Chapter 13 - Conan
Hannah’s eyes have become softer, but not the kind of softness that makes her appear innocent.
She’s still fiercely and distinctly her, mature and powerful, but soft in a way that attests to how much she’s enjoying this.
We’ve been at it all night, and I just can’t seem to get enough of her; her scent, her soft flesh, how it feels to card my fingers through her hair, and how she lets me tug on a fistful every time I’m deep inside her and want a taste of her neck like I’m drinking in her pheromones.
Both of us have been ravenous, insatiable, inebriated in ways that neither of us could have experienced outside of this passionate tryst. Eight years of pent-up desire was a long wait for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to bed another woman while she was gone.
Hannah Young was my first.
She was my everything.
And only as I come, spilling hot ropes of seed inside her, do I realize that some things never change. I could never imagine someone else under me, taking all the passion I’m capable of giving, and returning it with equal vigor.
She’s perfect, like she was made for me. And she was, because she’s my fated mate.
So I hold her gaze steadily until I’ve poured every last drop inside her, and when we’re both spent, I flop onto my side and draw her into my chest.
She sighs and falls asleep almost immediately, and my lips curl into a smile.
That was amazing.
I feel amazing.
And that’s when my hand goes to my chest, and I peel back some of the bandage.
My injury has miraculously healed. The mate bond is complete now that we’ve consummated the ritual, bonding our bodies where our souls had been united in the mating ritual.
But there’s something still missing, and it feels like a gaping hole in my chest. Not from the injury, but from the uncertainty of where I stand in my relationship with Hannah Young.
We may be mated, but the hurt of both leaving me in the past and then lying to me about my child is unforgivable. It wasn’t supposed to be like this between us. We practically grew up together, and there was only one direction we were headed in if she didn’t leave me.
I sigh as I’m stung by the reminder, trying hard to overlook it and stay basking in the beauty of tonight. But my logical mind won’t let me.
You love her, Conan. You always did.
I glance at her sleeping face resting on my chest, and my heart tugs.
It shouldn’t be so hard to forgive the woman I’ve always loved. But I still don’t understand why she did what she did, why she left. Or why she was angry enough with me to keep Clarissa a secret from me.
Sighing discontentedly, I close my eyes and let myself bask in the aftermath of our passionate tryst, wondering if it will be enough for us to overlook whatever happened between us. Fate gave us a nudge toward each other for a second time, but there are things that we need to sort through.
***
My eyes spring open by the time the morning sunlight warms the room, a few rays peeking through the blinds, kissing my cheek.
I groan and stretch my arms over my head, and it takes a second for me to realize that Hannah is no longer lying beside me.
My heart sinks.
She must have run off as soon as she woke up, which wasn’t too long ago; I can tell by her warmth still lingering beside me and on her pillow, and the scent of lavender hanging in the air.
I sigh, sitting up and cracking my neck from side to side before wiping a hand over my face. My hair hangs like a mask over my forehead, covering my eyes, and I stare through the dark veil cast by my dark locks.
Of course, she ran away! I think, disgruntled. I was hoping we’d wake up together and finally talk.
But she had to run away, probably too ashamed of what she’d done, and too ashamed of what happened between us. It doesn’t change things, but it should have led her to open up to me.
With a yawn, I climb out of bed and prepare for the start of my day. After washing off all traces of Hannah from my skin, I’m left with the memory of her lips, her body pinned under me, her pleasure at my fingertips.
“Hannah Young…” I murmur and scoff as I pull a sweatshirt over my head, covering my chest that has since healed thanks to the mate bond. Though it has been completed now with consummation, it’s only our souls and bodies that have been united.
Our hearts remain at war with each other, my mind unable to grasp the things she did.
Well, if I can’t get through to her, then the least I can do is try to forge a relationship with my daughter.
I step out into the hallway, and a burst of light flashes from the door to Hannah’s bedroom. She steps out and doesn’t notice me, so I clear my throat to get her attention.
She looks up with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights, her face paling as if she was hoping she wouldn’t see me. I notice the bob in her throat when she gulps before she straightens up and faces me fully.
“Good morning, Conan,” she says in a flat tone, her expression bland.
I take a deep breath before marching down the rest of the hallway, stopping a few feet away to gauge what the mood is right now. I’m not sure if she’s going to open up or put her walls up again.
But when I get closer, and she presses her back rigidly against the wall, I know it’s the latter.
“Good morning, Hannah,” I return with a curt nod, but it’s met with silence. So, I decide to break the ice.
“Would you like some breakfast? I am quite hungry.”
Hannah shakes her head tightly. “Don’t worry about us,” she says. “I’ll prepare breakfast for Clarissa and me.”
She’s about to turn away, her statement made with finality, but I grab her wrist to stop her. I’m instantly hit with the awareness of the mate bond coursing through my veins, igniting my powers in my nerve endings, my inner wolf stirring and wanting out.
Hannah feels it too, and snatches her hand away, glowering at me with accusation. But she doesn’t spit venom at me.
“There is no need for you to take care of us, Conan. We can take care of ourselves.”
“I want to—”
“Don’t. Please,” she pleads, her brows furrowing now with worry. “Please don’t tell her.” Hannah shakes her head. “Please don’t tell her yet. Give her some time to adjust to the valley before you tell her. She’s spent nearly eight years without a father. Don’t just spring this on her.”
I nod slowly in thought, glancing at the door to Clarissa’s bedroom. From here, I can smell her wolf distinctly, and I frown.
“How come I wasn’t able to smell her wolf before?”
Hannah gulps. “I’ve been hiding her wolf from the coven since she was born. It was better that no one asked questions.”
I raise a brow. “How?”
“A potion.”
Nodding again, I turn my eyes to Hannah, staring intensely. “Are you planning on running away with her?”
“No. We’re not going anywhere. But I need you to give her time.”
“Fine. I will tell her when you feel like it’s the right time. But if anyone figures it out, or if she does and starts asking questions, I won’t deny it.”
Hannah nods. “Deal.”
“No more potion.”
She nods again. “I don’t have any more, anyway. We lost our supply in the wreckage that night.”
A flicker of anger ignites in my chest again. “You were planning on hiding her from me longer, weren’t you?”
Hannah opens her mouth to respond, but she’s interrupted when Clarissa’s door opens, and she comes skipping toward us.
“Mommy!” Clarissa chirps and comes rushing into Hannah’s open arms. The mother and daughter embrace, and I’m left hovering awkwardly in the hallway.
My heart lurches at the sight of the two, and I have the urge to be a part of them. But I promised Hannah I wouldn’t tell Clarissa right away. Still, it pains me to not be able to hold my daughter, or the fact that she’s almost eight and I missed so much time with her.
It’s especially troubling when Clarissa lifts her head from Hannah’s shoulder, her radiant, dark brown eyes fierce and curious as she stares at me.
“Hey, mister!” she beams brightly, unaware that she should be calling me “Dad.”
“Hey, kiddo,” I greet her with a gentle smile and a pat on her head. “Are you enjoying yourself in your new home?”
“A little, but I’m getting bored,” she pouts as Hannah sets her back on her feet. “I don’t have any friends here.”
Hannah hesitates as she crouches in front of Clarissa. “Don’t worry, Bug. You’ll make friends soon. Once we’re settled in, you can join the daycare. A friend of mine, Dorothy, runs the place.”
“Actually,” I step in, “I think it’ll be a good idea to visit the daycare today. I can take you there, if you’d like,” I offer, and Clarissa glances warily at her mother.
“Only if Mommy says it’s okay,” she says.
“Maybe not today, Bug,” Hannah says, glancing at me with a look between apology and firmness. “Let’s explore the house today. I’ll ask Dorothy to visit us instead, so you can meet her first.”
Clarissa nods, then skips her way down the hallway to the kitchen. This time, when Hannah turns, I don’t stop her as she follows our daughter.
I know what she’s thinking—that exposing Clarissa to the pack will lead to her discovering that she’s my daughter. The alpha’s daughter. The others will eventually put two and two together, noticing how similar our scents are, and the mere fact that I’m mated to her mother.
Once Hannah and Clarissa have disappeared, I sigh in frustration.
What am I supposed to do to get through to Hannah?
Are we ever going to get somewhere?
Feeling despondent, and unlike I’ve ever felt before—even when she left the pack and destroyed me—I drag my feet toward my study instead of following them to the kitchen.
Once I’m inside, surrounded by the scent of aging pine and old books instead of Hannah’s distinctly enticing lavender scent, I sigh.
I advance into the room until I’m seated at my desk, stacks of paperwork requiring my attention, but I’m not remotely interested or capable of putting my focus into work. Instead, I find myself gravitating toward the bottom drawer on the desk.
When I’ve pulled it open, I lift out the wooden box at the bottom and slide open the lid to reveal the only item it houses—a note.
The note Hannah left behind on her kitchen table when she left Iron Breath. Left the valley.
I’m sorry, Conan, but you and I can’t be together.
The pack won’t accept it.
That’s why I must leave before you become alpha.
This is the best thing for both of us.
Except, it wasn’t the best thing. Her choices left a gap of eight years between us, during which our daughter grew up without me.
I start thinking back to what Dorothy said about Hannah being banished from the pack.
Dorothy says she saw it, too, and I trust Dorothy’s visions as the seer.
She’s been an invaluable asset to us in the war against the demons, alerting us to impending trouble along our boundary lines long before it comes, saving lives because of it.
I trust Dorothy with my life because, for most of my life, she was like a mother to me.
But what if what she saw wasn’t the truth?
What if Hannah manipulated her visions and changed the narrative of her story to make it appear like she was the one who was wronged?
I can’t put it past Hannah when she just admitted to using a potion that hid Clarissa’s wolf from the coven.
Who knows what else she’s capable of?
If anything, it is my daughter I need to protect from her.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I’m going to make sure Clarissa doesn’t get twisted in Hannah’s web of lies. She may be her mother, but I am Clarissa’s father, and the alpha of this pack.
What I say goes.
And I’ll be damned if my daughter is ruined by Hannah’s complications.