“Do you think I can’t comprehend your feelings, Luke?” The older man’s voice was suddenly warm with compassion. “I do know. I wish I didn’t. I wanted so much…” He broke off as his voice caught, drew in a deep breath, and continued.
“Even your mother had to make her own choice—”
“And it killed her,” Luke snarled. Suddenly the bombardment of self-loathing became so great that the only defense was to turn it outward against the only available target. “You think you understand?” He fixed the full power of his stare on Collier, showing his teeth in contempt. “You know nothing about it. You wanted a woman you couldn’t have—because you don’t carry the blood. She had no choice at all. As I have none.”
The doctor flinched, jerking away in an instinctive need for flight. Luke watched him settle deliberately back, the pale blue eyes narrowed with slow-wakening anger. “You’re afraid, Luke—and so you hide behind this compulsion as if you’re not human enough to control it. But I know better.” The last four words were blows. “You’re not an animal, Luke. You’re not merely a creature of instinct. And she is worth far more than what your instincts would make of her—a female to carry on your bloodline and bear your cubs.” He used the term intentionally, and it had the desired effect.
Luke sprang to his feet before he could will himself to stop and halted a bare instant before he could hurl his old friend across the room in his rage. His fingers were curled into claws, but he kept them at his sides until he could trust himself to answer.
“Damn you, Collier. That isn’t what she is to me.” He swallowed the bile that had dammed in his throat and cut off the stream of imprecations that rose to take its place “She is…”
The words wouldn’t come He jerked his eyes away from the expression on his old friend’s face, unable to bear the pity he thought he saw there.
“You can’t force love, Luke. It comes in its own time and in its own way. If you try to force it—if you hide behind lesser things and hope they will be enough—it will die before it has a chance to grow.”
Luke felt Collier’s hand on his arm and had no will to shake it off.
“You don’t have to tell me what she means to you. But don’t make the terrible mistake of destroying what you may have found. Don’t let your fear and your need replace the only thing that matters.”
With deliberate calm Luke stepped back. Collier’s hand slid away. He stood there, absolutely still, until the hairs along his neck lay flat and the desire to attack and rend was reduced to no more than a twitch in his fingers. When he looked into Colliers eyes, he was almost composed.
“She wants to stay, Allan.” He heard the evenness of his tone with bitter satisfaction. “Of her own will, she wants to stay with me.”
This time the lie was complete, and it sealed the terrible guilt behind unassailable walls. The needs of the wolf-spirit, he told himself, demanded it. But it was the fully human part of him that could so twist reality to suit his own desires. As he had bent her will to his.
Sighing heavily, Collier dropped his eyes. Luke braced himself for accusations, but none came. “I have no right,” he said softly, “to interfere with your life. But I will speak to her before I go, Luke—to make sure everything is all right.” When he looked up again, his eyes were bright. “I care about her, too. As I care about you.”
He was up and turned away before his words could penetrate Luke’s icy calm. Luke could see only his long physician’s hands, clasping and unclasping behind his back, with deliberate care. Luke moved to place himself by the outer door, leaving the way to Joey’s room unimpeded. “Go Talk to her,” he offered tonelessly. “Ask her yourself. And then leave us in peace.”
Collier turned slowly to regard him, and then his gaze slid away as he walked to the connecting door. There was only the slightest hesitation—his hand tightened on the doorframe, as if he would turn and speak—and then at last the older man stepped through.