Page 80 of Crimson Moon Falling

Ash studied him, his gaze steady and unnervingly perceptive. “Did you call her back?”

Guilt pricked at him. He’d meant to, but the Pack Council had devoured his time. “No. Let’s head back to the suite.” Suddenly, he had a strong urge to go to her.

When they walked into the suite, Conall threw his jacket over the back of the couch in the living area and pulled out his phone to find her contact. Her contact photo popped up. It was a picture he’d snapped in Colorado when they’d been out riding horses. Her dark hair shone in the late-afternoon sun, her white streak falling across her face. She had that calm but guarded look in her eyes.

Right before he tapped the call icon, another call came in. Conall frowned as he noticed it was a Canadian number.

“This is Segerson.”

“Alpha Segerson, this is Alpha Whitlock.” The other Alpha’s voice sounded measured and cautious. “I apologize for the interruption. How are your U.S. Pack Council talks going?”

Something shifted in the air, almost like a premonition. The faintest edge of his Tracker ability woke as his wolf stirred.

“It’s a pain in my ass and a complete shitshow, so the same old. What’s going on?”

“I’m calling about Anna.”

Conall’s grip on his phone tightened. The woman had caused so much pain and trouble. Even hearing her name made his hackles rise.

“What about her?”

Another pause, longer this time. Conall could picture Whitlock in his study behind his massive mahogany desk, carefully choosing his words.

“Anna gave birth last night to a healthy little female shifter. She weighs seven pounds, four ounces.”

His mouth went dry. “Who’s the father?”

“We ran a DNA test immediately. Conall, your markers are a fifty percent match.”

Fifty percent. Conall’s mind raced. What did that mean? Fuck, he wished Riley were here. He forced himself to focus and do the math with brutal efficiency. Fifty percent meant a sibling, parent, or offspring, which left one possibility.

Owen.

“We don’t have a confirmed sample from your brother,” Whitlock was saying, “but the probability is extremely high since your father is dead.”

His brother. His insecure, cruel, rage-filled brother. The same brother who used to crawl into bed with him late at night after their father berated or beat them for some stupid infraction. The same brother who’d sneak him food when he was being punished and re-homed Conall’s favorite dog so his father couldn’t put the little border collie down.

His wolf clawed and snarled inside him as his Pack bond flared white-hot with rage, a surge so violent it nearly blinded him. Ash let out a pained grunt.

“There’s more.” The Alpha’s voice was quieter, as if sensing Conall’s mood. “Anna rejected the child. She refused to hold or name her. Fuck, I’m sorry, Conall, but I think you have a right to know. During the pregnancy, she made two attempts to harm herself and the child. We have her under watch. She’s stable, but not in a good place mentally.”

Conall’s vision narrowed, the edges tinged with gold. The glass in his hand shattered, sending shards and pungent alcohol onto his lap. Ash went still, his dark eyes assessing Conall as blood dripped from his hand.

“The child is healthy, and she’s being cared for, but we wanted you to know.”

“Don’t let Alistair or Anna near the infant. My brother will be there tomorrow to execute his parental claim.”

“Conall–”

“Don’t fuck with me on this. I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call and set his phone on the coffee table so he didn’t break it.

Ash’s face was carefully neutral. “The father of Anna’s child is Owen.”

“That stupid fucking jackass.” His wolf wanted out, wanted to hunt, wanted to sink its teeth into his brother and shake until something broke. The bond thrummed with it, a snarl of pure, animal rage.

Ash exhaled slowly. “You’re sure.”

“Yes.” Conall’s fist unclenched, sending glass fragments clattering onto the coffee table.