Page 28 of Father of the Wolf

“Athair. ‘tis Gaelic. The children call me Athair. No other name now.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of this statement, because it didn’t make any sense. Less so, because it had come as no more than a whisper since he was quickly fading to sleep. Had he said Athair? What children? His? With a slightly hysterical giggle, she thought, children or puppies? He had said children, hadn’t he?

It was all too much to believe. She must have overworked herself stitching him back into one piece, but never mind that. She still needed to check him over to be sure he was healing well.

She slowly opened the kennel run door and stepped into the cage. His breath was slow and steady, already deep asleep. To be on the safe side she smacked the metal bowl against the floor, producing a sharp ringing sound. He only twitched one ear. Hope crossed quickly and examined him to determine if his injuries had improved. They had. In fact, they looked much better. More like it had been a week or more instead of two days since she’d found him. Strange. Only his neck and shoulder wound still needed attention. She’d left a small tube in that one to allow drainage from the torn flesh. She could now see that it was unnecessary. After retrieving a few tools, she removed the small tube and cleaned up the area.

Although she’d finished her exam, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him yet. She found herself stroking his sable fur, marveling at the soft, silky feel to it. The color that she had first thought was gray was actually a beautiful light sable, a mixing of the lightest ginger with a soft brown. The hair closest to his skin was a soft cream. He was a magnificent animal.

If he was an animal.

She sighed. She needed to get back to the real world. Leaving the room, she was sure she must have imagined the whole conversation she’d had with him.

* * *

Dàn sat with his feet resting in the shallow stream next to their campsite. His body was still wracked by pain and his powers fluctuated wildly. If not for the others watching him so closely, he would have laid down in the flowing water and allowed the cool rivulets to run over him, to soothe him. He focused on the feel of the water lapping against his feet and ankles and tried to ignore the misery within the rest of his body.

He felt the power within him fighting for release, but he didn’t dare let go. As fragile as his control was, he would become a menace to the world. Dàn feared that part of himself so much that he hadn’t allowed it loose in centuries. It so wanted to be freed. His wounds hurt from the outside, but inside he was torn apart as well from ‘it’ seeking freedom. Of the two, it caused the greater damage.

Chapter Ten

Sense without reason

Moments of doubt

It was that evening, as Hope was washing the dinner dishes, that she realized she was completely mad.

“Pardon, I am very thirsty. Could you please bring me a drink?” This time the mental contact with the wolf felt almost natural, as if it had been there all the time, only now choosing to use words.

“What?” She gasped aloud as the words sank in and she realized the animal was again speaking into her mind.

“Juice would be nice.”

Deciding that she might as well go with the madness, she got a glass and filled it with orange juice. She could feel his thirst. It made her fill a second glass for herself before walking to the clinic recovery room.

“Thank you,” he said into her mind as she entered the room.

“I am not talking to you. Wolves don’t talk.”

He chuckled to her in a low, sexy tone that raised the hair at her nape. Unlike a voice heard aloud, this mental touch vibrated through her whole body.

“They don’t do that either.” The sensation that had passed through her left her off balance and started a strange ache she couldn’t quite name.

His next thought showed he understood just how much this situation unsettled her. “Would you rather I pretend to be only a wolf until I can leave?”

She thought about what he meant by the offer. They could act as if he was a nice, normal wolf, and once he was well, he would leave without causing any more strangeness in her safe little world. But her curiosity and fear won out. She needed to know more. What if he was one of those who had attacked the girl, or he knew who had done it? If he was actually a werewolf, he might have the answers she needed.

“Maybe that would be a good idea,” she said. “But I want to know what you are first.”

“A man, mostly.”

“What does that mean?” Was he being deliberately vague?

“I am not sure how to explain.”

Yep, he was being vague. Maybe if she asked him specific questions, she would get more details. “If you are a man, why do you look like a wolf?”

“I can change into wolf form.”

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