got to her feet, taking a minute to catch her breath. When she turned around, Bard was already dressed and rummaging through the pack attached to the back of the sled. He balanced on his good knee, his dark head bent over his task. His shoulders threatened to burst from his ski jacket, and his black hair gleamed almost blue in the moonlight.
A wistful sigh rose in her chest. She was almost going to miss the silver . . . and maybe even the eye patch a little.
On the other hand, it was heaven running her fingers through his hair without worrying about catching the strap.
And it was sexy as hell to look into both of his eyes when he made love to her.
Wind gusted, making goosebumps rise on her skin.
He swung around. As soon as he saw her, heat entered his gaze. “I’d tell you to get dressed, but I have to say I enjoy the view.”
“Oh?” Her nipples tightened. She put a hand on her hip and gestured around. “You mean the mountains or . . .”
His voice was like smoke curling around her. “You know exactly what I mean.”
Her breath hitched.
There was a rustle in the trees, then Ben’s voice carried over the snow. “Almost done!”
Haley booked it to the sled and dug her clothes from the pack while Bard chuckled. She gave him a dark look as she yanked her shirt over her head. “You started it,” she muttered.
He fitted his prosthetic into place, then winked at her. “I’ll finish it, too, sweetheart. You have my word on that.”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Well, I guess I can’t doubt the word of an Alpha.”
“Not this one. Not when it comes to you.”
Ben strode toward them, his cheeks red from the cold. He stopped next to Haley and stomped snow from his boots. “No matter how many times I do it, I will never get used to shifting in the cold. There are parts on a male that just shouldn’t be exposed to subzero temperatures.”
Bard checked his leg a final time, then looked at Ben. “Give me a hand up?”
“You got it, boss.” Ben offered his hand.
Bard took it and l
et Ben pull him to his feet. It was a scene Haley had witnessed dozens of times over the past month and it never failed to make tears prick her eyes. The day after she broke Sabine’s charm, Ben had appeared on Bard’s doorstep and volunteered his services as Beta. In the weeks that followed, the two males forged a working relationship and the first tentative bonds of what promised to be a deep friendship. Bard relied on Ben’s strength as a Stalwart. Ben got to focus on his family’s land and business without the distractions that came with being the Alpha. They complemented each other and, together, they were rebuilding the pack.
And she was so damn grateful to be part of it.
Her heart swelled as she watched them now, some unspoken exchange passing between them.
Ben gave Bard a nod, then picked up the rope attached to the sled. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll head back.”
“All set,” Bard said. “Thanks for your help.”
Haley looked between them. “You’re leaving?” she asked Ben. “I thought we were hiking down to the valley.” The three of them had been going for runs, with Ben pulling Bard in the sled. It had taken some peer pressure to get him to agree, but after the first time he was hooked.
Ben slid Bard a look and smiled. “I think you’ll have a better time alone. Happy belated birthday, by the way.” Before she could say anything, he waved and jogged off, pulling the sled behind him.
Haley called after him. “Wait! How will we get home?”
He gave another wave without turning around or slowing.
She swung back to Bard, alarm spiking her veins. “He can’t just leave!”
“It’s fine. I told him to.”
“What? Bard, I can’t pull you all the way home.”
“You won’t have to, sweetheart.” He took her hand and tugged her away from the tracks left by the sled. “Come on. I have something to show you.”
Some of her panic faded, and she let him lead her farther up the trail. The cliff ran alongside it, the blunt edge dropping to the valley about a hundred feet below. Just when she was ready to ask where they were going, he stopped and pointed. “There.”
She followed the direction he indicated, and her breath caught. Positioned steps from the edge of the cliff was an old-fashioned tent, its flaps tied back with tasseled ropes. Glowing lanterns hung from two posts driven into the ground, and someone had cleared a path to the entrance. Nestled in the snow, it looked like a warm and cozy oasis from the cold.