by Tigris Eden
Her daughter did what Jes thought a wolf would do to an outsider encroaching on their territory. Her little girl’s breathing became erratic, and she sniffed the air around her mother’s neck, then her face. She can smell him on me. This could go south really fast. Her little girl was nice, but didn’t like to share what she’d claimed as hers. Jes belonged to Faith. Her daughter was very protective of her mother. Draven’s head shot up at the sound of her daughter taking careful inventory of the scents her mother now wore on her skin, her face buried in her mother’s neck. Faith seemed to calm after a moment and sighed deeply. This was definitely new. She‘d never reacted this way before to a stranger’s scent. It’s his daughter; maybe she knows he’s a part of her? Could be. But Jes wasn’t the expert on werewolves and their offspring. She was learning as she went, taking things one step at a time. Even Bells wasn’t the leading expert. She only knew werewolves were born not made. That was the end of her lessons. Every day there was something new to discover with Faith.
It seemed like Draven was sifting through the scents of the house with his nose. Or maybe he was just inhaling really deeply. She did know Weres had advanced olfactory system, but at times of heightened stress or emotions, it took them a bit longer to sort through what they perceived. She’d assumed because he was a werewolf he would pick out the scent sooner, of course, as Faith was half-werewolf, but it seemed Draven was either not acknowledging that he had a child, or was still trying to figure out the confusing situation.
“I want the both of you in my life,” he said on a short breath.
“What?”
“You and your daughter. I want us to be a family. My scent is strong on the both of you. I don’t understand how. I don’t even know what it means. All I know is I can’t live another day without knowing it’s you I will come home to.”
The bottom of her reality dropped out. She wasn’t ready for another relationship; she’d just gotten out of one. Sure, there were feelings there, but who jumped ship this quickly? Marcus was bad for you, Draven will be good. That could be true, but was she really ready to chance that? He’d lied to her. Told her she couldn’t get pregnant. Left her just to go and have some other woman wrapped around his body like a kimono. All the hurt he’d caused was flooding her memory and putting her on the defensive. Faith rubbed her hair in a soothing motion. So many times the role of caretaker switched between mother and child. Her daughter was only five, she shouldn’t have to deal with a mother who was a psychological wreck and emotionally dead. Too much had happened, and the love she had left didn’t have room for Draven. Her heart was too crowded.
“I don’t understand what that means, but I have something that needs to be said.” She rubbed her daughter’s back. She was going to be strong for Faith, strong for the both of them. Faith deserved to be a child, not an emotional blanket for her mother’s tattered soul. Draven nodded and waited for Jes to speak.
Jesminda never got the chance. Her little girl bulldozed right into the conversation. Sleepy green eyes pierced identical green. Draven’s face paled like a white-out during a snowstorm. He swallowed once, twice. Nostrils flared, and his eyes sought Jes’s for confirmation. Yup, she’s ours.
“You’re like me, but you’re a boy. Mama says boys are dirty and smelly and I should stay far away from them in the sand box. You—” She pointed at a sickly looking Draven, “are not dirty at all.”
He almost knocked her and her daughter over as he stood. It was fast enough that the coffee table slid back a couple of inches for good measure.
“Whose child is that?” He pointed a finger in the direction of Faith.
“I’m trying to explain,” Jesminda protested. Faith tried to pry herself from her mother while attempting to whisper, but she failed miserably, like most children her age did.
“Mama, he’s mine, right? I want to keep him, can I?” Draven looked between her and Faith and took another step back. He was scared, unsure. It wasn’t like she’d hid her child. Sure, she could have said something sooner. That would have been the adult thing to do. But she’d kept quiet instead, letting the idea of the two of them meeting fester in her gut. She’d fucked up.
“Faith, he’s not a boy, and he’s not a pet, and yes, he’s like you. This is Mr. Stone.”
Faith eyed him a moment longer and cracked one of her blinding smiles as she whispered,
“You don’t look like a stone.” Faith turned back to her mother, confused and almost looked a little hurt. “If he’s a stone then so am I. We’re alike.”
Jesminda laughed, kissed the top of her daughter’s curls, and nodded in agreement.
“Mr. Stone, I’m a stone you’re a stone, so let’s be friends.” There was that blinding smile again.
Faith held out her arms to him, and for a second, Jes’s heart cracked. What if he didn’t go to her? What if he backed farther away? Their daughter was not one to take no for an answer or handle rejection all that well. Draven cracked a cautious smile and walked slowly over to Faith. Jes’s heart expanded at his actions. Faith had that effect on people, didn’t matter the situation. Her daughter was a people person. She chose her words wisely for a little girl. She thought hard before she spoke to anyone. But not her father, she knew on some level he was hers, must be a werewolf thing. How else could she explain how her little girl knew?
Draven reached a testing hand to their daughter and Faith took his hand and used it to get out of her mother’s grasp. Draven and Faith looked at each other, and for long seconds neither of them said a thing. It was like they were getting to know each other; silently communicating their thoughts. Her daughter walked closer and sniffed him on the hand. Draven didn’t move, he stood there and let her feel him out. After she walked a complete circle around him, she faced him head on and reached her hands up so he could pick her up. He was hesitant at first, he looked over to Jesminda as if to ask permission, and once he got her approval, he scooped her into his arms.
# # #
The small child Draven held looked exactly like her mother, but also like him. The likeness squeezed his chest, hard. He’d been handled by a five-year-old. There was a striking resemblance to Draven’s mother, Mara, as well. Everyone always said he looked like his mother, now he knew why. The little girl looked a lot like his mother, but like him as well. Faith had stood with trusting knowledge and challenged him. Did a complete three-sixty around his entire body. And he’d let her. Anyone else walking into his space in direct challenge would be down, throat up in submission. His wolf knew her to be his, and the animal side of him was proud to have created such a miracle. Five years. Five fucking years he’d missed out on watching her grow. His mother would be shamed. He’d gone outside of their family’s wishes and bonded with a human. Once Mara got over the initial shock, she would be more than proud to call this bundle of heaven her granddaughter. Faith would be accepted.
She was beautiful, a special blend of him and her mother in a way that would have all wanting the love of this amazing little girl. Her beautiful curls cascaded in long chunky spirals to the middle of her back. Amazing eyes, green like his with flecks of gold like her mother’s outlining the outer rim. Beautiful golden hued skin was soft and warm in his arms. She belonged to him, and even if she didn’t, Jesminda was still his mate. His wolf howled with satisfaction of the realness of it all. He couldn’t sire a child with a human unless she were destined to be his.
Irrefutable evidence no one could deny, his daughter was a wolf. She would get the respect she deserved, as would her mother by his side.
“Hi,” Faith whispered.
“Hey, angel,” he said with a smile. He brought her close, breathing her in. How could something so small have such a gratifying effect on his heart? She was so caring and trusting, the way most young were with their parents. What the hell had he been thinking when he’d said he didn’t want to have any pups? To feel the joy and warmth he was feeling now would be a blessing any man would want. She is ours. He looked down at Jesminda, who’d star
ted to cry. Her shoulders shook silently and he didn’t know if they were tears of joy or pain. He should have been there for her, for them, from the beginning, not five years later. He didn’t have time to overanalyze the past, but somehow, he should have known. The only thing out of the ordinary that evening had been his animal side’s attempt to bond. Was that the missing link? If he’d lingered a bit longer, would he have realized the change? He couldn’t deny there had been a connection. He’d reacted to her instantly. That in itself should have tipped him off. He was an ass, an arrogant ass. He’d written her off because she was human. He’d only wanted to have sex with her. Had he taken the time to really get to know her, things would have ended differently. Don’t make the mistake a second time.
He walked over to the couch with Faith wrapped around him like a monkey, sat next to Jesminda, and brought her into his other shoulder, trying to soothe her. He would always want this, his daughter and mate tightly embraced within his security. He’d been in the shadows for too long. Living a life that was darkened by what he was. The dark would always embrace him. The moon would have it no other way. But he wouldn’t be alone in it. Instead, he would be enslaved by it, fully embracing its nature with his mate. Jesminda was in a different kind of dark, and he needed her to be in the light. Standing with him as equals, she was strong and capable. She only needed to be pulled in the right direction. His mother had always said: “Behind a strong Alpha was a very capable and stronger Luna.”
“Momma, don’t cry. Mr. Stone isn’t going to hurt you. Promise,” Faith said as she reached over and patted her mom on the shoulders. Her small delicate fingers rubbed soothing strokes along her mom’s skin. Her senses were well developed. Faith was attuned to her mother as a pup should be. The difference was, this bond should have been reciprocated between mother and child. Humans were different in the rearing of their offspring. Pups needed constant touching and reaffirmations of their parents’ security and love. He had no doubt Jesminda loved Faith with every part of her, but there was more his daughter required as a wolf. Female pups naturally tended to display stronger emotions than male pups, but the coddling and caring were no less. Jes didn’t realize that her actions and constantly uprooted emotions had negative effects on Faith. His daughter handled it better than most pups would, and he was sure a lot of it had to do with her being around humans. It would take time for all parties to adjust.
“Jesminda,” he whispered into her hair. “Honey, look at me.”
She looked up with watery eyes and smiled. So many emotions were showing in her warm honey gaze. She was happy, but also scared. He could smell her anxiety, it was bitter and dry. How could he tell her things would be good between them? How could he explain that she mattered to him on a level where nothing else existed? Distance and time separated them, tested them, and they still sat here today. A family he would go to great measures to see complete. Happy.
Faith looked over, smiling with beautiful dimples on each side. Her canines wouldn’t be long for another ten years, but they were still sharp. Her claws were well pronounced, as well, highlighted by red nail polish. He held in his smile, knew it was something Bells must have done to create some sort of distraction while her mother was en-route to pick her up. Half-breed werewolves had a much harder time with the change, not his child. He’d never met a half-breed, had heard the stories of some dying mid-change. He hugged his precious daughter closer. He’d make sure that didn’t happen. Neither his nor Jesminda’s heart would be able to handle the loss.
“I want to tell you something, as well, but maybe we should take this one step at a time. I just met her and there are still things we have to deal with as far as Marcus is concerned.”
Faith rumbled a growl low in her throat at hearing Marcus’s name. Draven coughed back a laugh. His daughter was smart. Elation and pride at what he’d found out today was something he’d never have expected. Damn, what an asshole he must seem like. Leaving Jes alone, not knowing he’d gotten her with his young and then forcing her to deal with all the pains of being a single parent. That would not be the case ever again. From now on, it would be the three of them. She didn’t know yet, but soon she would.
There was a loud crash at the front of the house and in walked the man from the rest stop along with a very pissed off Royce and an equally upset Bells. Thought she was in the bathroom?
“They’re here,” the stranger said. “Get the child and mother somewhere safe.”
14
You can’t be serious? Someone had followed them? How? How had they fucking missed that?
“Who the fuck is here?” Draven hollered. Faith crawled from his lap to her mother’s. She knew he needed to be able to attack at a moment’s notice. That’s my girl, Jesminda thought.
“Who are you?”
Jes looked at the stranger from the rest stop. She’d danced with this man, and he’d not given her any reason to think he was following them. She could feel the dread in the air, almost taste it. An acrid smell lingered, compressing the space, making it thicker. It became eerily quiet. Everything seemed to shut down - bugs, machines, even the wind stopped blowing. She looked from Draven to Royce then back to the stranger. All the men in the room were glaring at one another, and their testosterone was a firm brush against her skin, heated and angry.
“I asked you a question,” Draven repeated. Royce moved into position behind Solon so that he and Draven now blocked the stranger in.
“I am Solon, of House Phoenix.”
“You’re full of shit! I’m of House Phoenix, and I would know my own kin,” Bells retorted forcefully.
Something bad was coming, Jes could feel it.
“House Phoenix?”
“Explanations later, fight now.”
The ground rocked with such force, Jesminda thought it was an earthquake. Faith clutched her in a strong hold around her neck, and Bells quickly rushed the three of them into the back room of the house. Jes held tight to Faith as she and Bells checked the doors. Bells was making her way over to the window when it shattered. The shards sprayed in all directions. It sounded like cymbals clashing as Jes turned and bent at the waist shielding her daughter. Small fragments embedded in her skin, but the pain was minimal compared to the pain she would have felt if the glass had cut Faith. It didn’t matter that her daughter could heal herself; if she could prevent Faith from feeling the smallest amount of pain, she was all for it.
The sound of fighting came from the front room as the men tried to keep their attackers back. Snarls and the sound of bodies crashing against the walls shook the foundation of the house. The noise was chaotic and muffled. She could feel the pounding of her heart in her ears, a deafening sound as it rose to a loud crescendo threatening to split her open. Who had followed them? Who was here? Bells shoved a hard hand to her side, and because she was holding Faith in a death grip, she hit the ground hard. More shards dug deep into her skin, and she let out a sharp cry of pain, but stayed down.
She tried to shield Faith from as much of the scene as possible. Jes turned slightly to see what had caused Bells to push her down and couldn’t believe the horror displayed in front of her. Her friend had shifted into her phoenix form. Long, multi-colored feathers jutted from slits in her shoulder blades. The ends of her primary feathers were tipped with fire that crackled and whipped when she moved. Her long, lithe form stood tall, almost seven feet. The ethereal face of her friend stunned Jes into shock. Bells’ long, straight hair was now a mane of iridescent flames that matched her eyes. She was beautiful and dangerous. She whipped her head around sending tendrils of flame out. All of her opponents were taken down with one swift move. What were those things?
Their faces were void of emotion and fear. Their skin looked wrong, rotted in some places. They just continued to come through the window, one by one. The only sound they made was the sound of their shoes crunching on the glass as they stepped through what was left of the window. Long claws stuck out between the flesh of their fingertips, and it seemed
to be peeling away from the bone, hanging by threads. Their clothes looked new, except for the blood that oozed from holes in their chests. Jes covered her daughter’s face from the grotesque scene before them. She didn’t want her to have nightmares, and it was a blessing they didn’t howl in pain as Bells took them out with her fiery mane of hair. It was a dance of death as she whipped her hair back and forth in an arc of power and darted from side to side to catch them as they continued to intrude. It was elegant and seductive. Bells made it look both effortless and alluring.
Strong arms pulled her and her daughter up, and then her child was being lifted out of her arms. It was Royce, his face more pronounced now that his fangs were showing. He pulled her to her feet, took one look at the wounds on her arms and cursed.
“Come on, I need to get you and the kid out of here. Now!” He spared one glance at Bells and must have assumed she could handle herself because he began leading them towards the front of the house at a quick pace. The living room was decimated. It looked as if someone had committed mass murder. Bodies littered the floor in pieces. Blood decorated the walls in an abstract design like a Jackson Pollock painting. It looked like someone’s intestines were hanging from the ceiling fan. Jes was going to be sick for weeks just thinking about the scene displayed in her friend’s front room.