They both knew she was lying. She’d been the one to walk away. She could have stayed. She could have told him he had another child. A living child. A daughter.
But she’d lashed out instead, wanting him to hurt like she was hurting. Shame rose; Gracie had gotten the short end of that tantrum.
“You can’t hide this news from Gracie, Mur. Or O’Neill.” Oliva leaned across the armrests to squeeze her bicep. “He’ll find out sooner or later that Daniel has a twin.” She squeezed Muriel’s arm again. “And Gracie will hear about him. You need to tell her yourself, before word gets out.”
Muriel flinched. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” The admission bruised her tight, hot throat. “I’ll tell her when we return to your house.”
She’d wait to tell O’Neill that he had a daughter until after she told Gracie. Gracie came first. O’Neill could wait. Assuming she could even find Angus. The man was skilled at hiding from her.
“I can’t believe you never told Samuel.” Livvy pulled back in her seat with a shake of her head. “As close as you two are…”
Muriel sighed and massaged her temples, where an ache was forming. “I couldn’t tell him. You weren’t around back then. There was so much hatred between Wolf and O’Neill. They were constantly fighting. Samuel always held back during the fighting, but he was clearly on Wolf’s side. I was afraid if they knew O’Neill had gotten me pregnant, they’d think he targeted and used me to get back at them.” Which was the conclusion she’d eventually reached. She grimaced. “If the two ganged up on O’Neill, they would have beaten him to a pulp. I was afraid they’d kill him if they found out.”
From what she’d seen of O’Neill in the parking lot, he and Wolf still looked evenly matched. They’d both matured. Hardened. O’Neill’s face was more chiseled, squarer, with lines and grooves that hadn’t been there during his adolescence. He’d filled out too, across the chest and shoulders. Beneath his t-shirt, his shoulders and arms were roped with muscles. The man obviously worked out.
But so did Wolf. The two warriors were of a similar size and build, too. Both were in excellent shape. Both skilled in the warrior ways. All of which made them dangerous. More dangerous than they’d been back in high school.
“It’s been twenty years though, he’ll wonder why you keep it a secret from him for so long,” Olivia said with a sideways glance.
Muriel was afraid of that too. But every time she’d tried to come clean to her brother, her chest tightened and her belly churned. As the cycles turned, it was easier to avoid the subject.
“It never occurred to him, to anyone, that the twins’ father was from theBrenahiilo,” Olivia observed.
Muriel sighed. The twins had come early, as was often the case with twins, so everyone assumed she’d conceived after leaving theBrenahiiloand settling into summer classes at WSU. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until fall classes began.”
And what a shock the news was. O’Neill had worn a condom. And she’d been on birth control. Conception shouldn’t have been possible. Yet she’d conceived, and the trajectory of her life had completely derailed. Within a couple of months, she’d gone from the bright new possibilities of college back to theBrenahiiloand adult responsibilities.
She didn’t regret choosing the twins though. Daniel and Gracie were worth every sacrifice she’d made.
Even though her time with Daniel had been so short. Too short. That desolate, internal blizzard bore down again. Her throat tightened. Her chest ached. Her arms felt empty. She’dnever get to hold him again. Never get to see him find hisle'ven'aor welcome his ownanvaatinto the world. Her breathing hitched. His life had stretched before him with such promise, only to be cut so brutally short.
It wasn’t fair.
Olivia squeezed Muriel’s hand before dropping it and urging Muriel to her feet. “I know you love working at the animal refuge, but you’re still young. And Gracie is an adult now. You could go back to college, become a veterinarian like you originally planned. It’s not too late.”
Muriel shrugged and followed Olivia across the waiting room, trying to focus past the swelling pain, with its icy bite. “It’s not worth the effort. I ended up exactly where I needed to be. I’m still working with animals.”
Oliva’s pace slowed and a thoughtful look crossed her face. “You certainly have an affinity for animals, as proven by our new friend Penny the peacock. I still think our great mother gifted you with the wildling touch.”
Muriel shook her head, forcing a smile. “I was never blessed with clan magic or a clan totem.”
Olivia already knew this. Everyone knew this. In her adolescence, the great mother’s rejection had shamed her, pained her. She’d prayed to the Blue Moon Mother incessantly, asking why she’d been forsaken. What had she done to offend? Generations of Ravensbloods had been favored by the elder gods. So had all her mother’s relatives. Until her. And now Gracie.
But she’d long ago accepted this spurning, learned to live a good life without the elder gods’ blessing.
Perhaps O’Neill’s lack of a clan claiming had partially drawn her to him originally. Their rejection by the elder gods was something they shared. But then, just before graduation, the dayafter their night together, he’d made theheschrmalclaiming and the entireBrenahiilohad turned their backs on him.
She hadn’t believed him—why would the elder gods favor him? Someone with no clan magic anywhere in his family background? Why would he find favor, while she remained shunned? Even so, if he’d come to her, told her of his gifting, she wouldn’t have demanded proof. Not like so many others.
She’d been such an ungratefulanvaaback then, so certain of her own worth, certain the great mother had made a mistake. Did Gracie mourn her lack of the wilding gift as much as Muriel had during her adolescence? Daniel, being so strongly gifted, must have felt like a slap to her daughter. Samuel’s gift had felt like a punishment to Muriel for years.
Did Gracie feel less than herJavaanee?
Maybe. Maybe not. It was difficult to read her daughter most of the time. A distance had long stretched between them, one Muriel had never been able to bridge. After Daniel had received his totem from the raven spirit, she’d tried to talk to Gracie about the situation, tried to commiserate with her. Their lack of wilding magic was something they shared...something they could have bonded over.
But no, Gracie had just stared at her with impassive eyes, quietly claimed the lack of a totem didn’t matter, and walked away. But then, she should have known Gracie wouldn’t respond. Her daughter shared herself with no one. Not Muriel. Not her grandparents. Not her uncle. The only person she’d let into her heart was Daniel.
Muriel loved her daughter, she did, but even as an infant Gracie had been... detached: crying and squirming when Muriel picked her up; turning away from her breast; not wanting to cuddle; not wanting to be picked up. As she’d aged, she never sought Muriel out for comfort over skinned knees, bruises, or personal problems. Instead, she’d locked her feelings down,swallowed her fears and ambitions, and hidden within the shadow of her popular, extroverted brother.
