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When Lucan started to stalk toward the door, Tegan stepped in front of him. "Nothing, my ass. I don't need to touch you for an emotional well-check to know that something's got you freaked out. I don't think it's got anything to do with Chase or this new wrinkle Tavia Fairchild has caused. I don't even think it's got much to do with Dragos." The warrior stared harder at Lucan now, as though he could see right through him. "What's going on with you and Gabrielle?" Lucan felt his chin go up in defense, a cold spark shooting through his veins. "Has she said anything to you? To Elise? What the fuck have you heard, Tegan?"
Tegan shook his tawny head. "Haven't heard a thing. But I pay attention. She's walking around lately like there's a hole in her heart, and you look like you're about to lose your best friend."
Shit. He wanted to deny it, but there was little point trying to dodge Tegan now. Not when Lucan's face had to be telling Tegan how right he actually was. "I'm fucking things up with her. I knew when that female first came into my life that she deserved someone who could give her a life worthy of her. A safe life, a happy life. Not this endless upheaval and war."
Tegan narrowed a look on him. "Gabrielle's never struck me as the kind to go into anything with her eyes closed. When she chose you, she did it knowing exactly what she was getting into. Everyone under this roof knows there's nothing you wouldn't do for her."
"Except give her a son." Lucan felt the words slip out of his mouth before he could bite them back. Much as it killed him to admit it, he was glad his guilt was finally out there. Keeping it inside had been a festering sore that only bored deeper into his soul every second he held it back. "That's what she wants from me, Tegan - a child. And I can't give it to her. Not now. Not when I know this war with Dragos could eventually rip our son from her arms. And not when I can't see a clear future that isn't swamped with violence and corruption. This is no goddamn time to be bringing another innocent life into the world."
Tegan had gone very quiet now. Studying Lucan. Reflecting on something deep inside himself. Finally he gave a mild shrug. "Maybe it isn't, Lucan. Then again, maybe there's never been a better time. Maybe right now we all need a little hope."
Lucan stared, dumbstruck, realization dawning on him as subtly as a freight train. "You and Elise?"
"Yeah." Tegan's chuckle burst from him, full of a mystified wonder that Lucan had never heard in the warrior. Not in the five long centuries the two had known each other.
"Goddamn, T. Congratulations." He reached out and clapped his palm to his friend's thick shoulder, then pulled him into a brief, brotherly embrace. "How far along is she?"
Tegan's smile only deepened. "Not long. She conceived just a few nights ago."
Lucan thought back to the recent crescent moon phase, the brief cycle of fertility for blood- bonded Breedmates. While he was pushing Gabrielle away, Tegan and Elise were making a new life together.
Although Lucan was rife with shame for the fear that had kept him from sanctifying his own bond with Gabrielle, he couldn't deny his goodwill for Tegan and his beloved mate. "A Breed child couldn't hope for better, more loving parents. I mean that, my friend. I am truly happy for you and Elise."
The warrior nodded solemnly. "Knowing our son is on the way only gives me more cause to make this world a better place. For all our sons, Lucan."
He wanted to agree, to say he felt the same hope for the future none of them could predict, but Lucan's tongue stayed cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Tegan nodded. He understood. He, of all the warriors of the Order - down the many centuries since its original formation - knew the dread that was eating Lucan up inside.
Tegan knew it - he had to feel it himself - and yet he'd found the strength to put aside his fear and take an enormous leap of faith.
Lucan wanted to believe he had that in him too.
But the dread was an ache that refused to let him go.
TAVIA HAD NOT BEEN at all prepared for the familial atmosphere that greeted Chase and her on their arrival at the Order's headquarters. Based on the weapons and combat attire of their escorts out of Boston, she'd expected more of the same once she stepped inside the stone-and- timber fortress where they lived.
But it felt like a home more than the military-style bunker she'd anticipated. She could even see a roaring fire on the hearth of the great room just off the foyer and an enormous pine, trimmed with handmade ornaments, festive ribbon bows, and popcorn garlands. She didn't know what packed the bigger punch: the homespun Christmas vibe of the place, or the fact that she was standing in the midst of half a dozen heavily armed vampires and their mates yet had never felt more welcome or at ease.
Renata had made quick introductions for her while Nikolai and Hunter kept a close eye on Chase across the foyer. Tavia marveled at the beautiful women who were mated to some of the members of the Order: Dylan, with her mane of fiery red hair and peachy freckles; Alex, an athletic brown-eyed blonde with a quick, friendly smile; petite Corinne, whose long ebony hair and delicate features might have made her seem fragile if not for the steely resolve in her greenish-blue gaze; and Jenna, the human female Tavia had heard about on the drive north.
The pretty brunette had come into the foyer just a moment ago, leaning just a little on the arm of her mate, Brock. The towering Breed male's dark face was drawn with unmistakable concern, all of it focused on her.
"How'd it go tonight?" Renata asked the pair after they'd had the chance to meet Tavia. "Any luck with Claire and the dream-walking?"
Jenna gave an eager nod. "We got something new this time. I'm not sure what it means yet, but Claire and I documented everything. As awful as it was to be in the nightmare - to be living it like my own memories - I also can't wait to go in again and try to bring back something more." Beside her, Brock emitted a quiet growl and muttered something about hardheaded females.
Jenna wrapped her arms around him and gazed up into his dread-filled eyes.
"He worries," she told Tavia and the others, giving him a private smile.
"He loves you," the big warrior quipped right back, his voice as solemn as his gaze.
"Tavia, can I look at your glyphs?" The abrupt request came from Mira, a child of about eight or nine years who'd been among the first to greet Tavia on her arrival and had been watching her with rapt interest ever since.
"Mouse," Renata admonished her, shaking her head in exasperation. "Manners, young lady." "Sorry." The flaxen-haired imp huffed out a remorseful sigh. "Tavia, may I please look at your glyphs?"
"That's not exactly what I meant, Mouse." Renata's expression was as mortified as any mother of a precocious child, even though her voice held a tinge of amusement. "It's not polite to ask something like that of someone. Or to stare."
"No," Tavia replied. "It's okay, really. I don't mind."
