She stared at Philippe uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand. You can’t be serious.”
His eyes held no hint of a lie, or of humor. They were the eyes of a man, more than a man, steady and bright with the natural honesty of the wolf he could become. He was something impossible. He spoke of something equally impossible. Surely she would have known. Surely Luke would have told her.
It made no sense. Her past—what she remembered when she thought of it—revealed nothing to justify Philippe’s impossible claim. Why then, did she find herself accepting it—without proof, without fact, as if someone had whispered it in her ear long ago in some vivid yet half-forgotten dream? Why did her very blood beat with the truth of it? It was as if every critical faculty of her mind had been stripped away to reveal a primitive certainty that made her muscles clench in sympathy, preparing to shift and change.
She shook her head, mouth forming words that gave no sound. Denials rose and fell, stopped by that same cold certainty. Somehow she gathered her shattered composure, looked again at Philippe, managing somehow a faint reassuring smile; the look she turned on Luke was not quite so tranquil.
She had no time to confront him. Luke seemed to have reached the conclusion that she needed a moment of privacy to assimilate what she had been told; in one graceful move he was on his feet and trotting toward the back rooms of the cabin, leaving her alone with Philippe in an awkward silence.
It was, surprisingly, Philippe who broke it. “I am sorry, Joelle,” he said softly. “I did not know before that Luc had not told you.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Joey forced her rebellious body to assume the fragile calm of the expression she turned to him. “Its all right, Philippe. Like everything else, it’s going to take some getting used to.” She almost laughed at his obvious relief, the absurd humor of their situation saved her. “I wonder if Luke drove everyone in Val Cache as crazy as he drives me.”
Philippe’s grin, a rare expression on his ordinarily serious face, was answer enough. “You know him well, cousine.” As suddenly as it had come, the grin faded. He leaned forward, long-fingered hands dangling over his knees. “Are you happy here, Joelle?”
The change in topic caught her up short. There was very real concern in his voice—concern that reminded her unexpectedly of friends she had not seen in many weeks. She considered his question even after the immediate, obvious answer rose to her lips, all at once there were layers of complexity she had forgotten, little pricks of uncertainty that teased at her mind but could not be seen or confronted.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I am happy.”
The words were true, in spite of the unfamiliar ambiguity that Philippe’s question—and his revelations—had unleashed. “I am happy.” She looked up into Philippe’s green-gray eyes and smiled with sincere warmth. Her fingers cupped over his hands in silent thanks. “Don’t worry about me, Philippe.”
He sighed, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips in an antique but charming gesture. “I am glad to hear it, cousine. We all wish you to be happy. Ever since you came to us, we have seen the changes.” He stopped for a moment, considering his words. “We have seen what you have done for Luc. For that, we are grateful. But Luc can be intimidant.” He shook his head “Overpowering. We also wish that it is right for you.”
Joey followed his careful words, deeply touched. She squeezed his hand and let it go, getting to her feet with a soft groan at the painful unclenching of her muscles. “I’m more grateful than I can tell you—for everything you and the others did to help me. I wish I knew how to thank you.”
“There are no debts among kin,” Philippe said gravely.
She shivered at his words. Kin.
“And you have repaid us a thousand times by what you have done for Luc.”
Almost frightened by his words, Joey looked at her feet. What she had done for Luke. The words meant more than she could grasp, but the deeper meanings slipped away even as she reached for them. She looked up slowly. “I hope we can be friends, Philippe.”