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“Promise me you will give up this foolish idea of retirement. My boys will need you, Jennifer. You are the only one they relate to,” he said and took her hand.
“General? You are scaring me,” she said.
“I’m sorry, dear. I hate to burden you, but you see, I am dying.” After a moment, he continued, “I suppose I should be the one who’s afraid.”
Arthur stopped speaking as his four sons entered the room, making enough noise so they could not have heard his private conversation with Jennifer. His heart constricted with pride, swelled with love, and ached with sorrow as he looked at each of them.
They had given him so much, had made him a father, and his beloved wife a mother, when science and nature could not. Sadness enveloped him, but he pushed it away, the soldier in him unwilling to give in to anguish.
“Dad?” Jasper asked, head cocked to the side.
It had been days since they’d all been together and, seeing as how they had just returned from a workout, their senses would be particularly acute. He inhaled, stricken eyes flashing to Arthur’s.
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Please, boys, sit,” he ordered his sons, taking a moment to look at the four powerful and handsome males.
They were older than they looked, but so young in terms of their kind. Supernaturals could live several lifetimes for any normal. The General had worked with enough paranormals to never underestimate their age, strength, speed, or intelligence.
“The best way to give bad news is a lot like ripping off a band aid. You have to do it quickly,” he told them. “Well, here it goes. Boys, I’ve been diagnosed with cancer. It’s terminal and inoperable. I have a little time left—”
“No!”
“There must be something we can do!” Zircon interrupted, but one look quieted his youngest.
He’d raised the four brothers as his own sons from the time they were hatchlings at almost fifty years ago now. He had no regrets about that. His darling Anne could not bear their children, and she’d welcomed the four rambunctious Shifters into their house with open arms. She passed away almost ten years ago now, and it had been very hard on all of them.
“Listen to me because I know you all know I am neither careless, nor do I appreciate having to repeat myself.”
All four of his sons nodded, and each squirmed a little in his own seat. It amused Arthur to still have that effect on them, but he showed no sign of that emotion when he continued.
“I have been seen by the best doctors. I have anywhere from six weeks to six months left. Maybe more, maybe less,” he repeated his diagnosis, noting the pain and confusion in their eyes with an echoing sadness in his heart.
“Now, I expect you to listen, to learn, and to give Ms. Dylluan your complete attention while I submit to the meddlesome care of my doctors. She will stay on as your handler even after I am gone,” he announced, meeting her eyes where she stared back at him, her silent agreement shining in them.
The Owl Shifter was the consummate professional. He knew he could count on her. He also knew that he could always depend on his boys. They were good boys at heart, even if a little wild.
“I know you’ve expressed interest in exploring other avenues of interest, and I applaud your aptitude, but the world still needs you. Please do not give Ms. Dylluan a difficult time. Now, I have contacted my lawyers, and have handed over the estate to each of you now in equal shares before my death. That way, there will be no period of probate or waiting. After we eat, we will sign the papers,” he stated.
“Dad, I don’t care about the money—” Heliodore interrupted, but the General raised his hand to silence him.
“Money is not important until you need it. You are my sons, what is mine is yours. Now, let’s eat lunch.”
Arthur Wessex pressed the button on the intercom and called for their lunch to be brought in. His wife’s family’s mansion was old and large, nestled in the woods in northern New Jersey, on the edge of Morris County.
He had always loved the old place and the grounds, especially. The large, untouched woods were part of the deed he would gift to his sons, making himself happy because he knew they would take care of the land.
He’d been blessed with this wonderful place to raise his boys, and he did not regret a moment of it. No, he supposed lunch would not be a happy affair today, but they would behave with decorum and respect. They would use the manners he and his late wife had taught them from birth.
He hated leaving. Arthur would worry about each of them—he supposed that would never stop—and he would miss them. But the General would not dwell on that.
Not today.
After they’d eaten, Jasper excused himself and went outside to the gardens. Arthur recognized the expression on his eldest’s face. The boy,no, the man was angry with him.
He followed him outside, lighting an old Cuban that he’d been given as a gift back when he’d retired his position with the army.
“You waited a long time to smoke that,” Jasper remarked. He’d always been thoughtful and deceptively attentive.
