Allegiance of Honor (47 page)

“But,” Walker said as they watched their children dance, “whatever happens, I can’t see them ever drifting totally apart.” Their relationship was too strong, too rooted, and for all his childish antics, Ben was oddly astute. As if he saw people for exactly who they were.

A boy like that would grow up into an extraordinary man.

Ava sighed. “She’s still going to break my poor boy’s heart in a few years. No girl of fourteen is ever interested in a boy of ten.”

Wrapping his arm gently around Ava’s shoulders, Walker held her to his side with the affectionate skin privileges that had developed between them over the time Walker had been mated to Lara. The two women were best friends, Ava in and out of their home, as Lara was Ava’s. Walker also liked Ava’s mate, Spencer, a great deal and they often had dinner with the other couple, while Marlee loved spending time with both Ben and his baby sister, Elodie.

The toddler was currently laughing uproariously with Naya Hunter, both of them seated on an outdoor play mat.

Their baby laughter was making several nearby adults grin. Walker couldn’t resist his smile, either. “I don’t think a small thing like a broken heart would stop Ben from pursuing Marlee as soon as he’s old enough,” he said.

Ava chuckled. “You’re right. My boy has stubborn determination down to an art.” Rising on tiptoe, arm around his back, she tried to look out over the dancers. “Where’s Lara?”

“Chatting with Tamsyn about the pupcubs.”

Looking over to where the two healers stood, Walker saw them move apart after a quick hug. Lara turned to head toward him at the same instant that Ava said, “There’s my sweetheart. I’m going to haul him into a dance before he gets too caught up in photographing the event.”

Walker let Ava slip away and moved to meet his mate halfway. She’d tamed the corkscrew curls of her black hair into a fancy twist tonight and the red glints within shimmered when she passed under a cascade of tiny lights, but nothing shimmered as bright as her smile when she met his gaze. Her dress was ankle-length, the color a deep blood orange that looked exquisite against the natural dark tan of her skin.

It caressed her form as she moved, the simple lines of it graceful and elegant both.

“Are the children happy and busy?” she asked as she reached him.

“Yes.” It hadn’t always been easy for Walker to trust the bonds of pack, especially when it came to the children, but he was a true SnowDancer now, understood that in a healthy pack, a child need never look far for affection or assistance.

Biting down on her lower lip, Lara tugged on his hands. “Let’s sneak away for a bit.”

Walker had never played, not as a child, not as a young man. But he was mated to a wolf now, and to a wolf, play was as necessary a part of life as breathing. Releasing his mate’s hands, he slid one of his around to
lie against her lower back. “This way.” His height made it easy for him to see through the mingled guests.

It still took them several minutes to navigate their way out, as packmates and friends wanted to say hello, but he finally got them to a spot in the shadow of a cabin. Far enough away from the party that they could speak in private, but close enough that they could still see the festivities. “Do you want to go into the forest?” Stroking his hands down her back, he rested them on the curve of her buttocks. “I want to.”

Lara looked at him through the thick fan of her lashes. “Bad man.” Her smile belied her words. “Leading me off the straight and narrow.”

Walker went to say that was his responsibility as her mate when something altered in the air between them . . . or perhaps something altered inside him. He didn’t know how to describe it, but he knew for certain that Lara’s body was no longer the same as it had been yesterday. Leaning down, he looked into her eyes.

“Walker?” Lara raised one hand to his cheek. “What’s the matter?”

Shaking his head, he tried to put a finger on what was bothering him . . . and
oh
. “Did you do a pregnancy test today?”

“No, I was going to wait till—” Lara’s eyes widened, one hand going to her abdomen. “Are you
sure
?”

He nodded. He couldn’t explain how, but he was sure. It was as if the mating bond had sent him a little pulse of knowledge, a warning that he’d have to take extra care of his mate in the months to come. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Walker, oh. A baby.”

He gathered her in his arms, his own heart thudding so brutally inside his chest it almost hurt. “I love Marlee until it’s hard to breathe at times,” he told her. “But I never had the chance to experience all the stages of her development. I had to steal time with her.” The times she wasn’t in day care and her mother, Silent and without rebellion, wasn’t around to see how Walker treated his child—as if she was precious. As if she was his heartbeat.

“You won’t miss out on anything this time around.” She lifted her
tear-wet face to his. “We’re going to go through this together, all of us. The whole family.” Her face glowed. “I can’t wait to tell the children.”

He loved her even more for loving Marlee and Toby as her own, for treating them like a mother would her babies. “Together,” he echoed, and holding her close, looked out at where Marlee was now sitting on the ground eating cake with a similarly occupied Ben next to her.

As he watched, Ben offered her what might’ve been a chocolate decoration from his piece. She accepted it, giving him something from hers in return. When Spencer moved into view to take a snapshot of the two, Walker knew he’d be asking for a copy.

“Do you think she remembers?” he asked Lara. “The times I had to be cold with her? The times I couldn’t pick her up when she cried?”

“Marlee is one of the most well-adjusted children I know.” Lara brushed his jaw with her fingers. “Whatever she might’ve missed out on in her childhood, she always knew that you loved her.”

Emotion rising in a tide inside him, Walker spread his hand over her hip. “When shall we tell the family?”

“After I do the test, double confirm.” Lara’s voice was shaky. “I feel like I’m made of champagne, bubbles of happiness fizzing up my brain.”

Walker could’ve never come up with that description, but it was exactly right. “Me, too,” he admitted, bending until their breaths kissed and he could drink in her sheer joy. “Me, too.”

JUDD DIDN’T KNOW
quite how he’d ended up with an armful of baby, but someone had handed the child to him, and so he now found himself looking into big brown eyes that looked back at him with just as much curiosity. She wasn’t one of the newborn pupcubs. He was fairly sure this child belonged to a leopard soldier named Emmett and his human mate, Ria.

Baby stealing was rampant at the party, the children passed around to be adored and kissed and spoiled. The pups and cubs and pupcubs seemed to take it in their stride, pack creatures that they were. But since no one seemed to realize that Judd had a baby, he stepped a little farther away from the main lights so he could spend more time with this tiny brown-eyed creature.

“Hello,” he said, though he knew the baby was too young for verbal communication.

She waved a fist at him.

Cradling her in one arm, he took the offered fist in his free hand. Her skin was so fragile, her bones so soft, and her grip delicate but determined when she tugged at his finger. He found himself smiling, fascinated by her small movements, the way she clearly wanted to bite down on his finger though she had only the merest suggestion of her first two teeth.

“Gorgeous man, you just melted my heart into a puddle.”

He’d known Brenna was coming nearer. He could feel her always. When she stopped at the other side of the baby and sighed, he glanced over to meet the extraordinary beauty of her gaze. “Why are you melted?”

“Seriously hot, seriously dangerous man with a tiny, adorable baby in his arms, both of them fascinated with one another?” Uncaring of her stunning ankle-length gown in poppy red, Brenna fell dramatically onto the ground, arms flung out. “Dead.” Pushing up onto her elbows, she said, “Especially since it’s my hot man holding a baby.”

He helped her up using his telekinesis. “You want to hold her?” he asked, strangely reluctant to pass over the soft, warm weight.

“No, it’s okay. You keep holding her.” Brenna smiled, obviously able to read his emotions. “Her name is Mialin Corrina.” Kissing the baby’s cheek, Brenna whispered, “Pretty, just like this tiny kitten.”

That kitten smiled and made happy sounds that did things inside Judd.

“Did you ever hold Marlee or Sienna?” Brenna asked.

“Marlee.” Not often, only when he’d been able to slip the leash of his trainers, and then only when his brother was alone except for the baby. “She used to do this, too.” Grip at his finger and later, at his hair. “I always found it so peaceful to hold her.” Feel the beat of her heart, the warm puff of her breath. “I never had the chance with Sienna.”

Brenna stroked his forearm. “If I’m right, you’ll be holding another baby very soon.”

Judd began to ask what she meant when he caught the line of her sight. His brother Walker was standing in the shadows thrown by a distant cabin, but there was no mistaking the joy on his face, or the protective way he had his hand over a beaming Lara’s stomach.

Judd’s heart gave this great big kick of a beat. “If anyone deserves to be a father again, it’s Walker.” His brother was the best father, the best man, that Judd had ever known.

Brenna tucked herself under his arm when he held it out. “Do you want kids?”

Judd looked down at the now sleepy-eyed baby in his arms, found himself nodding. “One day. When we’re a little older and more . . . like Walker and Lara. More steady. Do you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly. They’re rooted and solid, anchored.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “We’re still finding our way, discovering who we
are. But one thing I know—you’re mine and I’m yours and any growing we do will be together.”

“Always.” Judd couldn’t imagine life without Brenna. It simply didn’t make sense to him. “Do you think I should give her back?”

“Finders keepers, I say.”

So they kept the baby for an hour, watching her sleep and touching her upturned nose every so often, or brushing their fingers over her little fists. It was Emmett who finally came to claim his daughter. “Come on, baby girl,” he murmured, taking her from Judd.

His hands were big and a little scarred, his face rough-edged despite the fact that he’d shaved, but the tenderness in his hold was endless. The baby’s face lit up even in sleep at the sound of her father’s voice.

“Thank you for letting us hold her.” He knew Emmett must’ve been aware of his daughter’s location every instant that she hadn’t been in his arms.

“I figured she couldn’t be more safe than with an Arrow. You protect the innocent after all.” Emmett kissed his daughter’s forehead. “But now this kitten’s great-grandmother wants to see her and she has first rights.”

As the other man turned and walked away, Judd felt his heart give another kick. Because for the longest time, the Arrows had been the nightmares, the bogeymen. They’d protected, too, but no one had seen it. Now, at last, the world was starting to understand. It no longer mattered so much to Judd, but for his brethren . . .

He searched for and found Vasic in the crowd. The teleporter was standing quietly beside his mate while she chatted to Sascha, but he was engaged. He was present. As was a man who wasn’t an Arrow but who walked the same dangerous roads. Catching his gaze, Kaleb nodded. Judd nodded back before returning his attention to the wolf who’d hauled him into her arms and taught him to live.

“Let’s dance,” he said. “I want to celebrate this night.”

•   •   •

ANNIE’S
leg ached but it was nothing major, not now that she was using the anti-inflammatories Tamsyn had prescribed. The relative lack of pain
left her free to enjoy the festivities. She’d become used to changeling events in the time she’d been mated to Zach, but this one was unusual in more than one way. Not just because of the wolves but all the others here tonight.

That was when she saw him across the clearing. He was standing by the trees, separate from everyone while his eyes tracked the woman with dark blue eyes who was Faith’s cousin. Annie knew who he was of course—hard for anyone not to recognize the man rumored to be the most powerful Psy in the Net.

But seeing Kaleb Krychek on the comm screen was different from seeing him in person. The power that pulsed off him . . . It was strangely familiar, but perhaps she was fooling herself. Still, she had to know.

Moving carefully and using her cane for support, she made her way across the clearing after checking to see that Rowan was happy in the arms of one of his young aunts.
There he was, her beautiful boy.

She felt as if she was smiling with her entire body.

The constant use of the cane, the problems with her leg that had resulted from the change in her balance during pregnancy, it was all worth it.

Of course, Zach was a growly overprotective leopard who hated seeing her in any pain. If he had his way, she’d be sitting in bed drinking tea and eating crumpets every day. Smile growing impossibly deeper, she looked around, found her mate.

He was hunkered on the ground with his nephew Bryan standing behind him. Bryan had his hands over Zach’s eyes as he asked his uncle to guess something.
Ah
, that explained why Zach hadn’t zeroed over to her as soon as she left her comfortable seat. She liked that seat, loved how people constantly came over to socialize and how the cubs squeezed their warm, squirmy bodies in beside her when they wanted a rest.

Annie wasn’t stubborn without reason, and there was no reason to put unnecessary pressure on her leg when she could sit now and save up her energy for later.

Like for petting her mate.

But she couldn’t sit. Not tonight. Not at this moment.

Kaleb’s eyes connected with hers when she was still several feet away. He scanned away an instant later, likely believing she was moving to join a group a little way to his left. When she stayed on course, however, he returned his attention to her; she was close enough now to truly see those extraordinary eyes, see the white stars on black that was a cardinal’s gaze.

After coming to know Sascha and Faith, she’d realized cardinal eyes weren’t all the same. Each was distinctive . . . and this pair, she would never,
ever
forget. Throat thick, she came to a halt about two feet from him, the two of them far enough away from everyone else that they had privacy. It was clear he didn’t recognize her. Why should he? She’d been a small, skinny girl of seven at the time he last saw her.

He’d been a child, too, but those eyes. Those
eyes.

“May I be of assistance?” he asked when she stayed silent. “I can teleport you back to your seat if you’re in pain.”

Annie shook her head, her eyes burning. “It’s you,” she whispered.

He stared at her for several seconds before his gaze went slowly to her leg, then to the cane on which she rested her hand and her weight. When he lifted that starlit gaze to meet hers once more, she knew he remembered. Remembered the freak bullet train derailment, remembered the small girl trapped under a crushing weight of metal, remembered lifting that metal so she could be pulled out.

“They saved your leg.”

Swallowing, she nodded. “Plassteel that grew as I grew,” she told him. “It was the most advanced operation at the time.” There had been progress since then, and Annie had been considering one more operation that would fix the remaining issues, but then she’d fallen pregnant and decided the operation could wait. “My name is Annie Quinn.”

“I saw you with an infant.” Kaleb’s voice was as midnight as the sense of power that swirled around him.

“Yes, he’s mine. Mine and Zach’s.” A tear rolled down her face. “Thanks to you, I’m here and I’m—”

“Angel.” Zach’s voice, holding a hard edge. “Why are you crying?” He placed a hand on her lower back, Rowan cradled in his other arm.

Looking into his beloved face, she said, “Zach, it was Kaleb.” More tears rolled down her face. “All those years ago, it was him.”

Her mate’s grim expression changed into one of quiet respect. Sliding his hand out from behind Annie, he held it out to Kaleb. “It’s an honor.”

Kaleb shook Zach’s hand, though Annie could guess he wasn’t a man at ease with skin privileges on any level—except with Sahara.

“I did what was necessary,” he said with no change in his intonation or expression.

“You did what was right.” Annie refused to allow him to brush aside his heroism. He’d been a boy with such old eyes, and he’d done what was
right
. From what she’d learned of the Psy since becoming part of DarkRiver, she knew that choice would’ve cost him.

Under Silence, a telekinetic child would’ve been strictly supervised . . . and likely tortured in an effort to teach him control. “You were a hero that day,” she said through a throat gone raw. “I will never ever forget what you did.”

Zach pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you for saving my mate,” he said to Kaleb afterward. “I’ve wanted to say that to Annie’s ‘boy with the cardinal eyes’ for a long time.”

Kaleb inclined his head very slightly. “There is no debt,” he said, as if he’d tried to work out why she’d approached him and come up with that answer.

Smiling, she wiped away her tears. “I know. You’re a good person.”

“I believe you’d be one of two people on the planet who’d say that. The other one is the woman changelings would describe as my mate, so she’s understandably biased.”

That made her laugh wetly while Zach grinned. “Can’t say the man’s not honest.” He rubbed her lower back. “You want to tell him or shall I?”

“I want to.” Touching her fingers to her baby’s, she said, “This is our son, Rowan.” She looked up to hold Kaleb’s eyes. “I’d like to use your name as his middle name.” Without Kaleb, she wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t have a mate and a son. It was important to her to honor the act of courage of the boy he’d been in a way that made him part of her family.

Kaleb took several seconds to reply. “Are you sure you want him linked to me?” he asked at last.

“Yes.” She knew what the world saw when they looked at Kaleb Krychek, but she saw the hurt boy who’d nonetheless thought of others. She was glad, so glad that he’d found joy, that he’d found love. “You will always be a part of our family, and I hope you’ll accept that invitation in the spirit it’s given.”

Kaleb’s eyes left hers, found his mate’s, and Annie had the sense he was talking to her. When he looked back at her, he said, “Thank you.”

“We’ll send you our details, in case you’d like to visit.” She didn’t think Kaleb Krychek was the visiting-babies-and-friends kind of man, but he was family now and would be treated as such. “I hope you come.”

“Yes,” Zach added. “You’ll be welcome.”

•   •   •

AFTER
Kaleb inclined his head in acknowledgment of the DarkRiver couple’s offer, the male—Zach—began to coax his mate to head back to her seat. Having noticed how heavily Annie leaned on the cane and was now leaning against her mate, Kaleb said, “Would you like a lift?”

They both stared at him before grinning in concert. It was Zach who said, “Why the hell not?”

It took less than a heartbeat. He could see the destination and they were standing in front of him. Even as Annie opened her mouth to speak, the couple and their baby found themselves by the comfortably cushioned wicker chair from where Annie had walked over. Laughing, the couple waved at him before Zach helped Annie into her seat, then handed the infant to her.

An infant named Rowan Kaleb Quinn.

That was the first time I exercised my own free will,
he said to Sahara as his heart walked toward him, a woman of about five two in a strapless gown the color of ripe cherries that set off the warm shade of her skin. She’d chosen the black-on-black suit he wore, caressing her fingers over his pectoral muscles before she buttoned up his shirt.

I glimpsed news of the train derailment on the comm screen,
he told her,
saw that a small girl was trapped underneath all that twisted metal.
A child just like him, hurt and broken.
So I snapped the chains on my mind and for a small fraction of time, I was free and I was doing something good.