Tanner shook his head. “No, of course not. There’s only what, twelve or thirteen years between them? I mean, you guys are remote, but not cult-child-bride remote. Well, not yet,” he laughed. “No, they shared a father. All her paternal markers matched with the ones I had from Gatlin’s file, when I did his lineage profiles.”
“The old Alpha General is Kitten’s biological father?”
Tanner nodded. “Yep.” He looked over at Kit. “He sounds like a prejudiced cuntwaffle though, so I don’t think you missed much not having that Hallmark moment. Not a single person had anything nice to say about him, especially not Gatlin.”
“Does Gatlin know?” I asked, and Tanner shook his head.
“Nah, I thought Kitten should know first. It’s her DNA test, after all. But I’ll have to tell them eventually, considering their cubs and yours will share a bloodline and they’ll make up a large portion of the next generation of Manix. The Alpha General—the new one, I mean—made the right decision tracing all this. Though you guys probably would have already been out of luck, considering your connection to Finlo Grey. So fucking convoluted, right? Your family historians are gonna need a whole ball of red yarn to trace this craziness.” He chuckled again. “Do you have any questions?”
Kitten shook her head, but she looked thoroughly shellshocked, making me wonder if maybe I should get Tanner to check her out.
The doctor’s face softened. “No worries, Kitten. Just let me know when you think of something. I’m always available. I’m a bit of a night owl, you know? Or a night bat. Ha, get it? Because I’m a vampire. Though we don’t actually turn into bats, but that would be awesome.” He grabbed a small stack of papers. “Here, this is for you guys. Has all your DNA results in it, and the rough pedigree I mapped out for you.” I took the manila folder from him, before helping Kit to her feet. “Tell Darius that he should come in for another checkup soon.”
I thanked Tanner, and we headed out the door. I led Kit back to the ATV, refusing to let go of her hand. I wanted her to know I was here for her.
“You okay? Is there something you want me to do?”
She shook her head, but then hesitated. “Could we go back to my home?”
I nodded, trying to keep the disappointment off my face. She still didn’t consider the Packhouse her home, which part of me understood. The Beast, however, growled at me to lift my fucking game before we lost our Omega.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
When we madeit to the cabin, Kitten went in by herself, asking for time alone. As much as I wanted to say no, wanted to bundle her up in my arms and tell her that this didn’t change a thing, I respected her wishes.
I paced a track in the clearing around the cabin, messaging the guys to give them the Cliff Notes version of what happened. They all immediately wanted to drop what they were doing and come out here, but I told them no. If Kitten wanted space, I didn’t think she’d appreciate the whole Pack crowding around her in an overprotective huddle.
I tried to imagine a little Kitten running around here, catching rabbits, exploring the world, talking to the forest. It wasn’t hard to imagine at all. There was still that wildness in her, despite the fact she’d been living in civilization for the last few months.
Finally, I got bored and went to the wood pile behind the house to start splitting logs. I needed something to keep my body active and my mind distracted. Soon enough, I was sweating, there was a stack of logs halfway up the side of the cabin, and the dusk was beginning to settle over the mountains. I laid the ax down and picked up my shirt, shucking it back over my head.
A small hum of disappointment had me whipping my gaze back toward the house. Kitten sat on the back step, her chin on her knees. A small smile curled her lips, but she still smelled sad.
“Kitten! Why didn’t you tell me you’d come out?”
She shrugged. “Free chopped wood and a view? Too good to pass up.”
If she was making jokes, that meant she was okay now, right? I wandered over to her, sweat making my shirt stick to my skin. I sat down so our bodies were pressed together, but I didn’t bundle her into my lap like I wanted to. Instead, I just sat with her in silence as my phone blew up in my pocket.
After the thirtieth text, Kitten raised a brow at me. “Think you should answer that?”
“Probably. The guys are worried about you. I told them to stay away, but that was basically like a wounded deer cry. They want to be here more than anything.”
She sighed and rested her head on my shoulder. “Sorry. I just needed to be out here. To try to go back to a moment when everything made sense.”
I kissed her head, giving in to the urge to wrap my arm around her and pull her even closer to my body. “Things still make sense, Kit. They’re just a little more complicated. You’re still Kitten, the same girl who ran wild through these forests, who hunted and survived like a badass. Lorso still loved you—enough to protect you from the greatest threat to the child he thought of as a cub. Enough to ostracize himself from society and paint his people as monsters.
“You still have us, and we still love you. Yes, you have a new half-brother, if you want, but that’s not a big deal either. Half of Maxton is fucking related, which is why Tanner had to undertake that ridiculousness anyway. In a few more months, we’ll have cubs, and they’ll be a little part of you too. None of these things are confusing; they’re only facts, and it’s just how you feel about them that might be confusing. But you won’t find answers in the past, Kit. The past has no bearing over your future.”
We sat in silence for a little longer, until finally she shifted beneath my arm. “We better go home. The others will be worried.”
I kissed her temple. “Okay, Kit.” I gave her one more squeeze. “You know I’m hopelessly in love with you, right?”
She tilted her head, looking up at me with her face washed in the dying red of the setting sun, and she smiled. “I know. I love you too, Coop.”
26
KITTEN
