Last Wolf Hunting. Rhyannon Byrd
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love her in return. She told me that he was your father, and that after he left, she didn’t think she’d ever love again. And then she came back to the pack and set eyes on Dad, and that was all it took. She not only found her lifemate, but a man who returned her love and one who was more than happy to accept you and love you like his own daughter. She told me…everything.”
The center of Jillian’s chest hurt as if she’d been kicked, and her hand pressed against it in an instinctual move to hold in the rapid pounding of her heart. “I didn’t know that you knew,” she whispered, wincing at the scratchy sound of her voice. “You never said anything.”
“Mother asked me not to tell you that she’d told me, but I think it’s something that needs to be discussed.”
“Why?” she asked bitterly. “What good is going to come from it?”
“Because it’s affecting your life, Jillian.” Sayre tilted her head to the side, her blue-gray eyes luminous and bright in the silvery moonlight. “I think you’re taking Mother’s warnings to heart, aren’t you? Because of what happened to her, you’re afraid of following your heart. You’ve always been afraid.”
She frowned, knowing it wasn’t that simple. “There’s more to it than that, Sayre. I have my responsibility to the pack, which isn’t one to take lightly. The League has never made any secret about their feelings on the subject, and I have to agree with them. Jeremy isn’t the type to make a sacrifice for others. He would have demanded I stay away from Shadow Peak and abandon those who rely on me. And you know what kind of reputation he has. Any woman foolish enough to trust him is just that. A fool.”
Sayre gave her a sad smile. “You don’t believe in the power of love? In its strength?”
“You sound like a romantic,” she muttered, feeling too old and worn-out, as if her youth had been dried up in heartbreak and bitterness.
“I am, Jillian. I’ve seen love. I’ve seen commitment and fidelity and a metaphysical union of the souls.” Sayre gave a little grin. “However you want to describe it, it does exist. All you have to do is look at Mother and Father to see th—”
“He’s not my father.”
For the first time in her life, Jillian watched her sister’s face flush with anger. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again, because it makes you sound like an idiot. He loves you like his own. Anyone can see that.”
“I’m sorry,” she breathed out, the shaky timbre of the words betraying her real emotions. “You’re right. He does love me. I know that. I’m just…upset tonight, Sayre. This really isn’t a good time for me.”
“Jillian, the one who protects her heart from fear of loss ends up with no heart at all. Just an empty chest, because she has nothing to lose. I love you too much to see that happen to you. Look inside yourself. Jeremy may be bold and arrogant, but he’s a good person. I think you’ve let the warnings and fears of the League bleed into your heart and have judged him unfairly. How could you know what he’s willing to sacrifice for you, when you’ve never given him the chance? And you’re already in pain from being near him and not having him. What could be worse?”
“What could be worse?” Jillian repeated, wiping angrily at the hot, stinging wash of tears she could feel gathering at the corners of her eyes. “How about loving him and discovering that he doesn’t love me the same way?”
Sayre shook her head sadly, while the wind caught at her pale curls and tousled them around her fey face. “I’ve always thought you were the bravest person I know,” she said sadly, “but you sound like a coward, Jillian.”
Her mouth twisted into a wry expression that felt more like a grimace than a smile. “You’re probably right.” She took a deep breath, then jerked her head toward the direction of home. “Now, come on and let me walk you back. Mother is going to freak if you stay out past your curfew.”
When they reached their parents’ house, Sayre unlatched the gate, walked through and then closed it behind her. “He wants you, Jillian. And he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to give up once he sets his mind on something.”
“I know,” she murmured, recalling his earlier words. He wanted her for sex—nothing more. And he’d reminded her of the fact he meant to have her with those last whispered words in her ear.
Taking a deep breath, Jillian lifted her face to stare at the moon, as had become her habit over the years. She could lose herself in its soothing light, imagine she was some other woman…in some other life…with a heart that didn’t belong to a man she could never have. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“No, it’s not,” Sayre said softly. “What you’re afraid of is that you won’t be able to resist him forever.”
Jillian closed her eyes as the truth of those words spread through her. By the time she opened them, she stood alone under the milky glow of the moon, the only sound that of the front door closing softly behind her sister.
Chapter 5
Home.
Jeremy pulled his truck in to the familiar gravel driveway, the sight of the two-story house nestled among the autumn-colored trees sending him into a reeling tumble of memories. The massive weeping willow that he’d played in as a child still swayed like a giant swamp monster at the back corner, its long, leafy arms twisting wildly in the breeze. Even the fall of the curtains in the windows looked the same, the cedar facade as well kept as the day he’d left. The place hadn’t changed at all in the past decade, as if time had stood still. Maybe it had. Damn, the wounds that had been inflicted here still felt as fresh as if it had all happened yesterday.
Without a doubt, his pride still stung.
Amazing now to think that he hadn’t been back since things had gone south with Jillian, when he’d finally accepted the fact that she’d never choose him over her beloved pack… that she’d never trust him with her heart and her happiness. That night he’d moved his things to the Alley, and he’d never set foot in Shadow Peak again. Not until he’d gone before the League and submitted his Bloodrunning numbers. It had been late then, just like now, and the town had looked eerily the same after a decade, any changes softened by the concealing shadows of night.
Time to go inside, he thought, and yet, he didn’t move.
He swallowed the shaky feeling in his throat, and rested his hands on the steering wheel, amused at himself for being so emotional. He was a Bloodrunner, a hunter of killers, for god’s sake. He couldn’t afford to be sentimental and nostalgic, but damn if his chest didn’t feel tight at the thought of setting foot in the house again after all these years. His parents were at their beach property down in Florida, where they’d spent more and more time over the past decade, visiting with Jeremy at the Alley whenever they were home. When it’d been decided that he would be the one returning to the pack, he’d wanted to rent a cabin on the outskirts of town, but his mother wouldn’t hear of it. She’d wanted him home, in his own room, where she said he belonged, and refused to take no for an answer.
They’d always had faith in him, unlike some people, and for that Jeremy knew he was unquestionably lucky. But even after everything that had gone down, he didn’t hate Jillian. He’d wanted to, and he’d given it a hell of an effort—but the part of him that belonged to her, that linked them together, wouldn’t let him.
Instead, his hatred had latched on to the pack itself, on to the archaic laws that set the Runners apart because they weren’t what the others considered “perfect.” That created the social divide between the Alley and Shadow Peak, one based on racism and hatred, bitterness and distrust. A timeless, enduring fury surged through his veins, swift and brutal and vivid in its intensity, just like it had the day his father had first explained to him why he was considered “different” from the other children he knew. Why he and his small group of friends were picked on and called names by the residents of the Lycan town that was supposed to be their home…their family…their rock and their strength.
Purist