The Werewolf Meets His Match
“Well, he scares the hell out of me. Has for most of my life.” She turned away and stared out the window. “But I’m done with that now. Done with his threats. I don’t care what he does to me, but if he’s hurt Charlie—”
“You really think he would hurt his own grandson?”
The sharp, bitter laugh came back only to be choked off by a sob. “You have no idea what this man is capable of.” She bent her head. “Or what he’s capable of getting others to do.”
“You think he was behind the Jenkins boys?”
“No. Getting me married off to a Merrow was his number one plan. Killing me would ruin everything and leave him stuck with Charlie.” She sniffed and took her hand off the door handle.
“Stuck? With his grandson?” Hank’s hackles went up as he followed the GPS instructions to turn right. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She swallowed and a single tear spilled down her cheek. “I’m really, really sorry, Hank.” Her voice had the soft, deflated tone of guilt. “It was never my intent to deceive you, but my father said he’d leave Charlie out alone in the middle of the woods on the night of the full moon if I told you the truth. I couldn’t risk my son’s life for the feelings of a man I had never met.” She glanced at him. “I wouldn’t risk my son’s life for anything.”
“I can understand that.” His hatred for Clemens grew a notch. Arranged marriages weren’t untypical in pack life. Hank’s jaw tightened. “But not how your father could threaten his own grandchild. That makes him more of a monster than I’d imagined.”
“You’re starting to understand.” She seemed small. Like she was trying to pull away from him.
“Why didn’t you take Charlie and run?”
“Too dangerous. My father would have hunted us down and made an example out of us. No one shames Clemens Kincaid. It’s bad enough that Charlie…” She swallowed the rest of her words and went quiet.
Hank wanted to touch her, but kept his hands on the wheel. “Bad enough that Charlie what? I know you’re keeping something from me. There has to be more. Like why leaving Charlie alone in the woods on the night of a full moon is such a threat. Whatever it is, I’m not going to be mad. Just tell me.”
“I don’t want to. Because I don’t want you to hate me.”
“Would you rather I hear it from your father?” He couldn’t guess what she thought was so terrible.
She clasped her arms around herself and retreated against the door, cringing a little as she spoke. “Charlie…can’t shift.”
The words punched Hank in the gut. A kid who couldn’t shift? He knew immediately why she’d pulled away from him. Why she’d kept this from him. Clemens must think he was really about to get one over on the Merrows. Hank kept his voice calm, even though that wasn’t what he was feeling inside. “I thought you said Charlie had gone through his first turning.”
“No. You asked if he’s just had his first moon. I only said that he had, right after his May fifth birthday. Not that he’d actually turned.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t want to lie to you, Hank. I thought a vague answer was better than a lie.”
“Except I took it to mean—never mind.” Ivy didn’t need him adding to her guilt. He understood her reasoning and her deep-seated desire to protect her child. “Why can’t Charlie shift?”
She shrugged, her eyes bleak with misery. “I don’t know. His father was a wolf. There’s no real reason. It just happens sometimes.”
“It does.” It was rare, but it occurred every few generations. In the old days, those children were considered cursed, a blight on their packs. They were turned out. Left to the elements. Which was exactly what Clemens Kincaid was threatening if he couldn’t pawn the child off on the Georgia pack. Hank looked through the swath of light created by the headlights, embarrassed by the history of his kind and barely able to control his anger. This wasn’t something a mother should have to deal with.
“I get that this changes things,” she said softly. “I’m really sorry to have led you on, and I want you to know I understand why you won’t be marrying me. I have no hard feelings toward you. I just hope you don’t hate me.”
He felt her hand on his leg. He looked down from the road. Her palm was on his thigh, face up. Her engagement ring squarely in the middle.
“Hate you? For something your father forced you to do? I’m in love with you, Ivy. Don’t you know that? Put that ring back on.” He glanced at her. “It’s time to get Charlie.”
Her eyes rounded. “You…don’t care…that Charlie can’t shift?”
“No. I mean, I care, but only because it must be making the kid’s life miserable. Especially with Clemens for a grandfather.”
“But it means you’ll never be able to be alpha. Not with a firstborn son who can’t succeed you. It means you’ll be known as the father of a…mutt.”
Anger stirred within him. The slur held more derogatory meaning than any other a were could be called. “Anyone calls Charlie a mutt in my presence, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
He pulled into the driveway at her parents’ house and turned the car off. The place was big but artless. The goal of the house seemed to be size, not class. It was a two-story brick monstrosity with white columns and arched windows and a front porch that ran the length of the house. Sort of a plantation manor without the charm. He twisted on the seat to face her. “Do you care if I never become alpha?”