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The only one not strangled by fear: Jessamine. My sister.
I lift my head.
She comes closer, holding out a cloth. “But her daughter escaped.”
I take the cloth from her, with half a mind to just throw it into the fireplace and be done with it. But then the texture catches my attention. The cloth is soaked in blood.
Jessamine lowers herself to the floor at my side, her head bowed.
Unusual behavior for my unruly, headstrong sister.
My curiosity is officially piqued.
“Leave us,” I say to the others.
They rush to the door, closing it quickly in their wake.
“Speak, sister.” I sit back on my heels and consider her.
We were raised as pups together. She’s ten months younger than me—a sign that my father wasted no time after my mother died. Maybe loneliness drove him to it, or his inner wolf’s nature. Either way. Had I been old enough to understand it, I may not have forgiven him for it.
But I needed him. And it was hard to harbor hate when he could pry into my mind.
As such, she’s one of the only people I truly care about.
Another lesson instilled by my father: trust only your family. And even then, know that their intentions may not always align with yours.
Well—that turned out to be good advice. He was alpha of our pack. When I came of age, I had a choice: continue to bow my head or challenge him. I resisted for as long as I could, until old age slowed him down and my wolf couldn’t bear bowing any longer.
Sometimes I wonder if Jessamine will betray me in equal measure.
“I’m pregnant,” she says softly.
My mind screeches to a halt. All thoughts cease to exist—except one.
Pregnant.
The unbeatable death sentence for female wolf shifters.
I take her hands. Her mate is one of my only other friends, if I can go so far as to call him that. Roman is loud, boisterous, charming. He won her heart easily, set by fate, and the whole pack celebrated for weeks at their union.
True mate bonds are rare. Rarer still for them to come from within the same pack.
Still. She’s pregnant?
“I thought you were taking precautions.” My chest is tight.
Her fingers grip mine, and a tear slips down her cheek. “We were… until we decided to stop.”
I must be squeezing too tight—but she doesn’t remove her hands from mine.
My wolf is restless, woken up by the news. He whines low in his chest, but I contain the sound to our mind. The thing that I’ve been striving to change appears before me, but now with a ticking clock hanging over it.
“I will fight this,” I vow. “Damn it, Jessamine. Is a pup more important than your life?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t explain it. I can’t begin to describe how empty our home was beginning to feel. And the pups that we helped raise last year… It just worsened the ache.”
Fuck.
