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Rebecca’s Wolves(92)

By:Becca Jameson


Rebecca scrambled past everyone else to fill the tea pot. There was at least one thing she could do.

Melinda touched her arm. “You okay?”

“How many people are going to ask me that?” Rebecca forced a smile.

Melinda narrowed her gaze. “We’ll talk later.”

Rebecca nodded. She didn’t know what they might talk about later, but if it meant another fun night with Melinda over wine and corn chips, she was in.

As the four of them sat at the table with coffee and tea, a noise caught Rebecca’s attention. She twisted around to find Miles standing in the doorway.

He looked a little worse for wear—like a man who’d had the forty-eight hour flu and just now left the bathroom for the first time in two days. That was the most accurate description she could think of as he leaned on the doorframe.

But God he also looked so good to her.

She jumped up from her seat and ran to his side, gingerly wrapping an arm around his middle while gauging his reaction. His skin was warm. That was a good sign. And his chest looked unmarred. Last night it had been scratched and bleeding in several places. He stood before her now in his wolf-signature apparel—jeans—looking far better than last night.

He leaned on her as he padded toward the table, kissing the top of her head. “Coffee, love.”

“Got it.” Before she could turn around, Griffen had the pot and another mug. He filled the cup for Miles and set it in front of him.

Miles took a sip and moaned.

“You okay?” Mimi asked.

He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

The older shaman furrowed her brow. “Melinda told me a bit about what happened last night. Tell me in your words.”

“It seems Peaceman lured me to his barn to kill me.” Miles closed his eyes and popped his neck back and forth several times, making Rebecca wince. “He yammered on about keeping the pack pure and not mixing with outsiders.”

“White men?” Mimi asked.

Miles shook his head. “I don’t think it’s about white or Indian. It seems he’s opposed to anyone of our tribe mating with anyone outside of it, of any race.” He hesitated, licking his lips. “He also mentioned Mom.”

Melinda flinched. “What did he say?”

“He said something about her mating with a white man and getting pregnant with a half-breed.” He shook his head and turned his gaze to his grandmother. “What the fuck could he possibly have been talking about? Do you know? Melinda and I are clearly not half anything. Unless we’re half human. How would we know? You’ve never mentioned a word about our father.” His voice was snarky.

His grandmother blew out a breath. “No, you aren’t half anything. Your father was from our tribe.”

“And?” Miles leaned forward, pushing his coffee out of the way. “You know some things you haven’t told us. If some elderly asshole is harassing my mate and threatening to kill me, I think now would be a good time to come clean.”

Melinda looked shocked, her jaw hanging open. “Grandma? He’s right. You’ve been tight-lipped for nearly three decades. I understand Mom is your daughter and it hurts you to speak of her disappearance, but she’s also our mother, and we have a right to know whatever you know.”

Mimi slumped in her seat, shrinking before their eyes.

“Who was our father? Is he alive?” Miles asked when Mimi didn’t speak quickly enough for his liking.

“I don’t know.” She met Miles’ gaze and then turned to face Melinda. “Your mother was raped by your father.”

Melinda’s eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. “And you’re just now telling us this?”

“Why would you need to know? How would that have ever helped you in any way? It was a horrible time in your mother’s life. I’ve never wanted you two to feel the misery she felt.”

“And she didn’t tell you who raped her?” Miles prodded.

“She didn’t know. She never saw him. He came up behind her, slipped something over her head, and then took her brutally one night when she was walking home. It was late. She never had a chance. She only knew he was large, drunk, and spoke with a slur.”

“But he was from our tribe? Couldn’t she identify him by scent?”

“Of course, if she’d ever known anyone with that scent before or encountered them afterward. But she did not.”

“That’s crazy. There aren’t that many of us.” Miles stiffened to the point that Rebecca worried for him. The vein above his left eye bulged with anger.

“Well, smarty pants,” Mimi continued, “tell me something I don’t know. You think we didn’t try? I went to the authorities immediately. It’s not that simple. Our people are spread out in this area of the reservation. There are plenty who live a reclusive life and are barely accounted for. In addition, we can’t rule out someone who left the reservation at some point. Perhaps even a family that left over a century ago.”