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“And I’d rather my mate not have dark circles under her eyes and be so tired she can barely see,” he countered. “Now be a good mate and drink all your tea; then you can eat.” He held the plate up as an enticement.

Shay snagged the cup by its holder and dragged it to her. As she contemplated the tea, she said, “If I don’t drink this, you wouldn’t really make me go without eating. It’s like, against the mate code of honor or something.”

Because what she said was nothing less than the truth, Rory tried bargaining with her. “I took you to see Alex when we have a perfectly good midwife here in the pack. Now I’m asking you to return the favor and drink the brew Laurie Bell recommended for you.”

Shay frowned. “Laurie Bell gave you this?”

“Yes. She dropped it by this morning on her way to work.”

Her gaze met his, bounced to the food, the cup, and back to his again. Then she sighed. “Fine. I’ll drink the stupid tea.”

Waiting until she’d drained the cup, Rory set a full plate in front of her and joined her at the table. As half the food disappeared, Shay’s eyes gradually became more alert. Either the food or the tea, or a combination of the two, had done the trick.

Suddenly her head snapped up. “Kian,” she said and began to rise from her seat.

He gestured with his fork. “Sit. Eat.”

“But—”

“Unless you plan to meet him like that,” he added, flicking his gaze up and down her body, drawing attention to her attire.

Shay glanced down at herself, flushed a brilliant shade of red, then sat.

Rory wisely held in his smirk.

After another few mouthfuls of food, Shay said, “You never did say what’s so special about your brother.”

“He’s mute,” Rory said flatly, watching Shay closely for her response.

There was an expectant silence; then Shay said, “That’s it?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

She scrunched up her face. “I thought you were going to say your brother had some severe physical or mental problem that made him unable to function. But mute…?” She shrugged. “So he can’t talk. What’s the big deal?”

Rory gaped. He simply couldn’t help himself. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“No. Does it bother you?” Shay asked pointedly.

“No, but then he’s my brother. Others in the pack aren’t as welcoming.”

Shay snorted. “Big surprise there.”

Rory studied her. “It really doesn’t bother you?”

“No, Rory, it really doesn’t. It wouldn’t bother me no matter what disability he had. I don’t discriminate. In fact, whenever I’m home long enough, I volunteer my time at the local children’s hospital, working with special needs kids.”

Rory sat back, admittedly astonished by this bit of insight into the woman he loved. “Maybe it’s because you’re human,” he mused.

“What does my being human have to do with anything?” Shay asked, making Rory realize he’d spoken that last thought aloud.

Rory tried to put into words something he’d never had to explain. “As a species, shifters are strong, faster, better than everyone else.”

The ferocious frown on Shay’s face showed she took exception to his words. He hurried on before she could interrupt. “What I mean is because of our healing abilities, we don’t suffer the normal defects and diseases humans are used to dealing with. So when one of us is born…” he hesitated, then continued, “different, we don’t know how to react.”

“By different you mean flawed.”

He winced. “Yeah.”

“That’s asinine,” she said, angry sparks in her eyes.

He shrugged. “Are humans really so different, Shay? How many humans avert their gaze when they see a less than perfect specimen of the species? Some even go out of their way to avoid the disabled as though the disability were somehow contagious.”

“You’re right,” she admitted, then sighed. “Well, at least Kian and I have something in common.”

He arched a brow. “And what might that be?”

“Neither one of us is crazy about your pack,” she said before heading upstairs to dress.

Chapter Twelve

An hour later Rory and Shay stood at the entrance to the basement level. The door had four deadbolt locks and appeared to be made of steel. Shay knocked on it to be sure. Definitely metal.

Amazed, she asked, “Are you trying to lock him in or keep others out?”

“Keeping others out. Kian’s free to come and go as he pleases.”

“How? I’ve been here a week and never seen this door opened,” she muttered at his back.

“There’s an exit at the rear of the house. Stay close,” Rory called over his shoulder as he turned the key in the last lock, pulled open the door, and started down the dark stairwell.

Shay was right on his heels, curiosity driving her.

At the bottom of the steps was another door with even more locks, reminding Shayla of Shannon’s basement room. “What is it with you people and basements locked up tighter than Fort Knox?”

He tossed a glance over his shoulder. “After what happened during the blue moon, you need to ask?”

Okay, so it was a stupid question.

“Each pack maintains a minimum of one secure room for shifters out of control. It’s to protect them and to protect the pack. The Sparrowhawk pack has two,” Rory explained.

“And this is one of them,” Shayla concluded.

“No, this is Kian’s room. When we get inside, stay by the door until I tell you it’s okay to come forward,” Rory said as he opened the door and walked inside.

As Shay entered behind him, something in the shadows moved. The biggest black wolf she’d ever seen in her life emerged out of the shadows and into a beam of sunlight. Her breath caught, and she edged closer to Rory, forgetting his earlier instructions. He reached back a hand and nudged her gently until she stood partially behind him.

“Kian, I want you to meet my mate, Shayla. Shay, this is my brother, Kian.”

Kian came forward, and Shayla stared into eyes so pale a blue they were almost translucent. There was feral intelligence in his gaze. On all fours, his head nearly reached her shoulder, and even his shiny, thick pelt couldn’t disguise that his body was a lithe mass of muscle. Her fingers clinched on Rory’s waist, nails digging into his side.

“Hold out your hand,” Rory instructed.

Shay glanced at him sharply. Hold out her hand? What, like she was meeting the family pet? Troubled, she reluctantly did as instructed.

Kian’s nostrils flared as he took in her scent, and he came even closer, his massive head lowering until his snout was even with her belly. Then he swung his gaze to Rory’s.

“That’s right,” Rory stated as though he were answering a question. “Shay’s pregnant with my cub.”

The wolf, Kian, looked at her again; then his gaze met Rory’s and something seemed to pass between them. In the sunlight Shay could see Kian’s belly and fur vibrate, but no sound emerged. It took all Shay had not to run when he came nearer and rubbed his body against hers, marking her with his scent. Dang, he was huge. Bigger even than Rory in wolf form.

Did this mean she was accepted? If so, why hadn’t he shifted and greeted her properly?

Kian nudged her hand with his snout. After a brief glance at Rory to check his reaction, she reached out a hesitant hand and rubbed him behind his ears like she would any dog. He tolerated her touch for a few, brief moments, then disappeared around the corner into the shadows. Very anticlimactic. Not what she’d expected at all.

Now that Kian was gone, she took a longer, more thorough look at her surroundings. What she saw—or rather didn’t see—pissed her off. She’d believed, since Kian resided here, that the setup would be like a small apartment efficiency. It wasn’t. There was no couch, no television or stereo, no dressers or bed. Just a measly, bare mattress thrown on the floor in the corner. And unless they were hidden around that corner, there were no kitchen appliances. She couldn’t even hear the hum of a refrigerator.