When the alpha, his mate, and his sister return, Monty and Sasha explain what happened as calmly as they can.
Still, the alpha isn't happy, and fearful of his anger, I stick close to Monty's side. I know Dane won't hurt me, and that he isn't like my uncle, but I can't help the way my heart races and my limbs tremble at the growl in his voice.
Monty says I have something called 'anxiety,' and 'pee tee ess dee,' and I believe him even though I don't know what that means.
"Fuck," Dane swears, examining the broken glass. "The fuck did this?"
"Dane!" His mate holds both twins, who only left Monty's arms in favor of their father's. "Not in front of the kids. How many times?"
"Sorry," Dane grunts. "But... well, fuck."
"Sasha's out searching the perimeter," Monty says. "She should be back soon."
"Sasha?" Dane asks, a hint of accusation in his tone. "Why not you?"
"Because your children screamed like tiny banshees every time I tried to set them down," Monty replies mildly. "Dug their little needle-claws in my arms, too. That's not a Wolf trait, is it?"
"Nope. They get that from Julian. Regardless, I don't like Sasha out there alone. Freya, maybe you—"
Even as he speaks, an elegant cream and ginger colored wolf trots through the open front door, nipping lightly at his fingers as she goes past on her way upstairs.
"Sasha's a Wolf, too, Dane," Monty reminds him gently. "She can handle herself."
A moment later, Sasha descends in human form, dressed in blue jeans and a loose white blouse, tying her abundant cinnamon curls back in a ponytail.
"That's right," she says. "She can."
Dane crosses his arms over his chest. "So, what'd you find?"
"Not much." She shrugs, coming to perch on the arm of the sofa beside Monty and me. "Just familiar scents—us, the usual wildlife—nothing new or different."
"Who's 'us,'" Dane asks.
She frowns at him. "Everyone staying here, plus Martin and Jake."
"What about neighbors?"
"The nearest live ten miles off. You know that."
He sighs, rubbing a hand over his long, rope-like locs. "Could it have been an accident?" he asks. "A bird, or a tree branch, or something?"
"Any bird hit that window hard enough to break it be a dead bird, and there's no bird out there," Sasha snaps. "And where the hell a tree-branch come from? There's no trees near enough, and it's not even breezy out."
"A coincidence, then?" Dane suggests. "Sometimes windows break from stress—heat and cold, a house settling..."
"Dane, get your head out your ass," Freya says, smacking him lightly on the arm. "Sasha damn near built this place herself, and she damn well knows what she's about."
Sasha nods. "These windows are dual-pane, UV resistant safety glass. They don't break easily."
"Why would someone attack the twins, though?" Julian asks quietly, running his fingers through Luna's soft curls. "They're just babies."
Both twins sit in his lap, playing with a pair of stuffed toys Sasha had brought down from the attic. One is a gray wolf, and the other is a white fox, just like me. A strange, warm feeling had filled my chest when Luca had reached for it and spoke one of his rare words: "Kit."
Dane's expression grows guarded, and he looks away from his mate, turning back to the window. "I don't know. And I don't want to draw conclusions without evidence."
"Is it safe to stay here, though?" Julian presses. "Should we get a hotel in town?"
Dane turns his way, frowning. "You really think a hotel in town would be safer than a house full of Wolves?"
"Tell that to your mom and dad," Julian mumbles.
"Well, what the fuck do you wanna hear, Julian?" Dane snaps. "We learned fuck all from the Sheriff, and—"
"Dane!" Julian cuts in, pressing each hand to one of Luna and Luca's ears, and squishing their heads against him to cover their other. "Seriously. Make an effort."
"They're babies, Julian—like you said. They don't know what I'm saying."
"They know more than you think."
"Fuks," Luna says, pulling at the little toy fox's ears.
"See?" Julian glares.
"She said 'fox.'"
"No, she didn't."
Maybe it's because he's not a Wolf, but I find Julian's ability to challenge his mate both astonishing and alarming. Not only is Dane seemingly more dominant, but he's an alpha, too. I tremble at the mere hint of displeasure in his tone, but Julian seems indifferent. He must be a prince among Fae, I reason—an alpha's equal in status, somehow.
To my further surprise, Dane backs down. "Fine," he says, relaxing his stance to signal his acquiescence. "I'll try harder, Julian. I promise."
Julian relaxes, too, lifting his eyes to his mate's with an expression that conveys pure love better than words ever could. "Thanks. I know it's the situation, and I'm sorry, too. I just... I don't understand."
"Join the club," Freya says, flopping down beside him on the sofa and reaching for Luna.
Monty tenses at my side, probably expecting the little girl to scream 'bloody murder,' again, as he calls it; instead, she giggles and begins playing with Freya's long hair.
Freya laughs as the baby tugs on her curls, then raises her eyes to Dane's, smile fading. "But seriously. I mean... Why would anyone attack our parents? They had to have the least enemies of any Pack. They've dedicated their lives to peace. And the Faebies? That makes even less sense."
Summoning what little courage I have, I speak up.
"It's b-because they're alphas," I say.
Dane turns his flaming amber gaze on me, and I flinch.
"They're what?"
"Y... your parents," I stammer. "Th... they're alphas. Alpha power is something that... that other Wolves... that they w-want."
"What do you mean?" he growls, and Monty loops a protective arm around me as I shrink beneath his glare,
"J-j-just that... alphas like my uncle—like Obadiah—or... or... others," I say, finding myself incapable of speaking Ferrault's name. "That's the power that they... that they... that..."
Monty rests a large, warm hand on my back, and I manage to get the rest of it out on a gasp.
"That's what they Hunt."
The alpha regards me with narrowed eyes for a moment, and shivers run down my back as I try to hold his gaze and signal my truthfulness.
Then he sighs and looks away, running a hand over his hair again and turning his attention to the broken glass once more.
"Well, that's a possibility, I guess. I hope we'll learn more when we interrogate those 'Outcasts,' Jake mentioned. Meantime, we better get this mess cleaned up. You get any pictures?" he asks, directing this question at Monty.
"Yeah, though I'm no crime scene photographer," he replies.
"Send 'em to me." Dane turns to Sasha. "We should block up this window. You got a hammer an' nails 'round here? A board or something?"
She lifts her brows at him, arms still crossed over her generous chest. "You forget who you're talkin' to, brother? Do I have a 'hammer an' nails?' I got a full-ass shop in my garage. And for your information, I already cut a piece of half-inch ply to size on the table saw and pre-drilled the holes. I know my way 'round a damn power tool. You don't gotta 'hammer an' nails,' me."
Dane blinks at her. "Uh... I didn't mean... I only..."
Sasha sighs, dropping her arms. "Sorry. I'm just a bit touchy, right now. Jake's been... a little... over-protective lately, I guess. But I mean, I'm a master artisan. I don't just make things. I make art, and I know my way around my own fuckin' shop."
"Lords of the hunt," Julian sighs, standing and taking Luna back from Freya. "If none of you can refrain from swearing in front of children, then I guess it's nap time."
He carries them up the stairs, one on each hip, Luca hugging the gray wolf and Luna holding the little white fox.
"Fuks!" she exclaims.
"Yes—fawks." he corrects, elongating the middle sound. "Like Kit, right?"
"Tit! Fuks!"
Julian sighs. "Yes, Kit is a fox."
As they disappear at the upper landing, I see the alpha's lips quirk with humor.
"He really loves them, doesn't he?" Sasha comments, looking after Julian's vanished form.
"Of course. They're his children," Dane says. "As they are mine—dearer than my life, and as dear to me as Julian himself."
Monty fidgets in his seat and rubs a hand over his short hair. "Did you tell him yet?" he asks in an undertone.
Alpha Dane casts him a glance and then sighs again. "No. Not yet."
"Tell him what?" Freya asks, glancing between the two.
Monty looks away, letting Dane decide what to reveal. He sits heavily in the spot Julian recently vacated, leaning back against the cushions and rubbing his hands over his eyes.
"They're alpha-born," he says. "The twins. If that's why someone targeted mom and dad... Luna and Luca might be targets, too."
For a moment, there's silence; then Sasha swears softly.
"Fuck. And Juju doesn't know?"
Dane shakes his head.
"Lords, Dane. You gotta tell him," Freya says, leaning forward. "For fuck's sake, he's a right—"
"I know," Dane snaps, making me jump. He takes a breath and goes on in a softer tone. "I know. Christ, I know. I just... I didn't realize that was even a factor, here. Now that I do, I'll tell him. I'll have to."
"You better," Freya says, leaning back in her seat. "They're his children, too."
"Gods, I know," Dane snaps, and there's enough alpha power in his tone to make us all jump—even Monty, this time. "I know," he repeats, more softly. "That's what frightens me."
Suddenly, it frightens me, too—though not for the same reasons.
Alpha Obadiah made no secret of his power; he abused it to the full every chance he got. Alpha Dane keeps his power hidden—untapped until the need arises. From the few tastes he's given me so far, I sense that power is immense. His 'alpha' might be the most potent of any living Wolf; maybe of any Wolf in living memory. And with half-fae children with prodigious untapped powers of their own...
Well, for Wolves like my uncle and Ferrault, they'd make tempting targets, indeed.