Only You, No One Else (Shadow Haven #2)

PROLOGUE

450 years ago…

It was there, a few paces away, but to Beatrice Garner, the scent she could not overcome might as well have been a million miles away. Her feet begged her to move; she stumbled on her retreat, the wolf, her animal companion, howling their shared pain.

She wanted nothing more than to reach for the little boy she could hear chattering away in the house she couldn’t stop staring at, but she forced herself to hold her ground.

Her heart ached with the love she could not let consume her.

The child growing inside her nudged her as if sensing her distress, and she rubbed at her protruding belly.

She sniffed back her tears, her morning ritual more painful than even her husband, the man she loved with every breath, would ever understand.

Could she survive his entire life? The boy she couldn’t reach opened the door and stepped outside.

He froze, his eyes finding his mother, and it took all her strength for Beatrice to remain on her feet.

Her pain was only matched by her desire to extend a hand to that little boy, her little Mark, and bring him home.

But fear, the fear that had been her companion since the day he’d first moved within her, won.

Amelia, the Earth Witch who’d helped her through the ordeal of that pregnancy, warned of the consequences of allowing Mark to discover the truth of his being.

The warning reverberated in her skull in the few seconds mother and son stared at each other across the lawn separating them, and Beatrice did the hardest thing a mother can do: she turned away from her child.

“Mama?”

The tears she’d sniffed away a few minutes ago filled her eyes; her wolf howled out the pain she held back, her strength waning as Mark repeated his plea.

She held her eyes shut, the tears slipping past her control as she summoned all her strength not to turn to him, but her feet were too heavy, and she couldn’t walk away.

“Come on, grandson. We have a lot of work to do.” Her father, the Prime Alpha’s voice, tore a sob from her chest. She heard the longing in Mark’s voice as he accepted comfort from the man whose love was all-abiding, but would never replace hers.

Her heightened senses followed their retreating steps, sure she would not hold to her resolve if she turned around.

Her muscles regained their vigor the second her father and her baby boy were too far for even her exceptional senses to track them.

The labored trek to her house took what felt like a century, her desire to protect her special boy from all evil weighing on her shoulders.

But she didn’t know who or what would come for him.

The prophecy had little information on that.

But it was explicit in its warning that her love would awaken the side of him that would unleash evil into the world.

But how was she supposed to stop loving someone who was a part of her? The child growing in her, another son, as Amelia had confirmed, moved again, and she reached for him. “It will be all right, little one. I promise.”

He settled, his frantic movement ceasing as if he trusted in a promise she wasn’t sure she believed.

Beatrice did her best to wipe away the remnants of her grief as she approached her house.

The Prime Alpha had taken both her sons under his wing as soon as she’d explained her predicament.

Werewolves had little contact with witches, and her father had not been happy with her association with Amelia, but he’d seen the wisdom in the continued friendship.

Without Amelia and her potent cloaking spells, she would have lost her son long ago.

This plan to deny him her affection was not working as well as they’d hoped.

Every morning, she tried and failed to resist the urge to go to him, even knowing the tremendous pain seeing him would bring.

But she wouldn’t trade those lingering looks for anything.

Her husband’s subdued smile greeted her, and she thanked him for enduring the distance from his son with her when he didn’t need to. This was her cross to bear, and she was determined to keep it on her shoulders if it meant Mark would stay safe.

Like he did every morning, he brought her a chair and urged her to sit, then retreated into the house, giving her the space to come to terms with her grief.

Words failed them both every day. By high noon, her duties would ease the burden, but by nightfall, the pain would be back, and the cycle would repeat the next morning.

Beatrice leaned back, closed her eyes, and allowed the silent tears to salve a broken heart she had no hope of mending. Her wolf did not attempt to ease her pain, howling in chorus with each gasp her tears brought.

A shadow fell over her, and she opened her eyes on a gasp.

“Mama?”

Her breath caught; her wolf’s whine filled the space in her mind, her heart thudding out of rhythm. Her fingers itched to touch him, feel his skin, grab hold of him and never let go, but Amelia’s warning echoed in her memory, and she extended her hand, only to draw it back at the final moment.

She remained imprisoned in the chair, her need to hold her son and the fear that her love would cause him harm, battling away in her mind.

Mark made the choice for her, his steps tentative as his little ten-year-old legs moved with purpose toward her.

She tried to move, to put space between them, but the battle between her fear and desire held her in place.

A sob tore from her lungs when her baby crawled onto her lap without a word, curling into her as if to offer his comfort.

The wolf sharing her mind space howled, and Mark’s wolf answered with a howl that tore more sobs from her heart. She buried her face in his hair, taking the comfort her son offered. It wouldn’t hurt to hold him just for a moment, would it?