Page 18 of An Unending Claim

“All right,” she said as she settled against my father’s side and he curled his arm around her. “Tell us what you do know.”

I filled them in on everything I knew, and they were just as perplexed as I had been over Peyton’s aversion to the hive mind. She spoke as if she’d experienced it, but that would only happen if she’d been part of a pack. Panthers didn’t live in packs—in fact, most of them were just as Peyton had been before we met–loners, never staying anywhere long. Males were the biggest culprits, but even female panthers were often nomads, and if they had cubs, they grew up like army brats.

“Sometimes, I sense something more inside her. Almost as if she’s torn between two Peytons. One who longs for a home, a family, pack life. The other who enjoys her freedom and feels caged whenever she spends too much time in one place.”

“From her lifestyle, I’d assumed the free spirit ruled,” my father concluded. “But I’m guessing you feel differently.”

“At times,” I agreed. “Peyton is the most complex riddle I’ve ever encountered. And the first one I haven’t been able to decipher almost immediately in a dozen centuries.”

“Life isn’t a chess game, Nate,” my mom sighed. “She may be your queen, but there are no rules for life.”

My father nodded and scratched his chin again as he contemplated something. I waited, not only as a show of respect for my father and former Alpha, but because he was rarely wrong. I would take any help my parents could give.

“You suspect she might want a life with you, but doesn’t realize it?” he asked.

I nodded. “I’ve seen glimpses and sometimes, the things she says…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain the subtle hints I picked up in Peyton’s comments and actions.

“Nate, I know there’s a lot of shit going down right now. With the Council problems, running a pack, the murdered shifters, KBO, and Peyton’s serial killer, I am unbelievably proud of how you keep things together and remain strong—you are everything we ever hoped to raise you to be. So I don’t blame you if you’ve let certain things slip, particularly when you have no experience with them.”

I frowned, wondering what the hell he was talking about. With the staff I’d built and cultivated to be exactly what I needed, nothing slipped through the cracks for long.

“Oh, stop brooding, Nathan,” my mother said in an exasperated tone. “Nobody is perfect and you know as well as anyone that you haven’t been involved in more than a sexual relationship since you were in your fifties. Over the last millennium, I don’t think you’ve been with anyone for more than a weekend affair. You have no experience with relationships. It’s not a fault, it’s fact.”

That made more sense. I’d only been thinking about all of the situations I faced as a leader and warrior, which were not practice for dealing with a mate and a growing family.

“I don’t disagree,” I responded. “What are you suggesting?”

“Have you tried appealing to that side of her?” my father queried. “Show her what pack life will be like when she isn’t on the run from a serial killer, or here just because she’s carrying your pup. Have you introduced her to your packmates, taken her out to a gathering or even gone on a single date?”

“Fucking doesn’t count as a date,” my mother stated with a sniff.

I snorted from trying to keep down my laughter. Most people assumed my mother to be a sweet, loving, soft person, and they weren’t wrong. She was also an Alpha female, had served as a nurse in many wars, fought for women’s rights, been a revolutionary spy, and had so many other roles that took a tough-as-nails, badass woman and wolf. And when she felt like it, she could swear like a sailor. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t slap me upside the head for cursing in front of her or any other female.

My father worshipped the ground she walked on, and I’d never met her equal… until Peyton.

Their advice made sense, and if there was a pair of mates that I trusted when it came to my relationship with Peyton, it was them.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then my mother stood and walked over to me, perched on the arm of the deck chair next to mine. “There’s something else on your mind,” she stated.

I shook my head and my mouth curled up, not at all surprised she’d picked up on the other thing I had been grappling with.

“It doesn’t matter how many walls you erect, how serious you are, how emotionless, or anything else that makes it hard for people to read you, I will always be able to see the real you, Nate.” Her eyes twinkled. “It’s a gift we’re given as mothers. A bullshit meter when it comes to our children.”

That pulled a laugh from me.

She grinned, placing her palm on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “What is it?”

“Talking about it out loud makes me feel like a fucking teenager,” I grumbled. “I—oof!” I stopped talking when my mother’s hand pulled hard on my ear. “Ow. Shi—oot, Mom. That hurt.”

“Watch your language in the presence of ladies, Nathan.”

I threw a glare at my father as he laughed heartily, then gave my mother an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Is that where he learned to apologize?”

Our heads all swung in the direction of the sliding glass doors. Peyton stood in the opening, leaning against the jamb in another maxi sundress, this one deep blue with thin straps, a round neckline that showed off a hint of her mouth watering cleavage, and plunging sides held together with a transparent, stretchy material, leaving glimpses of the sides of her round breasts. The front hung loose, but it still molded around her baby bump.

Damn. She is so fucking gorgeous.

---