Wild Instinct by Sarah McCarty Page A

late. Though werewolves had hurt her aunt and killed her dad, and Daire must look, to the little girl, like the worst of them all, Meg reached out and placed her tiny hand against his cheek. The ancient didn’t move as her fingers explored every inch of scar tissue. Neither did the child. For a heartbeat they stood face-to-face. Then Meg gave his cheek a pat.
    “I’m sorry.”
    Daire didn’t say a word, just watched her as she went back to her mother. And sticking her thumb in her mouth, she leaned against her mother’s chest when Sarah Anne pulled her close.
    “Damn,” Cur murmured. “Things are getting interesting.”

Seven
    SARAH Anne took a breath and held it. She didn’t like the way Daire was still watching Meg, as if he could see beneath her skin. “I’m sorry; she’s always doing things like that.”
    His lips didn’t move but there was the slightest crinkle around his eyes. Daire just shook his head and held up his hand. It annoyed her that he didn’t even deign to speak until she realized he was still concentrating on Teri, doing something—she didn’t know what, but something—to her. A smooth stroke of his thumb across her lips and Teri’s frown melted away.
    “What are you doing to her?”
    He didn’t look up, just said in that gravelly voice of his, “She’s dreaming.”
    Could he read minds?
    He looked at her. “Would it bother you if I did?”
    “Of course.”
    “Your daughter is talented.”
    It sounded like a reprimand, but she couldn’t be sure, since he didn’t take his eyes off Teri’s face. Garrett’s arm tightened around her waist. “She’s not wolf.”
    “Didn’t say she was. Doesn’t change the fact that she is talented.”
    She did not want any of the Protectors’ attention on her daughter’s odd ways. “Is Teri going to live?”
    “I don’t know yet.”
    God, she needed good news. The brush of Garrett’s lips over her head should have been an irritation, but instead, it was a comfort. “When will you know?”
    Daire looked up. It was funny—when she could really see his face, she didn’t see the scars. Instead she saw those black-as-night eyes and the endless depth of energy behind them. She grabbed Garrett’s arm against the black-magic lure. It wasn’t a sexual pull, though there was a sexual component to it. The sensation was more like the type of vertigo she got when looking over the edge of a high cliff. She had the unsafe urge to lean farther, get closer.
    “Your daughter doesn’t fear me.”
    “No.” And that was a mystery unto itself.
    “How long have you been living with humans?”
    “Eight years.”
    “You didn’t teach her wolf protocol.”
    “There wasn’t a need.” She’d never intended her daughter to grow up among wolves.
    “She shows no respect.”
    “If you touch her—”
    This time his lip did twitch. “I know. You’ll kill me.”
    Garrett pulled her back against the hardness of his thighs and chest. “Stop threatening the pack members, Sarah Anne. They’ll get to thinking you don’t like them.”
    “Maybe I don’t.” The retort was weak because she couldn’t get past the fact that Daire was right. Meg didn’t show the proper respect and as such could find herself quickly ostracized. Her bright, shining little girl snubbed. It broke her heart.
    “She’ll be fine, Sarah.”
    What did Garrett know about little girls and how they needed to fit in? In her peripheral vision, she could see a pair of scuffed black leather boots. She couldn’t remember which Protector wore those. Kelon or Donovan. She didn’t care. She wanted her son. She wanted her daughter. She wanted her life back. She wanted this all to end.
    “Actually,” Kelon said, “Daire hasn’t declared allegiance to anyone yet. We’re trying to win him away.”
    “From whom?” She wished the question back the second she said it.
    Donovan walked up. “If you believe the rumors . . . from the devil?”
    She could believe that.
    Donovan’s gaze raked