Chapter 28 #3
We all turned at the same time as we felt a strong presence make its way closer to where we were.
Where I’d thought Duncan’s mom’s magic had been enormous, this other one seemed to be on the same level.
It felt both very similar to Franklin’s and very different at the same time. There was a smoothness to both of theirs, where a werewolf’s was wild, but that was the only major likeness between them. The one coming toward us felt dark and bottomless. The same way an ocean would feel at night, I figured.
If this was what other people sensed around me, I understood now.
“Child,” the figure called out as he cut in between a row of cars.
He must have parked in the back.
“Don’t you ‘child’ her, you imbecile,” Franklin was the one who snapped, so at odds with his khaki pants and the sweater vest layered over a button-down shirt. “What are you doing here?”
The figure’s steps faltered. “Imbecile! I’m here to see my daughter!” the man shouted, stepping right up into using his outdoor voice.
“Now she’s your daughter?” my apparent champion, Uncle Franklin over here, shot back without missing a beat.
Henri peeked at me, and we blinked at each other.
This might have been in the top five most surreal moments in my life. Standing in a magical forest with a hellhound, a wolf god, and a god of dreams. My baby, my future mate, and my uncle. And the man who thought he was my father—a death god.
And the two oldest were bickering?
“She has always been my daughter!” the other man exclaimed, honestly sounding insulted. He even sniffed before raising his voice again. “Your resemblance to your mother is uncanny.”
He was talking to me now?
Henri must have not liked that much either because I heard him grumble from deep in his chest, but honestly… honestly… I wasn’t worked up about this. Not at all. About any of this. It caught me off guard, if anything. Waiting around for the Alaskan people had been gut-wrenching and nerve-racking, and this had nothing on that.
I had no control over other people’s actions, but in this case, I didn’t have anything to lose.
My life was whole and complete, and this person coming into it wouldn’t change anything. Not for the better, and I wouldn’t let him for the worse. And neither would the men standing around me, it seemed.
That’s why they were here.
Fierce protectiveness rose up inside of me one more time, even stronger than before, reminding me that of all of us here, maybe Franklin might have the most power in his body, but I had this man’s magic in me.
There was going to be no bowing tonight. Not thanking the gods that this MFer was here, paying attention to me. There would be no altars or rejoicing.
Maybe I’d give him a tiny bit of credit for coming, but I didn’t owe him shit.
“I wouldn’t know if I look like her. I never met her either,” I told him in a flat, casual voice.
I still couldn’t see my DNA dad’s face even though he wasn’t that far away. The lighting just happened to hit his features in the perfect way to obscure them. His body, on the other hand, was visible.
And he was clenching his hands into fists at his sides. “It was a mutual decision that we allowed others to raise you. You are the only child we conceived together, and the only child either of us had in centuries. You might very well be the last for both of us,” the man explained, a weird inflection to his words.
“Because you’re a useless old bastard!” Franklin threw out, surprising me again.
My mouth twitched, and I squinted, trying really hard to see more than just his silhouette.
“It was not a decision we took lightly,” my biological father tried to argue as he took a few more steps, finally getting into a spot where his features were visible.
I would’ve walked right by him in public.
He was a handsome-looking man in maybe his fifties, younger than Franklin, I thought. He looked like he should have been an actor with his pale skin, classic bone structure, and deep black hair. But the most striking of all was his presence. It was some of the purest magic I had ever felt, like Duncan’s mom, my old neighbor, my uncle, and the pink waterfall.
I wondered though, at that moment, why in the world Dominic would have let him into the community when he’d reacted so poorly to me? Had he had a bracelet on before and he’d taken it off? I could wonder about it later.
There were other things to focus on at the moment. Like how his voice wasn’t a total shock to my ears. But standing there, looking at the man I had wondered over from time to time throughout my life… I didn’t feel anything for him . Not happiness. Not relief.
I didn’t feel any more complete than I had ten minutes ago.
And that acknowledgment gave me a strength of its own.
If anything, it made it real, real easy to draw on my inner brat.
“Have you always been good at making excuses, or is that something new?” I asked.
Franklin’s head swiveled toward me.
The man claiming to be my father took another step forward, jabbing his finger… at me?
That had gotten under his skin? Mr. Big Bad Death didn’t like being told he made up excuses? What a surprise.
“Do you understand who you are disrespecting? I’ve been known by many names, been feared by thousands! Civilizations erected altars in my memory! They worshipped at my feet!” He was getting wound up right in front of our eyes, taking another step forward. “I am a god! And you are my offspring. You owe me your very life.”
Henri’s body tensed beside mine.
But it was a deep, resonant howl that made me flinch.
Then it made my eyes go wider than they ever had before.
Because it wasn’t Henri who made it.
The howl, a different pitch from any other werewolf I’d ever met, pierced through the air, leaden and great, and it was coming from Duncan.
My mouth could have hit the floor from shock.
And then my boy almost had me falling to my ass, but I managed just to stumble into Henri instead.
Because there was a flame erupting from my donut’s throat as his head arched upward to the sky and he “awooed” like he had never “awooed” before.
It was as ponderous as the pines around us, as magical as the moon itself, with a depth that seemed so at odds with his size.
I’d never heard a war cry, but for whatever reason that was the first thought that came into my head when I heard it.
And it was so freaking beautiful .
“Holy magical shhhhh….” I whispered, in pure amazement.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and I heard Henri’s whoosh of an exhale at my ear.
As the howl came to an end, my puppy posed there standing, looking so dang majestic, so ethereal, it choked me up.
He was straight out of a millennia-old tale in that moment.
I squeaked.
“Where did that come from, Donut?” I cried before dropping to my knees and stroking from his head down his spine. I forgot all about where we were and who was in front of us and everything that was happening and everything that was going to happen. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard!” No offense to Henri.
“Yes,” my donut agreed, his whole focus still out on the man who stood frozen in the middle of his spiel. “Love.”
“I love you too,” I promised, giving him another long pet. “That was incredible!”
He’d had fire coming out of his throat! Nobody said anything about that! I hugged him so tight.
Fire! From his throat!
I lifted my head. “Henri, did you see that? ”
He was already grinning, his eyes wide and bright, as he nodded. “That was great, Duncan.”
He deserved another hug, and I gave it to him.
“This is the child you mentioned, my brother?” my DNA dad decided to ask in a voice that didn’t sound so angry anymore. It actually sounded… intrigued? “My child bonded with a hellhound? And you didn’t think to tell me that’s why you were poking around with the brothers?”
I wasn’t going to bother acknowledging him calling me his child again, and apparently neither was everyone else.
“I don’t need to tell you anything,” Franklin replied tersely.
My biological father huffed, and I watched his body language change as I got back to my feet. He seemed to relax? “I see.” His huff was a little lighter. “I supposed I would like to hear this story in the future, how you came about giving me a hellhound grandchild.”
I wasn’t sure if I stumbled into Henri or he stumbled into me.
Hellhound grandchild? Was this man who I had never actually met before already referring to my Dunky as his grandchild? This wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t be.
But then he ruined it again. “Is this the man I’ve heard is attempting to taint my bloodline?” he went on, literally digging himself into the world’s deepest hole.
Henri and I made eye contact, his lip curled with a snarl.
I didn’t need to fight his battles. He’d cemented that by shaking Dom like a rag doll. I bowed and flipped my hand, palm up, to give him the floor. Something told me he wanted it.
And this flirty, funny man hidden beneath layer after layer of responsibility and duty, with the strength of how many men I had no idea, winked at me. But only me. Because when he faced the direction of my father, all that affection was wiped clean and His Fluffy Highness was out. Jaw line rigid, chin high, his glare on point.
He was unbelievable.
“The only person assuming anything here is you,” the Great Wolf growled, an absolute menace. “This is my forest, and you’re trespassing.”
My DNA dad’s scoff echoed. “Is that supposed to intimidate me?” my father asked, his tone back to that one that couldn’t mean anything good. “She is my daughter.”
A laugh rumbled out of Henri’s chest, and it wasn’t an amused one. It was honestly sort of scary. I liked it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed even Franklin turned to him like he was surprised he had that in him. But I guess it was one thing to know you were stronger than a normal werewolf, and another thing to instigate a death god. Then again, Henri wasn’t just any old wolf.
“Everything you see here is mine. She is mine .” His magic—bright and more intense than ever, like he’d had it hidden within him—carried through the night on swift wings, covering everything in its path with possession. “And I’ll remove your bowels and shove them down your throat if you think you have any say in our future,” Henri snarled, the muscles of his back flexing visibly through his shirt.
I had to throw my hand over my heart because I had freaking known it! He would disembowel someone for me! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!
I must have made a sound because he glanced over his shoulder.
The expression on my face must have said I was in love with him because his lit up, a smile spreading across his face, which had been so pissed a second ago. His eyebrow went up that millimeter. “You didn’t even smile that much when we agreed to mate.”
“Violence might be my love language.” I still had my hand over my heart. “I knew you would do some shady stuff to protect me. I just knew it, Fluff.”
He reached back, and his hand nudged mine.
I took it.
“Always,” Henri claimed, his own voice a hoarse promise in the night.
“All the bowels?”
“Slowly and painfully,” he promised.
My nose tickled, and a weight hit my calf, and I peeked down to find Duncan leaning against me, though his attention was still aimed at my biological father. The fire in his throat was gone and his tail was normal-looking, by his standards.
Steeling my spine, I gripped Henri’s hand tighter and faced my DNA dad with him. He had moved a little closer, and it was really easy to see all of his features now. Good. Now there’d be no mistaking my intent. “This isn’t your bloodline, it’s mine, and if my future children turn out to be the size of a miniature pony when they’re toddlers, you don’t have a say in it,” I let him know.
For whatever reason, that piqued his attention, and my biological father took two steps forward. “What’s your surname?” he demanded.
“Is he talking to me or you?” I whispered to Henri.
“I don’t know.”
“I know your surname, child!” my DNA dad bellowed. “The werewolf!”
Duncan growled.
“Why does he want to know your last name?” I asked him as I bent to comfort my boy, even though it might be worth seeing magical fire come out of his throat. I still couldn’t believe he’d done that. I had to ask the hellhound brothers what was up with that. “It’s okay, Donut. He wasn’t a good dad; I’m not surprised he isn’t a good granddad, yelling like that.”
“He isn’t good at anything,” Franklin chimed in, his attention still on his brother.
“He’s asking so he can guess my ancestry,” Henri answered me before bellowing, “I’m a Blackrock and a Nyberg.”
My biological father narrowed his eyes. “Your mother was?—”
“Yes,” Henri didn’t bother letting him finish his question.
“I see.” He blinked again, even slower.
I guess he knew Henri’s mom.
Duncan let out a quiet, long “awoo” that had us all looking at him. “Yes.” His tail wagged, the blue so bright in the night. His eyes like two red coals against his coat. He was beautiful.
The other man stirred. “I have no problem with it, my grandson,” my biological father said, taking another step closer, answering a question I hadn’t heard.
He kept coming, closer and closer until he was about ten feet away, and Henri side-stepped so that a small part of his body blocked me from my DNA dad. I wrapped my arms around his forearm and rested the side of my head against his triceps, waiting.
“Agnes,” Henri called out as a white puppy bounded over, and she came to a stand on the other side of Duncan.
The little white wolf snapped her jaws at my father like the fearless menace—gnomes not counting—she was.
My biological father’s expression turn amused before he met my eyes with dark, nearly black eyes. “I was only aware of one child,” he noted.
“She’s ours too,” I claimed, Henri’s fingers jerking in mine.
“So many allies, I see. The sasquatch with the anger problem wasn’t particularly friendly, either.”
Spencer? An ally? Since when?
“I allowed him his disrespect when he met me at my car on the way in, but only to an extent. I made it clear what would happen if he continued, and he went back home. Their kind isn’t known for their loyalty. I’m surprised it went as far as it did,” my father explained with a frown. So that was what had made him take so long getting here during the Dom incident. “Your gnomes even had the nerve to ignore my calls when I asked for them.”
My little buddies did what?
“You’re upset with me, and I can understand why you might feel that way,” my father started to say, and I opened my mouth to tell him that I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually been upset with him—I hadn’t cared enough or thought enough about him or my biological mom to feel most things—but I managed to keep my mouth closed. “You have several reasons to not be thrilled with my presence because of it.”
More than several, but I didn’t say it out loud either.
“You may very well be my last child, and I would like to make amends for the dishonor I did you by not being a part of your life,” he continued with his soliloquy.
I blinked, and I think I might have even heard Henri and Duncan do the same.
“I would like to get to know you and the rest of our family.” My DNA dad sounded like he finally finished.
The rest of our family?
His eyes darted to Henri and Duncan.
I narrowed mine at him.
His intentions sounded nice. But intentions and actions were two totally different things, and I didn’t know him. Didn’t trust him.
Maybe he felt bad now for his choices. But….
The sound of a throat clearing had me turning to my uncle who was still glaring. His voice was very low as he asked, “You have no interest?”
I shrugged. “Honestly… not right now.”
His answering nod was resolute, and I was pretty sure I saw pleasure flash across his features briefly. What followed was the sharp sound of something heavy hitting the ground like a couple sacks of potatoes from a two-story building. But it wasn’t any kind of potato that met the gravel.
It was my DNA dad sprawled on the ground.
“He’ll be asleep for some time. Would one of you help me drag him out of the way so he isn’t run over? His people can deal with him later,” Franklin just about chirped with more glee than I’d heard out of him yet, his hands going to his hips.
Henri squeezed my fingers at the same time as I blinked.
The man who was responsible for the great and terrible magic in me was out cold.
My uncle cleared his throat again. “He’s sleeping. I didn’t kill him.”
I wasn’t sure that was ever a sentence I’d imagined hearing, but… this was my life now.
And maybe I should’ve been irritated, but it was pretty freaking awesome.