As Bastien watched, Luc set aside the tablet to go down to the blanket. Tickling Naya gently on the bottoms of tiny feet covered by the sunny yellow fabric of her footsie pants, he pushed up her fluffy white sweater to blow a raspberry against her stomach, his hair the same rich black as his cub’s.
Naya’s giggles floated on the air, her delight infectious.
“She doesn’t bite, Bas.” An amused glance.
“I was taking a photo for Mom.” Sliding away his phone, he sprawled on the blanket on his back, and—with a glance at Lucas—picked Naya up to place her on his chest. She batted at him with baby fists, her smile sweet and innocent. Catching those soft hands, he pretended to bite and growl, which made her convulse in laughter in the way only babies could.
“And the patented Smith charm strikes again.” The dry comment had barely left Lucas’s mouth when his phone beeped.
Grabbing it from the table without leaving his seated position on the picnic blanket, he spent a couple of minutes discussing a timetable change relating to a construction project for which Bastien was handling the finances. When he hung up, it was to give Bastien his full attention. “What is it?” The question of an alpha to a member of his pack, not one man to another.
His leopard immediately aware of the difference, Bastien rose to a sitting position, too, and placed Naya carefully on her back on the blanket, where she grabbed her daddy’s hand to gum at his fingers. “There might be a situation.” It was difficult to speak past his protectiveness where Kirby was concerned, but he forced himself to lay it all out.
Panther-green eyes watched him without interrupting until he was done. “You’re convinced she doesn’t know?”
“She’s not a liar, Luc.” Of that, both parts of his nature were in snarling agreement. “Whatever this is, it’s not a case of her attempting to sneak into our territory.”
“All right.” Lucas leaned down to lightly tap his daughter on the tip of her nose in what was clearly a game between them, Naya’s tiny hands trying to catch his finger; each miss made her laugh that open, bright laugh, and try again. “Stay on top of it and keep me posted.”
Bastien blinked. “Just like that?” Given the volatile political climate, the entire pack on alert for signs of aggression from any corner, he’d expected more of an inquisition.
Lucas’s lips curved. “I can scent blood—you’ve cut your palms with your claws, you’ve been fighting so hard not to go for my throat because I questioned you about your Kirby.”
Bastien stared at his palms, having not realized what he’d done.
“And,” Lucas continued, allowing his daughter to catch his finger to her gleeful cry, “since you’re one of the most stable, centered members of the pack, your loyalty beyond question, it’s pretty damn obvious she isn’t just a friend or a casual lover.”
“She’s mine,” Bastien answered simply.
Lucas picked Naya up to cradle her against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “No alpha worth his salt gets between another leopard and his woman.” Steady eye contact, alpha to packmate, dominant to dominant. “You’re no green boy, Bas. I trust your judgment.”
That, Bastien thought, was why Lucas was alpha. It wasn’t only about brute strength, but about the intelligence to know his people, and the heart to have faith in them. “I know you have to inform the senior people in the pack about her being in the territory”—ensuring Kirby’s safety—“but do you mind if I tell Mercy?” His sister and her mate were currently out of state, touching base with the falcons.
“Why don’t you talk to her when she and Riley return from Arizona?” Lucas glanced down as his cub yawned, the smile on the DarkRiver alpha’s face gentler than Bastien had ever before seen. “I’d think about talking to Dorian, too, soon as possible.”
The blond sentinel, Bastien had already figured out, was the only one who’d been through anything that might be analogous to Kirby’s situation. “I was planning to call him from the car.” Reaching out, he touched Naya’s fisted hand where it lay against Lucas’s heart and the baby curled her delicate fingers around his. “How do you bear it, Luc?” he murmured, his own heart raw with emotion for this small new packmate. “She’s so vulnerable, so fragile.”
Lucas’s panther looked out at Bastien through a human face. “Would you die to protect her?”
“That’s not even a question.” Bastien would bleed for any of his packmates, but the smallest, most vulnerable had a special place in all their hearts.
“That’s how I bear it,” Lucas said. “By reminding myself that every man, woman, and juvenile in this pack would fight to their last breath to protect her from harm.” A soothing rumble in his chest as Naya made a tiny sound, the leopard speaking to its cub. “We’re family, Bas, and family stands together. Whatever’s going on with your Kirby, we’ll figure it out.”
The words centered him, calmed his leopard. No matter what, Kirby was no longer alone. She had him—and she had the strength of DarkRiver behind her.
BASTIEN had just hit the edge of the city, having spent a good forty minutes talking to Dorian about what it had been like to shift after a lifetime of being latent, when he received another call. “Kirby?” he said, having programmed her number into his phone.
“Bastien.” A shuddering breath. “I—c-can you come get me? I’ve taken the rest of the day off, arranged a substitute.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He pulled up to find Kirby waiting a few meters up from the kindergarten. “I’m sorry,” she said as soon as he got out of the driver’s seat. “I didn’t know who else to call.” Her eyes huge, she swallowed. “You must’ve been doing something important.”
“Shh.” Enfolding her trembling body in his arms, he ran his hand firmly up and down her back, making sure to touch the bare skin of her nape with each stroke. “I’m glad you called me.”
He could’ve held her forever, but he was conscious that though quiet, this was a public spot. More important, it was near Kirby’s place of work. “Come on, little cat. We’ll go somewhere private to talk.”
Once he had her in the car, he turned up the heater full blast and drove them a short distance to a city park dotted with comparatively small evergreens, around which meandered a walking path. Today, it was empty, the grass a deep jewel green under sunlight. Bastien got out as soon as they arrived, viscerally aware of Kirby’s continued distress, and sensing she’d do better out in the open.
Kirby didn’t argue when he drew her into the park, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders so he could cuddle her close. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Stopping, she turned into him beside the straight trunk of a young pine. “Something strange is happening to me.” The words were utterly inadequate to express the raging chaos within her, but they were all Kirby had.
“Go on.”
Bastien’s steady gaze, his deep voice, his touch—oh, how she loved the way he touched her so readily—it gave her an anchor as she described her strange madness. “I was in the back room getting a drink of water for one of the children,” she began, still unable to make sense of it, “and all at once, I could hear every single child in the main room. Not just a blur of voices, but specific voices, each word crystal clear.”
Rubbing her hands over her face, she tucked back the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I dismissed it as a weird acoustic effect when it faded after a few seconds,” she said, her heart beginning to race again as it had then. “Then I walked out with the water . . . and into an avalanche of scent. I couldn’t breathe, felt as if I’d suffocate under the weight of it.”
Eyes intent, Bastien ran his free hand up and down her arm, his other one still strong and warm around her shoulders, but didn’t interrupt.
“I dropped the water”—thank God it had been a plas cup meant for little hands—“and it went all over the carpet. The scents disappeared almost at the same time, but I knew I couldn’t stay, risk the children when I couldn’t predict what might happen next.”