Page 4 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

She looked between the screen and the males sprawled on the furniture. The one nearest her tossed the invitations on the table, then leaned over and high-fived another wolf as the hit replayed in slow motion. The males continued laughing and commiserating over the brutal hit.

A curious numbness drifted over her. As if on autopilot, she turned and walked away, crossing the foyer without a destination in mind. Behind her, the TV crowd’s roar mingled with the sound of the males’ laughter.

It wasn’t for her, but it didn’t matter. Her cheeks burned, and her chest grew tight. What a dumb idea, planning a party for herself. How desperate could she get?

She increased her pace, approaching a run as the murmur of voices faded and the only sounds in her ears were her heart beats and gasping breaths. She couldn’t go back the way she came. That would take her past the lounge area again. Fortunately, there was another staircase ahead—an old servants’ stair—that led back upstairs.

Back to the safety of her stupid, girly bedroom with its stupid decorations and stupid furniture.

She was so focused on getting to the stairs she almost collided with the tiny red blur that shot around a corner.

“Whoa!” Haley put up her hands.

The blur stopped, revealing a redheaded toddler wearing black high-top sneakers, a pink tutu, and a T-shirt that said “boss lady.”

Haley’s heart turned over. She sank into a crouch, putting her head on the child’s level. “Hey, Posey. Where’s your mommy and daddy?” It was a question just about everyone in the Lodge had asked at one point or another. Lily and Dom were excellent parents, but Posey was a handful and a half. She kept all the wolves in the Lodge on their toes.

Not that anyone minded. Children were such a rarity for their species, the child could have gotten away with murder.

She knew it, too.

The little girl’s face lit up. “Mama.”

“That’s right,” Haley said. Unable to help herself, she reached out and stroked a bright red curl nestled against a chubby cheek. “Where’s mama?”

Before she even finished her sentence, a frazzled-looking Remy rushed around the corner. He stopped and clutched at his chest. “Oh good. You’ve got her.”

Posey whirled. “Unka Emmy!” She raced to the big male and threw her arms around his legs.

He swayed but kept his balance, putting a large palm over the springy red curls. “Listen, pipsqueak. I thought we said no more running off?”

Still clutching his legs, the little girl leaned back and yelled, “Wace!”

“Nooo.” Remy shook his head. “No racing. Uncle Remy isn’t fast enough to keep up with you.”

Haley let out a huff of laughter.

Remy looked up, then gave her a self-deprecating grin. “I thought I was in good shape. Then I tried hanging out with a three year old.”

Haley straightened. “In your defense, Posey isn’t your typical three year old.”

“You’ve got that right.” He met the little girl’s gaze. “Nothing typical about you, is there, Posey Wosey?”

The red curls bounced as Posey shook her head enthusiastically. “Nope!”

Haley laughed again. “Where are Lily and Dom?”

“Baby doctor. They drove into Champlain this morning.” His gaze grew distant, and for a second he seemed tense—like he was concentrating hard on something. Then his expression cleared and he gave his head a little shake. “Dom says they’re in the waiting room now.” The distant look turned to bemusement. “Huh. My range must be improving. Normally, I can’t communicate with Dom this far away.”

“That has to cut down on your cell phone bill.”

“It’s convenient.”

“Max is okay with Lily seeing a human doctor?” As a rule, werewolves weren’t supposed to seek medical treatment in the outside world. As Haley understood it, subtle differences in their blood raised red flags on human medical tests. Besides, the species had Healers who could mend wounds and tend to the injured.

Remy lifted Posey into his arms and balanced her on his hip, making pink tulle poof around his body. “It’s just an ultrasound. Our pack Healer has an old machine. Dom insisted on getting a state-of-the-art test.”

A light bulb went off in Haley’s head. “He’s nervous about another pregnancy.” Who could blame him? Werewolves had a hard enough time producing one child. It was almost unheard of for a mated pair to have two. When they did, there was usually a big age gap between their offspring. Yet Lily was pregnant again just three years after Posey.

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