Muriel came from a warrior family. Her father, uncle, brother, and son had been active warriors of theHee'woo'nee, but she’d never experienced the harsh realities of a warrior’s life. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t experienced sacrifices. She’d lost heruncle and then son to a warrior’s death, but she carried no responsibility for their deaths, and thus no guilt.
The choice over who lived and died came with a toll. A tax on the spirit and heart. It didn’t matter whether the life taken was an evil one; choosing their death hardened the spirit. Deliberately sending innocent lives to the land of their ancestors carried an even weightier toll, one that drained the soul.
“That’s terrible,” she finally responded, but her voice was thoughtful rather than horrified.
Her reaction brought his gaze to her face. There was no condemnation in her eyes. Horror was absent as well. Had she not understood what he’d said?
“Everyone on board the Chinook agreed the Harbinger needed to go down.” Well, except for the southern squid, but that wasn’t important right now. “We couldn’t chance the ship being boarded or the crew making it to shore. If the bots got off the vessel, the battle forHokalitawas lost.”He paused, before adding deliberately, “We all agreed, but Wolf made the final call. He was the one who ordered the missile strike that sunk the ship and its crew.”
She needed to know what a cold, pragmatic bastard Wolf was. Not that he disagreed with Wolf’s decision. Hell, he’d shared it. But then he was a cold, pragmatic bastard too.
Huh...looks like he had something in common with Wolf after all.
“I can see why you all reached that decision…” Muriel’s voice trailed off.
She still didn’t look upset by the destruction of the Harbinger. He frowned. “You don’t seem concerned by the actions we took.”
A startled look flashed across her fac. “Why would I be? Wolf wouldn’t make that decision lightly. There were no other options available.”
Frustration flared. Wolf again. She trusted in her hero...was certain he’d made the right—hell, only—call. Another example of her lifelong devotion.
“Here’s the thing though,” she continued, her eyebrows wrinkling beneath her frown. “A choice like that would destroy Gracie. She has a soft heart. Taking so many innocent lives—” Muriel broke off with a slow shake of her head. “Gracie would agonize over a decision like that.” She fell silent, that earlier thoughtful expression settling back on her face. “Perhaps we can use that example, that terrible choice, to…dissuade…her from pursuing the life of a warrior.”
Well, that explained her thoughtful expression. While he understood her drive to keep their daughter safe, he doubted the Harbinger’s fate would change Gracie’s mind. Their daughter was committed to the pursuit of a warrior life.
Besides, there were other things to consider. “It’s still unclear why Gracie was given a warrior’s totem. But if the elder gods expect her to join the warrior clan, there is little we can do to stop it.”
Muriel sighed. “I’m still hoping the claiming was a mistake…or…that it doesn’t mean what Gracie believes. Perhaps theHo'ceewas gifted for another purpose.”
O’Neill shrugged. The elder gods didn’t make mistakes. Besides, he’d promised to teach their daughter self-defense. He refused to break that promise.
“Will you tell her about the Harbinger?” Muriel asked. “Prepare her for such difficult choices if she insists on pursuing this path?” When O’Neill didn’t respond, her expression turned pleading. “If I warn her of what’s ahead for her, she’ll ignore me. But she needs to be aware of what she’s facing. You need to warn her.”
She was right. The first life and death choice was a steep step, one that, if not taken carefully, could lead to an unexpected trip to one’s ancestors.
“I’ll talk to her.” O’Neill finally promised. “Has she manifested her spirit gift yet?
Knowing what talent theHo'ceehad gifted her would help with her training. And point to her role in theWanatesa.
Muriel’s lips twisted. “I haven’t seen anything. Nor would she share her talent with me if it has manifested.”
O’Neill studied her face. Beneath the stoicism, he could sense hurt and confusion.
“Still no progress on bridging this distance between you?” he asked quietly.
“No…” She hesitated, tucking a swath of thick black hair behind her ear.
O’Neill’s gaze lingered on her hair. On the silky shine of it. He still remembered the feel of it against his skin, the sensual caress as it slid over his—he shut the memory down. But it was much harder to shut down his cock’s response. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping she hadn’t noticed the rise of his shaft within the crotch of his tactical pants.
“While we’ve never been close, there was never anger between us until recently. Just indifference. And her indifference wasn’t just with me. It was with everyone. My parents, her schoolmates, her teachers. She kept everyone at a distance. She had no friends growing up. All her interests were solitary pursuits—like reading or computer stuff. The only person she connected with was Daniel. I used to worry about that. I’d encourage her to make friends. She always said Daniel was enough.”
O’Neill digested that. “And now Daniel is gone, and she has no one.”
Muriel swallowed hard and nodded. “After all these years of not connecting with anyone other than her twin, I’m not sure sheknows how. Although…” Her eyes narrowed. “She reached out to you.”
O’Neill considered that, thankful to feel the swelling subside in his crotch. From Muriel’s description of their daughter, Gracie’s instant acceptance of him was a surprise. She’d told him within minutes of their first meeting about her spirit claiming. Something she hadn’t even told her mother. That’s when something occurred to him.
“You know,” he said slowly. “Regardless of the lone wolf metaphor, wolves are pack animals. They are rarely alone.”
