Mated By Fate by Christa Wick

Chapter Nineteen

Already a full monthinto her pregnancy, Lana Howard rubbed at her expanding belly as she sat in Esme's living room a few days after the trial.

"You weren't kidding about 'other factors' when you mentioned the difference between carrying a human child and a shifter." Pausing, she pointed at the visible baby bump. "I don't have to be a she-wolf to know this is one of those differences."

Esme nodded, her frown barely concealed. "I felt it was too…well, alien from a human perspective to tell you at the time. You might not have come with us, and it wasn't safe for you to remain off clan lands."

Lana leaned over and patted Esme's arm. "No blame. And, hey, three months instead of nine saves me six months of being bloated and cranky by my math."

Esme laughed. Truth was, it was saving Lana from being bloated and cranky at all. Her body was behaving exactly as a she-wolf's would: calm, strong, already carving out a den in Seth's former bachelor's pad, and fiercely protective of those she cared about.

"Coop wanted me to spy on you," Lana continued. "I might have told him to shove the idea up his overly tight ass."

Starting to swallow a sip of hot tea, Esme choked on it. Coughing and laughing at the same time, she sloshed some of the liquid onto her blouse.

"I haven't told anyone—not even Seth—about the artifact, either," Lana added as Esme moved into the kitchen to grab a towel. "Or the transcription you let me read before everything got crazy."

"Crazier," Esme corrected with a smile. "And thank you for keeping their existence quiet."

Twisting the towel in her hands, she stared into Lana's gaze as if searching for something.

"That's like the fifth time you've looked at me weird since I pulled into your drive," the young woman said. "Anything you need to say or do, you can trust me."

Trust me.

Everyone who had ever lied to Esme had used those words. Still, she couldn't keep the news locked up and Lana was the only one she trusted to help her who might actually be able to help her.

"Something happened with the artifact after the attack. Layers I could feel were there but had always remained locked suddenly opened up. It temporarily exhausts my magic to extract and read the new material, but that's the main reason I've been holed up."

"And why you haven't finished healing?"

Esme nodded. "I've learned more about spells and charms in the last two weeks than the first fifteen years of my life. I don't know if it's because of what happened to me or some side effect of all the crystals we brought back from Quentin's lair."

"The artifact contains spells?" Lana asked, her gaze pushing wide as she sat a little straighter. "Like an instruction manual?"

Another quick nod from Esme as she dabbed at her wet shirt, her thoughts distracted with the question of whether she should change into another blouse. Before she could decide, the charmed dance of silver bells on her porch plucked at the witch's spine.

"Coop agreed to start sending latents to you instead of Camille?" Lana asked at the sound.

"He mentioned he might," Esme answered. "The latents she onboarded couldn't decide whether my mother has lemon wedges stuffed in her mouth…or up her…"

She trailed off, letting Lana decide which orifice the newcomers had mentioned.

"Still, he basically wants me focused on new charms twenty-four seven, to include teaching you and my mother what I've figured out since the abduction. And casting for latents. I'm not sure when I'm actually allowed to sleep. I messaged Seth with a location earlier."

"He mentioned that. Do you think that's why the bells rang?" Lana asked, moving toward the window. "Someone's found a latent?"

The little hitch in her voice caught Esme's attention.

"Who's on the search roster today?" Esme asked, then frowned as Lana's mouth twisted like she needed to make room for her foot in it.

"Don't tell me it's Denver."

Lana nodded.

Fuck,Esme thought, her chest tightening. She had somehow managed to avoid him since Coop's sham trial—in part by not removing the protective bubble of magic around him until she was in her car and a good half a mile from the meeting house. When he didn't immediately show up at her house after, she figured he was pissed off enough from her actions to stay away.

Denver "Pain in My Ass" Gladwin…

No matter how she spun his name, it invoked the same image of the shifter. Her memory reluctantly caressed his lean, powerful physique with its supple, tanned skin, reddish-blond hair and honey-colored gaze. He smelled like honey, too, his body's scent playing off his features so that he laid across Esme's tongue in a sweet bee's nectar cut sharp by the hint of ginger whenever she thought of him.

"See anyone?” Esme asked as Lana pulled aside the curtains.

Lana shook her head, her shoulders growing tenser with each shake. “I know your new masking charms are keeping everyone protected when they're off clan lands, but not being able to sense anyone wearing them makes it so...”

Floundering, Lana looked at Esme and shrugged. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Hugging herself, Esme squeezed at the chaos running through her body. Using materials harvested from the crystal structure Quentin had tried to drain her with, the new charms worked so damn well on anyone wearing them that it had become impossible to sense for certain who the hell was coming up her drive. She no longer recognized her own magic.

That wasn't the only drawback to her increased knowledge. The Witches' Council was demanding Esme journey to the New York clan to train them on the breakthroughs and explain how it all had happened.

Other than a shrug and sarcasm, she had no idea what to tell them. The truth that she had kept The Nakari's artifact secret for a decade would not go over well with the witches or wolves. It wasn't enough to say that the All-Mother had imposed the long silence.

Pushing aside that looming stress for the more immediate one, Esme offered Lana a reassuring smile.

"No need to stress, little mama. It'll be that damn ginger pain in my ass is all. Any other shifter would have the courtesy of removing their charms as soon as they hit clan lands. And the Hunters couldn't really hide themselves even when they had all those crystals. I don't imagine they've made any big jumps in abilities now that we've got them on the run."

"You're probably right," Lana said, a tinge of worry still lurking within her tone.

"I'll settle the issue later," Esme said, forcing a smile as she looked at Lana. "In the meantime, if Denver found a latent, we owe the woman a calm, caring exterior—especially after she's had to put up with him for more than a few minutes."

Lana flashed a grin in return. "Is this your first one since...well, you know."

Esme nodded. "And I haven't even thought about how I'm going to debrief anyone. Coop stressed the need for a level of consistency."

"We'll do it together," Lana offered. "And be like…I dunno, twenty times better than your mom at it."

Chuckling, Esme opened the door and stepped onto the porch. Blinking against the sun, she shielded her eyes as the vehicle pulled into view and she recognized the driver.

"Yep," she sighed, stepping inside without glancing at the passenger side of the truck. "It's that damn ginger."

Catching Lana's gaze, Esme bobbed her head at the door, then retreated to the kitchen to start the kettle. She could usually sense the instant visitors entered the house what tea and blend of herbs would soothe them. Opening the cupboard, she rotated the jars and pulled the more calming, flavorful ones to the front.

Lana's voice cut through Esme’s inventory. "It's a boy, not a woman."

"Clan?" Esme crossed quickly to the door, her gaze landing on the child before Lana could answer. He was no older than six, with pitch-black hair. The coloring gave nothing away, but Tala, the youngest cub on Coop's lands, was eleven. A sweet, blonde-haired girl, she was the youngest among all the clans, the fertility of the female wolves dormant since The Nakari's death.

"Are there male latents?" Lana asked, her hand instinctively searching for Esme's.

"No, he's pure wolf," Esme answered. Even with the charm around his neck, she could tell the boy was a shifter. The signs were all there in the way his body moved and the unnatural muscular definition for his age despite his small size. When he grew up, he would be like the man helping him from the vehicle, tall, lean and at least three times stronger than the most powerful human male.

Denver shut the truck door. His gaze drifted toward the house to land directly on Esme. With an exaggerated slowness, he lifted the charm from around his neck.

She could tell by the soft smirk on his face that he had kept his charm in place until his arrival to keep her from sensing him. Now he wanted her fully aware that her natural mate was near.

Knees going weak, Esme staggered back toward the familiar comfort of her kitchen. From the front porch came the heavy slap of Denver's boots and the delighted squeal of the boy, followed by the soft thud of a child's feet.

"Do it again!" the cub pleaded.

Esme looked over her shoulder in time to see Lana open the door, the boy zooming into view. Denver's big hands gently secured the child's waist and lower ribcage as he swept the boy up in the air and back down for another soft landing.

Seeing both women staring at him and the surprise evident in their eyes, the child buried his face against Denver's hip.

"It's okay, Oscar." Denver brushed a thick black curl behind the boy's ear. "These ladies are friends. You want to tell them hello?"

The boy uncovered one eye, peeking first at Lana then at Esme with a vivacious but shy gaze. He looked up at Denver for reassurance. Denver smiled, his hand moving over the boy's head in a reassuring caress that visibly melted Oscar's fear.

Seeing the boy's reaction, Esme knew she wouldn't need any herbs for him. Denver's dominance as a male wolf was all the child needed to steady his nerves and make him feel safe. She only wished she could say the same. Her nerves were officially shot, and not solely from Denver's appearance.

Finding a cub was a big deal, especially one so young. The effect of the boy's appearance would ripple throughout all of the wolf clans, not just Jack Cooper's.

She pulled out her favorite tea and a packet of chocolate powder. Holding the packet up, she smiled at Oscar. "Would you like some cocoa, Oscar?"

The other half of the boy's head appeared, a smile breaking broadly across his face as he answered with a vigorous nod. With a hand against Oscar's back, Denver propelled him toward the kitchen table.

"Let's get you settled then." Denver pointed at Lana. "I bet if you smile at that pretty lady, she'll get you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to go with the cocoa."

Oscar nodded again, his head bobbing faster.

Lana laughed and closed the front door. "One PB&J coming up!"

She joined Esme in the kitchen. In the presence of the cub, Lana's hand dropped absently to her stomach, her smile widening at the idea of Seth's child growing inside her.

That particular development had also sent thick ripples through the clans, sparking the demand to find more latents. Still, despite male shifters far outnumbering females, not every wolf welcomed the newcomers. More than one she-wolf had been downright hostile to Lana for securing Seth, a pack leader, as mate and her stomach already ripening with his child.

"You'll make a great mom," Esme whispered, her gaze alight with approval before she turned it on Oscar.

Examining the sorry state of the cub's clothes, she already sensed the answer to the question running through her mind. Her lips parted before hesitation closed them a second later. She did not want to upset the little boy with the wrong choice of words. Shifters were fierce parents. Oscar’s were most likely dead.

Catching Denver's attention on her, she tilted her chin at Oscar.

"No caretakers?"

A faint shake of his head confirmed her suspicion.

"Any idea?" she asked.

Another headshake from Denver, briefer than the first, and Esme retreated to the stove. She stayed safely behind her kitchen island, letting Lana take the sandwich and cocoa over to Oscar. From the corner of her eye, she watched Denver interact with him.

Denver had grabbed one of the bundles of witch's grass stacked at the table's far end, his fingers busy braiding as he casually interrogated the boy.

Esme's nose twitched at the waste of grass. The fresh green blades and tufts were meant to be used in medicine. They had to be carefully picked before the sun came up and babied all through the process of extracting their active ingredients.

When shifters managed to actually get sick or injured beyond their natural restorative powers, she couldn't just pop down to the local pharmacy for something. For the most part, human drugs were either made inert by a shifter's metabolism or were downright deadly.

Esme sighed at the loss of the witch grass, not realizing she had done so until Denver's head swiveled in her direction, his gaze slicing through any façade of indifference she might throw up.

"Will the two of you be visiting Coop?" Esme picked up an already clean glass from the strainer and distracted herself with washing it all over again. Otherwise, she would upset the boy with the tears she could feel building.

Denver grunted and she had the sense he wasn't happy with the thought of handing the little boy over to anyone—especially the clan alpha. Coop would undoubtedly place the boy with a pair of mated shifters.

Esme's chest tightened. The last cub orphaned had created a thick chord of tension that still vibrated through the childless wolves, each couple more than eager to raise the orphan. And Lana's pregnancy was infecting every female shifter in the clan with a hard case of baby fever. The appearance of Oscar, so young and undeniably adorable, could start an all-out war.

A peal of laughter from the little boy spun Esme around. Her mouth involuntarily curled in a smile at his joy until she saw the crown of witch grass on his head. She forced the smile back in place before Lana looked up.

Lana clapped her hands then embraced the child. "Isn't he a little prince?"

Esme nodded, trying to look at Oscar's face and not the crown that would cause too many painful memories to resurface.

She gripped the granite countertop of her kitchen island in search of an anchor as light bounced off the boy's hair and green crown, his laughter turning into a gurgling giggle of pure joy carried across the years to green fields beneath a warm summer sky…