Defying Destiny (36 page)

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.

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

sister’s plate and tore a bite out of it.

“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