Novel Wave 15

15 

REINER 

Honestly, I was not expecting to be welcomed with open arms – but that seemed a little too 

much. 

Before I even knew it, Becks had slammed me against the wall with unprecedented violence 

and clasped a clawed hand around my neck: a low growl vibrated in her chest, and her eyes 

were glowing purple. 

Hmm. She could actually kill me right now. 

Rebecca had always been a powerful wolf – the only one not of Alpha blood in the entire pack 

who could stand up to me and occasionally beat me (and it’s not like I was exactly a 

pushover): that was the first time in my entire life that I truly, viscerally feared death. 

It was clear as day: Becks wouldn’t have the slightest problem, or qualm, in killing me. 

“Hello Becks,” I greeted her, attempting a smile – not that it was easy to speak, with that deadly 

necklace around my throat. I could feel the sharp, lethal tips of her claws pressing against my 

skin: one movement too many, and they’d sink in, piercing through my jugular vein. 

“What the f**k are you doing here?” she growled, slamming me more violently into the wall. 

She was definitely not in the mood for jokes and banter. 

Great. 

“I just want to talk,” I answered honestly. 

“We have nothing to say to each other,” she hissed, her eyes dangerously narrowed. 

“I beg to differ,” I objected. “Becks – really, I just want to talk.” 

“How the f**k did you find me?” 

“How do you think?” even though I’d decided to maintain as diplomatic and accommodating a 

line as possible, I could not hold back a subtle streak of sarcasm. “I have a nose, smartass. 

It’s a great city, but in the end…” 

“So you stalked me,” Becks hissed. 

“I looked for you,” I dissented. “I looked for you and my son. You can’t hold that against me.” 

Her eyes darkened even more, and I felt her claws tear through the first layer of skin. 

1/4 

15 

+5 Points 

– 

She would have done it she was so terrified of my presence that she was in complete murder 

mode. 

I had thought for a long time, while searching for her and the boy, about how to approach her – 

how to convince her that I was not a threat: because it was clear, from the way she had 

behaved at the stadium, that I terrified the hell out of her. Honestly, considering how highly the importance of a dynasty was held in our species, I couldn’t hold it against her: I knew full well, 

too, that if I went to the Council and told them she had my son, the kid would be ripped out of 

her arms and placed in mine in a matter of seconds. 

At least, that was what would have happened had I still been Alpha or with a slim chance of 

taking the title back. With Garrett being my older brother and backed by my mother, I was now 

as valuable as a half–breed. 

With Becks in that state, however, there was no time for words, or for a disquisition on the 

hereditary politics of werewolves: she was caught up in her emotions, her maternal instincts – 

so that was the language I was going to have to speak. 

To do so, however, it was imperative not to die. 

So, even though I hated doing it, I freed myself from her lethal grip: within a second, it was her in my place against the wall – only without a dangerous set of claws around her neck. And 

although I knew she’d hate me for that, I mind linked her through our bond, using it to make 

sure she felt what I was feeling. 

I’m not going to take him away from you. I’m not a danger. I just want to talk. I’m not going to 

take 

your son away from you. 

Finally, something gave way in her: unable not to recognize the absolute truth of my intentions 

and words, since she had access to my mind, the bloodlust in her eyes waned a little. 

Thank the Goddess. 

“It’s okay,” I told her, still holding her still. “Really. I just want to talk to you, Becks.” 

“MOMMY!” 

My heart sank and did a triple jump at the same time. 

There was only her apartment on that floor – and that voice… it was not the boy’s voice. 

It was a little girl’s voice. 

Rebecca closed her eyes – as she always did when she was cursing in her mind. 

*MOMMY I’M HUNGWY!” the little girl shouted again. “CAN YOU MAKE ME A SANDWICH?” 

214 

15 

8 Points 

“Coming, baby,” Becks said aloud. “I’m just finishing talking to the mailman.” 

She… 

Yes. Becky’s response to my unexpressed question was glacial. 

And there … 

No. There are no others. 

And although it hurt like hell knowing she had kept it from me, I couldn’t help but smile. 

Two pups. We had been blessed with two children. 

It was more than I had ever dared hope for. 

I’m busy now, Becks whispered. Meet me at the Italian restaurant on the corner of the street in thirty minutes. 

I couldn’t believe it: she had agreed. 

“MOMMYYY!” 

Clearly, our daughter did not like to wait. Just like her mommy. 

I suddenly felt light–headed. Our daughter. 

I never thought I’d ever get to say those two words. 

We had a daughter and a son. 

We were parents. 

All right, I replied. Fine, I’ll be there. 

Now leave, she hissed, pushing me away from herself. 

I nodded again. I felt dazed – as if I had just taken a blow to the head: confusion, joy, happiness, and sadness were swirling around in me like a tornado, and none could get the upper hand. 

Without uttering another word, Becks slipped past the front door: our minds were still 

connected – and I felt her shoving all of her anxiety and terror in a tiny corner of her mind as 

she recomposed herself, as she smiled at the children and went back into mom mode. 

Just the children, she warned me. We won’t talk about anything else. 

Okay, I replied, without asking any further questions – although that statement of hers had 

raised so many in me, along with an iron conviction: there was something that didn’t add up 

3/4 

with the way our story had violently ended – and I would find out what. 

13 

M 

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