2 "I Hope for His Sake that She's not Really His Mate."

Chapter 2

He could understand Blake's discomfiture. Life had used this woman roughly, and a strong breeze may just knock her over.

Not what a werewolf would expect in a mate, especially someone as strong an alpha as Blake.

Ryan studied the woman as well, silently wondering if it was only the Alpha's protective instincts that drew him to the woman.

All Alphas were almost maniacal about protecting the weaker members of the pack, and Blake was no exception. If ever there was someone in need of protecting, it was this woman.

As Blake slowly walked over to the woman, his inner wolf let him know he was doing the right thing by settling down somewhat.

Tristan turned to Ryan, saying, "I hope for his sake that she's not really his mate. Maybe he's just feeling protective? She looks like somebody should be protecting her."

Although Tristan's words echoed Ryan's earlier thoughts, he looked sharply at the other werewolf. "Only a fool would say that sort of thing out loud."

Carly Whelehan was having the worst day yet, in a month that had been nothing but abject misery.

Almost exactly a month earlier, she had received a phone call that had created this whole mess.

It was the Seattle Police Department, letting her know that her sister and brother-in-law were in a terrible accident and asking how quickly she could get make it out? Both had died of injuries by the time she had reached Seattle, early the next morning.

The children had been in the car as well, and had survived the head on collision with only minor injuries.

In Jenny and Sam's will, Carly had been named guardian to the nephews. Suddenly she found herself drowning in the intricacies of the legal system.

After a month of lawyers, meetings, and horrors best forgotten, she found herself finally on the way back home... with her nephews in tow.

The month in Seattle had taken a toll on her, in all possible ways. She was devastated by her sister's death, the last remaining connection to family.

But for the children, she was alone in the world. Jenny was the outgoing one, and Carly had always been content to stay in her sister's shadow.

Even after Jenny had moved away, Carly never felt the need for other people in her life. She had her sister, and she was content.

Transitioning from doting auntie to parent, especially under the sudden circumstances, was harrowing.

She had to stay strong for the boys, especially Jason. Caleb was too young to understand what was going on.

Grief, worry, and loneliness were her constant companions, effectively killing her appetite.

Getting up, dressed, and making it through the day took tremendous effort, and she no longer cared what she looked like.

She probably looked frightful, but she just couldn't find it within her to care anymore. All she had now were the boys, and weren't they a handful?

Eight year old Jason sat next to her, head buried in a video game.

She knew she should limit his time on the device, and she would, eventually. But he had turned sullen and angry with the death of his parents, and she would much rather deal with the excessive gaming at another point in time.

Right now, it was how he was coping. He lost himself in his games. He refused to speak. Someone at the hospital had said it was "a manifestation of his anxiety" and said that he would begin speaking again when he felt comfortable doing so.

Therapy was clearly going to need to play a major role in their future. All that could wait until they reached home. Besides, she had her hands full with six-month-old Caleb.

"Please, baby," she begged softly. "I've fed you and changed you. You won't look at your toys or take your passie. What do you need? Just tell me what you need. Why can't you use your words?"

There was a snort, somewhere off to her left. "I don't think they understand logic at that age, but I'm fairly confident words will come in the next few months.

Although it may take years before the words make sense on their own," the man said softly, amusement tinging the words.

Carly was suddenly very aware of her surroundings. She looked up at the giant of a man looming over her.

For a moment, she could hardly breathe as she took him in. His dark hair was cut military short, and she had a sudden insane desire to run her fingers through the strands.

His wide lips were quirked in an almost smile, but his blue eyes looked almost angry. He had wide shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs.

She wanted to know how those hard planes would look out of his dress shirt and trousers. She blushed slightly, as she realized she was mentally undressing him.

She watched his hands. They looked strong and confident, with dozens of tiny scars that said he was used to hard work.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she also noticed they were devoid of a ring, but that hardly meant anything.

"All babies should be born able to speak," she finally responded wryly, looking back at his face. "It would make life so much easier."

"Easier, maybe. But then there's no joy in finally figuring out what they want," he said.

Holding out a hand, he introduced himself. As she shook the offered hand, she couldn't help but notice the strength and calluses... or the warm tingle spreading from that point of contact.

Her body was aware of the close proximity to the powerful man, as he sat next to her and turned his attention to the screaming baby in her lap.

"How old is he?" Blake asked.

"Just about six months. I have no idea what's wrong with him." Carly sounded resigned.

"Ah," he said, reaching over to grab the baby. Nervously, Carly stood and hovered over the seated man now holding her nephew.

"Um, Blake?" She started hesitantly. "I really would rather you give him back." She meant for it to come out forcefully, but it came out more breathless.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to make you nervous," he said, handing over the baby. "But I've been around a lot of babies in my time, more nieces and nephews and godchildren than I could possibly name, and it occurs to me that your child is probably teething. I was just going to check."

"I never would have thought of that," Carly said, gently holding the baby as Blake ran a finger over the child's gums.

"Yep, teeth. Didn't his pediatrician say anything about it?"

She shot him a look he couldn't quite interpret. Pain and frustration, with a hint of resignation and something else.

"Oh, Saints preserve me!" She exclaimed, pulling out her phone and hastily dialing a number. Standing up and turning her back, she began speaking quietly. Blake had no problem hearing what she said, and intently listened to her side of the conversation.

"Hi, Eve. Listen, someone just said something to me that made me realize I need the kids medical records. Do you know how I would even go about doing that?"

She paused, listening to the response.

"Hold on, let me ask." Turning to the older child, she spoke softly, "Jason, honey? Do you know your doctor's name?"