“That was nearly twenty years ago, Sonia,” McGoven grumbled. “But yeah, I remember.”
“Fred Connors was made during that time. One of the victims. That just makes everything that happened with that poor girl far creepier.”
“Yeah, but Loren’s eighteen, almost nineteen. She was born long before the bastard was exiled, but after he would have been turned.”
“It’s quite the mystery,” Sonia admitted. “But that isn’t all. I never realized it until now, but given that Fred Connors was turned so long ago. Bill, that means that the Alpha who welcomed him into the pack was—”
“Lukas,” Bill said tightly. Loren vaguely recognized the name. Micha had mentioned it.Lukas, the old Alpha.
“Yes,” Sonia said softly. “If the man did father a daughter in that time, the Alpha would have known. There is no way he wouldn’t have. I’ve tried to probe Lukka for what I can, but he hasn’t exactly been welcoming of me as of late.”
“I’m sorry, Sonia,” he said. “I’ve gotten you into this mess. I didn’t even stop to think how hard this must be for you.”
“Don’t apologize. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. But… I want you to think about what I said. Not because of me, or Loren, or anyone else. I want you to think about your future. What doyouwant? If it’s to be on the outside for the rest of your life, fine. I won’t like it, but it will be your choice. But if thatisn’twhat you want... If you’ve been living this way out of some misplaced sense of punishment—”
“It’s late,” Bill said. “You should head back if you want to get there in time to put your plan into action.”
“Don’t sound so skeptical. You were always destined for more than life as a wayward rogue, and you know that. If it takes committing treason to prove it to you, well… I’ll just have to do that, won’t I?”
“Call me as soon as you get back, or when you have any updates,” Bill said. “I mean it, or I’ll go there myself to check on you. Promise me.”
Sonia sighed. “I promise to call as soon as I can. But you make me a promise in return, huh? Talk to Loren. Tell her the truth. Can you do that?”
Loren heard the thud of a heavy set of footsteps. “Goodnight, Sonia.”
Sonia’s voice was barely audible. “Goodnight.”
Loren sensed rather than saw her retreat. The same way she knew that Bill lingered behind. At first, she suspected that he’d caught her lurking in the shadows, but as the seconds ticked by, she realized that he might have been savoring the quiet.
Whatever was happening was taking a toll on him. He disguised it well while around Micha and Naomi but seemingly alone, he groaned, and Loren could picture him leaning against the barn door as the weight of the world bore down on his shoulders.
A part of her was tempted to lurk and savor his nearness. At the same time, something about it felt voyeuristic. Wrong.
Clearing her throat, she stood and crept toward the barn’s entrance.
“Loren?”
He was there to meet her in the doorway. Even in the darkness, she could see how tightly his jaw was clenched. For perhaps the first time ever, she had caught him off guard.
“What are you doing out here?” Whatever he saw in her expression made him sigh. “Apparently, you’ve been here long enough to overhear that, huh?”
“You didn’t tell me.” She didn’t mean to sound so accusatory. “About my dad—Fred Connors. I mean… You don’t have to. I can understand. I just don’t want to be in the dark, please.”
His upper lip twitched in a way that might have betrayed guilt. She couldn’t tell. Abruptly, he marched toward the paddocks, and a sharp tilt of his head was her only clue to follow.
He moved to where a lone lightbulb affixed to the side of the barn cast a puddle of illumination. There he faced her, an eyebrow raised.
His nostrils flared, sensing the air. At first, she wondered if he had picked up the scent of one of the intruders. He didn’t stiffen in alarm, though. Slowly, his eyes widened as if he’d come to some startling revelation.
“I never noticed until now,” he said softly. “I can pick up your scent from miles away. But here? I can’t smell you at all among the horses.”
She resisted the urge to sniff herself, unsure if his observation was a compliment or an insult. Yet another example as to how she was different, perhaps?
The longer he watched her, another puzzling detail seemed to creep to the forefront of his mind. “I’m sure you heard what Sonia said. About your mother?”
She nodded, suddenly overwhelmed by grief she didn’t expect. It hurt. Not knowing more about the woman who gave birth to her. All she had left were a few scattered memories, none of them clear enough to cherish.
“What does that mean?” she asked.