Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Wolf’s Secret Twins Chapter 4

Virginia

Sara was supposed to be dead.

I had left her behind in Atlanta with everything else, family included. Life hadn't been very appealing once she was in the dust, but I had to go on. I had to keep my chin up. I had to keep swimming just like I told my kids to do every single morning. Memories wavered nearby, edging my awareness, reminding me there were things that didn't like to stay dead once they were buried. Truth had always been one of those things, and the truth was that hearing my name in the meeting yesterday had been jarring. Sara. Such unfamiliarity lingered in those two syllables. Sara? I hardly knew her.

The shell my skin housed had yet to receive much comfort aside from the visits I had made to Blake and Dr. Windsor. Other than those two, no one else had really minded me except for Bentley. And Bentley was just plain bad news.

I shuddered as I swept my hand over my left bicep. His grip had impressed my muscle, a bruise lingering somewhere beneath the surface that I wasn't sure would pop up or not. Ice would help. But the ice machine seemed so far away from where I stood near the

counter.

Spanish tile surrounded light tan cabinets with teal accents. Silver appliances shimmered with a misty quality from the morning light cresting through the window over the sink. Funny to think that this place had once felt like home. It had been a fortress at some point as well, providing shelter from strange rumors and prying eyes.

Another shudder forced me to bow my head toward the fridge. Had I fooled anyone by running here? It had been five years since my trek from Atlanta. Adhara and Anthony probably didn't remember hopping on the train or stealing that van. I'd worn wigs the whole way. I'd changed our clothes. I'd hidden my tattoos.

Everything I did was for them, to protect them. If they did remember that fateful night, then they didn't mention it, though I heard Anthony whimpering in his sleep every so often. It made me sick to think my sweet twins were still suffering in their minds. Tears stained my face before I could stop them. I didn't even bother wiping them away. All I could think about was my babies-and how Bentley had tried to throw us right back where we came from. Anger swelled in my upper body, rising to my face, burning the tears stinging my cheeks.

Never again, I swore. I'm never letting that happen ever again.

Small feet padded up the carpeted hallway to the kitchen. I heard it in time to flip around toward the sink, popping the faucet on to cover the hiccup that was threatening to break through. I splashed my face with cool water repeatedly, ignoring the deeply rooted sensation that I wasn't going to be able to face my children bravely.

Nope, that wasn't an option right now. They needed to get ready for school. They needed their mother to make them lunch.

"Mama?" Oh, Anthony's voice was so sweet in the morning, always laced with leftover sleep. He touched my wrist. "You didn't sleep well."

My heart broke. A ten-year-old kid shouldn't be trying to help his mother like this. He had other things to worry about-like studying bacteria under a microscope like he'd done all last summer. I swore I never saw a kid more interested in science than my dear Anthony.

I wiped my face with the kitchen towel. "I'm fine, sweetie."

Adhara appeared to my left with a bowl of cereal. She set it on the counter near me. "No, you're not."

"It's fine. I'm fine, sweetie."

But her face told me I wasn't good at bullshitting my own kids. Laughter cracked through my façade. Just a few quick huffs got through, and then it was back to business, back to wiping my face and sighing, back to the kitchen table where Anthony pulled out a chair for me and Adhara refilled my coffee.

Anthony grabbed the juice jug from the fridge while Adhara got two more bowls of cereal. I watched my kids move around like they hadn't just found me crying in the kitchen. Well, it was normal at this point, wasn't it? Dr. Windsor said it would take time to heal, and that sometimes those wounds would occasionally pick themselves back open.

She had recommended a therapist who was a crane shifter, but I wasn't interested in having my brain picked. Besides, that would mean leaving the ranch, and I didn't exactly want to do that any more often than was necessary. It was bad enough that I had to work at The Greasy Jester. Some nights, I wondered if it was worth doing. Until Fred walked in, of course.

"Mama, do you want the man from yesterday to walk us to school?" Adhara asked as she sat beside me.

I paused while reaching for my spoon. "What? Why would you say that?" "Because he's sitting on the porch."

Just then, the circular swing on the front porch squealed, the chains rattled, and the floorboards creaked. I would have had a heart attack if my daughter hadn't said anything, and I would have probably grabbed the sawed-off shotgun I kept in the coat closet tucked on the high shelf behind the safety box.

I stood up. "Eat your breakfast, dear."

"Yes, Mama," the twins replied in unison.

A shadow passed in front of the left-side living room window. Beyond the silky white curtains would be the open road, the red mailbox, and Mrs. Pots across the street. She knew about the shotgun in my closet. So did my kids. Nothing got past my children, and I refused to treat them like they weren't capable of handling certain bits of knowledge, especially when it came to self-defense.

Life was short and unpredictable. They had to be prepared to meet whatever the future brought-with or without me.

As I approached the door, fear and rage melted from my shoulders. Excitement stirred in my gut as I reached for the knob, ears prickling with what felt like a strange anticipation that I had been retaining all night. Had I been wanting Slater to show up here in the darkness like he'd done once upon a time? Maybe. But I wouldn't admit that to myself just yet.

I should open the door and tell him to go home, I thought as I slid the bolt lock out of place. Yeah, that's good. That's strong. Boundaries are good.

I returned the lock back to its place and went to the window. On the other side of the sheer fabric, the shadow paced. His boots hardly made a sound on the wood, mostly the creak and wheeze of the porch came through. Slater could be quiet when he wanted. He'd been trained to do such things by...

Well, it didn't matter by who at this point.

After gently pushing the curtains aside, I unlocked the window and opened it. "Shoo, get out of here."

Slater froze, his eyes locking on mine instantly.

And then all I saw were stars. Light blue with white streaked the dark skies where we'd once stood underneath night's canopy just to witness a shower of comets. Those were his eyes right now, so wide and articulate that I thought they would swallow me up. Ancient oceans couldn't have scared me more than the current intensity of his gaze.

At me-he was staring at me like that.

Why?

I gripped the windowsill. "Did you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Miss Gin and Tonic."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't drink much anymore."

"Why's that? You used to be a loaded pistol way back when."

"Way back when what?" I didn't mean to snap, but the way my stomach flipped disturbed and intrigued me. It was too early for messes and memories.

A critical look glazed his eyes. "We used to be in the same pack, you and I."

"We're still in the same pack, dingus."

He chortled. "I reckon that's true enough."

"You can turn down the southern charm, Slater. I'm not one of your pickups or whatever."

"And how do you know that?"

Tension crackled in the air around us, evident by the breeze that swept in circular waves across the porch and around Slater. The wind brought tattered leaves, twigs, and an assortment of other things-a lone sheet of crumbled paper and a plastic bag. Slater caught the trash without so much as blinking, crumpled it up even more, and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.

The motion dragged my eyes to his snug jeans and his junk. Gods, I hated the way my mouth watered just thinking about his physique. I knew he was ripped under that muscle shirt, and I knew his taste, and I knew his shape, length, thickness...

I cleared my throat and shrugged my shoulders. "What are you doing out here, Slater?"

"Watching."

"For what?"

He nodded toward the road. "I wanted to make sure your little friend didn't come sniffing around again."

Consider my heart warmed over. "Alright."

"Alright?"

Plates clinked in the sink. The faucet ran. The twins were done with their breakfast, and they were probably gathering their things for school.

I stood up. "I have to take the kids up the road."

"I'm going with you."

I glared at him. "Like hell you are."

He drew closer to the window, dropping to his knees in half a second and peering through the mesh like he'd been looking for me for the last ten years. Energy spilled from him like water tumbling off a cliff. "Damn it, Ginny. You don't have to be stubborn about it. Until I speak to the alphas, I'm going with you everywhere. Is that clear?"

Relief. Confusion. Anxiety. Which one would my body choose?

How about all of the above? I rubbed my forehead, trying to think things through. But there wasn't much time to think things through when the minutes ticked away the time and my kids were already heading toward me. How about no time for any of them? I shot Slater a playful smirk. "Gee, even to the bathroom?"

His face darkened with a familiar look I didn't want to acknowledge. "You just worry about yourself there, Miss Denton."

If the knot in my throat got any bigger, I wouldn't be able to breathe. And it wasn't panic or terror that brought it there. It was sheer passion waiting for its chance to appear, words unspoken that had been left in the past with Sarah Walsh. Letters unwritten. Phone calls unanswered.

Sara was in the past. Slater had to stay there too.

But how could I do that when he was standing right in front of me?

Adhara touched my shoulder. "Ready, Mom."

"Alright, buggies. Let's get moving."

Anthony shrugged his backpack over his shoulders. "Is Mr. Slater coming with us?"

"Yes," I blurted. Dang it, now I can't say no. I gestured to the door. "Yes, let's get moving before everybody crowds up the streets."

After securing the window and sliding on my Chucks, I guided my kids out the door and past the watchful Slater. He smelled of vetiver and amber mixed with a certain musk that came from sleeping outside. The scent went right to my knees. I had to catch myself on the column of the porch before I could get to the stone path leading to the road.

Slater caught my lower back. "Easy now."

"I know how to walk."

"If memory serves, there were times when you forgot."

A sharp breath pushed me forward. I tried to stay as far away from him as possible, keeping to the left side of the road as he kept to the right. Doors opened and curtains slid aside. Some windows had blinds that parted as we passed by.

Yep, that made sense. Everybody wanted to get a good look at the chick who had lied about her origins and blended in with their pack. They probably didn't trust me. Even worse, I had the guy next to me who had made a mess of things way back, the one who should have been the first to reject me.

Yet he was walking with me.

Make it make sense, I thought. I mean, it's not like he knows about the twins.

Anthony trotted up next to Slater and took his hand. "Mr. Slater, how do you know my mom?"

Slater raised his eyebrows at me. "Oh, we knew each other a while ago."

"How long?" Adhara asked.

I rubbed the back of my neck, struggling to get the words out. "Ten years."

"How come we never saw you before, Mr. Slater?" Anthony swung their entwined hands. "I mean, Mama hasn't mentioned you."

"I'm sure she hasn't," Slater said with a chuckle. "She's an old friend. We used to be in the same pack."

I sighed. "We are in the same pack."

Anthony hummed curiously. "Were you in the Silent Pride?"

They remember more than I thought.

Fear gripped me as I rushed to grab Anthony and Adhara, moving them quickly toward the road that would take them to school. Just around the corner, a few more paces, then we would be there. And I would be free of Slater because he would have no reason to walk me back.

"Alright, you're going to be late," I lied as I walked briskly. "Come on-pick up those feet-yes, that's right. March!"

Adhara and Anthony laughed as they fell into a military stride with me. Anything to distract them. Anything to keep Slater from asking questions.

Anything to keep him from knowing the truth.

Miss Elwyn stood at the door of the school in a ruffled vintage dress made of sunflower print and matching yellow heels. As she pushed her round glasses up her nose, she beamed and waved. The twins ran off to greet their teacher. For a moment, bliss washed over me. It was just another day in paradise.

"Deceiver."

My heart choked as I searched the grounds to see where that word had originated. Slater came up to my right side and touched the small of my back. Such a small gesture shouldn't have meant anything to me. We weren't mates. He had rejected me ten years ago. He didn't owe me any allegiance or protection.

But he did it anyway.

"I could use some coffee," Slater said as he turned me away from the group of parents gathering at the entrance of the school. Their weary eyes followed me. "Let's get you home."

Home? That was a silly word to use here. This wasn't my home.

It never had been.

***

Fresh coffee brewed in the machine as I folded and unfolded my hands on the table. Slater sat next to me with a lock of hair falling into his eyes, the same white-blond that I had tried to match so many times with bleach until I fried my hair. Thinking of it made me thread my fingers through my own hair, now onyx with pink tips.

"I like the pink," he remarked in a low voice. "Cute."

"My customers like it too."

He perked up. "Customers?"

"At The Greasy Jester. Customers. I work behind the bar."

One slow nod later, he was studying me like I was some kind of experiment.

Well, did he have anything to say about that? Or was he just going to keep staring?

I took a shaky breath. "I could use some coffee right about now."

Mechanically, he went to the counter and prepared our coffee. My surprise must have registered when he set the mug in front of me because he gave a quick laugh and then stroked the back of my head. "There are things I can't forget, Ginny." "Yeah, well..." It was best to let my hope die. "We're not supposed to be around each other."

"Has that ever stopped us before?"

Oh no, he couldn't go around saying things like that to me. It wasn't fair. We weren't even on a level playing field at this point. His family was established and respected. Mine had been publicly rejected.

We weren't the same. "No, I guess it hasn't."

I slurped my coffee. More memories came up from the depths of my soul. The truth bubbled up in my throat, ready to spew out onto the table, ready to rock his world with a ten-year-old secret-or rather, two ten-year-old secrets.

I rubbed another worry crease into my forehead. "Listen, about this guardian nonsense-"

"What were you doing with the likes of the Silent Pride?"

I took a shuddering breath. "I don't want to talk about it, Slater."

"You don't exactly get to choose whether or not you talk about it."

My fist clenched under the table. "You're not about to force me to do anything, Slater. I said, I'm not going to talk about it right now, and you'll do well to leave it alone. You understand?"

Those eyes turned frigid with suspicion and irritation. But he didn't push me. He didn't try to peck the truth from me like a starving bird trying to grab the last bits of meat from roadkill. He leaned back, gulped some of his coffee, and dutifully nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Gods, that was unnecessary. He didn't need to be formal, and he certainly didn't need to give off that macho guardian energy that made me want to jump on top of him. My knees wobbled at the idea of straddling his lap right now and taking him for a ride. For old time's sake. And nothing more.

I cradled my coffee and shrugged. "Sorry, I don't mean to bite. It's just-"

"It's just my family ran your family away from the Frostcrown pack region."

"Yes, that's..." I squinted at him. "That's correct. I don't think I've ever heard somebody say it like that."

He gestured vaguely to the table. "A lot of folks around here just want rumors, not the truth. I know what happened, and so do you. No point in beating around the bush."

"So, you're not mad?"

"Oh, darling," he said with a dark chuckle. Despite the laugh, the humor never reached his eyes. They remained as icy as they had been when he'd first realized who I was during that meeting. "I'm absolutely livid. We just haven't talked about it yet." I gulped.

That solved the mystery of why he wanted to chaperone me everywhere. It wasn't to protect me.

It was to make sure I didn't do what my granddaddy had done.