“Exactly.”

Unable to resist that mouth, Derren flicked his tongue over her upper lip. “So your grandmother trained you?”

“Right up until she died that night the pack was slain, yeah.”

Not liking the sadness in her voice, Derren smoothed his hands up and down her back. “Who guided you when you moved with Cain to his uncles’ pack?”

“No one. They didn’t have a Seer there.”

“And I’ll bet they expected you to act as the pack’s Seer.” He didn’t like that.

“If I had a vision, I shared it.”

Protectiveness surged through him at the idea of a six-year-old Ally being held partly responsible for her pack’s safety. She didn’t sound at all angry or resentful of that or anything else that had happened to her; he admired that. “It’s a shitload of responsibility to put on a kid.”

Ally tilted her head. “You despise responsibilities, don’t you?”

Ah, so she’d picked up on that. “Much like you, I don’t like feeling trapped.” He couldn’t like anything that made him feel confined, which was why he strongly doubted he’d ever mate. Even if he somehow recognized his true mate, his reluctance to be part of anything that took away his choices or freedom could prevent the mating bond from ever fully developing.

“You know, feeling trapped doesn’t mean you’re trapped. It’s just what you feel. I know I’m damn weird for sleeping most of the night outside—”

“Waking up to find it’s dark after just having a nightmare where you were trapped in the dark is bound to make it hard to fall back asleep. A lot of people stay awake after nightmares. You’ve found an alternative—albeit uncommon—way to cope with it. That doesn’t make you weird.”

“And feeling the weight of responsibilities isn’t weird either—especially when you’re responsible for the well-being of an entire pack.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I think you worry you’ll let them all down.”

His smile was stilted. “My conscience isn’t developed enough for that.”

“And I think you don’t believe you deserve their faith in you.”

“I don’t. They’ve given me their trust. But I can’t give it back.” Not to all of them.

“You don’t want to trust. It’s a self-preservation thing for you. I’m not being judgmental, just making a point.”

He swirled his tongue inside the hollow of her throat. “What’s that point?”

“That your responsibilities aren’t trapping you.” Her words came out a little breathless, since what he was doing felt too good. “Taking on responsibilities means taking charge of your life. It’s your own personal shit that’s trapping you.”

Maybe. But while he was hard as a rock, the only thing he could really think about was being inside her. “Finished preaching?”

She sniffed. “For today.”

“Good. I want to be in you.”

“You’ll have to catch me first.” Then she fled, laughing as she heard him cursing behind her as he rushed to follow.

CHAPTER TEN

The chiming of his cell phone pulled Derren from his paperwork. He frowned at the unfamiliar number. “Hello.”

“Derren?”

His entire body stiffened as shock locked his muscles. He recognized the female voice. It was older, harder, than when he’d last heard it.

“It’s Roxanne.” His older sister. “Mom and Dad . . . they died last night.”

Died? He probably shouldn’t care. Had always assumed he wouldn’t. But he had to ask . . . “How?”

“Dad had a heart attack. And Mom,” choked Roxanne, “didn’t last long after the mating bond broke.” She cleared her throat before continuing, her voice now stiff and formal. “The funeral is tomorrow morning at ten¸ if you want to attend.” She hung up before he could respond.

For a moment, Derren just sat there, unmoving. Then came the sudden urge to bolt, to get outside and inhale the fresh air. Without a word to anyone, Derren barged out of his office and out of the main lodge. He didn’t give a thought to which direction he was heading, he just walked. He waited for some kind of emotion to hit him.

Something.

Anything.

But there was nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he wandered aimlessly, but he realized that at some point he’d subconsciously made his way to the lodge he shared with Ally. He found her drinking coffee at the dining table wrapped in a terry robe, her hair damp. She looked up at him with a smile. That smile quickly faded.

“Derren.” Rising, Ally slowly moved to him, alarmed by the numbness coming from him, causing one continuous drone to ring in her ear. Something was very wrong. “Derren, what is it?” He didn’t respond. He just stood there, his expression blank and his eyes cold. She fisted her hands in his T-shirt. “Has there been another attack?”

“No.” His tone was flat, emotionless. “I had a call I wasn’t expecting.”

“Who called?”

“My sister.”

Okay, well, that had been the last thing she’d been expecting to hear—particularly since she hadn’t even known he had a sister. Since that day at the hot springs, he’d shared more and more with Ally. But the subject of his old pack had always remained untouched, and she’d respected his wish to keep it private.