“Yes, but that is all about to change now that Salvatore has destroyed the demon lord,” he pointed out, referring to the King of Weres’ recent battle with the demon who’d been draining them of their powers for centuries. “Already our strength is returning. Even those ancient powers that have been nearly forgotten.” His lips twisted into a rueful grin. “Dangerous powers.”
“I suppose you’re referring to Salvatore discovering that Harley is his true mate?”
He nodded. “As I said ... dangerous.”
Sophia had to agree with him.
True matings between Weres had become nothing more than a distant legend until Salvatore’s shocking bond with Harley. Now there were rumors of more and more purebloods becoming mated.
What would it feel like to know she was irrevocably tied to a mate?
That never again would she desire another in her bed?
She told herself that it was a horrifying thought.
And she almost believed it.
“Salvatore seems disgustingly pleased with himself, and I have to admit Harley is content.”
His fingers traced the line of her jaw. “But you’re still haunted by our past?”
Haunted?
It sounded dramatic, but Sophia couldn’t deny it captured the memories that refused to leave her in peace.
“I was one of less than a dozen females capable of becoming pregnant,” she abruptly admitted.
He stilled. “A breeder.”
“Nice,” she muttered, oddly offended by the term used for those rare fertile females.
“Sorry.” He grimaced. “I never considered the burden you must have carried.”
It had been more than a burden. Without their usual powers, the Were females had not only become increasingly infertile, but they’d lost the ability to control their shifts during their pregnancies.
It had nearly been the end of purebloods.
“When a race is trying to survive, we must all do our part,” she said, doing her best to keep the lingering pain hidden.
Typically, Luc wasn’t fooled.
“And we all must bear the scars,” he said softly, something in his voice suggesting that he had a few unwelcome memories of his own.
“Yes.”
He studied her in silence, his fingers continuing to wreak havoc with her senses as they stroked along her cheek and then tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear.
“How many children did you lose?”
She flinched at the low question. “Hundreds.”
“Oh ... cara.”
Her eyes lowered, unable to bear the sympathy gleaming in the dark eyes.
“I swore I was done when Salvatore convinced me to try one more time.” Her gut knotted. She wanted to forget those days of being nothing more than a breeding machine, expected to try and carry a litter year after endless year. “He wanted to alter the DNA of my babies so they couldn’t shift and would be more likely to carry a child to full-term.”
“And spare them the pain you endured.”