and took a step towards her. Even though
he was halfway across the room, she
flinched away from him.
She didn’t look at him when she spoke
next. It was as if she were afraid to see the
truth in his eyes. “What really happened
that night, Nash? The night when the moon
was full and your mother tried to kill me.
Were you there to protect me or to watch
me die?”
He lowered his eyes. “That depended
on you.” He forced himself to speak
truthfully to her even at the risk of hurting
her.
“On me?” she questioned, looking at
him with confusion.
“I followed you that night. I think you
heard me in the alley. You looked in my
direction in any case.”
“I thought I was imagining things.”
“You had your sword. You were on
your guard, ready to strike down anything
that threatened you or the village.”
“And what should I have done, Nash?
Stand by and watch an entire village be
slaughtered while I did nothing?” she said,
face flushed with anger now.
“I wanted you to trust me,” he
admitted. “I wanted you to believe I
wasn’t a monster, that my people aren’t
animals.”
She looked away. “I do believe that.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “You’ll never
know how glad, but for a moment, when
the Wolves came out of the forest and you
drew your sword against my people, my
family, I thought I was going to have to
watch you die.”
The look of anguish that crossed her
lovely face tore at his heart. He took a
step closer to her and she a step
backwards.
“Then you tossed your sword away. It
seemed as though you’d rather die than
kill.”
“I’ve killed so many,” she whispered.
Her eyes closed, but regretful tears leaked
beneath her lids and slid over her smooth
cheeks.
“Is that why you dropped your
weapon?”
She shook her head. “I saw a little,
gray Wolf with a barrette in her fur.”
It took Nash a moment to put two and
two together. “Carsha?”
Maralee nodded. “I realized the
Wolves were your people. Before that
moment, I had myself convinced that you
were a half-Wolf creature and you
protected Wolves, but I never imagined
that all of the people of your village were
Wolves. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?”
She shook her head. “Probably not. It
was our sons that convinced me to stop
killing.”
Nash was flabbergasted. “Our sons?”
he murmured. His heart skipped a beat as
the implications of her words sank in. He
rushed forward and collected her tense
body in his arms. “Maralee, are you…are
you with child?”
She shook her head miserably. “I so
wanted to be,” she admitted. “I dream of
them, Nash. They are perfect, brilliant
boys. They have your crazy hair and…and
my eyes.” All the air rushed from Nash’s
lungs as his hopes plummeted to the tips of
his toes. Maralee smiled up at him, her
eyes shining with love. “I hope I will
become pregnant soon,” she said. “I know
that you will make a wonderful father and
I can’t wait to hold them.”
Nash avoided her gaze. How could he
tell her that he would never be able to
give her a child? It had never occurred to
him to inform her of his sterility. It was no
secret among his people.
“Don’t you want to have children of
your own?” she asked. She touched his
face to force him to look at her.
“I’ve always wanted children,” he
admitted. “It’s just that…just that I…” He
couldn’t bring himself to say it, not with
the look of yearning in Maralee’s eyes.
“Is it because I’m human?” she asked.
“You don’t want—”
He silenced her by placing two fingers
over her soft lips. “It’s not you. It’s me. I
can’t have children. Wolf guardians…
are…sterile.”
She shook her head in denial, her eyes
filling with tears again. “That can’t be,”
she whispered against his fingers. “I saw
them, Nash. They were both so handsome
and strong. They would make you so
proud.”
“It was just a dream, Maralee,” he
said, his own heart twisting with loss, as
if his words had ended the lives of his
unborn children.
She shook her head again. “My dreams
aren’t like normal dreams. I see things.
My ancestors knew powerful magic. It’s
my gift. My curse. I saw our sons, Nash.
They were as real as you and I. You didn’t
see them. If you saw them, you’d know
that they have to be real. They are our
future, Nash. Our future together.”
“I can’t have children, Maralee,” he
snapped. “If you want to find a man who
can give you babies, then go! Leave! Just
get the hell out of here!”
She gasped, recoiling from his anger
with fear and hurt. He immediately
regretted his harshness, but she had to get
this foolish idea out of her head now. He
knew what it was like to want a child
more than anything and fail every time. He
wasn’t going to go through that again, and
he didn’t want Maralee to feel the
embittering disappointment.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asked
in a small voice.
“No, damn it,” he growled. “I won’t
let you leave. I’ll never let you leave me
ever again. You are mine.”
He hugged her tightly until she
protested for lack of air.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, kissing
tears from her cheeks. It was a moment
before he realized that most of the tears
were his own mingling with hers.
“It’s
all
right,”
she
murmured
soothingly. “I just…I was so sure…I…
then perhaps my other dreams won’t come
true either.”
“What other dreams?” he asked,
looking down at her.
Her body tensed. “Only dreams,” she
assured him.
“Your nightmares?”
She nodded. “They’re all gone now
anyway. Mostly.”
There was a knock at the door and
Carsha and Lark burst into the house
without further warning.
“Uncle Na-ash,” Carsha chorused in a
carefree, cheery tone. “We’re back.”
Nash drew away from Maralee,
feeling strangely weak. He blamed it on
hunger. �
��Lord and your mother? Are they
coming to join us?”
Lark shook his head. “Mom said she
was sorry, but Lord was mad and she
thought they needed a little time to talk.”
Nash nodded with understanding, a
grim expression hardening his face. “I
hope she’s better at it than I am,” he
murmured. Maralee’s hand appeared in
his and she gave it a reassuring squeeze.
He looked down at her and she smiled.
“This isn’t going to be easy, Nash,”
she said quietly.
“No, I suppose not.”
“I’m willing to work at it, if you are.”
He touched her cheek. “I guess we
don’t have a choice.”
“Not if we want the people who are
important to you to accept us.”
He smiled, delighting in the selfless
love she offered him. “What about the
people who are important to you?”
Sadness darkened her silver eyes to
cloudy gray. “I only have one person who
is important to me.”
“Who’s that?” he wanted to know. He
half expected her to name Dr. Jared Sabin,
or at the very least her aunt back in
Dubwar. Her answer warmed and chilled
him at the same time.
“You,” she whispered. “Only you.”
It was a lot of pressure to put on a
hundred-and-twelve-year-old bachelor.
CHAPTER 33
All throughout dinner, Lark watched
Maralee with fascination. She felt like a
sideshow act as she carefully used her
knife and fork to dine on her steak and
potatoes.
Carsha
and
Nash
were
attempting to eat their extremely rare
steaks in a civilized manor, but Lark was
tearing into his hunk of meat with zealous
delight, mindless to the blood that was
dripping down his chin.
“What are those things you’re eating?”
he asked her finally.
“Those are potatoed,” Carsha cut in
knowledgably. “I had some of those when
I went to the human village.” She puffed
out her chest importantly. It was rare for
her to know something that her older
brothers did not.
“Potatoed?” Lark murmured, looking
confused. “Why do you eat those?”
“I like them,” Maralee said. “I need
both vegetables and meat to stay healthy.
A l s o grains, and fruit when they’re in
season.”
“Weird,” he declared.
Nash grabbed the boy by the back of
the neck and wiped the blood off his chin
with a cloth napkin. “Don’t be contrary,
Lark.”
“Do you hunt?” Lark asked, shoving
his uncle away irritably.
Maralee went pale. “N-not anymore.”
They all seemed to realize what she
hunted in the same instant. Carsha pushed
her dinner aside. Lark gaped at her. Nash
struggled to find a safe topic.
“How are your studies coming, Lark?”
Nash asked.
The boy blinked and grimaced at his
uncle. “Borrr-ring.”
Nash laughed and tousled they boy’s
hair affectionately. “I suppose that is to be
expected. You are so much like your
father.”
Maralee dropped her fork. She
recovered quickly, mumbling an apology
as she forced herself not to choke on the
food in her mouth.
“When are you going to teach me to
read, Uncle Nash?” Carsha asked.
Nash looked at her, seeing her as a
sixteen-year-old for the first time. “I
suppose you are old enough, now,” he
murmured. “I always think of you as a
baby.”
Carsha made a face at him. “I am not a
baby!”
“You still act like one,” her brother
teased her.
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I—”
“Enough!” Nash interrupted. He shook
his head in annoyance and offered
Maralee an apologetic smile. She didn’t
seem to notice what was going on around
her. She was staring at Lark intensely.
Lark seemed to notice this as well.
He waved a hand in front of her face.
“Are you there?”
She jerked back to reality and tore her
gaze from the boy, fixating on her plate in
front of her. Nash watched her with
concern. Something was bothering her.
Something was always bothering her, but
she rarely shared her troubles with him,
even if he asked her.
He tried anyway. “Is something wrong,
Maralee?”
She shook her head, but didn’t respond
or even look at him. He sighed. It was
time to send the kids home and have a long
talk with the woman he loved. He only
hoped their tender, new love was strong
enough
to
withstand
so
many
complications
pulling
it
in
every
direction.
“Are you going to finish that?” Nash
asked Carsha, trying to hurry her along a
little.
Lark grabbed the hunk of steak off his
“I was eating that!” the girl cried,
shoving him angrily.
Nash’s patience was at its limit. “Stop
tormenting your sister, Lark. She’ll be
gone one day and then you’ll be sorry for
every mean thing you ever did to her.”
Maralee dropped her fork again. This
time she stood up from the table. “Please
excuse me,” she murmured, before turning
and leaving the cozy kitchen.
Nash, Lark and Carsha stared after her
and then looked to each other for answers.
The three shrugged in unison and finished
their meal in silence, mulling over the
strange human who had crashed into their
lives. Nash wrapped the extra food for
Rella and Lord and sent it home with the
children. He watched them from the front
porch as they made their way home. They
were bickering again before they even
reached their front steps. Nash shook his
head with a sad smile. He supposed it
couldn’t be helped. Siblings had fought
since the beginning of time and would
undoubtedly do so forever. It was only
later in life when one seemed to realize
the value of one’s sisters and brothers.
They were the only people in a person’s
life who knew exactly where you were
coming from. They came from the same
place.
Carsha slugged her brother, and then
waved at Nash before she disappeared
into the house. Lark, a sly grin spreading
across his face,
collected a handful of wet
snow from the porch railing before he
followed her inside and closed the door.
Nash shook his head again and then went
back into the house. He wasn’t sure where
Maralee had disappeared to, for she
wasn’t in the living area as he had
expected her to be. She wasn’t in the
water closet either, which meant that she
was in his bedroom. His heart began to
drum in his chest with anticipation. Maybe
they would save their talk until later. He
locked the front door, and then went to his
bedroom. He found her sitting in the far
corner of the room, her arms wrapped
around her legs, which were drawn to her
chest. She was crying soundlessly in the
darkness.
He crawled across the room and drew
her into his arms, with her back against his
chest and his arms gently cocooning her.
She was stiff and unyielding at first, as if
not deserving comfort. After a while, she
began to relax against him, eventually
clinging to his arms desperately. When he
felt that she trusted him with her heart, he
broke the silence between them.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Maralee.”
She shook her head, her fingers
clinging to him painfully.
“Why not? I thought we were going to
start being honest with each other.”
“What was your brother like?” she
asked in a small, fearful voice. “Please
tell me that he was horrible, evil man and
the world is better off without him.”
“Cort,” Nash gasped, his heart
constricting with anguish.
“Cort,” she echoed. “Tell me about
Cort. Please.”
“Why are you torturing yourself?” he
asked. “You don’t really want me to talk
about him.”
“I do,” she insisted. “What was he
like?”
“He was always full of…life,” he
murmured. There was no other way to put
it. “His smile could pull anyone from the
deepest despair. He never wasted a
moment. It was as if he knew…he knew
his life was limited. Everything was like a
game to him. He spread joy to everyone.
He held nothing back. You always knew
what was on his mind, because he told
you, directly and without hesitation. He
wasn’t afraid of anything.”
“And he was good to his wife and
children?” she asked.
Nash smiled in the darkness. “He was
the sun and Rella was the rain. Together
they made a glorious rainbow to be
admired and envied by all who knew
them. The twins and Carsha were their
perfect little flowers. They flourished