25

Petra sat beside Sara on the bed and melted at the sight of the one-week-old little bundle wrapped in a soft yellow blanket, sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms. His lips kept pressing out into a cute little pout, as if he were dreaming about his first blood. “He’s so beautiful.”

“I think so too, but I may be partial.” Sara looked up and smiled at her. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too.”

“I’ve been worried about you. I haven’t heard from you in a few days, and after everything that went down at the gathering stones . . .”

Ah, yes. The gathering stones, Petra mused. And the apartment, and the River House, the tree house, and the caves. She’d been through much in the past few months. Revelations and disappointments. Hopes and fleeting happiness. But now it was time to take things slow and easy. Stop moving and build a life in one place for herself and her balas.

“I’m good,” Petra insisted, reaching out to touch the baby’s soft head. She couldn’t wait to experience this. Holding her sweet child in her arms. Such perfection. Such intimacy.

“Well,” Sara said, her eyes warm. “You’ll forgive me if I have to come by and see that for myself.”

“You’d better come by. Have Alex flash you and baby over. It’s so beautiful in the Rain Forest now. So green and wet. We’d love to have you stay.”

Sara raised one dark eyebrow. “We? So, does that mean you and balas? Or is Brodan in the picture?”

A sigh escaped Petra’s lungs without her consent. “Let’s just say Brodan is going to be a kick-ass uncle.”

Over the past week, the bear shifter had been around to see her at her parents’ house several times. He’d been his usual incredible self. Kind, caring, generous. And the list could go on and on. But the one thing he wasn’t was the one thing Petra wanted more than anything.

Synjon.

“I’m going to make a family for myself,” she told Sara, but truly the words were also for herself. She had to keep telling herself that, reminding herself that she would get through this, and that everything would be fine.

“You told Brodan how you feel?” Sara asked gently.

Petra nodded. “I would never even try to care for a male when I am not yet remotely over the one who broke my heart.”

Sara exhaled heavily and nodded. “Have you heard from him?”

Petra shook her head. After what had happened at the gathering stones, what he’d done, sacrificed—what she’d experienced at the hands of her father—she’d thought she might. Hell, she’d hoped he would try to contact her, come to the Rain Forest to see her. After all, they’d both made mistakes and bad judgments and choices that were unfortunate and filled with regrets. But clearly he was done. Maybe those emotions that Cruen had forced back into his mind had tamped down any feelings he’d had for her and the balas. After all, the loss of Juliet had been among them.

“You know he had the chance to kill Cruen and he didn’t.”

Lost in thought for a moment, Petra startled. “I know.”

“He’s looking into doing undercover spy stuff again. Maybe a private firm. Maybe his own.”

“That’s good.”

“And I hear there are no more parties going on.”

Petra couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Mr. Respectability now, huh?”

Sara shrugged. “Well, let’s not go overboard.” She grinned. “He’ll always be a bit of a scoundrel, not unlike my Alexander or the rest of the Romans, but what fun would it be if they weren’t?” She leaned down and kissed her balas. The little boy stretched his arms over his head and yawned, causing both females to laugh softly.

“Can’t believe I got the most perfect present for Christmas,” Sara said.

“He is that,” Petra agreed.

“My little Santa baby. And you’re what . . . ? Valentine’s Day Cupid?”

Petra laughed. “I like that.”

Sara’s smile widened. “So close in age—our kids will grow up together.” Then she blushed and amended her words. “Or could. If you wanted that . . .”

“I do,” Petra said quickly. “I want that.”

Sara’s smile broadened, and she reached for Petra’s hand and squeezed it lightly.

Just then, Alex stuck his head in the door and called, “Hey, Petra. Dani’s here.”

“Ah. My ride.”

She stood up just as Alex walked in and over to Sara. He touched his balas on the cheek, then leaned in to kiss his mate on the mouth. “How’s the most beautiful mother in the world?”

“Happy,” she whispered before he kissed her again.

Petra just stood there and watched, like an idiot, like a voyeur. Like a veana who had no deeper wish than to have what her sister and Alex had. But that couldn’t be her goal now. Maybe someday. Someday when she was settled.

“’Night, all,” Petra said as she headed for the door.

“Come again soon, okay?” Sara called after her. “Samuel wants to hang out with his auntie.”

“I promise.”

As she headed down the stairs and into the foyer, Petra heard the lively sounds of laughter and banter. It was nice. Warm. Homey. The family all together. She’d hung out with them a bit earlier, talked, discussed the holidays. But now it was time to get back to her family. One of whom was waiting in the back garden.

Pacing the grounds in her hawk form, wings spread and ready, Dani cocked her head when she spotted Petra. “Ready to go home, bestie?”

“Always, bestie.” She climbed onto the hawk’s back and wrapped her arms around Dani’s neck. After a quick, affectionate squeeze, the shifter took off and sailed into the night sky.

* * *

The cell he occupied was dark, dank, and cut off from everything and everyone.

Synjon Wise had insisted on it, the Romans and several of the Order members had also, and Feeyan had relented.

Cruen sneered.

That veana’s weakness was growing more and more apparent.

Standing before the bars of his cage, Cruen waited for his next blood meal to be delivered. It was nearly time. His fangs were descending even now in anticipation. Granted, the guards never came into his cage to give it to him. Strict instructions from the Order. But someday he would manage to get one of them alone. It was all he would need.

That and his unflinching desire to take back what should never have been given away. Given to her.

Feeyan spoke of shame on the Eternal Breed. She was the true shame. A poor man’s Cruen. A dull, fearful substitute who acted only when she needed to convince others she was powerful. No. A true leader of the Order acted selfishly. Without second-guessing. Without fear or pity.

Cruen sniffed the air. Yes, his blood was on the way. Perhaps this was the guard, this was the night. Or perhaps he would have to wait until tomorrow.

It was no matter. Someday soon he would be flashing free once again. Someday soon—not only would he be back on the Order, but he would be ruling it.

* * *

Without Petra and the balas in his life, Syn knew misery times ten. No amount of work or money made up for the loss of them, and he couldn’t wait another minute to beg for their return. But he knew he couldn’t go straight to her, knew she would no doubt reject him outright.

So he had to go to the one being on earth she trusted above all others. Unfortunately, that being believed him to be the biggest knobhead prat in the world.

The shifters inside the cantina followed him as he walked toward the hawk female. She was sitting at a table by herself, having something that looked like a beer, frothy head and all. Her nose came up the second he was within scent range.

She shook her head, grinned wickedly. “You have some serious balls.”

He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “I need your help.”

“Iron balls,” she amended.

“Bloody right,” he agreed, feeling many sets of eyes at his back. “I love her.”

She gave him the death stare. “You don’t deserve her, bloodsucker.”

“True.”

His agreeing with her seemed to irritate her more. “I don’t have time for this. I have a date with my drink here.” Her head went down and she pretended to ignore him.

No problem, love. I’ve got all night. Shite, I’ve got forever, if that’s what it takes.

“Have you ever loved someone, Dani?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she took a gigantic swallow of her beer, or whatever it was.

“Have you ever loved someone so much that the thought of them being gone from your life forever fills you with so much pain you can’t even breathe?”

Again, she didn’t look at him, but her head tilted to one side like she was trying really hard not to go there with him. “I know what happened to that female of yours who was killed—”

“No. I don’t mean Juliet.”

This time the hawk shifter’s head did come up, and her eyes connected with his. Around them, the sounds of laughter and chatter and glasses being filled seemed to mute.

“I loved her,” Syn said, his gut going tight. “Juliet. I loved her very much. And I thought avenging her death would help me get rid of some of the guilt I felt. But I’m talking about Petra now. And the balas.”

“Ah, shit,” Dani muttered softly.

“I wanted to give up, give in to sadness and death over Juliet,” he continued. “But I want to live for Petra and my balas. I want to be a better paven. I care for nothing else but them.”

Dani’s sharp eyes bored into his skull, assessing him, reading him. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“You shouldn’t.” He pushed his chair back and stood up, held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She sniffed, glared at his waiting hand. “Where?”

“My place.”

Her lip curled. “No, thanks. I’ve been there before, remember?”

“Do you mean, do I remember what a gigantic bastard I was to you? An unfeeling, uncaring bastard who wished he could block out everything and focus on the unending torture of the male who he believed had ended his life?”

Her mouth twisted. “Yeah, that.”

He grinned. “I apologize, Dani. I wasn’t myself.”

She may have grinned back. It was hard to tell with the hawk female. What she did do was stand up.

“You going to flash me?” she asked.

He gestured for her to come with him. “It won’t hurt a bit, shifter.”

She sighed and followed him to the door. “This had better be good.”

“Not good,” Syn said. “Just real and honest and true. For the first time in my life.”

Загрузка...