Suffer the Children- Part 4
PART 4
He knew they were out there, the orphans, and he knew he must find them before any more younglings were lost. Who would have thought someone that young could have accomplished what the girl was doing?
He reached out, seeking a connexion with her, a way to channel strength in her direction. All he sensed was the sleeping patterns of the orphans.
He sighed in frustration then slowed his mind until he was in a conscious Alpha State. He tasted the restfulness she had created and gifted to her charges.
The rift had gone on far too long, children were never meant to bear this much responsibility. She should be dreaming of the first time she is allowed to be out with a young man, not struggling to feed that many rapacious mouths.
Knowing it futile to rue the past, and practicing it are two very different things. As he walked the streets his thoughts remained on the girl; what she could become, given the chance.
He insinuated himself in the rhythms of her dreams, and sent thoughts of acceptance, and the desire to help. Still, he was kept from knowing where they were.
His own sister had run away with her lover when Father had forbid them to court. As a consequence, the first time his sister had birthed she died of the effort, leaving a mate prostrated in grief.
The loss was felt through all the Clans, so much hope had been focussed on his sister. She had the chance to help secure peace with the Western Clans, she wedded a Western Clansman, aye, but it was a serf, not the heir apparent.
Now, another rebellious woman’s passion, had orphaned her first birthing, it was her eldest, a daughter, that Shone, she had the Gift of the Blood. She should be pampered, and protected; not shivering on shadowed byways struggling to be an entire family through her slight form.
He knew her Blood ran true, he had felt her Dance, and the energy she could harness. For all those years he had always thought no one could outshine their Mother, until he felt the touch of that lovely lass.
“Ah, Damn!!” He scowled at the night and a cat snarled his way up a tree, every hair rigid with fright. A gleam of feral eye and flash of teeth meant to kill, then the cat was gone, fled to another portion of its territory.
His restless wanderings took him to quiet, affluent neighbourhood. Behind doors so quick to open was where that girl should be going.
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