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  * * * *

  "She is enjoying coffee with her mates in the library, Sebastian."

  He couldn't help it. Sebastian winced. He'd thought he was ready to face his failures, but apparently he was being outted as a coward.

  "Is there a problem?" Roberto pressed him.

  "I'm…nervous." Admitting that galled him. He was Alpha, and Alphas rarely showed such weakness.

  "So is she. This is not a situation a wolf often finds himself in."

  Sebastian snorted, baring his teeth in frustration. "One should hope not."

  Roberto placed a hand on his shoulder, something he rarely did. "I was there for you then. I am here for you now. You did all you could. Your daughter will understand that."

  "I did too much. I only hope she will understand."

  Roberto straightened, glaring at him. It was all Sebastian could do not to squirm in place.

  It's because he was my bodyguard when I was a child. Early lessons die hard.

  Sebastian scowled at him, and Roberto smiled, showing fangs.

  "You're good, old man. I'll give you that. But don't push me too far."

  "Never, sir. I wouldn't dream of it."

  Right. Sebastian smoothed his shirt, then took a calming breath. "It's time." Far past time.

  Roberto didn't presume to follow him. On some level, that was better. If he made a fool of himself, it was probably better for his servant not to witness it.

  He's witnessed more than a few of my mistakes.

  Sebastian made his way down the corridor and slipped into the library. His breath caught in his lungs at the sight of her. My daughter. In my home. At last.

  She didn't notice his entrance. Samara was busy examining the portrait on the far wall.

  "That was your grandmother. My mother. You look quite a bit like her."

  Samara whirled around. For a moment, she performed a slow visual assessment of him. Then her shoulders eased. "Was. I guess that means she's…passed away. I would have liked to have met her."

  "She would have loved to have met you, too." It wasn't a stretch of the truth. His mother would have doted on Samara.

  "Why didn't she?" It was a blunt question.

  Oh, but you are a perceptive one. "If I had told my parents about you, they would never have let me live to the agreement I made with your mother."

  Her color drained away. "I see."

  You don't. You really don't. "Please, allow me to explain."

  For a moment, he was sure she was going to refuse, storm out, walk away from him right there.

  At last, Samara nodded. "I promised to hear you out calmly. I can't guarantee the calm part, but I'll hear you out."

  More than I'd hoped for. Sebastian proffered his hand. "Over lunch. Roberto will be setting it out now."

  Samara hesitated and her mates came to her side. They led her toward the door.

  Sebastian stared at his hand for a moment, his heart aching. Give her time. She doesn't even know the truth yet.

  That could be good or bad for me.

  * * * *

  Samara settled into the chair Roberto offered at the foot of the table. She considered pushing the plate away. It was filled with her favorites, but she wasn't sure she could stomach it.

  Her father sat at the opposite end. He waved off the plate Roberto offered.

  Is he as nervous as I am? Maybe so, but what did it matter?

  Roberto took his leave and disappeared into the kitchen. Silence fell around the table.

  "I suppose you should know who I am, to start with."

  "That makes sense," Samara conceded.

  "My name is Sebastian Travalian."

  It had a nice ring to it. I won't be using it. I'm a Trudale now.

  "I met your mother when I was visiting America. Our kind maintains a close kinship with many human groups, including several Native American nations. I was there to revisit and revitalize our pacts with them.

  "I knew Florence was my mate. There was really no question that she was. I also knew she reeked of another male…a male I soon learned was her husband."

  Samara's temper simmered, and she did her best to hold it in check. "You knew she was married and decided to break up her marriage?"

  His jaw tightened. "I don't mean to speak ill of your mother, but—"

  "Oh, don't stand on ceremony. I know what she's like."

  That drew a wry smile from him. "Yes. So do I." A look of misery replaced it. "Your mother was more than willing to carry on an affair with me. She's quite convincing, and I truly believed she intended to allow me to mark her as my mate."

  "You knew my mother was married and intended to break up her marriage?" Samara was quickly losing her patience.

  "Yes, damn it, I did." Sebastian motioned for a moment of peace. He took several deep breaths. "I was young, newly advanced to my position. I believed she would choose me over a…mere human. Yes, I admit I was more than a little bigoted back then. And…I was afraid of losing her and never being able to mate." He motioned again, before she could protest. "I've since learned the very hard truth that no mate is better than one you cannot trust."

  Samara considered that. Jason covered her hand with his, and she grasped it, needing their connection. James did the same on the other side.

  She couldn't imagine life alone after being part of their mating. "I see."

  "When she caught pregnant with you, I pushed the issue. It was time to end the dalliance we were carrying on and for her to commit to what we…were to each other."

  "And she refused you." Samara didn't question it.

  He swallowed what looked—from his expression—like a sour wave of disgust. "In a word…yes. I wasn't content with her decision, of course, but Florence threatened to expose what she knew of our kind.

  "Sure, most people would think she was a crackpot, but there are societies of people, enemies of our kind. They are always listening for news of us, for disgruntled humans who will point the way. Mind you, it wasn't just a duty to our people that convinced me to back down. If Florence shared the wrong stories about me… They would kill you, Samara. And I wouldn't be with you to protect you."

  James squeezed her hand, then loosened his grip. "Leaving her unprotected had to be a torture."

  Sebastian laughed harshly. "That was one thing I refused to do."

  "I don't understand," Samara admitted.

  He sighed. "I made a deal with your mother—a deal that ensured your protection. I would walk away and let her and her…husband raise my child."

  "He's a good man," Samara argued. "I know you have your reasons for disliking the situation she created, but if it had to happen that way… I couldn't have had a better father raise me."

  Sebastian waved her down. "I know. Had he ever been a danger to you… Had he not been the perfect father, I would have killed him myself, agreements be damned."

  She shivered at the threat, but his admission put a temporary damper on her fury. "So, what was this deal?"

  "They would raise you, happily. I warned her up front that I wouldn't stand for any abuse or neglect of you.

  "She would provide me with updates and pictures of you, as you grew. Florence tried to claim she 'forgot' some of the time, but my men filled in the blanks and—"

  "Men?" Samara questioned. "What men? What were they supposed to do?"

  His face darkened and Sebastian cleared his throat. "I told her a few of my trusted men would stay close, making sure you were safe. Thankfully, they rarely had to intervene in your life, fleeting moments where they…dissuaded someone in the shadows. They also helped train you."

  "Pardon me?" What was he saying?

  "Do you recall two males from your self-defense classes, named Trent and Dale?"

  She nodded. "Two older guys. They were in their late twenties when I was a pre-teen." They were also often paired with her in sparring practice. I learned a lot from them.

  "I'm sure they would like to see you again."

  "I guess I should than
k them."

  Sebastian tipped his head. "Not necessary, but they would certainly be touched if you did."

  "Were there any other parts to this agreement?"

  "Three more. The first was that she wouldn't tell anyone about your wolf heritage or about meeting a wolf." He paused for a moment. "The second was that I wouldn't try to reveal myself directly to you or contact you, unless you sought me out."

  "But…coming here. Pietro Galvani approaching me—"

  "I only promised I wouldn't contact you. That didn't mean I could allow you to remain dangerously ignorant of your inner wolf."

  Samara couldn't argue that. "What was the last part of the agreement?"

  "Your name. If she balked me on that one thing, all bets were off. You were born a wolf, Samara, and I was determined you would have a name from my family. It was the least she owed me, if she wasn't going to give you my last name."

  "Who am I named for?"

  "My mother."

  "The one in the portrait?"

  He smiled. "Yes. I'm glad you favor her; it makes your name all the more fitting."

  "Where do we go from here?"

  Sebastian leaned across the table. "Where do you want to? We could get to know each other, at your comfort level. You're all welcome to stay here with me…Eva and her mate as well. Or you could stay in the dormitory. I would like to get to know you, Samara. The choice of how is your own."

  "I need time to think."

  "Of course."

  * * * *

  Samara twirled in front of the mirror, trying to check from every angle the red dress James had bought her. She still wasn't sure she should wear it tonight.

  As if she'd spoken the thought aloud, the brothers appeared in the bathroom doorway, dressed in matching tailored suits. Their heated gazes gave assurances she hadn't asked for.

  "Yes, I'm obsessing," she admitted.

  "You don't need to," Jason said.

  For the fifth time today. "Now that I have a name for my father, I guess not," Samara quipped in return.

  "Not before that," James corrected her. "But certainly not now."

  "Should I feel judged by his name?" I'm being peevish, but it feels that way.

  "No one would dare," Jason cut in again. "You're not the kind of person who would name drop just to get special treatment—"

  "Like Christiana would," she guessed.

  "Precisely. But if you were to name drop your father, you would find wolves falling all over themselves to ingratiate themselves to you."

  James nodded in agreement. "A fair number of humans as well. Your father isn't a poor man, and he's well known in industrial circles."

  Jason motioned to the room around them. "Everything in these rooms was provided by Sebastian."

  "I see." She hadn't known that. A sneaking suspicion that he had also provided the scholarship plagued her. I won't ask. Not yet. If I found out—right now—that he has, I might walk away. I have to get to know him and find out why he does things.

  Samara made her way back through the bedroom and into the sitting room, lost in thought, her mates trailing in her wake. She glanced at the clock, noting that their parents were expected soon.

  Before she could settle on the couch, there was a knock at the door.

  Early. "Yes?"

  "Your guests, Alpha Samara," one of the household servants replied.

  "Send them in."

  James and Jason stood just behind her and to the sides. It was comforting to feel their heat, to know they were watching her back.

  The door opened and the couple stepped inside. The brothers got their height from their father, but their dark hair and eyes came from their mother.

  Their father tipped his head, but their mother crossed the room and took Samara's hands in her own. She leaned across and kissed Samara on one cheek, then the other.

  "My dear, you are so welcome." Her voice was smooth and lightly accented.

  Spanish, Samara was sure.

  "Thank you."

  James spoke up. "Samara, this is my mother, Aurora, and my father, Jacob Trudale."

  Jacob moved to Aurora's back, offering another tip of his head at the introduction.

  "It's nice to meet you." How Samara managed spit out words, stunned as she was by their mother's beauty, was an uncertain thing.

  Up close, she was still having trouble noting signs of age. If she hadn't known the woman had adult sons, she would have guessed Aurora was in her early thirties.

  Aurora smoothed a hand over the bandage on Samara's arm. A long spate of Spanish followed.

  Jason sighed. "Samara will be fine, Mother. Every day, the wound gets better. The doctors say it will only be another day or two of wrapping. No, she doesn't need to see our family doctors, and yes, we are watching closely. Please, for the love of the Night Mother, speak English for Samara."

  Deep points of color rose in Aurora's cheeks. "My apologies, Alpha Samara. I was not aware you did not speak my language."

  "I'm working on it," Samara admitted. "I have required language lessons, and I'm taking Spanish right now. I'm afraid I took French in high school, and I never cared for it much."

  Aurora and her mate shot each other the sort of questioning look Samara was starting to loathe.

  I said the wrong thing again.

  Jacob broached the subject first. "You weren't required to learn multiple languages in your youth? You didn't travel extensively to learn them as you did?"

  "No. I lived in the same city my whole life." The same house, until I was seventeen. Thus starts the inquisition.

  "Who are your parents?" Aurora asked, seemingly confused by the conversation.

  James leaned forward to faux whisper to her. "Time to name drop."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Certain." Jason nodded emphatically.

  Samara prepared for whatever fallout there might be. "My father is Sebastian Travalian."

  They stared at her, unmoving.

  Not reacting. This is bad. "My mother is…was supposed to be his mate, but she—"

  Aurora enveloped her in a hug. "No wonder you were strong enough to survive the Hunter's Fang! Oh, my poor dear."

  "That was because of James and Jason." Didn't they know their sons had saved her life?

  Jacob placed a hand on the side of her head. "You will never be endangered with us, Samara. Never again. You have my vow. I will step up your security immediately."

  "I don't understand," she admitted.

  James groaned. "I knew there was something missing in Sebastian's meeting."

  Aurora released her.

  "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

  Jason guided Samara to the couch. "Sit down. This may be a bit of a shock to you."

  She sank to the cushioned surface, ill at ease. What hadn't she been told? What other secrets were there?

  James squatted to one side of her and Jason to the other. The elder twin seemed to struggle with where to start.

  "I'll explain." Jason took the lead in an atypical move.

  "Thank you." James sounded relieved, which intensified her unease.

  Jason looked up at his parents. "Samara was raised by her mother all these years. She only met Sebastian today."

  Aurora went a vivid shade of burgundy, and Jacob put his hand on her shoulder, probably in soothing.

  "You've seen how wolves call you Alpha."

  Samara nodded. "Of course. We're all alpha level."

  "No, Samara. You aren't an alpha. You are the Alpha, the only child of the current reigning Alpha."

  Her head spun at the truth of it, and Eva's lessons on line of succession raced through her memories. That meant she—along with James and Jason—would rule after Sebastian. The Trudale family had just become royalty.

  James cleared his throat. "For all intents and purposes, you are a princess, the heiress apparent to the throne of our people."

  A wild laugh bubbled up, and Samara swallowed it with no small amount of effort. "Heiress a
pparent and I don't even speak Spanish." Or Greek. Or Italian. "How many languages do our people speak?"

  Aurora straightened. "Never fear. We will teach you all you need to know. If you wish it." There was a hopeful note in that.

  "I do."

  Chapter Ten

  Three months later

  "The car is coming in, Samara," Marietta reported.

  She smiled, then started pacing. At the far turn, she collided with James's chest. Jason stepped in behind her and rubbed her lower back, easing muscles under far too much stress. She moaned in response.

  "Have you decided how to tell him yet?" James teased.

  "Oh, stop," she pleaded.

  Jason laughed long and hard. "You really are more afraid to tell your human father you're a wolf than you are to tell him you're married to two men or that you're pregnant, aren't you?"

  "He grew up in a commune with his mother, for pity's sake! He's one-quarter Cree, and the Nations tend to be progressive about alternative lifestyles. Pregnancy and sexual…tastes aren't likely to throw him."

  "This way, Mr. Tyler," Marietta intoned.

  Samara sighed and turned toward the door, just in time for her father to turn the corner. His smile went brittle and he stared at her well-rounded midsection.

  "Dad?" She prompted him, hoping for a positive response.

  "Was this why you said you couldn't come home this year?" His voice held a note of awe.

  "My doctors aren't happy with the idea of me traveling by air, and I'm not sure a ship would be much better. If we ran into rough seas…" She shrugged, though the thought of sea sickness made her more than a little queasy.

  He walked across the room to her, then reached out to touch her distended abdomen. He hesitated and met her gaze, probably seeking permission.

  "Go ahead."

  He stroked from side to side. "After all those doctors saying you couldn't… I'm so happy for you. But, you're so big."

  "Twins will do that." James offered his hand. "James Trudale."

  Liam shook it.

  Jason extended his as well. "Jason Trudale."

  He was slower about shaking that time. Liam looked from the rings on Samara's hand to the matching rings on both of her mates'. "Would it be rude to ask what the situation is?"