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LUCAS WAS IN HIS HOUSE, unable to sleep. In a last ditch effort to quiet his errant thoughts, he drank from a bottle of whiskey. And drank some more. And more. When he was more than halfway through, he started pacing in his living room.
Movement outside drew his eye, and he stood, heading to the backyard. “What the...” For an instant, he thought it was a hallucination.
The woman on his land had long, wavy brown hair with eyes the color of the sun. A robe of roses, lilies and dandelions wrapped her body. When she turned to him, her beautiful smile and lilting voice struck him silent.
“Ah, the alpha.” A faint accent lined her words, not unlike Dominic’s.
Recalling what Finn told him about his beta's godmother took a moment, but it still did not help clear his head. “Are you...?”
“I am Ileana Cosânzeana, fair wolf.”
“And what the fuck are you doing on my property?”
She laughed. “I was sent on the wind, by the wind...” Her voice trailed off, and she stepped closer. “You have suffered, all of you. Your wolves are proud, but they should not be lonely. I have decided to help you.”
Something akin to a growl escaped Lucas’ lips. “We do not need help.”
“A woman’s touch, her presence in a man’s life, is like the sun. You, of all people, should know that.”
“Get out of my head, witch!” He tried to grasp her, but only touched air instead.
Ileana danced around, circling him. “Too late. Love is coming, for all of you!”
She drew away, still laughing, and disappeared past his gated fence.
Lucas stared at the whiskey bottle in his hand, then hurled it against the wall of the house. Its shatter disturbed the peace of the night, causing a dog to bark in the distance.
Yet as he stood there, panting over the shards of glass, nostrils flaring and fists clenched, a single phrase escaped past his gritted teeth. “Non ci credo, Ileana. Not unless it’s over my dead body.”