Page 37 of Curse of the Wolf
“Did something change?”
“Now that I’m a werewolf again, well… I don’t know. It’s not something that would have crossed my mind if my mother hadn’t kept bringing it up—and I hate that she wants to pressure me andyouabout that—but a part of me wonders what it wouldbe like to have werewolf pups.”Yourpups, I thought but didn’t say. The last thing I wished was for Duncan to believe I was like my mother in any way, or wanted anything from him. Besides, we hadn’t even had sex yet. It was silly to wonder what children with him would be like. “When I was raising my sons, Ididoften wish for a little girl.”
“In addition to them?”
“Or instead of,” I said dryly. “Boys are a lot of work.”
“And girls are easy?”
“They don’t usually put their fists through the drywall and go through phases where they’re disassembling all the electronics in the house. I went throughfourtoasters when Austin was in middle school. And I had to repair the drywall and paint numerous times due to testosterone-driven temper tantrums.”
“Something tells me that girls may come with challenges too.” Duncan gazed at me through his eyelashes.
“Funny that you’d look at me while you say that.”
“Isn’t it?” He smiled again, but it was fleeting. “The reason I asked… Well, I was curious. Over the years, I’ve wondered from time to time about what having children might be like, but I always dismissed the idea. I love travel so much that I could never imagine being tied down in one place. But now that I’ve been presented with this…this..” He tapped his scar. “Well, it’s forced me to realize I could die without leaving any offspring to carry on my blood.”
“Your scientist-crafted laboratory blood is weird.”
“True, but, surely, someone would want it? Your mother thinks it has appeal.”
“She just wants grandkids with the power to kick a lot of ass. It’s a typical thing for a werewolf mother to desire.”
“Since I never had a mother, I’ll have to take your word for that.” Duncan held my gaze for a moment before looking toward the water again. The moon had gone behind a tree, leaving thesilver beam on the surface broken in two. “This turn of events has had me rethinking things a touch. Maybe… having a few regrets.”
“You’ll have to find a way not to die, at least not yet. Then there’s still time for you to have kids.”
“Hm.”
I didn’t know if that noise meant he didn’t believe he could beat this curse or if he hadn’t yet decided that he wanted kids. It sounded like he was mostly at the musing—and regrets—phase.
“You can have children and travel, you know,” I pointed out. “Either their mother could stay at home with them, or the whole family could be nomadic and have adventures. Then you’d have the opportunity to teach them to ride a bike—or fish rusty bikes out of a lake.”
“Oh goodness, that sounds wonderful.”
If not for the grim undercurrent, I would have laughed. Only he could say something like that and be serious.
“I hadn’t thought of taking childrenonmy travels.” Duncan gazed at me and touched a finger to my jaw. “You’re a delightful woman, Luna Valens.”
“I am,” I said, though I hoped he wasn’t envisioningmecavorting around the world with him, a pack of our offspring in tow. I didn’t even want to leave my apartment in Shoreline. Not to be nomadic, anyway. A vacation adventure here and there might be okay.
Musings that wouldn’t matter unless Duncan lived and we had a relationship. His eyebrow twitched, not in some sardonic facial expression, but because, if the accompanying wince was an indicator, he had a headache. Or stabs of pain in his skull.
On the verge of tears, I opened my mouth to reiterate the need to find a solution to his problem, but he took my parted lips as an invitation and smoothed his face and kissed me.
It was a tender kiss rather than one filled with fiery passion. It held the longing and regret he’d voiced, the uncertainty about whether he would be able to pursue the future we’d spoken about. I tried to comfort him, returning the kiss in kind, but I also couldn’t help but wonder if we should make the most of the time we had.
Not here though. One of the teenagers in the parking lot whistled, and his friends laughed. My phone rang. The romance of a moonlit night would have to wait. Clouds were wafting in anyway, the air smelling like rain might come the next day.
Duncan sighed and leaned back.
I frowned in confusion at the name on my phone. It was Minato, the owner of the convenience store next to the pond. Was it possible the teenagers had committed a crime that he hoped I could handle?
“Hello?”
“Ms. Valens. Thank you for taking my call this late at night.”
“Uh, no problem.” I glanced at the clock on my phone. It was creeping up on ten p.m., but my tenants often called that late to report water leaks and other time-sensitive problems. Occasionally problems thatweren’ttime sensitive too. “What’s up?”
