“Haven’t heard from him. I’m sure he’ll be along.”
Liam poured coffee. “Where have Sean and Connor got to?”
“I sent them off.”
“Why?”
“So we could talk.”
Liam took a sip and grimaced. “Sean must have made this.” Sean, terrific at the griddle, lousy at the brew-up.
“Fergus has to know.”
“That Sean made the damned coffee?”
“Liam.”
“Shit.”
Both men fell silent. Liam cradled his cup while Dylan pretended to read the newspaper. Liam had never heard Dylan come in last night; Glory must have been comforting him the way Kim had comforted Liam.
“Do you want me to leave?” Dylan asked without looking up.
“No, you’re fine. I don’t mind you reading the paper.” Liam stopped pretending. “You mean for good, don’t you? Why should you?”
“My own father died before we found out whether I could best him. Defeated males had two choices back then—be killed or cast out.”
“I know.”
Dylan turned a page. “I knew in my heart it would happen to me sooner or later. I didn’t think it would be last night.”
“We never finished the fight.”
“Good thing.” Dylan finally looked up at him. The man was much too calm. His eyes were watchful, but other than that, he rested against the counter, the cuts on his face already healing. “If it had been obvious that you’d bested me, Fergus would be up here demanding to fight you, to establish his dominance.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Glory.”
“You trust her then?”
Dylan gave him a thin smile. “I might have to move in with the woman. I thought it only fair that she knew why.”
“Damn it, Dad. You don’t have to move out. We’re not feral anymore. We don’t have to disembowel each other to make a point.”
“No, we’re too civilized for disemboweling,” Dylan said in a dry voice. “The choice is yours, Liam. I don’t mind going.”
“No.” Liam slammed his cup to the counter and it broke. Hot coffee spilled on his hands and spattered on his thighs. “I don’t want you going. Why the hell should you? You belong here.”
Dylan left his newspaper, caught Liam’s shoulders in his big hands. “It’s natural, son. It happens.”
“Screw that.”
Dylan pulled him close. Liam resisted the hug, wanting to push him away. All his life he’d felt protected and confident because Dylan and his strength was there. Even when Dylan had disappeared to grieve, his protection had permeated the walls of their castle, and Liam had known Dylan would return. He’d never doubted.
When they’d come to America, a land they’d never seen, and during the torture of taking the Collar, Dylan had been there. Dylan was the anchor in the madness of Liam’s life, in the chaos of the world.
Last night, the moment Liam’s wildcat had known he could destroy Dylan anytime he wanted to, that world had changed. Gone was the ground beneath Liam’s feet, the tie to sanity. The abyss howled at him, and now he’d have to face it alone.
Liam jerked away. He and Dylan were the same height; he could look his father straight in the eye. “Don’t tell Fergus. Not yet. I don’t want him coming after you.”
Dylan nodded, and Liam tamped down his anger with difficulty. Primal rage made him want Fergus in front of him, right now. Liam would make the man eat his f**king whip.
“Is this the true reason you never would fight Fergus?” Liam asked. “Because you knew once you’d bested him, I’d be compelled to best you?”
Dylan waited a silent moment, then nodded.
The enormity of the knowledge was enough to make Liam sick. He had always thought Dylan held back from challenging Fergus to keep the peace in Shiftertown, because living life and raising the children were more important than fights for dominance. Liam had agreed, believed it with all his heart. Now Dylan was confessing that part of the reason he’d kept himself from fighting Fergus was simple fear.
When a clan leader died, usually the second in line stepped into his place without fuss, unless a Shifter close to the second knew that he could vie for leadership. Other Shifters down the line might fight among themselves to move up a place or two, and a series of fights could happen until the pecking order settled again. Typically the hierarchy didn’t change, but sometimes a young Shifter grew more dominant or an older Shifter weakened and moved down. Dylan had realized that Liam’s natural dominance would emerge the instant Fergus was gone, that Liam wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from challenging his father.
“Shite, Dad.”
“Fergus will have to know sometime,” Dylan said.
“We wait. We’ll tell him on our own terms, when we’re ready.”
Dylan nodded once. “Agreed.”
Liam loved his father so damn much, and now his instincts were telling him to push Dylan out, take over his power. The Collars might keep Shifters from being violent, but they didn’t take away the fiery urge to dominate.
Dylan knew it too. His instincts must have been telling him to cut and run, get out while the going was good. By the white lines around his mouth, Liam knew he was resisting the urge with difficulty.
“Damn it,” Liam said. “Why didn’t you warn me this was coming?”
“I hoped it wouldn’t happen for a few more years, that we’d both have time to prepare. But claiming a mate triggered something in you. You’re the oldest son. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that one day you’d take over the family.”
“I didn’t think it would be now, and I didn’t think it would hurt so much.”
Dylan smiled. “Your mother would be proud of you for showing compassion. For not throwing me out with your bare hands.”
“Mum was too damn good for us.”
“I know that.”
Liam met his gaze and said something that would have gotten him knocked across the room before today. “She’d want you to be with Glory. She’d want you to be happy.”
“Don’t push it, Liam.”
Liam wanted to laugh, but he was wound up too tight. His dad might have switched places with him in the hierarchy, but that didn’t mean the man was a wimp.
Liam grabbed Dylan in a bear hug, then released him abruptly and left the house.
Even in the embrace, Liam’s instincts had kicked in, urging him to remind his father who now ran the pride. Liam needed some distance from his father to get used to his new position, to learn to control himself.