Dreams of the Forgotten (13 page)

Neoma was only seven, and she had strong physical similarities with the female warrior I'd seen all those years ago. She was tall, her eyes larger, cheekbones higher and more prominent, a square-ish cleft chin, and her hands were larger.

When I had first seen the boy a couple months ago, I'd been taken aback as the childhood face of my former lover looked back at me. Justus was the spitting image of Theo with his light blond hair and the same piercing blue gaze. He was withdrawn and suspicious of everything we said and did. I realized he'd expected to be punished and immediately praised him for caring for his sisters. It was the right thing to do because the tension had left him. He looked after his sisters, herding them everywhere. If one went somewhere, they all went. He too would grow up to be a warrior and he exhibited a certain pride in that fact, one that reminded me of my youth.

All the children had become more relaxed as the days wore on. I'd told them more than once they were with us to stay and read the continued disbelief in their faces. When their belongings were brought over from the apartment where they'd been living, Neesie had talked to them about decorating their rooms, and they began to believe a little. It broke my heart and pissed me off that pups that young were already jaded.

Inside the room, Uttu taught the children the stories of the Gods. Justus peppered Uttu with questions, eyes bright with interest.

"If we are from the Middle East, then why do I have blond hair and blue eyes? Why don't I look more like you?" Justus pulled a hank of his hair by his ear.

Uttu's skin was a rich almond color and at first glance she was sort of plain and unassuming. She had a large nose that was a little too flat, lips that were a little too plump, eyes a little too large and too far apart. Her shining black hair was always plaited in braids that wrapped around her head, creating a sort of crown of hair. But when she smiled, she went from plain to striking.

She gently pulled Justus's hand from this hair. "The Lycans have been a nomadic people for more than fortyfive hundred years. The God Shamash, from time to time, has called on the People to help him fight injustices around the world from the Mongolian plains to the Irish meadows or the jungles of South America. The People split and go where Shamash directs. Once the Lycans subdued the threat, they'd settle in the region and build lives for themselves. Intermarrying with humans has given the Lycans more diverse coloring. There are tribes spread all over the world and even though they may look different, they are still Lycans and descendants of Enkidu. The lines always breed true."

Neoma eagerly leaned forward. "My father said Lycans should only marry other Lycans."
Uttu smiled at Neoma. "In the beginning, Lycans intermarried with humans because they were too few. As the tribes have grown, the need to intermarry has passed. If a Lycan doesn't find their Twin Flame they'll mate with another, either Lycan or human, but there's no need to worry about genetics. The children from the unions are always Lycan. Your father's view of humans is his opinion. What is yours?"
Neoma's dark brows drew together as she gazed uncertainly down at her hands. "I don't know. I like the humans I go to school with but Father and Dad have always talked bad about humans."
"They were afraid humans would hunt us and kill us if they knew we were different." Justus took Neoma's hand. "There're more of them than us."
"Alpha Janick will keep us safe," Dawn said with conviction. "I've seen it."
"Dad said we needed a king to protect us from the humans. He said Tristan was a tribe alpha and couldn't protect us like a king could," Justus said. His fingers reached up and pulled the hair next to his ear.
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Justus. "Then we pick Tristan and declare him king. There's no king right now. We give him the crown. I've seen it."
"It's not that simple little one," Uttu interjected. "The God Mithra must declare the next Lycan king."
"Who's Mithra?" Neoma asked, scooting closer.
"Mithra is the guardian of the
Khvarnah
or the Divine Glory that alone bestows legitimacy to kings. He's guarded by the fierce Warrior God, Verethragna, who's able to take on ten forms. Verethragna's most fierce form is the sharp-toothed he-boar that has iron feet, forepaws, an iron tail, and iron jaws. In this form, he can kill with one stroke in defense of Mithra. They've never been seen without the other and have been missing for some time. Until Mithra can declare a king for the Lycan race, they'll have the alphas and the council to guide them."
Justus rested back on his hands and gave a disbelieving huff. "How can a God disappear? Someone knows where he is. What's the use of having power if you can lose one of your own?"
I grinned with pride. Justus was so bright. How did a God go missing and none of the other Gods know where he was at or how to find him?
I scented him before he walked up behind me, his large hands sliding around my waist. My Ushna. Everything about this man called to me. I turned my head and stared up into his bi-colored green and brown eyes. He ran his hand down my distended stomach. It was such a gentle and loving gesture. I turned in his arms, searching for a kiss as I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling his smiling lips down to mine. I'd never get tired of this. The press of his hard lips on mine, breathing the breath from his mouth, the slide of his tongue against mine. It never failed to stoke our desire.
He pulled away, smiling as one hand stroked my stomach, and the other landed firmly on my buttock. "I actually had a purpose in finding you."
I responded to Ushna's brilliant smile with one of my own. "So you aren't here to seduce me? Drag me off to our room and have some wild sex?" Ushna's chest rumbled, low and deep, causing my pulse to speed and my pants to tighten.
"No, I came because the parents are here for their audience."
I went from passion to anger in the blink of an eye. Ushna pulled me tighter to him. "You can't go in there with your opinion already formed." I pressed my forehead to his ear, forcing myself to calm down. "You need a clear mind to be just and fair."
"I know, I know. I can't imagine how anything they'll say will change what happened," I replied. "But I'll be fair and hear them out."
"I'm sorry." Justus stood in the doorway appearing worried. "If I'd been warrior enough to defend my sisters, the boys would've left us alone the first time."
"Justus," Ushna sighed, "what happened wasn't your fault."
He gave Ushna a stubborn look. "Father said I'm to be a warrior and I have a responsibility to protect those weaker than me."
Ushna moved away from me, pinned Justus with an assessing look, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Then you've passed through puberty and changed into your wolf for the first time?"
Justus's eyes grew large and I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. "No, sir," he replied.
"So you've trained with a Warrior Master and know the
Disciplines of Anat
?" Ushna didn't let up on his stare.
"No, sir." His bottom lip trembled.
"Justus, you were born
to be
a warrior. Becoming a warrior takes years of dedication and discipline. You aren't a warrior yet but I already know you're going to be a good one."
Justus straightened, his face brightened at the compliment. "Really?"
"You chose to protect those weaker than you. You didn't run from overwhelming odds but stood up to them. There isn't a warrior who wouldn't be proud to stand next to you."
I suppressed a groan as Justus puff up his chest with pride from Ushna's praise. Not that I objected to what he said. I imagined Justus blindly jumping into a situation without a thought of the consequences because his natural instinct to protect got a boost from Ushna's praise.
"I'll make a deal with you," I interjected, shooting Ushna a disapproving look. "It'll be good for you and Neoma to start training early." My words sped up because Justus was ready to burst with excitement. "But!" I paused to make sure I had their full attention. "You have to promise me you won't use what you learn until Master Corey says so. It'll be years before he'll give you the permission to use the skills he'll teach you. If you use your training before you're given leave, I'll take you out of the exercises until after your change. Do we have a deal?"
Justus bounced on the balls of his feet. Neoma stood behind him, her hazel eyes wide and a smile on her face. Ushna chuckled behind me. I thought I heard him say something under his breath but I ignored it. Sure, I remembered what it was like at his age, dreaming of being a warrior, but that wasn't my only reason. I'd feel better if Justus and Neoma were better equipped to defend themselves.
Dawn peeked out from behind Neoma, her face brightened when she saw us in the hallway. "Uncle Tristan!"
Her squeal strained my ear drums as she launched herself at me. I caught her underneath the arms and hoisted her only to have Ushna growl at me as he took her from me. "Tristan, you aren't supposed to be lifting."
"She weighs what? Ten, fifteen pounds?" I quickly replied as I tried to defeat Ushna's stare—tried being the operative word.
Dawn immediately took Ushna's side. "Uncle Tristan, you need to listen to Uncle Ushna and let him take care of you so you can have big, strong babies." Ushna smiled impishly at me, knowing I couldn't look cross-eyed at these pups without feeling guilty. That was fine, Ushna would get it later.
Atash barreled down the hall, excited to see them out of class. The son of Hakim and Marjan, he was ten years old, but no taller than Justus. Atash had been miserable when he was the only child on the ranch. With the pups living with us, the boy was in heaven. Justus, Neoma, and Dawn had taken him into their little group at the first hello.
I listened as the children babbled to each other. "You'll never guess what Uncle Tristan is going to let me do!" Justus exclaimed as he threw an arm around Atash.
"Us," Neoma corrected, throwing her arm around Atash's other shoulder.
Justus rolled his eyes at his sister. "Okay, us. He's going to let
us
train with Master Corey," he said with enthusiasm.
The three started to walk down the hall to the kitchen for their afternoon snack. Dawn kissed Ushna on his cheek, leaning over to donate one to me as well before she slid to the ground and followed the other kids.

I gazed after them for a moment before I returned my attention to Ushna, remembering why he'd come for me. I had parents awaiting an audience. I glanced down at my dark blue tunic embroidered with silver vines and wondered if I should change into something more formal and decided comfort was more important than impressing someone.

Slipping on the ring of illusion, we headed downstairs to the conference room. Hakim waited for us, hands clasped in front of him. Before we stepped inside, I instructed the guards to retrieve our guests. Ushna and I took our customary places at the table. I couldn't pull the chair up to the table but that wouldn't register with the parents once the conversation got under way.

The Weatherby family entered first. The father, Kent, and his wife, Joyce, were dressed impeccably in business attire while their son, Ira, was clothed exactly the opposite. The son had dark hair like his father, but he was all angles. His clothes were artfully ripped, with black nail polish and a silver hoop in his nose.

Ira tried hard to be what his parents were not. I knew from the report he was a born warrior, and by the way he appeared, he'd grow into an exceptionally large one. He hadn't been through his first change yet but his scent indicated it would be soon. He'd turn twelve in a few months, which was usually the time of transformation.

Ira slouched in the chair while his parents greeted me with firm handshakes. The boy studiously refused to look in our direction. His long dark hair covered his face, allowing me a quick glimpse of light caramel-colored eyes.

Stephen and Denise Gillander were next, followed by their son, Marek. The Gillanders were a family a little frayed around the edges. They wore their best for this meeting, but their best was careworn, although pressed with pride and care. They were tall with blond hair and varying shades of blue eyes. The father and son could've been brothers with the exotic tilt to their eyes and broad barrel chests. Stephen nervously shook my hand, his palm slightly damp. The pup, Marek, stepped up and shook my hand, not quite meeting my gaze but tilting his head in a show of submission to me. It was interesting he was the only one to do so.

I looked at the pup's bared neck and then purposely stared at each adult. Confusion, surprise, then embarrassment colored their faces. Whatever the child's transgression, in this he exhibited intuition and wisdom. It gave me hope the fight in the alley wasn't something these boys, or at least this one in particular, did regularly.

I gave him a small nod of recognition that made his cheeks color pink. I wasn't sure why I felt compelled but I reached out and touched Marek's neck. The distant Earth surged up through me and the skin under my fingers warmed. His eyes widened as he touched the small
ouroboros
, the ancient circular emblem of a serpent continually swallowing its tail. The rest of the room couldn't see what I'd done. I straightened the boy's collar, communicating with my eyes that for the moment, this was strictly between he and I.

Once everyone was seated, Gregori detailed our encounter with the children. I carefully watched everyone to gauge their reactions.

"We'd like to first hear statements from both of the boys before Alpha Janick passes judgment and punishment."

Ira gazed at me, his golden eyes mostly hidden by his hair, the ring in his nose glinting, "Justus is the progeny of a man who turned against his Twin Flame. Why should we have mercy for him?"

Ira and Marek were young. Pups that age wouldn't know what a progeny was, much less use the term. I regarded his parents. His father appeared embarrassed but his mother regarded the boy curiously. Marek stared hard at his hands as both of his parents stared at him with disapproval.

"What do you know of progeny, Ira?" I asked. He glared at me, either out of defiance or because he didn't want to admit he didn't know.