Reading Online Novel

Lion's Share(5)



“Meat and veg-ta-bles,” Logan said as I stood with him seated on my forearm. “Mommy said nuh-uh, cotton candy is not healthy, even when it’s green!”

I chuckled. “I tried, little man, but your mom’s too smart for me.”

His head bobbed solemnly. “Me too.”

When I looked up, I found Abby watching me, her freckled forehead crinkled. “If you haven’t been back in three years, why does Logan remember you? And call you Uncle?”

“I said I hadn’t seen Faythe in three years. I come see this little monster at his mom’s as often as possible.” When I tickled Logan, his head fell into the light from the front porch.

Abby gasped. “He looks just like Ethan!”

I realized she probably hadn’t seen him in months, and kids change so fast at that age. Which was why I visited as often as I could.

Logan nodded at her. “My daddy. Hero.”

“Damn right he was.” I squeezed the boy, and a smile took over Abby’s face when his bright green eyes lit up. In spite of whatever genes he’d inherited from Angela, his human mother, Logan’s resemblance to the father he’d never met was uncanny when he smiled.

“How old are you now?” Abby brushed a strand of dark hair from the boy’s forehead. “Two?”

“Three.” He held up four chubby fingers. “And a half!”

The conclusion surfaced in her eyes like an accusation when she turned to me. “You haven’t seen Faythe since Logan was born.”

I nodded. I’d moved on after Faythe chose Marc, but for a long time, seeing them together had stung. So, I’d stayed away to make things easier for all three of us.

Until now.

“No fair!” A new voice called as a larger but equally dark-haired boy stumbled to a stop on the top step, glaring at Logan. “You tripped me! And Grandma says close the front door ’cause she’s not in the business of heating the great outdoors.”

I took me a moment to recognize Desiderio, and if his eyes hadn’t been identical to Manx’s, I might not have. He was nearly five, by my count, and well-spoken for a kid his age. At least, judging by the standards my collection of younger half brothers had set.

Abby laughed and held her arms open, and Des ran into them.

“Abby! I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I didn’t know you were coming!” She scooped him up and held him on her right hip, unfazed by his size or weight. “Where’s your mom?”

“Feeding the baby. Daddy said we could wait up for Jace. Tell him to let us stay up longer!”

“Ha! That’s well beyond my authority,” Abby told the child, and he glanced over her shoulder at me, still hopeful, even though he couldn’t possibly have remembered me. He’d been less than a year old the last time I’d seen him.

“That’s not up to me, bud,” I said, and Logan pouted in my arms.

Desiderio looked puzzled. “But you’re an Alpha, right?” He sniffed the air in my direction, scenting out hormones. “You smell like an Alpha.”

“Dads trump Alphas every day of the week.” I set Logan down and the boys ran into the house together to find Owen, who’d adopted Des when he and Manx had married a couple of years before.

“Ready?” Abby whispered, and I could tell from how intently she was watching me that she knew how nervous I was. If she could see that, so would everyone else, and Alphas couldn’t afford to be nervous. Especially the junior-most Alpha—the one with the most to prove.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

She stepped into my path, facing me from just inches away, and her sudden nearness made my chest ache. Damn, she was beautiful. Light from the porch lit her curls on fire, and it took every scrap of willpower I had to keep from reaching for her. From leaning in...

“You’re going to be great.” She stared up at me as if I’d hung the very moon reflecting its light in her eyes. “All you have to do is let them see what I see.”

My throat felt tight. What did she see?

“Strength. Confidence.” Abby smiled up at me, answering a question I hadn’t even voiced. “Passion. Dedication. Determination. You’ve given everything you have and everything you are to this job. They’ll be able to see that.” She stood on her toes to wrap her arms around my neck, and the easy contact caught me by surprise. My pulse spiked before I could check the reaction.

If Abby noticed, I couldn’t tell. She snuggled closer, and as I wrapped my arms slowly around her, breathing her in, I told myself to keep it in perspective. Cats thrive on physical comfort from their Pridemates, and that was all she was offering. In fact, it had probably never occurred to her that anything else would occur to me.

Not that I was thinking of never letting her go.

I tried to relax into her touch, telling myself that this was more like hugging my sister than like touching…any other woman I’d ever touched. But my body didn’t believe my brain.

“I hope you’re right.” So far, I’d run my Pride in a virtual vacuum, intentionally maintaining distance from the other Alphas and their territories while I worked to establish my authority and get things organized. This meeting would be my in-person debut as a leader, and Faythe would be there to see it.

Marc would be there to judge.

If I failed to impress the rest of the council, my authority as an Alpha would be weakened, and I could not afford for that to happen before Melody got married. Before I had a chance to train her husband.

“I’ll be right beside you.” Abby’s breath brushed my earlobe, and again I lost control of my pulse. “For moral support.”

When she finally let me go, I exhaled slowly, trying to deny disappointment I felt like a physical ache. What was wrong with me? She was off limits, and if I couldn’t get my head in the game, the rest of the council wouldn’t let me play for much longer.

I followed Abby into the house and pulled the door closed at our backs. For a moment, I just stood there, taking it all in. I felt like I’d gone back in time to an alternate past in which the floor plan of the house was unchanged but the rooms had all been assigned different purposes. And different occupants.

When Greg was in charge, the ranch had felt busy but structured. Orderly. Organized.

Faythe was an entirely different kind of Alpha, and under her leadership, chaos reigned. But it was a cheerful chaos, and that was actually a nice change.

A rocking horse sat in the entryway, still draped with a little boy’s Batman cape in place of a saddle. Down the hall, one of the kids was crying, and behind the last closed door on the left, fast-paced, half-synthesized music blared from the room that had once belonged to Michael, Faythe’s oldest brother. Kaci had moved into it more than four years before, after the South-Central Pride had taken her in as a lost and traumatized thirteen-year-old.

From the kitchen came the hum of both coffee pots running at once, along with the soft growl of the dishwasher and the clank of heavy pots. Faythe’s mother was cooking chili, based on the scent. At ten P.M. Because a shifter’s appetite knew no schedule.

Before I could absorb all the other nostalgic sights and sounds, the back door flew open and three large, broad enforcers came in, debating the benefits of one video game sniper rifle over another. Victor Di Carlo led the group and the moment he saw me, a smile took over his face.

He jogged down the hall, arms already open, and a second later, he was thumping me on the back. “Three years, you selfish son of a bitch! When we said don’t be a stranger, we meant it!”

“Sorry, man.” I gave his back an affectionate whack. “Things have been busy.”

“I bet.” He studied my face while his subordinate enforcers gave me a nod of respect, then filed into the kitchen for what could only be dinner, part two. “Responsibility looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” But my next thought trailed into oblivion when I saw Brian Taylor coming down the hall, his gaze trained on Abby as if no one else existed.

“Abby.” Brian’s heartbeat spiked and he dared a brief glance down the length of her body, obviously caught between the desire to look and the enforcer’s imperative to remain respectful, especially to his psychologically fragile fiancée. “You look amazing. Really beautiful.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled.

Irritation shot up my spine in a white-hot blaze. I’d never seen the two of them together and I hadn’t spoken to Brian in at least a couple of years, yet I was suddenly certain that he wasn’t right for her.

He wasn’t good enough.

If Brian were truly Alpha material, shouldn’t I feel threatened by him, on some level? Shouldn’t my respect for his power and leadership potential be at constant war with my instinct to stomp them both right out of him?

I mean, sure, I wanted to shove him facedown on the floor and make him lick up the dirt I’d tracked in on my boots, but where was the admiration that was supposed to temper the demand for Alpha dominance coursing through my veins? If I pushed Brian down, he would stay there. I could feel that, just like my inner cat felt the call of the woods.

Abby needed a man who would get up. Who would push back.

She needed a man who couldn’t be knocked down in the first place.