Moon Child (The Year of the Wolf #2) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,116
bar and—”
“We’ll be the first cross-species couple to produce a child,” he told me, rocking my world before he distracted me by cupping my butt, jiggling my ass, which tested the knot that was burrowed into my flesh, and murmuring, “Perfection.”
A sigh escaped me, because what the hell did it matter if we were the first or the last? All that mattered was this. And I whispered again, “I was such a dumbass.”
“At least you learned your lesson,” he said dryly.
I hummed in agreement. “At least I did that.”
Eli
“I think we’re owed an explanation.”
I scowled at Maggie May, wondering why she had to be such a pain in my ass, even though I loved that about her. She’d never let me get away with shit, but damn, sometimes, she asked for too much.
Not because I didn’t want to give my people an explanation, but because I didn’t necessarily have one.
Shoving my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, I eyed my pack, ignoring Maggie May, and taking them all in.
It was the first time we’d gathered since the hyena attack. The first time since I’d seen them all standing, looking like nothing had happened, even if, deep in their minds, I knew they were feeling the pinch.
We’d gone through a battle, and some of us were made for that, but a lot of us weren’t. Even if someone was beta-type, that didn’t mean they were okay with killing or being killed, so I knew the shifty looks and the way most of the pack were staring down at their feet was for a reason. These people worked in factories, had farms, lived behind computers and desks… They weren’t soldiers.
If wolves could have PTSD, some of them had it, and I knew that was yet another burden that was going to land on my mate’s door.
As omega, she’d be able to help, but I’d admit to feeling scared. One day, she’d wake up and figure out that this was just too damn much, and I couldn’t blame her.
It was.
Some days, it just was.
“Eli?”
Her voice was soft, soothing. Calm. I pulled one of my hands from my pockets and reached for her. She slipped her fingers into mine, her grip gentle, as silken as her voice, and she nuzzled into me, shoring me up as she murmured, “They just want an explanation.”
The trouble was, that was easier said than done.
The aggression we’d faced was something that I didn’t think any pack had seen since pioneer times. We lived in harmony, only fighting in one-on-one challenges. And we never, ever, had cross-species battles.
What we’d gone through had been unprecedented. How could I talk about that in any way that made sense?
Still, I was alpha, so I cleared my throat and tried to do my best. “Sabina’s family is a little unusual,” I started, then winced because that sounded like I was trying to blame her, when I wasn’t.
“Don’t worry, my love. All is well,” she whispered into my mind, and though the words were reassuring, they were also difficult to accept.
We were all a little traumatized by what had gone down. By the sheer stupidity of it.
When I found it hard to continue, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to give my people an explanation they deserved, I wasn’t altogether surprised when Sabina took over, stating, “My family is Roma. Gypsy to some. But one of the main reasons why I’m a strong omega is because of my roots.
“Each of my siblings had power. My brother was a wolf child too, and he was alpha-type, capable of things we don’t need to discuss.” Her smile was tight, and it made sense that she didn’t feel like getting into the fact that her brother had the power to force her transformation, a talent that was something only a leader of a pack should be capable of doing. “Lara has always been able to read people’s emotions, and Jana? She could get glimpses of the future from time to time.”
“Where is Lara?” That was Elsa. I scowled at her, because she should know not to stir gossip at a pack meeting when she could easily have asked us around the house. There had to be some perks to working for the alpha.
“I don’t know. She’s with her new mate,” Sabina explained calmly, and her answer lit up a whole flurry of interest which, thankfully, took some of the doom and gloom away from the meeting.