The unmated women had their sights on Lorenzo. A position at his side would mean power, wealth, and security. But he didn’t trust a woman not to bed another man. It had taken him years to amass this fortune and empire, and he’d witnessed firsthand how a man’s love for a woman could destroy everything he’d built. Only a foolish man believed there could be one woman deserving of all his devotion. As far as Lorenzo was concerned, love was inconsequential.
His vision blurred as his mind drifted back to a night like this, one year ago. Austin Cole, a neighboring Packmaster, had held a peace party at his house that went awry when one of his brothers drugged the snacks as a joke. That’s when Lorenzo had first laid eyes on a beautiful woman standing on a tree swing and speaking lyrically. She carried herself like an enchanted being from a distant time. Twinkle lights and ivy encircled the rope, and her long, mahogany braid loosened in the wind.
She had bewitched him.
Lorenzo had everything a Packmaster could desire: power, land, wealth, and a respected pack. Nothing was unattainable, and he acquired anything that intrigued him. Had Alexia not already been seduced by another alpha, Lorenzo would have brought her into his bed, but no woman was worth all that trouble. He hadn’t coveted her for long; envy was not a palatable trait and left a bitter taste in his mouth. The young beauty on the swing was one of Austin’s packmates; therefore, he tried to put her out of his mind.
So why did seeing an acorn remind him of this woman? Or the harvest moon on an autumn’s night? Or a child’s swing? Earlier that year, he had run into her again at an outdoor festival. When a drunk had put his brute hands on her, it incited a riotous anger within Lorenzo. It should have irritated him that the woman had fought back with her words and not her fists. What good were words against a sharp arrow or a cutting blade? And yet this demure woman from his memories enchanted him.
Perhaps the only fascination was her purity. Shifter women often protected their virginity until they began entering relationships in their early twenties. But once a flower is plucked from the garden, it withers.
Lorenzo turned away from the window and headed toward the shower. The last thing he needed to set his mind on was a woman.
Chapter 1
Another pale leaf floated to the ground and landed on my foot. I lifted it to my nose and drew in a deep breath. “It’s going to be cold this winter.”
“How do you know, Miss Ivy?” Maizy asked. Lexi’s human sister was one of the most inquisitive seven-year-olds I’d ever met.
“Because every living thing has a voice,” I said, pinching the stem between my fingers and twirling it. “Sometimes they whisper, so you need to pay close attention.”
“Like that leaf?”
I smiled warmly, handing it to her. “Shifters are more attuned to changes in the wild, and I’ve learned to trust my wolf’s instincts. But you don’t need to be a Shifter to learn such things. My mother taught me how to listen to the world. She said if you make too much noise, you’ll never hear it.”
“Where’s your mom?”
We held hands and walked up the grassy stretch of land in front of the Weston house. I often took little Maizy for walks so she could gather up magical rocks, which were sometimes nothing more than pebbles from the driveway. I enjoyed telling her stories passed down in my family—ancient fables that taught lessons to the young children and featured wolves.
“She died, honey.”
Worry filled her blue eyes and she rooted her feet in place. “Will my mommy die?”
I smiled and knelt down, looking up at her. “Someday we all will end this life and begin a new one. It’s nothing to be afraid of, and nothing you need to worry about, little one. Your mommy will be here for a long time. She’s healthy and happy.” I touched the ends of her blond hair and smoothed them out.
“But… wasn’t yours a Shifter? Why couldn’t she heal herself?”
A knot formed in my stomach. How could I explain death to a child in a way that wouldn’t frighten her? I certainly couldn’t tell her the truth about what had happened to my mother—that she committed suicide.
“We can’t heal forever. It was her time, and I miss her so much. But I can still hear her singing in the wind,” I said, rising to my feet. “Sometimes when the sun warms my skin, I feel her love. She’s a part of everything now, so she’s always with me.”
“I like that,” Maizy said decidedly. “When I die, I want to be a cloud. That way I can see everything going on, and if someone’s bad, I’ll rain on their head.”
I burst out laughing and she giggled, pleased with my reaction. “I think we better get you inside. It’s a little chilly today. Let’s see if Austin will build a fire.”