In a grudging tone, Munro said, “No’ terrible advice.”
“So I understudied with each hunter to gain new skills. I learned all about weaponry and developed more effective traps. I worked twice as hard as anyone else, proving myself.”
Had she dreamed of a wider existence? Of course! She’d fantasized about lying abed and reading for an entire afternoon. Or gift-shopping for loved ones in a big city. She’d wished she could travel the world.
She had forever longed for something out of reach, something nameless, and had felt incomplete without that unidentified want. She’d once confided this to Jacob. He’d thought that she might be yearning for children or that she’d been missing her parents.
Yet she had always suffered that incompleteness—even before she’d grown old enough to think about having her own family and even before her parents had died. She’d thought everyone felt that way.
She glanced over at Munro, found him studying her face, as if he might discern all her thoughts. She gave an uncaring shrug and said, “Luckily, my hunters recognize a good thing when they see it.”
His voice went low. “A talent I possess as well.”
“Yet you plan to take me from a life I’ve worked hard to create with no care about how I feel.”
He parted his lips, closed them, then clenched his jaw. Did he do that whenever he was biting back words? Finally he said, “Why does your life have to be filled with misery and risk? Who made that decree?”
Jacob had posed a similar question this very night. “I told you, fighting evil is my noble responsibility, passed down through generations of my family.” When she was young, all she’d wanted to do was work with the circus’s horses. But she’d assumed the mantle after her beloved mother and father had perished.
“Responsibility? You mean obligation. One you never asked for.”
He wasn’t wrong. “But it’s one I’ve risen to meet.”
“How can that groom of yours stand for you to be in jeopardy over and over?”
“My husband knows that I’m capable and level-headed.”
Munro stabbed his fingers through his hair. “You’re in love with him?”
In love? She didn’t want the wolf to doubt how committed she was, so she told a partial truth: “I love Jacob.” He’s my partner. We see eye to eye on everything.
The Lykae scowled at her wedding ring. His fist clenched, as if he’d just stopped himself from yanking the band off her finger. “His name is fitting. He is a cub, no’ yet a man.”
How dare this immortal! “Jacob Howard is the best man I know.” She was lucky to have him. Jake was thoughtful, self-sacrificing, and brave, and their lives fit together seamlessly. For years, he’d risked his life to fight the darkness.
Unlike this wolf—who was a part of the darkness.
Munro choked back his jealousy, refusing to accept that she’d given her heart to another. Lykae revered matehood; fate was on his side. Kereny was simply too young to know her true feelings. “Why marry now? Is your biological clock ticking for bairns?” That I will give you.
“My what?”
“Biological clock. Some say a mortal’s innate need to have pups—children—strengthens as you get older.” An abhorrent thought arose. “Do you have a child on the way?” He didn’t scent a pregnancy, but it might be too early for even him to detect.
She drew back her head. “Of course not. Jacob is an honorable man. He refused to consummate our relationship until we wed.”
A piece of luck for Munro. Yet then he scowled. “The cub refused, but you were down to fuck?”
“What does that—oh!” As the answer came to her, she glared. “That’s none of your business.”
“Do you no’ want bairns?”
“At present, I want my crates of grenades delivered on time tomorrow morning.”
Which would be too late. By now, Munro perceived the crashing footfalls of those newlings as they neared. Unless they came closer, she couldn’t hear them, would never know they’d soon descend on the circus.
“What about you?” she asked. “Any children?”
Even after all these years, his grief for Tàmhas was raw. Da, how did this happen? How?
Munro shook off the memory of his son’s last night alive and skirted that subject. “My brother and I have two wards, and I’m a fond packmate to bairns at Glenrial.”
“Come, now. Over the ages, you must have sired litters of pups.”
He let her insult slide. “Canna sire bairns with anyone but my fated female.” He eyed her meaningfully. “But I’ve long wanted them.” Just thinking about her big with his child made his shaft pulse in his pants.
His eyes went heavy-lidded as he imagined pumping his seed deep into her womb, impregnating her. His beast clamored inside him for such a scenario.
“Without me, you will never have offspring?” Her brows drew together with confusion. “A Lykae pregnancy would kill a human like me. Merely lying with you could kill me.”
He blinked to attention, haunted by her words. “Aye, which is why I plan to make you undying.”
TEN
“Become an immortal?” Ren shot to her feet. “You’d murder me?”
The wolf looked confounded. “Murder?”
“The circus once had a Book of Lore. So I know all about species transformation.” The treasured tome had been destroyed in a fire demon attack years ago, but Vanda had passed down its knowledge. “Everything from a Lykae’s bite to a ghoul’s scratch can potentially turn a mortal, but the catalyst for transformation is always death.” Ren didn’t dread falling in battle, but her fear of getting turned loomed ever large in her mind. “You don’t want me, wolf. You want a female Lykae. Go find one.”
“I want you immortal. The rest is just details.”
She began to pace. “You plan to bite me and make me a crazed newling? You’re as insane as they are.”
He stood as well. “We would find a way to control the rabidity newlings face, or we’d investigate a different species. And I will never bite you. Humans seldom resurrect.” A shadow crossed his expression. “Females even more rarely.”
“How easily you talk about stealing my species from me.” He wasn’t even sure what creature she would become, just had decided she couldn’t remain mortal! He thought she was his to change by right. “If you’re so keen for us to be the same, why don’t you figure out how to turn yourself human?”