Lupine [Moon Child Series Book 2]

by Candy Nicks

  "Don't be nervous. Father shouts a lot, but he doesn't bite."

  "No, but I do."

  "Shh...” She knocked him gently with her elbow.

  "I like your brother. Sol, will you be my eyes? Tell me when we've arrived."

  Sol stopped suddenly, shock and surprise in his voice. “You're blind?"

  "I don't see well in bright sunlight."

  "Oh. I suppose that's why you wear sunshades."

  Sol's warm palm slid over his, the slender fingers gently curling and leading him forward. An old soul indeed, he thought, a little disarmed by the tender gesture. Existing in a cage had posed no problem for a blind man who had nowhere to go. Living in the world meant trusting that most people had his best interests at heart and wouldn't lead him astray.

  "This is our home,” Sol said proudly. “And this is my baby brother Tallin and his best friend Larissa."

  Finn's senses reached out to the two children bounding toward him. Two halves of the same whole, just as Naima had told him.

  Tallin skidded to a halt. “You're shorter than Kandar."

  "Everyone's shorter than Kandar,” Naima said dryly, causing giggles all round.

  "Kandar's a giant,” Tallin announced. “Mother said he couldn't stay or he'd eat all the food. Father said he had to because of proto ... proto..."

  "Protocol? Oh no, he's not in there, is he?"

  "Yes. Can we eat now?"

  Finn heard the dismay in Naima's voice while his wolf searched greedily for the energy to manifest, gearing up for confrontation.

  "Sol, look after Finn. I need to talk to Father."

  His wolf grew a little more, drawing power from her anger. “Naima,” he warned, “It doesn't matter."

  "Yes it does. Tallin, take Larissa and go and see if the dogs need feeding. Sol, I'd like you to announce us, please."

  Once she'd dismissed the children, Naima turned to him. “Can't you feel how angry it makes me? I'm not standing by while that oaf insults you. This is a family occasion. He has no right to be here."

  "Have they gone?"

  "The children? Yes."

  "Listen to me, Naima. I can see you, clearly. It's not a good sign. Not now. If you get angry, so do I. There will be a confrontation of the worst kind if I lose control. I don't have the strength to hold it back. Do you understand?"

  "I ... I can't help it, he makes me so mad."

  She didn't understand. Confusion and agitation added to the anger making a potent mixture of emotions from which his wolf fed voraciously. In desperation, Finn pushed her away and stumbled towards a small stand of trees. If it happened, he needed cover and distance between him and the man who threatened his mate.

  "Finn?” She found him by a tree one arm braced against the trunk and had the good sense not to get too close. “I'm calm,” she said, although her voice trembled. “He wouldn't put a foot out of line in our house. He's far too noble to break any codes."

  "I'm not. When you became angry back there, my wolf wanted to go in and tear him to pieces. It's feeding off the emotion."

  "I can't control my feelings."

  Her image, sharp and clear, and contrite, blurred at the edges as his wolf receded. “Tell me you're mine,” he said. “Tell me Kandar has no chance with you."

  "I'm yours.” The incredulity in her voice made him laugh at his overreaction.

  "My wolf wants to fight for you,” he said. “Defend its claim."

  "And the man?” She stepped closer.

  He pulled off the shades and let her see the heating desire in his eyes. “The man,” he said deliberately, “wants to fuck you senseless. Here and now. So when we go inside everyone will know what we were doing."

  "He does?” Naima's voice was the barest thread of sound and a different kind of energy hummed between them. Smooth and steady, life-affirming. He breathed it in and became a man again, the wolf subdued, for now. From the depths of the house, he heard scattered voices, light footsteps on the path. Someone called for Naima. She called back. The wolf had robbed him of preciously stored-up energy, but he'd learned to live with its voraciousness. Without it, he was just a blind man fumbling in the dark.

  "I've announced you,” Sol said, breathless from running. “Everyone's waiting. What are you doing here?"

  Naima replied first, quickly excusing his absence with a dizzy spell. Finn would have preferred to answer for himself, but without visual clues the subtle cut and thrust of conversation was difficult.

  "I'm fine now,” he said. “Let's go and get this over with."

  * * * *

  Not possessiveness. Neither a deliberate slap to Kandar's face. Or so Naima told herself. Without her help, Finn would bump into the furniture and she imagined that would be more embarrassing for him than being led around. Still, she couldn't deny the feeling of satisfaction as she swept Finn past a rigid Kandar to make the formal introductions with her father. She whispered Finn to stop walking.

  "Father, will you meet Finn?"

  "I will. Honoured guest of Faylar, be welcome. Here, Finn, take my hand."

  Naima mouthed a quick thank-you for her father's careful reply. Friendly enough to make Finn feel at home but formal enough to please Kandar.

  Carine's smile remained a little fixed and Naima saw full well the wistful longing beneath the cheery hello. She found herself watching Carine's hand intently as she took Finn's lean fingers in hers and lingered, just a little more than necessary, before urging them all to be seated at the large kitchen table. The eyeshades made it hard to read Finn's reaction. This was the first tentative step of a new life, and he'd voiced his determination to chart his own course rather than be victim to the whims of others. Naima moved slightly to shield him with her body.

  "It smells good,” Ancel said sniffing the air. “Carine, where are you going?"

  Carine evaded his hand when he reached for her. “To fetch the food. We have an honoured guest. I want to serve him myself."

  "I'm sure Finn won't mind who serves him. Goodness, woman. Can you not keep still for one moment?"

  "Ancel, allow me.” Kandar intervened smoothly and proceeded to make a big show of helping Carine to carry platters from the kitchen to the table. Eventually, he pulled out a chair for her and bowed.

  "I believe formalities have been observed,” he said. “Sol and I will bring in the remaining dishes."

  "Why is he here?” Naima whispered, when Kandar was out of hearing range.

  "He called to discuss the engineering works on the north wall and you know your father. Kandar complimented the smell of the food and protocol dictated a dinner invitation, which, of course, he accepted. He's here to bear witness to your betrothal, apparently."

  "It's awkward, to say the least. I hoped father would let this be an informal occasion."

  "I know, I'm sorry, shh, here he comes."

  Finn sat to her left, looking a little bemused by the animated din that accompanied a Faylar meal. “We're a noisy lot,” Naima explained. “Talking while eating is almost required. Would you like me to serve you some food?"

  "Thank you."

  She spooned meat and vegetables onto his plate, hunks of bread for his side-plate. Watched him pick at it and barely eat anything. She'd given him far too much.

  "You don't have to eat it all,” she said by way of apology.

  "I'm all right."

  The reply was a little tense, his body language stiff and awkward. Poor thing, she thought and sought his hand under the table. How deluded they'd been to imagine he could throw himself into society and fit in effortlessly. She watched him listening keenly to the threads of conversation, only speaking when questioned.

  "I'll make our excuses,” she whispered towards the end of the meal. “They won't be offended if you want to leave."

  "Yes, do,” Finn whispered back. “He doesn't like me."

  At first, she thought he meant her father and opened her mouth to dispute his assertion. Then she noticed Kandar leaning on his elbows, a mug of wine in h
is fist, staring directly at Finn with the confidence of someone who knows he cannot be seen. She frowned at him. He winked in return and raised his mug.

  "A toast,” he said and waited for quiet. “To Carine's health."

  "Carine's health.” They all dutifully repeated the toast and raised their mugs. After a token sip of their drinks, they waited for Carine's reply.

  "Thank you,” she said. “I'm feeling much better now. If everyone's finished I propose we take our drinks into the garden to make the most of the sunshine."

  "I see someone's still eating."

  Naima caught her father's frown at Kandar's comment. “Finn's had enough,” she said. “Haven't you, Finn?"

  "What? Yes, take it away.” The words came out a little too loud, as if he'd forgotten he was in company.

  Kandar grinned and pushed back his chair. “So, we've all finished now? Sol says you're musical, Finn. Perhaps you could entertain us with a song?"

  "He doesn't sing. Come, let's all go outside.” Beside her, Carine swayed to her feet. Naima caught her and shot her an enquiring look.

  "My wound's a little sore—a sure sign of healing.” Ancel moved towards her, his expression concerned. Carine fended him off. “Take our guests outside and I'll follow with the children. Don't fuss, sweetheart, I'm perfectly fine."

  "Which means you patently aren't.” Ancel blew out an exasperated breath and indicated the garden doors. “Outside everyone, I need to talk with my wife. You too, Sol,” he said to the child who missed nothing.

  Sol left, reluctantly, turning back once to see his parents in heated discussion. Naima hooked an arm around her brother and ushered him through the doors. “Why don't you fetch your wooden horse collection? I think Finn would like to see them."

  "You said he can't see."

  "He'll see them with his hands. Go on."

  Sol threw her a look of reproach for the obvious dismissal. Finn leaned heavily on her arm.

  "We can leave now,” she whispered.” You're looking tired. Let's get you to a seat, and I'll go and fetch your jacket."

  "Stop fussing.” Finn snapped the words at her. “I know you mean well, but let me at least speak for myself."

  The rebuke brought tears to her eyes, which she quickly blinked back, and a curious glance from Kandar. She had been talking for Finn. Treating him like a helpless person and overwhelming him with her concern.

  "Is your father out here?"

  "No, he's inside with Carine."

  "Good.” Finn hooked an arm around her neck and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Is Kandar watching?” he murmured.

  "Yes.” If looks could kill, they'd be lying dead on the paving stones.

  "Naima, forgive my rudeness just now. I'm finding this hard, and I don't mean to take it out on you. Just remember what I said to you in the trees."

  Her cheeks flamed at the memory of the earthy words. Together, they settled onto one of the wooden garden benches, hand in hand like any young couple in love. While she attempted to keep a cool exterior, inside she glowed at the way Finn had so openly claimed her.

  Kandar sat opposite them, long legs crossed, fingers tapping nonchalantly on the side of his wine-mug. Humming softly to himself, he appeared totally unconcerned by the kiss.

  Naima relaxed a little more and allowed herself cosy thoughts of hearth and home. Children, she'd gladly give up to be with Finn.

  Kandar stopped singing when Ancel appeared carrying a mortified-looking Carine and placed her on the swing-chair he'd built for her. He propped himself by the post, arms folded, as if he needed to guard her. The air grew thick with tension. The conversation, uncharacteristically absent. Over the distant mountains, storm clouds streaked the sky.

  "So, do you sing, or don't you?” Kandar broke the silence with a question aimed at Finn. “Sol says you do, Naima says you don't. What do you have to say on the matter?"

  "I did, but not any more. Does that answer your question?"

  "It's an answer, of sorts.” Kandar took a noisy swig of his wine. “It's not my place to ask how you intend to support Naima.” He turned to Ancel. “May I do you the honour of standing witness to your enquiries of this man's background?"

  Naima's heart slithered into her boots. When it came to protocol, Kandar had written the book and then memorised it word for word.

  "I don't need to be reminded of my duty towards my daughter,” Ancel said, with more than a hint of irony. “I think it would be kinder to spare them the inquisition."

  "Oh come on. Surely, we can keep some of the old traditions alive in this brave new land of ours? Freeloaders will bring us all down."

  Beside her, Finn twitched and clenched his fists. Ancel's hand moved to the dagger sheathed at his hip.

  "My daughter more than contributes towards the life of the Settlement,” he said, his voice tight and controlled.

  Kandar smiled pleasantly and raised his palms in a gesture of peace. “No offence intended. Naima's an example to us all. She deserves the best in life."

  "I think it's time to go.” Naima stood and reached for Finn's hand, praying he'd take it and walk away with her. The air between the three men crackled like an incendiary, the fuse burning alarmingly fast. She wasn't about to wait for the explosion.

  Finn stayed in place, his gaze firmly trained on Kandar, who was now grinning like the town idiot.

  "Carine,” she said, eyes widening in appeal. “You don't look well. Father, I think you should take her back to bed.” It was unfair of her to use her step-mother as a scapegoat; she knew how much Carine valued her independence and hated to appear weak. She also hoped Carine would appreciate the seriousness of the situation.

  Ancel's attention shifted to Carine. “I knew it,” he said and laid a hand on her forehead. “By the Gods, you're hotter than white-fire. What am I to do with you? Bed. Now!"

  Finn rose too. Evading Naima's searching hand, he continued to stare Kandar down. His lips curled back and he growled low in his throat. Naima almost choked in her attempt to cover it with a cough.

  "Finn, I'm not feeling well either,” she said. “I want to leave. Please."

  Finn ignored her. “Ancel,” he said. “I want to mate with your daughter. She wants me. What do you say?"

  "I'd say this whole thing stinks.” Kandar stepped forward and pulled a leather glove from his belt. “Fouler than a midden-pit in high summer. Something's wrong here, you must be able to see it?” He addressed the last part to Ancel. “Mate? What kind of word is that? This is a betrothal, not a rutting ceremony.

  "Kandar.” Ancel threw him a warning glance. “You talk too much."

  "Because I have important things to say.” Kandar slapped his thigh with the leather glove. Finn lunged, stopping only when Naima cried out and threw herself in his path.

  "No, you must stay calm.” She blocked Finn, arms spread wide and felt the frantic rise and fall of his chest. Her father's large bulk overshadowed her. Strong arms circled her waist and lifted her out of the way.

  "No,” she cried. “Let me go to him."

  "Keep still.” Ancel's arms tightened. “I'll not have you endangered. Finn, stand down."

  "Do as he says, Finn. Stay calm."

  Finn's head turned to the sound of her voice, fingers curling, spreading wide. He reached out for her.

  "Naima?"

  "I'm all right. Father, let me go to him. He'd never hurt me."

  "Go to Carine.” Ancel gave her a push and easily blocked her attempt to run around him. He stepped between the two men. “Kandar, I think you should go home before this escalates."

  "And I think you owe me a fair hearing when I have information involving the security of this Settlement. Information concerning your wife's attack."

  "Speak."

  Don't change, don't change. Naima repeated the mantra and watched the day that had started with such hope disintegrate into disaster.

  "He's been free for a while, hasn't he?” Kandar turned to Naima.

  Her cheeks flamed. “H
ow could he be?"

  "The day Carine was attacked, I noticed that the restraint had been replaced with a type 47306. The original was a 47305 with a reverse pivot latch, the previous model, I believe."

  Hell. Who else would have noticed such a small detail? She'd been so careful to choose an identical pair.

  "He's right. The original was faulty, so I replaced it,” she said keeping her features carefully neutral.

  "Why didn't you tell me?” Ancel scrutinised her, his expression hard to read.

  "Father, I replaced it. Finn let me replace it. If he'd wanted to run, he could have, easily."

  "Naima? Help me."

  The anguish in Finn's plea tore at her heart. His direct gaze told her how far forward he'd brought his wolf.

  "I'm here, Finn. Hang on. Kandar. Stop, please,” she said, clutching at straws now.

  "I do this for your own good, Naima. This man's a fake and I won't stand by and watch you make a fool of yourself.” The glove hit the paving stones with a soft slap. “By my right as an Eagle warrior, I challenge him to prove otherwise."

  Ancel's blade whipped from its sheath. “You'd fight a blind man?"

  "Blind man, my arse. His reactions are far too good for a blind man. Remove his eyeshades and let us see how blind he is."

  "Kandar, don't!” Carine's voice cut through the silence following Kandar's accusation. “Stay where you are. Finn, Naima's to the left of you. Take her hand. It's all right, no one means you harm."

  Ancel moved to cover Carine when Finn turned towards her. Naima took the opportunity to run to him and grab both of his hands. He was catatonic, stiff and unyielding. Beneath the shades, his eyes glowed faintly. Was she distracting him in his battle to stay human? Was he even aware of her? He appeared to have retreated to a place deep inside of himself. A place she couldn't reach.

  "Finn,” Carine said. “That's Naima. Can you hear her? Listen to her."

  "I...” Finn looked around, bemused, his gaze eventually settling on Kandar. “Don't make me fight you,” he said in carefully measured tones.