8. Unwelcome Visitors

8

Unwelcome Visitors

TEN MONTHS LATER ~ ANNALISE

T he lake’s surface rippled beneath the soft March breeze that blew from the direction of the Alpha’s Den, carrying a scent I didn’t know. No, two scents.

“Rebin, I smell someone coming,” I called out across the water. I wasn’t sure if he could hear me from where he sat fishing for trout on the far side, but I felt a reassuring pulse of warmth in the bond, and knew he was on his way. No one in the pack would interrupt our day here; the Alpha had more or less given us this small lake, along with our cabin, and warned everyone to let us have the peace we deserved after the past several months.

After our girls were born, the pack had descended on us, desperately curious to see the “three miracles” as they were called. They really were miracles, in more than one way. Not only were they the first triplets born on the continent in at least two centuries, they’d shared a sac in the womb.

They should have been identical, but each girl had come out with a different color hair and eyes. Cora had brown eyes like mine, but her father’s lustrous dark hair, Bea had brilliant green eyes and reddish curls since birth, and Seren had pure black hair and eyes such a pale blue that they shone silver at night.

After the two young midwives who’d attended the birth both became pregnant mere weeks afterward, it seemed like every female in the Mountain pack had found some reason to stop by and visit, hoping for hints, or for some of my “fertility magic” to rub off.

I hadn’t minded; I knew what it was to believe you’d never have a pup. I knew how desperation and despair could walk hand in hand for years, until hope shone like a waning crescent moon in the distant sky. But I had my own pups to care for, and my own mate to love, and most of the latest visits had been mere curiosity. Plenty of other pups were coming, now that the old ways had been restored.

I sniffed the air again, feeling Rebin move closer, but staying on my guard, nonetheless. Cautiously, I reached down to the wide basket on the ground and tucked the blanket Grandma Ida had hand-quilted for our girls around their sleeping shoulders, just as two unfamiliar shifters stepped out from under the shade of the nearby pines.

They were in human form, wearing casual clothing and carrying cloth bags. The male was about my age from the look of him, with salt-and-pepper hair and beard, and narrow shoulders. He wore a stern expression, but had no air of dominance.

The female looked a little younger, with dark hair and pale blue eyes. Something about the pair had my wolf growling quietly, though they didn’t seem aggressive as they approached.

I held a hand up to stop them, and said quietly, “Are you lost? The pack lake is a mile to the east, stocked with rainbow trout as well as brown. You’ll be welcome there.”

“That’s what we thought,” the man mumbled. “The new Alpha’s the one who sent us out here. Wouldn’t take my vow.”

The woman reached up like she was going to stroke his hair, but ended up twisting his ear. “Don’t ruin this. I will send you back alone.”

They exchanged a flurry of whispers, mostly the man apologizing. Finally, he stepped back, and the woman cleared her throat. “We came when we heard about the new Alpha,” she said, setting her bag down.

I blinked. “This many months later?”

“We live up north. We don’t have much contact with the rest of the pack. We felt the old Alpha’s connection break, and planned to come down earlier, but the snows came early. We couldn’t get down from our cabin until now.” Her gaze flitted to the basket when one of the girls cooed in her sleep. She took what seemed to be an unconscious step forward, but her mate grabbed her arm.

“We’re looking for our son. The Alpha said we needed to talk to him before we could pledge and start back home.”

“That place isn’t home,” the woman muttered. “It never was.”

The man sighed, and I got the impression this was an old argument. “Alpha told us our boy had settled here. Found a mate,” he said clearly, though his voice trembled. Was he afraid? I sniffed the air. No, the scent was of deep emotion. It was grief.

I could feel Rebin moving closer, fast, and something like heartache echoed in our bond. I swallowed, knowing who these two were.

“You’re Rebin’s parents,” I said quietly. The man nodded.

“We are. Are you… Wait. You can’t be Annalise Booker?” the woman asked, stepping closer.

Too close. I crouched in front of the basket, my stance a warning, and let my teeth sharpen the tiniest bit. Rebin had been teaching me how to shift quicker than ever before, drawing on the power that flowed freely between us now.

The woman stopped. “I’m Myrna Stone. I met you when I was a girl, before the war. My mother was a pack seamstress; she made a beautiful white dress for you. I remember you coming to our home to pick it up with another girl.”

I relaxed slightly. “That was my best friend. She was killed at the Conclave battle, forty years ago. And I’m Annalise Stone. Myrna, Piers, it’s good to meet you at last.”

“Is it?” A warm arm circled my shoulders as Rebin reached me. I could feel him holding back a deluge of hard words, could sense his wolf’s disapproval of these two.

He’d told me that he’d had to choose a family to be born into quickly, and with the drop in fertility, he’d had precious few options in the Mountain pack. Still, he’d been hurt by how he felt they’d abandoned him when he couldn’t shift.

Piers tried to meet his son’s gaze, but couldn’t. Instead, he stared at me. No, at the silver in my hair. “You’re my age,” he blurted out. “You must be twice Rebby’s?—”

Rebin’s deep growl was filled with dominance, and his parents both staggered under its weight. “She is perfect. She is my mate, and the mother of my pups, and if you say one word that causes her pain, it will be your last.”

“P-pups?” His father stammered. “At her ag—” His mother made a noise that might have been her wolf, whimpering.

“You should go,” Rebin said, putting a tiny push in the suggestion. The whimper became a keening wail.

“Reb,” I sighed. These two couldn’t hurt me. But they had hurt him, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

I’d told myself if I ever met them, I would lay into them, make sure they knew just how badly they’d failed as parents. Force them to apologize for not seeing my mate’s worth, even if he hadn’t been able to shift.

But this woman’s eyes as she stared at me were already filled with tears. Her voice was a needy rasp when she spoke, her mate’s arm on hers all that kept her from falling to her knees. “You’re the one he cried for, aren’t you? The girl in the moonlight dress. The one he was always looking for. I thought he’d cry himself sick some nights when he was just a baby. Once he could walk, he ran away, day after day, until we had to lock him in his room. He was looking for you.” Her lip trembled. “Thank the Moon Goddess he found you at last.”

Then she collapsed on the ground.