Zander glared at the empty waves, at the pole, at Rae, and then at Eoin, who’d come up behind her.
“Tell her . . .” Zander trailed off. He pointed at Rae, then at Eoin, then Rae again, words failing him. “Just—”
He made an exasperated noise, waved his hands, then spun and strode from them down the deck, his duster swirling.
“Seriously, Dad,” Rae said. “You want him to train me? He’s an idiot.”
“Rae, sweetie.” Eoin was in front of her, all his focus now on her. His large body blocked out the sea and sky as he cupped his hands around her face.
“There’s no choice, honey,” Eoin said sadly. “If you won’t do it for me or yourself, do it for Daragh.”
Oh, so unfair. Rae’s thoughts flashed to the first time she’d seen Daragh, their Guardian, who was now dead and dust. Rae had been a tiny cub, newly orphaned, lost and howling, horribly alone.
She’d been terrified when two Shifters had crashed through the brush to find her, both of them Feline—Eoin, with tawny hair, hard face, and dark eyes, and Daragh, with his intense green gaze, sword drawn. Rae remembered being surrounded by booted feet and stained denim, and then Daragh had crouched down to look at her. “It’s all right, sweetie,” he’d said. “We’ll take care of you now.”
Daragh had picked up Rae and tucked her inside his coat, carrying her all the way home. Eoin, leader of his clan, had adopted Rae and taken her into his house, already populated by two Feline cubs who were fascinated by the wolf who’d be their little sister.
Daragh, no relation to Eoin, had stopped by often. He’d looked out for Rae as she’d grown up as Eoin’s foster daughter, and Daragh was often her champion against her rough and tumble brothers. He’d been especially protective of Rae when the humans came to round them up into Shiftertowns, interfering when humans wanted to break Rae from her family because she was Lupine. Daragh had helped make sure that Rae, whose parentage was still undetermined, was able to stay with the only true family she’d ever known.
Now Daragh was gone, murdered, and Rae was expected to take his place.
Grief bit her but she stuffed it down and gave her father a shaky smile. “You fight dirty, Dad.”
Eoin’s hands moved to her shoulders. “We will always honor him. He was brave even in death.”
Daragh had sacrificed himself to save others, typical of him. The sword that weighed heavily on Rae’s back had been carried by Daragh most of his life.
“Daragh would be proud you were chosen to succeed him,” Eoin said. “I will do absolutely everything in my power to make sure you can carry out the Goddess’s choice. If it means leaving you with the eccentric Zander Moncrieff, then so be it. He can keep you safe, Rae, better than I can. Better than anyone.”
Rae doubted that. Her dad, she was sure, could never be defeated.
She knew though that Shifters in her town were giving him hell about the Choosing. They were calling to have him investigated, and Shifters in other towns were backing that investigation. Even Shifter leaders who believed and supported Eoin had expressed great surprise that the Goddess had chosen Rae.In the thirteen hundred years since the swords had been forged, a Guardian had never been female.
Rae drew a breath, the cold Alaska air filling her lungs. The abandoned cub inside her cried out—No, don’t leave me. Have another Choosing, don’t make me do this!
The adult Shifter she’d become knew that all Shifters’ lives were sacrifices. They battled for territory and protected cubs, fought and died to keep their families, clans, and communities of Shifters safe. The Choosing had changed Rae in one instant from protected to protector.
“For Daragh,” she said, letting out a sigh. “I’ll stay for a while.”
The relief in Eoin’s eyes was so obvious it cut at Rae’s heart. She hadn’t realized he’d been so worried about what to do with her. She’d always thought Eoin fearless.
Down the deck, Zander was fighting the tangle of line, letting out a string of colorful curses.
“I’ll even try not to kill him,” Rae promised, keeping her expression neutral.
Eoin’s answering smile crinkled his warm eyes and squeezed pain through Rae’s chest. Never, in the years she’d lived with this man had she been apart from him or his two sons, not for any length of time. The orphaned cub had been surrounded by love. Now she faced being alone again and she had to be strong about it. Rae had to man up.
No, she had to woman up. Why were all the idioms about being strong male-related?
Eoin’s smile deserted him. He caught up Rae in a hard embrace that lifted her from her feet.
“Goddess go with you, little one,” Eoin whispered into her ear.
Rae choked back a sob. “Goddess go with you too, Dad.”
Eoin set Rae on her feet. He smoothed back a lock of her hair, unashamed tears wetting his face.
Then he squared his shoulders as though convincing himself this must be done. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, touched her hair one more time, and turned away. Nothing more to be said.
Eoin leapt to the other boat, again not allowing the uneven rock of the vessels to unbalance him. He landed gracefully and nodded at the pilot, who brought the motor to life.
Eoin stood in the stern of the small speedboat as it moved away, lifting his arm in a wave. Rae waved back. Eoin remained in the stern, watching Rae, his hand raised, as the speedboat grew smaller and smaller. Rae kept up her waving as well, until the boat finally became a pinpoint on the endless sea, then was swallowed by the horizon.
I won’t cry. Rae wiped her uncooperative eyes, digging her fingers in to stop the tears. I’m only feeling sorry for myself. I’ll get over it.
Right. Because saying good-bye to the only father she’d ever known and being stranded on a boat with a huge bear who didn’t want her there was the easiest thing in the world.
Another curse rang down the deck. Rae swiped hands across her face and made her way to the rear of the boat. A tall wave ran up one side, rocking them hard, and Rae stumbled into the cabin wall beside her.
The man in the stern didn’t notice. He sat cross-legged, his coat spread out behind him, the snarl of line in his lap.
Rae put one hand on the wall to steady herself and made her way toward him. The fishing boat was on the small side but it was by no means tiny. The cabin took up a chunk of it in the middle with wide areas of deck fore and aft for fishing and storing fish. The pilot house—Eoin had told her that’s what it was called—was small and dark. A door in the stern led under the pilot house, presumably down to sleeping quarters.