Authors: Caris Roane
Her biological father had at least a dozen empty whisky bottles lined up on his kitchen counter. A couple of decades ago, he’d served as a leader in one of the Camberlaune shifter packs. But when his wife and young son had been killed in an Invictus attack, he’d lost the will to do just about anything.
Olivia could sympathize, but she still felt a strong measure of distaste that he hadn’t gotten on with his life in a meaningful way.
Luther asked, “And are you telling us you didn’t know about Olivia?”
Ivor glared at Luther. “Of course I knew I had a daughter, but she was half-human. I thought it would be better for her to be raised by her mother in the States. And it was just a Goddess-be-damned one night ride anyway.”
Both men growled, muscles tense.
Olivia didn’t even have time to be angry for herself. She worried now that what had begun as a civil meeting between child and blood-parent would turn into a brawl.
She stood up and clamped a hand on each massive shoulder, holding the men in place. “Stand down, both of you, or I’ll go Zephyr in this room.”
The men bristled but remained seated.
She addressed the man who had sired her. “But I needed pack involvement.” She waved her hands, showing her fur. “You should have known that, Ivor. And I fault you for not thinking that far ahead.” When he still remained unmoved, she knew she needed a slightly different tack. She debated sharing her recently discovered secret, but maybe it was what Ivor needed to knock him out of his doldrums.
She once more glanced at the whisky bottles. “However, I am open to seeing you again, to seeing if we might establish some kind of father-daughter rapport. But you’ll have to start attending one of the Camberlaune AA meetings and maybe some grief counseling. You’re a mess. And by the way, I’m pregnant. So if you want to know your grandchild, you’ll have to get your shit together. I suggest sooner rather than later.”
Ivor stared at her hard, lips compressed. “You’re having my grandbaby?”
“Yes.
Your
grandbaby.”
“Olivia?” Zane’s voice brought her attention riveting to him. She felt a sudden swell of sensation from the man beside her. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out this way; Zane didn’t even know. Yet somehow the moment had seemed right to her.
Zane stood up and turned her physically toward him. “You’re pregnant? You’re having my baby? Our baby?”
She blushed. “Dammit, I am. And I should have told you first but I wanted to give Ivor a shake-up. I think he needed one.”
Zane took her in a warm embrace.
It doesn’t matter. I think you did the right thing. It might just be what the shifter needs to start fighting for a better life for himself.
He kissed her afterward, a lingering touch of his lips to hers that as always threatened to become so much more in no time at all.
We’re having a baby,
he said.
Yes, we most definitely are.
She felt Luther nudge her shoulder, giving her a hint to knock it off.
She drew back, gripping Zane’s arms. “Tiffany will love having a sibling, especially one that’s mostly shifter and vampire with a little human thrown in.”
“Yes, she will because our child is bound to be a match for her.”
Olivia laughed and Zane joined her.
She turned back to her father and crossed to him. He’d risen to his feet, but now had the look of man who’d been slapped hard, which she thought a very good thing.
She extended her hand to him. “I hope you figure things out, Ivor. You know where to reach me, but I won’t have anything to do with you until you have a 30-day chip. And I’ll want a call from your sponsor. Do you understand me?”
Ivor nodded, giving her hand a single shake as though making a pact with her. She hoped he followed through. From what Luther had told her about him, he’d once been a true fighting man, an honorable shifter in every sense of the word, one of the most revered in Camberlaune.
“We’ll be going now,” she said.
When she turned, Zane hurried to open the door for her, glancing at her belly.
She laughed outright, then shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She then pulled the door open for herself.
“I’m sorry,” Ivor called to her.
As she headed to the two bikes parked in front of Ivor’s apartment, she said in a loud voice, “A thirty-day chip. Nothing less. Or don’t even bother.”
“Okay.”
Once outside, Zane hopped on his cherry-red, replacement Valkyrie and Luther sat astride a big Harley. She slid her arms around Zane’s waist and held on tight, not so much because she needed to, but because she loved having her arms around her man.
The two men throttled their bikes, letting the noise flood the street, then each let out a warrior cry as they took off.
One day soon she’d get her own bike. But right now, getting to ride behind Zane seemed the best of both worlds.
The vibration of the machine, her arms around the man she loved, and the feel of the wind blowing her hair a dozen different ways was more than she’d ever hoped to know in the entire course of her life.
Now she had all this and a baby growing inside her, and Zane’s wonderful, willful vampire daughter.
Zane’s deep voice penetrated her mind, making her ache for him.
I love you, sweetheart,
he said
.
And there was that word. A word she was sure she’d never tire of hearing.
Sweetheart.
I love you, too, Zane of Swanicott. More than shifting or bounding through the air or even swimming in the beautiful pond near your treehouse complex. Sweet Goddess, yes, I love you.
Thank you for reading
EMBRACE THE WIND
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RAPTURE’S EDGE – 1 - AWAKENING!
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Caris Roane is the New York Times Bestselling author of 74 books. Currently she writes paranormal romance, both as a self-published author and for St. Martin’s Press. She began her career writing Regency romance for Kensington publishing and was awarded the prestigious Romantic Times Career Achievement Award in Regency Romance in 2005. Caris currently lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her two cats, Sebastien and Gizzy, and she really doesn’t like scorpions!
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