The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

I frowned and climbed into the vehicle, but Jonas stopped and kissed her. It was a cheek kiss, nothing more, and yet there was tenderness there.

“Thanks for the loan of the vehicle, Franki,” he said. “I’ll try and return this one in one piece.”

“If you don’t,” she said, her voice holding a teasing note, “I’ll expect a replacement or payment in kind.”

He laughed, an oddly tender sound that agitated that odd feeling within. “Or both, if I know you.”

“Indeed.” She lightly slapped his arm. “Go, before I’m tempted to do something a woman my age should not.”

He grinned, jumped inside the vehicle, and then claimed the driver seat. She slammed the door shut and then stepped back as he started up the ATV. As the vehicle rolled toward the crater’s exit, I said, “Old lover?”

Thankfully, there was nothing but simple curiosity in my tone.

His smile flashed. “Some fifty-odd years ago now. We parted when she decided to have children.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why would that end your relationship? It’s not like shifters are monogamous, is it?”

“Well no, but it was hardly fair for the other suitors to have to contend with someone who is a far superior offering.”

I laughed. “And modest beside.”

“Indeed.” His smile faded slightly and he half shrugged. “In all honesty, our affair had run its course by then, and I was ready to move on.”

Was that a subtle warning not to expect too much from him, or was I simply reading too much into his statement? I had no real idea—it wasn't as if I'd ever had to contend with these types of thoughts or emotions before. “How long were you together?”

“Ten years.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

He glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “You have to remember that while I might only look thirty or so thanks to the rift stopping the aging process, I was in fact over seventy at the time. Even the wildest of us are slowing down by then.”

“So how many children do you actually have?”

“Five daughters, four sons, sixteen grandchildren and, I believe—as of this year—nine great-grandchildren.”

I blinked again and did the math. “You must have started very young.”

“Most shifters are sexually active by the age of sixteen—”

“Yes, but we were at war for five of those years, and yet you still had nine children by the time you hit thirty. Presuming you were too busy during the war to chase tail, that’s one kid a year.”

“I did say it was a very rare for me to lose a battle for a suitor's favor.”

“I know, but—” I stopped and shook my head. “Wow.”

He laughed. “Given shifters are fertile well into their seventies and eighties, imagine how many little Jonases there would now be in the world if the rift hadn't made me infertile. It's was probably a good thing, in retrospect.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You can't mean that—”

“And that is where you are wrong.” There was a sudden seriousness in his eyes that had my pulse doing that weird little skip again. “If not for that rift, I would not be here with you. I may regret many things that happened both during the war and after it, but I will never regret that.”

“Thank you,” I said, simply because I needed to say something and it was the only thing that came to mind.

“For what? Admitting a simple truth, even if it is one that was a long time coming?”

“No,” I said softly. “For being willing to see not the monster but rather the person. For treating me with respect even when the very sight of me instinctively repulsed you.”

“I was never repulsed by the sight of you, Tiger. Quite the opposite.” Amusement twisted his lips. “It was a conundrum that caused a lot of sleepless nights, let me tell you.”