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The panic in her voice only escalated his wolf’s agitation. Something was wrong, more than the fact his mate was alive when he’d thought otherwise for so long. Max stepped back and held the door wide. “It’s all right. Just come in.”
“Thank you, but I think I have to explain something first. There’s someone here you need to meet. Someone who’s wanted to meet you for a long time.” Sarah looked over her shoulder again, but this time she wasn’t looking off into the night for monsters. She stepped slightly to the side. “Come on, honey.”
A teenager stepped into the yellow pool of the porch light. If Hunter was a mix of Max and Sarah, then this girl was an equal mix of them in the opposite way. Her hair was almost the exact same shade as Sarah’s, dark and light blonde mixing in a natural blend of highlights. His own eyes stared at him, terrified, exhausted, expectant. The familiarity of her face stunned him, and he gripped the doorknob until his knuckles hurt. If she’d been dressed differently and turned her face just a little to the side, she’d look exactly like his mother in one of the old framed photos in the hallway.
“Max, this is your daughter, Ava.” Sarah’s chest heaved as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. “I was pregnant when I walked out of the house that night, but I didn’t know. My father had his men come after me, and they’ve been holding me ever since. I wanted so badly for you to know, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get away, not until now.”
There were so many questions swirling through Max’s brain that he could hardly tell one from the other or know where to start. His wolf reminded him once again of the panic in Sarah’s voice. He knew she wasn’t scared of him. Something else was going on here. “Come in. Just come in.”
Sarah stepped through the doorway with Ava on her heels. She stopped in the entryway, her hands knotted in front of her. “I’m really sorry about all of this, Max.”
“No, it’s…” He stared at them in turn. He was about to say it was all right, but it wasn’t. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be all right again. They’d been out there in the world all this time. His wolf had tried to tell him, nagging the back of his mind with those tugging feelings that he’d brushed off. Max’s job as a mate and father was to protect those he loved. He didn’t yet understand what had happened, but he knew he’d failed. His eyes traced down to the thick silver collars that lay heavily around their necks and drove the truth home.
His eyes burned, and he didn’t even try to stop the tears as they blurred his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Max reached his arms out toward his daughter, the daughter he’d never even known he had. When she stepped into them, sobs racked his lungs. He held her tightly, his hands touching her hair, her shoulders. She was real. He had a daughter, and she had her arms wrapped around him just as tightly.
When he managed to blink his eyes clear, Sarah was watching them. There had been a hardness and desperation to her face when he’d first opened the door, but now he could see she was getting just as emotional as he was. His heart reached out for her. Not just his wolf, not just the animal side of him that was bonded to her forever, but the very human side that’d been so hurt by her absence.
Letting go of Ava, he pulled Sarah into his arms and felt her hot tears sink through his shirt.
6
Sarah closedher eyes and focused on just how good it felt to lay her cheek against Max’s broad chest again. Even his scent was the same: bergamot and citrus buried in cedar and sage. She felt her body relax, melting into his.
Her wolf had guided her way to the Glenwood packhouse, even through the dark, overgrown woods. She’d taken one turn and then another, instinctively knowing they were heading in the right direction. It was this pull between them that twisted inside her right now, like a magnet that demanded she get as close to him as possible. For so long, the beast inside her had been on guard. It couldn’t let go of that, not yet, but she felt the relief of knowing she wasn’t alone.
Yanking her head up, Sarah took a deep breath and a step backward. She couldn’t let herself wallow in the comforting way he felt. She couldn’t even let herself take too much delight in the attractive way Max had aged. There were silver flecks in his otherwise dark stubble, which she had to admit was pretty damn sexy. She’d always loved the way his nearly black hair had contrasted with those bright blue eyes. His shoulders were wider than she remembered, his mature body no longer retaining the wiry slimness of youth. It would be so easy to fall into his arms again and never let go.
There were more important matters at hand. “Max, there’s so much I need to tell you.”
“Yeah.” He swiped the back of his hand across his cheekbone and gave Ava a fond look. “I’d say so.”
“There’s a good chance that some of my pack followed us. They’ve probably figured out by now that we’re gone, and this very well may be one of the first places they look.” She swallowed, hating that she had to put him in a position of immediately agreeing to protect them. He’d been her mate, and he was Ava’s father. She’d always felt safe with the Glenwoods, and she’d hoped beyond all hope that they would help, but she still understood just how unfair this was.
Max’s jaw flexed as he turned to flick the deadbolt on the front door. He moved past Ava and yanked the curtains shut on the front window. “You know you don’t have anything to worry about here. If that bastard is even brave enough to show up, he’s not getting in.”
She wanted to believe him. After all, that was exactly why she’d headed for the Glenwood packhouse. But Edward had been unstoppable up to that point. He’d managed to keep her locked away, and nothing had changed his mind. He would undoubtedly see her escape as yet another defiance and feel the need to avenge it. Sarah glanced at Ava and the dark shadows that’d formed under her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Sit down.” He ushered them into the living room and perched himself on the edge of a wingback chair. He braced his elbows on his legs and leaned forward, watching them both intensely. “There’s so much I want to know. I don’t really know where to start, but we have to start somewhere. Edward came to me the night you disappeared and told me that he’d had you killed. Where has he been keeping you all this time? And why?”
“In the basement of the Greystone packhouse.” Somehow, saying it aloud made it much worse than just knowing it. Perhaps it was because she was telling him. Sarah sniffled and straightened up on the loveseat where she’d settled next to Ava. “As for why, I really can’t say. He told me you were under the impression that I was dead, and many times since then, I’ve wondered why he didn’t kill me. It isn’t because he has a soft spot for me; I can tell you that much.”
He cursed under his breath, an oath that Sarah thought she recognized but couldn’t quite hear clearly. His hands curled into fists. “I’ll never understand that bastard. Sorry.” He directed this last part toward Ava.
“Oh, you don’t have to apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s not my grandfather, not as far as I’m concerned.”
“Right.” He took a controlled breath that almost sounded like a growl when he let it out.
Sarah knew what that meant. He always did that when he was pissed. Not that she blamed him. If she wasn’t so exhausted from their hasty escape, she’d be pissed right now too. Sarah bit her lip. There was something else she needed to ask him, though it made her uneasy. As soon as she and Ava had started concocting their scheme, she knew there was some risk to it.
Then there were the risks of being caught, killed, or ruining someone’s life by showing up. What if Max had moved on? She couldn’t expect him to be alone for the rest of his life. They were true mates, and of that she had no doubt, but she wouldn’t blame him in the least if he’d found someone who brought him happiness. She still needed to ask about Hunter, another question that made her nervous in a different way, but she’d start here for now. “Max, I really don’t mean to intrude on your life. I know it’s been a long time, and I don’t expect anything.”
His gaze had been on Ava still, taking her in as though he could hardly believe she was real, but his eyes snapped to Sarah’s so quickly that her tongue stilled. “You’re not intruding, Sarah. I wouldn’t want you to go anywhere else for help. I’m still blown away by all of this, and I know there are things I should be doing, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” He put his hands on the arms of the chair as though he was about to get up, but he only patted his palms against the upholstery.
“Did I hear someone at the door?” Joan swept into the room from the hallway. “I thought it might be Ellen swinging by to drop off a book she was going to lend me, and—Sarah?” She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she came far enough into the room to see who was sitting on the loveseat.
“Joan.” Sarah felt her lips trembling all over again. Joan Glenwood had always been so sweet and welcoming. In fact, her warm attitude had made Sarah feel guilty time and again that Max had never been able to experience the same thing at the packhouse where she’d grown up. Over the years, she’d come to think of Joan as a second mother. Slowly, her limbs threatening to give way after such a long run, she stood. “Hi.”
“Is this possible?” Joan took a hesitant step forward, the flowing sleeves of her deep purple dress falling back as she lifted her hands up to Sarah’s face and rested her fingers on her cheeks. “I know that I have some crazy dreams, but this feels awfully real.”
