“Why was I on the council?” she asked, and I nodded. “Because their decisions were important to me, and I wanted to have some input.”

“Did Daddy make you quit?”

My mother laughed. She actually threw her head back and laughed, drawing stares from across the room as she shattered the surface of a tense, grieving silence with a sound of genuine amusement. “Your father has never made me do anything,” she whispered, glancing around discreetly to make sure no one was bothered by her outburst. “But he did try to convince me to stay on the council.”

“He wanted you to stay?” I couldn’t keep disbelief from my voice. She was turning my entire world inside out, with no idea of the impact of her words. I could almost believe the sun would rise tomorrow to light a purple sky and shine down on bright pink grass.

“Is that so hard to believe? He thought the Alphas needed to be tempered by a less aggressive influence. Together, they’re pretty easily riled, you know.”

“I know.” That was true for men in general, in my opinion. “Why weren’t there any other dams on the council?”

“Wel , I can’t speak for the other women, but none of them seemed particularly interested in discussing dry politics and border negotiations.”

That was understandable. “So, why did you quit?”

“I had more important work to do.”

“You mean raising us?” I asked, my tone dipping once again into my endless supply of disdain. Why would a woman who’d served on the council want to give up such an important position to change diapers and pack bagged lunches?

“You, mostly.” Her hands went stil again as her eyes stared off into the past with a look so wistful it made me ache for her. “The boys tended to take care of each other, but you were too much for anyone else to handle.”

I poked at the bal of yarn, avoiding her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.”

She smiled. “You broke Ethan’s arm.”

“It was self-defense. He wouldn’t let go of my foot.”

“He was helping you tie your shoe.”

I shrugged. I remembered it differently. He’d held my foot down with his hands around my ankle, so I kicked him in the chest with my free foot. He fel onto his backside. When he stood, face flaming in anger, I swept his legs out from under him with the foot wearing the untied sneaker—my childish attempt at poetic justice.

Ethan threw one arm back, trying to catch himself, and we both heard his wrist snap. Everyone in the house heard him howl. He was eight, and I was six.

“What about the time you super-glued Ryan’s—” She stopped, glancing down at her lap. After a moment, her fingers flew into action, needles clicking with an all-new speed and intensity. She’d been about to ask about the time I’d super-glued Ryan’s hands to the handlebars of his bike. It was a clear-cut case of justifiable retaliation, but she would no more listen to my excuses than she would finish the story herself.

My mother hadn’t mentioned her second son’s name in ten years. She could deal with his decision to leave the Pride, but only if she didn’t have to think about it.

Or talk about it. Ryan was my mother’s kryptonite, her only weakness, at least that I knew of. He was the prodigal son who’d never returned. And his name was off-limits, even to my father.

Ethan crossed the room quickly, but I couldn’t tel whether he was coming to my rescue or hers. Either way, he knew we’d had enough. “Hey, Mom,” he said, plopping down on her other side. “Do we have any more of those cookies you made yesterday?”

Her fingers never paused. “Ethan, there’s no possible way you could stil be hungry after three trips to the buffet. And no, you finished al the cookies this morning. After breakfast and before your midmorning snack.”

He grinned, holding up one end of the bootie for my inspection. I flipped him off behind my mother’s head, but he only grinned harder, stil watching my face as he spoke to her. “I don’t suppose you feel like making some more, do you?”

She sighed and her hands settled into her lap. I saw the beginning of a frown on her profile just before she turned to face him. “It’s late, Ethan. Go make yourself a sandwich if you’re stil hungry.”

From my left, Parker tapped me on the shoulder and jerked his head toward the hal . I nodded, sliding careful y off the sofa as Ethan tried to convince our mother that he had no idea how to assemble a decent club sandwich.

There are several advantages to being a cat that carry over to a lesser degree in human form, but stealth is the best by far. By the time my mother realized I was gone, I was racing across the backyard, with Jace and Parker on my heels.

Seventeen

“Wait.” I slowed to an abrupt stop, breathing heavily as I curled my toes in the cool, soft grass halfway between the main house and the guesthouse. Parker and Jace ran several steps behind me, their hair blown back by the persistent evening breeze.

Parker sidestepped me seconds before his momentum would have knocked us both to the ground. “What?” he asked, smoothing salt-and-pepper hair with one hand.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to stay with Kyle?”

One corner of Parker’s mouth curled up in amusement. “He’s fine. We left him with Michael.”

“He’l pass out soon anyway,” Jace said, moonlight glinting blue-white in his eyes as he came to a stop on my other side. I’d been afraid of what I’d see on his face, but he wore his usual carefree grin, as if nothing had happened. “We’ve been giving him whiskey as fast as he’d drink it. The man’s a lightweight.”