Authors: Kelly Meade
“Lead? She has lead poisoning?”
“Yes.”
“From what? What does that mean?” She’d heard of lead poisoning in humans, and she knew it was treatable in most cases. But in her entire life she’d never heard of a loup garou being poisoned by lead.
“It means that Miss Chelsea has been exposed to lead for quite some time, possibly most of her life. I can’t say for sure if it was environment until I test Mr. Leopold there. If he has elevated levels, we’ll know the cause.”
Shay’s heart gave a sharp tug. “And if his lead levels are normal?”
“Then my next best guess is her formula. You didn’t happen to bring any back?”
“No, we didn’t.”
I fed her that formula for a month. I may have poisoned my own niece.
“Is that why she isn’t waking up?” Shay asked. “What can you do for her?”
“She isn’t waking up because her body is shutting down.” Dr. Mike squinted, his cheeks reddening, as close to tears as she’d ever seen the big, burly man. “The poor lass has a few more hours at the most.”
Leopold made a distressed sound.
She didn’t understand. “A few more hours for what?”
“Before she passes.”
“But children get lead poisoning all the time, and it’s treatable.”
“Chelsea isn’t a human child. I’ve sent out requests to other run doctors for any information they might have on lead poisoning in loup, but I have to say that I’ve never seen it. I’m so sorry, Ms. Butler, but she’s not got much time.”
A knot formed in Shay’s throat, making it difficult to speak. Impossible to breathe. “So you’re saying that my niece is going to die.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But she was fine,” Leopold said. His wide eyes glistened with tears, and his grief made him look like a child himself. “She was fine until you left.”
Regret and outrage twisted Shay’s stomach. She couldn’t dispute his logic. He wouldn’t understand that if it was the formula, she was already sick when Shay escaped. All he knew was that Shay tricked him, left, and now Chelsea was dying. An angry noise not quite a sob ripped from her throat, and her beast rose up in furious protest. She slammed against Shay’s mind, demanding release, even though it had only been a few hours since her last shift. Shay couldn’t possibly manage the shift, but the fury wasn’t diminishing, and she didn’t want to lash out at anyone.
She couldn’t stand hurting anyone else.
“I’m sorry, Leopold.” The words tore from her on a gasp, and then Shay bolted.
She ran down the sidewalk, away from town. Toward the end of the street, and the wooden fence that marked the edge of town. Beyond that was a tree-dotted field, and farther than that the forest. A dark, damp forest that she could disappear into until her emotions righted themselves.
No.
Even in her worst moments, Shay knew better than to wander into the forest alone. Allison and Desiree knew she’d escaped and had taken Leopold and Chelsea with her. They knew where Cornerstone was, and that Shay had brought them here. Blood or not, they might want Shay dead for her betrayal.
She grabbed one end of the fence post and yanked. Wrenched it free of the ground, sending the crossbeams tumbling to the grass. She swung her post at the next, unsatisfied with the crack of wood on wood. Again and again, ignoring the dig of splinters in her palms or the burning fatigue in her arms and back. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she couldn’t stop the endless growling that came out with no thought or effort. Her entire being grieved for a baby she’d known for a month, and whose caregivers had unwittingly killed her.
Her beast calmed before Shay truly noticed, and in that brief instant of peace, she smelled him. Sensed him without even seeing his face. She didn’t protest the muscled arms that wrapped around her waist from behind. She fell back against Knight’s broad, solid chest and screamed her anger to the sky.
He held her through it, not speaking and not restraining. Existing with her. Being the strength she needed to continue standing, because she had none left of her own.
Eventually they sank to the ground. He leaned against the damaged post, Shay cradled between his legs. She twisted around so she could hug him, cheek resting on his shoulder. His hand sifted through her hair, so soothing. She inhaled his scent, and her beast settled completely, content to have him nearby.
Shay wasn’t so easily consoled.
“I heard,” he said, his voice a balm on an open wound. “I’m so sorry, love.”
“Why are you sorry? You hated her mother. We all do.”
She felt his flinch, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re right. Fiona deserved her death, but you said before the baby was innocent. She doesn’t deserve this. Any child’s death is a senseless tragedy.”
“I’ve already lost so much, Knight. I don’t know if my heart can bear it again.”
“You don’t have to bear it alone.”
“Desiree and Allison will think we murdered her.”
“If they find out. There is no reason they should. Not if we get them first.”
She hated the darkness in his voice when he spoke of the hybrids. The hate that oozed over every word and colored them black. She missed the honey-voiced man she’d first met so many weeks ago. A man irreparably changed by all of the events of the last two months. A man for whom she would fight to her last breath.
Something soft and warm pressed against her temple, a fleeting touch that buzzed across her skin. He’d kissed her. For the first time, he’d touched his lips to her body, and she was alive with awareness from the simplest of gestures. The heat of his body bled through the fabric of their clothes. His heart thumped steadily, its beat a lovely rhythm against her back. His scent filled her senses.
Desire pulsed in her belly, a new and unexpected thing. She had no idea what to do with it, so she stayed still in his arms. “Thank you for being here,” she said.
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Me either, my heart. Me either.
Bishop prided himself on keeping an outwardly calm exterior, even when he was panicking inside. And while he hadn’t panicked today, exactly, he couldn’t manage to quell the anxiety rioting in his stomach from the moment Jillian left that morning. He adored his wife, and they hadn’t spent a single night apart since their marriage. Hell, they hadn’t been physically separated for so long since Jillian first came to Cornerstone.
He pruned a handful of dead leaves from one of his potted yellow roses, having sought sanctuary in his conservatory. It was nearing midnight. A.J.’s team had left for home several hours ago, so it was a simple matter of patience.
Her steps on the floorboards outside the door alerted him an instant before her familiar peach blossom scent found his nose. Love and desire hit him at once, and Bishop turned, dropping the pruning shears to the table.
Jillian strode toward him with an exhausted smile, and he swept her up in his arms. Her body molded to his so perfectly, hips to hips, breasts to chest. His beast growled its appreciation. She carried the faintest scent of the other loup she’d spent the day with, as well as the rotten flower odor of the hybrids. He wanted to drag her to the floor and put his scent on her, to claim her, make love to her so everyone knew she was his.
Too bad for his libido that they had work to do first.
He kissed her soundly, satisfying himself with that for now.
“That’s the kind of greeting a girl can get used to,” Jillian said, rosy-cheeked from the kiss.
“I missed you.”
“Ditto. It’s been a crazy-assed day.”
“Yes, it has.”
“The baby?”
“No change as far as I’ve heard. Shay and Leopold have been with her all night. Knight pops in to see them, but Leopold doesn’t want him there for some reason.”
“He’s not family to Leopold.”
Bishop shrugged. His brother wanted to be there for Shay, but Knight would also defer to the wishes of the others. Letting the child go was hard enough without adding more stress.
They’d already planned a full debriefing in the morning, but he was curious. “So what did you bring back?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped. You can speak to Tanner personally, but he confirmed the sage scent in and around the building. It’s familiar to him, like the person was from Rockpoint, but he staunchly argues against anyone from there being involved. Alpha Corman is one of the most conservative Alphas around. He doesn’t tolerate humans in his town, so he’d never work with the hybrids.”
“I can believe that.” Bishop sat in one of the room’s chairs, and Jillian slid onto his lap.
“We also found a journal that the hybrids must have stolen from one of the Magi scientists who held them.”
That piqued his interest. “What did it say?”
“It detailed Chelsea Butler’s treatment as a test subject. Her life wasn’t the easy one that her children were led to believe. She was used, mistreated, and then murdered when she was no longer of use.”
Bishop growled. “But if the hybrids had this journal, then why did Fiona spout off to Brynn about how well Chelsea was treated?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that was what Fiona wanted to believe. She wanted to win Brynn over, and she couldn’t do that by making the Magi look like sadists.”
“Sounds reasonable. Sounds like the journal also gives more motive to the hybrids escaping from the Magi.” He glanced around as though it would magically appear out of thin air. “Where is the journal?”
“I locked it up in your office until tomorrow. Seemed safer than carrying it around.”
“Good call.”
Jillian grinned. “I know.”
“Don’t get sassy with me, wife.”
She trailed a hand down his chest and let it hover at his belt. “And what are you going to do about it, husband?”
He growled, his dick coming to life from the challenge in her voice. Without a word, he locked the conservatory door and proceeded to show his mate exactly what sass got her.
***
Knight turned from his bedroom window, where he’d stood for the last half hour, watching Dr. Mike’s house as if he’d know the moment Chelsea died. Even though it was past midnight, lights still blazed downstairs where Shay and Leopold were keeping vigil. Making sure the baby wasn’t alone.
He stretched out on his bed, still fully clothed and wide awake. He’d expected the day he found Shay again to be one filled with joy. Now her return was marred by grief. Another loss for a woman who’d already lost too much. He didn’t know how to give her back the love of life he imagined she’d once possessed—in those free-spirited days before her run was slaughtered and her sense of peace shattered.
Before every day became a battle for survival.
The old house creaked and sighed with movements. Everyone seemed to be awake still, despite the late hour. A.J.’s team had returned not long ago and a debrief was scheduled for nine o’clock tomorrow morning. So much had happened today, which was likely contributing to the general restlessness. And Mrs. Troost, bless her, wouldn’t turn in until the rest of the household had settled.
He couldn’t get his earlier conversation with Bishop out of his head. No matter how many times someone said otherwise, his existence as a young male White Wolf was the only reason why hundreds of loup garou were dead, and why three sanctuary towns were gone. Wiped from the face of the earth by savagery and greed.
Would he have preferred a life of sexual slavery in exchange for the lives lost over the last two months? No. Would he gladly make the trade in order to bring all of those lost souls back? Yes. And while his family and town were still under siege he didn’t deserve the peace and hope that loving Shay would bring. He hadn’t earned it.
Bishop would argue he had. Rook would do the same. The only person whose opinion on the subject mattered? Shay. And Knight couldn’t bring himself to discuss the silent pull they had toward each other. Not while she was suffering so great a loss.
The floorboards beyond his door creaked. Someone tapped lightly. He sat up, surprised by the faint scent of spring grass. It couldn’t be.
He opened the door. Shay stood at the threshold, arms wrapped around her middle, her pale cheeks dry. Even her eyes held no tears. Only an emptiness that made his heart ache. Her sorrow drifted off in waves that he accepted without question, hoping to take some of the burden from her.
“Is she gone?” he asked.
She nodded, her gaze never lifting past his chest.
“Leopold?”
It took her several tries to find her voice. “Mrs. Troost is settling him into a room upstairs. She even volunteered to help him get to know the house tomorrow.”
“That’s good.”
“He never left her side.”
“Neither did you. You loved her until the end.”
“It wasn’t enough to keep her.”
“No. There was no keeping her, love.”
“I don’t understand.” Her gaze shifted higher, not quite meeting his eyes. “I knew her for only a month. I found out she was blood only a few days ago. Why does this hurt so much?”
“Love is love. It doesn’t matter if it’s a week or fifty years. Losing a loved one always hurts.”
“I’ve lost so many people, Knight. So many.”
He wanted to hug her, to hold her until she let go of her control and grieved. He didn’t dare, worried he’d startle her or somehow make things worse. “I’m so sorry, Shay.”
“I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
She finally met his gaze. “Of losing you, too.”
The meaning of that statement socked him in the gut. His heart thrilled even as his beast hummed its satisfaction. He couldn’t promise her she wouldn’t lose him. He’d have never imagined losing his father or Winston, but they were both dead. No one was truly safe, and he didn’t want to lie to her. Ever.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Knight said.
She blinked. “Go on.”
Now or never.
“I’m scared of losing you, too.”
Shay moved first, wrapping her arms around his waist and hauling him into a firm embrace. He held her close, right around the shoulders, his fingers tangling in her thick, curly hair. She pressed her face into his neck and inhaled long and hard. Scenting him. Her breasts were firm against his chest, her heart a galloping beat. She filled his senses, and for the first time in months he felt the stirrings of arousal.
An arousal that he could not—
would not
—do anything about. Not like this. Shay was grieving. She was also a Black Wolf, and Black Wolves mated for life. He wasn’t going to lead her into something she might not want.
He also wasn’t going to send her away. Not when she so obviously needed him.
Leaving the door wide open for propriety’s sake, he slowly shuffled them both toward the bed. Shay came without question, and she didn’t protest when he maneuvered them into a sitting position, still wrapped up in each other. He’d hold her for as long as she needed him. He couldn’t completely remove her grief—nor would he if he could, because she needed to work through her emotions—but he could be there for her. Let her cry all over him if that’s what she needed.
“I’m here,” he whispered. “Anything you need, love.”
“Please just hold me.”
“Always.”
She shuddered, and then fell apart. She clung to him as she sobbed, her tears slowly soaking the sleeve of his shirt. He held her together as best he could, his heart crying with her even though his eyes remained dry. He’d lost his own tears somewhere along the way; Shay had enough for both of them.
As her grief waned, so did her energy. Knight arranged them so they were on their sides, Shay’s back to his chest—so much like they’d sat in the grass earlier. He curled around her, pleased with how perfectly she fit against him, both of their heads sharing a pillow. Her breathing steadied, and her heartbeat slowed back to a normal rhythm. Tense muscles relaxed beneath his touch.
He caught a glimpse of Mrs. Troost passing his open doorway. The house seemed to be settling around them. He didn’t know or care what time it was. Sleep crept in and began to take hold, urging him to close his eyes. To sink deeply into the amazing sense of peace that wrapped itself around him. Comforting him like a physical embrace.
Shay’s fingers twined with his, and she sighed. “Good night.”
He squeezed her hands. “Good night, love.”
They were breaking the rules by spending the night together, but tonight the rules could go take a flying fuck. Knight didn’t care about anything except the woman in his arms and the warmth buzzing in his blood.
Mine.
Shay shivered like she’d heard.
Knight fell asleep smiling.