Moon Child (The Year of the Wolf #2) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,60
her, but nothing as overwhelming as this.
I could read a file on her, encyclopedias about her past, minute details that covered her days from when she was small to when she met her high school sweetheart, Kian. I’d read it all and never get bored, not even with the tedious details of what she ate for breakfast when she was eight years old. My fascination for her was infinite.
I knew what it was to be mated. I’d been living that since she walked into our lives. But it was the first occurrence of my being jealous of any time she’d had without us in it. It was stupid and irrational, and a waste of fucking energy, but that was how I felt.
Stupid, irrational, and everything else.
“You really think he pimped her out? Wouldn’t he make her abort the child if that was true?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. He was very religious. Incredibly Catholic.”
I snorted. “Catholic enough that he felt nothing in selling out his wife?”
“There’s a difference between that and murder.”
“I thought you said his game was the bare-knuckle boxing fights?”
“Yeah, and some were to the death. I’m not saying it’s logical or rational. I’m just saying there’s something different about Lara than with Cyrilo and me.”
That had me shaking my head. “I thought auras changed colors.”
“They do. But at their core, there’s a light about every person.” A small smile curved her lips. “Do you know, I’ve never talked about this with anyone before? Not even my mom? Or Lara?”
I squeezed her arm. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“I know it is. I never doubted that. I just… It’s hard to explain, I guess.” When she fell silent, I let her, and she was silent for so long that I figured she wasn’t going to say another word, which I’d admit to being disappointed about.
I guessed I’d liked the idea of her sharing something that was for me and me alone.
Egotistical for sure, which made me feel bad because we all shared her, and Eli and Ethan never seemed to get mad about that.
What was it with me?
Why did I find things so hard, when they found them to be so easy?
Knight—I struggled with. I struggled with being a dad. Questioning everything I did or didn’t do. But Saint Eli and Ethan just found it easy. They held him and didn’t seem to worry if they were going to drop him, and I’d seen them change diapers. Even the great Highbanks alpha could change one without barely batting an eye.
Whereas for me, I wanted to puke.
Every single time.
The little dude was three months old, surely my gag reflex should be over it by now?
“You overthink things, mate,” Sabina whispered into my mind. “You’re no better nor any worse than Eli or Ethan, or even me. You think when Knight pukes on me, I dance with glee? Of course not. I think you just need to change more diapers. You’d probably get over it faster if you did.”
My lips curved at that. “Immersion therapy, huh? I’m glad you’re not my shrink.”
Her eyes twinkled in the deepening shadows. “I’d make a very fine shrink, I’d have you know.”
“I’m sure you would, but you already see too much into me. I don’t need you psychoanalyzing everything too.”
She snorted, but her hand moved over to me and she reached for my fingers, tangling hers in them as she explained, “Everyone has an aura. It’s tangible to me. I can reach out and feel it.”
“Even mine?”
“Even yours.”
“What color’s mine?”
“Orange.”
My nose crinkled. “That’s a girl’s color.”
“You do know it’s 2020, don’t you? Not 1920?”
“I hate orange.”
“Well, that’s funny because that’s you. Light and loving, charming and irreverent, capable of depth and of being grounded. You’re solid, you have roots, and I see that every time I look at you. That’s your energy. That’s you.”
“And what you say is black is what Cyrilo and your energy is?”
“Exactly. But all around that base color, there’s a rainbow, I guess. Sometimes, one color is darker than another, and that’s what I use to judge someone.”
“What’s the predominant color around me now?”
“Dark blue. You’re concerned about me, but calm. Nothing I’m saying is angering you, you’re just trying to figure out what I’m talking about.”
I thought about that, but had to reason she wasn’t wrong. “That’s pretty much how I feel. I just want to help you understand so that you feel better.”
Her smile warmed my heart. “That’s what makes you such a good dad, Austin. You might not be great