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BOOK: Wolf-Bound: Unfamiliar Territory
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While they dressed, she ran a brush through her hair, then deftly braided the damp, dark brown strands and fastened the ends in a sturdy clip.

Jenny went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, adding sugar and milk. She sat at the table, waiting, running the pads of her thumbs nervously around the lip of the cup.

“What’s up?” Devlin came into the room, grabbed a chair, and turned the back toward her, then straddled it, facing her. Damien walked in right behind him, flashing a smile as he poured himself a cup of coffee as well.

“Tara came to see me yesterday.”

“Really?” Oblivious to her underlying nervousness, Dev grinned. “I guess she’s feeling better. That’s great!”

As always, however, Damien sensed her tension and had gone still. “Tara may be feeling better, but there’s something more. Right, Jen?”

She nodded. Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. “Tara knows what you are.”

Dev’s grin disappeared. “What?”

“She knows. Apparently, she had a bit of a crush on you. She followed you a few times, when you were in high school. She saw you change and knew enough woodcraft to keep from being discovered, so you never caught on.”

Dev’s jaw hung open. Damien’s mouth was a thin, grim line.

“It’s all right; she’s not going to expose you or anything. She’s kept your secret all this time, and that isn’t going to stop now. I just needed to tell you so that the rest of what I say will make sense.” She stared into her coffee mug for a moment, then looked up. “The man she met in New Orleans. It wasn’t one man -- it was two. Two weyr.”

Her husbands’ eyes opened wide in dawning comprehension.

“She’s pregnant with weyr babies…I mean, a weyr baby. She thought she could handle it, but she’s decided to give him up for adoption. And she’d like that adoptive family to be us.”

Dev’s mouth started to curve at the corners, but then he frowned. “Wait. She lost one of the babies, right? That…that just isn’t possible. I mean, I don’t know of any female who’s ever lost one of a pair of twins.” He glanced up at Damien. “Right?”

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“As far as I know.” He shook his head. “This is nuts, Jen. I’m not even sure… Has the doctor said the other baby’s all right?”

Jenny nodded. “Yes! He has a strong heartbeat; he’s moving and kicking. They say he’s perfect in every way. They’re still not sure what happened with his brother. They have no explanation.”

Damien frowned. “Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe they weren’t weyr. If she lost one of a set of weyr twins, it would be the first case I’ve ever heard of. I can’t imagine that the other baby would survive -- we talked about this yesterday. When a weyr twin dies, it either drives the remaining twin crazy or kills him, under most circumstances. I would think in the womb the consequences would be even harsher, and nearly immediate.”

“In light of what you’ve told me, I can see why you would think that.” Jenny laced her fingers together to keep them from twisting nervously, resting her hands on her belly. “But she saw them change, Damien. And once I knew, I could sense the baby inside her. Sense that he’s weyr. I’d never noticed before, because I just wasn’t expecting that. Wasn’t looking for it. You’ll see, too.” She swallowed hard, dreading what came next. “That’s not all, though.

One of the boy’s fathers came to see her. He told her his twin had died. She said he seemed fine, at first. Lucid, determined to help her raise the babies. But then he found out she’d lost one of the twins and…she said he was changing as he ran off.” She took a deep breath. “After the shock had worn off, she tried to find him. Followed his trail up into the trees. She found his clothing, torn up, and a backpack. She took them, so no one else would find them. I think he must be --”

“Our rogue,” Damien barked between stiff lips.

“I think so.”

“Shit.” Devlin ran a hand through his shaggy gold-streaked curls.

“I think…I think maybe he was able to deal with his brother’s death because he knew there were two babies on the way, something to live for, something to, I don’t know…fill that void, maybe. But then when he found out one of the babies had died…”

Damien nodded. “He went off the deep end.”

“It had to be like losing his brother all over again. And maybe…maybe the twins are bound to their fathers, somehow. Maybe this baby is still alive because Jacob is.”

His brow furrowed. “It is strange, but…I just don’t know.”

“Has anything like this ever happened before?”

“Like I said, not that I know of.”

“But surely there have been accidents before, where one father is killed before the children are born.”

Damien and Devlin shook their heads. “I don’t think so,” Damien insisted. “You know injuries and illnesses don’t affect us the way they do pure humans. Most weyr die of old age.

As far as accidents, well, there are certain types of injuries even we can’t heal, but…” He

54 Rachel Bo

shook his head. “I honestly can’t remember ever hearing a story where one father died while the children were still in the womb. If it’s happened, I’d think we would have heard about it, at least about what the consequences were for the children.”

Dev piped in. “Who are they, anyway? These weyr. Did she give you names?”

“Yes. Umm, Jacob. Jacob and Johnathan O’Connail.”

“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell, but they’re, what, Irish? I think I remember her saying before that the guy she met in New Orleans was Irish.”

Jenny nodded. “Yes. And Jacob is the one that came to see her.”

“So Johnathan is the one who died.”

She nodded again.

Dev pushed up from the table. “Each country’s weyr population is pretty tight. I’ve never heard of these guys, but we have contacts in Ireland. I’ll make a couple of calls, see what I can find out about them.”

“Wait.” Jenny put a hand on his arm, looking from him to Damien. “We have to discuss what we’re going to do about him.”

He looked at his brother. Damien’s gaze narrowed. “What we’re going to do about him?

Look, Jenny, I told you before --”

“Just hear me out.” Jenny took a deep breath. “If this baby survived because Jacob did, then k --” She stopped. Shook her head at her inability to say the word. Tried again. “Killing him isn’t an option. We might lose the baby.”

Her husbands’ faces registered shock. “Hell, I didn’t think of that,” Devlin murmured.

“But we don’t even know --” Damien started.

“Exactly. We don’t know. Which is why we have to at least try to save Jacob. We can’t take the risk that their fates are bound together. There’s more than one life at stake, and the baby’s an innocent. I didn’t like the idea of dealing with the problem in…in that way even before I found out who the rogue is, and now…” She slapped a hand decisively on the table.

“You can’t. You just can’t do it.”

Dev collapsed back into his chair. Damien tilted his head, staring up at the ceiling.

“Jen --”

She grasped his shoulders. “Look at me.” When he resisted, she shook him. “Damien, please.”

He met her gaze reluctantly.

“Figure out a way to catch him. And a place to confine him.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. “That stable in the back that we use for mares about to foal. The birthing barn. It’s empty now. If we can keep him from harming himself or others, or exposing weyrfolk, at least until Tara’s baby is born, maybe we can use his son to bring him back. Show him there’s still something to live for.”

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Damien caught her head between his hands. “Jenny. You’re always fighting the odds.

There are some rules that can’t be broken. If anything were to go wrong --”

“I think she’s right.”

Damien’s eyes went wide, and he whipped his head around, glaring at his brother.

Dev flashed a rueful smile. “We have to try. We owe it to the baby.” He reached out, resting a hand on Jenny’s stomach. “Imagine if --”

“Don’t,” Damien barked harshly. “Don’t say it.”

“The boy deserves a chance. The man, too, for that matter. Just because we believe something can only happen one way doesn’t mean that’s the right way, or the only way.

When it comes to beating the odds --” He reached out and squeezed Jen’s shoulder. “-- I’ll bet on our girl every time. Every time.”

Damien’s gaze traveled back and forth between them. His brow creased with worry, he knelt beside Jenny and took her hands in his. “Is this what you really want?” His bright blue eyes seemed to peer into her soul.

“Yes, Damien. Please. There has to be a better way.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then took a deep breath and stood. “All right.”

Jenny jumped up and hugged him tight. “Thank you!”

His hand caressed her hair. “I feel the same way you do, Jen. You probably think I’m heartless, but according to every weyr I’ve ever known, going rogue is equivalent to having rabies. They can’t be saved or cured; the only thing to do is put them down. I’d love it if there was another way, but when it comes to protecting our family…” He shook his head.

“I’m worried. If anything were to happen to you or the children…” His dangerous expression said it all.

“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “That’s one of the reasons I love you. But you can’t protect everyone from everything, all by yourself. Sometimes you need help. And sometimes you have to look at things in a different way. Take chances. Maybe you aren’t supposed to be protecting us from Jacob. Maybe Jacob’s the one that needs protection.” A strange tingling swept through her from head to toe, a feeling of calm certainty. A shifting, as though something just off-kilter had canted back into place. That’s it, she thought. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Protect him.

Damien scrubbed both his hands through his hair. “Like I said, we’ll give it a try. For you.”

“Thank you.” One of the babies kicked hard just then, and she stepped out of Damien’s arms and settled back into her chair. “Ouch.” She grinned wryly. “I think one of these guys is going to be a soccer player.”

Damien chuckled. Reaching out, he tugged his brother up from the chair. “We’d better get busy. Let’s go see what we can do with that stable. Then we’ll hit the phones and check into what the family O’Connail’s been up to.”

56 Rachel Bo

Unconventional Union

The guys had been working in the barn for a couple of hours when Jenny hollered out to them. “I’m going for a walk.”

Damien appeared immediately at the stable door, frowning. “Honey, you’re almost full term.”

“And I feel fine.” She rested a hand on her tummy. “I’m half-weyr, remember? Since I found out what I am, my weyr senses have matured. I’ll know when it’s time.”

“But the rogue --”

“Will be resting at this time of day, right?”

Damien nodded grudgingly. “Probably.”

“And even a rogue weyr probably avoids signs of civilization in broad daylight. Besides, I have my walkie-talkie and my cell phone, and I’m not going far. But I’ve been cooped up in the house for a couple of weeks, and I need to visit the woods.”

He couldn’t argue further, knowing that her bond with the land was as strong as theirs, an actual physical longing that could even make her ill if denied. “All right, but be careful.

And if you sense anything at all out of the ordinary, even a hint --”

“I’ll be out of there immediately.”

“While you’re dialing the phone and the talkie.”

Jenny laughed. “Of course.”

She waved and started off, feeling his eyes watching her until she disappeared among the tree boles. She shook her head. Sometimes she wondered how so-called “normal” women handled being married to only one man. Damien was strong, confident, ambitious, but at times that translated into overbearing, domineering, and confrontational. Devlin, on the other hand, was carefree, outgoing, and humorous…which sometimes meant careless,

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impulsive, and frivolous. If she lived with only one of them, it probably never would have worked; they would have driven her crazy. But together they complemented each other, each one’s strengths conquering the other’s weaknesses.

She deliberately pushed aside all thought and closed her eyes, opening her senses to the land. She dug the toes of her bare feet into the rich, leafy debris beneath the trees. Ever since the night her husbands had bound her, she’d been able to commune with nature in a way that was more than psychological. With her feet buried in the loam, her skin actually tingled with the marching of a thousand ants, felt the pressure of the soft pads and the prickle of claws as a cougar threaded its way cautiously between the trees.

Opening herself to the experience, Jen walked aimlessly, her body automatically avoiding obstacles. Her arms spread wide, she trailed her fingers over rough bark, listened to leaves gossip. Abruptly, the gnarled trunks disappeared from beneath her fingertips, and she felt the warmth of the sun and sensed open space all around her. The wind caressed her like a lover, and she breathed deeply of the fresh air, heavy with the scent of loam and the crisp promise of chill during the coming September night.

“Jenny.”

A whisper shivered through her. She opened her eyes.

She stood in the middle of the clearing she could never find when actually looking for it, surrounded by the great, tall trees she still did not recognize, before an altar of stone. The same stone upon which her marriage to Damien and Devlin had been consecrated by the Goddess, and her bond with the land forged.

She dropped to her knees, bending her head, her dark braid draping her shoulder.

A chuckle. “There is no need for that, Daughter of Earth.” The wind’s caress brushed her cheek like gentle fingers, then lifted her chin.

The Goddess sat cross-legged upon the stone. Hair the deep, dark brown of the richest earth tumbled across shoulders the hue of honey. Jenny gazed upon her for a moment, then looked away, embarrassed as she realized Gaia was naked.

Another chuckle. “Look upon me, Daughter. Turn not away. See what I am, and what you will be. Someday.”

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