I awake to a world washed in the blue-gray light of pre-dawn. The swish and crash of quiet waves whispers in my ears, and a chill mist dampens my exposed skin and hair. I sit up, stretching the stiffness from my back, sore from sleeping in the hard-packed sand, and find the spot beside me abandoned.

Shaking out the mist-dampened towel that had served as my blanket, I rise and look up and down the small stretch of secluded beach, but there's no sign of Sky. In a smooth area, just beyond the reach of the waves, I spot a heart drawn in the sand and wander over for a closer look.

There are words written in it, drawn in a neat, curling script.

Gone to sea. Back by sunrise.

I press my fingers to my lips, hiding a smile (though there's no one to see it but a few stray gulls winging overhead) as memory makes me blush. Despite the cold that seems to have seeped through my skin all the way to my bones in the night, a warmth heats my blood and my heart thrums with a light, rapid beat.

I haven't felt like this in a very long time; so long, I hardly remember what it feels like. The last time this much unfiltered happiness lit my heart on fire, I was a naïve young man, barely more than a boy, and head over heels in love. It was the day I first held Flora and Miguel in my arms.

Elena hadn't let me keep that feeling for much longer after that, and made sure I never felt it again. Even when Nico and Rio were born, other feelings tempered my happiness; fear for their futures, despair for mine, and the knowledge that the perfect little angels bundled in my arms could vanish with a word. All Elena had to do was name their father; if he was a Wolf — as I'm sure he was — then by Wolf law, he could claim them as his own and take them away from me.

Which is what, at long last, it seems might happen now; unless, by some demented twist of fate, Sky was right and they'd been mine all along.

Wrapping a towel about my shoulders for warmth, I wander down to where the quiet morning waves lap the beach like tongues, sliding high up the smooth sand before slipping back into the mouth of the sea. I watch for a while, each wave leaving a rim of white foam to mark its farthest reach, by which it deposits little treasures on the land; small shells and shiny pebbles, smoothed by eons caught in the constant tumble of the surf.

Eventually, I shake myself from this natural hypnosis, and search the sea for signs of Sky. Between the black rocks and frothing waves, the wild green water and the white mist, my eyes can hardly find a place to rest.

At last, I spot him emerging from the rolling swells like a god of ancient myth. Strong and sure, he strides from the sea, water streaming from his golden hair and from his iridescent scales as they melt back to the smooth contours of his skin.

He sees me, and I wave to him, but he does not return the gesture. I don't hold it against him; when I shift from wolf to man, my physical body often adjusts more quickly than my mind. It takes a while to leave one world behind and join another.

Striding up the shore, naked and shedding water as he walks, he passes me as if he doesn't see me at all. Going straight to the blanket, he dries himself off with the other towel and dresses himself with quick efficiency.

I wait, giving him space as he shakes the sand from the blanket and folds it into a neat square.

Finally, he turns towards me, and I offer him a smile.

"You're magnificent," I say. "Well out of my league, honestly. But..." I look away shyly and sniff. "A promise is a promise. I think there's still time, if you'd like to see my Wolf. I'm not much to look at, really — you could pass me off as a long-haired German shepherd husky mutt, if you had to. But—"

"We should be getting back to the kids," he says, interrupting me. "They'll be waking up soon."

His even, disinterested tone cuts through the heat of my excitement like a blade of ice, and silences me as effectively. My smile fades, and as I stare up into the wild sea of his eyes, a shard of regret lances them.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Of course I want to see your Wolf. It's only that my business lasted longer than I thought it would, and dawn is upon us already."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" I ask. "Was your sister here?"

He seems to hesitate, then nods. "Yes. She was here."

"Was she happy to learn of her inheritance?"

A strange expression twists his face, then vanishes beneath a smile. "Not as much as I had hoped, but I'm working on it. Come now — you are cold. Let's get back to camp. I'm sure Flora and Miguel are well equipped to handle their siblings, only..."

He raises a questioning brow.

"You're right, of course," I say, submitting perhaps too easily. "We should be getting back."

〜〜〜

We return to camp to find the children sleeping peacefully, and I emit a soul-deep exhalation of relief. For once in my life, it seems I was able to enjoy something for myself and not pay for it in blood.

Still, I can't shake a feeling of unease that has come to roost in my heart like an unwelcome bird.

For me, what we shared was more than simple fun on the beach. It was something deeply intimate and meaningful; something significant; something I'd thought I would never share with anyone again.

I'm not sure it's the same for Sky. From the way he's acting, it might as well not have happened at all. My lack of experience with healthy relationships leaves me insecure and uncertain of what to expect, and with the kids ever present, I can't ask him outright.

I thought IKEA furniture was confusing; if only love came with a manual.

Later that afternoon, Sky takes Flora and Miguel into town, to a little shop that sells saltwater taffy and colorful kites. While I'm grateful to him for keeping them distracted and entertained, without his van, Nico, Rio and I have to walk the three miles for our appointment with Dr. Braden Howard, M.D.

Fortunately, the children are up for it and enjoy every second of our hike along the windswept coast.

Dr. Howard, I learn, works out of his house, which is a quaint little shanty made of large panes of glass, weathered shake-shingles, and sharp angles, perched on a high, blustery hill above the sea. He lives alone, it seems — no spouse or children — and a part of me envies him. Had the Lords of the Hunt not blessed me with my little pack of pups, such a life of solitude might have suited me.

He's a small, wrinkled old man with a shock of white hair, a gap-toothed smile, and bright little blue eyes hidden behind small wire-framed spectacles. Honestly, he looks about fifty years out of date, and I can't help wondering how far back he and Dr. Meyer go, and what their connection might be.

He quickly charms us, working Nico and Rio into fits of giggles with his timeless humor, and playing along with my "science field-trip" story effortlessly. Before I know it, he's taken cheek swabs from all of us, passing it off as a little game of DNA discovery and promising to get me the results within a week. Then we're saying goodbye and heading off along the cliffs and back to camp.

When we arrive, however, what we find is not what I expect. I had thought we'd have another two days to ourselves, to relax and enjoy the seaside atmosphere, but it seems Sky has other ideas.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching in confusion as he packs away the tent, the camp chairs, and the cookstove. "I thought we weren't leaving until Sunday?"

"I'm sorry," he says, keeping his eyes on his task. "Something's come up at home, and I've got to get back. I'm sorry, Martin. Forgive me, will you?"

I glance towards the beach where Flora and Miguel are busy flying a box kite in the afternoon breeze, their faces lit with laughter and pure joy as Nico and Rio run to join them. I can't remember the last time I saw them so carefree; and no matter what happens next — despite the fact our time together hasn't lasted nearly as long as I wished it would, or unfolded quite as I'd hoped — I have Sky to thank for it.

"Of course," I say, adopting an accommodating tone and lowering my gaze. "You've done so much for us. I already owe you too much to ask for anything more."

He glances up at me sharply, brows pinched. I shrink in on myself reflexively, fearful I've displeased him, and his expression turns pained.

He leaves off what he's doing and comes to stand before me, resting a hand on my shoulder and waiting until I look up at him.

"It's safe to disagree with me, Martin," he says softly. "Always. And you don't owe me anything. Now, speak your mind."

I look towards the beach again, to where the children are busy dividing up a bag of taffy between themselves, and then back at Sky, but I can't quite meet his eyes.

"Do you regret it?" I ask, hardly able to speak around the ache in my throat. "What we did?"

He raises a hand and touches the side of my face, his expression tortured as if by a million unsaid things.

"Of course I don't regret it," he says softly. "I don't regret one second of the time I've spent with you. I treasure every moment, and I always will."

"Then why are you talking like it's already over?" I ask, biting the inside of my cheek as my voice betrays me.

He sighs. "It seems that passing along my position as heir may prove more difficult than I anticipated. There are... unforeseen complications."

"Will you tell me about it?"

He smiles, but shakes his head. "Later."

Sighing, he pulls me into an embrace, heedless of what the children, or anyone else, might see, and rests his head against mine.

"If you learned the limit of your time, and learned it was short, how would you spend it?" he asks.

Alarmed by the question, I pull away from him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "It's just a hypothetical."

I frown. "I guess I wouldn't care how I spent it, as long as I could spend it with my kids... and with you."

Smiling, he pulls me back into his arms. "We're the same, then," he says. Then he kisses me lightly and changes the subject. "Did it go well with the doctor?"

"Yeah. He said his lab would have the results in a week."

"Good. We both got what we came here for, at least."

Releasing me, he resumes packing.

Not knowing what else to say, I help him stow the few remaining items into his van before calling the kids in from the sand.

They take our early departure surprisingly well, as excited for another ride in Sky's multipurpose vehicle as they were to see the ocean for the first time. They're easy to please and wonderfully adaptable, and with a promise to stop at their favorite fast food place for dinner on the way home, easily satisfied.

The same can't be said for myself. After what happened between us, I'm not about to let things lie. Whatever Sky discovered in the sea, two things are clear: first, it upset him and changed something in his outlook; and second, he doesn't trust me enough to tell me about it.

I've got to find some even ground, something solid to stand upon; I've got to be his equal, so he knows he can trust and rely on me as easily as I trust and rely on him.

I've been fatally mistaken once before, but something tells me that, unless I am so cruelly mistaken once again, Skylar West is my heart's mate. I never expected to find, or deserve, a chance at such happiness; now that I have — and to my own very great surprise — I'm not about to give it up without a fight.