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“What? I don’t understand. Did I use the wrong term? My brothers are always telling me I’ve got a knack for saying the wrong thing.”

Wyatt chuckled and wrapped an arm around River’s shoulders, keeping him close. “No, not at all. No one has ever asked us such a thing.”

“We were usually just called wolf,” River said as his laughter subsided.

“Is that what you prefer?”

“We are werewolves,” Wyatt said.

“But I like that ‘loup-garou’ term. Makes us sound fancy,” River said with a smirk.

“It’s the French term for the werewolf myth, but the poor soul was supposed to have been cursed by a witch.” Bel frowned, slowly shaking his head. “You two…weren’t…cursed by a witch, right?”

River howled with laughter again, and Wyatt sighed. “You’re going to have to pull it together,” he muttered but without any real heat to his voice. Bel didn’t seem to mind River’s laughter, but Wyatt didn’t want to push his luck. “No, we weren’t cursed by a witch. To my understanding, it’s genetic. It’s passed along when both the mother and father are werewolves.”

Bel’s eyes widened, and he shifted in his seat, moving to the edge as if he were a sparrow preparing to take flight. “And if only one parent is a werewolf?”

“It is possible to inherit, but the chances are very slim.”

“Do you know if it’s more likely to pass along if the father is the werewolf? Or maybe the mother?”

Wyatt smiled. Bel was talking DNA and who might be the true carrier of the werewolf genes. At one time, he’d considered being a doctor. He’d gotten as far as a bachelor’s in biology, but things fell apart not long afterward.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if anyone has studied it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Bel paused, and his eyes darted over to River for a second before looking at Wyatt. “When you’re born, are you born as part of a litter of wolves or as a human baby?”

River started laughing so hard, he was shaking the couch. Wyatt groaned and shoved him away, but when he looked over at Bel, it was to find the vampire fighting back a smile. He’d done that on purpose, though Wyatt suspected he still wanted an answer to his question.

“Human baby,” Wyatt replied when he was sure he could speak without laughing himself. “But we do have a higher than average rate of twins and triplets among our kind.”

Bel’s eyes widened, and Wyatt was sure he wanted to ask for actual data on their birth rates. The vampire was proving to be a sponge for information. Every little bit Wyatt said, he soaked up and still wanted more.

The questions continued. Wyatt noticed that for every two or three serious questions, Bel slipped in something to make River chuckle or laugh. Some of the tension that had been in both Bel and River seemed to disappear until the food arrived.

While Wyatt and River set up the massive spread of food in the kitchen, Bel slipped away for a moment. When he returned, he had a well-worn notebook in hand and a couple of pens. He continued to ask questions, but he slowed down, allowing them to eat while he made copious notes. Wyatt didn’t miss that Bel wasn’t asking some very obvious questions that seemed to interest most people—such as their fast rate of healing. Was he avoiding the topic out of deference to River’s obvious unease about the vampire?

But even that was appearing to fade a little. More than once, River coaxed Bel into trying some bite of food. Even offering him something off his own plate. Not a small gesture from a werewolf, though he doubted that Bel realized it. Probably why River felt safe doing it.

Nearly an hour later, River pushed back from the center island where they’d sat on tall chairs and sighed happily. He patted the new little bulge in his stomach and Wyatt had to agree. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this full. Or tasted so many flavors. So many wonderful spices he’d missed while being stuck in wolf form.

“I don’t think I can move,” River groaned. “I could just curl up on the floor right here and sleep.”

“Thank you, Bel. That was a wonderful dinner.”

Bel blushed again, looking down at his notebook and a piece of garlic bread he’d been nibbling on. “Oh, that’s okay. River did most of the ordering. He has wonderful taste. And it’s the least I could do. You’ve provided me with such interesting and valuable information.”

“Well, we couldn’t have you going through life believing we were cursed by a witch,” River teased.

Bel rolled his eyes and smiled as he rose from his chair. “You both are probably exhausted. It’s already after midnight. Let me show you to the guest room.”

“We should clean this up first,” Wyatt offered, already pulling together some of the empty containers.


Tags: Jocelynn Drake Lords of Discord Paranormal