Angered over not being able to beat the baby’s location out of his younger brother, the alpha stepped back, his heavy armor clanking noisily with every move he made. With a dip of his head, he signaled for a Tracker to move in and a heavily muscled man stepped forward, brandishing a new kind of whip, one with many sharpened blades tied to its end.
Dorian’s eyes darted from side to side. The torture was going to take a painful turn. And not one of the thirty or so people standing inside the room with him would lift a hand in his defense. Besides his brother, there was a group of two dozen wolf warriors, half of which were heavily armed, with long and sturdy swords made out of steel. The other half, mostly Trackers, were standing in a straight line to his left, all in their werewolf form. Should he so much as make a move to escape, they would kill him without question or remorse.
Aside from the two dozen warriors, two elders, both members of the Order watched the alpha carry out his interrogation. Lyko’s future mate stood alongside the elders, watching the procession with a mixture of fear and disgust.
The woman had once pledged herself as Dorian’s mate, but before he could claim her, his brother had intervened. Like everything else the lone wolf ever had, his brother had set his eyes on her, and what the alpha wanted, he got.
What the alpha didn’t know, however, was that among the pack were two werewolves who had chosen to ensure the survival of Dorian’s newborn son in spite of the price they would have to pay if they were caught betraying the king. One of them was the alpha’s own future mate, who had set her loyalty to her husband-to-be aside in order to hide the tiny baby from those looking to hunt and exterminate him.
As the giant of a man by the name of Blade stepped forward, whip in hand, Lone Wolf knew he would find no mercy in this adversary. His heart sank at the thought of undergoing another hour of torture.
“I will ask you one more time, where is the child?” Lykos asked.
“There is no child,” Lone Wolf lied, determined to hide his son’s whereabouts no matter what the consequences of doing so were.
“Enough of this! Where is the babe?” Lykos stepped forward as if to slap him, but refrained from doing so at the very last moment.
“Lykos, just kill me.” Dorian met his brother’s gaze and showed no fear. “You know I will not say a word of his whereabouts. It is done and he is gone. That is all I will say.”
Lyko’s face reflected such rage it contorted in an almost grotesque manner.
“Is that your final word?”
“It is,” Dorian replied.
“Blade! Have at it!” Lykos ordered.
The giant, Blade, presented Dorian with an ugly smirk before moving behind him. Without so much as a warning, he initiated his brutal assault on the Lone Wolf’s back with the newly acquired bladed whip, forcing the innocent man to cry out, finally, in his agony.
I thrashed and whimpered as Dorian ValKhazar’s pain became mine. I was absorbed in the nightmare—or memory—and there was little I could do to stop myself from reliving these events. The only thing I could do was go along with them and see what was being shown to me. Maybe, in time, I would understand their importance.
Release finally came when the dream suddenly changed and I was no longer watching Dorian being tortured, but Lyko’s future mate coming into focus instead.
Adela hurried to the docks, dashing through trees, leading a woman carrying a child in her arms while she held another. She kept a vigil eye at all times, stopping only to allow her companion a meager few minutes of rest before continuing on with their journey. Though Adela understood that her companion could not travel as easily or efficiently as she could due to her human nature —especially during the late night hours—they could not dilly-dally.
A huge vessel was docked at the harbor, awaiting the woman and children’s arrival. Within minutes, they would be taken away from the ValKhazar territory. Hopefully, to never be seen again. That was the plan and Adela would do anything in her power to see that it was carried out accordingly.
Time was of the essence and she could not afford a mistake. She had to deliver Dorian’s son to the hands of the wolf who would care for his surrogate mother, brother, and himself from this day forth. She had dallied enough since the woman had grown tired and requested to stop to catch her breath on several occasions.
However, once the marina came into view, Adela finally breathed in a sigh of relief. They had made it—in spite of the long hours of travel and the fear that they would, eventually, be caught by Lyko’s Trackers.
Hours of arduous traveling had culminated in the moment when Adela, the woman, and the children arrived to where the elder Tracker and a crew of human sailors waited for them. In spite of the odds against her, Adela had played her part in the strategy designed to save Dorian’s son and the woman who cared for him, successfully thus far.
Lykos had been closing in on the whereabouts of the child, coming to suspect, even, that his brother had hid his child in a human village in the outskirts of the ValKhazar territory, which was fairly accurate considering the alpha’s deduction was only due to the fact that he couldn’t find the baby elsewhere.
This prompted those involved to act, quickly.
A week later, the final stage of the plan had arrived.
Upon spotting Adela and her companions, the elder Tracker stepped forward to meet her on the harbor. Relief was visible in his dark features. Adela suspected he had begun to think their plan had been uncovered and they were, perhaps, being taken to the ValKhazar palace to face justice at the hands of Lykos and the Order.
“What took you so long?” he asked, sounding a little impatient.
“Do you forget she is a mortal and cannot travel as quickly as we can? Besides, we carry two small children with us,” she replied. “They required feeding along the way.”
Her explanation seemed to calm his nerves somewhat.
“Who are all these people?” Adela asked once she caught sight of many women and children boarding the huge vessel. She had been under the impression only the woman and the boys would be aboard the ship, aside from the sailors themselves.
“It would look oddly suspicious for only one woman to be traveling alone with two babes among a sea of sailors, would it not?” the man replied. “Besides, we can hide their scent better this way.”
“I suppose so.” She held on tight to Dorian’s eight-month-old son, secretly wishing the child had been born out of their mating. She had loved Dorian since she was but a pup, but the moment Lykos banished his twin brother, leaving him vulnerable to exposure in the human world, Adela knew the opportunity to mate with her true love had gone along with Dorian’s departure.
“Where is the ship headed?” she asked, forcing the sad memories out of her mind.
“As far as you and everyone else are concerned, that is a mystery.”
The elder Tracker was right. The less she knew the better it was for her.
“Bayard, take good care of them.” Adela turned to the woman and her child. “She is noble, kind, and good-hearted. She has taken good care of Dorian’s child. Her life means much to Dorian...and myself.”
Bayard acknowledged the woman to Adela’s right in silence for a moment. She could tell he, too, was hopeful that all would go well and that Dorian’s son would live a long and happy life the way he deserved.
“I will protect them with my life. I promised Dorian I would. Once she has established a new life for herself and the babes at our destination, I will come back. But you must take your leave at once. Lykos must not suspect a thing. If you are late arriving at the palace he will surely suspect something is amiss.”
Adela wanted to leave, but she felt a strange sort of ache in knowing she would never see the babe again and neither would his prince father. Her gaze settled on the tiny bundle of joy in her arms and she smiled at the look of pure innocence behind those hazel eyes. The little boy was the spitting image of his father.
“Do not worry. Dorian’s child will die
of old age. Not slayed by Lykos hand, of that I give you my word,” Bayard assured her.
“May God be with you all,” Adela said, hugging the babe to her bosom for a few seconds before handing him over to Bayard. “This child is Dorian’s legacy. He must live to ensure his father’s sacrifices will not be in vain.”
Bayard took the child and gazed at him with admiration. “He will be protected.”
Turning to her right, Adela addressed the dark haired woman. “This is Bayard. He will lead you and your family to safety. All your economical needs will be taken care of. Banished or not, Dorian is still prince and heir of the ValKhazar fortune. His assets will now be his son’s.”
“I worry not about the gold coins he promised, but of our lives,” the woman said. “What will become of us and this danger that forces us from our home?”
Bayard settled a large hand on the woman’s shoulder and said, “That’s what I am here for. I will ensure your safety from this day forth.”
Though she did not voice out any more concerns, Adela could easily read uncertainty in the woman’s eyes.
“I will leave now.” Though assured that Dorian’s child was in safe hands, Adela still stepped, hesitantly, aside as Bayard led the woman and her babe onto the large vessel. It was the last glimpse of Dorian’s child she would ever see and she wanted to recall it for future reference.
The woman, she knew was named Marjorie, was of a valiant breed indeed. Though she was made aware earlier of the risks that caring for Dorian’s child represented, and in spite of being forced from her home to travel to unknown destination, the woman did not bat an eye when it came to making the right choice.
Adela did not know the human woman personally, but she had perceived enough to know Dorian had picked the right woman to care for his son. She would be a good mother and caretaker. Dorian, though hours away from being killed, would never have to worry about his child’s well-being. Adela had all the confidence in the world the child would make it.
And would be safe from Lyko’s tyranny.
As the ship set sail, Adela turned, and began her long journey back home.
I woke up with a start, my body jumping slightly as my eyes popped open. I sat up and scanned the room, coming to the realization that I was alone in Kyran’s bedroom.
Up to a certain point, I’d tried to deny that there was something far from normal going on with these unusual dreams, but it was useless now. They were memories. I was positive of it. I was being shown how and when the Lost Child came to be. Albeit, hesitant to admit my possible relation to the child in question, I was more convinced now that I was related to these people.
I had to be. Why else would I be shown the truth? It made perfect sense. Marquis had said only members of the same pack could transfer thoughts and memories to one another. Maybe someone was sharing their memories with me. But who?
The Rousseaus were almost certain that I was a descendant of this legendary child, which was still hard for me to accept, especially when considering that no one knew whether he’d made it into adulthood or not. Suppose the baby had died at some point in his life. If that were the case, I couldn’t possibly be related to him. But it seemed as if the Rousseaus were already convinced and were only waiting confirmation.
If they were proven right, what would that mean for me anyway? Was I the human descendant of an ancient breed of werewolves born with a distinct trait that prevented them from consuming their natural prey? If so, what did that make me?
Chapter Seven
What would this mean for my family? Which one of my parents carried the werewolf gene? I made a quick inventory of my many memories of Dad growing up and I could actually recall a couple of times when he fell ill. When it came to Mom, however, I couldn’t remember any. But then she had vanished when I was eight so I didn’t have as many memories of her as I did of Dad.
A light tap on the bedroom door brought me out of my reverie. I called out for Kyran to step in—since I was fairly certain it was him on the other side—and was rewarded when he opened the door. The smile on his face momentarily abated the doubts circling inside my crowded mind, and I relaxed upon noticing that his features were a lot calmer, and he seemed in a much better mood than earlier.
“Hey,” he greeted as he sauntered into the bedroom. “I felt you stir back to life and thought I’d stop by and check up on you.” He walked over to the bed and sat down next to me.
I stared at him in silence for a moment. How could I hear Simone’s thoughts earlier yet I couldn’t hear his? It was so confusing.
“I...dreamt...of the past,” I admitted. “Dorian...? He was the king’s twin brother, wasn’t he?”
Kyran took my hand in his. “Yes.”
“I saw him...” I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing to mind Dorian’s—the Lone Wolf’s—face to mind. “We share similar features.” We definitely looked like we belonged to the same family that’s for sure.
“I would expect him to,” Kyran stated. “When it comes to werewolf families they often share many physical characteristics that run from generation to generation.”
The portraits of the Rousseau family members aligning the walls of the grand hallway definitely served as testament to Kyran’s statement. Many looked so much alike they could pass for Kyran’s and Alexi’s twins—one particular woman being identical to them. It was scary how much they resembled their long since deceased family members.
I opened my eyes, turning my head slightly to the left to look up at him. “He suffered before he died.” Dorian was whipped until his back was red, oozing blood, and raw. The pain he was forced to undergo was still very fresh and vivid in my head.
“So goes the legend,” Kyran acknowledged. “He paid a hefty price in order to ensure his bloodline. I’d say it was well worth it.” He touched my cheek with the back of his free hand. His gaze locked on my face. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Was it worth it? What would Dorian say had he survived his ordeal? Would he have agreed with Kyran’s statement?
“I guess I will never know,” I murmured. In my dream, he had appeared resigned to his fate, but one cannot know for sure. He could’ve changed his mind. Or his outlook in life could have been different had he been alive today.
The past week had changed my perspective of life even more than the accident that almost cost me my life over a year ago. I guess one can say the whole incident with Santos had matured me all the way. I definitely didn’t feel like the same nineteen-year-old girl anymore.
“Marjorie.” Kyran’s features hardened a bit. “The man we spoke of earlier is here to see you.”
I was nervous about the meeting. I was afraid of what I would find out, but at the same time, knowing the whole truth was better than being kept in the dark.
“I guess there’s no reason to postpone this meeting,” I said, letting go of Kyran’s hand to shove the covers down to my knees.
“Let me help you with the leg brace.” Kyran reached for the leg brace, which he’d settled on top of the nightstand moments before stepping out of the room and helped strap it to my leg. As much of a nuisance as it was, it did help relieve my discomfort whenever I had to walk around.
Once the leg brace was in place, he carefully swung my legs over the side of the mattress to the edge. I hung onto his arms as I scooted closer to the edge of the bed, and was finally able to settle both my feet on the floor.
“Could you, maybe, get my crutches?” I let go of his arms and glanced up at him. “I’d like to rely on myself to get around. You guys do so much for me already and this just feels like yet another task.” I gestured at my knee. “I’d like to start being a little more independent.”
By way of response, Kyran leaned down, hooked his hands under my arms, and helped me to my feet. Face to face, he drew me closer still and said, “This isn’t a task. I’m taking full advantage of your inability to run away from me. Every stolen moment I can have with you is worth its weight in gold, Marjorie. You said earlier that
time is the one thing we don’t have. I’d like to enjoy every second we do have...free of outside influence. Where it can be just us.”
Doubts assailed me. Was it the bonding talking? Or was it really him?
“You can’t be here for me every second either,” I tried to argue. “I have to go back home eventually. My family needs me.”
Kyran looked away, his arms instantly loosening their hold on me. “Have you thought about the fact that you might not be able to go back home?”
I gaped at him. “Why not? If the alpha is no longer a threat to my family, I don’t see why I can’t go back home.”
“What if you’re forced to leave this place? To put considerable amount of distance between those you love and yourself?”
I shook my head. “I don’t see why I would need to do that. I can’t leave my family. They need me. My father...he...” I stopped. The depth of what Kyran had said hit me. What if he was right? What if the only way out was for me to leave? I didn’t want to leave my family behind, but neither did I want to risk their lives.
“This is an option you need to think about, Marjorie. You might need to make this decision in the near future and it’s best if you prepare for it,” he said, releasing me and taking a step back. “Now let’s go downstairs.” He extended his hand.
I stared at the pale hand, and came to the conclusion that, although I had often thought about how much my life had changed, the extent of that hadn’t really hit home until now. As much as I wanted to have my old life back, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
This new me—this new life was rapidly evolving into something else. I wasn’t afraid as much as I was worried for my family. My dad especially. My mom had picked up and disappeared one day without warning. Without a goodbye note. Without a goodbye kiss. A goodbye hug. And I was worried that by disappearing, he would be devastated all over again.
It’d taken quite a few years for him to pick up the pieces after Mom left. When he finally met Vicki, I saw him smile again. Be his old self again, and I’d begun to hope their relationship would help him get back on his feet. It did. They fell in love and married all within a year. By December, Vicki and her then toddlers moved in and we became a family.
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