Page 11

This is not what I was expecting.

Sitting in my office at the pack meeting hall, I scroll through several messages, beginning with the moms involved and then their mates, followed by concerned friends and family. In total, over fifteen messages about Harper, ranging from informative to hysterical, and I have to pause before replying to some: As alpha, I will handle the situation. I remind them all that we will not be dramatic where a child is concerned. I fear that ship has sailed, though, given the tone of some of the messages.

Well, this confirms my suspicions about Harper having a gift, I guess.

I had second-guessed myself after seeing what I thought were sparks when she was playing in the meadow, but it was easy to rationalize with the sun overhead that day. The evidence of Harper’s magic is undeniable from the accounts I’ve read, but I’m yet to talk to Ava about it. If I’m honest, I’ve been putting off going back to the house. Confronting this means asking more questions about Harper’s father. Questions that drive my wolf crazy—even more so since we fucked. Harper’s lineage is a constant reminder that because I rejected Ava, another man had what was mine. It shouldn’t bother me, as I never had any intention of making her my luna, but it does. My wolf seethes every time the thought even arises.

And thoughts about Ava seem to be arising more and more, especially after last night. Sinking into her tight body felt like coming home. Nothing in my whole damn life had ever felt more right—until she ran off.

And now this.

My plan was to go home and fuck her again. And now, I have to deal with my pack having a problem with arguably the sweetest kid I’ve ever met. Unbelievable. The thought doesn’t diminish my desire for Ava one bit, but it frustrates the hell out of me, knowing I’m going to have to address it.

It also pisses me off that they’re making it into a big thing. The gift of magic is a good thing. I have it, my brothers do, and so do countless other wolves to one degree or another. Witches are more prevalent on the mainland, but we have enough on the island, too. I need to know who Harper’s father is so we can understand the nature of her magic. That will kill any rumors or fear-mongering in the pack.

I’m not stupid—I’ve already considered whether I could be Harper’s father, but there’s no way. Ava would have told me immediately, because that would have guaranteed her position in the pack instantly. There’s no downside to hiding it if I were. Plus, I’ve mentioned who Harper’s father might be, and although it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it, she’d never given any indication it’s me. The opposite, in fact.

So, now I have to go and talk about it. The last thing I want to do.

I walk into the house, and the scent of coffee and roasting chicken wafts through the air. Ava is in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. Her shoulders look tense even though she turns and offers me a small smile. Harper is asleep on the window seat, curled up under a quilt, breathing softly. The sight warms me, but I can’t relax. Not yet. "Hey," I say softly.

Ava’s smile fades when she sees my expression. "Hey," she says. She hesitates for a moment, returning her attention to the pot before asking, "I’m guessing you heard?"

"People like to talk," I say, walking over to her and pulling out a chair at the table. "But you tell me what happened at the park."

She nods and starts telling me her side of things, trying to keep it brief while also ensuring I understand everything that went down. It's not an easy task, but she manages it well enough while stirring whatever it is she's making for dinner.

I listen intently as she quietly explains, occasionally asking a question or two but mostly just letting her talk. She talks in a hushed tone and clearly doesn’t want to wake Harper, who seems calm now but is obviously very upset by what happened. It's clear Ava's worried about Harper, and I can understand why. Her powers are still developing, and I know myself how scary that can be. My brothers and I got into all sorts of trouble when we were young, but the difference is that our place in the pack was secure. That doesn't mean she can't learn to control her powers or be accepted.

The question I have to ask hangs heavily until I know I can’t put it off any longer.

"What do you know about Harper's father’s powers?" I ask when she finishes.

Ava shakes her head, looking back down at the pot on the stove. "Not much," she admits. "There was magic, but it wasn’t discussed with me…" She trails off, obviously not wanting to go into details. "But I know he’s powerful."

I nod, trying not to show how much that pisses me off. I make a mental note to reach out to my brothers about anyone with such powerful magic on the island. My gut tells me he’s not bothered about Ava and Harper, or he wouldn’t have let them go. He’s probably not a danger to the pack—not on purpose, anyway—but we need to be sure. Especially with the rogues who continue to stalk our borders and the intel that they’re looking for a child. A child that has to be Harper. That must be related to the fact she has the magic.

I sigh, attempting to ignore my feelings about Harper’s father. "Can I give Harper some lessons in controlling her gift tomorrow?" I ask hesitantly. Ava looks up at me, surprise all over her face, before she nods slowly.

"That might be a good idea," she says after a moment of consideration. "I don’t know how to help her, and I don’t want any children to get hurt. I just—”

Her voice cracks with emotion, and I step forward, pulling her into my arms. We stand there for a moment in an intimate embrace, something I don’t think we’ve ever done. I don’t want to dwell on the way it turns me on—not the time or place. “For what it’s worth, my take on it is that Sam overstepped, and Harper bit back. He’s a fun pup, but he’s a lot and needs to be put in his place sometimes.”

Ava sniffles against my chest, shaking her head. “But not by Harper. Those moms will turn on her now. I don’t want her to feel even a moment of the rejection I have felt.”

My heart hammers in my chest at her words, knowing that I am at the center of those feelings. Not only for my outright rejection of her that day, but my family has led this pack for generations while her family lingered as misfits on the periphery. There’s no doubt Ava’s parents were troublemakers and criminals, always causing problems. So, why was Charlie more readily accepted than Ava? I already know the answer: Charlie has a powerful wolf. He was willing and proved useful to the pack. Ava’s wolf has always been weak, and now, it appears to be nonexistent. I don’t even need to tell her what that means in terms of being accepted here.

“That won’t happen,” I say, rubbing her back, “I won’t let it. Besides, Harper is strong. Magic is a gift. If anyone knows that, it’s me. She will have a good future.”

Ava straightens slightly and steps back, her eyes glistening with tears but a steely resolve etched onto her features. “She will. But not here.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Harper stirs, and I drop it. What would I say anyway? Beg her to stay? We both know how the pack feels about her; the venom in the messages I received earlier only highlights how little has changed. But I won’t let any of that affect Harper. Ava is right; Harper shouldn’t feel a moment of rejection over who she is. And, as alpha, that is something I actually can control.

***

The next day, I wake up early and am ready long before Ava and Harper appear for breakfast. I’m not sure what Ava has told Harper since yesterday, but first, I need to gauge how well she understands her own powers. I’m still not really used to talking to small kids, but Harper is such a sweet pup that I feel like I’ve already built a tentative bond with her these last couple of weeks. So, as she eats her pancakes, I ask her about what happened at the park and how Sam, the boy, made her feel.

“Scared,” she says seriously, even though her mouth is full of pancakes. “Like before.”

Before?

I look at Ava and see her tense, the lines of stress etched on her beautiful face, and I realize she means either when they were attacked or maybe where they were living. Ava busies herself by clearing some plates away, but I can tell she’s affected by hearing Harper talk about being scared. So am I.

“Well, I hear Sam is known for being a bit silly,” I tell her, “but really, it’s because he gets carried away and can’t control himself. That happens sometimes, like with your sparks? It happens to me, too.”

I lift my hand and let the tiniest flame flicker across my fingers. Harper’s eyes go wide, and she freezes for a second, only to burst into a huge smile. “Mama, look!” she beams, obviously thrilled to see someone else with magic.

Ava turns to walk toward us as Harper raises her hand. “I can do that too!” she says, reaching out and trying to conjure the same flame. Her hand starts to glow slightly, and a few sparks flicker, but it dies out quickly. “I’m not scared,” she mumbles.

“That’s a good thing. But we can work on your magic when you’re not scared, too.” I tell her, holding my hand out for hers. “Let’s take this outside, okay? We need some fresh air.”

Harper finishes her pancakes and I help her put her coat on before heading out of the house into the meadow. Ava stays behind on the deck, and I can’t help but notice how nervous she looks as she lets me lead Harper to a safe distance from the house just in case those sparks suddenly get a lot more impressive. I can tell Ava isn’t used to trusting anyone with her daughter, so I give her an encouraging nod as we come to a stop in the middle of the meadow.

First, I show her how to control her breathing and focus on the flame. I feel a bit awkward as I stoop down to her level and try to explain things as simply as possible; it’s much harder to explain things to such a young child. After a few attempts, misunderstandings, and false starts, we seem to be getting somewhere. She tries again, and this time, the flame grows steadily under my guidance until we have a small fire going between us.

“That’s it!” I say encouragingly, “Now let’s see if we can play with it.”

Working together, we bend the flames in different directions, making shapes and figures in the air. Harper’s eyes light up with wonder as she uses her magic for the first time without fear or hesitation.

Watching her delight in something I’ve always taken for granted is intoxicating. Suddenly, she spins around toward Ava and shouts, “Mama!” The sudden action causes the contained flame to shoot upward and sends us both flying backward.

“Harper!” Ava shouts, and begins running toward us. I sit up quickly and find a startled and disheveled-looking Harper staring back at me in the tall grass. For a split second, I think she’s going to burst into tears, but instead, she starts laughing. It’s such a joyful sound that I can’t help but laugh, too.

By the time Ava reaches us, we’re both in a fit of giggles. “Are you okay?” Ava asks Harper, panting and slowing as she takes in the scene.

“That was fun,” Harper giggles, standing. I assume she’s going to run to Ava, but instead, she throws herself into my arms, nearly knocking me over, and laughs, “Do it again!”

For a moment, I’m lost for words, but then I find myself hugging her back. The feeling of her tiny body wracked with giggles warms my heart. I look up at Ava and see something unreadable in her expression. It’s there, and then it’s gone. It's as if she’s schooled her expression just for Harper, and she smiles at her daughter, masking any of the turbulent emotions beneath. Not for the first time, I’m awed by Ava’s endless ability to love Harper in the best way possible despite her own situation. She’s an amazing mother, and I’m sure no one has ever told her. I resolve to do just that, but right now, Harper is demanding more fire.

“Okay, okay, as long as it’s okay with your mom,” I laugh, looking toward Ava for confirmation. She nods, her beautiful blonde hair practically glowing in the golden early morning light. I find myself transfixed for a second and wishing that even a fraction of the capacity for love Ava has for Harper was directed my way, too.

As the morning wears on, two things become apparent. Harper’s gift is far more impressive than I could have imagined, and so is her mother.