Eileen Wilks - Mortal Sins

“Yes, but . . . but then it seems like we can’t ever be sure. We can’t know how to act or what to do so we’re safe.”

“Life isn’t safe.” It was a hard lesson, but one that lupi believed children must learn. “The best we can get is ‘safe enough for now.’”

“I know, but . . .” Toby’s voice trailed off unhappily.

“But knowing that in your head is different from knowing it in your gut.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” It wasn’t quite raining. It wasn’t not raining, either. The air was filling with a fine mizzle that turned it as gray as the sky.

Children weren’t good with shades of gray. Rule hunted for a way to make Toby understand “safe enough.” “Your wolf is probably too deeply asleep to counsel you, but perhaps you could imagine what he would say about fear and safety.”

“If I could Change,” Toby began, then stopped, scowling. “I was gonna say that my wolf wouldn’t be afraid, but wolves can get hurt, too, so that doesn’t make sense. Does your wolf know he can be hurt?”

“Oh, yes.”

“But he isn’t afraid about it?”

Rule bit back the need to tell Toby the answer he wanted the boy to find. Some answers had to come from inside. “Wolves feel fear. What do you imagine your wolf would be afraid of?”

“Guns, maybe. Bigger wolves, especially if they’re mad at him. Things that could blow him up.” Toby thought a moment, his eyes unfocused, as if he might be consulting the sleeping wolf. “Oh. That’s all now stuff, isn’t it? Not maybe stuff.”

Rule smiled. “That’s right. Wolves fear immediate threats, not the possible threats the mind conjures.”

“So is the wolf right? We shouldn’t be afraid of stuff that isn’t happening now?”

“Mostly right. The world is complex, and wolves aren’t good at abstract risks or multiple contingencies, so the wolf may counsel the man on the present, but the man must counsel the wolf on the future. The wolf needs the man just as the man needs the wolf.”

Toby said glumly, “I’m not a man yet, and my wolf is asleep. I don’t know what’s a real threat and what isn’t .”

“Your job is to learn. My job is to protect you . . .” Rule’s voice drifted off as the green sedan approached again. “To protect you while you learn.”

Toby looked at the car, too, this time. “That’s Alex. How come he isn’t stopping? Is he a threat now, because of you taking the whole Leidolf mantle and all?”

Rule knew his body had announced his alertness, and Toby had noticed. “He may be angry, but he won’t hurt me or attempt to. I’m his Rho. However, he could be a future threat to me or mine or to plans I’ve made.” He stood, glancing at his son. “I need you to go inside now. Not because there’s danger, but because Alex is waiting for that. It’s a matter of respect.” He paused and smiled in spite of himself. “And tell Lily she may as well come out. As a Chosen, her presence won’t signal disrespect.”

“Okay, but Nettie’s not gonna like it if Lily gets out of bed.”

“She’s already up, I’m afraid.”

The front door opened. “I may not have your hearing, but I’m not deaf,” Lily said.

“Also, you opened the window earlier.”

“Well, yes. I saw Alex circling the block.” She came out on the porch—barefoot, wearing an old T-shirt and jeans . . . with nothing beneath the shirt. She hadn’t taken time for a bra. His body signaled strong approval for her haste.

She looked good. She looked wonderful, but then she always did. More important, she smelled healthy. But she wasn’t supposed to be up.

“So how come she doesn’t show disrespect and I do?” Toby asked as he moved reluctantly toward the door.

“Later.” Alex had pulled up to the curb. Rule heard the silence when the engine shut off. “I’ll explain later, but basically it’s because she’s a Chosen. Lily, you should sit down.”

Toby sighed and closed the door behind him. Lily moved up beside Rule. “I’m so rested I could scream,” she said. “That won’t keep Nettie from putting me back in sleep once she finishes yelling at me for getting up, but I’m okay. You can prop me up if you want to,” she added in the way of one making a concession.

A wave of feeling rose up, cresting tsunami-high and breaking over him in a wash of love. It had never and would never occur to her to obey him. She did what she did out of choice, and his Chosen chose him over and over.

He accepted her suggestion, sliding an arm around her waist to support her as much as she’d allow . . . while she supported him.

Equals. It wasn’t a concept that came readily to a lupus, but with her, he dealt always with a sovereign power, one that would neither bow to him nor insist on his submission. She was a gift freely given.

A thought floated in as he watched Alex start across the lawn. It wasn’t the first time this thought had come to him, though originally it had been so alien he’d given it little heed. But more and more the idea compelled him, drawing him with its rightness. So strange, yet so right.

So difficult, too, he acknowledged wryly, brushing lips across Lily’s hair. He strongly suspected his nadia would be among the difficulties. But what was life without difficulties?

He turned his full attention to the one who approached.

In the gray drizzle, Alex’s damp skin gleamed like melted chocolate. He wasn’t a tall man—Rule had three inches on him—but he was broad, and every bit of that breadth was muscle.

Rule had seen Alex fight. He was trained, strong, and quick, a formidable opponent in either form. Rule had spoken truly when he told Toby that Benedict thought highly of Alex’s skill.

Rule was trained, strong, and quick too, however. And he had one advantage Alex lacked: he’d been trained by Benedict.

“What are we expecting?” Lily murmured very low.

“To learn in what manner he acknowledges his Rho.” A Challenge, most likely. There were other ways to formally recognize a new Rho, but Rule accepted that he’d forfeited the more peaceable options when he killed Victor Frey.

From this man, at least. Rule wouldn’t tolerate Challenges from other Leidolf. But Alex had been Frey’s Lu Nuncio, and was entitled to express his outrage, so Rule would accept without using the mantle. Better to allow the man to express his anger honorably . . . though Rule had best win the Challenge.

Alex stopped at the foot of the porch steps. He tilted his head the exact fraction necessary to meet Rule’s eyes. Leidolf’s mantle stirred in Rule’s gut, edgy, wanting to answer the implicit challenge in that steady gaze.

Rule restrained it. Neither man spoke.

Alex broke the silence with four terse words. “I greet my Rho.” Abruptly he dropped to his knees—then lowered himself awkwardly to his stomach. He lay flat, fully prostrated, on the damp grass.

Astonishment gripped Rule so hard it took him a moment to respond. He stepped off the porch, bent, and touched Alex’s nape. “Rise,” he said softly.

Alex rose to his feet more gracefully than he’d lowered himself. His mouth moved the fraction that stood for a smile with this deeply taciturn man. “Your face looks funny.”

“I am . . .” Flabbergasted. “Seldom as wrong as I was about this. You don’t object to my being Rho? Or to the way I assumed the mantle?”

Alex snorted. “Took you long enough.”

EVENINGdawdled in the summer in North Carolina. At seven thirty, sunshine still slanted brightly through the banked clouds Lily saw out the bedroom window. Those mounds of bruise-colored clouds suggested the rain wasn’t through with them yet, but for now the air was clear and almost cool.