Defying Destiny (40 page)

I’m not half-Wolf, both my mother and my

father were Wolves.” His heart was

drumming within his chest. He didn’t

know why he felt such an extreme amount

of upset when he knew the sage was

mistaken about the sign of the crescent

moon. He fingered the lock of white hair

draped across his left eye. “It’s just a

mistake.”

“What’s

a

mistake?”

Maralee

murmured. She wandered from the hall,

looking sleepy and utterly beautiful, but

even her shapely, nude body did not

distract Nash from his irritated musings.

“This book,” Nash growled, shoving it

aside, not sure why he felt such anger

towards an inanimate object.

Maralee paled. “You haven’t been

reading that, have you?”

“I have, but I don’t think this sage

knows what the hell he’s talking about.”

“I agree,” Maralee said eagerly. “We

should just burn the thing and be done with

it.”

Nash gave her an odd look as she

came closer. “I didn’t say that it was
all

garbage,” he said, putting his hand on the

book to protect it from Maralee’s

unexpected desire to destroy it. “Just some

of it.”

“What part?” She was trembling and

pale, staring at the book with a mixture of

trepidation and revulsion.

“The part about…” he trailed off. “I’ll

just go and talk to my mother. She can

prove that the sage is wrong about the

symbol of the crescent moon. Right?”

Maralee stared at him wordlessly. She

looked about ready to collapse.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he told

her, standing up to give her a gentle hug.

“It’s not like the world’s going to end or

anything.”

“Mine will,” she murmured, hugging

him tightly. “Please, let him be wrong.”

“He is wrong, but would you really

care if I were half-Wolf?” He thought she

was over her bigotry.

“Half-Wolf?” she questioned, looking

up at him. “Is that what you were reading

about?”

He nodded. “Stupid, isn’t it?” he

claimed, though his pulse was still racing

out of control. How could such simple

words fill him with such dread?

She nodded in agreement, looking

relieved. He kissed her and she melted

against him.

“You fell asleep when I was trying to

excite

you

into

a

delirium,”

he

commented, running his hands over her

bare back and shoulders, urging her

closer.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I really

was enjoying it. I was just really, really

tired and you were going sooooo slowly.”

“We’ll see if you can stay awake next

time,” he murmured.

“How about right now?” she purred

huskily.

Tempting as she was, he had to figure

something out before he could relax.

“Later,” he promised. “I’m going to go

talk to my mother, would you mind fixing

us both something to eat?”

She smiled. “No problem,” she

agreed. “Take your time.” She seemed

suddenly anxious for him to be leaving the

cabin. He was accustomed to her

mannerisms enough to notice irregularities

in her behavior.

He glanced at the vulnerable book on

his desk.

“You’re not thinking of burning that

book while I’m gone are you?”

She paled again and pushed him away.

“N-no, of course not. Why would I burn an

irreplaceable book?”

“I don’t know. You seemed eager to

burn it a moment ago.”

She shrugged and headed for the

kitchen, picking up her discarded pants in

the doorway. “I’ll see you in a little

while. I’ll have something for you to eat.”

He followed her into the kitchen and

caught her around the waist, drawing her

back up against his chest.

“Maralee, promise me that you won’t

burn the book while I’m gone,” he urged.

When she didn’t say anything, he

realized that he had discovered her

intention.

“Promise me, Maralee. I’d like to

think that I can trust you, but if not, I’ll just

take it with me.”

She stiffened and then pulled out of his

grasp. “I won’t burn the stupid book,” she

said angrily. “Seriously, I don’t see why

it’s so important to you any way. You said

yourself that there is false information in

there.”

“So you won’t burn it then?”

She turned to glare at him. “I promise

that I will not burn the book,” she spat at

him. “Surely you trust me enough to

believe that I will keep my word.”

He smiled at her gently. “I love you,”

he told her, and she paled again, “and

because I love you, I trust you

completely.”

“I love you too,” she murmured and

fled, still naked, into the cold room.

Nash glanced at the book as he put on

his long leather coat by the door. If she

betrayed his trust, then its invaluable

contents would be lost forever. Perhaps he

should take it with him, just in case her

impulsiveness got the better of her.

“No,” he said to himself. “I trust her.

She won’t burn it if she promised not to.”

He left the book sitting there on his

desk, and departed from the house in

search of the comfort his mother’s words

were sure to bring.

Normally, Nash would have walked into

his mother’s home without a second

thought. He had grown up in this house

after all. He, Cort and their parents shared

innumerable memories in these sturdy

walls, but he hadn’t spoken to his mother

since he’d convinced her to spare

Maralee’s life. He wasn’t sure if she’d

even be willing to talk to him at this point.

He lifted his hand and knocked, stepping

back to wait for her answer. A sudden

urge to light a cigarette drew his hand into

his pocket, but knew that she wouldn’t

appreciate him smoking inside her house.

Stacia opened the door slowly. She

looked terrible. There were dark shadows

beneath her empty amber eyes. Pale and

gaunt, he wondered if she’d eaten or slept

in days.

“Mother, are you ill?” he asked

anxiously.

He was flabbergasted when she burst

into tears and wrapped him in her arms.

“I thought I’d lost you, too,” she

sobbed against his chest.

He touched her hair, his heart panging

unpleasantly. He seemed to have a knack

for making women cry these days.

“Didn’t Rella tell you that I came back

from Sarbough?” he asked, confused as to

why she thought he’d been killed.

“That’s not what I meant,” she

murmured. She stiffened and turned her

back on him, wiping at her tears

impatiently as she went back into her

house and left it up to Nash to follow her

inside.

“Then what?” he asked, stepping into

the house and closing the door behind him.

“You chose a woman over your

family,” she clarified, her moment of

weakness completely gone. “Why are you

here now? What do you want?”

He couldn’t very well admit that he’d

come to ask something of her after that

greeting.

“I just came by to see how you are,”

he said. He noticed the chill in the house

even though he still had his coat on. “It’s

cold in here. Why haven’t you lit a fire?”

“Because my devoted, wood-cutting,

eldest son was killed by your human

friend
.”

Stacia’s talent was her ability to cut

any member of their pack to the quick with

her icy words. Her youngest son was no

exception. Nash stared at her wordlessly

for a moment. Anyone would have gladly

chopped wood for her if she’d asked. He

got the feeling she had been waiting for

this moment so she could wound him in

the cruelest way possible.

“You should have told me,” he

murmured. “I’ll go cut some wood for

you.”

He walked through the house and out

the back door into the small yard where

the chopping block stood. He removed his

coat and lit a cigarette before taking up the

ax and splitting the pile of large logs into

usable pieces. He smoked while he

chopped and found the mix of nicotine and

vigorous, violent activity were a great

outlet for his stress. The methodical

thwunk of the ax striking the wood was

calming as well. After he’d produced a

mountain of split logs, he stacked them

neatly against the back of the house. He

then lit another cigarette and sat down on

the chopping block, slightly winded from

his exertions.

He could almost see his brother

standing there, ax in hand, grinning as he

talked to his little brother while he

chopped wood. How many times had they

interacted that way? A hundred times?

More? Nash tossed his cigarette onto the

soggy ground and rubbed his face with

both hands. As unreal as it seemed, Cort

was gone. Nothing would ever bring him

back.

“Come in and have something to eat,”

Stacia said from the open back door.

“Maralee is waiting for me,” he said,

standing up from the chopping block and

reaching for his discarded coat.

“You can’t even take a minute to talk

to your own mother?”

He realized she was trying to make

him feel guilty for ignoring her, but it was

an effectual tactic.

“I suppose I can stay for a while,” he

agreed. “She knows where I am if she

needs me.”

Stacia smiled warmly at him. “Bring

some wood as you come in,” she said and

disappeared back into the house.

He collected a pile of split logs in his

arms and carried them into the house,

arranging them in the wood box by the

fireplace. He lit a fire, carefully tending it

because the split logs were still a bit wet.

“That’s better,” Stacia murmured,

removing her shawl as warmth spread

through the room. “Come, son. Let’s eat.”

The large, main room of the house was

divided into the living area and the dining

area, both of which were warmed by the

cheery fire in the grate. A meal was

already sitting on the dinner table waiting

for them. Nash climbed to his feet and sat

down at the table.

“Is

that

mutton?”

he

asked

incredulously. He wondered which of his

pack had dared to raid a shepherd’s flock.

He remembered a time in his youth when

he’d been skewered with a pitchfork for

such bad behavior. Cort had been the one

to drag both him and his hard won ewe

home.

Stacia smiled. “I thought you might

appreciate a treat.”

“You’re spoiling me,” he said, not

hesitating in biting into the rare meat. With

Maralee out of sight, he allowed his

instinct to devour to take over him. He

was soon licking the bare bone zealously.

Stacia

grinned

at

his

obvious

enjoyment. “How was it?” she asked,

taking delicate nibbles of her own meat.

“Delicious,” he growled.

Stacia watched him for a moment and

then said, “I thought you’d do the right

thing by Rella at least.”

Nash’s eyes widened. “What?”

“If Rella finds a new mate, we’ll lose

those babies.”

“What are you talking about? Rella

would never prevent us from seeing the

twins or Carsha,” Nash said, knowing it

was his mother’s fear of being left alone

that made her so irrational.

“I thought if you took Rella as your

mate, there’d be no risk of that,” Stacia

said. “There’s been a Wolf from another

pack asking about her. She’s considering

leaving our pack for another.”

“What? Why hasn’t anyone told me of

this before now?”

“You are so preoccupied with that

human it makes little difference what

anyone tells you.”

“That’s not fair, Mother.” He thought

about the implications of Rella leaving

their pack and taking the children with her.

For one thing, the small family would lose