“All of which sounds very convincing,” Riley commented, “but it doesn’t alter the fact—”
“Riley,” I said softly. “You know how much I love you, so please don’t take this the wrong way—”
She raised her eyebrows, a faint smile touching her lips despite the seriousness in both her expression and her eyes. “But I’m not your mother, so kindly butt out. Or words to that effect, right? You do know how impossible that is for me, don’t you?”
“Yes, and yes,” I said. “The thing is, you have a family now—a family you’ve fought long and hard to have—”
“Which is why I won’t—”
“But I’m not one of them,” I continued over her voice. “And if it comes to a battle with Hunter, then the task is mine and Azriel’s. Not yours. Not Quinn’s. Not Rhoan’s. You all have too much to lose if you go up against her.”
“And you haven’t?” She snorted. “You’re pregnant, are you not?”
I blinked, but I guess it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she knew, given that she’d spent so much time by my bedside after Azriel had pulled me back from death. She might not be able to hear the deeper lines of communication between Azriel and me, but if Quinn could read my surface thoughts, then she undoubtedly could. Azriel—and the child we’d created—would have been uppermost on my mind even when I’d been unconscious.
“Yes, I am,” I said. “And that is why I cannot understand your willingness to risk the lives of your own children for someone who is not, in the end, of your bloodline.”
Silence filled the room. A silence heavy with emotion—surprise and anger being the strongest, but there was a torrent of other emotions swirling underneath, each one moving too quickly to define.
Eventually, she said, “Hunter would not—”
“Hunter would, and will.” My gaze flicked to Quinn. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But, as I’ve already said, she would not do so until she was
completely sure of her position and her ability to beat me. She is neither of those things right now.”
“And hopefully, never will be.” I felt like crossing my fingers and praying to the fates even as I said it—except that the fates were just as likely to do the opposite of what I wanted. They were contrary like that—at least when it came to my desires. “But the fact remains, Hunter is using the Jenson pack to control my actions. I need you out of the equation, not stepping further into it.”
“You want me to run?” Disbelief edged Riley’s tone. “I have never—”
“And Hunter is as aware of that as I am. And as long as she has the threat of your deaths, she has me on a leash.” I hesitated, then added softly, “If you do not go willingly, then you will do so unwillingly.”
She stared at me for several seconds, then leaned back in her chair. “And that is a threat you would not make if you could not back it up.” She sighed in frustration and thrust a hand through her red hair. “Damn it, Ris, I’m not happy about this—”
“And you think I am?” I cut in. “Trust me, I’d like nothing better than to have you and Rhoan and Quinn back us up if we’re forced to confront Hunter. But it’s better this way—if Hunter can’t find you, then she can’t use you against me.”
“And how long are we expected to disappear? We all have lives; we can’t put everything on hold indefinitely.”
“It would be no longer than a week,” Azriel said.
I glanced at him sharply. “What?”
He shrugged. “So the fates said.”
I wondered what else the fates had said that he wasn’t telling me. Heaps, I suspected. It seemed the more some things changed, the more some stayed the same.
Riley studied the two of us for what seemed like an eternity—though I very much suspected she was conversing with Quinn. Finally, she grunted. “A week we could do.”
It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Against all the odds—against pack instinct and her natural desire to fight and protect—she was going to leave.
But then, she was a mom, and as I’d already said, I wasn’t blood related. As much as she might want to protect me, her own family had to come first.
“Thank you—”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted. “Not until you’ve heard my conditions.”
My heart sank again. “And what might they be?”